by Clara Benson
‘Augustus Welland,’ he said, introducing himself. The English master was tall and handsome, and evidently very pleased with the fact. He shook back the long lock of hair that fell carelessly over his forehead, and began to talk. Within a very few seconds it became clear that Mr. Welland’s chief interest in life was Mr. Welland. Every question he asked Mrs. Marchmont was used merely as a spur from which to introduce some anecdote of his own about himself. Occasionally, he diverged into observations about the wider world, but always he returned to his favourite topic. Within ten minutes, Angela had heard his views upon literature, art, foreign travel (he had recently visited Russia and had many things to say on developments in that country), the Plight of the Working Man, and the trial of the carpenter in Dagenham who murdered all three of his wives and made their coffins himself—all with regard to the way in which they affected him personally. He was just launching into an impassioned diatribe against the professor at his old university who had failed to recognize his genius and award him a double first, when Miss Bell came to the rescue, somewhat to Angela’s relief.
She then spoke briefly to Mr. Hesketh, whose demeanour was as bland as ever and gave no clue as to his real identity or purpose in coming to the school.
‘I think the only person you have not yet met is Miss Fazackerley, our Mathematics teacher,’ said Miss Bell. ‘Barbara no longer has lessons with her, as she and some of the other brighter girls are at present receiving special tuition from me until we can find a suitable teacher—’ she looked around. ‘Oh, I’m sure she was here a moment ago.’
Angela remembered having seen a lumpish-looking woman with untidy hair and a morose expression, but could not see her now.
‘She went out a few minutes ago,’ said Mlle. Delacroix.
‘Oh dear,’ said Miss Bell. ‘Then you shall meet her later, Mrs. Marchmont. Mam’selle, will you please show our guest up to her room?’
‘Certainly,’ said Mam’selle, and stood back politely to let Angela go first. As they left the room, Mr. Hesketh caught Angela’s eye then looked away quickly.
The guest-room was a small one, comfortably furnished and with a pretty flowered bedspread and cushion covers which had presumably been made by the girls. Its little window looked out towards one edge of the lake and the tennis courts. Beyond that was a small summer-house and a little way off to one side were some outbuildings.
‘It’s very pleasant,’ said Angela.
‘Yes,’ said Mam’selle. ‘It is not a bad place. English girls are quite impossible, of course, but I am used to them and don’t mind them.’
‘Have you lived in England long?’ said Angela.
‘Seven years,’ said Mam’selle. ‘Although I have been at this school only a year. Before that I was at a school in Yorkshire.’
‘Forgive me,’ said Angela, ‘but you don’t look much like a teacher.’
‘No,’ admitted the other. ‘It was not what was planned for me. My family wanted me to marry a man who was very rich but much older than I, and for a while I believed I could do it.’
‘But you preferred teaching?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Mam’selle. ‘I merely decided that I did not wish to marry, so instead of coming to the church I ran away to England.’
‘What, on your wedding day?’ said Angela, taken aback.
‘Yes,’ said Mam’selle.
‘But what did your family say about it?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Mam’selle with a shrug. ‘I have never spoken to them since. Perhaps they are still there at the church, waiting.’
Evidently there was much more to the story than Mam’selle had told, but it would have been rude to inquire, and so Angela remained silent. The French mistress said that she would leave Mrs. Marchmont to arrange herself, and that she must ask if she wanted anything, and then left.
Angela stood by the window looking out at the grounds, and thought that a girls’ school seemed a very unlikely place for international intrigue—although, of course, anyone with wicked intentions would hardly go around proclaiming it publicly. Still, the place was peaceful enough at present. She spent a few minutes considering how best to approach her task, and decided to abide by her original plan, which had been to get an introduction to the Princess through Barbara, and see what she could find out from her. It suddenly struck her that Henry Jameson had not said whether or not Princess Irina was aware that a man had been placed at the school for her protection. Did she know about Mr. Hesketh? And, moreover, was Angela permitted to tell Irina that she had also been sent to investigate? Angela did not know, but it was clear that the only way to find out was to speak to Mr. Hesketh, and she resolved to do that as soon as possible.
