Jack asked Pedro many questions. How far was Borken? Who owned the castle? Was it very old? Could anyone see over it?
Pedro laughed. ‘Borken Castle-and the whole of Borken-and all the land we are passing through-is owned by the Count Paritolen. He lives at the castle, and as for letting anyone see over it-my word, they’d be clapped into a dungeon before they even got through the door!’
‘He sounds rather fierce,’ said Jack, gloomily. If the others had been taken to the Count’s castle they wouldn’t have a very nice time, with such a fierce captor!
‘He’s a very strong and determined fellow,’ said Pedro. ‘He hates the King, who is too strong for him. He’d like to make the young Prince Aloysius king-then he could rule the country himself, through the Prince, who would have to do as he was told.’
‘I see,’ said Jack, his heart sinking. ‘What could he hope to do against a man like Count Paritolen?
‘Is this Count the Prime Minister?’ asked Jack, suddenly remembering what Gussy had said.
‘No. His brother-in-law, Count Hartius, is Prime Minister,’ said Pedro. ‘They’re both alike in hating the King-but Count Hartius is weak, where his brother-in-law is strong. It is his wife who rules him-a very clever woman, so they say-Madame Tatiosa.’
Jack listened to all this intently. He was beginning to have a clearer idea about things. How strange to be suddenly plunged into the middle of all this-to know the little Prince himself-to be so near the Castle of Borken, and to be on the land of Count Paritolen, who wanted to depose the King! It sounded like a tale in a book, a tale that had suddenly become real.
‘How do you know all this, Pedro?’ he asked.
‘Oh, everyone in Tauri-Hessia knows it,’ said Pedro. ‘It may mean civil war, you see, and all the people fear that. If the King is deposed, and this young Prince is put in his place, the people will take sides and will be at one another’s throats in no time-and circus people like us will have to get out of the country as quick as we can! So we keep our ears to the ground to find out what is going on.’
Jack was certain that he himself knew the latest news of all! He was sure that as yet no one in Tauri-Hessia knew that Prince Aloysius had been kidnapped from England, and was even now a prisoner in Borken Castle. But what was going to happen next? Would the plot take one step further, and news come out that the King had been killed-or put into prison?
Jack fell into deep thought-so deep that he didn’t even hear Ma calling to him to come and eat. The boy suddenly felt that he had become a very important person in this plot-someone fortunately unknown to the plotters-but who might spoil the plot altogether if only he could manage to get into the castle.
‘Penny for your thoughts!’ said Pedro and gave him a punch. ‘Wake up! You look very solemn. Anything on your mind?’
Jack shook himself, and smiled. Kiki had flown off his shoulder to Ma, who was fishing up some peculiar titbits for her from a big black pot.
‘Polly put the kettle on,’ said Kiki. She cocked her head on one side and looked at Ma. ‘Bonnytageloota!’
Ma slapped her knees and laughed. She loved Kiki. She pointed to Kiki. ‘She spik Hessian!’ she called.
Jack was astonished. Now how in the world did Kiki manage to pick up the Hessian language? Really, she was a marvellous mimic. ‘What does “Bonnytageloota” mean?’ he asked.
‘Top of the morning to you!’ said Pedro, with a grin.
The circus stopped at a big village, and set up camp for two days. Jack was busy then. He had to give Pedro a hand in all kinds of ways-putting up tents, pulling vans into place, setting up the benches in rows, running here and there for the ‘Boss’, whose name Jack never could manage to pronounce.
The circus-folk approved of Jack. He was willing and quick, and he had good manners, which made him very popular with the women, who had got used to rough ways from the menfolk. Jack liked most of the circus people-they were kindly and generous, quick-tempered and cheerful-but they were dirty and slovenly, too, not always very honest and sometimes lazy. They were good to Jack, and made him one of themselves at once.
They were a curious lot. There was Fank, with his three bears, one of the great draws of the show. The bears were all large, dark brown, and were natural clowns. They boxed, they knocked each other over, they lumbered round in a laughable dance, and they adored Fank, their trainer.
‘Don’t you go too near them, though,’ Pedro warned him. ‘They’re treacherous. No one but Fank can manage them. Bad-tempered, bears are-have to be careful of them.’
The two chimpanzees were amusing fellows. They walked about hand-in-hand with their owner, a tiny woman called Madame Fifi. She wasn’t much taller than they were! They really loved her.
Jack liked them very much, but soon found that they were dreadful pickpockets! They slipped their furry hands into his pockets without his knowing, and took his handkerchief, a notebook, and two pencils.
Madame Fifi gave them back to him, with a laugh. She poured out something in French-or was it Spanish or Italian? She spoke so quickly that Jack couldn’t even make out what language she was speaking. She saw that Jack didn’t understand, and produced a few words of English.
‘Bad boys!’ said Madame Fifi, pointing a tiny finger at the chimpanzees, Feefo and Fum. ‘Smack, smack, smack!’
There were Toni and Bingo the acrobats. Toni was a marvellous rope-walker, and raised a perfect storm of cheers and shouts when he performed on a wire rope high up in the big circus tent. He could do anything on it-run, jump, dance-even turn head-over-heels. Jack was always afraid he would fall.
‘Why doesn’t he have a safety-net?’ he asked Pedro. ‘You know, he’d kill himself if he fell from that height!’
‘Ask him!’ said Pedro with a laugh. So Jack put the question to Toni, when the acrobat came across to talk to Pedro’s mother. Toni was Spanish, but he understood English well, though he did not speak it fluently.
‘Pah! Safftee-net!’ he said, in scorn. ‘Onnly in Eengland iss a safftee-net put for me. I do not fall! I am Toni, the grrrrreat TONI!’ There was Tops, too, a clown whose great speciality was stilt-walking. It was absolutely amazing to see him stalk into the ring, as tall as a giant. He had big boots fitted on to the bottom of his stilts, and to most of the children in the audience he seemed a true giant, especially as he had a tremendous voice.
He had had a peculiar bicycle built for himself, very tall-and he could ride this when still on stilts. That brought the house down! Another thing that made everyone laugh till they cried was when someone in the ring wanted to talk to Tops. They brought in a long ladder and put it right up to his waist-then up the ladder somebody ran to talk to the clown at the top of it.
Tops was a funny little man in himself, always joking. His big voice didn’t fit his small body. ‘That’s why he learnt stilt-walking,’ Pedro told Jack. ‘To be tall enough for his voice! That’s what he always says, anyway.’
There was Hola, the sword-swallower. Jack watched him, shuddering. Hola could put a sword right down his throat up to the hilt! He would put back his head, and down would go the sword.
‘I can understand his being able to swallow short daggers or knives,’ said Jack. ‘Well-not swallow them, exactly, but stick them right down his throat-but Pedro, HOW can he swallow that long, long sword of his? It’s awful to see him. It makes me feel quite sick.’
Pedro laughed. ‘I’ll take you to Hola’s van when he is in a good temper,’ he said. ‘He will show you how he does that.’
And one evening Jack had gone across to Hola’s bright yellow van, and had been introduced to Hola himself, a tall, thin fellow with sad eyes. Pedro spoke to him in German, and Hola nodded and produced a small smile. He beckoned Jack into his van. In a big stand were all sizes of knives, daggers and swords. Jack pointed to a very long sword indeed.
Hola took it up. He put back his head, and down went the sword, down, down, down his throat right up to the hilt. It wasn’t possible! How could a man do that?
Up came the sword again, and Hola took it out of his mouth and smiled, still with his sad expression. He handed the sword to Jack.