The Adventures of the Crimson Blade 6

Pittsburgh Village, Late January 1775

Elizabeth stormed out of the Seldon Sentry Bank, Scott and Mackie close on her heels. “I can't believe Pruitt wants to sell the Inn! Probably to one of those larger places just outside of town.”

Scott looked back at the door. “That Sentry's as bad as Pruitt, and just as much of a snob. There's no reasoning with him.”

Mackie's fists were clenched. “I'd like to punch that guy in the nose. When they made him, they threw away the mold. And the mildew, and the dry rot! He's the third worst human being in the colonies!”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Who's the worst?”

Mr. Eldridge came over to them with a newspaper. He looked as agitated as he ever got. “Mistress Roberts, there's another article on why we should remain with England in the Pittsburgh Daily Gazette from that awful Jonathan Arnold! It makes an old man's blood boil! And even get very warm!”

“There's your answer, Liz.” Mackie swatted at the paper in the old man's hand.

Elizabeth took the paper from Mr. Eldridge. Scott couldn't help but notice how frightened her expression was. “Mr. Eldridge, the writing style is different. Too different. This article was written by another Johnathan Arnold.”

Mr. Eldridge shrugged. “I wonder what happened to the first Jonathan Arnold?”

Mackie snorted. “When you get discontinued by the British, you REALLY get discontinued, if you know what I mean.”

“Hush, Mackie.” Elizabeth said too quickly. “Maybe he just had...other assignments.”

“Yeah,” Scott added, “he was probably assigned to the front of the nearest firing squad.”

“Neither of you know the first thing about this!” Elizabeth tucked the newspaper under her arm. “I'm going home. Governor Pruitt said he wanted to talk to me about the rents. He probably just wants to tell me how many more items he's cut from the budget. That man is such a miser.”

Scott went to take her arm. “I'll walk you there, Liz.”

Mr. Eldridge waved him away. “That's all right, Scott. I need to see that newspaper myself. I'm entered in a raffle. They're giving away a big cash prize. I might even get a nice slip of paper.” He took Elizabeth's arm instead.

Scott watched Elizabeth sadly as they strolled off. “I really hurt her, Mackie. She's been like a block of ice to me ever since I was demoted to the kitchen.” He hit his fist into his hand. “I'm going to make things right. You'll see. I'll prove to her and to Pittsburgh just how much I really care.”

Mackie rolled his eyes. “You keep trying, and she keeps ignoring.” He held up a bag. “Look, right now, why don't we deliver this to the fruit farmer with the pregnant wife? He said he'd meet us at the Inn. That's something.”

Servants' Quarters Behind the Monongahela Inn, A Hour Later

“Thanks, guys.” Mackie handed Gus Kahana the bag of gold. “This is a lifesaver. Cora's almost due. You don't know how hard it is for a small farmer like me to make a living with these taxes and the bank bearing down on us.”

Scott exchanged grins with Mackie. “Don't thank us. Thank the Crimson Blade. He's the one who secured that money. Him and his people.”

“If you ever see him, tell him this means the world to me.” Scott and Mackie followed Gus to the door. “I have to deposit this in the Pittsburgh Central Bank in town. I'm pulling out of Seldon Sentry Bank. They've really been losing money over the past few weeks.” He pulled out a paper. “Just look at this advertisement in the farmers' newspaper.”

Scott raised his eyebrows at the advertisement. Mackie read over his arm. “These numbers scream that they're losing money. Why would they emphasize that?”

Mackie nodded. “Something's going on here.”

“I wonder...” Scott turned to Gus. “Can I borrow this?”

Gus shrugged. “Sure. I can always get another copy in town.” He headed for the door. “Speaking of, the wood from my orchards won't deliver themselves, and Cora is expecting me.” He bowed, doing his best George Washington imitation. “Where are our Men of abilities? Why do they not come forth to save their Country?”

Mackie chuckled as Gus left. “I wish he wasn't so busy with his farm. He's the only guy in the area with more voices than me. You should hear his John Adams.”

Scott was looking over the advertisements. “Mackie, tell Hilary I'm going to be late for the play.”

