I got off the trail and made my way carefully through the woodlot. By the time I reached the place where I had first seen the house and the young offi...er clubbing down the old man, I could see that the barn was burnt down to just one wall and a mass of ashes and cinders. It was still smoking and crackling. The lower part of the back wall stood, probably damp from the nearby swamp, but the rest was gone, just piles of stinking rubbish.A farm wagon sat in front of the house as it had before,. Yet he saw otherwise. He knew more. Eighteen years had not passed for naught. It was not always this way, this battle of wills. He had known Melissa since his father was scene painter for Booth’s Theatre, before pauper papa could afford his own theatrical digs. She’d been Lawrence Barrett’s newest find, and as the lowly stage hand Christopher could only watch as she made love to Lawrence or Edwin Booth in the way that he imagined her voluptuous frame should press against his own. She was a. More

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