The Judas kiss

The Hunting Lodge

Our journey was long but never tedious, for I was in a state of great excitement from the outset. It was the most wonderful piece of luck that Daisy had come to England at this time. She was a very resourceful young woman and liked to imagine herself the seasoned traveller.

I had insisted that we travel first-class and that I should pay for Daisy as she was going to be my companion and guide. As we took the train to Harwich and I sat back in the first compartment looking at a very complacent Daisy, I knew that Cousin Arthur had been right when he had said this was the best thing I could do. I was starting a new life and I was glad to escape from the last weeks which had become almost intolerable.

I was convinced that from now on my life would be adventurous. I had an important project in mind and I felt as though I were setting out to seek my fortune.

The crossing from Harwich to the Hook of Holland was uneventful, and after staying the night at an inn we boarded a train and travelled for miles across the flattest country I have ever seen.

"Never mind," said Daisy, "you'll have mountains and forests enough when you get to Bruxenstein. Perhaps you'll be wishing for a bit of flat there."

"I can't wait to arrive," I said.

"You've got a long way to go yet, Miss Pip."

How right she was! Once again I had reason to be grateful to Cousin Arthur, who had made the arrangements for us with a company in London that looked after such matters, so we knew exactly which way we had to go. We were to spend a night at Utrecht before taking the train to Bavaria, and the journey was beginning to be so interesting that had I not been so eager to reach my destination, I should have liked to linger longer over every detail of it.

The first-class carriages had four seats in front and four behind, and each carriage was subdivided into two sections by a central door, just as in our first-class carriages at home. But there was a more formal atmosphere here. One was conscious of a display of discipline, and the attendants wore cocked hats and carried swords so that they looked almost military.

"We're a bit like that in Bruxenstein," Daisy explained. "All that clicking heels and bowing from the waist ... It sometimes makes me want to laugh."

At Arnheim two men and a woman joined our carriage. They looked pleasant and smiled in our direction. I explained that we were English, and they thereupon began to talk to us in our own tongue although they only had a fair command of it, and my German, thanks to Miss Elton and my early grounding, was better than their English.

Were we going beyond Utrecht, they wanted to know? I told them we were travelling to Bruxenstein.

"Is that indeed so," said the man. "Interesting place, Bruxenstein ... at the moment."

"Why do you say at the moment?" I asked. "Is there some reason why it is now so?"

"Things have been a little ... what do you call it... in the boiling pot since the death of the Baron Rudolph."

My heart began to beat faster. Daisy sat demurely beside me, like the quiet little maid she had said everyone would think she was, because she looked the part and I looked like the mistress.

"Wasn't there some scandal—?" I began.

"Scandal indeed. He was shot dead in his hunting lodge. There was a woman with him and she was killed too."

"I heard of it."

"So the news travelled to England."

The woman said, "That was probably because the lady in the case was English."

"That may be," said the man, "but in any case the country has been a little uneasy since."

"Mind you," put in the other man, "there is always something going on in these little states. It's time they were all joined up and became part of the Germanic Empire."

"Being a Prussian, you would say that, Otto," said the other with a smile.

"Do you know what really happened about this shooting matter?" I asked.

"No-one really knows, but one can guess. There are theories . .. many of them. Perhaps the lady had another lover who was jealous. That's one of the theories. But I don't think that's the answer. No. Someone did not want Rudolph ruling over the province, so that person—or persons —put a bullet through him. Probably someone from the other side."

"You mean he has a rival?"

"There is always someone next in the line of succession. There's this nephew of the reigning duke. What's his name, Otto?"

"Baron Sigmund."

"Yes, son of a younger brother of the Grand Duke. Isn't that so?"

"Exactly. Some seem to think he'd suit the part better and that it is not such a bad thing that Rudolph is out of the way."

"Murder is rather a drastic way of settling these matters!" I said.

"Still," went on Otto, "it is better that one—or two-should die than that thousands should be submitted to tyranny."

"Was this Rudolph a tyrant, then?"

"Far from it. I've heard that he was something of a sybarite, a young man too fond of pleasure to make a good ruler. That kind always get surrounded by the wrong people who rule for them. The present Grand Duke has been a good ruler. It's a pity he's so old. I gather he was old when Rudolph was born. He married twice, the first time being unfruitful. His brother was killed fighting in one of the rebellions or wars ... and that left Sigmund heir after Rudolph."

"You know a great deal about the family."

"It's common knowledge. It's a small principality—or dukedom rather—and the royal family lives close to the people. Different from in your country, Miss er ..."

I hesitated and then said quickly, "Ayres. Anne Ayres."

"Very different, Miss Ayres, although I suppose your Queen's private life is not exactly a closed book to your people."

"It is so exemplary," I replied, "that there is no need for it to be. If there are differences and family friction, I suppose there would be a tendency to keep that secret."

"How right you are! And I daresay there is very much the people of Bruxenstein do not know about their ruling family. Do you intend to spend any time in Utrecht?"

"Only an hour or so ... possibly a morning ... as we have to wait for trains."

"You'll enjoy it. It's one of the most interesting of the Dutch cities, I always thought. Tremendous history. The Romans built a fortress there to guard the river, one of the branches of the Rhine, you know, where it is joined by the Vecht. You must see the remains of the great cathedral ..."

I was scarcely listening. My thoughts were with Francine lying dead on that bed in the hunting lodge.

