Free Crane Pond by Richard Francis Page A

given, as if she is bitter already at a loss she doesn’t even know she has suffered. Sewall wishes he’d impressed upon Sam the necessity of coming home before dark, then remembers he did do exactly that. Impressing anything on Sam is like trying to mould quicksilver.
    Bastian comes in to see if there is anything he can do. ‘What time is it, Bastian?’ Sewall asks. He can’t bear to look up at the clock himself.
    â€˜Near eight, Mr. Sewall.’
    The darkness is already more than three hours deep.
    Ten minutes later there’s a hue-and-cry at the front door. Bastian gets there first as if to shield his employers from any blows that may come. On the step are men with lanterns, in wet cloaks and hats, big boots. And in the middle of them is young Sam, swathed in an enormous shawl, his face pale as the moon.
    Sewall makes up the fire and he and Hannah stand the boy in front of it and revolve him slowly like a piece of meat on a spit, so as to warm him evenly all the way through. Betty, young Hannah and Susan have come in from the kitchen in response to the clamour. Betty laughs at the sight of her absurd brother while Hannah stares at him wide-eyed and Susan looks to one side, embarrassed.
    It turns out that Sam and Josiah had met up with a couple of other boys and the foursome took it into their heads to go fishing in Boston harbour. Sewall is incredulous. Fishing in February! Despite the thaw there are still ice floes in the water. But the boys had got it into their heads that cod and alewives are especially plump and delicious when fished out of very cold waters. Sam is not even fond of fish but in Sewall’s experience that has never stopped a fisherman yet, nor an idiotic boy. They had got hold of rods, lines and hooks from one of the boys’ parents’ outhouses, and then commandeered Sewall’s rowing boat, which is used for visits to Hogg Island and is moored at his own wharf (where lighters from merchant vessels he has an interest in sometimes tie up).
    Absorbed in their fishing they drifted a long way out. Only when darkness fell did they realise their predicament and then they rowed for an age towards the distant lights of the town, their hands numb with cold. But at a certain point they became aware of a large passenger ship coming in. Immediately, they took it into their heads to turn about and row towards it in order to see if they could recognise any of the people on deck coming all the way from England.
    The ship’s lanterns caught them when they were almost under the bows. The captain yelled out orders but the boys misunderstood and turned the wrong way, giving the side of the ship a glancing blow. One of them, Samuel Gaskill, fell in the water, but luckily his cap floated up to mark the exact spot and the others were able to pull him out.
    The commotion was heard from the shore, and soon a vessel was launched to tow them back. Then the lads were taken to the Sign of the Three Mariners, given blankets or shawls, and questioned. This is a tavern known for strange women (in Solomon’s sense) but perhaps the boys were too wet and cold to pay them much attention. Finally they were taken to their homes in turn, Samuel Gaskill being the first and young Sam the last of the four.
    â€˜I think we’ve lost the fish, father,’ Sam confesses. ‘They were still in the boat. Someone will have taken them by morning. And the boat is a bit broken,’ he concludes.
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    Next day Mr. Willard calls to discuss the escapade. He has confined Josiah to the house with mountains of theology to con as punishment. Sewall is sorry about this because it leaves Sam bereft during his remaining days at home. Sewall had contented himself with pointing out to Sam how frantic he and Hannah felt when their boy went missing and secretly he’s rather glad his son showed enough pluck to have an adventure, though the thought of four lads becoming benighted as they drifted out to sea