stepped back, and bowed. "After you, madam."
CHAPTER FIVE
Hero hesitated, looking into the dark, still shop, then entered. It was not her first time in this establishment, but for some reason nothing looked familiar. Perhaps it was the fact that she knew she should not be here. The beloved musty odor of old books struck her as ominous in the silence. Hero felt a shiver run down her spine as they entered the darkened premises.
"Mr. Beasley." Arthur called out in a hushed tone that seemed right for a bookshop. "Mr. Beasley."
The proprietor did not come at their quiet calls. Nor when they made their voices louder. "I have occasionally had to track Mr. Beasley down among his shelves," Arthur said. But she could see by the slump in his shoulders that he now believed himself to have been thoroughly duped.
Her heart sank. For a moment she had allowed herself to hope that Arthur's note was not a hoax. He deserved to be the one to find the original manuscript. He was an even better Arthurian scholar than Digby himself, and the find would have made him a clear candidate to lead the Round Table Society.
"Let's look, then. He is an older man, and I don't think he hears as well as he used to." Carefully, they searched the stacks of shelves. There were marvels and treasures that Hero would have loved to stop and browse, but no hunchbacked, white-haired shop proprietor.
At last they met each other in the middle of the shelves. "No one seems to be here. We should leave."
She touched his sleeve lightly, in sympathy. "I'm sorry. I know how disappointing this must be."
Just as Arthur opened the door to the shop for her, a breeze caught a slip of paper lying upon the floor. Upon it was a very familiar scrawl. Hero felt a chill pass through her. "Look," she called out as she bent to pick up the paper.
It was another note.
She pulled her spectacles out and put them on before she held the note out to him and they read it together. "Climb to the heights to win your treasure." It was as cryptic as the first note, and made little sense.
"What do you suppose it means?" she asked. "Climb to the heights? Should we look for the nearest hill? In London?"
He did not answer. He did not laugh. He simply took the note from her fingers and searched it for any clue to the meaning of the phrase scrawled upon it.
While he stared unbelievingly at the piece of paper in his hand, she said softly, "It is the same handwriting, I'm sure of it."
Still without a word, he took out the other note and they compared the two side by side. He nodded. "There is no doubt, I agree." Unmistakably, the same hand had penned both notes. He said quietly, "Perhaps the note refers to the upper level of the shop? I should — "
Hero felt as if someone were staring at her from behind, but when she turned to look behind her, there was no one visible. "Mr. Beasley?" she called out.
There was no answer. She turned back to face Arthur. "I don't like this at all. The shop is closed but the door unlocked. The note left where anyone could find it."
"True, but who would look at it twice but the one it was meant for?" he asked.
She read the message again and understood what he meant. No one else would think twice about such a short, seemingly nonsensical note. "And where is Mr. Beasley?" Despite the note, despite the confirmation that both notes were from the same hand, she had a deep dread sitting like a lump in the pit of her stomach. "I think we should leave," she repeated.
"We have come this far, are you suggesting we abandon the quest?"
She nodded. "I am." Cowardice, she knew with shame. It had seemed like an interesting mystery to solve. But now it seemed something else. Something ominous. "You are no fool. You should refuse to play the note sender's game any further."
Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but was quickly hidden. "I am sorry I brought you into this. I will take you home immediately."
At once she felt guilty. If he had come alone, he would already be
CHAPTER FIVE
Hero hesitated, looking into the dark, still shop, then entered. It was not her first time in this establishment, but for some reason nothing looked familiar. Perhaps it was the fact that she knew she should not be here. The beloved musty odor of old books struck her as ominous in the silence. Hero felt a shiver run down her spine as they entered the darkened premises.
"Mr. Beasley." Arthur called out in a hushed tone that seemed right for a bookshop. "Mr. Beasley."
The proprietor did not come at their quiet calls. Nor when they made their voices louder. "I have occasionally had to track Mr. Beasley down among his shelves," Arthur said. But she could see by the slump in his shoulders that he now believed himself to have been thoroughly duped.
Her heart sank. For a moment she had allowed herself to hope that Arthur's note was not a hoax. He deserved to be the one to find the original manuscript. He was an even better Arthurian scholar than Digby himself, and the find would have made him a clear candidate to lead the Round Table Society.
"Let's look, then. He is an older man, and I don't think he hears as well as he used to." Carefully, they searched the stacks of shelves. There were marvels and treasures that Hero would have loved to stop and browse, but no hunchbacked, white-haired shop proprietor.
At last they met each other in the middle of the shelves. "No one seems to be here. We should leave."
She touched his sleeve lightly, in sympathy. "I'm sorry. I know how disappointing this must be."
Just as Arthur opened the door to the shop for her, a breeze caught a slip of paper lying upon the floor. Upon it was a very familiar scrawl. Hero felt a chill pass through her. "Look," she called out as she bent to pick up the paper.
It was another note.
She pulled her spectacles out and put them on before she held the note out to him and they read it together. "Climb to the heights to win your treasure." It was as cryptic as the first note, and made little sense.
"What do you suppose it means?" she asked. "Climb to the heights? Should we look for the nearest hill? In London?"
He did not answer. He did not laugh. He simply took the note from her fingers and searched it for any clue to the meaning of the phrase scrawled upon it.
While he stared unbelievingly at the piece of paper in his hand, she said softly, "It is the same handwriting, I'm sure of it."
Still without a word, he took out the other note and they compared the two side by side. He nodded. "There is no doubt, I agree." Unmistakably, the same hand had penned both notes. He said quietly, "Perhaps the note refers to the upper level of the shop? I should — "
Hero felt as if someone were staring at her from behind, but when she turned to look behind her, there was no one visible. "Mr. Beasley?" she called out.
There was no answer. She turned back to face Arthur. "I don't like this at all. The shop is closed but the door unlocked. The note left where anyone could find it."
"True, but who would look at it twice but the one it was meant for?" he asked.
She read the message again and understood what he meant. No one else would think twice about such a short, seemingly nonsensical note. "And where is Mr. Beasley?" Despite the note, despite the confirmation that both notes were from the same hand, she had a deep dread sitting like a lump in the pit of her stomach. "I think we should leave," she repeated.
"We have come this far, are you suggesting we abandon the quest?"
She nodded. "I am." Cowardice, she knew with shame. It had seemed like an interesting mystery to solve. But now it seemed something else. Something ominous. "You are no fool. You should refuse to play the note sender's game any further."
Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but was quickly hidden. "I am sorry I brought you into this. I will take you home immediately."
At once she felt guilty. If he had come alone, he would already be
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