Chapter 9 – The Search Begins

London – July 1862

Millicent stepped out of the café with a bounce in her step.  Last night had been unexpected but very much enjoyed. Abigail and Alice were very imaginative. Breakfast was a pastry and excellent coffee.  She was ready face the world. She walked towards the University. A nip in the air indicated that it was fall in this Northern City. Students rushed between classed bundled with mufflers and steam just showing on their breath.  Once she arrived at the three story, U shaped building, she headed in to the second floor.  She arrived at the double doors at the end of one of the legs and opened the door.

“Hello again, Miranda”

“Hello Millicent. I trust your hotel is fine?”

“I had a very pleasant evening thank you.  The hotel is excellent as always. The leaves are just beginning to turn. I really should have you over for a tea and proper conversation.” Millicent thought that full disclosure might be more than was necessary.

“How long are you in town for?”

“That depends a bit on the list. Have you got the addresses?”

“Yes, right here.  I have five names. Interestingly, there is one place that has a name from the other list as well. That is a bit of a surprise given your constraints and Smith’s.”

“Very little in life surprises me anymore.”

“Well you both wanted good engineers that aren’t employed presently.  That makes for a small pool of candidates. Then your desire for scholarship narrows it even more.  Smith’s list did not make that distinction.”

Millicent considered this bit of intelligence. Then asked, “What else should I know about the candidates themselves?”

Miranda said, “Oh they are an interesting lot. I’m not sure University treated them right…” and she began to fill in the spaces on why these apparently excellent students were not currently fully employed. Most of them seemed to be working at a family business after University.  Millicent got a sense of how the University dealt with scholarship students.  And she got a sense of the unwritten hierarchy that seemed to permeate even these walls.

Millicent added this information to her standard notebook and then said to Miranda,  “I absolutely must take you out on the town for an afternoon. I’ll send over a time and we shall make it date. “

“I won’t be holding my breath. But I would be delighted. I haven’t done anything like that in ages. “

“You wound me.  I shan’t let you down. I must be off. Give the Dean my best and expect to hear from me. “

She left the office and crossed the leaf strewn quad, walking briskly past clots of bundled students. She headed towards the same street as Abigail’s café that ran into the University. Glancing at the addresses, she noticed two were in the area of Stepney[1]. Well, that would be an interesting pair.  From that main road, she hailed a taxi. A cart arrived with the usual smartly dressed driver.  “I need to go to Stepney.”

“Beggin your pardon ma’am. Tis a rough neighborhood and I’ll not likely get a fare back. “

“I shall pay your for the fare there and back to St. Paul’s.  I won’t ask you to delay further while I conduct my interviews.”

“Nay ma’am. Your money is nought good when it’s nicked.” And he drove off.

“Spineless twit,” she muttered.

Millicent hailed two more cabs with similar results.  On the fourth try, she found a cabby willing to take her. Remarkably, it was the same driver who had offered such sound advice about the train station just yesterday – Liam O’Hannigan. Millicent straightened her hair and her skirt and made her request.

“Stepney can be a rough place ma’am. “

“Yes, I know. Three of your competitors have refused to take me there even with return fare. “

“We can be a pusillanimous lot. Round trip fare in advance ye say?”

“Yes and a tip if I make it there and back before 6PM.”

“How long will your business take?”

“I can’t be sure, but less than two hours.”

“I’ll take your fare.”

“You’re not afraid of the dark and dangerous Stepney?”

“Nay, ma’am. I live there. You should be,  but that’s not  my business.  That will be 10 bob each way. “

“Here is four crowns. You’ll get the tip on my return.”

“Beggin your pardon. What’s to say I don’t leave you there?”

“You could. But I’ve already paid excessively. I’ve promised you a tip which you might expect to be excessive.  Another consideration is that I will need a driver for the week and if you’ll drive me where I want, you’ll do nicely. But if that is not of interest, than I shall have to find my way back on my own. “ Millicent looked at her nails looking too bored to hear the answer.

