Klaus felt an icy chill go through him as the horrible man spoke. He had never been so terrified in all his life. He found that his arms and legs were shaking uncontrollably, as if he were having some sort of fit. His mouth was making strange sounds, like Sunny always did, as he struggled to find something to say. ``Ah-'' Klaus heard himself choke out. ``Ah-''
``When the time comes,'' the hook-handed man said smoothly, ignoring Klaus's noises, ``I believe Count Olaf just might leave you to me. So if I were you, I'd start acting a little nicer.''
The man stood up again and put both his hooks in front of Klaus's face, letting the light from the reading lamps reflect off the wicked-looking devices.
``Now, if you will excuse me, I have to fetch your poor orphan siblings.''
Klaus felt his body go limp as the hook-handed man left the room, and he wanted to sit there for a moment and catch his breath. But his mind wouldn't let him. This was his last moment in the library, and perhaps his last opportunity to foil Count Olaf's plan. But what to do? Hearing the faint sounds of the hook-handed man talking to Justice Strauss in the garden, Klaus looked frantically around the library for something that could be helpful.
Then, just as he heard the man's footsteps heading back his way, Klaus spied one book, and quickly grabbed it. He untucked his shirt and put the book inside, hastily retucking it just as the hook-handed man reentered the library, escorting Violet and carrying Sunny, who was trying without success to bite the man's hooks.
``I'm ready to go,'' Klaus said quickly, and walked out the door before the man could get a good look at him. He walked quickly ahead of his siblings, hoping that nobody would notice the book-shaped lump in his shirt. Maybe, just maybe, the book Klaus was smuggling could save their lives.
Chapter Eight
Klaus stayed up all night reading, which was normally something he loved to do. Back when his parents were alive, Klaus used to take a flashlight to bed with him and hide under the covers, reading until he couldn't keep his eyes open. Some mornings, his father would come into Klaus's room to wake him up and find him asleep, still clutching his flashlight in one hand and his book in the other. But on this particular night, of course, the circumstances were much different.
Klaus stood by the window, squinting as he read his smuggled book by the moonlight that trickled into the room. He occasionally glanced at his sisters. Violet was sleeping fitfully-a word which here means ``with much tossing and turning''-on the lumpy bed, and Sunny had wormed her way into the pile of curtains so that she just looked like a small heap of cloth. Klaus had not told his siblings about the book, because he didn't want to give them false hope. He wasn't sure the book would help them out of their dilemma.
The book was long, and difficult to read, and Klaus became more and more tired as the night wore on. Occasionally his eyes would close. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. But then he would remember the way the hook-hands of Count Olaf's associate had glinted in the library, and would imagine them tearing into his flesh, and he would wake right up and continue reading. He found a small scrap of paper and tore it into strips, which he used to mark significant parts of the book.
By the time the light outside grew gray with the approaching dawn, Klaus had found out all he needed to know. His hopes rose along with the sun. Finally, when the first few birds began to sing, Klaus tiptoed to the door of the bedroom and eased it open quietly, careful not to wake the restless Violet or Sunny, who was still hidden in the pile of curtains. Then he went to the kitchen and sat and waited for Count Olaf.
He didn't have to wait long before he heard Olaf tromping down the tower stairs. When Count Olaf walked into the kitchen, he saw Klaus sitting at the table and smirked, a word which here means ``smiled in an unfriendly, phony way.''
``Hello, orphan,'' he said. ``You're up early.''
Klaus's heart was beating fast, but he felt calm on the outside, as if he had on a layer of invisible armor. ``I've been up all night,'' he said, ``reading this book.'' He put the book out on the table so Olaf could see it. ``It's called Nuptial Law,'' Klaus said, ``and I learned many interesting things while reading it.''
Count Olaf had taken out a bottle of wine to pour himself some breakfast, but when he saw the book he stopped, and sat down.
``The word ``nuptial,'' '' Klaus said, ``means ``relating to marriage.'' ''
``I know what the word means,'' Count Olaf growled. ``Where did you get that book?''
``From Justice Strauss's library,'' Klaus said. ``But that's not important. What's important is that I have found out your plan.''
