SCENE FOUR Baltimore State Asylum, Baltimore, MD

The whole complex was in chaos. And as far as Gideon Boudin was concerned, nothing could possibly serve his purposes better. The Administrator, his assistant, and the gentleman who'd claimed to be standing in for Boudin here for the past three months, and more had all vanished without any sign, without a trace left behind. A good number of the guards took this as a chance to flee the complex. They were quickly disabused of that idea by a new cadre of guards and "attendants', armed with repeating rifles and, when required, a plentiful supply of narcotics with which to subdue these would-be deserters.

At this crucial juncture, the Georgian intended no one should leave his "employ" here unless they did so in the same way so many of his perceived enemies had done before them. Those new guards took up round the clock watches on the whole asylum compound, establishing and maintaining their authority by sheer terror. And as Boudin watched with unveiled enjoyment, terror was spreading faster than a fever through that segment of the inmate population who remained capable of reacting to anything, now.

The new group of attendants was just as busy. They began a regimen of searching and inspecting each ward and treatment room on a three times daily schedule. And in every search they found more inmates in high panic, requiring more 'treatments'. It would not do, Gideon Boudin made extremely clear, for the county, state and Federal official coming to oversee the tax auctionto find the asylum's charges out of control.

The guards Lawson and Smith hired years ago were also found and reinstated now. These Boudin assigned, through his subalterns, to guard and when ordered, search the inmates in the 'dangerous wards' and 'treatment rooms' off the main courtyard. And as the Georgian fully expected, the guards he now recalled to that service easily managed even the worst cases, by means of the same sadistic brutality they previously employed here. It was those guards who duly noted the admittance of three more uncontrollably screaming maniacs into their "care".

That was nothing new here. Nor were the claims these lunatics made when they managed anything resembling comprehensible speech. To the vast amusement of their fellow 'dangerous' inmates and the guards, two of these new admissions protested that they had been part of that now missing trio of erstwhile authority figures! The third madman didn't manage even that much in the way of complaint. In fact, when morning rounds began two days later, he was discovered face down in one corner of that dangerous ward, stone cold dead.

Somehow, in the short time following his incarceration and first session of "water treatment', this tall, black haired, strongly built fellow found the means, the guard's report stated, to slit both his wrists and make a try at cutting his throat. No one in the ward or the complex as a whole had any idea how that could have happened. No one knew how the late "Palmerston Conyers Hamilton-Lewis' got possession of the shards of glass he'd used to take his own life. For several years now, glaSs windows had been officially banished from the compound in light of their potential danger to precisely such deranged wretches as these.

Gideon Boudin stood in the erstwhile Administrator's office, watching disinterestedly as "Hamilton-Lewis' mortal remains were interred in the courtyard. His interest was far more taken by the message coming through on the telegraph device he'd ordered installed here several years back. His interest was secondarily on the finely built, attractive young man operating that equipment, another one of Boudin's latest protégés from the University of Georgia at Athens.

"Read that back to me, I believe I have the gist of it, now." The Georgian demanded.

"Yes, Sir. The message is from our Mr. Devlin up in Washington's City, Sir. He reports that half the town is alive with rumors of a Presidential trip to Maryland, probably to Annapolis, and here to Baltimore Sir. The other half of the rumors he's hearing now state that instead of coming here, Grant will be traveling to Richmond, as he hasn't been there since the Conflict was ending. Either way, word is Grant will be traveling to one destination or the other within the fortnight, Sir." The young man answered.

"The mountain has chosen to come to Mohammed, then!" Boudin chortled, stepping closer to his young assistant. "I knew this would happen! I knew that damnable Butcher could not keep away from the boy indefinitely! I knew he would insist on coming to see "Jonathan West', sooner or later! This talk of going to Richmond is just so much political prattle! The Great Enemy is coming here, coming into our hands once more! And we will be sure to properly greet him on his long awaited arrival! Send this back to Devlin: Keep close touch with our best source close to the subject there and report your findings on the instant. The device in place here is about to be out of order on a permanent basis. Do you have all that, my dearest lad?"

"Yes… Yes, Sir." The 'lad' answered, keeping his hands and his eyes on the task he was given.

"Very well. As soon as you've finished that, you will demolish the device, just as instructed. I see no reason to put such expensive equipment into the hands of the Federal fools who are no doubt poised to take over this compound. Oh, and you were going to bring me a fresh package of matches for my pipe, have you done so?" Boudin asked, indolently holding out one hand, in what he believed to be an entirely suitable and regal manner.

"Yes, Sir. Here they are, Sir." The collegian nodded, standing up and tearing the telegraph wires out of the device, as he finished the message. "I went to the tobacconist you requested, Sir. And as they had a new supply, I also brought you some of the English blend you told me you liked. I hope you'll accept it as a small token, Sir, of my … esteem and appreciation … I believe it is the right blend."

Boudin took the matches but at first, only scrutinized the bag of tobacco as the lad held it out. "Very kind of you, very attentive… Let me see… Yes, you remembered correctly." The Georgian finally answered."I wouldn't touch those new blends for all the tea in China! Without at least a touch of latakia they're nearly flavorless, not to say utterly plebeian! You're turning into a good, thoughtful, quite discerning lad, aren't you?"

"I … I surely hope to… Sir." The young man answered, keeping his eyes down, and his manner subservient, as Boudin also preferred. "Shall I start on my other tasks now, Sir? You had requested that I finish disposing of all sealed records here, lest they fall into the Enemy's hands, Sir."

"Yes, yes, well, that can wait for a bit, just for a bit, my lad. I'll also require your assistance in moving one of our frailer inmates to another one of the rooms separated from the main ward, in a little while. You'll know when. He's in far too fragile a condition to withstand all this tumult. So I know you will help me to help the poor wretch to more sheltered quarters, removed from any further … interference." Boudin replied,

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