We said goodbye to our travelling companions at Utrecht and continued our journey, and as we crossed the border into Germany my excitement increased. Those fir-covered mountains, those little streams, the glorious river with its castles looking down almost scornfully, it seemed, on the scene below, the little villages which seemed to have come straight out of stories by the brothers Grimm which Miss Elton used to read to us in the original ... all this seemed to me the stuff of legend. This was the land of goblins and elves, of trolls and giants, of mountain kings and snow queens and children lost in enchanted woods where wolves roamed and there were gingerbread houses. It was the land of the Norse gods—Odin, Thor and Baldur the beautiful and mischievous Loki. It was in the air ... I could sense it—in Hollenthal Gorge, called the Valley of Hell, in the glorious forests of the Schwarzwald, the Thuringian Wald, and the Odenwald ... vine-covered hill slopes. There were miles and miles of trees—oak, beeches, but mainly the firs and pines of the forest. It was the romantic land—Conrad's land, and the farther I penetrated, the more I thought of him.

The journey had taken us several days, as it had been the advice of those who planned it that we should take it comfortably. I realized that they were right, and although I longed to be in Bruxenstein where I was beginning to believe the answer to the mystery would be found, I did feel that I was getting an understanding of the country and even the people, through those I met on the journey.

In due course we arrived at the town of Bruxburg which was, I gathered, the capital city of Bruxenstein, and we were able to take a trap out to the cottage which was the home of Daisy and Hans, and in this we rode through the town. It was quite large, but on that occasion I saw very little of it beyond the square with the town hall and a few impressive buildings. But I noticed immediately the castle on the incline presiding, as it were, over the town, and looking very much like those I had seen throughout our journey through the country. It looked impressive and very beautiful, I thought, with its towers and grey stone walls.

"We're right below it," said Daisy. "It's easy to get up to the slosh. There's a road runs from our cottage right up to it."

"Daisy," I said, "what are you going to tell Hans about me?"

"About you! What do you mean?"

"He'll know me."

"I shouldn't think so."

"But don't you think some of the servants ... when they come back from the Grange ... ?"

"They'll never recognize you now. You've changed a lot from that little twelve-year-old. I'll tell Hans all about it and we'll explain that as your name is Ewell and there was that scandal about your sister, you've decided to call yourself Anne Ayres. Hans will see the point. We'll let it be known that you came out with me. Miss Ayres is someone I knew in England and as she was coming out I said why didn't she stay. A sort of paying guest, you see."

So she lulled my fears.

The trap deposited us with our luggage—mostly mine—at the cottage, and Hans came out to meet us. He and Daisy were immediately caught up in a delighted embrace; then he turned to greet me. I remembered him well. He clicked his heels and bowed while Daisy began explaining the situation to him in rather a breathless manner. I was going to be their paying guest until I decided what to do. I wanted to see something of the country. She knew it was all right. And how was her darling little Hans?

Little Hans was well. Frau Wurtzer had looked after him well and Hans had seen him almost every day while Daisy had been away.

"I'll be off first thing in the morning to get that young fellow," said Daisy.

I went into the cottage, which was spotlessly clean. I later discovered that there were two bedrooms and a sort of boxroom upstairs and two downstairs with a kitchen. It was delightfully fresh and I could smell the pines of the nearby forest.

Hans welcomed me warmly and I wondered whether this was due to natural politeness or whether in fact he resented my presence in this rather small house.

As we went in a round faced woman appeared from the kitchen. She was in a large, very clean print apron and her sleeves were rolled up; she carried a ladle in her hands.

Daisy flew at her. "Gisela!" she cried.

"Daisy ..."

Daisy turned to me. "This is my good friend, Gisela Wurtzer, who has been looking after Hansie for me."

The woman smiled and looked conspiratorially at Hans.

"He's here!" cried Daisy. "My little Hans is here."

She flew up the stairs and Hans looked at me and smiled. "She missed her baby," he said, "but I thought she should take the opportunity to see her mother and her father. There is a duty to the parents when they are getting old, eh?"

I agreed that this was so and Gisela nodded to imply that that was her opinion also. Daisy came down the stairs holding a sturdy boy who was rubbing his eyes and looking a little cross because he had obviously been wakened from his sleep.

"Look at him, Miss—" She had been going to say Pip and stopped herself in time. "Now tell me, did you ever see a more beautiful boy?"

"Never!" I cried.

She kissed him fervently and now, fully awake, he regarded me from a pair of light-blue eyes.

I took his fat little hand and kissed it.

"He likes you," said Gisela.

"It's true," agreed Daisy. "He's a very sharp young fellow. How's he been, Gisela? Missing his mum?"

Hans had to translate most of Daisy's words, which were spoken in English, and as Gisela had no English, conversation was a little difficult. But the rapport between the two women was obvious.

"Tell her how good it was of her to bring him so that I didn't have to wait," commanded Daisy.

Gisela smiled when she heard. "But of course I brought him," she said.

I had to hear of all the wonderful qualities of young Hans, which I did in English from Daisy and in German from Gisela and Hans.

"Gisela knows," said Hans, "for she is especially good with children."

"I should be," replied Gisela. "I have six of my own. Numbers help. The big ones look after the little ones."

Young Hans showed signs of wanting to return to his bed, so Daisy took him upstairs and Gisela, who had set the table, said that food was ready. We partook of a soup of a rather mysterious but delicious flavour with rye bread, after which there was cold pork with vegetables and to follow, a pie containing apples. It was a good meal and Gisela was clearly proud of it. She served it and ate with us while we talked of the journey, and then she said she must get back because Arnulf did not like to be left too long to look after the children.

Hans walked home with her.

"Now you see, Miss Pip," said Daisy when we were alone, "what a nice little situation I've got myself into."

"I do, Daisy," I replied. "But shouldn't you stop calling me Miss Pip?"

"I must. Miss Ayres sounds so funny. Not a bit like you. Miss Pip is just right. It won't matter much if I get a slip of the tongue. That's what is so good about this. You say something you shouldn't and you just blame the language. It helps the wheels go round."

"Oh, Daisy, how happy you must be. Hans is so good and the baby such a darling."

