The Princess and the Captain by Anne-Laure Bondoux Read Free Book Online

the night before, in which Philomena had wrapped her locks of hair. She never wanted to wear that dress again. Never! With a sudden defiant gesture she threw it into the sea.
    â€˜Good riddance!’ she called, laughing.
    The dress hovered above the waves for a moment as her locks of hair fell and scattered in the ship’s wake, and then settled on the water like an elegant bird. Malva watched it drift away. She smiled. It was over now. Everything that made her a submissive Princess would be drowned in the waves. All she had to do now was live her own life! An extraordinary sense of intoxication made her head spin, and she lost her balance.
    Vincenzo hurried to catch her and took her gently by the arm. ‘Come along, Princess, not so impatient! You’ll be leaving the
Estafador
soon enough.’

6
Carabins and Musketoons
    The Lower Town was in turmoil. In every alleyway, every workshop, every house the talk was of nothing but the Princess’s disappearance. Early that morning the rumour had made its way down the terraced gardens, crossed the Citadel’s surrounding wall, and spread through the whole city like a lava flow. Now nothing could contain the clamour rising everywhere.
    â€˜What a terrible thing!’ wailed the young women.
    â€˜Our Princess must be found!’ cried the men.
    â€˜It’s a conspiracy,’ suggested the more suspicious among the Galnicians.
    â€˜Or some kind of practical joke?’ wondered the doubters.
    While servants searched the Citadel, the Coronador had sent his guards to look for his daughter. Armed troops patrolled the streets and bridges, combing the city right down to the harbour.
    Only Orpheus ignored the general hubbub. Nothing, not even an earthquake, could have taken his mind off his personal cataclysm just then.
    He had been prostrate in his armchair since the previous night, unable to move, with his father’s shipboard logbook on his knees. He hadn’t opened it yet. He didn’t have the strength.
    His father’s astounding revelations had submerged him in a whirlpool of contradictory emotions. He felt humiliated and angry, but at the same time relieved and confused. All these feelings assailed him in no particular order, making him wonder if he might be losing his mind. How else could you react when you realised that your whole life had been built on an enormous lie?
    Lying in front of the hearth, Zeph didn’t move either. There were some scraps of bread on his rug. During the night, seeing that his master wasn’t taking any notice of him, he had gone to the kitchen to look for something to eat. Now, replete and drooling slightly, he was sleeping the sleep of the just.
    Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
    Dazed, Orpheus raised his head. He wasn’t very sure where he was or what the time might be. However, as the knocking came again and louder, and imperious voices ordered him to open his door, he got to his feet. The leather-bound book fell to the ground with a thud.
    He found soldiers standing outside his house, brandishing carabins and musketoons with flared mouths.
    â€˜Let us in!’ said their leader. ‘By order of the Coronador!’
    Without waiting for a reply, the soldiers entered the house, their hobnailed boots hammering on the floor. Under the incredulous eyes of Orpheus they lifted the lids of chests, turned over the cushions in armchairs, opened all the doors and searched cupboards. They even checked that nothing was hidden under the carpet. Rudely woken from his slumbers, the old St Bernard showed his teeth, but as his hindquartersprevented him from charging at his attackers he merely changed position. Finally the men stuck their carabins up the chimney, and when nothing but soot came down they went upstairs.
    On the first floor, their leader narrowed his eyes, looking suspicious. ‘That bed’s neatly made up,’ he said. He turned to Orpheus, who was following the men from room to