'It has indeed,' agreed Ross. 'We'd better lay low until this evening.' He hefted the wooden case he was carrying. 'I've brought the Townsend.'

Abercrombie made a face. 'You going to have to use it?'

Ross sighed. 'I doubt I'll have any option but to kill,' he replied. They had reached the base of the stairs. Beyond was a door to the servants' quarters, and he could hear sounds of activity and voices through there, but this side was clear. He led the way out to the rear of the Hall, and then sprinted for the closest trees. A moment later, Abercrombie joined him. 'Until this evening, we'd better lay low,' he said. 'Meanwhile, how did your research fare?'

'Good and bad,' his companion answered sourly. 'Did you bring any food? I'm famished.'

'No, there was no time. About your findings?'

Abercrombie scowled at the news, and then smiled as he delivered his own. 'He's here,' he reported. 'At the factory.'

'Excellent,' Ross replied. 'Typical, isn't it? Only two possible locations, and I selected the wrong one.'

Abercrombie shrugged. 'Can't win them all,' he opined. 'So, do we go down to break in now?'

'Not just yet,' Ross replied. 'First things first. The factory can wait until the morning, I think.'

'What about me stomach?' asked Abercrombie, rubbing it as he spoke. 'I need food to keep going.'

'We could try getting a bite to eat at the local tavern,' Ross suggested.

'That might not be such a great idea,' his companion replied. 'That Doctor bloke and another geezer spotted me on the s.h.i.+p.'

Ross gave him a severe look. 'You're slipping up. But you're right. We'd best not go back to the village, in case they arrest you.'

Abercrombie looked wistful. 'Yeah. But they'd feed me.' With a deep, mournful sigh, he followed Ross into the woods.

'Maybe we can find you some nuts,' Ross suggested with a smile.

'Do I look like a ruddy squirrel?'

Sarah was just getting her appet.i.te when they arrived back at the tavern. There had been no sign of the Doctor or his companions at the barn, and even the body of old Ben Tolliver had vanished. Since the carriage was still waiting, Sarah realized that the Doctor was probably still investigating. As it was past noon, the tavern was open and several of the locals were already inside, pints and pipes in hand and mouth.

Jen Walker was there, collecting and refilling gla.s.ses. She nodded at the back room. 'Your mate's in there,' she said.

'Tucking into a pie.'

'What a marvellous idea,' said Kipling loudly.

'Come on,' Sarah said, realizing she was unlikely to be rid of her three shadows for a while. She crossed the smoke-filled lounge and moved into the slightly less smoky air of what pa.s.sed for a dining room. As the barmaid had said, the Doctor was there, cheerfully eating a large wedge of some kind of local pie. Sir Alexander and Doctors Doyle and Martinson were also enjoying a meal and a gla.s.s of wine.

'Ah, there you are,' the Doctor called out. 'And your cheering section, too.' He gestured at the empty seats about the large table. 'Make yourselves comfortable.'

'Absolutely,' said Kipling, s.n.a.t.c.hing up a spare plate and cutting himself a large chunk of the steaming pie. His two friends followed suit, and settled down to stuff their faces.

It was a good thing Sarah hadn't really been expecting better manners of them. She helped herself to a smaller piece of pie and sat beside the Doctor. 'So,' she asked conversationally, 'how was your morning?' Doyle pa.s.sed her a gla.s.s of the white wine, which she accepted gratefully. The pie was delicious, and as she ate she listened to the Doctor and Doyle recounting their findings. Then she told them other own escapades.

'You've done well, as always,' the Doctor said approvingly, as he cleaned his own plate. 'Smart move to win over young Billy like that.'

Doyle frowned. 'I think it's dashed irregular to use young urchins as agents,' he complained.

'But very wise,' the Doctor countered. 'People are used to seeing them about, and they can go places and listen in where an adult would be immediately suspected as a spy. And from the sound of things, young Billy is likely to turn up any amount of helpful information.'

'What concerns me, though,' Sir Alexander interjected, 'is all this stress you're laying on poor old Breckinridge. The man's merely a businessman who's helped out the village when he didn't have to. I feel certain that he's innocent of involvement.'

'He may be,' agreed Sarah. 'But unless we can check him out, we won't know for certain.' She gave the magistrate a winning smile. 'You know him; can't you arrange for him to allow us to visit the factory?'

Sir Alexander flushed slightly, obviously appreciating her attention. 'I can but try, young lady. When I get home later, I'll send a man around to ask.'

The Doctor nodded. 'We'll a.s.sume that Breckinridge agrees,' he commented. 'That means tomorrow at the soonest will be a visit to the factory.'

'Is that a problem?'

'No.' The Doctor gave another of his wide smiles. 'After all, tonight we go out hunting the beast of the moors.' He smiled at Doyle. 'Are you up to that, do you think?'

Doyle nodded eagerly. 'Wouldn't miss it for the world,' he announced. 'The game's afoot!'

5.

