Читать книгу The Stolen Sapphire - Sarah Masters Buckey - Страница 5

AS SNOWFLAKES WHIRLED through the air, Samantha Parkington wiggled her fingers inside her mittens and stomped her feet to keep warm. She looked out hopefully at the slushy New York City street. Shoppers were hurrying past Bertram’s Book Shop, their hats pulled low to keep out the snow. But Samantha didn’t see Nellie, her adopted sister and very best friend.

“Samantha, you’re still here!” exclaimed a familiar voice.

White-haired Mr. Bertram stepped out of the store with a package in his hand. “Your aunt requested these books, and they were just delivered. I think they may be for your trip.” Mr. Bertram’s eyes twinkled. “Would you like to take them home?”

“Oh, yes!” Samantha said. Mr. Bertram handed her a square package wrapped in brown paper. She ran her mittened hand along the outside and felt the outline of two books. One for me, one for Nellie? she guessed.

Mr. Bertram scanned the sky. “Would you like to wait inside for Nellie? It’s awfully cold out here.”

Samantha hesitated. She was getting cold. But she and Nellie met outside Bertram’s Book Shop every day after school, and Nellie was hardly ever late. “Thank you, but Nellie should be here any moment.”

Just then, Samantha saw Nellie’s blue coat hurrying toward her through the swirling snow. “There she is! Good-bye, Mr. Bertram!”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Nellie apologized as the two girls met. She held up the arithmetic book that she was carrying. “Miss Frantzen gave me problems to do while we’re away.” Nellie sighed. “I hope I don’t fall too far behind in school.”

Samantha nodded. She and Nellie were sailing the next day on a voyage to Europe with their grandparents, Grandmary and Admiral Beemis. Samantha could hardly wait for the trip, but she knew she would have a lot of schoolwork to do while they were away.

“We’ll both study on board the ship,” she assured Nellie. “Miss Grise says I have to write an essay in French describing our trip.” Samantha made a face. “I can hardly write a sentence in French—how can she expect me to do a whole essay?”

“What about the French tutor who’s coming with us?” Nellie reminded her. “Your grandmother said she’ll teach us French. Maybe she’ll help you with your essay, too.”

“Maybe,” Samantha agreed. “But I hope she’s not as strict as Miss Grise. Every time I make a mistake, Miss Grise sucks in her cheeks like she’s eaten a lemon and says ‘Tsk-tsk!’” Samantha shuddered at the memory. “If the French tutor is anything like Miss Grise, we’ll have to find ways to get away from her.”

“Tsk-tsk!” teased Nellie, puckering her face, and both girls giggled as they made their way down the snowy sidewalk.

“I’m glad we’re going to miss school for a few weeks,” admitted Samantha. “It’ll be so exciting to travel around England and France! The Admiral said we’ll dock overnight in Queenstown, too, so we’ll be able to see the coast of Ireland from the ship.”

“It’ll be wonderful,” agreed Nellie, hugging her book to her chest. “My mam used to say that she wished she could take me home to visit Ireland. She said it’s the most beautiful place in the whole world.” Nellie stopped, and Samantha knew she was remembering her mother, who had died of influenza.

For a few minutes the girls walked on together in silence. Then Nellie continued, “I’ve always hoped I’d see Ireland someday. And now I will—even if it’s only from the ship. And we’ll actually visit London and Paris.” Nellie sighed as they stopped at a corner. “It’s hard to believe.”

Samantha nodded. So much has changed for Nellie and me, she thought.

Samantha’s parents had died when she was little, and she’d lived most of her life with her grandmother in the small town of Mount Bedford, New York. Two years ago, while she was playing in the backyard of Grandmary’s fancy house, Samantha had met Nellie O’Malley, the daughter of poor Irish immigrants. Although Nellie had to work as a servant, the two nine-year-old girls had quickly become best friends.

Then Samantha’s Uncle Gard and Aunt Cornelia had gotten married, and they had invited Samantha to live with them in New York City. Samantha loved New York, but she had missed her friend. One day she’d learned that Nellie’s parents had died and that Nellie and her sisters, Bridget and Jenny, were living in a terrible orphanage. Aunt Cornelia and Uncle Gard had decided to adopt all three O’Malley girls. Now Samantha finally had the sisters she’d always wanted.

I’m so glad that we’re all a family, Samantha thought happily as she and Nellie waited for a horse-drawn carriage to pass. The tall carriage sped by, its wheels spraying icy slush. As Samantha jumped back to avoid being splattered, she bumped into someone standing behind her.

“Excuse me,” Samantha apologized. She glanced up and saw a tall, thin boy in a worn coat, an old tweed cap, and a knitted blue scarf that covered most of his face. The boy, who looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, didn’t reply. He just pulled his cap down and walked off in the opposite direction.

Samantha quickly caught up with Nellie, who had started across the street. As the girls hurried toward home through the falling snow, they talked excitedly of their upcoming trip.

“Maybe if it gets really cold, we can go ice-skating on the waves!” Samantha joked. She found an ice-slicked puddle and slid across it. “Like this!”

“Oohh!” said Nellie, sliding too. “I wonder if it snows in the middle of the ocean!”

The two girls turned into a quiet street where the fresh snow lay white and clean on the sidewalk. They were halfway down the block when a boy suddenly stepped out from between two houses. He stood in the center of the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of them. As Samantha glanced at him, she felt a shock of surprise. She was almost sure that she recognized his tweed cap and blue scarf. It was the same boy she’d run into a few blocks before.

