It occurred to us that Clarinda might have arranged to waylay our party at some point along the road and simply take the money. Against such a chance, I would ride up with the driver to play the lookout, and Jericho planned to take my place come morning.
The journey was not an easy one for any of us, but I found it particularly difficult to endure. Once the whirl of preparation was done and we'd set out, I had nothing to occupy my mind except the constant worry for Richard. I was not disposed to pass the time with Nora's driver. That dour-faced individual sat silent the whole while I was with him, speaking only to the horses. He seemed to know his business, though, never once stopping or slowing to ask direction and never expressing even a hint of an opinion about our irregular expedition. An excellent man, I thought.
He took the southern road, for all we know following the exact route of the messenger who'd brought the packet to our gates. Even at this time of night London's streets were something of a snarl. He kept to the westernmost roads to avoid the bulk of the city and skirted 'round the west and south sides of St. James's Park. He then made his way through a number of turns before finally coming onto Bridge Street and thus Westminster Bridge. The water crossing was hard, as usual; I found myself pressed back into the solid barrier of the coach as it took us forward over the Thames. With a tight grip on the bench, I shut my eyes and concentrated on not vanishing and not being sick as we passed over the wide, stinking swirl of gray water.
Then we were free of it and on Bridge Street again, but only briefly, for it soon became the New Road, and we now rumbled through empty farm land. An astonishing change, that, being in a crowded noisy city one minute and in silent countryside the next. The very air was different, no smokes or night soil fumes to assault the senses, but clean and cold and heavy with moisture. It did not feel like rain, though, and so it proved as the hours passed and the heavens spared us further problems. Not that it was an easy road, being as rutted and muddy as any I'd known on Long Island. It took some practice to balance against the irregular swaying as the coach rolled over the ruts, but I soon got used to it and was better able to keep my attention on the way ahead rather than on my seating.
The miles crawled ever so slowly under us. My impatience was such that more than once I had to fight down the near irresistible urge to float up and soar ahead. Not that it would have done any of us much good. Clarinda's note had been clear enough on the time. Even if I got to the town before dawn, nothing would be like to happen until tomorrow evening. So I ground my teeth until my jaw ached, and kept my eyes open for highwaymen. None showed themselves; perhaps it was too cold for them.
I think the others managed to sleep a little, for after a few hours the sound of voices within the coach finally ceased. It must have been lonely for Nora, being unable to escape into slumber for herself, but she made no complaint or comment on it when we stopped to make our first change of horses at a large inn. Elizabeth, Oliver, and Jericho all climbed out to stretch themselves and take refreshment while Nora made special arrangements with the chief hostler for the care of her four matched bays.
"We should be back in a day or two," she said, pressing enough money on him for a week's worth of stabling. "See well to their care and you'll have this much again on our return." Her promise, reinforced by a piercing look that I recognized, left me in no doubt her animals would be the pets of the stable.
"How are things with you and the others?" I asked her.
"Most agreeable. Oliver's been even more thorough in his questions about me than you were that night. Quite the inquisitor, your cousin."
"He's not annoyed you, I hope?" "Not at all. I forgot how amusing he can be. There are some questions I'm sure he wants to ask, but his sense of delicacy in Elizabeth's presence is holding him back from too much frankness. He hardly need trouble himself, though, Elizabeth's well on to him."
"Then you're still getting on easily with her?" "Very easily. We won't be exchanging recipes or lace patterns or that sort of rot, but I think it likely we'll be friends long after this crisis is past, however its outcome. She's a very dear, sweet girl, brave and smart. I don't wonder that you love her so much."
"Yes, after Father, she's quite the best, most sensible one in the family."
"You do yourself a disservice, dear Jonathan." "I think not," I said, holding up my hand. There was still some dried blood and plaster dust clinging to my skin, evidence of my loss of restraint.
She had only a wry smile for it. "That's only natural frustration. I don't know how you've held yourself together even this long, but hold on just a little longer. We will get your boy back."
Such was her conviction and so strongly did she pass it to me that I almost thought myself under the spell of her influence again. It was enough to bolster me for miles on end, until the dawn came creeping over the vast stretch of sky on our left, and we had to stop the coach so I could take shelter within.
Nora had spared herself no available convenience in its special construction. Each bench opened up like a kind of long chest and might otherwise have been employed for the storage of travel cases. Nora had one of them lightly padded for her use, the pads containing quantities of her earth. Thus might she comfortably rest during the day. The other bench, though not so softly appointed, was cleared of the few stores we'd thrown in that I might also have room to recline. It was a bit of a press because I could not really stretch out, but no more so than in my own traveling box. It was of no matter to me; with my head pillowed on a sack full of my own earth, I passed quickly into uncaring insensibility the moment the sun was up.