O’Hannigan smiled widely. “Savy ma’am. Up you go.” Millicent handed him the address near Wellington and Heath Street.  The rough ride took about 45 minutes. The hack parked at Spring Garden and helped her out.

“I have two addresses near here. I expect both calls will be quick.”

“Might I see the addresses?”

Millicent handed over the slip of paper.  O’Hannigan reviewed the names and addresses. “Mordecai, the watchmaker. You’ll find him off Gold Street. After that, it is the O’Malleys mechanics. That is down toward the river off High Street – close to the Fields.  I expect I should take you there ma’am”

“I can walk just fine.”

“Oh I’ve no doubt. But the other cabbies weren’t complete nits. Tain’t safe for an outsider. I’ll not be getting my tip if you get yourself robbed.”

“Very well, Mr…..”. Millicent decided it was best to maintain her previous guise.

“O’Hannigan. Liam O’Hannigan esquire at your service.” He bowed broadly and tipped his top hat.

Amused, Millicent handed him some coin. “Your service is noted. Is six pence enough to get a meat pie and a mug?”

“More like a schilling.”

“Here’s two. I might do with a sausage role when I return and be sure to tip the vendor properly,” Millicent said.

“Aye ma’am. I’ll be here.”

Heading down Wellington, she made a right turn on Gold Street. About half way up the narrow cobbled street, hung a huge gold watch that showed the current time.  She at least knew where she was going. The shop had a red façade with a recessed door to the right of the small lot.  The windows were barred so it was difficult to see the wares.  The door tinkled not unlike the door at Abigail’s café.  However, when the door closed a metal ball was released that rolled down the track. At certain intersections, the ball would hit levers that would set off clocks and other devices. First a cuckoo popped out of clock and began its call. Then a clock chimed the hour. As the ball turned a corner, a ballerina came out to sounds from a music box and started twirling. The track continued ever so slightly uphill on the final run until the ball rested lightly against a stop. An Archimedes Screw[2] drew the ball up to its original height where it rolled out and rested lightly against a stop.  The cacophony of cuckoos, clocks, and music boxes seemed to reset. Millicent paused for a moment and then clapped her hands together.

“Bravo. Wonderful.” Millicent was impressed at the ingenuity and playfulness. It was perfect.

“You like all that noise? Me, I think it’s crazy.  Kids open the door when I work with a customer and Oy. “ The gruff voice came from a man a bit shorter than her, with gray hair and a well-trimmed salt and pepper beard.  He wore a vest and sleeve protectors. A device attached to his glasses allowed him to see things with extra magnification.

“I think it is magnificent. How much time does it take to reset the lift?”

“Eh… not much” he walked over to the wall and pulled a chain which reset the counter weights.

“That’s it?” she exclaimed.

“There should be more? The rest seem to reset themselves, “ he said proudly.

“This must have taken you months.” She asked.

“Me? I’ve got a business to run. My daughter made this. Every so often she adds some new tchatshke. ‘Enough’ I say, but does she listen? No. ‘I want to try this gear’ she says.  ‘I want to add a new automaton’ she says. ‘I can make it reset on its own ‘ she says.  ‘Who needs it ?’ I say” The words said complaint, but the pride in his voice was obvious.

“Now what does a nice lady like you want in some old watch shop on the East End?” he asked. “Need a watch for some man? Or a clock for your wall?”

“Oh dear, my apologies. I think the entrance overwhelmed me. Here” She presented her greeting card. “My name is Millicent Morgaine and I would like to speak to Rachael Weiz.”

“My daughter? You want to speak to my daughter? Why?” The friendly gruff voice suddenly got very short and protective.

“That is between us. However, at the moment I want to complement her on the work out here and her success at the University.”

