The Day of Atonement by David Liss

food ten reais would buy. The boy’s muscles were still tense. He was clearly prepared to run, money in hand, should things go badly, but he was not leaving yet. Not until he heard more.
    “I can do all that and more,” he said, now sounding brighter. “There is no one who knows Lisbon better than I. I know every street and every vendor in every stall. I know every whore and every drunk.You need but say to me, ‘Enéas, fetch me the French whore who used to be a seamstress,’ and I shall know who you mean and run to her that very instant.”
    “I shall certainly keep that in mind. Here is what I propose. Come with me, and I shall not mistreat you or give you cause to complain, and in exchange I ask only for diligent labor and loyalty. If anyone offers you money to betray me, you must tell me, and I shall make it more profitable to reject that offer. If you should choose to betray me regardless, I can promise you a swift death. Is this a bargain you care to make?”
    The boy cocked his head as he considered the offer. “Will there be buggery?”
    “I shan’t indulge,” I said, “but you may pursue your own interests when you are not otherwise engaged.”
    Enéas snorted out a laugh. “I accept your offer. I was a slave to those men, and never earned a coin for my labor or my sorrow. It is said that the English treat their servants well.”
    “Some do, and some do not,” I said. “I do. You will return to my inn and sleep in my front room there. You will eat upon my bill, and rest until dawn. And then I shall put you to work.”
    “What manner of work, my master?”
    “Seeking information and not being detected.”
    The boy nodded and grinned as though this were the very thing of which he had always dreamed.

Chapter 6
    The next morning, I took a leisurely breakfast of bread and cheese. Enéas had settled into his new position with wonderful alacrity, waking early, preparing hot water and fetching my food. Naturally, I watched him for signs that he was merely biding his time, waiting to steal something of value and flee, but Enéas seemed to appreciate that fate had thrown an inexplicably good opportunity in his path, and he was not about to spurn it. Some men are born to cut purses and throats, and some to draw baths and pour tea. Enéas, I felt certain, was of the latter category.
    If anything, I would have to work on making certain he was not overly solicitous. I did not want him reordering my trunk or folding my clothes or dusting my desk. I explained to the boy that his task was to run errands, deliver messages, and bring my meals when I had chosen to eat in private. Otherwise, he was at his leisure. This concept confoundedthe boy. Leisure in his life among the Gypsies, I supposed, had been the time Enéas awaited his next torment.
    Having finished the last of his bread, I now looked at the boy, who appeared to have no other business at the moment than staring at me with his huge brown eyes, full of equal measures of fear and expectation. “You have eaten already?” I asked him.
    “Please forgive me!” Enéas cried, throwing his hands in the air. “You said last night that I might eat upon your bill, and so I took a portion for myself. If this was wrong, I beg you will work me day and night to make amends.”
    “You are of no use to me if you don’t eat,” I answered, perhaps a little sharply. I understood that half of this performance was genuine, the other half masquerade, and I found both parts equally tiresome. “Take your fill, and think no more of it. But eat no more than you require.” This last I added lest too much kindness make the boy mistrust me.
    “I shall be no glutton!” Enéas said. “I swear by all the saints.”
    I leaned forward. “Then you are ready to work?”
    Enéas clapped his hands together. “You must but tell me what to do.”
    “I need you to find someone for me. I will tell you what I know of him, but it is many years since I’ve seen him, so I cannot say the