Petronella Saves Nearly Everyone by Dene Low Page B

officer."
    Light dawned. "Of course—the canal and all. So why do they need a diversion?"
    "Britain is siding with the Americans, of course, because we need the canal. One of the communiqués I saw from the Colombian ambassador threatened retribution if we don't change our policy."
    "But what could a poor nation such as Colombia do to Britain?" asked Jane.
    "I'm not sure, but if we are concentrating our national attentions on finding Dame Carruthers and Generalissimo Reyes-Cardoza, they may be able to put something in place while we aren't looking."
    "It makes sense," I said. "If they wanted to do serious damage, they would have asked for more than twenty thousand pounds. Such a sum would hardly impoverish Britain."
    "The question is, how can we stop them?" said James.
    "No one will believe us unless we have more evidence," said Jane.
    James stroked his manly chin thoughtfully. "If only we knew more about the man who gave Ralph the message. Then I would have something concrete to report to my superiors."
    A half-formed plan popped into my head. I consulted my watch and then caught Moriarty's eye and nodded. When he came over, I said quietly, "Please have Bumbridge bring the carriage around. We'll be going to the train station."
    Now it was James's turn to look puzzled. "What?"
    "Shh," I warned. "We will leave this room one at a time and go in different directions so we do not attract the attention of the relatives, and then meet outside the front door.
The same train that took the Colombian to London has had time to get there and come back and be ready to go to London again. Jane and I used to escape from our governesses for a few hours by riding back and forth on that train, so we know the schedule. We can search the cars for more clues as we ride."

Chapter Twelve
In Which an Eye Is Blackened

    AS I SLIPPED OUT THE servants' entrance and around to the front where Bumbridge—almost as fine an example of efficiency as Moriarty—waited with the carriage, I mused that nothing I'd ever experienced in my short life was as exhilarating as escape. Miss Spackering had been a praiseworthy and astute governess, but she was no match for my Arbuthnot-and Percival-bred skills at evasion—skills I had employed in my childhood with regularity and success. I often thought fondly of an ancestor I strove to emulate who had not only managed to escape from Cromwell's forces, but had also ingeniously freed himself from the Tower of London when the Royalists returned to power and imprisoned him because of a misunderstanding. They later apologized when he rode into London with his personal army.
    With my good humor restored, I accepted my hat, my Italian gloves, and my favorite French crewel-embroidered handbag from the ever-thoughtful Moriarty, who handed me up into the carriage. There I found Uncle snacking on delicacies previously hidden in
Insectile Creatures.
At least he was doing so in privacy. I pretended not to notice as I placed the tiara and
peso
into my handbag. We were joined by Jane and then, soon after, by James.
    James puffed a bit as he entered the carriage. He mopped at his brow with another of his snowy handkerchiefs. "I say, your pith-helmeted aunt gave a good account of herself while chasing me through the kitchen. I barely managed to give her the slip by detouring through the dairy."
    Just as the carriage horses accelerated into a trot, I heard a faint "Petronella!" Through the carriage window I viewed Aunt Cordelia vigorously brandishing an umbrella on the front steps. Bumbridge, efficient as ever, cracked his whip and the horses broke into a canter. I settled back against the squabs, satisfied that we would not be followed for quite some time. According to my watch and what I knew of the train schedule, we should be pulling out before any of the horde could reach the station.
    "Do you really think there will be any clues on the train?" asked Jane.
    "It's entirely possible, old stick," said James. "After