CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

JACK AND ANDREW ARRIVED in Huntsville close to noon. At the Liberty Hotel, a telegram was waiting for Andrew. He opened the envelope, read the message, and then leaned against the counter with a grimace.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

“My friend investigated Mr. Ramsay’s stock of slaves and learned through the overseer that Clarence, Eveline, and Matthew were taken to the slave market.” He folded the telegram and shoved it into his coat pocket. “That’s a setback. I wouldn’t have expected Ramsay to dispose of them so quickly.”

“What do we do? We have to find them!” Jack said, his worst fear becoming a reality.

Andrew nodded and turned to inquire casually if the clerk knew of any slave markets taking place that day.

“I’m not entirely certain,” the clerk replied. He then held up his hand and turned to a black porter nearby. “How about it, Sam? Do you know of any markets going on today?”

Sam took off his glove. “Well, sir, Monday is usually a good day for buying. But I heard of only one market and that was this morning.”

“Are you sure?” Andrew asked.

“Yes, sir,” Sam answered. “My cousin Ishom was to be sold there.”

“Take us,” Andrew said.

Sam looked to the clerk for permission. The clerk shrugged and said, “At the usual rate.”

On the street, Sam flagged them a carriage, climbing up next to the driver while Jack and Andrew got into the back. They made their way through the city streets at a speed that Jack thought might drive him crazy. He kept looking out the window just in case he could spot Matt in the business-day crowds. At one junction he did see something that caught his eye.

“Look!” he shouted to Andrew.

Andrew leaned over. “What?”

“That wagon. Aren’t those the slave hunters from Odyssey?”

As Andrew got into a better position to look, the wagon turned out of sight. “Missed it,” he said.

Jack wiped the sweat from his brow. “It was them. I swear it was.”

“Then perhaps we’re closer than we could’ve hoped.”

The carriage weaved through the traffic to a less-crowded area of town. The driver pulled up to a cluster of brown buildings that Jack would’ve called shacks.

“This is the place,” Sam said, leaning down from the driver’s seat. “That courtyard yonder.”

Jack and Andrew climbed down from the carriage. Jack nearly ran to the wide gate, but Andrew put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Not so fast. You can’t look too interested,” he whispered.

They walked to the gate, opened it on creaky hinges, and stepped into the empty yard. On the opposite end, a bearded man spied them and waved. “Hello!” he called and crossed over to them.

“Greetings,” Andrew said. “Is this the slave market?”

“One of them,” the man said. “The only one today.”

Andrew smiled. “I see. What time may we have the pleasure of seeing your…your slaves?”

“Nine o’clock this morning,” the man replied.

“We missed it?” Jack asked anxiously.

The man looked at Jack as if surprised that he would speak. “Yes, you did.”

“Did you have a man with a boy and girl about my age?” Jack asked quickly.

The question raised the man’s eyebrows. “We have a lot of men, boys, and girls. Women, too. What’s your interest?” The man’s tone was suspicious.

Andrew cleared his throat. “We had heard of three particularly valuable slaves from Mr. Ramsay’s plantation. We’re sorry we missed the opportunity to buy them, that’s all.”

The man eyed them carefully. “Well, they were here—and they’ve been sold.”

“Sold!” Jack shouted.

“Oh, dear. And we’ve come all this way,” Andrew said with mock unhappiness. “May we ask to whom they were sold?”

“I don’t remember,” the man said, but he gestured so subtly that Jack almost missed it. He rubbed his fingers together.

Andrew sniffed casually, reached into his waistcoat pocket, and retrieved a couple of coins. He handed them to the bearded man.

Back at the hotel, Jack and Andrew entered their room. No sooner was the door closed than Andrew grabbed Jack by the arm.

“Hey!” Jack reacted, alarmed.

“Listen to me, young man,” Andrew said sharply. “Our lives—and the lives of many others—are dependent on being as unassuming as possible. We cannot draw attention to ourselves. No one must ever suspect that we’re up to anything unusual or everything we hope to accomplish will be completely destroyed. For that reason, you must keep your mouth shut and do only what I tell you to do. Do you understand?”

Jack nodded his head. “Yes, Uncle Andrew.”

“Good,” Andrew said and let him go. “We’ll have to pray that the slave trader doesn’t run back to his customers and tell them about our questions.”

“But you paid him!”

Andrew unbuttoned his shirt and toyed with a necklace just beneath. “I paid him for some answers. I’m not so optimistic that it will also keep him from talking.”

Jack dropped himself into a particularly uncomfortable chair. “This is a disaster. They’ve been sold. And not just sold—they’ve been sold to two separate people! How are we supposed to rescue them now?”

Andrew tugged at the necklace, and Jack now saw that it held a small silver cross. “By faith, Jack. We’ll rescue them by faith.”

Andrew turned away from Jack and poured water from a pitcher into a bowl. He began to wash his face and neck. Jack dropped his chin onto his fist and, as he did, suddenly felt a strange tickling sensation go through his stomach. Butterflies, he thought. I’m feeling nervous about Matt.

But the butterflies flew on and Jack felt that weird surge through his body as if he were on a roller-coaster ride. He tried to stand up but couldn’t. Alarmed, he called out to Reverend Andrew, who suddenly spun away from him—along with the room and the light—into darkness.

“What’s going on here?” a deep, warm voice echoed in the darkness.

At that same moment, Matt was on the back of a wagon trying to comfort Eveline. She hadn’t stopped crying since they had left the slave auction and drove away toward the colonel’s plantation.

“They took my daddy, they took my daddy,” she wept again and again.

His sides still hurting, Matt winced as he leaned close to her. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

“How?” Eveline sniffed.

“I don’t know,” Matt said. “But we will. I promise.”

She put her head against his arm. “Promise?”

“Yeah,” Matt replied and leaned his head against the coarse siding on the wagon. He closed his eyes wearily. His stomach lurched as if the wagon had suddenly slipped into a dip in the road. And that’s when he heard the voice.

“What’s going on here?” it asked.

It was so present that Matt thought someone had whispered in his ear. He opened his eyes while his stomach continued to do flips. Of course, he expected to see Eveline and the back of the wagon they’d been riding on. Instead, he found himself looking at a flashing red light.