The Emerald Key

CHAPTER 15





Jamie towelled off his hair and then threw on the brand new shirt he had purchased a day earlier from a St. Denis clothing store. The face in the mirror staring back at him looked completely different from the one that had been there only minutes earlier. Gone were the sweat-stained smears of soot and charcoal across his face. His hair, instead of smelling of smoke and sewer, glowed with a fresh, soapy scent that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. In a way, it felt as if he had almost washed away the memories of last night’s horrific fire and Beth’s near murder.

He left the bathroom, walked down the short hallway of the small but tidy apartment, and then opened the door that led into the back of the small bookstore. Mr. Kessler and Beth were poring over books on a table while Colin sat on the floor with a paper and pencil, having fun drawing pictures of the huge fire he had seen from the window of his sitter’s home in the early hours of the morning. Jamie pulled up a chair.

“I feel as if I’ve been reborn.”

“I hadn’t had a proper bath in so long,” agreed Beth, looking fresh and cheery with her strawberry hair neatly braided and a starched blue cotton dress setting off her clean freckled face.

“If I hadn’t offered you my tub,” chuckled Mr. Kessler, “that smell of fire and sewer on you two would have chased away all of my customers for at least a week.”

“Don’t worry,” added Jamie. “I’ve thrown all of our old clothes into the garbage bins outside. Your store should be back to smelling like its musty old self well before the noon meal.”

The three shared a laugh as Jamie bit into an apple Beth had purchased earlier in the morning. A hearty breakfast of fresh buns, cheese, nuts, and a jug of milk was laid out on a side table. While Jamie ate, Mr. Kessler shook his head in disbelief.

“Jamie, when I saw you standing outside my shop window with the ancient text in your hands, I almost fainted in disbelief. I thought everything had been lost in the awful fire. I’m still in shock that we have lost our parliament building. And all of those precious books … gone forever.”

“It makes me think back to the library at Alexandria,” said Jamie.

Mr. Kessler nodded. “Two thousand years later, I can see that we’re no better than the Romans. And to think that you both almost died in that inferno. Beth, well done to think of the sewer system! You are a brilliant young woman!”

She blushed. “I’ve been called lots of things, but never smart.”

“Well, you’ll be hearing a lot more of that in the future, I’m sure,” praised Mr. Kessler.

“She will indeed,” agreed Jamie. “We’ d both be dead if it wasn’t for her quick thinking.”

Jamie and Beth looked at each other knowingly. They had decided not to tell Mr. Kessler about the attempted murder.

“I think I’m getting closer to solving the mystery of your brother’s sketch,” added the bookkeeper.

Jamie and Beth leaned in to look at the open books on the table.

“These tiny measurements along the side of the staggered rectangles are measurements in feet, so the structure that Ryan sketched is, in fact, a huge project. And with the picture of a typical Great Lakes boat at the base of the sketch, I’ve come to the conclusion that it must be a diagram of a lock system.”

“A lock?” queried Beth. “Like the one you find on a door?”

“No, a different type of lock,” Mr. Kessler explained. “The word ‘lock’ is also used to describe a method of raising a boat to a higher elevation in a man-made canal so that it can avoid any rapids found in a natural waterway.”

“So why then does the title here say a mountain and not rapids?” asked Beth.

“A great question,” replied Mr. Kessler. “Why would anyone in their right mind want to lift a boat over a mountain? The logical starting point in searching for an answer would be to find all of the recent or proposed canal projects in this part of North America. Here, take a look at these books, Beth.”

He passed her several books with drawings of waterways and labelled canals. Jamie stretched over for a closer look. “This one here is the Rideau Canal. It connects Kingston to Bytown, and it opened only ten years ago. Although there is an impressive drop in the topography here at Jones Falls, I think it would be a stretch to call this particular landform a mountain.”

Mr. Kessler pointed to a second book. “This book shows a diagram of the Erie Canal in the United States, not too far from the border with Canada West. Again, it is a very impressive piece of engineering, joining the Great Lakes to the Hudson River, which flows south to New York City, but really, nothing in the canal’s vicinity even hints at a mountainous environment. Right here in Montreal, there are dreams of bypassing the Lachine rapids with a series of canals. Still, the land surrounding the southern shore of Montreal is as flat as can be.”

“Which brings us to this project,” said Jamie, tapping a third book.

“Right. This is a diagram of the Welland Canal. It is a vital water link between Lake Ontario and Lake Erie, and it allows sailors to avoid the dangerous waters that flow over Niagara Falls. The first attempt to build a canal around Niagara Falls began in 1825. It involved using a long series of wooden doors and beam boxes to raise a boat up and over the rising topography of the local area. Horses then pulled the ships along the length of the canal until the journey to Lake Erie was complete.”

