With a powerful flick of his wrist, the tip of his sword caught the filigreed iron hand guard of the firangi and it flew out of Cecily's hand and landed harmlessly on the other side of the room. Before Cecily could sputter her protest, there was a loud groan from near the desk.

"Flora!" Anne ran to help the stricken girl as she struggled to sit up.

"My head!" moaned Flora, who remained pinned to the floor by the military man's outstretched arm. When she realized the obstacle that weighed her down, Flora turned blazing bright red.

Now the military man and Dickens were awakening as well. As Anne watched, even Mathieson began to stir. Whatever the dreadful drug had been, fortunately it's effects had not lasted long.

The military man was introduced to Anne as Jacob Holt, Mathieson's cousin. Holt of course immediately noticed the absence of his colichemarde, and when Anne returned it to him he balanced it suspiciously before returning it to its scabbard. Anne remarked that Holt and Flora did not seem to be able to look each other in the eye and that Mathieson seemed to find this highly amusing. He blinked his good eye at Anne in a wink.

In the meantime, James had kept Cecily under check. Anne reassured him that all of their band were now awake and without serious injury.

"Excellent!" James said, turning to Cecily. "Now to begin with, hand over the sapphire."

Once again, before she could say anything, Cecily was interrupted. This time it was by the library door opening. Sir Paul Tilbury entered the room. In his hand he carried a pistol.

"I think that's enough swordplay." He declared icily.

"You can't shoot us all." James said.

Without changing expression, Tilbury turned and aimed the pistol at Anne.

James had seen Tilbury shoot an unarmed man in the back. He had no doubt that Tilbury would kill his own niece. He put down his sword. Tilbury motioned to Holt and Matheison, and they each tossed down their swords onto the carpet. Cecily collected them all and went to stand by her father.

"How amusing that it's taken so many of you to have so little effect on our plans." Cecily smiled at them.

"Is there room for one more?" behind them August Falcon inquired hopefully as he entered the library behind Tilbury and Cecily. Falcon also held a pistol. It was aimed at Tilbury.

"Well, two more, to be accurate. I found this gudgeon trussed up in Lady Cecily's chambers." Falcon nodded toward a beet-red Theo who followed him into the library.

Flora took the swords from Cecily and handed them back to their owners. Dickens, silent throughout, was thoughtfully hefting the pistol she had taken from Sir Paul Tilbury. Mathieson and Holt stood leaning on the desk facing the Sir Paul and his daughter. Behind them, Falcon was investigating the contents of the rose bowl. Anne moved to the sofa, holding a handkerchief to the cut on her arm. Another reason that James did not care for them to linger at Tilbury Manor.

"Give me back the sapphire!" he snapped at Tilbury and Cecily.

"Tell us your contacts in the Guardians," added Mathieson.

"What does their scheme involve?" said Holt.

"Whatever were you doing in her bedchamber?" exclaimed Flora.

"Who, me or him?" asked Falcon.

Mathieson and Holt groaned.

"Never mind!" thundered James.

Theo stuck his tongue out at his sister.

"The sapphire. Can we not concentrate on the sapphire?" James muttered.

"Uncle," began Flora.

"Never mind, Flora, we will discuss everything at great length once we have the sapphire and we are out of this place. Now for once in your life, will you please remain silent?"

"But Uncle," Flora continued insistently.

"You heard him!" gloated Theo.

"Shut up Theo!" Flora growled.

"The sapphire!" James roared.

"I have it!" Flora shouted.

Cecily's hands flew to her bosom. "You little birdwit!" she shrieked. "You can't possibly have it!" She peered down the bodice of her dress and then looked at her father in dismay.

"Miss Flora's on the dubbing lay!" proclaimed Dickens in admiration.

"She's a treasure of many talents, mon cher cousin." Mathieson murmured in Holt's ear as Holt gaped open-mouthed at Flora.

Flora looked pleased. "I looked through the peephole and saw Cecily and Sir Paul with it. And I saw where she kept it. So when she found Jacob and me, it wasn't that difficult to take it from her before she fooled us into touching those nasty papers. Just like she must have fooled poor Dickens." She leaned toward her brother. "And that's not the only thing she's fooling about, I can tell you Theo! That bosom of hers is not..."

