“I’m taking you home.” Thomas wrapped his arm around her, guiding her around the clog of arguing citizens. “One fight is going to turn into twenty.”
They plunged in the crowd, Thomas pushing his way between belled skirts and arguing men to head towards the Ferry Lot. Music was playing, people were still singing and cheering, but there was a low rumble, an anger sweeping through the mob. Her pulse quickened; she needed to find her sister.
Out of the corner of her eye, Adelaide saw a figure running down High Street, frantically waving his arms. She stopped in her tracks. “Thomas, what’s he doing?”
Thomas squinted, taking her hand tightly in his. “That’s Mr. Burke. He’s been stationed at the telegraph office all week.”
As he ran, Burke kept a hand firmly planted on his hat to keep it from flipping off the back of his head. The confinement of the crowd barely slowed him down; he rushed right up to the lieutenant in charge of the guard at Large Arsenal. They carried on a brief but animated conversation before the lieutenant disappeared into the arsenal building.
She edged closer to Thomas. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t like it.” He was focused on the crowd, looking between top hats and around ladies’ huge skirts. “Damn this crowd. Come on, this way, we can try and cut through the Armory.”
Adelaide turned and looked back towards Large Arsenal, staring at the closed door. Though Burke had made his way back through the crowd, the lieutenant had not emerged from the building. She had never seen someone deliver a telegraph with such urgency, such panic.
One of the Armory workers shoved through the crowd, forcing his way to them. Grabbing Thomas’s shoulder, he shouted to be heard above the roar of the crowd. “Take her home, Tom. Go home now.”
Thomas tightened his grip on her hand. “What’s happening?”
The man nodded towards the arsenal. “Burke says a big force of Southern boys are on their way here. They want the Armory—and Lieutenant Jones wants volunteers to stop them.”
“Jesus.” Thomas pulled her close and pressed his lips to her temple. “Do you see your brothers and sister anywhere? Nicolas, do you know Robert Randolph? I’ll take her home if you find the rest of her family.”
“No, they’re over there.” Adelaide pointed through the crowd to where Robert and Sarah were huddled. “I see them.”
Thomas followed her line of sight and nodded. “Nicolas, stay with her. I’ll be back in a moment—if I’m not, you take her back to Ferry Lot until I get here.”
She watched him plunge into the crowd, forcing his way to her brothers and sister. Even during Brown’s raid, Thomas had remained calm for the duration. She’d never seen him so panicked, so driven to get her back to the safety of the Ferry Lot.
She was petrified.
* * *
“LORD KNOWS WHAT those Southern boys will do to us when they get here.”
Adelaide rolled her eyes and yanked her needle through the thick fabric. Mr. Burke’s news had caused an uproar in town; their father suggested she and Sarah put their time to good use by making bags to bury the silver in. Thomas had returned to the Armory. “Just what do you think they plan on doing to us, once they get here?”
Sarah plucked a silver pitcher off the shelf and added it to her growing pile. “Horrendous things, I’m sure.”
Adelaide shook her head. “But why? We’re a Confederate state now, I guess, and it would be rather foolish of them to attack their own people, don’t you think?”
Sarah ignored her. “Do you think we should bury all the stemware?”
“Be serious, Sarah. What will we eat with if we bury all the stemware?”
Her sister put her hands on her hips and surveyed the kitchen. “I think this is everything…does it look like this is everything?”
“Momma’s candlesticks.”
“Ah.” She left the room in a flurry of hoops and loose hair; a torrent of disheveled femininity.
Robert stormed into the kitchen. “Are you finished yet? I’d like to get this in the ground before it’s too dark to see anymore. How long does it take to make a fabric bag?”
“Two fabric bags.” Adelaide corrected. “And it takes quite some time. First you have to measure, then you have to cut the fabric, then you have to pin the fabric, then you have to sew the fabric—”
“Fine, fine, whatever.” He picked up one of the bags. “But are you finished?”
“Almost.”
