erebus knew her brother well; she perceived that she was confronted by what she called his obstinacy; and though his brazen-faced admission had raised her to the very height of amazement and horror, she uttered no protest. she knew that protest would be vain, that against his obstinacy she was helpless. she wrung her hands and turned aside into the wood, overwhelmed by his defection from one of their loftiest ideals.
then followed a period of strain. she assumed an attitude of very haughty contempt toward the errant pair, devoted herself to wiggins, and let them coldly alone. from this attitude wiggins was the chief sufferer: the terror had the princess and the princess had the terror; erebus enjoyed her display of haughty contempt, but wiggins missed the strenuous life, the rushing games, in which you yelled so heartily. as often as he could he stole away from the haughty erebus and joined the errant pair. it is to be feared that the princess found the kisses sweeter for the ban erebus had laid on them.
no one in the deepings suspected that the missing princess was on deeping knoll. there had been sporadic outbursts of suspicion that the twins had had a hand in her disappearance. but no one had any reason to suppose that they and the princess had even been acquainted. doctor arbuthnot, indeed, questioned both wiggins and the terror; but they were mindful of the fact that lady rowington (they were always very careful to address her as lady rowington) and not the princess, was at the knoll, and were thus able to assure him with sufficient truthfulness that they could not tell him where the princess was. the bursts of suspicion therefore were brief.
but there was one man in england in whom suspicion had not died down. suspicion is, indeed, hardly the word for the feeling of sir maurice falconer in the matter. when he first read in his morning post of the disappearance of the princess elizabeth of cassel-nassau from muttle deeping grange he said confidently to himself: “the twins again!” and to that conviction his mind clung.
it was greatly strengthened by a study of the reproduction of the socialist manifesto on the front page of an enterprising halfpenny paper. he told himself that socialists are an educated, even over-educated folk, and if one of them did set himself to draw a skull and cross-bones, the drawing would be, if not exquisite, at any rate accurate and unsmudged; that it was highly improbable that a socialist would spell desperate with two “a’s” in an important document without being corrected by a confederate. on the other hand the drawing of the skull and cross-bones seemed to him to display a skill to which the immature genius of the terror might easily have attained, while he could readily conceive that he would spell desperate with two “a’s” in any document.
but sir maurice was not a man to interfere lightly in the pleasures of his relations; and he would not have interfered at all had it not been for the international situation produced by the disappearance of the princess. as it was he was so busy with lunches, race meetings, dinners, theater parties, dances and suppers that he was compelled to postpone intervention till the sixth day, when every socialist organ and organization from san francisco eastward to japan was loudly disavowing any connection with the crime, the newspapers of england and germany were snarling and howling and roaring and bellowing at one another, and the foreign office and the german chancellery were wiring frequent, carefully coded appeals to each other to invent some plausible excuse for not mobilizing their armies and fleets. even then sir maurice, who knew too well the value of german press opinion, would not have interfered, had not the extremely active wife of a cabinet minister consulted him about the easiest way for her to sell twenty thousand pounds’ worth of consols. he disliked the lady so strongly that after telling her how she could best compass her design, he felt that the time had come to ease the international situation.
with this end in view he went down to little deeping. his conviction that the twins were responsible for the disappearance of the princess became certitude when he learned from mrs. dangerfield that they were encamped on deeping knoll, and had been there since the day before that disappearance. but he kept that certitude to himself, since it was his habit to do things in the pleasantest way possible.
he forthwith set out across the fields and walked through the home wood and park to muttle deeping grange. he gave his card to the butler and told him to take it straight to miss lambart, with whom he was on terms of friendship rather than of acquaintance; and in less than three minutes she came to him in the drawing-room.
she was looking anxious and worried; and as they shook hands he said: “is this business worrying you?”
“it is rather. you see, though the baroness von aschersleben was in charge of the princess, i am partly responsible. besides, since i’m english, they keep coming to me to have all the steps that are being taken explained; and they want the same explanation over and over again. since the archduke came it has been very trying. i think that he is more of an imbecile than any royalty i ever met.”
“i’m sorry to hear that they’ve been worrying you like this. if i’d known, i’d have come down and stopped it earlier,” said sir maurice in a tone of lively self-reproach.
“stop it? why, what can you do?” cried miss lambart, opening her eyes wide in her surprise.
“well, i have a strong belief that i could lead you to your missing princess. but it’s only a belief, mind. so don’t be too hopeful.”
miss lambart’s pretty face flushed with sudden hope:
“oh, if you could!” she cried.
“put on your strongest pair of shoes, for i think that it will be rough going part of the way, and order a motor-car, or carriage; if you can, for the easier part; and we’ll put my belief to the test,” said sir maurice briskly.
miss lambart frowned, and said in a doubtful tone: “i shan’t be able to get a carriage or car without a tiresome fuss. they’re very unpleasant people, you know. could we take the baroness with us? she’ll have to be carried in something.”
“is she very fat?”
“very.”
“then she’d never get to the place i have in mind,” said sir maurice.
“is it very far? couldn’t we walk to it?”
