“Do you know the area?” I asked.

“Not well, but enough to know that it is most unsavory and I should much prefer to avoid it than visit it. Still, it must be done, I suppose.”

We therefore headed out to Holborn and were not two blocks from the location where Mrs. Pepper had mentioned that I might find Teaser when we saw dark shadows step forth from an alley before us. I tensed at once and put a hand on my hanger. Elias took a step backward, intending to use me as a shield. There were some six or seven men in front of us, and I should have been quite uneasy about the odds, except that I perceived at once they held themselves without the confidence of men prone to violence. Their stance appeared to me uneasy and unpracticed, almost as though they were afraid we should hurt them.

“What have we here?” one of the men shouted.

“It appears we have a pair of sodomites,” another answered. “Fear not, sinners, for a night in the compter shall have a most beneficent effect on you, and perhaps, with sufficient time to seek the Lord’s forgiveness, you may yet save your soul.”

I doubted the soul-saving qualities of the compter, for a sodomite sent to spend the night in that fetid prison could well expect endless hours of abuse. In such places, the time-honored tradition required that the most hardened criminals force the sodomites to consume large quantities of human waste.

“Hold there,” I said. “You’ve no business with me nor I with you. Get ye gone.”

“I’ll not get gone,” one of them cried, the one who had called us sodomites, I believed. “For I am the Lord’s servant, sir, and he worketh by my hand.” His voice wavered like a street-corner preacher.

“I very much doubt it,” I answered, for I knew at once that these were men of the Society for the Reformation of Manners or, at the very least, one of the many organizations in its vein that had sprung up in recent years. These men prowled the streets at night, looking for anyone who might be involved in activities that were in violation of both the laws of God and the kingdom, though not those involved in crimes of violence, since these religious men were hardly equal to such prey. For the very worst of reasons, the constables and the magistrates had allowed these men to act as their proxies, so a group of religiously inflamed and determined citizens could grab a man for no greater crime than drunkenness or seeking a whore’s company and arrange to have him locked away for a hellish night. I mentioned that sodomites fared badly in the compter, but it was only the most determined sort of brute who escaped without a severe beating and humiliation.

“’Tis such a thing as a curfew in this town,” the Reformation man said to me.

“I have heard that,” I answered, “but I’ve never met a soul who cared a jot for it but zealots like yourself. My friend and I did no more than walk down the street, and I shan’t be troubled for it.”

“We saw you do nothing but walk down the street, but I know well that you intend to engage in the most bestial acts, crimes that are an abomination to God and nature.”

“I’ll have none of it,” I said, and drew my hanger.

The men gasped, as though they had never conceived that a man going about on his own business would resist these reprehensible accusations.

“I am no sodomite and on no criminal activity,” I announced, “but I am a man trained in the fighting arts, so I ask which of you will give me the lie?”

I heard the sound of their breathing, but no more response than that.

“I thought as much. Now be off,” I called, and waved my blade about ceremoniously. It did the trick, for the religious ruffians scattered, and Elias and I continued along our path for another block or so until we reached the location Mrs. Pepper had bespoken.

Elias looked around. “Oh, rabbit it!” he said.

“What is it?”

“I begin to perceive why the Reformation men construed our business so falsely. Unless I miss my guess, this Mr. Teaser is to be found at Mother Clap’s home.”

“Mother Clap?” I cried. “Can that be the name of a real bawd? It sounds more improbable than a friend named Teaser.”

“I believe them to be part of the same phenomenon, for I have it on very good authority that Mother Clap’s is the most celebrated molly house in the metropolis.”

I had no desire to enter a molly house and came close to voicing my objection. But even as I nearly spoke the words, I though it very odd that a man such as myself, who has been forced to face all manner of danger, should be so squeamish in the face of behaviors that offered no direct harm. I might dislike how some men chose to conduct themselves-just as I might dislike cowards-but their existence did not threaten mine.

I glanced at Elias. “You go knock upon the door,” I said. “You have a better chance of earning their trust.”

I thought he should rage at me for my jest, but he only laughed. “At last I have found something to fill Benjamin Weaver with fear,” he said, “and perhaps some way to earn back your goodwill.”

Elias knocked hard on the door, and in an instant his efforts were answered. The door opened to reveal a creature in a serving girl’s attire, but this was no girl at all. Here was a man, and no small one either, dressed as a girl and wearing a wig, with a prim little bonnet atop. This should have been absurd enough, but the fellow’s face was dark with emerging beard, and though he curtsied and conducted himself with all seriousness, the effect was both comic and grotesque.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” the servant asked in a voice that was softened but not emasculated. It was clear to me that this man did not wish to convince anyone he was a woman. No, for all the world he wanted to appear as a man dressed as a woman, and it was a damnably curious and uneasy thing.

Elias cleared his throat. “Yes, we seek a man who uses the name Teaser.”

“What’s your business with him, then?” the man asked, his voice losing some of its softness. I also observed that his accent was of the lower sort, a kind of Hockley in the Hole accent if I placed it right, and that surprised me. I had always believed sodomy to be the crime of the decadently wealthy, but here was a man of the lower orders. I wondered if he was indeed sodomitically inclined or if this was merely a position he took out of necessity. And then a darker thought crossed my mind, that this low fellow was held against his will. I told myself I would remain vigilant against signs of such horrors.

I stepped forward. “Our business with him is our own. Pray inform him he has visitors, and we shall answer for the rest.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, sir. Perhaps you would like to leave your card, and Mr. Teaser-if there is such a person-will call upon you if he so desires.”

I observed that the servant had not denied the presence of the man at first, but now he brought into question his very existence. “He shall not know who we are, but the business is of the greatest urgency. I mean no harm to him or your-your associates, but I must speak with him at once.” I handed the servant my card.

“This ain’t your home, and you don’t command here. I’ll leave your card as you wish or no, but be off with you.”

Were he a mere serving man I should have, at this point in our impasse, pushed past him. The truth was I had no desire to touch a being of his stamp, so I continued to depend upon words. “I’ll not be off. You may let us in of your own volition, or you may attempt to stop us. The choice is yours, sir.”

“Call me madam, if you please,” he said.

“I care not what you call yourself, but stand aside.”

At that moment another figure appeared at the door, this one a woman in body as well as in spirit. She was a plump woman of some advanced years, though with large blue eyes that radiated an indulgent kindness. Her clothes were simple yet well-made, and she looked nothing so much as a respectable and generous matron. “Be off with ye. I’ll brook no more church palaver from hypocrites such as you. Go tell it to the devil. You’ve more in common with him than you have with us.”