"Flora!" bellowed James. "Where is the sapphire?"

"Where indeed?" echoed a voice from the library doorway. There stood a handsome young man that Anne had never seen before. In his hand he held a pistol. Anne did not need to be told who he was.

"David!" shrieked Flora ecstatically as she threw herself into his arms.

"Dav!" shouted Theo enthusiastically.

Anne moved over to James' side. She did not miss the look that passed between Uncle Paul and Cecily. Neither did James. He reached for her hand.

Shaking Flora off, David repeated, "Where indeed?" He gestured with his pistol and demanded again, "Who has the sapphire? I want it now!"

Cecily turned around, a look of utter contempt on her face and pointed to Flora, saying, "That miserable thieving hoyden has it!"

Flora gasped and shrilled, "Talk about thieving---you are the very worst sort--and are due for a date with the nubbing cheat on Tyburn Hill." She sprang forward, hands curled, ready to scratch Cecily's eyes out.

David then shouted, "Be still, both of you. Give me the gem Flora, and do it now!" Flora's eyes widened a bit at the peremptory tone in David's voice, but she walked to him, digging the gem out of her gown pocket. "I knew you loved only me! We can get married now that we have the sapphire!"

She held it out to David, who snatched it from her hand, with such a look of greed on his face that Flora stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at her erstwhile suitor and an expression of doubt finally crossed her face, as she watched him gloating over the beautiful blue stone.

"David... David, you do love me? We are going to get married, aren't we?" She looked at him with wide eyes and clenched hands, wishing for reassurance.

Grabbing her by the arm, he growled, "Marry you? You are nothing but an ill-mannered, unsophisticated miss!" Jacob and August, followed by James and Roly moved forward at this, and David pushed the pistol against Flora's ear. "Stand back! I won't hesitate to shoot this minx if any of you move!" He moved Flora in front of him and using her as a shield began backing out the doorway.

Cecily screamed, "David, wait for me! I'll go with you... with the sapphire, we can take complete control in London."

David snorted contemptuously at this and said, "What makes you think I want to share control with you? I can use the gem to make myself the sole leader and I won't need a woman that wants to best me at every turn. You, my dear Cecily, are a vain, grasping bore! I do not wish to have to guard my back or worry about what is in my food and wine."

As he reached the doorway, James started to move. "Hold up, James, or I will blow her brains out in front of all of you!"

James stopped and said, " Think what you are doing, David. Your group is planning a terrible crime. Not one of you can really trust the othe... why make yourself a traitor to your country?"

"Such pawky drivel! You are content to be a horse dealer and farmer... you don't know what it is like to live dodging the duns and hoping that your father will not be exposed as bankrupt! I want money, power, and beautiful women. I want to rule this country!"

During the course of this speech, Flora attempted to squirm from David's grasp. As he tried to tighten his hold on her, Balder appeared in the doorway behind him and he stumbled over the dog's bulk, loosening his grasp on Flora. Flora fell to the side, and all of a sudden, a knife, thrown with great accuracy, pierced David's shoulder. He dropped the pistol and screamed, grabbing at his shoulder and sliding down, entangled with the dog.

Everyone turned and looked with awe at Miranda Dickens, who stood there, adjusting the buttons on the front of her gown. "Where did that come from?" was the feeble question from Anne.

"Oh Mum, no one born and bred near the docks o' Lunnon is without some weepon. Me Dad taught me when I warn't more than a nipper how to throw a push dagger, and I always keeps it here in me bodice in case I needs it."

Roly strolled over to David, who lay on the floor, bleeding nicely on the expensive carpet and examined the knife. "Well," he said in admiring tones, "I'd heard of these knives but this is the first time I have ever seen a lady use one. Hmm... it is a very useful piece. I especially like the handle... you can hold it hidden in your hand and it just looks like rings over your fingers"

As Roly was admiring the knife, Sir Paul tried to manuever over to David, with the intent of taking the gem, but Roly merely reached over and pried it out of David's hand. Throwing it up and catching it several times, he finally tossed it over to James and said, "Well, I think you and Jacob should take this to London right now. You certainly can't drive and I think you really need Jacob's help in delivering this to the right place."

