by Clara Benson
Angela suddenly realized that she was feeling cold, so she stood up, leaving her bench to the girls, and left the Quad through the arch. The first thing she saw was William’s young friends, the twins, laughing as they ran hand in hand across the lawn. She stopped dead and stared at them.
‘Oh, goodness me,’ she said, astounded, for the most extraordinary idea had just come into her head. ‘That can’t be right, can it? No, of course it can’t. Someone would have mentioned it by now, surely.’
But the idea had lodged itself firmly into her brain and would not go away, and so she forced herself to think through the thing slowly from the beginning. Yes—it would fit, of course it would! Some parts of the story were not clear to her, but the thing as a whole made perfect sense if looked at from this new angle. Of course, it meant that more than one person had been telling lies all along, but that was quite understandable in the circumstances. Could it really be true? The thing was quite extraordinary if it was, but certainly not so extraordinary as to be impossible. Poor Irina! It looked as though she had been betrayed by the very thing that was meant to protect her. How frightened she must have been! And still she was not safe.
Angela turned and ran back into the building. She must find Mr. Hesketh or Miss Bell immediately and ask them whether they knew anything, although she was almost certain they did not, for surely it would have come out by now. She went to Mr. Hesketh’s room and then to the staff common-room, but the Latin master was nowhere to be found and nobody could tell her where he was. Then she went to Miss Bell’s study. The headmistress was there, and greeted Mrs. Marchmont with a smile.
‘Ah, Mrs. Marchmont,’ she said. ‘I suppose you will be leaving us—’
‘Miss Bell, what exactly do you know about Princess Irina?’ said Angela abruptly, without waiting for her to finish.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Bell in some surprise.
Angela was about to go on when they were interrupted by Miss Bell’s secretary, who apologized profusely but said that His Excellency had arrived and wished to see the headmistress immediately. She was followed into the room by a young man of straight and stately bearing, who bowed his head to the two ladies and correctly identified the one in charge.
‘I am Count Paul of Vorgorod,’ he said to the headmistress. ‘And you are Miss Bell, yes?’
‘Oh, Your Excellency,’ said Miss Bell. ‘I am so glad you have arrived. You will, of course, have heard the good news that Her Highness has been found safe and well.’
‘I have indeed, just now,’ said Count Paul. ‘And I need not say that it is a profound relief to me to hear it. She was found last night, yes? I trust His Highness the Grand Duke has been informed?’
‘Naturally,’ said Miss Bell. ‘We sent a telegram at once.’
‘Good,’ said Count Paul. ‘Then the worry will be the less for him. He is still very sick, of course, and the recent concern over his daughter cannot have done him any good. I should like to speak to Her Highness as soon as possible, in private. She will no doubt be very anxious to hear news of her father.’
‘But of course,’ said Miss Bell. ‘She will be at breakfast now. Mr. Everich and Mr. Hesketh have been charged with keeping an eye on her at all times.’
‘Ah, yes, Everich,’ said Count Paul, in a manner which suggested that Mr. Everich was about to have a stiff time of it.
‘If you will come this way,’ said the headmistress.
The two of them swept out of the room before Angela could say a word, leaving her in a state of some perplexity. There was evidently no use in trying to speak to Miss Bell at present. Perhaps Mr. Hesketh would be more amenable to hearing what she had to say, if she could find him. Angela left the study, intending to follow the headmistress and her illustrious guest to the dining-room, but was immediately waylaid by Barbara, who had come to look for her.
‘Quick!’ hissed Barbara. ‘We’ve found Florrie, but she won’t come out!’
‘What?’ said Angela in astonishment.
‘Come on!’ said Barbara, tugging at Angela’s arm. ‘Before someone sees us.’
Angela needed no further prompting.
‘Where is she?’ she said, as they hurried along the passage.
