Before I sleep this night, though, I cannot help but think back on the events of the last week, and tears trickle down my cheeks and onto the pillowcase.
Oh, Jaimy, for you to have had to stand there and not say a word as I was stood up and shamed and then taken off the Juno, knowing, as you did, that if you raised too much of a fuss, Higgins's charade would have been uncovered and all would have been lost. I am so very hard on my friends.
And now, Jaimy, you are being taken back to England, once again half a world away from me. I do hope that no harm comes to you because of my actions, and while Higgins tells me not to worry in that regard, still I worry. I don't know ... So many things can go wrong in this world, and things generally do go wrong.
Aye, maybe it would be best if you found another girl when you get back to England, for as you know, I am nothing but trouble and grief. And one of these days my luck has got to run out, virtuewise. Will you still want me then? I don't know. I don't know anything. But I know I will always love you, Jaimy, no matter what you do, and where you go. I want you to know that, Jaimy.
G'night, now...
I give a sniffle and maybe a slight sob and Higgins's hand reaches out in the darkness and gives my shoulder a comforting pat. Good Higgins—you always know, don't you...
Chapter 6
Ex-Lieutenant James Emerson Fletcher
Howe's Tavern on the Post Road
Massachusetts, USA
Miss Jacky Faber
Somewhere up ahead of me on the road west
In the wilderness, Massachusetts, USA
My Dearest Jacky,
Again I write to your absent self, but this time I am completely confident that we will very shortly be united for good and ever.
I am here at the very same lodging that you stayed in a scant two days ago. I swear I can smell your scent on the breeze, I am getting that close! It is with the utmost regret that I stop for the night in my pursuit of you, but I feel that I must, for safety's sake and for the sake of sleep. And so, by lamplight, I sit here and pen this letter, in hopes that you (or our children, should we be so blessed) will read it and be entertained.
I found, upon closely questioning the landlord here at Howe's Tavern, that your own dear self and those of your party had been here and left the next day intending to head for the Allegheny River. (I know that Higgins and Jim Tanner are with you, and for that I thank God, but who is the other girl? Never mind, all shall soon be plain.)
After finding out, upon further inquiry, into what other river the Allegheny flows, I believe I now know your mind on where you plan to go and how you plan to get there. I chuckle to think that it is so much like you to seek out open water when you are on the run, or otherwise in trouble, which is, of course, virtually all of the time. I have been chuckling a lot for the past day, knowing that I will soon have you in my arms, from which embrace I vow you shall never again escape.
I hope you are not dismayed, given your deep sense of loyalty to our Service, to find that I have left the Royal Navy, and I left it quite abruptly, having dived overboard as the Juno was being warped out of Boston Harbor. I don't care. If a career in the Naval Service means the loss of you, then the hell with it. I'll find something else to do. Maybe join the Hottentot Navy, eh, what? It was reassuring to me, though, to find out that I could indeed swim, as I had not tried before.
But all of that is of no matter, as I am sure to catch up with you the day after tomorrow, at the very latest, and we shall have a leisurely cruise down these American rivers to wherever they may take us, in, I hope, a state of wedded bliss. On that, I can but hope, but I have lingering doubts, to wit: I know that you have been on the stage, and while I know that you are an accomplished actress, still, when you stood on the deck of the Juno and denied me so convincingly, so chillingly convincingly, well, I don't know what to think. I am but a poor fool when it comes to understanding you, Jacky. But I trust that all will be resolved when we meet.
I have been provided with ample money from our friends in Boston, especially from Miss Trevelyne, Miss Howe, and Mademoiselle de Lise. Such fine friends you have, Jacky. I have directed Ezra Pickering, another invaluable friend to both of us, as I do not need to tell you, to contact my father in London for restitution of these funds, which, incidentally, I keep safe upon my person. Restitution will be quickly made, I am sure, since Fletcher & Sons Wine Merchants has prospered since we recovered the losses we incurred from the depredations of a certain female pirate ... ahem, excuse me, privateer. Don't worry, you will make it up to me, oh, count on that, but not in monetary ways. Oh, no. I have many other, much more pleasant things in mind.
Your Mistress Pimm, upon presenting me with a fine horse from her school stables, said to me, "Go, young man, and find her and bring our lost sheep back to us. As I perceive you to be a gentleman, I trust you will treat her honorably."
I nodded at that and said I would, but I spoke the truth only up to a certain point. Actually, upon finding you, I intend, honorably, to haul you up in front of the nearest preacher, or what passes for a preacher out in this godforsaken wilderness, say the words, and then find a bed or convenient patch of grass, strip you of your garments, lay you down on your back, and again, honorably, finally and completely consummate our union. I have waited and suffered long enough.
That is sufficient for now. Suffice to say, there will be portions of this letter that will not be read to the children. Especially to the girls.
I have made the acquaintance this evening of two fine gentlemen who are traveling the same road as I, who pronounce themselves knowledgeable in the highways and byways of this region, and tomorrow we shall travel together. I took dinner with them, actually, and they proved most amiable. They are a Mr. McCoy and a Mr. Beatty. I am sure they will be pleasant and informative company as I continue on my journey.
