Basil and the Royal Dare

by Eve Titus

  The duke looked surprised. “I see that your reputation is well-founded, sir. Yes, you have struck upon the issue at paw.”

  The duchess nodded, wringing a silk handkerchief between her paws. “Our guests brought along four teenagers of their own,” she began. “All seven youngsters struck up an immediate friendship.”

  “That is correct,” the duke said with a nod. “But like all youngsters of their age, they concocted some rather, er, unusual forms of fun.”

  The Mouse King of Bohemia stepped forward. “Yes, I am afraid my eldest son, Marek, struck upon the idea,” he said in exotically accented but otherwise perfect English. “The youngsters have been setting dares for one another.”

  “Often involving Pes,” his wife, the queen, added with a shudder.

  “Pes?” I said.

  “I expect that is the name of the dog we just encountered,” Basil told me, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  “Why, yes!” Elwood spoke up, surprised. “I didn’t think I’d told you the beast’s name.”

  Basil smiled. “You didn’t. But I find it helpful to know a smattering of other languages. And ‘Pes’ is the Bohemian word for ‘dog,’ is it not, Your Majesty?” he said, addressing the last bit to the king.

  “Yes,” the king said, seeming impressed—as was I, for Basil’s breadth of knowledge often surprised even his best friend!

  The duchess was still twisting her kerchief anxiously. “We do not know what the latest dare might have been,” she told Basil and me. “But the teens have disappeared without a trace, and I fear something has gone terribly awry. . . .” She allowed her voice to trail off, though tears glistened in her dark eyes.

  “Please, madam, try not to fret.” Basil bowed to her, then scanned the entire group. “May I have leave to question everyone here?”

  “Of course,” the duke said at once, and the king nodded his assent.

  “What can I do to help, Basil?” I asked.

  He regarded me briefly. “Nothing for the moment, Dawson,” he said. “If you can, try to reassure the ladies that now that I’m on the case, the fate of their offspring shall soon be known, for better or for worse.”

  I wasn’t sure I wished to share that last bit with the ladies. But I did my best to obey the first portion of Basil’s command. I spent the next half hour or more chatting with the duchess, the queen, and several other ladies while Basil circled the room, talking to each mouse in turn. I couldn’t hear much of his questioning, though I heard enough to understand that he was inquiring what they knew of the dares completed thus far, along with the mysterious final one that seemingly had led to the disappearance.

  Finally, Basil asked for attention. “I have some good news for you,” he told the assembled anxious mice. “The teen noblemice may indeed be missing, and I have no idea as of yet where they may be.”

  “That’s good news?” the duchess asked in surprise.

  Basil smiled. “Indeed it is,” he said. “For wherever your children may be, I can assure you that they’re not in the belly of the beast.”

  5

  The Search Begins

  THERE WAS A CLAMOR OF voices as the royals asked questions and exclaimed over what Basil had just said. Finally the duke raised a paw for silence.

  “Please, sir,” he said, addressing Basil with an air of slight skepticism. “How can you assure us of any such thing?”

  The king nodded. “With all due respect, we know this creature Pes much better than we might wish.” He glanced at the other Bohemians. “The dog is a terror, with no compunction about pursuing any mouse he can find.”

  “He nearly bit my tail off just weeks ago!” exclaimed another Bohemian royal, a cousin of the queen’s who had been introduced as Ladislav.

  Basil waited patiently, paws tucked behind his back, for the clamor to subside again. “If you will allow me, I shall tell you how I can assure you of exactly that,” he said. “You see, Dawson and I received a rather close-up look at Pes on our way here.”

  Elwood grimaced. “My apologies again, dear sirs.”

  “No need for that.” Basil held up a paw in protest. “For as luck would have it, that close encounter provided me with a good look at our prime suspect. And I saw no signs of blood, fur, or other evidence around his mouth and teeth.”

  “Oh my!” the King of Bohemia exclaimed, fanning himself with his paw.

