“I took the liberty of accompanying your maid, ma’am, so as to protect her in these wild regions,” he said. “I have had the honor of serving you before, as it happens. I was a coachman, ma’am, and I drove you into Geneva, which was where I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Eliza here.”

A smart, well-spoken, polite young man. I approved. It was plain, even in the twilight, that the two of them were in love.

“What is your name?”

“Max Grindoff, ma’am, at your service.”

“And you are a coachman, you say?”

“Not anymore, ma’am. I’m the gentleman’s personal attendant and lackey in chief to the great Doctor Cadaverezzi, who owns the Cabinet of Wonders, ma’am.”

“Hmm. I see. Now, Eliza, you said something just now about looking for them. To whom were you referring?”

“The little girls, miss! Charlotte and Lucy!”

“Explain.”

She did so. As she spoke, Count Karlstein’s plan—though not, of course, the reasons for it yet—began to reveal itself to me. He had treated the girls in such a manner that they had run away; he had concealed the fact by telling me a pack of lies about their being ill; and now he was trying to recapture them.

“I shall have to see to this,” I said. “Now, Grindoff, my man. You have been looking for these girls since this morning, I take it?”

“Well, ma’am…” He shuffled his feet.

“But with no success, evidently.”

“None at all, ma’am. But this forest is remarkable large and they might be anywhere. They might even have gone over the mountains into the next valley or beyond, ma’am. They could be in Italy—”

“Stuff and nonsense. They won’t be far away. No, there’s only one thing to do. Count Karlstein knows of my interest—he won’t be taken in by a second visit from me. But he doesn’t know you. You’ll have to go up to the castle.”

“What, me, ma’am? What for, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“To find out why they ran away in the first place. Ask the servants. Introduce yourself into the kitchen. I’m sure you can manage that.”

“But my master, ma’am,” he said, “he’ll be expecting me back at the Jolly Huntsman any minute now. He’s got a show to perform tonight.”

“Well, if you hurry, you could be there and back before he begins.”

“You’ll have to leave your trombone with us, Maxie,” said Eliza.

“It ain’t a trombone, Eliza, it’s a coach-horn,” he said.

I looked at it—a long, straight brass instrument. I asked to examine it more closely and he handed it to me.