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Chapter 1: Salem Massachusetts 1834

Fifty people lined the wharf’s edge, gazing thrillingly seaward.

John lowered his mouth to Iris’s ear. “Darling,” he said, “let us go, let us not watch--”

He was stopped by a sudden outburst erupting from the crowd. There was an initial, a dreadful intake of breath, causing the young couple to jump back, nearly tumbling from their perch, then freezing in place, eyes wide, bodies tense, staring at the amazed crowd. As one the townspeople raised their hands to their mouths as a convulsion of horror overcame them. They stared ahead. In the agonizing moment that followed the sharp barking of the dog running feverishly across the front was the only sound to be heard. The reports of its barks echoed back across the bay.

John squeezed Iris’s hand in his own.

“Run aground!” A man near to them yelled, “My God!”

“Impossible!” another shouted in response. “Our harbor has no obstruction!”

John stared at that man. He tried to see into his eyes, to determine if his wits were present. John closed his eyes, then deliberately cast them to sea, willing himself to see. But there was nothing. The people of the town were in a frenzy of true emotion, but to sea, blank space.

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