“You mean Lord Chamberlain?” asked Ian, still confused by this line of questioning.
“Yes,” said Thatcher. “What does she know of him?”
“Very little, I’d guess,” said Ian. “I mean, she could know his name and all, but I doubt she knows much more than that.”
“This is most troubling,” said Thatcher, pacing again.
“Please, sir,” said Ian, his fear and worry getting the better of him. “Can you kindly tell us what this has to do with what made Theo so upset?”
Thatcher sat on the edge of the table and looked directly at Ian. “The leader of Germany is a man named Adolf Hitler,” he began. “They call him the Führer. And Germany’s flag has changed recently. It could definitely be described as a crooked black cross on a sea of deep red, the color of blood.”
Ian gasped and heard Carl do the same. “The Fury,” he murmured.
Thatcher nodded, then continued. “My brother and I spent a few months in Berlin two summers ago, watching the Summer Olympics. It’s where we met the earl, in fact. During our stay there, we got to know many Berliners, and what we heard from them was alarming. Many of the Germans we shared conversations with felt a great resentment toward Western Europe. They feel the reparations—the money owed to us by Germany as a punishment for starting the Great War—were an overly harsh and unfair amount. In fact, Thatcher and I left Berlin early; the loathing many people had shown us made the place rather inhospitable. And it is my unpopular belief that Germany is quickly becoming a dangerous and unpredictable adversary.”
“Gaw blimey!” exclaimed Carl. “Theo knows they’re going to attack us!”
Thatcher’s mouth thinned to a very narrow line. “I sincerely hope not,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “If Germany and its allies ever issued an assault against us, we’d be pressed into another world war.”
Ian felt the blood drain from his face. He couldn’t explain how, but he knew in his heart that Theo’s ranting did indeed refer to the German führer. “This is terrible,” he said, looking at Carl, who nodded.
Thatcher paced back and forth some more. “Yes,” he said. “And the situation is further complicated by the fact that Poland, France, and England have formed an alliance to keep Germany in check. If Germany were to attack anywhere, it would likely be Poland first—which lies to our east. If Germany were to make such a move, then France and England would be obligated to come to her defense.”
“So what do we do?” asked Ian meekly after a long stretch of tense silence. His brain hurt from all these distressing thoughts.
“I’d like to talk with Theo,” said Thatcher. “But I realize in light of recent events she might be in too fragile a state of mind. That’s why I’d like to prepare a list of questions for her and I’d like you, Ian, to ask them.”
Ian scowled. “I don’t know, sir,” he said protectively. “She was really out of sorts. I think it might make her sick again to ask her about what she was seeing and I’d rather not.” There was no way Ian was going to risk sending Theo back into hysterics just to satisfy his schoolmaster’s curiosity.
Thatcher sat down in a chair with a heavy sigh. “Right. We don’t want to make the girl any more distressed than she already is. Let’s give her some time, and if she returns to a state of relative calm, then I’d like you to ask her a question or two at a time, Ian. If she reacts adversely, then we’ll drop the subject. If she’s able to give you some insight, then we’ll proceed cautiously.”
“Very well, sir,” said Ian, not at all happy that he’d been put into such a delicate situation.
“Now, I’ve kept you two long enough,” announced Thatcher. “Hurry on to your midday meal and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”
As Ian and Carl left the room, Carl whispered, “I don’t like this business of bombs and war.”
“Neither do I,” said Ian, a cold shiver running down his spine.
THE VAN SCHUFTS
I an ate his lunch with little enthusiasm. Beside him even Carl seemed too distracted to eat.
After lunch Ian and his group of students were again called out onto the lawn, where they had their first lesson in French with Schoolmaster Goodwyn. Although Ian was still distracted by worried thoughts of Theo, he was at least grateful that they would finally be learning a language other than Latin.
The lesson was difficult as Thatcher explained the conjugation of various verbs, but eventually the children were allowed to put their pencils down and take a short break before they began their English lessons. “At least we’ll understand what he’s saying,” said Carl moodily as they left the lawn.
