"Relax, Dalton, the lad's the one needing to walk the plank to wash away all that mess. I'd say you and your boot got off lightly."

A crewman called Dalton's name and indicated he needed some help with a piece of machinery.

The brutish crew chief glared at Ailish. "I'll get you for this. You'll be lucky if you don't wake up in forty fathoms of seawater." He stomped away cursing with some colourful language Ailish had never heard before.

That had been too close. She clambered out of the byre, brushing as much of the stinky straw as possible off her clothes. A ewe eyed her dubiously, baa-ing her disapproval. Ailish reached back over the railing and patted the animal. "Thanks, old girl." The ewe must be ready for shearing as she was as round as a stuffed sausage.

"And thank you, Paddy. I owe you again." Ailish shook a green gooey mystery gob off her finger.

Paddy grimaced. "You'd best not let the captain find you like that, O'Connor. He'd have you in the brig for a.s.saulting an officer's nose!"

Ailish winced as she caught a whiff of herself. "Ach, you're right about that. Since the damage is done, I'll finish my shift cleaning the pens, and then I'll have a go at myself."

"You may want to do us all a favour and have your meals delivered out here!"

Ailish grinned as she climbed back into the pen.

Paddy must have thought her truly unfit for human company, because one of the galley crew did deliver her food at the end of the watch a" which by then she gratefully accepted, sitting with the fat ewe to eat.

When it came time to go below and wash, she had no idea how she would accomplish this task. She had a little water left in the jug in her room, but doubted it would be enough to remove the ground-in residue left over after she had sc.r.a.ped the worst off with the straw. And there would still remain the problem of her clothes. She had only what she was wearing and scrubbing them was going to be tough.

She made it to the safety of her cabin, still wondering what to do about her pungent problem. Once inside the sumptuous state room, she immediately saw a note stuck to the ornate settee. "OPEN ME!"

It must be from Davy, but what did it mean? She stripped off her soiled breeches and sat down on the couch to re-read the odd note again. "OPEN ME!" Who was me? She looked down at where she was sitting. It was a very beautiful coucha Springing to her feet, Ailish pulled up on the seat cushion. It gave on smooth hinges, revealing a large tub hidden beneath. The bath was filled with steaming water and fragrant bubbles. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she laughed. Bless Davy for giving her this fabulous surprise. His timing was perfect a" again.

As she pulled off the rest of her filthy clothes, she noticed a wooden washboard leaning against the end of the tub. Of course. She'd scrub herself first, then her clothes in the same water. They would dry by morning and when next she hunted Rufus Dalton, she'd be as fresh as a daisy.

She eased down into the bath, relishing the soothing effect of the hot water. Her head was tender where she'd hit it and her muscles ached from wrestling with the ma.s.sive door, not to mention the hours of mucking out the animal enclosures.

Grabbing a fistful of the abundant soap suds, she inhaled the lilac scent, leaving a unicorn horn of white froth on her nose. She clapped her hands, squirting bubbles through her fingers then piled more of the fragrant foam on top of her hair in spiralling devil's horns.

How had Davy done this magic? She paused. Davya Ailish dove beneath the water, and then peeked over the edge of the tub. "David Jones, you're not lurking around in here, are you?" she asked the empty room. Silence was her only reply.

Relieved she was truly alone, she relaxed and lay back in the deep tub thinking of how to find the wonderful horse. Today's efforts had almost turned into a disaster. She reminded herself to thank Davy for the help in the tunnel and for the much needed bath. As for her prize, she would have to switch tactics to find it.

8.

Discovered!

-. .- -- . - .-- --- .--. . --- .--. .-.. . .- .. .-.. a .-. ..- -. a .. -. - ---

When Ailish went below the next morning, she found Davy sitting on his favourite crate. "Ahoy!" she began in an effort to be more cabin-boyish. "Thank you for all the help yesterday. It was close. How did you get away from that goon, anyway? I didn't see any way out but up those stairs. Oh, and, thanks for the bath. It was perfect." She stopped, feeling embarra.s.sed at her non-stop palaver. The warm tingle she had felt before had returned.

His face broke into an amazing smile. "It was very entertaining."

Ailish had a moment of panic, thinking of her bubble escapades. "You mean the chase through the ship, right?"

"Of course, la.s.s. It's not often I can be part of a dash like that."

"Why didn't you find me after Dalton left?" she asked, remembering how he had disappeared.

"Oh, the lads above decks don't want to see the likes of me and Charlie. We're not their sort and we don't much like to fraternize with those riff-raff sailors either. Our place is below and we generally stay there. We like it in the belly of our ship." He winked at her. "Besides, someone had to arrange your much needed surprise."

"But after all that, I'm no closer to finding the golden statue. I'm sure Dalton brought it aboard and I think I know where he's hidden it. All I need is a genie from a lamp to tell me where his cabin is." She sighed in her most pitiful way and leaned against the crate next to Davy, trying to look demure. She needed to find that cabin and if anyone knew where it was, it would be David Jones, bash boy.