‘We’ve put her in your room for now,’ said Barbara. ‘She’s been trapped in the attic since Saturday night and we had to get William to get her out. But she didn’t want to come out at first and waved a knife at us, so we had to spend ages persuading her. She won’t say anything and won’t come out of your room. She just keeps insisting she wants to speak to Mr. Hesketh. But he can’t leave Irina, can he? So she’ll just have to make do with you instead.’
‘Why was she in the attic?’
‘I don’t know, she won’t say. She’s being awfully odd,’ said Barbara.
They arrived at Angela’s room and Barbara knocked at the door three times then twice. Violet answered it.
‘Where’s Mr. Hesketh?’ she said.
‘He’s with Irina,’ said Barbara. ‘I could only find Angela.’
They entered and Angela saw Florrie sitting on the edge of the bed, looking pale and wary. She did not seem especially pleased to see the new arrival.
‘Mr. Hesketh can’t leave Irina,’ said Barbara, ‘so I brought you Angela. She’s working for Intelligence too.’
‘Is she?’ said Florrie in some surprise.
‘Yes, so you can speak to her instead,’ said Barbara.
Florrie shook her head.
‘I need to speak to Mr. Hesketh,’ she said stubbornly. ‘He’s the only one I can trust.’
‘You’re being awfully strange,’ said Barbara. ‘Why won’t you say anything?’
‘I think I know,’ said Angela.
Florrie looked up suddenly.
‘What do you know?’ she said.
‘Why, that you’re not who you say you are,’ said Angela. ‘I am right, aren’t I, Your Highness?’
TWENTY-FIVE
‘What?’ said Barbara and Violet together.
Angela had held her breath for a second after hazarding her wild supposition, but one look at Florrie told her she had hit the mark.
‘Don’t you think it’s about time you told your friends?’ she said.
‘What are you talking about?’ said Barbara.
‘You’re not a princess too, are you?’ said Violet to Florrie.
‘No,’ said Angela. ‘There’s just the one princess as far as I know, and this is she.’
‘You’ve got it all wrong, Angela,’ said Barbara. ‘This is Florrie Evans.’
But Florrie was looking at Angela.
‘How did you know?’ she said.
‘What? You don’t mean to say she’s right, do you?’ said Barbara. ‘You can’t be a princess. Why, look at you—you’re filthy!’
Florrie drew herself up.
‘I am a princess,’ she said proudly. ‘My name is Irina Florentyna Aleksandra Elena Ivanoveti of Morania.’
The girls stared.
‘But—’ said Barbara.
‘But—’ said Violet.
Despite herself, Florrie looked rather pleased with the effect she had created.
‘But you’re just a girl,’ said Barbara at last. ‘You drew a picture of Miss Devlin with a moustache in the back of my Geography book. You came up on the roof and threw eggs at Mr. Penkridge and I took the blame. Princesses don’t do that sort of thing.’
‘I know,’ said Florrie, a little sadly. ‘We don’t, as a rule. It was awfully sporting of you to say you threw the eggs. I shan’t forget it, I promise.’ She looked up at Mrs. Marchmont. ‘Has there been any news of my father?’ she said. ‘I’ve been worried sick about him. Is he—is he still alive?’
‘He is,’ said Angela. ‘As a matter of fact, I believe he is much better.’
Florrie clasped her hands together and looked as though she hardly dared believe it.
‘Are you quite sure?’ she said. ‘Mr. Hesketh said things looked very bad for him.’
&
nbsp; ‘I gather the situation is not as desperate as it first appeared,’ replied Angela. ‘He is very unwell at present, of course, but he is receiving the best of care and I understand he is expected to recover.’
Florrie burst into tears.
‘Oh! I’m so glad,’ was all she said, and had Angela had any lingering doubts about Florrie’s real identity, they were now dispelled. The girl they had thought was Irina had shown not the slightest interest in the Grand Duke’s fate when she returned, but Florrie’s first concern was her father.
