A Possible Means of Escape

"I'm not sure that really happened," Freda said.

"Didn't it? My memories are so confused."

Dewey had been rather alarmed by the abrupt change in Astra. One moment she had been a compliant bawdy girl, the next she was a spitfire. Now, to his relief, he saw her relax back into her seductive persona. "So how long can he have the girls kept under arrest?" she asked.

"Indefinitely. Of course, he can't actually bring them to trial without having a proper charge; 'humiliation' isn't an offence in law. But he's the local noble, and the chief constable isn't going to release the girls against his say-so. Not if he wants to keep his job. I imagine that sooner or later Madame Candida will have to write Rudolf a grovelling apology, and then they'll be freed and life will go on as before."

"Thank you," Freda said, running her hand through his hair. "You've been awfully helpful. I wonder if you could do something else for us, though?"

"Of course."

"Astra and I are under a spell preventing us from leaving these premises of our own volition. But you might be able to drag us out. If necessary, we'd even drink a sleeping draught, if it turns out that we have to be unconscious for you to get us out."

"But we don't want to go to jail," Astra said. "Perhaps you could come back here after dark, so that nobody will see us when - if - we get out?"

"Madame Candida had you put under a spell to ensure that you'd have to work for her for evermore?" Dewey said, jumping to the natural - but wrong - conclusion. "That's terrible!

1. "Of course I'll help you."
2. "But I'm afraid it would be too dangerous for me to do what you ask." Freda and Astra exhanged glances. Coming to the same conclusion, each girl untied the diaphanous band of lace that served her as a top and let it fall to the ground.

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