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  We soon received news that Matthew Fisher-Swift had come bearing some news from one of the soldiers on guard about the place. York bade the men to bring him in and put him with the rest of us, for certainly having the Captain's ward would give him leverage enough to use against the Captain.

  Though he was, indeed, let in, Matthew thankfully recognized Col. York at once. He was able to elude the men around him, diving between one man's legs to get past them and race back out of the room. York immediately ordered pursuit.

  Most of the people about kept their guns on us, while York settled back again to continue his explanation of events. He assured us Matthew would be captured, and he had sent assassins to deal with Miss Bowe and Mr. Franzini. He would have our dirigible as soon as he had Matthew captured and would eventually achieve the two aims for which he'd been sent – satisfying his employer's bet regarding Dr. Bowe's work by putting an end to our mission, and capturing the secrets of Sir James's mechanical wonder, including the dirigible with the workshop.

  They had hoped that their female agent would be able to gain Sir James's cooperation without need for drugging and kidnapping, but he had so far refused her advances, and they felt time was growing short before they would be discovered. I could only guess that she really had known something of Sir James's fellow scholar, and that the man had come to a bad end because of it. Surely they would not risk that Sir James might know more of what had become of his peer than she had.

  I wondered again who would hire people of such character, and I remain much more curious than I had been about the motivations of our employer's opponent. By all accounts I had heard, Lord Montague was a man of great connections and the best reputation. For that matter, it remains now quite possible that he does not know he has such brigands working for him. Col. York may simply seek his own profit from all of this. There is much that is uncertain now.

  Despite the poisons administered, York admitted, Sir James still lived and would continue to live for at least as long as he still held valuable secrets. I remain fairly certain he must still be in this same building, for Col. York can have only so many men working for him and could not risk anyone outside his circle discovering his treachery.

  At last, York revealed why he was giving us all of the information now, for he had become quite smitten with Miss Coltrane while in England. While he had first intended to seek her out that he might glean some additional information about our trip, his infatuation had grown since her first refusal. He now offered to call off all assassins and release her brother along with us – if she would agree to marry him and I turned over my books and maps, with a letter to our employer admitting failure. With Miss Coltrane by his side to ensure our good behavior – and no certain record of our trip – we would not be able to prove anything in the way of wrongdoing from Col. York or Lord Montague. Meanwhile, he should have an appropriate bride to his station and an excellent match. Once more, out of some feeling that we might yet consider him a gentleman, he apologized for the manner of his proposal, but she had twice refused to even have a few words with him. I also gather that he is most unused to women declining his attentions, judging by his manner, his clearly simmering anger at mentioning her rejection, and Miss Wright's having initially found him fascinating. While her execution may be lacking, Miss Wright's tastes do tend to reflect the norm for her gender.

  Thankfully, though her concern for her brother and all of our safety was great, Miss Coltrane refused then to submit to his demands. She would neither be forced into marriage nor be used as some bargaining chip to be put before her brother to encourage his good behavior. She informed York that while she would share whatever accommodation the rest of us were given as prisoners, if he attempted to force any of the above conditions on her, she would resist until he had no option but to shoot her on the spot. Miss Coltrane may be a woman of great beauty and grace, but she also has her family's courage; I must give her that.

  Enraged by her answer, York was somewhat calmed when Miss Wright instead volunteered herself as hostage to ensure good behavior from the rest of us, and perhaps she could help calm Sir James's mind. I am not yet certain what her motive was for all of this, but he accepted the offer, and she was taken to him under guard. He informed us we would be given some time to think on our refusal. The large man, who spoke in a thick Irish accent, approached us then and led us to an upstairs room. He informed us that though there was a window, as with all of these Southern buildings, there were people on the ground below on patrol, and our door would be under constant guard. He suggested that Miss Coltrane should reconsider Col. York's proposal for the good of all of us. Likewise, I should strongly consider writing to our employer to admit failure in our endeavors.

