Song of the Silent Harp

by BJ Hoff

  Smart and wiry in his white uniform and peaked hat, he dazzled them with his smile and air of authority. Then, with the crew’s assistance and Captain Schell’s dark, hovering presence, he proceeded to pilot the ship expertly through the Narrows, the channel between Staten Island and Brooklyn.

  This was his favorite part of the job.

  Trying to look everywhere at once, Daniel craned his neck to take in the placid bay, the green hills, the fine houses in the distance. All around them in the water were other boats and ships: medical boats darting from one ship to another, longboats, anchored clippers. Hundreds of people thronged the dock, some dressed in odd, foreign-looking clothing, others decked out in fine apparel.

  It nearly took his breath away! He was determined to commit to memory every splendid detail, for he intended to remember this day when he was a very old man!

  He turned to his mother, who stood with Little Tom in her arms, tears coursing down her face. “We will be fine, Mother,” he said, raising his voice above the noise on deck. “God will put some people in the city for us, just as Mr. Whittaker and I asked. You will see.”

  His mother dragged her eyes away from the harbor scene to study his face. “Do you truly believe that, Daniel John?” she asked in a choked voice. “That we will be all right, at last?”

  “Aye, I do, Mother.” Even as he said the words, Daniel realized he did believe so. He had no idea what lay ahead, but somehow over the past hours an unshakable conviction had seized his heart, an assurance that the Kavanaghs and the Fitzgeralds—yes, and Evan Whittaker, too—had a future here in New York City.

  “A future and a hope,” he said firmly to his mother. “That’s what God is giving us. I believe that with all my heart, Mother, and you must believe it, too.”

  Still she wept, and Daniel promised himself at that moment that he would do whatever he could in the days and weeks ahead to wipe away her tears, to make her smile again.

  “Don’t be afraid, Mother.”

  She shook her head. “’Tis not fear. I was thinking of Tahg. And Thomas. Wishing they had made it this far, that they could have seen—” Her voice broke, and she made no attempt to finish her thought.

  Daniel nodded to let her know he understood, but beyond that, he had no means of comforting her. Her loss was his as well, her sorrow his to share. What was to be said, after all? No words could make a difference. There was no changing the reality that Tahg was gone; Thomas, too. And the both of them would be sorely missed.

  But those who remained must somehow go on, and going on, do more than simply survive. They must live.

  Over his mother’s head, he met Evan Whittaker’s eyes. Standing between Katie and Johanna, the Englishman looked frail and weak, his expression a blend of both hope and sadness.

  “Well, then, Mr. Whittaker—we made it. We survived to see America!

  Whittaker managed a smile. “We did indeed, Daniel. We survived.”

  “Thanks be to God…”

  Surprised, Daniel realized the soft words of praise had come from his mother.

  Again his gaze locked with Whittaker’s, and the Englishman nodded slightly, still smiling as he turned to Daniel’s mother and echoed her words.

  “Yes, thanks be to God.”

  The harbor rang with the sounds from the ship—familiar sounds heard every day, yet somehow unique to each vessel. Dozens of immigrants fell to the deck and prayed. Others wept for the land and the loved ones left behind. Children shouted and laughed with excitement.

  They had survived. They were here at last, in America. It was time to commit the past to yesterday, with all its suffering and sorrow and shattered dreams. It was time to go in search of new dreams, new hopes, new beginnings. Time to look forward, to start over.

  In the confusion and noise blowing over the deck, nobody heard the gunshot that came from the direction of the surgeon’s cabin.

  Engulfed by excitement and his own turbulent emotions, Daniel very nearly forgot the keys he had tucked down inside his jacket pocket. Turning to shoot a meaningful look at Evan Whittaker, then assuring his mother and the Fitzgerald girls he would return straightaway, he quickly slipped backward into the crowd.

  The deck was all chaos and clamor as he melted into the throng of immigrants lining the deck. His heart was pounding, his hands clammy, but nobody seemed to take notice of him.

  He half expected a flock of children to come pouring out onto the deck the instant he turned the key in the first lock. When no one appeared after a moment, he stuck his head cautiously inside the door. With sick amazement, he saw half a dozen young Chinese girls huddled together in the corner, staring at him with terrified eyes.

