Read Online Ghost Messages by Jacqueline Guest - Free Book Online

wastebasket filled with balls of discarded paper.
    An idea hit her. She couldn’t hide, but she could create one devil of a distraction.
    Ailish moved to the desk and picked up the pouch. Inside, she found what she was looking for – the wooden matches that went along with the pipe and tobacco.
    Perfect! She struck one and it flared to life. Holding it to a corner of one of the balls of paper, she was rewarded with a puff of smoke, and then a brilliant orange flame as the edge caught. She dropped the burning paper into the basket.
    A second match soon had another piece aflame. The smoke was rolling out of the wastebasket now. Ailish left the crackling fire and fled to the stairs.
    Through the billows of smoke boiling out of the alcove, Ailish saw Dalton clamber up from the lower deck. Everyone knew the worst thing a seaman could imagine was a fire aboard ship and even though he was a ruffian and a bully, Rufus Dalton was also a serious sailor and he would stop to put out the small blaze before coming after her.
    The last thing Ailish saw as she pulled the stairway door closed behind her was Dalton kicking over the basket and stomping on the flames with his big dirty boots.
    The small fire wouldn’t stop him for long and when she stepped into the bright sunlight topside, she immediately looked around for someplace to blend in.
    It was then Ailish looked down and saw she was covered with coal dust. If Dalton saw that, it wouldn’t matter that he hadn’t caught her, he’d know it had been her following him. The sound of plaintive bleating made her turn her head toward the far end of the deck. There she saw her salvation.
    Running, she grabbed a shovel and bucket and climbed into the large pen that held the herd of sheep. She hesitated a moment, not believing what she was about to do, then threw herself down into the smelly straw and rolled around. Jumping up, Ailish began calmly shovelling the animal dung into the bucket.
    At that moment, Dalton charged onto the deck and his gaze swept the scene. He stalked toward the sheep pen and Ailish felt her breath stop in her chest.
    Had he recognized her as the phantom from below?
    Head down, she continued shovelling as he scrutinized her. She could feel his eyes burning into her and tried to look as innocent as if she’d been at church all this time and not fleeing for her life belowdecks.
    “You been here all shift, boy?” he asked suspiciously.
    “As you can see, I’m cleaning up after the sheep, sir.” She scooped up a steaming shovel full of dung and tossed it toward the bucket. Her aim wasn’t the best and some of the greasy muck splashed onto Dalton’s shoes, landing with a stinking plop.
    “You stupid boy! Look what you’ve done.” He shook off the pungent mess.
    Ailish smiled; then despite a valiant effort to stopper it, a giggle escaped, dragging a laugh with it. She couldn’t help it. Yes, she was quite the young lady standing there up to her knees in sheep dung and covered in smelly straw. Her da would be so proud!
    Dalton didn’t see the humour and his face went beet red with rage. “You think that’s funny, boy…” He grabbed for her.
    Hastily backing away, Ailish skidded in something slimy and fell into the muck. The laughter was now past her control and she hoped nothing would accidentally fly into her open mouth as she thrashed around trying to stand again.
    “The sights you don’t see, and smell, when out for a brisk walk on deck!” Paddy Whelan stood with an amused look on his face, watching the pantomime.
    “This bilge rat is going to wish he’d never been born!” Dalton pushed his sleeves up as he prepared to beat Ailish.
    “Relax, Dalton, the lad’s the one needing to walk the plank to wash away all that mess. I’d say you and your boot got off lightly.”
    A crewman called Dalton’s name and indicated he needed some help with a piece of machinery.
    The brutish crew chief glared at Ailish. “I’ll get you for this. You’ll be lucky