  Eddy was bound especially securely, sitting, his hands tied behind his back after the rope had been wound around the leg of a heavy dresser. His ankles were bound as well, and then he was gagged for additional measure. Miss Coltrane and Miss Penn were both bound and placed in slightly greater comfort upon a large bed in this room, one of the unused rooms of an inn, currently used to house nothing but Col. York and his men in comfort. Both women were bound wrist and ankle, sitting at the edge of the bed. The men under Col. York's command have made some crude comments towards them, but thankfully have so far been too afraid of the Colonel to try to carry any of these things out.

  Meanwhile, I am in a position of greater freedom and comfort, but have been given a particular quandary. They have chained me to a heavy and sturdy writing desk by the ankle. I have been brought a pen and paper, and instructions to carefully report our failure. If I do so, Col. York has offered me some negotiation towards our current situation. My fellows have urged me not to give in to these demands, but with so many lives on the line, I am now uncertain what to do.

  In the meantime, I document our situation both to keep my mind clear and help me consider our situation, but more importantly, should something happen to us, I retain hope that some of the soldiers passing through to check on us – or that might investigate eventually – are of good character and loyalty to England, and here they might find a report of Col. York's treachery.

  Right now, the power of the pen is all I have left to me, and I will use it to the greatest service I may in these difficult circumstances.

  From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,

  January 24th, 1816

  New Orleans

  29º57'N 090º04'W

  Hope and help came from an unexpected source. We had suffered through the first few checks by the soldiers loyal enough to Col. York to be entrusted with checking in on us, enough to gain some idea of their schedule. When we had been here for a time, and I had almost started my letter a dozen times, only to stop myself each time, Miss Penn finally risked whispering to Miss Coltrane. She suggested that she still had her bodice knife, and if Miss Coltrane could get to it, they might be able to cut their bonds.

  There were multiple difficulties with this, of course. Not only getting to the small blade, but also that even freed, we were in no position to fight our way out of the room or make an attempt at escape with our comrades in danger or captured. Miss Coltrane reminded her of all of this, but it was eventually agreed that she should try to get free, and with some greater options than simply sitting, we might be able to assess our slightly expanded options. Though it would quickly become obvious if Eddy were freed, for example, the women could easily conceal their freed hands amidst their dresses, and without close scrutiny, no one just happening into the room on a check would notice. This left only a single difficulty now.

  After some brief and uncomfortable discussion between the two, Miss Penn thrust her chest forward like the most wanton of women seeking attention, and Miss Coltrane, with much polite and ladylike cursing, shifted herself about in her bonds as much as she could and attempted to fish the knife out with her teeth. While I should very much like to say that I looked away, or at least that Eddy did, I am afraid that the truth is that it was quite impossible not to watch this
unusual feat in the doing. Eventually, she succeeded somehow or other in producing the knife. She managed to drop it onto the bed and turn herself back about.

  It was then that I noticed another pair of very wide eyes observing us. Matthew was at the window, staring wide-eyed at the women on the bed. I did not say anything at the time, not believing that further embarrassing Miss Coltrane would in any way help our situation. Miss Penn managed to get her hands on the knife and, with more maneuvering and complaint – and a great deal of cautioning her to be most careful with the knife – Miss Penn managed to mostly free Miss Coltrane before guards came in. Somehow she managed to palm the knife enough that they did not notice, and Miss Coltrane likewise managed to conceal the partially cut bonds, and when I looked to the window, Matthew was out of sight.

  When they left, the bonds were severed the rest of the way, and Matthew reappeared. This time, I quietly pointed him out to the others. Miss Coltrane took the knife and freed her ankles, that she might have her full mobility returned. Then she freed Miss Penn's hands, but it was agreed we should not yet free her ankles, for under her slightly shorter skirts, it might become obvious that the ropes had been cut. Using the paper and pen from my desk, Miss Coltrane quickly made up a sign, for I was in no position where Matthew could easily see me and whatever I might write.

