by Clara Benson
She shut the door.
Violet was quite pink in the face.
‘Childish nonsense!’ she exclaimed. ‘Childish nonsense! Why, I’ve never been childish in my life!’
‘No, I expect you haven’t have you?’ said Barbara sympathetically. ‘Poor you.’
Violet glared at her.
‘What do you mean, “poor me?”’ she demanded.
‘Why, you’re always so sensible,’ explained Barbara. ‘It must be a terrible bore.’
‘Oh,’ said Violet, and paused. ‘But I like being sensible. That’s the way I’m made.’
‘And very nice you are too,’ said Barbara kindly. ‘It can’t be much fun, though, can it? I mean, always doing what you’re told, and sitting prettily with your hands folded, and nodding and smiling and not saying anything when guests come, and always having a clean handkerchief, and being patted on the head and told you’re a good girl. Why, I’ll bet you’ve never even climbed a tree.’
‘Of course I’ve never climbed a tree,’ said Violet. ‘I’d ruin my clothes.’
‘Exactly as I thought,’ said Barbara. ‘And what if you did ruin your clothes?’
‘Why, I’d get into trouble.’
‘But don’t you think it would be worth it for the fun you’d had climbing the tree?’
‘No,’ said Violet.
‘Oh,’ said Barbara, disconcerted. This possibility had not occurred to her.
There was a brief silence as the two girls contemplated their differences, then:
‘Do you really think I’m a bore?’ said Violet in a small voice.
‘Well, not a bore exactly,’ said Barbara. ‘Perhaps a little staid. Stuck in your ways. That sort of thing.’
‘But I’ve always had to be sensible,’ said Violet. ‘My family expect so much of me, you see. They’re tremendously proud of me. I couldn’t let them down.’
‘Nobody said you had to let them down,’ said Barbara. ‘But it’s not quite natural to be good all the time, don’t you think?’
Violet drew herself up. Miss Finch’s words had stung her, but she would not suffer being called unnatural and a bore.
‘All right, then,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Where to?’ said Barbara.
‘To find Florrie, of course,’ said Violet.
TWENTY
Despite Miss Finch’s apparent dismissal of the matter, the teachers were perfectly well aware that another girl had gone missing, although they had not discovered the fact until that afternoon. Miss Devlin had answered Barbara’s inquiry in a hurry, and indeed had had some vague notion herself that they were one short in the hockey, but it was not until the very end of the Games lesson that it finally dawned upon her that she had not seen Florrie Evans all day. On questioning, the rest of the Fifth swore they had not seen her since Saturday night, but all of them had assumed she had gone out with her people, as many of the girls did at weekends. Miss Devlin immediately went up to the Fifth Form dormitory and discovered that Florrie had left all her things behind, including her night-clothes and her purse with a little money in it. This was not conclusive evidence that she had not gone out with her family, of course, but it seemed odd that she should not have taken even a few shillings with her when she went.
On discovering the disappearance, Miss Devlin went white in the face, for she immediately assumed that she would be given the blame for it. She wrung her hands and ran along to Miss Bell’s study to announce the bad news and beg forgiveness. Miss Bell took the news in her stride—indeed, there was little that could make the situation worse than it was already—and told Miss Devlin to calm herself.
‘Do not worry, Miss Devlin,’ she said. ‘I shall telephone her people in London at once, and ask whether they have got her. I dare say we shall find out that they did take her out, but the fact of it was somehow missed in all the confusion over Irina.’
‘But then why hasn’t she come back today?’ said Miss Devlin. ‘Surely they would have let us know.’
‘One would have thought so, yes,’ said Miss Bell, ‘but let us see what they have to say.’
She picked up the receiver and asked to make a call to London.
‘There’s no reply,’ she said after a few minutes. ‘I shall try again later.’
They were interrupted just then by Mr. Hesketh and Angela Marchmont. Mr. Hesketh was looking harassed.
‘I suppose you have heard nothing,’ said Miss Bell.
