chapter 2
Two weeks and five days later, we were indeed on our way to Ashbourne. John had booked us passage to Penzance on the "Over-Night Special" - a train that departs from London at 1:45 A.M. Because of the ungodly hour of departure, the rates were supposedly half price. Being the zealous spendthrift that he is, this thrilled John to no end.

From Penzance, we took a cab to Ashbourne. The clean sea breeze almost made me giddy. John slept peacefully for the duration of the hour-long drive. I could not sleep. My imagination ran rampant with fanciful visions of the coming week's events. Dozens of questions lacking answers lingered in the early morning air. If it really was Lucy, where would I begin? Should I tell her the truth? If I tell her the truth, will she despise me?

"We're here," the driver called back to us. The cab suddenly came to a halt. I looked out of the window anxiously. A square sign carved out of wood bearing the words "Locksheed Inn" hung conspicuously over the entrance of a three-story building.

"Henry?" John whispered drowsily.

"We're in Ashbourne, John," I replied.

"What time is it, Henry?" he asked.

I pulled my watch out of my front jacket pocket. It was 5:33 A.M. "A little after half past five," I said.

"A trifle early to pay a visit to Lucinda's Garden, then." John smiled. "Sorry, Henry."

I grinned back as I opened the door of the carriage and stepped outside. "In the meantime, I'm going to attempt to sleep." I knew I wouldn't, but the sentiment silenced John anyhow.