Mrs Cuthbert Saves the Day.

That should be the headline on all of the news sheets round town, however, as usual, our efforts will probably disappear into the confusion and chaos of the day.

It is not even midnight of the day after we saved ourselves from Baron Blackhall, Lady Miranda, the Widows, and Master Tandu and we (and the entire City of London) have been embroiled in another near-disaster.

For once I do not feel like detailing all of the events of the day. I have written a report to Mr Weasley at the office of the Lord High Warlock. I wrote out a copy for Mrs Godwin and a copy for my own records as well. Now that my hand is tired from writing it occurs to me that I could have asked Sir Cosmo for the use of his mechanized scriber.

I do have some rather unsettled feelings as a result of our encounter with the ‘song-and-dance’ demon. On one hand I am relieved that the majority of London’s citizens were spared either bursting into flame or seeing the City raised by fire. However, the demon’s power was such that many of us were compelled to sing about things of a very personal nature, sharing more that is comfortable of our inmost thoughts and feelings.

I was spared, to some extent, in that things that I was compelled to sing about were those things my friends in the League were already aware of or were such that I was not embarrassed to share them.

I find myself hesitating to put this down in words, even in my own cyphered journal. Perhaps I do not wish to think the thoughts at all. Now I understand, with much greater sympathy, the plight Miss Chigwidgeon found herself in prior to revealing her true feelings to Sir Cosmo. And yet, she at least had something more substantial to make her decision on than demon-inspired warbling.

When we stumbled across Salmalin singing of his unrequited love for Namaste, I wanted to rush in and comfort him, which, given our relative station and opposite gender would have been quite inappropriate.

I am completely confused.

I have felt a strong connection to him ever since we first met him, when he was accidentally captured by Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Chigwidgeon, Miss Sinclair and I. Perhaps it is because his presence reminds me of my time in India. But I think it is rather because he has demonstrated an integrity of spirit that inspires me. Of course, that same integrity and self-reliance are also quite maddening at times.

Before all the singing started this morning he came to Miss Chigwidgeon and I and revised his assessment of his injuries. He had been pounded black and blue in his battle with Master Tandu’s thuggees. I do wish the song-and-dance demon had given us a day to rest– I noticed that Salmalin was moving rather stiffly at times today. I know that he hates to show any form of weakness, so he must have been in great pain. Fortunately the demon did not require any strenuous dancing from him.

So what do I say about Salmalin? I must confess, to myself at least, that my feelings are much more entangled with his well being than should be the case. I also know that his only feelings are for Miss Chigwidgeon...

In addition to my confused feelings about Salmalin, Inspector MacGregor was swept up in a song about ‘The Girl for Me’ while Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Chigwidgeon, Miss Sinclair and myself were discussing what course of action to take next. For a moment it looked as though he was singing right to me with an intensity that was quite startling. Then, this evening, while we were all under the demon’s sway (thank goodness Mrs Cuthbert has kept up on her Latin!) Inspector MacGregor and I danced together on stage. I was holding my sword, hoping the choreography would allow me to take a swing at the demon, who, by that time was talking of marrying Wooster who she had spirited away earlier in the day. Simon was quite a good dancer, I do not know if it was his own ability or something inspired by the demon. I doubt I will get an opportunity to find out in a more appropriate setting.

The Inspector has been astonishingly good to me ever since our first, very strange, meeting. He seemed to see nothing odd in my visions and spells– he treats them as any other kind of evidence (though, of course, in most cases he must find more tangible evidence in order to have a case that would stand up in courts of law). Simon is respectful and thoughtful, two things that William never was (though I didn’t realize it until too late, much to my later regret).

My mother would be horrified to hear me thinking of such things but it seems best to me to write it down, for I can tell no one.

For what do I want with a man in my life? Admittedly, I need Sir Cosmo and Our Employer’s patronage to act as freely as I do, but living in his household comes with none of the requirements and duties of a wife.

I do occasionally wake in the middle of the night with the fear that Miss Chigwidgeon will change her mind about living in the midst of all this madness and send us all on our way when she becomes Lady Namaste. I have my cottage in the country and I daresay I could impose upon Mrs Cuthbert to stay with her should I wish to stay in the city. Right now I have my ostensible role as Miss Chigwidgeon’s chaperone that allows my extended say with the household. I do not know why I borrow trouble, the wedding is months away.

I shall turn thirty this year. I almost wish I had been widowed rather than divorced. (Keeping in mind the fate of Mr Burnand, I do not wish it in truth!) It is a much more respectable state than that of a divorcee and there seems to be less pressure to remarry. Perhaps if you are widowed it is assumed that you made a good marriage the first time while a divorced woman is assumed to have made a grievous error (even if it was only in her choice of husbands!)

Husbands. That is the problem. Do I need one? I don’t think so. Would I want one? Only if I could be assured that he would not try to rule me. If we could be partners as Sir Cosmo and Miss Namaste seem destined to be, then, perhaps I could consent to bind my life to that of another. Though the husband of a witch would seem to have a hard path to follow if the fate of my Great-Uncle is any guide. Would I wish that on a man I loved?