"Well, as I say, Miss P—I mean Miss Ayres—I reckon I've done pretty well for myself."

"You deserve all the good luck in the world."

"Well, come to think of it, you could use a bit yourself and by rights you ought to have it."

She showed me my room. It was very small with chintz curtains, a bed, a chair and a cupboard ... very little else, but I was grateful for it.

"We don't use it often," she said apologetically. "It's to be for young Hans when he gets a little older. In the meantime his bed's in the very small room next to ours and that'll be all right for a few months more."

"I shall be gone by then."

"Don't talk about going. You've only just come." Daisy had turned to me, her eyes shining. "It's ever so exciting, you coming here like this. I reckon we'll make a fine pair of detectives, you and me." She paused. "You know Gisela ... well, she was caretaker at the lodge... . Still keeps an eye on it, you know."

"Daisy!" I cried. "Well then she might know—"

"Don't you think we've talked? She doesn't know any more than anyone else. I haven't found out anything from her because she doesn't know."

"No one ... however friendly ... must know why I'm here."

"Trust me," said Daisy. "Silent as the grave, that's me."

Hans returned and Daisy reckoned it was time we had a good night's sleep.

"We can talk in the morning," she added.

And we all agreed with her.

The next day I decided to explore the town. Daisy could not accompany me because she had her son to look after. When she went into the town one of the servants from the schloss would bring down a pony carriage which they used for short journeys and take her in. They did this twice a week so that she could shop. Hans, it seemed, now held quite an important position in the Graf's household which entitled him to such privileges.

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining on the green and red roofs of the houses and the grey walls of the schloss. Here and there the sharp flint edges twinkled like diamonds where the sun caught them.

I was in a mood of exultation. I had accomplished so much and I was certain that something tremendous would happen soon. I wondered what I should do if I came upon Conrad sauntering through the town. I knew so little of him. I did not even know his surname. He was simply Conrad to me. I must have been in a bemused state not to ask him more questions and to be so easily put off with eva­sions. Equerry to a nobleman! I wondered if that could be the Graf, as he had been staying at the Grange, although the house was used by several families, I believed. But if the Graf were his employer he might at this very moment be within those grey stone walls.

How wonderful it would be to see him again. I tried to imagine our greeting. Would he be surprised? Delighted? Had he perhaps dismissed me from his mind as the sort of woman a man meets, makes love to and rides away from ... forgotten in a few months ... even weeks ... just one of the women who amused him for a while?

I could see the bluish grey stream of the river winding its way through the town to where the slopes on either side were covered with pines and fir trees, and away in the distance the vines were growing in abundance. I was again transported to those days when Miss Elton read to us. There in the forest I knew I should hear the cowbells ringing through the mist. Miss Elton had told us of her visits to such places when she was taken to see her mother's people. There the gods roamed and the valkyries rode. I could sense it all. In that square I could see the mayor and his corporation sitting in dismayed discussion; I could see the Pied Piper playing his magic pipes and luring the rats into the river and the children into the mountainside. It moved me deeply. I was aware of much of the past. I pictured Francine coming here with Rudolph. I wondered how she had felt, whether she had been aware from the beginning that her liaison—I had ceased to call it a marriage in my thoughts—was to be kept a secret.

There were several large houses with oriel windows projecting from the facades and carved woodwork at these windows. It appeared to be a prosperous town. There was the minster with its pointed spire and around it streets of small houses. I guessed that many of the people who were not employed in the big houses worked in the vineyards. I passed a forge and a mill ... and then I was really in the town.

I wandered through the market, where dairy produce and vegetables were for sale. Some people looked at me rather curiously. They would know at once that I was a stranger and I guessed that they did not get a great many tourists here.

At length I came to an inn over which a sign creaked in the wind. It proclaimed itself to be the Grand Duke's Tavern. I saw stables which contained horses, and at the back of the inn there was a garden in which tables and chairs had been set up. I sat down at one of these and a plump smiling woman came out to ask what I should like.

I guessed it was one of the biergartens of which I had heard and I asked her for a tankard of beer, wondering as I did so whether women did this sort of thing here or whether I was acting strangely.

She brought me a goblet of beer and seemed inclined to talk.

"You are travelling through our town, Fraulein?"

"I am staying for a visit," I told her.

"That is very good. It is a beautiful town, eh?"

I agreed that it was. An idea had occurred to me. "I see you have horses here. It is not always easy to go round on foot. Do you hire out your horses?"

"There is not much call for it. But I think my husband might."

"I want to see something of the country. I ride a great deal at home in England. If I could hire a horse—"

"Where do you stay, if I may ask, Fraulein?"

"I am staying in a cottage. It belongs to Herr Schmidt. I am a friend of his wife."

"Ah!" A smile broke out on her face. "You speak of the good Hans. He is a very proud man. He has an English wife and a fine little boy."

"Oh yes ... young Hans."

"His wife—she is very nice."

"Very nice."

"And you are from the same country ... come to see your friend?"

"To see her and the baby and your beautiful country."

"Oh, it is very beautiful. You could see much on horseback. You are an experienced rider, Fraulein?"

"Yes, indeed. I ride a great deal at home."

"It will be arranged. There must be a charge."

"But of course."

"When you have drunk your beer you must see my husband."

"I will."

"He will be in the inn."

She seemed reluctant to leave me and I think she may have been a little fascinated by my foreign appearance and perhaps by my speech, for although I was fluent enough I guessed that my accent might betray my country of origin.

"Such nice places to visit," she went on. "You can go to the old ruined schloss which was the home of the Grand Dukes years ago. You can go to the shooting lodge ... Oh, but perhaps not."

"The shooting lodge?"

"Yes, it is the Grand Duke's lodge. You cannot see his schloss. No, it is not that one you see on the hill. That is the schloss of the Graf von Bindorf. The Grand Duke's can only be seen from the other side of the town. You cannot go in, of course, but there is a good view and that is worth seeing."

