Fanny was ready to believe that London was a city constantly wreathed in fog. The next morning the same heavy, yellow mist gave everything a ghostly air. She, along with the four other vagrants, cautiously emerged from the tomb and made their way out of the tiny graveyard to the street. Had the verger arrived early enough to witness their leaving he would have been bound to consider it a mass resurrection!
On reaching the street the two old women lurched off by themselves, shawls over their heads. Silas Hodder watched them go with a resigned expression on his gaunt face. “We only see them at night,” he said. “Around dusk they’ll come back to the tomb again. What they do in the meanwhile I can’t guess!”
Moll gave a little laugh. “And perhaps it’s best not to try! One thing is certain, they always raise the price of a bottle of gin!”
“That they do,” the tall man in the black top hat and suit agreed. He gave Fanny a smile. “Now we shall go and have our breakfast. And perhaps we can think of some employment for you.”
Thank you,” Fanny said. “I’m quite prepared to buy my own breakfast and treat the two of you, as well. I have almost two pounds saved.”
“Keep it, my dear girl,” Silas Hodder warned her. “You will have sore need of it to exist in London, especially if we can’t think of some gainful work for you.”
“Mr. Hodder has a first class place for us to eat and it’s all paid for,” Moll told her with a smile on her pinched face. The girl looked more attractive by day but her clothes were terribly shabby.
Silas Hodder showed a smile on his skull-face framed by shoulder-length gray hair. He said, “I guarantee you a breakfast as fine as you’ll find anywhere in London! Even the toffs can’t do better!”
The three of them made their way along a series of narrow streets in the thick fog. The streets were filled with people now and Fanny was stunned at seeing so many people in such a hurry.
“Is the city as busy as this every day?” she asked.
“Every day and a good part of the night,” Moll assured her. “Greatest city in the world!”
“Give pause!” Silas Hodder told the girl. “You have not seen Paris. As a boulevardier of some experience I can vouch for the many offerings of that city!”
“Wouldn’t hold a candle to London, I’m sure,” Moll said firmly. “Those Frenchies could never match us!”
They waited for a dray to rumble by and then hurried across a narrow street to find themselves staring at a sign, “Branscomb the Baker.” Silas Hodder led them in a side door which led to the rear of the premises. They entered the busy kitchen and sat at a plain wooden table removed from the hurly-burly of the oven area. Two fat men and six or seven boys kept filling the great ovens with items to be baked and taking the savory-smelling food cooked out.
An elderly woman in apron and dustcap brought them plates with bread and cheese, along with a large pot of tea. The dried-up face of the old woman broke into a tremulous smile as she said, “Right on time, Mr. Hodder! You are a gent who keeps on a schedule.”
“Early training, my dear,” Silas Hodder said with pride. “I have a guest this morning, a Miss Fanny Hastings, lately come to London.”
“Pleased to know you, miss,” the thin woman greeted her. “You’re welcome! Eat hearty!”
The cheese, bread and tea were fresh and Fanny wolfed her share down. The old woman came with another half loaf of bread for them and an extra chunk of cheese. Silas Hodder carefully divided it among them.
Fanny asked him, “Do you know the owner, since he is so generous with you?”
“Know him, my girl! I may say I’m employed by him,” Silas Hodder said. “Between my engagements at the various pubs I tread the streets for two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon bearing the yoke of yonder sign upon my shoulders!”
Fanny glanced up the wall where he’d pointed and for the first time saw a sandwich-board sign folded and leaning there. It was painted white and in large red letters announced, “Branscomb’s is Best! Fine Bakery 10 A Canon Street.”
Moll smiled at her across the plank table. “In exchange for being a sandwich-board man, Silas is given all he can eat and free meals for any friends he brings along. I come with him regular and so can you.”
Silas waved an expansive hand. “All paid for!”
“That’s very good,” Fanny agreed. “So right off you both have free bed and board!”
Moll turned up her nose at the mention of this. “I’m not saying I enjoy sleeping in a graveyard but in winter the nights are cold and Silas manages to keep our tomb nice and warm.”