Mackie grimaced. “Oh no. That would be risking life and limb. Some of us enjoy being able to walk upright and not have our ears ringing with creative insults for the next two hours.”

But Mackie said this to the back of Scott's head. He was already sitting at the small table by the window, reading over the ads and writing numbers down on a paper with a tattered quill. Mackie just threw up his hands in annoyance and went downstairs to start rehearsal.

The Main Room, That Evening

Lady Hilary Booth was livid. Scott Sherwood had never appeared. He wasn't in the kitchen, and he hadn't been at rehearsals. She found herself playing her musical romance about a woman whose husband couldn't remember their marriage to Mr. Foley, who kept talking through their love scenes. She finally pushed him off the stage.

Elizabeth groaned. She had a few choice words for Scott Sherwood right now, none of them repeatable in a respectable play. It was bad enough that Hilary was going to be angry all night. Her Ladyship was already been talking to Douglas Thompson about divorce, which was not an easy thing to obtain in the colonies. Elizabeth looked at her watch. The show would be ending soon. She really had to talk to Pruitt and find out what he wanted. He said it was a surprise. Considering his last big surprise was an audit that cost Scott his job, she wasn't looking forward to what he had up his sleeve this time.

Elizabeth made her way into the manager's office. I wish I knew if Victor was all right. Her mind had been on Victor all day, ever since she'd read that newspaper. If only I could get in touch with him somehow, or just see him again!

She looked up as footsteps came close to the door. “Governor Pruitt?” She went to meet him at the door. The last thing she expected was to see Lord Jeff Singer rush past her and close the door as quietly as he could. His brown curls were windblown and his fine yellow and blue suit in disarray. He looked as if he rushed there straight from Boston on horseback without stopping. “Your Lordship! What are you doing here?”

“I had to see Hilary.”

“I don't think she wants to see you,” Elizabeth snapped. “How could you abandon her and marry another woman? You broke her heart!”

He looked out the window. “She has no idea I'm here.” He turned to her. “I need the script for the play. I saw the posters for it in town on my way here. If I do a scene with her, it may be a way to break the ice. She hasn't responded to any of my letters for the past two months. My explanation holds water.”

“So will your lungs if she gets you near the river.”

Eugenia hurried in. “Elizabeth, Governor Pruitt is on his way in. He wants to see you. And have you seen Scott? The play is almost over, and there's no one to do the last love scene with Hilary!”

Elizabeth indicated Jeff. “How about His Lordship?”

Eugenia nodded. “That'll do nicely...” Then her eyes widened when she stopped to think for a moment. She grabbed Jeff in a hug that nearly took his breath away. “Oh, Your Lordship, you're back!” He delighted grin became a worried frown. “Maybe you shouldn't be here. Her Ladyship is seriously considering doing real harm to you!”

Jeff shrugged. “She's been doing that since the day I met her.”

Eugenia led Lord Jeff out to the main room, where their small plays were put on. Quite a few people let out startled gasps as the attractive young nobleman stepped onto the narrow stage. He looked at the script – he hadn't time to memorize it. “Patricia?”

Lady Hilary Booth turned around in utter shock. “Je...James?”

He moved towards her and took him tenderly into his arms, while still managing to read the script. “Hello, my darling. It's me. I'm back from the dead. I had to come. I love you.”

“It's hard to believe it.” She leaned over and whispered in his ear “You'll wish you were back with the dead when I get through with you!”

He just pulled her closer. “Darling, you must believe it. I love you. I've never loved any woman more.”

She shook her head. “I...I love you too. We'll never mean more to each other than we do at this moment.” He leaned over to kiss her, but she simply turned away. “Don't even contemplate kissing me, Jeffrey Singer,” she hissed softly in his ear. “You lost that right the moment you wed that contemptible German trollop of a buccaneer.”

“Hilary, I had to...and this isn't the place to talk about it.” He moved from her embrace and took her hand as they walked off-stage to thunderous applause.

Elizabeth was looking wistfully out the window when Lady Hilary flew into the office with such savage intensity that the door nearly came off its hinges. “Elizabeth, who allowed Jeffrey into this inn?”

