47 Sorrows. Janet Kellough
starved.”
The lawyer grunted, but remonstrated no further. The woman glared at him, and pulled herself as far into the corner as she could.
Chapter 4
After an overnight stop in the town of Norval, where Luke spent an uncomfortable night in the open woodshed behind the stagecoach inn, he and his travelling companions finally reached Toronto. Luke located the wharves without difficulty; most of the traffic in the city was headed either to or away from the waterfront. A burly man waiting with a wagonload of tanned hides directed him to a wooden building where he was told he could arrange for his steamer passage, but the agent who manned it was flustered and abrupt, and after he had sold Luke his ticket, he went rushing out the door.
Luke followed him down toward the water. There were numerous wharves along the front, protected by the long arching peninsula of land that kept the swells and winds of Lake Ontario from reaching ships anchored in the harbour. Each of these wharves was bustling with arrivals or departures or transfer of goods. He watched for a time before he realized that there were three hours yet before his own vessel was due to leave, and now that he had his ticket in hand, he was free to explore at least a portion of the city.
It was by far the largest he had ever seen, and as he walked along the margins of the lake, he marvelled at the number of three- and even four-storey buildings of solid brick and stone beyond the jumble of wooden sheds and storehouses. As he turned to look north, he could see church spires thrusting skyward through a dense cluster of commercial buildings, manufactories, offices, and houses.
He wandered along the lakefront, unwilling to stray too far lest he become lost. As long as he could see the lake, he decided, he would know where he was. Farther along the shore there were more wharves, and as he walked a sailing steamer chugged into one of these and tied up.
Luke was a little taken aback when he saw the number of passengers that had been crammed onto the deck of this ship. He had been looking forward to his voyage down the lake. He had never ridden on one of these steamers before. Now he wondered if he had made a mistake and should have gone by coach instead, for this steamer carried far more bodies than he expected and it looked as though each was allotted little more than a couple of square feet.
As he drew closer, he was appalled at the state of these bodies, as well. Many of them were dressed in rags, and all of their faces were thin and pinched, their arms bony, their eyes glazed, but whether with exhaustion or hunger or disease, he had no way of telling. They must be emigrants, he realized, ferried up the lake to look for work, like the haggard groups he had seen on the Guelph Road.
A man in uniform boarded the vessel, evidently to direct the disembarkation of the passengers. Only a few at a time were allowed onto the pier, and these were shepherded to an area that had been cordoned off.
They stood, confused and blinking, while a fussy-looking man with a bushy moustache bustled over to the group and, assisted by a woman in a nurse’s uniform, began peering into their eyes and feeling their foreheads, directing them to open their mouths wide as he looked for evidence of disease. When he had finished, he would send each person to either the right or the left, depending on what he felt about their condition. Judging from the cries that greeted each culling, husbands were being separated from wives, fathers from sons, mothers from daughters.
Several of the women were waiting with ragged bundles in their arms, and it was only when one of these began to wail that Luke realized they were carrying infants. The women were required to unwrap the bundles for inspection. When Luke saw how small some of the babies were, he realized that they must have been born during the long journey across the ocean, or after their mothers had arrived in Canada. He didn’t give much odds for their survival under the circumstances.
The group that had been shuffled to the doctor’s right were herded away and loaded into carts. The wailing increased as the carts drove away.
“Now, now, there’s no need to carry on like that,” one of the uniformed men said. “They’re being taken to hospital where they’ll be looked after. If you’ve friends or family in Toronto that you can go to, you’re free to leave now. The rest of you will be fed directly and you can stay in the city for twenty-four hours. After that, you’ll have to move on to another port.”
Here and there groups of people detached themselves from the crowd and began to walk north along Simcoe Street.
Those who were left muttered their disapproval, but there appeared to be little real resistance to the directive. Constables walked up and down on the periphery of the mob, truncheons in hand, and this was enough to quell any protest.
Then Luke saw another man in uniform, although he didn’t appear to be a constable, begin zigzagging though the crowd. Twice Luke saw him stop to speak to someone, and then he emerged with two young women in tow. He led them down a side street, little more than an alley, really. Curious, Luke followed them.
Tucked around a corner, where the alley intersected another street, a wagon was waiting. At first, Luke thought that a monkey had been given the task of holding the reins, but then he realized that the driver was a remarkably odd-looking man. He was very short and slight, with a great deal of coarse black hair and low-set pointed ears that framed a peculiarly wrinkled face.
The officer directed the women to board the wagon. “I’ve two more for you, Flea,” he said to the waiting driver. “Go on then.” He gave one of the women a little push toward the wagon. “You’ll be looked after.”
Luke was so bemused by the novelty of the man’s name and appearance that he watched the scene for a minute or so before it occurred to him to wonder what was going on. It was possible, he supposed, that some benevolent organization, perhaps one of the churches, had organized some sort of relief system for young emigrant women separated from their families. Or maybe employment had been arranged for them at a factory or in domestic service. He hoped that this was the case, but the fact that the wagon had been waiting around the corner, hidden almost, lent a sinister air to the scene.
“Hans says he’s a little short this week, but he’ll make it up to you next,” said the man called Flea. And he handed a package to the officer.
“Tell him he’d better. One more short week and the arrangement is off.”
“Come on now, Badger, and who would you be dealing with if you don’t deal with Hans?” Flea replied. “Ye’ll take what he gives you.”
“Irish bastard,” the officer muttered under his breath, but he turned away as he said it. It was then that he noticed Luke. “And what do you want?” He pulled a truncheon from a loop at his waist and held it at the ready.
Luke had been curious, that was all, but realized that an excuse for his presence might be a provident thing to provide. He seized upon the first thing that occurred to him.
“I’m looking for someone,” he said. “I just wondered if any of these young ladies might know him.” He turned to the women sitting sullenly in the wagon. “Do you know anyone named Charley Gallagher?”
At the mention of the name, the man called Flea spat and fixed him with a glare.
“What do you want with Gallagher?” he asked.
Luke shrugged. “I don’t want anything with him. I was just asked to make inquiries about him. Apparently he was expected some time ago by a neighbour of mine.”
Flea’s eyes narrowed. “And where does this neighbour of yours live?”
“A long way from here,” Luke said. “You won’t ever have heard of it.”
He could see that the officer was puzzled by this exchange. Whatever the name Gallagher meant to Flea, it was apparently nothing to do with the man called Badger. “You’ll have to move along,” he said. “There’s no loitering here.”
Luke hesitated. Should he demand an explanation of what was going on? He had no real objection to make — only an uneasy feeling that the driver looked suspicious and that the women were vulnerable. Besides,