Chapter XVI - The Lady
I was approaching the house from the other side this time. The territory was unfamiliar. Suddenly the wall of the new wing loomed up out of the fog. I slammed face first into it. I had not hit hard, but I stayed up against the wall in case anyone had heard. I listened. I heard nothing but the rustle of wind in the trees. Then I began to make out the sound of voices inside.
I moved toward them and a faint glow became visible. At first I thought it might be a lantern, but then when it did not move I realized it was a window. As I got closer the blur resolved itself into a square, and then, when I came up close, I could see in.
Tybalt sat with his back to the window, almost exactly as he had in the inn that first night. He leaned back, one foot on the table. The only difference was that he did not hold the wrist of a beguiled young girl. It was a woman whose wrist he held, a middle aged woman, and not at all a pleased one. She jerked her arm away and thrust a bowl in his face.
“Thank you, Cook,” said Tybalt. “This is the most unappetizing slop I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“What do you expect?” she snapped back. “This is the last night, and I ain’t been paid yet.”
“You will be, you will be.”
“When?”
“Tonight, if Mother can squeeze it out of Hugo for me.”
“Bah!” said the cook, and she left.
There were three other men in the room. They were seated around the table, each with a bowl. One of the men looked dismally into his own.
“Maybe we oughta take up a collection,” he said. “If cook doesn’t get paid, I don’t think I can take it.”
“What about that money, Stenbau?” said another.
“Hugo is just an old penny pincher,” said Tybalt. “For all his money, he thinks this matter has cost him too much, but he’ll come around. He hasn’t much choice, and I’ve set Mother on him.”
“But then she’ll keep it,” protested the first man.
“Hugo knows better than to give...,” began Tybalt.
Outside, from the direction of the road, I heard a shrill whistle. Immediately there was a loud knocking at the front door. The men in the room jumped to their feet.
It must have been the signal from the gatepost lookout. I knew the marquis would hurry, but I did not think even he could be that quick. Then two more whistles sounded and another knock at the door, this time accompanied by a voice.
“Karl says it’s all right.”
“Hugo,” said Tybalt. “I thought he might come. We’ll get our money yet, boys. And Cook. Just leave it to me.”
By now I could hear the carriage approach. This was a better carriage, there was no squeak of springs, and the wheels ground smoothly on the gravel. I moved around to the front and closer to the door. The lantern of the guard made a milky circle of light. I realized that they could not see out of it, and I moved closer. I could make out the blurry shapes of the carriage and the horses. The guard went to get the door and I was sure that the man who got out was Hugo, but I could not tell who the second man was. Tybalt came from the house. I recognized him by his movement.
“Uncle, what are you doing here?” he said.
“We’ve come to see that all goes well,” said Hugo.
“Is that Sigmond?” Tybalt said, slightly alarmed.
“Yes, it is,” said Hugo.
“You fool! Sigmond! You were supposed to be leading them astray.”
“I put someone else on that,” said Hugo.
“Hah!” said Tybalt. “What if you were followed?”
“We were not.”
“Well, the fog may be a saving grace,” said Tybalt reluctantly. He paused. “You two seem to be getting on awfully well.”
“We are,” said Sigmond in a husky voice.
“Come in then,” said Tybalt, impatiently. When they were in the house he turned to the door guard. “Get a horse and ride up and down the road. I want to be sure they weren’t followed. And tell Karl to keep his eyes open, and his ears.” The man dashed for the stable, but Tybalt still did not go into the house. He pointed to the coachman.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Max,” said the man. “I always drive for his Highness.”
“Max Hellman? Ah, yes. All right then. See about your business.”
Tybalt was being cautious. I would have to be careful. I hoped the marquis would be careful as well. I slipped back around the corner as the coachman took a lantern to guide his way past me.
Back at the window I saw Hugo and Sigmond were now in that room. Tybalt entered, and with a quick gesture, dismissed his men. Sigmond sat on the couch and brooded at the ceiling, looking in the general direction of the lady’s room. Hugo turned quickly to Tybalt as soon as the guards left.
“How will the fog affect your trip?” he asked. “Can you get through the mountains in it?”
“The fog? No, I can handle the fog,” said Tybalt. “It’s another problem that might stall us tonight. The same old problem, as a matter of fact.”
“I’ve paid you too much already,” snapped Hugo.
“You’ve paid me, true,” said Tybalt, “but you haven’t paid the people in this house anything. They aren’t feeling very cooperative. They don’t think you’ll pay them at all.”
“Pay then from what I’ve given you. You employed them.”
“No, Uncle. You employed them. And I’ve had expenses. I need more money. We want it now, or the lady goes nowhere.”