  Daniel motioned that they should follow him, but they didn’t move. Frowning, he made his voice as urgent as he could, again gesturing frantically that they should leave the cabin. At last, one of the bigger girls got to her feet, taking a tentative step forward.

  Daniel smiled at her, nodding encouragement.

  Immediately, she stopped dead-still, her dark almond eyes measuring him with fear and distrust. Daniel made no move, no gesture whatsoever. Finally, the girl once more began to creep toward him, her eyes never leaving his face. At last the others got to their feet and followed behind her.

  Gulping in a huge breath of relief, Daniel waited until they passed by him, then went to unlock the other cabin. He went through the same gesturing and posturing as before until another group of frightened young girls slipped silently past him, out the door.

  After a number of awkward attempts to reassure them that he meant only to help, he started down the deck in search of the pilot, twelve girls trailing behind him.

  By the time they came in sight of the white-uniformed American, it was too late for the dumbfounded Captain Schell at his side to do anything more than stare at Daniel with murder in his eyes.

  Tierney had caught up with the Farmingtons not long after they drove away from the hospital. He rode in their stylish carriage only as far as the Hall of Justice. From there, he continued on to the harbor in a Black Maria, one of the horse-drawn patrol wagons used for transporting prisoners. Five policemen recruited by Lewis Farmington accompanied them.

  Near the dock, a cluster of dandified runners quickly parted and scattered as the Black Maria pulled into their midst. Tierney and the five policemen jumped from the patrol wagon before it stopped, falling in behind Mr. Farmington and his daughter as they headed toward the gangplank.

  Lewis Farmington was probably one of only half a dozen men in New York City who wielded enough power to board an immigrant vessel over the objections of two medical officers and an entire crew of sailors.

  Board it he did, and, although he attempted to dissuade Sara, she was at his side. Behind them came Tierney Burke with an entourage of New York’s finest.

  The men headed directly for the quarterdeck. Sara fell back, immediately beginning to search the crowd for a small woman with black hair and enormous gray eyes.

  As they converged on the pilot, Lewis Farmington’s gaze went to the hard-looking, scar-faced man standing stiffly beside the white-uniformed navigator. A fury bordering on madness burned in the man’s gaze. That and his cap identified him as the degenerate captain of the Green Flag, Abidas Schell.

  As the policemen descended on the captain in a wave, Lewis Farmington and the Burke boy stopped just inside the ring of curious onlookers. Close to the American pilot, an immigrant boy stood like a sentry in front of a group of terrified Oriental girls. The lad was almost shouting, trying to make himself heard over all the commotion.

  Two of the policemen moved to take charge of the frightened girls, at the same time ordering the immigrant boy to identify himself.

  Both Lewis Farmington and the Burke lad started when the youth gave his name.

  Sergeant Burke’s son hesitated only an instant before lunging forward, thrusting himself into the melee, shouting the boy’s name. “Daniel! Daniel Kavanagh!”

  The tall, curly-headed Irish
boy whirled around, searching the sea of faces, his eyes quickly coming to rest on Tierney Burke, who had stopped only a few feet away.

  The two youths stood staring at each other for a moment, then Tierney moved forward. The grin he shot at the Kavanagh lad brought a smile to Lewis Farmington’s face as well, especially when he heard the boy’s greeting.

  “Pleased to meet you, Daniel Kavanagh! I’m your new bunk mate, Tierney Burke! Welcome to America!”

  He paused for a moment, cocking his head. “Say, it’s a relief to see all those girls aren’t your sisters!”

  Lewis Farmington wished he could have captured the gaping look of astonishment, then relief, that washed over Daniel Kavanaghs face. “You’re Michael Burke’s son? You came…to meet us?”

  Tierney Burke nodded, and the Kavanagh lad looked for all the world as if he’d just been presented with the gift of a new brother!

  Sara was beginning to panic. Her lame leg hindered her progress through the throng of pressing bodies, and only now was she beginning to realize the utter futility of trying to find one vague face among hundreds.