‘But if you’re the Princess, then who is the other Irina?’ said Violet, while Florrie blew her nose on a dirty handkerchief and pulled herself together with an effort. ‘And why does everybody think she’s you?’
‘She was sent with me to protect me,’ said Florrie. ‘My father had the idea when he found out that someone was plotting against us. I was coming to school anyway, and British Intelligence knew about it, and about the threat, but Father wouldn’t let me go without additional protection, and so he sent her to pretend to be me, as a kind of decoy. Nobody knows who I am in Morania, you see, and if it happened to come out that I’d gone to school in England and anyone wanted to find me, then they’d think Natalia was me.’
‘Natalia? Is that her name?’ said Barbara. ‘But who is she?’
‘Natalia Everich,’ said Florrie. ‘She is Raul Everich’s wife.’
‘Ah!’ said Angela, as the other two exclaimed in surprise. That explained why the fake Irina had seemed so much older than her years: she was not a schoolgirl at all, but a grown woman. ‘But Florrie, who knew about all this? Miss Bell and Mr. Hesketh were not informed, I take it.’
‘No,’ said Florrie. ‘My father thought it better to tell as few people as possible, so only he and I, and my cousin Paul and the Everichs knew about it. If anyone else had known they’d have felt bound to keep a close eye on me, and then it would have been obvious who I was. And I wanted to be treated like a normal girl too, so I was happy enough to agree to it. The two of us started at Wakeley Court at the same time, but Natalia arrived by motor-car with an official escort from the British Government, while I came up on the train from London with a woman from the Moranian Embassy who didn’t know who I was—only that I was the daughter of someone high up in the Civil Service and was to be looked after.’
‘I say, it was rather brave of Irina to impersonate you,’ said Barbara. ‘Especially since it ended up in her being kidnapped. It’s just her good luck that they let her go when they might easily have killed her. She must have convinced them somehow that she wasn’t you.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Florrie, staring. ‘She wasn’t kidnapped, was she?’
‘Yes,’ said Barbara, ‘and that’s probably why nobody found you sooner—everyone was far too concerned with finding her because they thought she was the real Princess Irina. Nobody even noticed you were missing until yesterday. It’s a good thing Violet and I decided to start a search for you, or you might never have been found.’
‘But I don’t understand. Who took Natalia?’ said Florrie.
‘Edwards the gardener. Oh! Isn’t that funny?’ said Barbara, suddenly remembering. ‘I said he was a foreign spy, didn’t I? And you told me off for scaring Irina.’
Florrie said nothing, but there was a puzzled frown on her face.
‘So why were you in the attic?’ said Violet. ‘Did the kidnappers lock you in?’
‘Of course not,’ said Florrie. ‘I ran in there and the handle fell off, just as you saw.’
‘Is that when you were running away from them?’ said Barbara. ‘Did you and Irina go out together?’
‘Yes,’ said Florrie. ‘We arranged to meet outside at half-past two and go to the summer-house together, but in the struggle we got separated and I ran back into the building. I only meant to hide for a little while, but then I got stuck and couldn’t get out. So Natalia went missing, did she?’
‘Yes, but she’s back now. I don’t know exactly what happened—Angela can probably tell you that.’
Florrie turned her eyes questioningly towards Angela, who said:
‘She told rather an odd story about being taken to a house in Percham and held prisoner. She says she escaped yesterday evening when her captors left the door unlocked.’
Florrie snorted.
‘Rot!’ she said. ‘I don’t believe a word of it. She probably said it just to get herself out of trouble.’
‘That’s hardly kind, when she put herself in danger for your sake,’ said Barbara, who was very fair-minded.
‘Put herself in danger for my sake?’ said Florrie. ‘Don’t be an ass, Barbara. Haven’t you been listening?’
‘Of course I have,’ said Barbara. ‘But I haven’t understood much yet. Do you mean Irina was lying about where she was?’
‘Yes, you idiot,’ said Florrie. ‘She’s been lying all along. She came here to betray me, and she very nearly managed it.’
