The Night of the Lily Maid

by California gal

Jim, Artemus, and Jeremy run into a vengeance-seeking old enemy, and only a woman's love and courage can save them.

THE NIGHT OF THE LILY MAID

Also known as "the Lily Maid," Elaine of Astolat was the maiden who died of unrequited love for Lancelot and floated in a barge to Camelot with a letter for Lancelot clutched in her lifeless hand. She appears in Malory and in Tennyson's idyll of "Lancelot and Elaine." The figure of Elaine in the barge became one of the most popular Victorian images. She also protected Lancelot's shield. The name came to me as a title for this opus, and I couldn't think of anything else!

What, sir, would the people of the earth be without women?

They would be scarce, sir, almighty scarce.

—Mark Twain (1835-1910), American author

"What did you say the name of this town was?"

Artemus Gordon looked at the woman riding beside him and grinned. "Peacetown. Looks pretty peaceful, doesn't it?"

"Looks dead!" Lily Fortune retorted.

Artie had to agree, chuckling. This little burg in a remote corner of Wyoming did not appear very prosperous. A number of buildings had boarded-up windows and doors. Still, a few people were on the wooden walkways and porches, mostly men, though Artemus saw a short, rather stout woman standing in the open doorway of the structure bearing a sign identifying it as the "Peacetown General Mercantile."

"There's the hotel," Artie said, noticing the building directly across from the mercantile.

"At least it's in business," Lily muttered, noting the open door.

Artemus did not respond as they guided their horses toward the hitching rack in front of "The Peacetown Inn, meals available." He knew Lily was tired. He was as well. Nearly nine hours had elapsed since they departed from the Wanderer, and although they had stopped a few times to stretch their legs or consume some of the food brought with them, the jaunt had been a long one. Especially for someone like Lily Fortune whose recent riding experiences had been trots through city parks.

Nonetheless, she had insisted on accompanying him, nor had she voiced any complaints. Attired in a split skirt of soft suede and well-fitted boots, Lily was mounted on a sturdy pinto that Artemus had acquired, a fortuitous find in a small town where the train had stopped to take on water and fuel.

He had taken the Wanderer to Kansas City to meet with his fiancée as her latest show closed, happily aware that she was going to have a two-week hiatus before going on to Chicago to start rehearsing the next play. When the telegram from Jim had arrived cutting short the stay in Missouri, Lily had eagerly invited herself along. Artie had not argued too strongly against the plan. In fact, he had been delighted to have her company in the Wanderer on the long ride across Kansas. They talked, read to each other, fixed meals together, and discussed plans for the future.

Agents West and Gordon had finally had a respite, some time to relax. Indeed, Colonel Richmond virtually commanded them to take advantage of the lull. Delighted that for once his time off coincided with Lily Fortune's, Artemus had joined his lady love, while Jim West had traveled by commercial train to Boise, Idaho, where he was to meet fellow agent Jeremy Pike. The two men were attending the wedding of a mutual acquaintance, a man Artemus knew, but not as well as the other pair did. He didn't mind missing the fete for the opportunity to be with Lil. Even the fact that Lily's mother, Prudence Fortune Peters, was also in Kansas City with her husband did not dampen his happiness. They had left Lyle and Prudence behind in Missouri when the Wanderer headed west for Wyoming.

Jim West's telegram had not been an unwelcome interruption, primarily because, due to its arrival and the message contained, Artie and Lily were able to have more time together, away from her mother. Prudence had objected, but Lyle had winked at Artemus over his wife's shoulder. Before long, Prudence had decided that perhaps the plan was not so bad. After all, she and her still relatively new husband would be able to sample more of Kansas City's fine restaurants together.

Previously, the plan had been for all to remain in Kansas City, then Artie would have traveled with Lily to Chicago before rendezvousing with Jim in Denver. However, while in Boise, Jim and Jeremy had received word from Colonel Richmond that a man in Peacetown, Wyoming had very important papers containing information about a counterfeiting ring, so they needed to travel there to talk to him. Artemus was to meet them there. The information in Jim's telegram had been pretty sparse, but Artie knew he would learn more once the agents joined up.

Because the mission involved simply picking up the papers, returning to the train, then carrying them east, Artemus saw no reason why Lily should not accompany him. Apparently the man with the papers, one Romeo Castillo, lived in Peacetown but was too ill to travel far. Artemus was curious as to how such a man obtained vital documents, but because Richmond had sent the orders, his was "not to reason why" but to simply obey. Apparently the colonel had verified that the papers were important enough to necessitate all three men guarding them!

"Oh Poky," Lily sighed as her feet hit the dusty street and she patted the pinto's neck, "you're a lovely horse but pardon me if I say I really don't want to see you for at least twenty-four hours, after a couple of very long hot baths!"

Artemus laughed aloud, pulling his saddlebags off his chestnut, and then the small portmanteau strapped behind the pinto's saddle. Artie had teased Lily about needing such a bag, but she had ignored him after sniffing, "Well, women and men are different, in case you haven't noticed!" He assured her he had noticed, and added "Vive la difference!"

Gripping the saddle bags and Lily's bag in one hand, Artemus took her arm as they mounted the steps, which creaked under their weight. Not a posh hotel, Artemus mused, glancing at the woman at his side when they entered through the open double doors. Lily was much accustomed to finer accommodations since her ascendance in the acting world. But he also knew that she had known hard times during that rise. He saw nothing on her face to indicate distaste or reluctance.

The carpet on the floor was extremely faded. So much so that determining its original color was impossible. A couple of chairs off to one side were covered with knit afghans, possibly to disguise their age and flaws. But a smiling man was behind the counter to greet them.

"What can I do for you, sir and madam?"

"My name is Artemus Gordon. I believe my partner arranged for a room."

"Oh… oh yes." The man's eyes flicked to Lily. "But he didn't mention you were bringing your wife."

"My fiancée," Artie corrected with a smile. "Last minute plans. So we'll require an extra room. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all! Not at all! As you may have noticed, this isn't exactly a bustling metropolis. Oh, I have a message for you, Mr. Gordon. Let me see." The clerk tipped his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yes. Mr. West would like you to meet him as soon as you arrive. He said it was urgent."

Artemus glanced toward the stairs. "Is he in his room?"

"No, sir. You are to go to the Castillo house. That's where he and Mr. Pike are. Maybe you noticed it on your way into town. Big house up on the hill."

They had noticed, and commented on it. A two-story mansion perched atop a knoll just at the edge of town, though somewhat off the road they had traveled on. They had discussed whether it was occupied, for even from the distance, the house appeared somewhat unkempt and dilapidated, with sagging shutters and a dullness to the paint.

"Does Mr. Castillo live there?"

The clerk blinked. "Don't know about that. Mr. West just said it was real important that you come right away."

Lily put her hand on his arm. "Go ahead, Artemus. I'll be fine. Especially if the gentleman can provide me with a hot bath."

"Oh, indeed, ma'am. Yes, indeed. Quicker than you can shake a stick. Come right along, and I'll show you to your room." He came around the counter, keys in hand, picking up the bags Artemus had put on the floor.

"As soon as I find out what's going on, I'll be back, and we can sample the dining room." Artemus nodded toward the door at the far side of the lobby, which was labeled "restaurant." "More than likely Jim and Jeremy will be ready for supper too." He kissed her lips lightly.

Lily watched him exit, and through the open doors she saw him mount his horse and head in the direction from which they had come. The clerk was waiting, so she followed him up the stairs—on which the carpet was barely existent—and to the second floor hallway. He opened a door and stepped aside.

"Will this do, ma'am?"

It was not the Ritz, but appeared clean and the bed looked reasonably comfortable. "Just fine. Leave Mr. Gordon's bag here. He can get it when he returns. Which is his room?"

"Right next door, ma'am. Right next door." The clerk started for the door.

Lily thought it a little strange that he did not wait for a gratuity. "The bath?"

"I'll come tell you when it's ready. The bath room is down at the end of the hall. Won't be long. Nice and hot."

As the door closed, Lily turned, eyeing the bed. Laying down to rest her aching bones and muscles was a tempting idea. But if the bath was going to be ready soon, she needed to prepare for it, to have her soap and clean clothes on hand. So she opened the portmanteau and began to remove items. The ones she would need right away were placed on the bed, but some others she decided to put in a drawer of the battered bureau with its milky mirror, though she wished the room had a closet or at least a wardrobe where she could hang her skirt and blouse so they would not get rumpled.

Next best thing was to lay them flat in a drawer, and she was doing that, carefully spreading a shirtwaist out, when her fingers encountered something at the rear of the drawer. Pulling it out, Lily frowned deeply. How strange! What were the odds of finding a razor exactly like the one she had given Jim West on his last birthday in the drawer of a bureau of an empty room in a rundown hotel in Peacetown, Wyoming?

The razor was distinctive, hand tooled, made of the finest steel, the leather casing trimmed with etched silver. She had found one in a small shop in San Francisco, and knowing Jim's birthday was approaching earlier this summer, had purchased it. He had been delighted with the razor. Artemus told her Jim raved about the keenness of the blade and insisted his partner try it. Artie had heartily agreed that it was the best shave he had ever given himself, so Lily planned to look for a similar one for him on her next trip to the California city.

Shaking her head, Lily placed the razor on top of the bureau. If Jim had his razor with him, they could compare the two before handing this one over to the clerk. A previous guest must have left it, and considering the apparent lack of guests here, discerning which one had this room last should not be difficult.

Her unpacking finished, Lily put her bag on the floor and Artemus's saddlebags on the bureau, next to the razor. She sat down on the bed to await the call that the bath was ready. After a minute or so the temptation was too strong, and she laid down. A few moments later, Lily Fortune opened her eyes into the dimness of the room.

Momentarily confused, she sat up, looking around. Why is it so dark? Oh, goodness! I fell asleep! How long…? She reached for the lapel watch she had placed on the bedside stand and squinted at it in the gloom. Almost seven! I slept for nearly three hours. Why didn't I hear the knock on the door when the clerk came to tell me the bath was ready?

Sliding off the bed, Lily went to the window, which overlooked the street. The late summer twilight shadowed everything but she could not see any person moving. Nor a light in any window, including the mercantile across the way. Picking up the room key, she went out the door, further surprised to find that the wall sconces in the corridor had not been lit.

She made her way to the stairs in the near darkness, with the only faint light coming through the window at the far end of the hall, and descended slowly. No lamps illuminated the lobby either. The front door stood open, as it had earlier, but the clerk was not behind the counter. She went to that counter to ring the bell there. After a few moments, she rang it again. The tones seem to die in the utter silence.

Finally, Lily moved around the counter and knocked on the door behind it. Receiving no response, she opened it to find a bare room, no furnishings whatsoever, not even a carpet on the wooden floor. Baffled, she then crossed to the restaurant door. Like the lobby, it was dark and empty. All the tables were bare, and some had chairs upturned on them. Even in the murk she could see dust covering some of the furnishings in this room.

What in the world?

Going to the front door, Lily stepped out onto the hotel's porch. The entire town was dark. Across the way, the door of the mercantile stood open, but no lights emanated from inside, nor from the windows upstairs. As she gazed around, she realized the only light visible was emanating from a window of the Castillo house, on the rise above town. A second floor window, she surmised, because the roofs of the town's buildings covered her view of the lower level of the house.

Abruptly Lily realized that her pinto was no longer tied to the hitching rack. Of course, Artemus had ridden his horse to keep the appointment with his fellow agents. She frowned. That was nearly three hours ago. Why were they not back at the hotel by now? Where was the clerk? Where was everyone?

An alley lay between the hotel and the building next. Lily hurried down that alley, to the rear of the hotel, where she found a building that might have once been a stable, but which was half fallen down. No horses were in sight.

What is going on here?

That thought swirled through Lily Fortune's brain as she slowly returned to the street, and reentered the hotel. Once again she checked the restaurant, going into the kitchen, which obviously had not been used in a very long time, and then back out to the hotel lobby, calling aloud, "Anyone here?" The situation was surreal… unreal. Too much like one of the plays in which she performed. Or like the town of Paradox.

Artemus and Jim had told her the story of their weird encounter with a vengeance-seeking man who arranged for Jim, and then Artie, to be transported to the town of Paradox, a town not on any maps, and without human habitation… at least none who wished to be seen. In the end, Emmett Stark had come very close to accomplishing his cruel goal of having one agent kill the other, aware of the anguish that the survivor would endure.