"I'm not a genie, exactly, but I know where Dalton's cabin is. Never been in it of course, that's against my principles to snoop in a man's home, but I can tell you where to find it."

Ailish brightened. This was exactly what she'd hoped he'd say. "Really? Well, I don't have any such scruples. The man's a thief and I intend to take my property back." She held out a pencil she'd found in her cabin and the piece of paper with OPEN ME! written on it. "You can draw the directions on the clean side of this. I sort of, well to tell the truth, I have a little trouble remembering all those turn-lefts-and go-rights you give me. It's so confusing belowdecks."

Davy shook his head as though she was the cla.s.s dunce and Ailish opened her mouth to protest when he pointed at a folded sheet of worn paper on the crate next to him. "I thought you might want to know where the scurvy dog holed up, so I already drew you a map."

She abandoned the old note and reached for the tattered paper. On it was a neat diagram showing the interior of the ship and a complicated path from Stateroom A to Dalton's cabin on one of the lower decks. She tucked the map into her pocket. "Perfect! Thanks for this and thank you again for the magic bath. I've never been pampered like that."

"I couldn't have you running around my ship smelling like a barnyard, now, could I?" He laughed then peered off into some dark recess. "I think I hear Charlie calling. The man's a slave driver. See ya." He ambled away whistling a sea shanty.

She watched him go and the warm feeling faded. Davy was a strange boy, but she liked him.

Rufus Dalton, however, was another matter. Yesterday had surely solidified his hatred of her and it might not be a bad thing to enlist some stronger help. Breakfast was a good place to do this.

As she jumped off the crate, Ailish picked up the OPEN ME note and glimpsed at it. She must have splashed water on it during her fabulous bath for the ink had blurred and washed away. Thinking of those iridescent bubbles made her smile all over again. She would enjoy reliving this luxury when she and her da were once again trundling all over Ireland in their caravan a" that is, if she didn't find her horse.

When Ailish entered the crew's mess, she spotted Paddy sitting at a table finishing his meal. He was in the middle of the room, and no way did she want to talk to him out there in the open in case the captain strolled in.

She waved from behind a wide support column, but he didn't notice her. With no other choice, she stealthily nabbed one of Henry's delicious buns off the plate of a pa.s.sing sailor, then took a quick bite before hurling it at Paddy. She hated to waste one of the delicacies, but it was for a good cause. He straightened.

"Come here!" She gestured frantically.

He looked confused, then got up and followed her behind the pillar.

"What on earth are you up to, boy?" He sniffed, then smiled. "You certainly look and smell better than the last time I laid eyes on ye."

Ailish made a face at him, then relented. "Thank you again for helping." Hesitantly, she cleared her throat. "Er, Paddya I wanted to warn you about Dalton. I think he's a dangerous man and you should be careful."

His face first showed surprise, then suspicion. "And why would you say that, lad?"

She took a deep breath and plunged on. "I was in the hold when Dalton threatened to expose you as a Fenian if you didn't give him your money and I heard two of his gang say they had his permission to throw the traitor overboard, after they broke his legs! I know he's out to get you."

Paddy's surprise turned to shock at her abundant knowledge and he seemed about to protest, then instead, slowly nodded his head. "You are a wonder, lad, and aye, Dalton's threat is real, but I can take care of myself. Besides, from what I've seen, I'd say he's out to get the both of us." He tousled her roughly cropped hair. "I'll tell you what. You watch my back and I'll watch yours, that way, the scoundrel can't sneak up on either of us."

Ailish liked this idea and knew the time was right to tell Paddy about the stolen horse. Perhaps with their new friendship, he could help her. "Agreed, but there's something else I have to tell you about Rufus Dalton and why I'm on this ship."

Before she could say another word, Captain Anderson entered the room.

Ailish's eyes widened. "Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I've got to go. I'll talk to you later." And with that, she disappeared out a rear door to the mess, leaving Paddy scratching his head at her odd behaviour.

Reading the map, Ailish followed the twists and turns marked on the paper as she made her way to Dalton's cabin. At last, she was only a couple of corridors away. Her golden treasure was practically in her hands. Holding the paper out in front of her, she checked she was heading in the right direction.

As she rounded the corner, she collided with Cyrus Field, his deerstalker cap and cape fluttering out behind him.

"Oh, beg pardon, sir!" Hastily, she folded the map so he wouldn't see the penciled-in trail that led to Dalton's cabin, which Davy had marked with a convenient X.

"Well, h.e.l.lo, my young friend. What are you up to this morning? Secret letters to be delivered?" He indicated the folded paper.