He groaned and surveyed the pile of silver. “You can’t be serious. How is all that going to fit in two bags this size?”
“It’ll fit.” Sarah returned with the candlesticks and snatched the bag from his hands. “Did you make the hole big enough?”
“We’re going to end up digging this stuff out tomorrow, you know that?” He leaned against the wall and twirled his hat around his finger. “This is all a lot of work for nothing.”
Adelaide secured the knot at the end of her stitches and clipped the thread tail. “Are you doing a lot of work, Robert? Because it certainly doesn’t look like it.”
He glared at her, but said nothing.
Adelaide helped Sarah load the silver into their freshly made bags; luckily, everything fit. Robert secured the openings with rope and then sulked down the hall towards the back stairs. Sarah and Adelaide followed him, making it outside just in time to hear Levi declare, “Why, I think you could bury me in this hole!”
He was actually right, as the hole was deep and wide enough for him to sit in comfortably. Robert looked pained. “Get out of there, look, can’t we just hurry up and get this done?”
Levi scrambled out of the hole.
No sooner did Robert set the bags of silver into the hole, Luke began quietly shoveling the loose dirt back on top. In the deepening twilight it was easy to imagine him burying their innocence; hiding something more valuable than silver in the ground. There was something in the darkness and silence of that moment that struck her, something that quieted each of them.
Once the hole was filled and tamped down, Robert carefully repositioned the blanket of grass he had peeled to the side. He stepped back and surveyed the work, slowly nodding in approval. “That’s not half bad. We’ll have a heck of a time finding it when we come back to dig it up tomorrow.”
He looked so certain in that moment that Adelaide almost believed him.
* * *
AN EXPLOSION RIPPED through the silence of her slumber, shaking the floor beneath the bed. Adelaide bolted upright.
“What was that?” Sarah shrieked, clambering up into a sitting position. “Was that in here?”
Adelaide noticed a glow on the wall. Leaping from the bed, she dashed to the window and threw back the curtains. She smelled the smoke.
The Armory was on fire.
“My God, Sarah, get out of bed.” She grabbed her paletot and threw it over her shoulders. “The Armory is on fire!”
She raced into the hallway, nearly tripping over Luke and Levi. Luke pushed her forward. “Go Addy!”
Sarah and Rebekah were only steps behind as they ran down the back staircase. As Adelaide rounded the front of the house, she stopped in her tracks. Both arsenal buildings were on fire, flames reflecting off the surrounding buildings and reaching up into the black, starless sky. The smoke was so thick, she could barely make out the people, black shapes against orange flames rushing around the buildings. Arsenal Square was clogged with men and women, whites and blacks; everyone in a frenzy to put out the flames.
She heard Robert scream her name. “Go upstairs and get buckets. Bowls, whatever you can carry.”
Hiking up the bottom of her paletot, Adelaide thundered up the stairs and burst into the kitchen. In the flickering light of the fires outside, she grabbed the water bucket and two large wooden bowls from the table.
The water from the bucket sloshed against her ankles as she rushed back down the staircase. Robert was waiting at the bottom of the steps. “Go with Sarah and Rebekah to the Armory. The whole complex is going to burn!�
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She didn’t even respond, just turned on her heels and ran to where Sarah and Rebekah stood waiting. “Take the bowls.” She thrust the wooden bowls at Sarah and then darted off towards the Armory gates.
It was a scene out of the bowels of Hell. Flames licked at the white walls of the armory buildings, smoke seemed to pour out from every crevice. A few men had wheeled the wooden fire engine out of the engine house and were dragging the hose towards the armory warehouse.
“What do we do?” Sarah shrieked, clutching the bowl to her chest.
“I don’t know.” Adelaide glanced around frantically. “Go to the water tower?”
Mr. Kitzmiller slowed as he passed, obviously overhearing Sarah’s hysterics. “They’re forming a bucket brigade by the canal. You’d be of use there, the Carpenter Shop and Bell Shop are burning out of control.”
