The Watch Dog

[Red Cat Jenny]

Jenny, spurred on by Murin McDunough's sudden departure from shy to one in control, quickly stripped the room's brocade curtain of it's ties. The figure reluctantly sat after looking backwards, as if he had expected a rat or some other thing upon the chair, which might do him further injury than what was presently threatened. Jenny hurriedly tied the man. Binding his hands which struggled only lightly for some position of advantage even as they were secured. She had learned to tie strong knots while in the colonies and was surprised as this forgotten knowledge suddenly jumped forward from her mind to her fingers, which remembered the motions and followed through. She moved on to tie his feet as well feeling slightly repulsed each time her hand came in contact with the second being to threaten her this night. As she stepped back a safe distance Miss Ashcombe was silently thankful for those others whom had protected her.

[Silkie McDonough]

As Miss Ashcombe stood after securing his second leg Miss McDonough drew in a long deep breath, released the pistol to half cock and lowered it to her side. Then she sat on the bed, her eyes closed and her head fell back for a moment as she tried to keep from trembling. Opening her eyes she looked sharply at the lad, “Why er’ya ear?”

[BriarRose Kildare]

BriarRose and Maeve sat drinking meade and conversing quietly. Every once in awhile they could hear the men in Preston’s room laugh boisterously.

Maeve smiled and shook her head at the commotion that came from Preston’s room.

“Tis very good to hear our patient in better spirits.” She said as her and BriarRose giggled at the sounds coming from his room.

BriarRose yawned and shook her head, “I am sorry Meave, dear, but me thinks I may need to go to bed. I did not sleep well at all last night and I am starting to feel it sorely.”

Maeve looked at her friend for a moment with concern noticing the light circles under her warm blue eyes. “Ye go on to bed, Briar, and I will see to our patient in a bit.”

“Thank you Maeve.” BriarRose said as she set her goblet down. She stood up and smiled at Meave, “Goode night to you then. Please don’t stay up too late. You need your rest as well.”

“Don’t you be worrin’ about me, go on now to bed with ya.”

BriarRose laughed as she turned to go up the stairs. From the fire place Mandrake stretched and wandered up the steps with her.

[Pew]

The three of us chatted for a bit longer. As unhappy as Eric was to recieve a letter as such, we were still very close friends, even brothers. Tales came around as they always did to those women ashore we had yet to meet. Luc engaged us in his tales from his days at the tavern with a few of the "regulars" and the marriages they dissolved. He even knew of a pastor that had quite literally been caught with his pants down by a parishoner who in turn told the Misses. For the first time, Luc told us, he was in the front row for the Sunday service.

The evening grew late and we had heard murmurs from downstairs and then footsteps and a door quietly closing.

"Wot ye say f'r a bit 'n th' town, eh Preston?" Eric pressed.

"Zere iz a small pub, right 'round zee corner from ere," Luc whispered.

"A bit o' vittles sounds might good right now gents," I nodded and quicky changed into the clothes Eric had brought to my room previously. I tucked my pistol into my belt and slid my knife into it's small scabbard on my hip. We listened to the door and for footsteps again. Luc slowly opened the latch and peered into the darkness.

We walked slowly down the unlit hallway bumping into each other like maidens at their first ball. The staircase creaked under our weight but not a stir was heard save for the crackling of the fire. Luc looked slowly around the corner and saw the chirurgeon beginning to drift off into slumber. Luc put his large finger to his lips and ssshhhed us as we tiptoed across the main room's opening. Again, with quiet precision, he slowly opened the door as the three of us slid into the Martinique night.

[Black Mab]

The lad struggled against his bonds for a moment, surprised and dismayed at the strength of the knots which held him firmly in the chair.

Well, at least he was only tied down and not shot full of holes. Embarrassment and disgust at his utter failure as a thief overrode fear as he looked sullenly away from the intense figure on the bed.

"Ah tole ye. Ah mean no harm. Ye came in late an' ah thought ye would be havin' food sent up. . . Ah was jus' hungry."

But as he said this last, his voice - low enough in volume and timbre and yet surprisingly high for a lad of his height - faltered ever so slightly and his eyes flickered downward into his lap, betraying to Miss McDonough's sharp gaze the suggestion that perhaps he was not telling her everything . . .

