On the Night of the Seventh Moon (35 page)

That pleased him. He put the hat on again, and went off to finish the lesson.

I picked up the arrow. The point was sharp. It had to be, of course, to hit the target. What struck me was that there was a faint discoloration at the tip. I wondered what it was.

I thought no more about it then, for a few hours later news came that the Duke was dead.

All the flags in the town were flying at half mast.

“Of course it had to come,” said Frau Graben. “This will make a difference to our Prince. My goodness he'll be busy for a few days. And then of course there'll be the funeral. That will be an occasion for sure.”

 

A disturbing incident happened. The following afternoon Dagobert went into the forest on his new mount. We were unperturbed during the first hour or so when he didn't return but when it grew dark and he had still not come back we grew alarmed.

Frau Graben sent the servants out to look for him. Herr Prinzstein the coachman formed a party which he divided into two and they went off in spearate ways.

We sat together in Frau Graben's little sitting room and anxiously talked of what could have happened to him.

Fritz came in and said: “My hat's gone. My magic hat. I've looked everywhere.”

“You can't fret about a hat when your brother's lost,” said Frau Graben.

“I can,” said Fritz. “I think he's taken it.”

“Oh, Fritz, why do you say that?” I asked.

“He's always trying to take it.”

“Never mind about the hat,” I said. “Let's think of Dagobert. Have you any idea where he's gone?”

“He likes to ride out to the Island of Graves.”

While we were worrying over the mystery of what had happened to Dagobert there was a shout from outside. “He's here.”

We rushed out and there was Dagobert, hatless and sheepish. He had a wild story to tell. He had been kidnapped.

Frau Graben said: “Never mind about that now. You're damp.”

“It was misty,” said Dagobert.

“So we'll get those clothes off and you'll get in a hot bath with mustard. That's it. You can't beat mustard. And some of my soup and cordial.”

Dagobert was bursting to tell of his adventures but he was shivering with cold so he allowed himself to be immersed in the mustard bath, and it was later when wrapped in a warm dressing gown after having drunk hot soup, that he told us what had happened.

“I was in the forest,” he said, “when two men came up to me. They had masks on their faces. One of them came on either side of me and they got hold of my horse's bridle. I wasn't frightened. I said: ‘Who are you. I'll kill you if you touch me.' So I drew my sword . . .”

“Now, Dagobert,” said Frau Graben, “no stories please. We want to know what really happened.”

“It was a sort of a sword . . .”

“You know it was nothing of the sort. Now tell us what really happened.”

“They made me get off my horse and I lost . . . my hat, and I said I must find my hat . . .”

“Your father will want to know what really happened,” said Frau
Graben, “so you'd better try to remember. And no stories about swords because you haven't got one.”

Dagobert regarded us soberly. “They led my horse away right into the forest where the trees were thick. It was near the lake, and I think they were going to kill me, honestly, miss, honestly, Frau Graben. And I was frightened because I'd lost the hat and the magic wouldn't be there without it.”

I said: “You were wearing Fritz's hat?”

“Well, I thought he wouldn't mind just once . . . and I said, ‘I've lost Fritz's hat. Miss bought it for him. I must find it because it's not mine. I only borrowed it.' And they said: ‘You
are
Fritz and it's your hat.' And I said ‘No, I'm Dagobert.' Then they whispered together and after a long while they let me go.”

“My goodness,” said Frau Graben, “it must have been someone playing a sort of game. There are people who think that kind of thing funny. I'd flay them alive. Frightening the life out of people.”

“Oh, I wasn't frightened,” said Dagobert. “I would have killed them both. I soon escaped. It was only because I lost my way in the mist that I was late.”

We let him go on boasting of what he would have done. I was silent, so was Frau Graben.

A sudden fear had taken possession of me.

 

When the children were in bed I went down to Frau Graben's sitting room.

She was sitting thoughtfully staring into the fire.

