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The Guardian’s Guidebook

Appendix E: Skeffington Papers – Edinburgh, Scotland

21 October 1810

Most Reverend Sir,

Eureka! At last, a modicum of promising news, as my descent into hell unfolded in a most peculiar and (dare I be so bold?) miraculous way.

Either good fortune or divine providence — or a healthy dollop of both — led me without incident to the very lair of MSD, which lies but a few paces from the Flodden Wall in an otherwise unremarkable corner of the graveyard. I lingered over the vault for some unspecified time, searching for God knows what, as, like your Grace, I have seen countless sketches of the stone, Which, at first glance, appears no more significant than the ground on which it sits.

As I gazed with mounting frustration, a sound or movement (perhaps the Bloody Mackenzie himself) directed my attention to a crudely drawn cross, etched roughly onto the wall behind the marker. My mind leapt immediately to vandals (a too-regular occurrence at the Kirkyard), but on closer inspection, I noted with some confusion that the ends of the crossbar were shaped, quite unmistakably, as directional arrows.

With no real hope, I followed these indicated paths precisely to their ends, and found, on both occasions, a clearly marked gravesite — one belonging to an Alexander MacDonald, d. 1793, the other to a Lady Marjorie Dee, d. 1797. A miracle? Or the fanciful ruminations of a feverish spirit?

MacDonald and Dee — Dee and Don. Suffice it to say, I was aghast. The Dee and Don rivers meet the Northern Sea in the City of Aberdeen. With your forbearance, I shall travel there at once.

Spiritedly Yours,

Ackerly Skeffington, Guardian First Class, European Guild of Guides & Spirits

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Appendix E: Skeffington Papers – Edinburgh, Scotland

20 October 1810

Most Reverend Sir,

I can scare recall a more torturous encounter — so troubling was my visit to the Covenanters’ Prison. I daresay, the very depths of hell would prove pleasantly sublime by comparison, so great was the suffering of these unfortunate souls.

Mercifully, my labours proved sufficient for a good score still possessed with the slightest measure of humanity. Countless others, I’m afraid, were beyond my faculties. My energies, thusly employed, prevented a more thorough examination of the MSG marker, and by morning’s first bell, I was forced to retreat, depleted of wit and heavy of spirit.

Once revived, I shall set forth anew. Might I respectively suggest a review by the Council’s Sub-committee on Wrongful-death and Tragic Misfortune? This abominable prison must indisputably fall within that esteemed body’s charter. If not, I myself swear an oath to return with reinforcements — charter be damned. Weary though I be, I remain —

Eternally Yours,

Ackerly Skeffington, Guardian First Class, European Guild of Guides & Spirits

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Appendix E: Skeffington Papers – Edinburgh, Scotland

19 October 1810

Most Reverend Sir,

I am pleased to report an unscathed arrival in the north, and happier still that my recent appeals have not fallen on unaffected ears. Whilst I await a ruling from the EGGS, I have chosen to linger at a most agreeable Inn near the Grassmarket Square — satisfactorily close to our spirited friends at Greyfriars, yet distant enough to ensure a relative peace.

Hovering over a meal of haggis and camembert, I cheerily remembered my Knightsbridge youth, and a gentler time when the most pressing concern involved jam o’er treacle tart. I am not ashamed to admit an earthly calling ensnared my senses, so extraordinary was the dish, so tempting the lure of that imagined aroma.

By God’s grace, my wayward spirit was rescued by the sudden appearance of a dastardly ghost by the name of William Burke, whom you may recall, was hanged by the neck just a stone’s throw away. You may be certain, this is one resurrection man who shall remain earthbound, as I personally banished Burke’s cadaver-stealing essence to the cellars.

Barring intercession, I go forth at midnight, determined to unearth — if necessary — the root cause of MSD’s untimely disappearance. Come hell or high water, I remain —

Obediently Yours,

Ackerly Skeffington, Guardian First Class, European Guild of Guides & Spirits

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Appendix E: Skeffington Papers – Barton in the Beans, UK

18 October 1810

Most Reverend Sir,

I sincerely apologize for the tardiness of this report, but rest assured — if ever you should rest — that my spirit remains vigilant, though my soul may languish. No rock — and there are countless many in the fallow fields of this charming hamlet — shall remain unturned.

Finding no favourable alternative, I deem a foray to the north a worthwhile diversion from my exile in the Beans. A return to Greyfriars Kirkyard seems in order, as our last correspondence with MSD remains forever etched within the grounds of the Covenanters’ Prison. I’ve no doubt my arrival shall be noted. Why, Bloody Mackenzie himself will surely press his entreaties, on which occasion, with Your Grace’s permission, I shall hazard to box his ears — it’s straight to the devil for Mackenzie if I have my say.

I find myself in some distress over the Council’s resolve, and feel compelled to tarry one additional earth-day before I embark. Until then, I continue to be —

Yours in Devotion,

Ackerly Skeffington, Guardian First Class, European Guild of Guides & Spirits

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The Guardian’s Guidebook

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Appendix E: Skeffington Papers – Barton in the Beans, UK

15 October 1810

Most Reverend Sir,

While I am forever at your service, and shall, as in all matters, dutifully and willingly yield to what is unquestionably an ineffable calling, I must again urge most pressingly to reconsider this posting so far removed from the fervent issues of our day.

After a cursory pass through the public house in the village proper, I have found neither a Barton nor a Bean, nor certainly the whisper of a Drake. I did find myself availed of a most wretched soul, bound, it seemed, to the mortal coils of a tankard. The poor man has now mercifully crossed, and for that, if nothing else, my presence here was heavenly sent.

But for this blessed passing, I fear our labours ill-used in this endeavor, and suspect the veracity of any intelligence leading the Council to such erroneous conclusions. I anxiously await reply at your earliest convenience. In the interim, I continue to soldier on. Never doubt that I remain —

Faithfully Yours,

Ackerly Skeffington, Guardian First Class, European Guild of Guides & Spirits