I said, "What about the shooting lodge?"

She lifted her shoulders. "There was a tragedy there," she said.

"You mean the one where the Baron was murdered?"

She nodded. "It was a few years ago."

"Is it near here?" I asked quickly.

"It is about a mile and a half from Herr Schmidt's cottage. You would not want to see it. It's dismal now. At one time ... oh, but there it is. No, you would not want to visit it now."

I did not reply. I was going to get that horse and see that shooting lodge just as soon as I possibly could.

I went to see the innkeeper before I left. Then I walked back to Daisy's cottage, having booked a horse for the next day. I was making progress. I was about to visit the scene of the crime.

I did not mention even to Daisy that I was about to visit the hunting lodge. I merely told her that I had been to the Grand Duke's Tavern and seen horses there and had decided to hire one to help me around to see the countryside. She was pleased because looking after the cottage and young Hans was really as much as she could find time for.

So accordingly, on the next day, I went into the town, and was soon riding back the way I had come, past Daisy's cottage, for the innkeeper's wife had said the lodge was a mile and a half from that spot.

I had known that Daisy's cottage was on the edge of the forest, so I was not surprised to find that after I had left it a little way behind, the trees grew closer together. There was only one path through them so I took it.

It was a beautiful morning. I made my way through the trees. Except for the occasional oak and birch, they were chiefly fir and pine and the resinous smell was strong in the air. I could not rid myself of the feeling that I had stepped into one of Miss Elton's fairy tales of the forest.

After I had ridden some way, I came to a cottage and I wondered if it was Gisela's. I was about to stop and ask, but I was anxious that no one should guess that I was unduly interested in the lodge ... even a friend of Daisy's.

The door of the cottage was shut, but it had a little garden and in this was a child's wheelbarrow. I passed it and went on up the path. I must have gone for about half a mile when I saw it. It was bigger than I had thought it would be. A hunting lodge suggests something rather small—a place where people stayed for a night or two when hunting in the forest. But of course this was a royal hunting lodge, so naturally it would be more grand.

My heart was beating fast. I pictured Francine coming here through the forest with her lover. How had it been with them? This would have been her home. She had stayed here because her lover was so important that he could not admit to marrying someone quite unsuitable. The idea of Francine's being considered unsuitable for anyone because of her unworthiness made me feel really angry. I told myself not to be foolish. If I were going to get foolishly emotional I should soon betray myself.

The hunting lodge was in grey stone and looked like a miniature schloss. It had two towers—one at either side— and an arched porch. There were several windows in the front. There could be no doubt that this was the place. I dismounted and tethered my horse to a post which I found and which was obviously meant for that purpose. There was an eerieness about the scene. Was it because I knew that a murder had taken place here or because the trees grew so close together, making it dark and fullof shadows, and because the faint breeze stirring the leaves sounded like whispering voices?

My heart was beating wildly as I went uneasily forward, picking my way through the long grass scattered with pine cones.

I approached the porch, tingling with excitement. I stood on the porch and listened. There was a bell on the side of it with a long chain. I pulled this and the sound which broke the silence was deafening.

I held my breath, listening. I noticed a shutter in the door which could be pulled back to allow someone on the inside to look out and see who was standing there. I stared at it. Nothing happened. And then I heard an almost imperceptible sound and it came from within. It was as though someone was creeping towards the door.

I stood very still and my heart seemed as though it would leap from my body. I was already forming in my mind what I would say if I was confronted by someone who demanded my business here. I was a stranger. I was lost in the forest. I wanted to know my way back to the Schmidts' cottage where I was staying during my visit to Bruxenstein.

I stood there waiting, and then I began to wonder whether the sounds I heard were merely the wild beating of my own heart. No, surely not. There was the sound of something being dragged along the floor. I waited in trepidation, but nothing happened. Of one thing I was certain. There was someone inside the hunting lodge.

I stood there for some minutes. There was complete silence, but I knew that someone was on the other side of the door.

I rang the bell again and the sound burst out loud and clanging. I listened, keeping my eye on the shutter. But nothing happened.

I walked away and as I did so I heard a faint noise behind me. The shutter had moved. Oh yes, I was right. Someone was in the house, someone who would not answer my ringing. Why? I wondered.

It was all rather uncanny.

I walked along to one of the windows and looked in. Dust sheets covered the furniture. I walked round to the back.

"Oh, Francine," I murmured, "what happened? Someone is in there. Is it some human? Or is it ghosts?"

I had come to the back of the lodge. I could hear a bird singing somewhere in the forest. A gentle breeze ruffled the pine trees and their scent seemed stronger than ever. There was a door at the back and I went to it and rapped loudly on it and while I stood there I heard a movement behind me. I turned sharply. My eyes went immediately to a clump of bushes, for I thought I detected movement there.

"Who is there?" I called out. "Come out and tell me the way. I'm lost."

I heard a soft laugh, more like a giggle. I went towards the bushes.

They stood before me with wide blue eyes and tousled hair. They were both dressed in dark blue jerkins and blue skirts. One was slightly taller than the other, but I guessed them to be of the same age, which could not have been more than four or five years old.

"Who are you?" I asked in German.

"The twins," they answered simultaneously.

"What are you doing in this place?"

"Playing."

"Have you been watching me?"

They started to laugh and nodded.

"Where have you come from?"

One of them pointed vaguely.

"Are you a long way from home?"

The same one nodded.

"What are your names?"

One pointed to the blue jerkin and said "Carl." The other did likewise and said "Gretchen."

"So you're a little girl and you're a little boy."

They nodded, laughing.

"Is anyone in there?" I asked, pointing to the lodge.

Again they giggled and nodded.

"Who?"

