“Fraulein Serilde is with her. They will not dawdle once the sun sinks below the peaks, and with the wind increasing.” Ragoczy glanced toward the shining windows. “I should change my coat since the Magistrate is coming. He will expect suitable regard for his presence.” He thought for several silent seconds, “And I should probably write a note to Kreuzbach; I may need an advocate before this is over.”
“Will you want to dispatch a messenger to him?” Rogier asked.
“Not just yet, and not with the weather about to change.” He indicated the shining sky outside his unshuttered windows. “You can see how it is moving those thin ribbons of clouds.”
“You’re certain of that?” Rogier asked, squinting at the windows and the vista beyond. “Thin clouds are common enough in winter.”
“As much as I am of anything so ephemeral as weather. The wind has shifted to the north-east and the ice on the pond is thicker. This sunshine is just an intermission between storms.” Ragoczy reached over and closed his journal. “I will change, see Kleinerhoff, and then go on to my study. You will find a note to Kreuzbach in my secretary-desk; if you decide to send it—”
Rogier nodded. “If you need his advice, I will find someone to carry it to Speicher, someone reputable.”
“I need not have asked, old friend.” He stopped at the door and rocked back on his heel. “We would do well to go carefully. Tell the staff to be helpful to the Magistrate, and to take care to answer any questions he may put to them.”
“If that is what you want,” said Rogier.
“It is what is needed,” said Ragoczy as he opened the door. “I heard wolves last night.”
“As bad as last year?” Rogier asked.
“No, nor as bad as the year before. But they are proof that spring is still some weeks away. All the livestock must be in folds and pens tonight.” He rubbed his chin. “The shave is still good enough. I have another four or five days left before the next one.”
“That’s so,” said Rogier.
“I take it you have ordered refreshments?”
“And left Uchtred attending to their preparation.”
“Thank you, old friend. I will be in my study in twenty minutes or so.” He went out the door and started down the hall toward the stairs, pausing only when he heard a door on the floor below being quietly closed; it sounded as if it might be the library or the music room. Who, he asked himself, was still in the house and might be on this floor? And what would anyone be doing in the library or the music room? Almost at once he chided himself for being too ready to see enemies in the woodwork: this was not China or Peru or Delhi or Russia, and although he was a foreigner, he was not without position in the region. He continued down to his private apartments and let himself in to his outer chamber where his elegant armoire stood along with three commodore chests and a handsome marquetry chiffonier. Lacking a reflection, he paid no attention to the fine pier mirror of Venetian glass that stood next to the closet; pulling off his coat, he left it over the largest chest and went to the armoire to select one of more formal cut: he settled on a new, double-breasted claw-tail coat of black Florentine wool, the revers finished in black-silk twill. This he pulled on and began to check the folds of his silken cravat; nothing felt obviously awry, so he buttoned his coat, tugged at the hem of his waistcoat, and left the room to go down to discover what Herr Kleinerhoff had to tell him, taking the servants’ stairs so that he could see what the state of preparation was in the kitchen before seeking out his visitor.
Rogier was back in the kitchen when Ragoczy walked into it; he perused Ragoczy’s change of clothing and very nearly smiled. “The Magistrate will be impressed. Just elegant enough to remind him you are of higher degree than he.”
“So long as he is willing to listen to me, then all should be well,” said Ragoczy. “Uchtred is—”
“In the creamery. The butter should be churned by now, and he is also getting cream to whip.”
“The Magistrate should enjoy that,” said Ragoczy. “And where is Herr Kleinerhoff?”
“In the reception room. I have just taken a tray to him.”
“Excellent,” said Ragoczy, then added, “Perhaps it might be prudent to warn the household of our impending visit? They might be alarmed if they stumble upon the Magistrate and his escort unprepared.”
“I’ll attend to it,” said Rogier, nodding to Uchtred as he came back into the kitchen with two large wooden containers in his hands. “He is going to make an omelette for the Magistrate, and offer the brandied fruit with this morning’s bread. Brandy and wine, of course.”
Uchtred set down the cream and new butter. “I should be ready to crack the eggs in half an hour.”
