The Captain's Daughter

by Minnie Simpson

  “I was told he has a wife,” said Amy, “but she was not there.”

  “Well dear,” said Sir Frank, “there could be any number of reasons for that. He might have been there on business. Maybe she was on a visit to a relative, or perhaps was ailing. Why would that be significant?”

  “I was just curious,” said Amy meekly, realizing that to people unaware of her quest, it likely sounded like a strange question.

  “You say he is married,” said Sir Frank, “I’ve got to admit I didn’t know that, but as I said, I barely know the man.”

  “I’m sorry if I seem like I’m pestering you,” she said as they started to leave again, “but the Compte that was also at dinner, do you know him.”

  “Is there anyone else you would like to know about?” said Sir Frank jokingly.

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” said Amy. She wondered if she should mention him. Yes, she decided. “Have you ever heard of a Sir Ishmael Anselan?”

  Sir Frank thought hard. He was about to say no, and then hesitated.

  “There is something familiar about that name but I can’t think why. You certainly have a lot of questions. Sorry I cannot be of more help, but if I think or hear anything about anyone on your list, I’ll write and let you know.”

  Amy thanked them, very much aware they must be puzzled by her questions.

  “Well, dear, if that is all we’ll leave now. Please take good care of yourself. And that goes for you too, Professor Emma.

  Once they were gone, Amy dejectedly slid further down under her covers. Her pillow felt uncomfortable. She put her hand under her pillow and extracted Young Werther just as Emma came back into her room. Get rid of this thing, Amy told her, tossing the book to Emma.

  Emma slipped it under her clothes, looked out in the hall, and then left. Amy lay back on her pillow, which now seemed softer. The Ramseys were leaving, she was in bed wounded, Young Werther and Charlotte were dead, and Ben was leaving her and heading into a future fraught with unknown dangers. And some mysterious assassin might well be lying in wait for her. Things could probably be better.

  Four days later, Amy sat basking in the warm sun of late August in her mother’s rose garden which was at the rear of the house. She was crocheting, which was a most unusual activity for her, but somehow it felt good that day. Suddenly Ben appeared. At first she didn’t realize it was Ben. He was dressed in the sort of clothes a poor clerk who was not enjoying the best of times might wear, and he was sporting a pair of thin-rimmed spectacles.

  When she finally recognized who it was she said: “I thought you were gone.”

  “That’s a fine warm greeting for a good friend.”

  “What are you doing here, Ben?”

  “You really didn’t recognize me, did you Amy?”

  “I suppose I didn’t, but remember I’ve been sick.”

  “Not that sick. It is really gratifying that you didn’t know at first who I was. I didn’t want to be recognized or followed.”

  “If they really are watching your house, don’t you think it would be pretty easy to figure out it was you?

  “But I didn’t come from my house. In fact, I’ll let you know I walked here all the way from the Stokely-on-Arne inn just to see you.”

  “I’m so honored that a gentleman would do that for humble me,” Amy said with feigned sarcasm and grin. “But why?”

  “To be honest, I wanted to try out my disguise, and I also wanted to see you, because I felt that my departure last week was too abrupt. I wanted to see you to let you know I well may be gone for a while, it all depends on how things work out.”

  Amy was worried.

  “Please be careful,” She urged him as she stood up, just a little shaky.

  “Are you all right, Amy?”

  “I’m much better, thank you, Sir Benjamin.”

  They slowly moved closer to one another.

  “I will keep asking questions until we find a solution to your mystery,” he half whispered for no apparent reason but the closeness.

  Amy made several small comments about his well-being and he made several comments about hers, as they drew closer to each other. They finally were face-to-face and could draw no closer. He gave her a short, passionate kiss, and promptly departed.

  As he walked around the corner of the house he passed Emma who was carrying a pitcher of chocolate. He shouted a quick greeting to her. Emma carried the pitcher over to Amy, walking unsteadily.

  “Why were you kissing that strange man?” she asked Amy.

