“Of course not! But – "
“We were never left in peace because of whiners and solicitors. Each day would see more of them, with their big teeth and unctuous grins. Worst of all was the Nature Society.”
“The Naturalist Society?”
“Those are the ones! I detest the sound of the name: They were beggars, thieves, carnivores! They never desisted, never relented; always a plea here and a wheedle there! Would you believe it? One time they wanted to build a grand palace for their comfort upon our ancient lands!”
"Extraordinary!" said Wayness, feeling a hypocrite and a traitor. “Incredible!"
"I set them right, I can tell you! They got nothing!"
Greatly daring, Wayness said thoughtfully: "'Count Raul did some very interesting work on Naturalist Society data. Do you know of any papers pertaining to the Naturalist Society?”
"Nothing! Have I not described these people? I emptied the file into a box and sent it away where I will never be reminded of money spent so foolishly."
Wayness smiled in polite agreement. The interview was going poorly. “As for me, I will cost you nothing, and in the end the Count's reputation may well be enhanced.”
Countess Ottilie made a scornful sound. “Reputation? A joke! I care nothing for my own, even less for that of Count Raul.”
Wayness forged grimly ahead. "Still, Count Raul's name is honored at the university. No doubt he owes much of his stature to your encouragement."
“No doubt."
“Perhaps then I might dedicate my thesis to “Count Raul and Countess Ottilie de Flamanges!"
“As you like. If that is all you came for, you may go."
Wayness ignored the remark. “Count Raul kept records of his collections and acquisitions, as well as his researches?”
"Of course. If nothing else, he was meticulous.”
“I would like to look through his records, so that I might clear up certain puzzles."
"Impossible. We keep such things locked up nowadays.”
Refusal was no more than Wayness had been expecting. “It would of course be in the interests of science, and of course I would be helped in my career. I assure you that I would be no trouble to you."
Countess Ottilie prodded the lawn with her cane. "Not another word! Yonder is the gate; go the way you have come, and at once!"
Wayness hesitated, reluctant to accept so devastating a defeat. "May I come again, when you are feeling better?"
Countess Ottilie stood erect, showing herself to be a woman taller than Wayness had assumed. "Did you not hear me? I want none of you about, prying and picking, always reaching with your fingers, nibbling at my things."
Wayness turned away and marched in a rage of her own to the gate.
IV.
The time was noon. Wayness stood in the road outside the gates to Mirky Porod, waiting for the omnibus which, according to the schedule, passed each hour. She looked up the road; no bus was in sight and no sound could be heard save the singing of insects Wayness went to sit on a stone bench. Her circumstances were more or less as she had expected them to be; nevertheless, she felt deflated and depressed. What worry”? Wayness forced herself to ponder. Several schemes suggested themselves, all either impractical, illegal, immoral or dangerous. Wayness liked none of them, especially all variations on the theme of kidnapping one or more of the dogs.
Down the avenue from Mirky Porod came Sophie the erstwhile maid, carrying a pair of bulging suitcases. She looked at Wayness. "Here we are again. How did your interview go?"
“Not well."
"I could have told you that from the start." Sophie put down her suitcases and joined Wayness on the bench. As for me, I am finished, definitely and forever. I have suffered enough from that old reptile and her curs.”
Wayness gave rueful assent. “She has an uncertain temper.”
“Oh, her temper is certain enough,“ said Sophie. “It is always bad, and niggardly to boot she pays as little as she can and she wants attention at all hours. No wonder she has trouble keeping staff."
“How many folk work for her?”
“Let me see. Mr. Lenk and Madame Lenk, a cook and a scullion, four maids, a footman who serves as chauffeur, two gardeners and a boy. I will say this; Mr. Lenk makes sure there's a good table, and no one is truly over-worked. Lenk is sometimes a bit amorous, but he can be controlled by means of a hint to Madame Lenk, who then makes Lenk so miserable that one almost takes pity on the poor man. He is surprisingly quick and one must be agile enough to keep from being backed into a corner, in which case there is often no help for it."
"It would seem that Lenk keeps everyone happy at Mirky Porod.”
“He tries his best, for a fact. In the main he is easy enough, and holds no grudges."
“Are there truly ghosts at the castle?"
“That is a serious question. Everyone who has heard them claims that he has heard them, you get my meaning.
