interrupted the man then, and they exchanged some words—a bit of worry on both their parts, although the Indian nodded confidently at her, as if he fully expected what her answer was going to be. “Would you come sit down with us, so we can give you a fuller explanation?”
“My horse is in your stabling tent. Would you have her and my belongings taken somewhere less public?” she asked. For answer, the man signaled a passing cowboy with a sharp whistle, she handed over the tag representing Lebkuchen, and the cowboy trotted off. She had the opportunity to look him over carefully while this exchange was taking place, and . . . well, aside from his fancy scarlet uniform, he looked quite ordinary. He had a very square face, short, pale hair, and nice, mild blue eyes behind wire-rimmed spectacles. Truth be told, he looked like a clerk or a merchant.
With Lebkuchen taken care of, the trio conducted her to a spacious tent in what appeared to be the Army Camp. This, evidently, belonged to Captain Cody, and looked as if it consisted of two canvas-walled rooms. Access to the back one was closed off, but the front was equipped with a table and comfortable chairs, lanterns, a small desk, chests, some comforts such as a rug on the canvas floor and a pile of cushions in a corner, and a barrel of beer. The Captain made himself the host and pulled glasses for all of them.
Meanwhile, the sylphs were flying mad aerobatics above her head, urging her to take the offer. She wanted to, naturally, and fully intended to—but it seemed to her she should not be too eager. Best I find out everything I can before I agree.
She accepted the metal stein of beer with a nod of thanks—beer was food of a sort, after all—and waited for them to explain just what had led to this extraordinary offer.
“So, let me first introduce myself,” said the announcer. “I am Heinrich Kellermann.”
She smiled. He was so formal! And she remembered then that they did not know who she was. “Greetings, Herr Kellermann, Herr Cody.” She made a little bow. “My name is Giselle Schnittel.”
Kellermann gave her a little bow from the waist. But Cody flamboyantly captured her hand, and with a roguish look, kissed it. She snatched it back, but couldn’t help but smile at him. He winked.
Kellermann cleared his throat, and she politely turned her attention back to him. “I was working as the assistant manager and under-concierge of the Hotel Splendido, in Bagni di Rabbi, a spa town in Italy near the Austrian border, when this show came into our town. As it happened, the show was managed by a complete scoundrel, who, the day before the show was to leave and cross the border into Austria, ran off with every bit of money he could get his hands on. Cody and some of the other stars of the show were staying at my hotel, and since I speak English and Italian as well as our native tongue, and because I had come, in that brief time of acquaintance, to consider him a friend, I took on the task of explaining the situation to the authorities and everyone else.”
Cody said something at length to Heinrich, once again gesturing broadly. Heinrich nodded, then turned back to her when Cody paused for a pull at his beer.
“I have to say that my confidence in my American friends was not misplaced. The show remained to pay their debts. Despite sometimes lackluster ticket sales, the Captain and his company did not leave until all debts were paid.” He seemed as proud of that as if he himself had accomplished it.
“That’s more than honorable!” she exclaimed, as the sylphs continued to dance about over her head. The owl on the Indian’s shoulder watched them with bemusement, but of course, no one else could see them.
“Indeed. But once that happened, the company split up, to an extent. Word of their misfortune had spread, and several recruiters arrived with offers. About half the troupe left for other shows or smaller exhibitions, taking only their personal baggage. This left the rest with no money to return home and no good prospects except to somehow continue on. And with that, the Captain offered me the opportunity to manage what was left of the show.” He shrugged. “Foolish of me, perhaps, to give up my position, which was secure.”
“If your position was secure—” she raised an eyebrow.
“It