“Oh, Miss Trant,” she said, with that little smirk which always appeared when she used my name, “I was just thinking of coming up to you.”

“What do you make of it?” I asked.

“You never know with Dagobert. He might have decided not to come in, have forgotten the time and then tried to make excuses about masked men.”

“Oh, I don't think so.”

“You believe two masked men really took him away. For what purpose?”

“Because they thought he was Fritz.”

She stared at me in blank amazement. “But why Fritz?”

“I don't know. But he was wearing Fritz's hat. Now Fritz has rarely been seen without that hat since I gave it to him. It's possible that seeing Dagobert riding in the forest wearing it, these men thought he was Fritz.”

“That's very likely true but why should they want to take Fritz away?”

“I don't understand it. Frau Graben will you come to my room. I want to show you something.”

When we were there I took the arrow out of a drawer and laid it on the bed.

“What's this, dear?”

“It's an arrow which was aimed at Fritz. The hat I bought him stopped its penetrating his skin.”

“It's one of the arrows they use for their practice.”

“Yes, and it was aimed at Fritz while they were doing their practice in the courtyard.”

“Who aimed it?”

“I don't know. I wish I did.”

“They wouldn't do much harm surely.”

“In certain circumstances they could.”

“You're being a bit mysterious, Miss Trant.”

“Look closely at the tip. That's the part that penetrated Fritz's hat. Do you notice the tip?”

She bent over it and when she raised her eyes to mine her expression had lost its habitual coziness.

“Why,” she said, “it's been dipped in something.”

“Do you know what?”

“I've an idea. I remember in the old days they used to hunt the
wild boars and stags with arrows. They dipped the tips in some sort of solution . . .”

“Poison,” I said.

She nodded. “I've seen them. It leaves a stain like this.”

I felt rather uneasy. “If someone deliberately aimed a poison arrow at Fritz; if two men tried to kidnap him, what does it mean?”

“You tell me, Miss Trant, for I can't say.”

“I wish I knew.”

“Perhaps we're mistaken about that stain. It could have been something else. The children do aim rather wildly now and then. Someone might have hit Fritz unintentionally.”

“And then tried to kidnap him?”

“But it was Dagobert.”

“Dagobert in mistake for Fritz.”

“Well, miss, it does sound a bit like romancing to me.”

“I think these two things happening together make it too much of a coincidence.”

“What can we do about it?”

“We must watch over Fritz. We must make sure that any other attempt does not succeed. That hat I bought for him has saved him twice. It's been a warning to us, or so it seems. And if we are wrong, if the arrow was just a stray shot and the discoloration was not made by poison, if it was merely two bandits who decided to kidnap one of the Count's sons and then thought better of it, well then no harm will be done.”

“I can see that you are really concerned, Miss Trant. You can rest assured that I will do everything I can to help you watch over Fritz.”

 

A letter came from Maximilian. He wanted to see me at the royal
Schloss
and Frau Graben was to come with me. He thought it would be less conspicuous if we came together.

Frau Graben was beaming with satisfaction when she came to my room.

“A command from the Duke,” she chuckled. “I thought that wouldn't be long in coming. We'll leave in half an hour. Pastor Kratz will stay here with the children for the morning and Frieda's a good girl. I've told her to keep her eyes on them. You can trust Frieda. It's always a good thing to have wives and husbands working for the same household. It makes a certain stability, or that's my experience.”

She went on to tell me how Prinzstein the coachman had asked if there was a place for his wife Frieda and how she had decided that there was work enough in the fortress for her because Ella had developed an unexpected talent for the concocting of wine and cordials and she could make use of that.

I believed she was talking just to tease me. She knew how impatient I was to prepare for the journey.

We skirted the town and took the road up to the ducal
Schloss.
I had never been so near it before, having seen it only from the windows of Klocksburg and from the town.

