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  But there was no foreseeing nor rehearsing of that. It would have to be played out as it happened, and meanwhile there was the rest of this traumatic evening to face and, not least of her problems, Johan Seiber to avoid. Or would he be just as anxious as Karl must be to avoid her.

  At the door of the cloakroom on her reluctant way back to the saloon she met Ilse and another woman coming in. .

  Ilse stopped her. 'Oh, there you are! Not having to play wallflower, surely?'

  'Just doing some running repairs,' said Juliet evenly.

  'Yes, well—Karl said he had come upon you in a heavy session with young Seiber. But since then you've been missing, and the Baronin has come up with the novel idea of having the launch put in at your quay before it crosses back to ours, and asking you to open up the School, so that the guests who've never seen it can look over it. She is waiting to see you about it in the saloon.'

  'I'll go to her.'

  Juliet found Magda anxious that she should agree. 'It could mean some valuable publicity for you, dear,' she urged. 'Apart from that, the School is a unique feature of the Lake which people ought to see. So if we put in there, with the idea of your showing them around it—would you?'

  Juliet demurred, 'The workroom may be pretty untidy—the tools that are going to be used again tomorrow left all over the benches.' But at the back of her mind she was realising that the plan could solve her most immediate problem. When she had shown the party over the School and they had re-embarked, she would be on her own doorstep, and as long as she took her polite leave of the party's hostess—she wasn't quite sure whether it was the Baronin or Ilse—surely no one could take it amiss if she stayed where she was? By the time the launch had crossed the lake and the cars had returned to the Schloss, the time would be nearer one o'clock than midnight, and the party must soon break up.

  She told Magda she was fully agreeable. Magda murmured, 'I'm glad, though Ilse didn't seem to think it a very good idea.' To which Juliet's unspoken retort was, 'Oh, she didn't?' and a determination to do her very best by all the School had to show.

  The launch changed course, and on the short trip to the Rutgen pier, she remembered the two standard lanterns at either side of the main door and the looped chain of fairy-lights, used only on gala occasions, which lit the fagade and were switched on from inside the building. She stationed herself by the rail and when the launch juddered to the quay, she asked the people near her to wait for a few minutes, and stepped alone on to the jetty and along the short path between it and the School.

  She used her key on the main door, switched on every light there was and looked into the workroom where, as she expected, there remained a clutter of tools and half-finished carvings on the benches. But it was a workmanlike untidiness and there was neither sawdust nor a curl of wood-shaving on the floor which, by her cast-iron rule against the hazard of fire, was swept as it always was before the workers left for the night. The stockroom was tidy and the snack-bar was neatly shuttered.

  She had told the launch-party to take as their signal the switching-on of the outside lights, and now they were trooping along the narrow path in twos and threes, and lingering outside to admire the fine woodwork of the facade and the long shimmer of light cast by the lanterns across the surface of the lake.

  They crowded in, not all of them at once, for there wasn't room. They looked and handled and questioned — What number of people did the School employ? How did they learn their craft? Very much a father- and-son tradition, was it? Was there good money to be earned, once a man was skilled? And was there any future for it in these mass-produced days? For instance, if it weren't tourist-supported, mightn't it die overnight?

  The last query Juliet answered with a bland, 'But it is tourist-supported, and fortunately die tourists, like the poor, are always with us,' which raised a laugh at the expense of the question, which was as regularly asked as were most of the others put by visitors being shown round the School.

  Usually of course Juliet hadn't to do the tour- guiding alone, and without Wilhelm Konstat or someone else to take on part of the crowd, she felt harried but at the same time stimulated by its interest. She explained and demonstrated and talked and wasn't _really tired. But if only it weren't quite so hot in there! Finding herself with her back to a lattice window, she unlatched it, flung it wide and while the people near her were handling and admiring some of Helmut's animals, leaned back against the frame, grateful for the flow of cool night air.