“Perhaps that’s a good idea,” said Hugo, taking Tybalt’s arm and drawing him away from Sigmond. Sigmond ignored them and continued to scowl upward. They came to the window, so I pulled back. “I’ve almost got Sigmond to our way of thinking. Give me a little more time and we’ll have a quick end to this problem.”
“It’ll cost you just the same,” said Tybalt with a shrug. “We’ve already made arrangements to get her out of the country, and we need all the money promised us. Dead or alive, the lady will cost you.”
“You think I carry that sort of money on my person?”
“I know you’re carrying something.” Tybalt leaned his elbow casually on the sill. “That’s why you’re here. Mother has been worrying you all day about paying me. I set her to it.”
“I know you did.”
“You must have brought something. Look, I’m willing to wait a little longer, but the others....”
I left the window. It sounded as if this discussion might delay them a while. I was a little worried, though, that Hugo said he had got Sigmond on their side. Did that mean they would kill her? Hugo seemed to prefer it as a quicker and simpler solution. The fact that Tybalt wanted more money, however, might save her life until the marquis got there.
I thought it was time to see the woman myself. I moved cautiously through the fog. Now it was dark and I could see nothing at all. Every step seemed into a deep chasm. I kept my fingertips on the wall to guide me. It took a long time, but eventually I had worked my way around to the corner where the two wings met. I looked up and saw the glow of a window. The light was enough to show the form of the tree which grew there.
It was a big old tree, with rough bark and many branches. I felt it over, looking for a branch low enough to climb on. I had to stand on my toes to find the lowest one. I could not get a grip on it from the ground. I would have to shinny up the trunk, and that was not easy, not with boots on. I had to take them off.
The grass was cold and wet on my feet. I stood on one foot then the other while I reached for a grip on the bark with my hands. It was rough bark, good for climbing, but the edges were moist with mold. My fingers held well enough, dug deep in the crevices, but my feet slipped at first, skinned and stinging in the late night air.
I made it to the branch and swung up on it. I paused a moment to tuck my toes into the crook of my knee to warm them up. If the tree were not so wet I would be fine.
Another branch loom
ed over head, standing out against the lights above as if just hanging there, attached to nothing. I felt up the trunk and found a crook of that branch.
I pulled myself up, branch by branch. It was easy, once I was high enough. There were many branches, and the light made my progress easier as I got closer to it.
One branch slanted up, over the window I was aiming for. I sidled along it, holding onto another branch to steady myself. There was a woman’s form behind the window. She was pacing. I moved closer and squinted. It looked like her. I ran my hand along the branch, looking for a twig to break off and throw at the window.
I found an acorn. I tossed it. It hit, but there was no reaction from within the room. I wiggled my toes for warmth and reached into my pocket for a coin, a horseshoe nail, anything. Then at last the window opened.
“Mrs. MacGuffin?” I asked.
“Who’s there?” she replied apprehensively. It was her.
“A friend,” I said. “Help is on the way.
I reached for the window sash and swung myself into her room. It was a graceful move, except that my feet were so wet and numb that I slipped right past the sill and landed on my seat in the room.
The woman stepped back, looking alarmed, but then she recognized me, and she stepped forward again to help me up.
“Mrs. MacGuffin?” I asked again.
“No, that is my professional name,” she said. “I am Mrs....Duchess von Kirsau,” she said. She was pale, but her fear seemed mixed with anger. Severe anger, I thought, as she spoke again, hitting each word with intensity. “I am married to him.”
“Duke Sigmond?” I said. Of course, that made sense of it. That was why Sigmond had been unwilling to have her killed. That was why Tybalt had burned down the church—he was after the church records, the record of the marriage. “Then you don’t have anything to do with the death of Bishop Rank?”
“The Bishop was our friend. His friend,” she said. “He married us.”
“Oh!” I said.
“I never wanted to keep it a secret. I told him we should be open, but he was afraid of his father, the coward.”
“And that’s what you had to tell the queen, that Sigmond was married to you?”
“Yes, tell the queen,” she whispered, leaning close, even though her powerful whisper was easy to hear. “Tell her that he is my husband. Go now. Tell everyone.”
“No fear, madame,” I said. “Help is on the way. You can tell everyone yourself.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. They can kill me, but he won’t marry her. Not if you tell her. Tell everyone. Be sure they all know. Disgrace him.” She did seem to care, in a strange, stubborn way. It was almost as if she wanted to stay and be murdered, as if that would somehow spite them more. But perhaps that was because she had given up hope.
“The Marquis von Furlenhaur knows you are here,” I told her, “and he knows about how many men they have and where their sentry is. He won’t fail! You can escape.”
“They will kill me before he gets here. Hugo always gets his way.”