“Nothing wrong with graveyards as resting places,” the gaunt-faced Silas said. “For some, it’s eternal rest; for us it is a more pleasant temporary arrangement.”
“Breaking us in for what’s to come!” The sharp Moll burst into laughter at her own sally.
Silas remonstrated with her, raising a protesting hand. “No unseemly humor, girl. Be grateful. Now let us put our minds to what our new found friend, Fanny, can do to earn a living.”
“She could try my game,” Moll said. “I can teach her the tricks!”
Fanny at once said, “Thank you, Moll. But I haven’t the nerve for it. I could never carry it off!”
Moll grinned. “Not much to it. A bit of sniffling and a mention of the Dear Departed. Then a sad smile for the babe to come. By that time they’re thrusting a sovereign or two in your palm and pushing you out the door.”
Silas Hodder said, “I’m sure Fanny is seeking something a trifle more … respectable.”
“I would like to make my way on the stage,” Fanny said. “My late father was an actor and I have always wanted to follow in his footsteps.”
“The stage,” Silas Hodder repeated. “Now let me see. I must know someone connected with the theatre.”
“All those blokes you meet in the taverns are well connected,” Moll agreed. “At least one of them must have a friend on the stage.”
Silas Hodder’s skull-like countenance suddenly brightened. He thumped a fist in the palm of his hand and exclaimed, “I’ve got it! The very thing! You’re as good as hired!”
Fanny couldn’t believe her good fortune. It made her almost forget her pain at leaving Brenmoor and George. She exclaimed, “You mean you can find me a post in the theatre?”
Silas nodded. “I can! It is not actually in a regular theatre but in the entertainment profession! I can assure you of that! The owner of the establishment is an old friend of mine, Mr. Gilbert Tingley.”
Moll showed amazement. “Of course! I never thought of him! The very man.” And to Fanny, she said, “Gilbert Tingley’s Emporium of Wonder is the finest thing of its kind in London!”
Fanny said, “Emporium of Wonder? What sort of show is it?”
“A compendium of the bizarre and the unusual,” Silas Hodder said grandly. “In short, my girl, a collection of mechanical and human freaks!”
“Freaks!” Fanny said in dismay.
Moll nodded happily. “You ought to see the fat woman! A mortal sight! Weighs close to four hundred pounds, they say!”
Silas Hodder said, “Tingley is a model employer. He pays well, considering he charges only a penny for a walk through his place, and the people in his show live in rooms upstairs, very good rooms, and eat in a community dining hall in the basement. Three wholesome meals a day!”
“It’s a kind offer,” she said. “But even if Mr. Tingley would have me it isn’t exactly what I’m looking for. I’d like to try to find something in a regular theatre.”
Silas Hodder and Moll exchanged looks. Then the gaunt man told her, “Fanny, let me impress upon you that everyone in London is not as kind as I am. This is a hard city for a young girl. And for a young female looking for employment in the theatre the risks are monstrous!”
Moll agreed soberly. “What Silas is saying is true. I near wound up in a house of shame when I came here. I would have but for him.”
Silas continued, “My advice would be to take a job with Mr. Tingley if he can find a place for you. Get to know London, and in your free time look for this stage employment you are seeking, with the knowledge you have both work and friends behind you.”
Fanny listened and realized the truth of what he was telling her. If she took a job in the freak show, doing goodness knows what, she would have time to learn something of London. She would also make some contacts of at least a semi-theatrical nature. As it was, she would exhaust her small savings in a short time while she looked for work. And as Moll pointed out, she might end up in some desperate plight.
With a small smile for Silas, she said, “You are most kind. And I will accept your help in this.”
“You’ll not regret it,” the gaunt man promised. “The Emporium of Wonders is closed in the mornings, so you would have all your mornings to study the city and look for better work.”
Moll said, “You’re a beauty and if you have any talent you’ll get on the stage one day! You talk so nice!”
Silas rose from the table. “I must go on my rounds with the sign. Moll will stay with you and you can meet me outside the Duke’s Tavern at sharp two this afternoon!”
Moll looked delighted as she confided to Fanny, “I’ll take the morning off and show you some of the shops the toffs patronize!”