  Matthew, meanwhile, kept glancing about nervously, concerned about being seen, but having somehow found himself in a position where he had hand and footholds enough to remain hugged to the wall by our window and pulling his head and upper body up to where he could see in. She wrote him a quick note telling him to warn Miss Bowe, and where she should be re-entering the city. I am uncertain as to just how much education Matthew has, but he seemed to understand. He climbed back upward, and the note was hidden again.

  We now have warning going to the stealthiest member of our company, and Matthew, if he can reach her, knows our location. We are in much the same predicament as before; Sir James remains in their grasp, being interrogated for details about his mechanical wonder. Miss Wright is directly with the villain, and we are held here. We are discussing what other options may come to us. Since we are sorely outnumbered and both obvious ways out of this room are guarded, we are hoping our absent companions might prevail still.

  In the meanwhile, we give them no obvious reason to injure our compatriots. So long as York thinks he might break her will yet, Miss Coltrane does not believe we are in mortal danger. Should we get sign that the situation has grown more desperate, we will likewise resort to more desperate options. Eddy is fairly certain he could manage some kind of escape were he alone and his bonds cut, but with the women and the hostages in danger, he would not prefer to risk it, and he does not believe his means of escape would work to free all of us. A single soldier, trained as a hunter and rifleman, might take avenues of escape not available to delicate women in full dress.

  I continue to document our situation to help me keep clarity of thought and to appear to be at work, which seems to satisfy the apparently illiterate guards they have checking on us from time to time. The ruse works for the moment. For now, my prayers are with a young boy with more courage and better wits than most grown men I have known. If any good fortune is still ours, perhaps the good standing Miss Bowe earned in risking so much to save young Mr. Fisher-Swift is now about to be repaid.

  From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,

  January 24th or 25th, 1816

  New Orleans

  29º57'N 090º04'W

  I find myself again relying upon the truthfulness of young Mr. Fisher-Swift, but the situation seems to bear out that the facts are as he has related to me. He recognized Col. York as the dark-haired man he'd seen giving instructions to the loaders back in New York. He fled straightaway before he could be as trapped as the rest of us. Ducking around a corner, he was lucky enough to have a head start on the pursuers, with no one directly around that corner. His first instinct told him to keep fleeing, but his better sense told him that he would be seen and stopped sooner or later. Not only were the soldiers certainly faster than he was, but a running boy of his age out on the streets is often deemed up to no good.

  He saw a pile of discarded crates and debris and used them to climb to where he could just get a handhold on an upper story window if he jumped. He failed the first time, putting his foot through the top of a crate, but it held, if somewhat less steadily, and he succeeded on his second jump. He just managed to pull himself into the shallow recess of the window as soldiers came around the corner below. Though they scoured the area for a time, none happened to look up, and he managed to hold his breath and keep his balance long enough to not be seen.

  They passed, and he managed to climb onto the roof, almost falling more than once. No one sought to look for him up there, and he saw several men leaving the old inn at a fast pace, probably out looking for him. He also saw the Spaniard he'd seen before in New York, the one who'd later made Miss Bowe's time in the wilderness of the coast more interesting. The man seemed unchanged to Matthew, save that his collection of pistols was one fewer. On the opposite hip to his bullwhip was a sword that Matthew declared 'old-looking.'

  The Spaniard was with a few other armed men heading off at a more leisurely pace than those likely seeking Matthew. The boy eventually timed the patrols below, then began trying to find us again, sliding down to hang over the edge of the roof and peering, upside down, in one window after another, ducking back up any time he saw signs of their soldiers.

  When he finally found us, he almost had climbed all the way down when we were checked on, and he just managed to pull himself up before they noticed him. Eventually he gathered his nerves and took another look to see us setting about freeing ourselves. He read Miss Coltrane's note and fortunately had been on the indicated street earlier in our visit.