Dinner would not be for a little while yet, and Miss Bell had invited her to make free of the place and take a stroll around the grounds if she liked, so Angela went downstairs and, after getting lost once or twice, finally found herself in the entrance-hall and went out through the open door. She walked along under the portico and back through another arch, and found herself in the Quad, a lawned courtyard with paths that ran diagonally across from each corner to meet a stone fountain in the centre. Another portico ran all the way around it, and at the edge of the grass stone benches were placed, on which girls might sit and reflect quietly on the beautiful surroundings should they so desire—although given the noise that usually echoed around the walls, it was doubtful whether the benches were ever put to their intended use. The Gothic style was more evident here and the portico made Angela think of cloisters in a convent or a monastery. She half-expected to see nuns walking about the place in pairs, but instead there were only one or two girls in blue and brown tunics, hurrying from one part of the school to another.
After admiring the building for some time, Angela turned and left the Quad the way she had come. As she emerged onto the lawn she was not entirely surprised to see Mr. Hesketh hovering some little distance away. He glanced about as she approached him.
‘I take it you wish to speak to me,’ said Angela.
‘If you don’t mind,’ he said.
‘Where can we go so as not to be overheard?’
‘I think we had better remain in the open and make it look as though I am showing you around the place,’ said Hesketh. ‘I always find that skulking furtively in corners tends to attract attention, especially in a place such as this,’ he explained with a smile.
‘I imagine it does,’ said Angela. ‘Then suppose you show me how delightful and harmonious the school building looks from the lake.’
‘It is a nice building, isn’t it?’ said Hesketh as they walked. ‘I rather like it myself. It reminds me of my old school, although I haven’t been back to the place in some years.’
They stopped close to the lake and turned back, apparently engaged in gazing at the building.
‘So, then, I gather you have been stationed here to protect Princess Irina,’ said Angela. ‘Teaching at a girls’ school must be a quiet life for an Intelligence man.’
‘A quiet life, do you call it?’ he said. ‘I take it you have never taught.’
‘No,’ admitted Angela.
‘Then believe me when I say that I am finding the work quite as lively as anything I have done up to now,’ he said with some feeling.
Angela laughed, and he immediately retreated behind his bland manner once again.
‘Yes, Mrs. Marchmont,’ he continued, ‘I have been sent here to keep an eye on things—as, I gather, have you.’
‘I have,’ she replied. ‘Mr. Jameson seemed to think I should be able to find out more from the girls than you can, but I’m not entirely sure what it is I’m supposed to be looking for.’
‘I’m not certain myself,’ said Hesketh. ‘Of course, the most obvious thing is the arrival of any suspicious strangers in the area. My lodgings are in the village, which is about half a mile away, and I have been most fortunate in my landlady, who is a gossip of the highest order and can be relied upon absolutely to report the arriv
al of anybody new or mysterious—the more mysterious the better, in fact, for she appears to subsist on a diet of penny-dreadfuls and is generally inclined to see spies and murderers wherever she looks. She is also friends with the cook at the school, and quite frequently knows more about what is going on than I do.’
‘Goodness,’ said Angela. ‘I wonder they bothered sending you at all when they might have recruited her instead.’
‘The thought had occurred to me,’ he said. ‘Still, she is not “on the spot,” as I am, and so cannot see everything. Of course, you will have realized, Mrs. Marchmont, that the difficulty is not so much the presence of mysterious strangers, as the possibility that someone at the school may be working on behalf of Princess Irina’s enemies.’
‘Do you think that is the case, then?’
‘I can’t say for certain,’ he said. ‘As you have seen for yourself, everything here seems pretty quiet and the teachers above suspicion, and yet my nose tells me that something is afoot. I only wish I knew what it was, but I have the impression that somebody is hiding something. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, but the last time I had this feeling, the President of a certain country was shortly afterwards deposed and disposed of.’
‘Do you suspect one of the teachers? Or perhaps a servant?’ said Angela.
He nodded.
