“Agreed,” Eliza said, placing her hand in the center of their circle. Catherine immediately clasped it, and Theresa did the same.
Reluctantly, Alice reached up from her seated position and placed her hand atop the others. “Agreed,” she repeated.
That night Eliza and Catherine were silent as they dressed for the treasure hunt. Eliza donned her drabbest dress—a black, shapeless, long-sleeved frock her mother had bought her for her elderly neighbor’s funeral—and her fingers quaked as she fastened the buttons. Somehow she managed to clasp the gold locket around her neck, but not before dropping it four times.
Get a hold of yourself, Eliza. This is exactly the type of adventure you crave,
she told herself.
A sudden rap on the door startled her out of her wits, and Catherine actually yelped. They looked at each other and then laughed.
“I suppose I’m a bit on edge,” Catherine said, blushing.
“As am I,” Eliza admitted. “Come in!”
Helen opened the door, holding a package wrapped in plain brown paper. “This came for you, Miss Williams,” she said.
“For me?” Eliza asked with surprise as she accepted the package. She could tell by its weight that it was a book.
“Who’s it from?” Catherine asked, tilting her head to see the package.
“It doesn’t say,” Eliza replied. “But if it’s a book, it’s probably from my father.”
Helen hovered in the door, eyeing Eliza’s and Catherine’s dark dresses with suspicion. Eliza’s heart gave an extra thump. “Thank you, Helen,” she said firmly.
Helen flinched, then quickly curtsied. “You’re welcome, miss.” Then she was gone.
“You don’t think she’ll tell Miss Almay we were dressed this way at this hour, do you?” Catherine asked.
“Your friend Theresa seems to trust her,” Eliza said as she sat on her bed. “Isn’t that enough?”
“You don’t like Theresa much, do you?” Catherine asked. There was no trace of an accusation in her tone. She simply sounded curious. “Not that I’m surprised, considering.”
“Considering what?” Eliza asked, tearing the brown paper from the book.
Catherine hesitated. “Nothing. Just . . . nothing.”
“Oh my goodness!” Eliza exclaimed. All thoughts of Theresa Billings vanished from her mind the second her eyes landed on the book’s title. “
A Tale of Two Cities
! I took this book out of the library last year, but my mother found it and made me return it. She said the contents were far too scandalous for a young girl.”
“Oh, it’s an incredible story,” Catherine said, “I like your father already.”
Then Eliza noticed something odd. The book, it appeared, was used. The corners were frayed, and one of the pages near the front had been bent down. It looked as if it had been read several times over. But it was not at all like her father to buy her a used book. She opened the cover to see if he had enclosed a note, and her heart stopped, for the bookplate secured inside the cover read
PROPERTY OF HARRISON B. KNOX.
Instantly, Eliza tilted the book so that Catherine would be able to see only the cover. She turned the page and once again, her heart caught. Harrison had written her a message near the top left corner of the cover page.
For my favorite tragedy lover. There will be something to interest you on every page. Enjoy it. Harrison Knox.
My favorite tragedy lover,
thought Eliza.
He used the word
my.
He implied that I am his! Harrison touched this book. He read these very pages.
Eliza was nearly breathless with bliss. She could think of no gesture more romantic. Then, suddenly, she felt foolish. Harrison was in love with Theresa; they were engaged to be married. He couldn’t have realized what this book would mean to Eliza. He was probably just passing along a favorite story to another book lover.
“What is it, Eliza? You look positively feverish,” Catherine said, rushing to her friend’s side.
“It’s nothing,” Eliza said, slamming the book closed. “Just a note inside from my father.”
Catherine nibbled on her pinky finger for a moment, looking as if she was on the verge of saying something. Then she turned away and grabbed her black felt hat.
“Shall we be off, then? You can only imagine what a bear Theresa can be when people are late,” she said.
“But she was late to the welcome,” Eliza said, placing the book on the top shelf of her bookcase as she stood.
“Yes. It’s perfectly fine for her to keep others waiting, but heaven forbid the rest of us should attempt it,” Catherine said with a fond smile.
“Are you sure about this, Catherine?” Eliza asked, reaching for her new friend’s hand. “You were the first to protest the plan this morning. I didn’t intend to force you into it.”