“it’s about three miles,” said sir maurice.
“oh, that’s nothing—at least not for me. but you?” said miss lambart, who had an utterly erroneous belief that sir maurice was something of a weakling.
“i can manage it. your companionship will stimulate my flagging limbs,” said sir maurice. “indeed, a real country walk on a warm and pleasant afternoon will be an experience i haven’t enjoyed for years.”
miss lambart was not long getting ready; and they set out across the park toward the knoll which rose, a rounded green lump, above the surface of the distant wood. sir maurice had once walked to it with the twins; and he thought that his memory of the walk helped by a few inquiries of people they met would take him to it on a fairly straight course. it was certainly very pleasant to be walking with such a charming companion through such a charming country.
as soon as they were free of the gardens miss lambart said eagerly: “where are we going to? where do you think the princess is?”
“you’ve been here a month. haven’t you heard of the dangerfield twins?” said sir maurice.
“oh, yes; we were trying to find children to play with the princess; and doctor arbuthnot mentioned them. but he said that they were not the kind of children for her, though they were the only high and well-born ones the baroness was clamoring for, in the neighborhood. he seemed to think that they would make her rebellious.”
“then the princess didn’t know them?” said sir maurice quickly.
“no.”
“i wonder,” said sir maurice skeptically.
“we found a little boy called rupert carrington to play with her—a very nice little boy,” said miss lambart.
“wiggins! the twins’ greatest friend! well, i’ll be shot!” cried sir maurice; and he laughed.
“but do you mean to say that you think that these children have something to do with the princess’ disappearance? how old are they?” said miss lambart in an incredulous tone, for fixed very firmly in her mind was the belief that the princess had been carried off by the socialists and foreigners.
“i never know whether they are thirteen or fourteen. but i do know that nothing out of the common happens in the deepings without their having a hand in it. i have the honor to be their uncle,” said sir maurice.
“but they’d never be able to persuade her to run away with them. she’s a timid child; and she has been coddled and cosseted all her life till she is delicate to fragility,” miss lambart protested.
“if it came to a matter of persuasion, my nephew would persuade the hind-leg, or perhaps even the fore-leg, off a horse,” said sir maurice in a tone of deep conviction. “but it would not necessarily be a matter of persuasion.”
“but what else could it be—children of thirteen or fourteen!” cried miss lambart.
“i assure you that it might quite easily have been force,” said sir maurice seriously. “my nephew and niece are encamped on deeping knoll. it is honeycombed with dry sand-stone caves for the most part communicating with one another. i can conceive of nothing more likely than that the idea of being brigands occurred to one or other of them; and they proceeded to kidnap the princess to hold her for ransom. they might lure her to some distance from the grange before they had recourse to force.”
“it sounds incredible—children,” said miss lambart.
“well, we shall see,” said sir maurice cheerfully. then he added in a more doubtful tone; “if only we can take them by surprise, which won’t be so easy as it sounds.”
miss lambart feared that they were on a wild goose chase. but it was a very pleasant wild goose chase; she was very well content to be walking with him through this pleasant sunny land. when presently he turned the talk to matters more personal to her, she liked it better still. he was very sympathetic: he sympathized with her in her annoyance at having had to waste so much of the summer on this tiresome corvée of acting as lady-in-waiting on the little princess; for, thanks to the domineering jealousy of the baroness, it had been a tiresome corvée indeed, instead of the pleasant occupation it might have been. he sympathized with her in her vexation that she had been prevented by that jealousy from improving the health or spirits of the princess.
he was warmly indignant when she told him of the behavior of the baroness and the archduke during the last few days. the baroness had tried to lay the blame of the disappearance of the princess on her; and the archduke, a vast, sun-shaped, billowy mass of fat, infuriated at having been torn from the summer ease of his schloss to dash to england, had been very rude indeed. she was much pleased by the warmth of sir maurice’s indignation; but she protested against his making any attempt to punish them, for she did not see how he could do it, without harming himself. but she agreed with him that neither the grand duke, nor the baroness deserved any consideration at her hands.
their unfailing flow of talk shortened the way; and they soon were in the broad aisle of the wood from which the narrow, thorn-blocked path led to the knoll. sir maurice recognized the path; but he did not take it. he knew that the twins were far too capable not to have it guarded, if the princess were indeed with them. he led the way into the wood on the right of it, and slowly, clearing the way for her carefully, seeing to it that she did not get scratched, or her frock get torn, he brought her in a circuit round to the very back of the knoll.
they made the passage in silence, careful not to tread on a twig, sir maurice walking a few feet in front, and all the while peering earnestly ahead through the branches. now and again a loud yell came from the knoll; and once a chorus of yells. finding that her coldness (the terror frankly called it sulking) had no effect whatever on her insensible brother or the insensible princess, erebus had put it aside; and the strenuous life was once more in full swing.
once after an uncommonly shrill and piercing yell miss lambart said in an astonished whisper:
“that was awfully like the princess’ voice.”
“i thought you said she was delicate,” said sir maurice.
