Chapter XVII - An Escape
He had not seen the key yet. It was in my hand, but still in my pocket. If I could only drop it and kick it under the door unnoticed...but it would clatter. I had to distract him.
I hauled back, as if trying to get away from him, and I dropped the key. It made noise, but I was scuffling and banging myself against the door. Tybalt stood, making no effort whatsoever, other than holding my arm.
“Really, Pipsqueak, you won’t get away,” he said with a laugh. I just jerked harder, which nearly pulled my arm out of my socket, but it did not loosen his grip. The point of the jerk, however, was to change my position, so I could see where the key fell. It was right next to the door. I pretended to give up and fall against the door, dragging my foot sideways, and incidentally knocking the key under the door and out of sight.
“Giving up already?” Tybalt still seemed slightly amused, but there was a serious edge to his voice. He pulled me away from the door and looked at me with a frown. “Now, how did you get here?”
“I....” I paused to swallow nervously. Then I looked down as if I were giving up. “I came in Hugo’s carriage.”
“Funny, he didn’t mention bringing you.” He turned and pulled me around toward the stairs
“In the box seat,” I said quickly, as he twisted my arm behind my back. “I hid in the box seat when I heard he was going somewhere.” Tybalt hesitated as he thought about this. I hoped Hugo’s coach had a box seat.
“Then you didn’t know where you were going.”
“I guessed.” That sounded too much like an explanation. I thought I had better make it sound like a brag. “And I was right, too.”
“And no one knows you’re here.”
“No,” I said, after a falsely reluctant hesitation.
“Well, you did guess right.” He shook his head. He looked amused again, although he did not seem quite able to make up his mind what mood he should be in. “Oh, Albert. Or...what is your name anyway? A something. Anna, isn’t that what the girl said?”
“Yes, Anna.”
“Anna, Anna. It’s a pity you’re not on our side. You’d have much more fun.”
“As much fun as Mrs. MacGuffin? Or should I say Duchess?”
“So you know about that.”
“She told me she was Duchess von Kirsau.”
“She always went by her professional name, MacGuffin,” said Tybalt. “They had to keep the marriage a secret from Hugo. That’s the cause of all the trouble. You see, Hugo found out.”
“After he’d already started arrangements for the royal wedding.”
“That’s right.”
“And you’re the one who told him.”
“Somebody had to.” Tybalt chuckled. “It certainly put a crimp in the old boy’s plans.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
“That depends on what is convenient. If you’re very lucky, I might take you out of the country with me.”
“What if I’m not lucky?”
“That’s too bad for you.”
He pushed me toward the stairs. As we went down the man guarding them leaped to his feet.
“He didn’t get past me,” he said.
“Then get up to the top of the stairs, idiot!” said Tybalt.
As we reached the foyer, the door to one of the sitting rooms slid open. I found myself face to face with Hugo.
“Caught this urchin snooping around,” said Tybalt. “He came in your carriage, Uncle. You should have been more careful.”
“What does he know?” said Hugo.
“All he needs to.”
“He can’t be allowed to say anything!”
“He won’t be. The question is, where shall we put him.”
“Lock him in with that woman.”
“No, no. The two of them together will be much too dangerous. Do you have a lockable trunk or wardrobe about the place?”
Sigmond appeared in the doorway behind Hugo. He was looking rather sullen and angry, but he fished in his pocket and produced a key.
“Here,” he said. “My dressing room will do.”
Back up the stairs we went, past the man at the top, and around the corner to the room where the lady was kept. I hoped she had seen the key. Her door was still closed. Tybalt paused to check the knob, and found it still locked. Then he pushed me along further to a room a couple of doors down.
I barely got a glimpse of the room before Tybalt shoved me into the dressing room and shut the door, locking it.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said. “When we’ve made a decision about what to do with you.”
I tried the doorknob, just in case. It was locked. I looked through the keyhole, and did not see much of anything. I sat on the floor and felt around. The dressing room was simply a very large closet with some shelving and a chair and dresser. There was nothing much in it. A little clothing, but not so much as a hairbrush in the dresser. Sigmond must not use the place often, I thought. I did find that the door had a large crack under it, almost an inch.
I lay down and peeked under. I could see the base of the door of the room, because dim light came under it from the hall. That light was enough to see a good bit of the floor and rug, and one post of the bed. The rest was out of my view, or too dark to see. I moved the chair to the center of the room, and stood on it to see if I could find anything on the higher shelves. Nothing but dust. I climbed back down and waited.
Then I heard quiet, shuffling footsteps in the room. I lay flat and peeked under the door. I could make out the stocking feet and cuffs of a man’s trousers. They were coming toward me. I pulled back, feeling around for something to defend myself with. The doorknob turned and stopped. Whoever it was did not have the key.
“Girl?”
It was Mrs. MacGuffin.
“You found the key?” I said.
“Yes, yes, but it doesn’t fit this lock. It is too big.”
“How did you find me?”
“I came in here to find some trousers. I hid under the bed when he brought you in here. Are there any boots in there? I need something for my feet if we are to escape.” I heard her move away as she spoke, and drawers began to open and close.
“Yes, there are boots in here. What are you doing?”
“I am looking for the key to the dressing room.”
“I think he kept it. Just slip me a hairpin under the door, and I’ll see if I can pick the lock.”
