'Do you like Glenatholl?'
'Very much. At least I did. Now I think I am a little scared.' He shivered. 'Mr Faro, why should anyone want to harm me? I have no enemies. I have never harmed anyone and I had - have lots of friends at school. None of the boys care a jot about - who I am - you know, about Luxoria and that sort of thing.'
And with a sigh he added apologetically, 'A fellow cannot help what he is born and princes and earls are not all that rare at Glenatholl, so why should I be in any danger?'
Faro realised he was thinking about the kidnapping.
'I was really scared. I expect I shall have nightmares.'
This was the chance Faro had been waiting for. 'Perhaps it would help if we talked about it. Would you like to tell me exactly what happened that day?'
George thought for a moment. 'Anton could tell you better than me. He saw it all. I never saw anything,' he added ruefully.
‘How was that?' Faro was puzzled.
'It all happened so quickly. One moment I was waiting to meet this mysterious person who had a message from my mother - I know her personal stationery very well. She writes to me often, every week, you see.'
‘Do you still have this message?' Faro put in eagerly.
George shook his head sadly. 'No, it disappeared. I must
have lost it somewhere. Perhaps it fell out of my pocket while they were carrying me. I struggled quite a bit, you know,' he added bravely.
The note was more likely to have been stolen and destroyed than dropped during the struggle, Faro thought. And destroyed so that it could not be used in evidence. Especially as it was most likely to have been a clever forgery.
'I knew she was going on a visit to Cousin Willy's hunting-lodge in Germany. He's the Kaiser, you know,' he added casually. 'Mother is your Queen's favourite godchild and the Kaiser is a favourite grandson. They have been best friends for a long time.'
Faro had heard all this from Sir Julian Arles and gently reminded the boy, 'You were telling me about the kidnapping.'
George frowned. 'I was waiting for this person who wanted to meet me and the next thing I knew, something - a cloak I suppose - was thrown over my head, and my arms were fastened behind me with a rope. They lifted me off my feet and a man threw me over his shoulder.'
He thought for a moment, as if puzzled by something.
'I'm sure it was a man. At first I thought it was one of the boys playing a game - a practical joke. I laughed and told them to put me down and pretended I knew who it was.'
'And did you?' Faro asked eagerly. This was a new piece of evidence.
'No.' Turning in the dark, George looked at him. 'I knew it was in deadly earnest when I struggled and fought but it was no use.'
'You said "they"?'
'There was someone with him, running alongside.' George clenched his fists. 'Mr Faro, I was very scared. This was the first time in my life anything dangerous or even unpleasant had ever happened. When I realised it wasn't a game - '
Faro interrupted again. 'A game seems an odd sort of thing.'
George laughed. 'Oh, the boys get up to all sorts of pranks. They love playing tricks on each other. But not this time.' He shook his head. 'I really thought they meant to kill me.'
'What happened next, as much as you can remember, exactly?'
'Oh, I shall never forget. Never. Although each minute seemed like an hour because I was so frightened, I knew I hadn't been carried very far. I heard a door open, I was in a building and they threw me on to the ground. There was straw - I could smell it. I knew it wasn't a game now and I kept asking, "Who are you? Let me go. Please let me go. If it is money you want, my mother will pay you - anything -anything you ask for." But no one took any notice. I heard the door bang.' Faro felt him shudder. 'I -I tried not to cry, Mr Faro, really I did, remembering the boys and how they would jeer.'
Faro wondered if any would, had they experienced such real-life terror, as George went on.
'But I was very cold and hungry. Then suddenly I knew I must not waste time being sorry for myself. That wouldn't help. I had to be practical and use my energy thinking of ways to escape. It was very difficult with my hands and feet firmly tied, lying there helpless like a trussed chicken.'
He thought for a moment. 'The worst thing of all was their silence. That they had never spoken to me, never answered my questions or told me why I had been kidnapped or what they were going to do with me. That was worse than anything, not knowing. That and the silence.'
'You never heard them speak?' Faro asked curiously.
'No. Not once. Not a word. Not even whispers among themselves.'
Remembering Anton's description of seeing the kidnapper talking to George, Faro found this extremely interesting, for it suggested that Anton had been mistaken about what happened.
George's account was more likely. The obvious and sinister reason for not talking to him was that the kidnappers where known to him, people whose voices he would recognise. And that, in fact, was the very reason he had first suspected that they were boys from his class playing another of their practical jokes.
'Anton said there were two men.'
George nodded. 'That is so. The older man carried me but there was someone else running alongside.'
'How do you know that?'
George frowned, thinking. 'The man had strong arms, a broad chest. Tall. The other one was smaller.' He shrugged. 'Perhaps even a woman.’
'A woman?'
'Yes. Although they didn't speak to me or to each other, I heard their footsteps. The man who carried me
