STEALTH & SECRETS
A WALK INTO THE GARDEN
SOIREE` AT THE PACA HOUSE & GARDENS
After they had walked by a tall holly tree and around a row of nut trees, the pair sat down on a conveniently placed bench under the big oak.
“I think you lost your hat on a tree limb.”
Jack felt the top of his head, then looked about. “Ah. So, I did. I’ll get it in a bit.”
“My, my,” Penny smiled mischievously. “What should we do now?”
His cheeks flushed.
She snapped her fingers. “I know! Let’s play a game.”
He relaxed a bit. “What game?”
“It’s called ‘I tell you. You tell me’.” She turned a little in her seat and leaned her back against the arm of the bench. “I’ll go first.” She studied him for a moment. “My favorite book is Lady of the Lake.”
“Sir Walter Scott?”
“Why, yes!” Her smile widened. “I adore tales of chivalry and adventure. That it’s a poem makes it seem romantic.”
She cocked her head playfully. “Your turn.”
“Mine is Robinson Crusoe.”
“Daniel Defoe?”
“Yes, that’s it.” He studied her for a moment. “I like adventure too. But maybe a little more exotic and a little further away.”
“I can see why that would capture your imagination, with you serving on a frigate and all.”
She patted his hand and leaned back a little. “Your turn.”
“Alright,” Jack inched a little closer to her.
“I like what I’m doing. Between the Commodore, the officers, the crew, and my duties, I am always learning something new. That helps me gain more responsibility. And it keeps going that way.”
Penny smiled and patted his hand again. But this time, let hers rest on him. “You’re lucky to be serving with Commodore Rodgers. I’ve heard so many good things about him. They say he is the very best at finding and training young officers.”
Jack fought the sudden urge to pull his hand away and willed it to stay right where it was. “Yes. I know I am very lucky.”
His eyes lingered on hers. “I count my blessings every day.”
“That’s very good to hear.” She traced circles with her finger along the back of his hand. “I guess it’s my turn again.”
He could feel his face warm a little. “I believe it is, Miss Rollings.”
“Well, Mister Pyle.” She pulled her hand back and clasped her other as her eyes challenged his. “I want to attend St. John’s.”
He quickly snuffed out his surprise. “Good for you! That’s exceptional, Penny. Goals are important. I want to command a ship someday.”
Her eyes fluttered. She straightened a bit. After a moment, her warm smile returned. “You surprised me, Jack.”
“I did?”
“Yes.” She giggled. “There’s a first time for everything.”
“How? Why?”
“Because, Mister Pyle.” She leaned in a little closer, once again placing her hand on his. “It is against social expectations for women to attend college or anything but a school for girls of status. So, it was a pleasant surprise when . . . you . . .” She shook her head slowly. “No. Come to think of it, I expected that answer from you.”
“Now, I’m confused.”
“As a gentleman usually is when in the company of a lady.”
The distinct voice quite startled them both. Penny snatched her hand back, and Jack nearly fell off the bench when they realized who was addressing them.
“Mister Carroll!”
The elder man took a quick look around, then put a finger to his lips and winked. “Miss Rollings. It took effort and more than a little stealth to make my way in here without detection.”
Penny took a quick look around herself. “Please forgive me, Mister Carroll.”
“Nothing to forgive, dear lady. I would have need of your forgiveness. As obviously, I’ve interrupted a discreet and, I dare say, a fruitful conversation.”
“Maybe we should deem it a fair exchange?”
He bowed deeply. “Done, my lady. Done.” The elder man smiled and stood upright. “It is a genuine gift of Providence to encounter such a compatible young couple in this garden of great beauty and bold ideas.”
Penny looked at Jack, and Jack looked at Penny. Then both looked at Carroll. Penny locked her arm around Jack’s. “This day has already brought many blessings to both of us.”
After a quick breath and a moment’s deliberation, Jack spoke. “Aye, sir. I agree with Penny.” He shifted his cane to his left hand and extended his right to the famous patriot. “You truly blessed both of us today.”
Charles Carroll grasped the offered hand. “Hmmmm, I fear your generation is not as blessed as you may think.” The older man paused, stroked his chin, peered toward the back of the garden, then studied each of the youthful faces in front of him. “Pray, Mister Pyle, how proficient are you in the clandestine arts? You, Miss Rollings?”
Jack and Penny looked quizzically at each other, to the elder gentleman, and shrugged.
“Harumpf. No matter.” Carroll pursed his lips and once again raised a finger, his voice at a whisper. “Follow me and be as quiet as possible.”
