Written In Stone

for that. Smoothing his cape, Gavin went down the hall, taking large strides, listening intently as he went. Then he heard it, the little girl's sniffling and the judge's booming voice shouting at the children.
    He heard the judge say, "You will both take baths and put on the clothing I have provided for you. Understand? You will be quiet and do as instructed, when instructed. Is that clear?"
    Gavin knew the children were nodding in agreement, too afraid to speak, and he knew exactly what the judge planned to do. Grimacing, he fought for the self-control necessary not to burst into the room to rescue the children. As long as the children were bathing and dressing, they were in no immediate danger, giving Gavin time to execute another plan. Walking quickly down the hall to the utility closet, he waited.
    Moments later, he heard men's voices as they came huffing up the stairwell and down the hall. Two more men he recognized. Charles Hufferman, a leading businessman in the community, and Randolf Geddington, a wealthy playboy who spent most of his time and money running all over England and France in pursuit of one heiress or another. Gavin had no idea their endeavors ran along such vile lines. He shook his head; there really was no way to know the true heart of man.
    Charles knocked on the door, and the judge slipped into the hallway to meet with the men. "You're early."
    "No, you're late," Randolf countered with a grin. "The others are waiting. Did you get the goods?"
    "Of course, I did! They're preparing as we speak. Give me ten minutes and I'll bring them down."
    "Ten minutes then. We'll keep the others entertained," Charles replied with a nod. Then he and Randolf headed back down the hall, and the judge disappeared behind the closed door.
    Gavin waited five minutes, then headed down the hall to the stairwell. He slipped quietly down, following the scent of the two men who preceded him. The scent led him down another hallway, another set of stairs, and finally to a single door. From there, he could hear the men inside, laughing and talking, and he could smell the scent of cigar smoke, cognac, and wine. He also smelled the scent of hors d'oeuvres and canapés with goose pâté. He heard someone announce that the bidding would begin in a few moments, followed by a shuffling of feet, scuffing of chairs on flooring, and good-natured ribbing and joking. Gavin felt sick to his stomach.
    The door before him seemed to be the only entrance, but there must be a fire door somewhere; he just had to find it. Quickly ducking into the stairwell as he heard footfalls in the hallway, he saw the judge leading the two children. They dragged their feet, scared to death, not knowing what was about to happen to them. Gavin could see their eyes, wide with fear, their lips quivering, and he could hear the rapid thumping of their hearts in their chests. Their blood rushed loudly through their veins. The judge pulled them hard and spoke harshly to them, threatening their very lives. Gavin slipped away, unnoticed, to find the fire entrance.
    Once he found the fire entrance, he easily slipped into the empty back room currently serving as a storage area, and stealthily moved along the wall to get a look into the larger room. Candelabra burned along with wall sconces. Oil lamps sat on tables around the room, illuminating everything. After placing the two children on a small stage at the front of the room, the judge stood off to one side, instructing the boy and girl to walk back and forth and twirl so the bidders could see them from all sides. Both were dressed in clean undergarments, but they were crying and shaking with fear.
    "Now, you've seen the goods," the judge announced, stepping behind the podium and picking up a gavel. "We'll start the bidding on the girl at one hundred pounds."
    "One hundred," a voice near the front called out.
    "One-fifty," another voice countered.
    "I have one-fifty," the judge said. "Do I hear two hundred for this lovely girl? A virgin, no less!"
    "Two hundred," someone in the rear shouted.
    "Two twenty-five."
    "Two fifty."
    "Three hundred."
    "Three hundred, do I hear more?" The judge looked over the crowd. No one else spoke. "Three hundred going once, going twice…"
    "Three-fifty," someone said.
    "One thousand pounds," a man in the back bellowed, and everyone in the room twisted around to see the high roller.
    Girls rarely went for that much, and the judge didn't wait. "One thousand is the bid. Going once, going