Ian gave his new friend a chummy pat on the back, then excused himself to dash inside and search for Madam Dimbleby He looked quickly about the sitting room and the parlor before heading up to the first floor, where he finally spotted her outside one of the bedrooms with her back to him as she spoke in low tones with Dr. Lineberry, the doctor from the village.
Thinking quickly, Ian ducked into one of the bedrooms close by before the two adults saw him, so that he could hear what the doctor had to say about Theo. “As far as I can tell,” said the doctor, “her hand is not infected, but the hallucinations and hysteria are a definite sign of fever.”
“But the child’s cold as ice,” insisted Madam Dimbleby.
“Yes,” replied the doctor. “I agree. The only other diagnosis is acute mental breakdown, and given the excitement the young lass has been through of late, it’s not out of the realm of possibility.”
“Oh, no,” said Madam Dimbleby, and Ian felt cold fear grip his heart like a vise. “Dr. Lineberry, what are we to do?” the headmistress asked.
“I’ve given her a sedative to calm her nerves. For the time being keep her in bed and keep her quiet. If her condition worsens, call me immediately.”
“And what will we do if she doesn’t recover?”
Ian held his breath, waiting for the doctor to answer. He could feel his heart hammering as Dr. Lineberry paused before he finally said, “Maggie, we may have to consider admitting her to a sanitarium.”
“Oh, my,” said Madam Dimbleby, and Ian closed his eyes and sank to the floor. It was the worst thing the doctor could have said. “Dr. Lineberry,” Madam continued, “do you really think her condition would warrant that?”
The doctor sighed. “The symptoms are certainly there, and we’ll know in time if this hysteria is a permanent condition or a passing moment of nerves from her recent experience. I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow. Again, you must keep her as calm and quiet as possible until I return.”
Madam Dimbleby thanked the doctor and walked with him down the hallway, past where Ian was quietly hiding. When their footsteps had become faint, he stepped out of the room and moved down to Theo’s door. He knocked very softly before easing himself inside.
Theo was lying in one of the two twin beds in the room. Her face was small and pale against the pillow it rested on and Ian felt his knees wobble at the sight of her looking so frail. As he quietly closed the door, she opened her eyes and gave him the faintest smile. “Ian,” she said sleepily.
Ian forced a smile onto his face, crossed the room to her, and took a seat on the edge of her bed. “Don’t try to talk, Theo,” he said, working hard to sound calm and push down the panic and fear that threatened to give him away. “The doctor says you need your rest.”
Theo shook her head and sat forward, her hand going to her neck as she pulled at the chain with her mother’s crystal. “It’s the necklace,” she said hoarsely. “The moment I put it on, I began to feel odd.”
Ian helped her take the necklace off and immediately the color seemed to return to her cheeks and the worry in her eyes relaxed. “That’s better,” she said with a sigh of relief.
Ian dangled the pink crystal in front of his eyes, stupefied that something like a small crystal necklace could be at the root of Theo’s breakdown. “This is why you got so upset?” he asked her.
Theo nodded adamantly
. “Yes,” she said firmly. “The moment it was around my neck, I felt an intense worry, and then these horrible images began to play in my head and words came out of my mouth that I couldn’t stop.”
Ian wrapped the crystal in his fist, angry that he’d been the one to give it to her. “I’ll get rid of it this instant,” he promised her. “You’ll never have to see this necklace again!”
“No!” she said in alarm, putting a hand on his closed fist. “Don’t throw it away! Just keep it for me until I feel better.”
Ian was taken aback. “But if this is causing you harm, we can’t possibly keep it!” he argued.
Theo gave him a pleading look. “Please,” she said wearily. “I can’t explain it, but I know I’m not supposed to let it go.”
Ian struggled over what to do. If the crystal was the source of her hysteria, then he was all for sending it straight over the cliffs into the swirling water below to keep her safe. But as he looked at her, he knew he couldn’t deny Theo the only heirloom her mother had left her, and the look in her eyes swayed him in the end. Pocketing the crystal, he said, “Fine. But if this ever happens again, I’m chucking it to the fishes.”