“You are from the University? Now you want to talk? I should toss you out.  You broke her heart and you have the chutzpah to come here? Out.. out.. we want nothing to do with you. You sucked the life out her you ghoul. What do you want ? – the body? OUT” The enraged man made to push her out the door.

Millicent resisted to push and pleaded, “Please Mr.  Weiz. I asked for the names of excellent students and she was suggested. Hear me out.”

“Suggested? Suggested for what? That place wouldn’t give her the time of day when she graduated. She was better than all those arrogant worthless bastards. “

At least she was not longer “with the University”  – that could be called progress. She also noticed that his Yiddish accent was giving way the east end patois.

“Please Mr. Weiz. I want to give her a chance. Will you let me talk with her a bit?”

Mr. Weiz looked up at the track and ball. He polished the track for a bit and then sighed heavily.

“Her Uncle taught her to read. Oh, you should have heard my father rage about that. ‘Girls do not read the Torah. They do not need to read.’ Oy, you would think he was still in the Old World. But Morris kept at it. ‘It was different here’ he said and I thought so too. I even pulled a string or two to get her into the University.  The temple even helped a bit on the bill. Each time she came back, I could tell it was tough. But she stuck it out.  Graduated with Firsts even. But no one would talk to the ‘Jewish Girl’. It’s not the Cossacks, but it tears you apart no matter. “

“What does she do now?”

“She fixes the clocks and watches. She’s a natural.” He looked at the track. “She hasn’t added anything to the track since she came back.” He sighed and polished one of the balls that ran the track. “You’ll give her a chance?”

“I’m particular. I only want the person who can do this.” Pointing around the room “But there’s a price she has to be willing to pay and I can’t make it small.”

Mr. Weiz viewed her warily. “Follow me.”  He led her though the swing doors. The back room had two work tables.  Clocks hung from the wall. Shelves filled with carefully organized gears, springs, levers of varying sizes were stacked to one side.  At one table, a woman a bit shorter than her father was leaning over a cuckoo clock.  Her long hair was braided and hung down.  She wore trousers with an apron to protect form solvents and metal shavings.  She had the same vest and sleeve protectors as her father. A magnifying lens was illuminated in some fashion and over some small pieces.  She was looking at the small pieces with a pair of jewelers glasses fit tight against her eyes.

Her father went up to her. “Rachael. There is someone here to see you.”

Rachael didn’t look up from her work. “I heard. You’ve wasted your time. I want nothing from the University.”

Millicent responded, “I am not surprised and I can’t argue with you. The creator of that room I came through deserves far more than you got. I am not from the University. I represent someone else. I may have a position for you.”

“May? Still too Jewish?”

“My client has no interest in your heritage or traditions. However, the position is long term and remote. Not everyone is interested.”

“What is the position?”

“You will be working on mechanical engineering.  Small work to start with. You’ll need to design and create devices like the clock and the dolls out there only far more complicated. “

“Why me?,” the voice sounded tired.

“Do I need to point to that track again? You demonstrated your creativity and humor when I walked through that door.  My client appreciates fun and humor.  Your projects were consistently in the top five of your class. My source says they could have been top if not for this absurd prejudice. I suspect you knew that and kept exceeding expectations just to annoy the class prigs and professors.  Am I wrong?”

Rachael didn’t say anything but carefully started assembling the clock together.

Millicent continued. “Despite your hard work and clear abilities, the second raters got the jobs.  They had the connections. They went to the right church. This world slapped you in a way that school never could. You can’t prove yourself here because you will always be held back because of who you are; because of what day of the week you worship.  Those four years of showing how good you are probably feel like a waste of time.” Millicent looked at her fingernails, “I would bet some of your classmates at University had the temerity to tell you that.  And as if that wasn’t enough, they probably told you that you will amount to nothing. You scared people Rachael. Genius frightens people.  They tend to pull it down by any means possible. I find the method you suffered particularly abhorrent. ”

Rachael’s hand shook for a second as Millicent’s merciless barrage finished. She inhaled deeply and placed the longer hand on the clock.  The light reflecting off the clock face showed hers to be damp.

