“Annabelle?” Martin gave him a confused look.
“You remember. Charles Jr.’s betrothed.”
Martin looked like he was thinking for a moment, though Adam couldn’t be sure he was considering the topic at hand, then finally said, “I don’t know. I reckon if they ain’t gettin along we’ll just bring Aunt Celie back to Beaufort with us.”
Adam nodded. “Yeah. That’s exactly what your cousin said we should do. Don’t know that she’d want to come back with just us, though. That old woman seemed real nervous to make the trip last time, and Laney was with her.”
“Maybe,” said Martin.
Maybe? Maybe what? Adam wondered if Martin was even paying attention to the conversation.
“Here, take this for a minute,” Martin said, motioning to the tiller.
Adam got up from his place tending the sheets and stepped to the rear of the vessel and took the helm.
Martin moved a few feet away and leaned against the gunwale and unfastened his breeches.
That was nothing unusual. The call of nature didn’t wait until one was back on dry land. In fact, when they had made the trip a couple of weeks prior with Laney and Aunt Celie, when the women had to relieve themselves they were able to make use of a chamber pot for that very purpose and then empty its contents overboard.
Now that it was just Adam and Martin, there was no need for either of them to stand on ceremony to do their business.
Still, after a couple of minutes it dawned on Adam that it was taking Martin longer than it normally would to conduct such a transaction, so he decided to ask what was taking him so long.
“You alright?”
It took a couple of seconds, but Martin responded, “I’m tryin to piss. Is that alright with you?”
“It shouldn’t be that difficult,” said Adam. “Maybe if you stop playing with it…”
He looked up and saw that Martin was leaning forward and holding on to the lower shroud. His body seemed stiff, and his face was as white as a sheet.
“You sure you’re alright?”
Martin hunched over. Adam lashed the tiller in place and went over to see if his friend needed help.
“Get away!” Martin demanded.
Adam could see that Martin was in pain, and he was at a loss as to what he should do.
“You’re not well,” said Adam. “How can I help you? Tell me what I should do.”
“Just go back to the tiller and make sure we don’t run aground!”
Adam started to go back to the helm, but after taking a couple of steps he turned and looked back at Martin. Martin had collapsed on a bench near where he had been standing. He was hunched over in pain. Adam knew there was nothing he could do for him, but he also worried they might not make it all the way to New Bern with Martin in the condition he was in.
He didn’t say anything right away, but after a couple of minutes he said, “What is it?”
Martin had his elbows on his knees and was resting his head on his hands. He shook his head.
“Come on,” said Adam. “You’ve got to have some idea of what’s wrong with you. It’s not supposed to be that hard to take a piss.”
Martin chuckled like he was annoyed. “What do you know?”
“I know it’s not that hard to take a piss, just like I said—unless something is really wrong. I can see that you’re in pain. So what is it?”
Martin looked up. “I don’t know? Maybe I’m dyin.”
Adam scoffed. “I doubt that, but something’s definitely wrong with you.”
Martin looked out onto the water, seemingly unwilling to make eye contact with Adam. “You just keep behaving yourself and you’ll be fine.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Adam.
Martin seemed to be thinking about what to say. “You ever heard the saying ‘A night with Venus, a lifetime with mercury’?”
“Huh?” Adam wrinkled his brow. After a few seconds he reacted. “Oh… OH! Wait just a minute!… You think you have the pox?” His eyes grew wide.
Martin turned back and looked at Adam, but he said nothing.
“Since when?… From who?”
Martin tipped his head to the side and rolled his eyes at Adam. “How in the hell am I supposed to know that? Do you think I would have knowingly taken a turn with a poxy wench?”
Adam gave him a half smile and shrugged. “Don’t know. You might. If she’s got a pretty face and she’s willing.”
Martin was clearly not amused.
“When did you first start… noticing a problem?” Adam asked.
“Ugh!” Martin growled. “Why are there always so many damned questions with you? I’m not gonna talk about it. Now get over here and you tend the sheets. I’ll manage the helm.”
Adam stood and carefully moved back towards the mast to change places with Martin.
For the rest of the evening until the next morning, the two of them barely spoke, except for what was absolutely necessary to either handle the vessel or to share some of the provisions they had brought.
The whole situation was disheartening to Adam. He looked at Martin like a big brother. He had taken him under his wing at Roger’s Shipping Company from the very start, which especially helped when Boaz was being his typical grouchy self. For Martin to have changed so much, and for him to be so seemingly incapable of understanding Adam’s concern in the situation, was troubling.
Adam understood there was nothing he could do, but at the very least he knew that if Martin didn’t get help for whatever condition he had, he was only going to get worse.
FORTUNATELY, THANKS TO WINDS FROM the south, they were able to make good time and rounded Cedar Island before sundown. They had a smooth journey up the Neuse River overnight and made it to New Bern early the following afternoon. That meant they still had time to find Will’s attorney friend before nightfall.
A problem arose, however, when it became apparent that Martin’s condition was worsening. As soon as they docked, Adam insisted on finding him a physician.
