Chapter 30

Sarah

"Fortune... and love favour the brave." ― Ovid

The train journey was accomplished in weary silence interspersed with the occasional fraught questions from Sarah. "What if we are too late and his ship has already sailed?" "How will we find him?" "Is there another port from which ships sail to America?" "What if we are going to the wrong place?"

To all these, Ambrose gave calm and reasoned replies. "If he has already sailed, then you can write to him and wait for his response." No, I could not wait that long. "We will go to the docks and enquire about ships sailing to America." Yes, that is what we shall do. "There are other ports, but Liverpool is the most likely one to embark from." I hope you are right.

In this fretful state, Sarah and Ambrose arrived in Birmingham. They were in luck. A mail train was indeed due to leave overnight for Liverpool in two hours' time. However, there were no passenger carriages available on the train. This was not going to dissuade Sarah. If there were no passenger seats, then they would sit in the carriage with the mailbags, such was her determination to be on that train. Even Ambrose and all his reasoning was no match for this fierce resolve. After paying a small fee to the coachman, they were allowed aboard the mail carriage. With her enterprising nature coming to the fore, Sarah moved a few of the mailbags so as to create makeshift seats from them. And then, they both settled themselves as best they could for the overnight journey to Liverpool.

So it was that, tired and rumpled, they arrived at Liverpool station just after eight o'clock the following morning. From the station, they took a hackney carriage to the docks, where Sarah made enquiries from a helpful dock worker about ships sailing to New York that day. "The Scotia yonder, miss," said the dock worker. "It be leaving for New York." He pointed to where a long, paddle-wheeled steamship was docked several yards to their right.

Arm in arm with Ambrose, Sarah walked quickly towards the ship. The dock was busy with trunks being loaded and passengers boarding. Ambrose guided Sarah towards a ship steward who was checking a group of passengers' tickets. They waited, trying to keep their impatience in check, until he waved the passengers aboard and looked in their direction. "You will let me do the talking, Sarah, if you please," Ambrose admonished as they approached the steward.

The man in question looked at them enquiringly. "Good morning, sir. May I please see your tickets?" he asked.

Ambrose spoke in his gentle, cultured voice. "I wonder, sir, if you could help me on a matter of some delicacy. I believe a Mr Benjamin Stanton of Stanton Hall in Oxfordshire, is travelling on this ship. I am manager of his estates and there is a matter of grave urgency on which I must speak with him before he departs. Would it be possible to let me on board so that I may find him?"

The steward frowned in irritation. "I am sorry, sir, but only passengers with tickets may go aboard now. The ship is leaving imminently. Perhaps, if you have papers for the gentleman in question, I may arrange to have them delivered to him. Let me see the manifest to find his cabin. A Mr Stanton, you say?"

"Yes, that is correct," said Ambrose.

The steward leafed through a large sheaf of papers in his hand, looking for the Stanton name. "Ah, here it is. I see Mr Stanton is booked into cabin 216." He looked up at them. "Do you have documents for him? If so, I can ensure he receives them."

Sarah had been listening to this exchange with growing frustration. Now, she clutched Ambrose's arm tightly and spoke up, "If I may ask sir, is it possible to purchase a ticket to get on board? You see, it is a matter of the utmost urgency that I speak to Mr Stanton."

The steward turned to her in astonishment. "This is highly irregular—" he began.

"It is most irregular," she agreed hurriedly, "but it is a matter of the greatest importance. I would be immeasurably grateful if you could see your way to assisting us."

The steward hesitated then shrugged. "The ship leaves in just under an hour, madam," he said. "If you make your way to the offices of MacIver and Co on Water Street over there, you may possibly have time to purchase a ticket, but you must make haste."

"Thank you, sir, we will. Please do wait for us."

"We run to a tight schedule, madam." He took out his pocket watch and inspected it. "In exactly thirty-two minutes, we shall be shutting the doors."

"Very well." This time it was Ambrose that spoke. "We shall make haste and return within that time. Come, Sarah." With that, he began to walk her quickly in the direction of Water Street. As they walked, he said under his breath. "If you mean to go on the ship, Sarah, then I shall have to come with you. I cannot let you travel alone."

A thought suddenly occurred to her, heightening her distress. "Do we have the funds for it?" she asked breathlessly.

"That we do," he said grimly.

After that, they were silent, Sarah's whole being intent on reaching their destination as quickly as possible. Ten minutes later, they entered the imposing white stone building on Water Street and were directed to the ticket office on the third floor. Breaths puffing, they took the stairs up, urgency in their every step. At last, on the third floor, they found a clerk seated at a desk and as quickly as they could, gave him to understand that they required tickets for passage on the Scotia today. Again, they were met with astonishment, but Ambrose spoke so persuasively and calmly that soon the clerk drew up the contract papers to write out the tickets.

"That will be ￡60, Mr Cranshaw, for two first class cabins on board the Scotia, leaving today for New York."

Sarah stifled a gasp. Sixty pounds was an exorbitant sum. "Is there nothing cheaper? A second class cabin perhaps?" she asked hopefully, but the clerk was apologetic.

"I am sorry, madam. The Scotia only has first class accommodation."

Sarah's heart sank deep into her chest. There was no possible way they could afford such a steep sum of money, even half of it for just one ticket. A feeling of doom came over her. This journey had been in vain. She would not be getting on board the ship that carried Benjamin away from her.

All this time, Ambrose had remained silent. She looked to him now in consternation, knowing what he was about to say. Her brother stared into her eyes, a look of compassion on his face. Dear Ambrose, trying to find a way to let her down lightly. "It's alright," she mumbled. "I understand."

But then, Ambrose turned to face the clerk. "That will be fine," he said firmly. "Two first class tickets please, and could we make haste?" Under Sarah's astonished gaze, he took out a pouch and counted the requisite coins, handing them over to the clerk.

Quietly, she hissed into her brother's ear, "How on earth can we afford this expense?"

He huffed out a laugh. "Sarah, ever since the late earl left me some funds in his will, I have put away a hundred pounds as a dowry for you, in case it was ever needed. Just know that you have now made inroads into that sum."

She stared at him, speechless. Truly, he was the very best of brothers. But then, there was no further time for speech as the clerk returned with their tickets. He looked at the clock anxiously, saying, "There is only a quarter of an hour remaining before the doors are shut. I would advise great speed in making your way to the ship."

"Thank you, sir," replied Ambrose. "We shall make haste. Good day." And with that, they began another hurried journey, this time back to the ship. They had left their travel cases at the dock, and now, panting with the exertion, they returned to the steward and placed their newly purchased tickets into his hand. He smiled, more friendly now, and directed them to cabins 288 and 289. Their cases were handed over to an attendant, and a short time later, they found themselves boarding the Scotia.