Millicent said more gently, “You’ve passed all the hurdles I am going set before you. I have someone who wants the person who can make children laugh and fathers proud with a bit of clockwork. “

Rachael moved the hands and the cuckoo clock made the familiar tootle.  “I have a job here.”

Her father spoke up now. “Rachael, this is a chance your grandfather dreamed of and he never got. A place for you to succeed and be you.  You can do great things. That’s what any father wants.”

“Why would anyone pass up such an opportunity?” Rachael demanded.

“There is a personal price. The term is 10 years and the location impossibly remote.  Not everyone wants to leave everything for the unknown. There are other conditions that are difficult to explain at the moment, but they are not easy either. “

Mr. Weiz asked “What’s that mean ‘impossibly remote’?” sounding worried.

“I mean that she will have no contact with you after she leaves with me to her position.  Anyone who takes this position is leaving everything and everyone they know.”

“Like running from Cossacks,” he said sadly.

“A bit less risk, the travel is easier and she has a guaranteed job, but the analogy is apt.” Millicent paused and then addressed Rachael. “Your father has my card and my address. I will be contacting you shortly regardless. I do hope you’ll think about it. Please consider what I offer.”

Millicent left the two and made her way to the door on her own. She looked around and then opened the door and watched the ball proceed. Again the clocks cuckooed and chimed; the music box played and the ballerina danced. She stepped out into the alley way and headed back to Spring Green where she had left Mr. O’Hannigan esq. and his cab. She walked the three blocks briskly as always. O’Hannigan was waiting and he had a package of news wrap.

“’’ello Ma’am.  Interview go proper?”

“Not as well as I had hoped and better than others might expect. There are times when I find your country’s quaint prejudices quite annoying”


“Mr. O’Hannigan, your carriage is in good working order. Where do you have it serviced?”

“Henry’s place off Commercial and Cannon. He does proper work”

“If Henry employed a Jew, would you continue to go to him for work?”

“ye’ don’t know Henry too well if you ask that question”

“I know too many people like him. Answer the question.”

O’Hannigan scratched his chin. “I suppose don’t really matter as long as the job’s done right.”

“Thank you Mr. O’Hannigan. I needed to hear that from someone.  Now hand me my sausage rolls and let’s go to the O’Malley’s. ”

She ate the sausage roll in the cabin as he made his way towards “Sun Tavern Fields”. The fields were now an Airship field. Building around the fields housed various supporting businesses to service the airships. She was headed to a machine shop that worked on Airship engines. Three ships were currently tied down at the fields. All were getting more hydrogen and were surround by minions wearing static free suits. The shops were brick and provided mechanical, food and stewardship services. The O’Malleys was on the south east corner of the long fields with a sign that said “O’Malley and sons”. Three sizable engines were on the outside being serviced by two people. It was shortly after lunch and there was a collection of people gathered outside the office.

“Liam O’Hannigan. You owe me 3 bob after that game last Friday”

“Don’t make a pen and ink[3]. I’ve a bit of  dough”. O’Hannigan climbed down and opened the door.

“You all look right proper. She’s good folk.”

Millicent stepped down and the group stared for a moment.

“I am looking for John O’Malley” she said with a bit of authority.

A man a good two inches taller than her with dark brown flecked hair stepped forward.

“That’s me.”

“You were at the University last year?” she asked without incredulity.

“Oh you want Little John. He’s inside reading a book or some such. “

Millicent looked over at Mr. O’Hannigan. “I’ll step inside. You’ll be ok?”

“Oh aye. These is China[4]

“Are you Robin[5]? Won’t be a minute or two.” She asked

“It’s square. I’ll be here.”