Elizabeth swirled around to her, startled. “Your ladyship, please don't do that!” She frowned. “Hilary, whether he's your husband or not, he still lives here and works here.”

“Not if I have any say in it.” Lady Hilary stood to her full, autocratic height. “If he's living here, I'm finding another home. I refuse to be under the same roof as him. I want to know which of us is staying or going by tomorrow. Please tell me first thing in the morning which of us is staying.” She looked around the office, her eyes a little sad. “I like...I like living here.” She finally went back out.

Jeff met her in the hallway. “Hilary, please listen to me!”

“I have to do no such thing.” She picked up her skirts. “I am going to dinner at my good friend Earl Aldrych's house. You can jump in the river, for all I care. It might improve what's left of that suit.” She finally flounced out of the Inn, Jeff hot on her heels.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. Now she had to choose between Jeff and Hilary. This was getting to be too much. She turned to the window, trying to figure out what to do. I don't want to hurt either of them. Oh Victor, I wish you were here!

“A pretty girl like you shouldn't be worrying so much. It'll put lines on your sweet face.” She wished she didn't have to turn to the door. Governor Rolleigh Pruitt slithered in. She could almost see the tail of his silvery gray velvet coat trailing along behind him, like a snake ready to strike. “Hello, Miss Roberts.” He nodded at the desk. “Why don't you take a seat? We'll discuss...many things.”

She did so. “Sir, you can't cut much more of our budget and expect us to be able to tend to our customers. We can't work without props for our plays or food or linens for our guests. And what's this about selling the inn? You can't shut it down. Some of our guests live here, including me! We don't have many other places we can afford to go.”

His face was entirely too happy for Elizabeth's liking. “Oh, I'm not interested in talking about the budget today. I have something else planned for us.” He reached over and took Elizabeth's hand. It was all Elizabeth could do to not pull it away in disgust. She didn't like the sound of that “us.”

“What do you have planned, sir? I have things I need to do today. There's a friend I need to...check up on.”

“That's what I wanted to talk to you about.” He patted her hand. “I know how upset you've been over these past few months. We're both concerned for a certain party in Boston.”

She looked up, amazed at his last words. “You...you know about Victor?”

His smile grew wider. “Who do you think his contact here was? I am the governor, after all.”

She let out a breath of relief. “Oh sir, I'm so glad! You have no idea how anxious and concerned I've been these past few months since I last saw him. Where is he? Is he all right? He doesn't seem to be writing for the British anymore. I'm afraid that something...something bad...happened.”

“Why don't you come into the lobby and see my surprise?” He chuckled. “I think it's one you'll like a great deal. It's for you and you alone, however. You'll have to clear out the rest of the staff. Send them to their rooms or tell them to go elsewhere for the night.”

Elizabeth did what she could. She couldn't find Mackie or Scott, and Hilary and Jeff were still at Earl Aldrych's. The few guests were already in their rooms. She sent Gertrude and Mr. Eldridge to the Buttery Tavern and told C.J, Maple, Mr. Foley, and Eugenia that there were problems with the chimneys and they should get out immediately, before the smoke spread.

Maple put her hands on her hips the moment Elizabeth pushed them out the front door. “I do not like this. Something smells bad here. It is tres inhabituel of Elizabeth to put us out so, oui? I see no smoke!”

“Yeah,” added C.J, “I don't like this, either. I saw Pruitt coming in a while ago. He looked way too happy.”

Eugenia shivered. “I don't like that man. He gives me the willies.” Mr. Foley added his own look of fright. He was about to speak, but Eugenia cut him off. “Don't worry, Mr. Foley! I'm sure Elizabeth knows how to handle him. She can handle anything.”

“I do not agree.” Maple gestured at Isabella Street. “Eugenia et Monsieur Foley, maybe you should meet Monsieur Eldridge et Madame Gertrude at le Buttery Tavern until we find out what is going on. We will send carriage for you when the toast is clear.” She turned to C.J. “Why don't you go to O'Malley's and round up our...friends...to help?” She leaned over and whispered “Get the boys! I don't care how drunk they are at this time of night. See if you can pull Lester away from his latest conquest. We'll need all the help we can get.”