Unlike that eerie desert town, Peacetown had appeared to have inhabitants. She had seen them earlier, indeed, talked to one, the clerk. But where were they? Back on the hotel's front porch, Lily stared up at the beacon of light in the window of the Castillo house. She knew she had no choice. Darkness was falling, and thus far no moon was appearing. Obviously someone was in that house, hopefully Artemus, Jim, and Jeremy among them. She needed to get there before full dark.

Thankful that she had not changed from her comfortable riding garb and boots, Lily set off, walking down the board sidewalk passed the closed and darkened buildings, fighting off a sense that despite the town seemed deserted, she was actually not alone and eyes were on her. Just like the feeling Jim had described he had experienced in Paradox. This made no sense. Where had everyone gone? Above all, where were Artemus, Jim, and Jeremy?

Halfway up the sloping lane that led to the large house, Lily realized that at this moment she was more puzzled than frightened. Vaguely she wondered if her fiancé was playing some sort of game, a trick, but brushed that aside. Artie could be a jokester, but nothing like this. He could never have planned such an elaborate ruse in such a short time, and presumably he had not known he would be coming to Wyoming before a few days ago.

Nearing the large structure, she could see more lights through the first floor windows, and on the porch. Welcoming lights. Perhaps, for some reason, the entire town had gathered here. Most assuredly, the population of the town was small. Maybe…

Lily forced herself to stop speculating. She would know the answers in a few moments. Because she had walked up the ascending road swiftly, by the time she reached the porch she was breathing heavily, and aware that she was also perspiring in the warm evening. So she paused, took a few deep breaths, then used a handkerchief to dab away the moisture from her forehead and cheeks.

She went up the stairs to the door, which was large and heavy-looking with an iron knocker in the shape of a horse's head. Close-up, the perception of the poor condition of the house was confirmed. Paint was badly needed, and a couple of the boards on the porch should be replaced before someone stepped through them. Shabby genteel was the thought that came to mind as she lifted the knocker and let it drop twice.

The swiftness with which the door opened caused Lily to wonder if her approach had not been observed. A rather short, portly man gazed at her with mild interest, not appearing surprised at all. "May I help you, ma'am?" He was attired in a business suit that did not resemble a butler's livery.

"I hope so," she smiled. "I'm afraid I'm somewhat lost. I wonder if I could speak to the owner of this house?"

He bowed slightly, stepping back as an invitation to enter. Lily moved by him, not at all surprised to find that the interior was as tattered as the outside. Like the hotel, the carpet was worn and faded; wallpaper, also faded, was torn in some areas. A couple of darker spots on the wall indicated that pictures had once hung there. Sold for funds? A scarred but obviously very fine grandfather clock stood against the wall, beginning to chime the hour of eight. Shabby genteel, indeed.

The chubby man led her to a room halfway down the hallway toward a curving staircase, pushing open a sliding door and again stepping aside, allowing her to enter. Lily found herself in a small parlor that might have once been exquisite, but again was threadbare. A woman rose from a chair near a fireplace.

"Please excuse me for intruding," Lily said quickly. "I'm looking for Mr. Gordon and his friends."

The woman was middle aged, tall and on the thin side, faded red hair that contained streaks of gray was twisted in a thick knot atop her head. She might once have been quite attractive, but time—or something—had roughened her skin, hardened her features. Her dress was plain, a faded gray, that either had been made for a larger woman or else this one had lost weight. The dress hung loosely on her frame.

"Mr. Gordon? I don't believe I know the name." Her voice contained a certain amount of culture in the tone. The expression on the woman's face was pleasant.

Lily was momentarily stunned. "But he… they… is this the Castillo house?"

"Castillo? No. My name is Agatha Love. My father, Augustus Love, built this house… founded Peacetown."

"I don't understand. I just don't understand. This is all so confusing!"

Miss Love reached out a hand, touching Lily's arm. "Please sit down. You look as though you feel faint."

"No…" Lily was going to argue that she was not having a case of vapors, but decided a chair would be very welcome right now. She sat down on the nearest, a cushioned settee. Miss Love went to the doorway and spoke to someone.

"Harvey will bring tea. I'm sure it will help. May I ask your name?"

"Lily Fortune. I rode into town this afternoon with my fiancé…"

"Lily Fortune? The actress? Oh, I should have recognized you from pictures in the newspaper. You are quite a beautiful lady!" Agatha Love returned to her seat by the fireplace. "Do forgive me for interrupting. We don't get many celebrities in Peacetown."

"My fiancé, Artemus Gordon, and I came here to meet two friends of his." Lily decided not to mention the agents' official status, at least not right away. "We went to the hotel and were told by the clerk that Mr. West and Mr. Pike were at the 'Castillo house.' This home was pointed out to us. I went to my room to await a bath, and Mr. Gordon went to meet his friends… at the Castillo house. I fell asleep on the bed, and when I awakened, the hotel was deserted. In fact, the entire town appears deserted."

Sadness washed over Agatha Love's face. "I'm afraid it is deserted. No one lives there. The hotel has not been in operation for over a year." She leaned forward slightly, peering at Lily. "Are you sure you didn't dream it all?"

"I'm positive. My belongings are still in the hotel. The bed is made up, the room is clean… Miss Love, are you certain…?"

"I have lived here virtually all my life, Miss Fortune, except for some time spent in school. I watched the town grow, and then die. I am the only resident now. Myself, my two servants. I can't imagine what you think you saw in town."

"Do you… is the name Romeo Castillo familiar?"

Miss Love shook her head slowly. "I'm afraid not. Miss Fortune, I hate to ask this, but are you sure you're well? You appear exhausted."

Lily pressed her hand over her eyes for a moment, removing it when she heard the servant Harvey enter. He was pushing a cart on which a silver tea service rested, along with some small sandwiches. "We thought the lady might be hungry, Miss Love."

"How thoughtful, Harvey. Thank Mildred. And ask her to prepare a guest room."

"Oh, I can't stay!" Lily protested.

"You must. You cannot go back to that hotel alone in the dark. Stay the night. I can provide you with nightclothes and anything else you need. In the morning, we can go back into town and look around."

Reluctantly, Lily saw the wisdom in the suggestion. She was tired, and hungry. If Artie and the others went back to the hotel, surely they would see what she had seen, the lights from this house. But why did the clerk tell Artemus to go to the Castillo house and indicate that this house would be his destination? Was there another house…? No. They would have seen it. She sipped from the bracing cup of tea that Agatha had poured and handed to her. Yes, remaining here was the right thing to do. Artemus would find her.

W*W*W*W*W

"Oh my God! My head!"

"Relax, Artie." The familiar voice, coming from—it seemed—a great distance, spoke soothingly. "It'll go away in a while."

Artemus Gordon forced his eyes open against the worst headache he was sure he had ever experienced. He was already aware that when he tried to move a hand to press against his throbbing forehead, the hand could not seem to reach his head. Something was holding it back. The light was very dim, something he was thankful for at the moment. Bright illumination might have been the death of him.

At first everything was blurred and fuzzy. He saw some darker shapes in the faint light, but could not immediately make out what they were. Then, as his vision cleared, he first observed, directly across from him, the unshaven face of his partner, James West. Jim was seated, leaning against a stone wall, his hands raised slightly on either side of him. His wrists, Artie realized, were secured in iron cuffs attached to chains fastened into the stone.

Artemus turned his head, almost too swiftly, and had to close his eyes a moment to fight off the vertigo and nausea, not to mention the suddenly increased throbbing inside his skull. Taking a breath, he opened his eyes to note that his own wrists, as well, were secured in chains that were too short to allow him to reach his head. Off to the left, he saw the equally unshaven face of Jeremy Pike, also seated against the wall, also manacled.

"What… what's going on?"

"Old friend of yours worked a damn clever ruse," Pike said soberly. "Now she's got the both of you, and me to boot."

"She? What… who?" Artemus shifted his gaze to Jim.

"Emma Valentine."

"She's dead!"

Some months ago, the agents had received word that murderess Emma Valentine had escaped from the women's prison to which she had been sentenced for life. They had joined the search for the dangerous female, only to learn that a woman of her description had boarded a steamer in Galveston, heading for Brazil. Not much longer after that, news came that the steamer had been sunk due to, apparently, a boiler explosion. No one survived.

"Well, that's the story she manufactured," Jim responded. "And did it well. But she's upstairs in the big old house, and we're down here. I don't suppose you brought any toys with you."

For the first time Artemus realized that he was in his shirtsleeves, jacket removed. The other two men were clad similarly. "I had some of our favorite kind of buttons on my jacket. Even if I was still wearing it, I doubt I could reach them."

"We figured that's the reason for the short chains," Jeremy offered. "Her men searched us pretty thoroughly, but Emma isn't taking any chances."

"Artie," Jim said, "how did she get you?"

"Well, she didn't. I didn't see Emma Valentine. I came to the house because of the message—which I presume you never sent—to meet you at the Castillo house. He… oh my God! Lily!"

"What?" Both Pike and West spoke in unison.

Artie leaned his head back against the cool stone, staring at the ceiling of the small room. The ceiling was, of course, the floor of the house above, the aged wooden rafters visible. The light came from two small lanterns hanging in upper corners of the room. A small dirty window was high above Jim's head, revealing that darkness had fallen. Artie took a breath, then looked at his fellow agents and captives.

"Lily came with me. She… we wanted some more time together before we both have to return to our jobs. I figured… I knew it was a routine assignment. I left her at the hotel!"

"She'll be all right," Jim assured him firmly. "Don't forget, Emma is pretty big on women's independence. And Lily is about as independent as they come. Emma will like her."

"Yeah." Artie swallowed hard, trying to convince himself of his partner's assurances. "You two… how did you…?"

"Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly." Jeremy's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I don't know who this Romeo Castillo is, or was," Jim said, "but obviously the colonel checked him out before sending us the orders to come meet him. Like you, we went to the hotel, got rooms, and then almost right away got a message to meet Castillo here. We rode up, the door was opened by a short man who obviously liked his food."

Artemus nodded. "I met the friendly fellow myself."

Jeremy took up the story. "We were invited to sit down in the parlor, told that Mr. Castillo was taking his usual afternoon nap and would join us shortly. The butler, or whoever he was, brought us 'refreshments.' Ham sandwiches and excellent whiskey. I don't remember much after that until we woke up down here."

"Familiar story," Artemus said. "Same man met me, took me into the parlor and served whiskey. Said he'd tell you two and Mr. Castillo that I was there. No sandwich. I think I took about two swallows. Don't know what it was, but it was potent." He looked at the two other men. "You've seen Emma Valentine?"

"Oh yeah," Jim responded, shifting his position slightly. His fingers felt numb after the hours of being suspended in the manacles, and the stone floor was damnably hard. "She comes down to tell us what she has in store for us."

"And what's that? Or don't I want to know?"

"Oh, it's very charming," Jeremy replied, "just like the lady. She's going to drown us. At least that's the latest story."

"Drown… how? I don't recall a river or lake in this area. In her bathtub?"

"She claims she has a method to flood this cell with water. Very, very slowly. Seems she was just waiting for you." Jim's words were light, but his expression was hard. They had been imprisoned here for at least two days, and had not begun to come up with a method of escape.

Twice a day, one man at a time was unshackled, taken out of the room to attend to personal needs, and to be fed. The entire time, four guns were trained on them, plus handcuffs were fastened to their wrists, more shackles to their ankles. Both men had futilely hoped that somehow Artemus would not be lured into the trap, all the while knowing that Gordon had no more reason to be suspicious than they had been.

Artie looked around the cell. The walls and floor appeared to be solid rock. Openings where water might be introduced were not visible. The door was heavy wood, with no window in it. "Do you think she's serious?" he asked.

Jim shook his head. "You know what she was like when we captured her in Kansas City. Insane, and full of insane plans. I don't think she's changed. Whether she actually intends to drown us, who knows? Her first story was that we would be hanged. Besides, what difference does the method make?" He could not remember feeling so helpless, so powerless, in a long, long while.

"Jer, you had nothing to do with that case. Why does she want to harm you?"

Pike smiled ruefully. "Guilt by association, it seems."

"I tried to talk Emma into letting Jeremy go," Jim said. "No luck." He gazed somberly at his partner secured on the opposite wall. "Artie, it seems that our only hope at this time is Lily."

So wide shall be the garden-walk,

The garden-seat so very wide,

You needs must think—if you should think—

The lily maid had died.

Elaine — Edna St. Vincent Millay

W*W*W*W*W

"You've been very kind, Miss Love," Lily Fortune smiled across the breakfast table. The smile was weak, for she had slept heavily, and her head ached slightly. The coffee was helping ease the headache, but not the deep concern she was experiencing.

