exhausted themselves and were not permanently harmful in these doses."
"Poison? But who-" I stopped myself, knowing with sudden clarity the answer. The guards at the prison who, with great vigilance, constantly replaced the pitchers of water on my cell table. Officer White, frustrated with my continued denials in the interviews with him, had likely been the one to order it: to confuse my mind enough to extract some kind of statement of responsibility, to ensure a confession of my wrongs! Indeed, I now also possessed Neilson Poe's information about White's desire to suppress the inquiry I had demanded. He would have poisoned me until I confessed or died, or was driven to harm myself. My life had been saved through the means of my chance escape.
All the derangement of my mental state in the hours after leaving the prison became clear to me and stung my mind. Searching for Poe-digging his grave with the belief that he was alive-invading his former home from so many years earlier! That person had dropped from me and I stood taller now, seeing all that was happening with perfect vision.
Neilson seemed momentarily thoughtful and, perhaps, anxious. "Perhaps you do need more rest, Mr. Clark."
"The boy," I said suddenly. "The messenger boy of whom you spoke, the one who helped you carry me, and then who returned with the doctor. Where is he?" I had not seen anyone in the house other than the children.
Neilson hesitated. I could hear a new sound, unmistakable and increasing. Horses, high-stepping through the watery streets; a carriage's wheels splashing behind.
Neilson raised his head at the sound. "I am a member of the bar, Mr. Clark," he said. "You are a fugitive from justice, and I have done my duty by sending the police word of your presence. I have a responsibility. Yet, somehow, I cannot help but think that you, of all people, have the ability to vindicate the memory of my unhappy kinsman and my name. I would be pleased to serve as your defender in court, should you wish." I remained frozen in place. "Remember, Mr. Clark, you were an officer of the court, too. You have a duty to choose."
Neilson stepped slowly in front of the door, and in my weakened state he would have likely subdued me with ease until his messenger boy entered with the police.
"The children," Neilson said suddenly. "Do not think me too strict, Mr. Clark, but I must see to it that they are sleeping."
"I understand," I said, nodding with gratitude.
As he started into the hall toward the stairs, I dashed out of the room and did not look back.
"God watch over you!" Neilson called after me.
***
My mission was clear. I would find Auguste Duponte. He alone could provide the definitive proof of my innocence. Now that Bonjour had revealed to me that no harm had been done to him, even thinking of how close he might be lent me an air of invincibility that moved me rapidly through the drowned streets of Baltimore. Indeed, perhaps Duponte had already begun to investigate the shooting of the Baron. Perhaps he had even come to the lyceum that evening, before it occurred, had witnessed it and fled in preparation for the troubles he knew would come from it.
It seemed the most necessary objective in the world to prove my name to Hattie, for she had persisted in her friendship to me throughout my stay in prison when others had abandoned me. It might seem small compared to the fact that my life could end as a criminal, and she was marrying another man anyway, but my goal now was to prove myself to Hattie.
I would not dry thoroughly for days; my ears, lungs, and insides were swimming long after I'd waded and splashed through the treacherous streets of Baltimore. It felt as though the Atlantic had broken over the shores and was moving across to unite with the Pacific. I was able to locate Edwin, and he secured me changes of linen and modest suits of clothing. He wished to assist me in obtaining a place safer from the eyes of the police. He had brought clothing in bundles to an empty packinghouse, once belonging to my father's firm, where I took refuge by remembering a loose door hinge from years ago that had never been repaired.
"You have helped me enough, Edwin," I said, "and I should not wish to risk your safety any further. I have called down enough trouble on everyone's