C.J grinned and whispered back. “It's more than likely that Lester's latest conquest is trying to get away from him by now. I'll take Eugenia and Foley to the Buttery, then bring the others back here.”

“And I will go to my quarters and get dressed. I think the Crimson Blade will be needed here.”

As the four broke up, Maple thought she saw someone familiar walking into the Inn. She couldn't be certain, though. It was too dark to tell. He wore the uniform of a British military officer. Where have I seen him before? She didn't have the time to wonder. She hurried around back to the servants' quarters.

The Lobby, A Few Minutes Later

Elizabeth couldn't believe her eyes. There he was, right in front of her, as tall and refined as ever in the bright uniform of a British officer. He took off his tall hat. “Hello, Elizabeth,” said Victor Comstock quietly. “I'm back.”

“Thank goodness you're home!” She ran right to his arms. “I've been so worried!”

“I've been traveling for...weeks, maybe months. It's strange.” His smile seemed a bit weak. “I can't seem to remember. There was a woman...” He shook his head. “But let's not think about that. I'm here, now. And I'm with you.”

“Yes, you are.” She looked up as Rollie Pruitt stepped into the room. “And here's your contact now. I'm sure you both have a great deal to talk about...”

Victor looked confused. “That's not my contact. That's the governor of this colony.”

Elizabeth's heart dropped into her stomach. “Victor, what's going on? He told me...” Horror appeared in her brown eyes. “No, I told him everything. I did the talking. You're...one of them. You're helping the British.”

“And so is your precious Victor, now.” He scowled at her. “You reckless child, did you think I wouldn't figure it out? I have resources in places you couldn't dream of.” He grabbed her by the arm. “You'll both be coming with me. You'll make a fine bride to help run my empire. You're just pretty enough to look attractive in all the jewels I'll shower you with...and just gullible enough to obey my commands.”

“No! No!” Elizabeth struggled...at least until she saw Victor pull out a gun and aim it directly at Pruitt.

Pruitt's eyes widened. “I was told the hypnosis was complete! You're to help me get Miss Roberts out of Pittsburgh, not take out my hide!”

“Hypnosis?” This was just getting stranger and stranger. “Is that how you did this to him?”

“My confederate said he wouldn't obey otherwise. Stubborn, overly noble Patriot!” He pulled out a gun of his own on Elizabeth. “If you try anything outside of your conditioning, I'll make sure our Miss Roberts won't be writing any more of that vulgar romantic twaddle of hers.”

“Everyone's a critic,” Elizabeth grumbled. “Even people who are trying to marry you and kill you!”

Outside the Monongahela Inn, At That Same Moment

Scott and Mackie hurried up the steps of the porch. Mackie was sniffing around. “I swear I smell smoke, Scott. I thought Mr. Foley was pulling my leg when he went on and on about the chimneys, but now I think he might have been right.”

“Oh please. There's nothing but the usual smoke coming out of our chimneys. Anyone can see that.”

Mackie nodded at the posters in Scott's arms. “Did you decipher them, Scotty?”

“Oh, you bet I did. It's big, big news! There have been codes going out in local ads, including ones hung in the lobby of our very own Inn.”

“That's why the numbers are always different, right?”

“Right. It's a different code in every ad. Who would suspect it?” He waved his hand at the garden. “You go find Elizabeth. Check the garden and the upstairs halls. I'll look in the lobby.”

“I don't know, Scott. I think I see smoke coming from...”

Scott gave him a gentle shove towards the garden. “Cut that out!” He shook his head as he pushed into the lobby. “Those codes were just so dull. You can tell a banker came up with them. 'Sell Spanish Cocoa to Carolina.' That's so...”

The last thing he was expecting was the pistol in his face...or to ever see the man who aimed it in that room. He knew the hawk-like visage well from the painting over the front desk. “Victor Comstock,” he said in shock, “you're alive.”