“Wait!” said Beth. “I’ve heard of the Welland Canal! A few months ago, I was sent to search all of the orphanages in Montreal for older boys who were strong enough to work on its construction.”

Mr. Kessler nodded. “I remember the papers mentioning that there are a large number of Irish labourers working on that particular canal project.”

Jamie smiled. “And the interesting thing about the Welland Canal is that it does take a boat over a mountain.”

“What?” exclaimed Beth.

Jamie pointed to a map of Canada. “Between Lake Ontario and Lake Erie is the Niagara Escarpment. Looking up from Lake Ontario, I bet the escarpment would appear to be a mountain. A canal would have to go up and over it to reach the shores of Lake Erie.”

Mr. Kessler smiled. “My thoughts exactly.”

Beth eagerly leaned over the book. “A canal carrying a boat over a mountain! Fantastic! But why are they wanting to build another canal if one already exists?”

Mr. Kessler examined the book. “According to this recent publication, the original canal is in dire need of repair. The company that owns the Welland Canal wants to make the system more efficient so that larger ships can pass between the two lakes. They also want to increase their revenues by using the water in the canal to power local factories. To achieve their goals, they decided that they might as well start from scratch and build a brand new canal. It would take some brilliant engineering to pull it off, but if they could build it, the company would stand to make a great deal of money.”

“And that now explains my brother’s sketches. Ryan is an excellent engineer. He helped design a repair to an old aqueduct back in Ireland. I’m thinking that he was trying to help someone on board the Carpathia with a problem associated with the building of the new canal. See these lines coming out the bottom of each rectangle? I bet those are the pipes that will bleed water from the bottom of the highest locks in order to help power the factories at the bottom of the escarpment.”

“So Ryan drew a sketch of the Welland Canal just before he reached Montreal,” summarized Beth. “What do we do now, Jamie?”

“We follow the only lead we have. We go to St. Catharines, the town located at the bottom of the Welland Canal, and see if we can track him down.”

“And how do we get to St. Catharines?”

“Leave that to me,” said Mr. Kessler, smiling. “I have a friend who owes me a favour.”

They all stood up from the table. Beth leaned down and lifted Colin to his feet. Mr. Kessler extended his hand to each of them. “It’s been a pleasure to meet each and every one of you. Jamie, I wish you all the best in finding your brother Ryan.”

Jamie nodded. “And thank you for your help once again, Mr. Kessler. We would not be planning to go to St. Catharines if it wasn’t for your assistance. Before we go, could I ask for just one more small favour?”

“Certainly, Jamie. Name it.”

“Can I buy a copy of that newspaper you showed us yesterday, the one with the headline from Toronto?”

Mr. Kessler went behind the counter and retrieved the paper. “It’s a day-old paper, so please, keep it. No charge.”

Jamie tucked it under his arm. “Thank you so much.”

“Now could I ask for one more small favour from you?” asked the bookseller.

“Anything,” replied Jamie.

“Could I just look at your ancient text one last time?”

Jamie smiled, reached into his leather bag, removed the Book of Galway, and passed it to the old bookseller. Mr. Kessler sighed happily as he carefully turned each page of text and admired the glorious masterpiece. He carefully closed the book and passed it back to Jamie.

“Now I am a happy man,” he murmured.


After saying their good-byes, the young travellers stepped out into the blinding morning sunshine. The store owners were busy raising their awnings and preparing for the new business day. Pedestrians carefully worked their way along the rickety wooden sidewalks. Everyone was buzzing about the razed House of Parliament, still smouldering in the centre of the city. The smoke from the massive fire hung in the morning air like a fine fog. Jamie pulled Beth and Colin into a bakery doorway.

“Where are we going?” asked Beth.

“We go back to your hideout near the docks and sleep.”

“Sounds good to me,” agreed Beth, who yawned and looked ready for a nap after being up all night with Jamie. “Then what?”

“How quickly can you round up a dozen strong, smart orphans?”

She looked at him. “Do they have to be boys?”

“Not necessarily. They just have to be the best.”

She brightened. “Sneak them out of the orphanages without anyone knowing?”

“Yes.”

“It would be harder in the daytime than it would be at night.”

“Tonight is fine. How fast can you do it?”

“Before midnight,” she said, confidently.

“Good. After the sun sets this evening, go get me those orphans.”

She crossed her arms. “Are you going to tell me why you need a dozen more orphans? You can barely handle two.”

“Because,” he smiled, “it’s time to go borrow something else, and this time it’s going to be a lot bigger than a book.”