James looked longingly at Anne, who was staring at David, carefully avoiding his eyes. James was aware of his duty but his every thought and desire was to stay with his lovely Anne--to comfort her, to hold her, and to whisper of his love. Instead, Jacob took James by the arm and led him out of the room, while Cecily and Sir Paul started to yell and scream obscenities and maledictions at the two of them.

"Oh, really," drawled August. "This is really the outside of enough. Theo, you and Miranda grab some of the drapery cords and we will tie these two up and perhaps, sticking handkerchiefs in their mouths might lessen the noise here." As he finished this pronouncement, he leaned over and scratched Balder behind the ears and said, "I wonder if there is a bone or a joint in this house for this hero." He spared a glance at the wounded David, and sighed, "I suppose we will have to truss you up and stop the bleeding so that we can deliver you to the gaolers at the Tower, where you will have plenty of time to ponder the results of your avarice and villainy."

Miranda and Theo, ably assisted by Roly, soon had Sir Paul and Cecily trussed and gagged, and they managed to staunch the blood flowing from David's shoulder. August shook his head in disgust, cocked his head at Anne, and demanded directions to the kitchen. Anne answered bemusedly, and August Falcon, that exquisite, moved from the scene of mayhem and accompanied by Balder, went to seek some tidbits to tide him over for the trip to London.

Miranda stared after him in admiration, and said to the room at large, "Naow, there's a gent what knows what he loikes!"

"Oi best go with 'im and 'elp." Miranda said as she followed August.

Anne knelt beside a crestfallen Flora who was still sitting in the floor. Flora looked up at Anne with two big tears on the brink of falling from her beautiful blue eyes. Anne told her, "It will be alright."

Roly reached and helped Flora to her feet, "Chin up, poppet. He is not worth a single tear."

Theo walked over to place a consoling arm around his twin. "Yes," he said firmly while looking at David with disgust, "he is not worth it." Theo led Flora to a nearby sofa where she meekly sat down.

Theo, Roly, and Anne looked at each other in consternation concerning this abnormal behavior of the normally exuberant Flora. Roly quickly crossed the room and poured a glass of brandy. He brought it over and handed it to Anne who had moved to sit beside her. "Here," he said, "see if you can get her to drink this."

Anne placed it in the sagging girl's hands and urged her, "Drink this, it will make you feel better." Flora obediently took a sip which helped restore some color to her cheeks.

Theo looked at Roly and asked, " What do we do with our trussed-up triooo...?" His last word trailed off as he turned towards the door. Roly, Anne, and Flora all looked up curiously glancing towards the door and realized why Theo was suddenly speechless. Mr. Percival Foster was standing in the doorway holding a pistol that visibly shook.

Mr. Foster (Cecily's music turning admirer) stammered," W-w-w-what's going on h-h-h-here?" Cecily's eyes glinted in triumph.

Roly emitted a groan and slapped his forehead murmuring, "Sacre bleu." Theo, Flora, and Anne looked at each other in dismay.

Cecily, consumate actress that she was, began to struggle, and whimper. Mr. Foster, aching to play the hero for her, was filled with a coursing bravado.

"I mean... I say, What IS going on here?" He drew up his shoulders, and tried to stop his hands shaking so; it just wouldn't do for 'Cece' (for so he privately thought of her) to see him like this, when she so undoubtedly needed his help.

"Ahem... You sir! Unbind this dear lady at once!" It was a masterful speech, for all that it was so short. Sadly, the manly effect was marred by the squeak on the last two words. Somehow, Foster reflected, it was so much easier to manage things like this in his dream-filled thoughts than it was when confronted by a half dozen real opponents... even if he did have a gun. He'd much rather have one of the swords here, firearms were so chancy... His eyes darted to and fro for a moment as he tried to think of a way he might get at one of the blades. Now the pistol was useful... it was keeping these horrid people at bay, wasn't it, but if only he could...