Hounded ir Alexander remained behind in the village when their late lunch was finished. Kipling, Beresford and Dunsterville Sreluctantly took their leave. Doctor Martinson shook the hands of the Doctor and Doyle before heading back to his own home to finish the death certificate on Tolliver. That left only Doyle to accompany the Doctor and Sarah back to Fulbright Hall.

As the coach ambled through the countryside, Sarah turned to the Doctor. 'Is any of this becoming clearer to you?' she asked.

'Not really,' he answered cheerfully. He had slouched down in the seat, the brim of his deerstalker pulled down over his eyes in an attempt to make it look as though he were sleeping. Sarah knew him too well to believe this ruse, and knew that he was merely attempting to avoid answering any questions she or Doyle might have.

'Do you have any idea what is going on here?' she persisted.

'I always have ideas,' he answered sombrely. 'But until I have more information, I'm not going to share them. If we can capture this beast tonight, then I'll be able to be more specific. Until then, all I have is theories.'

Doyle s.h.i.+fted eagerly in his own seat, opposite Sarah. 'What is this monstrous hound like?' he asked.

'Like a monstrous hound,' she answered. 'It's huge, and its mouth is filled with razor-sharp fangs. It's like nothing I've ever seen on Earth before.'

'Intriguing,' Doyle mused. 'An unearthly hound, eh? Sounds like the perfect idea for a story.'

Sarah couldn't hide a smile. 'Believe me, it is.' She gave one of the Doctors knees a poke. 'Oi, you going to be like this all the way back?'

'Yes, and probably much later,' the Doctor muttered through his hat. 'I'm sure you can amuse yourself until the hunt.'

'I'm sure I'll have to,' Sarah answered. He was in his usual taciturn mood again, and she knew he was feverishly thinking through what they had discovered so far, as well as planning their evening's escapades. She chatted pleasantly with Doyle about his adventures on the whaler, and his plans to enter private practice when he returned to Edinburgh.

As the coach rolled to a halt outside Fulbright Hall, Sarah was startled to see Sir Edward come running down the steps, his face ashen. Ignoring the footman's offered hand, she jumped down to the gravel. 'What's wrong?' she asked.

'It's Alice,' he said. 'One of the servants found her in her room, unconscious. I hoped that the Doctor might be able to explain '

Doyle and the Doctor virtually leaped from the landau, Doyle clutching his medical bag. 'I'm a doctor, sir,' he said briskly. 'I'd be happy to offer my opinion.'

'Thank you,' said Sir Edward gratefully. 'This way.' He led the three of them up to Alice's room. Roger was there, wringing his hands helplessly, as was one of the serving maids, presumably the girl who had discovered Alice.

It took Doyle and the Doctor a very brief time to come to the same conclusion. 'She's been drugged,' Doyle explained.

'The effects should wear off in a short while and leave her with no ill effects.'

'Drugged?' her father exclaimed, aghast. 'But who would do such a thing?'

The Doctor glanced around the room. 'Offhand,' he suggested, 'I'd suspect the one person missing from this picture.

Which is Colonel Ross's room?'

Roger gave a strangled cry. 'You can't think that Edmund would possibly '

'I can and I do,' the Doctor snapped. 'He's a very secretive person, and he's conspicuous by his absence.'

'But he's my friend,' protested Roger. 'I'm sure '

'I'm sure you're a blithering idiot,' Sir Edmund grunted. 'Come along, Doctor. I've long said that the man is a scoundrel. Let's take a look in his room.'

Sarah was torn for a moment between staying to look after Alice, who she rather liked, and keeping up with the action.

Action won, and she gave Doyle a quick wave before diving after the Doctor and Sir Edward.

Ross's room was further down the corridor, past the one Sarah had been given. Sir Edward rapped hard on the door and then threw it open. 'n.o.body here,' he reported, disappointed.

'But his bags are,' the Doctor said, going to his knees in front of the first. He didn't touch it until he had conducted a thorough examination of the straps. 'Aha!' he exclaimed happily. 'Just as I expected.' Taking his magnifying gla.s.s from his pocket, he held up the strap using the handle. Sarah saw the glint of something in the leather. 'Ingenious. He's b.o.o.by-trapped it so that anyone who opens his bags unaware gets drugged.'

Sarah frowned. 'So you're saying that Alice was trying to rummage through his things?'

'It looks that way,' the Doctor agreed. 'She was obviously suspicious of his motives and wanted some information.' His eyes sparkled. 'I wonder why Ross felt it necessary to rig this kind of trap for his bags? It's hardly the action of an honest man, is it?'

'The man's a scoundrel,' repeated Sir Edward. 'I should have Faversham arrest him.'

'On what charge?' asked the Doctor. 'He hasn't actually done anything criminal that we know of, and the only way your daughter could have been injected is if she were burgling his trunk. I think we'd be better off leaving the constable out of this.'

'But we have to do something,' protested Fulbright.

Sarah jerked her head at the two trunks. 'He won't go too far without his luggage, will he?' she said. 'That they're rigged suggests there's stuff in there he needs.' She looked down at the Doctor. 'You going to open them up?'

He shook his head. 'I don't think so. There may be other traps, and I doubt Ross would have left anything terribly incriminating behind. Let's just wait for him to turn up again, shall we?'

