Next to Ronald’s grave was Rebecca Stewart’s. Her stone described her as Ronald’s wife.

“I guess he got remarried,” Kim said.

“Is Elizabeth buried in here?” Edward asked.

“I don’t know,” Kim said. “No one ever pointed out her grave to me.”

“Are you sure this Elizabeth even existed?” Edward asked.

“I think so,” Kim said. “But I can’t swear to it.”

“Let’s see if we can find her,” Edward suggested. “She’d have to be in this general area.”

For a few minutes they searched in silence, Kim going one way, Edward another.

“Edward!” Kim called.

“Did you find her?” Edward asked.

“Well, sort of,” Kim said.

Edward joined her. She was looking at a headstone similar in design to Ronald’s. It belonged to Jonathan Stewart, who was described as the son of Ronald and Elizabeth Stewart.

“At least we know she existed,” Kim said.

They searched for another half hour but didn’t find Elizabeth’s grave. Finally they gave up and went back to the car. A few minutes later they pulled up in front of the old house. They both got out.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it looked like the Witch House,” Edward said. “It’s got the same massive central chimney, the same steeply pitched gable roof, the same clapboard siding, and the same diamond-shaped panes of glass. And most curious, there is the same protrusion of the second story over the first. I wonder why they did that.”

“I don’t think anyone knows for certain,” Kim said. “The Ward House at the Peabody-Essex Institute has the same feature.”

“The pendants under the overhang are much more decorative than those at the Witch House,” Edward said.

“Whoever turned those had quite a flair,” Kim agreed.

“It’s a charming house,” Edward said. “It has so much more class than the castle.”

Slowly they strolled around the aged building, pointing out its details. In the back Edward noticed a freestanding, smaller structure. He asked if it were equally as old.

“I believe so,” Kim said. “I was told it was for the animals.”

“A mini-barn,” Edward said.

Returning to the front door, Kim had to try multiple keys before she found one that unlocked the door. As she pushed it open it creaked just like the outer gate to the compound.

“Sounds like a haunted house,” Edward said.

“Don’t say that,” Kim protested.

“Don’t tell me you believe in ghosts?” Edward said.

“Let’s just say I respect them,” Kim said with a laugh. “So you go first.”

Edward stepped through the door into a small front hall. Directly ahead was a flight of stairs that twisted up out of sight. On either side were doors. The door on the right led into the kitchen, the one on the left to the parlor.

“Where to first?” Edward asked.

“You’re the guest,” Kim said.

“Let’s check out the parlor,” Edward said.

The room was dominated by a huge fireplace six feet wide. Sprinkled about the room was some colonial furniture as well as lawn tools and other paraphernalia. The most interesting piece of furniture was a canopied bed. It still had some of its original crewelwork bed hangings.

Edward walked over to the fireplace and glanced up the flue. “Still in working order,” he said. Then he looked at the wall above the mantel. Stepping back, he looked at it again.

“Can you see that faint rectangle?” he said.

Kim joined him in the middle of the room and peered at the wall. “I see it,” she said. “Looks like a painting used to hang there.”

“My thought exactly,” Edward said. Wetting the tip of his finger, he tried to smudge the outline. He couldn’t. “It must have hung there a good many years for the smoke to outline it like that.”

Leaving the parlor, they mounted the stairs. At the head of the stairs was a small study built over the front hall. Above the parlor and the kitchen were bedrooms, each with its own fireplace. The only furniture was a few more beds and a spinning wheel.

Returning to the kitchen on the first floor, Kim and Edward were both struck with the size of the fireplace. Edward guessed it was almost ten feet across. To the left was a lug pole, to the right a beehive oven. There were even some old pots, fry pans, and kettles.

“Can you imagine cooking here?” Edward asked.

“Not in a million years,” Kim said. “I have enough trouble in a modern kitchen.”

“The colonial women must have been experts at tending a fire,” Edward said. He peered into the oven. “I wonder how they estimated the temperature. It’s fairly critical in bread making.”

They passed through a door into the lean-to part of the house. Edward was surprised to find a second kitchen.

“I think they used this during the summer,” Kim said. “It would have been too hot to fire up that massive fireplace for cooking during warm weather.”

“Good point,” Edward said.

Returning to the main part of the house, Edward stood in the center of the kitchen, chewing on his lower lip. Kim eyed him. She could tell he was thinking about something.

“What’s going through your mind?” she asked.

“Have you ever thought about living here?” he questioned.

“No, I can’t say I have,” Kim said. “It would be like camping out.”

“I don’t mean to live here the way it is,” Edward said. “But it wouldn’t take much to change it.”

“You mean renovate it?” Kim questioned. “It would be a shame to destroy its historical value.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Edward said. “But you wouldn’t have to. You could make a modern kitchen and bath in the lean-to portion of the house, which was an add-on anyway. You wouldn’t have to disturb the integrity of the main part.”

“You really think so?” Kim said. She looked around. There was no doubt it was a charming building, and it would be a fun challenge to decorate it.

“Besides,” Edward said, “you’ve got to move out of your present apartment. It’s a shame to leave this whole place vacant. Sooner or later the vandals will get in here and possibly do some real damage.”

Kim and Edward made another walk through the building with the idea in mind of making it habitable. Edward was progressively enthusiastic, and Kim found herself warming to the idea.

“What an opportunity to connect with your heritage,” Edward said. “I’d do it in a flash.”

“I’ll sleep on it,” Kim said finally. “It is an intriguing idea, but I’d have to run it by my brother. After all, we are co-owners.”

“There’s one thing about this place that confuses me,” Edward said as he glanced around the kitchen for the third time. “I wonder where they stored their food.”

“I imagine in the cellar,” Kim said.

“I didn’t think there was one,” Edward said. “I specifically looked for an entrance when we walked around the house when we first arrived, but there wasn’t any. Nor are there any stairs leading down.”

Kim stepped around the long trestle table and pulled aside a heavily worn sisal mat. “There’s access through this trapdoor,” she said. She bent down and put her finger through a hole in the floor and pulled the trapdoor open. She laid it back on the floor. A ladder led down into the darkness.

“I remember this all too well,” Kim said. “Once, when we were kids, my brother threatened to close me in the cellar. He’d been enchanted with the trapdoor.”

“Nice brother,” Edward said. “No wonder you had a fear of being cooped up. That would have terrified anyone.”

Edward bent down and tried to look around the cellar, but he could only see a small area.

“He had no intention of actually doing it,” Kim said. “He was just teasing. We weren’t supposed to be in here at the time, and he knew I was already scared. You know how kids like to scare each other.”

“I’ve got a flashlight in the car,” Edward said. “I’ll run out and get it.”

Returning with the light, Edward descended the ladder. Gaining the floor, he looked up at Kim and asked her if she was coming down.