I hurried away. When I came back they were talking politely about the weather, or something. I heard the count ask where she was going to stay and I pricked up my ears before I was sent out again; but all I heard was something to the effect that since she’d come equipped for a journey of scientific exploration (and had only broken her travels here for a day or so) she was perfectly happy to camp, like a Red Indian, I supposed, the tavern being full and the village barred to her by Sergeant Snitsch. Then the count glared at me, and I curtsied and left.

I must speak to her, I thought. But some evil power (I was becoming convinced) was frustrating all my good intentions. Because when I got back to the kitchen, I was met by Frau Wenzel the cook, beside herself with excitement and weeping with joy.

“Oh, Hildi! Oh, Hildi! Isn’t it wonderful?” she sobbed.

“What? For goodness’ sake, what is it?”

“They’ve found Miss Charlotte! They’ve brought her back, all safe and sound!”

I sat down, astonished. No, it wasn’t wonderful at all. I was furious. I knew what had happened—they’d left the hut, stupid things, and she’d been caught.

“Where is she now?” I said. “I’ll go and see her. She’ll want—”

“Kelmar!” said the voice of Frau Muller, and her goose-shaped figure swept into the kitchen like a cold draft. “That brat’s been found. She’s in the tower, and she’s not to be seen to, d’you hear? You’re not to go near her.”

“But where’s she been? What happened? And why—”

“Just do as you’re told!” she snapped. “I think you know more than you pretend. If you go near that child, I’ll have you tanned, don’t think I won’t. And it won’t stop there.” She cast a suspicious look around the kitchen, and swept out as swiftly as she’d swept in.

“Why mustn’t I go up to her?” I said to Frau Wenzel, who was fanning her face weakly with the day’s menus.

“Oh, dear, oh, dear, I wouldn’t argue with her—she’s got a terrible temper, and it’s me’ll get the rough edge of her tongue. It’s not fair, Hildi, what I have to put up with in here—I wouldn’t get it anywhere else, not treatment like this….” A sniff or two, another sob, and she was over the worst of that; and while she stirred a pot of stew, I sat at the table and chopped up some carrots and got the story out of her.