  Outside a couple were standing, close under one of the lanterns. Leaning back further, Juliet glanced along the line of her shoulder, recognising Ilse but not the man. Ilse was speaking and Juliet was listening. Ilse was saying,

  'Yes, of course. Charming and in-character and folksy—all that, I agree. But it's nothing but a cottage industry, only fit for peasants who until now have had nothing else open to them. And yet this English girl— this protégée of the Baronin's—won't admit that its days are numbered, though it can't be long before she finds herself without any workers to manage. What did you say?'

  Juliet did not hear what the man replied, but Ilse answered him, 'Well, she may keep the lame and the halt, but the able-bodied ones are going to be tempted by the wages they can earn with Adler Classics. Karl Adler knows that must force her out.' Ilse paused as her companion spoke again. Then—'A pity? A loss to the Lake? A bit ruthless? Well yes, perhaps. But necessary, as Karl sees it.' She drew her lace wrap round her shoulders. 'So if you've seen all you want, shall we make our way back to the launch?'

  Juliet straightened, slamming shut the window. So that was it! As if she couldn't have guessed! So far, only two of her people had been bribed to leave, but if

  the price went up ? Very cunning! Very subtle!

  Given a month or two of attractive offers to the men as timber-fellers or cabinet-makers, and the School could become an empty shell where nobody wanted to work. And to hear its doom predicted by Ilse Krantz, confidently speaking for Karl, was too much! Juliet had to force herself to concentrate upon a woman who was fingering one of Helmut's dachshunds.

  'You would like to order a pair of those? Certainly,' she smiled, outwardly calm, though inwardly raging.

  She had heard from someone in the launch party that Magda had stayed on board, which decided her to make her excuses later by telephone, rather than risk being pressed into returning to the Schloss if she went to the landing-stage with the others.

  They drifted off in twos and threes, and by claiming she had something to do in the house, Juliet was able to watch the last of them disappear in the direction of the jetty. She went through the routine of switching off the lights the full length of the building—the

  stockroom, the workshop, the outside lanterns

  But with a finger on that switch, she paused. The main door was still open, and under one of the lanterns stood the cause of the need for her elaborate ruse to avoid him—Karl.

  'Wh-what do you want?' Shock put a stammer into her voice. 'I didn't realise 1 thought you'd '

  'Gone with the others?' he finished for her. 'Not when I saw you didn't mean to. Being curious enough, that is, to wonder why?'

  'It didn't seem worth it at this hour, when the party must soon be over.'

  'All the same, rather rude to your hostess to opt out without so much as a "Thank you for having me", don't you think?'

  'I'm going to telephone to explain. Later, when they've got back. When I'm alone,' she added pointedly.

  'Your reason being your fear that the Baronin might rope me in as escort to you for your trip back?'

  'So if you know why I did it, why give yourself the trouble of staying behind to ask me why?'

  'Then that was it?' He nodded maddening satisfaction, goading her to snap,

  'Well, what do you suppose, after the way you had abused me? That I'd be all welcoming gratitude at being so honoured? If I had gone back with the others, I'd have walked home, rather.'

  'As I'm going to have to walk back now.'

&
nbsp; 'By your own choice. You didn't have to miss the launch, merely in order to gloat over the effect of your insults!' she retorted.

  'And you don't have to assume that gloating was my only reason for staying behind.'

  'What else? You've admitted it. And you can hardly pretend, can you, that you wanted to smoke a pipe of peace with me?' she jeered.

  Watching him, she was unprepared for the ironic lift which twisted his mouth. 'At this hour? Entirely un-chaperoned?' he enquired mildly.

  'Well then ?'

  'Well then'—he echoed, the half-smile gone— 'switch off your lights, lock your doors and go to bed. And don't bother to thank me for having flushed out your unwelcome suitor before he had the chance to pester you again, which I take it you wouldn't want? So—goodnight.'

  She stared at him. 'No Wait! You mean—that man, Johan Seiber ?'