Fanny said, “I’d like to see the Houses of Parliament and St. Paul’s Cathedral.”
“I’ll show you them, too,” Moll promised.
And she did. The morning went by swiftly. Fanny had her first experience of using the crowded, rough-riding horse cars. But Moll did know her way around the city and they covered a great deal of ground. They had a lunch in a small restaurant which served good food in plain fashion and in humble quarters. It was a far cry from the grandeur of the tables at Brenmoor but Fanny saw it as a different and exciting existence.
At two o’clock they met Silas Hodder outside the plush Duke’s Tavern. He was in a good mood and confided to them, “I have done well this noon. My gentleman friends of better days were most generous. You’ve brought me luck, Fanny. Now let us see what I can do for you.”
They left Molly to begin her own day’s work and walked along a series of mean streets until they came to a short side-street which had a dead end. Here over a grubby three-storey building was a painted canvas sign, “Emporium of Wonders—Freaks of the World! Open daily except Sunday from 2 p.m. until 9 p.m.”
Silas Hodder knew the building and took her to a door in an alley which was unlocked. He led her up a dingy flight of stairs and knocked on a battered wooden door which bore a small white board on which was printed in plain black letters, “Gilbert Tingley, Manager.” Silas gave her a knowing look and then knocked on the door.
A high-pitched voice cried out, “Don’t bother me now! I’m doing my bills!”
Silas leaned close to the door and spoke loudly in reply. “It is Silas Hodder and I have news of advantage to you!”
A sound which might have been a groan came in answer to this statement. There was a shuffling noise and then the door was opened by a little man with a black mustache wearing a plaid vest and brown tweed trousers. He had a stoop and he peered out at them as if he were short-sighted.
A look of annoyance on his pinched face, Gilbert Tingley asked, “What is it you want to tell me, Silas?”
“What sort of hospitality is this? Are you not going to invite me and this charming young lady in, Gilbert?” Silas Hodder said in hearty fashion.
Appearing pained, the little man stood back for them to enter. “All right,” he said peevishly. “I might as well put the bills aside since I don’t have enough to pay them in any case.”
Silas said, “May I present Fanny Hastings, a brilliant young actress from the provinces, temporarily at liberty. I have assured her that you are always on the lookout for talent.”
Gilbert Tingley listened to this and then stared at her with his pale blue short-sighted eyes. He said, “You have a pretty face. What about experience?”
“I sing and dance a little,” she said nervously.
“No good here,” he said abruptly. “Have you ever been a freak?”
“What an absurd question to ask this lovely girl!” Silas Hodder declared.
The little man’s Adam’s apple bobbed above his hard collar and bright red cravat. He said, “Nothing absurd about it! Sit down, both of you! All Gilbert Tingley asks is a plain answer to a plain question! Has this girl ever been a freak?”
Fanny sat in the nearest chair and Silas chose one by the impresario’s roll-top desk which was littered with papers, presumably bills. She said, “No, sir. Never!”
“Right!” The little man said. “Do you think you could be!”
“I should try very hard,” Fanny promised.
“Proper spirit,” the little man said, sitting at his desk. “I put it to you this way. Lodgings and board found and five shillings a fortnight! What do you say?”
Silas Hodder spoke up, “She says yes, of course. Not a generous offer, but then she is a beginner.”
Fanny asked worriedly, “What sort of freak do you propose to make of me?”
Gilbert Tingley studied her with his weak eyes. “You are fortunate I happen to have a vacancy. We have just lost our mermaid. Ran off with a fish peddler! He kept coming to see her night after night! She seemed to fair fascinate him! I should have seen the danger and discouraged him from coming. But I didn’t, and now we’ve lost a star attraction.”
Silas said, “You are saved! Fanny will make a beautiful mermaid!”
Fanny was still dubious about the project. She wanted to know, “What sort of costume must I wear?”
Gilbert Tingley was all business. “A fishtail which fits about the hips and hides the lower portion of your body. Made by the top theatrical costurner in London. The scales are that real you have to see them to believe it! A most gorgeous tail! For the upper portion you wear a rose-tinted, tight-fitting vest to show your maidenly form to advantage!”