As we approached I was aware of its magnificence. It seemed to rise out of a wooded park and one wall seemed like a continuation of the mountainside. Above us loomed the great towers and turrets; impregnable in gray stone which had stood against time for hundreds of years. I looked up at the
Katzenturm
and imagined the boiling oil tumbling down on any invaders.

At the gates of the castle soldiers in their uniforms stood on duty. They glared at us as our carriage approached and when Frau Graben called out “Hello, Sergeant!” I saw them visibly relax.

“We're here on orders,” she cried and we were allowed to pass through the gates and into a courtyard.

“My goodness,” chuckled Frau Graben, “this reminds me of old times. You see that window? That's where my nurseries were.”

I thought: There is a child up there now. His child! Perhaps he is watching us. He in his turn has become the heir to all this.

Frau Graben walked with the confidence of one who knows her way. More soldiers stood at attention at the great oak door. They looked at us intently. Frau Graben grinned at them and I saw the answering response.
Her position at the
Schloss
in the old days must have given her special privileges.

“We've had orders to come here,” she announced.

A soldier came forward. I remembered Sergeant Franck who had been present when I first saw the Processional Cross.

He bowed to us both.

“Will you come this way, ladies?” he asked.

Frau Graben nodded. “And how are the children?” she asked. “And the new baby?”

“Everything is well.”

“And Frau Franck?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“Was it a good confinement?”

“Fairly comfortable. It was because she was not so much afraid this time.”

Frau Graben nodded. “This is the hunting room,” she said.

I realized that. There were implements on the wall—guns and spears and the heads of stuffed animals. The hunting room in the
Randhausburg
at Klocksburg was a replica of this one. We went through another room and another. The ceilings were lofty; each had the old Gothic paneling and circular windows—some with window seats—looking over the town and beyond the valley to Klocksburg.

In the
Rittersaal
there was a huge pillar round which had been painted a tree so lifelike that it looked like a real one. I noticed that lettering in red and green had been added.

Seeing me look at it Frau Graben explained. “It's the family tree. The male line is in scarlet, the female in green.”

Had I not been so eager to see Maximilian I should have enjoyed examining that tree. I told myself that in the near future I should have an opportunity of doing so, and that my name would be added to it.

We mounted a staircase and facing us was a door on which was painted the royal arms and the flag of the country.

These were the ducal apartments.

Sergeant Franck opened the door and we were in a thickly carpeted
corridor. Frau Graben was invited to step into a room which she did with a grimace and I was alone with Sergeant Franck.

He led me along the corridor to a door; he knocked; Maximilian bade him enter. The door was opened and Sergeant Franck clicking his heels and bowing smartly announced that I was there.

Then the door shut on me and we flew to each other and clung together with that wonder which the appearance of each other never failed to inspire.

“I had to see you,” he said at length. “Hence this ceremony. Nothing I can do avoids it now.”

His presence banished the faint depression which my walk through the castle to this room had given me. When I had passed the soldiers at the gate and entered the great rooms I had felt years of tradition close in on me. I understood then how difficult it was going to be for Maximilian to bring me forward as his wife when his people believed him to be married to Wilhelmina. I understood then how right it was—particularly at this time—to preserve a secrecy.

He held me against him. “It seems so long, Lenchen.”

“A day and a night is like a year when you are not with me.”

“It shall not be so much longer. When the funeral obsequies are over then I must act.”

“Be careful, my love. Remember that you are now the ruler of this state.”

“It's a very small one, Lenchen. It is not like France, or Prussia even.”

“But to these people it is as important . . . as important as France to the French or Prussia to the Prussians.”

“The situation is explosive at the moment. It always is when a ruler dies and a new one takes over. There are inevitable changes and the people are wary of them. They suspect a young ruler until he proves himself to be a worthy successor to the old one. My father was popular. You know that my uncle rose against him and tried to depose him. That was at the time of our marriage. You remember Ludwig's followers blew up the lodge at that inopportune moment. If they had not our lives would have been different.”