“Scott?” Elizabeth gasped. An angry, sweating Pruitt had another pistol trained on her. It was all Scott could do to not lunge at the Governor then and there.

“Elizabeth,” he barely breathed, “I love you.”

“This is all very sweet, but you're making my teeth itch.” He took Elizabeth into his arms, still holding the gun on her. “Victor, keep that pistol on Sherwood. If you want to kill him, be my guest. He's a been a thorn in my side ever since he came to this hotel.”

“I'll land a lot more than a thorn in your side if you don't let Liz go!”

Elizabeth was tired of being treated like a prize. She bit Pruitt's hand, pulling away from him. She wiped her lips. “Bleech! Your lordship, you taste terrible.”

“You little...” Pruitt hissed. “No matter. I'll still be taking you and Victor with me.”

Scott knew he had to do something. “Victor, listen to me! 'Sell Spanish Cocoa...'

Elizabeth looked at Victor with hope in her eyes. “Victor, do you remember the night you came back, how surprised I was? I almost died with shock!”

Yeah, I'm about to do the same. Scott would have given anything to have been armed at that moment. He hadn't expected to walk into the lobby and find a gun fight! If only I could get to the servants' quarters...

That was when Victor shot...and Elizabeth collapsed. Scott lunged unthinkingly at Victor. The two struggled across the room. Pruitt tried to shoot at both of them, but they were moving too fast. They both looked up at the same time when there was another shot.

“Uh, Victor, did you do that?”

“I think I did.” They both turned at the same time to Pruitt. He was clutching his arm, which now bled through his fat, cigar-like fingers, and was plaintively whining for his mummy. He finally passed out on the floor next to Elizabeth.

Scott ignored him and went to the girl on the floor. “Liz?” He started checking her, but she finally got to her knees.

“I'm all right.” He helped her to her feet. “I had to do something. I fainted after I talked to Victor the first time he came home. I thought, if I did it again, Pruitt might fall for it.”

“Good thinking, Liz.” He turned towards Victor, who was rubbing his head, as if trying to clear it. “And good shooting, Victor. You at least got Pruitt down.”

“Lousy shooting. I was aiming for the desk. But I did what I came to do.”

Elizabeth sat Victor down on the nearest chair while Scott came out of the kitchen with rope. “I think we'd better get Pruitt tied up, before he tries something else.” He took one pistol and handed the other to Elizabeth. “You keep an eye on this while I make sure he won't get away.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I have to tell someone, Victor. This is too important.” She went to Scott. “Do you remember this morning, when we realized that a different Johnathan Arnold wrote that article?”

Scott looked up from binding Pruitt's arms. “Yeah, why?”

Elizabeth helped him tie Pruitt's ankles. “Scott, Victor was Johnathan Arnold. He was a double spy. He wrote the original articles.”

Scott's brown eyes nearly popped right out of his skull. “Pittsburgh's most beloved innkeeper turned traitor?”

“No!” She waved her hands. “He was working with the Patriots to get the goods on the enemy. I don't know how, but they must have gotten the goods on him instead and done something to his mind.”

“Hypnosis.” Scott made a face. “I heard about this when I was a cabin boy in Africa. He has to be brought around slowly. He'll probably be in and out for a few hours.”

Elizabeth groaned. “We don't have a few hours! We have to call the police. They'll...” That was when they both noticed Victor was gone. “Oh no! We can't let him wander around like this!”

“You go check the Inn for him. Ask some of the other residents. They're probably wondering about the gunshots by now, anyway.”

Mackie hurried in as Elizabeth headed for the stairs. “I heard shots. I thought it was one of our plays, but then I remembered how late it was....”

Pruitt was starting to come to. “Mr. Bloom, I've been shot!”

“Had to happen sooner or later! If not by Scott, than by someone else.” He smirked. “I might have done it, if I'd had the right equipment on me. You are the lowest snake to ever slide through the halls of this Inn!”

Scott holstered the pistol. “He's a British spy, Mackie.”

Mackie rolled his eyes at Pruitt. “That too? Is there something evil you haven't done yet?”

“My guards are on their way here,” Pruitt hissed. “I ordered them to come. They were to help me bring Mistress Roberts and a British traitor to my mansion. They'll be here any minute.”