"Not at all. I can't tell you how long it's been since I've had a guest, let alone a very famous guest. I wish I had had an opportunity to see you perform."

"Perhaps someday," Lily murmured.

"Yes. Perhaps. We'll have a hearty breakfast—it's always best to set out on a full stomach—and then we'll stroll into town and see what in goodness name is going on there."

"Thank you. I really cannot understand what has happened to Mr. Gordon and his friends. None of this makes any sense." How many times had she said or thought that?

"I would continue to suggest that you had a vivid dream," Miss Love said, then paused her words while the short, stout woman brought platters of eggs, ham, and potatoes to place before them. "Thank you, Mildred. Miss Fortune, this is my cook and housekeeper, Mildred, we are honored to have Miss Fortune, the famous actress, as our guest."

"Oh yes, ma'am," Mildred beamed. "I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Fortune."

"How do you do," Lily returned, trying not to appear dismayed at the amount of food on her plate. While she was hungry, she was not that hungry. Hard to believe that with her slim shape Miss Love ate like this all the time. Was she trying to impress her guest?

"Now, as I was saying," Agatha Love picked up her fork as the housekeeper departed, "I have thought a great deal about this and I no longer believe you merely dreamed it. That would make no sense. I mean, obviously you arrived in Peacetown by some manner. I certainly cannot understand what became of your fiancé. Er… he is a reliable man, isn't he?"

"Oh, very!" Should I tell her Artemus is a government agent? Not yet. "Mr. Gordon would never have abandoned me like this. Something… something has happened."

"Let us finish our breakfast," Agatha Love spoke encouragingly, "then we'll go into town and see if we can solve this mystery. Perhaps Mr. Gordon and his friends are now at the hotel."

Oh, I hope so! Lily smiled slightly to show her appreciation for the support, but deep within her soul, she knew that Artemus was not waiting at the hotel. He would not have settled in for the night without speaking to her, and upon finding she was absent, he would have launched a search. Jim and Jeremy, if they were with him, would have joined. Eventually, they would have come to this house.

"It must be wonderful to have an independent career," Agatha said then. "I must admit I'm somewhat surprised that you are going to throw it all away for marriage."

"I'm not throwing it away." Lily picked up her cup of coffee and sipped it. "Artemus and I have discussed it thoroughly. He is going to continue his career, and I shall continue mine, so long as I wish."

Miss Love seemed startled by this revelation. "What about children?"

"There will be children," Lily smiled. "And when they come, I will consider leaving the stage. But even that is not definite. A great deal depends on my feelings at the time. Mr. Gordon agrees that it is my decision to make."

The other woman sat back. "My goodness. A man in a million. A billion!"

Now Lily had to laugh. "He wasn't always that way, I must honestly admit. When we first discussed marriage, his idea was that I would leave the stage and remain at home, waiting for him as a dutiful wife—in his opinion—should do. When I made it clear that was not going to be the case, he began to rethink his priorities. Artemus is a stubborn man at times, but an intelligent one. He decided he loved me enough to yield."

A thoughtful expression covered Agatha Love's countenance. "Indeed. Indeed. But what about his friend? Did you say his name was… West?"

"Yes. James West. I think Jim is a bit more traditional in his thoughts, but again, he is not stupid. If and when he would meet the love of his life, and if, like me, she had a career, I'm pretty sure Jim would not be foolish enough to lose her because of his mulishness." What would Jim have done if Cinnia had lived and wanted to remain with the Pinkerton Agency? We'll never know.

"James West," Agatha said slowly. "Is he an actor? I'm certain I've seen his name in the newspaper. Even a picture. Fine-looking man. Very fine."

Lily smiled. "Many women agree with you, Miss Love. Jim is very handsome. Of course, I think my fiancé is very handsome as well."

"Of course!" Agatha Love cried suddenly. "I've seen both their pictures. They are detectives of some sort, aren't they? Quite well known. I don't know why this didn't occur to me before. James West and Artemus Gordon… they work for the government?"

"Yes," Lily admitted. No real harm in telling this lonely, isolated woman the truth. What kind of life did she have here in this deserted town? No wonder she was so anxious to have me remain the night. She must rarely have anyone to even talk to besides her servants! "Artemus and Jim are Secret Service agents. So is their friend, Jeremy Pike, who was with Jim. They came to Peacetown to meet this Romeo Castillo I mentioned. He was supposed to have some important information for them."

"Oh, goodness me! How exciting!" Agatha pressed a hand against her thin bosom. "Secret Service agents in Peacetown! My!"

"And you are certain you never heard of this Mr. Castillo?"

"Oh yes. The name is completely unknown to me. You must realize that I would certainly know if anyone else was living in the town. Harvey makes periodic checks through the town to ensure no vagrants have moved in. The fire danger is very real."

"I can understand that. What happened to the town? Obviously it was thriving at one time."

The older woman sighed dramatically. "It was a lovely town. We had over two hundred residents at the peak. But then the mines gave out."

"Mines?" Lily tried to remember if they had seen any evidence of mining in the area on the ride to Peacetown. "Gold?" She could not recall such signs, and surely Artemus would have commented if they had. He had been pointing out landmarks, natural and otherwise, during the entire ride. Where were these mines?

"No. Silver. The mines are about ten miles from here, in the hills. They were not a big bonanza, but my father and a number of men made a tidy fortune from them. Papa tried to convince the other miners to invest in property, perhaps go into ranching, but they were not interested. With the miners gone, the businesses in town simply… faded away."

"How sad. But you remained?"

"Oh yes. I wouldn't desert Papa. Never. He died ten years ago."

Ten years ago Agatha Love would have been past her prime, but still not ancient. Lily Fortune knew bone structure, and she imagined that before age and, apparently, weather had hardened Agatha's complexion, she would have been a very attractive lady, especially if the now faded hair was the brilliant shade Lily imagined it could have been. Had she forsaken an opportunity to marry due to her devotion to her father?

Harvey brought a carriage around to the front of the house. Like everything else, it was shabby and faded, though the two horses drawing it appeared in fine condition. Lily was glad she did not have to contemplate the long walk uphill from town again. She was also glad that Agatha had not insisted she eat more of her breakfast. Miss Love herself had devoured all that was placed before her. Again Lily wondered if the lavish breakfast had been set to impress a guest, and perhaps Agatha was unaccustomed to eating so well, thus did not want to waste it. If that was the case, Lily experienced a pang of guilt over how much she had left on her plate!

The sun was bright and warm, but Miss Love did not suggest that the bonnet on the carriage be raised. Lily did not mention it, fearful that perhaps that mechanism was damaged, and to bring it up would embarrass her hostess. She was already extremely grateful that Miss Love had so willingly taken her in. Others in the maiden lady's situation might have been suspicious and fearful of a stranger, female or male.

Harvey halted the buggy in front of the hotel, then hopped down from his seat to assist the two ladies to the porch. The hotel door was still standing open; so was the door of the mercantile across the street. Unlike when Lily and Artemus had entered the town, though, not a soul was to be seen.

"The hotel was once a thriving establishment," Agatha sighed as they entered. "And quite lovely too. I hate to see it like this." She halted in the lobby, looking around.

"Why don't you wait on the porch," Lily suggested. "I can look around."

"Oh, I wouldn't think of it! You say a clerk was here yesterday?" Miss Love walked toward the counter. "Goodness, look at the dust!"

Lily moved up alongside the taller woman and stared at the counter. It was covered in a layer of fine dust that Agatha ran a finger through, distaste on her face. Dust that had not been there yesterday, Lily was certain. She almost remarked on that, but remained silent. She knew that Agatha Love still harbored doubts about her story, despite what she said earlier.

Instead, Lily went to the door behind the counter and opened it. As yesterday, it was bare and vacant. Except…. She stared down at the bare wood floor. She had assumed the room had been used as an office at one time. Lily had to admit she had not noticed the dust on the floor in here, but she was fairly certain she would have spotted that boot print if it had been there yesterday, even in the gloom that had pervaded in the late evening. The print of a rather large foot. Not a woman's print, and of a greater size than Harvey wore, she was certain.

"Is anything wrong, dear?" Agatha inquired as Lily stepped out into the lobby again.

"No, nothing," Lily murmured, wondering at her sudden decision to not reveal everything. Something very strange was going on here. She had talked to Artemus and Jim often enough about their cases to know that taking everything at face value was not wise, especially when it came to people. The two agents had told her of persons who had appeared to be perfectly respectable, incapable of doing harm, who turned out to be vicious criminals. Even some females.

"I want to look upstairs again," Lily said, heading for the staircase. At first she thought the other woman was not going to follow, but halfway up the stairs, Lily glanced around and Agatha Love was ascending behind her.

She still had the door key but it was not necessary. The door to the room she had occupied was standing open. Thankfully her portmanteau was still on the floor beside the bed, and her possessions were in the bureau drawers. But Artemus's saddlebags were not! The razor, the one so much like the one she had given Jim for his birthday, was no longer resting on top of the bureau.

"My dear," Agatha said from the doorway in that cultured tone, "you look ghastly, as though you've seen a ghost."

Lily turned, smiling wanly. "I'm not sure what I expected, but I'm pretty certain I did not believe my possessions would still be here."

"Well, it certainly seems to prove you did spend some time here, I'll grant you that!" Agatha Love chuckled dryly.

Lily decided not to comment on the remark. "I'd like to walk around town a little, if you don't mind. I don't know what I will find—if anything—but I feel… Artemus has to be here somewhere." But where? And in what condition? Lily did not want to really think about the possibilities. She only wanted to solve the mystery right now.

W*W*W*W*W

"I've stayed in better hotels," Artemus commented sarcastically, gazing at the glowering man who was refastening the shackles around his wrists while three others held their rifles pointing directly at him, "but I don't recall ever getting so much attention."

"Even better," Jim drawled from the opposite wall, "they don't ask for tips."

With Artemus secured, the men released Jeremy's arms from the wall, fastened cuffs around his wrists and ankles, and escorted him from the cell, closing the door securely. Artemus shook his head as he heard a bar fall into place. "No fun and games with glass-breaking sound this time." The memory of how Emma Valentine had planned to use their hurtling bodies to kill yet another bridegroom was something difficult to forget. He turned his gaze to his partner. "Jim, we have to do something."

"I'm open to suggestions. You have now witnessed the security in force. Did you see an opportunity to act?"

Artie ignored the sharpness in Jim's tone. He knew his partner well, and was aware that the helplessness of their situation was grating on Jim's nerves. Jim West was not accustomed to being so vulnerable, unable to do something about their situation. "Emma is a clever woman," he said quietly. "She's learned from her mistakes."

Jim looked up at the manacles around his wrists. Being released to eat had helped but he knew the numbness would return. He brought his gaze back to Artemus. "I'd sure like to know how she set this trap. Who the devil is Romeo Castillo?"

Artie could only shake his head. "She convinced Richmond of his existence as well as the existence of the papers and information he held. I guess that's all that matters." Artemus's gaze lifted to the roof of their cell. "I wish l knew what was going on with Lily. If she's safe…" The small, dirt-encrusted window revealed that the sun was brightly shining outside.

Once again Jim reassured his partner. "I'm sure Emma knows of Lily's presence, one way or another. If Lily didn't find her way to this house, the hotel clerk would have told Emma Valentine that she had arrived with you. And like I said before, Emma will recognize a kindred soul… an independent woman."

Artie grimaced. "That's where the resemblance ends, thank God."

Jim continued quietly. "I also believe Lily is intelligent enough to eventually realize that Emma… under whatever name and guise she is using… has something to do with your disappearance."

Artemus considered this a moment. The Emma Valentine who had made a brief appearance in this cellar prison earlier this morning was not the Emma Valentine they known in Kansas City. Over a year in prison had taken away much of the polished veneer she had worn when she was using beautiful young women to lure wealthy older men to their deaths. At that time she had been known as a fabulous society hostess, and her demeanor and appearance suited that role. Now her skin was rougher, her hair had lost its sheen, and the clothing was far less fashionable and expensive.

Lily knew the story of Emma Valentine. Artemus had told her, along with other tales of their adventures. Lily loved hearing about them, and frequently said that Artemus should write a book one day detailing their exploits and encounters with criminals. The idea appealed to him, but he knew it was far in the future… if he had a future.