  She decided she’d best thread her way out of the crowd and go in search of her father. She was really quite vexed with both him and the Burke boy—it would have been nice if at least one of them had stayed with her.

  Edging sideways, inward of the ship, her eyes skimmed over a heavy-jowled man wearing a crumpled cap who stood shouting angrily at an entire horde of confused-looking immigrants. At the front of the crowd stood a woman, holding a small boy in her arms, with two obviously frightened little girls just behind her. At her side stood a thin, somewhat ill-looking man with glasses, a beard…and an empty sleeve.

  The woman appeared to be arguing violently with the nasty-looking man, with considerable input from the one-armed fellow at her side. Sara glanced away for a moment, peering closely into the ranks of the mob of immigrants milling around the deck.

  Suddenly, a man whose badge identified him as a medical inspector parted the crowd. He wore an angry, authoritative expression, and Sara began to push forward to hear what he was saying. Seeing one of the city policemen now heading directly toward the inspector, Sara looked back to the woman with the child in her arms.

  Her heart stopped, then skipped and raced.

  A slip of a lass…hair the color of raven’s wings…and huge sad eyes…This woman looked faded and worn, not at all like the girl Michael Burke had described. Her dark hair, graying at the temples, was pulled back, and her cheekbones protruded from a drawn and sunken face. Yet, she was the right size, and her eyes…

  “Nora! Nora Kavanagh?”

  The woman’s head snapped around, and enormous gray eyes anxiously searched the crowd. The one-armed man at her side pointed toward Sara.

  Sara again called out to her, pushing strangers out of her way. Shoving forward, she ignored the pain in her leg as she attempted to close the distance between them.

  Finally, she reached the dark-haired woman, who stood staring at her with a thoroughly stunned expression.

  “You are Nora Kavanagh, aren’t you?” Sara asked breathlessly.

  The huge eyes studied Sara.

  “Aye…aye, I am Nora Kavanagh,” she said in a soft, wondering voice. “But how is it you know—”

  Hesitating only an instant, Sara put a hand to the woman’s arm, wincing at the fragile bones beneath her fingers. She had no idea who the haggard-looking man with the empty sleeve might be, but he was obviously with Nora Kavanagh. Nodding briefly to him, Sara then turned back to the woman.

  “Sergeant Burke gave me a wonderful description of you! My name is Sara Farmington, and I’m a friend of the sergeant’s. I’ve come to take you to him.”

  Nearly an hour later, with the entire Kavanagh family and the Fitzgerald children finally gathered together on the dock, along with the weary-looking Englishman called Whittaker, the Farmingtons stood watching the bizarre procession coming down the gangplank.

  Three grim-faced policemen led Abidas Schell and the medical inspector onto the dock, while two others took charge of the little Chinese girls.

  Last came two crew members with a stretcher, bearing the body of the surgeon, found dead by his own hand in his cabin.

  Nobody spoke until the entire procession had disappeared into the crowd on the dock.

  The Englishman finally broke the silence. “Miss Farmington?”

  When Sara turned to him, she felt an instant’s surprise at the kindness and the warmth she encountered in the man’s eyes. She found herself wondering what the story was with this Evan Whittaker. Nora’s introduction had been most peculiar, identifying him only as “our good friend, to whom we owe our lives.”

  He was fumbling to pull something from his pocket as he spoke. “I’ve already showed this letter to one of the policemen who came with you. He said Sergeant Burke would want to read it also. If you and Nora would see that he gets it…”

  Sara reached for the letter then stopped. “You take it, Nora.”

  Nora looked at her, hesitated, then took the letter from Evan Whittaker, who turned and began talking with the boy, Daniel, and Tierney Burke.

  When Sara felt Nora’s hand on her arm, she turned, smiling at her.

  “You did say that Michael will be all right?” Nora asked softly, her eyes still worried and fearful. “You are sure?”

  “He’s going to be just fine!” Sara assured her. Impulsively, she took the woman’s thin hand and squeezed it gently. “Especially now that he has someone to help look after him. He’s a stubborn man, your Sergeant Burke.”

