By the time Mr. Sillow had crossed over into Boston, Amanda was still catching up on the sleep she had missed out on the previous night, allowing him to place all of his attention on locating one of the vital contacts he had drawn out of Mrs. Marshall without being distracted by his inquisitive passenger’s onslaught of questions about the foreign territory they had just entered. The directions he had obtained from Mrs. Marshall were as simple as they could get for an individual who had never before ventured beyond Yarmouth’s border. All he had to do was take the first right turn off of the road that he had ventured into Boston by and continue riding straight down until he would have arrived at a three-storey auberge on the right-hand side of the street. Although Mrs. Marshall had a significant number of contacts established across Boston’s four cardinal and ordinal points, Mr. Sillow had made sure to only take down the information of her fellow miscreants operating out of the city’s southern region. For one, this strategy would save him a lot of time and energy when it came down to locating these individuals. And secondly, if he was to ever come under any heat from authorities, his proximity to the familiar turf of Yarmouth would greatly increase his chances of escaping their efforts to seize him. In a worst-case scenario, he had predetermined that he would leave Amanda behind in Boston if he had to in order to save himself. Even though his love for her seemed to be genuine, when it all boiled down to it, Mr. Sillow concluded that life was really all about self-preservation.
Despite his reserved nature, Mr. Sillow was a very proud man. As he travelled through Boston in the one-of-a-kind, eye-catching carriage, he did so with the privacy panels drawn fully open and with his head held high. He was thoroughly enjoying the multitude of attention being paid to him, even if that attention was coming from the agglomeration of impecunious illegal immigrants who made up much of the region’s population. The excited chatter taking place outside on the streets eventually wound up stirring Amanda out of her sleep.
“Have we arrived in Boston as yet, Fred?” she asked groggily from the carraige’s backseat while rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palms. But Mr. Sillow was so enthralled by the overwhelming amount of adoration being showered upon him that he didn’t even hear her question. Sitting up and leaning in close to his ear, she asked her question again with a little more volume to her voice this time.
And just like that, Mr. Sillow’s pompous entrance into the city turned into a very mortifying moment for him. At that point and time, his world stopped. It was as though everything taking place around him ceased to exist anymore and all he could hear was Amanda’s question reechoing inside of his head. How could he have been so careless to have forgotten that he wasn’t alone inside of the carriage? “Amanda!” he said startlingly. “Lie back down! Yes, this is Boston, and it really isn’t safe here! You must lie back down!” His fret was easily channeled into her, and she dropped back out of sight immediately. Mr. Sillow’s heart was thumping at a rate of a million and one beats per minute as he began frantically cutting off the public’s view into the carriage. But were his efforts too late? What if somebody had spotted the young girl? Was it still safe to carry out what he had come to Boston to do? He couldn’t help but think that he had ruined his last shot at survival due to his selfish desire to be glorified. The fact that it was evening time, however, helped to subdue his mental anguish. She just may have gone unnoticed, camouflaged in the shadow of the carriage’s light-deprived rear compartment. But one close call was one too many. He decided that he wouldn’t let his guard down again at any other point during his stint in the city. If he was to succeed at what he had set out to do, he would have to treat Boston as if it were Yarmouth and remain as inconspicuous as possible. Besides, he had come much too far to concede to failure.
At present, he was parked outside of the establishment Mrs. Marshall had given him the directions to. By now the crowd that had regally welcomed him into the state had dispersed; but out of precaution, Mr. Sillow waited patiently inside of the carriage to ensure that he hadn’t been followed by anybody who may have found his actions earlier to be worthy of an inquisition. In the interim, he had selected an outfit - minus the undergarment - out of Amanda’s bag for her to throw on. “You’re beautiful, darling,” he said to her with a smile. He could see everything beneath the short dress he had picked out for her to wear as she sat with her legs uncrossed in the backseat of the carriage. “I’m just going to step inside of this building really briefly. Sit tight until I get back.”
He returned nearly an hour later with a man who made a curt inspection of Amanda before retiring back into the auberge with Mr. Sillow following closely on his heels, apparently trying to plead some kind of case to him. After almost another hour had gone by, Mr. Sillow returned outside to the carriage alone, ordered Amanda to get out, and hastily ushered her into the auberge. Once inside, he lifted her up into his arms, passed through a door situated behind the front desk counter, and began descending carefully down the short, downward-angled stair treads that led into the basement of the building. There, the gentleman who had quickly glanced over Amanda earlier in the evening was waiting for them. Handing Mr. Sillow a key, the man said to him in a heavy Sicilian accent: “Go. I’ll take care of the girl from here. Your room is on the third floor as you requested.” With that said, Amanda wouldn’t see Mr. Sillow again until the following week.