Millicent worked her way past the crowd into the internal office.  There were papers scattered about in contrast to the neatness of Mordecai the watchmaker.  This was a messy business and the lack of order seemed to emphasize it.  One area’s exception seemed to make things look work. Near the center of the building, a large engine was hoisted with a hydraulic jack. She looked at the device for a moment.  The work area around here had the tools neatly placed and managed.  On the other side of the engine, sat a hulk of a man. He was reading the “Pensees[6]” and it was in French.

“Bonjour” Millicent greeted him in French.

“Bonjour, Madam” the hulk returned. The hint of Cockney was there, but his syllables were crisp and clean.

<How do you find Professor Pascal’s philosophical works?> she asked in French.

<It seems he was afraid of views not his own. I find that contradictory for one who is a student of philosophy. Such closed mindedness might work in the sciences or math philosophy, but should not true philosophy be an exploration?”> the hulking man responded in French as well.

<It seems you know Pascal’s science and math.> pointing to the hydraulic lift. <was that his draw for you?>

<Yes, but I have been disappoint…> the younger John was interrupted by his father’s voice booming across the building

“Oy. I’ll have none of that immigrant frog talkin’ in my shop.”

The younger and seemingly larger man sighed a bit and said quietly “Ah dear old Pater”. His  English still held the hint of the East side but was more midtown with longer syllables and fuller words.

“Your French is excellent”

“As is yours. I gather you wish to talk to me.”

“I may have a position for you. I have a client who needs a mechanical engineer in large machines. Your expertise in hydraulics would be invaluable.”

The large man looked thoughtful. He had a full head of red hair that covered his ears and hung a bit in the back of his head. He was wearing a blue long sleeve cotton shirt with narrow stripes.  His pants were a dark grey and held in place with suspenders. He was very fit and trim for a man of his size. There was no extra weight. It looked like the hydraulics might have been superfluous in a pinch. The book he was holding seemed small in his hands.

“I will resist saying yes immediately. I have some questions. Why now when I wasn’t good enough last spring?”

“I hadn’t started looking at that point for starters. While the delay was not intentional, I am finding that sometimes the wind blows away the chaff.”

“You flatter me.  Yet you carefully used the ‘may’.”

“Pending this interview. Also you may not find my conditions acceptable.”

“It is hard to imagine conditions less acceptable than this, but I will rely on your experience. How does the interview go?”

“You’re erudite and obviously found more to study than math, physics, and chemistry. I like well rounded – it’s useful.  Aside from your boorish father, why are the conditions here so deplorable? “

“Setting aside my father is not easily done. The man thinks me an investment and is wondering why it isn’t paying out. I think business was supposed to pour into the shop once it had a “University Certified” mechanic. Trying to explain I might be more interested in designing or building engines  instead of repairing them hasn’t really worked well.  If one could ignore him, I find the neighborhood…provincial. I haven’t heard a decent concert since I left University. “

“Understandable. But I will need to know you can work with others. “

“I thought I was pretty good at team work. However it seems the rest of my team seems to find jobs and there were none for me.”

“Why was that, I wonder?”

“I am sure my last name and bright red hair had nothing to do with such matters.“ Bitterness dripped from the words.

“There is a classmate of yours near here. Not the usual neighborhood for a pair. “

“Ah Rachael Weiz,  the Jewish watchmaker.”

“Tell me a bit about her. “

“Her skills are more on the small workings” he waved absently to the surroundings “I learned working with larger items. She was a hard worker. Tended to work alone. Always seemed disappointed in her performance in class.”

“Did you ever work with her?”

“I have been trying to move up. She is from around here. Working with her…didn’t seem the way to move up.”

Millicent looked at him. “Tell me. How has avoiding her worked out? Find a job?”

John showed a flash of anger as his eyes narrowed and a fist closed. “You’re talking to me here.” He looked down at the floor and then over at the jack.  “I suppose no better than if I had. I wasn’t real pleasant to her or others.”