They hunched their shoulders and looked at each other.

"Won't you tell me?" I asked.

"No," said the one named Carl. "You've got a horse."

"Yes. Would you like to come and see it?"

They both nodded with enthusiasm. As we walked round to the front of the lodge I looked towards the porch and so did they. I guessed they knew who was in the house and I promised myself that I would get it out of them.

The children were delighted with my horse. "Don't go too near him," I warned and obediently they stood back.

I turned my head sharply. The shutter was open and we were being observed.

"Can you take me into the lodge?" I asked the twins.

They looked at each other without answering.

"Come on," I said. "Let's go and look. How do you get in?"

Still they did not speak, and as we stood there a boy appeared. He must have come round from the back of the lodge. He called out, "Carl! Gretchen! What are you doing?" He looked rather flushed and defiant.

"Hello," I said. "Where have you come from?"

He didn't answer and I went on. "I'm lost in the forest. I saw this place and thought you would tell me the way."

I fancied he looked relieved.

"Was it you in the house?" I asked. "Did you look at me through the shutter?"

He didn't answer. Instead he said, "Where did you want to go? The town is in that direction." He pointed to the way I had come.

"Thank you," I said. "What an interesting place this is."

"There was a murder here once," he told me.

"Was that really so?"

"Yes. It was the heir to the throne."

"How did you get in?"

"I have a key," he said rather importantly, and the twins looked at him with undisguised admiration.

"How did you get the key?"

He was silent, shutting his lips firmly.

"I wouldn't tell tales," I promised him. "I'm a stranger here ... just someone who's lost her way in the forest. I'd love to look inside that place. I've never seen where a murder was committed."

He looked at me pityingly. I guessed him to be about eleven years old.

I went on, "What's your name?"

He said, "What's yours?"

"I'm Anne Ayres."

"You're a foreigner."

"That's right. I'm here looking at the country. It's very beautiful but most of all I'd like to see a place where a murder was committed."

"It was in the big bedroom," he said. "It's all covered up. Nobody comes now. People wouldn't want to sleep in a place where there had been a murder, would they?"

"I should think not. Are there ghosts here?"

"I don't know," he said.

"Do you come often?"

"We have the key," he said importantly again.

"Why do you have the key?"

"So that my mother can go in and clean it."

Now I was sure who the children were.

"I see. Would you take me in?" He hesitated and I said, "Take me in and I'll give you a ride on my horse."

I saw the sparkle in his eyes and now it was my turn to receive the awed glances of the twins.

"All right," he said.

"Come on then."

We walked round to the porch, and I said to him, "You heard me ring, didn't you?"

He nodded.

"And you looked through the shutter at me. And you had to pull something up to see through it."

"Next year I'll be tall enough."

"I am sure you will be."

Proudly he opened the door. There was a creaking sound as he did so. We were in a hall with wooden floors and oak walls. There was a large table in the centre and on the walls were spears and lances. Everything was covered up with dust sheets. The door shut and the twins, hand in hand, walked behind us.

"By the way, what is your name?" I asked the boy. "I know the twins are Carl and Gretchen."

"Arnulf," he said.

"Well, Arnulf, it is good of you to show me round."

He seemed suddenly to lose his suspicion of me. He said, "I'm not supposed to come here."

"Oh, I see. That's why you didn't open the door."

He nodded.

"Gisela was coming with me."

"Who is Gisela?"

"My sister. She wouldn't come. She was afraid of ghosts. She said I wouldn't dare go alone."

"And you wanted to show her that you would."

He looked disparagingly at the twins. "They follow me everywhere."

The twins looked at each other and smiled as though they had done something clever.

"I wouldn't let them come in, though. I made them wait outside. I thought that if there were ghosts they might not like the twins in here, giggling. They're always giggling."

"You didn't think the ghosts would mind you?"

"Well, they're such babies. And they never go anywhere without each other."

"Twins are often like that," I said sympathetically.

He started up the stairs. "I'll show you the bedroom," he said. "It's where it happened, you know."

"The murder," I whispered.

He threw open the door with the gesture of a showman who is about to reveal his masterpiece.

Now I was actually there ... where Francine had been murdered.

The bed was partially covered in dust sheets, but the four posts with their elaborate red hangings were visible. I was overcome by my emotion. Face to face with the scene of the crime, I could picture it so clearly. My beautiful sister in that bed with her handsome, romantic but oh so dangerous lover. I wanted to throw myself on those dust sheets, to touch the soft velvet of the draperies and just release the bitter tears I had tried so hard to hold back ... to weep for the sadness of it all.

"Are you all right?" asked Arnulf.

"Yes ... yes. It's a big bed."

"It had to be. There were two of them."

My voice shook a little. I said, "What do you know of them? Why were they killed?"

"Because they didn't want him to be Grand Duke and because she was there and saw it." He dismissed the cause as though it were of little importance. "My father is the caretaker," he added proudly. "And my mother comes in to clean."

"I see. That explains everything. Do you come here often?"

He hunched his shoulders and did not answer. Then he said, "We've got to go now."

I was torn between my desire to stay in that room and a desperate need to get away if I were going to control my feelings. I said quickly, "May I take a look at the rest of it?"

"Quick then," he said.

"Then you show me."

He enjoyed showing me. He liked best the kitchens where, he told me, venison was cooked on the great spits and in the cauldrons, relics of a previous age and yet they had been used until recently. There were several bedrooms for servants and huntsmen, I guessed, and there was one room that was full of guns.

I looked out of a back-room window and saw the stables, which were empty now.

"Come on," said Arnulf. "It's getting late."

"Perhaps another time you'll show me some more," I said. "I want you to have this." I gave him a coin which he looked at in amazement. "Guides are always paid," I told him.

"Am I a guide, then?"

"You have been this morning."

