The Legend of the Irish Castle

  Jessie peered at the text. “That’s not a ghost dog,” she said. “It’s just a dog, a breed called an Irish wolfhound. See, right here it says they have gray fur and long legs.”

  Henry pointed to a paragraph farther down the page. “And this says the breed is known for its distinctive howl or wail.”

  Violet gave a sigh of relief and opened another book. “I like real dogs much better than ghost dogs,” she said. “And now that I know it was a real dog, I miss Watch!”

  Watch, the stray dog the Aldens had found when they were living in the boxcar, was back home in Massachusetts with Mrs. McGregor. They knew he missed them too, but he also liked having the house to himself, especially because Mrs. McGregor felt sorry for him and gave him extra treats when the children were away.

  “I miss Watch too,” said Benny. “He would loving running in these fields, and he would love rashers!”

  The children laughed as they continued browsing the shelves. Henry pulled another book down from a high shelf. “Here’s something interesting,” he said. “This one is about Irish superstitions.” He flipped to a chapter near the back of the book and read for a moment.

  “I think I know why Fergus got so upset at Benny the day we were unpacking,” Henry said.

  “He didn’t like that I put my shoes on the table,” Benny said. “He probably thought they were dirty.”

  “It wasn’t the dirt that upset him,” Henry said. “Putting shoes on a table top is considered bad luck in Ireland.” Henry skimmed the list on the page. “And look here—bringing lilacs inside can also bring bad luck!”

  “That explains why he didn’t want us to bring Erin the bouquet for the front desk,” Benny said. “I thought he was upset that we had picked the flowers.”

  “What if…” Violet said, thinking. “What if Fergus isn’t grouchy so much as nervous? If he is superstitious and worried about bad luck, and if he heard Erin talking about the banshee, maybe he is worried something bad is going to happen.”

  “Do you remember when I saw him slipping something in his pocket in the hallway?” Benny asked. “Maybe it was some kind of charm to ward off bad luck, and he didn’t want anyone to see him using it.”

  “There’s definitely more to the story with Fergus,” said Jessie. She traced her fingers over the spines of the books on the shelf and noticed a name she recognized. “McCarron!” she said, pulling out the book. “This is the same author as my fairy creatures book that went missing. In fact, it’s the same book.” She showed it to Violet. The title, Irish Fairy Creatures, was printed on the cloth cover in gold letters, but the book looked much older than Jessie’s copy, and it didn’t have a dust jacket.

  Violet opened to the title page. “There’s an inscription,” she said. “To my dear friend F., who always makes sure I get my writing done.”

  Violet handed the book to Henry, and he and Benny looked too.

  “I wonder who F is,” Benny asked. He handed the book back to Jessie, and she turned it over to look at the back, then inside the back cover.

  “Well,” Violet said, “if this castle has been in Erin’s family for a while, her father would own all these books. And remember—we saw his picture on the desk. Or at least we think that’s him in the picture. Maybe his name starts with an F.”

  “Frank? Or…Fred?” Jessie suggested.

  “Fergus starts with an F,” Benny said.

  “That’s true,” Henry said. “Do you think it could be Fergus? That would mean he knows this author.”

  Jessie was still looking inside the back of the book.

  “What are you looking for?” Henry asked her.

  “I have an idea,” Jessie said. “But I can’t be sure. First I need to find my own copy of this book!” And then she rushed out of the room.

  CHAPTER 8

  The Famous Face

  The other children followed Jessie out into the hallway. She came to the cupboard at the end of the hall, then turned back to Benny.

  “Is this the cupboard where you saw Fergus take something out?” she whispered. She wanted to be sure that no one would overhear them.

  Benny nodded, and Jessie opened the door. Inside was a box with a picture of a dog on it.

  “Treats!” Benny said. “These are the same kind we have at home for Watch. I never heard of anyone using treats as a good luck charm.”

