On the Night of the Seventh Moon (27 page)

“I should have had you turned out of Klocksburg long ago.”

“Then who'll look after your bastards?”

“Why, you old witch, there are hundreds who'd like the opportunity.”

“But you trust your old Nana, eh?”

“No farther than the end of the
Randhausburg.
”

“Listen to me, Master Fredi, you turn your gaze away from Miss Trant.”

“You brought her here.”

“Not for your amusement.”

“I'll decide where and when I'm going to be amused.”

“Not here, master.”

“Who's to stop me? You?”

“No. She will though. She's not for you.”

“Who said I was interested?”

“You were always interested in a fresh face—both of you. Don't I know you? Old Nana likes you to enjoy yourselves, but not Miss Trant, Master Fredi. She's in my care. So you give your thoughts to that little innkeeper's daughter I've been hearing about.”

“Trust you to hear everything.”

She gave a high-pitched giggle.

He said: “Don't you dare try to dictate to me, you mischievous old woman.”

They went inside the
Randhausburg
and I heard no more.

I was indignant that I should be discussed in this way. I had already a notion of the Count's intentions—which were after all only the same as he would have toward any woman—but what astonished me was the familiar manner in which Frau Graben addressed him and the inference that the decision to bring me out here to teach the boys English had come from her.

 

When the Count had left I went to the
Randhausburg
and knocked at Frau Graben's door. The air of excitement lingered about her; she looked as though she had just come from a highly diverting entertainment.

“Come in, my dear,” she said.

She was seated on her rocking chair nibbling a piece of spiced cake.

“Sit down. Would you like some tea?”

It was though she were placating me. Tea! The English could always be pacified with it!

“No thank you.”

“I know. A glass of wine. I had some sent to me from the Moselle Valley. It's good stuff.”

“No refreshment thank you. I really wanted to talk to you seriously.”

“Oh, you're too serious, Miss Trant.”

“A woman on her own has to be.”

“You're not on your own. You've got that nice aunt of yours and the bookshop people and what about the reverend gentleman.”

She looked slyly knowledgeable. I was beginning to think that she knew more about me than I had imagined. But of course she had stayed in Oxford; while she was there she would have fallen into conversation with the shop people, and people at her hotel, anyone who might know something about me. But how could she? She spoke very little English.

I said: “How did you know . . . ?”

“One picks up these things. You must have told me during some of our little chats.”

I said: “Did you decide that it would be a good idea for me to come over and teach the children? I mean was it entirely your idea?”

“There'd been talk. And when I was in England I thought you were just the one.” She leaned toward me, nibbling. “I took a fancy to you. I didn't want to lose you. I wanted you to be here. After all we got on famously, didn't we, from the moment we met.”

Those powerful men whose nurse she had been must clearly be fond of her, otherwise they would not allow her such power. I remembered the manner in which she had spoken to the haughty Count, and now it seemed she had the power to bring an English teacher into his household without consulting him.

There was evidently a softer side to the Count's nature since he was so affectionate toward his old nurse.

“So you are allowed to add to the household if you wish?”

“I was a mother to them. There's not always the time or inclination in people like them to look after their children. Those that are nurses to them are like their mothers. We're a sentimental race, you know. Those who have been mothers to us mean a great deal to us.”

I was surprised. I had always known that I owed my presence here to Frau Graben but I did not think it was so completely so as it evidently was.

“Don't you worry,” she said to me, “I'm going to look after you.”

The words were comforting, but there was that glint in her eyes—something of the amusement and speculation which I had seen there when she was watching the spiders.

 

The Count lost no time in coming to Klocksburg. We were in the turret room where I had made a habit of taking the children—not for the written exercises I gave them, but for our conversations. I would make them tell me about the ducal palace and then I would translate it into English. As they were greatly interested in the palace and everything that went on there, this meant that I had their full attention.

He came in and the children all rose to their feet—the boys bowing, Liesel dropping a pretty curtsy. He waved a hand indicating that he preferred them to be seated.

“Please continue, Miss Trant,” he said. “I want to see how the lesson progresses.”

I was determined not to let him see how his presence disturbed me if I could help it. “Now,” I said, “there is the Watching Tower. Fritz, will you please say that in English?”

He stammered a little but I was not displeased with the result.

Then I asked Dagobert in English to point out the barracks and tell me who lived there. He was particularly interested in the soldiers, so I felt safe there.

I asked Liesel to show me the big bell and tell me when it was rung.

They stammered through and I continued with the lesson, but I
can hardly say that the children were at their best. Dagobert was soon trying to show off, Fritz grew nervous, and Liesel was a little silly. The Count sat smiling superciliously. I could see that he was not impressed by the performance.

“You'll have to do better than that,” he said, “if you want to be presented to Her Majesty Queen Victoria when she deigns to pay us another visit.”

Dagobert said: “Is she coming again, sir?”

“Oh come, come. She was with us a few years ago. You must not expect too much from such mighty folk. I have no doubt that Miss Trant has told you that her country is the greatest in the world and we are just a poor little state in comparison.”

Dagobert stared open-mouthed at me and Fritz stammered: “M . . . Miss T . . . Trant didn't tell us that. She . . . she likes our country.”

I was touched. It was an effort to protect me.

I said sharply: “I have not come to teach politics, Herr Count. I have come to teach English.”

“With the natural assumption that the whole world recognizes without any prompting from its subjects the superiority of Britain.”

“You pay us a great compliment,” I said.

“I believe it was said you did the same to us when you allowed your Queen to take a husband from one of our Houses.”

