The Hungry Heart Fulfilled (The Hunger of the Heart Series Book 3) (18 page)

 

While Emer was
terrified for
herself, having to journey back to Ireland, and then be put in
prison before
being transported, she was nearly driven to despair at the
thought of what
Frederick might have done to her child.

 

 

She looked
pleadingly at the
constable, and begged once more, “Please, my son, I must find
out where he is,
and tell my friends. He's
called
William, William Dillon. Or if you won't help me, at least
contact Dalton
Randall, or Doctor Lovell, or Miss Myrtle Chandler, and tell
them what's
happened to me and my son.”

 

 

But Emer’s speech
was badly slurred
by the blood which continued to flow and the increasing
swelling of her face,
and the constable disregarded her frenzied behaviour as an
obvious sign of
madness.

 

 

Emer persisted in
her attempts to
persuade the policeman, but finally he grew impatient.   “There
is
nothing I can do, even
if wanted to help a criminal like you. I’ll be glad to put you on
the ship and see the back of
you!”

 

 

Emer was taken to
the docks, where a
huge three-masted square-rigged ship, the
Britannia
, was
docked.

 

 

“She is to be taken
on board, kept
in close confinement, and fed nothing but biscuit and water,
and kept in
manacles at all times. When
you
arrive at Cork, notify the authorities there, and pass on
these papers. They
will find her a convict
transport,” the constable stated.

 

 

Emer was hauled on
board
unceremoniously by a deeply tanned, gruff older sailor, who
practically
flung Emer like an
empty sack into a tiny cabin just big enough for a short box
bed, a basin and
ewer set, and a chamberpot.

 

 

She heard the door
slammed shut
behind her as she lay prone on the floor, and listened to the
scrape of a key
turning in the lock.

 

 

It wasn’t long
before the by now
familiar sensation of the ship rocking back and forth as it
sailed along began.
Emer rallied herself, and pushed up off the ground with her
hands to get
herself onto her knees.
The bunk
was fairly high, however, and it took all of Emer’s strength
in her arms to hoist
herself up onto it.

 

 

Emer managed to
eventually get
herself reasonably comfortable in the hard wooden bed, and
though a tiny chink
in the wall of the airless cabin belowdecks, she could see the
ship moving past
the docks, on its way to Ireland.

 

 

Emer’s terror for
the safety of her
child remained, but a new sense of the injustice of all
Frederick Randall had
done to her burned bright.

 

 

Adrian and the
others would find
her, of that she was sure.
And if
she prayed hard enough, her son would be spared.

 

 

Dalton would find
his son. Emer
wasn’t sure when or how, but the
important thing was not to give up hope.

 

 

Her head throbbing,
Emer lay down
flat on the bunk. She decided then and there that there was
nothing she could
do to alter the fact that her son was gone for the moment. She
was trapped on
this ship, bound for Ireland, sentenced to Australia if she
couldn't find a way
out of this predicament in the next few weeks.

 

 

She would just have
to make the best
of her circumstances until she got to Cork, and plot and plan
what to do
next.

 

 

Locked in the
cabin, without even a
view from a porthole to divert her attention, Emer determined
that she would
not give way to despair.
She was
trapped for the moment, true, but she could at least try to
regain her strength,
and, if possible, re-learn
how to
walk.

 

 

As the
Britannia
headed for the Gulf of St. Lawrence,
Emer began to practice pushing herself up and down off the bed
as many times as she could, building up her arm muscles.

 

 

When she could do
no more, she started
massaging her own legs the way Adrian had taught her.

 

 

She had come through the Famine, the
journey of the
Pegasus
, and Grosse Ile. She had survived
the dangerous fire at
the orphanage, and even childbirth.

 

 

Emer resolved that
she would survive
this voyage, and even the one to Australia if need be.

 

 

She swore silently
in her heart
then, by all she held sacred,
that
she would survive to see her son and Dalton again, come what
may. And she vowed
that Frederick Randall would pay dearly for all he had done to
harm her and her
family.

