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Holmes

Friday, April 20, 1821 9:15 a.m., port of Terracina

A t port since half two in the afternoon yesterday. Weather is fair. Eastward breeze at 7 kts. The cabbage stew we ate last night did not settle with me, and my stomach has been in knots. Nico, good soul that he is, gave me his last ginger lozenge, which helped tremendously.

It seems we have a thief among us. One sailor’s silver snuffbox has gone missing. Another insists his box of candied orange slices were taken from his sea chest. A few of us were inclined to blame Quinto, until he revealed that a bottle of his brandy had disappeared overnight. I have resolved to keep my diary hidden even deeper in the seams of my mattress, lest someone try to snatch it.

Tacking all morning; a day hardly worth noting in my diary, but for the fact that we have been issued a strange shift in itinerary. We are not to remain north of Rome any longer. Instead, the captain has advised we will make straightaway for Positano, much earlier than planned. According to Quinto, it relates to some urgent errand on behalf of the Mazza brothers. En route, we will stop in Naples—the Mazza docks at Castellammare di Stabia. Quinto did not expand or elaborate on the reason for this, either.

I will try, if I can, to get a letter off to Mari once we’re in Naples. I need to tell her we will be reunited much sooner than anticipated. Still, sending notice by post may be inconsequential. If we are not tied up in Naples for long, it will be a race between the postman and the Aquila . How stunned Mari will be if I arrive before the letter! She will think me an apparition, a dream.

I would feel exuberant about all of this if I did not have the nagging feeling that something is amiss.