“Miss Davenport, her name is. She used to be a teacher in England—Cheltenheim, or somewhere. She used to teach Miss Lucy and Miss Charlotte. She’s traveling, and she thought she’d call in and pay ’em a visit—why, what’s the matter?”
Because I’d had to sit down in astonishment. Their teacher! Come to see them! And now she was going up to the castle, and—
I’d have to go and talk to her. If I hurried, I might be able to catch her. “Which way did Constable Winkelburg take her?” I said.
“I don’t know! The sergeant just said to take her to the parish boundary and leave her there. He was getting a bit cross, and as soon as this lady spoke up to him, he thought he’d better take a firm line. You know how he is. Such a shame—she was a nice lady, too, and she’d only just arrived. But she said she’d been in tighter places than this: that she’d been exploring in Borneo and the king of the headhunters had condemned her to death, and that she’d shot him and escaped! You should have seen the constable’s face!”
“Ma, listen….” And I told her the whole thing.
She sat down and her mouth opened wide with amazement. Finally she held up her hand. “I won’t hear another word,” she said. “And I’m not having you going down the cellar and stirring up that brother of yours, either. He’d like nothing better than an excuse to go tearing over the mountains on a wild-goose chase. He’s in trouble with the law, don’t you understand? And that’s real trouble, not some nonsense about ghosts and spirits and demon huntsmen. You get off up the mountain and bring those poor little girls back to the castle. You’ve frightened them out of their wits with these tales of yours—now go and get them back! Go on!”
She didn’t believe me….And now she was angry. Oh, it wasn’t all anger; I knew that well enough. There was worry in it, too, both for Peter and for the two girls—and for me, because she could see me getting into trouble and losing my position at the castle. There was nothing to be done.
“All right, I’ll go,” I said, knowing I’d do nothing of the sort. I stood up. “But you won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“You’re a silly girl,” was all the reply I got to that; so I turned to go.
I went through the kitchen door into the parlor—and heard a voice that stopped me dead.
The kitchen door was right next to the foot of the stairs, and someone—two men were coming down the staircase as I came through the door. I looked up. I’d never seen them before; they were obviously new guests, come for the shooting contest. They looked into the parlor, saw what Sergeant Snitsch was doing, and paused. Neither of them saw me, because the door into the kitchen was set back a little way, in the shadows; and one of the men said to the other: “Look, Max—that fat fool’s inspecting papers….”
It was the man from the cave!
I didn’t move.
“Have you got any papers, Doctor Cadaverezzi?” said the other man quietly, the one called Max.
“Not yet,” said the first man. He was the one with the actor’s voice, and he looked like an actor, too; he was wearing a large broad-brimmed hat with a great sweeping feather in it, and a long black cloak. Max, the servant (or so I guessed), was dressed more simply. He had an honest, cheerful face, and I thought: If only we’d known that last night—I’m sure he wouldn’t have hurt us….The doctor’s face was handsome, I couldn’t deny that: dark, powerful features, strong white teeth, and glittering eyes—but again that quality of actorishness came into my mind. He’s impressive, I thought, but I don’t trust him.
“What are we going to do, then?” said Max.
“Leave it to me,” said the doctor. “Nothing could be easier.” And he sauntered casually to the end of the queue and tapped some stranger on the shoulder. The stranger looked round, and the doctor pointed through the window and said something to make him stare in that direction; and while he was doing that, the doctor slipped his hand into the stranger’s pocket and drew out his papers. You villain! I thought. He’ll get into trouble now, all because of you….But I couldn’t help watching, to see what would happen next. Max sat down at the foot of the stairs, only an arm’s length away from where I stood in the shadows.
The doctor reached the front of the queue; the stranger was still searching his pockets, mystified. When the sergeant had inspected the papers, the doctor beckoned him to follow. They came toward the stairs; I pretended to be dusting in the comer.
“I imagine,” said the doctor smoothly as the sergeant came up, “that you are looking for Brilliantini?”