The coach was quite still when I woke, though I was sharply aware of sundry noises about me: the voices of men and women, the clop of hooves, the honking of disturbed geese, and dogs barking. I cautiously raised the bench seat and peered out, giving a jump when I realized with horror someone was inside the coach. One glimpse of a dark figure crouching between the seats and I ducked, the lid slamming down with a thump, giving away my own presence.
"We're in Brighthelmstone, Mr. Jonathan," Jericho informed me in a calm, patient tone.
My hair eased back into place on my scalp. I belatedly grasped the notion that he and the menacing figure were one and the same, and the man had only been waiting for me to waken as usual. " 'Fore God, what a start you gave me."
"Sorry, sir."
Lifting the lid again, I staggered to my feet, stepped out, and let it drop back into place.
"What a row you make," said Nora, sounding rather muffled from her own hiding place.
To give her room, Jericho backed out of the coach. She emerged from her haven, looking less crushed than might be expected, though she fussed a bit about her skirts. "Much more of this and I'll take to wearing breeches," she said, swatting at some wrinkles. She gave up trying to flatten them and bade us a good evening. Jericho replied in land; al! I wanted to do was kiss her, which I did when the first chance presented itself. That pleasantry accomplished,
I had a look through the open door, but could see little enough past Jericho. Part of a muddy yard and what looked to be the windowless side of a large brick building made up the totality of our view. The coach's closed and latched windows hid the rest. Nora sat on her bench and signed for me to take the other. Until we knew better, we dared not show ourselves yet.
"What's the news?" I asked Jericho. "Are we at the Bell?"
He'd brought a lantern with him and set it on the floor between us. "We are, sir, and have been for quite some time. We found a sitting room had been reserved for Dr. Marling or Miss Barrett and party by a well-dressed gentleman calling himself Mr. Richard."
I stiffened at the name. Was Clarinda indulging in some tangled attempt at humor or simply tormenting us? Probably both.
"We've been resting there, waiting to hear something from Mrs. Fonteyn. Dr. Marling thinks the man might have been Captain Summerhill from your description of him."
"Perhaps Arthur Tyne is still too feeble yet for such errands, that or they prefer having Summerhill tak
ing the risks."
Jericho lifted one hand to indicate his lack of knowledge on that point. "What matters most is for you and Miss Jones to remain unseen here in the coach for the moment; the whole of this inn must certainly be under watch."
"We have a way of leaving without anyone knowing about it," I reminded him.
He nodded. "True, sir, but it will not be necessary, we'll be departing shortly. This was left with the innkeeper not a quarter hour ago." He presented me with a sheet of paper. I held it so Nora could read as well.
At your earliest convenience, do come and take the view at the Seven Sisters. The way is sure to be dark, so bring lots of lanterns and keep them lighted. Don't go too near the edge between the fifth and sixth Sister, for the chalk crumbles easily. Be sure to bring R 's gift.
On the reverse side of the paper was a map and directions with a small circle to indicate our destination.
"The Seven Sisters?" I asked after a moment's study. "What's that, another inn?" The markings and place names meant nothing to me.
"They're a series of chalk cliffs on this side of Eastbourne," said Nora. "A long way for us, I fear."
"At least a dozen miles, according to the landlord, sir," added Jericho.
"Then what?" I said with no small amount of bitterness. "A note telling us to turn around and go to Land's End?"
"Dr. Marling expressed a similar sentiment; however, Miss Elizabeth thinks their purpose in bringing us here may be to see how obedient we are to their orders. So far we've done nothing to merit reproach."
"Let us hope they think so, too," I grumbled.
Another cold night, another cold, jolting ride. Despite my complaining, I also thought-fervently hoped-this would be the end of it at last. Surely Clarinda would be as anxious to collect the money as I was to rescue Richard. Besides, she might not want to press us too far lest we finally rebel and seek outside help.
After we quit the Bell and finally Brighthelmstone altogether, we paused long enough for me to climb up to sit with the driver again. He had to go north a few miles to Lind and follow a thready east-west road through the downs. The softly rolling countryside held no beauty for me, but rather I imagined spies lurking in every fold of the land or modest clumping of hedges. They could well be there, too, either Summerhill or some of his men, watching from a distance. The night was moonless and overcast, but by observing the driver I determined there was just enough light for ordinary men to see by. The noise and movement of our coach and all the horses were visible against the pale chalky soil and dead grass; the lanterns were but an extra insurance for them. I kept my face well covered against any chance of recognition.
"Almost there, sir," the driver announced, and I asked him to slow and stop the horses.
The land ahead rose on either side into two great rounded hills with a well-defined valley between. In the near distance I spied more such formations, a large one to my right and several more of varying sizes undulating away to the left.
"The Seven Sisters," I said, making it half question, half statement.
"If the map is right, sir. Can't really count 'em from here."
The wind was high, carried a strong sea smell, and was, as ever, cold. It pounded at my ears and would have torn my hat away if I hadn't already tied it fast with my woolen scarf.
Not a place I care to linger, I thought as I clambered down from my perch. The others came one by one out from the coach and stood with me.
