I burst through the mudroom door of our house and began shouting for father and mother. Mother came from somewhere else in the house and met me in the hallway between the kitchen and the sitting room. She looked very distraught and it was no wonder with the way I was carrying on.

"Mother! Mother!" I threw my tired limbs around her and hugged her. "The aunts found a man washed up on the rocks. He is alive. I've come to ask if I might stay with them and watch him through the night?" I blurted out on a terrible rush, such was my excitement.

I looked behind her at Father who had come from his study. His paper was still in hand and his reading glasses still perched on the end of his nose. He took in the sight of me and frowned. Even I knew I was behaving in an unladylike fashion.

"Come sit down child and tell us plainly what has happened," my father said gravely.

I took his outstretched hand and walked soberly into the sitting room with him. Mother was trailing right behind us.

"You have not taken off your coat or boots," my Mother said with surprise.

"I, I hope not to stay at home Mother," I explained to her. "I hope you will send me on my way just as soon as I tell you what has happened."

Now Mother frowned and cast Father a look I did not understand. They both sat in the love seat while my father told me to sit in the chair by the fire. I hardly needed to be so close to the fire with my cloak still on. Being near the flames forced me to take it off and drape it across my lap.

When I had done so my Father said, "You may begin."

I nodded and explained how the aunts had found a man on the rocks who was too broken up to get off them on his own, which is why Emmi came for me about mid-afternoon. Then I laid out for them his condition, how I helped him to the aunts' cottage, the aunts' plan to keep him that night, and his state when I left. It was so hard to be calm and to speak slowly when all I wanted to do was throw a few things together and run back down to their house. I would be very disappointed if I missed the doctor.

"Has the doctor been sent for?" Father asked at the end of my tale.

"Yes. The moment I saw the stranger I sent Emmi back to fetch the doctor. He could not come straight away she said. He still was not there when I left to come home. But I am sure he will be along."

I watched Father's pensive face. He gave a nod. He was satisfied.

"May I return and stay with the aunts?" I asked quietly, trying not to give away my eagerness to rush right back out the door.

I watched him look at me and then down at Mother. He was thinking, mulling things over, trying to make the best decision for everyone involved. He was not a rash man or an indecisive one. He was a methodical, rational thinker. Luckily this was not a situation that required lengthy deliberation. I saw it in his face the moment he'd made up his mind what to do and held my breath.

"I will ready the carriage while you and your mother collect a few of your things. I will take you down myself and will have a look at this stranger. If I think the situation is dangerous for you and your aunts I will remove him with me."

He looked down at my mother who was still clutching his hand. "How does that sound to you my dear?" He was watching her face anxiously.

She nodded and then looked at me again. "What manner of man was he, Darling?" She asked with grave concern.

I smiled at her to relieve her fears. "I cannot be sure Mother but I believe he must be a gentleman. His clothes are foreign in design. Like nothing I have ever seen but they are very fine. His hair is very long. Almost as long as my own I should think. No working man would have such long hair. It would be cumbersome and dangerous for a working man, isn't that right Father?"

I looked to him and he only said 'perhaps'. So I continued. "Also, his hands are not the least bit calloused. Only a gentleman would have such soft hands," I practically mused to myself now quite deep in thought as I tried to conjure up images of him that did not revolve around his handsome face and his very dark eyes.

"And, despite not being able to speak with us Mother, he dose give the appearance of a gentleman."

"He cannot speak?" Mother and Father said in unison. A dark look passed between the both of them.

I paused a moment before replying. I could not understand the nature of their nervous glances. "He hasn't spoken a word to us. However, he does seem to comprehend what we are saying. At least, he gives one that impression," I said thoughtfully. "Do you think the doctor will be able to speak with him? I know he speaks many languages."

"It's possible," is all that Father said.

Mother stood to her feet and motioned for me to rise as well. "Let us not tarry. I will help you pack, Darling."

Father left to get a servant to hitch up the carriage while Mother and I walked slowly and sedately up the stairs. I just wanted to rush around and throw a few things in a bag and be on my way, but not Mother. She looked over my things with care, set out each item I would need on my bed and gently folded them into my carpet bag. I sat on a chair in my room and watched her. She did not need my help. She told me to sit and be still. I obeyed and watched.

"Darling?" She asked.

"Yes, Mother."

"You wont fall in love with him will you?" she asked as she turned to look at me as if seeing me for the first time. Her eyes took in my hair, my face, my dress and then her worried eyes rested back on my own. "I caution against it, Darling. No good will come of it."

"Why Mother?" I asked feeling quite astonished by her words and the profound look of sadness in her eyes. Did she know something about the stranger I did not?

She left the bed where she had packed the last of my things into the carpet bag and came to stand before me. She stretched out her pale fingers and I took them in mine, squeezing them with affection.

"Darling, very few things of worth or value come from the sea. The sea is full of heartache and hardships. If this stranger belongs to the sea you will know nothing but sorrow and suffering."

She let go of my fingers, bent slightly at the waist and placed her soft hands on my cheeks. "Do not fall in love with him, Darling. No good will come of it," she repeated.

"I wont Mother," I said quite breathlessly.

She was so mysterious and her expression so gloomy in this moment that I almost did not recognize her. I wanted to see her smile. I wanted to lift her spirits. I wanted her to know I would never disappoint her.

I placed my hands over her own and smiled at her. "I promise, Mother."

She smiled back at me and seemed satisfied. We heard Father come back into the house and the strange spell that had been cast over us was broken. I was glad. Those were the most unusual and unaccountable moments I had ever spent with my mother. And, I was relieved when things suddenly felt normal again.

