Chapter 15: Correspondence, Part 2

If Maevis didn't know Serendipity as well as she did, she might've allowed herself to become offended at the dismissive statement. But she knew better than to let Serendipity's poor manners insult her. The possibility of pressing on anyway crossed her mind, and Maevis opened her mouth to ask another question, but then he closed it abruptly when she realized that Serendipity was done with the conversation before it even began. Giving up, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, picked up the basket she had brought with her off of the table, and turned to the door. As she pulled it open, she said, "You should have told me." There was no answer.?"Be careful," she added as she stepped out, pulling the door to behind her.?

As she made her way down off of the rickety front steps, she noticed the same footprints in the mud outside.?How had she missed them before? There were two matching sets. One that distinctly led up to the door and the other away.

Through a light misty rain, Maevis followed them around to the side of the cottage, over to a small copse of trees. There, she saw what she could only assume were hoof prints which appeared in the mud a few feet from the trees with absolutely no trail leading up to them. While there were a few steps leading out of the way of the low hanging branches, they disappeared again only a few yards away as if whatever animals had left them had both appeared and then exited with only a few footfalls.?She was quite astonished at the discovery but knew it would be pointless to go back in and speak to Serendipity about it now. Perhaps she would mention it in the morning when she returned, if her ward seemed any more inclined to speak. In the meantime, she needed to hurry back to Marwolaeth as there was plenty of work to do and only two sets of hands with which to do it.

Once she was sure Maevis had stepped away from the rickety front porch, Serendipity took her advice and crossed over to the door, dropping the lock in place. If Mr. Cane was to return, he would find a doll maker far less inclined to let him in than the one he had met previously. Without another thought, she returned to the doll she was working on, wondering only briefly what she had done to offend her dear Pozzletot.

Much later, perhaps late in the evening (or was it early the next morning?) there was another clatter at the fireplace. Serendipity turned her weary head to look in the direction of the noise only to discover a second letter dancing in the flames. She couldn't help but let a small curse word escaped her lips, knowing whatever words this correspondence contained it would not be welcome. Perhaps Mr. Cane would insist on another meeting. Perhaps he was announcing he would soon return to Dunsford to see her again. Whatever it was, she chose not to address it just then and continued to work on the dress she was sewing. She fully expected the appearance to draw forth her good friend from his hiding place, and while there had been several other mice squeaking about all day, even this newest commotion did not bring out Pozzletot, which Serendipity found rather odd; he was always so curious about such things. The other mice seemed alarmed, and she wondered if they were not trying to tell her something. Since she was not fluent in any of their languages--only Pozzletot's expressive form of communication--she ignored them as well, and turned her full attention to the gown. Reading was too difficult, and it was the last thing she wanted to do on a night--or was it morning--such as this.

Hours later, when the dress was completed and she could tell by the small sliver of light creeping through the curtains that it was daylight once again, she realized Maevis would likely be returning soon. If she didn't dispose of the letter before her friend arrived, she would certainly read it and might find out that Mr. Cane had been a bit more persistent than she had initially let on, though once he left he had done so obligingly.?

With a great sigh, Serendipity stepped over to the fireplace, and using the poker, she knocked the letter from the flames, bending to retrieve it off of the floor. Her name was written in his familiar handwriting on the outside of the envelope in the same gold ink, and shaking her head in annoyance, she used her spindly finger to rip the envelope open.

My Dearest Ms. Fizzlestitch,

Again, this part was easy.

Ia mafraib somet hinq unexq ecbeb haqqenb when Ileft yourresbenc ear lier to bay. It see ms on off you r mose fri enbs snus kintoe my posket. If you wolb lik from me to retoon him, ple ase droq me a lin.

Sincerely,

Cornelius Cane

Serendipity was quite puzzled. Very little of the letter made any sense to her at all. She simply could not decipher what Mr. Cane was trying to tell her. It didn't seem as if he were asking her to return to the North Pole with him again. She read the words again and again, trying different sounds for the vowels, a strategy both her father and Maevis had taught her, but nothing seemed to make any sense. She crossed over to her table where the lamp sat, lit it, and took a seat in her chair, hoping the stronger light might help her a bit.?Just then, she heard a loud squeaking sound from atop the table, and she turned her attention that direction, hoping it was Pozzletot come to help her. Instead, she found another mouse, Gypsim, and she seemed to be trying her hardest to tell Serendipity something. While Serendipity was disappointed that Pozzletot was still being standoffish, she focused on what Gypsim was trying to convey.