“While I appreciate your sense of indignation at the Frenchman’s somewhat supercilious manner,” I said in a voice only slightly louder than a whisper, “I cannot help but wonder, Colonel Crockett, if your proposal is entirely well-advised. Our mission, after all, is to maintain a careful and unremitting watch over our hostess. Surely, your contest with the Count can only serve to distract our attention from this overriding purpose.”

“Don’t you go fretting about it, Poe. Miz Nicodemus’ll be standin’ right beside me the whole time. You just keep your eyes peeled, while I take care of that pesky furriner. Hell, it’ll all be over in less time than it takes to skin a badger.” Then—after bestowing a reassuring pat upon my shoulder—he offered his arm to the Mullany woman and strode towards the opposite end of the ballroom, where the entire assembly was gaily streaming through the wide-flung French windows and out into the moonlit garden.

By this point, Virginia had sought me out and was regarding me with bright, scintillant eyes. “Ooh, Eddie,” she exclaimed in her seraphic voice. “Imagine! We will actually get to see Colonel Crockett shoot his legendary rifle.”

“Come, then, my lovely Galatea,” said I. “Let us join the others.” Taking her by the arm, I ushered her toward the garden, pausing only briefly to secure another cup of rum punch before proceeding into the surpassingly balmy spring night.

By the time Sissy and I joined the rest of the party, Crockett and his opponent had already agreed upon a site for their competition. This was an extensive and neatly trimmed lawn, encompassed on three sides by a border of privet hedges. In the center of this grassy expanse, at a distance of approximately one hundred yards from its southernmost boundary, stood a gigantic—gnarled—and excessively ancient oak tree. So inordinately bright was the moonlight emanating from the gibbous orb that the entire scene was illuminated with an almost preternatural clarity.

As the party of revellers arranged themselves about the periphery of the lawn, Mrs. Nicodemus issued an order to her elderly manservant, Toby, who hurried back into the mansion, returning several moments later with a deck of playing cards, a hammer, and a nail. Repairing to the oak tree, he extracted a single card from the pack and—with his hammer and nail—affixed it to the center of the trunk at approximately shoulder height. Even in the exceedingly radiant moonlight, however, the markings of the card were impossible to discern at such a great distance. This necessitated another brief delay, while the uncomplaining servitor was dispatched to fetch a flambeau from one of the sconces in the ballroom. Following his return, he was directed to stand beside the oak tree with the torch extended so as to illuminate the playing card, which—it could now be seen—was the ace of spades.