After some days, the fevers began. In the parlor, the tea-cups rattled on their saucers. Women could not hold them steady. The children complained of head-ache, and their bones seemed to be thawing within them.

Mr. Gitney wandered amongst the guests, noting the progress of each. I accompanied him to the servants’ quarters, where he squatted by our pallets and asked each of us to describe any symptoms we might feel. He touched the head of the sickly and felt their heat.

A little boy, the son of one of the Young Men, was the first to find a pock upon him. He insisted upon showing the company. It was on his lip. All praised him for his celerity in sickening.

By later in that day, there were empty seats at the dining table. Girls had seen their palms turning scarlet. A boy had a line of bumps upon his neck like a halter.

That night, we had one of our dances. I could feel the heat rising within me. My day had been uncommonly full of the duties of the servant, my throat felt dewy and raw, and I was in no little discomfort, standing before the remaining company, fevered, playing minuets.

After some twenty minutes, I begged reprieve for a dance, and sat by the wall, looking, I am afraid, much sunk in misery, one leg thrown out, the other against my chest, when Dr. Trefusis hunkered beside me.

“This is a bad business,” he said. “They will start frowning if you remain seated. Shall I remove you to the servants’ quarters?”

My mother was dancing. I watched her glide across the floor. I was drawn to observe the various manners in which men touched her, the grasp of their hands, the motions across the looped skirts and petticoats of her gown, the intricacies of her bodice.

“When my mother dances now, sir,” said I, “men pull her more tightly to them than they do the other women . . . taking liberties . . . or they scarcely deign to touch her. Was it ever thus?” She passed from partner to partner out upon the floor. “I recall her dancing with utmost propriety and a singular beauty.”

Dr. Trefusis swiveled on his heels to face the lines of dancers. He noted them for a while, not speaking; and finally, when he spake, he said, “I am sure that it is best you rely upon your memory.”

Near us a boy owned loudly that this was a tearing fine collation; and a young maiden replied that she had not seen a more belle assemblée in all her years.

To Dr. Trefusis, I said, “None of this can last long.”

Someone had slipped a dessert-plate between the ribs of the skeleton. On it sat a half-eaten pudding.

“Hesiod,” said Dr. Trefusis, “believed that we were in the fifth declining Age of Man. First the Golden Age, when mankind was in its infancy, and the animals were paired in perfection, and the rivers ran with milk that never soured in the reeds; then from that state, when time began, we fell; and then we had the Silver Age, then the Bronze, followed by the Heroic Age; and now, finally, the base Age of Iron, when men, children of blood, ply the waves and kill for gain. But I fear that some new and even more dismal metal is upon us.”

I said, “They fear a revolt, do they not?

“If you mean Mr. Sharpe and the Young Men, indeed, they fear a revolt, though they incite one.”

“Mr. Gitney interviewed me. I did not understand his queries.”

“Octavian, there is word up and down the coast that the British are attempting to convince slaves to take up arms against their American masters. The citizenry is terrified. You are lying here amongst us, your bodies too dark to see until it is too late.” He smiled. “That is what they say. They fear you will all turn murderers.” He fell silent, wary of the maids and youths who stood near us, bantering.

“Bono,” said I. “Knew he something of this?”

“They suspected him of knowing,” said Dr. Trefusis. “He had heard the rumor of an uprising, as had they; but I believe he knew no more.”

With realization, I whispered, “They sent him away for this. Out of fear.”

“Not simply for this,” said Dr. Trefusis. “Bono was a valuable gift. A most excellent valet. Possessed of surprising arts.”

At the revelation of this further indignity — Bono’s life altered universally by mere rumor — I could not speak immediately. I could but hear the twittering of the music, and the badinage of the young persons to our side, who laughed about kisses; one girl exclaiming, “I will take the upper lip, Sarah, if you take the lower,” another replying that the whole male race smellt of beef.

“You ladies are cruel,” cried one of the youths, slapping his chest. “My heart is bursting in its rib-cage.”

Lowering his head, Dr. Trefusis murmured, “The rebels cannot stand for this threat of insurrection. They look, and everywhere, up and down the coast, they see Africans. Their slaves sleep next to the family children. Their slaves touch their wives’ necks in the mornings, as they lay out jewelry upon the breast. Their slaves,” he said, “shave them with razors. The watch has been doubled. Mr. Sharpe and the Young Men have been discussing it when none of you are nearby. They say it is an outrage, that the British should so endeavor to turn a man’s property against him. They fear that the British will stop at nothing to subdue them. It is yet another reason they prompt insurrection.”

“This,” I said sadly, “is why they have quarantined us here.”

“One reason, indeed. They predict that within the month, something will come to pass; and it is best if they are out of it, with their slaves weak, and fearful of running. All shall be changed, Octavian. The rebels gather ammunition and gunpowder just outside the city. They are ready for an offensive, come it from the slave quarters or the barracks of the King’s Army. The British will not abide this for long. Something, my Prince, shall come to pass.”

Nearby us, the young pursued their flirtation. A boy declared, “I should like to see one of you ladies hung upside down by the ankles. Perhaps you would care to guess which one.”

“Does anyone wish more Brie?” asked another youth. “I could eat Brie until I looked like soap.”

“All shall be changed,” I whispered.

“Except,” said Dr. Trefusis, looking around the gathering, “that I fear one thing shall remain. When I peer into the reaches of the most distant futurity, I fear that even in some unseen epoch when there are colonies even upon the moon itself, there shall still be gatherings like this, where the young, blinded by privilege, shall dance and giggle and compare their poxy lesions.” He balanced himself with his fingertips. “We are a young country, a country of the young,” he said bitterly. “The young must have their little entertainments.”

“I am young,” I said.

“I did not mean you.”

“I would — could I do it — I would wish to dance with them.”

He winced.

My mother fell.

Dr. Trefusis rose instantly to his feet. I could not rise with such swiftness.

Others were gathered around her. I stumbled to my feet; my leg dragged, deficient in its circulation.

Already, she sat up. Her eyes were wide. She whispered to herself. Inquiries were made as to her strength; she responded that she had a turtle’s shell upon her, would not let her vault as she wished. She attempted to swat at something — the shell — upon her back, crying with the frustration.

“She is distempered,” said Dr. Trefusis. He went to her side. “Will a gentleman assist me?”

I went and took her other arm, and we raised her up. Dr. Trefusis stumbled beneath her weight, before Mr. Gitney stepped in.

Together, we drew her out of the dance.

As the door shut behind us, the music struck up again, and the dancing carried on.