The Mandie Collection (78 page)

“Celia, where there's a will, there's a way. We just have to figure out the way,” Mandie told her, looking about the empty hallway.

“Mandie, what about that carriage we saw come out of the building?” Celia reminded her. “We don't know which way it came. It could have come out of one of those side tunnels.”

“I haven't forgotten about that carriage,” Mandie assured her. “But it was not the same one we followed out here. It wasn't pulled by Clydesdale horses.”

“You're right,” Celia acknowledged.

Mandie stooped to look at the bottom of the door. “I don't see any way we could pry open the door from the bottom. But then the lock is so big we probably couldn't get it loose, anyway.” She stooped to peek through the keyhole again. Jonathan had not moved. “Jonathan! Jonathan!” she called.

He still didn't move.

“We sure could use some help,” Celia remarked. “But we don't even have a way to get back to town and get any.”

Mandie walked around in circles in front of the locked door, as she tried to think of some solution.

“Mandie, Snowball is having a fit to get down. Could we just tie his leash onto something so he can walk around a little?” Celia asked. Snowball wiggled furiously in Celia's arms.

“Of course,” Mandie agreed. She took her kitten from Celia and set him down while she held onto his red leash. “Let's see, Snowball, I'll just tie this somewhere.” She looked around and decided to tie the leash to the handle of the door next to Jonathan's. “There! Now you can stretch your legs.”

Mandie turned back to the room Jonathan was in, and the girls tried shaking the door again. It fit so tightly that it wouldn't even rattle. They kept peeking through the keyhole to see whether Jonathan had moved.

“Celia, do you think we could stick something in that hole that would turn the lock?” Mandie asked. “It's so big l can almost reach my finger inside the place where the bolts slide shut.” She poked her forefinger into the small open space in the lock.

“Maybe we could force a stick into it and push the bolt back,” Celia suggested.

“Good idea!” Mandie agreed.

But everywhere they turned there was nothing but cobwebs.

Celia shivered. “I have the idea this place is never used, Mandie. Look at all the cobwebs,” she said.

“Yeah,” Mandie said, looking down at the passageway floor. “I can't even see any wheel tracks in the dust on these cobblestones. Just footprints going both ways.” Following her Cherokee instinct, she stooped to examine them. “Several sizes of shoes made these prints,” she said. “And they all lead to the room where Jonathan is.” She stood up and sighed. “Oh, if only Uncle Ned were here, he'd know what to do!”

Uncle Ned was her father's old Cherokee friend. He had always watched over Mandie and often rescued her in times of trouble. But Mandie had not allowed him to accompany her on this journey to Europe.

“I didn't want him to come with us on this trip,” Mandie muttered. “You know, Celia, sometimes I sure make big mistakes. I thought I was all grown up because I'd had my thirteenth birthday. I thought l didn't need Uncle Ned to watch over me, but now I realize how wrong I was. I think if I live to be a hundred, I'll always
need
Uncle Ned.”

“But he's so old already he couldn't possibly be living when you get to be a hundred,” Celia reasoned.

“I don't want to think about that,” Mandie said, whirling around to face the door again. She stooped to look through the keyhole. Jonathan had not moved. And she was becoming worried about him.

Suddenly Snowball lurched for a creature that ran across the passageway. The leash stopped him short and the door jerked open.

“That was a rat, Mandie!” Celia squeaked. She held her long skirts high and shrank back against the other wall.

“I know, but it's gone now. I saw it go on down the tunnel,” Mandie said, shivering at the thought of such a thing.

Snowball's leash had tangled around him when the door came open, and Mandie stooped to straighten it. When she stood again, she glanced into the cell and noticed another door inside.

“Celia, look!” she exclaimed. “There's a door here that must open into the room where Jonathan is! Look!”

In the dim light from the tiny window high overhead, they approached the dirty door. A heavy metal crossbar held it shut. Snowball, still attached to his leash, followed Mandie into the room.

