He's in the middle of a mouthful when Jacob says 1868, and he very nearly chokes on it. The man hardly looks old enough to have been here that long. And did he say that it is 1868? Maybe Arthur isn't delirious, because he doesn't think he could make this up, but that doesn't help the matter.

"Excuse me?" he says, his voice a little hoarse before he clears his throat. "1868? That ain't right. That's thirty years ago."