  Amy looked up at her sister who had suddenly stopped speaking. Emma was pale and staring silently straight ahead, her eyes not moving. Then she fell to the ground unconscious.

  Chapter 29

  On Sunday, as the family ate breakfast, Emma was not there. Several times her mother sent Effie to tell her she had to come to breakfast. Each time Effie found her still in bed.

  “Perhaps she’s getting sick, Mother.” suggested Amy, “After all, she fainted yesterday as Ben was leaving. She’s never done that before.”

  Finally, as the family finished their breakfast and prepared to leave for church, Emma appeared.

  “What’s the matter, Emma,” asked Amy when she saw how she looked.

  Emma was pale and bedraggled. She stood in the door of the dining room swaying slightly.

  “Are you sick, dear?” asked her mother although Emma’s appearance and demeanor answered that question.

  “I think I have a bad cold,” replied Emma huskily.

  “Why don’t you stay home, dear, there’s no reason to give your cold to everyone in church. If you go back to bed you might feel better later in the day.”

  Amy furrowed her brow as she looked at her sister. She placed her hand on Emma’s forehead.

  “You’re running a slight fever, Emma.” Amy turned to her mother. “She’s running a fever, Mother. Maybe we should see if the doctor could come and see her.”

  “Oh dear,” said her mother, “I don’t like to bother Dr. Chisolm on the Lord ’s Day. But if we see him in church, we could speak with him.”

  As the family left, Amy looked at her sister with deep concern. She thought it looked worse than a bad cold, even though Emma’s fever was not too bad—but it could quickly get worse. Her concerns were deepened by the fact that all the servants in the house went to church. Emma would be home by herself. They left her propped in a chair in the sitting room, covered in a blanket, with a pitcher of water and some pastries on the table next to her.

  At the church that morning Amy was concerned. She remembered that when they were at Mae Bickford’s house Emma visited with little Meg, who was feeling poorly and running a fever.

  After a while, despite the fact that Reverend Howley’s sermon was both animated and interesting, as was usual, her troubled thoughts returned to the question of her own identity. She could not help but glance over at her mother. She was keenly aware that her mother must know a whole lot more than she was telling. But did she know who Amy really was? Somehow, and in some way, Amy had to pry that information out of her mother. She was determined to do it. She just had to think of a way.

  After the services, as they were getting ready to leave the church, she noticed the Ramseys were there. They must have arrived after Amy and her family were already in their pew. Once they were outside of the church, they visited with the Ramsey's. At least, all except Mattie who had rediscovered Lazarus. The Ramsey's had spent the night at Brewminster Hall and intended to return to London that very afternoon. Lady Ramsey was still worried about traveling at night because of the highwaymen. Sir Frank could not convince her that it was probably safe. The word ‘probably’ was not entirely persuasive to her. All of the recent attacks seemed to have occurred to coaches traveling west or north of London not in the other direction to the south on the Dover road as might have been expected. This was very puzzling. It suggested that the highwaymen knew in advance who they intended to rob. Most of the victims, although not all, were French families wh
o had escaped the Reign of Terror.

  When Amy and her mother prepared to leave, having peeled Mattie away from Lazarus, which had not proved easy to do, Sir Frank noticed that Emma was not with them.

  “Where is Emma, my little scientist?” he asked good-naturedly.

  “We’re a little worried about her,” said Amy. “She’s not feeling well and running a bit of a fever, and yesterday she fainted. She seemed better later in the day, but she did not look good this morning.”

  “We will try to get away from the Brewminsters right after lunch, and come by before we head for London,” said Sir Frank furrowing his brow.

  “We’re pretty sure all she has is a cold,” Lady Sibbridge assured him. “Her fever is mild, although she did not look good when we left, but I’m sure she is likely much better now.”

  “Well, Esty and I will be by right after lunch to see her and Tony,” said Sir Frank.

  Amy and her mother took their quick goodbyes but did not visit with their usual acquaintances, instead they got into their coach and hurried on home.

  As was usual, the household help rushed home immediately after services were concluded. When the family arrived home, Effie was waiting on the front steps of the house. Before the coach even came to a halt, she ran towards them.

