The screaming rails stirred Ottaline slightly from her sleep. She had been learning to sleep through the sound as the train came to different stops during the nights. She sat up slightly in the top bunk when she felt someone shaking her.

"This is our stop," Granville said as he stood in the dimly lit room.

Ottaline groaned. She didn't think she had ever felt this tired before. It took all her effort to climb down from the bunk. She tied on her bonnet and yoke cape as Granville put on his hat. As she looked up at him he sighed and she looked down.

"I won't send you back."

Her head shot up.

"I suppose it would have been a longer ride if it weren't for your company."

Ottaline jumped up and down. "Thank you!" she said. "I promise I'm here to help."

Granville checked the latches on the trunk. "Just promise to stay close. You've never been to a city like Chicago before and you could get lost."

"I understand," Ottaline said sitting herself on the bottom bunk. "Have you ever been?"

"My mother took my sister and me to the World's Columbian Exposition," Granville said. "We rode the Ferris wheel. It held sixty passengers can you believe that. Lit up at night it was quite the sight."

"Wow," Ottaline said. "It must have really been amazing. I've heard people talk about it before. I've been to a carnival but the World's Fair sounds like nothing I've ever seen."

"Most would agree. There will be another one next year in Missouri, maybe you could go then," Granville said. With a sigh he sat himself on the bed as the train slowed and rocked toward the station.

"I'm sorry I caused you trouble," Ottaline said. "I just really wanted to help."

Granville looked at her then at the wall. "Forget it, Ottaline," he said. "You're here now and perhaps you are right. Maybe I will need your help. Mr. Thomason might need a handy maid to clean his studio."

Ottaline's shoulders dropped.

Granville burst out laughing. "I was only joking." He raised his head and listened to the voices outside the room. "Now remember to stay close. I don't want to lose you in the crowd."

Ottaline got up and secured her bonnet and yoke around her neck. She knew the tone one used when they spoke of thieves and vandals.

The train came to a halt with a hiss and voices and footsteps echoed up the hall. Granville opened the door and stepped into the mahogany interior. A steward walked toward him and smiled. "We'll have you bags out in a minute sir," he said.

Granville nodded then stepped back into the room. He signaled Ottaline after him and she hurried into the vestibule making the steward gasp. Granville looked over his shoulder and smiled at the young man who stood slack jawed staring at them.

Outside another worker helped them step down from the train. Darkness still covered the land but the station lights were plenty to see by. There were a considerable amount of people for the hour bustling about in their lives.

Granville reached down and took Ottaline by the arm and they made their way over to a coach.

"Can I be of assistance this morning?" the coachman asked.

"Happy to have your service," Granville said.

"Southerners?" The coachman questioned. "What brings you out this way?" At that moment the trunk arrived and the coachman stepped down to help load it.

Granville opened the door to the coach and he and Ottaline climbed inside. "Better not to let people know our business," he said as he looked out the window.

"Such a busy place," Ottaline said. "I wonder what it's like for the people who live here."

"I suppose they are used to it," Granville said. "They'd probably loath our little town."

"I'd rather a little town then all of this happening around me," Ottaline said. She slumped down in the seat and rested her head to the side.

Granville turned back to the window and let her sleep.

After the coachman made sure they were situated he took the address and got them on their way.

Morning had dawned fully when they arrived at Thomas Thomason's place. The tall thin man was standing outside waiting on them with a cigarette between his fingers.

"I didn't know you were bringing company," he said, looking down his long nose at Ottaline as they stepped out of the coach.

"Thomas, this is Ottaline Sabbath. Ottaline meet Mr. Thomason."

Ottaline extended her hand to shake the man's and watched as his swallowed it up.

"Well there is a spare room at the back of the house she can use. She's a small one so she won't be too cramped." He dropped his cigarette and stamped it out then gestured for them to follow him inside. "You can leave the luggage here," he said to the coachman and tipped him extra. "Pleasure doing business."

Granville and Ottaline looked around the open room. A sofa, two end tables and a lounge chair broke the living room up from the kitchen. Straight ahead was a door and adjacent it a flight of stairs.

"This is the living quarters as you can tell," Thomas said. "The shop is right out front and opens onto the main street."

"Shop?" Granville questioned.

"Pewter dishes," Thomas said. He took long strides over to the door and led them through. The two guests looked around the store. Tables and shelves of pewter cutlery filled it. The dim silvery dishes cast a sheen in the light.

Ottaline stepped into the shop. The sign on the front door facing her said open and the shades were drawn shut. She then had to remind herself that today was Sunday. She turned to a shelf where a glimpse of white caught her eye. Bending down she looked at the daintily painted saucer accompanied by several other dishes wrapped in newspaper. All stuffed into a crate.

"This one here is ceramic," she said to Granville who had wondered into the shop.

Granville bent down and looked at the fancy painted ducklings and daisies. "Must take a steady hand."

"Those were made by the immigrant girls at Hull House." Thomas said from the door. "The customer wasn't happy with them so she sold them to me. It was after I accepted them that I realized I had no use for them myself."

Ottaline and Granville joined him back in the living quarters and he closed the door. Suggesting they get rested up from the journey he helped them upstairs. The room given to Granville was a fair size but Ottaline shuddered when Thomas led her still deeper into the house to a small door. He opened it to a bed and a window.