[Red Cat Jenny]

Le Chateau Anse - Martinique

Miss Ashcombe moved closer once again, still careful to keep Murin between her and the would be thief. She stooped to see his face, curious at the tone and emboldened by the pistol. A chill ran up Jenny's spine as she considered the figure before them may have been sent to confirm her whereabouts. She had revealed to no one the sum of coin. A bounty unimaginable to a small time thief if he were indeed only that, which lay so close had he known he may have struggled against her. She shuddered and took a step back again.

[Silkie McDonough]

“Foode?” Murin questioned the lad “I tink d’table would bae d’bes place t’fine d'foode wot ya say ye’ were lookin fer.” The boy avoided her gaze “Why wuz ya so close t’d’lass? Wot dija expect t’fine ere?” She tugged absentmindedly at the leather thong that hung around her neck feeling the familiar weight of her money pouch. “Wot foode dija expect t’fine in d’bed, round er neck?” Again there was no reply.

She had seen people interrogated many times ...why was this so hard for her? “Wot say ya ta mae avin d’Keep cull d’guard? The lad looked up startled and Jenny, beside her, swallowed hard. The boy offered no response save the widening of his eyes and a frightened yet defiant stare. She needed to proceed with caution, how much did the boy know? Was he here for Jenny, or for her? Was someone waiting for him beyond the confines of this room? “Jenny, latch the door again.” At least they would have the sound of the lock opening if someone else wished to gain access to the small room. “Please” she added a moment later. Could this boy have been sent by Jenny’s uncle or those in his employ? What was known of the Watch Dog? For the first time Murin wondered if what she and the crew of the Watch Dog did, taking the Mastrich, was somehow outside the law?

Miss McDonough placed her feet as if to stand but simply slid forward on the mattress her face close to the boys. He could feel her warm breath on his flushed cheek but he locked his eyes on the far wall refusing to let the fear that was welling up within him spill forth. In his periphery he saw the black of the pistol at her side lying on the mattress. This woman, whom he had chosen for her meekness, for her unassuming manner, her apparent insecurities and neediness, was far from what he had measured her to be. Confidant and in charge, he was sure that it was within her to call the guard and have him carted away.

Murin’s fear churned in her stomach and threatened to give up it’s contents as she spoke. “Well lad? Will ya speak? I know you have tongue't.”

“I tol ye I was lookin fer …”

“Nay ya did nut want foode!” Her voice was harsh in his ear as she snapped at him. Could this the same woman that just two nights prior was singing in the other tavern? “Speak d’trut ifin ya value yer life laad.” Her fist held tight the knife that was against his throat earlier and it glinted in the candle light.

[William Brand]

August 1, 1704 - Galley of the Watch Dog

Lazarus Gage sat on an overturned bucket scrubbing out a large cook pot made of heavy copper. His shirt sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and his hair was tucked back under a ratty monmouth cap of a weathered, unremarkable color. He was dressed in his working clothes, head to toe, covered over with an apron that had seen as much service as an barber surgeon's might have seen. It was stained over with the blood of a hundred meals fought and won, and while Murin, and even Constance had offered to make him a new one, Lazarus had refused. The stains betrayed his service and loyalty to the 'Dog and he could not think of a new one until this apron was worn past use.

At his feet sat the vivacious, young Jean Dorleac bordered on two sides by his contemporaries and charges, Pierre St-Germain and James Standiford. Lazarus was regaling them with the particularly harrowing tale of the Warrington Hart and the storm in which it had floundered. He had not felt like talking about the 'Hart, especially since returning from Meg's company, but Jean had warmed him to the tale by a sheer force of will heavily laced with nagging. Now, with an audience of avid listeners, Lazarus could do no less than pour out every harsh and gory detail to the delight and fascination of the young lads.

They listened with wide smiles and sometimes wider eyes as Lazarus described how the Warrington Hart had listed forward and to port during her final death throws. They gaped as the ship's cook described how humanity had dissolved in those final moments. How even the First Mate of that fated merchant vessel had cried like a child when all hope was gone. How the carpenter, brave to the last, had gone below with two able seamen to rescue what was already lost.

"He went below?" Jean asked, staring. "Even then...?"

Jonathan Hawks, who had appeared at the galley door half way through the tale, nodded and said, "History is replete with tales of carpenters laying down there lives."