'So now what?' asked Sarah.

Getting to his feet, the Doctor slipped his gla.s.s back into his pocket. 'Rest,' he suggested. 'We'll need all our energies and wits tonight when the sun goes down.'

The hunger in his stomach almost overcame the fear in his soul. Waiting in the ancient mine for the sun to go down taxed him almost beyond endurance. He tried to sleep, but hunger continually wakened him. It was only the certainty that if he ventured out in the daylight then he might as well just kill himself that kept him from throwing aside caution and padding out onto the moors.

The wind had risen, whipping at the gra.s.ses and spa.r.s.e shrubs, bringing to his sensitive nostrils the scents of life. He could almost taste the prey in his mouth, feel the blood pulsing in their furry bodies, hear their bones snap as he bit down . .

. He whimpered in agonized indecision, desperately wanting to feed, but terrified of the consequences.

He had not asked for this fate, didn't deserve it. Why was he so tortured and so afflicted? He stared down at the paws he now possessed instead of hands. They were much more powerful in some ways than his old hands bad been. He could kill with a single blow, and the claws he possessed could rip through branches, bone or flesh. But he couldn't hold a pencil. And his mouth! The fangs he had grown were capable of ripping the throat out of a horse, but he had lost the ability to speak. All he could manage were the whimperings he was now producing, or the growls, barks and howls that he gave vent to in the night.

Despite all of that, he knew that he had been human once. A long, long time ago. Now what was he? Neither man nor beast but some terrible, cruel mixture of the two, twin natures that could never intermix as his physical forms had done.

He wanted to howl out his pain, his fear and his rage, but he knew that would bring the hunters to him faster. One day, he was sure, they would kill him. One day, perhaps, he would get some peace in the arms of death. He wasn't afraid of that so much. Death would be welcome, though he would never actively seek it. What terrified him the most was that he might not be killed. He'd been human once. He knew what people would do with him if they ever captured him.

Worse, he knew what Ross would do if he found him. This was all because of Ross in the first place! Had it not been for the man, he wouldn't be in this state. He would still be human. If he was doomed to die, he'd die happily if he could only kill the man who had done this to him. He envisioned fastening his fangs into Ross's throat and shaking the man like a rat until his spine cracked, his skull split and he could eat the fiend's brains for a final meal! Ah, then they could kill him!

But he knew that he was fooling himself. There was no chance that Ross would give him the opportunity for vengeance.

Ross was too smart for that. He'd have others out to do his work. The hunters would be others, either bought by Ross or else fooled into doing his black deeds.

Hunger gnawed at his insides again, and he whimpered once more. He stopped pacing up and down in the confines of the tunnel and stared at the darkening sky. It would be twilight in an hour, and then he could venture out. In the darkness, he knew, he could give any human the slip. All he needed to do was to kill, quickly and silently, the first prey he came across.

And if it was a hunter, a human? Well, so much the worse for that man, then. He had only wished to be left alone, and the men with their guns wouldn't allow him to live. So be it. If there was to be a confrontation, he would not shy from killing.

And, though the thought was repugnant, his stomach insisted that good food could not be wasted. Has it come to this? Has it come to this? he agonized. he agonized. Am I really considering cannibalism? Am I really considering cannibalism?

But was it cannibalism? He had been human once but he was not human now, and could never be again. He'd take animal flesh if he could, and he was more animal than human now. If that was right, how could it be wrong to feast on the flesh of those who would kill him? He resolved that he would kill whatever prey came to him first, man or beast. And he knew that he would eat anything that was presented to him.

He settled down to await the setting of the sun. Then the hunt would begin.

Alice joined the rest of them in the dining room for an early supper, though she didn't eat much. She insisted that she was feeling much better, but appeared pale and still tired despite her long, enforced rest. Roger fussed over her, and her father appeared much relieved. Sarah could see that Sir Edward was genuinely fond of his daughter. Despite his somewhat gruff manner, she realized that Fulbright was actually quite a pleasant person. He became much more animated with the reappearance of Alice.

After they had eaten, he led them all onto the patio overlooking the back lawns and the beautiful fountain. Sipping at her wine, Sarah found it very relaxing to be here. It was difficult to turn her mind to the evening's activities. She simply wanted to sit out here and enjoy the cool of the dying afternoon. Despite the rising breeze, it wasn't uncomfortable at all.

'I've arranged for the grooms to prepare four horses for us,' Sir Edward told the Doctor. 'I take it you can ride?'

'Naturally,' the Doctor answered. He looked satiated. Considering how much of the supper he'd packed away, Sarah reflected, he should. 'And so can Sarah.'

'Miss Smith?' Sir Edward stared from her to the Doctor. 'I a.s.sure you sir, this is no expedition for a woman.'

'And I a.s.sure you,' the Doctor retorted before Sarah could start her own protest, 'that I would sooner have Sarah beside me than any three men. I know I can rely on her implicitly.'

'Thank you,' Sarah said, touched by his compliment. He wasn't often that generous with his praise.