Chapter Text
To Robert Walton, England
York, October 12, 18—
My dear brother,
You will rejoice to hear that I have not only set aside my reluctance concerning exploration of our magnificent globe, but I have decided to undertake a voyage of my own. It is my sincere hope that you will not experience the same “evil forebodings” that once agitated me. Indeed, I wish to embark with all the goodwill a brother can give, thus filling my sails with hope so that they might speed me toward my goal.
This news must come as a shock to you. Excuse my hasty decision; I wish I had time to gain your advice along with your blessing, since you are better acquainted with the world than I am, but this task will not let me alone. The muse that spurred you on all those years ago has at last visited me. I am swept away by my vigor and determination!
Undoubtedly you are wondering how this change has worked upon me in such a short time. Perhaps you are saying to yourself, “Could that be my Margaret, taking to the roads and seaways so? My Margaret, gallivanting about like a character in a novel? My Margaret, whose only dream had ever been marriage and motherhood?” Yes, it is me, and I assure you that I am in my right mind. The excitement with which you communicated your own story has at last struck me to the heart with an insatiable desire to face all danger for the sake of discovery. My adventurous spirit, though long dormant, was fed with the same wonderful tales that nursed your own; now that a friend has invited me to travel with her, it has been given a chance to awaken, and breathe, and find that it is strong and eager to run.
I leave for London in three days, where I shall meet my friend. I would write more, but time is short, and I must pack my things and arrange the house. George will stay behind and manage the staff; as the children are still away at school, his burden will be light. With a cook and a maid at his disposal, I am confident he will survive my absence.
I shall write again when I can. I am aware of the dangers presented by the current naval conflict, but my route to Christiania goes by way of Copenhagen, and I shall not change it. Two English travelers will turn no heads. I beg you not to worry about me.
Your affectionate sister,
Margaret Saville