‘Yes, I think it must be one of the staff,’ he replied. ‘Miss Bell, who of course knows who I am, has given me as much information as she could about the people who work here, but so far we haven’t come up with anything useful. There is one gardener who started here recently about whom we know very little, but Miss Bell assures me that he came with impeccable references.’
‘Does Miss Bell take the threat seriously?’
‘As seriously as a woman of her type can,’ he said, considering. ‘I suspect she thinks the whole thing is rather exaggerated. Still, she has promised to keep it quiet.’
‘Does the Princess know who you are?’ said Angela.
‘Yes,’ said Hesketh. ‘She knows of the threat to her, and that I am here to protect her.’
‘You can’t protect her all the time, though, if you’re living in the village,’ said Angela.
‘No,’ he said, ‘and that’s the worst of it. I am not strictly permitted to be in the building after seven o’clock. I should, of course, ignore the rules if necessary, but how am I to know when it is necessary? If there were to be an attempt on Princess Irina in the middle of the night, for example, then I should be quite useless in a house half a mile away. It is most unsatisfactory.’
Something in his tone suggested to Angela that there had been a little disagreement with Miss Bell on this matter.
‘Well, I am staying at the school for the next three nights, so I shall do what I can,’ she said.
‘Yes, and I am glad of it,’ said Hesketh, ‘because the whole thing makes me very uncomfortable.’ He coughed and glanced about. ‘Jameson said he advised you to bring a gun,’ he said quietly.
‘He did,’ replied Angela. ‘And I have. Not that I expect I’ll need it. As a matter of fact, I rather hope I don’t. It doesn’t do to be waving guns around in a school full of easily excitable girls.’
‘That’s true enough,’ he said. ‘Still, I suggest you keep it with you as much as you can.’
‘I shall,’ Angela assured him.
SEVEN
Dinner was early at Wakeley Court, and Angela sat at the top table with the teachers and renewed her acquaintance with the peculiarities of school food. Afterwards, the girls were free until bed-time, provided they had done their prep, and as the great dining-room emptied Barbara rushed across to Angela and grabbed her arm.
‘Come and meet my pals,’ she said.
They walked around the building and passed William, who was under the bonnet of the Bentley and had attracted followers in the form of two of the smaller girls, identical twins, who were holding spanners and rags for him and asking him questions. They seemed fascinated by what he had to say.
‘They’re waiting for us in the Quad,’ said Barbara.
Sure enough, in the Quad they found a small group of girls sitting on one of the stone benches.
‘Where are the others?’ said Barbara.
‘Doing their Geography prep,’ said Violet Smedley. ‘They didn’t finish it before dinner because they went to play tennis.’
‘Rotten of them,’ said Barbara. ‘Oh, well. This is my godmother, Angela Marchmont,’ she went on, waving a hand carelessly. ‘I told you all about her. Angela—Violet Smedley, Florrie Evans, Irina Ivanovitch.’
‘It’s Ivanoveti,’ said Florrie before Irina could speak.
‘Sorry,’ said Barbara.
Angela regarded Irina with covert interest. The Princess was tall and dark and looked rather older than her years. Her manner was self-contained—sullen, even, although she was polite enough and replied to Angela’s pleasantries in careful English. She had a slightly wary look about her—no bad thing, Angela supposed, and only to be expected if she knew her life was in danger.
Barbara suggested they take a walk around the building. They could not go far, she said, as it was getting dark and soon they would have to go inside. Barbara walked on one side of Angela and Violet on the other, and Angela was pleased to find that Violet seemed a very nice girl, if a little staid, and had excellent manners. Florrie and Irina followed behind.
As they completed their circuit of the building they saw William again. The twins were still there with him, peering into the engine with great interest.
‘Hallo, William,’ said Barbara grandly. ‘Are these kids bothering you?’
‘Not at all,’ he replied. ‘As a matter of fact, they’re being very helpful.’
‘He’s been showing us how to fix it,’ said one twin, a girl of about eleven, who appeared to have smeared oil all over her face in her excitement.
‘So I see,’ said Barbara. ‘You’ll be in for it when Matron sees you. You’d better go back and wash. You’re filthy.’