That’s what I was worried about, but I did not want to say so. Still, I was not quite sure what to do about it. I looked around. The door would be locked, and maybe even guarded. But if it was guarded, wouldn’t the guard have heard us before now? I went and tried the lock. It was locked.
“That’s no use,” said the lady.
“You’ll have to climb out the window,” I said.
She looked up at me and tilted her head, a bit of cunning awakening in her eyes. She went to the window and looked out.
“If I were a boy like you,” she said. “I might be able to, but....”
“I’m not a boy,” I said.
“No,” she said, turning to smile at me. “No, you are the only one who has helped me. That makes a man out of you.”
All right. It was time to shock her into reality.
“I’m a girl,” I said. “I’m just dressed like a boy.”
“Ah!” She was not shocked. The cunning in her eyes overcame the resignation. “Then I don’t need to be a man, I just need the clothes of a man. Then I could climb down and run through the woods like a deer!”
“Yes,” I said. “Only we don’t have any men’s clothes, so you are just going to have to do it as you are.”
“In these skirts?” she said. “I’d break my neck.”
I looked down at her skirts. If it had been me, I’d have tried climbing down, petticoats and all, but I saw her point. I did not know how agile she was, and she probably was not as practiced as I was at climbing trees.
“Well, then, where can I get you some trousers?”
“That is simple,” she said. “This is Hugo’s hunting lodge. Several gentlemen keep clothing here.” She gestured toward the wall, at the room next door. “Prince Hugo and my husband both have rooms here.”
I leaned out the window to look. I could not see much through the fog, but I did not think the branches reached to the windows next door.
“I don’t think I can get to those rooms,” I said. She leaned out the window and looked. Then she pointed down toward the older part of the building. I squinted through the fog but I could not see beyond the nearer branches of the tree.
“Down there,” she said. “The game keeper has rooms down there. And that young villain sleeps there too. Yes, his clothing should fit me best, you must get some of Tybalt’s clothes.”
I thought that Tybalt’s clothes would probably be too narrow in the hips for her, but I did not say so. Some loose, sturdy gamekeeper’s trousers though...they would do nicely.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said. “If the windows are locked, I’ll look in the stables.”
She turned suddenly, as if she had heard something. “Go! They’re coming!”
“Don’t worry,” I whispered as I climbed back out the window. It would be harder getting out than going in. I would have to jump. I saw what she meant about not being able to do it in a skirt. To do it in trousers was bad enough. I could hear them coming, though, so I jumped and caught the branch. I struggled onto it and slid back down to the trunk. I heard voices in her room, and in a moment Hugo leaned out the window.
“I can’t see anything,” he said. “She was talking to herself again.”
“Stay away from me, you traitor!” hissed the woman.
Hugo closed the window and I slowly climbed back down. I dropped to the ground and rubbed my numb feet. It was hard to get my boots back on because my feet were so wet. I wrestled for a while, finally got them on, and stood up. I listened. They were arguing again upstairs. The voices ended with the sound of a door shutting. I heard her voice as the door closed, so they had not killed her yet. Now all was silent.
The fog and darkness were still too dense to see much. I put my hand on the wall and followed it to the place she had pointed out. None of the windows had a light behind them. Still, someone might be sleeping in one of the rooms. There was even a chance that Tybalt would be napping in preparation for the trip through the mountains.
Well, I was not going to get anywhere just standing and dithering. I carefully tried the first window. It would not budge. The next would not either. They may have been locked, but I think they were stuck as well. I moved to the third window, and found that it wiggled a little. I fiddled with it for a few minutes, and made no progress at all.
Hugo’s words kept going through my mind. A quick end to this. We did not have time. Maybe I should try the kitchen.
One look through the kitchen window showed me the cook and one man were in there guarding it. I should have known that Tybalt would either lock the door, or have it guarded. I put my hand on the door, just to check. It was locked. So it did not even matter if I could somehow distract the people inside. I could not get in.
She would just have to climb down, skirts and all. If she slipped, she would break an arm or leg,
and then we would be in big trouble, especially if she screamed. Maybe the marquis would come. I listened for the sound of hoofbeats. None.
Then I noticed the little window. It was beside the kitchen, high in the wall, too small for a man to get through. Maybe it would not be locked. There was a trellis that went up and around it; a rose trellis. I wished it had been a nice vine, or a rain barrel, but the roses were not thick, and my climb was only a foot or two. All I really needed was a boost.
I jumped up on the trellis, and pulled at the window. It opened easily. The opening was narrow, but I had more trouble unsnagging my clothes from the rose bush than getting through it. The room inside was small, but just a little light was coming in under the door. I was on top of a cabinet. As I climbed down, I noticed a silver soup tureen, and several platters. I was in the butler’s pantry. That meant the only door would lead to the kitchen. Well, there was always a chance that the cook would leave.