Theo sank back into her pillow, relief on her face and a small smile on her lips as her eyelids drooped. A moment later she was asleep. Ian watched her for several minutes, still struggling with the promise he’d just made. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her go through another episode like she’d had out on the lawn, but he couldn’t go back on his word to her either.
Finally, he pulled the bedcovers up under her chin, gave her a gentle peck on the top of her forehead, and eased out of the room.
“Lessons are beginning again, Master Wigby,” Madam Dimbleby said quietly from behind him in the hallway, making him jump.
“Sorry, Madam,” he said, turning quickly from the door he’d just closed. “I only wanted to check on her.”
“Yes,” said Madam Dimbleby. “I assumed after you heard what the doctor had to say that you’d want to see her.”
Ian blushed and murmured, “Very sorry, Madam.”
The headmistress chuckled and stroked his hair. “You never were one for rules where Theo was concerned, were you, Ian?”
Ian looked up and begged, “Please don’t send her away, ma’am! Don’t let the doctor put her in that sanitarium! I promise I’ll keep her calm.”
Madam Dimbleby’s eyes suddenly filled with moisture and she reached out abruptly to pull him into a fierce embrace. After a long moment she let go, smoothed out his hair, and said, “Now, hurry along to your lessons. I’ll sit with Theo for now.”
Ian fought back his own emotions and hurried down the stairs. Through one of the windows that faced the lawn, he could see the children taking their seats and Schoolmaster Thatcher shuffling through his notes. Ian dashed outside. As he sat down Carl whispered, “How is she?”
Ian forced a small smile. “I think she’s going to be all right,” he said, and his hand moved to the lump in his pocket. If I can keep this away from her, at least, he thought.
* * *
That evening as the children, Madam Scargill, and Thatcher were gathered in one of the large sitting rooms on the second floor, the earl and his hunting party came back to the castle.
Ian, who’d been working through his French homework, nudged Carl. “Let’s have a listen,” he whispered, and the two boys discreetly scooted out the door and made their way to the banister, where they could look down on the returning men as they handed over their coats and rifles to the earl’s staff.
“I tell you, it’s the oddest thing I’ve ever seen!” Ciaran was saying. “I’ve never been on a hunt where there was absolutely no sign of the prey at all. Even the hounds we brought along today couldn’t pick up the trail!”
“It’s like the creature has vanished,” added Alfred.
“Or dived into the channel,” said Henry as a footman took his coat.
“At least we’ve been able to alert the village,” said the earl. “Should that horror show its face again anywhere near here, we’ll know about it and we’ll be ready.”
“That’s not good,” whispered Carl. “I thought for sure they were going to kill the beast today.”
Ian nodded, deeply troubled by the fact that the hell-hound and her pups were still on the loose.
The boys watched as Binsford stepped up to the earl and announced, “Dinner is awaiting you and your guests in the dining hall when you’re ready, my lord.”
“Excellent, Binsford,” said the earl, his cheeks still pink from the cold outside. “We’re looking forward to something warm for dinner. Did you have any luck making arrangements for the repairs at the keep?”
“I’ve hired two carpenters and several laborers from the village, my lord,” he said. “Also, the furniture and supplies have been ordered from London and, I have been assured, will arrive on the next train. The keep will be repaired and resupplied by the end of the week, as you requested,” Binsford finished with a bow.
“Brilliant job, Mr. Binsford,” said the earl with a kind smile. “And how are the children faring?”
Binsford hesitated and Ian had a sneaking suspicion that the butler was unsure how to broach the topic of Theo’s breakdown. “Most are doing quite well,” said Binsford. “Only one of them seems to be struggling with the intensity of these recent events.”
The earl frowned. “Which child?” he asked.
“Miss Theo Fields, my lord,” said Binsford. “The poor girl had a bit of a collapse this afternoon during lessons. Madam Dimbleby is attending to her upstairs, in fact.”