When Adam asked a man who was doing repairs on one of the docks at the wharf, he learned there was a doctor on the next block. He then asked Martin if he wanted him to hire a driver, but he said he thought he could make it on foot.
When they finally arrived at the address they had been given for the physician, Adam approached the front door, but Martin was having second thoughts.
“I don’t know that this is such a good idea,” he said.
“What’s wrong with it? The place looks good. He’s obviously doing well in his business.”
Martin winced. Adam suspected his friend was nervous at the sight of the doctor’s residence. It was a fine home, so the doctor was presumably a gentleman. Adam reckoned that it was embarrassing to his friend because of the particular condition for which he was seeking treatment.
Adam rapped on the front door. There was no answer, but he could hear noise coming from inside.
“Come on,” said Martin. “Let’s just go.”
Adam said, “Go where? Somebody’s here. I can hear them inside. Maybe it’s just taking him a little while to get to the—”
Just then the front door swung open, and there was a man standing there who looked like he might be in his sixties. He was of average height and had wispy gray hair on the sides of his head but was mostly bald on top. The hair he did have he kept pulled back in a ribbon. He also wore a pair of thick glasses.
“Good afternoon, sir,” said Adam. “Are you Dr. Beasley?”
The man nodded. “I am. How may I be of assistance to you?”
“My friend here”—Adam motioned down the steps to Martin—“he’s not well. We were hoping you might be able to help him.”
The doctor peered over his glasses at Martin. “Hmm. I see.” He waved the two of them inside.
Once they were all standing in the foyer, Dr. Beasley asked Martin, “What sort of trouble are you having, young man?”
Martin
looked embarrassed. “Well, sir, I don’t quite know how to…” He looked over in Adam’s direction as though he was embarrassed.
Dr. Beasley nodded. “I see. Why don’t you come with me then, young man?”
He suggested Adam have a seat while he took Martin to his examination room.
Martin followed the doctor down a short hallway, and Adam waited in an armchair in the parlor. He noticed that the whole house appeared to be wallpapered with the most unusual assortment of patterns from room to room, but they all looked fancy. It was as if the old man was shown all the varieties of wallpaper that were available to him and decided to have a room done in each.
After about five minutes Dr. Beasley came out and told Adam that he was doing a test with Martin and that it might be an hour or so before he was done, depending on the severity of his condition. He told Adam he could continue to wait in the parlor if he wanted to, or he could come back in a couple of hours.
“What is it?” Adam asked. “The test, I mean.”
“Oh,” said the doctor, “indeed. Mr. Smith claims he has avoided drinking any liquids since last evening for fear of another painful episode. However, I need to reproduce his symptoms so that I can better ascertain what is wrong with him. He is presently drinking a large jug of cool water. Depending on how long it takes for that to find its way to his bladder, we may be done sooner or later.”
“I see,” said Adam. “Well, if it’ll be a while, maybe I should go take care of another matter of business and then come back.”
“That’ll be fine,” said Dr. Beasley.
WHILE MARTIN WAS WITH THE doctor, Adam decided to go to the Martin estate, which was just two blocks to the west, to let Charles Jr. know that he and Martin were in town. He wanted to avoid them just popping up on the doorstep after dark, especially considering the circumstances under which the master of the property had evacuated the town with his own family.
Adam was relieved to find Charles Jr. working outside. He explained to him what had brought them to town and said that Martin was taking care of some business elsewhere but would be returning with him shortly. Then he asked to borrow the mule cart to go see Will’s attorney friend and then bring Martin back to the estate.
Within a few minutes he had found the home of the attorney for Mrs. Dudley, Alexander Pearce. He knocked on the door but could tell as soon as he arrived there that it was unlikely anyone was home. No answer. He would have to wait and come back by with Martin later, or else return there the next morning.
There was nothing left to do but go back to Dr. Beasley’s place and wait.
Oh please, God, don’t let him have the pox, Adam silently prayed as he knocked and stood at the front door until he was invited back in to the doctor’s residence. While no one close to him had ever suffered from the pox, he’d certainly heard plenty about it and even seen drawings of the disfigurations the disease could cause. It was not an unusual occurrence, for instance, for a pox sufferer to eventually lose their nose and be forced to wear a false one. Not to mention all of the physical discomfort that such a diagnosis would foretell—much of which came from the treatment itself.
And on a very real level, Adam also wondered what it would mean for him if Martin had the pox. He was fairly certain he understood how the disease was usually acquired—and that part didn’t worry him, of course—but he wasn’t sure if one could catch it from just casually being around someone, or, for instance, sharing a swig from the same bottle of rum.
There was one thing he did know: Emmanuel would never let Martin hear the end of it if he had gotten the pox. He could just hear it now. Emmanuel would probably say, “You’re reaping what you’ve sown, young man, with all that whoring around!” He often warned the men in his company about just that sort of behavior, telling them that he’d seen with his own two eyes the devastation the pox could cause, as he’d known men who’d had it, and that no fleeting pleasure was worth the high price of such a hellish disease.
Dr. Beasley opened the door and motioned for him to come inside, and Adam saw Martin sitting there in the parlor, waiting.
“You’re already done?” he asked as he tried to read the results from his friend’s face.