How did he get here? she wondered. He was walking in the other direction. A sudden fear swept over her, chilling her even more than the wind-blown snow. Is he following us?

Samantha looked around for the policeman who patrolled this neighborhood. She didn’t see him anywhere, and the snow seemed to have driven everyone else inside. She and Nellie were alone with this strange boy. Samantha reached for Nellie’s arm, hoping to steer her quickly to the other side of the street.

Nellie, however, fixed her eyes on the boy as he pulled the scarf from his face. “Oh! It’s you, Jamie!” she exclaimed. “I hardly recognized you.”

Samantha wasn’t sure whether Nellie sounded relieved or worried.

Hands in his pockets, the boy walked toward them. “Aye, it’s me,” he told Nellie. “But it’s you who looks different, Nellie O’Malley.”

Nellie shrugged, but said nothing.

“Is it true you’re goin’ across the sea? Back to where we came from?” he asked, drawing so close that he now towered over Nellie.

Nellie nodded.

“I thought so,” the boy said with satisfaction. “I saw you and your friend when you was shoppin’ a few days ago, and I heard the lady with you talkin’ about it. I said to myself, that’s Nellie O’Malley, sure as life, and it looks like she’s done all right for herself.” The boy glanced at the neighboring houses. “When they sent me to deliver your package, I saw you’d done more than all right. You live in that fine house right on the park, don’t you?”

“Jamie—” Nellie protested.

Scowling, the boy interrupted her. “I ain’t askin’ for money. I only want to talk to you.” He looked pointedly at Samantha. “Alone.”

Samantha remembered all of Aunt Cornelia’s warnings about strangers. “We should go home,” she whispered to Nellie.

“It’s all right,” Nellie whispered back. “I know him.” Then Nellie told the boy, “I can’t leave my friend.”

The boy pointed at Samantha. “You stay there,” he told her. Then he looked at Nellie. “And you come over here.” He jerked his head, and Nellie followed him a few feet into the narrow side yard between the houses.

The falling snow stung Samantha’s cheeks as she stood alone on the sidewalk. Nellie’s back was to her, but Samantha could see that the boy had a hard, determined expression on his face. She watched as he reached into his coat and pulled out a small package.

What does he want? Samantha wondered as she saw Nellie shake her head.

Feeling increasingly uneasy, Samantha stomped her boots on the frozen sidewalk and tried to warm her icy feet. The wind was beginning to blow harder, and as she turned her face from the snow, she was relieved to see the neighborhood policeman. He was coming toward them, walking quickly down the other side of the street. He paused when he saw Samantha, Nellie, and the boy in the threadbare coat.

The policeman hesitated for a moment as he peered through the driving snow. Then he called out, “Hey! You, boy!”

When the boy saw the patrolman heading in his direction, he said something to Nellie. Then he ran away through the side yard, back behind the houses.

“Stop!” the policeman shouted, racing after him.

The policeman disappeared behind the houses. But in a few minutes, he returned to Samantha and Nellie. His round face was red and he was breathing hard. “Was that boy bothering you young ladies?” he demanded.

Samantha looked at Nellie questioningly. “No,” Nellie answered. “He just asked for some help.”

“Help? Is that what he calls it?” the policeman asked. “Well, don’t trust him. Boys like him would rather beg and steal than do an honest day’s work.” He looked at the girls closely. “I’ve seen you young ladies often enough. You live nearby, don’t you?”

“On the next block,” said Samantha.

“Well, you’d better get home now. I’ll make sure that young fellow doesn’t bother you again.” The policeman waited at the corner, pacing back and forth and watching as the girls hurried down the street.

As soon as they were far enough away, Samantha asked Nellie, “Who was that boy?”

“His name’s Jamie O’Connor,” Nellie said in a low tone.

“Is he a friend?”

Nellie kicked a piece of ice on the sidewalk before she answered. “His father helped my dad when we first moved here, and our families were friends. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Jamie, though.”

She paused, and Samantha thought she was going to say something more. But then both girls heard a sharp voice calling, “Samantha! Nellie!”

Samantha saw a square of light glowing from their tall brownstone home a few houses away. Gertrude, their housekeeper, was standing in the doorway, looking out into the snowy dusk as she called for them.

“We’re coming!” Samantha called back.

As the girls climbed the six marble steps that led from the sidewalk to their front door, Gertrude waited impatiently. “I can’t believe you two would come home late from school today of all days!” she scolded as she helped them take off their coats and scarves in the foyer. “Where have you been?”

Nellie looked down at the floor, and Samantha guessed that she didn’t want to mention meeting Jamie. “Mr. Bertram gave me these,” Samantha said, handing the package of books to Gertrude. “Aunt Cornelia ordered them.”

“Oh yes, your aunt was hoping they’d arrive,” said Gertrude, temporarily distracted. Then she continued briskly, “Now you girls had better get upstairs and check your trunks before I close them up. And then…”

With Gertrude’s voice still chiding them, Samantha and Nellie hurried upstairs. In the center of their room, Samantha was thrilled to see two shiny black trunks, both filled with neatly packed clothes that smelled of washing soda and starch.

For a moment, she forgot her worries about Nellie and the strange boy. Tomorrow, she thought excitedly, we’ll be at sea!