Swiftly turning on the Frenchman, Crockett—his handsome visage wrought into an irate scowl—said: “Are you calling my pard a liar, mon-sewer?”

“Pas du tout,” replied the other indignantly. “I am merely stating that—though present from the very commencement of the ball—I observed no such masquerader.” With a haughty elevation of one eyebrow, he inquired: “Did you?”

This query appeared to catch the frontiersman off guard. “Why, no,” he replied in a somewhat flustered manner, “I can’t rightly say as I did.” Turning quickly to Russell, he proclaimed: “But that ain’t nothing. The keenest-eyed injun scout in the whole blamed world wouldn’t of noticed everyone. Why, there was as many folks at that shindig as piss-ants in a holler log.”

For a moment, Captain Russell stood in silent rumination, pinching his lower lip while casting a speculative gaze at Crockett. At length, he turned towards his young subordinates and declared: “McGrath. You and Blair go into the ballroom and interview the other witnesses. See if you can ascertain whether anyone observed a guest who was attired in the manner Mr. Poe has described.”

At this reference to the remaining partygoers, I was seized with a spasm of sudden and overpowering alarm. So distraught—so disoriented—had I been rendered by the catastrophic events of the evening that I had entirely forgotten about Virginia!

Reaching out a hand, I clutched at the fringed right sleeve of Crockett’s deerskin shirt and, in a tremulous voice, anxiously inquired as to my darling Sissy’s whereabouts.

“Don’t you fret none, ol’ hoss,” replied the frontiersman consolingly. “Maryanne Mullany has fetched her back home. I figgered this scene of infernal butchery wasn’t no place for the gals.”

Relinquishing my hold on the frontiersman’s garment, I emitted a heartfelt sigh of gratitude and relief. All at once, I grew cognizant of a peculiar commotion emanating from the direction of the doorway. Casting my gaze thitherward, I perceived that this disturbance was occasioned by a new arrival, who was attempting to make—or rather to force—his way through the press of onlookers congregated outside the room. A moment later, the crowd gave way, and a singular personage strode across the threshold. His identity was quickly established when—noticing his entrance—Captain Russell took a step in his direction and declared: “Welcome, Mr. Bedloe. I have been expecting you.”