Alexander C. Irvine by A Scattering of Jades Read Free Book Online Page A

mistaken had been a formality, nothing more. This man very rarely found himself mistaken, if that tone was any indication.
    Croghan found himself irritated, again for no good reason. What had the man done but offer him a greeting? He was not exactly anonymous in this part of the state.
    “I am,” he said, more brusquely than he’d intended.
    “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Steen said smoothly. Croghan never doubted that the man had noticed the shortness of his response and chosen to ignore it.
    “Likewise,” he replied, recovering his civility. “If you’ve come to see the cave, there’s certainly room at the hotel. Professor Tattersfield of Westfield College was through today, and I’m sure he would be happy to share some of his experiences with you if he hasn’t retired.”
    Croghan indicated the hotel’s front door with the stem of his pipe. “If you would like to go inside and register … ?”
    Steen cocked his head suddenly, as if he’d heard a voice he couldn’t quite place. He slid out of the wagon seat and bent over. When he stood again, Croghan saw that he had plucked a tuft of grass from the narrow lawn bordering the hotel. Covering one half of his face again, he studied the grass, murmuring under his breath, and Croghan looked up at the night sky. It was clear, but for a moment he could have sworn he’d smelled rain. And the damned lamps were flickering out; someone obviously hadn’t filled them properly.
    When he looked back to Steen, the salesman was brushing the grass off his hands. “Perhaps I will,” he said.
    “Pardon me?” Croghan was distracted again. Narrow lines of ants were working their way methodically up the railing. They crawled in sinuous curves around the support posts and onto the lamp fixtures, where they circled the glass rims. Those who fell into the floating wicks were immediately replaced by others from below.
    “Perhaps I will. Register.” Steen’s eyes narrowed as he took note of the ants. He looked again at the clear autumn sky. “Would itn be too late to first have a word with your man Stephen?”
    “Ah, so you’ve heard of Stephen,” Croghan said expansively. Hi stowed his pipe again. “No, I’m afraid Stephen has already retired for the evening,” he added, wondering if it was true. “He has a tour scheduled for early tomorrow morning, but when he returns I’ll certainly see that you get to speak to him. We offer quite a variety of tours—”
    “I suppose I will stay the night then,” Steen said. “Could someone see to my horses?”
    “Of course,” Croghan said, escaping with relief into the hotel to roust a stable hand. That man Steen certainly threw him off balance.

Tepeilhuitl, 4–Deer — September 9 , 1842
     
    Croghan rose promptly at six the next morning, as was his custom whether at his estate in Louisville or in the room kept for him at the hotel. He was dressing for breakfast when someone knocked on his door.
    “Who is it?”
    “It’s Mat, Dr. Croghan.” Even without seeing him, Croghan could tell that the boy was upset. “Come in,” he called.
    The door opened and the skinny slave rushed in, twisting his cap between long-fingered hands. Croghan saw the expression on Mat’s face and stopped fiddling with his cravat. “Well, boy? Out with it.”
    “It’s Stephen, sir,” Mat began, the words coming in a trembling rush, “he ain’t come out of the cave near as anyone can tell. We was wondering if he talked to you, since Charlotte ain’t seen him, nobody seen him, he musta had an accident in the cave since he didn’t say nothing about staying the night and he hates—”
    “Get Nick and Alfred!” Croghan snapped, flinging the cravat onto his bed. “Right now. He was supposed to be near Gorin’s Dome. Hurry!” Mat dashed off to the slaves’ quarters near the river.
    By the time he returned with Nick and Alfred, Croghan was fully dressed and waiting at the head of the trail that led to the cave mouth. He looked