“That should suffice, but delay your omelette until the Magistrate is safely through the door,” said Ragoczy, and continued on through the kitchen toward the front of the château. He tapped once on the reception room door and stepped inside to find Herr Kleinerhoff biting into a curl of monk’s-head cheese. “How good to see you again, head-man. I understand you come with tidings.”
“Comte,” Kleinerhoff sputtered as he struggled to get his mouth around the frill of cheese, his eyes boggling. Belatedly he shoved himself to his feet. “I … Comte, I … you must excuse—” Tall and bulky as he was, his size made little impression on Ragoczy.
“You may sit down and finish your morsel,” said Ragoczy, indicating the tray atop the whatnot near the Dutch room-stove.
Kleinerhoff sank into his chair and muttered his thanks around the cheese. He reached for one of the pickled onions to help moisten the cheese so he could swallow it.
“I surmise you have come in advance of the Magistrate for some purpose other than to warn us? If the Magistrate intends to catch us unaware, this is not the way to accomplish his end.” Ragoczy drew up one of the two other chairs in the room and sat down.
“He does not suspect you, Comte, although some of the landholders in the vicinity do.” He stared at Ragoczy, not daring to take anything more to eat; his second swallow cleared his mouth.
“That is something, at least,” said Ragoczy.
“Yet we all agree that they have remained somewhere in the local mountains since their thefts continue.” Kleinerhoff waved his hand to address all the region beyond the château. “They would not be remaining here if they didn’t have some assurance of security, or so the Magistrate believes, which makes it likely that they have help from someone. Therefore an inquiry must be made.”
“Very sensible,” said Ragoczy. “Certainly the landowners in the region have reason to worry. Merchants, as well, have been discommoded by the highwaymen.”
“Truly.” Kleinerhoff rocked from foot to foot. “It is very troublesome, knowing that these robbers are near at hand, but still we are unable to put a stop to what they do. Four days ago they took six sacks of oats and two sheep from Didier Foutinz in Saint-Ange, four leagues from here. Despite our best efforts, they remain at large, which raises doubts in the minds of many. I, as head-man in Sacre-Sang, know how much trouble these men have caused.”
“You must hear all the complaints, and sooner than most,” said Ragoczy, then indicated the chair Kleinerhoff had vacated. “Please. Sit down.”
“Didier Foutinz himself came to tell me. Saint-Ange is a very small village. Most of us think little of it.”
“The folk are therefore tempting targets for crime. Tell me what you have discovered about the robbers.”
Kleinerhoff sat, but looked distressed. “The Magistrate instructed me to reveal as little as possible. But if there is something you would like to impart to me, I will be sure the Magistrate hears of it, so that he may allow for that in his examination.”
“I think it may be best if I wait for the Magistrate, to learn what it is he is trying to find out,” said Ragoczy. “Very well, then: enjoy your refreshments and excuse me until the Magistrate arrives.” He inclined his head politely, turned, and left Herr Kleinerhoff alone in the reception room. It was a short distanc
e to his study, and he covered it quickly, going to his secretary-desk. Drawing a sheet of paper from its drawer, he selected a nib and used the pen-knife to trim it before he sat down to write to Kreuzbach. When that was complete, he took a second sheet of paper and prepared some instructions for Rogier. He was just setting his seal on the envelope when the sound of horses at the front of the château alerted him to the arrival of the Magistrate and his escort. He closed the front of the secretary-desk, then adjusted his cuffs as he heard Balduin open the front door. Rising to his feet he went to greet his guests.
Magistrate Lindenblatt was a tall, angular man approaching fifty, dressed in a long fur cloak and carrying a leather portfolio; he was followed by four soldiers, each armed with two pistols and a breechloading Brevetee rifle and carrying ammunition boxes. Because Lindenblatt was somewhat short-sighted, he used a pince-nez to look about him. He removed his cloak, revealing a conservative coat and waistcoat of boiled Prussian-blue wool, and dark-gray unmentionables. The ride had left him in slight disarray, and he attempted to remedy this as he pulled off his gloves. “Comte Franciscus,” he said, bowing just enough to be polite; he had met the Comte briefly on a number of occasions but had never had reason to exchange more than the most perfunctory greetings. “I take it Herr Kleinerhoff is here before me.”