The smoke grew more oppressive the further they ventured into the armory complex. Mr. Frankel was there and spotted them as they approached the Carpenter Shop. “Ladies! We can use those buckets and bowls over here.”
Adelaide handed him the bucket. “Can we do anything to help?”
“No, this is men’s work.” He passed the bucket to the man next to him. “You just stand out of the way. If you want, you can try to wet the flames with the bowls. But keep back from the building—and from the canal. We don’t need to be fishing you women out from the water.”
Adelaide wasn’t entirely sure how they could extinguish flames without getting water from the canal. Finally, she noticed an untouched rain barrel off the side of the Bell Shop. She grabbed Sarah’s arm and cocked her head towards the barrel.
Sarah nodded and followed at her heels, closer than her shadow, to the side of the shop. A group of men and a few women were on the far side of the shop, but the flames on the near side burned brightly, untouched by water.
Adelaide took one of the bowls back from her sister and plunged it into the rain barrel. After a second, she pulled it back out and threw the water through the broken glass window of the shop. She could hear the sizzle snap as water splashed against flame. It was a satisfying sound.
Smoke billowed up from the building, heat flooding her eyes with tears. She tossed another bowl of water into the building and, in that moment, she watched a shadow cross from one side of the room to the other. Her breath caught in her throat—was someone was trapped in the building?
The figure stopped moving. It turned and faced her, staring at her through the flames.
It was the shadow; the creature who’d been watching her.
And just as fast she recognized him, he was gone.
Stepping back from the barrel, Sarah pushed past her and threw another bowlful through the shop window. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t stop!”
“I saw him.” She sputtered, staring back into the flames. “The dark man, the shadow. He was in there.”
“Do you think he set the fire?”
Adelaide stumbled backward and dipped the bowl into the water. “No, but I think he was waiting for it to happen.”
As the fire inside began to die, the black smoke pouring out the windows grew thicker. Coughing and gasping, they began a quick succession of turns, filling their bowls and then dousing the inside of the building. Several men and a woman gathered on the opposite end of the building, dunking buckets into a wheelbarrow full of water and tending the flames she and her sister couldn’t reach.
After several passes, Adelaide peered into the inky blackness of the Bell Shop. Between her and Sarah’s work on their end and the people on the opposite, the fire seemed to have been extinguished. She held her hand up to stop Sarah. “I think it’s out.”
Sarah set the bowl on the edge of the barrel and wiped her forehead with her wrist. “God Almighty... do you think we saved the machines?”
She didn’t have an answer. Looking past her sister, she saw Thomas Cooper inspecting the side of the Carpenter shop. After several moments, he turned to a gentleman beside him and discussed some unseen issue with the white stone. He motioned towards the Bell Shop and, in doing so, saw them standing next to the rain barrel.
He excused himself from the other gentleman and hustled in their direction. His face was streaked in soot; he cradled her face in his hand and roughly kissed her. “Are you okay?”
“God, Thomas, happened?”
“It was that fucking Jones. He’s outnumbered, he can’t get reinforcements, so he torched the Armory and Arsenals. That jackass is already across the Potomac and gone.”
“He’s just going to let the militia stroll in and do what they want?” She looked back at the Bell Shop. The embers were glowing red and crackling—and in that haze of settling smoke, she could feel the Shadow Man. He was still watching her.
“You need to go home.” Thomas pressed his lips to her forehead. “When those Virginia boys get here, they’ll rip the place to shreds when they see the destruction. I don’t want you out here when they show.”
“But what about the fires? The Arsenal—”
“The small arsenal is gone.” Thomas put his hand on her waist and pushed her towards the Armory gates. “They got the fire out, but all the guns inside went up with it. Christ, I don’t even want to think about it. The guns, the machinery. Shit.”
“I saw what happened during the raid, Thomas, I don’t want you out on the street either.” She held onto his frock coat, yanking him around to face her. “Fires? Militia? For God’s sake, the war isn’t in Harpers Ferry. The war is in South Carolina.”
“It’s on its way here.”