Funny that Jim had such confidence in Lily. Not that I don't. But he sees her differently than I do. Lily is a woman I want to love and cherish… to protect. Sometimes I forget that she is living an adventurous life of her own. Especially since her mother remarried, Lily has been making her own decisions, advancing her career successfully. She had a maid who traveled with her and took care of the possessions that had to go along from city to city, and a lawyer who assisted with contracts and financial matters, but otherwise Lily was in command of her own life.

Finally Artie sighed. "Emma would have to be using a different name. I guess I'm worried about what Emma might do to Lily if…" He didn't really want to put it into words.

"At some point, Lily will have discovered the town is deserted, and perhaps noticed the only sign of life here at the house. Chances are, she came to this house—or perhaps one of the servants 'accidentally' met her in town and brought her here. I'm sure that Lily has identified herself and told Emma why she's here. I'm also sure that Emma is having a wonderful time portraying someone else… being an actress in front of one of the nation's finest and most famous actresses." Jim kept his gaze steadily on his partner. He understood why Artie would be worried. But he also did not want Artie to be distracted with that concern for Lily's safety. An opportunity to escape might present itself, and they all had to be ready.

The cell door opened and Jeremy Pike shuffled in, the chains on his boots clanking, followed by the four armed guards. Nothing was said as Pike was refastened to the wall again. Only when the guards headed for the door did Jeremy call out, "Nice seeing you boys again. Great meal. See you soon."

A couple of the men glanced back, one glaring, the other appearing somewhat puzzled by the prisoner's seemingly cheerful attitude. As the door slammed shut, Pike sighed noisily. "What is that slop they're feeding us?"

"Jerry!" Jim cried in a mocking tone. "Are you disparaging our gourmet meal? Ask Artemus. You won't find a tastier gruel anywhere else."

"Yeah," Artie concurred. "At least it appears to have a tinge of meat flavoring. Not much else."

"I guess I shouldn't complain," Jeremy admitted. "At least we are getting fed."

"But I wonder," Jim said softly, "if Emma's plan is to keep us alive, but barely so. A man cannot subsist on such rations for too long without losing strength."

Artie nodded. "That kind of food, combined with a lack of exercise… how does that tie in with her plan to drown us?"

Now Jim shook his head. "With Emma Valentine , who knows? The drowning business likely was just to keep us worried, until she comes up with another scheme. Could be she intends to starve us to death… slowly."

"You have such cheerful thoughts, James," Jeremy commented. He looked toward the ceiling. "Do you suppose Lily is up there?"

"If you are asking if I sense her presence," Artie responded, "the answer is no. Our relationship hasn't advanced that far. But she has to be somewhere nearby, whether she's staying here at the house or chose to remain at the hotel. I'm thinking, however, that because she would need food, not to mention company, she has met our hostess by now. That's about all I can surmise."

W*W*W*W*W

Lily stood on the porch of the house, staring at the town below her. She was unsure of what she was looking for, watching for. The town was empty. A ghost town… with not even any ghosts. Agatha Love had patiently accompanied her through one building after another, finding only dust and cobwebs. Even the mercantile bore no signs of recent inhabitants. The only evidence that anyone had been in the town recently was the luggage and clothing that had remained in Lily's hotel room, along with the items that had vanished… and the footprint.

I can't make out exactly what Miss Love thinks of all this, whether she truly believes me or believes I'm insane. As far as that goes…

Lily shook her head. No. She had not imagined all of it. Any of it. She had ridden into Peacetown with Artemus. And now, Artemus was missing, as were Jim and Jeremy. What could have happened to them? Had some outlaw gang carried them off? If so, why? Where? Miss Love said no one had been in the area for weeks. Where was Romeo Castillo? Who was Romeo Castillo?

What was certain was that Miss Love had refused to allow her guest take the horse and buggy to travel to the nearest town, about twenty miles north, to seek official help. "You can't go alone, my dear, and my health will not allow me to take such a journey." That claim about ill health surprised Lily a great deal, considering not only the meals she had seen her hostess consume, but the manner in which she had hiked from one end of town to another earlier today.

Agatha Love also declined to allow Harvey to accompany Lily on such a journey, stating she needed his services at the house. "Just be patient. Your fiancé will appear. I'm certain of it. He could not have deserted such a lovely lady as you."

Lily turned her back to the railing and gazed at the walls of the old house. The nearest window was covered inside by fading drapes, but Lily knew the window was in the main parlor. Miss Love was in there—or she had been earlier—reading a book of poems, claiming she needed to relax before the midday meal after the morning's exercise.

Something is wrong here. But what is it? Is she simply an eccentric spinster, worn down by the years of caring for her late father, of seeing their town fall into ruins, with nowhere to go, no friends or kin…?

Restlessly pacing the length of the porch, watching for loose boards as she did, Lily continued to review and review again the events that had occurred from the moment she and Artemus had ridden into town. Nothing made sense. Everything had seemed so normal, or as normal as a dying town could be. Neither she nor Artemus had had reason for concern, only the desire for some rest, food… and that hot bath.

Lily smiled slightly. At least Agatha had promised her a hot bath later this evening. Seems preparing one was quite a chore, as the house had nothing resembling indoor plumbing. Harvey would be carrying buckets to a boiler, and when the water was heated, he would then tote the bucketsful of steaming water to porcelain tub in a small room Agatha had informed Lily was on the first floor. At least, Agatha had assured her, the water could be drained from there to the outside, relieving Harvey of the chore.

But what am I to do? I can't remain here idly while Artemus, Jim, and Jeremy are missing. I know for certain that Artemus was here. He was with me! I have only the so-called desk clerk's word that Jim and Jeremy were also in Peacetown.

So many thoughts about what had happened, what could have happened, continued to crowd through her mind. In the months since she had become reacquainted—and fell in love again—with Artemus Gordon, he had regaled her with the adventures he and Jim shared, often laughing at their close brushes with death. He had never directly said it, but she knew they were both aware that their luck could end at any time. Lily thought that Artie told her these stories for two reasons. One was to reveal just what sort of life he lived, and the other was to prepare her for such an eventuality—as well as to give her an opportunity to change her mind.

As if that will ever happen! Once Lily Fortune made up her mind—as had occurred when she determined to seek a career on the stage—she rarely backed down. They had not said the vows yet, but they may as well have as far as she was concerned: Till death do us part.

But where was he? Where were they? If Artemus was able, he would have either come back to her, or sent her word. The fact that he had simply vanished, along with his friends, meant something had happened. But what? If the only residents of this town were Agatha Love and her two servants…

But that's not true. I saw the men on the street, the desk clerk…and the footprint in the room behind the lobby desk. Despite having no clear memory of noticing or not noticing it yesterday, Lily was all but certain the print had not been there at that time.

Again Lily paused at the railing to gaze down on the town. The late morning sun was glinting off windows, but all was still. No one was there now, she was fairly certain. However, yesterday she had seen several men walking or lounging along the board walkways. At least three. A couple of horses, besides the pair she and Artemus had ridden, had been tethered on the dusty street. Although she had not stared, she had caught glimpse of a woman at the mercantile…

Lily's hands suddenly gripped the railing hard, the peeling paint and rough wood biting into her palms. A short, stout woman had been standing in the doorway of the mercantile. Of that she was certain. A short, stout woman very much like Mildred. Was that possible? Had Mildred been at the store making a purchase…?

No. Lily brushed that thought from her mind immediately. When she entered the mercantile this morning, all the shelves had been empty. They had been empty for a long time, judging by the dust and cobwebs.

This just doesn't make sense! How would Mildred be involved unless… unless Miss Love was also involved. But that makes even less sense! A lady like Agatha Love…

Who might well be insane. Lily took a deep breath. She had been accepting things at face value, grateful for the shelter, not to mention the company, Miss Love offered. What would make sense would be if, somehow, for some reason, Agatha was involved in the mystery. But… how?

I've got to play detective. I've got to remember some of what Artemus and Jim have told me about their cases, and how they dug for information, put pieces of puzzles together to find the culprit and solve crimes. I need to engage Miss Love in conversation and listen carefully for anomalies, for facts and statements that don't line up.

Taking another deep breath, composing herself as though she was about to go onstage, Lily went to the front door and stepped into the entryway. Miss Love was not in the parlor where Lily had last seen her. Pausing in the hallway again, Lily listened to the silence in the old house, finally deciding she was hearing voices or movement in the dining area. Mildred and Harvey might be setting the table for lunch, and if Agatha was not there, they would likely know where she was.

W*W*W*W*W

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,

Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.

The Mourning Bride [1697], Act III, Sc. 8, William Congreve (1670-1729)

"Gentlemen!" Emma Valentine spoke the word brightly as she paused in the middle of the cell, looking at each one in turn. "I cannot express how delighted I am to have your company again."

"Not mine," Jeremy deadpanned. "We had never met before."

"Well, that's true. But I always say, three handsome men is better than two." Emma giggled a little. "I do hope you are well. I'm sorry I cannot offer you razors to clear the stubble off your striking jaws, but… well, I don't think that would be a good idea. Besides, it makes no difference. The public will never see you again."

"Still thinking of treating us to a permanent bath?" Artemus inquired.

She turned her gaze to him, frowning. "Bath? What…"

"The drowning," Jim reminded her. "When you first brought Mr. Pike and myself here, you said you were going to hang us, but then changed it to drowning."

Emma stared. She seems genuinely confused, Jim thought.

"Mr. West, I think you have been dreaming. I wouldn't do such a terrible thing to you." Stepping toward him, she leaned slightly to touch her finger to his face, tracing the bewhiskered jaw line. Jim held himself still, fighting the urge to jerk away. "Oh, Mr. West. Do you remember the hours we spent together? I do. I shall never forget." Her eyes held a dreamy expression, the smile simpering.

"We could repeat those hours," Jim spoke softly, "if you free my arms."

Immediately she drew back, eyes narrowing. "You had your chance, James West, and you rejected me. I am not in the habit of offering second opportunities."

Now she sounds like the old Emma Valentine, even if she doesn't look like it. The Emma he had known would have died rather than garb herself in the plain gown she wore now, her hair faded and poorly coifed. No maids or hairdressers here.

"So what's our fate?" Artemus asked. "If not drowning, what? Gas? Poison? Starvation?"

Emma turned toward him. "Don't be so anxious, Mr. Gordon. Enjoy your stay in my… ah… little hotel. Miss Fortune has been delighted with my hospitality."

Artie stiffened. "If you harm her…"

Emma Valentine laughed merrily. "Harm her! Of course not. I expect that once she gets over mourning you, she and I will become great friends. I am sure we are of a like mind where the status of women are concerned."

Don't bet on it! Artemus clamped his jaw tight to prevent himself from blurting the words aloud. At least Lily was currently safe, especially so long as Emma believed they were sisters under the skin.

"I am sure Lily is just now waiting for me upstairs, to join me for lunch. We have much to talk about." Emma went to the closed door, pausing to look back at her trio of prisoners thoughtfully. "I think poison gas. Yes. Poison gas that will cause a slow and agonizing death. Ta-ta, gentlemen." She swept out of the room as regally as she had when arranging for Michele's marriage to millionaire Paul J. Lambert.

"Jim!" Jeremy spoke as soon as the door slammed shut, "you and that…?"

Jim smiled, shaking his head. "No. It's all in her imagination."

"She's crazier now than she was before, Jim," Artie stated.

"Yeah, I noticed that. She seems to waver between the present and the past, with some wild fantasies in there."

"Seems we're not going to be drowned after all," Pike commented.

"Poison gas." Artemus shook his head. "She's insane. I hate the thought of Lily being…" He could not finish his thought.

"Sounds as though as long as Lily doesn't display skepticism about Emma's ideas, she'll be all right," Jeremy put in.

"Or realizes who Emma is," Jim said quietly.

W*W*W*W*W

Finding the dining room empty, Lily hesitated a moment, then started toward the double-hinged door she knew opened into the kitchen. As she put a hand on the door, she heard voices. For just one instant, realizing the voices were men's, her heart leapt with the idea that Artemus and his friends were just on the other side. She realized immediately that none of the voices she was hearing belonged to her fiancé or the other two agents.

Who? Agatha Love stated no one lived her except herself and the servants!

Remembering her hostess's comments, Lily backed away from the door, then hurried back toward the front of the house, her heart pounding, all composure momentarily lost. On the broad front veranda again she once more took deep breaths and collected herself.

What was going on here? Why would Agatha Love lie about such a thing? Of course, perhaps the men, whoever they are, just arrived and… Lily quickly shook that thought away. If that had been the case, if no reason existed to hide those men, Agatha would have introduced them to her other guest.