Catherine shifted her feet nervously. “It’s all right. No one forced me. I’m going of my own accord.” She looked Eliza in the eye steadily.
“All right, then,” Eliza said with a resolute nod. “How are we to get out of here without being noticed?”
“We must take the servants’ stairs at the back,” Catherine replied as she reached for the door. “They go right by the kitchen, where Mrs. Hodge and Helen spend most of their time, but it’s the only way. If we walk out the front, Miss Almay will surely spot us. She spends most of her time at the window.”
“But won’t the maids hear us?” Eliza asked.
“We’ll just have to hope they’re washing dishes or scrubbing the floor,” Catherine said. “Theresa does this all the time.”
That was all the motivation Eliza needed. If Theresa could do it, so could she. “Then we’ll just be as quiet as mice.”
Eliza took the door handle and slowly opened it. The hallway was empty. She slipped out of the room, gesturing for Catherine to follow. Catherine closed the door with the faintest of clicks, but still winced at the sound.
“Which way?” Eliza whispered.
Catherine gave a nod to the right, and Eliza tiptoed down the hallway, past the closed doors of her slumbering classmates. Around the corner at the end of the hall was a slim door. It let out a loud creak as Eliza opened it.
“Shhh!” Catherine said automatically.
Eliza slipped inside and found herself on the wooden landing of a rickety set of stairs. Catherine tumbled in behind her and closed the door.
Catherine, to Eliza’s surprise, was giggling. “I can’t believe I just shushed a door.”
Suddenly Eliza’s nerves took over and she couldn’t help laughing as well. She covered her mouth to stifle the noise, but then a sudden creak down below stopped her cold. She grabbed Catherine’s arm.
“What was that?” she whispered.
Catherine shook her head mutely, her eyes wide.
Then came a whisper. “Eliza? Is that you?”
Eliza breathed a sigh of relief. It was just Alice. Eliza looked over
the railing and saw the younger girl staring up at her, holding a candle in her tremulous hand.
“We’re coming!” Eliza whispered. Catherine grabbed Eliza’s hand as they started down the stairs.
“I nearly died of fright when I heard someone on the stairs,” Alice said when they reached her. She clutched Eliza’s other hand.
“It’s all right. We’re together now,” Eliza assured them, feeling a rush of pride over their confidence in her. “Let’s just get out of here as quickly as we can.”
Catherine and Alice nodded. Hand in hand, the three girls tiptoed to the foot of the stairs, where there were two doors. One undoubtedly led to the kitchen, the other outside. But Eliza was so nervous and turned around, she couldn’t tell which was which. If she chose wrong, they were as good as expelled. She looked up at Catherine, but before she could pose the question, there was a huge clatter from behind the door to her right.
Eliza’s heart hit her throat.
“Mary and Joseph!” Mrs. Hodge shouted from behind the door. “These hooks are about as useful as two left shoes!”
She began to bang pots and pans around, making enough racket to wake the dead. Eliza grabbed the doorknob on the opposite door and shoved it open.
“Go! Go now!” she whispered to her friends.
The two girls raced past her, now holding each other’s hands. Eliza stepped out after them, closing the door as quietly as she could before running blindly into the night. Alice extinguished her candle, but the
moon was bright and Eliza was able to see her friends’ shadows as they made for the elm tree. She ran after them, ducking under the lowest branches just in their wake.
“Oh my goodness!” Eliza exclaimed, hand to her heart. “I was sure she was going to catch us.”
“I think I’m going to faint,” Alice said, clinging to a branch.
“We made it,” Catherine said, breathless. “That’s all that matters. But where’s Theresa?”
“Right here.” Theresa stepped out from behind the thick trunk of the tree, dressed head to toe in black, holding a candle in front of her face. Alice screamed, and Eliza slapped her hand over the girl’s mouth.
“Theresa!” Catherine scolded, hand to her forehead. “Are you trying to scare us to death?”
Theresa narrowed her eyes. “You’re late.” Then she blew out her candle, plunging the girls into darkness.
“I don’t like this. I don’t like this,” Alice repeated, holding on to Eliza’s arm.
