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Jaed, amused

"I should rather live poor but virtuous, myself" He cocked an eyebrow at me "Besides, I think your auntie wouldna like it much if I was to forsake her e to this from his position in the bow, shook his head and spoke without looking round

"Any et rich, he’s done earnt it, you ask ht," I said, with a vivid lanced at Ja attention His eyes were fixed upriver, intent on possibility, both book and alligator forgotten for the e caught us aIan’s fears for our speed The Cape Fear was a tidal river, whose daily surge carried up two-thirds of its length, nearly as far as Cross Creek

I felt the river quicken under us, the boat rising an inch or two, then beginning slowly to pick up speed as the power of the inco tide was funneled up the harbor and into the river’s narrow channel The slave sighed with relief and hoisted the dripping pole free of the water

There would be no need for poling until the surge ran out, in five or six hours Then ould either anchor for the night and catch the fresh surge of the next inco Poling, I was given to understand, was necessary only in case of sandbars or windless days

A sense of peaceful sous and Ian curled up in the bow to sleep, while Rollo kept guard on the roof above, tongue dripping as he panted, eyes half closed against the sun The Captain and his hand--commonly addressed as "you, Troklus," but whose name was actually Eutroclus--disappeared into the tiny cabin, fro poured

Ja fro still on the stern transo in the water, and with the s the hair onwherever skin touched skin

There were indistinct hter Ja delicately through the piles of goods like a Clydesdale stallion in a field of frogs, a large wooden box held in his arently on s, and sat down beside h of pleasure at the coolness

"What’s this?" I ran my hand curiously over the box

"Oh, only a wee present" He didn’t look at me, but the tips of his ears were pink "Open it, hm?"

It was a heavy box, both wide and deep Carved of a dense, fine-grained dark wood, it bore the marks of heavy use--nicks and dents that had seasoned but not impaired its polished beauty It was hasped for a lock, but there was none; the lid rose easily on oiled brass hinges, and a whiff of calea of disuse Each had its own pocket, carefully fitted and lined in green velvet

A small, heavy-toothed saw; scissors, three scalpels--round-bladed, straight-bladed, scoop-bladed; the silver blade of a tongue depressor, a tenaculuhted, I lifted out a short ebony rod, to the end of which was affixed a ball of worsted, wrapped in rather hteenth-century version of a reflex haled his feet, pleased

"Oh, ye like it?"

"I love it! Oh, look--there’s more in the lid, under this flap--" I stared for a moment at the disjointed tubes, screws, platforms and mirrors, until my mind’s eye shuffled them and presented me with the neatly assembled vision "A microscope!" I touched it reverently "My God, a er to show me "The front opens and there are wee drawers inside"

There were--containing, ahts, a tile for rolling pills, and a stained marblecracked in transit Inside the front, above the drawers, were row upon row of slass

"Oh, they’re beautiful!" I said, handling the small scalpel with reverence The polished wood of the handle fit hted to an exquisite balance "Oh, Jaone bright red with pleasure "I thought they’d maybe do I’ve no notion what they’re meant for, but I could see they were finely made"

I had no notion what some of the pieces were meant for, but all of them were beautiful in themselves; made by or for a man who loved his tools and what they did

"Who did they belong to, I wonder?" I breathed heavily on the rounded surface of a lenticular and brought it to a soft gleam with a fold of my skirt

"The woman who sold it to h, and I took that, as well--perhaps it will give his na the top tray of instruments, he revealed another, shallower tray, froht inches wide, covered in scuffed black leather

"I thought yea book, too, like the one ye kept in France," he explained "The one where ye kept the pictures and the notes of the people ye saw at L’Hôpital He’s written a bit in this one, but there’s a deal of blank pages left at the back"

Perhaps a quarter of the book had been used; the pages were covered with a closely written, fine black script, interspersed with drawings that took my eye with their clinical familiarity: an ulcerated toe, a shattered kneecap, the skin neatly peeled aside; the grotesque swelling of advanced goiter, and a dissection of the calf muscles, each neatly labeled