He looked at the coin almost disbelievingly, and the twins came closer to inspect it. It was clear that they had a very high opinion of their brother.

"Arnulf is a guide," said Carl to Gretchen.

She nodded and they kept repeating the word: Guide.

"So," I said, "if I should wish to see it again ..."

Arnulf smiled at me.

"Tell me where you live," I said. "Is it far from here?"

He shook his head.

"I'll take you home," I said. "I tell you what, you can all ride on my horse and I'll walk beside you. How's that?"

They all nodded gleefully. Arnulf carefully put back the bench he had drawn to the door in order that he might look through the shutter, and we went out and he locked the door.

The three children sat on my horse and we were on our way. I was not surprised when Gisela came to the door of the cottage, but she was. "Why," she cried, "it's Fraulein Ayres."

Arnulf suffered a moment's apprehension when he realized I knew his mother.

I said quickly, "Well, fancy the children's mother being you. We met in the forest. We talked and I offered them a ride home."

Her plump face was creased in smiles.

"Well, you have had a good morning," she said. "And the twins too."

I lifted them down. Arnulf showed his superiority by needing no help.

"I think," said Gisela, "that we must ask Fraulein Ayres if she would care to have some refreshment."

"Oh yes please, Mutti," cried Arnulf, and the twins nodded vigorously. It was pleasant to know that they had taken a fancy to me as I had to them.

I tethered the horse and we went into the cottage, which was small but exceptionally clean. We sat at a table and Gisela poured some soup into platters. It was rather like that which I had sampled on my arrival at Daisy's house and we ate rye bread with it.

I said, "This is very good of you. I was wondering whether I should return to the town and go to the inn for something to eat."

"Did you see the hunting lodge?" she asked. "This is the road to it, you know."

There was a moment's silence at the table while three pairs of eyes watched me anxiously to see if their owners would be betrayed.

"It's the rather palatial place about half a mile from here, is it not?"

"That's it. This is in the nature of being the lodge cottage. Part of the royal estate. Arnulf and I had to look after the place. Those duties go with the cottage."

"Arnulf is my father," the young Arnulf explained. "It's not me. I'm named after him."

"I see," I said.

Gisela smiled at Arnulf and at me. She was a very motherly woman and I liked her more than ever.

"You took the twins with you," she said to Arnulf. "Where are the others?"

"Gisela wouldn't come with us."

"And the others are with her, I suppose." She smiled at me. "They love playing in the forest and Gisela won't let them go too far. Arnulf, go and call in the others."

Arnulf went out and the twins followed him rather reluctantly, I thought. They were torn between the habit of following their elder brother and staying to study the stranger.

Gisela said, "They keep me busy, but when the elder ones look after the small ones it makes life easier."

"You must have a great deal to do ... your own house ... your children ... and the hunting lodge."

"I only go there two or three times a week now. In the old days it was different. There were people there then. They would have parties too. It was one of the Baron's favourite places."

"The one who was murdered?"

"That's right."

"He was there with ..."

"Yes, his lady friend. She was a very beautiful young woman."

"Did you know her?"

"Why yes, I was up there ... looking after the place, and when there was all that trouble she was living there. He used to come when he could. They were very much in love. It was such a shame."

"Was she there very long?"

"Quite a long time. You see, he couldn't very well set her up in the town. The Grand Duke would not have allowed that."

"But if they were married—"

"Oh, there was nothing of that. Rudolph had had his ladies before ... but this one seemed ..."

"Seemed what?"

"Well, rather different. She was a lovely lady, kind to the servants, always laughing. We all liked her and it was a blow to us when it happened. There's a lot of rivalry here among the various noble houses, you know."

I was growing tremendously excited. This had been a rewarding morning. Not only had I visited the scene of the crime but I was actually talking to someone who had known Francine well.

"I did hear there was a child," I began tentatively.

She stared at me in amazed horror. "Where on earth could you have heard such a tale!"

"I—er—heard it," I replied lamely.

"Since you have been here?"

"N-no. There was something about the murder in the English papers."

"Did they mention a child then?"

"It was some time ago ..."

"Yes, a few years. But a child! I'm surprised about that."

"Well, you would know ... living here."

"Oh yes, I should have known. I must say I'd rather we didn't have to look after the place now. It always seems a bit ghostly nowadays. Of course it was always dark and rather damp in the heart of the forest as it is, and now being shut up."

"Do you think it will be used again?"

"In time, I daresay. In a while all this will be forgotten. I reckon when the Grand Duke dies and Sigmund takes his place, there will be changes."

"Do you think that will be a good thing?"

"We should all be sorry to see the old Grand Duke go. He's been good for the country. Sigmund ... ? Well, he's a bit of a puzzle at the moment. He has a certain fascination ... well, Rudolph had that. They've got good looks and charm, the whole family. There's no doubt about that. When Sigmund marries the young Countess I should think he will probably settle down."

I wasn't interested in the future. It was the past which obsessed me. I took my leave with many thanks and Gisela requested that I call again and meet the rest of her family very soon.

I said I would.

Eventually I took the horse back to the inn with the promise that I would hire it again.

I was extremely satisfied. It had been a rewarding day.

After having made such a good start and got, as I thought, so far within a few days of my arrival, I was due for a disappointment.

I told Daisy about my encounter in the forest and how I had found the lodge and Gisela's cottage. Yes, she said, Gisela had what they called the hunting cottage and she kept an eye on the hunting lodge. She was a busy woman and they didn't have a lot of time to see each other, but they did whenever they could.

I said, "Daisy, you must have seen my sister when you visited Gisela."

"No, I didn't visit her when your sister was here. It was only when young Hans was born that we got the cottage and became neighbours. Before that I was up at the slosh and that's a good way from the forest."

"Two or three miles, I suppose."