Cicadas hummed in the grass. A cloud passed over the moon, casting jagged shadows over the Billings campus. And as the four girls approached McKinley Hall—Theresa leading the way, of course—a stiff wind whipped through the building’s eaves, creating an unsettling howl.
Eliza gripped Alice right back and could only hope the girl thought she was trying to be comforting. “It’s all right, Alice. Look how well we’re doing,” she said. “We’ve already solved two clues. There are only two more to go.”
“But are you sure that last rhyme was intended to lead us here?” Alice whispered. “It could have meant Prescott.”
“No,” Catherine replied from behind them. “It said ‘due west.’ McKinley is directly west of the old oak.”
Up ahead, Theresa pressed her back against the side of the steep stairway leading up to the front door to McKinley. She motioned for the other girls to follow her. Catherine glanced over her shoulder as if she’d heard something, and for a moment Eliza stopped breathing, but Catherine said nothing and they all ducked down together.
“Eliza. The map,” Theresa whispered.
Eliza bit her tongue as she unfolded the map and held it in front of them. Theresa’s bossy manner was beginning to grate on her very last nerve. She ran her finger over the page until she found the McKinley building.
“‘At my base a malignant weed keeps away the flowering seed,’” Eliza read. “‘Find the stone marked by decay, its etching sends you on your way.’”
“Malignant weed?” Alice said, shivering. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“It probably just means poison ivy,” Catherine said. “Theresa, remember last year when Glenda Pearson fell off her bicycle at the back of McKinley and ended up with that awful case of poison ivy?”
“That’s right! Ugh. That awful sycophant deserved it,” Theresa said, rolling her eyes.
“Who’s Glenda Pearson?” Eliza asked.
“She’s in my year,” Alice replied, scrunching her nose. “I try to find something to like in everyone, but even I can’t find anything to like in her. She’s already tattled on me three times in class for doodling in my notebook.”
“Well, at least she’s good for something. Thank you, Glenda, for
falling in the poison ivy!” Catherine said with a laugh. “Come. Let’s go around back.”
The girls pushed themselves to their feet and crept around the base of the building. Theresa held the lamp low at the back of the structure, but the ground around it was bare. There wasn’t a weed to be found.
“They must have torn it all out,” Catherine whispered.
“All the better for us,” Theresa said. “I was going to make one of you girls walk through it to find this decaying stone.”
“Why not you?” Eliza demanded.
“I’m highly allergic,” Theresa snapped in reply, as if Eliza shouldn’t have even asked. “If I get poison ivy, I could die. Do you want me to die, Eliza?”
Maybe,
Eliza thought, then immediately admonished herself. She didn’t want anyone to die. Not really. But she wouldn’t have minded seeing Theresa covered in poison ivy welts, scratching her skin like mad.
“There!” Catherine gasped. “That stone near the drain. It’s far more decayed than the others.”
Eliza dropped to her knees to get a better look, swiping away some of the grime from the rotted brick. Her fingertips grazed several indentations. They felt like numbers or letters, but she couldn’t quite make them out. Overhead, the wind whistled again, and for a moment all four girls froze. When the noise finally died down, Eliza spoke again. “Theresa! The candle!”
“Well, look who’s suddenly issuing demands,” Theresa said, pulling a matchbook from her pocket and lighting the candle.
Eliza rolled her eyes, then held the candle right up against the brick wall of the building. Squinting, she could just make out an uppercase
E
. She used her fingernail to scratch the dirt out of the next few numbers and letters, then leaned back to read what she’d found.
“E 150 p. N 100 p.,” Eliza read. “What could that possibly mean?”
Catherine swung around and looked back in the direction from which they had come. “East and north! The
E
and the
N
probably mean
east
and
north
.”
“You’re right! And the numbers must be paces. That’s what the
p
stands for,” Eliza said, feeling an exhilarating tingle as the answer dawned on her. “It means we are to walk one hundred fifty paces to the east, then one hundred paces to the north.”
“It can’t be,” Theresa said. “Everyone’s paces are different. What kind of direction is that?”
Clenching her jaw in frustration, Eliza was about to protest. But then, suddenly, she heard a window slamming, and the sound obliterated every thought in her mind. Someone had seen them. Someone was coming. She looked up into the terrified eyes of her friends and could think of only one word.
“Run!”