Lazarus smiled a knowing smile at this and then wondered if the ship's blacksmith had meant for this to sound allegorical. He chose to believe so as he set aside the pot to fetch food for Mister Hawks.

"Is tha' all of the story...?" Young Standiford pressed, and there was a certain hunger in his voice. Jean elbowed him.

"All for now." Lazarus returned. "Now off with ya. Work to be done while we live."

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

[Black Mab]

The lad eyed the knife, fear rapidly overcoming his defiance once again. There would be no food tonight, nor gold. And at this rate, these strong, fierce women were not even inclined to allow him to keep his life.

Having drawn this dismal conclusion, he slumped down in the chair, utterly defeated. Careful to avoid her gaze, he blurted out the whole story:

"Lady, ye are right. 'twas not food I sought tonight, though usually that be my only goal . . ."

He continued, after a deep breath, "I watch d'port an' d'ships as they come in. I follow sailors what have d'er pockets heavy wit' gold. I follow 'em and when they've drunk em'selves t'sleep I take what I need . . ."

Miss McDonough sat up, triumphant, "So, you ARE a thief!"

The lad looked up, eyes flashing, "Aye, ma'am, but ne'er by choice nor design, merely necessity. Ah wan'ta survive."

Miss McDonough looked narrowly at the youth, still suspicious of his motives, "So why would you choose me out of all the sailors in port just now?"

The boy looked away again as he answered, "You were smaller'n tha rest. Ye made an easier target. T'night, ye came in limpin' an' I thought ye'd not be able tah chase me . . ."

Miss McDonough still appeared skeptical so he rushed on, "Ah've watch'd a long time, ma'am. Ah've seen all manner of men come through Martinique . . all sorts, some no better'n slaves and some what strut like royalty . . .I seen how yer captains treat the men . . .and women, beggin' yer pardon . . . have ye any idea how lucky ye are?"

There was that tone again. Just a note in his voice, just for a second, but Miss McDonough's sharp ears caught it. His tone, in the context of that last query . . .she could scarcely believe her ears.

The lad looked down at his lap, "Ah du'na wanta be a thief. Ah never did. Ah'd work fer me keep, if anyone would have me . . ." at that, his eyes darted to her face and down again . . . "Ah'm strong an' ah learn quick. Two years ago ah din' know a sail from a marlinspike, nor a lock from a shoe . . .an' now yer injured. . ."

He looked up then, eyes alive with newfound hope, "How can ye work on yer ship? Ah could help ye! Don' kill me, don' turn me in to the guards an' I swear, ma'am, ye won't regret it . . .please, lady . . ."

He trailed off, out of words and explanation, nothing left to do but wait for her judgement . . .

[Pew]

As we turned the corner from the chiriurgeon's home I was caught in fit of coughing that made me place one hand upon the wall to catch my breath and release the tiny demon within. A spit of blood emerged followed by another and then one more.

"Gent's, we may bit early on m' release." A stood up and felt a bit dizzy, either from the alcohol prior or the sickness still clutched onto me. "Mayhaps a'n th' next watch we c'n get a bit o' supper." I wiped my brow and it began to seep with sweat.

"Aye Mister Pew," Eric agreed.

I waved the men on as I started back to the home. With the same stealth and precision as before, yet alone now, I made my way back to the room, cursing myself for the sudden departure from the care of the women. A quick dab of cloth dipped in fresh water brought some relief. I still felt the throes of the fever until I had removed my clothes and laid down again. Slumber brought some respite.

Eric and Luc had continued to the pub. A slight smoky haze filled the large room and Luc found two seats nearest his innkeep friend behind the bar.

"Ah Luc," Jonathon Sauder welcomed he and Eric with a wave of his hand.

"Jonathon," Luc caught the man hand in hand and exchanged a firm handshake.

"A friend?", the innkeep questioned.

"Ya. Eez Meezter Franklin, zargeant-at-armz on zee Watch Doog."

"Greetings and well met friend," Jonathon extended his hand again and Eric shook firmly.

Introductions were made and Jonathon recognized the Watch Dog. Several of the crew had been into his tavern. Many of them falling asleep, deep in their cups. He had heard that someone had relieved the town's prison of many men, and was told it was a Captain fresh into Martinique. Mister Sauder knew of few men with the fortitude to do such a thing, and those men were generally hung at the end of a rope within a few months. A smart innkeep was Jonathon Sauder and he knew to keep his last thought to himself.