"That would be about it, and there wasn't much call for me to go her way or her to come mine. It's only since I've lived here."

"It was strange that I should meet the children like that."

"A bit of luck, though. I daresay Gisela would have shown you round if she'd been there. I can see it's upset you, seeing all that. What good does it do? Come to think of it, what good is it going to do if you find out who murdered her?"

"There are two things I want to discover, Daisy. And those are: Was she really married and the whereabouts of her child."

Daisy shook her head. "These barons don't marry like that. It's all arranged and there was no mention of a child."

"But Daisy, Francine told me in her letters. She told me she was married and where the ceremony had taken place. I went to the church and saw the entry in the register ... and then when I went again it wasn't there. She told me she had a little boy, Rudolph. She wouldn't have made that up."

Daisy was thoughtful: "She might," she said. "Think of the shock it would be to her, for I reckon she thought he was going to marry her and then when she found he couldn't, she started to dream up what might have been. You know Miss France. She was one to look on the bright side of things, and if it didn't work out right she'd want to believe it did."

"But I tell you I saw the entry."

"But when you went again you didn't see it."

I realized she thought I was a little like Francine. If things were not what I wanted, I imagined they were so strongly that I believed what I wanted to.

A week passed, and I had got no further. I had hired the horse on several days and ridden into the forest. It was no use just looking at the hunting lodge. That would not get me very far. I explored the town; I sat in the Biergarten. People talked to me now and then because I was a stranger, I supposed. They gave me directions as to how to see the best of the country. There was one subject I wanted to discuss but I dared not do that too frequently. The information I gleaned was always the same. Rudolph had been murdered by some political enemy and his mistress with him because she happened to be on the spot. There was never a mention of a child.

I visited the hunting cottage and gave the children rides on the horse. I talked to Gisela over rye bread and hot soup, for there always seemed to be a cauldron of it bubbling on the open fire in the living room. I met the other children: Gisela, Jacob and Max. Max was the baby and about two years old. Jacob was older than the twins and came somewhere in between Arnulf and Gisela. It was interesting and enjoyable, but I had a sole purpose and I was getting restive.

Daisy noticed it.

"Well, I don't know what you think you're going to find out," she said. "I reckon the secret's in higher circles than you'll find here. It's not in the forest, that's for sure. It's up there somewhere, I reckon. The answer will be with them up at the slosh."

"I do wish I could find out."

"Well, you won't get an invitation to the slosh by telling them you're Miss Philippa Ewell, sister of the dead lady, who's come to sort out the mystery. That's for sure."

She was right and the thought depressed me.

Then, just as I was beginning to despair and to feel that I had been foolish to hope just because of my initial success, I had an amazing stroke of luck.

It came through Hans.

I was sitting in the little garden with Daisy, and young Hans was running round on the small patch of lawn, taking water from a bucket and attempting to water the flowers which grew round the border. Daisy and I were laughing at his antics, for Hans himself got more water than the flowers, but he was so delighted with his work that we couldn't help joining in the merriment. Hans the elder was suddenly coming towards us.

"I thought I'd come home to tell you," he said, and he was looking directly at me. "It's like this. It's the Countess Freya ..."

"Who is she?" I asked.

"She is betrothed to Sigmund, the heir, and she is at the Grand Schloss, being brought up in the Grand Duke's household. She has been there ever since she was betrothed. It is the custom that these brides are brought up with their future husband's family. It is supposed to get them used to the ways and habits of their future homes."

"Yes, Hans, we know she's there," said Daisy impatiently.

"Miss Philippa didn't."

"No, that's true, and she's Miss Ayres while she's here, remember."

"Yes," said Hans. "I'm sorry. Well, what I've heard is that the Countess Freya has to improve her English. Her present governess has taught her something of the language but they reckon her accent is wrong, and they want an Englishwoman to put her right."

I was staring wildly at Hans as a hundred possibilities crossed my mind.

He nodded, smiling at me. "That's what I thought," he said. "If you got inside the schloss you'd be able to find out if there is anything in all this talk."

"Teaching English to the Countess," I murmured.

"What's this?" cried Daisy, and when it was translated for her she was as wildly excited as I was. "It's the very thing. You're getting tired of being here with nothing happening... . You'll be going away soon unless something does pretty quick. But to go there ... to the slosh, wouldn't that be a lark!"

"Oh Daisy, it would be so exciting."

"Now listen to me," said Hans, "if you thought you'd like to do it I'll go along to the comptroller of the Grand Duke's household. He's a friend of mine and a recommendation from me would go a long way. But you see, if they knew you were Miss Francine's sister—"

"Why should they?" demanded Daisy. "Oh, how right you were to come here as Miss Ayres."

"If you were found out I should say I knew nothing about it," said Hans quickly. "I'd say you were someone my wife knew and she'd heard you wanted to stay for a little, and as we could do with a little extra, you became a paying guest."

"That's right," said Daisy. "That fits the book."

"But, Daisy, you couldn't very well say you didn't know who I was."

"Let's cross that stile if ever we get to it. When I'm asked awkward questions I always say I don't speak the language."

"It's the great opportunity," I cried. "It's manna from heaven. I was just beginning to think how hopeless everything was and that I should never get anywhere ... and now this."

"So you're going to do it," said Daisy.

"Yes. Please Hans, will you speak for me?"

Hans was a cautious man, and I could see that he did not wish to be involved in anything that could bring him trouble.

"Why should you know who I am?" I persisted. "You had hardly ever seen me in England. I am here as Anne Ayres. Even Daisy hadn't seen me for five years. If I'm found out I'll say I knew Daisy was here and I came as Anne Ayres. But I really don't see why my true identity should be discovered."

"Of course it won't be." Daisy supported me. I could see she was as excited as I was.