Lily knew now that the thoughts she had been suppressing almost from the first moment she entered this house were probably true. Difficult to believe that a lady like Agatha Love, with an obvious background of education and culture, would be involved in the disappearance of three secret service agents, but what other explanation was there now?

I mustn't jump to conclusions. I certainly cannot come out and accuse Agatha of such an act. I have to find out more about what's going on, if anything. If Artie, Jim, and Jeremy are here… were here…

One more deep breath and a reminder to herself about her profession and her abilities, and Lily Fortune reentered the house. Agatha was still not present, but Lily went into the larger parlor and seated herself, picking up a book from a table to leaf through it, discovering the romantic poetry of Shakespeare's sonnets. A few moments later, she heard footsteps in the hallway, and Agatha Love entered.

"Miss Fortune, I am so sorry to have deserted you."

Lily smiled. "Don't worry. I am fine. Is everything all right?"

Agatha seated herself. "Oh yes. Mildred was undecided what to prepare for lunch, and wanted to discuss it with me. Unfortunately, it means the meal will be a little late."

"Don't worry. After that fine breakfast, I am not starving." Lily laughed lightly. But who else was in the kitchen? This proves that she has something to hide. What? Artemus? Where? Why? Lily kept a pleasant expression on her face as the thoughts whirled through her head. "Miss Love, are you certain you cannot spare Harvey to drive me to…"

Agatha was waving a dismissive hand. "Out of the question, Miss… do you mind if I call you Lily? I feel so close to you, as though I've known you for ages."

"Of course," Lily murmured. "But…"

Again the older woman interrupted. "Lily dear, if Harvey left, Mildred and I, two helpless females, would be completely alone. No, I think you must be patient. Either your wayward fiancé will return—with some fantastic story I'm sure—or else another wayfarer will pass through who will be able to either carry a message for you, or even transport you. Now I have a question for you."

"Yes?" Lily could only wonder what kind of protection Harvey could provide against determined invaders.

"What is your opinion of the state of women in this age?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you agree that women are downtrodden by men?"

"Well… yes… to some extent. If they choose to be."

"Choose? You think it's a matter of choice?" Agatha's eyes flashed.

"Well, no. No, not entirely. It's just that… well, there are women who feel that their role of subservience to men is the only and proper role. And there are men who believe that as well. But also," Lily hastened on, "there are men like my fiancé who have become enlightened."

The expression on Agatha's face was close to a sneer. "That's what he would like you to believe, my dear. But all men are the same. What a different world this would be if women were in command."

"In some countries, women are in power. Queen Victoria…"

Once more Agatha's waving hand stopped her. "Yes, the great British empire. But you notice, all her advisors are male. I would not make that mistake. My staff will be female."

"Will be?" Lily opened her eyes wide, and hoped that the knot that was forming in her stomach was not being displayed on her face.

Agatha Love laughed merrily, apparently not noticing anything amiss. "Oh, I get carried away at times. I meant 'would be,' of course. I once had grand illusions of being president of these United States. My father humored me, and we had long discussions about politics and government. But like all men, he never truly believed that a female was capable of intelligence, let alone of holding office." The laughter faded, her eyes and face hardening with angry memories.

Before Lily could respond, Harvey appeared in the doorway to announce the midday meal was ready. As she accompanied Agatha Love to the dining room, Lily realized she was going to have to put on one of the greatest performances of her career to simply appear to enjoy lunch and above all to swallow the food.

Emma Valentine! She's Emma Valentine! Artemus and Jim told me about her mad plans to take over the country and rule with women. And now that I consider, Artie once showed me an old newspaper photograph. Her appearance has altered, but I can see it now. Oh my God! She wants vengeance…!

But if Emma Valentine had captured the three agents, where were they? Somewhere in this house? In the town? They had pretty much scoured the town, entering every building. But thus far, I've seen very little of this house, only the parlors, the dining room, and my room upstairs. What was in the other rooms, in the basement? Lily was certain a cellar existed; she had seen a dusty window along the foundation of the house.

She chatted lightly with her hostess through the meal, managing to chew and swallow her food, hardly knowing what she was eating. Agatha—or Emma—did not again bring up the subject of the power of women, or their lack of power. Lily told her about the young ladies' academy she had attended at her mother's behest, and Emma responded by relating her own education, which was quite extensive. She seemed to forget herself momentarily, mentioning that she became a well-known society hostess.

She then laughed self-consciously. "Well, as well-known as one could become in a town like Peacetown. But we did have some gay parties here."

Lily smiled. "I can imagine. This is a beautiful house."

"It once was. It's quite faded as you can see. I've never lost hope that I might restore it one day."

Lily kept her eyes downcast, concentrating on cutting the slice of roast on her plate. She wondered briefly if this house, this town, was indeed Emma Valentine's childhood home. Not that it mattered. She was using this as her base, having lured Artemus and Jim… and Jeremy. The men's voices I overheard must be her accomplices. How many?

The meal finished, Lily excused herself, saying she wanted to take a walk. Emma Valentine did not appear to notice anything amiss, simply expressing that she hoped her guest would have a nice walk, and urging her to not worry too much about her fiancé. "I am just so certain that he's fine, Lily. And he'll show up soon."

Lily first strolled casually through the overgrown rosebushes at the front of the house, stopping to sniff at a few of the blooms. She stood for long moments gazing off into space, as though in deep contemplation. Several times she glanced toward the house, but could see no one at a window watching her. Finally she slowly walked around the side of the building, to where she had seen the window in the stone foundation.

To her great disappointment, Lily found she was not only unable to open the small window, but it was too dirty to see through, with much of the dirt on the inside so she could not rub it off. She continued to stroll idly until she had circled the house, resisting the temptation to enter the stables behind the house, primarily because the edifice was in view of the kitchen window through which Mildred or Harvey might be able to see her. Not to mention it occurred to Lily that the men whose voices she had heard might be lodged in those stables.

I wish I could whistle like Jim! If Blackjack is in the stable, he might respond!

Frustrated, Lily returned to the front of the house and sat on a battered rocker on the porch for awhile, expecting her hostess to emerge. When she did not, Lily got to her feet and started walking down the path toward town, again fully anticipating being called back. Was no one watching? Or was Emma unconcerned?

Both, Lily mused sourly as she turned back to the house before going a hundred feet down the rutted lane. They probably know I can't escape. I can't set out on foot. We noticed no sign of habitation, no houses, not even any side roads, for over fifteen miles on the ride here. Besides, I know Artemus is here somewhere. Dead or alive, he is here and I must find him!

W*W*W*W

"I'm positive," Artemus said firmly.

Jim exchanged a glance with Jeremy before he spoke. "Artie, you saw someone at the window. No way to know for certain it was Lily."

"It was a woman," Artie returned. "I saw the small hand, trying to brush off the dirt."

"Could have been Emma," Jeremy offered. "Or that cook she mentioned."

"Why would either of them be trying to clean off a spot in that window?" Artie countered. "No, it was Lily."

"If it was," Jim spoke slowly, "if it was, that might mean she's starting to look around."

"Yes. And I have decidedly mixed feelings about that!" Artemus looked up toward the small window again. Not only was it filthy, but nailed shut. Only way to open it would be to noisily break it. He had had a brief notion of calling out when he spied the shadows there, but had thought better of it. They had no way of knowing whether all or any the four men who acted as their guards during mealtime lingered outside the closed door of their cell. If so, the yell would have been heard, and possibly exposed Lily to danger.

"What could she do?" Jeremy asked quietly. "We know Emma has at least four men here, plus the two servants."

Jim was watching his partner. He understood Artemus's feelings. On the one hand Artie wished Lily was hundreds of miles away at this moment. Yet, like the other two agents, Artie realized that Lily might be their only chance. The question Jeremy asked was more than valid: what could Lily do? Her talents as an actress might serve her in good stead if indeed she has realized who her hostess was. But Lily had no training nor experience to deal with someone like Emma Valentine.

W*W*W*W*W

Woman will be the last thing civilized by man.

—George Meredith (1828-1909), British author

"Agatha, I've been doing a great deal of thinking about what you said earlier."

Emma Valentine lifted her head from the book she was reading as Lily spoke. "Really? What was that?"

Lily seated herself in a chair in the small parlor. "When you spoke about how women are downtrodden by men. I suppose I've realized it for a long while, but just never gave it much thought. I've made my way in the world, and I imagined that any woman could, if she wanted to."

Emma put the book aside, the same one Lily had been perusing earlier, Shakespeare's Sonnets. "And so they could, my dear. If men would allow it. Your father…?"

"Died when I was a girl. I was raised by my mother, who had, and has, very traditional ideas. She sent me to a fine female college after I finish high school, with the idea that I would polish my manners as well as meet the sisters of well-to-do young men. I'm afraid that rather than absorbing all the niceties that the wife of a socially prominent man should know, such as serving tea and handling servants, I became acquainted with a society on campus that liked to put on plays—comedies and drama—and soon realized that was what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to be an actress."

Emma leaned forward slightly. "Your mother objected, I presume."

"Oh yes. She fought me tooth and nail, then insisted on accompanying me when I managed to find roles, certain that I was mingling with debauched sinners. If she had not met and married a fine man, she would likely be with me here today!" Lily laughed merrily, then sobered abruptly. "I should not be feeling so gay when the man I love may be in danger."

Emma waved that imperious hand. "Oh, nonsense, Lily. I am very certain that Mr. Gordon and his friends are off somewhere having a good time, with no thought of the worry they might be causing you. Men are like that you know."

"Perhaps," Lily murmured, looking down at her hands, folded in her lap. Then she looked up. "I'm surprised that you are living here rather than out joining up with the women who are fighting for women's suffrage and other rights."

Emma's expression hardened. "I worked hard for a world that would recognize the worth of females. I would have changed history!"

Lily widened her eyes. "What happened?"

The older woman opened her mouth, then suddenly clamped it shut. "That's in the past," she said after a moment. "So, are you giving up searching for Mr. Gordon?"

"No. Not entirely. I'm rather… well, hampered at the moment." Lily smiled slightly. "I understand your reasons for not wishing me to take your carriage, with or without Harvey. So I guess all I can do is follow your other suggestion, that I wait and watch for another traveler. Do they come through here frequently?"

"It varies. One never knows from day to day."

Now Lily leaned back in her chair with a loud sigh, throwing her arms out slightly, palms up, and glancing down at her attire. "The problem is, my wardrobe is rather sparse currently! I have only what I was wearing yesterday and the items in my bag. I'm afraid I'm not accustomed to such deprivation!"

"Don't fret, my dear. You may have noticed that my gowns are not exactly haute couture. Mildred will be happy to launder your clothes."

Lily saw the shadow of bitterness that washed through Emma Valentine's eyes as she mentioned her garb. Artemus had described the fabulous gowns he and Jim had witnessed her wearing at the time of their encounter with her. Beautiful dresses, jewels, her hair coifed by an expert… what a change in her lifestyle. One could almost understand why she would despise the agents who were responsible—in her mind—for taking that away from her.

Except she was a cold-blooded murderess. I need to keep reminding myself of that. Despite how charming and generous she may appear, she is Emma Valentine. And if Artemus, Jim, and Jeremy are still alive, the chances are very strong that they are in her hands. But where? How can I trick her into revealing such information?

"I don't want to make extra work for Mildred," she said aloud. "I can do my own laundry if Mildred does not mind allowing me to use her kitchen sink. When I was first starting out, seeking fame and fortune on the stage, Mother and I often had to take care of our own clothing. I haven't forgotten how."

"I'm afraid Mildred is very territorial where her kitchen and laundry concerned, Lily. Even I tread lightly in there." Emma smiled with some chagrin.

Yet several men were in that hallowed room earlier. "Oh, I see. If you don't mind, perhaps I'll speak to her later." Lily laughed a little deprecatingly. "You see, I'm afraid I'm also going to be very restless. I'm not accustomed to idleness. Had I known I would have this free time, I would have brought the script to my next play with me."

"Of course you may speak to Mildred," Emma replied, a shade of tartness in her tone. "But don't be surprised if she shoos you out."

"Yes, I see." Lily gazed around. "In that event, do you mind if I explore this lovely house? I promise I won't disturb anything."

"Certainly you may," Emma replied, the pleasant tone returning. "Many of the rooms have been closed off, so they'll be stale and dusty. But explore to your heart's content."

Not the answer I wanted, Lily fretted. She had hoped that Emma Valentine would come up with some reason why she should not roam through the empty rooms, thus indicating that something might be in those rooms that she did not want discovered.

"Thank you," Lily replied, getting to her feet. "Perhaps I'll do some of it now, so that if I become grimy I'll then be able to lave the dust away in my bath."

