Heart of the Ocean Read Online Free PDF Page A

nothing, and Eliza stood in front of the desk
for a moment, waiting until the man looked up. Finally, he noticed the visitors
and peered at her through his spectacles. “Thou must be the young lady who was
released.”
    “Yes, have they found my aunt’s murderer?” Eliza clenched
her hands in front of her.
    The man shook his head. “The constable is still
investigating.”
    Eliza blew out a breath, disappointment filling her.
    “After you sign this release, thou are free to go,” the man
said, pushing a piece of parchment toward her. “When Mr. Porter was released,
he petitioned for thy freedom as well.”
    “ He freed me? But how?”
    “Why, turns out he’s a lawyer.” The man grunted. “And he
told the constable, ‘You can’t keep that girl without evidence.’ Thou had best
be going, miss, before the constable finds another excuse to keep thee ’ere.
Mr. Porter left for the city and won’t be available to help again.”
    Relieved she was free, yet disappointed she couldn’t thank
Mr. Porter properly, Eliza bent and signed her name on the parchment. “Thank
you.”
    The old man nodded, then said in a gruff voice, “May God
keep thee.”
    The guard stepped aside as she passed through the doorway. The
last few hours seemed like a dream. Had she really spent the night in a prison
cell? She clasped the rough woolen cloak about her and started toward the road
that led to Maeve’s. She dreaded going back to the place where her aunt had
died.
    Yet she had no choice but to return. The main road passed
right through the commons, and as luck would have it, today was market day.
People stared at her as she hurried by. At least the adults averted their eyes,
but the children watched her with open, curiosity. Untidiness was a disgrace to
the Puritans, and she must be a sight to behold, in addition to the fact that
she’d exited the jail. She wished she could disappear inside her cloak.
    Skirting around the market stalls, Eliza thought she heard
someone call her name. But when she turned, no one was looking at her. At least
it wasn’t the voice of the woman from the cliff. That voice had been silent since
the night before.
    Eliza watched two plump boys battling with sticks next to
their father’s bread cart, making her realize how hungry she was. She wouldn’t
be able to eat for a while, since the walk back to her aunt’s was nearly an
hour. Wishing she had paid more attention to her aunt’s acquaintances, she
approached the cart. Perhaps the man would give her some food on credit.
    She dodged a rather large puddle to reach it. “Good day,
sir. I don’t have money today, but I’ll repay you tomorrow if you could be so kind
to give me a bit of bread.”
    The merchant’s eyes appraised what was sure to be a dirty
face and a stained nightdress beneath her borrowed cloak. Not to mention
uncovered hair. Finally he nodded. “I cannot turn away a beggar.”
    She wanted to tell him she wasn’t a beggar, but instead she
kept silent, deciding it was best not to argue with the man.
    Making grand gestures, he eyed his neatly arranged loaves
and scratched his head. Then he elaborately chose a loaf that looked a bit
over-baked and handed it to Eliza, wrapped in a cloth.
    She took the bread and thanked the merchant. This wasn’t a
time to be choosey.
    “Good morrow, Eliza,” a voice spoke behind her.
    She turned and saw Nathaniel Prann, a young, blond man whom
she’d met during Sabbath services on her first visit to the Meeting House.
    He looked her up and down, as if he couldn’t believe her
appearance. “Art thou well?”
    The merchant squinted at them with curiosity. “Thou knowest
this girl?”
    “Of course. She’s Maeve O’Brien’s niece.”
    “Ah. I didn’t recognize thee,” the merchant said. “I am
sorry to hear about thy aunt.”
    “Thank you,” Eliza said, feeling completely mortified that
Nathaniel was seeing her in this state.
    “What happened to thy aunt?” Nathaniel asked, his