The men stayed at the pub for many rounds and especially for Luc to catch up on the town gossip. Eric sat quietly only to participate with an "Aye," interspersed throughout the conversation. He removed his letter from Preston and fingered it gently, roling it gently end over end in his hands. The thought crossed him to not deliver Preston's letter to the Captain. A thought he droned over repeatedly.

[William Brand]

August 1, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Rummy lay in her hammock for several bells playing music quietly in the dark. She was tired from the work of the day, but her thoughts kept drifting ashore and to the possibilities of laying down roots on Martinique. Jonathan had offered to partner with her and the prospect of opening a shop with their combined trades held the promise of a very comfortable future. The uncertainties of food and shelter would soon be replaced by a steady commerce of wood, iron and coin.

Her thoughts turned to Jonathan and his oft times curt behavior, but she didn't mind that he was short. There was a certain hard honesty in his gruffness that forced one to view the world in a more pragmatic scope. He spoke his mind without mincing words. What many took for tactlessness, she admired as forthright frankness. Everything he said was simple and free of misleading discourse.

She laughed then in the dark alone. "We'll keep his honesty to ourselves or we shall have few customers." she noted aloud. Then she returned to her music one last time before sleeping.

[Silkie McDonough]

Le Chateau Anse - Martinique

Genevieve had locked the door and returned as the lad finished his confession. Murin thought “Ya ave no idea ow lucky I m lad!” and smiled inwardly. Murin allowed herself to relax slightly, there was something about this lad his confession that she wanted to trust. He did appear to be thinner than a lad of his height should be. His eyes and cheeks were sunken and his skin tight against his frame. If it were simply a matter of own safety she may have let the lad loose but Jenny’s life may well be at stake. Murin shifted her gaze from the figure tied to the chair to Jenny. Each looked with question to the other. Murin picked up the pistol and stood, then before stepping away she stated to the boy, “I’m nil so lame as t’bae useless aboard m’ship.” at that she moved, not allowing herself to limp for the nagging pain in her ankle and signaled for Jenny to join her out of ear shot.

“Eez eater exceedin’ly clever er so defeated det all otter options er gone.” Murin whispered looking through hooded eyes at the back of his head.

“I do not recognize the boy as any on the plantation.” Jenny confessed, “However that does not mean that he has not been hired to find me.”

“D’guard?”

“I can not trust even them.” Jenny’s voice wavered, “My uncle is a man of means and most men have a price”

Murin nodded “Aye.” She agreed, “N’ken nay jus let im free, e did mention det he nil wonted t’arm ya buot he did nay say e wuz’nut lookin fer ya. Ifen ees been ired t’fine ya e as anough knowledge bout me t’point yer uncle t’d’ship. …course e’d ave a hell uv a time tryin t’get tru d’crew once Capin Brand has accepted ya aboard.” She winked and smiled.

Jenny shook her head quickly from side to side as fear lit her eyes “No!”

“I’d nil wont ta invite trouble upon d’Dog” Murin squinted as she pinched at the bridge of her nose and took in a deep breath. “I m nay goin t’ge’tny sleep dis night. Care t’join mae on a late night stroll lass? I tink I’ll defer t’capin Brand’s wisdom on dis un.”

Jenny nodded and the two proceeded to dress. The intruder, bound to the chair, leaned forward as Miss McDonough pulled at her breeches and waistcoat that were still draped over the back. Murin was not angry, just worried about what the captain would think of this situation that she had found herself in. “More strays.” She thought and chuckled in silence. Within a short time the women were dressed. Murin went to the window and peered through the shutters. The rain had stopped for the moment. Lowering herself to the bed she slid her feet into her shoes …her lucky shoes. A wry smile came to her lips.

Murin rummaged through her duffel and pulled out a leather box and her powder horn. She asked Jenny, who to her surprise was dressed in slops and a shirt, to go for her oil skin and the green hat while she cleared and reloaded her pistol with dry powder from her horn. “Should ave done dis earlier” she lifted an eyebrow and smiled sideways at the lad as the realization that the pistol would likely have misfired had he struggled brought another wave of emotion to his visage.