As for me, you would not find me anywhere near North Tower when the moon is at the full."
“What does Countess Ottilie say about the ghosts?”
“She says it was ghosts who pushed Count Raul from the window, and I suppose that she would know best."
“So it would seem.”
The omnibus arrived and the two rode to Tzem. Wayness went directly to the telephone in The Iron Pig and called Mirky Porod. The face of a middle-aged man, sleek and suave, with plump jowls, lank black hair, drooping eyelids and a neat little mustache appeared on the screen. Wayness asked: “Am I addressing Mr. Lenk?" From his end of the connection, Lenk observed Wayness' image with approval and touched back his mustache. '"True enough! I am Gustav Lenk. How may I oblige you, and be assured that I will make every effort to do so!"
“It is simple enough, Mr. Lenk. I have been talking with Sophie, who has just resigned her position at Mirky Porod."
“That is unfortunately the case.”
“I wish to apply for the position, if it is still open.”
“It is still open, right enough. I have barely had time to learn of the vacancy myself." Lenk cleared his throat and examined Wayness' image with even greater Interest. “You have had experience at this kind of work?”
“Not a great deal, but I am sure that with your help I will have no problems.”
Lenk said cautiously: “In ordinary circumstances this would be correct. However, if Sophie had anything to say about Countess Ottilie – “
“She spoke at length, and with emotion."
“Then you must know that the difficulties are not the work itself, but Countess Ottilie and her pets.”
"I understand this clearly, Mr. Lenk.”
"I must point out, also, that the pay is not large. You would start at twenty sols a week. However, your uniform is furnished, and there are no deductions. If I may say so, the staff is congenial, and all of us realize that dealing with the Countess is difficult. Nevertheless, it must be accomplished, and in fact this is the basis for all our employments."
“That is well understood, Mr. Lenk.”
“You have no aversion to dogs?"
Wayness shrugged. “I can put up with them."
Lenk nodded. “In that case, you may come out at once and we will fit you into the routine with as little delay as possible. Now then: your name?”
“I am – Wayness reflected a moment” – Marya Smitt.”
“Previous employer?”
“I have no references at hand, Mr. Lenk.”
“In your case, I think we can make an exception. I will see you presently.”
Wayness went to her room. She combed her hair straight back over her scalp, drew it tight and tied it with a black ribbon at the nape of her neck. She inspected herself in the mirror. The change, so she thought, made her seem older and wiser, and definitely more competent.
Wayness departed the inn, rode the omnibus to Mirky Porod and, now full of apprehensions and uncertainty carried her suitcase up the avenue to the side entrance.
Lenk was rather taller and more ponderous than Wayness had expected, and carried himself with the dignity befitting his position. Still, he greeted Wayness with affability and took her into the servant’s lounge, where she met Madame Lenk a stout woman with graying black hair cut unflatteringly short, strong arms and a brisk decisive manner.
Together, Lenk and Madame Lenk instructed Wayness in regard to her duties. In general, she must attend to Countess Ottilie and her wants, and pay no heed to her cantankerousness, and always be ready to dodge blows of the cane. “It is a nervous reaction, “said Lenk. "She only means to convey a mood of dissatisfaction."
“Still, I cannot approve the tactic,” said Madame Lenk.
"One time I was bending to pick up a journal she had dropped and without so much as a by-your-leave here came the swish of the cane, catching me broad abeam. I was naturally disturbed and inquired why Her Ladyship had struck the blow. “It was a matter of convenience,” she said. I started to say more but she waved her cane and told me to make a selection on the list of misdeeds for which I had gone unpunished and place a check-mark against the item.”
“In short,” said Lenk, "be on your guard at all times."
“While we are on the subject," said Madame Lenk, "I will remark that Mr. Lenk himself is often a bit too friendly with the girls, and sometimes he goes so far as to forget his manners."
Lenk made a gallant gesture. “My dear, you exaggerate, and you will alarm poor Marya so that she will flee at the sight of me."
"That is not her only recourse, “said Madame Lenk. She addressed herself to Wayness. "If Lenk should ever forget himself and start to take liberties, you need only murmur the words ‘Hell on Earth’. “
“ 'Hell on Earth'? It is a cryptic message."
“Exactly! But if Lenk does not desist from his efforts, I will explain it to him in detail."
