The Mandie Collection (73 page)

“And that big man over there is telling his friend about the fish he caught last weekend,” Mrs. Taft continued. “It's all just normal conversation, dear.”

“Ah, here is the waiter,” Senator Morton said as a small man in a white uniform approached their table. “Shall we just have something to drink and eat a good meal later?” he asked Mrs. Taft.

“Yes, I think so, maybe a few biscuits with the tea,” she replied. “Is that all right with you young people?”

“Yes,” the three agreed.

Senator Morton spoke to the man in French. The man bowed slightly, hurried off, and was back in a few moments with their order.

Mandie sipped the hot tea and then made a face. “Grandmother, what kind of tea is this?” she asked. “It doesn't taste so good.”

Mrs. Taft laughed. “It's what the French normally drink, dear. You must put some sugar and cream in it. It'll be delicious that way.”

The girls tried her suggestion and then bit into the dainty tea biscuits with a look of approval.

Mandie practically ignored Jonathan the rest of the day, even through dinner at their hotel that night. Jonathan seemed not to notice. He carried on a lively conversation with Celia most of the time.

“Are we going back to London tomorrow like we had originally planned, or are we staying here until Jonathan's kinpeople get in touch with us?” Mandie asked her grandmother across the table.

Mrs. Taft looked at the senator. “What shall we do?”

“Why don't we decide in the morning,” Senator Morton replied. “We may be out rather late with the concert tonight.”

“Are we going to a concert?” Mandie asked.

“Do you feel up to staying out past midnight?” Mrs. Taft asked. “People keep late hours over here, and it will undoubtedly be after midnight before the concert is over.”

“Well, I believe I'd rather just stay in our rooms and write some letters and catch up with my journal,” Mandie said thoughtfully. “I haven't written to my mother yet. I'll go to a concert another time after I get accustomed to this late night life.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Mrs. Taft nodded. “You need to get caught up on your sleep. We'll be going to other events.”

“I have a chess set in my luggage,” Senator Morton spoke up. “Maybe you'd like to play some chess while we're gone.”

“I don't know how to play chess, Senator Morton,” Mandie said.

“I do,” Celia and Jonathan spoke at the same time.

“All right then, Jonathan, you may visit the girls in their parlor for a game of chess, if you leave the hall door open,” Mrs. Taft said. “You are all three to retire at your regular bedtime so you'll be fresh for tomorrow. And whatever you do, do not allow any strangers to come into our rooms.”

“Yes, ma'am,” the three agreed.

After an early dinner in the dining room of their hotel that night, Mrs. Taft and Senator Morton left for the concert. Jonathan set up the senator's chess set on a table in the girls' parlor, and he and Celia began teaching Mandie how to play.

Celia and Mandie joined forces against Jonathan, and Celia explained to her friend what they were doing as they made each move. Mandie found her attention wandering. This game looked too complicated.

As soon as we get done with this silly game, I've got to write to my mother
, Mandie was thinking.
I hadn't realized how much I would miss my mother. Since I just found my real mother last year, l don't like being separated from her
, she thought.
I wish Mother could have come with us, but there's Samuel, that new baby brother of mine. I'll be glad when he's old enough to be left with someone else so she can go places with me
.

“Mandie, look!” Celia said excitedly. “Watch this move. I'm going to block Jonathan.”

“I'm sorry,” Mandie apologized, watching Celia complete the move.

“You're not too interested in this game, are you, Mandie?” Jonathan said. “Maybe we could find something else to do.”

“Go ahead and finish the game,” Mandie urged. “I'll just watch.”

The two took up the challenge, each feeling rather confident, but it was Jonathan who finally won the match.

Mandie looked at her watch on the chain around her neck “We have another hour before we have to go to bed,” she told her friends. “What do y'all suggest?”

“Food!” Jonathan gasped with a silly grin.

“Food?” Celia repeated. “Where do we get food?”

“Jonathan, you know all about the customs in this country,” Mandie said. “Is there any way we can get something for a snack?”

“Just leave it to me,” Jonathan said, jumping up from his chair. “I'll just go down and raid the hotel kitchen.”