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

 

Adrian, coming home
late that
evening to an empty house, wondered idly where everyone was. He knew
that most
of the servants had
taken their day off as usual, but the housekeeper always left
him a cold supper
when they were going to be away, and at any rate she had been
given strict
instructions not to leave Emer alone.

 

 

Sissy, Emer’s
faithful maid, was
nowhere to be found either. Adrian was just about to go
upstairs to check on
Emer and the baby when there was a loud hammering at the door.
Adrian went back
down to the hall to open it himself.

 

 

“Joe, what on earth
is the matter?”
Adrian gasped, when the young man pushed passed him, and
asked, “Where’s
Emer? What’s
happened?”

 

 

“I’ve only just got
home from a
village about twenty miles away from here. I was just going up to
check on Emer and
the baby. Why,
what do you think is wrong?”
Adrian asked worriedly.

 

 

“It’s Sissy. She’s in a terrible
state, raving about
Emer and the baby being gone, and how it’s all her fault. What do
you think
it could mean?”

 

 

Adrian shook his
head as they
mounted the stairs together.

 

 

“I don’t know. Emer was meant to be going for her rest cure down to
Georgia tomorrow,
but she couldn’t have left on her own, now could she?”

 

 

“What about the
servants? Could
they have helped her leave?”

 

 

“They're all meant
to be taking
their day off except the housekeeper. She doesn't seem to be here,
though, so I suppose it's
possible,” Adrian
said.

 

 

He pushed open the
door to Emer’s
room, and then glanced into the empty nursery with a sinking
heart.

 

 

Finding the rooms
pitch black, and
both Emer and William gone, the men proceeded to search the
rooms more
thoroughly.

 

 

Once the oil lamps
were lit, Joe
observed, “There's a letter here from Emer to Dalton saying
goodbye. And the
baby’s usual things that Emer
keeps beside her are gone.”

 

 

Adrian frowned, and read Emer’s
letter quickly. “Yes,
but none of her bags are gone, though her cloak is missing. Most of
what she
planned to take is
still here."

 

 

"Are you sure?"

 

 

Adrian pulled open
another drawer,
then nodded. "I helped her organize things myself."

 

 

“But why would she
sneak off like
this and leave most of her things behind?” Joe puzzled.

 

 

Adrian sighed.
“Emer’s very
independent, and as it says in the letter, she didn’t want to
feel like a
burden to anyone, but it still doesn’t make much sense. All the
arrangements, tickets and everything, were made for tomorrow. To go
today on a point of principle
would have caused
nothing but inconvenience,
and a great
deal of unnecessary expense. And that's even leaving aside the
fact that she
hasn’t taken any of her personal effects with her, let along
what she needs for
William,” Adrian argued.

 

 

Joe froze then and
pointed. “Look,
Adrian, the pillowcases are
gone.”

 

 

“It looks like Emer
left in a hurry,
then. She must have just stuffed a few things into them, and
vanished. But
she couldn’t just walk out of her
on her own two feet! My
housekeeper might be with her, but why all the hurry and
secrecy? You
said Sissy was very upset.
What exactly did she say?”

 

 

“Sissy had run all
the way from her
to the ferry. She
had just enough
money to get across, and was exhausted and beside herself with
what seemed to
be fear.  Myrtle
had to give
her something to calm her down.
She should be fit to talk to us as soon as she wakes,”
Joe replied.

 

 

“I don’t understand
it. What could
have frightened her?
Burglars? They
might steal, but
they certainly wouldn’t take a crippled woman, an old lady and
a baby!” Adrian
exclaimed, running his fingers through his sandy brown hair in
frustration.

 

 

“I don’t like it.   But let’s not
jump to any gloomy
conclusions.  Do
your
servants have any family? Is there anywhere they might have
taken her or the
child for a visit?”

