A car was waiting for Abigail as she got off the train, clutching her worn carpetbag. She hadn’t been expecting one, but the only other person who got off was an old farm hand, a cloth bundle over one shoulder, who’d simply started down the dirt road from the stop without a glance back so she guessed the elegant black roadster was intended for her. To the young woman’s surprise, as she drew near, the driver’s door opened and a figure got out. They were dressed in a black uniform, a chauffeur’s cap perched atop of mop of light brown hair, but the person in said uniform was undoubtedly a young lady. Her round, freckled face beamed a smile as she saw Abigail approach and stuck out a hand in greeting.

“Hello there! You must be the new maid! I’m Sandy, the driver. She said in an excited rapid fire. After shaking hands, Sandy opened the passenger’s door so Abigail to clamber in with her bag, then ran around to the front to crank start the motor. After a second, the auto started up and soon they were puttering up the old country path.

In the back of the auto, Abigail looked out the window, curious, as they passed fields and meadows and grove of pleasant trees. A far cry from London where had, till recently, been employed. As they drove, Sandy chatted amiably enough, asking Abigail some questions about where she’d come from and her last position.

“Of course, you’ll have hear Lord Eddington is barmy, right?” Sandy stated, out of the blue.

“Huh?” Abigail was taken by surprise, partly by the odd statement, partly because she’d been hearing a curious knocking sound from the back of the car and was trying to listen for it. “I beg your pardon, did you say Lord Eddington is...”

“Barmy!” Sandy repeated, cheerfully. “His lordship’s taken a slight dose of madness, as you might say, poor chap, running around like a little devil. Course, we all take it in stride, best we can and all the neighbors seem to think its roaring good fun...”

“Ah...” Abigail nodded. It was the way of the world, she’d seen. If someone painted themselves blue or ran through the streets chasing the pixies, or claimed they were Julius Caesar or the like, people called it madness and put them in straightjackets. But add a Lordship and a pile of money into the mix, suddenly they called them “eccentric” and generally let them go about as they pleased.

She was just about to inquire the nature of his Lordship’s madness, when the curious knocking sound returned, louder and with more forcefulness then before, enough to make it to the front of the auto, where Sandy was driving. “What was that?” She asked, turning to look back over her shoulder.

“I don’t know...” Abigail replied, confused. “There’s been this odd knocking from the back of the car. You don’t suppose there’s something wrong with it?”

She was surprised when Sandy’s eyes got wide with alarm and the auto was hurriedly pulled to a stop on the side of the road. “Oh dear oh dear oh dear...” Sandy muttered to herself, jumping out and running to the back of the car.

Curious, Abigail got out as well and walked around back. She got there just was Sandy had gotten the boot of the car open and was in the process of helping a tied up and very annoyed young woman out of it. Abigail gaped. This new woman was about the same age as the other two, dark haired and dressed in a maid’s uniform. Her hands were twisted behind her back and tied at the wrists with cord while below her legs had likewise been lashed together at the ankles. A thick tea towel was tied across the bottom of her face, doing an excellent job of muffling her enthusiastic complaints.

“Dammit Sandy!” She sputtered when the gag was pulled down. “You know you’re suppose ta check ta trunk before driving anywheh!!!”

“I’m sorry...I was running late to meet the train and it slipped my mind...” The driver replied sheepishly. “Umm...Abigail!” She spoke up, noticing her passenger had gotten out and was watching with a look of visible confusion. “This is Polly, another one of the maids. Polly, this is Abigail, the new girl from London.”

“Please ta meet’cha!” Polly said. “I’d shake ya hand, only some daft ninny’s nah untied ‘em yet!” With another sheepish apology, Sandy got to work unknotting the cords tying the other girl’s hands and feet.

“Err...” Abigail murmured, uncertainly. “Just what is going on here?” She asked.

The other two looked at each other, silent, for a long second before Sandy finally spoke up. “Like I was telling you, his Lordship’s gone a little bit mad. Watched too many nickelodeons and theater melodramas and now he’s convinced he’s a fiendish villain, like what you see up on the silver screen.”