“Bring 'em on!” Mackie held out his fists. “I could use a little exercise. It's been too quiet around here lately. Now, if you'll excuse me,” he stood up importantly, “duty calls. I have to go help my real boss take care of a few codes your buddy Seldon Sentry thought he could sneak past us.”

Victor was wandering aimlessly in the hallway when he ran into Mackie. Mackie took one look at Victor and did several double takes. “Victor? Victor Comstock?”

“That would be yours truly.” He shook out his head, as if trying to clear it. “At least, I'm relatively certain that's who I am. I'm an...innkeeper here, am I correct?”

“No!” squeaked Mackie, “you're dead!”

Victor looked himself over. “Well, perhaps I'm feeling light-headed and unusually nauseous at the present time, but I'm certain it'll pass....” That's when he just started wandering again, still looking dazed.

“But...but...” Mackie turned back to the hallway, this time running into Elizabeth and Scott. “I just saw Victor! I don't know how I just saw Victor....”

Elizabeth nodded. “Mackie, it's true. He's alive. Under some kind of hypnosis right now, but alive.” She started down the hallway, with Scott right behind her. “The first time I saw him, as soon as he left, I fainted dead away.”

“I like that.” Mackie chose to do the same, collapsing face-first onto the hallway floor.

Elizabeth let out a groan as the sound of men breaking in could be heard from the lobby. “Scott, go see if you can get some of the guests to help you deal with Pruitt's men. I'll try to bring Mackie around.”

“Right, Liz.” Scott hurried off while Elizabeth went to the kitchen to get a cup of water. What Elizabeth didn't see was Scott making a right turn, not for the lobby, but for the back door in the kitchen. Two people in black and red outfits could already be seen making their way across the garden in the dark. He made sure they got across, then ducked back in.

Isabella Street, Two Minutes Later

Lady Hilary Booth was doing her best to completely ignore Lord Jeffrey Singer. She'd gotten as far as the market square before realizing she'd forgotten her plum-colored velvet cape, not the brightest thing one could do in late January in cold Pittsburgh Village. She finally turned back, Jeffrey dogging her heels the entire way.

“Hilary, you have to listen to me!” He tried to get in front of her. “I don't love Pavla. I never loved Pavla. I love you!”

“That's not what she told me!” Hilary stomped past the Inn's carriage house. “Jeffrey, she kidnapped me! She forced me to listen to a letter you wrote her about how much you love her!”

“Blast it! She promised you wouldn't get hurt!”

“You believed the promise of a pirate who has probably thrown herself at every man with money on the Monongahela River?” She stopped at the porch. “Jeffrey, I left my cape in our...my...room. Would you be so kind as to retrieve it for me?”

That was when they saw the men in red uniforms at the doors. “I don't think either of us will be going inside for a while.” He stepped up to one of the men. “Let me through! I'm Lord Jeffrey Singer, a peer of the realm, and I need to get into that building!”

One of the men almost literally shoved Jeff off the porch. “Yeah, and my uncle's King George. Amscray, pal.”

Hilary grabbed her skirts and pounded up to the guard with a fury that made the wooden boards quake. “Touch that man again, and I'll see to it that you're arrested and locked in Fort Pitt until every single hair on that oversized head falls out and your hands are too gnarled to lay a finger on anyone who above your station! Or have I said too much?”

The other guard smirked, his eyes roaming up and down Hilary's fairly tight plum and forest green gown. “Yeah, sure we'll let ya in, sister. For a price.” He put a hand on Hilary's shoulder. “I sure could do with a little fun tonight.”

“I'll give you fun!” Hilary socked the man with such an enormous right hook, he flew through the door and into the lobby, knocking several chairs over in the process. Jeff wrestled with the other man, finally knocking him unconscious. They both hurried in at the same time.

They both managed to squeeze through the door at the same time, with Hilary's skirts mostly intact. The scene before them was chaos. Men in black garb and hoods fought with men in the uniforms of the governor’s guards. Furniture in the lobby had been knocked here, there, and everywhere. Elizabeth tried to keep people from dueling on the furniture. Mackie just grinned and hit whomever got close to him.