“But it is a modest costume, Mr. Tingley?” she said anxiously.
“Nothing is revealed, miss, but your two bare arms and your neck. The rest of your upper parts are outlined in a way to cause the male eye to stare and enjoy, and the lower portion is a work of art. You recline upon a platform painted bright blue to suggest the sea.”
Silas Hodder gave her a look of encouragement. “It is a great opportunity, Fanny.”
She felt it was much less than that but at least she would be safe and cared for in this place. She still hadn’t recovered from the shock of being pursued by the ugly little dwarf and his equally unpleasant companion the previous night. She had seen them kill a man and she would never be safe from them if they caught up with her.
Another benefit of playing a mermaid occurred to her. It was entirely unlikely that George would look for her in a museum of freaks. It would be an ideal place for her to hide for a time.
She said, “I’ll accept the post, Mr. Tingley.”
“Excellent,” he said. “I’ll show you to your room and have our wardrobe mistress, who is also our housekeeper, fit you to the fishtail!”
So Fanny’s future in London was launched. She thanked Silas Hodder profusely and he promised to return and see her when she made her first appearance that evening. He then left and Gilbert Tingley took her upstairs to a tiny cubicle of a room. But it was clean enough and Fanny was satisfied. The owner of the freak show left her to rest a little. But shortly after, a big, red-faced woman with the smell of gin on her breath arrived with the elegant fishtail.
“Have to be taken in a good bit,” the big woman said, breathing heavily while she fixed pins in what appeared to Fanny a rather sensational costume.
“What about the upper part?” Fanny worried.
The big woman frowned as she went on with her pinning. “Do you have a blouse what fits you tight?”
She considered. “Yes. A white one. My best.”
“Cut the sleeves off and wear it,” the woman said. “Nothing here that would fit you.”
“Must I cut the sleeves off?”
“No other way,” the big woman told her flatly as she stood back to judge the fitting of the fishtail. “Mr. Tingley likes his mermaid to show a bit of flesh. The arms are safest, though a low cut bosom is good.”
“I’m sure the blouse will be fine. It has a rather low neckline,” Fanny said.
The big woman pulled the fishtail off and said, “Time for the noon meal. In the cellar. Community table. Give you a chance to meet the others.”
Even before she reached the bottom of the dark stairway leading to the cellar she was able to smell a pleasant aroma of food and hear loud talking and laughing. When she stepped down into the big room with its long plank table and chairs all along it, she found herself faced by the strangest group of people she had ever met.
Looming in the forefront was the Fat Lady who smiled at her amiably, and next to her was a man so thin and doleful Fanny knew it had to be the Human Skeleton. Across from these two sat a black man with a shaved head and some kind of bone through his nose, undoubtedly the Wild Man from Borneo! Next to him sat a midget, perfectly formed and pleasant looking but not more than three feet tall. There were a lot of others at the table whom she could not identify at a glance but later found to be a Fire-eater, Tatooed Lady, Pincushion Man plus a Bat Lady with webbed hands!
Gilbert Tingley was seated at the head of the table like a proud father to his collection of freaks. He saw Fanny and came down the room to greet her. He seated her in a place of honor on his right, while the webbed-handed Bat Lady, who appeared to be his lady friend by their conversation, sat on his left.
The little man rose and with a twitch of his mustache said, “Important announcement! Beginning this evening, Miss Fanny Hastings, an actress of impressive experience despite her youth, will appear with us as the Mermaid Lady!”
There were cries of approval and a round of applause. Fanny felt touched that they had received her so kindly and smiled her thanks, blushing delightfully all the while.
The beef which was served was delicious, as was the rest of the meal. The kitchen was at one end of the big cellar which made the serving of meals easy. Nor was drink excluded as Mr. Tingley saw that a mug of ale was placed by every plate. Fanny was slow in drinking hers.
“Drink up!” her new employer urged her. “A small bounty which I offer my people.”
“You are too generous,” she told him.
The little man shook his head. “Not at all! Gilbert Tingley has a large heart! I would do more if conditions allowed it!”
