When the girls came to the famous Hall of Mirrors, a guide told them it was here that the peace treaty between the United States, England, and France on one side and Germany on the other had been signed after the First World War.
“They couldn’t have picked a more beautiful spot,” Bess murmured.
When the girls left the palace, Nancy glanced at her wrist watch. Very soon Monsieur Leblanc might be stopping at L’Orangerie. The three friends went back to the steps and waited. Minutes dragged by.
Finally George said, “I can’t stand this inactivity another second. Nancy, I’m going to climb these steps again.”
The next instant George was running up the flight of steps. When she reached the 99th, George stared in amazement, then turned around and called down to the others:
“The M9 mark is gone!”
The words were barely out of her mouth when she noticed a door in the palace being opened. No one came out, and she wondered if the girls were being spied upon.
“I must find out!” George said determinedly as she sped across the terrace.
Just as she reached the door a man’s arm shot out. In his hand was a cane with a large curved handle. Suddenly the crook of the cane reached around George’s neck and she was yanked inside the building!
CHAPTER XII
The Red King Warning
As the door of the palace closed, Bess shrieked and Nancy gasped. George was a prisoner! Whose? And why?
“M9 has kidnapped her!” cried Bess. “What’ll we do?”
Nancy was already dashing up the steps. She crossed the terrace and tried the door. It was locked!
“Oh, I must get in!” Nancy thought desperately. She turned to Bess, who had followed her. “You stay here and watch. I’ll run to the main entrance and see what I can find out.”
She sped off and tried that door. It, too, was locked!
Desperate, Nancy banged on the door panels as hard as she could. In a few minutes a guard came out.
“The palace is closed for the day, mademoiselle,” he said, annoyed.
“But listen!” Nancy pleaded. “A friend of mine was forced inside by somebody near the top of the L’Orangerie steps.”
The guard looked at Nancy skeptically. She knew he was wondering if she had suddenly gone mad.
“This is serious,” she said. “I’m not fooling. Please! My friend is in danger!”
Suddenly the guard seemed to sense that perhaps Nancy was telling the truth. He admitted her, and together the two raced up a staircase and to the door in question. No one was in sight.
The guard gave Nancy a look of disgust. “I do not like people who play jokes,” he said brusquely. “Now you had better leave. And quickly!”
Nancy was at her wit’s end. How could she convince this man? Then her eyes lighted on a pale-blue button from George’s blouse. She picked it up from the floor.
“Here’s proof,” she said to the guard, and explained where the button had come from.
“Then where is she?” he asked, now worried himself.
“We’ll have to find out,” Nancy replied.
She led the way, practically running from room to room. There was no sign of either George or her abductor.
“Maybe the fellow sneaked down one of the stairways and went out,” the guard suggested.
As the two stood debating where to search next, they suddenly saw a man in uniform dash from one of the rooms and head for the main stairway.
The guard with Nancy muttered, “Very odd. I am supposed to be the only one left on duty.”
Nancy cried out, “That man may be a fake! Come on!”
They dashed after the uniformed figure, but by the time they reached the top of the staircase he was out of sight. A door below slammed.
Out of breath, the guard said worriedly, “The fellow has probably escaped. I hope he did not steal anything.”
Nancy had a different idea—that the fugitive had grabbed George with the crook end of the cane. “He must have left my friend behind. We’ll have to keep searching!”
Nancy and the guard pressed on. Presently they reached Louis XIV’s bedroom and stood still in amazement.
George Fayne lay on the ornate bed asleep!
At least Nancy hoped that George was asleep. Fearfully she went toward her friend. Just as she reached the bed, George opened her eyes. She looked around wildly, murmuring, “Where am I?”
“Oh, thank goodness you’re all right!” Nancy cried out.
The guard’s expression was one of utter disbelief. For a moment he could only stare at George as if she were an apparition.
“George, how do you feel?” Nancy asked solicitously.
“I—I guess I’m all right,” George answered shakily. “When something hooked around my neck I blacked out.” She started to sit up.
By now the guard was thoroughly alarmed. “No, no!” he insisted. “Do not move. I shall call a doctor. And I must also inform the police at once.” He hurried off.
George protested, but Nancy agreed with the guard and insisted that George lie still. It seemed an endless time before the man returned with a physician and two police officers. After examining her, the doctor said that George was all right but should rest. Then he left.
Suddenly George burst out laughing. “This is so ridiculous! I can’t believe it really happened!” Between gales of mirth, she said, “Imagine me sleeping in Louis XIV’s bed!” Finally Nancy, the guard, and the policemen were also laughing.
George’s eyes became so filled with tears of merriment that she had to wipe them away. As she pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her blouse, a folded sheet of paper fluttered to the floor. Nancy picked it up and handed the paper back to George. When she opened it, a strange expression came over her face.
“What’s the matter?” Nancy asked.
“Somebody put this note in my pocket! It’s another warning!”
The two officers instantly became alert. “What do you mean?” one asked.
“First I’ll read the note,” she said. “Then my friend Nancy can tell you the rest.” George read aloud the typed message:“‘You girls mind your own business or grave consequences will come to you!