“so she was,” said miss lambart firmly.
thanks to the careful noiselessness of their approach, they came unseen and unheard to the screen of a clump of hazels at the foot of the knoll, from which they could see the entrance of five caves in its face. they waited, watching it.
it was silent; there was no sign of life; and sir maurice was beginning to wonder whether they had, after all, been espied by his keen-eyed kin, when a little girl, with a great plait of very fair hair hanging down her back, came swiftly out of one of the bottom caves and slipped into a clump of bushes to the right of it.
“the princess!” said miss lambart; and she was for stepping forward, but sir maurice caught her wrist and checked her.
almost on the instant an amazingly disheveled wiggins appeared stealing in a crouching attitude toward the entrance to the cave.
“that nice little boy, rupert carrington,” said sir maurice.
wiggins had almost gained the entrance to the cave when, with an ear-piercing yell, the princess sprang upon him and locked her arms round his neck; they swayed, yelling in anything but unison, and came to the ground.
“delicate to fragility,” muttered sir maurice.
“whatever has she been doing to herself?” said miss lambart faintly, gazing at her battling yelling charge with amazed eyes.
“you don’t know the twins,” said sir maurice.
on his words erebus came flying down the face of the knoll at a breakneck pace, yelling as she came, and flung herself upon the battling pair. as far as the spectators could judge she and the princess were rending wiggins limb from limb; and they all three yelled their shrillest. then with a yell the terror leaped upon them from the cave and they were all four rolling on the ground while the aching welkin rang.
suddenly the tangle of whirling limbs was dissolved as erebus and wiggins tore themselves free, gained their feet and fled. the princess and the terror sat up, panting, flushed and disheveled. the princess wriggled close to the terror, snuggled against him, and put an arm round his neck.
“it was splendid!” she cried, and kissed him.
unaware of the watching eyes, he submitted to the embrace with a very good grace.
“well, i never!” said miss lambart.
“these delicate children,” said sir maurice. “but it’s certainly a delightful place for lovers. i’m so glad we’ve found it.”
he was looking earnestly at miss lambart; and she felt that she was flushing.
“come along!” she said quickly.
they came out of their clump, about fifteen yards from their quarry.
the quick-eyed terror saw them first. he did not stir; but a curious, short, sharp cry came from his throat. it seemed to loose a spring in the princess. she shot to her feet and stood prepared to fly, frowning. the terror rose more slowly.
“good afternoon, highness. i’ve come to take you back to the grange,” said miss lambart.
“i’m not going,” said the princess firmly.
“i’m afraid you must. your father is there; and he wants you,” said miss lambart.
“no,” said the princess yet more firmly; and she took a step sidewise toward the mouth of the cave.
the terror nodded amiably to his uncle and put his hands in his pockets; he wore the detached air of a spectator.
“but if you don’t come of yourself, we shall have to carry you,” said miss lambart sternly.
the terror intervened; he said in his most agreeable tone: “i don’t see how you can. you can’t touch a princess you know. it would be lèse-majesté. she’s told me all about it.”
the perplexity spread from the face of miss lambart to the face of sir maurice falconer; he smiled appreciatively. but he said: “oh, come; this won’t do, terror, don’t you know! her highness will have to come.”
“i don’t see how you’re going to get her. the only person who could use force is the prince himself, and i don’t think he could be got up to the knoll. he’s too heavy. i’ve seen him. and if you did get him up, i don’t really think he’d ever find her in these caves,” said the terror in the dispassionate tone of one discussing an entirely impersonal matter.
“anyhow, i’m not going,” said the princess with even greater firmness.
miss lambart and sir maurice gazed at each other in an equal perplexity.
“you see, there isn’t any real reason why she shouldn’t stay here,” said the terror. “she came to england to improve her health; and she’s improving it ever so much faster here than she did at the grange. you can see how improved it is. she eats nearly as much as erebus.”
“she has certainly changed,” said miss lambart in a tart tone which showed exactly how little she found it a change for the better.
“the twins have a transforming effect on the young,” said sir maurice in a tone of resignation.
“i am much better,” said the princess. “i’m getting quite strong, and i can run ever so fast.”
she stretched out a tanning leg and surveyed it with an air of satisfaction.
“but it’s nonsense!” said miss lambart.
“but what can you do?” said the terror gently.
“i’ll chance the lèse-majesté!” cried miss lambart; and she sprang swiftly forward.
the princess bolted into the cave and up it. miss lambart followed swiftly. the cave ended in a dim passage, ten feet down, the passage forked into three dimmer passages. miss lambart stopped short and tried to hear from which of them came the sound of the footfalls of the retiring princess. it came from none of the three; the floor of the eaves was covered with sound-deadening sand. miss lambart walked back to the entrance of the cave.
“she has escaped,” she said in a tone of resignation.
“well, i really don’t see any reason for you to put yourself about for the sake of that disagreeable crew at the grange. you have done more than you were called on to do in finding her. you can leave the catching of her to them. there’s nothing to worry about: it’s quite clear that this camping-out is doing her a world of good,” said sir maurice in a comforting tone.
“yes; there is that,” said miss lambart.
