08 April, 1870
Oh, Bertram - so much has occurred in the last three days that I hardly know where to begin. The events, I must admit, while exciting, have taken a toll on your Ellie. I shall begin, I suppose, where I left off.
It was on the sixth that a small party left from Sir Cosmo’s in an attempt to find the elusive Mr. Land. Having seen his location during meditation, I knew only the appearance of his whereabouts. Unfortunately, I did not recognize the area of London where he was staying. With some assistance from a map and the child Edward - although I find it a tragedy that so young a child should be so well acquainted with such unseemly areas - we were able to ascertain the general area where he might be, near the rail yards.
Together with Lady Ottoline our party ventured toward where Mr. Land might have been when I saw him in my meditations. I must admit it was both a frustrating and frightening experience. I do not feel adequately prepared, Berty, to be participating in these activities. Spencer is the adventurer these days, not I! I must admit that I envy him, in a way, in that when his assistance is needed all that is required of him is to lift his weapon and fire. I, rather, must try to engage my thoughts in a way which is helpful to our cause and, I must say, I often feel overwhelmed by the collective intelligence and talents of the company we lately find. If I were but younger - for you and I had many adventures in our early years - perhaps I would be more comfortable with our recent events.
To be entirely honest with you, Bertram, and I know you would see directly to the heart of my concerns in any case, that amongst our new friends I find myself feeling both inadequate and antiquated. It is not difficult to sense when they are withholding information, but difficult to know if they do so out of a concern for my so-called sensibilities - of which they make such assumptions that must apply to most women of my years - or because they believe the information is somehow dangerous for me to hold, or because they do not believe me capable of assisting in any way.
I suppose that my occupation must also come into play.
We both knew that there would be difficult times ahead when my spiritualist
talents began manifesting. I still find myself amazed at the ease with which
you accepted it, Bertram, and am ever thankful for your support and guidance
during those early years. Unfortunately, society at large does not respect
spiritualists. It does not help our cause that so many charlatans have used
fakery to swindle their clients. I am quite aware that most people believe
me to be somewhat dotty.
Miss Whitnell has apparently recently come into her own spiritual talents, and I can easily see in her the difficulty of accepting and working with what she is learning. How well I remember going through those times, myself! I would offer what assistance to her that I could, but I believe she views me simply as a deluded old woman. Her friend Miss Sinclair has made no attempt to veil her contempt and disbelief of my talents. I hope that she is more able to see the true way of things as Miss Whitnell continues on her path.
I know, Berty, what you would say. “Buck up, old girl,” and to use my talents as I should. I will try, Bertram. I will try.
But back to our story! With Lady Ottoline’s assistance, and under the guise of searching for exploited young women to aid, we ventured to where we thought Mr. Land could be. The events that followed are quite a muddle in my memory. I identified Mr. Land, almost causing him to flee - thinking we were agents against him. He was taken prisoner, briefly, by a party who definitely did not have his best interests at heart, but with the talents of Uncle Spencer and others in our party we rescued him and brought him to those with whom he will be quite safe. I do not feel I reacted well during his rescue, and did - in fact - feel quite timid and unsure of my actions.
We returned to Sir Cosmo’s home, where we have been residing as his guest during the recent adventures. It seemed all was well, for a time, until it was discovered that Edward was missing. Miss Sinclair donned trousers - and indicated later that I should find her use of trousers to be scandalous, unknowing of my true thoughts on the matter - and searched for him on the rooftops. Unable to assist on the physical search, I retired to meditate and seek him out in my own way. I had some success, but only in learning that he was alive, enclosed within a strange cage, and in discourse with his captors.
Later, we learned via ransom note that Edward had been captured by someone known as the Young Cobb. Sir Cosmo, Miss Whitnell, Miss Sinclair, and the rest of our party are apparently well acquainted with this Cobb person, to their misfortune. The note proposed a trade of Edward for the Cobb’s employees which we have been holding prisoner - including a stoic Indian fellow named Salmalin - and the plans for the strange gun which I recall from my dream in which Mr. Singleton’s murder which are apparently in Sir Cosmo’s possession.
Miss Whitnell’s departed Aunt Hethelyn made herself known to me, once again, in order to point the way toward a spell in one of Madam Zephyrine’s books which might be of use to us. I volunteered the use of my tiny decorative scrying mirror, and together Miss Whitnell and I created a protective devise we hoped Sir Cosmo would be able to pass on to Edward.
The events which passed in our attempt to rescue Edward were quite dramatic, Berty, and you would have felt right at home. Uncle Spencer was a fine shot! There were many explosions, and Sir Cosmo said later that the bespelled mirror was, indeed, of use to Edward’s protection. I was unable to see much of the action, as Miss Whitnell felt compelled to push me to the bottom of the boat. (If only they knew of our past adventures together, Bertram, perhaps my new acquaintances would not be so quick to presume my helplessness in such circumstances. In time, perhaps. They, like our daughter Cordelia, make assumptions based on my appearance and occupation.) One of the Cobb’s employees, the thugee Salmalin, satisfyingly came to our aid, and almost perished. Although he is not an innocent party to the events, with his assistance to our cause he has shown some promise toward reformation. I was able to pull him from the brink of death, and you know from experience how wearying that can be.
In the end, there is quite a long story to tell and many different parties to the story to come together as a whole. It is all quite confusing, I must say. Sir Anthony was able to pull all the threads together and speak to us all the relevant points, although I doubt I will be able to remember them all. I certainly do not remember it well enough to record here.
I felt the need to visit with the invalid Salmalin and see if his health is progressing, and accompanied Miss Whitnell to the hospital. He is mending. I do not feel I have enough healing talent to aid him further at this time, although I would certainly come to his aid should he take a turn for the worse. Perhaps I shall continue study in the healing arts. Time will tell.
I do not know, at this point, how Uncle and I might continue to be involved with this group. A group, I might add, which has been given its own name: League of the Golden Clematis. Quite a lovely name, if a bit unwieldy.
I think that perhaps it is time, Bertram, for this old woman to stop behaving as one. It was all too simple for me to slip into the undemanding affectations of a silly old widow after your departure. Although I felt inadequate during recent events, we both know I’m quite capable of great contributions to such endeavors. You are all too correct, Berty. I am now telling myself. Buck up, old girl.
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