Suddenly the pistol was in his hand no longer. He wasn't quite sure where it had gone. His dear Cece looked as if she was choking, and someone else seemed to be making some noise--a titter? a gasp? He was thoroughly confused, and hoped that this nightmare (didn't they always go odd like this near the end?) would end soon. He turned, looking bemusedly to see what might have become of the weapon. You never could tell with dreams, and clearly, he must be dreaming.

August Falcon, holding the pistol in his right hand, and a bun in his left, said, "Considering the recent events, I thought it best not to leave you children unsupervised for long. It seems I was correct. Tsk, pistols can be dangerous. I wouldn't play with them unless you quite know the situation, sir."

August Falcon, holding the pistol in his right hand, and a bun in his left, said, "Considering the recent events, I thought it best not to leave you children unsupervised for long. It seems I was correct. Tsk, pistols can be dangerous. I wouldn't play with them unless you quite know the situation, sir."

"The Mandarin?" thought Foster, stunned. His mouth and eyes opened wide, further reinforcing his resemblance to Cecily's now demised goldfish. Foster and his friends had been as fascinated by August Falcon's exploits as their fathers had been revolted by "a demmed half breed" being honored by His Majesty. Foster stared round the room, whose furnishing were tumbled about as though a whirlwind had sped through, to the two disheved ladies sitting side by side on the small sofa. One of them raised her glass in a trembling hand and drained the brown liquid in it. Foster's eyes moved again to to the Mandarin who was now leaning elegantly against the great teakwood desk. He looked no less the dangerous for the crumbs falling from the half eaten bun onto...

Cecily! Good Gad, Cecily! His goddess lay bound on the floor, her raven locks disordered, her elegant gown torn! Her glorious eyes were fixed on Falcon. Foster felt a surge of rage at how terrorized she must be, and he helpless to aid her. Oddly enough, Cecily did not look terrorized. Her gaze upward seemed to be focused on the sight of Falcon's tight breeches, just above her. Terror affected ladies in odd ways it seemed, but this was not the time to reflect on such matters. It was time to Act. The Thing to Do was clearly to attack Falcon, rescuing his lady or dying in the attempt.

"Villain, you shall p-p-pay for this outrage, " Foster ground out, pleased that although he had a slight stammer, he avoided The Squeak.

Before he could gather his forces to attack Falcon (he was waiting for the right moment, after all) the Mandarin stood up straight and bowed to the two ladies on the sofa. Cecily's eyes opened wider at the improved view of his backside. "My dears, Falcon drawled, "Do you find this room a bit crowded? I suggest we depart, before any new arrivals delay us further. I suppose there are one or two individuals in England who have not yet entered this room tonight."

Foster drew a deep breath and crouched, ready to attack Falcon. It was now or never. But...the pistol in Falcon's hand looked quite large and Falcon held it steady. It would never do to attack Falcon now, the pistol might fire and... injure the ladies. Best wait for a more opportune moment. Can't endanger a lady after all.

"Come, Flora," said the older lady. Flora dropped her glass on the floor. She moved slowly forward till she was standing over the injured man whom Foster now recognized as David Daventry whom Foster had never liked. Foster had always supected Daventry was playing fast and loose with Cecily's affections. Flora glared down at Daventry. Her ruby lips moved,

"You... David... You are despic... (hic), dispic... (hic) despic... (hic)..."

Falcon, holding his hand to her said, "I fancy you mean 'dispicable.' I also fancy you are just a trifle over the oar. Allow me to assist you, ma'am; our carriage awaits beyond the terrace, thanks to the excellent devices of Miss Dickens." With no further ceremony Falcon boosted the wavering Flora through the window and she staggered into the darkness.

Foster tensed again. Now was his chance, the other lady was out of range! She was looking sadly at Cecily and Sir Paul. Foster launched himself at Falcon and ripped the pistol from Falcon's grasp.

Astonished at how easy that had been, Foster flourished the pistol at Falcon. "Aha!!! Now the tables have been turned, have they not?" Keeping the pistol trained on Falcon, Foster stooped to Cecily and pulled the gag from her mouth. "Don't try to thank me, Miss Tilbury, I will release you as soon as I have dealt with This Fellow. Raise your hands, sir, and keep them within my sight. I am a crack shot," cried Foster dramatically, hoping he would not be called upon to prove his somewhat innaccurate boast. To his consternation, Falcon raised not his hands, but one eyebrow.