Lenk showed an uneasy smell. “Madame Lenk of course is joking. At Mirky Porod we work in harmony and live at peace with each other."
“Except during our encounters with the Countess, course. You must never cross her or contradict her no matter what her nonsense, and never despise her dogs, and always clean their horrid little messes cheerfully, as if it were all great fun.”
“I will do my best,” said Wayness.
Madame Lenk fitted Wayness out in a black uniform with a white apron and a white gauze cap, with wings protruding an inch or so over the ears. Examining in the mirror, Wayness was confident that Countess would not recognize her for Wayness Tamm the importunate student.
Madame Lenk conducted Wayness about the castle, avoiding only the North Tower. “There is nothing there save disembodied sprits, or so it is claimed. I myself have seen none of these, though truly I have heard odd noises which were probably squirrels or bats. In any event, you need not worry about the North Tower. Now then, here is the library. The double doors lead into Count Raul's old study, which is used but seldom, and the doors are kept locked. Here is the Countess; I will introduce you.”
Countess Ottilie gave Wayness the briefest of inspections, then went to sit in an upholstered chair. “Marya, is it? Very good, Marya! You will find me an indulgent mistress, far too indulgent, perhaps. I make few demands. Since I am old, I require a good deal of running and fetching, and you must learn where I keep my things. Every day the routine is much the same, except Saturday when I play at cards, and on the first of each month when I ride to Draczeny to visit the shops. You will quickly learn this routine, since it is not difficult.”
“Now you must meet my little friends, who are most important to me. There: Chusk, Porter, Mikki, Toop.” As she spoke she pointed a crooked forefinger. “There: Sammy, now scratching herself, and Dimpkin, and oh! you naughty Fotsel! You know you should not raise your leg in the house! Now Marya must sop up behind you. Finally, under the chair is Raffis." The Countess sat back. “Marya, tell me their names, so that I will know you were attending.”
“Hm.” Wayness pointed. “That is Mikki, and that is Fotsel who made the mess; I remember you well enough. Raffis is under the chair. That spotted one is Chusk, I believe, and that one, who was scratching, is Sammy. The others I don’t remember.”
“You have done quite well,” said Countess Ottilie, “even though you have neglected Porter, Toop and Dimpkin: all dogs of reputation and character.”
“No doubt,” said Wayness. “Madame Lenk, if you will show me the mop and bucket, I will clean up the wet at this moment.”
“We find that a sponge is most effective for minor nuisances," said Madame Lenk. "You will find equipment in the closet.”
So began Wayness’ stint as domestic servant. Every day was different, even though each followed a standard routine. At eight o'clock every morning Wayness entered Countess Ottilie’s bedroom to kindle the fire, even though the castle was adequately heated by ergothermic mechanisms. The Countess slept in an enormous old bed among a dozen large fluff pillows of down cased in pink, pale blue and yellow silk. The dogs slept on cushions in boxes ranged along the side wall and woe betide the interloper who chose to test out another dog s cushion.
Wayness was next required to draw back the curtains which the Countess insisted should be tightly drawn against any sliver of exterior light; especially she detested moonlight playing through the windows. Wayness next assisted the Countess to prop herself up among her cushions, amid curses, abjurations and cries of accusation: “Marya, can you not be careful! You are hurting me with your hauling and yanking! I am not made of iron, or of leather! Now then, you know I am not comfortable in this position! Push that yellow pillow farther down behind my back. Ah! Relief at last! Bring me my tea. Are the dogs all well?”
“All fit and blooming, Your Ladyship, Dimpkin is doing its business as usual in the corner. I think Chusk has taken a dislike to Porter.”
“It will soon pass by. Bring me my tea; don’t stand there like a ninny."
“Yes, Your Ladyship."
After placing the tea tray on the bed and commenting upon the state of the weather, Wayness next rang for Fosco the footman, who led the dogs away for their feeding and a chance to relieve their bladders and bowels in the side yard. In due course, Wayness assisted the Countess with her own routines of the morning, again to the accompaniment of complaints, threats and recriminations, to which Wayness paid little heed, though keeping a wary eye upon the cane. When the Countess had been dressed and seated at her table, Wayness rang down for her breakfast, which was delivered by way of a dumb-waiter.