Hesketh shook his head.
‘No,’ he said. ‘There’s still no sign of her.’
‘At least we ought to be thankful that they didn’t find anything in the lake,’ said Miss Bell.
‘I have handed Dick Fazackerley over to the police,’ said Hesketh. ‘They’ll keep him for a day or two, but it looks pretty much as though he had nothing to do with it.’
‘That is one good thing, then,’ said Miss Bell. ‘At least I shall not have the worry of being forced to ask Miss Fazackerley to resign. Where do the police intend to search next, Mr. Hesketh?’ she went on. ‘And is there any point to it? We know where she went, after all—out of the village. I don’t know why they thought they’d find her here at the school.’
‘They have to be thorough in their search,’ replied Hesketh. ‘And it’s always possible that Mrs. Marchmont and Miss Devlin were mistaken in what they thought they saw.’
‘That certainly is a possibility,’ said Angela. ‘In fact, that’s why I’m here. I understand another girl has gone missing, and it’s just occurred to me to wonder whether the girl we saw running off wasn’t Irina at all, but Florrie Evans. I’ve been trying to remember what she looked like, but of course it was dark and difficult to see clearly. What do you think, Miss Devlin?’
‘You think it might have been Florrie?’ said Miss Devlin in surprise. She paused to consider this new idea. ‘I certainly thought it was the Princess,’ she said after a moment. ‘The figure was tall and slim, like Irina, but of course that might have been a trick of the moonlight. Florrie is shorter, but the shadows may have made her look taller.’
‘Yes, that’s what I thought,’ said Angela. ‘I assumed it was Irina too, but that’s because we didn’t know anybody else had gone missing at the time.’
‘But that still leaves the question of why,’ said Miss Bell. ‘Although one might not think it from the appearances of these past few days, we do not encourage our pupils to run off with strange men in the middle of the night. Wakeley Court is not that sort of school.’
She spoke wearily, but with a certain residual pride.
‘Was Florrie unhappy at all?’ said Angela.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Miss Devlin. ‘But of course, girls don’t always tell anyone when they’re not happy. We do try and look out for signs of it, but if they’re determined to keep it to themselves then there’s not much we can do about it. She had friends, however, so she can’t have been feeling lonely.’
‘I wonder whether there was trouble at home,’ said Angela. ‘That sort of thing might make a girl run away.’
‘Still, if the figure you saw on the road was Florrie, then that means Irina might be anywhere,’ said Mr. Hesketh. ‘So it was not exactly a waste of time to drag the lake. Tomorrow I believe the police are going to search the woods, although they will also continue their inquiries along the coast and inland.’
‘This whole thing is becoming more and more mysterious,’ said Miss Devlin.
‘The most important thing is to find the Princess,’ said Mr. Hesketh. ‘Florrie must wait, I am afraid. I dare say we shall find out that her disappearance is some schoolgirl prank.’
‘I only hope you are right,’ said Miss Bell.
‘By the way, the Foreign Office has been told of what has happened,’ said Hesketh. ‘They are not especially happy, as you can probably imagine. And I understand that the Princess’s cousin, Count Paul, is also travelling here as fast as he can. He is expected tomorrow morning. I have heard one piece of good news, however, which i
s that Irina’s father, the Grand Duke, is much less gravely ill than had been initially reported. He is still very unwell, but he is no longer considered to be in danger.’
‘That is good news,’ said the headmistress. ‘Then I suppose one ought to be thankful that Morania still has one person to fill the throne. All we have to do now is find his daughter.’
Just then the telephone-bell rang. Miss Bell answered it.
‘It is the police,’ she said. ‘They want to speak to you, Mr. Hesketh.’
Hesketh took the receiver. He listened, and the expression on his face changed to one of astonishment.
‘Good Lord!’ he exclaimed. ‘Are you quite sure? But what—why, certainly. Yes, by all means, bring her here. We shall expect you shortly.’
He replaced the receiver and looked around at the three women. The joy and relief on his face was plain to see.
