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He took his half of the seventeenth-century parchment from the oilskin and laid it beside the modern map. The fine lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled with focus.

“Tomorrow, we’ll follow the river up here…” He traced a curve of blue ink. “And then we go off my map.”

Bates tapped his finger on a line that broke off from the right side of a fork in the river—and simply stopped.

“Does the water end there?” Ellie asked, confused.

“Nah,” he replied as he hopped to his feet to stir the beans. “It just goes through a mountain.”

“Througha mountain?” she echoed, alarmed.

“Maybe not a mountain,” Bates hedged. “More like a big hill.”

“How does the river go through a hill?” she demanded. “How dowego through a hill?”

“There’s a cave.” Bates poked his finger into the beans and immediately yanked it out, shaking it off. “Ow!,” he muttered. “The river runs through it. The water was always too high for theMary Leeto get inside when I’ve been here before, but right now, the level is as low as I’ve seen it. Getting through the tunnel might be tight, and it’s probably a terrible idea. Boating through a cave is all kinds of risky. You might hit rock formations under the water and put a hole in your hull. Or get in, only to have it narrow on you so you have to back out again. It’ll be chock full of creepy-crawly things. Of course… we might not need to go that way at all if you showed me the other half of your map,” he finished casually as he dumped the beans into a pair of bowls and carried them over.

They had only been on theMary Leefor a day. A day didn’t feel like quite enough distance from the boat back to England that he might happily stick her on once he knew how to get where they were going. Ellie would show Bates her half of the mapafterthey were safely away from town.

“Why should we go off-track when it might be entirely possible to press forward along the map’s course?” she offered.

“You,” Bates replied, pointing at her with a spoon full of beans, “are stalling.”

He ate the beans.

“So what if I am?” Ellie retorted defensively. “You will recall we had an agreement.”

“You actually afraid I’m going to drop you in the swamp and go on without you?” Bates challenged. “I told you, if I was out to take advantage of you, your corset isn’t about to stop me.”

He froze.

“From—uh—stealing your map,” he continued. “If I wanted to. Which I don’t,” he finished firmly and shoved more beans into his mouth.

“I am… mostly confident you do not mean to drop me in the swamp,” Ellie offered carefully. “But I would appreciate your patience for another day, if that is not too unreasonable.”

He considered it while he chewed.

The night was settling in more thickly. Bates’s face was softly gilded by the glow of the lantern. The scruff of his beard had grown more pronounced along his jaw. With his rolled-up shirtsleeves and disheveled hair, he looked decidedly disreputable. Ellie was surprised to realize she found that oddly comforting.

“Why not?” he concluded with a shrug.

They were quiet for a moment as they ate—which didn’t take very long. Ellie devoured her humble dinner as though it was the best thing she had tasted in years. Taking part in an expedition through the wilderness was apparently good for her appetite.

After she had scooped out every last legume, she set down her bowl.

“Thank you,” she said. “That was very good.”

Bates’s spoon paused on the way to his mouth.

“The mystery beans?” he prompted with a skeptical glance down at her empty bowl. “Do you need any more of them?”

“Er—no,” Ellie assured him. “I’m quite well, thank you.”

“We’ll have canned grub while we’re on the boat,” Bates went on as he pushed to his feet and plucked up her dish.

He leaned over the rail, reaching down to the water to give both bowls a rinse. Ellie realized that she was paying more attention to the maneuver than was strictly necessary.

She forced herself to study the dark line of the bank instead.