‘You’re a fine one to talk,’ said the girl boldly. ‘You’ve got ink all over your hands and some on your nose, too.’
Before Barbara could tell her off, a bell rang for early bed-time, and the two younger girls ran away, laughing.
‘Well!’ said Barbara. ‘Just wait until I see her again. It’s simply not done to cheek a bigger girl.’
‘You do it yourself all the time,’ Florrie pointed out.
‘That’s different,’ said Barbara. ‘I say, though, it must be useful being a twin, don’t you think? I mean to say, they can do one another’s detentions. I wish I had someone who could pretend to be me when I needed it.’
‘Yes, but what if one of you was very very good and the other was very very bad?’ said Florrie. ‘It seems rather unfair on the good twin to have to take the bad twin’s punishments.’
‘Oh, I dare say some agreement might be reached,’ said Barbara vaguely. ‘A financial agreement, I mean.’
Angela happened to glance at Irina while this exchange was going on, and to her utter astonishment saw that the girl was regarding William from under her eyelashes in a way that was quite unmistakable. William had evidently seen it too, for a touch of pink tinged his cheeks and he did not seem to know where to look. In the end he settled for staring at the ground.
‘We’d better go back in,’ said Violet at last. ‘It’s nearly dark and we don’t want to get a black mark from Miss Finch.’
Barbara snorted but did not argue, and the girls moved off. Angela remained behind for a moment with William.
‘Keep an eye on the new gardener,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t know his name.’
‘It’s Edwards, ma’am,’ said William.
‘Goodness, that was fast work!’ said Angela. ‘We’ve only been here three hours.’
‘The kitchen-maids were talking about him. They don’t like him much,’ said William.
‘Why not?’
‘He stares at them through the wind
ow when they’re working,’ he said. ‘And he doesn’t talk to anyone.’
‘Hmm,’ said Angela. ‘I wonder if Edwards is his real name, or even if he’s English. You might try and get him in conversation, and see if you can find out.’
‘Certainly, ma’am,’ said William. He looked about him. ‘Funny—it’s difficult to think of something happening in this out-of-the-way place. And I haven’t seen anyone yet who looks at all like a princess. I wonder which one she is.’
‘You’ve just met her,’ said Angela. ‘She’s the tall girl with the dark hair who was here with Barbara just now.’
William’s face was such a picture that Angela had to turn away and bite her lip hard to avoid laughing out loud.
‘Yes,’ she went on, once she had regained command of herself. ‘She is Princess Irina, the only daughter of Grand Duke Feodor of Morania, and first in line to the throne of that country. Rather an interesting young lady, don’t you think?’
‘I’ll say,’ was all William could manage.
Angela went on, ‘Girls from these foreign countries grow up rather more quickly than English ones, I understand.’
‘Is that so?’ said William, recovering himself.
‘Yes,’ said Angela. She paused. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to remind you to be very careful, William,’ she said lightly. ‘There is more than one kind of danger.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ said William.
‘Now, don’t forget to see what you can find out about Edwards.’
‘No, ma’am,’ said William.
Angela bade him goodnight and walked off, leaving William staring at the Bentley and rubbing his head in some perplexity.
Friday morning was spent in discussing formal arrangements for the Mathematics scholarship with Miss Bell and three of the trustees, worthy-looking gentleman to a man, and with conversation to match. At lunch-time Angela was set free, much to her relief, and went to the dining-room to endure more of the school’s hearty fare.
In the afternoon, Miss Bell insisted on escorting her around the school to see the girls at work. Angela was taken to see the Fifth Form as they received a Classics lesson from the stern Miss Finch. The class was quiet and studious—Miss Finch evidently had no trouble in keeping order—and Miss Bell nodded approvingly. Irina and Florrie looked up and smiled when they saw Angela, who was slightly surprised, for she had assumed they were in the Fourth with Barbara. Then she remembered that Henry Jameson had spoken of Irina as being almost sixteen—which perhaps went some way to explaining the girl’s apparent maturity in other respects.