Mulling over my feelings only make the situation more murksome. If I were to share any of these thoughts aloud it would muddle things even more– especially as I do not know what I really want. Words spoken by real people cannot be undone as easily as the curse of the song-and-dance demon. At this point the only person I harm by my silence is myself.

Perhaps, after we have dealt with the vampires tomorrow morning, I will see about arranging a visit to my Great-Aunt’s cottage in West Darlson. If things remain quiet in London for a week I will risk a trip out of town. I should also arrange to visit Anne soon, her confinement is fast approaching. I wonder if Miss Chigwidgeon would be willing to travel with me. It would give her some time away from planning for the engagement dinner and wedding– though I do not know if she would voluntarily separate from Sir Cosmo.

I am dreadfully afraid that I am worse off that I thought, I have just spent the past quarter hour staring out my darkened window and thinking of ways to spend time with Mr Salmalin I am certain that thought of Inspector MacGregor are not far behind! My pen nib is quite dry and I am quite vexed. Every thought is suspect. I definitely need time away from this house and people I love not wisely but too well!

6 June 1870, Monday

Dear Mr Weasley,

You said I should keep you apprised should I encounter any more such problems as the one you recently assisted my colleages and I with. I feel I should summarize the events of today, 6 June 1870 for your records. I am sending a similar report to Mrs Godwin of the Order of St. Jerome.

We slept late after the events of Sunday night, but the entire household (and it seems, everyone in London) awoke to the same dream this morning. Even the redoubtable Miss Sinclair dreamt that a red-skinned demon pushed her out onto a stage saying ‘you’re on.’ Now anyone who has ever had to speak in front of a group or taken part in an amateur concert has felt a twinge of stage fright, but for all of us to have the same dream was passing strange.

We then suffered though three bouts of spontaneous singing. Master Edward going so far as to swing from the lightening rod on the roof of Sir Cosmo’s house. Mr Graham and Mr Salmalin were singing and sharing things of an unusually personal nature in the laboratory, just as that ended and Mrs Cuthbert and I tried to make a break for the stairs before we should break out in song again, Sir Cosmo, Mr Salmalin, Miss Sinclair, and I all of felt compelled to sing about Responsibility. Regardless of how hard we tried, we were unable to resist the compulsion.

At last the song was over and Miss Chigwidgeon and I could attempt to aid Mrs Cuthbert in tracking down the force that was responsible for this spell or geas. We were unsuccessful in scrying. In the meantime I received word from Inspector MacGregor that the singing and dancing was happening all over London (including the police station where he works) and that he was involved in a murder but would stop by later to consult with us.

Miss Wilhelmina stopped in to check on us just as I was attempting to summon the spirit of my Great-Aunt to see what information she might have. She has been of great help in the past, and seems surprisingly well connected for a dead person. Needless to say we broke into song again. This time even spirits that possessed us were singing. We were given some general guidance, as well as confirmation that this was a city-wide phenomenon.

I trust your own sources have already conveyed some of this information, however, I feel that I must stress that, while the spirits told us of a way to defeat this specific curse, they also said that a door had been opened between this world and another, “a gate has been opened, locks have been broken, powers of darkness hold earth in their sway,” was how the spirits put it. There is more work to be done than has been accomplished this night.

Once released from our song, we went downstairs. Fong Chigwidgeon had joined us and so was the first to encounter Lieutenant Locksley, who had come to bid farewell before his ship departed for India. At Mrs Cuthbert’s request, I made a curse mirror for the Lieutenant out of an old watch she had. I hope that was allowed. I realise that I do not know what laws might apply to my use of magic. Perhaps you, or one of your assistants, could instruct me in its lawful use.

After the Lieutenant took his leave, we met with Inspector MacGregor. He reported the details of the murder that he had been assigned. By his description, it seemed that the victim was a cousin of Miss Sinclair’s, a Mr Matthew Sinclair. He was also able to confirm that the singing and dancing seemed to be happening all over London and that at least one person burst into flame while caught in the spell. There was nothing Inspector MacGregor could do for the man. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Mr Cuthbert, Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Sinclair, Edward, and I all went with Inspector MacGregor to investigate the scene of the crime and view the body of the deceased.

Miss Chigwidgeon and Mr Chigwidgeon, escorted by Miss Bertilde, took one of the carriages to return Mr Chigwidgeon to his flat. Mrs Cuthbert and I noted, before Mr Chigwidgeon took his leave, that he wore a fine silver chain around his neck. The chain way fey-silver and told me that he was under the protection of Mitzi, the half-fey proprietor(ess) of the nightclub where Mr Chigwidgeon works.

I sent a note off to Dr Wilson, at the Rocket Works, to suggest that a day where people were spontaneously bursting into flame might not be a good day to be working with explosives. I also sent off notes to your office, and that of the Order of St. Jerome, with a summary of our findings so far.

Upon our return we pooled our information:

Miss Mitzi met Miss Chigwidgeon’s party at Mr Chigwidgeon’s flat, insisted upon giving Mr Chigwidgeon two weeks pay and stopped just short of ordering Mr Chigwidgeon out of London for the next two weeks. She claims to have been around the last time this particular curse was invoked (Year of our Lord 1666) and while she did not know a lot of details about the particular demon involved, she did know that its curse involved setting as much of London ablaze as possible at its conculsion.

