It wasn't an easy climb, but finally Roxton and Veronica reached the precipice, rolling over the edge with a heave. "I'm getting too old for this," Roxton huffed.

            Veronica grinned at her companion as she stood and gave him a hand. "It's almost finished."

            They entered the trees and circled around Beaumont, hoping to catch him by surprise. So far, Ned and Challenger had succeeded in keeping him distracted, but flying bullets had a habit of doing that.

As they approached, Roxton could see even more bruises marring Marguerite's face, and even a black eye. This guy better pray he never got his hands on him.

"I hope we aren't we interrupting," Roxton yelled over the gunfire, cocking his weapon and leveling it at Beaumont's head.

Beaumont spun around, caught, but quickly regained his composer as he pointed he his own rifle at Roxton. "No, not at all, Margie and I were just on our way home."

"Home's the other way," Veronica hissed as she drew her knife and prepared to throw it.

"I wouldn't do that if it were you, Miss Layton," Beaumont dragged Marguerite closer to him. "Margie might get hurt."

"Let her go," Roxton rasped with emotion.

"But Lord Roxton, you don't seem to understand. She belongs to me, and she has since the day she was born. There is no way I am going to let you take away my most prized possession."

            "No, you mean she became your prized possession since the day you murdered her parents," Veronica stated as she slowly stalked towards him, like a panther stalking its prey.

"Stay back, wench!" Frances Beaumont took aim at Veronica, but as he fired, Marguerite leapt forward and struck his hands towards the ground. Marguerite felt the hot lead rip through her leg as she fell forward.

Beaumont staggered, taken by surprise, and fell backward, toppling over the nearby ledge. As he fell he grabbed Marguerite, bringing him with her to his death.

"MARGUERITE!" Roxton cried as he dropped his gun and dove for the ledge.

Veronica beat him to her, dangling precariously over the edge holding firmly to Marguerite's bound arms. Below Marguerite, Beaumont clung to her wounded leg, blood oozing down and covering his hand. Roxton leaned next to her and helped her begin to pull both up.

"Don't worry, we've got you," John reassured when he saw the uncertainty and pain in her eyes.

"No you don't!" Beaumont screamed as he pulled a knife out of nowhere and swung his arm back, but before he could drive it home a single shot rang out. Beaumont's face contorted in pain and shock as he fell to the ground below.

Veronica looked to the trees and saw both Ned and Challenger holding smoking rifles.

When Marguerite was safe at the top of the cliff she glared at Roxton and smacked him across the arm. "I thought I told you not to come after me. You were supposed to wait until he showed me the way off the Plateau!"

Shocked by her outburst, Roxton retorted, "Well excuse me for caring…" Before anything else could be said, Marguerite swayed, and fell in his arms, unconscious.

Veronica quickly disappeared into the brush as Roxton pulled up Marguerite's skirt to examine the wound. There was a lot of blood, and John prayed it had missed the artery. "Challenger, get up here now. Marguerite has been shot."

Both Challenger and Malone ran for the steep trail Marguerite and Beaumont took earlier, and were breathing heavily when they reached the top. "I'm getting to old for this," Challenger stated.

"Try that part," Roxton said, indicating the ledge he and Veronica had just climbed.

"Point taken, old boy," he replied as he knelt to examine Marguerite's wound. "It doesn't look to bad, but the sooner we get her to the tree house and resting the better. I don't want her coming too here. Let's get the bleeding stopped, and get her home."

Everyone agreed with Challenger. Lord Roxton removed his shirt and began tearing it into shreds to make bandages and a tourniquet, and Veronica returned with yarrow leaves to place over the wound.

"I'll go bury the body," Ned said, turning back to the path, wanting to make himself useful.

Veronica stopped him, "No, he isn't to be buried." Everyone turned to her perplexed. "A grave is meant for those who have done something memorable. He has done nothing that needs to be remembered. Leave him for the raptors."

Ned nodded, understanding.

With Marguerite's leg dressed, the small family began the trek home, with Roxton carrying Marguerite gently in his arms, her head resting against his heart.