As soon as the world stopped spinning around me, I took note of what I had landed on – the aforementioned body.  I registered that there was no scent, therefore I knew that the unfortunate soul was not deceased, however, he certainly was not in the healthiest of conditions.  I sat up, rubbing at the lump that was forming on the back of me head, and tried to rouse the man.

            "Sir?  Sir, are you all right?"  Well, of course he was far from all right, but what else was I to ask?  He was terribly bruised and I noticed that some of his clothing was thick with blood.  "S-sir?"  His eyes fluttered, attempting to open.

            "Help…me…"  His voice was very hoarse and his breathing shallow.

            "Yes, yes, of course."  I ran up the stairs as quickly as I could and grabbed the first two men I saw.  "There is an injured man at the bottom of the stairwell, I need your help to bring him up."  The men assisted me and we were able to get him to the infirmary, which was, thankfully, very near by.  Once there, several nurses and Dr. Peter Kindell attended to him.  Both my job and curiosity kept me at the infirmary until the man was conscious and coherent.

            When I was allowed to speak with him, my day became…complicated.

            Dr. Kindell came out to find me.  "Mr. Dearborne will see you now, Constable Crane."

            "Mr. Dearborne?" I asked, my stomach twisting.

            "Yes, Constable.  He would like to speak with you."

            A noise that could have belonged to a small, frightened animal escaped my lips, then I followed Dr. Kindell.  Mr. Dearborne sat upright in his bed, his face swollen, but his eyes bright.

            "Constable Crane?" he whispered.

            "Yes, sir."

            "I cannot thank you enough for saving my life."

            "You are quite welcome.  I must ask, sir, are you Phillip Dearborne?"

            "Yes, I am."

            "Your daughter has been quite concerned about you, sir, she came…"

            He struggled to sit up further.  "She's come to you?"

            I nodded.  "For the past several days.  May I ask what happened to…"

            "Father!"  I heard Victoria's voice behind me.  I could not bring myself to turn around for fear of seeing her husband.

            "My darling girl," Mr. Dearborne said, smiling as best he could.  "How did you know to come?"

            "Abigail Hallingsworth is a nurse here, she sent for me.  Father, I thought you dead.  What on Earth happened to you?"

            I noticed that Mr. Dearborne paused before answering his daughter.  "I believe that I happened upon the wrong place at the wrong time, my dear.  Common thieves seemed quite adamant about taking the valuables I had on my person."

            "So many days ago?  Oh, Father, it must have been terrible!  It's been so cold and…"  Victoria turned and looked at me.  She looked so different from all of her visits.  The forlorn look in her eyes had disappeared and her lips were drawn into the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.  "Constable Crane, you found my father?"

            I could feel the heat in my face growing stronger with every passing moment.  "Yes, Mrs. Wintergrace.  I managed to stumble upon him…"

            "Quite literally," Mr. Dearborne chuckled.

            "I am not quite sure how to thank you, Constable."

            "Seeing a smile on your face is more than I could ask for, Mrs…"

            "Victoria, please, Constable.  I do enjoy to being my own person at times."

            Victoria was noticeably more at ease in her father's presence.  I understood where her bruises were from, but I also understood my place – it was not in the midst of her affairs.  On each occasion that I had seen her, Victoria seemed to be the epitome of a damsel in distress, but at that moment, and with that one lone statement, I knew that there had to be more to her.  "Ichabod," I said, feeling foolish as soon as I did.

            "Pardon?" she replied, her smile still present.

            "You needn't call me Constable Crane.  Though I suppose you will no longer be seeking my assistance or…"  I regretted the words that I let leave my mouth.  She would have to think me odd for saying them – at least that is how I thought she would react.

            "Ichabod, you have been a true gentleman in this matter.  You could have easily turned me away when I came to you."  She stepped closer to me and kissed my cheek.  "I am forever grateful."

            I tried in vain to swallow the lump that formed in my throat, but before I could succeed, Mr. Dearborne had once again spoken up.

            "Victoria, dear, I fear that I will be here for a day or two.  Would you be so kind as to bring my robe for me?"

            Victoria kissed her father's forehead and smiled at him.  "Of course, Father.  I will be back as soon as I can."  With a final nod in my direction, she left.

            "Constable Crane, when my daughter came to see you…was she alone?"

            I understood where this conversation was headed.  "Yes, she was."

            "Was she all right?  I mean to ask…  Aside from worry, was she in good health?"

            "She was not ill, sir."

            Mr. Dearborne looked down at the blankets that were covering him.  "Was she injured?"

            My throat suddenly felt very dry.  "She was bruised, sir, but I did not feel it was my place to…" 

            "I fear that I have ruined my daughter's life."  His voice was distant.  "Have you met her husband?"

            "Yes, I have."

            "And that is why your throat looks as it does?"

            "Pardon?"

            "Constable Crane, you have bruises on your throat."

            I had unfastened the color of my shirt after carrying Mr. Dearborne to the infirmary.  I had not given it another thought.  "I…Well, you…"

            "He is a monster, Constable, and I gave my daughter to him."