The Work and the Glory Read online

  Will had brought a jug of whiskey and had been sampling it liberally since they had arrived. He brought it up and took another deep draught. He offered it to Joshua, who shook his head. If Lydia knew he had been drinking…“Who is this man, anyway?”

  “Don’t know him personally,” Will said, wiping at his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “But Willard Chase does. Chase lives on Canandaigua Road, directly behind the Smith farm. He’s the one who sent down to Ithaca for this man. He’s a conjurer.” Will pronounced the word with a little shiver of awe. “He’s gonna divine where the gold Bible is hidden.”

  “Yeah,” Mark Cooper broke in. “He found a lost child once just by holding up the boy’s shirt to his eyes.”

  Joshua hooted. “He sounds crazier than Joseph.”

  Will swore and slammed the jug down on a box of harnessing gear. “You got any better ideas how we find out where Joe’s hidin’ the gold?”

  “We don’t even know for sure he’s got any gold.”

  Will grinned wickedly. “We know, don’t we boys?”

  By his look, Joshua assumed “boys” included Sarah and Hope as well. They all nodded, each trying to look like old Mother Wisdom herself.

  “How? What makes you so sure?”

  “Tell him, Mark.”

  Mark leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “The Smiths got company night before last.”

  “Company? Who?”

  “Josiah Stowell and Joseph Knight.”

  Joshua looked blank.

  “Josiah Stowell is a big rich farmer from South Bainbridge, down Pennsylvany way. Knight is his friend. Stowell is the one who hired Joseph to dig treasure for him down in Harmony. That’s how he met Emma.”

  “So?”

  “So!” David burst out. “These two men have helped Joe Smith from the beginning.”

  Joshua was still not impressed. “What does that prove?”

  Will rolled his eyes. “You ever heard a Preacher Clark, one of the ministers in town?”

  Joshua nodded.

  “Well, Preacher Clark said he talked with Martin Harris a while back. Harris said Joe told him the exact day when he was gonna get them plates.”

  He had finally got Joshua’s attention. “Martin Harris said that?” Joshua didn’t know anything about any men named Stowell or Knight, but Martin Harris was something else. He and Joseph were as thick as two thieves. “And what day did he say it would be?” Joshua asked, feeling a sudden quickening of excitement.

  Will smiled triumphantly, showing yellow teeth. “September twenty-second!”

  Joshua snapped up. “But that’s two days ago.”

  “Exactly,” Will crowed. “Joe’s got them plates right now. You think it’s coincidence this Knight and Stowell have come more than a hundred miles to be with Joe on September twenty-second?”

  Joshua just shook his head. It made sense, and yet…If Joseph really did have gold plates, Joshua was as ready to go after them as the next man. But if this was going to be just another long night of drinking whiskey and talking brave, he would pass. And Lydia only complicated matters further. When she found out they were going with the Murdocks, that would end it right there. He shook his head. But if Joseph really did have the plates…

  “There’s somethin’ else.”

  Joshua swung around in surprise. It was Hope who had spoken, catching them all off guard. Even her brother, Mark, was staring at her.

  “What?” Will demanded.

  She took a quick breath, then started to speak, darting looks at them, then dropping her eyes again quickly. “I was with Pa in town today. A man told Pa Joe Smith was over in Macedon Township today digging a well for a widow woman there. He’s earning money to pay old Mr. Barnham, the cabinetmaker, for a special wooden chest he’s ordered.” For the first time she looked squarely into Joshua’s eyes. “A chest he said had to be real strong. With a lock on it.”

  Will and Joshua and Mark were staring in amazement at the little mouse. She fairly beamed. She had scooped them all.

  Will turned cold sober and stepped up to thrust his face next to Joshua’s. “You know what that means?” he demanded. “It means that tonight ol’ Joe is gonna go after them plates and put ‘em in that box.” He turned grave. “If we don’t get ‘em tonight, he’ll hide ‘em good and we’ll never find them.”

  Joshua made up his mind. “Where is this conjurer?”