  Basil ignored the reaction. “The dog also acted rather frustrated, telling me that he hasn’t had a successful hunt in a long time.”

  “However do you know so much about dog behavior, sir?” the duchess asked.

  Basil glanced at me and winked. “It’s all thanks to my mentor—Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” he said. “But never mind that. Many of you mentioned that you searched the castle for the youngsters before summoning me, yes?”

  “That is right,” Ladislav said, while others nodded. “We searched everywhere with no luck at all.”

  Basil nodded. “That clinches it. While a murderous cat might carry away its prize, dogs are generally rather messy hunters. If Pes had caught your children, there would be evidence at the scene of the crime.”

  “And we would have spotted that terrible evidence during our search,” Ladislav said, nodding as well. “I see! Very logical. But, then, what has happened to them?”

  “Could it be . . . ?” I hesitated, not wanting to put my chilling thought into words. “Er, could Cecil be our culprit?”

  The duke chuckled. “No need to worry about that, sir,” he told me. “Cecil is far too lazy to chase even one fat old mouse, let alone seven fit youngsters!”

  Several of the other royals chuckled and agreed, leaving me certain that my theory was well worth discarding.

  Basil’s pronouncement had quieted some of the adults’ fears. But they remained concerned. Where could the teens be, and why hadn’t they yet returned from their latest adventure?

  “That’s what I aim to find out,” Basil told them. “I shall analyze the information at paw and work backward toward a solution.”

  “Work backward?” the Queen of Bohemia echoed. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll need someone to take me to the last place the teens were seen,” Basil replied.

  Ladislav raised a paw at once. “I can take them,” he said.

  A cheerful British earl named George volunteered to come as well. “After all, you’ll need a local to help you get around this big old house,” he said.

  “I’ll come as well, if that’s all right?” Elwood spoke up, glancing at the duke, who nodded. “Let’s depart at once!”

  “Be careful, all of you,” the duke said.

  “And let us know what you find,” the duchess added. “I’m dreadfully worried about the youngsters—perhaps the boys might forget the time in their mischief, but my dear daughter, Clara, would never stay away so long without reason.”

  I joined the group as well, of course. The five of us took our leave, heading out of the room into the dark space between the walls. We scurried up pipes and through holes, making our way across the great house. Finally George held up a paw.

  “This is the place,” he whispered. “Isn’t that right, Ladislav?”

  The Bohemian royal nodded. “I last saw my cousin Marek in there. He was joining the other teens for another prank, though he would not tell me what was planned.”

  Basil peered out through a mouse-size hole in the wall. “Interesting,” he murmured.

  “What is it, Basil?” I looked out as well—and my eyes widened with alarm. The room before us appeared to be some kind of human dining area, with a long table at the center and several chairs and sofas scattered about.

  Lounging upon one of the sofas was a young human boy—and the beast Pes sat at his feet! The dog was gnawing on a scrap of blue-dyed fur stuffed with straw, which I took to be some sort of chew toy.

  The others looked out and saw the pair too. “That’s Prince Leo,” Ladislav told us. “And, of course, you are already acquainted with Pes.
. . .”

  I grimaced. “What are they doing?”

  “Use your powers of observation, dear Dawson,” Basil said. “There is a tray of sugary pastries—nearly empty. I deduce that the tray has been there since breakfast, and that Prince Leo has returned to have one more before it is taken away by the servants.”

  I saw that he was right. Leo was munching on a pastry matching the few left on the tray. I’m not ashamed to admit that the sight made my mouth water a little—after all, Elwood’s sudden arrival had interrupted our breakfast!

  “Don’t get too close to the hole,” George warned. “Otherwise that blasted dog might—”

  The rest of his words were lost in a flurry of loud barking, for Pes suddenly leaped to his feet and raced toward us. Even though I knew a sturdy wall stood between us and the beast, it took all my courage not to turn tail and run.

  Pes skidded to a stop in front of the hole, sniffing away with his huge, moist nose. Then he barked again.