"It will suffice," Ottaline said though the room gave her shivers. She turned to the far wall and her heart jumped. Taking up most of the space in the room was a harp. Ottaline looked around the room. Compared to it the harp shone like polished gold.

"Are you sure you will be comfortable in here?" Granville asked as he peaked in. "It's rather drafty, Thomas." He looked at the far corner of the room and his heart caught in his throat. "What's that doing here?"

Thomas looked at the harp. "Your mother sold it to mine, don't you remember?" he said.

"And you've kept it all this time?" Granville asked.

"I guess I've grown attached to it." Thomas shrugged.

Granville ran his hand over the body of the harp. Memories flooded him, filling him to the rim.

Ottaline watched sadly. She couldn't imagine the pain of losing her sister. Her father had been enough and to lose all your family in violent ways... She tore her gaze away.

"I'll let you two get settled in." Thomas said and left up the hall.

Ottaline sank down onto the bed as Granville brushed the strings of golden hair. "Poor thing," he finally spoke. He turned to Ottaline and smiled. "It is far too drafty in here, Ottaline take the other room."

/

After sitting through a quiet breakfast on Monday morning, Idris went again to check the post for a letter from his brother leaving Providence to her lessons.

After her lessons were complete Providence saw to other chores around the house. Filling the days was hard without Ottaline to suggest something spontaneous and thrilling. Finally she climbed the attic stairs. The floor up there really was perfect for dancing. She gave it a good sweep then set up the gramophone on some boxes.

As the music played she danced in time, the skirt of her folk dress puffing out around her. She spun in the shifting light closing her eyes and imagining she was in some German field on a lovely spring day. She gasped when she was suddenly thrown off balance and unable to correct herself she was pitched to the floor.

With an aggravated sigh she stopped the record. "Stupid brace!" She scolded and turned to rub her leg. "You're always tripping me u—" She paused when she noticed the lose board in the floor by her foot. She flipped the small plank out of the way and swatted at the dust. She tilted her head so that the window light could shine into the hole. As the rays danced into the niche brown leather caught her eyes.

With both hands Providence reached into the hole and pulled out the embossed leather book. Her eyes lit up with wonder. She ran her fingers over the paisley design then setting the book down on the floor she opened the cover. The dog eared yellowed pages fluttered up then back down. Photographs and news papers clippings also filled the book. She picked up a photograph of a woman on a dark horse.

"Brigit?"

She turned the page and had to turn the whole book for the words to be right side up. She studied the names and quickly realized they were the names of places, with strange dark squiggly lines running down from them. Familiarity waked in her brain. She had seen this before. "Mr. Idris' map..." She followed the three lines, each mimicking the ones he had shown her then her finger paused. "Four?" She frowned. "A forth tunnel?" She looked up. "What's she trying to say?" She read the names again. "Rail Tunnel, Richmond Tunnel. Peak Tunnel." Then the last one. "Kitsune Den." She whispered the words. Not wasting another second she jumped up. Clutching the book tightly she hurried downstairs and to the back of the house. "Come on, Bach I need you!" she said to the elk as she mounted him. "We've got to show Mr. Idris what I've found."

With his head raised, Bach skipped out of the yard and down the lane toward town.

Idris happened to look toward the window in time to see Providence running up the porch. She entered the post office out of breath looking every which way.

"Mr. Idris!" she shouted when she spotted him, receiving a disapproving look from the post master.

"Is something wrong, Providence?" Idris said taking his mail from the counter and turning to her.

"Look what I've found," Providence lowered her voice and revealed the book. "It's Miss Brigit's. I think it might be a diary but look at this."

Idris looked up as the door opened and he pulled Providence into the corner of the office then looked down at the book. "That looks like my map," he said as he examined the open page.

"That's what I thought," Providence said. "But look, we mapped three tunnels and this one shows four. There is another tunnel that goes off toward the sea."

The door opened again and Idris pushed Providence behind him as Jude entered the post office. He went straight to the counter and crossed his arms as he waited behind the other customer.

"I think we had better read that in a safer place," Idris said. He took the book from Providence and stuffed it in his bag along with his mail. At that moment Jude looked directly at them.

"Mr. St. Cloud," he said with a smile. "I haven't seen you by the house in a while."

Idris approached and shook his hand. "I am no longer employed by Mr. Richmond," he said. "We simply did not see eye to eye on his plans."

" How so?"

"Well for one I think it a fool thing to cut down the wood," Idris said. "With that nasty swamp it won't be good for any sort of profit. Better to accept it for how it is and find a more lucrative way to make money."

Jude flashed a smile that told all of his family's secrets. "We'll do that," he said and turned to the counter as he was called up.

Idris and Providence quickly took their leave. Outside they were greeted by a warm stiff breeze coming from over the sea. "Did you see his face?"

"Could the ship arrive earlier than expected if the seas are favorable?" Providence asked.

"I suppose," Idris said. "We need to find out where that fourth tunnel is. I'll start toward the cemetery. You hurry back to the house and get a lantern, I'll meet you there."

Providence nodded and mounted Bach, quickly starting him back toward the house.