**********

Father and I arrived in the carriage just as the doctor was walking through my aunts' front door. Upon hearing our arrival he stopped and looked to us. When he spotted my father he gave a warm smile and a wave while waiting for us in the doorway.

"Doctor MacMillan!" my Father called with a cheerful voice.

He and the doctor's father had been childhood friends, as close as brothers, and Father looked on the young doctor as an extended member of the family. I'd known the young Mr. MacMillan therefore since I was a little girl, but did not develop any fanciful thoughts about him until just a few years ago when my dearest friends were getting betrothed or being married off to eligible young men in the county. Dr. MacMillan was one of only a handful of suitable, unattached men in our little village and though he was nearly thirteen years my senior, I did not think him too old for me.

Father and he embraced and I smiled affectionately at the doctor, who was looking at me over my father's shoulder. He looked on me as he did everyone, with gentleness and kindness. It was a little disappointing to know that the man I admired most (besides my father) had no particular feelings towards me. He treated me as he did everyone. He offered me no special treatment or attention even though our fathers were the best of friends. Still, I was always glad to look into his handsome brown eyes, which set my heart fluttering.

"Come to nurse the patient?" He asked me with one elegantly raised eyebrow.

"If Father will allow it," I said with a demure smile. I always tried to be the epitome of a lady when in front of the doctor.

The two men stepped into the house and I quickly shut the door behind us to keep out the chilly evening air. Aunt Jaana led them into her room instead of the kitchen and this was when I realized, to my great disappointment, that the aunts had somehow managed to move their guest to the bed after I had left. I didn't know until that moment that I was secretly hoping to assist him from the kitchen to Jaana's room. The realization made me blush with shame. Such desires were highly inappropriate for a young lady.

Aunt Emmi came up beside me and took the carpet bag from my hand. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief and I could feel her anticipation. It was stimulating to all one's senses having a stranger in the house, who had been washed up by the sea. I could not deny it. But, I reminded myself that I was not allowed to fall in love with him even if he turned out to be a prince from Persia! Mother would not be happy.

Aunt Jaana stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door.

"What is going on?" I asked in a hushed tone.

"They are going to help him into some night clothes, which the doctor brought," Aunt Jaana replied as she crossed the room to the kitchen table and took a seat.

Aunt Emmi brought her a warm cup of tea. I smiled to myself. We would be drinking a lot of tea tonight now that it seemed certain Father would not be taking the man away with him when he left.

We all sat at the table and waited a very long time before the door came open again. First Father walked out and then came Doctor MacMillan. The doctor closed the door behind him and the two men came directly over to me.

Father spoke first.

"The man has a fever and it would not be prudent to move him. You will stay and nurse him tonight Marketta."

I was thrilled, but also very alarmed to hear he had a fever. My excitement at being able to stay was further doused when the doctor spoke.

"Miss Marketta, you must keep him covered but try to keep him cool by wiping his forehead and neck. You must also try and keep him hydrated. I recommend Willow bark tea. It will help with the fever and any pain as well." He looked at the aunts and then back at me. "If his condition should worsen over night you must come and fetch me."

I nodded solemnly.

"If he should not make it through the night, come get me straight away as well," he said gravely.

I am sure I lost all the colour in my face. I felt sick. The poor creature was not out of death's grip just yet, even though the sea had spit him up. I looked to my Father. His expression was grim. He leaned down and gave me a gentle kiss upon my cheek and squeezed my shoulder with his warm hand.

I had done this before - sat up with the sick and fevered. I had seen some live and some die when typhoid fever had come to our little village several years ago. It had been a terrifying and agonizing experience. I did well to forget it and push the memories as far away from me as I could.

Now those memories came back - image after image of faces long dead. I let my eyes wonder to the door behind which the stranger was now likely sleeping. I sent up a silent prayer to God that he would survive the night and we would both be spared the agony of death.

To change the subject, I asked, "Did he speak to you Doctor MacMillan? Do you know where he is from or how he came to be washed up on shore?"

I watched him keenly. He shared a look with my father and then turned to look at me. He shook his head of orange-blond curls.

"Any idea at all?" I asked feeling a little disappointed.

What if he died here tonight and we never were able to reunite him with his family. How sad that would be.

"No, I'm afraid not," Doctor MacMillan said as he took up his little black medical kit-bag.

I was pleased the doctor had tried. And perhaps, there was still hope. If the doctor asked the right people and made some inquiries, we might still find him out - his language, his people, his place of origin.

Father cleared his throat and indicated that he and the doctor would be heading out. Standing up from the table, the aunts and I followed Father and the doctor to the door. Father gave me a tight hug and kissed my cheek again.

"God be with you, my child," he said as he squeezed my fingers.

I was a little worried because he seemed so tense. Was he afraid to leave me here? Afraid the stranger would die on me tonight? I frowned and this made him smile most gently at me.

"It will be well. Just do as the doctor has suggested."

"I will Father," I said with courage and smiled at him.

We, the aunts and I, waved goodbye to Father and Doctor MacMillan as they set out for the carriage that waited outside the gated dooryard.

Father had lit the lamp for the carriage because it was now very dark and he would need light in order for the horse to navigate the lane. The doctor climbed up and sat where I had sat only an hour or more before. His mount was tethered to the back of the carriage. The two men said they would return in the morning and bid us adieu.

Once they had disappeared up the lane and we could no longer see the light from the oil lamp, we returned inside. Emmi went to stoke the fire in the hearth and light a few more candles to brighten up the kitchen. Aunt Jaana and I looked in on our patient. I felt increasingly uneasy and could not understand the heavy feeling that blanketed me like an invisible cloak.

As we stepped into his room, I sent up another prayer to God for him health, trying to comfort my increasingly troubled mind.