"Indeed? A crack shot! Dear me. Miss Tillbury, while I contemplate my fate, allow me to assist you. I am sure this ferocious fellow is gentleman enough not to shoot a lady."

Miss Tillbery (another Miss Tillbery?) passed Foster, casting him a reproachful glance, the Governess Special.

"Er, oh, no, ma'am, indeed, I would never seek to shoot you, I mean injure a lady, er, I..." Foster stammered. He cursed himself to hear the Squeak back in full force.

Cecily found her voice. "Anne, wait! Do not think you have won this round! Father and I can ruin you! Get us back that jewel and we will not reveal your true parentage... dear sister, " she spat out. "You still have a chance with that soi-disant Marquis, if father and I keep quiet. The sapphire will keep our mouths closed quite nicely!"

Anne pause and stared at her cousin, no, her sister. She shook her head sadly but answered steadily enough. "Cecily, you are not really evil. You could have killed me and didn't. In the name of sisterly affection, I beg you to change before it is too late. You and Uncle... " She shook her head to clear the confusion. You and Father can assist James and the King in stopping the General's plots before more people are hurt."

Her gentle words had no apparent affect on the recumbent beauty. Her eyes fairly shot fire and her laugh was bitter and shrill. "Fool! Live your life in misery if you choose, but I shall have all that I dream of!"

Anne shook her head, moved to the window, turned to receive Falcon's boost and was gone. Falcon was quick to follow her. Foster's Moment had arrived! All he had to do to rescue his lady was to shoot the Mandarin. But it wasn't sporting not to give a warning. And with the Mandarin leaving, actually, he supposed Cecily was no longer in need of rescue. Shrugging off this detail, Foster rushed to the window. There was a carriage right on the terrace!

"Halt! Or I will fire!" Foster called out in as stern a tone as he could manage.

Falcon laughed and jumped to onto the carriage steps. Foster squeezed both eyes shut as he squeezed the trigger. The resounding silence was his only reminder that his pistol was not loaded... and never had been.

Seaforth and Holt commandeered horses from the stables and headed across country in order to make the fastest possible time to London. As they neared a copse on the edge of Tillbury Park, they heard a shout and a horse and rider advanced to meet them. As they reigned in their horses, Holt leveled his pistol at the newcomer.

"Hold!" shouted Seaforth. "It's Martin."

"Have you seen Miss Flora, sir?" blurted Martin

"Miss Flora is fine and should be on her way back to London in a carriage soon," Seaforth replied.

"Thank goodness, I was real worried about her, sir."

Holt, realizing that they would need help back at the house, quickly removed a notebook from his pocket and scribbled a few lines. He handed the note to Martin with instructions to deliver it to the Military Captain currently residing in Bath.

"Hurry, Martin, the sooner the miscreants are arrested, the better," shouted Seaforth as he and Holt raced off down the road to London.

"Dam... er Blast!" yelled Falcon as one of the cats attempting to obtain a more secure purchase released her claws into his arm.

"Will someone please remove these creatures from my person?" he demanded as he closed the carriage door and it began to move down the yard towards the drive.

Anne, ecstatic since she would not have to leave her adored pets behind, willingly scooped them up and moved them to her lap. "Bastet! Boadicea!" crooned Anne, as both cats vying for attention, purred and butted their heads against her hands and face while the carriage sped on its way towards London.

"Cecily, I can't believe that cad Falcon treated you like this," said Foster.

"Ahem.. I don't... I really don't think you want to do that," drawled Roly.

Foster started, then slowly turned his head. He noticed a footman with a black patch brandishing a very nice colichemarde and beside him a stripling he remembered as Theo Havershaw. Foster's eyes widened as he realized that the footman was none other than Roland Fairleigh Mathieson. He gulped and backed away from Cecily.

"Thank you Mon Cher," responded Roly with a bow.

Cecily cursing under her breath, turned her head and continued to work on loosening the ropes that bound her.