“It linked our countries,” I said.

“And so great benefits were conferred.”

“Perhaps on both sides.”

“You are determined to be gracious.”

“It makes social life so much more comfortable.”

“Even when one does not say exactly what one means?”

“I try to say what I mean.”

“And only prevaricate for expediency. I believe that is a good old English custom.”

“It's frequently considered to be a diplomatic one, I believe.”

I looked at my watch.

“Pastor Kratz will be waiting for you,” I said to the children. They
were surprised. I realized then that until the Count dismissed them we were supposed to remain where we were and Pastor Kratz could wait all morning if necessary.

I rose. To my surprise so did the Count.

“You speak German better than you teach English,” he said.

“It is unwise to judge on such slight evidence,” I retorted. “My German could be better and I believe that in a few weeks your children will have quite a smattering of English.”

I took Liesel by the hand and led her to the door. The Count followed, so the boys came on behind.

We reached the schoolroom where Pastor Kratz was waiting. I went in to have a word with him and the Count sent the children in after me.

When I came out he had gone.

Encounters with him disturbed me. He was determined to be critical and yet at the same time he was interested in me. Our badinage amused him. I had always been able to hold my own in such conversations and when I was stimulated I felt these powers increase. I enjoyed my verbal battles. I had even enjoyed that one this morning for I did not think I had come out of it too badly.

I knew what was going to happen. He was attracted by me. I must seem different from the women he would meet. I was a foreigner for one thing; he wanted to subdue me partly on this account. He had evidently been impressed by the dignity of our Queen when she visited Saxe-Coburg, Leiningen, and the surrounding states—and who would not be? Never had such a tiny person been able to display such regality. On the occasions when I had seen her I had been impressed by it—not that I had seen her often for since the death of the Prince Consort she had shut herself away and had rarely been seen by her subjects. I knew though that she had visited Germany after his death, and I could imagine the effect that unconscious royal dignity would have on a man like the Count. Moreover, she was a great Queen, with a growing Empire, and he was the nephew of the Duke of an insignificant state. How he would have reveled in her position! He would not see that it was natural acceptance of her royalty which gave her such presence.

How did I know so much about him? But he was easy to read. And this I knew: He was planning to seduce me. He betrayed that completely. He was ready to dally a little, but it would only be for a little while. He would enjoy being repulsed at first; but not for long. I thought of those beautiful deer; the destruction of the fleetest and most difficult to ensnare would provide the greatest enjoyment. But he would soon tire of the chase. And then he would be angry. He would find fault with me. I should be dismissed. This had happened to a friend of mine—one of the girls who had been with me at the
Damenstift.
She was exceptionally pretty and without means. She had become a governess. The master of the house had pursued her and when she had repulsed him at first he had been intrigued; but very soon she was looking for another post and had only a very indifferent testimonial to help her.

Life had become very uneasy since the appearance of the Count.

In the
Randhausburg
there was a garden. It was rather beautiful, shut in by stubby firs and containing a lawn with a fountain and seats painted white. Here the children practiced their shooting and archery once a week. At one side was a sheer drop from the plateau but the hedge of bushy firs made it safe for even little Liesel to wander in alone. It was a favorite spot of mine and I often went there. So this morning I took some books intending to work out my next lesson, but I suppose really to brood on my situation and to wonder whether I should begin making inquiries about a position at the
Damenstift.

I was sitting with my back to the little gate which had been set up in the hedge of firs when I heard the latch click. Instinctively I knew who it was.

“Why Miss Trant.”

He pretended to be surprised but I knew that he had seen me come here.

“Have you any objection to my sitting beside you,” he asked, with an irony which I pretended to ignore.

“Please sit here if you wish.”

“This is a pleasant garden,” he went on.

“Very pleasant.”

“I am glad you find it so. And what do you think of our little Klocksburg?”

“I would hardly describe it as little.”

“Oh but not to be compared with Windsor Castle, Buckingham Palace, and, is it Sandringham?”

“There is such a palace and one could not really compare Klocksburg with them. They are quite dissimilar.”

“And much more grand, eh?”

“I find it difficult to make these comparisons. Personally I live in a small house next to a bookshop. I can assure you
that
is not in the least like Klocksburg either.”

“A small house next to a bookshop,” he said. “But a very superior small house next to a very superior bookshop, I daresay.”

“I found it pleasant because it was my home. It is a good bookshop too.”

“Do you think longingly of your home, Miss Trant?”

“Not yet. Perhaps I have not been away long enough.”

“I fancy you have a fondness for our mountains.”

I assured him that I had.

The conversation was running too smoothly.

He said: “I was interested to see that you had decided to throw open our haunted room.”

“I thought it wiser to open it than keep it shut. Frau Graben agreed with me.”

“It has been locked for several years, but you sweep away our traditions with an imperious wave of your English hand.”

“I must explain about the locked room.”

“I look forward to your explanations, Miss Trant.”

“The room was kept locked,” I said. “Therefore it was given a certain eerie aura. I believed that if it were open the idea that it was haunted would vanish. It would be shown to be just a room—nothing more. And this is what is happening.”

“Bravo!” he said. “St. George and the dragon—only this time we
have a St. Georgiana. With her cool common sense broom she sweeps away our medieval cobwebs of superstition. That's the case isn't it?”

“It was time that particular cobweb was swept away.”

“We like our fancies you know. We are said to be so unimaginative, but are we really? You tell me, Miss Trant. You know so much about us.”

“I must dispute that.” I had half-risen.

“You are not going?” He said it as a question but his eyes made it a statement.