“May I look at the locket?” she asked Skenan.
“Of course,” he replied, handing it over to her.
“Perhaps,” she said, “there is a secret compartment in it. After all, this necklace seems to be rather too thick to contain one mere image. Perhaps ifI—“
Turning the portrait one way and then the other, she saw a clasp revealed underneath it, and pressed it. Abagail gasped as an entirely new compartment opened up within the locket.
“What is this?” She touched a tiny piece of paper with writing upon it. “Do you know how to read, Mr. Skenan?”
“I do not have the skill you suggest. Do you know how to read?”
“A little,” she said as she leaned down to look carefully at the writing.
We dfd in sh. Ct gt ts to yu. Ak On to hp.
“What does it say?” asked Skenan.
“I do not know. There are no words in this message. There are letters, but no words. Perhaps it is written in a code? Do you think it could be encoded? This land is, after all, engaged in war.”
“What means this word, ‘encode’?”
“It means to send a message that someone on the other end can understand, but no one else can. Oh my. I think I begin to understand, at last. Mr. Wilson put this locket into the pocket of my apron, and he sent you after me to ensure I arrived alive and well at Fort Stanwix. Mr. Skenan, this message might be important. And, if it be…”
“If Mr. Wilson thinks this is important, then… We must leave here at once.”
“But, you are not well yet. We cannot go anywhere until you are fully recovered,” she countered.
“I am well enough. Something has happened. I know not what this is, but if this message is important enough to cause Mr.Wilson, a Patriot, to put this locket into your apron, then… After all, a war is being fought near here. Mr. Wilson was obviously keeping this necklace out of the hands of Miss Stockenridge.” Skenan paused. “Who does Miss Stockenridge favor in this war?”
“I have not thought she was on either side,” answered Abagail.
“She is a spy. I am certain of it,” Skenan said. “And, this is why she was so cruel to you. Come, we must leave here at once and go to Fort Stanwix with all possible speed. Mr. Wilson told me to ensure you arrive there safely, and also he told me to take you to the commander once we arrive there.Nyoh,yes, it all makes sense now. Come, let us work fast to erase our stay here, and then we must go.”
“Erase our stay?”
“Indeed, we must do this so that even the enemy scouts will not know we were here. We must get to Fort Stanwix at once, and we must get there safely… We will do this by going over this country as scouts.” He jumped to his feet.
“But, I say this again, you are not well enough to leave here yet.”
He turned back toward her and grinned. Then he winked at her and asked, “Does it matter?”
“I say it does,” she answered.
“But, I disagree,” he said. “We are in a war for your people’s independence from a king who is oppressing them. This king is telling your people they must obey him and not God. What matters most is that we get this locket to the fort as quickly as possible. Do you agree?”
“No, not really,” she answered. “But, if you are determined to leave, despite your injuries, I will follow you.”
“Good,” he said, and he winked at her.
Abagail and Skenan traveled by night, avoiding the enemy’s scouts by using stealth and a constant awareness of the environment. Following along after Skenan, and, after many trials of running into him when he had stopped suddenly, Abagail had learned quickly how to read his movements, knowing by some sixth sense when he was about to abruptly stop. Abagail had also come to know when to remain silent and so to refrain from speaking to him, until at last, Skenan commanded her to speak...which was almost never. And so it was in this way they passed the evening hours by slinking across the forest—bent over at the waist—as though they were one of the forest’s shadows.
Nor were they traveling a mere few hours during the night hours only. Indeed, they were spendingallof the evening hours, the deeper gloom of night and the early hours of morning sneaking through the woods, slowly and carefully, steppinglightly so as to not tramp onastick or to cause any other noise. It was a slow and sluggish way to travel, but necessary.
They slept by day in some concealed place: a large hollowed-out log or a sunken spot in some large tree, or, when they could, they would make their beds within a strand of willow trees or bushes, one of the two of them sleeping while the other stood watch. Once, when it had rained, they had been forced to put together a crude, but satisfactory shelter, Skenan being careful to landscape around the tiny structure to make it appear as though it were a part of the environment. Again, they had traded the watch, one of them keeping awake and alert while the other slept.
Abagail was becoming accustomed to falling into an exhausted sleep. She was also growing more familiar with Skenan’s habits. For one, she had thought it odd to see how often Skenan thought it necessary to bathe, utilizing whatever stream was available to them.
Also, he demanded she do the same. Of course, they bathed separately and privately, one of them keeping watch so the other might wash in a secluded and secure place. And, this they did, both in the morning before they slept and in the evening in advance of them setting out upon the trail.