The Red King’”
“The Red King?” the second officer repeated. “Mais— but who is he—this Red King?”
“That’s a new name to us,” Nancy answered the question. “Other warning notes have been signed Monsieur Neuf and the Green Lion.”
She explained sketchily about Mrs. Blair’s mystery which had brought Nancy to France. The officers said that they had never heard any of the names.
“Earlier today we noticed that on the 99th step of the stairway from L’Orangerie someone put M9 in black chalk,” Nancy went on, and told the whole story of what had happened.
The officers and guard were impressed. All said that these pretty American girl detectives were brave indeed to undertake such risks.
Nancy inquired, “You are sure that none of you knows a man named Louis Aubert?”
The three shook their heads. One of the policemen asked, “Does he live around here?”
Nancy said she did not know his address. “We saw him in Paris twice—once he was dressed as an Arab. I suspect he’s involved in this mystery, and that he’s the man in a guard’s uniform we saw running away from here a while ago.”
“We will make an investigation,” the officers assured the girls. One of them reached for the note. “And examine this for fingerprints. You will come to headquarters if necessary?”
Nancy smiled. “Of course.” She told where they were staying.
“Très bien. Very good!”
George insisted that she felt much better. “Let’s get back to Bess. She’s probably frantic.”
The two girls hurried to rejoin their friend. Bess was relieved and delighted to see her cousin safe, but horrified to hear what had happened.
When the girls reached home, the Bardots were very much worried by the girls’ adventure
. “It is quite evident this Monsieur Neuf knows you three are on his trail. He is getting desperate,” said Monsieur Bardot. “From now on you girls must take every precaution.” They promised they would.
That night after dinner Nancy asked the Bardots where Josette Blair had lived as a child.
“Only a few miles from here,” Madame Bardot replied. “Would you like to see the place? I’ll take you there tomorrow morning after church.”
“Oh, wonderfull” Nancy exclaimed.
The journey took them through rolling, verdant country. There was acre upon acre of green pasture and farmland filled with a profusion of growing vegetables and flowers in bloom. It was late morning when they reached another attractive, old-time chateau surrounded by gardens.
In the front a man and a woman were busy snipping off full-grown roses. Madame Bardot turned into the drive and asked the couple if they were the present owners.
The woman replied pleasantly, “Yes, our name is Dupont. May we help you?”
The visitors alighted. After making introductions, Nancy explained that Mrs. Blair, a very good friend of hers, had lived there as a little girl. At mention of the strange dream, the Duponts were greatly interested.
“Ah, oui,” said Madame Dupont. “I do recall that Mrs. Blair lived here when she was little, but we cannot explain the dream.”
Nancy asked, “By any chance do you know her governess, who was Mademoiselle Manon?”
“We do not exactly know her,” Monsieur Dupont answered, “but a woman did stop here about five years ago. She told us she had once lived here as governess to a little girl but had lost track of her.”
“This is very exciting!” Bess spoke up. “Can you tell us where Mademoiselle Manon lives? Mrs. Blair would like to know.”
“I’m sorry, but we cannot help you,” said Madame Dupont. “At the time of her call she wanted to get in touch with Mrs. Blair but had no idea where she was. We could tell her only that Mrs. Blair had gone to the United States.”
Nancy wondered if the couple could give any kind of clue leading to Mademoiselle Manon’s present address.
“Did she happen to mention where she was going?” Nancy inquired. “Or where she might have come from?”
“No,” Monsieur Dupont replied. “But she did say she had married. Her name is Mrs. Louis Aubert.”
CHAPTER XIII
Schoolmaster Suspect
WHILE Nancy and the other girls were mulling over the startling bit of information about the governess, the Duponts’ maid came from the house.
“Pardon, madame. I could not help but overhear your conversation about a man named Aubert,” she said. “Perhaps I can be of some help to the young ladies.”
Everyone looked eagerly at her, and Mrs. Dupont said, “Yes, Estelle?”
The maid, who was a little older than the girls, turned to Nancy. “I come from Orléans. I went to school there two years ago, and one of my masters was Monsieur Louis Aubert.”
This statement excited Nancy still more. Was she on the verge of a really big discovery?
“Tell me about the man. Was he in his fifties?” she asked.
“Yes.” Estelle described her schoolmaster in detail. He certainly could be the Louis Aubert for whom Nancy was looking!
“Can you give me his address?” she asked the maid.
“I am afraid not, except I am sure his home is in Orléans.”
“Did you ever meet his wife?” Nancy inquired.
Estelle shook her head. “I do not even know her name.”
Nancy thanked the girl, saying, “What you’ve told us might be of great help.” She also expressed her appreciation to the Duponts, who said they were very happy to have met the Americans and wished them luck in their search.
During the drive home, the entire conversation revolved about Louis Aubert. Bess remarked, “Do you suppose he’s leading a double life—one as a respectable schoolteacher, and the other as a crook?”
“It certainly looks that way,” George said.
Nancy suggested, “How about going to Orléans and checking?”
Everyone thought this a good idea. After an early breakfast the next morning the three girls set off, prepared to stay overnight if necessary.