“Jonathan!” Celia exclaimed. “Not really!”

“Is there any place we can buy something this late?” Mandie asked.

“Mandie, we are not to leave the hotel,” Celia reminded her friend.

“We don't have to buy anything,” Jonathan told the girls. “My father has stayed at this hotel, and he has an account here. Don't worry about it. I'll be back shortly.”

“What are you bringing back?” Mandie asked.

“Whatever they have in the kitchen—maybe some tea and biscuits,” he said, heading for the open hallway door. He stopped short. “I would suggest you girls close this door while I'm gone,” he added.

“You're right, Jonathan,” Mandie said, getting up to close the door after him. “When you come back, you'll have to identify yourself before we open it.”

The girls put the chess set back in its case and discussed their travels while they waited for Jonathan to return.

“We never did ask Jonathan what he was doing outside eating with those three girls this morning,” Celia reminded Mandie.

“I don't intend to mention it,” Mandie said. “It's his business. But I can't imagine what he was talking to them about.”

“I know,” Celia agreed. “I wonder if they told him who they were and where they're going.”

“I plan to ignore them,” Mandie said, pacing around the parlor. “If I let myself worry about the way they seem to be following us around, it'll ruin my travels over here in Europe.”

“You're right, Mandie. We'll just pretend they don't even exist.”

After a while Mandie looked at her watch and gasped. “Celia, Jonathan has been gone a whole hour, and it's time to go to bed. Where do you suppose he went?”

“Knowing Jonathan, there's no telling,” Celia replied, getting up from her chair.

Snowball suddenly came bounding out of their bedroom. Mandie laughed. “Snowball, it's time to go to bed, not get up.” She stooped to talk to her white kitten. “You shouldn't have been napping ever since dinner. Now you'll want to roam around the room all night.” Snowball meowed in reply and then sat down to wash his face.

About thirty minutes later, the girls were really beginning to get worried. Jonathan should have been back long ago.

“Do you suppose Jonathan couldn't get any food and just went on back to his own room since it's bedtime?” she asked.

“Surely he would let us know,” Celia replied.

“I tell you what,” Mandie said. “I'll just step across the hall and knock on his door. You stand here in our doorway and watch for me.”

“All right, but please make it fast,” Celia said, going to the door with Mandie.

No one answered Mandie's knock on the door of Senator Morton's suite. While Celia watched, Mandie pushed open the unlocked door, poked her head inside the room, and called his name. “Jonathan! Jonathan! Are you in here?” she called.

Suddenly a uniformed maid appeared from within the bedrooms of the suite. “Whom do you seek, mademoiselle?” she asked. “I make the beds ready.”

“I wondered why the door was unlocked,” Mandie told the girl. “Is there anyone here? I'm looking for Jonathan.”

The maid shook her head and came forward. “There is no one here.”

As Mandie stepped back across the hall, the maid smiled at her and went on down the corridor. The girls went back inside to their parlor and closed the door.

“I wish Jonathan would hurry up and come back,” Mandie said, stomping her foot. Suddenly a terrible thought struck her. “Celia, do you suppose Jonathan has run away again?” she asked.

“Oh, Mandie! Maybe he has,” Celia replied as the two girls sat down on the settee. “But then, why would he do such a thing?”

“Maybe he's afraid his father will come over here and take him home,” Mandie suggested. “But where would he go? His aunt and uncle aren't home, and no one knows where to find them.”

“Mandie, shouldn't we just go to bed?” Celia urged. “It's past our bedtime, and your grandmother told us–”

“I know,” Mandie interrupted. “But I consider this an emergency. How can we just go to bed, not knowing what's happened to Jonathan? I think we'd better wait up and see if he comes back.”

“Of course,” Celia agreed with a sigh. “I just don't want your grandmother to be angry with us.”

“Grandmother's more likely to be angry with Jonathan if he's not back by the time she and Senator Morton return from the concert,” Mandie said.

Snowball jumped up on the settee beside Mandie and curled up to go back to sleep.

“We could go find the kitchen and see if Jonathan has been there,” Mandie suggested.

“No, no, Mandie,” Celia objected. “It's way too dangerous.”