I had no idea how to pick a lock, and I doubted if I could. It was more useful than standing and waiting, though.
“Ah, what’s this?” said the lady. The shuffling sounds stopped. “This will be useful.”
“What? A key?” I said.
“No key,” she said. “Not yet.”
She made no more sound, and I figured she was thinking.
“He did take it with him,” she said at last. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve thought of something else. I will be back.”
I did not like the way she said it did not matter. Was she giving up on the escape again? I could hear her moving away from me.
“Don’t take any chances,” I called through the door as loudly as I dared. “There’s no need. The marquis will be here soon.”
“It’s all right, girl,” she said. “I will get the key. Do not worry.”
The tone of her voice did make me worry. She did not sound resigned, as she had before, but she sounded...too determined. I was afraid she was determined to get the key, even if it meant wrestling it from Tybalt herself.
I heard the door open and close. Then there were voices out in the hall. I pressed my ear against the door, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying. The door burst open again, and she was shouting angrily as she came back into the room.
“Keep away from me,” she said. Her faint, scuffling footsteps were accompanied by loud footsteps, someone with boots on. I dropped to the ground as fast as I cou
ld, to look under the door, but I knocked the little chair aside, and its clatter covered what the man said. Now I could see the light from the hall glinting on his riding boots, as he stood. She had backed out of sight, into the corner.
“Your plot is over,” she said defiantly. “You are done for. I swear you are....”
The boots stepped quickly toward her, out of my sight, and there was an explosion. It was so loud I could feel it. Then for a moment, there was no sound at all.
He shot her? No, it couldn’t be. But there were no more voices. Just the sound of shuffling, as if something heavy, like a body were being pushed aside.
They had killed her. They had got Sigmond to agree and they had done it. I rolled onto my back and put my hands over my mouth, stifling an angry shout. I could hear more dragging and shuffling, so I covered my ears and tried to stop shaking. Even as I shook in horror at what they had done to her, I was thinking they would soon come after me.
I could hear his boots, clomping quickly across the room. Would he remember me? Maybe he would forget until after the marquis came. I heard the door again, and he left. He’d forgotten. Or maybe he just did not think it was urgent. He did not know the marquis was coming.
I sat up and felt around again to see if I could defend myself. The chair was too unwieldy, but I might be able to do something with it. I heard footsteps again, and the sound of the door. Light poured under my door as he entered the room. He had gone for a lamp.
I laid down and looked under the door. His boots crossed the room and stopped just beside the bed. From the way the shadows fell, he was holding the lamp high, looking at the scene in the light. He cursed under his breath, and set the lamp down. Then he came straight toward me.
I did not have the chance to grab the chair. I was only half up when the door opened and revealed Tybalt. He was frowning and he seemed angry. He grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet.
“How much did you see?” he snapped. I shook my head. He gave me a vigorous shake. “Do you know what happened? Tell me.”
I leaned sideways to see beyond him. He pulled me back in line and made me look into his eyes. His nose was barely an inch from mine.
“Well, what?” he hissed.
“Nothing,” I said. It was almost automatic, like an answer to Bloch when I had done something wrong. “I didn’t see anything.”
He looked me over. “If you’re smart, you’ll stick to that story,” he said. He stepped back, taking me with him into the room. He looked around, chewing his lip. The lamp cast weird shadows across the bed, where the dress she had taken off was sprawled. I thought it was her for a moment. Then I saw her stockinged feet sticking out from behind the bed, where she had fallen...or been dragged.
Tybalt took up the lamp, and dashed it against the bed post, where it exploded into a small fire. He was destroying the evidence, just as he had in the church. I began to feel sick.
“Think of it as a cremation,” he said casually, as the room became smoky and hot. He seemed almost sympathetic.
“Murderer!” I screamed, and I butted my head into his stomach. He fell backward, nearly into the fire, and I fled out the door.
Tybalt came after me, but fear and horror made me fast. As I came around the corner the man was sitting on the top stair, with his back to me. He leapt to his feet, and reached for me, but just then Tybalt yelled at him.
“Stop that girl!”
The man paused and looked around for the girl. I dashed past him to the backstairs, but as I yanked the door open and started to swing down, I saw someone else coming up the stairs. The only way to go was up. That’s the way I went. Tybalt dashed up after me. I could hear the men puffing behind him.
“That’s a boy,” said one of them.
“What’s the difference? Help me catch her!” Tybalt called over his shoulder.
The door at the top was small, and thank goodness it was not locked. I threw myself through it and slammed the bolt into place. It was a flimsy bolt. It would not hold them long. Already I heard the bang of them trying to batter it down.
“I’d think you would know the difference between a girl and a boy, Stenbau,” said a voice behind the door.
“Yeah, didn’t anyone ever teach you the difference?” said another. They both chuckled.
“Get this door down,” said Tybalt in exasperation.
The banging got louder, and it was accompanied by cracking sounds of the door giving way.
I had entered the attic to the older peaked roof. There was no other exit, and soon they would have the door down. Even if they did not, the fire would soon be there. There were gables in the roof, however, and the gables had windows.
The first window sash was warped and it would not move, as was the second, but the third lifted up slowly. I tugged at it, an inch at a time.
The door splintered and the three men tumbled into the room. I squeezed through the opening in the window.