“Let's see if we can move that bar,” Mandie said, glancing around for another place to anchor her kitten's leash. She pulled the outer door to the cell shut and looped the red leash over the door handle.

Pushing up their long sleeves, the girls stood together and pushed up on the bar with all their might. It wouldn't budge. They tried again with no result.

“This door hasn't been opened in a long, long time,” Mandie said. “If we could just shake it loose a little, we might be able to lift it off.” She gritted her teeth as they pushed upward on the bar again with all their strength.

Suddenly moving away from the crossbar, Mandie whispered, “I hear someone coming. Quick! Stoop down over here.” She and Celia squatted in a dark corner while Snowball remained tied to the door.

The voices came closer, from the direction in which the girls had been headed. Footsteps echoed through the tunnel, now approaching the outside door.

“He's in here,” said a man with an unusual accent.

The girls held their breath, listening as the door to Jonathan's cell was unlocked and thrown open.

“What's wrong with him?” came another man's voice with a British accent.

“He's just sleeping off the knock on the head we had to give him,” the deeper voice replied. “He refused to cooperate and got noisy—”

Mandie was so angry she could hardly keep quiet.

“Wake up, Jonathan Guyer, wake up,” the man called.

The girls heard some stirring in the next room, and finally a thick moan. “Let me out of here.” It was Jonathan's voice all right.

“We'll let you out just as soon as your father receives our message and gives us what we want,” the British voice answered.

“Exactly what is it you want?” Jonathan asked groggily.

“Shall we tell him?” the first voice asked.

“Might as well. He's not going anywhere,” the British-man replied.

The deep voice began explaining. “Our job is to gather information for our country,” he said. “And we know that your father owns
a gun factory here in France. We want all the guns in that factory for our men.”

“If your country wants guns, why don't you buy them instead of kidnapping me?” Jonathan asked.

“Because we are going to overthrow our king, that's why,” the deep voice replied angrily. “And we do not have money to buy guns. Therefore, your father is going to give them to us.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that. My father never gives away anything,” Jonathan told them. “How did you know who I am, anyway?”

“Because of the articles in the newspapers,” he replied. “We discovered you were not kidnapped after all, but had just run away from home. That gave us the idea that we could actually kidnap you and get what we want. Smart, heh?” He sounded confident.

“No. Not smart, but awfully dumb,” Jonathan answered. “But you are not French. Where is your country? Who are you?”

The British voice spoke up. “That we do not tell.”

“It is a long way from here, anyway,” the first voice added.

“Have you been in touch with my father?” Jonathan asked.

“No, but we leave here, send a message to New York,” the deep voice said.

“You will be freed as soon as we are able to contact your father and he agrees to our terms,” the British voice assured him.

“We must go now. We have three of your friends waiting,” the first man said.

Mandie gasped. Had they captured her grandmother and the senator? But the man said three. Who would the third one be?

“Three of my friends?” Jonathan questioned. ‘What do you mean by that?”

“Three lovely dark-haired young ladies,” the man with the British accent said.

Mandie grasped Celia's hand. Were those three strange girls who had been following them around really friends of Jonathan's? Mandie wondered.

“You are mistaken,” came Jonathan's reply. “Those girls are not my friends. I don't even know them, really.”

“But you will remember they made friends with you, beginning at the hotel in London,” the British voice said. “That was part of our
plan. They were tutored to find out for certain who you were and to get other information from you by being friendly.”

“Do you mean that's why they've been showing up everywhere I go?” Jonathan asked.

“We are training them to be spies for our country, like we are,” the deep voice replied.

“You two men are from the same country?” Jonathan asked.

“Yes, we are now,” the British accent said. “At one time I was a British citizen, but I rejected that for a better country.”

“You certainly didn't
reject
your British accent, mister,” Jonathan said, sarcastically. “You're still British, whether you like it or not.”