I put my ear against the door. I heard their voices, and people walking around. Then I thought I heard the door, and the voices stopped. I decided to wait just a bit to see if I heard anything more. I was beginning to think the marquis would get here long before I could do anything. It would be hard to find this place in the fog, however, and the marquis had to do it without alerting them. And if he did alert them, who could say what they might do to the woman before he got here? Yes, I did have to get her out of that room if I could.
Suddenly I realized that the butler would have keys to everything. He always did. Where would the keys be? Either on the butler’s person, or in his pantry somewhere. I looked around, and I did not see any obvious place. Our butler kept them on the wall, behind the door. I looked at the space behind the door. There were a couple of coats and aprons hanging there, but through the darkness, I thought I could see something square behind them. I moved quietly closer, and pushed one of the coats aside. Something jingled. It was the key board.
I removed the coats and looked. It was a small peg board with several keys hanging on it. The only problem was that the pegs were not labelled in any way that would help me. I did not know what they called the room she was locked in. It certainly was not the master bedroom, so I could eliminate the peg marked “master.” It was probably one that belonged on one of the empty pegs. Tybalt would keep the key on him.
I sighed and squatted down to look under the door. They seemed to be gone. I listened for a bit to be sure. I also kept thinking about those keys. If I had thought there was a chance the right key was there, I would have taken them all. It would be useful to have a huge ring of keys, like my father’s butler. Not only could I open any door in the house, but I could knock someone over the head with it if I got desperate. It would be best, though, to have just one key that fit everything, like Aunt Elfie’s butler....
A master key!
I jumped up and scrambled for the board. Master. It might mean the “master” bedroom, but I did not think so. It was a master key. Now we would not have to climb out the window.
As a matter of fact, we would not even have to escape. A plan popped into my head. We would rip a bit of fabric out of her skirts and leave it snagged on a branch. We might even tie a sheet to the branch, as if we had used it for a rope, and we would leave the window open. It would look like she escaped out the window. Then we would sneak out of the room, locking the door behind us, and hide in another room, under the bed, until the marquis came. It was perfect! And it was much less risky than most of my plans.
Still, if we were going to sneak around, I needed to get a better idea of the layout of the house. That is what I told myself, anyway. What I really wanted was to avoid climbing up that tree again. Not only was my knee throbbing, but my feet still stung where the bark had skinned them.
I slipped out of the pantry. The kitchen was empty, but I froze when I saw that there was a light in a room opposite. It was probably the cook’s sitting room. I could not see anyone in there, so whoever it was could not see me. I crept quietly to the door, and slipped out into the hall. I stuck my master key into the kitchen door, and found I could lock it. I almost kept it locked, so whoever was in there could not follow me, but I realized that was a mistake. I did not want to arouse their suspicions. It was an idea to keep for later, though. If we had to run, I could lock doors between us and our pursuers.
There was no one watching the back stairs. They creaked, though. I stopped after two steps and listened to see if anyone was coming. I heard nothing, so I went the rest of the way up, treading only on the farthest edge of each step, where it was against the wall. Usually that is the quietest part of a squeaky step. It didn’t help much with these. Still, nobody was waiting for me at the top, and I did not hear anyone behind me.
I opened the door at the third floor landing just a tiny bit. The hall was dark, but I could see well enough to tell there was no one in it. I stepped out quietly, and I was happy to find that the floor did not creak badly here. I kept close to the wall and moved along as quickly as I could. I was in the old part of the building, and the lady’s room was around the corner, in the new part. My only problem was that I had to cross the landing of the main stairs. There might be a guard on it, although he would be expecting an attack from below, not above. I crouched as I approached and looked down the stairs. There was, indeed, a man sitting on the middle step. He was looking down, but one creak of one board, and he would look up. I got down on hands and knees, and my knee gave me a painful twinge. I sat instead. I slowly scooted across the floor, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. I tested each board with my hands, and I did not make any creaks that were louder than the settling of the house. Once past the stairs, I peeked around the corner and saw no one in the hall. I was right, they were expecting the enemy only from below. I had the feeling Tybalt would not approve, but he could not be everywhere.
I got up and went as quickly as possible to the door. I do not know why I reached out to try the knob before I pulled the key from my pocket. I suppose it was habit. I felt foolish when I discovered it was locked, as I already knew. I reached into my pocket and a hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.
“Why, Pipsqueak, you do get around.”
I looked up to see that Tybalt could indeed be everywhere.
The Adventure of Anna the Great Page 16