“let me introduce my nephew. hyacinth dangerfield—better, much better, known as the terror—to you,” said sir maurice.
the terror shook hands with her, and said: “how do you do? i’ve been wanting to know you: the princess—i mean lady rowington—likes you ever so much.”
miss lambart was appeased.
“perhaps you could give us some tea? we want it badly,” said sir maurice.
“yes, i can. we only drink milk and cocoa, of course. but we have some tea, for mum walked up to have tea with us yesterday,” said the terror.
“i take it that she saw nothing of the princess,” said sir maurice.
“oh, no; she didn’t see lady rowington. you must remember that she’s lady rowington here, and not the princess at all,” said the terror.
“oh? i see now how it was that when you were asked at home, you knew nothing about the princess,” said sir maurice quickly.
“yes; that was how,” said the terror blandly.
they had not long to wait for their tea, for the twins had had their kettle on the fire for some time. sir maurice and miss lambart enjoyed the picnic greatly. on his suggestion an armistice was proclaimed. miss lambart agreed to make no further attempt to capture the princess; and she came out of hiding and took her tea with them.
miss lambart was, indeed, pleased with, at any rate, the physical change in the princess, induced by her short stay at the knoll: she was a browner, brighter, stronger child. plainly, too, she was a more determined child; and while, for her own part, miss lambart approved of that change also, she was quite sure that it would not be approved by the princess’ kinsfolk and train. but she was somewhat distressed that the legs of the princess should be marred by so many and such deep scratches. she had none of the experienced twins’ quickness to see and dodge thorns. she took miss lambart’s sympathy lightly enough; indeed she seemed to regard those scratches as scars gained in honorable warfare.
miss lambart saw plainly that the billowy archduke would have no little difficulty in recovering her from this fastness; and since she was assured that this green wood life was the very thing the princess needed, she was resolved to give him no help herself. she was pleased to learn that she was in no way responsible for the princess’ acquaintance with the twins; that she had made their acquaintance and cultivated their society while the careless baroness slept in the peach-garden.
at half past five sir maurice and miss lambart took their leave of their entertainers and set out through the wood. they had not gone a hundred yards before a splendid yelling informed them that the strenuous life had again begun.
miss lambart had supposed that they would return straight to muttle deeping grange with the news of their great discovery. but she found that sir maurice had formed other plans. they were both agreed that no consideration was owing to the billowy archduke. his manners deprived him of any right to it. accordingly, he took her to little deeping post-office, and with many appeals to her for suggestions and help wrote two long telegrams. the first was to the editor of the morning post, the second was to the prime minister. in both he set forth his discovery of the princess happily encamped with young friends in a wood, and her reasons for running away to them. the postmistress despatched them as he wrote them, that they might reach london and ease the international situation at once. since both the editor and the prime minister were on friendly and familiar terms with him, there was no fear that the telegrams would fail of their effect.
then he took miss lambart to colet house, to make the acquaintance of mrs. dangerfield, and to inform her how nearly the twins had plunged europe into armageddon. mrs. dangerfield received the news with unruffled calm. she showed no surprise at all; she only said that she had found it very strange that a princess should vanish at muttle deeping and the twins have no hand in it. she perceived at once that the princess had quite prevented any disclosure by assuming the name of lady rowington.
miss lambart found her very charming and attractive, and was in no haste to leave such pleasant companionship for the dull and unpleasant atmosphere of muttle deeping grange. it was past seven therefore when the little deeping fly brought her to it; and she went to the archduke with her news.
she found him in the condition of nervous excitement into which he always fell before meals, too excited, indeed, to listen to her with sufficient attention to understand her at the first telling of her news. he was some time understanding it, and longer believing it. it annoyed him greatly. he was taking considerable pleasure in standing on a pedestal before the eyes of europe as the bereaved hohenzollern sire. his first, and accurate, feeling was that europe would laugh consumedly when it learned the truth of the matter. his second feeling was that his noble kinsman, who had been saying wonderful, stirring things about the terror’s manifesto and the stolen princess, would be furiously angry with him.
he began to rave himself, fortunately in his own tongue of which miss lambart was ignorant. then when he grew cooler and paler his oft-repeated phrase was: “eet must be ’ushed!”
miss lambart did not tell him that sir maurice had taken every care that the affair should not be hushed up. she did not wish every blow to strike him at once. then the dinner-bell rang; and in heavy haste he rolled off to the dining-room.
miss lambart was betaking herself to her bedroom to dress, when the archduke’s equerry, the young mustached count zerbst came running up the stairs, bidding her in the name of his master come to dinner at once, as she was. she took no heed of the command, dressed at her ease, and came down just as the archduke, perspiring freely after his struggle with the hors-d’oeuvres, soup and fish, was plunging upon his first entrée.
he ate it with great emphasis; and as he ate it he questioned her about the place where his daughter was encamped and the friends she was encamped with. miss lambart described the knoll and its position as clearly as she could, and of the twins she said as little as possible. then he asked her with considerable acerbity why she had not exercised her authority and brought the princess back with her.