  “Come.” Elwood sounded anxious. “We should be away before the human boy comes to investigate.”

  “Oh dear.” I glanced at my friend. “This case might be trickier than expected with that creature hanging around, eh, Basil?”

  A slight smile played at the corners of his muzzle. “Perhaps, Dawson,” he replied. “But it’s off to a fine start regardless of the dog’s presence. I’ve just spotted a clue!”

  6

  A Clue!

  “A CLUE?” ELWOOD EXCLAIMED. “WHAT is it, sir?”

  Basil pointed to the floor at our feet. “There,” he said. “Paw prints!”

  I leaned closer, squinting in the dim light within the walls. The others did the same.

  “By Jove, you’re right!” George exclaimed.

  Now I saw the prints too. They were white, clearly left by paws that had trodden in the sugar on that pastry tray!

  “Observe the size.” Basil stepped closer, measuring the prints against his own foot. “Smaller than an adult mouse—which means they were likely left by our missing teens.”

  Ladislav shot him an admiring look. “Well deduced, sir,” he said. “Let’s follow them and see where they lead!”

  “Exactly my thinking, my dear sir.” Basil led the way along the trail of paw prints.

  I hurried after him. “I expect that dog scared off the teens while they were helping themselves to the pastries,” I guessed. “That means they might be just ahead of us!”

  “I’m afraid it’s more likely these prints were made some time ago, Dawson,” Basil said. “The pastries smelled rather stale, which means they’ve been there for some time—perhaps since the earliest breakfast service this morning.”

  “Oh.” My heart sank as I realized we might not be as close as I’d hoped to finding the teens.

  The trail of sugary paw prints led us down several narrow corridors within the walls, then finally to another hidey-hole in the wainscoting. This one opened into a very large room filled with bustling human servants.

  “That’s the ballroom,” Elwood informed us.

  George nodded. “The humans are hosting a grand royal ball tomorrow evening, with their Bohemian visitors as the guests of honor.”

  I peeked out again. A human maid hurried past with a broom, soon followed by a servant carrying several stacked chairs.

  Basil was surveying the room. “I say,” he exclaimed, his gaze settling on a large item near the center of the room. “That’s a fine-looking photographic camera the humans have set up! Quite modern!”

  “Yes, the Prince of Wales is very proud of it,” Elwood said. “He’s been capturing images of the visitors since their arrival last week. I believe he plans to develop and present the photographs to them at the ball as a memento of the visit.”

  I stared at the camera with great curiosity. It consisted of a large wooden cabinet with a door set into it. Atop that was the camera machine itself, a mystifying contraption I could make neither head nor tail of. The whole thing was as tall as a man and nearly as wide.

  “Yes, very nice,” Basil murmured, sounding impressed. “A gelatin dry plate machine, if I’m not mistaken—very advanced indeed.”

  “It sounds as if you have an interest in photography, Basil,” George commented.

  Basil shrugged and turned away. “I have an interest in many things, sir,” he replied. “But never mind—we must continue the search.”

  “How?” Elwood peered out at the ballroom. “The humans are already hard at work sweeping the floor. The trail of paw prints ends here!”

  7

  The End of the Trail?

  NOW WHAT? WITH NO TRAIL of paw prints to follow and no other clue within sight, I was at a loss. Fortunately, however, Basil rarely finds himself in such a state. He was staring across the ballroom with keenly narrowed eyes.

  “Observe—Cecil has just entered,” he commented.

  Elwood barely spared the cat a glance. “Don’t worry. He won’t trouble us—or the teens, even if he happens to stumble across them.”

  George chuckled. “Indeed.”

  But Basil was still watching the royal feline. “All evidence points to the truth of your assertion that Cecil has no interest in chasing mice,” he said. “However, he is still a cat—with a cat’s instincts. And from the moment he entered the room, he has been staring at the camera!”

