I have uncorked a brimming cask of sweet justice, and I’ve sent The Eel to drown in it.

My challenges continue, and now it is Good Mr. Ben Stokes who doubts my ability to accomplish anything of merit to which I fix my will.  Doctor Hoffman, Young Loomis, Good Mr. Ben Stokes.  They all know that my abilities and knowledge exceed their own, and yet they doubt me and judge my potential for success by the measure of their own stunted competence.  All I ask is to be trusted and supported, and yet, after triumph after triumph, they still doubt me, negate me, and attempt to corrode my morale.

The Eel has recanted, but it is not enough.  Victoria must be liberated by force.  But how?  Think, Collins.  Think!



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