“It appears Rachael has had no more luck in escaping the neighborhood than you.  Back to you, I can see your excellent work in the hydraulics. “ Millicent moved over to one of the jacks.” The lever and use of fluid is novel. Who did the machining?”

“I find it easier to myself.  Sometimes one encounters hurdles that couldn’t be anticipated in the planning stage. The local machinists do great work with a blueprint, but it is a rare one who can make improvements on the fly.  I suppose that is only fair. They may not know where to make improvements and they are paid to follow directions. “

“May I see some of your designs that you used to make that or something else?”

For a second John looked startled. He looked away for a second.

“Are ye sure? It’s just scribblings mostly.” Slipping back into his childhood patois.

“I want to see your ideas. I want to see what you can do.”

“It’s upstairs. Da’ doesn’t like me doing that stuff in here. Says mechanics work is real work. “

“Fetch it and I shall wait. “

The big man hurried away upstairs. Millicent wandered around a bit. Two more engines were on blocks after the work day. Tools were here and there. There was an order that probably made sense to the mechanic at that station but only looked messy to her. The room smelled slightly of oil an diesel. There were two pushable lifts near John’s station.  His station, in contrast, had tools hung on peg board or stack in drawers.

Young John returned with a fairly dogged eared ledger book that looked to be three quarters used.  He was holding it close to his chest.

“No one’s asked to see it in a long time.”

“I imagine not. The people who surround you survive because that is all they know.  You scare them because you say there is more than just surviving. But they can’t see that.  May I see your book?”

“The later pages are better.  My professor started making suggestions in places. “

She opened the volume. The book pane started with a date eight years ago.

“Who gave you this book?”

“My numbers teacher. He would see my doodles at the edge of my work and said I should start recording them. “ The transformation from arrogance to the small child was remarkable.  The first page contained a drawing of a fanciful catapult. On a page dated three years ago, she saw a design for counter spinning propellers.

“Intriguing. Did you show your professors? “

“Yes. They said it wouldn’t work. “

“And so you stopped?” she looked at him critically.

He looked sheepish.

“Another design shows an aerolifting device. The lift to be generated by the propellers.”

“I don’t know if that will work, but Leonardo did some work on it.”

The last pages looked at ways to build hydraulics rather than chains to act on levers and scoops. Far superior to the current system that used cables, chains and pulleys.  She looked at the design in the book and then at the lift.  Then looked with a question to him.

He answered the unasked question. “This is the original design. I found the piston was too small to do the lifting. I made it broader. It increased the necessary effort. Some complain my Da and I are the only ones who can work the beast. But it will lift more than anything in this shop. “

“If you started work for my client, you would need to update the final draft after you finished the prototype.  How could you fix the effort issue? “

“If I could get a smaller piston, but the metal can’t handle the weight and snaps. I suppose on the effort end, some device could be used to do the effort. That’s smaller machine work that I typically do.”

“I just left a brilliant small machinist who is currently working in a clock shop. She did some marvelous work transferring energy. However, if I told you I could obtain metal that had a much higher tensile strength than your current alloys, would that fix the problem?” she asked.

“Maybe…some metals have higher tensile strength, but machining them is a right pain.” He looked thoughtful at the possibility.

“Your interview is going quite well, by the way. There are one or two intangibles that concern me.  You make leaving sound like a light burden. Mr. O’Malley. Yet I see some of your work around the shop in the form of lifts and wenches. You have a space to read. “


“Morgaine. Millicent Morgaine. But please call me Millicent.”

