Chapter 24 - Shadow of Death

She is in a boat. It is the same type of boat she has seen drifting up and down The Thames dredging for corpses. She is seated and realises she is out on the lake at Little Serrant. She looks back to the large house and sees it fading into the distance. There are wisps of fog hanging in the air. She is heading towards the folly, still visible despite the falling mist.

A tall, slender man is at the bow of the boat, carrying a lantern and guiding the rower towards their location. She looks behind and sees it is Jack who is rowing them across the lake. His eyes are closed but his arms are working the oars in a mechanical motion.

As they reach the landing dock, she stands and waits for the man with the lantern to guide her from the boat. As she takes his hand, he pulls her safely onto the dock. As she turns, she recognises the man's face, but he has re-boarded the boat and is about to make his way back across the lake.

It is her father.

She smiles, feels a hint of sadness, and attempts to call after him. But the words won't emerge from her throat. Instead she mouths a soundless sentence.

The there is voice she can hear, however. Not her own. It is coming from the folly - stood tall behind her. Help! The voice cries. She looks up to the folly and the grey brick tower disappearing into the thickening mist above her. Help us! There is more than one voice now. She walks towards the entrance and goes inside the building.

Once inside she finds a lighted candle and heads down the narrow set of stairs to the dudgeon below, from where the cries, now a chorus, originate.

Help us!

Down below, the torches dotted around the walls of the cellar join the small flame of her candle to illuminate the entire room.

The voices stop.

There is only silence and a spitting noise from the candle flame. She moves toward the cages and sees the gates are open. She takes the candle and enters one of the cells. She shines the light towards the wall. At eye level she looks for the names carved on the wall. She reads - Isabella. The letters of the names are no longer carved into the walls, but written in blood. Annie in blood, followed by William, Elizabeth and Martha. There are Xs in blood too. She brings the candle's light down the wall and sees the name of Christabel. The blood looks fresh and still has traces of drip.

As she moves the candle further downward, there is one more name - daubed thickly upon the wall in blood - still fresh, still dripping on to the floor below.

Maggie.

She is startled and steps away from the wall. She begins to panic and her breathing is quick and heavy. She turns and leaves the cell.

Her eye then catches sight of the bath. She moves closer and inspects. It is full with clear water. She waves her fingers across the surface and feels the warmth of the water on her fingertips. Suddenly, the water inside begins to alter. It changes colour. It is no loner transparent but has turned pink. She looks closer and there appears to be something submerged beneath the water.

It is her again. It is always her. It is the woman.

There are torches shinning down upon the bath. The water begins to darken in colour from pink to a more substantial red. She holds the candle above the bath. There is movement beneath the water, which is growing a darker, deeper red. The water is no longer water: it is thick, red blood. The figure beneath has disappeared, made invisible by the thickness of the blood.

As she is about to turn to leave, there is an eruption from inside the bath. Blood sprays everywhere.

Her nightgown is saturated in blood. For a moment she can't see. She wipes her eyes. Standing upright and emerging from the bloodbath is the woman. Come, come, come with me, it says, arms outstretched.

Maggie, covered in blood, turns and runs back to the stairs and races to the door. Come, come, come with me, echoes behind her. She reaches the top of the stairs and exits the folly. She looks to the landing dock and sees the boat about to cast off. She runs to the dock. But the boat has started to drift away. She feels stranded...

***

Maggie awoke. She felt groggy, felt as though she had overslept, slept for far longer than she intended. She felt disorientated, felt an unusual haziness in her mind.

She was first watch and knew she had to hand over to Jack. She was glad she remembered that. Must wake Jack, she repeated to herself. But she felt lazy, unable to move her arms and legs. The room was still dark but she could see motes of dust floating deftly upon a beam of light, attempting to fight its way through a small break in the curtain.

Then it dawned on her, she was supposed to be awake: upright, alert – protecting the other two.

She must have dozed and reproached herself for doing so. As she jumped from the bed, she moved to the curtains. She felt dizzy; as she pulled them to, a flood of light engulfing the room blinded her.

After blinking harshly for a few seconds, her eyes readjusted to the light. She turned back to the bed, an empty bed.

They had gone.

She looked out of the window. Nobody. The place seemed dead. There was no noise and no sound of life. She looked to the candle beside her bed. She tried to remember how far the wax had burned down the previous evening. She then looked to the clock, twenty-five minutes past twelve, she murmured. It's the afternoon, she thought. How had she slept so long? When exactly did she fall asleep? And, most importantly, where were the boys?

She rushed to the wardrobe, opened it and looked inside: all her clothes were still present, aligned as usual. She changed into a clean dress and quickly moved to the door. She remembered she had locked it the night before, with Tom and Jack safely inside. She tried it. It was locked.

How could that be?

She moved back towards the bed and looked to where she often hid the key when she slept at night. It was still there, beneath her pillow, where she had put it. She took hold of it, held it firmly in her hand.

She felt dazed, knew she would have to act as if she were feeling ill - to keep up an act for the Countess' benefit. She had to give the impression she was ignorant of Whitmore's appearance, and ignorant of the strange conversation that passed between them.