  “He’s staying at Chase’s house. They’ve got someone watching the Smith house. As soon as he makes a move, we’ll be there to catch him.”

  Sarah sneered at Joshua. “Yeah, assumin’ we’re not still standing here jawin’.”

  “All right,” Joshua said. “You go on ahead. As soon as Lydia comes, we’ll meet you at Chase’s.”

  Will nodded, then his mouth twisted. “Don’t be too long. Once we find out where the gold is, we ain’t waitin’ for nobody.”

  Now that full dark had fallen, the wind had picked up again. It hammered at the two figures riding south along Canandaigua Road. The temperature had dropped sharply, and Lydia pulled her long coat around her, trying to hold on to her hat with one hand and manage the reins with the other as the horses trotted steadily along.

  They were nearing a large house and Joshua slowed his horse to a walk. She reined in beside him. “Is this the Willard Chase place?” He had to half shout it at her with the wind whipping his words away.

  Lydia yanked on the reins, pulling the horse up to a halt. “Willard Chase?” she said in alarm.

  Joshua pulled his horse around to face her. “Yes. Is this his place?”

  Lydia felt her heart drop. “You didn’t tell me we were going to his house.”

  Joshua seemed baffled. “I guess I didn’t. What does it matter?”

  “Willard Chase is a class leader in the Methodist church. My father is an elder in the Presbyterian church. They’ve worked together on several town committees.”

  “Oh,” Joshua said, a little irritated, “then your pa shouldn’t mind you bein’ with him tonight.”

  “My father thinks I’m at Aunt Bea’s house,” she burst out, feeling her temper rising. She had come to the livery stable with the full intention of telling Joshua it was over between them, but he had swept her up with the talk of the gold plates and this being the very night they could finally get them from Smith. Palmyra had been buzzing about the gold Bible for four years now. To be with the group that would be the first to see it…

  She had finally pushed down the voice which kept warning her to leave immediately, and agreed to ride south and join the “others” who were going to get the plates. Now she realized Joshua had been deliberately vague about who the “others” were. But Willard Chase? News of her presence would be back to her father before daybreak.

  “No, Joshua, I can’t let him see me. I’d better go back.”

  He grabbed at her reins. “Come on, Lydia, this is it. This is the night.” When she continued shaking her head, his voice rose higher. “Look, I’ll go in then. I won’t tell him you’re out here. Once we know where Joseph is, then you can go with us to get the plates.” He didn’t wait for her to answer, just pointed to a large elm tree. “Wait there. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  As he spurred his horse and cantered away, Lydia nearly screamed at him to stop. Events were quickly getting out of hand and she felt a looming sense of dread. By the time she had reached the livery stable, she was already an emotional wreck. Just getting out of the house had been an incredible drain. Her father had cancelled his trip to Canandaigua because of the weather, and with the storm coming he had put his foot down. There was no need now for her to go to her Aunt’s for the night. It had taken both tears and tantrum to finally win out and get out of the house.

  Then all the way to the stable she had fretted about how she was going to confront Joshua with her news. She knew now that whatever she had once felt for Joshua—mostly a combination of physical attraction for his dark handsomeness and an infantile des
ire to flaunt her independence—was now gone, but he had not sensed it yet. He still assumed everything was wonderful between them. And that made the task twice as difficult. If she had been completely honest with herself, she would have seen that part of her willingness to ride south with Joshua was her desire to delay the confrontation for a while longer. But to her dismay, she now realized that waiting had only complicated things tremendously.

  She tied her horse to a bush and moved around the trunk of the elm tree to its lee side, trying at least to blunt the force of the wind. Pulling her coat around her, she hugged herself, feeling more forlorn than she could ever remember feeling in her life.

  Three times in the last day and a half she had started letters to Joshua. Three times she had torn them up. She couldn’t choose evasion. She had to face him. Would he be hurt or would he be angry? Would he blame her or would he turn on Nathan? Glumly she answered her own question. A week ago in the store Joshua had caught them—she frowned at her choice of words. There was nothing to feel guilty about. They had just been talking. But she had seen the jealousy twist Joshua’s features and watched the anger rise in a great surge within him.