Jenny returned with the oil skin and the green hat with the dried mud “Is this a new hat” Murin rolled her eyes and nodded her head as she slid on the skin. After to Jenny hoping that it would aid in keeping her identity a secret as they walked through the pub and streets, she half cocked the pistol pointed it at the lad and said, “Just a bit o’insurance so’s ya d’nut try somtin foolish lad.” She nodded to the other woman who quickly untied their captive. “Now m’boy, yer gonin’t elp dis lame sailor t’er ship.” Miss McDonough handed the room key to Miss Ashcombe and tucked her left arm into the lad’s right, pointing the pistol at the lad she pilled it from view under her rain gear. “Shall we?”

The boy nodded weakly and the three vacated the room. Murin and the lad continued to the stairs while Jenny locked the door. “Ave ya a name lad?” the boy did not answer. “Well Jack.” She paused; there was still no response, “I trust ye’ll give mae no trouble.” They made their way through the crowd at the pub un-noticed and were making their way through the wet streets as quickly as Miss McDonough’s ankle would allow. The lad was actually helping the woman bear her weight. Murin became less frightened and bolder as they went. By the time they had reached the docks and the lad had not attempted anything untoward she was surer of his confession though she sensed there had to be more to the lad than he had admitted.

Murin found the Dog’s longboat easily. “Ahoy Saint Kitt!” the crew aboard jumped at her hail. Drews and Luigi stood quickly. Drews hefted his muskets. “Who gosa dare?” Luig’s voice was easily recognized. “Tis MEER-een McDunna.”

“What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I needs t’get a message t’d capin.” Murin explained as briefly as she could and waited for a response.

[William Brand]

Moved below.

[Red Cat Jenny]

Docks at Cul De Sac Royal

Miss Ashcombe had dressed in the slops and shirt she was now grateful to have unwillingly purchased on an earlier foray with Murin. The clothing had made up the bulk of the parcel she carried, which was now more manageable as she slung it over one shoulder. As her own clothing was still drying at the Inn she'd had no other choice. Jenny could scarcely have gone through the streets half dressed in borrowed garments. Now that she was in the presence of some others of the Watch Dog crew she stood quietly by, trying to hide herself in an unobvious way behind Murin in the dark. She hoped no one would question who she was or bid her come forward for a closer look. Conversation and agreement ensued in a variety of accents as Murin passed a message to be delivered, she assumed to the Captains. Her whole body tingled with nerves at the thought of a new life.

[William Brand]

August 1, 1704 - On the Cul du Sac Royal

After five bells of First Watch

Murin explained as much as she thought she dared or should, while Luigi looked the lad up and down three or four times, the whole time popping the knuckles of his right hand. He even walked around the lad once before stopping again in front of him. "He's no meat on him." he said, as if the observation had escaped everyone else's attention.

"He is too small to be a threat." Brenton offered, and Luigi nodded, and he was looking at Jenny now. He could see that she was nervous, even in the dark, to be out in the open. Finally he nodded and gestured to the boat and they piled aboard even as Brenton untied it from the docks. Luigi put Murin on an oar while he sat facing the lad. Luigi himself was armed with a pistol, but he never drew it out. Instead, he sat facing the prisoner for the duration of the trip, looking at almost nothing else, until the lad looked nervous enough to go swimming in the bay.

[Black Syren]

Though the rain had abated the night was cooler and the sea still choppy, the view was still dismal as the clouds still obscured the sky, a shroud hiding whatever light may have fallen from the stars. The sound of the wind about her ears muffled most sounds and the only lights to be seen were those below her and the ships about them. A sloop had arrived recently and still bobbed in the waters two points to larboard, apparently it had taken some damage in the storm as there was much activity upon it’s deck.

She knew Ciaran was casting an eye towards it as well, the ship was graceful, small and yet deadly. It reminded her of a rapier or perhaps a sea eagle, It may be small but was quick and deadly. She snuggled into her oilskins and turned back to shore when a small blot barely discernible came to attention.

After some moments it became apparent twas not dolphins but a jollywatt approaching and making for the WatchDog. “Longboat approaching!” She called down and watched as the men below made ready. She sat forwards trying to discern more in the darkness, but there was nothing more to be seen…at least at the moment.

[William Brand]

August 1, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William was surprised to hear that the longboat was on return. He had not expected to see it before noon the following day and he went down into the waist to receive Claude, Cobus or both. Instead he was greeted by the other four men who had gone ashore with the boat, the ship's tailor and two strangers. The first was a woman dressed in the working clothes of an able seaman. This was not surprising to William by itself, except that he had assured himself that he would never see a woman outside of the 'Dog's crew in such attire. The other stranger was either a lad or scrawny lass, and given the tendency of the light frigate to attract either sex, he chose not to care for the present.