‘They’ve found the Princess,’ he said. ‘And she’s alive!’
TWENTY-ONE
There was little to tell about how Princess Irina had been found, for the police had had nothing to do with it. All they could say was that at about half past four that afternoon, a girl had walked into the police station in Percham and claimed to be the missing princess. A very few questions had proved her to be telling the truth, and there was great astonishment and a sudden flurry of activity on the part of the police when they realized what a momentous event had just occurred. They whisked the girl into a private room, gave her the most comfortable chair in the place and called a doctor, who came, examined Irina, peered into her eyes and at last announced that she was in good health, although he suspected she might have been previously drugged. He recommended that she be taken back to the school, given a good night’s sleep and questioned in the morning. This, however, was impossible, for it was vital that the police hear the Princess’s story immediately, since there were dangerous men at large and they must be caught quickly—and indeed Irina herself seemed willing enough to tell all she knew, although she said she would not speak until she was back at the school, for she would feel much safer if Mr. Everich were there.
The police agreed to this, and within an hour of Mr. Hesketh’s being informed of Irina’s reappearance, therefore, a police-car could be seen sweeping up the school drive, carrying its precious cargo, while the news swept through the building that Irina Ivanoveti had been found safe and well. She was hurried inside, looking pale and frightened but otherwise in good health, and given something to eat in the headmistress’s study. Meanwhile, telegrams were sent and received, and telephone-calls were made, and there was much muted jubilation on the part of all concerned. Of course, there was still the question of where the Princess had been hidden for the past two days, but that could wait. The most important thing was that she had been found alive and well, and everyone from Miss Bell and Mr. Hesketh at Wakeley Court to Henry Jameson and the Foreign Secretary in London could now breathe a sigh of relief at the thought of a diplomatic crisis narrowly averted.
While Irina ate, Mr. Everich, who had been overjoyed at the news of her return, hovered outside Miss Bell’s study, demanding repeatedly to speak to her. Mr. Hesketh had no intention of allowing Everich to see Irina alone, having been alerted by Angela to the Moranian Intelligence man’s suspicious behaviour, and he merely said that Mr. Everich would have the opportunity to speak to Her Highness later, once she had told the police everything she knew. However, in this he was thwarted by Irina herself, who insisted on her bodyguard’s being present during the questioning, and so Hesketh had no choice but to comply.
At last Irina announced that she was ready to tell what had happened, and so Sergeant Merrow began the gentle questioning while Hesketh, Everich, Angela and Miss Bell looked on and listened. The story she told was an extraordinary one. It appeared that late on Saturday evening, after her return from Percham, she had found a note in her school-bag which purported to be from Mr. Everich. According to the note, Everich had just discovered that one of the teachers had been placed at the school by the enemy, and that Irina’s life was in imminent danger if she did not come away with him immediately. He assured her that Count Paul had been informed of the matter and had agreed upon this as the best course of action, since they did not know the exact identity of the spy and thus the safest thing would be to spirit Her Highness away as quickly as possible before the teacher in question could be spurred on to act. The note said that Irina must speak to no-one about it, but must wait until Miss Bell was sound asleep, then take the headmistress’s keys, creep outside and meet Everich in the summer-house, whence they would make their escape.
Irina was surprised at the note, especially since she had spent the afternoon in the company of Mr. Everich and he had said nothing of this at the time, but it never once occurred to her that it might be a fake. Accordingly, therefore, she did as she was bid and crept out to the summer-house in the dead of night. When she arrived she found no-one there, but pinned to the door was another note which said that Everich had unfortunately been unable to meet her as planned, and that she should leave the school and go into the village, where she would find him waiting for her by the church.