  Jessie laughed, and put some of the treats in her pocket. “I think he was using the treats for something else,” she said. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  Jessie and the rest of the Aldens ran to the great hall where they had first entered the castle. Fresh candles were burning on the candlesticks, and there was a plate of warm cookies on the table.

  “Another sign that a new guest is coming,” Violet said, and the other children agreed.

  “Maybe Fergus will know where your book is, Jessie,” Henry suggested.

  Jessie nodded. “We just have to find him.”

  Just then, Erin entered the room from the other side, carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies. She looked excited, as if she were expecting to greet a new visitor. But when she saw that it was just the Aldens, her face fell. She set the cookies on the table by the door.

  The children looked at each other.

  “Hi, kids,” Erin said glumly. “Help yourself to some cookies. I don’t think anyone else will be here to eat them.”

  Jessie wanted to ask Erin again if she was expecting someone today, but something told her not to bring the question up again. Erin had acted so strangely when Grandfather had asked the last time. Instead, she said, “Erin, we’re looking for Fergus—have you seen him?”

  Erin nodded. “Yes, I just saw him outside. I think he found your book, Jessie. He was carrying it with him. Maybe he thought you kids were playing out in the woods and was coming to return it.”

  “Let’s go before we miss him!” Jessie said, and ran out the front door. The rest of the Aldens followed, though Benny stopped to grab a couple cookies.

  “You never know if we might need some extra energy,” Benny said with a smile.

  The Aldens raced across the meadow behind the castle, the drizzling rain making the grass slippery. Violet tripped and fell forward onto her knees.

  Henry stopped and touched her elbow. “Are you okay, Violet?”

  She nodded and stood up, brushing off her jeans. “Just a little muddy. Let’s keep going.”

  Just then they saw Fergus at the edge of the property where the woods began. He disappeared into the trees on the same path the children had taken on their walk that morning.

  Jessie tried calling to him, but Fergus was too far away to hear her. The children crossed the meadow and followed him into the woods.

  “Erin thought he was coming to return my book,” Jessie said, “but then why would he be taking it into the woods?”

  “And why does he have it in the first place?” Benny said. “You’ve been going crazy looking for it. Do you think he had it this whole time?”

  “I don’t know,” Jessie said, “but I need to find out!”

  The Aldens entered the woods just in time to see Fergus reach the fork in the path they had come to that morning. Earlier, they had chosen to take the wider path, and that was where they had seen the wolfhound. But Fergus walked off down the other path, and they followed him.

  Because the path was so narrow, the children had to walk single file, one behind the other. Jessie led the way. The path curved around some tall, old trees, and over a small bridge that crossed a brook. Beyond the next stand of trees, they came into a clearing. In the center was a small cottage with a thatched roof, and smoke coming out of the chimney. Fergus went inside and closed the door behind him.

  “Didn’t Erin tell us on our first day here that Fergus used to live in a cottage in the woods?” Henry asked.

  Jessie nodded. “But I think someone else is living here now.”

  Violet pulled out her camera and snapped a picture of the cottage.

  As
the children stood back away from the house, wondering what to do, the Irish wolfhound trotted up to greet them.

  Violet put out her hand for the dog to sniff it. He gave her fingers a lick and she giggled. “Look how gentle you are,” she said to the dog. “I can’t believe we were afraid of you!”

  Jessie handed some of the treats to Violet and Benny, then brushed her hands off on her pants. The kids fed the treats to the dog and he rolled onto his back so they could pet his belly.

  “Are you going to knock?” Henry said.

  Jessie nodded. “I think I know who Fergus is coming to see.” She walked up to the front door of the cottage and knocked softly.

  After a minute the door swung open and a silver-haired old woman looked out.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Hello, I’m Jessie. And you must be Maeve Rowe McCarron, the famous author!”

  The woman looked surprised. “Yes, I am. How did you know that?”