miss lambart said that she had no authority over the princess; and that if she had had it, the princess would have disregarded it wholly, and that it was impossible to haul a recalcitrant hohenzollern through miles of wood by force, since the persons of hohenzollerns were sacrosanct.
the archduke said that the only thing to do was to go himself and summon home his truant child. miss lambart objected that it would mean hewing expensively a path through the wood wide enough to permit his passage, and it was improbable that the owner of the wood would allow it. thereupon the baroness volunteered to go. miss lambart with infinite pleasure explained that for her too an expensive path must be hewn, and went on to declare that if they reached the knoll, there was not the slightest chance of their finding the princess in its caves.
the archduke frowned and grunted fiercely in his perplexity. then he struck the table and cried:
“count zerbst shall do eet! to-morrow morning! you shall ’eem lead to ze wood. ’e shall breeng ’er.”
miss lambart protested that to wander in the deeping woods with a german count would hardly be proper.
“brobare? what ees ‘brobare’?” said the archduke.
“convenable,” said miss lambart.
the archduke protested that such considerations must not be allowed to militate against his being set free to return to cassel-nassau at the earliest possible moment. miss lambart said that they must. in the end it was decided that a motor-car should be procured from rowington and that miss lambart should guide the archduke and the count to the entrance of the path to the knoll, the count should convey to the princess her father’s command to return to the grange, and if she should refuse to obey, he should haul her by force to the car.
miss lambart made no secret of her strong conviction that he would never set eyes, much less hands, on the princess. count zerbst’s smooth pink face flushed rose-pink all round his fierce little mustache, which in some inexplicable, but unfortunate, fashion accentuated the extraordinary insignificance of his nose; his small eyes sparkled; and he muttered fiercely something about “sdradegy.” he looked at miss lambart very unamiably. he felt that she was not impressed by him as were the maidens of cassel-nassau; and he resented it. he resolved to capture the princess at any cost.
the archduke fumed furiously to find, next morning in the morning post the true story of his daughter’s disappearance; and he was fuming still when the car came from rowington. it was a powerful car and a weight-carrier; miss lambart, who had telephoned for it, had been careful to demand a weight-carrier. with immense fuss the archduke disposed himself in the back of the tonneau which he filled with billowy curves. the moment he was settled in it miss lambart sprang to the seat beside the driver, and insisted on keeping it that she might the more easily direct his course.
they were not long reaching the wood; and the chauffeur raised no objection to taking the car up the broad turfed aisle from which ran the path to the knoll. at the entrance of it the count stepped out of the car; and the archduke gave him his final instructions with the air of a roman father; he was to bring the princess in any fashion, but he was to bring her at once.
in a last generous outburst he cried: “pooll ’er by the ear! bud breeng ’er.”
the count said that he would, and entered the path with a resolute and martial air. miss lambart was not impressed by it. she thought that in his tight-fitting clothes of military cut and his apparently tighter-fitting patent leather boots he looked uncommonly out of place under the green wood trees. she remembered how lightly the twins and the princess went; and she had the poorest expectation of his getting near any of them. also, as they had come up the aisle of the woods she had been assailed by a late but serious doubt, whether a weight-carrying motor-car was quite the right kind of vehicle in which to approach the lair of the twins with hostile intent. its powerful, loud-throbbing engine had seemed to her to advertise their advent with all the competence of a trumpet.
her doubt was well-grounded. the quick ears of erebus were the first to catch its throbbing note, and that while it was still two hundred yards from the entrance of the path to the knoll. ever since the departure of miss lambart and sir maurice the twins had been making ready against invasion, conveying their provisions and belongings to the secret caves.
the secret caves had not been secret before the coming of the twins to the knoll. they were high up on the outer face of it, airy and well lighted by two inaccessible holes under an overhanging ledge. but the entrance to them was by a narrow shaft which rose sharply from a cave in the heart of the knoll. on this shaft the twins had spent their best pains for two and a half wet days the year before; and they had reduced some seven or eight feet of it to a passage fifteen inches high and eighteen inches broad. the opening into this passage could, naturally, be closed very easily; and then, in the dim light, it was hard indeed to distinguish it from the wall of the cave. it had been a somewhat difficult task to get their blankets and provisions through so narrow a passage; but it had been finished soon after breakfast.
they were on the alert for invaders; and as soon as they were quite sure that the keen ears of erebus had made no mistake and that a car was coming up the board aisle, the princess and the terror squirmed their way up to the secret caves; and erebus closed the passage behind them, and with small chunks filled in the interstices between the larger pieces of stone so that it looked more than ever a part of the wall of the cave. then she betook herself to a point of vantage among the bushes on the face of the knoll, from which she could watch the entrance of the path and the coming of the invaders.
the archduke, lying back at his ease in the car, and smoking an excellent cigar, spoke with assurance of catching the one-fifteen train from rowington to london and the night boat from dover to calais. miss lambart wasted no breath encouraging him in an expectation based on the efforts of count zerbst on the knoll. she stepped out of the car and strolled up and down on the pleasant turf. presently she saw a figure coming down the aisle from the direction of little deeping; when it came nearer, with considerable pleasure she recognized sir maurice.
