All the breath came out of him. His brain burned with the idea of defeat. So much for the brotherhood and sisterhood of the Black-Eyed Broodies! What now? was the question that rang like an alarm bell in his ears.

There was a quiet click.

The door opened, and before Matthew stood Elizabeth Mulloy.

Her mouth was a grim line. Her eyes took in the damage done by Bogen. “I was waiting for you,” she said. Behind her about thirty feet was the light of the open door that led out to the pit. “They’re finishing up their breakfast. Samson will be taking them to their inns in about half an hour. What did you do with the coach?”

“It’s up the road, not far.”

“You had to kill the bodyguard,” she said, with a glance at the pistol.

“Not directly, but he’s taken care of.” He left the lantern where it was and passed her, walking cautiously toward the pit. “The drivers are out there somewhere.” He stopped just short of the pit and turned to face her. “Where are they keeping Julian?”

“The second floor, the third door on the right. There’s no guard but the door will be locked. I can’t help you with that.”

“And Firebaugh?”

“The first door on the left.”

“All right. Thank you. Will you do me one more thing?” Before she could reply, he said, “Bring me the book of potions. Please.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, I can’t do any more for you. I’ve got to make it appear that the door was left unlocked by mistake, so I have to return this key to the study. Then I wash my hands of it.”

Matthew doubted that any amount of washing could remove the bloodstains. “Very well. Just stay out of my way.”

She grasped his arm. “I ask you not to harm Samson.” Her eyes were imploring. “He’s all I have.”

Whatever the depth of their strange relationship was, Matthew had no time to ponder. He said, “I hope there’ll be no further violence. Go back to the others.”

She turned away and left him without another word. Matthew used the powderhorn to ready the pistol with a dry primer. Then he crossed the pit, climbed up the stone steps past the gallery and continued upward until he reached the closed door that led to the hallway. To the right would be the stairs and the entrance foyer, to the left would be the dining room with the parlor in the middle on the other side of the corridor. Where would the Owl’s men be? Still guarding the gate and the door? Scattered throughout the lower floor? In the parlor warming themselves? And how many were there? All questions he could not answer, but risks that must be taken.