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Setting her hat on her head, Lizzie bade them all farewell and made her way toward the boxing tent. Just for an instant, she thought she caught sight of Ma Toomes on the edge of the crowd, but when she looked again, the wizened old woman was nowhere to be seen. She would have to go and see Ma soon, Lizzie thought uneasily. To return that headscarf for one thing, then too she needed to ask if she could keep a hold of the black cloak.

Lizzie noted the attractions as she walked past them. The next tent along from Wonderous Females was a tent which boasted the world’s finest wax work show, ‘Bluebeard’s Chamber’. The painted advertisement hanging on the side of the tent looked so hideous with its array of grisly female bodies that Lizzie gave a violent start when she heard a blood-curdling scream from within. As she clasped a hand to her thudding breast, a gentleman came hurrying outside, carrying a swooning young woman in his arms.

“She needs air!” he cried, depositing his fair burden onto the grass. “Make way, make way! The horrors within are not fit for the eyes of any gently bred female!” As he assiduously fanned the stricken woman with his hat, more and more people came hurrying over with their pennies to queue for the attraction.

“Ohhhh,” moaned the woman. “Do not leave me, Harold! I declare, I shall not sleep a wink tonight!”

“I ’ope it scares me to ’igh ’eaven!” one young woman said turning excitedly to her companion, who stuck his thumbs into his braces.

“Never fear, Polly old girl. If you gets too afear’d, you can cling onto me arm!” he offered obligingly.

“It’s Pauline to you, Gerald ’Awkins, don’t you get so familiar,” she reproached him, though Lizzie noticed she seized hold of him and clung on for dear life as they approached the entrance.

Lizzie passed on by The Farini Family Acrobats. A mournful looking clown in a multi-colored suit stood next to the entrance holding a hat for the entrance fee. When he saw Lizzie, he gave her a terrifying grimace which she could only hope was his approximation of a smile.

Lizzie carried on her way, narrowly avoiding a barrow painted a bright yellow and piled high with little white saucers containing an array of pickled salmon, whelks, cockles, and mussels swimming in a greenish liquid. The smell quite turned her stomach, and Lizzie hastily swerved aside to escape the stench. How anyone could merrily tuck into such things she could not fathom.

The crowd seemed to be getting thicker here, so Lizzie put her head down and marched, not even noting the next few tents and whatever spectacles they might contain. Then suddenly, the crowd thinned again leaving her ample room to maneuver between the strolling visitors.

Lizzie had just sighed with relief at this reprieve when she spied a tall bony man dart in front of her bellowing with rage and raising a whip high above his head to bring down on a dark gray shaggy creature he had cornered against a stand selling spiced nuts.

“Stop that at once!” Lizzie cried out in swift reaction, for she could never stand by and see one of God’s creatures abused. The man didn’t even glance at her as he brought his whip hand smartly down, but the animal was too fast for him. It wheeled about, snapping its huge jaws and catching the whip squarely between its sharp teeth. The rapid movement of its huge body overset the cart and the stallholder howled with rage as a pile of his nuts went cascading over the side of his stand.

“Look out!” someone cried as the creature violently shook its head and flung the bony man from side to side like a rag doll.

“Let go of that whip!” Lizzie shouted. “He’ll have you over in a minute!” She knew a moment’s fear that if the animal got him on the floor, he might tear out the man’s throat, so viciously did the creature regard its attacker.

With a yell of anger, the tall, thin man relinquished his grasp on the handle and backed away, cradling his wrist in his other hand, his features contorted with rage.

“Halt!” Lizzie cried imperiously at the animal, she hardly knew what it was, so outlandish was its appearance. It had crouched down as if to spring at its enemy, but by some miracle, her words seem to stay the beast. Its large ferocious head swung in Lizzie’s direction, and its savage gaze fixed on her intently.

“Is this your dog, madam?” the stallholder huffed, clearly incensed. “I’ll have an action against you for reckless endangerment! Look at me nuts!” he cried indignantly. “All over the floor in a heap! How am I ‘sposed to sell ’em now?”

Lizzie opened her mouth to deny any claim of ownership, but at that instant the stallholder seemed to catch sight of some officials passing in a crowd. “Hie!” he called, summoning him. “Officers! Over ’ere, good sirs! Help!”

Lizzie kept her eyes fixed on the unfortunate creature a moment, before turning back to the tall, thin man. He was wearing a faded red coat and dirty buckskins, and she wondered now if he was one of the entertainers. Glancing over in the direction he had appeared from, she saw a small tent with a faded banner proclaiming ‘Overton’s Menagerie’. “Have you taken hurt?” she asked, for though she did not like the look of him, it was no more than her Christian duty to enquire.

He scowled back at her. “Mind your own business, woman!” he seethed through a mouth of crooked and yellowing teeth. He glanced furtively first at the stallholder and then toward the approaching officials. Lizzie saw his eyes dart from side to side and perceived he was looking to make good his escape.

“Is this your beast?” she asked him.

A look of fury sprung to face. “You – ” he choked, before seeming to get control of himself with some effort. “So that’s your game, is it?” He spat and gestured about him. “These folk will testify the animal responds only to your command, and yet you try to hold me responsible for it!” he blustered. “You will not succeed!”

“Don’t look like no dog what I ever saw,” someone in the crowd murmured, and Lizzie was forced to agree. Turning back toward the animal, she saw to her surprise that it was now slinking toward her.

Lizzie stiffened, but no sooner had the beast reached her side than it dropped to its haunches, its tongue lolling out harmlessly to one side. She eyed it doubtfully. Was it really a dog? In truth, it looked more wolf than dog with its long muzzle and light eyes, but everyone knew there had not been wolves in England for hundreds of years.

“See!” the tall man howled triumphantly. “See how the vicious beast returns to its rightful owner?”

“What seems to be the trouble?” asked a black-suited man with large mutton-chop sideburns. He was flanked on both sides by other men dressed neatly in sensible tweeds. One held a large leather journal and seemed to be scribbling in it industriously with a pencil. “Write this up, Jones,” the first said irritably, pulling out a gold pocket watch. “Well, be quick about it, man,” he said with a contemptuous twist of his lips. “I haven’t got all day to stand dallying with the likes of you. I’ve got miles to patrol, crammed full to the brim with incidents that need writing up! What’s your name? And what seems to be the trouble?”

“It’s Wilkins, sir, of Wilkins Finest Quality Nuts. And this lady’s dog’s been and upset me wares, that’s what’s up!” the stallholder protested hotly. “Just look at the mess it’s made of me spiced nuts!”

The man turned censoriously toward Lizzie. He eyed her dubiously a moment, and Lizzie felt her face flush at the picture she must present. She had jammed her bonnet over her head with scant thought of how tidy she looked after a day patrolling Connie Brown’s tent. “Well, madam,” he demanded. “What reparation do you mean to make for your animal’s mishap?”

Lizzie gazed back at the official a moment and then glanced toward the craven menagerie owner. His eyes flashed with malignant triumph, and Lizzie turned back to the official. “My name is Mrs. Elizabeth Toomes,” she said concisely. “Enter that if you will to your record. And it was this man,” she said coldly, “who is responsible for the entire misfortune. He approached the animal with his whip upraised and moved to attack him without provocation.” She turned back to the crowd. “Will no one here bear me witness?”

“He did have a whip wiv ’im,” someone piped up. “That’s it on the ground, lying there.”