“Well,” said Dr. Beasley, “it’s a good thing you came back sooner rather than later, but I suppose it’s Mr. Smith’s place to tell you about his results. I have written him a script for some medicine.” He turned to Martin. “You’ll need to hurry on down to this address so the apothecary can prepare it for you before it’s too late.”
Martin nodded. “Will do.”
Adam looked at the grandfather clock next to the door and saw that it was already after three o’clock.
“Are you sure the chemist will be there?” he asked.
“I should hope so,” said Dr. Beasley. “In any case he lives upstairs, so if he isn’t in his shop I’m sure you can find a way to get his attention somehow. Tell him I sent you and that this must be prepared and administered statim.”
“What’s that mean?” asked Martin.
“Immediately,” said Dr. Beasley. “The longer you wait, the worse it will be.”
After that, Adam and Martin thanked the doctor for seeing them so late in the day, and Martin paid the man for his service.
When they got outside, Martin saw that Adam had brought the mule, and he patted him on the back and said, “Thank God for beasts of burden, eh?”
Adam gave Martin a strange look. “Sure, I reckon.”
He could tell Martin seemed to be in a better mood than when they had arrived.
As soon as they were in the mule cart and on their way to the apothecary one block over, Adam asked him, “How did everything go?”
Martin took a deep breath and sighed. “Well, thank the Lord. He says he don’t think I’ve got what I was thinkin I had.”
“Hmph. That is good. So what did he say it was?”
“It could still be serious, but he thinks since I’m otherwise healthy, and if I can get that medicine, I ought to be alright. Can’t drink nothin stronger than beer for a while, though.”
“You still didn’t say what it was that you have,” said Adam.
“He thinks it’s got to do with my bladder. Some kind of urine infection or somethin.”
“How does he know it’s that and not that other thing?”
“He says there’s other symptoms I’d prob’ly have if that’s what it was. Course he also said I need to count my lucky stars, ’cause that pox is everywhere.”
“You already knew that, Martin,” said Adam. “That ain’t news.”
“I know, but I think this whole experience has taught me at least one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t tell you. You’re too young.” Martin laughed.
Adam rolled his eyes. “Oh goodness gracious. You’ll never learn, will you?”
Martin shrugged. “Time will tell, won’t it?”
“I think this is it,” Adam said as he pointed to a building on the corner of Pollock and Middle Streets. “Bradley Apothecary.”
As soon as the mule stopped, Martin got out of the cart and checked to see if the door was open. Fortunately, it was. He went inside and came back out a few minutes later with a bottle of dark liquid and a cloth sack with contents that were unknown to Adam.
“What all do you have to take?” he asked.
“This liquid is some kind of cranberry syrup. The man said it was real strong, but that I ought to start noticing some improvement soon, and in here is a mixture of powders and herbs that he’s told me to take as a tea.”
“That’s all? That doesn’t sound so bad,” said Adam. “At least there’s no mercury.”
“It’s still early enough. I reckon we can run on by and see that attorney friend of Will’s,” said Martin.
“Are you sure you don’t want to just go back to the house and rest this evening? We can go see Mr. Pearce first thing in the morning.”
; “Nah,” said Martin. “Let’s just go on and get it out of the way.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“AND YOU’RE SURE IT WAS a hyacinth blossom?” asked Mr. Pearce.
The thirtysomething-year-old lawyer had light-brown hair and hazel eyes, and he was slightly short and stout. He wore a pair of spectacles perched on the end of his nose, giving him an intellectual air. He was the sort of fellow that less educated men would be hesitant to question for fear of being wrong.
“I am, sir,” said Adam. “I didn’t think it was anything important, but Will—ah, Mr. Martin—he mentioned about your client’s name and that the mirror might have something to do with those bandits.”
“I should think it very well might,” said Mr. Pearce. “Particularly considering the mirror was found in the pocket of the dead man you mentioned. And tell me his initials again.”
“RJ,” said Adam.
Mr. Pearce dipped his pen in the jar of ink on his desk and scribbled down some notes.
“How long will you fellows be here in New Bern?”
Adam and Martin looked at each other. Martin appeared to defer to Adam for an answer, since Adam’s grandfather was the one who’d allowed them to go in the first place.
“Well, sir, I reckon we can stay around another day or two if we need to, but if we’re gone much longer than that they may well send a search party for us.”
Mr. Pearce nodded. “Certainly. Certainly. I understand. I would like to go and speak with Mrs. Dudley, see what she has to say about the man whose body you saw, the mirror, and the canteen with the initials. Some of it may help her to remember a few more details. I think it would also be a worthwhile exercise to go back and see if there have been any notices about anyone with the initials RJ or anyone who might be missing. Surely that fellow you saw in the marsh has family somewhere. Maybe they’re looking for him even now.”
Adam nodded. “Maybe so. Where would you recommend we check on that—those notices, I mean?”
“In past issues of the Gazette. Go see James Davis. That’d be the best place to start.”
As soon as Adam and Martin left Mr. Pearce’s office, they went right to James Davis’s print shop. Mr. Davis wasn’t in, but his apprentice, Thomas, was there.
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