“He is, Herr Magistrate Lindenblatt.” Ragoczy copied the bow.
“This is my escort.” He indicated the soldiers. “I take it you have a room where they may rest and get warm?”
“Balduin will show them the way,” and Ragoczy added, “The staff reception room, I think. It is not in use just now.”
“I will attend to it,” said Balduin as he finished hanging the Magistrate’s cloak in the small closet near the door; such an important guest deserved more than a humble peg for his cloak.
“Thank you.” Ragoczy indicated the direction to the parlor. “Magistrate—after you?”
Lindenblatt was used to a certain deference, but not from men of the Comte’s rank, and so he hesitated before starting down the corridor, Ragoczy half a step behind him. “You do understand, Comte, that I would prefer not to have to do this, but with the talk all over the region, an effort must be made.”
“I am certainly aware that this is a difficult time for Yvoire and the local villages,” said Ragoczy, entering the parlor with the Magistrate.
“That it is.” Lindenblatt stood in the center of the parlor, taking in its fine proportions and beautiful appointments. “Very nice, Comte. Very nice indeed.”
“Thank you,” said Ragoczy. “If you will have a seat? The settee is reckoned to be quite comfortable.”
Lindenblatt moved behind the low table and sat down. “Most comfortable.”
Ragoczy pulled up a Turkish chair upholstered in silk-and-leather, and gave the Magistrate his full attention. “What am I to do to assist you?”
When Lindenblatt spoke, it was to ask, “How large is this château?”
“Nineteen rooms, in the house itself. There is also a bakery and creamery, a barn, a stable, a bath-house, and a small gate-house, which is much in need of repair.” He touched his palms together and added, “I employ a staff of eleven men, three boys, and four women.”
“So your declarations say,” Lindenblatt stated. “Your banker also informs me that you have a considerable amount on deposit, although he will not tell me how much.”
“Of course,” said Ragoczy.
“Of course,” Lindenblatt echoed. “Which is what makes my purpose so very awkward. That a man in your situation should be thought capable of countenancing such amerciable activities is distressing.” The admission was a difficult one, and he looked away from his host to the three framed paintings at right angles to the fireplace. “Do you collect art, Comte?”
“In a small way.” He nodded to the mosaic icon next to the chimney, showing Saint Ephraem holding his book open to be read. “That is probably my most unusual piece. I found it in Constantinople.” He did not add that the year had been 1448.
“Very interesting.” He fidgeted and then forced himself to be still.
Taking the direction of their discussion into his own managing, Ragoczy said, “Perhaps you would like to tell me why you have come? With so much snow on the road, you have some urgency, and Herr Kleinerhoff has informed me of the general nature of your concerns, which I share. You need not soften the blow for me: I appreciate concision.” His manner remained comfortably polite but there was something in his steady gaze that impressed Lindenblatt.
“I very much regret the circumstances that—” He stopped, visibly gathered his thoughts, and continued. “Due to suspicions about you and the robbers who have infested the region, I am about to assign two of my escorts to you in this house until such time as the robbers are brought before me in court, or you are exonerated of all suspicions. You are not to go beyond your property without at least one of the men accompanying you, and you are not to leave the region without permission of my court.” He scowled at the table in front of him. “Any dealings you have with the robbers will be discovered and noted.”
Wholly unflustered, Ragoczy framed his question carefully. “I have an attorney-at-law in Speicher; may I instruct him to prepare a brief to submit to you on my behalf?”
“It is somewhat irregular, but it is acceptable to me. If it comes to trial, you will need to find a Swiss advocate.” Linbenblatt sat a little straighter and spoke more quickly as he went on. “Any correspondence with the attorney must be read by the guards. They are literate and have had some experience in dealing with covert exchanges.”
“I will be expected to house and feed these guards?” Ragoczy asked urbanely.