But, she wondered, how could she face her without giving away what she had heard the previous evening? She had to remain calm, had to think about where the boys might be. She knew they would not have left without her. They may well be down stairs waiting, perhaps Jack had changed the plan somewhat, decided upon a new strategy. But how could the door be locked if they had taken the key to open it? And the phrase, get them under lock and key, said by Whitmore to the Countess the previous night, echoed through her mind. Whatever had happened, Maggie had to play it careful.

After closing the door behind her, she headed along the landing - every step filled with apprehension. And after each step, she would pause and think and decide to turn back and go to her room. But then what? She kept walking, sick at the feeling of having to face the Countess. It would not be easy. She listened and hoped the boys would emerge and tell her that everything she heard the previous evening had merely been another of her rather too vivid dreams. But by now she felt sure she could differentiate between dream and reality. And this was really happening, she thought.

Downstairs she walked into the dining room. Nobody around. It looked as if no food had been served in there all morning. She decided it would be safer to try the servants and went to the basement and entered the kitchen.

In a rocking chair, alone, next to the hearth, sipping from a cup of tea sat Sarah. When Maggie entered, she jumped up and moved to the table and set about moving things on the large table in the middle of the room.

"Have you seen Tom or Jack around this morning?" asked Maggie.

Sarah continued to work upon the artificial tasks she had set herself and replied, "The Countess is to be gone most of the day - with business in the town I expect. She'll be returning sometime this evening."

"I did not ask after the Countess, I asked about the boys. Have you seen them? Have they taken breakfast this morning?"

"You will have to speak to the Countess about any other business. Now, Christa, as you can see, I'm a fair bit busy here and need to get on."

"What did you call me?" asked Maggie.

"Maggie, my lady will back later this evening. Now I'm ever so busy," she said flustered.

"Did you call me, Christa? Is that how she liked to be called?" asked Maggie.

"I called you Maggie, they way you prefer. And I don't know who this Christa is you are speaking of," she replied, her head down, a pink glow emerging upon her face.

Maggie laughed, a laugh more in pity than derision, and left the kitchen. She had been here, she thought to herself. Christabel had been here. She was sure of that now.

Upstairs she walked out to the back of the house and looked out across the lake. Her eyes could not avoid the looming tower on the island. It looked so benign when she had first seen it from this distance, and only threatening thanks to the Countess' warnings. Now, however, this structure seemed to hold the very essence of evil within, and she had vowed to the boys yesterday, when leaving, that she hoped never set foot inside again.

Her every thought led back to the boys. She had never known the estate to be so quiet, she thought, as she looked around for any movement, any sign of Tom and Jack.

Maggie checked the stables and saw the carriage and the horses were gone. She concluded that the

Countess and Sexton were gone too. But this fact alone did not account for the fate of the boys.

Next she walked to the model farm, a place the children went most days, if only to pet the animals for a while. Some days the servants working there gave them fresh milk and enticed them with fried egg and freshly baked bread.

Once more at the farm, the servants repeated the line, spoken earlier by Sarah: the Countess would be not back until the evening. Nobody had seen the boys. She would have to speak to the Countess regarding any other matters. Servant after servant repeated the same line, like a holy mantra. But Maggie thought there was something unholy in their replies.

Walking away from the farm, Maggie began to feel desperate and hungry. She arrived back at the house and took some fruit from the dining room. After she had eaten an apple and an orange, she went back to her room, the silence of the house growing ever more oppressive and unsettling. Once inside, she locked the door, but did not know why, as there seemed not to be a soul around. But ever since the re-appearance of Whitmore, the night before, she felt a deep unease growing in her stomach.

As she lay on the bed and thought about how best to proceed, Maggie recognised an emerging seed of selfishness take root in her heart. As the day wore on, and the boys' absence felt more hopeless, she began to forget that two boys had in fact gone missing. She had forgotten about Jack momentarily; her mind had now become solely preoccupied with Tom's disappearance. She had to find him. He was all that remained of her life. And she had promised her mother to keep him close at all times, to put his health and welfare above even that of her own.

***

She gathered together candles. She was reluctant to do so, but placed them alongside the matches inside the boat. She looked around at the deserted grounds: back to the empty house, to the tranquil lake, and then finally towards her destination - the folly.

She rowed steadily across the lake and a realisation struck her: she may find the boys, but in what state? She hoped not to return alone. Or if she did return alone, she thought, at least let it be armed with the knowledge nothing fateful had happened to Tom. Or Jack.

She prayed to herself and repeated the psalm loudly as she rowed, As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. She repeated it over and over again. Yet now it felt that fear consumed her every action. Indeed every thought was filled with an ever-growing sense of terror, the closer towards her destination she moved - especially when she thought of what might be contained in the terrible crypt below the tower.

A place she would have to enter alone.

She reached the small jetty and tied up the boat. Appearing inconspicuous, with an empty house on the over side of the lake, now seemed to be a pointless and time-consuming gesture.

She reached the folly's doorway, stopped, and lit two of the candles, which she held firmly in both hands. With a heavy intake of breath she entered the folly. Once she entered the other side of the doorway, the coldness and the silence hit her and made her think about turning back. But she had a duty to her brother. She would not abandon him.