``Is that so?'' Count Olaf said, his one eyebrow raising. ``And what is my plan, you little runt?''
Klaus ignored the insult and opened the book to where one of the scraps of paper was marking his place. `` ``The laws of marriage in this community are very simple,'' '' he read out loud.
`` ``The requirements are as follows: the presence of a judge, a statement of ``I do'' by both the bride and the groom, and the signing of an explanatory document in the bride's own hand.'' '' Klaus put down the book and pointed at Count Olaf. ``If my sister says ``I do'' and signs a piece of paper, while Justice Strauss is in the room, then she is legally married. This play you're putting on shouldn't be called The Marvelous Marriage. It should be called The Menacing Marriage. You're not going to marry Violet figuratively-you're going to marry her literally! This play won't be pretend; it will be real and legally binding.''
Count Olaf laughed a rough, hoarse laugh. ``Your sister isn't old enough to get married.''
``She can get married if she has the permission of her legal guardian, acting in loco parentis,'' Klaus said. ``I read that, too. You can't fool me.''
``Why in the world would I want to actually marry your sister?'' Count Olaf asked. ``It is true she is very pretty, but a man like myself can acquire any number of beautiful women.''
Klaus turned to a different section of Nuptial Law, `` ``A legal husband,'' '' he read out loud, `` ``has the right to control any money in the possession of his legal wife.'' '' Klaus gazed at Count Olaf in triumph. ``You're going to marry my sister to gain control of the Baudelaire fortune! Or at least, that's what you planned to do. But when I show this information to Mr. Poe, your play will not be performed, and you will go to jail!''
Count Olaf's eyes grew very shiny, but he continued to smirk at Klaus. This was surprising. Klaus had guessed that once he announced what he knew, this dreadful man would have been very angry, even violent. After all, he'd had a furious outburst just because he'd wanted roast beef instead of puttanesca sauce. Surely he'd be even more enraged to have his plan discovered. But Count Olaf just sat there as calmly as if they were discussing the weather.
``I guess you've found me out,'' Olaf said simply. ``I suppose you're right: I'll go to prison, and you and the other orphans will go free. Now, why don't you run up to your room and wake your sisters? I'm sure they'll want to know all about your grand victory over my evil ways.''
Klaus looked closely at Count Olaf, who was continuing to smile as if he had just told a clever joke. Why wasn't he threatening Klaus in anger, or tearing his hair out in frustration, or running to pack his clothes and escape? This wasn't happening at all the way Klaus had pictured it.
``Well, I will go tell my sisters,'' he said, and walked back into his bedroom. Violet was still dozing on the bed and Sunny was still hidden beneath the curtains. Klaus woke Violet up first.
``I stayed up all night reading,'' Klaus said breathlessly, as his sister opened her eyes, ``and I discovered what Count Olaf is up to. He plans to marry you for real, when you and Justice Strauss and everyone all think it's just a play, and once he's your husband he'll have control of our parents' money and he can dispose of us.''
``How can he marry me for real?'' Violet asked. ``It's only a play.''
``The only legal requirements of marriage in thi
s community,'' Klaus explained, holding up Nuptial Law to show his sister where he'd learned the information, ``are your saying ``I do,'' and signing a document in your own hand in the presence of a judge-like Justice Strauss!''
``But surely I'm not old enough to get married,'' Violet said. ``I'm only fourteen.''
``Girls under the age of eighteen,'' Klaus said, flipping to another part of the book, ``can marry if they have the permission of their legal guardian. That's Count Olaf.''
``Oh no!'' Violet cried. ``What can we do?''
``We can show this to Mr. Poe,'' Klaus said, pointing to the book, ``and he will finally believe us that Count Olaf is up to no good. Quick, get dressed while I wake up Sunny, and we can be at the bank by the time it opens.''
Violet, who usually moved slowly in the mornings, nodded and immediately got out of bed and went to the cardboard box to find some proper clothing. Klaus walked over to the lump of curtains to wake up his younger sister.
``Sunny,'' he called out kindly, putting his hand on where he thought his sister's head was. ``Sunny.''
