Chapter Thirteen
New Year’s Eve, 1835, Port of Fuchow
“My men are all accounted for. Are we still thinking of leaving the day after tomorrow?” Lucky asked. “Or do you need more time?”
The sizable room was bustling with men from nearly every major country in the world, from the hundreds of ships that lay at anchor just off shore or in the harbor. Every one of them here trading wares and goods for what the locals called China Gold. Tea.
“No. All my men are present,” Ian replied, “and supplies restocked. As far as I’m concerned we can leave on the morning tide.” He lifted the mug and brought it to his lips, again wondering what Sarah was doing. It was something he did frequently to help him pass the time. He’d been counting the days since he’d last seen her, upset with himself for leaving