  He made his way there while avoiding any guard patrols. He may not have been as fortunate if Col. York had been able to send out his decree that he should be found to a wider circle, but there is little doubt that it would have led to quite the conflict among the soldiery if they had had to all decide their loyalties between Col. York and the company of Sir James, regardless who had taken command there. I can only imagine York was keeping such missions to his mercenaries and companions alone. On the other hand, he had sent so many of the soldiers out of the city and reinforced them with men he had paid for their loyalties, we could not be sure who was working for him and who was not. We certainly could not have expected Matthew to do so.

  Once at Miss Bowe's entrance to the city, he managed to make his way, again, to the rooftops. I suppose so much of young life aboard an airship, with all of its ropes and pipes and such – and needing to access anywhere that might have rats and mice in abundance – would help a child become a strong climber. He climbed to the top of a building and, seeing no one else, scouted out what hiding places he might make use of. In time he heard voices and peeked over the edge of the roof to see a few American soldiers, accompanied by the Spaniard he recognized, speaking with one of the owners of the local shops. They reached some agreement, and the men began to deploy around the area in hiding. One with a Baker rifle made his way to an adjoining rooftop, and Matthew scrambled back to a hiding place before he was discovered.

  Shortly thereafter, Miss Bowe made her way back into town and into the teeth of the ambush. Had she any reason to suspect such a thing, or were she in a more natural element to her, I cannot be certain she would have needed the help, but this time, he said, she showed no sign of being aware of the cowardly assault. He took aim with his slingshot, and as the sniper was taking aim on the arrival, he fired, striking the man in the side of the head. The rifle fired, but off by some few feet. Close enough to warn Miss Bowe that the shot was, indeed, intended for her.

  Had there been even a moment of confusion, with so many guns to the opposition, she likely still would have been lost, but from the moment of the shot, Matthew says she was racing for the greater cover of the city. Musket fi
re erupted, but none of the gunmen successfully found their target. Matthew says he stood up, jumping about and shouting to her where men were hidden, and Miss Bowe has agreed that she saw him at this act of simultaneous bravery and stupidity.

  The added noise split some part of the muskets, and while the cover of the roofs was enough that he thankfully was not hit, he was close enough to the edge that she might see him, and the first shots were not far off. He set off running for cover, with men scrambling to the level of the rooftops as quickly as they could to get after him. He said one got quite close, but when Matthew turned and shot him with his slingshot, the man tumbled off of the rooftop, having been too close to the edge. Finding a place to hide and keeping quiet enough then that a few men moved by him, he watched as a peculiar scene unfolded. Miss Bowe has done little other than confirm Matthew's report, so I remain reliant upon his information for this account.

  He insists that Miss Bowe could not simply climb the walls, but instead, reached the cover of the buildings, then, on the run, jumped high enough to take hold of a second story balcony and pulled herself up. The Spaniard followed almost as quickly, using his whip as a tool to assist in scaling the walls. Others of his company also followed upward, but more clumsily than either Miss Bowe or the Spaniard. Matthew reports there was a duel between the pair on the rooftops when he caught up with her. The pair circled for a time while the Spaniard tried to delay her long enough to allow his reinforcements to arrive. He does not know what words were exchanged between the pair, only that they spoke, with the Spaniard grinning like a court fool the whole time.

  After those few words, both went for their weapons. The bullwhip was dropped in favor of his sword, and the pair clashed a number of times, with the sword's greater reach and his skill balancing out Miss Bowe's skill with her knives. She was finally distracted by one of York's men reaching the top of the building. He made a clumsy grab at her, and she was able to knock him back off the edge of the building. This distracted her long enough for the Spaniard to go for one of his guns instead. Miss Bowe threw a knife, disarming him of the gun, though he was quick enough to prevent it from being a more grievous wound. As Matthew learned some new words in Spanish, Miss Bowe seized the moment and jumped to the next building over, making an impressive leap Matthew didn't initially believe possible. The soldiers who had reached the rooftops fired after her, none hitting. The Spaniard recovered his gun and whip and went after her. Without Miss Bowe's athleticism or the Spaniard's expert use of his tools, no other could keep up.