Jeff turned to Hilary. “Pumpkin, go to Pittsburgh Village and get a hold of the police. This is getting out of hand.”

Hilary rolled her eyes and took a discarded sword. “I'm just as good at this as you are. You go get the police.” Jeff had learned better than to argue with Lady Hilary Booth. He made his way out of the lobby.

Victor Comstock wasn't sure what was going on. His mind was lost in a fog and...something else. Something he was struggling to remember. Something about cocoa...or was it something else? Was his name Victor? Or Johnathan Arnold? What did that woman want? A pirate...wanted to know what he found out about the Patriots...what he knew...what did he know?

He made his way into the garden. The guards and the men in black had been joined by several guests. He wasn't sure what he could do. He picked up a lost sword. Could he help? He didn't like the way the odds appeared. The guards had already captured several of the men who wore the black shirts and hoods and the red belts and were leading them away. The voice of one of them, a small man probably little more than a boy, seemed so familiar...

“Hey! What are you doing with my deux-in-command, monsieur guard? That is no way to treat a deux-in-command!”

Victor's eyes widened. The individual who swung down to the garden from the leafless plum tree near the fence was most certainly feminine. He could tell, even with her face covered by a black hood. Her voice was a French-accented contralto, and her red shirt clung to every curve of her bosom. Alas, she misjudged her timing and flew right into Victor, rather than the guard who accosted the youth. The momentum from her swing knocked both of them flat on the brittle grass of the garden, her on top.

Victor could have sworn he saw a very wide, toothy smile behind the hood. “Bonjour! It is nice to get drop on you, monsieur, oui?” She winked at him. “You are tres beau, and you are more cozy than you look!”

“Thank you, miss,” he said, “but first of all, I believe that man is absconding with your...second in command?” He indicated the guard, who was dragging the protesting young man away. “Second, when you swung down, you should have done it five seconds sooner. And perhaps you should have done it a fraction to the right, so you would have landed on your intended target, rather than on my chest. Not,” he added quickly, “that you aren't attractive there, but your sitting on me is of no help to either of us or the young man.”

“Oooh lah lah,” the woman breathed, “you are tres intelligent, Monsieur! I like that in a homme.” She helped him to his feet. “How do you know all that? You are...” She squinted, and her eyes seemed to widen. “You are Victor Comstock! I know your face from painting in lobby!”

“Yes, I am, miss.” He shook her hand. “And you are?”

Her knees would buckled then and there if she wasn't so confused. He had a really cute smile, for a dead guy. “Uh, I am the Crimson Blade, monsieur. But you...you are not among us!”

“I'll try to make more room for you in my schedule, Miss Crimson Blade.” He indicated the back door. “We need to reveal what has occurred here to the remainder of the staff and guests, including the young man's abduction. I don't think this will be good for encouraging the guests to remain here longer than a few hours. Some may have already vacated the premises.”

The Crimson Blade didn't follow Victor into the kitchen. She stared after him for a few minutes, her mouth open, but nothing coming out. She finally remembered her own predicament and that of her second-in-command's and headed for the servants' quarters.

The Lobby of the Monongahela Inn, Ten Minutes Later

The fight was already wearing down, even as Lord Jeffrey returned with the police and military. Victor, Scott, and Elizabeth made their way in as the last of the guards were lead out. Elizabeth and Scott handed Pruitt over to the head of the squadron. Elizabeth nudged Pruitt. “Here's the cause of all the trouble, officer.”

Victor nodded in agreement, sounding more like his old self. “This corpulent gentleman's guards caused a great deal of damage to this building, left our guests trembling in absolute fear, and may have abducted several men in black costumes who attempted to come to our aid.”

“He's also a British spy.” Scott nodded at the decoded messages. “Here's the proof.”

The commander grinned. “We've been after this information for months. Our men had their suspicions about Seldon Sentry, but we couldn't prove anything until you good people came up with this.” He turned to Victor. “Lieutenant Comstock, you'll be coming along to Fort Pitt tomorrow for questioning and rest. We should be able to question the rest of you here later.”