Still the silence prevailed as she stepped down the winding stairway, to the dungeon below. She came to the heavy door. She turned the lock and pushed at the door with all of her strength. It opened with a scrape and stubborn protest.

She stepped inside the cellar, turned the candle in the direction of the cages - situated to her right-hand side - and let them bring light to darkness within.

Something scuttled about in one of the cages. She moved toward the noise. She stretched out her right hand and let the light of the candle fall inside one of the cages. Inside, cowering, lay a figure. She paused to catch her breath.

It was Jack. She bent down and moved closer to the cage door and whispered, "Where's my little man?"

"Here, pass that," asked Jack, taking one of the candles.

Jack took the candle and let its light shine on the rear of their prison. There, on the floor - fast asleep - with a blanket covering his body, lay Thomas.

At that moment tears began to spill from Maggie's eyes. "Thank the Lord you are both still alive," she said. She smiled in the faint light and her hand sought out Jack's and they gripped one another's firmly, without awkwardness. "Give Tom a prod. We need to get you out of here as quick as possible," said Maggie.

"Without a key, Maggie, we ain't going nowhere," replied Jack.

Maggie's optimism faltered. Jack let go of her hand and moved to the back of the cage. He shook Tom awake and he crawled on all fours to the cage door, and placed his hands in Maggie's.

"Oh my little man," she gasped. "Oh! I thought I had lost you forever."

Maggie didn't want to let go of Tom. She couldn't imagine ever letting her brother out of her sight again. Yet the bars of his prison had the final say on the matter. For the time being at least.

As Maggie made her way back across the lake, she knew she had to act swiftly. It was with great reluctance that she left the boys imprisoned inside their cage. Yet she did not know when the Countess might return and had to hastily put the first part of their plan into action.

There was also Whitmore to contend with, and his promise to return.

As she rowed back towards the house, she remained puzzled and her mind kept turning over the story, which the boys told her, of their abduction the night before. They had no idea who was behind the deed and further said they thought they had been put deeply asleep somehow. How and by whom? remained a mystery. Jack said he had awoken feeling drowsy and it reminded him of days back in London when he and the gang had taken too much drink. He also said the darkness of the dungeon had muddled all his sense of time, and he had no idea how long he been asleep or awake.

Tom and Jack tried to piece together how they had been taken from Maggie's bed the night before.

"Someone, somehow, must have taken us across the lake and put us behind these bars," was Jack's final response. "But for the life of me, I don't know how."

As she rowed back to the house, Maggie wondered why she had not been taken along with the boys? Why had she not also been imprisoned there? Why had she been treated differently?

She also knew her bedroom door had been locked and that she had been awake until a certain point.

She tried to remember how long she had stayed awake. She had often looked at the clock after each quarter of an hour, using it as staging post to the next hour, until...

It was of no use. The long and deep sleep she had endured wiped that part of her memory away.

Before leaving the folly, Maggie apologised to the boys for her inability to stay awake during her watch. She explained she too had felt drowsy when she awoke early in the afternoon.

"I should have stayed awake!" exclaimed Maggie. "It was my watch! I'm so sorry I failed you."

"It's not your fault, Sis. It's...whoever kidnapped us and placed us here. They're to blame," he mumbled.

"It would have took more than one person to get us over here," suggested Jack. "I think we was drugged in some way."

"Why have they done this? I wonder if the Countess knows of this terrible act?" asked Maggie.

"After what passed between herself and Whitmore last night, I think it's a fair bet she does," said Jack. "When you go back across, don't mention any of this to her. Play it green, Maggie. That's the first part of the plan?"

Maggie nodded in agreement.

"Please find the key, Sis," pleaded Tom as she left the dungeon. "Don't leave us here. Please find the key."

When she reached the dock close to the house, she jumped from her boat and tied both of the empty and unused boats together. Next, she tied these two boats to her own boat, made sure they were tight and secure, and set off on her return journey to the folly. She rowed beyond the landing dock and into the bushes to the side of the steps leading to the folly. There she took the rope and tied the two boats around the trunk of an overhanging tree. Once convinced they were well hidden and secure, she rowed back to the house.

As she made her way to the house, the whole estate seemed deserted. Inside she sneaked up the stairs and headed to the boys' room. She opened the door and entered. Inside she looked around and removed a pillow from its case, discarded it, and then went to the wardrobe and took out a spare set of clothes for each of the boys. She placed the clothes inside the empty pillowcase. Next she took a shirt, a jacket, a pair of Jack's britches and a pair socks and laid them out separately on the bed. She began folding them up together and, when she looked to the side of the bed, she saw a funny old hat which Tom wore when they were out on the lake. She stretched across, took it in her hands and placed it with the rest of the clothes. She then headed back to her own room.

Maggie lay on the bed and thought through the rest of the plan. She felt herself fall into a spiral of despair: it would not have a chance of working, she thought. It would not have a chance of working if she failed to find the key to unlock the boys from the cage. Their escape was reliant on her finding that key. With the weight of expectation pressing down upon her, she closed her eyes.

***