The Bat Lady, whose features showed signs of good looks long faded, offered a simpering smile and assured Fanny, “You will find Mr. Tingley a joy to work for. I would retire if he gave up the Emporium.”
“Thank you, my dear,” Gilbert Tingley said fondly taking one of her webbed hands in his. It was obvious that his bad vision allowed him to delude himself that he was courting a beauty.
“You speak very nicely, Miss Hastings,” the Bat Lady said. “No doubt your training as an actress has given you a desirable accent.”
“My father was also in the theatre,” Fanny replied, for something to say.
Gilbert Tingley frowned. “The entertainment business is in a sorry state. The freak shows have been hurt by too many fakes. Offering two-headed babies made of clay in bottles filled with liquid and trying to pass them off as real. Disgusting! Gilbert Tingley offers only genuine freaks! But we suffer from the chicanery of others! Still I shall carry on, come what may!”
There were more cheers from the table at this and Fanny saw that they were a warm-hearted and emotional lot of people who regarded themselves as a family. She could not have imagined such a place or such people but here she was in the midst of them, about to become one of them. Life was indeed filled with strange twists!
• • •
That evening she made her appearance in the main room of the Emporium of Wonders. During a short interval when the show was closed to visitors she discreetly took her place on the wooden platform provided for her and with the assistance of the housekeeper-seamstress, pulled on the now snug-fitting fishtail. She had adapted her white blouse for the upper portion and was assured by the fat lady on the platform next to her, that she looked “ever so pretty!”
It took her a little while to become accustomed to the customers who sidled by gawking at her in various states of awe. Following Gilbert Tingley’s instructions she preserved a demure dignity and gazed soulfully off above the heads of those who had paid their pennies to see the various freaks. She pretended not to hear the comments which varied from humorous to lascivious.
A brace of sailors from the Royal Navy came in and jocularly declared they were going to gather her up and carry her off to their ship. But a dignified Gilbert Tingley put in an appearance and they moved on with merely a parting wink for her.
Later in the evening Silas Hodder and Moll arrived and stood admiring her. “You look born to it,” Moll enthused.
“You do have an air, Fanny,” the gaunt man told her. “We’re going to miss you in the tomb tonight.”
“You livened things up with your story and all,” Moll agreed.
“I shall miss your company,” she told them. “You must come here when you can and keep in touch with me.”
“Never fear,” Silas Hodder assured her. “I’m going to continue to search for a more suitable position for one of your beauty and talents.”
Even though she felt he was merely saying this to be kind to her, she appreciated his words. So began Fanny’s sojourn with the freak show. In time it all began to seem quite normal to her. She made particular friends of the Fat Woman and the Human Skeleton, who happened to be man and wife.
October came and the nights were cold. In the melancholy autumn weather her own thoughts took on a gray turn. Her mind often went back to Brenmoor and her life there. For just a short while she had been so supremely happy. But she sadly realized that the old Marquis had been right. The gentry would never have accepted a servant as wife to the Viscount. She and George had been living in a romantic rose-colored dream, tinted by their passion.
She often met Moll and together they made trips to every part of the city. She became very fond of the beggar girl who lived by her wits in spite of her dubious profession. Sometimes Silas Hodder would join them and they would have fish and chips at a favorite place of his.
Fanny’s life was settling down to a comfortable routine, it seemed. But it was not to last. In the first week in November Gilbert introduced a new attraction called “The Mechanical Man”. It was a metal man seated on a large box and when a switch was turned the man lifted up its hand and removed its blue top hat; the hat was then returned to place and the man’s eyes moved in a most interesting fashion.
The new device was to be installed on the other side of the Fat Lady and she much resented it. Privately she told Fanny, “It’s a fraud! And Tingley has always tried to avoid such fakery before! I’m shocked by this! You know, there’s a dwarf hidden in the box at the bottom. It is he who manipulates the metal man with wires and levers! Mechanical Man, indeed!”
But Gilbert Tingley found the new addition attracted some extra business so he was enthusiastic about it. Fanny did not pay much attention to it until one evening after the museum closed she saw a new operator make his way out of the door at the back of the box. She thought she would faint. It was none other than the ugly little Snipe, whom she’d seen help his partner, Martin, in the murder of a man her first night in London!