"Excellent idea. I would come with you but I need to speak to Mildred and Harvey about menus. Enjoy yourself."

Leaving the room, Lily slowly climbed the stairs, fighting the sense of frustration. Was it possible she was completely wrong, that this woman was not Emma Valentine, that she truly did not know the whereabouts, or fate, of the three men? No. No, I'm certain she is Emma. And the only possible reason for the disappearance of those men was that Emma had hand in it. It certainly could explain her voracious appetite, after months of prison food!

Miss Valentine had no qualms about her guest roaming the upper story of the house, apparently not even the attic, for Lily found the door to those stairs unlocked. She returned to the theory that the men were being held elsewhere, perhaps the stable… or the cellar. Lily remembered the crusty window. What would she see if she could remove some of that dirt, or even break the window.

I can't break it. The noise of breaking glass would be heard easily, I'm sure. And if Artemus is not here in the house or the stable, where could he be? In the town somewhere?

Despite she had entered virtually every building this morning, that did not mean the trio were not there. She had not inspected cellars, nor even every room in every building. All she really noticed was that, like the hotel, dust lay everywhere. But did that mean anything? Dust had been on the floors and counter of the hotel this morning, when none had been visible yesterday.

No. Except for going into town with me this morning, Emma has not left this house. She displayed no unease when I entered the various buildings in town. Although I did not realize who she was at the time, I do know she was perfectly relaxed with me searching through the buildings in town. She's also fine that I wander through the house.

The hideout had to be nearby. Lily refused to even consider that the three men had been killed, their bodies disposed of somewhere. Call it woman's intuition. Call it what one may. I know Artemus is alive. I know that Emma Valentine would not have murdered Jim—and Jeremy—without having Artie in her hands first.

So it had to be either the cellar or the stable. And somehow she had to find a way to inspect those places.

W*W*W*W*W

A woman always has her revenge ready.

Tartuffe [1667], Act II, Sc. 2, Jean Baptiste Moliére (1622-1673)

"Gentlemen! It's so good to see you relaxed and comfortable in your luxurious surroundings!"

"And we thank you so much for the excellent accommodations, Miss Valentine," Artie cracked, looking up at the woman who had entered the dim cellar.

"Nothing but the best, Mr. Gordon," she purred, hands clasped gracefully at her waist as she studied each man in turn.

"What's on the docket this evening?" Jim asked sardonically. "Have you finally decided on the method of our deaths?"

Emma tittered. "You know, I have never been so indecisive in my life. Every time I start to imagine a most delicious manner of your demise, I come up some something even better. I hope you're not in a hurry."

"Take your time, take your time," Jim reassured her. "We're quite happy in the present circumstances."

"And I do enjoy having your company," the woman gloated. "To think, I shall go down in history as the one who finally conquered the great James West."

"Hey, what about me?" Jeremy complained. "Don't I rate a boast?"

"Oh, to be sure, Mr. Pike. But you and I do not have the history that Mr. West and I have had. And Mr. Gordon to a slightly lesser degree. Oh, Mr. Gordon, I almost forgot to mention." She fastened her gaze on Artemus. "Your delightful fiancée and I have become such excellent friends. I knew she was intelligent, and she's come to understand and agree with my point of view. I have no doubt that we will be working together in the future."

Artie almost snapped out some furious curse, but caught his partner's sharp glance. Jim was right. Emma was trying to upset him, and to lash out would be a victory for her. Instead he spoke mildly. "I have always known that Lily is a bright woman. She could not have attained her status as a stage actress if she were not."

If Emma was disappointed in his reaction, she did not show it. "We had a lovely chat this afternoon, and continued it during dinner. Lily has come to see that she was wrong to put her trust in a man… a man who has deserted her."

Again Artemus figuratively, and almost literally, bit his tongue. "I should think you ought to come up with a way to express your gratitude to me for bringing her here."

"Oh, I shall. Indeed I shall." Emma glanced up at the ceiling. "Just now, Miss Fortune is enjoying a hot bath, almost directly above us. So near… yet so far." The smile she bestowed on Artemus was filled with malice. "You gentlemen will go to your graves knowing you have been bested by a woman. And to think, Mr. West, you had opportunity to be part of my plan of taking control of this nation. You could have been my consort. But you foolishly rejected that opportunity."

"Is there still no such thing as a second chance?" Jim smiled.

For just one instant, Emma Valentine stared at him with some consternation. Then the hard expression returned. "Not where you are concerned, Mr. West." She touched a thoughtful finger to her chin. "I believe I know how I'll do it. Poison. You, Mr. West, will be the last one, after you've watched your friends suffer a most horrible death."

"You paint such a pretty picture, Miss Valentine," Jim replied serenely.

"The real question is when," Emma continued, her smile growing. "When will one of you return from your sumptuous feast, only to experience agonizing pain, caused by the extra 'spice' in your stew?"

"Stew?" Jeremy exclaimed. "Is that what that slop is?"

"I shall pass on your compliment to the cook. I'm sure it will inspire her to greater efforts. Now I must return to the house before dear Lily completes her ablutions. I'm afraid she's not ready to learn the real truth about her absent lover."

The three men were silent for a long moment after the door closed behind Emma Valentine. Jeremy was the one who broke it with a mutter. "Great. Now we have to wonder whether this threat is the real one."

"It's not," Jim assured him.

Both of his companions looked his way, and Artie asked, "How do you know?"

"She's not through toying with us yet. She's having too damned much fun."

"That should play in our favor," Jeremy said. "The more time that passes, the greater the odds that Colonel Richmond will be sending someone to look for us."

Artie looked toward the ceiling of their prison. Was Lily really up there? Was she safe? Lily would have no idea who her hostess was. Undoubtedly Emma used a fictitious name when she introduced herself to Lily. Although Lily knew the story of their encounter with the vicious Miss Valentine, she had never met the woman.

W*W*W*W*W

Women find their inspiration in the stress of moments that

for us are merely awful, absurd, or futile.

—Joseph Conrad (1857-1924), British author

Lily Fortune had placed the pins and combs firmly into her thick, dark tresses, holding the long strands in a reasonably neat and somewhat fashionable coif, the best she could manage by herself. Although she felt a great deal better after the hot bath, she wished she could have washed her hair at the same time. Being that she had taken the bath in the late evening, after dinner, aware of how long it took her thick mane of hair to dry, she had decided against it, settling for a brisk session with the hairbrush.

Just now she lay in her bed in the dark, the blankets covering her form, yet fully clad beneath them. Last night she had slept extremely soundly, especially considering the state of her mind. She had expected to lay awake worrying about Artemus and his friends, but had found her eyelids rapidly becoming too heavy to hold open. Only after she came to the realization of the true identity of her hostess did Lily consider that the tea she consumed before bedtime last night might have contained something foreign. Something that had caused her to sleep abnormally deeply.

The steaming bath this evening had not only cleansed her skin, but permitted a long and quiet time to think. In particular she had considered what had occurred when she had gathered a change of clothes and gone downstairs to seek that bath. "Agatha Love" had told her that the bathing room was located next to the kitchen, thus Lily had presumed that one would need to go through the kitchen to get to it.

Entering the dining room, she had approached the double-hinged swinging door that opened into the kitchen, barely placing her hand on that door when Harvey rushed in behind her. "Miss Fortune! Not that way!" His tone had been frantic, and as Lily turned toward him, she gained the impression that had she not halted, he would have physically seized her arm. His eyes were wide with what she could only describe as fear.

Lily had put her skills into action at that moment, displaying only confusion but no alarm, as though she had not noticed his agitation. She laughed and apologized, asked him to guide her to the bath room. He had done so, leading her down the dim hallway passed the staircase to a narrow passage that opened into a storage room, through which another door allowed entry into the room with a tiled floor and the large claw-footed porcelain tub.

The vessel had been already filled with steaming hot water, and Harvey remained only long enough to explain to her how she could drain that water by pulling the cork plug in the bottom of the tub. He then hurried away. Lily had latched that door, and bemusedly studied the door on the other side of the room.

That door had to have entered into the kitchen, as near as I can figure the layout of the house! So why had Harvey shown such consternation? Why had Emma Valentine previously informed her that the kitchen was more or less off limits, giving Mildred's supposed territoriality as an excuse. Who were the men whose voices I heard earlier?

One other thing she had discovered while in the bath room was that the small curtained window overlooked the rear of the house, with a view of the stables. Lily had several times carefully peered through a crack she made by parting the curtain, to be rewarded at one point with the sight of the leg and boot of a man closing the smaller stable door behind him as he entered.

The only other man supposedly on the premises was Harvey, and not only did he not wear boots, but the leg Lily had seen was clad in denim. Had to have been one of the men she heard earlier. Obviously those men were Emma Valentine's cronies, hired men perhaps, and even more obviously, Emma did not want their presence made known to her unexpected guest.

Lily had dressed carefully in the scant items she had brought in the portmanteau, fastening a round gold brooch to the neck of the white shirtwaist she had donned. Artemus had given her the beautifully etched pin last Christmas. The design was a lily. Her thoughts had not been on the precious gift, but on the kitchen. What is in that room that I am not supposed to see?

She had taken a long look at herself in the beveled mirror over the dressing table, nodding in self-approval, desiring to look as "normal" as possible, to present herself not only as refreshed by the bath, but also that she was accepting "Agatha's" admonitions about her missing sweetheart. She had needed to display a certain amount of worry, along with a bit of anger, and as well, admire her hostess's sagacity and strength. As far as she could tell, Emma was accepting her ruse.

She and Emma Valentine had had a long discussion at dinner, with Emma continuing to espouse her beliefs about how women could make the world better. She never quite stated how she had once intended to take over the country by acquiring massive wealth through murder, yet Lily saw the gleam of madness in the eyes of the woman across from her.

Lily continuously reminded herself to be careful while in Emma Valentine's presence. So careful! I think she believed I'm swallowing all that she has been telling me, including that she has no knowledge of the whereabouts of Artemus Gordon, James West, and Jeremy Pike. I hope nothing I did would allow her to think otherwise. I need her trust for this night at least, to allow me to do some exploring and searching. I have no doubt now that the razor I found in the hotel room was Jim's!

The earlier tour of the house's upstairs and attic had revealed nothing but old, faded furnishings. The rooms were surprisingly free of dust and Lily could only surmise that the closed windows which created the mustiness in the rooms also kept out much of the dust. Perhaps Mildred found time to use the feather duster upon occasion as well.

Lily continually thought about the window to the cellar. Was something—someone—down there, on the other side of that grimy aperture? Other than the stable, that seemed a logical place. She had no idea how to gain access to the cellar, although suspicions were growing that it would be through the kitchen, and that that was at least one reason why she was not permitted to enter that room. Another reason must exist, Lily decided. Surely just the sight of a closed cellar door could not be considered a reason for Harvey to panic simply because she nearly entered the kitchen. Could it be the fear that I might accidentally come upon one or more of the other "guests" of this house?

When she had gone back downstairs after dressing, she found Emma in the parlor, again reading her book of romantic poetry. Odd reading material for a woman who claimed to decry all notions of agreement between the sexes. Yet Lily had taken advantage to open a conversation about literature and poetry. Eventually the talk had reverted to Emma's favorite subject, however, the idea of how women would be better suited to govern, and once more hinting that she herself was the perfect candidate to rule.

As before, Lily pretended not to notice the number of times Emma stated "I will…" or "I shall…" She also ignored it when Emma made a slip about men who had disrupted her grand plans. Emma noticed it however and quickly rushed on, diverting the subject slightly. She also made some rather bitter remarks about her beloved "Papa."

Lily had been very careful to barely sip the tea Harvey served and Emma poured. When Emma's attention had been distracted for a moment by the book that slipped from her lap to the floor, Lily took advantage and poured most of her tea into a potted plant near her chair. Not long afterwards, she yawned and claimed weariness, realizing that on the previous night that had been exactly what occurred. She had suddenly experienced extreme fatigue and "Agatha" had escorted her upstairs to show her the room she was to occupy.

This evening, she had made appropriate noises in her room to suggest she was preparing for bed, while changing back into her riding, just in case anyone was listening outside the closed door. She placed her boots on the floor beside the bed before climbing under the blankets. If anyone peeked in, they would not be surprised that her discarded clothing was not visible; they would have been hung in the big walnut wardrobe.

The darkness was complete, but the house was not entirely silent yet. Lily heard doors opening and closing, mostly downstairs, though no voices filtered to her. She could only guess that the man—or men—whom she heard, and saw, were in the house, perhaps eating or relaxing in one of the parlors. Was that another reason why she was not allowed in the kitchen, that she might espy Mildred preparing more food than was necessary for the two women?