Our party had discovered, through mystical means and by investigating Mr Matthew Sinclair’s flat, that his death was caused by the Vampire Count Severin and his associates (including the dried up husk that is Peter Sinclair). My only comfort was that Count Severin had obviously been courting the attention Mr Matthew Sinclair for some time... I am still concerned that I may have hastened his death. Severin had sealed the wounds made by the vampires and had hung Mr Matthew Sinclair’s body from the wire that normally supports some of the theater’s signs.

We had also spoken with both Mr Francis Burnand and Mr. Casimir Bialystok, the director and stage manager respectively, about the production, possible suspects in the murder of Matthew Sinclair. Neither of them seemed to recognize the sketches Miss Sinclair and I did of the song-and-dance demon. We found Mr Rupert Price at his tea near the Orpheum theater, we decided to speak to him since he had some training in the mystic arts and Mr Ramsey’s note to me (forwarded to the theater at my request) indicated that a production that Mr Burnand had written the book for was on stage at the Orpheum and, most importantly, Mr Burnand had had access to some mystical files to write his adaptation of Mrs Shelly’s book for the musical play now in production. Mr Pryce had had no particular forebodings about the show that he was in. However his ‘stage fright’ dream did differ slightly from ours, in that he was fairly sure that a dancer (though he could not tell if the figure was male or female) preceede him on stage. We warned Mr Pryce of about the demon and then returned home and met with the others of the league.

While we were discussing whether to pursue the vampires while it was still daylight or design further inquiries to help us stop the demon and the flambè of London, notes arrive from Mr Ramsey and Mrs Godwin warning us that Count Severin was to be considered extremely dangerous. We decided to wait until tomorrow morning to tackle the vampires.

Sir Cosmo, Miss Chigwidgeon, Lieutenant Wooster, Mr Salmalin, and I went in search of Miss Mitzi to see if he could remember anything further from his previous encounter with the demon.

Edward seized upon Mr Pryce’s dream of the dancer to suggest that Mr Cuthbert search for a dancer with the token that would mark him or her for sacrifice. Miss Bertild accompanied them.
Mrs Cuthbert, Dr Wilson, and Mr. O'Flaherty took George as their driver. They intended to search the Orpheum for Mr Burnand and keep him under surveillance.

We found Miss Mitzi not far from her theater. She said she knew we looking for her. She had consulted with Mrs. Godwin and conveyed that the Order of St. Jerome had records of this demon being called down upon cities in the past, including Rome. The demon's price was not just a sacrifice, but a mate. I am unclear whether the demon requires both a sacrifice and a mate or just a mate (sacrifice enough for the person selected!) The demon gives the person who makes the bargain a token, which Mitzi said was a necklace with an ancient bronze coin as a pendant. Her description matched Mrs Cuthbert’s vision of the item. As she was talking we were interrupted by a female flamenco dancer and a guitar player who appeared out of nowhere. I had seen them earlier in the day at the Royal Illustration Gallery and knew they were phantasms of some sort.

Mitzi attacked them, as did I. The others joined in and all was chaos for the next few minutes. Suddenly their were four demons. Miss Chigwidgeon and Sir Cosmo executed an excellent high-low attack on one of the demons. I managed to get my sword into another of the beasts. The female dancer flashed her skirts at Lieutenant Wooster and I heard him say something about marriage just as the she-demon exploded into colored confetti. When the confetti had settled, Wooster had vanished.

After yet another song (this one about crossroads), we found ourselves outside the Royal Illustration Gallery. We used our tickets and entered the theater (Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Sinclair, Mr. O'Flaherty and Dr Wilson went round the back and came in via the stage entrance). Henri and his friends were there. I noticed that he had come prepared with flowers, champagne, and rotten vegetables.

There were flamenco dancers everywhere. We stormed the stage before the performance began and attempted to usurp it. Miss Chigwidgeon and Mrs Cuthbert found the token. It had been given to an actress. They took it off her and Mrs Cuthbert worked diligently to reverse the curse. My attempt to dispel the demon fizzled and I was taken by its spell. We did manage to disrupt much of its song and Henri scored a direct hit with a rotten cabbage, greatly irritating the demon.

At last, Mrs Cuthbert was able to reverse the curse. Mr. O'Flaherty had gotten hold of Mr Burnand. He had confessed that he called the demon and he knew that the actress he gave the amulet to would be sacrificed. The demon took hold of the amulet, shook Mr Burnand until the useless man fainted, and then, saying something about Burnand never working again, disappeared. Mr Burnand was left behind, but a slice of his soul is missing.

We met up with Mr Chigwidgeon and Mr Graham at the theater. Mr Graham’s visions had led him to this theater and Mr Chigwidgeon had followed Mr Graham. Now we have all returned home safely.

Sincerely,
Victoria H. Whitnell (Miss)

Proceed to A suddenly full week

Return to Miss Whitnell's Diary Index

Return to Main Menu

Contents this page copyright 2001 by Kristin Fontaine. All Rights Reserved.