The remaining Inn staff entered as the military was leaving. Maple came in from the kitchen. “What happened in here?” asked Eugenia in shock.

“Looks like the last battle of the French and Indian War,” added Gertrude.

“Or they ran out of coffee and someone just drank the last cup,” suggested Mr. Eldridge.

“This is not going to be amusement to clean up in the morning,” Maple complained.

Mr. Foley was too busy gasping at Victor in shock to notice the mess. Gertrude gave him the biggest hug she possibly could. “Victor, you're alive! It's amazing! Who would believe miracles could happen in this year of 1775?”

Victor just looked confused again. “It's 1775? I thought...” He looked down as Mr. Foley poked and prodded his arms and face.

Mr. Eldridge stopped and shook his head. “Victor, where the hell have you been?”

Jeff finally wound his way to the front of the crowd. “Victor, we have to tell everyone. They're bound to find out sooner or later.”

“Tell us what?” Hilary tossed her sword on a table and sat on the chair next to it.

“I knew all along that Victor was Jonathan Arnold.” Jeff stepped onto the stage in the main room. “I was Victor's contact.”

Victor joined him. “Jeff was the only civilian who knew everything about military secrets I'm not at liberty to discuss here.”

“Is this where Pavla comes in?” Hilary asked.

“Yes.” Jeff sat in the chair next to Hilary, but she moved to a couch across the room. “Hilary, there was nothing between us. I tried to tell you that earlier. I gave a letter to her that she promised her men would pass on to you. She must have doctored it to make it look like I was leaving you.”

Maple made a face. “If she does not love you, why would she care?”

“It was in code. The one Hilary and I use to get out of parties quickly. The military would have figured it out in an instant, and mail's been slow going out of Boston anyway. The Ursula Gothel is one of the fastest ships afloat.” He sighed. “I promised her I'd use my connections to get her work in the theater if she got that letter to you and kept Victor's secret.”

Elizabeth's eyes widened. “And then she came here, and we stopped her kidnapping scheme with Hilary. That must have been when she decided to go back on her word and tattle on Victor.”

Maple nodded. “That hussy broke her promise to you two times over, Your Lordship. She make Hilary's letter look like it was love, and she tell British Victor is traitor.”

Jeff went to Hilary. “Darling, I did this all for you, and for Victor, and for us. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone. All I want is for us to be married again.”

Hilary pulled her hand away from his. “You're already married.”

“Oh, yeah. But other than that, I still love you.”

Hilary stood. “Jeffrey, I understand why you did it, but...why couldn't you have done something more sensible to Pavla, like throw her off the edge of her blasted ship?” She finally put up a hand. “You may live here. Not in the same room as me, of course. You could even speak to me, if you're feeling in the mood to be belittled, tormented, and bedeviled every waking moment.”

He smiled wistfully at Hilary. “I always have, Mittens.”

Maple sighed romantically and elbowed Scott, who made a face. Elizabeth smiled. Mackie beamed wolfishly. Eugenia giggled. Mr. Foley blushed. Victor just nodded. “I think we should all be getting some sleep. It's been an extraordinary day.” He turned to Elizabeth. “I'll slumber in whatever room is unoccupied tonight.”

She beamed prettily. “Your old room on the third floor is open, the one that overlooks the garden. You can stay there for now, until you get things settled with Fort Pitt.”

Thank heavens Elizabeth lives on the second floor, Scott thought as he and Elizabeth followed Victor upstairs. I don't want those two any closer than they need to be. He continued out loud. “There's some things I need to talk to you about too, Victor.”

“You can tell me first thing tomorrow morning.” They finally stopped at the first door on the landing of the third floor. “And Elizabeth, when the remaining guests and staff awaken tomorrow, you can tell them that I'm home.” He looked around. “And I'm elated to be home.”

Elizabeth's smile could have lit up all of Pittsburgh. Scott, however, had never felt more discouraged. He was going to have to work even harder to win Elizabeth's love..and now, he had to face up to stealing Victor's job, too.