Irina was just wondering whether or not to do as the note said when she heard voices and saw two people approaching with a torch. She immediately remembered the warning that she was in danger from one of the teachers, and was thrown into a panic, believing that they must be coming after her. The only thing she could think of to do at that moment was to go and hide in the bushes, so she did. She remained there in fear for several minutes while the newcomers searched the summer-house, and when they turned away to focus their attention on the outbuildings she saw her opportunity and ran for it along the path through the woods to the road. She could hear the two people hurrying after her, and this made her even more afraid. She ran as fast as she could until she reached the road, and then set off towards the village and the church, where she expected to meet Mr. Everich.
This part of the story ended here, however, for Irina could remember nothing of what had happened after that. The next thing she knew was that she was lying on a bed in a tiny room, without any idea of how she had got there, and that it was day-time. She tried to sit up but her head was aching, and so she gave it up until she saw that whoever had put her in the room had left her some water. She drank it and after a little while began to feel better. She got up and went to the door but found that it was locked.
‘Was there a window?’ said Sergeant Merrow.
‘Yes,’ said Irina. ‘It, too, was locked.’
‘What could you see from it?’
‘Nothing,’ said Irina. ‘Just a brick wall, and perhaps twenty feet below a little alley.’
‘Then you were upstairs. Did you have any idea where you might be?’
‘No,’ said Irina, shaking her head. ‘Only that we were not far from the sea.’
‘How do you know?’ said Hesketh.
‘I could hear the—how do you call them?—seagulls crying,’ said Irina.
‘I see,’ said Merrow. ‘What happened after that?’
‘I waited for a long time, but nobody came,’ said Irina. ‘After a while I began to get hungry and I wondered whether the people who had taken me planned to starve me to death. I was frightened, but then I heard the door rattle and a man came in with some food. He did not say anything but just put down the tray and went out before I could ask him why he had kidnapped me.’
‘Did you recognize the man?’ said Hesketh.
‘Not at first,’ said Irina. ‘But the afternoon was long and I began to think, and eventually I remembered that I knew him, although I did not know his name. He is a gardener here at the school—a great, ugly brute.’
‘Did you hear anything from elsewhere in the house?’ said Hesketh.
‘Yes,’ said Irina. ‘From time to time I could hear voices of men talking.’
‘How many men?’
‘Two, I think,’ said Irina, glancing over at Everich, who was regarding her with
a sympathetic smile.
‘Did you hear what they said?’
‘No. They were downstairs, and the sound was too muffled,’ said Irina. ‘Later, when it was getting dark, the same man brought me some more food but would not answer my questions when I spoke to him. I spent the whole of that night awake, wondering what was happening at school and whether I had been missed—and most of all, what was to become of me.’
Here she gave a little shudder.
‘You need not answer the questions now if you do not wish it,’ said Everich, but she shook her head.
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Now I am safe and not frightened any more. I will answer any questions you like.’
‘Good girl,’ said Mr. Hesketh approvingly. ‘Then please go on. What happened the next day?’
‘The man came in and brought me breakfast, but he still refused to speak to me,’ said the Princess. ‘I became a little angry then, and tried to run towards the door, but he blocked my way and pushed me down into a chair, and said in my language that I was not to go anywhere.’
‘Then he was Moranian?’ said Hesketh.
Irina hesitated.
‘I am not sure,’ she said. ‘He spoke with a strange accent. I think perhaps he might have been Krovodanian, but I cannot be certain of it.’
Here, Everich uttered an exclamation in his own language, then apologized.
‘I beg your pardon,’ he said. ‘This is the very thing from which we were trying to protect Her Highness, and it appears we failed completely.’
Irina again threw him a glance, and went on:
‘I sat in the same little room all yesterday, until the middle of the afternoon, I think. Everything was silent and it was very dull, but then suddenly I heard a knock at the door downstairs and the voices started again. I think it was the same two people as before—Edwards and another man. But this time they were not polite for long. I heard them raise their voices and it was obvious that they were arguing about what to do with me, although I could not hear exactly what was said. They shouted at one another for a few minutes, and then I heard a loud noise, like someone falling, and a gasp. Then I heard heavy footsteps, and the sound of the front door opening and closing, and after that there was silence.’