when he came to them she presented him to the archduke as the discoverer of his daughter’s hiding-place. the archduke, mindful of the fact that sir maurice had given the true story of the disappearance to the world, received him ungraciously. miss lambart at once told sir maurice of the errand of count zerbst and of her very small expectation that anything would come of it. sir maurice agreed with her; and the fuming archduke assured them that the count was the most promising soldier in the army of cassel-nassau. then sir maurice suggested that they should go to the knoll and help the count. miss lambart assented readily; and they set out at once. they skirted the barriers of thorns in the path and came to the knoll. it was quiet and seemed utterly deserted.
they called loudly to the count several times; but he did not answer. miss lambart suggested that he was searching the caves and that they should find him and help him search them; they plunged into the caves and began to hunt for him. they did not find the count; neither did they find the princess nor the twins. they shouted to him many times as they traversed the caves; but they had no answer.
this was not unnatural, seeing that he left the knoll just before they reached it. he had mounted the side of it, calling loudly to the princess. he had gone through half a dozen caves, calling loudly to the princess. no answer had come to his calling. he had kept coming out of the labyrinth on to the side of the knoll. at one of these exits, to his great joy, he had seen the figure of a little girl, dressed in the short serge skirt and blue jersey he had been told the princess was wearing, slipping through the bushes at the foot of the knoll. with a loud shout he had dashed down it in pursuit and plunged after her into the wood. her sunbonnet was still in sight ahead among the bushes, and by great good fortune he succeeded in keeping it in sight. once, indeed, when he thought that he had lost it for good and all, it suddenly reappeared ahead of him; and he was able to take up the chase again. but he did not catch her. indeed he did not lessen the distance between them to an extent appreciable by the naked eye. for a delicate princess she was running with uncommon speed and endurance. considering his dress and boots and the roughness of the going, he, too, was running with uncommon speed and endurance. it was true that his face was a very bright red and that his so lately stiff, tall, white collar lay limply gray round his neck. but he was not near enough to his quarry to be mortified by seeing that she was but faintly flushed by her efforts and hardly perspiring at all. all the while he was buoyed up by the assurance that he would catch her in the course of the next hundred yards.
then his quarry left the wood, by an exceedingly small gap, and ran down a field path toward the village of little deeping. by the time the count was through the gap she had a lead of a hundred yards. to his joy, in the open country, on the smoother path, he made up the lost ground quickly. when they reached the common, he was a bare forty yards behind her. he was not surprised when in despair she left the path and bolted into the refuge of an old house that stood beside it.
mopping his hot wet brow he walked up the garden path with a victorious air, and knocked firmly on the door. sarah opened it; and he demanded the instant surrender of the princess. sarah heard him with an exasperating air of blank bewilderment. he repeated his demand more firmly and loudly.
sarah called to mrs. dangerfield: “please, mum: ’ere’s a furrin gentleman asking for a princess. i expect as it’s that there missing one.”
“do nod mock! she ’ees ’ere!” cried the count fiercely.
then mrs. dangerfield came out of the dining-room where she had been arranging flowers, and came to the door.
“the princess is not here,” she said gently.
“but i haf zeen ’er! she haf now ad once coom! she ’ides!” cried the count.
at that moment erebus came down the hall airily swinging her sunbonnet by its strings. the eyes of the count opened wide; so did his mouth.
“i expect he means me. at least he’s run after me all the way from the knoll here,” said erebus in a clear quiet voice.
the count’s eyes returned to their sockets; and he had a sudden outburst of fluent german. he did not think that any of his hearers could understand that portion of his native tongue he was using; he hoped they could not; he could not help it if they did.
mrs. dangerfield looked from him to erebus thoughtfully. she did not suppose for a moment that it was mere accident that had caused the count to take so much violent exercise on such a hot day. she was sorry for him. he looked so fierce and young and inexperienced to fall foul of the twins.
erebus caught her mother’s thoughtful eye. at once she cried resentfully: “how could i possibly tell it was the sunbonnet which made him think i was the princess? he never asked me who i was. he just shouted once and ran after me. i was hurrying home to get some salad oil and get back to the knoll by lunch.”
“yes, you would run all the way,” said mrs. dangerfield patiently.
“well, you’d have run, too, mum, with a foreigner running after you! just look at that mustache! it would frighten anybody!” cried erebus in the tone of one deeply aggrieved by unjust injurious suspicions.