"What news, Luigi?"

"Miss McDonough...and these two here have business with you, Captain. I thought it best to bring them all along," the able seaman explained.

"Very good."

Murin and the two passengers came up and over the rail, either of their own accord or by assistance. William stood at the rail as they came over, his hands behind his back. When the last of them was aboard, William leaned out and called the rest up. "You lads best come aboard for the present. See yourselves to the larder for cold biscuits and rum."

"Thank you, cap'n." they chimed together as they tied off and made their way up.

"Miss McDonough..." William said, gesturing aft to the Ward Room.

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin led the way to the ward room directing the lad before herself and allowing Jenny to follow.

She contemplated how exactly to explain her companion and ...captive? Once at the wardroom door she waited fort he captain to allow entry.

[Pew]

Eric excused himself from the pub and left a generous pile of coin at the bar. The barkeep attempted to thwart his departure, but Eric was steadfast in reaching the wharf and eventually the Watch Dog.

Again, the sergeant-at-arms was struck amidships and needed to reach the Captain presently.

[William Brand]

William was half way out of his oilskins when he turned to find his three guests crowed on the topmost step outside the Ward Room door. He paused and smiled, bemused. "Please do come in..." he said, pushing away his smile, but he only exceeded in hiding half of it. "Please." he insisted, gesturing to the chairs about the table as he dropped the wet coat over the back of his chair. When they still hesitated, his smile faded a bit and his expression altered to one of business.

"Miss McDonough, would you be so kind as to introduce our guests."

[Pew]

Luc eventually caught up to Eric. They soon arrived at the wharf looking for a ferry to the Watch Dog. An old man returned to his post with a shaded lantern and offered passage across the harbor. A deal was struck and the sergeant-at-arms and his comrade soon found themselves asea in the direction of the Mother frigate.

[Black Syren]

Curious as to what was going on below she shifted to get a better look but soon all the players had vanished and she sat back rubbing her chin, a gust of wind had her narrowing her eyes and pushing back a wet strand of hair that escaped from her braid.

A bobbing light upon the waters had her sitting back up and looking out to sea and her voice called out again “Another boat approaching Sir!’ She called and this time even Ciaran was sitting up to see if he could make heads or tails of the newcomers.

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin limped slightly after the captain. As he requested an introduction she swallowed hard.

"Dis es Miz Jon-ve-eve Ashcombe sah, requestin transport on d'Dog." The captain's eyebrow rose at that statement. "She is a new friend uv mine sah n'is ta bae travelin alone." Murin hoped that this was enough for the moment. Why was it that at the inn and through the streets of Martinique she felt so relaxed and confident but here, on the dog, in the presence of captain Brand, a man she knew she could trust she felt like a child again?

Looking towards the scrawny lad Murin continued. "Dis is..." she paused lost on how to proceed, "dis ...person ...is ...well ..." the captains patience was wearing thin, she could see it in his eyes although his expression had remained unchanged in all other aspects. "E picked d'lock, come inta m'room, n'I woke t'fine im over Miss Ashcombe in d'bed. E tripped n'I got im t'd ground. I would'a called d'guard buot Jenny ere needs t'avoid bein found" Murin hesitated for a moment then continued, "Her Uncle wot she lived wit gave her a black eye sah."

[Pew]

Eric cupped his hands aound his mouth, "AHOY THE WATCH DOG!!".

[William Brand]

William regarded Jenny, but said nothing. Instead, he gestured with one hand to the waiting chairs not taken. He did not draw back his hand until this silent command was followed by all present. What followed was an awkward, unrehearsed dance. William moved only enough to draw out a chair for Miss Ashcombe before pacing once across the room to the stern bench. Here, he fetched out a bottle and three glasses. He placed all of these on the table. He did not fill them.

"Miss Ashcombe. Perhaps you would be so kind to explain your business in its entirety."

There was a knock at the door then and Miss Smith put her head in to ask if she was needed at present. Eric's voice was heard off the Watch Dog and William assured her that she was only needed above at present, and thanked her.

"Please." he said, gesturing to Miss Ashcombe.