(Brilliantini? Where had I heard that name before? Oh, yes! The confidence trickster who’d escaped from prison. Surely this couldn’t be him?)
The sergeant stared to left and right and then thrust his head forward, whiskers bristling, and said in a low voice, “Yes! But how do you know?”
“I am a member of the Venetian Secret Service,” said the doctor. “Very confidential, you understand.”
“Oh! My word! Yes!”
“I, too, am looking for this villain. He is wanted for several desperate crimes in Venice.”
“Good heavens!”
“He is very dangerous, you understand?”
“Is he, really?”
“He would shoot you as soon as look at you, Sergeant. I advise you not to get close to him.”
“Well, I never…”
“We had better work together on this case. I shall give all my information to you, and you can tell me everything that you know.”
“Good idea!”
“There is a reward for his capture—I suppose you were told by the authorities?”
“A reward, eh? Er—how much might that be, then, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“For anyone who aids in his capture, the State has ordered that a medal be especially struck.”
The sergeant’s eyes lit up and his chest thrust itself forward, as if the medal was already twinkling on the front of it. “A medal, eh?” he said.
“Yes,” said the doctor solemnly. “The Order of the Golden Banana.”
“Oh! My word!”
“So—be discreet, eh, Sergeant? Not a word to a soul?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir!”
“And tell me everything you find out—every single thing.”
“Certainly, sir! Me and my constable are at your service, sir! Don’t you worry, we’ll have him under lock and key before he can turn around!”
The sergeant saluted smartly, turned around himself—and fell over the rug, crashing full length to the floor. His helmet, with the long spike on the top, rolled under the table where Rudi Gallmeyer, one of Peter’s friends, was sitting. Rudi picked up the helmet, polishing it furiously on his sleeve, and set it on the sergeant’s head.
“Thank you, Gallmeyer,” said the sergeant sternly. “Glad to see someone’s got some manners in this place.” And he stalked out proudly, quite unaware that the fresh gale of laughter that followed him was caused by the apple that Rudi had stuck on the spike before returning his helmet.
Doctor Cadaverezzi watched all this with amusement, and then turned to Max. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble with him,” he said.
And then he saw me. And winked! He must have known I’d overheard him. I didn’t know what to say. I knew he was Brilliantini and he knew I knew, and yet he didn’t seem in the least worried about it. He had a sublime, innocent confidence that overlay all his deceptive ways and turned them into play. He crooked his finger, beckoning me.
“What’s your name, young lady?” he said.
“Hildi, sir.”
“You work here, do you?”
“No, sir—I work up at the castle, but I come down here to help my mother sometimes….”
“Ah, good. Then would you give her my compliments and ask her if she will display this poster where it will be seen by all the customers?” Like a conjurer, he whisked a large roll out of his sleeve and handed it to me with a bow, sweeping his hat low along the ground with his other hand. I unrolled it.
br /> “Are you putting on a show, sir?” I said.
“This very evening!”
I was entranced. There was nothing I’d have liked better than to see his Cabinet of Wonders; but how could I, with Lucy and Charlotte to look after, up in their mountain hut with no food—and Count Karlstein raging up and down like a madman, looking for them? Doctor Cadaverezzi and Max were speaking together, quietly, and I took the poster in to Ma. She was as pleased as I was; she loved a show, which was why she never turned actors away in spite of their artistic habits. I made her promise to tell me all about it, and then hurried out.
But no sooner had I stepped through into the parlor than I hastily took a step backward again into the shadow; for there, talking earnestly to Max, was that cringing rascal Herr Snivelwurst.
“Excuse me, my man,” he said, smirking, “but have you by any chance seen two little girls in the recent past?”
“Two little girls?” said Max, looking puzzled. “How little?”
“Ten years and twelve years, respectively. Their names are Charlotte and Lucy, and they’ve been very naughty and run away from their loving home, and I’ve been ordered by their kind uncle to offer a reward for bringing ’em back again….”