  Nora studied her with a searching gaze. “Yes,” she said uncertainly. “Yes, Michael was always…stubborn.” Hesitating, she ventured, “You—you are a good friend of Michael’s, then?”

  Their eyes met and held. “Yes, I am,” Sara answered quietly. “And I’d like very much to be your friend as well, Nora.”

  44

  A Reunion

  But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

  And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

  W. B. YEATS (1865–1939)

  Tierney Burke was determined to beat the others to the hospital.

  The voyagers were on their way to the Farmington mansion to “freshen up” before going on to Bellevue, but Tierney had declined the invitation to accompany them. Instead, he set off at a dead run from the harbor. Leaping fences, ignoring the mud, he didn’t slow down until he reached the hospital grounds.

  Nora was pretty! She actually was! He couldn’t wait to see Da’s face when he got a look at her. Of course, she did look a bit older than he had pictured her—but little wonder, what with the famine and the long voyage.

  And, of course, she would still be grieving for her eldest son, who had died before they ever set sail. Of all Nora’s children, it seemed only Daniel was left.

  At least he appeared to be fine. And he was sharp as a tack, that was certain! They were going to get along swell! Daniel Kavanagh must have dozens of tales to tell of Ireland and their trip across the Atlantic—and Tierney planned to hear them all!

  Approaching the hospital entrance now, he slowed down to a trot. As soon as he cleared the door, though, he took off at a run down the hall, ignoring the angry squawk of a long-faced nurse who had to duck out of his way.

  He started talking even before he was all the way into the room.

  Nora glanced down over the clean gingham dress Sara Farmington was hastily adapting to the newcomer’s thin frame.

  She was still dazed from the incredible kindness of the Farmingtons. After rescuing Nora and the others at the dock, both Mr. Farmington and this fine-looking daughter had insisted on taking them all home for a bit before going to the hospital.

  Home? The place was a castle! Nora had never even seen the outside of such a house, could not possibly have imagined the luxury she encountered within. And now she stood in the middle of this sumptuous bedroom, staring at herself in a full-length looking glass while Sara Farmington pinned a
nd tucked her own gingham dress to fit Nora. She had even helped Nora wrap her hair in a neat twist at the back of her neck.

  While Nora was being readied for her meeting with Michael, the children were downstairs in the kitchen, being fed.

  “They can stay here while you’re at the hospital,” said Sara, standing at Nora’s shoulder as she appraised the Irish lass in the mirror. “Father thinks your British friend, Mr. Whittaker, needs medical attention right away. He’s sent for our physician.”

  Nora turned, studying the young woman next to her. “How can we ever be thanking you for—”

  “You can’t,” Sara interrupted firmly, taking Nora by the arm and leading her from the bedroom. “Come along now. You look wonderful. We mustn’t keep Sergeant Burke waiting any longer.”

  Sara took her at once to the library, where they were met by another surprise. Sara’s father had offered Whittaker a job.

  Lewis Farmington stood in front of the elegantly carved mantel, his hands tucked inside his waistcoat pockets. “You’ll never imagine, Sara!” he announced cheerfully as soon as they entered. “It seems I’ve found myself a personal secretary at last. Mr. Whittaker here has had years of experience in just that capacity. With an English lord, no less!”

  “Why, that’s wonderful, Father. But does Mr. Whittaker know how terribly disorganized you are?”

  Farmington beamed. “He says he likes a challenge.”

  Nora looked at Evan Whittaker, whose pale countenance was flushed with obvious pleasure. He met her gaze with a nod and a smile, and Nora could almost read his thoughts: God had, indeed, placed some of His people in this city.

  Lewis Farmington had not quite finished taking charge. “As for you, Mrs. Kavanagh—”

  “Nora—please call me Nora.”

  “Nora,” he continued, “Sara and I would like it very much if you and the children would consent to stay with us for now. We’ve more than enough room, and our housekeeper desperately needs someone to share the responsibility of running this household.” He paused, smiling at his daughter, who was still holding on to Nora’s arm. “Sara, you see, is entirely too busy with her projects to be of any use to Ginger. We need a dependable, capable woman like you around the place.”