"I found those yesterday."
Samuel felt anger rise in his chest.
"You should have told us."
"I tried."
"When?"
"Three nights ago. I came to the cabin, but you were gone."
Clara frowned.
"I was here."
Edgar stared at her.
"No. The shutters were closed, and there was no fire."
She shook her head.
"I haven't left the property in two weeks."
The old man seemed confused.
Then he looked at Samuel.
"Someone told me you'd gone down the valley."
"Who?"
Edgar hesitated.
"A young man."
Samuel leaned forward.
"What young man?"
"I didn't recognize him."
"What did he look like?"
"Thin. Dark coat. Scar across his chin."
Clara felt a sudden jolt.
A young man with a scar across his chin.
She had seen him.
Two weeks earlier.
At the general store.
He had been standing outside when she purchased flour and candles.
He asked whether Samuel still lived in the old Thorne cabin.
She had thought nothing of it.
Now she remembered the way he watched her as she loaded the wagon.
The way his eyes moved toward her wedding ring.
The way he smiled when she mentioned that Samuel was repairing the northern fence.
Clara gripped the edge of the table.
"I know him."
Samuel turned.
"Who?"
She swallowed.
"I don't know his name. But he asked about you."
Edgar slowly stood.
His face had gone gray.
"Then we need to leave."
Samuel frowned.
"Why?"
The old man looked toward the passage.
"Because if he's the man I think he is..."
He stopped.
A sharp sound echoed from somewhere deep in the tunnel.
Metal striking stone.
Once.
Twice.
Then three times.
Edgar's expression collapsed.
Samuel lifted the lantern.
"What is it?"
The old man whispered, "He's here."
Samuel extinguished the lantern.
The chamber went dark.
Clara could hear her own breathing.
Samuel moved silently toward the doorway.
Edgar remained beside the cot.
The sound came again.
This time, closer.
A slow scraping.
Followed by a dull metallic knock.
Clara remembered the noise from behind the pantry wall.
Three movements.
A pause.
Then one.
The same pattern.
She touched Samuel's arm.
He looked back.
She whispered, "That's what we heard earlier."
He nodded.
Then a young man's voice echoed through the passage.
"Mr. Vale?"
Edgar closed his eyes.
Samuel raised the poker.
The voice came again.
"I know you're down there."
A figure appeared at the far end of the tunnel.
Tall.
Lean.
Wearing a dark wool coat.
He carried an old rifle across one arm and a lantern in the other hand.
A pale scar crossed his chin.
Clara recognized him immediately.
The young man stopped at the entrance.
His eyes moved from Edgar to Samuel.
Then to Clara.
And he smiled.
"Well."
His voice was pleasant.
Almost amused.
"Looks like everybody found the family cellar."