Ailish didn't know what to say. She remembered the last time she'd seen the grand gentleman. He'd rushed into the crowd with news that the cable was working and thus had foiled Dalton's plan to make Paddy give him his money. "Ah, no sir. I'm on my way to the, thea telegraph message cabin. Yes, I have a very important message for the message cabin. No time to chat, Mr. Field." She made to move past him.

"If you mean the telegraph testing caboose, then I can save you a lot of time. You're heading in the wrong direction to get topside. The stairs are that way." He pointed over her shoulder. "You know, O'Connor, I believe I'll go and check in on the communications with Ireland myself. Come along, boy, I'll show you a shortcut."

Ailish gave him a strained smile. She was cornered. Obediently, she joined the American as she tried to figure a way out of this predicament. Parading on the main deck with a notable like Cyrus Field could only lead to discovery and disaster.

"I hope you have that message memorized, O'Connor," Mr. Field said as they marched briskly on.

"Why, sir?"

"Because once inside the caboose you won't be able to read it," the learned gentleman explained. "The telegraph operators need total darkness to monitor the strength of the electric signal running through the cable. They measure a small pinpoint of light that is thrown onto a special gauge called a galvanometer. If the light jumps off that gauge, we have a fault and the signal stops. No telegraph messages can get through. It's then that one of the men springs outside the caboose and rings that blasted gong."

"My friend Davy calls them ghost messages, whispering across the ocean floor," said Ailish.

Mr. Field smiled down at her. "What a whimsical idea. Who is this Davy?"

"He's the boy in the hold, about my age and he knows ever so much about this ship."

Mr. Field opened the last hatchway. "I haven't met this Davy. He must be new, like you a" or perhaps it's the vast size of this ship and the huge crew we took on in England. Sometimes, I feel like I'll never have all the pa.s.sageways memorized."

Ailish laughed. "Davy is not a new crewman. From the way he talks, you'd think he built this old boat. He works a lot and says he likes it belowdecks better." They stepped into the bright sunshine on the busy deck and Ailish knew how Davy felt. She would rather have been safe below and not exposed up here where everyone could see her. Furtively, she glanced around, praying the captain was busy elsewhere. She didn't want to explain who she was or what she was doing on his ship. That would win her a one way ticket to the brig. She trailed behind Mr. Field and decided once they got to the testing caboose, she'd make up some excuse to leave, then go back to find Dalton's cabin. She'd been so close.

But when they arrived at the caboose, Mr. Field insisted she go through the curtained door first. Immediately, they were plunged into total darkness. Actually, she decided, inside a dark room was a good place to hide. She could sit quietly in a corner and no one would know she was there.

"O'Connor, where are you, boy? Give your message to the operators so they can send it." Cyrus Field's disembodied voice commanded from out of the darkness.

Oh, dear. She'd forgotten about that. She couldn't think of an excuse to exit gracefully and she certainly wasn't about to give over her map. She had to get out of there now!

Turning, she blundered blindly toward what she hoped was the door and slammed smack into a body just entering the darkened room. The force of her impact sent them both sprawling onto the deck.

"By thunder! Who are you and what are you doing on my ship?" an angry voice bellowed.

Ailish scrambled to her feet. In an undignified heap in front of her was a red-faced man in a fancy naval uniform with lots of gold b.u.t.tons.

She had bowled over Captain Anderson, master of the Great Eastern, and behind him stood Rufus Dalton!

9.

Trapped!

.-- a. . -. .-- .. .-.. .-.. .- .. .-.. a -- . . - .--. .- -.. -.. -.--

Ailish was now in a section of the ship she would rather have avoided a" the captain's office.

"Name?" Captain Anderson asked tersely. He held a black fountain pen poised over an official-looking form that was laid out on his desk.

"O'Connor, sir," Ailish replied timidly, visions of a damp and dingy cell filling her head.

The captain proceeded to write this down. "I shall require your first name as well and the port where you stowed away on my ship."

She was stumped now. Ailish was an Irish girl's name and it would be a dead giveaway to Rufus Dalton, who had accompanied them to the office and continued to stare at her through his hooded reptilian eyes, as though trying to place her.

"Ah, Liam, sir, Liam O'Connor. And I boarded your ship ina" She couldn't say Foilhummerum Bay in case it twigged Dalton's memory. She tried to think of the last stop the Great Eastern had made before setting off for Ireland. She'd heard scuttleb.u.t.t that the cable had been brought on board somewhere in England. Shropshire? Shornette? "Sheerness, Captain! Sheerness, back in England."

Both the captain and Dalton looked at her in surprise.

Dalton shook his head in disbelief. "But the brat's Irish, sir, don't seem right he'd be from England."

The captain's glare softened. "Since the Great Potato Famine, life has not been easy in Ireland, Mr. Dalton. Perhaps this boy's family emigrated to England." Then his tone became a fraction gentler. "And our young stowaway then decided he would rather be in Newfoundland."