Madame Bardot kissed them good-by, saying, “If your sleuthing in Orléans should take much time and you girls plan to stay, please phone me.”
“I certainly will,” said Nancy, “and let you know how we’re getting along.”
A short time later the girls’ conversation turned to the city of Orléans and its place in history.
“From the time I was a child,” said Bess, “Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orléans, was one of my favorite heroines.”
George added, “The idea of a girl soldier appeals to me. What terrific courage she had! That much of her story I do remember well.”
Nancy smiled. “I wish we had Joan on this trip with us. She was a pretty good detective, too.”
“Imagine a young peasant girl saving her country!” Bess remarked.
“Yes,” said Nancy. “Joan was only seventeen when she requested a horse, armor, and an escort of men from a French commander to help fight the English invaders.”
“I’ll bet he laughed at her,” George remarked.
“He did at first,” Nancy continued, “but finally consented. Joan also wanted to help put Charles VII, the Dauphin, on the throne at Reims, which was held by the English. Charles was a weak man and had little money.”
“And still he wanted to be crowned king?” George asked.
“Yes. He didn’t want the English to take over France,” Nancy went on. “When Joan arrived at Charles’ castle and offered to help, the Dauphin decided to test the peasant girl’s ability.”
“How did he do that?” George interrupted.
“By slipping in among his courtiers and asking one of the nobles to sit on the throne. But he couldn’t fool her—she showed up the hoax at once.”
Nancy smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “Joan glanced at the man on the throne, then walked directly to Charles and curtsied. Everyone was amazed, since she had never seen the Dauphin in person.”
Bess put in excitedly, “Yes, and Joan claimed she had seen a vision of the Dauphin. That’s how she knew him.”
George wrinkled her brow. “Joan finally did succeed in getting the king to Reims, didn’t she?”
“Oh, yes,” said Nancy. “Charles gave her a sword and banner and troops. In 1429 she rode into Orléans and freed the city from the English. Then the king was crowned.”
“Unfortunately,” Bess added, “she was captured a short time later and burned at the stake for heresy!”
“And you know,” Nancy concluded, “twenty-four years after Joan’s death at Rouen she was declared innocent. Now she’s a saint!”
The girls became silent, thinking about the brave peasant girl and viewing the lovely countryside of the Loire valley. The soil was rich and the air sweet with mingled scents of fruit and flowers.
Later, as Nancy pulled into the city of Orléans, Bess requested that they go directly to the famous old square called La Place Ville Martroi, where a statue of Jeanne d’Arc on horseback graced the center. Nancy parked on a side street, and the girls went to gaze at the figure in armor high on a large pedestal.
At that moment the girls heard music. “That’s a marching tune,” said George. “Wonder what’s up.”
A crowd had begun to gather in the square. Speaking in French, Nancy asked the man standing beside her the reason for the music. He said a small parade was on its way. Soon the square was filled with onlookers.
Again Nancy spoke to the man. “Pardon, monsieur, but do you happen to know a schoolmaster in town named Louis Aubert? I should like to find him.”
He nodded. “Mais oui, Monsieur Aubert is the bandleader in the parade.”
Nancy and her friends could have jumped in excitement. In a few moments the schoolmaster suspect would appear!
As the music ca
me closer, the girls strained their eyes to see the beginning of the parade. Suddenly a small boy standing near Nancy found he was too short to see the parade. He jumped over the flowers and onto a section of bench that surrounded the base of St. Joan’s statue. Like a monkey he clambered up the pedestal.
“Oh, that’s dangerous!” Bess cried out. “He’ll fall!”
The boy was just pulling himself to the top of the pedestal when Nancy saw one of his hands slip. Instantly she jumped onto the bench. “Hold on!” she called to the boy.
The lad clawed wildly at the pedestal, but lost his grip. With a cry he dropped into Nancy’s outstretched arms. The shock knocked the two into the flower bed. Neither was hurt.
“Merci, mademoiselle,” the boy murmured, as they got to their feet.
By this time the crowd had begun to cheer. Nancy was embarrassed, particularly when the boy’s mother rushed up and threw her arms around Nancy. In voluble French she expressed her thanks over and over again.
Nancy smiled, freed herself gently, and made her way back to Bess and George.
“Great rescue, Nancy,” said George. “But in all the excitement we missed seeing the beginning of the parade. The band has gone down another street.”
Dismayed, Nancy’s instinct was to run after the band and try to spot the leader. But that was impossible. Several policemen had appeared and re fused to let the bystanders move about until the entire parade had passed.
The shock knocked them into the flower bed
“It’s a shame!” George declared. “Maybe we can catch up with Louis Aubert somewhere else.”
Nancy sighed. “I hope so.”
The man to whom Nancy had talked earlier turned to her and said, “Pardon, mademoiselle, I see you have missed your friend. Would it help for you to speak to Madame Aubert?”
“Oh, yes!” Nancy replied.
“She is standing in that doorway across the square.”
Nancy caught a glimpse of the woman as the marchers went by. But by the time the square was clear and the girls could cross, Madame Aubert had vanished.