  “Lady Emma has a burning fever,” she blurted out, her voice shaking.

  Amy hurried inside. Emma was in the drawing room propped up on a couch. Amy felt her forehead. She was burning up. Amy hurried out of the front door just as her mother and father approached.

  “I need to go and get Dr. Chisolm,” she told them, and then called to old Hubert and the coachman who were taking the coach to the coach house, to bring it back urgently.

  When Amy and Dr. Chisolm returned a short time later Emma had already been moved up to her bedroom. Amy and the doctor found her sister sitting up in bed. She seemed to be feeling a little better but was still quite hot. In response to the doctor's queries, she told him that other than the fever the only thing that was troubling her was a sore throat but it wasn't very bad.

  Just as the doctor was finishing with Emma, the Ramseys arrived. When Amy told the doctor that as soon as the trap was ready she would take him back into town, the Ramseys volunteered to take the doctor to his home. They explained that they wanted to see Emma but could only wait a little while, as Lady Ramsey was anxious to get back to London before sundown because of the highwaymen.

  “I’ve tried to convince Esty that we’re not in too much danger since one of the oddities about the recent robberies is that the highwaymen seem to know who they want to target. Most of their victims are members of the French aristocracy who are fleeing the Reign of Terror in France, and carrying valuables with them. But I can’t convince her.”

  “Not all the victims are from France,” broke in Lady Ramsey, “what about the Belmonts, and the Sidburys?”

  “That's true,” Sir Frank admitted, “there are some other victims who have been robbed. But they may have been indiscreet when they stopped at a tavern, and someone there tipped-off one of our enterprising domestic highwaymen.”

  “Some of these robberies have been on the road between here and London. And in broad daylight,” said Lady Ramsey.

  “There has been some suspicion,” said Sir Frank, “that they must have a den near the London road.”

  “A den?” Amy was curious.

  “Someplace where they hide out and keep their loot,” answered Sir Frank.

  “Remember what we found,” said Emma trying to sit up.

  “What?” said Amy.

  “Remember,” said Emma, “the pendant we found.”

  “Oh yes,” said Amy turning to the Ramseys, “there is an old ruined mill next to the river near here. Emma found a pendant at the mill. We assumed that somebody who lives locally had lost it, so we brought it home with the idea of showing it to the people who live around here so we could find out who it belonged to, but we have not had a chance to do that yet.”

  “I'll get the pendant,” said Emma rising from her bed.

  As soon as she got out of bed she almost fainted. Lady Ramsey rushed over to help her back in bed.

  “Where is it?” asked Amy. “Tell me where you put it and I’ll fetch it.”

  Following Emma's directions, she retrieved the pendant and showed it to the Ramseys. Lady Ramsey was shocked when she saw it.

  She turned and looked gravely at Sir Frank.

  “That looks like Esther Belmont’s pendant, don't you think?”

  Sir Frank looked carefully at the pendant.

  “I’m not as good as Esty at remembering what people wore, but I must confess, it does look familiar.”

  “That’s the name on the back of the pendant,” said Emma excitedly turning the pendant over.

  Amy handed the pendant to Lady Ramsey, who turned it over. Lady Ramsey looked intently at Sir Frank. He examined the back of the pendant. Engraved in fancy letters was the name

  Esther.

  “Maybe this is the opportunity we have been looking for to catch the thieves,” said Sir Frank. “Tell me, Emma, where did you say you found this?”

  Emma who seemed slightly invigorated explained about the lights she and Amy had seen at the mill. Amy said nothing, but she remembered that the only person she had actually seen at the mill was Ben—dressed in rough clothing.

  A little later, when the Ramseys leave, they take with them the doctor—and the pendant.

  For the first time in a while, Amy had worries to occupy her mind other than those regarding her origin. She was concerned about Mattie. And she was especially worried about Emma. She visited Emma several times during the afternoon. Emma reassured her she was feeling a little better even though her throat was still sore.

  “I’ve had worse sore throats in the past.”