I caught my breath when I heard this and I think I put my hand to my mouth; at any rate, Max saw me and looked past Snivelwurst’s shoulder. And seeing where he was looking, the secretary turned round as well.
“Ah!” he said, flapping his skinny fingers, trying to remember my name. “Er—um! Looking for the girls, are you?”
“Yes, Herr Snivelwurst,” I said.
“Where do I bring ’em, supposing I finds ’em?” said Max.
“Up to the castle, young man. Ask for Count Karlstein. But you’re not to take any notice of what those girls’ll tell you. Very artful they are, very imaginative, full of stories. Don’t listen to a word of it! Grab hold of the little perishers and bring ’em on up to the castle, and Count Karlstein’ll see to it that you don’t go away any the poorer. You won’t lose by it, I promise you that!”
“Oh, right, I’ll do that!” said Max, and I shook my head at him desperately. “I could do with some money right now. Are you all right, miss?”
“Yes—yes,” I said miserably. I’d have to find some way of speaking to him on his own. He looked friendly enough; I was sure he’d believe me, even if no one else did. But I didn’t have the chance, because Snivelwurst tucked my hand beneath his arm; Max went briskly out of the tavern one way, and we went the other.
“Come with me, my dear!” said the secretary. “You may walk up to the castle with me—you’ll enjoy that.”
I dragged my feet, I pretended to have a stone in my shoe, I pretended I’d forgotten something and would have to run back for it—I even thought of fainting, but I look too healthy to get away with that. He clung to me like ivy.
“It must be very pleasant for you, to have some cultured conversation,” he said. “I’m a person of considerable education, you know.”
“Really? Oh, dear—listen to the church bell! Is that the time? I’ll have to run on and get Count Karlstein’s lunch—”
“Don’t you worry about that, my dear; he’s out with the hounds, so he won’t be lunching at the castle. Now, let me point out some of the interesting sights of the valley for you…you might not have noticed them before. Not all eyes are as sharp as mine! Ha, ha!”
Oh! It was unbearable. How in the world could I escape from him? On and on he went, telling me about things I’d known all my life—and getting most of them wrong—and all in a tone of such greasy helpfulness that it would have choked a shark to try and swallow it.
But finally I saw a way of getting rid of him. It was drastic, but it worked. The river ran along beside the road for a little way, and I pointed into the water and said, “Ooh, look! Look at that fish, Herr Snivelwurst! What sort is it?”
“I’m by way of being an expert on natural history, my dear—you’ve asked the right man, ha, ha! Let me just step down onto this prominent rock—”
And as soon as his back was turned, I pushed him in. He roared and squealed and splashed, and I shrieked as if in dismay.
“Oh! Herr Snivelwurst, you’ve fallen in!”
“I know! I know I’ve fallen in! Help me out! Help! Help!”
“Oh, you’re drowning, Herr Snivelwurst—you’re going under—oh, I can’t bear to watch!”
“Oh—oh—oh! It’s freezing cold! Help, don’t stand there shrieking! Pull me out!”
“But—but I don’t know what to do! I’ll have to run and get help! Don’t go away! I’ll bring some men with ropes and things!”
“No—no! Don’t! Help me out—oh, oh, oh, it’s cold!” But I’d turned to go and was running as fast as I could back toward the village as his bubbling cries rose out of the river behind me. I hoped he didn’t drown—not that there was much danger of that, because the river was shallow and he’d been sitting on the rocky bottom as he yelled and squeaked for help. He might catch a cold, but it’d serve him right.
I was soon out of breath. I seemed to have done nothing since yesterday but run and climb and feel frightened. Everything was going wrong. Why was it so difficult to keep two little girls hidden for a day or so? But I had to keep trying—there was no choice in the matter. If only I could find Max before he found the girls, I might be able to enlist his help….
I did. I found him around the very next corner in the road. But someone else had found him too: a young woman, dressed as a lady’s maid, with a smart coat of brown worsted and a neat little fur-trimmed hood….And they were making the most of this chance meeting, if that’s what it was, because their arms were around each other and they were kissing as if it had just been invented and they’d been asked to try it out. I stopped still, in despair; what could I do now? I couldn’t interrupt, could I? I wouldn’t be welcomed, that was plain; but what else could I do?