“For the time they are here, yes. The court might refund a portion of the costs you incur on their behalf, assuming you are found blameless.” The Magistrate gave a little sigh. “It is a demand that troubles me, and if your innocence is established, it will be considered an imposition, but the court cannot be seen to accommodate crime.”
“Certainly not,” said Ragoczy. “I’ll instruct my manservant to keep track of the costs the men incur.”
“Our efforts to root out the criminals will begin in earnest as soon as the snow melts enough to allow easy passage on the major roads. It is impossible to conduct a proper search at this time of year, but this is also the time the robbers must be receiving the most help from whomever is aiding them, and therefore, we must be on guard, to prevent the robbers’ allies from providing food and supplies for the winter. We will be dispatching patrols to all the villages in the region: Sacre-Sang, Saint-Brede, Le Roche, Halle, Saint-Ange, Mervelle, Niecte, and Lederin, to make inquiries.”
“Is anyone else in this region being asked to take in guards and confine his activities?” Ragoczy inquired.
“Not yet,” said the Magistrate, clearly unhappy with this revelation. “I regret the necessity, but we must take action.”
“Certainly you must, and promptly.” Ragoczy held up one hand to stop any more explanations; he lost none of his cordial demeanor. “Then I should perhaps mention that I have planned to travel in March, assuming the matter of the outlaws is not settled by then. I am bidden to Austria, to the seats of Graf von Scharffensee and Graf von Ravensberg. The times are set and it would be very awkward to renege on either engagement.”
“It may be necessary to ask you to disappoint the earlier commitment. My guards would have no authority outside of Switzerland, and if you absent yourself before the matter of the robbers is settled, at least in regard to you yourself, it may be seen as flight.”
“I will instruct my attorney to address that in his brief.” He stopped as Balduin knocked on the door; regarding Lindenblatt he asked, “Are you placing me under arrest?”
“No, but I am giving you an Order of Detention, on the terms I have already described.” His eyes flicked toward the door. “Do your servants gossip?”
“I have always assumed so,” said Ragoczy, rising to answer the door.
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��Then you may want to warn them that they may be questioned by the guards.” This last was offered as a kind of truce. “I hope they will not have to appear in court.”
“And I, as well,” said Ragoczy as he went to admit his steward to the parlor. “I have ordered a light repast for you, Magistrate Lindenblatt. I hope you will enjoy it.” He stood aside to allow Balduin to bring the well-laden silver tray to the low table in front of the settee. “If there is anything more you would want, you have only to tell me.”
“This is most gracious of you, Comte,” said Lindenblatt as Balduin bowed and withdrew, pausing in his departure to quietly inform Ragoczy that Madame von Scharffensee had returned and was in the music room.
“Tell her I will join her in a little while,” said Ragoczy, then returned to the Turkish chair, drew up the ottoman, and prepared to answer all questions Magistrate Egmond Talbot Lindenblatt might put to him.
Text of a letter from Reinhart Olivier Kreuzbach, attorney-at-law and factor, at Speicher near the Kyll River, Rhenish Prussia, to Saint-Germain Ragoczy, Comte Franciscus at Château Ragoczy near Lake Geneva, Yvoire, Switzerland; carried by professional courier and delivered twelve days after it was written.
To Saint-Germain Ragoczy, Comte Franciscus, the greetings of Reinhart Olivier Kreuzbach in Speicher, on this, the 20thday of January, 1818,
My dear Comte,
I have in hand your request for a brief to be prepared regarding your situation. First, let me tell you how shocked I am that a man of such probity as you possess should ever be regarded as a supporter of desperate criminals. Second, I assure you that I will attend to this with all due haste, and see that all information I can ethically release is provided to the Magistrate Lindenblatt in an amicus curiae presentation as speedily as may be. In addition, I will present assurances of your determination not to become a fugitive, and will attempt to have the soldiers removed from your château. I will, as you suggest, provide records of your trading company activities in order to demonstrate your own losses to robbers as well as providing some notion of the extent of your resources.
Saint-Germain 21: Borne in Blood: A Novel of the Count Saint-Germain Page 26
