"I'm afraid not."

"You're not playing a trick on me now, are you? Aunt Clara always complained about my wits being slow. She was always hounding me with one thing after another. 'Did you feed the chickens, Molly?' 'Did you get the eggs, Molly?' 'Did you remember to close the door, Molly?' It was enough to drive a person batty, God rest her poor soul."

Prudence put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Look, Molly, this isn't a trick. I can't remember anything before I woke up and I had the strangest dreams."

"I have strange dreams too. In one I turned into a chicken, I suppose on account of Aunt Clara hounding me so much about the blasted chickens. I don't think I'd mind being a chicken, though. It might be quite fun-"

"Molly, please, can you tell me the date?"

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"Why it's October 13 in the year of our Lord 1649 as Reverend Crane would say. That has such a nice sound to it, don't you think?"

Prudence tuned out the rest of the girl's prattle. 1649? Something about that didn't seem right. That would mean her dream had taken place over three hundred years in the future. What a feat of imagination, she thought.

"Could I have a moment alone please, Molly?"

"Oh yes, of course you can, ma'am. I'm sorry to be such a bother. My mouth runs away with the rest of me is what Aunt Clara always said, bless her soul. Would you like me to fetch Mr. Gooddell? I believe he's over talking with Mr. Marlow and some of the others."

"Mr. Gooddell?"

"Your husband, ma'am. You don't remember him either? That's a terrible shame. I would hate to ever forget my husband, should I ever have one. I won't bother going into what Aunt Clara said about that."

"Molly, could you please find my husband?"

"Right away, ma'am. I'll be back with him so quick you won't even notice I'm gone." Molly dashed out of the tent, leaving Prudence alone to think of her husband. How could she forget her own husband? What had happened to her?

A man with a long face and sad brown eyes compacted his tall, narrow frame to fit inside the tent. He took Prudence's hand in one of his. "Thank heavens," he said. "I thought perhaps I'd lost you. Are you feeling well? Molly mentioned something in her ramblings about losing your memory."

"I can't remember anything," she said. "Who I am or where I am or how I got here. It's all a blank."

"You took a nasty bump to the head when we ran aground, so I suppose it's only natural. I'm sure you'll recover soon enough. For now, you lie here and rest. I'll have Molly bring you in something to eat."




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