Free Hang a Thousand Trees with Ribbons by Ann Rinaldi

now," he said softly. Then he was gone.

Chapter Twelve
FEBRUARY 1764
    "I'm not happy with your Latin today, Phillis. Tell me one reason why I should take you to the wharf."
    "Because you promised."
    "Did I, now? Tell me of it. I disremember."
    He was going to be vile. In almost three years I had become well acquainted with his moods. Times he was given to melancholy. And when the notion took him he could be surly, even mean.
    "You said that if I made no more mention of being free, you would take me to the wharves whenever a ship arrived from the coast of Africa."
    "What kind of ship?"
    He would have me say the word. "A slave ship."
    "And? Has one arrived, then?"
    "The
Belisarius
is due this morning." I took the latest copy of the
Boston Post
and turned to the page of marine news. "It's listed under arrivals."
    "So you are reading the newspaper every day as I asked. And not only Scripture."
    "I read Scripture for your mama. The newspaper for you."
    "And what pleases you most, Phillis?"
    "The newspaper," I allowed.
    My answer satisfied him. "Let's go, then. But I still expect improvement in your Latin. You can do better than that with your translations of Virgil."

    Nathaniel drove the chaise himself. I think he did not want Prince to know we were going to the wharves for the arrival of a cargo of slaves.
    I liked it when we went places together, just the two of us. And he always kept his promises. It was part of being a successful merchant, he said, to honor your agreements.
    And he was a successful merchant now. More and more he was taking over his father's interests. He had the respect of everyone in town. He was making money faster than he could spend it. Last summer he'd had a fountain put in his mother's garden. She had always wanted one.
    There were days we did not see him at all, he was so busy. On such days I sorely missed him. On such days Mrs. Wheatley stepped in, instructing me in Scripture. She was of a mind that a girl couldn't know too much Scripture. Then, just as I felt mired in it, Nathaniel would stop home unexpectedly in the middle of the day, as he had just done. To check on my progress.
    Hancock's Wharf was crowded with nigras come to see the arrival of the slave ship. They came to see if anyone from home was aboard.
    Nathaniel had promised me that if I saw anyone from home, he would purchase them. We had come once or twice before. But I never saw anyone.
    The Boston nigras would stand bearing mute witness while the cargo was unloaded and the dirty, stunned wretches, some still in chains, were led to the warehouse.
    "Why I indulge you in this, Phillis, I will never know," Nathaniel said.
    I was about to give a saucy reply. I had found that sauciness pleased him more than humility at times. But the words never got past my lips.
    "Mr. Wheatley! Ho there, sir!"
    A young man came running out of the Hancock countinghouse. "Message from Mr. John."
    Nathaniel read it, swore softly, then handed the young man a shilling. "Are the Hancocks all right?"
    "Yes, sir. Mr. Thomas has the servants readying things to take his wife to the country. Miz Lydia, she's in a awful tizzy. Says she won't go unless he goes with her. So young John is staying to take care of things."
    "Thank you, my good man. Give the family my regards. I must get home." And with that, Nathaniel turned the carriage so fast it near toppled over.
    "Home? Nathaniel, what about the
Belisarius?
"
    "We're going home, Phillis. Now."
    "What's happened?"
    "Smallpox."

    Smallpox!
    That word was as dreaded as the word
fire
in Boston. By the third week in February it had spread through town. Seven well-known families had it. The Glentwoods, the Flaggs, the Gylers, the Deans, the Jenningses, the Reveres, and the Hitchbournes.
    I was not allowed out. Neither was Mary. Shoppes and markets were closed, but Nathaniel and his father went to their countinghouse. Business fell off. Carriages and carts rumbled outside in the streets as people fled town. The lieutenant