He found himself becoming a true citizen of that town as his business grew, until he thought very little of wanting to be anywhere else in his life again. He was near thirty years old and found the new rhythm of his days quite agreeable, and the material pleasures of this life were such as he had not known existed before. Something had changed within him, but, however different he had become, he was at peace from his former self. Dear Elissa, who did not know him before, embraced the man he was instead of remarking on the changes that had taken place, as any from his old life surely would have. This was a liberation for him, and he always felt free with her to say whatever he thought and do as he wanted, with no burdens of any other sort to support.

Elissa was finally confident in their home together, and although her own family worried for her that she was not married but living with a man who was, they accepted it as a better situation than her being merely some passing soldier’s fancy. To her, though, there was no difference than if they had exchanged vows in church, because, she thought, marriage is sanctified first in the heart above all other places.

When he stopped speaking of his farm and his children, she knew he was with her completely and intended to remain. No one could fault her that another woman had gotten to him first, but the two of them were together now and that was also meant to be. Nor could anyone reproach her treatment of him, it being such as any man would desire and covet in life.

All of this fortunate domestic routine was at last interrupted one day when an ancient sailor came into Caleum’s shop with a set of finest china, which he offered for sale. As Caleum examined the wares, his customer looked at the name stenciled on the glass window and again at Caleum behind his counter.

“Strange name, Merian,” he said casually. “I once knew a fellow called that. Aye, I knew his entire family.”

“I would comment on your name too, friend,” Caleum remarked coolly, “but I do not know ye, so keep my mind and tongue to myself.”

“The son would have been around your age,” the stranger continued on, undaunted by the rebuke. “They lived near the quays in Providence, but were originally from a place called Stonehouses it was that I did visit on a journey once.”

“I will give ten shillings for the china,” Caleum offered, ignoring the rest the old man said and walking to his strongbox to get the money. As he went across the room, the sound of his wooden leg striking the floor resonated through the shop and was the only thing that could be heard, as the other man watched him silently. A curious thing about his leg: Either because of it or his growing status in the commercial life of the city, whenever men looked on it, even white men, they deferred to him almost instinctually. If it was a man of very high station, he would always make a little nod of the head, as if wishing to bow but being forbidden that ritual due to caste. In time Caleum had grown used to all this, until he seemed indifferent to anyone else’s regard entirely, and they in turn lent him wide berth. Not so the stranger, who let the money remain on the counter and resumed speaking, looking Caleum directly in the eye and not allowing him respite or quarter from his old gaze.

“The man’s given name was Purchase, and he was quite a fellow in his day, though I don’t think anyone would much recognize it now. He stood near tall as that doorframe, and there wasn’t a woman who ever met him who didn’t fall squarely in love. Since the first time he knew her, he only had eyes for one, and it was she he gave his whole life to, though happiness was elusive for them.

“They had a little boy, whose name escapes me just now, and the father one day asked that I deliver the boy to his family’s place down the coast. As he was my true friend, I obliged him.

“On the way there a storm met us off one of the capes, and I’ve never seen anything like the boy’s lack of fear during that gale. Every man on board was white or gray, depending on his original self, but the boy stood at the edge of the railing staring right out into it. Someone said he spied a ghost ship, which were known to run off that coast, though no one I knew had ever seen one. Whatever the case, when he left the railing the storm abated and we reached land safely.

“He was just as impervious to fear when we set out overland to his people’s house, which, when we reached it, was one of the most comfortable places on this earth I ever laid down my head.

“Purchase had a brother, called Magnus, who was almost as tall as he, and their father, who stood somewhere between the two. He was named Jasper Merian, I remember, he was a man in the old style and paid me in gold for delivering his son’s boy safely to their door. All of them had the same habit of paying for whatever they got in ready cash, and rarely an argument about the price.

“The other brother had a wife, Adelia, if my mind is still sound, and she was the kindest maid of the country I ever met. She doted on the boy, and I remember thinking, though I was only there a short while, his life was something blessed that he should be so loved by so many people, as I myself had none by then but my wife who loved me — and she died not long after that trip. In any case, those were the Merians I knew in my day. You would not happen to have heard of any of them?”

With each word the old man said and everything he described, Caleum felt a peeling away of the hardened membrane around his memory and recalled a little bit more with each word, until he could recognize the man before him. Rennton had changed very little since then, having turned gray and a bit more wrinkled, but otherwise being obviously the same — as some boys do not metamorphose so much from youth to manhood, so some men receive their true face early in life, which deviates very little from then until their last days.

Looking at him, Caleum remembered that journey they made together with a clarity that illuminated his interior mind like a fire, and he felt then like Adam the first time God called and he refused to answer his Maker, knowing himself finally to be naked.

“Aye. The man was called Rennton who carried me home.”

“I did not think you cared to remember,” Rennton said.

“How should I ever forget?” Caleum asked, regretful of his earlier arrogance toward the man. “Please, you must be my guest at dinner tonight,” he said. “It would be an honor for me.”

“Aye,” Rennton agreed, remembering the hospitality and good fellowship he had known from Merians in the past and extending to the son the bond of friendship and alliance he had shared with the father.

Caleum wanted to embrace the man who had saved him from orphanage and certain death as a boy, but fearing this would be too familiar, he took Rennton’s hands in both of his and pumped them warmly. “We live above the shop here,” he told him. “Dinner will be at six, if that suits you.”

“I will be there promptly,” Rennton answered.

After he left, Caleum closed the shop and went upstairs to tell Elissa they would be having a guest for dinner, which for them was a rarity. In his good mood he also suggested that she invite who she wanted, as they had not entertained a proper party since moving into their home together.

“Maybe your sister would like to come,” he said, knowing how her family shunned her since she began living with him.

“I do not think so, but I will send word to her,” she replied. “I had better hurry now before the markets close, if we are to make a dinner for so many.” She was elated as she left the house then, for she saw how jubilant he was and was in her turn glad to open their home to friends.

When Rennton arrived that evening, he saw Caleum had spared no expense on the meal and had even gone so far as to hire a group of musicians to entertain them. He thought then how much like the father the son had become. He was also was very stirred when Caleum stood to toast him, giving him credit for saving his life.