"Do you see anything?" Elizabeth asked, directing her query equally between Nora and myself.
We stepped away from the lanterns on the coach and carefully looked all about us.
"Nothing and no one," Nora answered after a moment.
I pointed at the lowest part of the little valley ahead. "There's something white."
"White?" asked Oliver, stepping forward. "Like a rag?"
"I can't quite make it out. Who's for having a better look?"
They all were, it seemed. Oliver and Jericho carried lanterns while Nora and I led the way, with the coach slowly following our little party. We trudged as best we could over the uneven ground, until the white object became more clear to us. Someone had gone to considerable trouble building up a substantial cairn using chalk shards gleaned from the immediate area. Just over a foot high at its peak and several feet across, a length of white cloth had been placed in its midst, well anchored so as not to blow away.
The sea sound came to me now, strong and unexpectedly loud. The land, even in this depressed point, slanted up and away from us, cutting off the view beyond. I walked past the cairn and abruptly halted, realizing I was getting close to the brink of a fearful drop. Far past the ragged edge of eroded chalk was the vast restless shadow of the sea, dark gray under a gray sky.
"I'd say this was the place," said Oliver, catching up with me.
"Have a care," I told him, stepping back several yards and holding out one hand as a warning. "The earth is badly crumbled here. Clarinda mentioned it in the note."
"So she did," he said, frowning. "And very decent of her, I'm sure. Now what?''
I looked left and right up at the crests of the hills, half expecting armed men to appear and come bearing down on us like a barbarian hoard.
"Jonathan, we've found something," Nora called, drawing us back.
Oliver's circle of light joined theirs where Elizabeth and Jericho stared at the cairn. I followed the line of their gaze to the white rag, which was not held in place by the weight of the chalk, but from having one end tied to a partly buried leather pouch.
"It must be theirs," said Nora. "That hasn't been left in the weather."
Jericho started to drag it out, grunting when it caught on something. He freshened his grip and pulled hard. It came free, at the same time revealing the impediment. The pouch had a long carrying strap, and the strap was wrapped around a man's arm. Thus did we discover Arthur Tyne's body.
The grim disinterment did not take long; we all worked at it. Shaken as we were after the first terrible shock, the activity was necessary to keep from thinking too much, or so it was for me. My worry of the moment was mostly for Elizabeth and Nora, on how this might affect them-until I came to understand they were far more concerned over my well-being than their own.
"Shot," said Oliver after a brief examination. "Clean through the heart."
"Why would they kill him?" asked Jericho, brushing dust from his hands.
They looked to me. As if I had any answers. "Perhaps he slowed them down."
"Or Clarinda didn't need him anymore," said Elizabeth. "Or this Captain Summerhill was more to her liking."
"Whatever the reason, they wanted us to find him, to know how easily... how easily and how willing they are to kill."
Oliver stood. " Clarinda's not going to let them touch Richard." He said it firmly, as though he believed it.
Any reply from me would have either been a lie of agreement or throwing the hope he meant to impart back in his face. Instead, I gestured at the leather pouch. "Anything in it?" I asked.
Jericho plucked it up and pushed back the thing's flap. "Yes! Some paper... here!" He hurriedly unfolded it, holding it flat against the wind so we could read.
Put the gift in the bag, then throw it over the cliff. R will be waiting below if you want him. There's a village about a mile east of this point with a path down to the beach. Go there, then come west again. Use great care and caution lest harm befall you.
I left my lantern and tore back to the cliff. The closer I got to the edge, the more perilous the footing. I didn't care. Oliver called out to me, but I chose not to listen. The last few feet I fell to my hands and knees and crept up to the fragile brink.
Oh, but it was a well-considered spot for them. From this more immediate vantage I saw how the Sisters, a series of hills overlooking the sea, seemed to have been sliced down the middle by a giant's knife to reveal their chalky vitals. The knife had been a jagged thing, for the cliff sides rose high in long irregular vertical slashes, marred with
many cracks and few if any ledges, impossible to climb up or down. At their base far below ran a wide strip of beach, covered with fallen debris from the cliffs, broken stones, seaweed, and other tidal flotsam.
On that beach I now spied several figures, a boat, and waiting out in deeper water, a small ship.
"What is it?" Oliver demanded. He also dropped to his hands and knees, crawling the remaining distance to join me. "What do you see?"
"They're down there," I said. "The lot of 'em, I think. There's their ship. Do you see it?" I pointed.
He squinted. "I think so. Where are they?" A pause as I pointed again. "No, sorry, can't make out a thing in this murk. Damn good luck for us that you can. Is Richard"
"I'm looking."
The figures huddled near the boat, which had been dragged up onto the beach. I saw several men, then a woman sitting on one of the larger rocks-Clarinda. My heart jumped right into my throat, for close against her breast she held a child-sized bundle.
P N Elrod - Barrett 4 - Dance of Death Page 33