Holding onto her patience was becoming more and more difficult, but in the end Lily was glad she had had the fortitude to do so, because shortly after the big grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway chimed midnight, she heard a sound outside her door. She snuggled down in her blankets, using some of the coverings to conceal a portion of her hair, which was still pinned up, and kept her eyes securely closed.

The door opened quietly. Through her lids, Lily caught the faint gleam of light, and smelled the odor of burning coal oil. Someone, undoubtedly Emma Valentine, was checking on her! After a moment the door closed and the darkness was complete again. Lily heard the door down the hallway open and close. She continued to wait.

One thing she had noticed during the time she spent with Emma in the parlor this evening was the dust on the other woman's shoes and skirt hem. Lily was certain the grime had not been there earlier and did not look like the type of dirt one might pick up outside, appearing more damp. Emma had gone somewhere while her guest was bathing, and Lily had a strong suspicion that the destination had been the cellar.

I must not get my hopes up, Lily cautioned herself as she sat up, pushing the blanket back. I also must be prepared for… whatever I find. Though it seemed unlikely that Emma would visit the cellar merely to view… corpses… one never knew with a madwoman. And the possibility remained that she would have had another reason to descend to the cellar. Even something as mundane as to select a bottle of wine!

Almost an hour had elapsed since the door to her room had been opened. Lily cautiously pulled her boots on, always ready to hurl herself back under the blankets if she heard a sound or saw a light under the door. But nothing occurred, the house remained silent and dark. She slipped off the bed, her vision becoming more and more accustomed to the darkness, and picked up the small oil lamp from her bedside table. She had already put a handful of matches in her skirt pocket, but she did not light the lamp.

The carpet here in this room and out in the hallway was not as worn as that on the stairs and the lower floor, undoubtedly due to less traffic over the years, and the carpet's pile would help muffle her movements. Lily was grateful for this fact as she carefully opened the door, and stepped out into the passage, pausing every few seconds to listen for sounds. The silence was deep as the walls of the house shut out exterior noises, which would likely be those of night animals now. Probably at one time sounds from the town below might have reached the home.

Lily was uncertain exactly where Harvey and Mildred's room was, but suspected it was on the first floor in the rear, near the kitchen. That was where she was going to have to be extremely careful. I can always say I was thirsty and looking for a drink of water, but I don't know how I could explain the fact that I'm fully dressed! I'll worry about that when and if necessary.

At the top of the stairs, Lily paused for a full minute, gripping the silky smooth newel post, holding her breath as she listened, her attention on the nearby door that she knew opened into Emma Valentine's bedroom. No sounds emerged. Finally taking a deep breath, she started down the stairs, slowly and carefully, one hand holding the unlit lamp, the other clutching the banister. Of all things, she did not want to trip and fall!

By the time she reached the dining room, Lily Fortune was perspiring freely, her heart pounding within her chest. How do Jim and Artie do these kinds of things all the time? That question spun through her thoughts. She had listened to her fiancé's tales about his adventures, but somehow had never really comprehended the tension under which he lived… until now. And both he and Jim thrived on it!

At the kitchen door she once more stopped to listen. Again, the house was silent. Her movements had not appeared to disturb anyone. The most difficult part was about to begin, however, especially if the servants' quarters were nearby, which she feared was the case. Nonetheless, she had come this far. She could not stop now. Artemus's life might depend on her next acts.

Carefully and cautiously, Lily pushed on the kitchen door and stepped into the expansive kitchen. A wooden table sat almost in the middle, with cupboards all around, and a large iron stove, on which sat a massive iron kettle. The aroma from the kettle was not very appetizing, very grainy, with a slight hint of some unknown meat.

Curious, Lily stepped over to the stove, picked up a folded towel to use lift the hot lid off the pot. Because of the darkness she could not see clearly, but it appeared to be some sort of thick soup. Who in the world was eating it? Certainly, it had not been served in the dining room, and seemed to be much too much for Harvey and Mildred. For the mystery men? Or…

She lit the lamp then, turning the wick as low as possible. Five doors were visible in the kitchen. One opened into a large, surprisingly well-stocked pantry. The second was the door to the dining room, the third was locked but Lily suspected it opened into the bath room. A fourth was the door to the outside. Lily peeked out the window on that one, which had a clear view of the stables building, which was dark and silent, thank goodness.

The fifth door was a plain wooden door, with a simple handle, which when Lily tried it, opened easily to reveal a set of narrow wooden stairs. The cellar! Now she turned the lamp up, and holding it ahead of her, carefully descended. At the bottom she found herself in a rather large room with an earthen floor, empty except for a rough table and several wooden chairs. A door opened off either side.

The first door she opened revealed shelves of canned goods and bins of root vegetables. Her heart was in her throat as she crossed to the second door, which had a padlock hanging from the hasp, but was not locked. If it was simply another storage room…. Even before she opened the door, Lily saw the faint gleam of light around the edges. Why a light…? Swallowing hard, she pulled the door open.

The three bearded, filthy men were sagging against the chains that secured them. "Oh dear God!" Lily could not stifle the exclamation. I'm too late! But even as that thought crossed her mind, her voice roused them. Beside her, Artemus stared up in utter astonishment.

"Lily?"

She dropped to her knees, putting the lamp down in order to be able to take his face in her hands and kiss him. "Oh, Artie! Oh, darling! Are you all right?"

"Mostly," he replied, still stunned.

"Lily," Jim called from across the way, "how the devil…?"

She was scrambling to her feet now, gathering her poise. "I'll tell you later. I've got to get you out of here? Where's the key to your manacles?"

"One of our guards keeps it," Artie said. "And they apparently sleep above the stable."

"I thought so," she murmured, reaching up to her hair. "Well, let's see if I still have the knack." A gleaming hairpin was in her hand.

All the three men could do was watch and wait as Lily worked on the manacle on Artie's right wrist. She had told them how she picked the lock on the Wanderer that time in New Orleans, as well as where she had learned the trick. Both Artemus and Jim had laughed heartily at the idea. Now it was a matter of their lives, their deaths, as she wiggled and turned the slim piece of wire in the keyhole.

Suddenly a click sounded and the manacle fell away. Lily stifled a giggle of triumph, handing the hairpin to Artemus as she moved over to work her expertise on Jim's chains with a second pin. This one went a little faster, and while Jim loosened his second cuff, both she and Artemus, now completely free, released Jeremy. Only when Pike was climbing stiffly to his feet did Artie turn and take her in his arms to hold her tightly for a few seconds.

"We've got to move," Jim reminded them. "I don't suppose you have a gun, Lily."

"Sorry, no. I do have more hairpins though!"

Jim laughed softly as he stepped to the door. "Any idea what time it is?"

"Somewhere between one and two," Lily replied.

"We've got a about three hours," Jeremy murmured.

"The guards usually show up at dawn," Artemus explained.

"Problem is," Jim said, "we need the horses, and presumably they are in the stables." He looked at Lily.

"I haven't seen the horses since Artie and I dismounted at the hotel yesterday. Mine disappeared."

"I'm dying to know how you came to be here," Artie said, taking her hand.

"Mostly because I didn't have anywhere else to go," she said. "More later. What do we do now?"

"Got to get the horses," Jeremy supplied, looking at his companions in the dim light.

"But we need weapons first," Jim stated grimly. He did not need to explain. If the guards were sleeping in the stable, they would likely hear the escapees as they entered to acquire the horses.

Artie looked at Lily. "Did you see any weapons upstairs?"

"No."

"There's got to be one or two," Jim said. "Lily, what's the layout above us? We were all brought unconscious from the front parlor."

"Kitchen is directly above," Lily supplied. "One door to the outside, one to the pantry, one to the small room used as the bathing room. One to the dining room, and of course, one to the cellar." She frowned slightly. "None to the servants' quarters."

"The cook?" Artie asked.

"The cook and her husband, who is the butler. I'm not sure where their rooms are, but they are not connected to the kitchen. I'm pretty certain they are here on the first floor, because Agatha—Emma—allowed me to search the upper floor."

"The fact that their room does not open off the kitchen may work in our favor," Jim said quietly. "You know where Emma's room is?"

When Lily nodded, they exited the cell, Jeremy picking up the small lamp that Lily had brought with her. Ascending the stairs with as much stealth as possible, one by one they quietly entered the kitchen. Artie's nose wrinkled.

"Ah, the incredible aroma of our delectable diet," he whispered.

"You ate that?" Lily glanced toward the stove where the pot still simmered over the banked fire.

Artemus did not reply, keeping her hand clasped in his as the group left the kitchen, going through the dining area to the hall. As they paused at the base of the staircase, Lily softly explained that Emma's room was the first door at the top.

"But Emma is not there," spoke a harsh voice behind them.

As one, the four spun around. Emma Valentine stood near the parlor door, a large pistol in her hand. Artemus automatically stepped to place himself in front of Lily, never releasing her hand, however.

"So you tired of my hospitality," Emma said, coming forward slightly.

"The quarters were a little cramped," Jim spoke dryly, taking an idle step to one side.

"And the food left something to be desired," Jeremy added. "A tad overcooked." He edged in the opposite direction from Jim West, casually reaching over to place the lamp he held on the nearest stair, as though that was the reason for his movement.

"I'm so sorry it did not meet your standards," Emma crackled. "But my funds are limited these days. After all, I have employees to feed."

"Your cook should learn more about herbs and spices," Artemus said. "A pinch of oregano would have done wonders for that… er… stew." He felt Lily try to move out from behind him, but he squeezed her hand as a signal, and she remained put. Both Jim and Jeremy widened the distance between them. "Tell me," he continued, "does that dish have a name? Slop de porc, par exemple?" He assumed a perfect French accent, as though naming a famous Parisian gourmet dish.

Emma scowled at him. "It kept you alive! I could have just let you starve!"

"What did you intend to do with us?" Artie persisted. "Let me see. What were our choices? Hanging, drowning, poison gas, or just plain poison? Had you made up your mind?"

"It'll be firing squad," she spat. "At dawn! For all four of you. I have no qualms about including the lovely Lily. Traitor!"

With unspoken coordination, Jim and Jeremy moved. Emma had been so involved in talking to Artemus she had not paid them any attention, allowing each to gain enough distance from either side of her. As they rushed forward, Emma Valentine first swung the pistol toward Jeremy, who was nearest, but instantly swiveled back toward Jim West, pulling the trigger.

The blast from the pistol was loud in the confines of the hall. Jim staggered back, clutching his left arm as blood spurted between his fingers. By then Jeremy had his arms around the slender woman, and Artemus leaped forward to seize the pistol from her hand as Lily rushed to Jim, who was leaning against the wall.

"I'm all right, I'm all right," Jim insisted as she tried to move his hand to look at the wound. "That shot is liable to waken folks."

Releasing Emma and quietly ordering her to stay put, Jeremy headed back toward the door to the kitchen, pistol in hand. He halted as a door under the stairs suddenly opened, illuminated by a lamp held high. "Don't move!" Pike barked. "You're covered!"

Harvey and Mildred, clad in nightclothes, clutched each other as they emerged. Harvey held a small pistol, but he willingly gave it over to Artemus. Artie quickly returned to point the weapon at Emma Valentine, who had been edging toward the front door.

Lily had convinced Jim to move his hand, allowing her to confirm, as well as she could in the dim light, that the wound was indeed superficial, if painful, a deep groove in the fleshy portion of his upper arm. She tore the already bloodied sleeve off his shirt and used it to wrap around the cut, tying it off with her own handkerchief.

"I'm thinking," Jim said, "that the sound of the shot has not carried to the stable. At least not loud enough to wake anyone." He turned to the glowering woman. "Is that where your friendly guards stay, Emma?" When she did not answer, he turned his attention to the two servants.

Harvey replied before Jim had to speak. "Yes! All four of them. They sleep in the stable loft!"

"I'll take care of you later," Emma snarled. Even though she was also a prisoner, the butler quailed under her glare.

"Any other weapons in this house?" Artemus inquired. At first he thought that both servants were too intimidated by their employer's glare, but Mildred found the gumption—or else realized that cooperation was going to act in their favor—to reply.

"In Miss Agatha's room. In the wardrobe."

Jim would have headed up the stairs, but Jeremy and Artemus forestalled him, Pike placing his own gun in Jim's hand while Artie gave his to Lily. Lily Fortune swallowed as she felt the cold weight of the small weapon against her palm. The only other "weapon" she had ever held had been in a drama about a faithless husband, where as the wronged wife, she had been called upon to do him in. This one propelled real bullets, not just sound.

