CHAPTER NINEMichael thought he must be dreaming.
A small girl was looking down at him and when he opened his eyes, she rose, crying,
“Papa, Mama, he is awake.”
She stood back as a middle-aged man and woman came bustling into the room. Like their daughter they had faces beaming with goodwill.
“Why, that’s so much better,” exclaimed the man. “We thought you would never open your eyes.”
“Who – who are you?” whispered Michael. “And where am I?”
“I am Henry Sanson,” the man declared. “Here is my wife, Irene and my little daughter Penny and this is our house in Liverpool.”
“I am still in Liverpool?” he choked. “But – I was going to America – on the SS Caledonia. I do remember standing in the queue to buy a ticket, but then – ”
“You were attacked. Someone hit you on the head and ra