“yes, i see,” said her mother with undiminished patience.
she invited the count to come in and rest and get cool; and she allayed his fine thirst with a long and very grateful whisky and soda. he explained to her at length, three times, how he had come to mistake erebus for the flying princess, for he was exceedingly anxious not to appear foolish in the eyes of such a pretty woman. erebus left them together; she made a point of taking a small bottle of salad oil to the knoll. they had no use for salad oil indeed; but it had been an after-thought, and she owed it to her conscience to take it. that would be the safe course.
in the meantime the archduke was sitting impatiently in the car, looking frequently at his watch. he had expected the count to return with the princess in, at the longest, a quarter of an hour. then he had expected miss lambart and sir maurice to return with the count and the princess in, at the longest, a quarter of an hour. none of them returned. the princess was sitting on a heap of bracken in the highest of the secret caves, and the terror was taking advantage of this enforced quiet retirement to brush out her hair. the count sat drinking whisky and soda and explained to mrs. dangerfield that he had not really been deceived by the sunbonnet and that he was very pleased that he had been deceived by it, since it had given him the pleasure of her acquaintance. miss lambart and sir maurice sat on a bank and talked seriously about everything and certain other things, but chiefly about themselves and each other.
so the world wagged as the archduke saw the golden minutes which lay between him and the one-fifteen slipping away while his daughter remained uncaught. he chafed and fumed. his vexation grew even more keen when he came to the end of his cigar and found that the thoughtless count had borne away the case. he appealed to the chauffeur for advice; but the chauffeur, a native of rowington and ignorant of beaumarchais, could give him none.
at half past twelve the archduke rose to his full height in the car, bellowed: “zerbst! zerbst! zerbst!” and sank down again panting with the effort.
the chauffeur looked at him with compassionate eyes. the archduke’s bellow, for all his huge round bulk, was but a thin and reedy cry. no answer came to it; no one came from the path to the knoll.
“p’raps if i was to give him a call, your grace,” said the chauffeur, somewhat complacent at displaying his knowledge of the right way to address an archduke.
“yes, shout!” said the archduke quickly.
the chauffeur rose to his full height in the car and bellowed: “zerbst! zerbst! zerbst!”
no answer came to the call; no one came from the path to the knoll.
in three minutes the archduke was grinding his teeth in a black fury.
then with an air of inspiration he cried: “i shout—you shout—all ad vonce!”
“every little ’elps,” said the chauffeur politely.
with that they both rose to their full height in the car and together bellowed: “zerbst! zerbst! zerbst!”
no answer came to it; no one came from the path to the knoll.
on his sunny bank on the side of the knoll sir maurice said carelessly: “he seems to be growing impatient.”
“he isn’t calling us. and it’s no use our going back without either the princess or the count,” said miss lambart quickly.
“not the slightest,” said sir maurice; and he drew her closer, if that were possible, to him and kissed her.
to this point had their cooperation in the search for the princess and their discussion of everything and certain other things ripened their earlier friendship. they, or rather sir maurice, had even been discussing the matter of being married at an early date.
“i don’t think i shall let you go back to the grange at all. they don’t treat you decently, you know—not even for royalties,” he went on.
“oh, it wouldn’t do not to go back—at any rate for to-night—though, of course, there’s no point in my staying longer, since the princess isn’t there,” said miss lambart.
“you don’t know: perhaps zerbst has caught her by now and is hauling her to her circular sire,” said sir maurice. “the twins can not be successful all the time.”
“we ought to go and search those caves thoroughly,” said miss lambart.
“that wouldn’t be the slightest use,” said sir maurice in a tone of complete certainty. “if the princess is in the caves, she is not in an accessible one. but as a matter of fact she is quite as likely, or even likelier, to be at the grange. the twins are quite intelligent enough to hide princesses in the last place you would be likely to look for them. it’s no use our worrying ourselves about her; besides, we’re very comfortable here. why not stay just as we are?”
they stayed there.
but the archduke’s impatience was slowly rising to a fury as the minutes that separated him from the one-fifteen slipped away. at ten minutes to one he was seized by a sudden fresh fear lest the searchers should be so long returning as to make him late for lunch; and at once he despatched the chauffeur to find them and bring them without delay.
the chauffeur made no haste about it. he had heard of the caves on deeping knoll and had always been curious to see them. besides, he made it a point of honor not to smoke on duty; he had not had a pipe in his mouth since eleven o’clock; and he felt now off duty. he explored half a dozen caves thoroughly before he came upon miss lambart and sir maurice and gave them the archduke’s message. they joined him in his search for count zerbst, going through the caves and calling to him loudly.
the one-fifteen had gone; and the hour of lunch was perilously near. the face of the archduke was dark with the dread that he would be late for it. there was a terrifying but sympathetic throbbing not far from his solar plexus.
every two or three minutes he rose to his full height in the car and bellowed: “zerbst! zerbst! zerbst!”
still no answer came to the call; no one came from the path to the knoll.
then at the very moment at which on more fortunate days he was wont to sink heavily, with his mouth watering, into a large chair before a gloriously spread german table, he heard the sound of voices; and the chauffeur, miss lambart and sir maurice came out of the path to the knoll.
they told the duke that they had neither seen nor heard anything of the princess, her hosts, or count zerbst. the archduke cursed his equerry wheezily but in the german tongue, and bade the chauffeur get into the car and drive to the grange as fast as petrol could take him.