Ominous notes of a soft section of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor wafted through the Paca gardens.
The old patriot raised an ear toward the music. “Hmmm. Appropriate and timely for our mission. Remind me to write the concertmaster a letter of gratitude.”
Penny immediately set out to follow him. She reached for Jack’s hand, but he hesitated. Frowning, she kept her voice low. “Mister Carroll is a walking chronicle of our times. I mean to take his words to heart and follow his direction.” She took a step and froze. “You should too.”
“You’re right.” He took her hand in his. But what does he have up his sleeve? I know he is a complicated man. But heavens!
With Carroll in the lead, the trio quietly made their way to the outer wall of the gardens. The old patriot motioned them to follow him between it and a row of fruit trees toward the rear wall. The branches hung low enough to shield them from the view of the party attendees until they came to open ground between the trio and the door of the odd hexagonal building.
This unique structure was two stories tall and topped by a hexagonal dome rounded at the very top. Each story had a set of matching and equidistant windows. A rather plain door was in the center of the ground-level section. And its diameter seemed just wide enough to house a single table and set of chairs.
Carroll noticed a group of dark-skinned gardeners pruning one of the holly trees. To Jack and Penny, he whispered. “Do either of you possess the ability to hoot like an owl?”
Jack shrugged and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hoot.”
Penny’s eyes watered as she bit her tongue.
Carroll shook his head slowly. “I anticipated something less strangled and of a more unforced nature. But the music may have aided in achieving the desired effect.”
It quite surprised the gardeners when they recognized the old patriot. But curiosity, respect, and fear led them to approach. Carroll took quick advantage of the moment of surprise and whispered in the ear of the closest one. The gardener nodded, and the entire crew began work on the flower beds a few yards in front of the door.
Carroll waited for the gardeners to busy themselves, then motioned Jack and Penny to follow as he led them around to the back of the building. They shuffled around a cedar hedge, taller than they were, into a small open space. The old patriot pointed to two rhododendron bushes and a large bundle of black-eyed Susans in between. His finger lingered for a few moments on each.
Penny’s eyes brightened. Each of the bushes had blooms of a different color. One held red blossoms. One held white ones. And of course, the black-eyed Susans were black and yellow blossoms. She nodded to Carroll and then to Jack, whose eyes also brightened.
Carroll now motioned for the pair to stand back a little. He gestured to the grass beneath their feet and then silently pulled back a few branches of one bush and pointed to the grass on the other side. Jack smiled and nodded right away. They were obviously two types of grass.
The patriot reached under the black-eyed Susans, carefully removed a small, rusted trowel and handed it to Jack. He then stood straight with his back to the yellow blossoms. Measured out two lengths of his foot, pivoted completely around, and ran a toe across an imaginary line. He motioned to Jack to put the edge of the trowel against it.
Jack complied. He put the point of the trowel against the ground just in front of Mr. Carroll’s toes. With a slight press of the trowel, Jack felt something give. Carroll stepped back toward the rhododendron bush. There was a barely audible click. Jack removed the trowel. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.
A section of sod silently raised up, revealing a ladder descending into a stone-lined room of some sort. Carroll put his finger to his lips again and went down the ladder. When the patriot reached the bottom, he located a lantern, lit it, and hung it on a nearby peg.
Penny was the next one down. As she stepped off the last rung, she heard her dress tear. She slapped her hand to her mouth to stifle a frustrated squeal. A month’s worth of tips!
Jack handed his cane to Penny, then quickly followed, closing the secret door above him. On his way down the ladder, the musical and floral symphonies of the gardens faded in favor of a cacophony of pungent, earthy mildew and the echoes of their voices.
Carroll ran his hand up and down the right side of what appeared to be a solid wall. His fingers finally stopped at about waist-high and pressed. A tiny door popped open on the left side of the wall. He pulled the lantern off the peg and gave it to Jack to hold level. The old patriot drew a black iron key, shaped like an acorn, from his pocket, inserted it into the lock, and gave it a twist.
With a deep low “pop”, the entire section of the wall opened up and revealed another stone-lined room. Several small oaken casks sat against one side of the room. Across from them was a set of shelves that held books, lockboxes, and more lanterns. There was also a ladder up to another trapdoor. A robust mixture of smoke, charred wood, and a spicy sweetness hovered in the air.
Penny wrinkled her nose. “It smells like the liquor storeroom of our tavern, the one next to the privy.”