  And what would she say if he did ask if Nathan was the cause of her change of feelings. She had known it was over with Joshua before Nathan had started to dominate her thoughts, but…She shook her head, feeling guilty. As if there weren’t enough hurt in the Steed family already.

  Turning toward the house she peered at the warm glow of lamplight coming from the windows. She could see the shadows of people, moving against the blinds. They moved slowly and deliberately. No one seemed in any hurry to leave. She frowned, willing Joshua to hurry. The chill was seeping beneath her coat, through her gloves, into her riding boots. But it was more than the cold. There would be no telling Joshua anything until the search for the gold Bible was done with. Suddenly she didn’t really care about Joe Smith anymore. She just wanted this thing with Joshua done with and behind her.

  A half hour dragged by, seeming like twice that. The rain was still some time off now, but the temperature continued to drop, and Lydia moved back and forth, stamping her feet and blowing on her hands. Twice she had shrunk back as other men rode up and entered the house. But there was still no sign of Joshua. Her irritation had long since turned into a burning anger. The fact she was out here alone in the dark and cold meant nothing to him. They were probably drinking hot coffee laced with rum or other liquor and patting each other on the back and telling themselves how brave they were.

  Twice she nearly got on her horse and simply rode away. She found the night foreboding and the promise of what was yet to come less and less attractive. Her aunt’s house was just half a mile up the road, and the thoughts of it beckoned to her like the glow of a warm fire on a winter’s night. But leaving now meant she would have to work out another time to see Joshua and confront him. Going through this emotional trauma again was more than she could bear. So she waited, getting more exasperated with each passing minute.

  Suddenly she froze, peering toward the house. Joshua was coming, but he was not alone. There were four or five others with him. She stepped back quickly, letting the deep shadows of the overhanging tree embrace her.

  “Lydia!” It was an urgent whisper.

  She stepped out, her heart dropping. With the heavy overcast it was very dark away from the house, but she didn’t need much light to recognize the figure of Will Murdock. Her anger flared. No wonder Joshua had avoided mentioning who was in on this night’s activity! But almost instantly the anger gave way to fear as she recognized the others with Will. Mark, David, Mark’s drab little sister, and another girl Lydia didn’t know. There was not a one of them who was renowned for discretion. Had they known Joshua was bringing her? Yes, almost certainly. Had they told Willard Chase she was out here waiting for them? A new wave of coldness swept over her as a picture of her father flashed through her mind.

  She spun around to face Joshua, as angry as she could ever remember being at anyone. In the darkness he took no note of it. “We were right, Lydia. Joseph’s got the plates.”

  Will, likewise oblivious to her mood, jumped in excitedly. “The Smiths somehow got word of the conjurer being here. This afternoon Emma rushed over to Macedon to fetch Joe home. He got home ‘bout an hour ago. He’s getting ready to go out and find the plates.”

  Lydia turned, piqued in spite of her anger. “Where are they?”

  David Murdock broke in gleefully. “The conjurer says Joseph has them hidden in the forest someplace.”

  “Oh, good,” she cried, “in the forest someplace.”

  Mark’s sister seemed stung by her sarcasm. “Joe’s gonna get them tonight and bring them home. We’re gonna follow him.”

  Lydia turned in disgust, but spun back around as her mind suddenly registered what she had just seen. Will Murdock had a rifle in his hand. She turned. Mark had a two-foot length of oak limb and was tapping it menacingly against his leg. Jonathan had a pistol stuck in his belt, and one hand caressed the butt lovingly. She whirled to face Joshua. “What is this?” She jerked her hand, pointing at Will’s rifle. “What are you going to do?”

  Joshua reached out and took her hand. She jerked it away. “You have guns?”

  Will stuck his face next to hers, his eyes wide and yellow, like those of a lynx when caught in the lantern light. “By morning we’ll have the gold and ol’ Joe Smith will have a few lumps on his head.” He threw back his head and howled. Lydia averted her face, the whiskey on his breath nearly making her gag.

