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So there you are, trotting along in your horse-drawn carriage in the year 1888. It is a pleasant scene, although you might have chosen not to find your left-hand wheels spinning vainly over the brink of a ravine. The fact that the carriage itself has exploded into flames could also be thought disagreeable. And, while polite society would applaud the presence of a beautiful young woman inside the carriage, eyebrows would be raised at the gentleman accompanying her, who seems to have been bolted and stitched together from portions of other gentlemen. Oh, and there is one other matter: some form of wolverine, as large as a shire horse but rather less placid, has leaped onto ...