The Emerald Key - By Christopher Dinsdale Page 0,13

rewarded with a few coins and then sworn to secrecy. Wilkes immediately started to pack his gear and told the boy to meet him on the pier later that morning.

The lad met Wilkes near the shipping line ticket offices and Wilkes offered to double the reward if the boy could identify the young man who had attended the meeting in the catacombs of Cork Cathedral.

“I’m pretty sure I can,” the boy said, climbing up on a crate. “I got a good look at him as he left.”

Hours passed. The sun was lowering in the sky and Wilkes was starting to have his doubts that they would find their young priest. The crowds were still huge and the light was dimming. Would he have to attack the problem from a different angle if the priest somehow slipped through his fingers? He was pondering the possibilities when the boy’s hand started rapping him hard on the shoulder.

“There he is, sir!” he shouted, pointing. “That’s him, I’m sure of it!”

Wilkes followed the finger to a tall young man dressed in travelling attire, talking to a sailor at the bow of the nearest ship.

“He’s not dressed like a priest,” countered Wilkes.

The lad remained confident. “Then he must have changed. I’m sure that’s him.”

“Good lad,” he smiled. “You’ve earned this.”

He handed the boy more money than he could have made in a month.

“Thank you, sir!” He grinned as he climbed down off the crates.

“And don’t forget to keep listening. There may be more rewards for you yet.”

Lifting his expensive leather suitcase off the ground, Jonathon Wilkes kept an eye on the young man who was now boarding a Western Star clipper. Wilkes approached the Western Star Shipping Lines ticket office and purchased a ticket. Making his way through the crowd, Wilkes followed the young man up the gangplank and onto the deck of the Independence. The moustached officer asked for his ticket.

“First class, Mr. Wilkes. Welcome aboard the Independence. Please, follow me to your cabin.”

For the next week, Jamie left his berth only to obtain the occasional meal. He tried to ignore the increasingly violent ocean swells by concentrating on the books about Canada East and Canada West, the two halves of the United Province of Canada. He pored over Canadian historical records and maps lent to him by the church, and which were now scattered across his modest desk and over the floor. With study, he hoped to prepare himself for whatever might lie ahead in this foreign land.

Jamie had difficulty comprehending the numbers that lay in front of him. Canada was simply huge. Several Irelands could fit into just Canada East alone. And not everyone spoke the same languages. The French were the first settlers in the new land and had colonized an area along the banks of a great river named the St. Lawrence. This French-speaking land was now known as Canada East. The British were the second to settle. They built up ports along the Atlantic coast as well as further inland, on the shores of an impossibly large lake named Ontario. The land north of Lake Ontario became Canada West while the south shore marked the border of the United States of America. Jamie knew that both his ship and the Carpathia were destined for Quebec City. Quebec City was in Canada East and Jamie was thankful for the French lessons he’d received in France. With a little luck, he would quickly find his brother in this port town, and together they would return to Ireland.

Suddenly, a monstrous swell sent the nose of the ship heavenward. Before Jamie could react, his books slid off the table and crashed onto the floor. He held his balance until the ship veered sharply downwards. Losing his footing, he cartwheeled sideways and crashed hard into the wooden bulkhead. Dazed, Jamie could hear shouting from the deck above. He managed to open the door and stagger out of the cabin. The hallway resembled a river as water rippled around his ankles. Water this far in could only mean one thing — the ship was in trouble.

He made his way to the deck hatchway, holding on to the railing for balance. When he opened the hatch, rain lashed his body furiously. The officer with the thick moustache was leaning into the wind, trying to make his way towards the bow.

“Are we in trouble, sir?” yelled Jamie, over the howling wind.

The officer protected his eyes with his free hand. “Aye, that we are! We just took a