Seth woke with a snort, punching the bottom of the upper berth and growled Harriet's name. When there was no answer he climbed out of the bed and looked up top, cursing at the fact that she was gone. Stomping into the lavatory, he splashed water on his face and glared into the mirror. Red circles framed his bloodshot eyes and his skin had a waxy pallor beneath the dirty grey stubble of beard. He needed a drink. He cursed again and then fell silent, cocking his head. Something. Music? Singing?

He leaned his head close to the wall and strained to hear. Sure enough he heard a woman's voice singing or moaning something; he couldn't be sure. It was the actress's room. He stood back and stared at himself. Might be in some distress, he told himself. Right thing to do would be to check. He washed his face quickly, hand-slapped his thinning hair in place and pulled on his shirt, undone, over his trousers.

Seth opened his door and checked the corridor then slipped down to the next compartment and tested the handle. Locked. He rapped slightly on the door and waited. Nothing. He rapped a little harder, nervously checking the corridor again. Just as he was about to run back to his compartment the door opened. Penny stood naked in the opening, her hair tousled and covering part of her face, her eyes unfocused and her lips puffy.

Seth stifled a gasp. He'd seen naked women before but Penny Hatcher sucked the breath right out of his lungs. His mouth fell open and his eyes slid down the length of her body and back again.

"Wha- wha's up? Where are you- what..."

Seth was frozen on the spot and as he began to gather his senses he heard the bang of the sliding door at the end of the corridor and he darted quickly back to his room.

Ryan strode down the hall, about to bang on the first door when Penny stumbled out of her room. He gaped, unsure as to what he was seeing and then he ran down and caught her before she fell into the windows.

"Miss Hatcher, what happened?" He steered back into her compartment and fumbled her down onto the bed.

"Whose you?" She slurred, putting out one hand for support on the bunk.

Ryan cast about for some cover and pulled a robe around her shoulders, tucking it over her stomach and breasts. "What happened?"

She blinked up at him and suddenly her eyes snapped into focus. She started to point when another voice sounded from the doorway. "What the hell...?"

Ryan turned to face Clifford Williams and he immediately raised his hands. "I just came down to give you folks a message and she was out in the corridor like this." Clifford didn't speak. He tried not to but his eyes kept flitting to Penny. "You, Miss Hatcher here and Mister Dingwall were the only ones not in the dining car." Ryan felt his neck heating and his anger rising. He didn't have to explain anything to this twerp; he was the Marshal.

"Go fetch Soughton, he's a doctor. Maybe he can figure this out."

Clifford hesitated, his eyes still jumping over Penny's body under the robe. "What about you?" It came out a croak.

Ryan curled a lip and leaned forward. "Go. Fetch. Soughton. NOW!" Clifford bolted and Ryan turned back to Penny, pushing her back onto the bunk and drawing a sheet up over her.

"Sit tight, ma'am. Doc'll be here in a minute."

Seth Dingwall sneaked down the corridor after Clifford and into the dining car without being noticed by the crowd listening to Clifford's scandalous account.

"I oughta hurl the little bugger right off the train." Ryan was seething when Cybil recounted Clifford's version of how he found him and the luscious Miss Hatcher.

"So many stories," Cybil squealed delightedly.

"He's a smarmy little liar. There ain't no story, Miss Marsh."

"Will we ever get to Cybil and Ryan, Marshal?"

"Ma'am, when this thing is over I don't want to see any of this mob again." He stuttered to a halt as his eyes met hers and he felt sorry for his attitude. "I didn't- I'm..."

"It's okay, Marshal. I get that a lot when I'm writing about people." Cybil folded her notebook up and slipped it into her handbag. "Next time I won't write while you're around."

"Here comes Soughton." Ryan stood up from the table, thankful for the interruption. "So what happened?"

Peter sighed and slumped down at the table, reaching for the water pitcher. "A miscalculated dose of drugs." He said simply.

"Drugs?" Ryan and Cybil asked in unison.

"Laudanum. She's been injecting herself for some time. She says she needs it for her performances." He poured some water into a glass and drank.

"What the hell for? She's a great actress according to those who've seen her." Ryan put a hand on Cybil's arm as she started to get out her book.

"One of the tragedies of being famous I suppose. You're never really sure."

"So how is she now?"

"Resting. Mortified. She's never misjudged like that before she said. Probably won't come out of her room again until we get to Judgement."

"She gonna be okay?"

"Who knows, I left her stuff with her—"

"But—!"

"Withdrawal would be worse than what you saw today, Marshal. At least she knows enough to keep it under control now." Peter took another drink and snorted softly. "I coulda used some of that for my back." Ryan frowned. "Just kidding, Marshal."

It hadn't been apparent until Stanley came through the car lighting the oil lamps. Darkness had descended again only this time it wasn't night. Outside the sky roiled angrily and the lightening suddenly cracked with ear-splitting noise.

"Back to your compartments," Ryan ordered. "And stay put, away from the windows."

With little fuss those still loitering all filed quickly out of the car, throwing nervous glances out of the windows as they went. Ryan headed for the prison car and checked on his guards, advising them of the circumstances then stepped outside onto the catwalk to see if he could risk going up to the engine. The wind ripped at his hat and he jumped back inside, tossing it onto the counter.

"I'm gonna go up and see Carl," he said to Deke. "Tell Stanley to stay by the door here and I'll holler back whatever Carl can tell me." He stepped outside again and this time was pelted by a stinging rain. He edged along the walk, fingers locked on the rusty iron rail, feet sliding cautiously on the grating of the walk.

A sudden gust made him turn his head and when he opened his eyes his heart nearly stopped; the train was in the middle of one of the bridges and Ryan was hanging over a seemingly bottomless gorge. He pushed on, wondering what the hell he was doing and at the end of the catwalk he felt a hand grasp at his coat sleeve and help heave him up into the cab.

"You outta your mind, son?" Carl shook his head like a shaggy buffalo.

"Just missed your company, Carl." Ryan grabbed hold of a brace bar and nodded his thanks to Amos who grinned and turned back to his furnace. "How's it goin?"

"Well you were just out there, son, didn't you notice?"

"I noticed we were in the middle of a bridge."

Carl nodded. "Very good. What ain't very good is that it's the first bridge and we're startin' to get hammered."

Just as he spoke the engine swayed dangerously and the men all grabbed something to steady themselves. Ryan could hear the creaking of the old wooden timbers in the bridge's structure.

"About another twenty feet and the engine'll be back on solid ground... can only hope for the rest of the train."

Ryan gaped at him. "You're kiddin' right, Carl?" The bridge swayed and groaned again.

"Sound like it?"

"Jesus!"

"Good person to talk to right about now."

Ryan looked back down the side of the train and saw Stanley's face braving the wind and decided that he'd better just leave Carl to his business and make sure he had his own responsibilities under control.