Oh, please don’t tell me I’ve lost him already. Oh, please, please.
We crossed the river, and the end of the bridge came into sight—but no black hackney. Daniel could go anywhere in the city now, and I wouldn’t be able to see. I puffed out a breath of frustration. I was so sure I’d almost uncovered something about the Spirit-Hunters. Something significant.
And then there it was, below the bridge! Daniel’s tanned face was focused straight ahead as his hackney trotted by—in the opposite direction. It traveled along a tree-lined leisure path parallel to Girard Avenue. How had it gotten there so fast?
“There!” I bolted up and pointed wildly below. “There—we must go there!”
“Then sit down. Now!”
We jerked left, and I fell sideways into the seat. As we catapulted through the oncoming traffic, drivers shouted their fury and horses whinnied. Then, in a bone-jarring bounce, we clattered off the bridge and onto the dirt path.
The reins pulled back and we slowed to a steady trot. I jumped up once more.
“This is too slow,” I declared. Bonnet ribbons slapped my face. “You must go faster.”
“I can’t, miss.” He wiped his brow and glared down at me. “This is for slow traffic only.”
“B-but...”
“But nothin’.” He scowled and stroked his beard. “You know, Miss, followin’ someone costs double fare.”
“Oh.” I gulped. Of course he was lying, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t pretend that I wasn’t pursuing the other hackney, and I couldn’t hope to find another driver this far into the chase. I just had to hope I had enough money. “All right then. Double fare.”
“In that case,” he said with a twist in his lips, “is that your hackney there?” He pointed, and I scanned ahead until I too saw the familiar gleam of black. It was disappearing around a bend ahead.
“Yes! That’s it!”
“Then I’ll keep my eyes on it,” he answered. “Now sit down.”
I tumbled back in my seat. My heart had begun to ache from overuse, and the morning heat was suffocating beneath my gown. Later—I could relax later.
The horse trotted my cab north with the river at our left and a forest at our right. The carriages, riders, and passers-by had thinned out, and now my cab and Daniel’s were the only two still on the dirt road. Fortunately, Daniel remained far ahead.
“We’ll have to be stoppin’ right soon,” the driver announced.
I leaned forward and tilted my head up to look at him. “What do you mean? Why?”
“Because,” he said with a meaningful jump of his eyebrows. “No one’s allowed past East Fairmount Park no more—that’s where Laurel Hill is.”
My eyes widened. Of course. Laurel Hill Cemetery. In the blur of the carriage chase, I’d paid no heed to what direction we traveled.
“S’past that landing there.” The driver gestured with his whip to a small dock to the left of the road that extended into the Schuylkill. Ferries carting cemetery and park visitors usually landed there, but today the dock was abandoned. Though the occasional vessel still moved up and down the river, now that I observed it closely, I could see that each one hugged the opposite bank. Clarence had said he could see the Dead from the river.
Daniel’s hackney slowed, and my driver tightened the reins on our horse.
“Here, Miss?” he asked.
“Y-yes, please.” My throat suddenly felt tight. You can do this, I told myself. Elijah would do no less for you.
I rose and offered the man my coins—seventy-five cents worth of change. I shoved it into his expectant hand. “Will this cover it?”
He smacked his lips. “Is that a dollar?”
I stepped unsteadily from the cab and then stared up at him, my jaw set. “No, it’s not a dollar, but it’s all I have, so take it.”
He protested, but I didn’t listen. He was cheating me, after all. Before he had time to stop me, I gathered my skirts in one hand and my parasol in the other and hustled after Daniel.
He was already plodding down the path toward Laurel Hill, and I picked up my pace to a brisk clip.
The dust of the path muffled my footsteps and rose up to cling at my petticoats. The woods at my right were part of East Fairmount Park, and though the road stayed flat, the ground on which the woods stood grew gradually steeper—so much so that in the distance, the road along the river was lined with rocky bluffs.
Daniel trekked before me on his long limbs, and my own short ones had trouble keeping up. Yet having him so far ahead meant he couldn’t see me stalking behind. Besides, the quick pace calmed my nerves.
As I passed the vacant dock, Daniel rounded a bend in the path, and the forests and hills blocked him from view. When I reached the trees, I slowed to a hesitant creep. I inched toward the road’s curve and peered around.
The iron bars of Laurel Hill and a gate, chained firmly shut, were directly before me. The fence took a sharp turn up, following the curve of the land.