TWENTY-SIX
Angela left Florrie in the care of Barbara and Violet, with strict instructions to allow no-one to enter the room, while she hurried downstairs to fetch Mr. Hesketh. They had all been kept in the dark for far too long now, and it was vital that he be informed immediately of the real situation. The girl they had believed to be Irina was not the Princess at all, but the wife of Morania’s Head of Intelligence, who had lured Florrie into a trap, presumably with the intention of killing her. Only Florrie’s natural wariness and quick thinking had allowed her to escape. Had she not then become trapped in the attic, the Everichs might now be safely under arrest.
Florrie’s story was simple enough. After the attempt on the Grand Duke’s life, she had been all for going straight to Mr. Hesketh and confessing her real identity to him, for she wanted to get back to Morania as quickly as possible to be at her father’s bedside. But Natalia Everich had persuaded her not to do it, saying that there was danger all around, and that it was more important than ever for the secret to be kept. Raul would be here tomorrow, she said, and he would take them home, but in the meantime the assassins were still at large, and so it was vital that the Princess remain in hiding for the present. Florrie was unhappy at this, but obeyed, since, after all, Natalia was there to protect her, and presumably knew what she was doing.
On Saturday Everich arrived, but Florrie was unable to speak to him for more than a minute or two. He told her to be patient, and that she should hear from him before the day was out. He then went off to Percham with Natalia—presumably, as it turned out, for the purposes of putting the finishing touches to the plot against the Princess. Late that afternoon Natalia returned from Percham with a note from Everich. The note said that they were all to return to Morania that night, and that Florrie must come out to the summer-house with Natalia to meet Everich there. She was not to bring anything since she was going to be smuggled out of the country and there would be no room for luggage. This all seemed rather odd to Florrie, who still did not understand why they should not tell Mr. Hesketh and employ the assistance of British Intelligence, and so perhaps she was more suspicious than she might otherwise have been. She decided to take her own precautions, and before she crept out of the dorm concealed in her sleeve a knife which had been a parting present from her father.
She met Natalia as instructed, and they went to the appointed meeting-place together. Florrie’s feeling that something was wrong intensified as they walked, for Natalia was nervous and on edge, and gave only short answers to Florrie’s questions. When they arrived at the summer-house Natalia stood back to allow Florrie to enter first, whereupon Florrie smelled a rat and suggested they wait outside. Natalia urged her on, saying that they had better hurry, or Miss Bell would wake up and notice she was missing and then the plan would be ruined. She was so insistent that Florrie went in, and was immediately set upon by two men, one of whom tried to clap a handkerchief drenched in something sweet-smelling over her nose. Unfortunately for him, Florrie had been half-expecting something of the sort and had her knife
at the ready, which she stuck as hard as she could into his hand. He yelled and loosened his hold, while the other man retreated for an instant at the sight of the knife, giving her the opportunity to escape. She shot out of the summer-house and back towards the school building, intending to raise the alarm, with one of the men in pursuit. She glanced behind her, saw the moonlight glinting off his fair hair, and knew for certain then that it was Everich and that she had been betrayed.
She had thought she would be safe when she reached the school building, but to her horror he followed her inside, into a wing well away from all the teachers. She crouched behind a cupboard in one of the corridors, listening to her pursuer open first one classroom door then another in search of her, and wondered where she might go, but in her fear the only place she could think of was the attic. Everich was getting closer, and so she waited for him to open another door and under cover of the sound made a dive for the stairs across the way. She reached the attic, congratulating herself on having shaken him off, and intending to come out in daylight when there were plenty of people about, but to her dismay, when she shut the little door behind her the handle came off in her hand, and she found herself trapped. And there she had stayed until Barbara and Violet had come to find her, oblivious to all the uproar over the disappearance of the fake princess. Now she was safe—or would be once the Everichs had been unmasked as the traitors they were and put under arrest.