“I won't take issue with your remark now, but I won't forget it,” the British voice said angrily.

“We must go now,” the deeper voice said. “Remember, we must make another stop at the other end of the tunnel before we join the ladies.”

“Yes, they can wait for us,” the British voice added.

Mandie quickly figured out their plan. They had come from the other end of the tunnel and would continue on their way in the direction from which she and Celia had come. That would take a while.

Evidently, the three dark-haired girls were waiting at the end of the tunnel from which the men had come. If she and Celia hurried, they could reach the girls before the men returned. She'd like to question those young ladies.

Mandie and Celia heard the men slam the metal door and lock it, then hurriedly walk off.

“Whew! They're gone!” Celia whispered, expelling her breath.

“We still can't get Jonathan out,” Mandie said softly. “Let's slip out the other way and find those girls. We can come back here. Like that man said, Jonathan is not going anywhere.”

Without alerting Jonathan to their presence, Mandie grabbed Snowball and the girls silently left the empty cell. Lifting their skirts, they hurried down the passageway. Soon they could see daylight and realized they were finally coming to the end of the tunnel.

Mandie stopped and put her hand on Celia's arm. “Slow down. We don't want anyone to see us until we look things over,” she said.

“Right.” Celia stopped to catch her breath.

Slowly emerging into the daylight, the girls looked around. They seemed to be in a forest. There was no sign of anyone around except for one carriage—hitched to Clydesdale horses!

The girls cautiously slipped outside and stayed close to the building they had left, keeping shrubs between them and the carriage. As they circled the vehicle from a distance, they spotted the three dark-haired sisters sitting on a low wall out of view of the carriage.

“Let's go!” Mandie brazenly walked out of the shrubs into plain view of the three girls.

The three girls immediately stood up as Mandie and Celia approached.

Mandie stopped in front of the girls and braced herself. “I want to know just who you are and what you are doing to our friend Jonathan,” she demanded sternly. “We know he's locked up inside that dungeon room in the tunnel, so you might as well explain what's going on. We're tired of y'all following us, and now you're really making trouble.”

Celia took Snowball from Mandie and nervously stood beside her.

The girls gazed at Mandie with a surprised look.

The youngest girl finally spoke. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “Jonathan—locked up in a dungeon room? We didn't do it if he is.”

“Oh, but the men who came here with you did, and they said you were the ones who spied on Jonathan,” Mandie argued.

The oldest girl spoke. “Our name is Covington. I'm Mary. Maude here is next and Martha there is the youngest. Who are you?”

Mandie eyed them warily. “My name is Amanda Shaw—Mandie for short—and my friend's name is Celia Hamilton,” she said. “But we want to know what's going on. Who are the men you came here with?”

“The man we came here with is our father. The other man is his friend. We don't know his name.”

“Your father” Mandie was incredulous.

Martha, the youngest, quickly corrected her sister. “Well, not really. You see, we're orphans, and a while back, that man and his wife adopted us.”

“Where is the woman who is always with you?” Mandie asked.

“Oh, our adoptive mother,” Mary replied. “She's waiting in the carriage there.”

Mandie's heart did a flip-flop. She hadn't reckoned on running into that rude woman again. And the man had said nothing about the woman waiting for him. She and Celia certainly wanted to avoid a confrontation with her. They didn't need more trouble.

The sisters whispered among themselves, and then Martha spoke. “We did not agree to have Jonathan locked up in a room,” she said. “Would you show us where he is? Maybe we can get him out.”

Mandie and Celia exchanged glances. It would be risky going back inside the tunnel with the two men expected to come out any minute. But maybe these girls were serious. With their help, maybe they would be able to get the crossbar off that connecting door.

“We'll have to take a chance,” Mandie whispered to Celia.

Celia showed the fear she felt.

“If they start anything in the tunnel, we can take care of them,” Mandie assured her quietly. “They're sissy city girls, and we're
country
girls. We know how to handle their kind.”