She had come down from her platform and was standing with the Fat Woman. She pretended not to notice Snipe and hoped he wouldn’t recognize her. But she saw in a moment that he had. He stared at her hard and then turned away, pretending indifference. She had not been deceived by this and began to worry about whether he was living in the house.
Gilbert Tingley came by on his closing rounds and nodded pleasantly to her and the Fat Woman. “Good evening, ladies,” he said.
Fanny took advantage of the moment to step up to him and ask, “This new dwarf! The one operating the mechanical man! I’m sure I’ve seen him before. I believe him to be a criminal!”
Tingley’s mustache twitched and his mild face showed surprise. “I think you must be mistaken, my dear. His name is Snipe and he seems very good at the task assigned him. Dwarfs are not easy to come by, you know!”
Upset, she said, “I saw him and another man attack a gentleman on his doorstep one night. I’m sure they killed him. Snipe knows I’m a witness and I fear he may do me harm. Is he going to live here?”
“Yes,” Tingley said. “But I’m certain you must have made an error. Snipe is a mild little man. Reserved, but not a criminal type.”
Fanny suspected he was arguing on the dwarf’s behalf because he’d hired him cheaply and wanted to keep him on. She worried, “How can I protect myself?”
“I am always here,” Gilbert Tingley told her. “If the chap bothers you, come to me. Keep the bolt closed on your bedroom door at night and think no more about him.”
She tried to follow her employer’s advice but it did not work well. Snipe was around a good deal and while he avoided her company he made her fearful. When Moll came by she told her about her problem.
Moll wrinkled her brow and said. “I’ll ask Mister Hodder what he thinks you ought to do.”
“I wish you would,” Fanny said. Silas Hodder had not been around to see her often of late. She missed his good advice.
But before Silas put in an appearance two frightening things happened. One evening the other murderer, Martin, came to visit the freak show. He spent a long time standing staring up at her with a grim look on his coarse face. By the time he moved on she was a nervous wreck. She knew he had come at Snipe’s request to check on her and make sure she was the one whom they had pursued to the cemetery that night.
His visit increased her terror. She was afraid to leave the emporium even on her free mornings. When Moll came over she stayed in her room and talked of her desperate situation.
Moll said, “Silas is trying to find you another post to get you away from here. In the meanwhile, he says you must stay away from the dwarf.”
“No fear of my not doing that,” Fanny exclaimed in disgust. “But will that Snipe leave me alone?”
“He’s a wicked little creature and no mistake about it,” Moll agreed. “I should say you’ll have to depend on Gilbert Tingley.”
The Fat Woman had a poor opinion of Tingley’s prowess as a protector. When Fanny mentioned him in this role, the woman’s many chins wobbled with annoyance. “Tingley spends most of his time boozing in the office. Don’t count on him for anything!”
Fanny was astounded. “Is he a secret drinker?”
“It’s no secret to us who know him well,” the Fat Woman said indignantly. “That’s where most of the show’s profits goes. He spends more than he should on drink and then blames us for not drawing more crowds. I knew that Mechanical Man would bring trouble. But I didn’t think anyone so nasty would come along as that new dwarf!”
Fanny’s terror was becoming acute. She felt she must make some change whether Silas Hodder was able to find her another job or not. Twice she passed the little dwarf in the dark corridor on her floor and each time he had glared at her malevolently but said nothing. At mealtimes he sat at the end of the table a distance from her but she was always aware of his menacing presence.
Several nights later after she’d gone to bed Fanny fancied she heard someone try the latch of her bedroom door. But the bolt held securely though it gave her only a modest feeling of relief. In her unhappy plight it was inevitable that she thought of Brenmoor once again and of George. She began to fantasize that he would appear at the emporium some evening and take her away with him.
The climax came one stormy night in late November. Rain beat down in torrents and the wind howled at the single window of her room. She lay awake because of the storm and all her fears assailed her in the near darkness of the cramped area. She closed her eyes in an effort to make sleep come, trying to ignore the sounds of the angry storm.