Till we meet again in joyous congress, I am,
Your Most Obedient and etc.,
Jaimy
Chapter 7
Once again we saddle up for another day of travel. As Katy settles in behind me, I ask, "Your uncle. On your farm. Should you not approach that very carefully? After all, it could be dangerous, and while we are well armed, well..."
"Don't worry, Jacky, I'll scout it out some, believe me."
"Maybe instead of killing him outright, maybe you could bring him up on charges? Get him sent to prison or something?"
"Ain't the way it's done out here. Ain't much law out where we're headed, and what there is of it tends to hang around the towns. 'Sides, he'd have the law on his side, him bein' a man with property and me bein' a penniless girl. Huh! Ain't no prisons, neither. If you're guilty of somethin', it's either the noose or whippin' or banishment, and that's it."
She settles into the rhythm of the ride, satisfied with her lot for now. She has fashioned a quiver out of the leftover leather and she wears it over her right shoulder so that her new arrows are right at her command should she need them. She still wears her white headband.
We stop at noon for what we think will be refreshment at a very small wayside general store, hardly more than a hovel that has a porch with some barrels on it, but we can find no one there. Mystified and somewhat disappointed, we push wearily on.
"Jim," I say. "Ride up ahead and see what awaits us."
Jim eagerly puts his heels to his horse and leaves the rest of us sluggards in the dust. I would join him, but we cannot push these two horses too hard, since they bear heavier loads than does Jim's lucky nag.
We grumble along a bit more, saddle sore and hungry, for an hour or so, when Jim comes pounding back.
"Missy! There's a big tent in the middle of a field up ahead and to the right! And there's tons of people there!"
We spur on our reluctant mounts and eventually come to the spot Jim described.
Katy takes one look and says, "Huh! Revival meetin'."
We gaze down on the spectacle. The huge tent has its front and side flaps open, the weather being mild and the crowd being big. I'm amazed to see so many people, since we have spied so few on our way here.
Inside the tent I can see a stage, and on it is a preacher shaking his fist and roaring at the congregation. I cannot make out his words, but I can surely pick up on the religious fervor with which he delivers them. So can the crowd. They sway back and forth like people in a trance, like people transported to another realm.
"He's pretty good," says Katy, plainly familiar with such revival meetings. "I ain't seen him before, but he's good. He's got 'em goin'."
"Let's rest here," I say, dismounting by throwing my leg over the horse's neck, Katy being behind me. We all slide off and go to sit in the shade of a tree to watch.
The preacher has slipped from his harangue into a hymn, and the crowd picks up on it with fervor.
Oh come, Angel Band,
Come and around me stand,
Bear me away on your Silver Wings
To my Eternal Home.
I'm surprised to hear the normally quiet Katy humming along with the tune as it goes into the next verse.
I'm going there to meet my mother,
She'll meet me on the way,
To take me up on Silver Wings,
To my Eternal Home.
They go back to the first verse and then do the second one, except they substitute "father" for "mother." And so on, through "brother" and "sister." I'm surprised that they don't go all the way through "friend," or "nephew" or "cousin" or even "mother-in-law," but they don't. They eventually bring it to a halt, and the preacher is right on top of them with more preachin,' and I see the collection plates goin' out. Aha!
Every fiber of my being wants to be down there working that crowd with any of at least ten scams that I know, but instead I say, "Let's head off. Night's comin' on."
We leave and press onward, but I am glad we stopped. I learned a lot from that man.
Another mean tavern tonight, but we are grateful for what comfort it offers. Horses are put up, dinner is downed, and so to bed.
Good night, Jaimy. I hope and pray that all is well with you.
Chapter 8
Good-bye forever, Jacky,
No, I will not catch up with you on this day, nor the next, nor the one after. I will never catch up with you, because I am a fool. This will be my last spiritual message to you, as I will be dead very shortly.
No, I am not writing this down on paper, as I have none. I have no paper and no hope. In fact, I have very little sense left to me. No, I am composing this in what is left of my mind, in order to preserve what scraps of consciousness and sanity I may have left in this world before I depart for another.
I try to rise to my knees but am unable to do so, since one of them clubs me back down. I am dimly aware that my clothing is being stripped from me, but I cannot stop them. I swim in and out of consciousness, but in one moment of clarity I hear "Someone's coming. Finish him off."
I sense one of them straddling me and I hear the cocking of a pistol's hammer.
Good-bye, Jacky. You are the very best of girls and I wish you the best of lives, I'm sorry, I—
I hear the explosion of the pistol and feel a deep burning in my head and then I know ... nothing.
PART II
Chapter 9
And so we traveled across this American landscape—climbing up mountains and down into lush valleys, fording streams that we were told flowed into the Allegheny, fighting off the fearsome mosquitoes—on roads that grew ever narrower and rougher. The towns became villages, then hamlets, then clusters of forlorn buildings at crosses in the road. The inns petered out and lodgings became what we could find in the common dwellings of the people, those who would take us in and feed and shelter us in exchange for what we could give. We paid in kind, what money we could spare, but we were getting out to places where money was less common than barter, so I bartered some musical entertainment on my part, playing fiddle, pennywhistle, and concertina, with funny songs and storytelling for the kids. "Froggy Went a-Courtin'" was always a hit. There were many warm evenings spent around a family's table in a simple but friendly home.