Reluctantly leaving her, he again went downstairs, let himself out of a side door, and walked down the steep, curving road to the big boathouse on the shore. To get in, he had to force the lock but that suited his plan. In the long shed there were seven boats of various sizes. Clambering into one of the smaller rowing boats, he tethered the smallest of all to her stern, then unlatched the water gate and rowed out into the river.
To cross it entailed a quarter of an hour of hard pulling and the strong, swift current swept him nearly a mile downstream before he reached the far bank. Having beached the boat he was in, and untied the rope by which he had towed over the smaller one, he drew it right up on to the shore. With him he had brought a small book belonging to Charles, which Georgina had got for him. It was in English, and a history of King Charles' escape after Worcester, so was a perfect clue to the identity of its owner. He left the book in the prow of the boat, as though it had fallen unnoticed from Charles' pocket as he jumped ashore.
Although he re crossed the river as directly as the current would permit, and made the greater part of his way back close in to the shore, it took him over an hour of strenuous effort before he reached the boathouse. Tethering the boat where he had found it, he wearily ascended the winding mountain road, eventually to reach his room stumbling with fatigue.
On Sunday mornings, it was customary for everyone at the Schloss to attend chapel. The inmates were about to take their places, when Charles' tutor arrived hotfoot, to report that the boy had not slept in his bed, and he could not be found. The service was abandoned, everyone exclaiming in dismay; Georgina went to her boudoir, then produced the letter Charles had left, saying that she had just found it lying on her work basket.
The Baron was furious, and declared that the boy must be caught and brought back at all costs. A party that had been arranged for later in the day, to taste the must of the new vintage, was promptly cancelled. Georgina, in tears that needed no forcing, went to her bedroom, but soon after emerged to say that several of her rings were missing, and some sixty thalers that she kept in a drawer against emergencies. Lisala, ignorant of the secret manoeuvres that had taken place, endeavoured to console her for the loss of her son. Roger expressed his deepest sympathy for his host, and offered his aid in the search for the missing Charles.
To Roger's amazement, von Haugwitz burst into tears and exclaimed, 'I loved the boy. I loved him.' Ostensibly, that could be taken as a strong expression of the affection a man had developed for his stepson. But to Roger it was evidence of the strength of his host's illicit passion. Swiftly recovering, the Baron summoned the bodyguard which tradition allowed him to retain, and who were now employed in the Castle as servants, gamekeepers and vine-dressers. As Georgina had foreseen, a number of them were set to search the Castle, in case Charles' courage had failed him at the last moment, and he had hidden himself somewhere in it. Others were despatched to east and west along the shore of the river, and others again to scour the wooded hinterland.
Shortly before midday, it was discovered that a small rowing boat was missing from the boathouse. By two o'clock it was found, and Charles' book brought to the Baron. He gave way to a passion of rage and tears, for the land on the west bank of die Rhine had, for many years past, been a part of France, and he could not send his men across, because he had no authority there. Now despairing, he called the search off and, in a state of misery, shut himself up in his room.
In the small hours of the morning, having taken fresh food to her boy, Georgina was able to tell Roger that Charles was bearing up well. But she was unutterably distressed at having finally parted from him. All had, so far, gone well with their plans, and it was their last night together, but a far from happy one. Roger held his love tightly in his arms, while she sobbed on his shoulder. When, at length, she was about to leave him, she said bitterly:
'We have both made fools of ourselves by our recent marriages. But I am the more to blame. They would never have come about had I only listened to your pleading last time we were together in England. Oh, how happy we could be as husband and wife at Stillwaters. But perhaps some day...' Then, like a wraith, she vanished, and the door closed silently behind her.
Next morning, after many expressions of gratitude and renewed protestations of distress at Charles' having run away, Roger and Lisala took their departure. Instead of mounting his charger, Roger had his man lead it, and entered the coach with Lisala.
As soon as the cumbersome vehicle began, with its brakes on, to slither down the steep descent, Lisala remarked lightly:
'Well, I trust your old love came up to your expectations in bed.'
Roger turned to stare at her, as she went on. 'Maybe you have forgotten that, when we were so passionately enamoured of each other in Isfahan, you told me of your boy and girl affaire in Hampshire before you went to France; and that, although you have since seen the lady only at long intervals you had become life-long friends. The moment I saw your great Georgina at Erfurt, I realised that it was she who, on and off, for years has been your mistress.'
'Believe that if you wish,' Roger shrugged ' Tis all one to me.'
'Oh, I make no complaint.' Lisala smiled sweetly. 'I found the Baron excellent company. He came to my room the second night and played a man's part vigorously; and again on Friday. Saturday he was so upset that he failed me. But I now understand the reason for that. Last night he came to me again and persuaded me to play the part of a boy. It was a new experience for me, and one I did not greatly care for. But with practice it might have possibilities.'
'For Christ's sake, be silent 1' Roger stormed. 'You utterly disgust me! But you are right about the Baron being a pederast and that is the true reason for young Charles' disappearance. Georgina and I stage-managed it, and shortly we shall pick him up.'
Lisala's great eyes opened wide. 'So Georgina's weeping was all a sham?'
'Certainly not. If you had any maternal feelings, you would realise her acute distress at having had to send him away.'
By that time the coach had reached the road that wound along the river bank. When it came level with the hut where the fishing tackle was kept, Roger called to his coachman to pull up. Getting out, he glanced back up at the Castle. Trees hid it, except for its topmost tower. Reassured that no-one there was likely to be overlooking them, he ran towards the but. At that moment, Charles emerged. He was pale and looked very woe-begone, but Roger took him by the arm, laughed and said:
'Well done, my son. The endurance you have displayed does you great credit. Your mama and I are very proud of you. And be of good heart. Within a few weeks, you will be back at Stillwaters.'
Pushing the boy into the coach, he said to Lisala, 'Here is someone new to exercise your charm upon, but I pray you refrain from questioning him.' Then he mounted his horse and the coach moved on.
Eight days later they reached Vienna, and put up at the Double Eagle. Next morning, Roger went to the Hofberg and enquired for the Archduke John.
To his relief, the Archduke was in residence and, a quarter of an hour later, received him in his apartment. With due respect, Roger presented a letter Georgina had given him.
While the Archduke was reading it, Roger studied him with an appraising eye. He was of medium height, stalwart and handsome, apart from the thick Habsburg lip. He had spoken crisply and had the bearing people always hoped to see in a man of his high rank. Roger decided that, this time, Georgina had had ample reason to succumb to a lover's personality.