There was no answer. Klaus called out ``Sunny'' again, and pulled away the top fold of the curtains to wake up the youngest Baudelaire child. ``Sunny,'' he said, but then he stopped. For underneath the curtain was nothing but another curtain. He moved aside all the layers, but his little sister was nowhere to be found. ``Sunny!'' he yelled, looking around the room. Violet dropped the dress she was holding and began to help him search. They looked in every corner, under the bed, and even inside the cardboard box. But Sunny was gone.
``Where can she be?'' Violet asked worriedly. ``She's not the type to run off.''
``Where can she be indeed?'' said a voice behind them, and the two children turned around. Count Olaf was standing in the doorway, watching Violet and Klaus as they searched the room. His eyes were shining brighter than they ever had, and he was still smiling like he'd just uttered a joke.
Chapter Nine
``Yes,'' Count Olaf continued, ``it certainly is strange to find a child missing. And one so small, and helpless.''
``Where's Sunny?'' Violet cried. ``What have you done with her?''
Count Olaf continued to speak as if he had not heard Violet. ``But then again, one sees strange things every day. In fact, if you two orphans follow me out to the backyard, I think we will all see something rather unusual.''
The Baudelaire children didn't say anything, but followed Count Olaf through the house and out the back door. Violet looked around the small, scraggly yard, in which she had not been since she and Klaus had been forced to chop wood. The pile of logs they had made was still lying there untouched, as if Count Olaf had merely made them chop logs for his own amusement, rather than for any purpose. Violet shivered, still in her nightgown, but as she gazed here and there she saw nothing unusual.
``You're not looking in the right place,'' Count Olaf said. ``For children who read so much, you two are remarkably unintelligent.''
Violet looked over in the direction of Count Olaf, but could not meet his eyes. The eyes on his face, that is. She was staring at his feet, and could see the tattooed eye that had been watching the Baudelaire orphans since their troubles had begun. Then her eyes traveled up Count Olaf's lean, shabbily dressed body, and she saw that he was pointing up with one scrawny hand. She followed his gesture and found herself looking at the forbidden tower. It was made of dirty stone, with only one lone window, and just barely visible in the window was what looked like a birdcage.
``Oh no,'' Klaus said in a small, scared voice, and Violet looked again. It was a birdcage, dangling from the tower window like a flag in the wind, but inside the birdcage she could see a small and frightened Sunny. When Violet looked closely, she could see there was a large piece of tape across her sister's mouth, and ropes around her body. She was utterly trapped.
``Let her go!'' Violet said to Count Olaf. ``She has done nothing to you! She is an infant!''
``Well, now,'' Count Olaf said, sitting on a stump. ``If you really want me to let her go, I will. But surely even a stupid brat like you might realize that if I let her go-or, more accurately, if I ask my comrade to let her go-poor little Sunny might not survive the fall down to the ground. That's a thirty-foot tower, which is a very long way for a very little person to fall, even when she's inside a cage. But if you insist-''
``No!'' Klaus cried. ``Don't!''
Violet looked into Count Olaf's eyes, and then at the small parcel that was her sister, hanging from the top of the tower and moving slowly in the breeze. She pictured Sunny toppling from the tower and onto the ground, pictured her sister's last thoughts being ones of sheer terror. ``Please,'' she said to Olaf, feeling tears in her eyes. ``She's just a baby. We'll do anything, anything, just don't harm her.''
``Anything?'' Count Olaf asked, his eyebrow rising. He leaned in toward Violet and gazed into her eyes. ``Anything? Would you, for instance, consider marrying me during tomorrow night's performance?''
Violet stared at him. She had an odd feeling in her stomach, as if she were the one being thrown from a great height. The really frightening thing about Olaf, she realized, was that he was very smart after all. He wasn't merely an unsavory drunken brute, but an unsavory, clever drunken brute.
``While you were busy reading books and making accusations,'' Count Olaf said, ``I had one of my quietest, sneakiest assistants skulk into your bedroom and steal little Sunny away. She is perfectly safe, for now. But I consider her to be a stick behind a stubborn mule.''