Finally we agreed that I should try for the post. Hans went off to speak to the comptroller of the Grand Duke's household, and within a few days I was making my way to what was known as the Grand Schloss to be interviewed by the comptroller and the mistress of the household for the important task of instructing the august young lady in English.

A carriage had been sent to convey me to the schloss and when it arrived at the cottage Daisy and I regarded it with something like awe. Engraved on the side were the royal arms of Bruxenstein—crossed swords under a crown and the words which translated were "Advance to Victory."

I had debated with Daisy for a long time how I should dress, and we had decided that I should wear my plainest clothes and that my hair—which was rather unmanageable, yet at the same time was my only real claim to beauty because it was fine and very abundant—should be taken right off my face and gathered into a knot at the nape of my neck, which enabled my dark-blue straw hat to sit on top of my head in a demure fashion.

I wore a dark blue skirt and coat with a white blouse, and I thought I looked capable and as though I had never even heard there was such a thing in the world as frivolity.

Daisy clapped her hands when she saw me and I felt I had left Philippa Ewell behind me and taken on a new personality: Miss Anne Ayres.

A liveried footman helped me into the carriage and jumped up at the back of it, while the driver of the two fine bays whipped them up and we were off. I knew that Daisy would be watching us from the top window of the cottage, as excited as I was, for Daisy had often said, "I can't bear nothing to happen. I'd almost as soon have anything ... rather than nothing."

As we gambolled through the town a few people stopped to stare at the royal carriage, which they immediately recognized, and I fancied one or two of them, who were able to catch a glimpse of its occupant, were wondering who this plainly dressed and rather prim young woman could be.

We went past the guards at tie gate of the schloss, who looked very splendid in their light blue uniforms and splendid helmets with the pale red feathers in them, and their swords clanked at their sides as they saluted the royal coach.

We came into a courtyard, where we alighted, and I was conducted into a hall a good deal larger than the one in the hunting lodge, but built on the same lines with the vaulted roof and the thick stone walls into which stone benches had been cut.

A liveried servant appeared and told me to follow him. I did so into a small room which led from the hall.

"You will please to wait for a moment," he said.

I nodded and sat down.

Some five minutes elapsed before I heard footsteps in the hall and the door was opened. A man and woman came in.

I rose and inclined my head. They inclined theirs.

"You are Fraulein Ayres?" the man asked. "I am Herr Frutschen and this is Frau Strelitz."

I wished them good day, which greeting they returned in a most courteous manner.

I knew that Herr Frutschen was the comptroller of the household and the friend of Hans and I gathered that Frau Strelitz was the mistress of the household, and that she was the one I should have to impress if I were to get the post.

"You are from England?" she asked.

I agreed that I was.

"And you are seeking a post here?"

"I was not looking for a post, but I heard of this through Herr Schmidt and I thought I should like to do it."

"You are not a governess."

"No, I have never worked in such a post."

"You are very young."

My heart sank. Could it be that my demure hair style had not done for me what I had hoped it would?

"I am nearly eighteen years old."

"And you came to visit this country?"

"My grandmother left me money and I thought it would be a good idea to realize a long-standing ambition to see the world."

"So you intended to go on and your stay here was temporary?"

"I had no definite plans. I thought this would be interesting."

The comptroller looked at Frau Strelitz. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Your task would be to teach a young lady to speak English fluently. She has learned the language but has difficulty with the accent."

"I understand exactly."

The woman hesitated. "It would only be for a year ... no more. Until the Countess marries."

"I understand that."

"That will be in about a year's time. She is fifteen years old at the moment. The ceremony will very likely take place when she is sixteen."

I nodded.

"You have been well educated, I believe."

"I was educated by a governess who was half German, which I think accounts for my own command of the language."

"It is good, good," put in the comptroller, who clearly wanted me to be given the post because of his friendship with Hans.

"Yes," agreed Frau Strelitz, "it is good."

"Fraulein Ayres is a very well-educated lady," said the comptroller. "That is important for the right accent."

"This is a very important post," went on the woman. "You must understand, Fraulein Ayres, that your pupil will one day be the first lady in the land. She is to marry the Grand Duke's heir. That is why we have to be so careful."

"Of course," I said. "I understand perfectly."

"Your references from a previous employer—"

"I have no previous employer."

"Is there anyone who could vouch for you?"

I hesitated. I thought of Charles Daventry and the vicar. But they had never heard of Anne Ayres. There was Cousin Arthur. I wondered if I could explain to them.

I said, "At home, yes. I have friends ... and the vicar, if you wished... ."

"We shall leave you for a moment," said Frau Strelitz. "Please excuse us."

"Certainly."

They went out, shutting the door behind them. I was in a fever of impatience. Something told me that I must get this post, that if I did not there could be nothing to do but admit defeat and go home.

Good luck was with me. In ten minutes they came back. The comptroller was beaming.

The woman said, "We have decided to give you a trial, Fraulein Ayres. I hope you do not think we are being impolite. It is such an important post because of the young lady involved. She herself must be happy in our choice. We will give you a week's trial ... and then three weeks after that. If at the end of that time we find you suitable, then ..."

"Of course," I cried. "I understand."

"We have decided not to write to England for references," said the comptroller. "My friend, Herr Schmidt, tells us that you are a lady from a good family. That is what we want—in view of the rank of our young lady. Nor do we want someone who is looking for a more permanent post. So if you would care to start at the beginning of next week, that would be good. Now, shall we discuss remuneration?"

I knew there would be no difficulty about that. All I wanted was to get into the royal schloss.

I was driven back in the royal carriage. I rushed into the kitchen where Daisy was bending over the stove.

"I've got it!" I shouted. "Behold the English governess of the most important lady in the land!"

We danced round the kitchen and young Hans toddled out and seeing our gaiety joined in. We were breathless with laughter.

"This is the beginning," I said.