10
I pushed back my urge to be a twenty-first-century hermit who occasionally partook in international travel and paced behind Stovall as he wound his way through Edinburgh’s Old Town. When he took one last left into a narrow alley, I felt my pulse quicken. This had to be one of the oldest streets in the city, and I was dying to slow down and look around.
Stovall, however, didn’t slow his pace until he reached an arched doorway in the right-hand wall of a three-story stone building. There, he knocked, grabbed the iron handle, and pushed open the door.
I was the last of our group, so it took me a few moments to reach the door, but when I did, I gasped. It was like walking into an apothecary’s shop from the eighteenth century. The walls were lined with shelves made of dark wood, and each