“Aye.” Polly chimed in. “And ‘is favorite bit o’ villainy is kidnapping a wee damsel in distress.”

“I say!” Abigail exclaimed in shock. “And I suppose he takes advantage of the poor girl in his clutches?”

“oh no!” Polly hurried to assure her. “E’s a villain, for sure, but ‘e always says e’s a Gentleman Villain and e’s not one to ‘ave his way wit a bonny lass for e’s made her marry ‘im.”

Seeing the look on Abigail’s face, Sandy stepped in. “Don’t worry, the local Parson’s in on it and he makes sure things get interrupted before things get too far.”

“And mostly, ‘e juss ties us up and leaves us ta struggle in “peril” as e calls it.” Polly resumed, indicating the boot of the car. “And when e’s got his back turned, someone nips in and unties ya in a flash...usually.” She glared over at Sandy.

“And I suppose he’s going to abduct and tie me up as well?” Abigail asked, a little nervous.

“Yeah, but it’s nah so bad, dearie. You just play along, struggle a bit, scream fur help while he ties your hands and feet, then you have a wee lie down or a sit and wait till ya rescued.”

“And the pay’s pretty good too.” Sandy chipped in.

Abigail thought for a long second, mulling over this whole absurd situation, comparing it to her job prospects back in London. She sighed. “I suppose so.” Silently, she thought to herself, “Surely they’re exaggerating...”

Not ten minutes after Sandy pulled the roadster through the ancient wrought iron gates of Lord Eddington’s country manor, Abigail was presented with the sight of a middle-aged, slightly pudgy man dressed in a black opera cloak and top hat, a monocle over one watery eye and a big black mustache, the edges curled up into rings, staggering across the grounds, a woman in a white chef’s garb half flung over one shoulder. He was clearly struggling under his burden and had she put up any sort of struggle, she’d have no doubt been off him in a flash, but if anything she seemed to be enjoying things, giving the odd kick or squirm but mostly calling out, in a playful tone of voice “Help! Oh won’t someone save me from this villain?”

“There’s no saving you, my dearie!” The man cackled. “I’ve a fiendish trap in store for you...” He staggered on around the lawn with his cooperating captive, disappearing from view. A few seconds later, two more women strode around the other side of the house. One was a girl in a maid’s uniform, the other an older woman in a plain, but severely cut black dress. Seeing Abigail, coming out of the motor garage alongside Sandy and Polly, she turned to them.

“Did you see...” She started to ask before Sandy spoke up.

“His Lordship just went around the corner...” Sandy replied. “With Beckie over his shoulder.”

The woman sighed and turned to her assistant. “He’s probably taking her to the “railway...”

“His Lordship had a section of track installed in the south garden...” Sandy helpfully told Abigail. “No train, thank god, but that hasn’t dampened his enthusiasm for tying damsels to it.”

“When his Lordship’s had his fun, hurry down and untie her.” The older woman ordered, “I don’t know how his Lordship expects to eat dinner on time if he keeps stealing the cook while she’s making it. And there’s Polly!” She added, as her assistant hurried off. “I’ve been looking all over. Where did he stick you this time?”

“Ee stuffed me in tha boot Miss Haversham.” Polly replied. “And someone forgah to check the boot before she drove off...” Red-faced, Sandy gave another round of apologies.

As did Miss Haversham, when she finally got to Abigail. “Forgive the lack of introductions, but as you can see, it’s a bit of a madhouse today. I knew there’s by trouble when the post arrived with those new films for his Lordship. I see you’ve been told about his madness, all I can say is, play along and humor him as best you can and try to get your work done when you’ve got the chance. I don’t know how he expects me to keep this house running with half the staff tied up at any given time. Polly, can you show Abigail the house and her duties?”

“Aye ma’am. It’d be nah trouble...”

“Then I leave her in your capable hands...” Saying that, Miss Haversham spun on her heels and hurried after her employer.

“Come on then, Abbie!” Polly said cheerfully. “I’ll show you tha house.” She started off in the direction of the servants entrance.

“What am I getting myself into...” Abigail thought to herself, hurrying after...