The other fellow laughed out loud. A Cornishman, that’s what he was. Samuel had known many who’d taken to sea, though they all seemed to long for their homeland, and when they’d had enough to drink they cried, desperate to return to a place they couldn’t wait to leave behind when they were young.

“Since I’m well acquainted with the owner,” the fellow told Samuel, “I can tell you that you’re wrong.”

Samuel fished around in his bag and brought out his key to the door.

“If it fits the lock, I may have to believe you,” the Cornishman, who said he was called Finney, now allowed.

When the key fitted perfectly, there was no fight to be had, and, although they were still cautious, the men shook hands. They sat down in the garden chairs where Abraham Dias used to spend hours when he realized he loved being on land and became an avid gardener. Finney was made to understand that this man, who was wearing a black coat in the fine weather, as he did every day of his life, for he’d never shaken the chill brought on by his disease, was indeed the owner of the house.

“I could tell you many things about why and how Maria came to be here, I could talk all day, but I’d rather you do the talking,” he suggested to Finney.

He was told that Faith had disappeared and Maria had recently set off after her, traveling first to Boston, then to Salem. It was clear this fellow Finney knew the girl well and that Maria had placed her trust in him. She had gone to see him in the Bowery the day she left. Because he’d saved her life, Faith would forever owe him her loyalty, a situation Samuel understood, for his life had been saved as well, and his loyalty was unwavering.

“The way I see it, the girl owes me nothing,” Finny said. Yet she had appeared with a gift before leaving for Salem, for they might never see each other again, and she offered him an elixir she called Live Well Tea. She advised that he drink it every morning. He had done so, for he trusted Faith Owens, and his life had indeed improved. His new wife, Catherine, could not have children, but a little girl had been abandoned in the Fly Market with a note pinned to her dress. She is yours. Finney and Catherine had adopted her and now called the child their own. It was his heart’s desire to be a father again, one he’d never spoken of, and yet Faith had seen through him. She had given him what he wanted most in the world.

“I worry for her,” Finney admitted. “The art she’s working is dark, and it takes a toll. Maria’s gone to save the girl from herself.” Finney’s eyes brightened. “Maybe you should go after her.”

“No.” Dias laughed. “I couldn’t. I’ve been told to stay away.”