  Amy was not convinced.

  At dinner time that night, Amy insisted on taking Emma’s dinner tray to her rather than letting Effie take it up to her. Despite Emma’s protestations Amy sat with her making conversation. Emma only ate a little, claiming she just wasn’t hungry. Later, over dinner in the dining room, Amy was cautiously optimistic about Emma.

  But she still insisted on sitting with Emma most of the evening before turning in for the night. Despite Amy’s presence, Emma slept most of the evening. Amy felt that Emma was just not herself. She suspected that Emma was putting on a front and was sicker than she claimed. When it was time to go to bed, Amy felt the sleeping Emma’s forehead. She thought the fever might be reduced, but was not sure that she was not fooling herself because of wishful thinking.

  During the night, Amy awakened suddenly, but was not sure why. She had an uneasy feeling. Going out into the hallway she heard what seemed to be talking coming from Emma’s room. Walking silently to it, she listened at the door. Emma was talking, but in a way that was somehow different from normal. Amy knocked lightly on the door, but Emma although talking sporadically did not respond. She opened Emma’s door and walked into the room. Emma was sitting up in bed, bathed in the light of the slightly waning moon, staring straight ahead and speaking fitfully, but to no one. She acted as if she was talking to someone who was not there. Emma was hallucinating. Amy had never seen the like before.

  Amy felt her sister’s forehead. Emma was burning up. Amy brought the water basin over to Emma’s bedside, and dipped the hand towel in the water. She gently wiped Emma’s face. Emma seemed to look at her but said nothing. Amy was unsure what to do. Everyone was asleep. Just then the clock chimed four o’clock. Would it do any good to awaken the others? What could they do? Should they send for Dr. Chisolm? Could he help? Can anyone do anything for a fever, or did it have to take its course? She fretted about what would be the best, until she heard the clock strike five. She hurried and awakened her mother.

  Finally, about six in the morning Amy went to the stable and pounded on the door of the room where the stable help sleep. Daniel, the stable hand, sleepily answered the door. She sent him to fetch Dr
. Chisolm.

  When the doctor arrived, after checking Emma in a variety of ways, as Amy, Mattie, and their mother looked on anxiously, he extracted from his bag a large glass cylinder, which is over a foot long.

  “This is a device for measuring body temperature,” he told the puzzled onlookers, “it was developed some years past by George Martine. Martine died about fifty years ago. He studied the effect of thermal analysis and calorimetry on the treatment of illnesses but unfortunately not much has been done to follow up on his work.”

  According to the doctor’s crude instrument Emma had a temperature of 105 or 106 degrees. This confirmed what they already knew, that her fever was very high. Amy’s mother was distraught as was Mattie.

  All day long, the fever persisted as Amy sat vigil at her sister’s bedside. Occasionally, Emma would awaken briefly but seemed little aware of her surroundings, or of Amy’s presence. She often hallucinated before slumping back into a troubled stupor. When her mother or Mattie or Effie were present Amy maintained a stoic demeanor, but when alone she tearfully prayed for her sister’s recovery.

  As the day wore on, Emma’s condition seemed to worsen. Her bouts of consciousness became less and less, and a feeling of leaden darkness filled Amy.

  Amy and her family were terrified they were going to lose Emma.

  After the family went to bed that night, leaving Emma in Amy’s capable but exhausted hands, Amy drifted off to sleep.

  Sometime in the night she was awakened by a feeble voice saying: “Amy, is that you?”

  The candle had gone out and the room was dark. Amy rushed over to the window and yanked open the curtains. The room flooded with moonlight. Emma was sitting up in bed, swaying slightly from feebleness, and looking at Amy.

  Amy rushed over to her sister and felt her sweaty forehead. The fever had broken and Emma was still with them. Amy broke down in loud sobs.

  Chapter 30

  During the next few days, Emma slowly improved, but only slightly. Her temperature had quickly returned to normal, but she was still very weak, in fact, her condition could rightly be described as frail. When Sunday rolled around, she still wasn’t up to going to church.