Then her whole body tensed as she heard something else. A new and strange sound, as if someone were scraping at the window. She sat up in bed and stared across in time to see a figure dangling from a rope by her window. It was the dwarf, Snipe, who had let himself down from the roof on a rope and was now in the process of opening her window. He had clearly chosen this night so the sounds of the storm would cover his evil actions.
She screamed and leaped out of bed just as he managed to raise the sash. The rain beat in as his small feet sought the window ledge while he clung to the rope with one hand and flourished a knife in the other. The gleam of satisfaction on his monstrous face showed his intent.
Screaming again she looked around wildly for something to protect herself with. The only thing she saw was an ancient broom. She seized this and holding it by the straw end plunged the wooden handle into the dwarf’s body as he stood on the window ledge. He uttered a cry of pain and fear and she quickly rammed him again with the broom. He lost his balance and grabbed wildly for the rope as she prodded him with all her strength yet another time.
Snipe was screaming now. He missed grasping the swaying rope and toppled back to vanish into the dark and rainy night. The rope swayed back and forth before her open window, mute evidence of the drama which had taken place. Without bothering to close the window despite the rain which was now flooding her room she ran to the door and unbolted it, heading to Gilbert Tingley’s office for help!
As the Fat Lady had predicted, Tingley was not only asleep in his swivel chair but muddled by drink. The appearance of a hysterical and drenched Fanny soon brought him around. He went back to her room and saw that her story was not fantasy. Then he closed the window and he and a worker went out to see if Snipe had survived his fall.
Fanny was not surprised to learn that he hadn’t. Snipe had most effectively broken his neck. The event caused a sensation among the freak show people and led to the retiring of the Mechanical Man as an attraction.
A police official who investigated the dwarf’s death confirmed all her fears. The elderly man from Bow Street told her, “We’ve been looking for this little chap for months! He and a dangerous oaf named Martin are wanted for murder.”
“I was there the night it happened,” she said. “I saw them do it.”
“That’s likely why Snipe tried to get into your room and finish you off,” the police official said sagely.
“I’m sure it was. And there’s Martin still at large!”
The constable said, “I know. But I wouldn’t worry about him too much. We feel he’s left London. And if that’s the truth you are relatively safe.”
Fanny gave a small shudder. “I don’t think I shall ever feel safe here again!”
And this was the truth. Memory of what had happened and the fact that Martin knew where to find her, tormented her. She spent all her working hours in the show fearful that any moment the ruffian would appear and try to murder her. She felt so strongly about this she sent Silas Hodder an urgent message by way of Moll.
Silas proved he was still her staunch friend. A few nights later he came to see her just as the show was closing and brought another gentleman with him. This neat man in his worn but well-cut brown frock coat and trousers was much in contrast to the shabby gaunt-featured Silas with his long, unruly gray hair.
Silas introduced him, “This is Mister Barnaby Samuels, of the Samuels Repertory Company. He is about to launch a theatrical tour and by a strange stroke of luck he is in need of a young woman to play principal parts.”
Barnaby Samuels bowed to her. “Silas has praised you highly, Miss Hastings. I would like to hear you recite a little if you will.”
Fanny, taken by surprise but nevertheless eager, said, “I shall do a poem which appeared in the daily paper a while ago, if I may. It is about a little match girl.”
“Go ahead,” the courteous actor-manager said. He had thinning, white hair and a noble face which had been refined by time. Still, he had the air of an actor and she was sure he’d once been a leading man and was now probably a competent character actor and director.
She nervously ran through the poem standing beside her platform on which her fish tail reposed. The Fat Lady and her thin husband had lingered to listen, and gave her loud applause.
“Now there is true talent,” the Fat Lady said emotionally.
“Without a doubt!” her husband echoed.
Silas Hodder turned to the actor-manager in triumph and asked, “Well, what do you think?”
“She will do,” Barnaby Samuels said in his superior way.
“Do!” Silas said with scorn. “She has the makings of a star!”
“Perhaps. It will take much time and training to learn that,” Barnaby Samuels said. Addressing himself to her, he asked, “Can you leave here and join my company on Monday night? We are taking the evening run of the London-Liverpool Railway Train. We shall stop at our first destination, the town of Rigby. I can offer you good parts and my personal help, plus your expenses and a percentage of the company’s profits in which all the cast share equally.”
