Chapter 17
Narrative continued
I am writing in great haste, and not a little physical discomfort, as I have precipitously left Washington today. This evening, Stevenson came to tell me that I would be suspected in the disappearance of Lawrence Hanson and the important documents he was carrying. This is so distressing for a man in my position and at my time of life. I doubt I will be able to re-enter Washington society again. My butler helped me to pack a little but he is getting older and more easily flustered. It depressed me to have to leave him, and to see him in such a state. I imagine he couldn’t help overhearing some of our conversation. I gave him a small amount of money in the hopes that it would keep his mouth closed until we were well away.
Stevenson seemed most ready to go when he came to alert me. Taking only the barest essentials we left town after running an errand. I am not used to such hurried goings-on. I prefer an orderly routine, and now I find myself on horseback and perhaps bedding down for the night outdoors. Stevenson seems to think we have a decent head start on any possible pursuers. Oh well, I am returning to the land of my family, or near enough at any rate. I am certain my personal appearance shall suffer, but I will be able to buy new clothes if necessary soon enough.
Later
We are taking some rest for the horses and for ourselves right now. We have found a little path from the main road that is under some trees, perhaps leading to a farmer’s lane. The horses are chewing some fresh grass; we are resting against some rocks at the side of the path. I’m more used to traveling in comfort than in haste. But for all that, it is pleasant to see the countryside just now. A hint of spring has been in the air for a few weeks, but in the city all one can see are muddy ruts and wet leaves. Riding outside the city limits and into the countryside is something I have not enjoyed for a while. When I travel by train it is from one crowded station to another. Of course, traveling by horseback is slower, but a sense of geography and natural beauty comes stealing over you unawares. Washington has its attractions, it has been my home for some time, it has fashionable places to go, but the open feel of the countryside makes one more peaceful and expansive, even after the haste in which we left Washington.
Stevenson appears to know which route we should be taking. That Rebel spy Miss Edmonds will probably have a lot to tell the police once they get around to questioning her. I regret that the result of our planning for these war papers has turned out this way. I am certain Miss Hanson will feel I am responsible for her brother’s death, and hold it against me. I am not sure how fond she was of him in truth, although I dare say she’d make a good show of it for the detective. And perhaps she felt guilty for not feeling more for Lawrence than she did.
Again, this idea about selling war plans could have been profitable for everyone concerned, and I am not sure where it went wrong, but I do know that I am unhappy with the results. If I didn’t need Stevenson to help me find the Rebel agents, and be a bodyguard, I would sever all contact with him, as he must be to blame in some way. Perhaps Lewis Abbott is to blame as well, but I have known him so long that I find it hard to place blame there.
I wish we weren’t headed to Harper’s Ferry as the possibility of hostile action is higher there. But all the soldiers and such in the area might help obscure us better in case we are being pursued. For all that I downplayed Mister Blackwood’s ability, I imagine he can figure out where we are headed and that he has already left to follow us, ex-slave partner in tow.