Chapter 6 #2
‘I don’t know. A funny little door.’ She pulled it, but it seemed stuck. She pulled it again, and felt it give a little.
‘Let me try.’ Tam reached for it, his fingertips grazing hers as she pulled her hand away.
He pulled it, and the door creaked open.
‘What’s in it?’ Sorrel leaned forward, peering into the small space.
‘Dunno. Old stuff. Here—’ Tam handed her an old glass jar with a screw top. It was large, the span of both of her hands in height, with thick glass; it looked like an old preserving jar.
Inside, she could see a browned piece of paper and what looked like an old ribbon.
She twisted the screw top and it came free. Sorrel took out the first thing she touched: an old piece of newspaper.
It was so old that it felt as though it would crumble in her hands.
‘Wow. Look at this!’ she exclaimed, showing Tam.
‘Look at the date,’ he whistled. ‘That’s really old. It looks like that door’s not been opened in many a year. I wonder that your dad might not even have known that was there.’
‘It certainly doesn’t look like it,’ Sorrel said.
‘Read it aloud,’ Tam said. ‘I want to know what it says. Here, I’ll shine my torch on it for you.’
Sorrel held the piece of newspaper up to Tam’s torchlight and read aloud:
10 September 1883
LADY SWINDLER ARRESTED
Miss Emma Gordon, 38, of Peterham, Aberdeenshire, was arrested today near Carbost.
She had been wanted by the police for questioning in relation to inciting riots related to the recent Crofters’ War and was found in hiding at the ruins of Duntulm Castle early on Sunday morning.
Miss Gordon spent nine months in prison for fraud in 1872, charged with founding a fake charity to establish a Protestant school for girls in Rome. Donations poured in, but the school was never built.
Miss Gordon – who claimed to be a wealthy literary lady, writing a novel about the plight of the crofters of Skye – gained some local notoriety when she addressed a gathering of fifty islanders, supporting their cause and pledging to help them by fundraising on their behalf.
On further investigation, however, local police discovered that Miss Gordon had a criminal record and had been convicted of embezzlement.
Further information about her charity fundraising revealed that Miss Gordon had paid all of the money raised, supposedly for the crofters, into her own private bank account.
William Balhennie, the laird’s son, who has been attempting to reach a truce with the crofters over the issue of land rights and relocating families, vouched for Miss Gordon’s character, saying that she had been helpful in finding a solution to the issues at hand.
A warrant was also issued for Miss Gordon’s arrest in connection with the theft of a valuable jewelled dagger from Balhennie Castle.
William Balhennie, denies her involvement, citing her good character and charitable work.
However, the Laird, Dougal Balhennie, has reported that a trusted servant witnessed Miss Gordon steal the dagger and hide it in her skirts.
Miss Gordon denies stealing the dagger, which is still to be found.
Miss Gordon will face the magistrate in Portree on Monday.
‘That’s quite a story.’ Tam came to stand next to Sorrel as she read aloud from the ancient newspaper. ‘I’ve never heard of Emma Gordon. Have you?’
‘No. But I knew about the Crofters’ War.’ Sorrel scanned the article again. ‘We learned about it in school, remember? The tenant farmers and landowners fought over land rights. It’s amazing to find a piece of newspaper this old, quite honestly.’
‘Yeah. It’s just been perfectly preserved in that jar. Protected from the elements, I guess.’ Tam shrugged. ‘What else is in there?’
‘A ribbon. Look. It’s still quite pretty.’ Sorrel pulled out a long red-and-blue tartan ribbon, with six knots tied in it. ‘I guess it was for someone’s hair. Though that doesn’t explain the knots.’
‘My grandma used to say that witches tied knots in string to cast spells. Old folk magic. Maybe that was it.’
‘Intriguing. I wonder what happened to Emma Gordon?’ Sorrel placed the newspaper back in the jar carefully. ‘And why someone kept this.’
‘It’s a mystery. It must have been important to someone. To remember her. Maybe this Emma stole some money from whoever used to own the Inn. An ancestor of yours, I suppose?’ Tam examined the ribbon and then gave it back to her. ‘Maybe they were invested in the story.’
‘Maybe. I wonder if they ever found the dagger,’ Sorrel pondered aloud.
‘We can ask James if he owns something that fits the description. If not, then I guess it remains lost,’ Tam suggested. ‘You should show your parents the newspaper clipping anyway. It’s interesting.’
‘It is.’ Sorrel looked up at him, realising too late how close she was standing. They shared an intense look for a moment that Sorrel felt from the tips of her toes up to her heart. She swallowed hard.
‘Let’s go back outside, shall we? I need some fresh air,’ she said. ‘An unexpected arrival, and a mystery discovery. Quite the first day back, Sorrel Balhennie.’ Tam handed her the ribbon and the folded piece of paper.
He reached for her hand at the top of the steps.
For a moment, she held it. The sensation of his nearness was almost hallucinatory.
It was the same as when he’d hugged her so briefly earlier: the same sudden memory of the feel of his touch; the sense of the closeness of him.
Sorrel closed her eyes and bowed her head; she felt tears rush to her eyes.
It was too hard to think about what she’d lost.
Overwhelmed, she pulled her hand away.