Journal Entry 43 - August 27th, 1850
I know not what to write, for Samuel's tale is too unbelievable. Yet when I contemplate my own peculiar impressions felt during the occupation nearly three years ago, I cannot help but feel that there is some truth to his story. He claims there is a tomb called the ‘Cromwell Crypt’ somewhere hidden in the valley. According to his own words, the mausoleum harbors something more than simply the dead. Yet he would not explain who was threatening his life. He wanted me to walk with him there tonight. I am unable to tell whether Samuel is lying or being sincere. He spoke as if he were desperate, fearful, and frenzied—and he looks as though he has had little sleep. Reluctantly, I feel that I must follow him there to see for myself.
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