  Joshua stepped between them. “No one’s gonna get hurt, Lydia. We’re just makin’ sure Joe doesn’t get away.”

  She stared at him, not believing he couldn’t see the ridiculous contradiction in his words. With sudden determination she spun on her heel and walked quickly to where she had tied her horse.

  Joshua was beside her in a moment and grabbed her arm. “Lydia, what are you doing?”

  She spun around, her eyes blazing. “This is insane, Joshua,” she hissed. “Somebody is going to get hurt and I want no part of it.”

  “Come on, Lydia,” he urged, keeping his voice low, so the others wouldn’t hear. “Will just talks big.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me the Murdocks were with you?”

  He looked down, not meeting her eyes. “There are others too.”

  “You knew I wouldn’t come if you told me, didn’t you?”

  From behind them, Will called in a contemptuous voice. “What’s the matter, Joshua? Your woman losing her nerve?”

  Joshua half whirled, his mouth tight. “That’s enough, Will.” He turned back to her, his eyes pleading. “Lydia, just for an hour. Then if nothing happens, I’ll take you to your aunt’s house.”

  She stuck a foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle. “I’m going now, Joshua.”

  Behind them the girl named Sarah made some comment, and they all laughed.

  “Are you coming?” Lydia asked quietly.

  “Maybe you’d better go, Joshua,” Will jeered. “This is gonna be man’s work tonight.”

  Joshua suddenly shook his head. “Lydia, all I’m asking for is one hour.”

  She stared down at him. Finally, she shook her head. “No, Joshua, you’re asking for a lot more than that.” She reined the horse around sharply. “Good-bye.” She dug her heels into the horse’s flanks and it leaped away.

  “Watch out for the hobgoblins, Lydia, they’ll—” But the wind whipped the rest of Will’s taunting call away across the open fields. Lydia did not turn back but spurred the horse harder, squinting her eyes against the wind and the hot tears which sprang to her eyes.

  The Steed family were having a quiet evening at home. Nathan was lying on his parents’ bed, laboriously plowing through The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, which he had gotten from Palmyra’s tiny library. His father was patching a saddle strap, trimming the new piece of leather with a knife and then twisting the blade point round and round to make the holes for the b
uckle. His mother sat at the table quietly reading the Bible to Matthew and Becca. Melissa was at the mirror, brushing her hair until it crackled with static electricity.

  Nathan stopped and looked up, cocking his head to listen. For a moment he thought he had heard something. Finally he shrugged. The wind moaned around the cabin like a wounded animal, rattling the door and the oiled paper at the main window. He started to drop his head again when he saw the dog. His head was up, ears cocked forward, eyes staring at the door. A low growl came from his throat.

  “Pa,” Nathan said.

  As his father looked up, Nathan gestured with his head. The dog came to its feet, growling more openly now, then trotted to the door and gave a low bark. Then Nathan heard it too. The clatter of horse’s hooves on the hard-packed dirt outside.

  “Someone’s here,” Melissa said unnecessarily.

  Benjamin stood and went to the door as all the family paused in what they were doing, curious as to who would be out on a night such as this.

  “Mr. Steed?”

  Nathan jerked up sharply. He couldn’t see past his father into the night, but there was no mistaking that voice.

  “My name is Lydia McBride. Could I please speak with you and Nathan on an urgent matter?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joshua had had little time to worry about Lydia’s moodiness and her sudden flight. She had barely gone when Willard Chase came bolting out of the house. Joseph was getting ready to move. In an instant, the men had been organized into teams to cover all of the possible routes he might take. Chase had tried to send Joshua and the Murdocks to the north on Stafford Road in case he went that way. But Will brushed the suggestion aside angrily. The long hill owned by Pliney Sexton, which supposedly was the site where the plates were buried, was south on Canandaigua Road another two miles or so down from the Chase farm. There was no way Will Murdock was going to be cheated out of his chance to be at the center of the action. The others had agreed quickly, partly because time was too critical for debate, partly because they sensed that Will and his party were willing to take whatever action was necessary to get the plates from Smith.