I sat down beside a tree, on a dry stone that stuck up out of the snow, and waited for them to notice me.
“Oh, Maxie,” said the girl, at last.
“Oh, Eliza! Fancy running into you like this! Where’s your mistress?”
“They arrested her, Maxie! I didn’t know what to do! They were inspecting papers or something, and she didn’t have the right sort, and the fat sergeant sent a little skinny constable out to escort her to the parish boundary—but she went tearing off so fast, dragging him along behind her, that I couldn’t follow them!”
So her mistress must be…the girls’ old teacher! So she’d be bound to listen! Or—would she? As a teacher, wouldn’t she think that anything to do with the Demon Huntsman was that dreaded thing, Imagination? Wouldn’t she think that the best place for the girls was back in the castle, under the care of Count Karlstein? And so—hadn’t I better not tell this Eliza about it all? Oh, I didn’t know what to do!
“You’ve still got your trombone, Maxie?” she said fondly.
“It ain’t a trombone, Eliza, it’s a coach-horn,” he said proudly.
“And your lovely coach, Max! Have you still got it? Is that how you came here?”
“No, me love; I had an accident in Geneva. It was all because of a plate of sausages….” They strolled off slowly, arm in arm. I followed them; I couldn’t help it.
“A plate of sausages?” said Eliza.
“That’s right,” said Max mournfully. “After I set you and Miss Davenport down in Geneva, I went into a tavern to have a plate of sausages and some beer, to take me mind off the sorrow of parting from you, like. Well, I had me musket with me and I set it down on the floor beside the table, to be safe, see? But when the serving girl came with the sausages, I caught me foot in the trigger, and it was loaded, only I’d forgotten—and it went off and shot the leg off an old gentleman’s chair.”
“No!”
“And as he fell backward, he grabbed at the table, see, and upset me plate—and a steaming hot sausage flew into the air and landed down the serving girl’s neck! And so she
dropped the candle what she was carrying—and it set light to me britches….”
“Oh, Maxie!”
“So there was only one thing to do—I ran outside, yelling at one end and blazing at the other, and I jumped into the trough where old Jenny was drinking. She didn’t recognize her master, I suppose, in the heat of the moment, like, and she set off down the marketplace, upsetting stalls, with eggs and apples everywhere—and ran straight into the lake, poor girl, with the coach and all.”
“Oh, poor old Jenny! Was she all right?”
“Yes, they got her out, but that was the end of the coach. And there was me, sitting in the horse trough, with the serving girl and the old gentleman and the landlord all setting on me at once—and I stood up to defend meself, and then—that was when they arrested me.”
“Arrested you! Whatever for?”
“Well, when I stood up, I found me britches had all burned away. Very strict about britches they are, in Geneva. I had to sell poor old Jenny and the musket as well, to pay for the damage to the market, and I got thirty days in jail for appearing in public with no britches.”
“Oh, poor old Max!”
“I fell on me feet in jail, though, Eliza. I met a gent in there what had been jailed by mistake—that’s what he said, anyway. Doctor Cadaverezzi’s his name. He’s a traveling showman, and he’s got a Cabinet of Wonders. He took me on as his personal servant and magical assistant! But what that all means, my little dove, is that I ain’t got any money at the moment—and I can’t marry you as soon as we planned….”
“Oh, Maxie!”
And then they seemed to have forgotten what kissing was like, so they tried it again, just to remind themselves. I thought: I shouldn’t be listening to this. They’re a nice couple—they don’t deserve to be overheard….
“I’ve still got that present you gave me, Maxie!” she said, after a moment or two. “That funny little broken coin on a chain.” She fished it out from inside the neck of her dress and showed him.
“I couldn’t afford a ring, Eliza,” he said, “but that’s precious, that coin, I’ve had that since I was a tiny baby. It’s a token of my love, me love.”