“Then I shall be John. The ability to survive in this neighborhood is valued. But survival usually means physical domination. My learning here is just wasted – only survival matters. I could say it’s like the bigger piston. It’s not the best solution, but it seems to be the one that works.  At University, I got to see a life of more than just survival, but it seems like I am not allowed into that life. “

“You do have a point and I suppose you know the limits of this neighborhood.  I find the pubs lively and the jokes better on this side of the town.  You’ve carefully cultivated that accent. You read French philosophy. You are excluding yourself from your coworkers. “

“You have no right to criticize me.  You’ve never had to hide books. You’ve never been taunted in the class for being the ‘favorite’. You don’t live with a father who thinks knowing anything other than the inside of carburetor is a waste of time. “

Millicent considered him for a moment.  “All of that is true. I’ve never experienced that. I am asking a small group of people.   I suspect each person in my group is bringing his or her own burden.  None of the people I am asking are considered the ‘right people’ by some measure.  One will come from your neighborhood;  another is working on a farm. Can you work with those?  They may not speak French. They may like a bit of football at break or a round of darts at the pub. But they will be every bit as talented as you in their fields. Can you work with them?”

John let the smooth accent go for a moment. “You tain’t being fair ma’am.” And then resumed his west town accent “you ask ‘can I work with others?’  I ask ‘can I work as I was trained?’ I was trained to design, build and create.  I’ll work with whatever sod you put me next to if I get to build some of my designs. “

“John, My position has a heavy price. It is 10 years long in and extremely remote location. There will be no contact with anyone here. There are other conditions that may be not to your liking at the end.“

“I’ve no problem leaving this.”

“You better be sure, because there is no turning back.”

John took the book and shook her hand. She headed out the door. As she walked through the crowd of men and women, she bumped into the older John O’Malley.

“I don’t appreciate people who fill my boy with fancy ideas. He’s a damn fine mechanic and that’s enough. “

Millicent stared at the tall man back. “He could be a great engineer. His works could shame the charlatans who build these air bags you service. “

“The world has no use for the likes of us or him. I’ve no patience with liars.”

“And I’ve no patience with petty martinets who stifle those who choose to be more. I repeat – you son can achieve great things. Will you back him or restrain him? That is your choice.”

John O’Malley Sr. clenched and unclenched his fists.

“No one talks to me like that you west end bitch”

Millicent slapped him hard.

“Move out of my way and your son’s way you puffed up arse.”

O’Malley swung without thinking. Somehow he missed. Then his momentum seemed to carry him over her leg and he was on his back. Something sharp was poking him low.

“Enough”, a booming voice sounded out. “Millicent  – Go. I’ll take care of this”

Millicent stepped up, collapsed the switch blade, and slipped it into her skirt.

“This isn’t over bitch” O’Malley senior hissed.

“No it isn’t. Remember –you choose. Restrain him or support him.” To John junior, she shouted “You will hear from me shortly, John”

Millicent pushed her way through the crowd as O’Hannigan rushed up.

“Cor ma’am. Are you addled? I don’t take on John and his shop.”

“No. Mr. O’Hannigan. I am not addled. I am angry.  But young John will be on my team. Now it is close to luncheon and I have a stop before the hotel.  Do you know Regent’s Canal?”

“Aye ma’am. It’s a bit of a ride. “

“I need to stop at a building at Eagle Wharf Road for a bit and then onto the hotel for a luncheon. “

“As you please.”


[1] Stepney – poor section of East End London that is heavily favored by immigrants especially Ashkenazi Jews, Irish, French Heugenot in the 17 and 1800s. It was always considered poor and rough and a bit dangerous.

[2] Archimedes Screw –  consists of a screw  inside a hollow pipe. The screw is turned usually by a windmill or by manual labor.

Archimedes Screw moving object up

Archimedes Screw moving object up

[3] Pen and Ink – Stink

[4] China Plate – Mates

[5] Robin Hood – Good

[6] Philosophy book by Blaise Pascal


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2 thoughts on “Chapter 9 – The Search Begins

  1. Pingback: The Recruiting Matter: Chapter 9 – The Search Begins – a new chapter. | The Finder's Saga

  2. Pingback: The Recruiting Matter Reprise – Rachael and Millicent Meet | The Finder's Saga

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