``Our sister is not a stick,'' Klaus said.
``A stubborn mule,'' Count Olaf explained, ``does not move in the direction its owner wants it to. In that way, it is like you children, who insist on mucking up my plans. Any animal owner will tell you that a stubborn mule will move in the proper direction if there is a carrot in front of it, and a stick behind it. It will move toward the carrot, because it wants the reward of food, and away from the stick, because it does not want the punishment of pain. Likewise, you will do what I say, to avoid the punishment of the loss of your sister, and because you want the reward of surviving this experience. Now, Violet, let me ask you again: will you marry me?''
Violet swallowed, and looked down at Count Olaf's tattoo. She could not bring herself to answer.
``Come now,'' Count Olaf said, his voice faking-a word which here means ``feigning''-kindness. He reached out a hand and stroked Violet's hair. ``Would it be so terrible to be my bride, to live in my house for the rest of your life? You're such a lovely girl, after the marriage I wouldn't dispose of you like your brother and sister.''
Violet imagined sleeping beside Count Olaf, and waking up each morning to look at this terrible man. She pictured wandering around the house, trying to avoid him all day, and cooking for his terrible friends at night, perhaps every night, for the rest of her life. But then she looked up at her helpless sister and knew what her answer must be. ``If you let Sunny go,'' she said finally, ``I will marry you.''
``I will let Sunny go,'' Count Olaf answered, ``after tomorrow night's performance. In the meantime, she will remain in the tower for safekeeping. And, as a warning, I will tell you that my assistants will stand guard at the door to the tower staircase, in case you were getting any ideas.''
``You're a terrible man,'' Klaus spat out, but Count Olaf merely smiled again.
``I may be a terrible man,'' Count Olaf said, ``but I have been able to concoct a foolproof way of getting your fortune, which is more than you've been able to do.'' With that, he began to stride toward the house. ``Remember that, orphans,'' he said. ``You may have read more books than I have, but it didn't help you gain the upper hand in this situation. Now, give me that book which gave you such grand ideas, and do the chores assigned to you.''
Klaus sighed, and relinquished-a word which here means ``gave to Count Olaf even though he didn't want to''-the book on nuptial law. He began to follow Count Olaf into the house, but Violet stayed still as a statue. She hadn't been listening to that last speech of Count Ola
f's, knowing it would be full of the usual self-congratulatory nonsense and despicable insults. She was staring at the tower, not at the top, where her sister was dangling, but the whole length of it. Klaus looked back at her and saw something he hadn't seen in quite some time. To those who hadn't been around Violet long, nothing would have seemed unusual, but those who knew her well knew that when she tied her hair up in a ribbon to keep it out of her eyes, it meant that the gears and levers of her inventing brain were whirring at top speed.
Chapter Ten
That night, Klaus was the Baudelaire orphan sleeping fitfully in the bed, and Violet was the Baudelaire orphan staying up, working by the light of the moon. All day, the two siblings had wandered around the house, doing the assigned chores and scarcely speaking to each other. Klaus was too tired and despondent to speak, and Violet was holed up in the inventing area of her mind, too busy planning to talk.
When night approached, Violet gathered up the curtains that had been Sunny's bed and brought them to the door to the tower stairs, where the enormous assistant of Count Olaf's, the one who looked like neither a man nor a woman, was standing guard. Violet asked whether she could bring the blankets to her sister, to make her more comfortable during the night. The enormous creature merely looked at Violet with its blank white eyes and shook its head, then dismissed her with a silent gesture.
Violet knew, of course, that Sunny was too terrified to be comforted by a handful of draperies, but she hoped that she would be allowed a few moments to hold her and tell her that everything would turn out all right. Also, she wanted to do something known in the crime industry as ``casing the joint.'' ``Casing the joint'' means observing a particular location in order to formulate a plan. For instance, if you are a bank robber-although I hope you aren't-you might go to the bank a few days before you planned to rob it. Perhaps wearing a disguise, you would look around the bank and observe security guards, cameras, and other obstacles, so you could plan how to avoid capture or death during your burglary.
The Bad Beginning Page 5
