Miss Marple – Miss Marple and Mystery: The Complete Short Stories. Агата Кристи

her.

      She asked a few questions, and finally declared that she understood perfectly the part that she had to play.

      The next day dawned bright and clear – a perfect day for one of the great events of the London Season, the bazaar at Orion House, promoted by the Countess of Anchester in aid of Ostrovian refugees in this country.

      Having regard to the uncertainty of the English climate, the bazaar itself took place within the spacious rooms of Orion House, which has been for five hundred years in the possession of the Earls of Anchester. Various collections had been loaned, and a charming idea was the gift by a hundred society women of one pearl each taken from their own necklaces, each pearl to be sold by auction on the second day. There were also numerous sideshows and attractions in the grounds.

      Jane was there early in the rôle of Miss Montresor. She wore a dress of flame-coloured marocain, and a small red cloche hat. On her feet were high-heeled lizard-skin shoes.

      The arrival of the Grand Duchess Pauline was a great event. She was escorted to the platform and duly presented with a bouquet of roses by a small child. She made a short but charming speech and declared the bazaar open. Count Streptitch and Princess Poporensky were in attendance upon her.

      She wore the dress that Jane had seen, white with a bold design of black, and her hat was a small cloche of black with a profusion of white ospreys hanging over the brim and a tiny lace veil coming half-way down the face. Jane smiled to herself.

      The Grand Duchess went round the bazaar, visiting every stall, making a few purchases, and being uniformly gracious. Then she prepared to depart.

      Jane was prompt to take up her cue. She requested a word with the Princess Poporensky and asked to be presented to the Grand Duchess.

      ‘Ah, yes!’ said Pauline, in a clear voice. ‘Miss Montresor, I remember the name. She is an American journalist, I believe. She has done much for our cause. I should be glad to give her a short interview for her paper. Is there anywhere where we could be undisturbed?’

      A small anteroom was immediately placed at the Grand Duchess’s disposal, and Count Streptitch was despatched to bring in Miss Montresor. As soon as he had done so, and withdrawn again, the Princess Poporensky remaining in attendance, a rapid exchange of garments took place.

      Three minutes later, the door opened and the Grand Duchess emerged, her bouquet of roses held up to her face.

      Bowing graciously, and uttering a few words of farewell to Lady Anchester in French, she passed out and entered her car which was waiting. Princess Poporensky took her place beside her, and the car drove off.

      ‘Well,’ said Jane, ‘that’s that. I wonder how Miss Montresor’s getting on.’

      ‘No one will notice her. She can slip out quietly.’

      ‘That’s true,’ said Jane. ‘I did it nicely, didn’t I?’

      ‘You acted your part with great distinction.’

      ‘Why isn’t the count with us?’

      ‘He was forced to remain. Someone must watch over the safety of Her Highness.’

      ‘I hope nobody’s going to throw bombs,’ said Jane apprehensively. ‘Hi! we’re turning off the main road. Why’s that?’

      Gathering speed, the car was shooting down a side road.

      Jane jumped up and put her head out of the window, remonstrating with the driver. He only laughed and increased his speed. Jane sank back into her seat again.

      ‘Your spies were right,’ she said, with a laugh. ‘We’re for it all right. I suppose the longer I keep it up, the safer it is for the Grand Duchess. At all events we must give her time to return to London safely.’

      At the prospect of danger, Jane’s spirits rose. She had not relished the prospect of a bomb, but this type of adventure appealed to her sporting instincts.

      Suddenly, with a grinding of brakes, the car pulled up in its own length. A man jumped on the step. In his hand was a revolver.

      ‘Put your hands up,’ he snarled.

      The Princess Poporensky’s hands rose swiftly, but Jane merely looked at him disdainfully, and kept her hands on her lap.

      ‘Ask him the meaning of this outrage,’ she said in French to her companion.

      But before the latter had time to say a word, the man broke in. He poured out a torrent of words in some foreign language.

      Not understanding a single thing, Jane merely shrugged her shoulders and said nothing. The chauffeur had got down from his seat and joined the other man.

      ‘Will the illustrious lady be pleased to descend?’ he asked, with a grin.

      Raising the flowers to her face again, Jane stepped out of the car. The Princess Poporensky followed her.

      ‘Will the illustrious lady come this way?’

      Jane took no notice of the man’s mock insolent manner, but of her own accord she walked towards a low-built, rambling house which stood about a hundred yards away from where the car had stopped. The road had been a cul-de-sac ending in the gateway and drive which led to this apparently untenanted building.

      The man, still brandishing his pistol, came close behind the two women. As they passed up the steps, he brushed past them and flung open a door on the left. It was an empty room, into which a table and two chairs had evidently been brought.

      Jane passed in and sat down. Anna Michaelovna followed her. The man banged the door and turned the key.

      Jane walked to the window and looked out.

      ‘I could jump out, of course,’ she remarked. ‘But I shouldn’t get far. No, we’ll just have to stay here for the present and make the best of it. I wonder if they’ll bring us anything to eat?’

      About half an hour later her question was answered.

      A big bowl of steaming soup was brought in and placed on the table in front of her. Also two pieces of dry bread.

      ‘No luxury for aristocrats evidently,’ remarked Jane cheerily as the door was shut and locked again. ‘Will you start, or shall I?’

      The Princess Poporensky waved the mere idea of food aside with horror.

      ‘How could I eat? Who knows what danger my mistress might not be in?’

      ‘She’s all right,’ said Jane. ‘It’s myself I’m worrying about. You know these people won’t be at all pleased when they find they have got hold of the wrong person. In fact, they may be very unpleasant. I shall keep up the haughty Grand Duchess stunt as long as I can, and do a bunk if the opportunity offers.’

      The Princess Poporensky offered no reply.

      Jane, who was hungry, drank up all the soup. It had a curious taste, but was hot and savoury.

      Afterwards she felt rather sleepy. The Princess Poporensky seemed to be weeping quietly. Jane arranged herself on her uncomfortable chair in the least uncomfortable way, and allowed her head to droop.

      She slept.

      Jane awoke with a start. She had an idea that she had been a very long time asleep. Her head felt heavy and uncomfortable.

      And then suddenly she saw something that jerked her faculties wide awake again.

      She was wearing the flame-coloured marocain frock.

      She sat up and looked around her. Yes, she was still in the room in the empty house. Everything was exactly as it had been when she went to sleep, except for two facts. The first was that the Princess Poporensky was no longer sitting on the other chair. The second was her own inexplicable change of costume.

      ‘I can’t have dreamt it,’ said Jane. ‘Because if I’d dreamt it, I shouldn’t be here.’

      She