The Bad Beginning - Snicket Lemony - Страница 10
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``I guess so,'' Violet said.
``Of course you are,'' Judge Strauss said, stars in her eyes and Sunny in her hands. She left the library and Klaus and Violet looked at each other and sighed.
``She's stagestruck,'' Klaus said. ``She won't believe that Count Olaf is up to something, no matter what.''
``She wouldn't help us anyway,'' Violet pointed out glumly. ``She's a judge, and she'd just start babbling about in loco parentis like Mr. Poe.''
``That's why we've got to find a legal reason to stop the performance,'' Klaus said firmly. ``Have you found anything in your book yet?''
``Nothing helpful,'' Violet said, glancing down at a piece of scrap paper on which she had been taking notes. ``Fifty years ago there was a woman who left an enormous sum of money to her pet weasel, and none to her three sons. The three sons tried to prove that the woman was insane so the money would go to them.''
``What happened?'' Klaus asked.
``I think the weasel died,'' Violet replied, ``but I'm not sure. I have to look up some of the words.''
``I don't think it's going to help us anyway,'' Klaus said.
``Maybe Count Olaf is trying to prove that we're insane, so he'd get the money,'' Violet said.
``But why would making us be in The Marvelous Marriage prove we were insane?'' Klaus asked.
``I don't know,'' Violet admitted. ``I'm stuck. Have you found anything?''
``Around the time of your weasel lady,'' Klaus said, flipping through the enormous book he had been reading, ``a group of actors put on a production of Shakespeare's Macbeth, and none of them wore any clothing.''
Violet blushed. ``You mean they were all naked, onstage?''
``Only briefly,'' Klaus said, smiling. ``The police came and shut down the production. I don't think that's very helpful, either. It was just pretty interesting to read about.''
Violet sighed. ``Maybe Count Olaf isn't up to anything,'' she said. ``I'm not interested in performing in his play, but perhaps we're all worked up about nothing. Maybe Count Olaf really is just trying to welcome us into the family.''
``How can you say that?'' Klaus cried. ``He struck me across the face.''
``But there's no way he can get hold of our fortune just by putting us in a play,'' Violet said. ``My eyes are tired from reading these books, Klaus, and they aren't helping us. I'm going to go out and help Justice Strauss in the garden.''
Klaus watched his sister leave the library and felt a wave of hopelessness wash over him. The day of the performance was not far off, and he hadn't even figured out what Count Olaf was up to, let alone how to stop him. All his life, Klaus had believed that if you read enough books you could solve any problem, but now he wasn't so sure.
``You there!'' A voice coming from the doorway startled Klaus out of his thoughts. ``Count Olaf sent me to look for you. You are to return to the house immediately.''
Klaus turned and saw one of the members of Count Olaf's theater troupe, the one with hooks for hands, standing in the doorway. ``What are you doing in this musty old room, anyway?'' he asked in his croak of a voice, walking over to where Klaus was sitting. Narrowing his beady eyes, he read the title of one of the books. ``Inheritance Law and Its Implications?'' he said sharply. ``Why are you reading that?''
``Why do you think I'm reading it?'' Klaus said.
``I'll tell you what I think.'' The man put one of his terrible hooks on Klaus's shoulder. ``I think you should never be allowed inside this library again, at least until Friday. We don't want a little boy getting big ideas. Now, where is your sister and that hideous baby?''
``In the garden,'' Klaus said, shrugging the hook off of his shoulder. ``Why don't you go and get them?''
The man leaned over until his face was just inches from Klaus's, so close that the man's features flickered into a blur. ``Listen to me very carefully, little boy,'' he said, breathing out foul steam with every word. ``The only reason Count Olaf hasn't torn you limb from limb is that he hasn't gotten hold of your money. He allows you to live while he works out his plans. But ask yourself this, you little bookworm: What reason will he have to keep you alive after he has your money? What do you think will happen to you then?''
Klaus felt an icy chill go through him as the horrible man spoke. He had never been so terrified in all his life. He found that his arms and legs were shaking uncontrollably, as if he were having some sort of fit. His mouth was making strange sounds, like Sunny always did, as he struggled to find something to say. ``Ah-'' Klaus heard himself choke out. ``Ah-''
``When the time comes,'' the hook-handed man said smoothly, ignoring Klaus's noises, ``I believe Count Olaf just might leave you to me. So if I were you, I'd start acting a little nicer.''
The man stood up again and put both his hooks in front of Klaus's face, letting the light from the reading lamps reflect off the wicked-looking devices.
``Now, if you will excuse me, I have to fetch your poor orphan siblings.''
Klaus felt his body go limp as the hook-handed man left the room, and he wanted to sit there for a moment and catch his breath. But his mind wouldn't let him. This was his last moment in the library, and perhaps his last opportunity to foil Count Olaf's plan. But what to do? Hearing the faint sounds of the hook-handed man talking to Justice Strauss in the garden, Klaus looked frantically around the library for something that could be helpful.
Then, just as he heard the man's footsteps heading back his way, Klaus spied one book, and quickly grabbed it. He untucked his shirt and put the book inside, hastily retucking it just as the hook-handed man reentered the library, escorting Violet and carrying Sunny, who was trying without success to bite the man's hooks.
``I'm ready to go,'' Klaus said quickly, and walked out the door before the man could get a good look at him. He walked quickly ahead of his siblings, hoping that nobody would notice the book-shaped lump in his shirt. Maybe, just maybe, the book Klaus was smuggling could save their lives.
Chapter Eight
Klaus stayed up all night reading, which was normally something he loved to do. Back when his parents were alive, Klaus used to take a flashlight to bed with him and hide under the covers, reading until he couldn't keep his eyes open. Some mornings, his father would come into Klaus's room to wake him up and find him asleep, still clutching his flashlight in one hand and his book in the other. But on this particular night, of course, the circumstances were much different.
Klaus stood by the window, squinting as he read his smuggled book by the moonlight that trickled into the room. He occasionally glanced at his sisters. Violet was sleeping fitfully-a word which here means ``with much tossing and turning''-on the lumpy bed, and Sunny had wormed her way into the pile of curtains so that she just looked like a small heap of cloth. Klaus had not told his siblings about the book, because he didn't want to give them false hope. He wasn't sure the book would help them out of their dilemma.
The book was long, and difficult to read, and Klaus became more and more tired as the night wore on. Occasionally his eyes would close. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. But then he would remember the way the hook-hands of Count Olaf's associate had glinted in the library, and would imagine them tearing into his flesh, and he would wake right up and continue reading. He found a small scrap of paper and tore it into strips, which he used to mark significant parts of the book.
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