Chapter 4

Rebecca Fogg had fallen asleep. It had been a hard-won fight, but she had forced her mind away from the apparition of Richard to find a dreamless repose after an hour of tossing.

"Rebecca… Rebecca?"

She heard her name and thought it was Phileas. Rebecca sat up in bed and opened her eyes. She looked toward the door expecting Phileas to call out again. Instead, Richard stood at the foot of her bed. He looked exactly like he always had, ruggedly handsome and relaxed. The man had always had an unruffled air as if the world never touched him. His curly brown hair was as unruly as ever. The cleft in his chin stood out against the strength of his square jaw. His coat was hanging open in a careless fashion that still managed to look polished. His eyes of pale blue gave her a steady gaze. The only problem with the sight was the way it gave off a slight glow and Rebecca could see the door through his form.

"Rebecca, the satchel… you must get it to Chatsworth. You are in danger," Richard warned. "They dogged me all the way to England. I was shot escaping and shot at a dozen times more from there to the coast. While the roads are clear and the storms are available to hide your passing, you must go on to London!"

"Richard, it is impossible to travel now," Rebecca insisted. "We, Phileas, and I understand its importance. You need not be concerned." Richard took a step forward and gripped the bedpost. His eyes burned into hers, pleading that she take him more seriously.

"Rebecca they are near! You must leave this place! You will not be safe until the satchel is in Chatsworth's hands. He's the only one I am sure of, he and you. Wake Phileas and get away from here! Get away!" As Richard made his last plea, he lost substance. A tired look came over him, as if communicating took a large toll. He leaned forward resting his head against the bedpost just before he disappeared completely. His last words were repeated in a weak nearly imperceptible voice in the now empty room.

"Get away."

Rebecca sat in bed only a moment more. The fact that she had been speaking to a ghost hit her full force as Richard's specter faded away. She came out of the bed on wings, running to the door, across the hall and into Phileas's room as if all the demons of hell were chasing her.