She looked through the Armory gates at the Arsenals. Smoke was pouring out of Large Arsenal, but Small Arsenal was completely destroyed. It was like a view of Hell. “I saw him again, Thomas. Something’s watching me. Not a wraith. Not a specter. It’s something else.”
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. “As soon as we check the buildings and make sure the fires are out, I’ll get my rifle and come to the Ferry Lot. Wait up for me.”
She nodded.
“Adelaide,” Thomas cupped her chin in his hand, holding her in place, “be careful.”
* * *
Saturday, April 20, 1861
THEY WERE A city without a nation.
Adelaide peered out the front glass window of her father’s store, staring at the soldiers swarming the streets. They’d practically shown up overnight: men from Kentucky, Tennessee, Maryland. More piled off the trains each hour.
“Adelaide, the floor isn’t going to sweep itself.”
She glanced at her father out of the corner of her eye and resumed sweeping. “Poppa, will we attend church service tomorrow?”
“Yes, Addy.” He pushed a large barrel towards the counter. “Military occupation cannot keep us from serving the Lord. Remember Joshua and the Israelites.”
“Yes, Poppa.” That certainly didn’t make her feel any better—Joshua and the Israelites fought to get to the Promised Land for years. Certainly this type of struggle couldn’t last for years.
“When you go to market on Wednesday, though, Robert will be going with you.” Her father faced her. “I have already discussed it with him.”
“Yes, Poppa.”
The door to the shop swung open, nearly banging off the wall. Adelaide jumped at the sudden motion and was shocked to see Annie Frankel squeeze through the narrow passage. “Good afternoon, Annie. How—”
Annie didn’t let her finish. “Lucy Daingerfield and her father are loading a wagon. She’s leaving.”
“Leaving?”
Annie nodded furiously, her chignon bobbing up and down. “For good. Addy, you’ve got to hurry up or she’ll be gone.”
She wasn’t actually sorry to see Lucy leave the Ferry. Lucy was spoiled brat, a hateful girl who always got what she wanted and would step on anyone she could just to get more. Still, they’d been friends since they were children. She turned to her father.
Without hesitation, he grabbed his hat from a nail
in the wall and walked to the back staircase. “Sarah! Robert! Come at once.”
They pounded down the stairs, Sarah’s eyes growing wide at the sight of Annie. Their father motioned to the door. “Sarah Jane, come with us. Robert, you’ll mind the store.”
Robert didn’t have time to argue. They were out the door in an instant, Poppa leading the way through the masses of soldiers. Adelaide had to scamper like a rabbit after him; he took such long strides.
Sarah clung to her arm. “What’s going on?”
“Lucy’s leaving.” Annie reported. “This is your last chance to speak your mind to her.”
Adelaide rolled her eyes. “God, Annie, don’t be so dramatic. You’ll miss her?”
Annie didn’t respond.
Arsenal Square still faintly smelled of burned gunpowder and scorched wood. Sure enough, outside of the Master Armorer’s house, a black horse was hitched to an overloaded wagon. Lucy was perched in the front seat, a thick patchwork blanket tucked around her.
She saw their advance and raised a hand in hello. The corners of her pinched mouth barely turned up in a smile.
“Lucy?” Sarah leaned against the wagon, her fingertips resting on the outer edge. She almost sounded sincere. “Where are you going?”
“We’re leaving.” She whispered. “Father is taking me to North Carolina.”
Adelaide snorted. “What could possibly be in North Carolina?”
“My mother’s family. Father says it will be much better for my health; you know, the country air and all.” Lucy glared at her. “Don’t act like you’re concerned for my wellbeing, Adelaide Randolph. You’re just upset you can’t gloat your bedding of Thomas Cooper anymore. No one’s left to care that you’re a whore.”
Adelaide crossed her arms, pursing her lips together. “I’ve never heard Thomas complain.”
“John?” Poppa walked around the wagon to Lucy’s father, either not hearing the conversation or ignoring it. Adelaide hoped it was the latter. “Why such haste?”
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