me—the police carried out a most extensive investigation and came up with nothing, apart from the chauffeur. So put it from your mind and don't think of it again—and that’s an order.”
“Yes, Daniel.” I lowered my eyes and attempted a good imitation of a simpering female.
The train rumbled over a bridge and we were off the island of Manhattan. On my left the riveropened up with tall brown cliffs along the far shore. The river presented such a lively scene full of craft of all sizes, ranging from humble rowboats to barges laden with timber and granite and bricks to bright-painted side-wheeler paddle steamers looking most jaunty withflagsflying.I had been given the choice between making the trip by steamer or train, but opted for the quicker journey. I didn't want too much time to sit and brood about what I had let myself in for and what might go wrong.
Not for the first time I wondered why I hadn't found respectable employment for myself instead of trying to establish myself in a man’s profession, and a dangerous one at that. At this very moment I could have been selling ladies' hats, or serving tea and cakes in a genteel coffeehouse, safe and secure instead of never knowing what might happen tomorrow. Letting my thoughts wander like this and swaying to the rhythmic motion of the train reminded me of the occasion, a little over a year ago, when I had been forced to flee by train from a life of boredom, drudgery and unchanging certainty in Ireland. I had killed a man by accident, in circumstances that I won't go into now, but suffice it to say that it was a case of flee or be hanged. I had chosen the former. I had lived with my heart in my mouth ever since, but at least I had never been bored. Thus satisfied, I looked out of the window and enjoyed the view.
We stopped at neat little pastel-painted towns along the way. People got into my compartment and disembarked again further up the line. The river had opened into a wide, tranquil lake bordered by green meadows and willow trees. I caught glimpses of fine houses set in parkland and wondered if Adare would be as grand. Then we pulled up beside a great granite building. The sign on the station said OSSINING. I looked out of the window with interest.
“What is that, an army post?” I asked the two women who now sat opposite me.
They shook their heads and made clucking noises. “Dear me no. That’s Sing Sing, the prison. They've got the most desperate criminals in the state locked up in there.”
“I've a sister who lives in this very town,” the other confided. “I tell her I don't know how she sleeps sound in her bed at night, knowing what depraved creatures are on her doorstep.”
More clucking noises and shaking of heads. I studied the prison with interest as the train pulled out of the station, but could see nothing beyond the high wall. It didn't seem likely that any of the depraved creatures would find a way to escape from that formidable institution.
Soon the river narrowed again. Tall mountains loomed on either side as the river raced through its granite padiway. It was a scene right out of an Italian Romantic painting, complete with cliffs, rapids and valiant boatmen. I was so intrigued at watching little craft attempting to navigate upstream that I almost missed my station.
I was still gazing out of the window as we came to a halt. I leaped up as I heard the station master yelling: “Peekskill. All aboard,” and had to make a great fuss to find a porter willing to lift down my valise. I suspect that I could have taken care of it myself, but was already into die part of helpless young girl newly arrived from Ireland.
“Where are you heading to then?” the man asked, depositing the case on the platform as the train steamed out. “Will you require the hack?”
I had no idea. I had written informing Senator Flynn the train I intended to take, but had received no reply. “I'm for Senator Flynn’s residence: Adare,” I said.
“Adare?
“Yes, Daniel.” I lowered my eyes and attempted a good imitation of a simpering female.
The train rumbled over a bridge and we were off the island of Manhattan. On my left the riveropened up with tall brown cliffs along the far shore. The river presented such a lively scene full of craft of all sizes, ranging from humble rowboats to barges laden with timber and granite and bricks to bright-painted side-wheeler paddle steamers looking most jaunty withflagsflying.I had been given the choice between making the trip by steamer or train, but opted for the quicker journey. I didn't want too much time to sit and brood about what I had let myself in for and what might go wrong.
Not for the first time I wondered why I hadn't found respectable employment for myself instead of trying to establish myself in a man’s profession, and a dangerous one at that. At this very moment I could have been selling ladies' hats, or serving tea and cakes in a genteel coffeehouse, safe and secure instead of never knowing what might happen tomorrow. Letting my thoughts wander like this and swaying to the rhythmic motion of the train reminded me of the occasion, a little over a year ago, when I had been forced to flee by train from a life of boredom, drudgery and unchanging certainty in Ireland. I had killed a man by accident, in circumstances that I won't go into now, but suffice it to say that it was a case of flee or be hanged. I had chosen the former. I had lived with my heart in my mouth ever since, but at least I had never been bored. Thus satisfied, I looked out of the window and enjoyed the view.
We stopped at neat little pastel-painted towns along the way. People got into my compartment and disembarked again further up the line. The river had opened into a wide, tranquil lake bordered by green meadows and willow trees. I caught glimpses of fine houses set in parkland and wondered if Adare would be as grand. Then we pulled up beside a great granite building. The sign on the station said OSSINING. I looked out of the window with interest.
“What is that, an army post?” I asked the two women who now sat opposite me.
They shook their heads and made clucking noises. “Dear me no. That’s Sing Sing, the prison. They've got the most desperate criminals in the state locked up in there.”
“I've a sister who lives in this very town,” the other confided. “I tell her I don't know how she sleeps sound in her bed at night, knowing what depraved creatures are on her doorstep.”
More clucking noises and shaking of heads. I studied the prison with interest as the train pulled out of the station, but could see nothing beyond the high wall. It didn't seem likely that any of the depraved creatures would find a way to escape from that formidable institution.
Soon the river narrowed again. Tall mountains loomed on either side as the river raced through its granite padiway. It was a scene right out of an Italian Romantic painting, complete with cliffs, rapids and valiant boatmen. I was so intrigued at watching little craft attempting to navigate upstream that I almost missed my station.
I was still gazing out of the window as we came to a halt. I leaped up as I heard the station master yelling: “Peekskill. All aboard,” and had to make a great fuss to find a porter willing to lift down my valise. I suspect that I could have taken care of it myself, but was already into die part of helpless young girl newly arrived from Ireland.
“Where are you heading to then?” the man asked, depositing the case on the platform as the train steamed out. “Will you require the hack?”
I had no idea. I had written informing Senator Flynn the train I intended to take, but had received no reply. “I'm for Senator Flynn’s residence: Adare,” I said.
“Adare?
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