  Karl nodded. 'With roughly the same idea as mine— to let the launch leave without him.'

  'And—and come back here?'

  'Feeling he had a score to pay, I imagine.'

  'And you got rid of him?'

  'Saw him safely aboard, yes. Judging, on earlier showing, that you might find me and my gloat preferable to him with reprisals on his mind. Right?'

  She bit her lip. 'Of course. Thank you '

  'And so ' Karl reached inside the door to flick the lantern-switch just above her head. As his hand dropped from the switch he allowed his fingers to trail her cheek.

  'You are your own worst enemy, Juliet Harmon— do you know that?' he said. 'But at least, in coping with me, you've played safe this time. Between you and me, no dire designs on your virtue either intended or entertained—huh?' And then, out of the darkness, she heard, 'Goodnight again to you,' and he was gone.

  Had he dared to laugh as she shut the door on him? After the way he had treated her on board the launch— had he dared? She believed he had.

  Chapter Seven

  What was it possible to make of the man?

  After accusing her of having given Johan Seiber the right to pester her, he had taken it upon himself to avenge Gerhard by deliberately raping her will to surrender to him which—did he but know!—was his to command, if only he had asked it of her in love.

  He had admitted hating what he thought she stood for, so why this later unexpected overture to protect her? Scorn then; concern now—for someone who had mere nuisance value to him. Why did he bother? Because he knew by now that injustice and indebtedness to him got equally under her skin, and he savoured the spectacle- of her reaction to both? Wretchedly Juliet supposed that had to be it. And the next time they met, would Karl be wearing his chivalry hat or his judge's wig? And how was he thinking of her as he trudged up to the castle in the darkness of the tortuous forest paths? With malice or with kindness? Or not thinking of her at all?

  She telephoned the Schloss, leaving a message for Magda to be told why she had stayed behind. Then she went to bed, making a conscious effort to put the events of the evening—all of them—out of her thoughts. But when she slept she dreamed that she stood alone in the School workshop; the floor a litter of debris, the work-benches empty of tools; nobody else within sight or sound, and the dream jerking her out of sleep, back to the memory of her eavesdropping on Ilse, that willing Cassandra, prophesying the doom which Karl had in store for Magda's 'English protegee'.

  Of course Ilse had warned her, though without spelling out so directly his plans for gaining his ends. When those two wood-carvers had left, Wilhelm Konstat had voiced his fears, and she had had her own. And now Use's news had made the threat a real one. That was how he meant to flush out the enemy—with bribery and tempting conditions of work. No wonder he could afford to make that quixotic gesture to Helmut Jager and the others; he wouldn't have to give them the freedom of the forest for long, once he had milked the School of all its workers, barring Helmut and Grandpa Weisskop and perhaps Wilhelm. For could she count even on Wilhelm's loyalty, in face of Adler Classics' inducements?

  In the morning Juliet tackled Wilhelm head-on. Did he know of any approach to their workers, and if so, what form had it taken?

  Wilhelm did not, but pressed, admitted that he had heard 'murmurs'.

  'About what? From whom?' Juliet demanded.

  'From some of our own people. At the Wirtshaus they see how much the strangers are able to spend, and I think they begin to ask questions,' Wilhelm said.

  'Questions—of the timbermen?'

  'More of themselves—whether they owe it to their wives and families to go after such pay, if it is there to be earned.' He raised faded blue eyes to meet Juliet's. 'I have even thought that way myself now and then.'

  'Oh, Wilhelm !' She felt betrayed.

  He beamed, paused and then surprised her with the triumphant English of a phrase he must have copied, parrot-wise, from her. 'Not to worry!' he said, and reverting to German, 'When I ask myself such questions, do you know what I reply? I say, "Wilhelm Konstat, you are a fool. An old fool of a dog who cannot be taught new tricks. You are a wood-carver, not a hewer of planks. Stick to the trade your father taught you, and his father taught him, and let's have no more of this nonsense." That is what I say, Fraulein!'