"You two," Jim ordered, "over here with Miss Valentine."

"You're being very foolish, Mr. West," Emma purred. "I have seven well-armed men out there."

Jim smiled slightly. "Your man just told us four."

She was unfazed. "He doesn't know about the three who have been living in town. By now they've seen the light and…"

"There's no one living in town," Lily broke in. "Not now. Jim, I found your razor in the bureau drawer of the room they put me in."

"We had time to unpack before we got word that Romeo Castillo was ready for us."

"Unfortunately it had disappeared when I went back to the hotel with dear Agatha Love."

"I have no doubt all our possessions, including our horses and guns, are on these premises." Jim flashed her a smile. "I sure don't want to lose that razor!" His arm was throbbing, but the pain was not unbearable. He knew that his two companions had been right to stop him from climbing the stairs. The effort would have been draining at this moment. They had a job ahead of them, and he needed to retain all his strength.

Artemus and Jeremy descended the stairs, each bearing a rifle, while both had strapped on their own gun belts. Artie carried Jim's. After a brief discussion, the decision was made to take Emma and the two servants down to the cellar and lock them in. Emma started to screech a complaint, but quieted when Jim placed his pistol against her spine.

Lily pondered this as she waited in the dark kitchen, peering out the window toward the stable as she had been asked to do. Would Jim—or Artemus—shoot a woman? Lily was quite aware of what Emma Valentine had done in the past, and what she had done to these three men these last few days. Jim and Jeremy in particular had suffered at her hands, being chained to the wall for several days, fed that unspeakable… slop. Artemus had selected the right word for it.

All three displayed the effects of their imprisonment, being unshaven and dirty, but Jim West and Jeremy Pike were filthier, their beards longer, with a gaunt look to their countenances. They all had had to exist in near darkness, awaiting their fate. From Artemus's remark a few minutes ago, apparently Emma Valentine had taunted them with threats of the agonizing fate she planned for them. Perhaps even in her madness, Emma had realized what the men had endured at her hands, for she had been instantly silenced, her eyes widening when she looked at the man with the gun.

Lily looked around as Artemus emerged from the cellar door. He came up to her and kissed her soundly. "Did I tell you thank you?" he murmured, and kissed her again.

She laughed softly. "I like your way of displaying gratitude. We have so much to talk about!" Then she glanced toward the still open cellar door. "She might harm Harvey and Mildred."

"Jim thought of that. Emma is being hoist by her own petard, so to speak, making use of the chains."

Lily's smile turned grim. "I'm sure she'll be screaming at the top of her lungs as soon as they are left alone."

"No doubt. But let her. Seen any movement out there?"

"I did think I saw a shadow, there at the far end, but it didn't happen again. Must have been an animal."

"Maybe." Artie turned as the other two men came through the door. "You all right, Jim?" Stupid question, Artemus, you know what he'll say: "I'm fine."

"I'm fine," Jim responded. "Lily, I don't suppose you know the location of any windows and doors in the stable building."

"Only on this side," she admitted. "I didn't have enough courage to explore around there."

"Don't ever belittle your courage, Miss Lily Fortune," Jeremy spoke up quickly. "I'd want you at my side if we were facing a regiment."

"Hey, wait a minute," Artemus chided, grinning. "Who's fiancée is she? She's going to be at my side when we face that regiment." Then he sobered, looking at her. "But right now, you're going to stay inside here, my dear, out of harm's way."

Her gasp of indignation was audible. "Oh no, Mr. Gordon! No, indeed! I've come this far. I have a weapon in my hand. I'm going to see it through!"

"Artie," Jim asked, grinning, "are you sure you want to marry this tyrant?"

"In a heartbeat," Artemus replied, his own heart swelling with pride, all the while he wanted to make what he knew would be futile protests. He had fallen in love with her because of her strength and independence. He could not turn his back on those traits now. "Got any plans, Mr. West?"

"None whatsoever, Mr. Gordon. I can only suggest that surprise is our best weapon. Mr. Pike?"

"Lead on, Mr. West."

They stepped out into the cool, moonless night, weapons at the ready. Somewhere in the far distance, a coyote wailed. Lily shivered at the sound, but resolutely kept up with the three men as they headed for the building looming before them. As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she saw Artie glance her way, and she smiled back with more encouragement than she felt. I mustn't falter now!

They made it to the smaller door in the side of the building, where they flattened against the wall, two on either side. "Artie," Jim whispered, "want to take a look down that way? Jeremy?" He nodded in either direction.

Both men complied, quite aware that if Jim West had not been wounded he would be making one of the reconnaissance tours. Artie knew that his partner had overheard Lily's remark about the "shadow" she had seen. Could have been an animal. Could have not. He himself was going to the corner where Lily had indicated she saw the movement, walking very carefully and quietly. When he got to that spot, he halted, holding his gun ready, and peeked around.

He wondered later who was more surprised, himself or the man lurking there. In any case, Artemus Gordon reacted more swiftly, bringing the pistol around in a wide but swift arc that caught the man under the chin, sending that man reeling backwards. Unfortunately, the gun he held went off, probably in a reflex action.

Jim grabbed Lily's arm and pulled her inside the stable with him. A moment later, Jeremy joined them, and then Artemus. "They're outside," Artie grated. "I got the one, but he'll likely be up and about in a few minutes. Saw at least one more further away."

"Might not have been the smartest thing, ducking in here," Jim grated, "but it seemed the thing to do."

"At least our horses are here," Jeremy stated, peering into the darkness. The animals were moving around in their stalls, disturbed by the human activity. Jim whistled softly and heard the response of his black stallion's familiar whicker.

"You in there!" the shout came from outside. "You haven't got a chance. Come on out with your hands up before we set fire to the damn place!"

"Better go ask Emma before you torch her property!" Artie shouted back.

"Does she really own this place?" Lily inquired.

"So she told us," Jim said. "Seems it belonged to her father. From the way she talked about him, she wasn't too fond of him."

"What now?" Jeremy asked, bringing the topic back to their predicament.

"We need a diversion," Jim said. "You and Artie open the main door, I'll ride out…"

"Oh, no you don't!" Artie protested. "Your arm…"

"My arm is fine," Jim stated flatly. "I've got the best horse and I'm the best rider." No one disputed the point, and he continued. "I'll go out, two guns blazing. They'll come after me, and you two—three—get out there behind them."

"Hey!" the yell came again, "you gonna surrender or be toast?"

"Give us a minute," Jeremy called out the door as he opened it a crack. "We're taking a vote!"

"One minute!" came the stern response.

They worked as swiftly as they could in the darkness, as Jim backed the stallion out of its stall and swung up onto its sleek back. Artemus wanted to saddle the horse, but Jim tersely told him that not only did they not have time, but where the hell were the saddles anyway? He gritted against the pain in his arm, glad that the darkness was probably disguising his expression from the others. Pulling himself up onto the stallion had been painful.

Artemus handed up his own pistol, with an admonition. "I want you to bring that gun back personally, mister. It was a special gift."

"I heard about that," Jim retorted. "I'm ready. Our minute is almost up. Get that door opened, then do your part."

The two sections of the door swung outward, and was currently barred from the inside. They lifted the bar off as quietly as possible, Artemus and Jeremy positioning themselves on either side. At a soft, "now," from Jim, they pushed the door open wide, then immediately headed back toward the smaller door, Artie grabbing Lily's hand to tow her along with their longer strides.

The gunfire split the night, along with startled yells, including at least one of pain, as Jim tried to direct his fire towards the shadows and cries. He lay low on the stallion's back, shooting with both hands as his legs gripped the horse's barrel. After about a hundred yards out into the barren land surrounding the house, Jim grabbed the mane to pull the horse to a stop. Straightening, he listened, holding his breath. All was frighteningly quiet.

"Come on back, Jim!" Artemus's cry reached him. "We've got 'em!"

The ploy had worked to perfection, with the three men—the one Artie had struck was still on the ground—racing to follow the rider, probably believing in the darkness that more than one horse was escaping. Jeremy, Artemus, and Lily, had been able to come up behind them and order them to drop their weapons. The trio had complied, including one with a nicked shoulder.

They locked the quartet in the cellar with Emma and her servants. Then Lily and Artemus cleaned and bandaged Jim's arm, while Jeremy searched for and found their possessions. As the morning sky lightened, the sun rising brightly, the three men had taken turns bathing, shaving, and changing into fresh clothes. Lily did not mind in the least that she was delegated to fixing breakfast, and enjoyed even more watching the men devour real food for the first time in days.

"Now comes the real problem," Jim said, draining his coffee and rising from the table. "What the devil do we do with our prisoners?"

"Wonder if there's a jail in Peacetown," Jeremy mused.

"There is," Lily replied. "I saw it when I was looking for you. I'm not sure what condition the cells are in."

"Jim," Jeremy said, "why don't I ride to the nearest town and get some help to escort our prisoners to a safe and secure jail. Maybe send a telegraph message to Colonel Richmond at the same time."

"That's a twenty mile ride one way," Artemus said. "Are you sure you're up to it after the last few days?" He helped Lily carry stacks of dishes to the sink.

"After that breakfast, I could ride a hundred miles," Pike claimed.

"In the meanwhile," Jim said, "I think we should investigate that jail down in town. We will need to feed our guests eventually. Be safer if they are split into two areas, maybe put the men in town if the jail looks secure enough."

"Well, why don't we go have a look at that jail," Jeremy suggested, with a knowing glance toward the pair now with their heads together at the sink.

"Artie," Jim called, "keep an eye on things while Jer and I check downtown."

The only response was a wave of the hand. Artemus was listening with fascination to his lady love's tale of what had occurred after he rode off to the meeting at "Castillo House." He was shaking his head when she got to the part where she crept downstairs to find them.

"Lily, that was a crazy thing to do! You're lucky Emma decided to wait for us all to come upstairs instead of harming you."

"Perhaps," Lily concurred. "But at the time, I thought she was sound asleep. And I had to find you, Artemus. Once I realized that Agatha Love was in reality Emma Valentine…" She looked up. "How in the world did she arrange for Colonel Richmond to send you, Jim, and Jeremy here?"

"Oh, she bragged about that. Romeo Castillo's sister was her cellmate, and escaped with her. Romeo abetted the escape. He willingly helped her set up the ruse… and then she killed him. We're not sure what happened to the sister. Probably dead too. But the ruse was extremely convincing. Emma is, in her own way, quite brilliant with these things. Actually it was supposed to be only Jim and me caught in the trap. Jer was just lucky enough to be with Jim when he got the orders and decided to trail along."

Lily went to the stove to get the teakettle of water heating there. The slop de porc had been dumped outside at first opportunity. "For the first time," Lily said thoughtfully as she poured steaming water into the chipped enamel dishpan in the sink, "I believe I truly understand what you and Jim go through almost daily. Quite exciting!" She looked up at him with shining eyes. "Does the agency accept female agents?"

"Lily! No!" Artie started to grab her by the arm, but remembered just in time the hot kettle she still held. "I mean… I don't know if female agents have been considered. I mean, not in the sense of the work Jim and I do. I mean…"

She refilled the kettle from the bucket by the sink, then carried it over to the stove, returning with that same musing expression on her pretty face. "Think of it, dear. We could work together more often. After all, look how you use your acting skills. I could do the same thing. We could…"

"No, Lily, no!" Artemus Gordon groaned. "My dearest, I am sure you would be more than capable in such a position. But… but…" He did not know how to voice his protest so as not to injure her feelings.

Lily saw the despair in his wonderful brown eyes and decided to put him out of his misery. "Artie, dear, you seem to forget that you and I are—or have been—in the same profession."

For a long moment, Artie was confused as he saw the twinkle in her eyes, the smile playing on her warm mouth. He exhaled a long sigh. "Lily, are you twitting me?"

"Yes, darling, I am twitting you and in case you needed proof of my acting skills, I believe you need doubt no longer. I found these last couple of days most exhilarating, but also terribly frightening. It's bad enough that I have to worry about you while I go about learning my lines and plying my profession. If I had to worry about getting killed myself all the time… well, my nerves just wouldn't stand it."

He threw his arms around her. "Thank the Lord for your nerves!"

Lily enjoyed the kiss, then wriggled out of his arms. "Wash or dry?"

The only way to understand a woman is to love her—and then

it isn't necessary to understand her.

—Sydney Harris (1917-1986), American journalist

THE END