After trudging through St. James Park, they safely made it to the hotel. Too exhausted to care, they marched in, got their key and went directly upstairs.
Tom tapped on the professor’s door, hoping against hope that he was in. There was no answer.
“Maybe he’ll be here tomorrow,” suggested Sarah, her tone encouraging yet mixed with doubt.
“He better be.”
* * * *
After finishing breakfast, Tom and Sarah decided to wait for Hainsworth. They wandered down to the lobby and asked Brandon if he had heard from the professor or received any messages. He said no. Brandon realized there must be something going on, but his loyalty to Hainsworth was unwavering: An Oxford creed practiced among the graduates.
Tom and Sarah stayed in their room for another hour but began to lose hope. They both felt it was only a matter of time before someone found them at the hotel, and it was too risky to stay in the city any longer. Although London had always been their main objective, things had drastically changed over the last few days.
“We can’t wait here forever,” said Sarah apprehensively, staring out the window.
“What do you think the professor would want us to do?” asked Tom, pondering the question himself.
She thought for a moment. “Probably continue on. He’s helped us this far. We can make it on our own the rest of the way.”
“You mean to Canterbury?”
“But aren’t you worried . . . or even scared?”
“Of course I am,” she replied in a serious tone. “But we’ve managed on our own before, and we’re still together.”
Tom smiled, amazed at her resolve. “Okay, how do we get there?”
* * * *