  'Oh, Wilhelm!' she said again, but this time with a shaky laugh. 'Though can we be sure any of the other men will think that way?' she demurred. 'Ought I to get them together and talk to them, do you think?'

  'Put it into their heads that because they can perfect a model by shaving a millimetre off it they can manhandle a tonne of timber into chains and see it away? Hmm!' Wilhelm scorned.

  'They might know they couldn't, and wouldn't want to. But they could go into Adler Classics factories as cabinet-makers or something,' Juliet protested Weakly.

  'Indeed so—if you suggest it to them, Fraulein. But if you listen to me, you will hold your tongue. It will be time enough to fight Adler when any more of our people ask for their cards,' was Wilhelm's advice.

  'Or the lot of them do—to a man!'

  'That you must handle when it happens,' said Wilhelm. 'In the meantime, appear to know nothing, but keep your pretty ear to the ground.'

  Reluctantly Juliet had to agree-that he was probably right.

  The next day was Sunday, when all Rutgen flocked to church in its best clothes, summoned by the church tower's tinny bell. That is, all the mothers and fathers were in their traditional garb; the women in gold- braided aprons over dirndl skirts, silk kerchiefs and silver jewellery, the-men more sombre in greys and greens relieved by quill-embroidered belts, with chamois brushes adorning perky hats. But their sons and daughters who meant to pair off after church and had parked their mopeds and their high-powered motor-cycles in readiness on the village square were all in the current uniform of youth—denim jeans and patched shirts, boots to their knees, and not the vestige of a hat between them.

  But all the girls donned cotton lace mantillas before going into church, and Juliet, dressed like them in slacks and shirt, did the same. Afterwards she was going to take herself on a walking picnic. She needed to think, and she could do it best up there in the high woods, alone.

  She left the village soon after noon, her objective a forest clearing almost at the limits of the von Boden land. From lake level it was a long steady climb, taking her higher still than the Schloss. There was a road fit for motor traffic, but she chose the century-trodden paths, dappled by light and shade and slippery with the gnarled air-roots of the trees.

  She came out on to the clearing, hot and a little leg-weary. But the climb had been worth it. The clearing was a plateau of about a quarter of an acre, with further heights beyond it and a steep drop from its level, from which the roof of the Schloss could be glimpsed through the trees and there was a glint of the blue-green of the lake water lower still.

  Juliet stood, looking down and up and thinking as she had often done before what a perfect site for a house the plateau would make. In imagination she sited the house with its face to the view of the lake, its back to the shelter of the mou
ntains; remote enough if that was what you wanted, but, by the road, within a few kilometres of civilisation. Ideal.

  She sat down in the shade of a spreading beech and unpacked her lunch of crispbreads spread with pate, a carton of salad, some slices of buttered yeast cake and a flask of fresh orange juice. As she prised open the salad carton she heard the distant sound of a car labouring up the steep road. Shortly below her clearing the road branched to join a main highway lower down, and she waited, listening for the change and recession of the sound as the car took that way.

  But instead it came on up the rutted dead-end track to the clearing, its wheels skittering loose shale like pistol shots. Its bonnet appeared between the trees, it lurched on to the level of the clearing and stopped. A man in a tweed jacket and shorts got out, reached back into the car for a clip-board, turned and saw Juliet under her tree, and after a moment's hesitation, came over.

  He was young and plump with short brown hair cut en brosse. He- bowed to her with almost heel-clicking formality. 'Fraulein'—he said—'I hope I don't intrude?'

  - Fleetingly her thoughts went back to the last time a man had 'intruded' in much the same way, that time with the brash assumption of a welcome ... 'Of course not,' she said, smiling, though her look must have conveyed a question as to why he was there, for he offered his hand. 'Hermann Brend,' he announced. 'I am an architect, and I'm meeting a prospective client here.' He glanced down at the napkin on which the food was spread. 'But don't let me '