Strater bought a mansion in New Bedford, and Caleb built his wedding-cake house in the village of Fairhaven across the harbor from the whaling city. From the roof turret, he watched the whaling ships come and go. He rarely went out in daylight.

When he did leave his mansion, he covered his head and shaded his face with a hood.

He became known to his neighbors as the Ghost, and he became a generous benefactor who used his fortune to build schools and libraries for the community. In return, the townspeople protected the privacy of their homegrown Jonah.

Caleb guided Strater into a large chamber that was empty except for a comfortable revolving chair in the center. The diorama from Caleb’s show wrapped around the walls. Anyone sitting in the chair could pivot and see the “Living Jonah” story from beginning to end.

“Well, what do you think?” Caleb asked his friend.

Strater shook his head. “It almost makes me want to go on the road with the show again.”

“Let’s talk about it over a glass of wine,” Caleb said.

“I’m afraid we don’t have time,” Strater said. “I carry a message to you from Nathan Dobbs.”

“The captain’s oldest son?”

“That’s right. His father is dying and would like to see you.”

“Dying! That’s not possible! You have told me yourself that the captain looks as hale and hearty as a young bull.”

“It’s not an ailment that brought him down, Caleb. There was an accident at one of his mills. A loom fell over and crushed his ribs.”

Caleb’s old man’s face lost its last faint traces of color. “When can I see him?” he asked.

“We must go now,” Strater replied. “His time is short.”

Caleb rose from his chair. “I’ll get my coat and hat.”

THE ROAD TO THE Dobbs mansion wound around New Bedford Harbor and climbed to County Street. Carriages lined the driveway and street in front of the Greek Revival mansion. Nathan Dobbs greeted Strater and Caleb at the door and thanked them profusely for coming. He was tall and lanky, the younger image of his father.

“I’m sorry to hear about your father,” Caleb said. “How is Captain Dobbs?”

“Not long for this world, I’m afraid. I’ll take you to him.”

The mansion’s spacious parlor and adjoining hallways overflowed with the captain’s ten children and countless grandchildren. There was a murmur as Nathan Dobbs entered the parlor with Strater and the strange hooded figure. Nathan asked Strater to make himself comfortable and escorted Caleb to the captain’s room.

Captain Dobbs lay in his bed, tended by his wife and family doctor. They had wanted to keep the sickroom dark, as was the medical practice then, but he insisted that the curtains be opened to let in sunlight.