Fanny didn’t need to think about it. “I can join you,” she said. “I’m certain that will give Mr. Tingley time to find another mermaid.”
As a matter of fact he didn’t even have to look for a replacement. Moll had become so enchanted with the freak show people and their way of life that she decided to abandon begging and offered herself for Fanny’s replacement. In no time at all she was being fitted into the gorgeous, scaly fishtail.
Fanny’s parting from the company was an emotional one. Gilbert Tingley held a special dinner for the occasion on Sunday night. He even went so far as to substitute gin for the usual ale provided. As a result there was much weeping, a great many predictions of a bright future for her, and a touching speech delivered by Tingley himself.
Moll was at the table as a new member of the show and Silas Hodder sat at Fanny’s side as an honored guest. Everyone heard the freak show owner through with polite silence and when he finally raised his glass and said, “A toast! To Fanny Hastings and her good fortune!” everyone lifted his glass and drank. Then they clustered around her, the women embracing her and the men shaking her hand. It was a truly gala event.
Fanny had been instructed to meet the actor-manager and his company at the railway station, where he had promised he would have a ticket for her. She was all excitement at the prospect of really starting her acting career. No longer would she have to sit silent and immobile on a platform wearing a fishtail while people stared and commented. Now she would be playing real characters on a stage!
Fanny had yet to learn that Barnaby Samuels, although basically honest, had been having a run of bad luck. Several times lately his companies had been stranded in remote villages. And on his return to London he had only barely managed to scrape enough cash together to get a company started on the road, but no extra capital to sustain it through bad weeks of business. That was why he was paying his company on a percentage instead of a salary basis and why he had been so quick to hire her, since she was inexperienced and could not ask for a guarantee.
Silas Hodder had no knowledge of the precarious state of the actor-manager’s finances and thought he had provided his protegée with a great opportunity. He was so proud of what he’d done that he insisted on hiring a hackney cab, picking her up at the Emporium of Wonders and taking her to the railway station.
“You have become like a daughter to me,” the strange old man confided as they rode through the busy streets to their destination.
She said, “I’m ever so grateful to you! I shall try to merit your confidence by becoming a great actress.”
“I’m sure that you will,” the happy Silas said.
“But I shall worry about you. You won’t have Moll to look after you. Are you going to go on sleeping in that tomb?”
“I’m thinking of securing more normal quarters,” Silas confided. “You remember the bakery where I take my meals?”
“Yes.”
“They have a small storage room which is not always in use,” he said. “I have reason to believe I may soon be able to sleep there. It is bound to be warm in even the coldest weather.”
“That would be ideal!” Fanny said, brightening. “Now I will not be so troubled.”
The gaunt-faced man closed his thin hand over hers. “You are a dear girl,” he told her.
Fanny had only visited a railway station once before, when she and Moll had been making their tours of the city together. Now Silas Hodder guided her into the busy, noisy place. Travellers were moving about in every direction, asking for information, clutching their pieces of baggage and generally looking confused.
Solemn, whiskered officials in uniform called out loud (and generally incoherent) instructions. Silas guided her along the tile floor of the gas-lit, high-ceilinged main station to the gates. The open iron gates gave access to a number of wooden platforms and trains were coming and going on the rails between the platforms.
The belching, puffing engines squealed along the tracks and came to a halt with a screeching of brakes. Fanny and Silas Hodder proceeded to Platform Four where the attendant had directed them. And there, along with a number of other waiting travellers, she saw the actor-manager, Barnaby Samuels. He was wearing a gray suit with a gray cape and a matching top hat. He motioned for Fanny and Silas to come down the platform to him.
They started down just as they heard the sound of a train approaching behind them. Fanny glanced around to see an engine with a long row of carriages after it coming along that very track. She decided it must be the train they were waiting for. Before she could mention this to Silas walking beside her, she was horrified to see the ugly face and figure of the killer, Martin, loom up ready to shove her in the path of the oncoming train!