The earl glanced upward and Ian and Carl ducked away from the banister and edged quickly around the corner. “Do you think he saw us?” whispered Carl as the pair hurried back to the sitting room.
“I’d bet on it,” said Ian glumly, ashamed of having been caught eavesdropping.
They snuck back into the sitting room and took their seats, and Ian felt his cheeks turn red as Thatcher looked directly at them while arching one eyebrow. “Looks like someone noticed we’d ducked out,” murmured Ian.
Carl glanced quickly at Thatcher, then back to his homework. “Bugger,” he said with a sigh as he flipped open his notebook again.
As the large clock in the corner dinged seven times, the earl appeared in the doorway, beaming at everyone in the sitting room. “Good evening, children!” he said in his charismatic, booming voice. “I trust that you’ve been on your best behavior, and your lessons went well.”
“They went well until certain people started making scenes,” groused Searle from nearby. Ian glared furiously at him, and his nemesis merely sneered in return.
The earl either ignored Searle’s comment or he did not hear it, because he continued. “Children, by the week’s end you shall all be moving back to the keep. Your clothing and furniture is being replaced, and repairs will have been completed. For the next few days, you will remain here and attend to your studies, but be prepared to move back to your home by Friday afternoon.”
“And how went the hunt, my lord?” Thatcher asked.
The earl’s smile never wavered. “We did not kill the beast,” he said, and all the children moaned. “However,” the earl continued, “I am thoroughly convinced that the creature has moved her litter someplace well away from Dover. I am assured, as I have seen no sign of her nearby in two days.”
Ian saw Madam Scargill pull nervously at the collar of her dress. “Are you certain we’ll be safe to return to the keep, my lord?” she asked.
The earl smiled at her. “Yes, Gertrude, I’m sure. But I’ve taken the liberty of adding two men with rifles to your staff and I’ve also hired several men from the village to patrol the roads and the area along the cliffs day and night for the next several months. And I’ve sent word to the neighboring counties to be on the lookout for the creature. I expect that eventually news will spread and the beast and her pups will be hunted down and properly disposed of.”
Madam Scargill s
eemed to relax. “That’s wonderful, my lord. Thank you for seeing to our comfort and safety,” she said, giving the children a look that suggested they too needed to thank their benefactor.
Ian and the rest of the group obediently cheered a round of thanks to their patriarch, who chuckled and waved his hands humbly. “Yes, yes,” he said. “Now, back to your studies, children.”
As the earl turned toward the hallway, Thatcher got up from his chair, walked carefully but quickly through the maze of students to him, and said in a low voice that Ian was just able to overhear, “My lord, if I might have a moment with you in private?”
The earl looked quizzically at the younger man and replied, “Yes, of course, Thatcher.”
“Thank you. And might I ask that my brother join us?” But before Ian could hear the earl’s answer, the two of them had moved into the hallway and out of earshot.
“What do you think that was about?” whispered Carl.
Ian looked at Carl in surprise. He hadn’t realized that his friend had been working to overhear too. “Probably what happened out on the lawn today,” he grumbled. He didn’t like having Theo be the focus of so much attention and was deeply concerned that the earl might want to question her when what she really needed was rest.
He didn’t like the knot of anxiety that settled into the pit of his stomach every time he thought about what Thatcher had told him. Theo’s predictions were likely to be accurate given Thatcher’s revelations about Germany’s führer. Even that bit about Poland bothered him.
“Ah,” said Carl with a nod. “That can’t be good,” he added before turning back to his French homework.
Ian tried to concentrate on his studies again as well but his mind kept wandering back to how weak and frail Theo was in her bed just down the hallway.
He was saved from his mental struggles when, a half hour after the earl and Thatcher had left them, the schoolmaster reappeared in their doorway. “Master Wigby?” he said in a quiet voice, so as not to disturb the other children. “Won’t you please join the earl and me for a moment downstairs?”