The Dragonfly Pool

The countess drew her fierce eyebrows together. “Thank you, it is not necessary for you to tell me this. I am perfectly aware that it would not be wise for me to be seen with the prince when other people are nearby. But whenever it is safe for me to do so I shall appear and do my duty toward him as I have always done. Even on a short journey it is possible for a boy to get into bad habits, and this I shall prevent with all the power that I have. You may expect to see me again in Zurich.”

Left alone again, the Scold allowed herself to lean back against the cushions. She was not a woman who gave in to her feelings, but now she closed her eyes and permitted a few tears to well up behind her lids. She wept for Bergania and the dead king, for old von Arkel, who had been taken away for questioning . . . Above all she wept for the boy who was now an orphan and eating egg sandwiches among children who walked without clothes on toward the showers.

But she did not weep for long, for it was clear that she had one overriding duty and that was to take Karil to Rottingdene House, where his grandfather would keep him safe. Things were done properly there; there was no place where rules were stricter or etiquette was enforced more strongly—and the boy would be surrounded by nobly born relations to make sure that he did not lapse. In Rottingdene House, with dear Carlotta at his side, Karil would be safe until this nonsense was over and he could return to Bergania to be crowned as the country’s rightful king.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The Pursuit

The campsite was deserted. A colored kerchief caught in the branches of a tree, a mouth organ forgotten in the grass were the only signs that a few hours ago children had stayed here and been happy. Soon workmen would come and surround the site with barbed wire—the tents were going to house soldiers of the occupying army.

In the cathedral the king’s body lay in state, ready for burial.

So everything was going according to plan. Yet in his room in the German consulate, Colonel Stiefelbreich paced the floor, angry and frustrated. His thoughts were on one thing and one thing only.

Where was the prince?

Every nook and cranny in the palace had been gone over; the king’s aunts—tiresome women who would have to be sent to a convent to get them out of the way—had been questioned. The mountain hut of the king’s old nurse had been searched, and every stick and stone of the surrounding countryside had been scoured. On the hill, the bloodhounds had drawn a blank.

This meant trouble for Stiefelbreich. He was supposed to hand the prince over to his superiors as soon as they entered Bergania—failure to do so would have serious consequences. A radio message had just come through from the commandant at Colditz to say that everything was ready to receive the prince. A cell had been prepared for him in the High Security Block, the commandant had said. Not that it mattered whether it was a high-security block or not—the whole of Colditz was high security. No one had escaped from that doomed fortress and lived to tell the tale. Stiefelbreich picked up the telephone.

Earless and Theophilus were resting in their room after their all-night search. They were not pleased with the accommodation they had been given above the consulate garages. Theophilus was worried about the effect of the fumes from the cars on his lungs and was spraying disinfectant up his nose.

Earless was sitting on his bed, which sagged under his weight, and worrying about Belinda. There was a man who served in the corner shop at the bottom of their street at home who smiled at Belinda in a way which Earless did not like. He thought of writing to Belinda and warning her, but reading and writing were very difficult for him and as so often before he thought how different things would be if he still had his other ear. The man in the corner shop wouldn’t have had a chance if Earless had both his ears.

But when they heard that Stiefelbreich wanted them, both men cheered up. There is nothing like work for taking your mind off your troubles.

“Tell me again exactly what happened with the bloodhounds,” he said when the men stood before him.

“They followed the scent easily enough into the hunting ground, up to that lodge by the gates, but then they started going all over the place, running down the hill and coming back. But that’s not surprising—there was a whole stampede of kids up there last night,” said Theophilus.

“Exactly,” said Stiefelbreich, rubbing his chin. “So I think we must face the fact that the prince may have been among them, that somehow he has sneaked out of the country with the children that left on the train this morning. He can’t have gone on his own—the passes have all been watched and the roads checked. And if so, it’s likely that he might be trying to get to Great Britain—after all, his mother was British.”

“So we’d be looking out for that man the king spoke to in the square perhaps,” said Theophilus.