 

 

“It sounds most
unlikely, but it
might be worth a try.”

 

 

“We have to try
every idea, no
matter how silly it may sound.
She
and the baby are gone, and we simply must find them,” Joe said
urgently.

 

 

“I’ll call in on
all the families I
know of. If you could go check the train and ferry depots, it
would be a great
help, Joe.”

 

 

“I’m on my way. I’ll meet you back
here in, say, an
hour’s time.” Joe hurried off, hoping for the best, but
fearing the worst with
every step he took.

 

 

Nearly all of
Adrian’s servants
reappeared that night or in the early hours of the following
morning to report
for duty, but all were as confused as the good doctor as to
what had happened
to Emer and the infant.
Of the
housekeeper, there was absolutely no sign.

 

 

“The housekeeper
couldn’t be a
criminal or anything could she?” Joe wondered aloud, when all their
inquiries concerning
the three
missing persons drew a blank.

 

 

“Mrs. Everett was a
very respectable
widow, and to my knowledge, she had no family or friends apart
from the other
servants. I am
certain she was one
hundred percent kind-hearted and honest. She would have never harmed
Emer or William, nor would
she have helped
any one else to do so," Adrian said firmly.

 

 

"She did have a bit
of a
weakness in the heart, though.
I
shall check all the hospitals.
In
the meantime, we're going to have to report the matter to the
police. We
really should have done so before
now, but I kept hoping this was all some silly
misunderstanding, and that we
would surely have found them by now.”

 

 

Three missing
persons reports were
duly filed by Adrian, but Frederick had cleverly ensured that
all of the
constables responsible for carrying out Emer’s arrest and
transportation had
been hastily reassigned to other parts of the province, and
thus this avenue of
inquiry also drew a blank.

 

 

When Sissy finally
composed herself
the following day, she tearfully related that she was certain
the gentleman who
had pestered Emer on Grosse Ile had come to take her away with
four policemen.

 

 

All of Emer’s
friends stared at each
other blankly.

 

 

It was only when
the Bishop came to
call to ask if there had been any news, that he was able to
clarify Sissy’s
ravings.

 

 

“My God, she means
Frederick Randall
took Emer and the baby.
He was the
man who pestered her on Grosse Ile.”

 

 

“Dalton’s father,
you mean, don’t
you, Sissy?” the Bishop asked gently.

 

 

The girl nodded and then continued to
blubber, “I
should have tried to stop them, only
I was afraid.”

 

 

“There was nothing
you could have
done, Sissy.  Calm
yourself,
and tell us exactly what happened,” Joe urged softly.

 

 

“I was coming back
from town with
the shopping Mrs. Dillon had asked me to get for her before
she left for
Georgia the next day. I
saw two
constables dragging away Mrs. Everett, who looked all grey,
and was clutching
her chest like this.” Sissy demonstrated for her audience, and
continued with
her tale.

 

 

“Then two more men
were dragging
Mrs. Dillon away, and finally that horrible man came out of
the doctor’s house
with the baby in his arms.
I tried
to follow him, thinking the baby was in the most danger, but
the carriage
picked up speed and I lost him.

 

 

"I didn’t know what
to do after
that, and had no money left for a cab, so I gave up searching
for them, and
walked all the way out here to warn you,” Sissy snuffled.

 

 

“Which way did Mr.
Randall’s
carriage go?”

 

 

“Toward the river,
I think.”

 

 

“But we’ve been to
the police
station. Why
didn’t the constables
tell us they had arrested Emer, and had her in prison?” Adrian
wondered.

 

 

“I don’t know, but
we're going to
find out,” the Bishop said firmly.

 

 

Adrian and the
Bishop wheedled,
cajoled and tried to bribe the jailers outright, but were
still told the same
story, that no woman had had been brought in, let alone a
crippled one with
flaming red hair. Their
request to
speak to any constables on duty the day before likewise
failed.