  I saw that he was right. Cecil had seated himself in a sunny spot on the floor. The servants were forced to dodge around him as they hurried about their work. But the cat paid no attention to any of the humans. His green eyes were trained on the large box camera at the center of the room.

  “That is strange,” I commented. “Why is he staring so?”

  Basil smiled. “Because that is where the young noblemice are hiding,” he exclaimed. “I’d wager my last crumb of cheese on it!”

  Ladislav looked surprised. “Do you really think so? Why would they hide in such a place?”

  “We shall ask them exactly that question after we rescue them,” Basil replied.

  “Rescue them—but how?” Elwood said.

  I saw his concern. As previously mentioned, the camera stood in the center of the room, with no other furniture, rug, or other possible hiding place anywhere nearby. With at least a dozen humans rushing around preparing for the ball, how would we ever reach the teens?

  George looked dejected. “I suppose the teens will have to continue hiding until nightfall,” he said. “Surely the humans will depart then, and the youngsters can make their way home.”

  “No need to wait.” Basil had a certain look in his eye that I recognized at once. He was concocting a plan!

  “What are you thinking, Basil?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer for a moment. I caught Elwood and George trading a confused look. Ladislav was still watching Cecil, who continued to stare at the camera.

  Finally Basil smiled. “I’ve got it,” he announced. He spun and pointed to Elwood. “You—you’ve already proven yourself fast and brave. . . .”

  8

  A Daring Plan

  I COULDN’T HELP FEELING WORRIED as we put Basil’s plan into action. Elwood had been eager to volunteer for a key part once he’d heard what the great detective had in mind. But would it work? Was it too dangerous? I dared not try to imagine all the possible ways it could go wrong.

  “Do you see him yet?” George whispered, peering out into the ballroom.

  “He’ll probably come in through that door.” Basil pointed across the cavernous room. “It’s standing open, see?”

  I did, and I was about to say so when a small blue blur entered the room—followed by a wildly barking Pes!

  “Here he comes!” Ladislav cried.

  I held my breath, watching the blue dog toy. To the humans it probably looked as if Pes had batted the thing into the room and was now chasing after it. But we mice knew the truth—Elwood had yanked the straw out of the chew toy and then pulled the blue fabric over himself as a disguise. It was his scurrying feet propelling t
he toy into and around the ballroom!

  Shouts erupted from humans all around the room as Elwood dashed beneath a maid’s cleaning cart. The pursuing Pes crashed into it, nearly tipping it over. Then he pranced around, barking madly and trying to dive under the cart, though he was far too big to fit.

  “No! Naughty dog!” one of the servants scolded. “Grab him, someone!”

  “Careful,” a maid called out. “Prince Leo adores that little monster. Don’t hurt him or there will be trouble.”

  Several servants descended on Pes, who ignored them as he continued to bark and try to reach Elwood. The rest of the humans paused in their work to watch.

  “They’re properly distracted now,” Basil hissed. “Let’s go!”

  The four of us dashed out of our hidey-hole. My legs felt weak with terror as I realized the mouse-hunting dog was only a few yards away. Luckily, however, his attention remained fully on the cleaning cart.

  We made it to the box camera without being noticed. There was a small hole in the bottom, more than large enough for a mouse to squeeze through. Seconds later we were inside the cabinet.

  But we found it rather crowded, for huddled within were seven teenage mice!

  “Cousin Ladislav!” a young teen girl cried, flinging herself at the mouse in question. “Did you come to rescue us?”

  “That is right, Silvie,” Ladislav replied. “Thanks to the great detective Basil of Baker Street, who solved the mystery of where to find you!”

  A handsome older teen bowed to Basil. “Many thanks, sir,” he said. “I am Marek, prince of Bohemia.”

  There were two more Bohemian royals as well, a younger lad named Radim and an older girl, Marek’s sister, known as Pavla. The British youngsters included Clara, the daughter of the duke and duchess, her brother, Hugo, and their cousin, Florrie.