sir maurice bade miss lambart good-by, saluted the archduke, and the car went bumping down the turfed aisle. once in the road the chauffeur, anxious to make trial at an early moment of the archducal hospitality, let her rip. but half a mile down the road, they came upon a slow-going, limping wayfarer. it was count zerbst. after a long discussion with mrs. dangerfield he had decided that since erebus had slipped away back to the knoll, it would be impossible for him to find his way to it unguided; and he had set out for muttle deeping grange. in the course of his chase of erebus and his walk back his patent leather boots had found him out with great severity; and he was indeed footsore. he stepped into the grateful car with a deep sigh of relief.
a depressed party gathered round the luncheon table; miss lambart alone was cheerful. the archduke had been much shaken by his terrors and disappointments of the morning. count zerbst had acquired a deep respect for the intelligence of the young friends of the princess; and he had learned from mrs. dangerfield, who had discussed the matter with sir maurice, that since her stay at the knoll was doing the princess good, and was certainly better for her than life with the crimson baroness at the grange, she was not going to annoy and discourage her charitable offspring by interfering in their good work for trivial social reasons. the baroness was bitterly angry at their failure to recover her lost charge.
they discussed the further measures to be taken, the archduke and the baroness with asperity, count zerbst gloomily. he made no secret of the fact that he believed that, if he dressed for the chase and took to the woods, he would in the end find and capture the princess, but it might take a week or ten days. the archduke cried shame upon a strategist of his ability that he should be baffled by children for a week or ten days. count zerbst said sulkily that it was not the children who would baffle him, but the caves and the woods they were using. at last they began to discuss the measure of summoning to their aid the local police; and for some time debated whether it was worth the risk of the ridicule it might bring upon them.
miss lambart had listened to them with distrait ears since she had something more pleasant to give her mind to. but at last she said with some impatience: “why can’t the princess stay where she is? that open-air life, day and night, is doing her a world of good. she is eating lots of good food and taking ten times as much exercise as ever she took in her life before.”
“eembossible! shall i live in a cave?” cried the baroness.
“it doesn’t matter at all where you live. it is the princess we are considering,” said miss lambart unkindly, for she had come quite to the end of her patience with the baroness.
“drue!” said the archduke quickly.
“shall eet zen be zat ze princess live ze life of a beast in a gave?” cried the baroness.
“she isn’t,” said miss lambart shortly. “in fact she’s leading a far better and healthier and more intelligent life than she does here. the doctor’s orders were never properly carried out.”
“ees zat zo?” said the archduke, frowning at the baroness.
“eengleesh doctors! what zey know? modern!” cried the baroness scornfully.
in loud and angry german the archduke fell furiously upon the baroness, upbraiding her for her disobedience of his orders. the baroness defended herself loudly, alleging that the princess would by now be dying of a galloping consumption had she had all the air and water the doctors had ordered her. but the archduke stormed on. at last he had some one on whom he could vent his anger with an excellent show of reason; and he vented it.
presently, for the sake of miss lambart’s counsel in the matter, they returned to the english tongue and discussed seriously the matter of the princess remaining at the knoll. they found many objections to it, and the chief of them was that it was not safe for three children to be encamped by themselves in the heart of a wood.
miss lambart grew tired of assuring them that the twins were more efficient persons than nine germans out of ten; and at last she said:
“well, highness, to set your fears quite at rest, i will go and stay at the knoll myself. then you can go back to cassel-nassau with your mind at ease; and i will undertake that the princess comes to you in better health than if she had stayed on here.”
“bud ’ow would she be zafer wiz a young woman, ignorant and—” cried the baroness, furious at this attempt to usurp her authority.
“goot!” cried the archduke cutting her short; and his face beamed at the thought of escaping forthwith to his home. “eet shall be zo! and ze baroness shall go alzo to cassel-nassau zo zoon az i zend a lady who do as ze doctors zay.”
so it was settled; and miss lambart was busy for an hour collecting provisions, arranging that fresh provisions should be brought to the path to the knoll every morning and preparing and packing the fewest possible number of garments she would need during her stay.
then she bade the relieved archduke good-by; and set out in the rowington car to the knoll. not far from the park gates she met sir maurice strolling toward the grange, and took him with her. at the entrance of the path to the knoll they took the baskets of provisions and miss lambart’s trunk from the car, and dismissed it. then they went to the knoll.
it was silent; there were no signs of the presence of man about it. but after sir maurice had shouted three times that they came in peace-bearing terms, erebus and wiggins came out of one of the caves above them and heard the news. she made haste to bear it to the terror and the princess who received it with joy. they had already been cooped up long enough in the secret caves and were eager to plunge once more into the strenuous life. they welcomed miss lambart warmly; and the princess was indeed pleased to have her fears removed and her position at the knoll secure.
they made miss lambart one of themselves and admitted her to a full share of the strenuous life. she played her part in it manfully. even erebus, who was inclined to carp at female attainments, was forced to admit that as a brigand, an outlaw, or a pirate she often shone.
but sir maurice, who was naturally a frequent visitor, never caught her engaged in the strenuous life. indeed, on his arrival she disappeared; and always spent some minutes after his arrival removing traces of the speed at which she had been living it, and on cooling down to life on the lower place. both of them found the knoll a delightful place for lovers.