  Jessie smiled at her siblings, and the other Aldens understood what she had figured out. The night before, when they had been watching for the banshee through the binoculars, Jessie had said she thought the figure in the meadow looked familiar, but she couldn’t say why. Then today when they were looking at the books in the library, Jessie had remembered that her copy of the fairy book had a picture of the author on the dust jacket. And her face was the same as the one Jessie had seen through the binoculars. Maeve Rowe McCarron was the woman they had seen walking at night, and the wolfhound was the one making the wailing sound.

  “I knew there had to be another explanation,” Henry said. “Because banshees are only in stories—they aren’t real!”

  Benny nodded, looking relieved to finally have an answer. Of course, the Aldens still didn’t know why a famous author would be walking around in the woods.

  Mrs. McCarron smiled. “Jessie, my friend Fergus brought me your book so I could sign it for you. Won’t you please come inside and get warm by the fire?”

  CHAPTER 9

  The Man in the Picture

  The Aldens entered the small cottage and stood beside the stone fireplace as they waited for their eyes to adjust to the dim light. Mrs. McCarron invited them to sit in the chairs and on the sofa, and offered them tea from her flowered porcelain pot.

  Fergus sat on the far side of the sofa with his brown hat on his lap. His surprise at seeing the children turned to embarrassment when he saw Jessie looking at the book on the coffee table.

  “Welcome,” Fergus said, looking sheepish. “I know you probably won’t believe this, but I really am glad you are here.”

  “We weren’t trying to sneak up on you,” Henry said, “I promise.”

  Benny nodded. “We tried to call to let you know we were in the meadow, but you couldn’t hear us.”

  “That’s all right,” Fergus said. “We got off on the wrong foot. I have been keeping a secret all the time you’ve been staying at the castle, and I am afraid it has made me treat you rudely.”

  “This used to be your cottage?” Jessie asked. She glanced around. A few cardboard boxes sat in a line along the wall, and a stack of dishes sat next to the hutch. It looked like someone was still in the process of moving in. The walls held framed pictures of a family that included a man who looked like Fergus, but younger.

  Fergus nodded. “Yes, I lived here a long time. Raised my daughters here, and after my wife died, kept on living here by myself.”

  Benny noticed a photograph of an Irish wolfhound on one end table.

  “And is that the same dog we saw outside?” Benny asked. He pointed to the picture.

  Fergus smiled. “Yes, that’s Tully. She’s just like another member of the family to me.”

  “We have a dog like that too,” Violet said softly. “His name is Watch.” Violet had noticed that when Fergus talked about Tully, his face softened. She had always believed that caring about animals brought out the best in people.

  Fergus continued. “But a month ago I moved up to the castle so Mrs. McCarron could move in.”

  “Because you always help her make sure she gets her writing done,” Jessie said with a smile. “Isn’t that right?” She was remembering the inscription inside the book they had found in the library.

  “Yes, it is,” Fergus said, surprised. “Mrs. McCarron has always been a good friend to my family. I read her books to my daughters when they were small, and we all admire her very much. She has accomplished so much with her writing, but now she has become so famous that people in Dublin won’t leave her alone.”

  “It makes me so happy that readers have enjoyed my books,” Mrs. McCarron said as she poured more tea. “But I’ve had an awful time getting any more of them written. The newspaper printed the address of my flat, and people were coming over all the time ringing my doorbell, and calling me on the phone. Then I tried working in a coffee shop near where I live, and in the public library, but people interrupted me there too. I knew I had to find another place to work.”

  “And around the same time,” Fergus said, “Erin was needing more help at the castle. I knew I could move into a room there, and give Mrs. McCarron some much-needed peace and quiet to write.”

  “But you couldn’t tell Erin about that, could you?” Henry asked. “She wouldn’t tell anyone on purpose, of course, but if she let the information slip, her guests might be knocking on the cottage door too!”

  “Exactly,” Fergus said. “And I couldn’t let you stumble upon Mrs. McCarron either. Which is why I was so grouchy anytime you asked questions or talked about exploring the grounds. I apologize for that.”

