Chapter 15

Verne was to send a message to the Foggs as soon as he knew of David's arrival. When they received it, they would head to Kingston's estate, sneak in, and free their cousin. They would all meet on the east coast at their starting point to meet the Aurora, which Passepartout had been keeping up in the clouds until the appointed times to check their rendezvous point.

For the rest of the day, Rebecca became a visitor of the city, wandering shops and listening for news.

Jules resumed his place at the Queen's Inn, lounging about doing the same. When he was not there, Verne haunted the tavern on Main Street. He had lunch with Mr. Harris and a colleague, Mr. John Marshall.

Word had quietly been given that Drummond had been caught and was on his way back to Ireland.

"When do I need to be at the courthouse?" Jules said, expecting Mr. Harris to plan it.

"It will not be at the courthouse," Mr. Marshall said. "There is too much chance of someone interfering. The trial will be held at the Kingston estate. I have been appointed as the defense. My good friend Phillip will prosecute, and Judge Brady will preside. Only a handful of others will attend. Mostly witnesses who can attest to the charge. David Drummond will be brought to the city after dark and escorted to the place of trial."

"What charges will be stated?" Verne asked.

"Highway robbery," Marshall announced. "There are other charges, but that crime was committed in this district. We have three witnesses to it. There will also be the official's secretary to whom the stolen documents were given to. He will testify that David Drummond gave them to the official. That will seal the facts about whether Drummond took the documents from our former magistrate."

"Now," Marshall stated to his friend the prosecuting attorney, "I officially protest the unusual venue. It is necessary, of course, but unfriendly to my client."

Mr. Harris smiled at his friend, the accused man's defender. "I can understand that, but the Kingston estate is the most secure place for the coming trial. Mr. Kingston has agreed to host the event with the understanding he will not take part as he has prejudicial attitudes toward the accused."

"In that case, I withdraw my objection," Mr. Marshall said, smiling. "There is one other thing. Are you sure beyond a doubt that you have the right man?" He said seriously. "Word came to me this morning that Drummond has been seen on the roads last night in several places between here and the coast. If he has returned of his own accord, then what will our fine officers of the court have dragged back from France?"

"That is an interesting question," Harris said. "We will have to see the prisoner as soon as he arrives to make certain of his identity. In the time being, we should investigate these rumors to see if they can be substantiated." Both men agreed to that and bid Jules goodbye so they could get on to their work. Mr. Harris promised to send a message once he knew when they needed to arrive at the Kingston estate.


Jules spent the next several minutes writing a message to Fogg in the guise of a letter to France. He passed Rebecca on the street coming out of a shop, bumping her by accident. Rebecca's shopping basket, borrowed from the inn, dropped out of her hand. The Frenchmen retrieved it for her gallantly, dropping his letter into it.

Rebecca had the letter up to Phileas within ten minutes. He had to stay in their rooms owing to his new look. "Well, our late evening ride did some good," he said.

"So, it would seem," Rebecca said. "Of course, that will be ruined when David arrives."

"Perhaps a closer, more visible visitation from Drummond before his arrival would help?" Phileas said.

"What, are you planning on walking through the streets?" Rebecca said nervously. "Try it and David will not be the only Fogg held prisoner."

"Nothing so direct," Phileas said. "But if Drummond presently held prisoner were to be rescued on the road before his trial, by a free Drummond look-a-like…"

Phileas took out the map the innkeeper had given him and looked over routes into town. "There is only one main road going into the Kingston estate," Phileas said. "The road going onto the property is private and winds through rolling hills as we saw the last night."

"A daring plan," Rebecca said. "But we will be two and they could be many. I do not mind playing the highwayman with you, but it will require another change of clothing and more luck than we have a right to expect. I was thinking of a rescue, too. But earlier in the journey, say here?" She pointed further away, north of the estate and the city.

"Here, David's conveyance could be met before extra guards from the city can be added. According to the coachman who witnessed David's capture, there were only two men involved. That would be one each, much better odds."

"That would assume there are no extra guards already assigned," Phileas cautiously pointed out.

"True," Rebecca said. "Considering their wish to keep his capture secret, they won't want to draw attention. A coach with outriders in this quiet countryside would do just that."

"I think we know too little for either idea to be workable," Phileas said, pulling away from the map, frowning. "We may be stuck with sneaking into the Kingston estate as originally planned."

"You are being too cautious," Rebecca accused. "The sooner this is done, the better our chances. Entering the estate will be the riskiest plan."

Phileas let out a long breath to dispel the sharp retort he wanted to say. He had heard this accusation before. Rebecca was technically the agent in charge. He had no right to supersede her; but he would be damned if her impulsive tendencies were given charge. David's work here had guaranteed a shooting match when the rescue happened. He wanted all Foggs and company removed with a minimum chance of anyone getting killed.

He turned on his cousin, stern faced, allowing no more debate. "Perhaps, but we will do this together and properly, with all deliberation and no unnecessary risk taking."

The rebuke and the words, which were so close to the same ones he had used on her in Canada, when she had taken off on her own down the falls in a barrel, hit Rebecca in the face like a slap.

He has no right. She went defensive, but history was on his side of the matter, and she had nothing to counter it with.

The cousins then spent the rest of the day silently sitting in their room, waiting for more information. He remained stone faced, and she remained mutinous.

When Jules's next message finally came, it was and was not very helpful. Verne had been told that David would not arrive until very early the next morning. He would be taken straight to the estate for a late celebratory dinner party.

The trial would be delayed because of the sightings of the night before. All parties wanted to make sure they had the right man. If there was a copycat Drummond on the roads, they needed to put an end to it. No one wanted to ruin the dampening effect of Drummond's death on his followers.

"Dare we wonder if the trial will be delayed indefinitely if I were to wander the roads tonight before witnesses?" Phileas asked aloud.

"It is a thought," Rebecca said. "It is also a thought that my earlier plan might work better now. We would have a better head start on pursuers as well."

"True," Phileas said reluctantly. "But we are still only two and the countryside in that area is all open country. There is not enough cover. Two riders leading a third horse down on them would be spotted easily. They would be put on guard before we could get within a hundred yards."

Rebecca looked as though she wanted to argue, but held her tongue. Getting into a shouting match with Phileas would not be constructive and cause notice. Going it alone this time would not be an option either.