Page 92 of A Castaway in Cornwall
He set the pasty aside and extended his hands to catch the bulky garment.
“I have to go to Fern Haven before they send up an alarm, but I will be back to get you out as soon as I can. We are meeting a ship tonight.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Saying the words aloud solidified the conclusion that had gradually been forming in Laura’s mind. Weare meeting a ship tonight....
This, she realized, was her opportunity to go to Jersey, as she had long wished. To learn the final fate of her loved ones as she had helped so many others do. Was it so wrong to want that knowledge, that peace, for herself? And when would she ever have another chance?
When they returned to Brea Cottage, Laura went inside to speak with Miss Chegwin.
“May I borrow a dark dress?” she asked.
Miss Chegwin reared her head back in surprise but then agreed. “Certainly, my dear.” She retrieved an old gown of black crepe and handed it to her. She did not ask why, but her wide eyes shone with questions and concerns.
“Meur ras, Mamm-wynn,” Laura said in trembling Cornish, then quickly embraced the woman. Thanking Jago as well, she departed.
Laura stopped at the ice cellar to gather a few more things, then returned to Fern Haven. Setting the items aside, she greeted her uncle and Mrs. Bray, and then made a pretense of going to bed. Newlyn came in as usual to help her undress.
“I am going out again,” Laura said to the girl. “I don’t want you to worry if you come back in and find me gone. Nor to raise any alarm, all right?”
Newlyn’s eyes rounded like an owl’s. “Are’ee meeting that Frenchie?”
“I will be in the company of two respectable persons known and trusted by Mr. and Mrs. Bray. I’d rather not say more.”
“Are’ee elopin’, miss?”
“No. Not that ... exactly.”
“Oh, miss...” Wariness glimmered in the girl’s eyes.
“Not another word, all right?”
Newlyn nodded. Her expression remained troubled as she brushed out Laura’s hair and helped her into Miss Chegwin’s mourning gown, but she asked no more questions and bid her good night and ... good-bye.
Laura hoped what she was about to do wouldn’t harm Eseld’s reputation. For the first time, she was glad they were not reallycousins. Knowing how much Perry adored Eseld, Laura doubted anything she did could change his affections.
When Newlyn had gone, Laura packed the ark and a few other things into an old leather knapsack she’d found, wrote a letter to her uncle, and then blew out her candle. She prayed he would not be too worried. Considering her recent angry outburst, Mrs. Bray might actually be relieved.
Laura waited until the house was quiet, then tiptoed to her uncle’s study and tucked the note six chapters ahead in his Bible. Then, taking the knapsack for Alex and a lightweight fabric traveling bag for herself, she slipped out of the house. She didn’t ask Jago to accompany her this time. She had decided she must go alone.
She walked briskly to St. Enodoc. Reaching the chapel, she set down the bags, retrieved the hidden rope, and secured it as before. Again making sure no one was near, she climbed onto the roof and opened the hatch, feeding the rope down through its mouth.
She glimpsed Alexander reclining on a pew, head pillowed on a kneeling cushion. He rose immediately and crossed the chancel.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready.”
He grasped the rope and pulled himself up with hands and knees as she had seen sailors climb on rigging. It was an impressive display of strength.
With awkward effort, he gained the roof and stood hands on knees to catch his breath.
“I don’t know how your uncle does that every year.”
Laura retrieved and coiled the rope. “Three men stand here to pull him out. I’m afraid you have only me.”
“For which I am deeply grateful.”
