Read Online The Unmapped Sea by Maryrose Wood - Free Book Online

the sea?”
    Three curious faces turned to her, like sunflowers to the sun. She sat up straight and smoothed her hair. “I do not know exactly, but the moon can do many things, after all. It grows and shrinks. It is a different shape every day.”
    The children considered this.
    â€œIt moves around the sky,” Alexander agreed after a moment.
    â€œIt rises and sets,” Beowulf conceded.
    â€œIt makes Lord Fredrick howl,” Cassiopeia offered.
    All conversation in the train car stopped. The steady chug of the train wheels was the only sound left; that, and a rhythmic snore that came from Mrs. Clarke, who was now napping in her seat at the far end of the compartment.
    Chug-chugga—snore!
    Chug-chugga—snore!
    â€œDid you hear what the child said about His Lordship?” one of the servants said at last. “The moon makes him howl! Did you ever?”
    â€œThe moon? Fancy that!”
    â€œI thought I heard an odd noise once, during a full moon. Very howling-like, if you ask me. It was coming from the attic. . . .”
    Penelope leaned close to her youngest pupil. “Cassiopeia, we do not discuss other people’s private business in a crowded train compartment.”
    The little girl looked confused. “But I thought we were talking about the moon?”
    All around them the gossip buzzed.
    â€œLord Fredrick—moon—howling— snore !”
    â€œAttic—wolves—His Lordship— snore !”
    Penelope stood and spoke at top volume, as if she could erase the whispers by shouting over them. “Yes, children, we were talking about the moon, and spoons, and macaroons! And next we shall talk of hermit crabs, for they are fascinating creatures! Did you know they change houses as they outgrow them?”
    But it was too late. The tide of rumor was rising, and there was as little chance of stopping it as therewas of stilling the sea. Oh, the perils of eavesdropping! Penelope felt woozy. She sank back into her seat and imagined herself being run through with a sword while hiding behind a curtain.
    The children looked concerned. “Do you have chicken pox, Lumawoo?” asked Alexander gently. “You are white as an egg.”
    She counted backward from twenty to calm herself, which was an antipanicking skill she had been taught at Swanburne. “This talk of tides is making me seasick,” she answered when she could speak. “Let us choose another activity.” She reached into her travel bag and removed a knotted mess of yellow wool. It was the skein of yarn that had served as her Lady Constance hair; she had brought it along as a simple project to while away the time while traveling. “I shall need your help to rewind this yarn into a neat, tidy ball. Put out your hands, please.”
    The children looked skeptical, for the idea of having their hands tied up with yarn felt rather like being put on a leash. Penelope urged, “I have no intention of wasting a perfectly good skein of wool. Pretend it is a sled-dog harness that lashes you all together as a team. A quiet sled-dog team,” she added.
    This idea pleased them much better. “Mush, mush!”they whispered to one another. But they could not race up and down the train aisles with yarn wrapped around their hands, and so the game had to be changed.
    â€œHelp!” moaned Beowulf, dramatically but at low volume. “We are caught in a butterfly net!”
    Cassiopeia grinned devilishly and whispered, “No, spiderweb!”
    â€œButterfly net!”
    â€œSpiderweb!”
    â€œButterfly net!”
    â€œSpiderweb!”
    Not to be outdone, Alexander began to thrash about and quietly call for help. “Ahoy, Captain! Drop anchor, I’m stuck in the rigging!” (As the sailors among you know, the rigging of a sailing ship is the complicated web of ropes and timber and sails that allows the ship to be propelled by the wind.)
    â€œThe yarn is getting even