“What if she is sick?” A ghastly smiled appeared on Violet’s face. “She must continue to work. She must stand and curtsy. She must... As if she were a machine—as if she were not even alive! They must smile and bow and scrape and serve us like slaves, and if they make the least bit of unpleasantness, they must be thrown out on the street without references and made to starve and suffer.” Her voice was raw with rage. “Of course they are not real people. They are only animals—only insects—grubs.”
Michelle’s big hands gripped Violet’s shoulders. “
“You must not let them upset you so. Let’s go for a walk. The air will do us all good.”
Violet nodded. Tears seeped from her eyes, but she rubbed angrily at them. “Oh, yes—let’s do that. Let’s get outside.” She was still trembling.
Michelle had her by the arm. “We shall get our coats and some comfortable shoes. And we must put Gertrude to bed.”
Gertrude was crying and coughing. “Oh, I mustn’t.”
“You will!” Violet exclaimed. “By God, you will.”
She and Michelle led Gertrude out of the room. Michelle turned to me. “Meet us downstairs.”
I nodded. Holmes’ face was pale, his gray eyes showing anger and concern. “He is a foul old serpent,” I said, “full of poison. No wonder Donald does not like working for him.”
Holmes stared at me. “He told you so?”
“On our walk yesterday.”
“Indeed? I want to hear about this walk, but I must change my clothes. If you would care to accompany me?” I told him about our talk near the pond while he changed from a frock coat and striped trousers to a Norfolk suit. At one point I hesitated, then mentioned Wheelwright’s saying I was a lucky man. Holmes smiled.
“Perceptive of him. Did he say anything more of interest?”
I hesitated again. “He said Violet hates him, and he hates her, but...”
Holmes raised his eyes from his boot. “But?”
“But he is not as good at it as she is.”
Holmes lowered his gaze. “Ah.”
Holmes and I went downstairs and through the great hall. Luckily we did not see either Wheelwright
A tin bucket full of the gardener’s hand tools stood near one of the roof columns, and Holmes poked about in the bucket with his stick. He had on his cloth traveling coat and deerstalker hat; somehow the cap made his nose appear even larger. He looked washed-out under the bright sunlight.
I heard an odd scrambling sound: A youth on a bicycle pedaled vigorously uphill, standing almost upright as he did so. He came to a stop a few feet from us, and then withdrew an envelope.
“Does either of you gentlemen know where I might find Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”
Holmes raised his stick. “I am he.”
“I’ve a telegram for you, sir.”
“Thank you.” Holmes handed him a shilling.
The boy grinned at the coin. “Thank
Holmes slipped his long finger into one end of the envelope, then tore it open and withdrew the paper. His lips formed a smile and he laughed sharply. “Imbecile.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“The chickens have flown the coop. It’s from Lestrade. The Lovejoys have vanished.” Sherlock whacked at the gravel with his stick, then drew a line. “I expected as much.”
“I wonder if we shall ever see them again.”
Holmes shrugged. “I wager we shall, and probably sooner rather than later.” He withdrew his watch and opened it. “I wonder what is keeping the ladies.”
“Their clothing is more complicated than ours. Violet was surely angry.”
Holmes’ nostrils flared as he whacked at the gravel. “Yes. I wish...”
I waited, but he did not finish. “What do you wish?”
“I wish... I wish I could help her. I wish I might break the enchantment and rescue her from this—” he raised his stick and pointed at the gray stone walls of the immense house— “this castle, this tower, where she is imprisoned. If she is imprisoned.”
I smiled. “You wish to save her from the giant. And the old ogre.”
“I only wish to save her. And I wish this case were over and done with.”
“I told Michelle the same thing last night.”
“One way or another, it will be over soon.” He stared down at the gravel. “I have never been so caught up in a case, never felt so...” Again he struck the gravel. “It makes everything so much more difficult. Usually I pursue the truth. That is my guiding light, my main principle, but now I am not certain I want the truth. All the same, there is no other way. First I must have the truth. Then we shall see.” He stared out across the lawn.
Wanting to comfort him, I blurted out, “She does love you.”
He winced as if I had struck him and turned away.
“I am sorry. I only...”
“That also makes everything more difficult.” He would not look at me.
“I wish I could help you.”
He raised his eyes and smiled at me. “You and Michelle have been invaluable. I am glad you are both here.”
“Michelle thinks you will find a way.”
“She would. I have never met a more generous spirit.” His eyes were sad, his smile pained. “But you know better.”
I opened my mouth, but I could not lie to him.
He shrugged. “So do I.” He raised his stick and rested it on his right shoulder.
We heard a noise behind us. Michelle and Violet had changed their shoes and put on their hats and heavy coats. Michelle carried a wicker hamper with two handles. She was flushed with excitement while Violet appeared pale.
“I’m sorry we were so long,” Michelle said, “but we had the cook put together a picnic lunch. It is almost noon, and this way we can stay outside longer.”
Violet gave a curt nod. “And we can avoid the ordeal of lunch with my father-in-law, an event which would be a dyspeptic extravaganza even for those with stomachs made of stronger stuff than mine.”
I could not help but laugh at this. “Let me carry the basket.” I took it from Michelle. “Goodness—how many people did you tell her you were feeding?”
Violet smiled. “I fear the dear cook wants to fatten me up. If we cut across the grounds, there is a pleasant path into the woods.”
Michelle slipped her hand about my left arm. Her face was radiant, her happiness apparent. Violet seemed to have recovered her spirits. Her full lips formed the customary ironic smile, but her dark eyes had an almost haunted look.
“What a beautiful day,” Michelle said.
Violet nodded. “It is good to be outdoors.” She stared up at the sun.
“I put Gertrude to bed,” Michelle told me. “The poor girl. I did not like the sound of her lungs.”
Violet sighed. “Her health has never been good. When she first joined us, she was sick all the time, but she has been much better the past two years.” She stared past me at Michelle. “Promise me you will look after her.”
Michelle laughed. “You know I shall.”
Violet stepped before us. We stopped, and she seized Michelle’s arm. “I mean
Michelle’s smile wilted, but did not quite vanish. “Of course I promise. You know I am fond of Gertrude.”
Violet realized we were all regarding her. The ironic smile returned; she forced a laugh. “Forgive me, I...
