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What are Hobyahs?”
    “I don’t rightly know. But they ain’t things you’d want to give the time of day to, that’s for sure. Oh, well—how about a spot of grub?”
    “I’m agreeable.”
    But before they could sample the contents of the lavish picnic hamper provided by the Green family, the train came to a sudden grinding halt.
    “Hey!” said Dido, putting her head out of the window, “how come we stopped in the middle of nobody’s land?”
    Outside there was nothing to be seen but wild rocky moorland with mountains ahead in the distance.
    Toward the front of the train they could hear shouts and musket shots.
    “Sounds to me like a holdup. Best get out our pistols, Woodlouse.”
    The Green family had provided Dido and Piers with these essentials for travel in the North country. Dido withdrew hers from an outside pocket in her knapsack and cocked it, leaning out of the window again and looking toward the front of the train.
    “Well, there’s a bit of fussation going on up there, but seems like our help won’t be wanted this time—the robbers seem to be making off.”
    Two figures on horseback were visible galloping away into the mist.
    “Fat fellows,” said Dido. “Don’t seem as if they’d need to rob a train—neither of ’em looked as if they’d ever gone hungry … Funny thing, they looked a bit like two coves I used to see about at Saint Jim’s Palace, a couple of those unCivil Servants.”
    After a few jolts and jiggles the train resumed its journey. Presently Piers and Dido heard steps coming along the corridor. A figure halted outside the door of their compartment and tapped on the glass inquiringly. Dido nodded for her to come in.
    “Guess she looks harmless enough, eh, Woodlouse?”
    “I should think so,” Piers agreed. Though
harmless
was not quite the word he would have chosen to describe the woman who entered their carriage.
    She might have been anywhere between thirty and fifty, though she moved with the balance and easy strideof a much younger person. Her hair, done in a knot at the back of her neck, was black and smooth. Her long thin face had regular features and would have been handsome, but there was something a little forbidding about it. She looks, thought Dido, as if she could have a mighty nasty temper if she was crossed. Her eyes were seaweed colored. She wore a red dress.
    She’d stick a spike in you as soon as look at you, thought Dido.
    Her voice, when she spoke, was rather harsh, but evidently her intentions were friendly.
    “Just checking to see that you were not upset by the unscheduled stop,” she said.
    “Are you a rail inspector?” said Dido.
    “Affiliated,” the woman answered absently. “Aldith Ironside—in charge of internal communications and maintenance. Are you traveling far?”
    “To Clatteringshaws,” said Piers. Dido threw him a warning look. No need to pass out information to strangers, that was her motto. Though what harm could this woman do them?
    “That holdup seemed right puny,” Dido said. “Just two o’ them, was there? And they expected to rob a whole train?”
    “A bit of grapeshot soon frightened them off,” said Aldith Ironside. Her eye fell on the open hamper. “Just about to have a bite to eat, were you? It’ll be safe enough now.…”
    “Would you fancy a roll or a chicken leg?” said Piers, unaware of Dido’s scowl.
    “Thank you. That would be most acceptable,” said the woman, and sat down by Piers. “And a glass of wine if you can spare it.”
    “Of course we can—can’t we, Dido?”
    Dido nodded. She was studying the ring on Aldith’s right hand. It was a signet—gold and jet, a thick, heavy ring. She wondered where she had seen it before—or one just like it.
    The woman was talking about robberies on this line.
    “There have been a lot—ever since they raised that Spanish ship off the seabed on Gombeen Sands—they found an emerald in her hold as big as a rook’s egg—seventy-seven carats, worth half