“But how could it be dangerous?” Mandie asked. “We're on the main floor. All we'd have to do is walk up to the counter at the front door and ask where the kitchen is.”

“No, Mandie,” Celia protested strongly. “We might get lost and we can't even speak French. We'd better just wait here.”

“I could go by myself,” Mandie persisted. “And you could stay here with the door locked.”

“Please, Mandie, let's not go hunting for the kitchen,” Celia pleaded.

“Well, suppose I just go up to the front counter and ask somebody there if they've seen Jonathan?” Mandie asked.

No matter what Mandie suggested Celia would not agree, so Mandie finally gave up.

“Hey, Mandie,” Celia said suddenly, her eyes wide. “Jonathan might have run into those three girls and gone off somewhere with them.”

“That's an idea.” Mandie nodded. “It would be just like him to do that.”

“Well, shall we go to bed now?” Celia asked.

“No, Celia. You can if you want to, but I'm not going to bed until Jonathan comes back. Wherever he is, he ought to realize we'll wait up for him,” Mandie said.

“Then I'll stay up with you, but I sure hope he comes back before your grandmother returns. She'll be awfully upset,” Celia reminded her.

Mandie kept looking at her watch every now and then as they restlessly roamed about the parlor.

Finally the hands on her watch reached midnight. “It's twelve o'clock!” she cried.

“And your grandmother and the senator will be back anytime now,” Celia remarked, rubbing her sleepy green eyes.

Not long after that there was a knock on the parlor door. The girls looked at each other and rushed to answer it. Just in time, Mandie remembered not to open the door. “What is it?” she called.

A man's voice outside replied, “I am the bellhop, mademoiselle. A message I have for Amanda Shaw.”

The girls exchanged glances again, and Mandie slowly opened the door just enough to peek outside. A bellhop in uniform stood in the hallway.

“A message? I'm Amanda Shaw,” Mandie told the young man, opening the door an inch more.

“Man in the lobby . . . he has the message,” the boy began, trying to sort out his English. “Madame Taft and Monsieur Morton, have accident–”

Mandie flung the door wide open. “My grandmother has had an accident?” Her heart was beating wildly. “Where is she?”

“The man in the lobby know,” the bellhop replied. “Not to worry, not a bad accident, but Amanda Shaw he will take to see Madame Taft and Monsieur Morton.”

Mandie quickly turned to her friend. “Let's get our wraps. Hurry!”

While the bellhop waited, the girls rushed into the bedroom and pulled their capes out of the wardrobe. Mandie snatched up Snowball and his red harness. Tears filled her eyes as the bellhop led the way to the lobby. Celia grabbed Mandie's hand and held it tightly.

“Celia, please pray that my grandmother and the senator are all right,” Mandie said.

“Of course, Mandie,” Celia replied. “But the bellhop said it was not a serious accident.”

“It must have been serious enough that my grandmother is unable to come back to the hotel,” Mandie said.

Scenes of accidents flashed through Mandie's mind as they continued down the long hallway.
Please, dear God, don't let anything happen to my grandmother or Senator Morton
, she silently prayed.

CHAPTER SIX

THE STRANGE WOMAN FROM THE SHIP

The bellhop led Mandie and Celia into the front lobby to a tall, thin, middle-aged man with a thick mustache. Small, black, beady eyes peered out of his dark, swarthy face. He was dressed in plain olivecolored pants and a tan shirt.

Mandie rushed forward and grasped the man's sleeve. “Please, mister, what has happened to my grandmother? Please tell me!” she begged.

The bellhop and the dark man quickly exchanged words in French. Then the bellhop turned to Mandie and said, “This is Monsieur De-Weese. He is an
agent de police
—a policeman—in the plain clothes. No speak English. He say small traffic accident happen to Madame Taft and Monsieur Morton. He take you to the hospital.”

“Thank you,” Mandie said to the bellhop.

“Il n'y a pas de quoi
,” the bellhop replied as he bowed. “You're welcome.”

The bellhop disappeared back down the long hallway, and the dark man motioned for the girls to follow him out the front door of the hotel. He had a carriage waiting in the street and indicated that Mandie and Celia should get in.