  “That’s okay, Fergus,” Benny said. “And I apologize for putting my shoes on the table!”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I didn’t make things easy on poor Fergus,” Mrs. McCarron said, patting his knee. “A good guest would have stayed home and worked in the evening, but I am a night owl and like to get out for fresh air, even though I was risking being seen.”

  “You were seen—by us!” Jessie said. “Only… we thought you might be a banshee.”

  “A banshee!” Mrs. McCarron said. At first she laughed, but then she turned serious. As an author of a book on Irish fairy creatures, she knew more about banshees than anyone in the room. “Oh, my. I hope you haven’t been worrying your host at the castle with talk of a banshee.”

  “Because of the bad luck?” Benny asked, thinking again of his shoes.

  “Well, it’s more than just bad luck,” Mrs. McCarron said. “Banshees are just characters in myths that help tell the history of our country. But some people continue to believe in them. They say that banshees foretell a death in the family, particularly the death of someone far away. It can be very upsetting to think about.”

  Violet put her hand to her mouth. “I just thought of something. Poor Erin—I think she has been worrying about someone, and we’ve probably made it worse by telling her we thought we saw the banshee.”

  Henry looked at Violet. “You’re right. The man in the photograph in the library.”

  Fergus nodded. “Probably so. You asked whether that was Erin’s father, but he’s actually Erin’s older brother Declan. They haven’t spoken in five years, since a very bad argument they had over how to run the business. They inherited the hotel from their father, and he put Erin in charge because she had a degree in business, while Declan had not finished college. Declan thought that wasn’t fair because he was the older child. Anyway, they never could resolve their differences, and he went away angry and never came back.”

  “How sad,” Jessie said. “And Erin has been doing things that made us wonder whether she is expecting anyone. Is there any chance that Declan could be coming to the castle?”

  Fergus thought for a moment, then shook his head. “He has been gone for such a long time. I doubt that he would turn up now. But maybe Erin finally realizes how much she misses him.”

  “And maybe all this banshee talk has poor Erin worried,” Mrs. McCarron said. “We should go up to the
castle now and explain that the ‘banshee’ is just Fergus’s friend—an old woman who likes to take walks at night!”

  “I agree,” Fergus said, standing up. “Erin deserves to have the whole story.”

  So the Aldens, Fergus, and Mrs. McCarron set out back down the path to the castle. Tully trotted alongside them, occasionally darting off into the brush to chase a rabbit or chipmunk.

  “Tully knows it’s almost suppertime,” Fergus laughed. “If I don’t feed her some dog food soon, she might make a dinner out of a rabbit!”

  The group picked up its pace. As they approached the castle, they saw a car parked at the far end of the lane, near the road where the Aldens had picked the lilacs the day before. It wasn’t the Davisons’ yellow convertible, and it wasn’t Erin’s van either.

  “Well, now I have seen it all,” Fergus said under his breath. “I think that’s Declan’s car!”

  A man with red hair a few shades darker than Erin’s got out of the car and started walking up the lane.

  “That’s definitely him!” Fergus said.

  When Declan got closer to the castle, he stopped and put his hands in his pockets. He seemed to be considering something. Then he shook his head and abruptly turned around, stalking back to his car.

  “He’s not going inside!” Benny said. “He’s too scared that Erin won’t forgive him!”

  Fergus put his hands up to his mouth and shouted, “Declan!” But the wind was blowing in the wrong direction and Declan couldn’t hear him.

  Violet broke into a run. “Come on! We have to keep him from leaving!”

  CHAPTER 10

  Forgiveness

  The children ran toward Declan’s car just as he was opening the driver’s side door to get back inside. Tully ran with them, howling.

  “Declan!” Violet called. “Wait!”

  He paused and stood back up, closing the door. Tully approached Declan and nuzzled his hands with her nose. “Tully!” Declan said, rubbing her ears. “It has been a long time, girl.”

  “We’re the Aldens,” Benny said.