Chapter Three
Immediately after entering Montague Manor, the Baudelaires could only see two things. First, the silhouette of the butler who had told them to follow them to the tea room. Second, that the Manor was dark. There were only a few candles scattered around which gave off the eerie light candles usually give. If you ever have experienced a blackout you’ll probably agree that it is terrifying when night falls and there is no power. The entire city engulfed in the darkness, and the shadows caused by the candles scaring you even more than you would be if there were no candles around to begin with. I once experienced a blackout in a house where many of my enemies had broken into, searching for me, and it was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, not only because of the people hunting me down - an expression here meaning ‘coming to kill me with whatever means necessary ’- but because the power was out the entire time and I had to escape the house in the most absolute darkness.
‘This reminds me of 667 Dark Avenue. I’m not sure that a place that would remind us of that place is good to be in, Violet.’ Klaus whispered to Violet, as they walked behind the butler.
‘I think so too, but Cindry might be here, and Esmé Squalor too. We have to find them, and escape here with Cindry.’ Violet said.
‘You’re right. Plus, we’ve faced worse before.’
‘Island, Hotel Denouement, grotto, mountains, carnival…’ Sunny enumerated many of the unfortunate places the Baudelaires had been to, and where they experienced things too terrible to elaborate on, an expression which here means ‘to discuss over dinner or any other meal even if the meal consists of canned beats.’
‘Factory…’ said little Beatrice. The events at Funeral Factory Fulfillment Ltd. had been the first unfortunate events in her life, and almost too fresh in her memory.
The butler suddenly stopped before a set of double sliding doors, which the Baudelaires could only see because there were several candles beside the doors. The butler opened the doors, and the Baudelaires walked into a room, which I’m sad to say was filled with people the Baudelaires had hoped to never see again.
‘
Cakesniffers!’ a girls’ voice sounded, and again, the Baudelaires felt shivers going down their spines as they saw Carmelita Spats sitting in an armchair with a man in a checkered suit and another man and a woman sitting next to her, on a large couch. Carmelita had grown up, and her red hair was tied into two big pigtails instead of the tidy curls she once used to sport. She was also dressed in what Klaus thought at first was Cindry’s very own uniform, the same blue and yellow plaid pattern, but unlike Cindry, Carmelita did not have a beret on her head, but other than that she looked terrifyingly similar to Cindry. Also, Carmelita’s body had changed since the Baudelaires last saw her, and she looked more adult now, despite her horrible, childish personality.
‘Who do you think you are, interrupting our tea time like that, you bunch of cakesniffers?’ asked the always rude Carmelita.
‘Now, let’s not be rude to the other guests, Carmelita.’ Said the man in the checkered suit, whom the Baudelaires recognized as the girl’s uncle, Bruce, the same man that they met after the unfortunate events that befell them when they stayed with Uncle Monty, and then later in the Mortmain Mountains.
‘I can’t help it if they are cakesniffers, uncle Bruce. Dad, tell them they are nothing but cakesniffers!’ Carmelita poked the man next to her, who the Baudelaires thought looked almost too much like Carmelita except for the red hair and the pigtails.
‘Let’s not start a fight, Carmelita, dear. We must wait for our host.’
‘Yes, Mr. Montague is an excellent host, I hear.’ – said the woman next to him, whom the Baudelaires assumed was Carmelita’s mother.
‘Of course he is.’ Another woman’s voice sounded, and out of the shadows walked a tall woman wearing a long green gown, with long, white silk gloves and pointy dark glasses that could be used to hurt someone by a ill-intentioned dark glass fanatic. Her shoulders were adorned by a long, white fur coat that ended in what could only be described as a dead polar bear’s head and arms, dragging on the floor behind her, the bear’s mouth frozen forever in a frightnening expression. She looked so strange in so many ways that the Baudelaires did not have to think hard to figure out who in their right mind would wear such a strange outfit.
‘Esmé Squalor.’ Was the name the four Baudelaires thought, all at the same time, as they were reunited with the evil fashionista once more.
‘Mortimer Montague is the most in host, haven’t you heard?’ said Esmé, stopping with her dead polar bear coat as she reached the circle of armchairs disposed around the centerpiece table. ‘Nice to meet you, my name is Annabelle Rice.’
‘Oh, so you are the guest who sleeps during the day and stays awake during the night? Why is that?’ asked Carmelita’s mother.
‘Because it is very
in right now.’ Esmé, or Annabelle, answered.The tone in her voice did not make any other suggestion; Esmé was lying, and the Baudelaires knew it.
‘Oh, so it is in, huh? Wait until I tell my friends!’ Carmelita’s mother shrieked in excitement.
‘And who might those four be?’ asked Annabelle, or Esmé. The Baudelaires suddenly could breath again, now that they saw that Esmé, or Annabelle, hadn’t recognized any of them.
‘They are other guests, invited by Master Montague.’ Answered the snobbish butler with a subservient look on his face. Apparently, Esmé Squalor, or Annabelle Rice, fit right in the category of people he liked. People who were as rich as they were snob and ostentatious, a word which here means ‘conspicuous consumers beyond measure’.
‘Of course, they are not as important or in as you, Ms. Rice.’ Said the butler, not wasting any efforts into pampering the rich woman in front of him.
‘Of course they are not.’ Replied Esmé, or Annabelle.
‘I trust your room is to your liking.’ Said the butler, to which Annabelle, or Esmé, replied, ‘Oh, yes it is. It’s a very in room.’
‘Excuse me, Ms. Rice, where have you purchased your exquisite coat? I’d love to own one!’ asked Carmelita’s mother.
‘My friends, the designers of the House of In, designed this coat just for me. It is one of a kind.’ Said Esmé, or Annabelle, snobbing Carmelita’s mother.
‘Aw, that’s a shame. I really wanted to have such an in coat.’ Whined Carmelita’s mother.
At this point, an old man suddenly burst into the room screaming, ‘AAAAAHHHHH!’ he screamed, scaring everyone in the room. Carmelita’s mother passed out and needed smelling salts to recover afterwards, while Esmé, or Annabelle, did not seem scared at all, as if she was very used to it. Everyone else’s hearts were still pounding hard from the scare when the butler finally introduced the old man, who was laughing as if it was a funny thing to do, scaring people for fun.
‘E-everyone…’ said the butler, who still hadn’t recovered, ‘ this is M-Master Mortimer Montague, owner o-of Montague M-Manor and y-your host…’ and then he sat on an armchair.
‘Hahaha!’ laughed Mortimer Montague, still having fun looking at everyone’s pale faces. ‘Scared you good, didn’t I know?’ he asked, approaching the guests. As he approached, the Baudelaires could examine his appearance. Mortimer Montague was a short, old man with half-moon glasses and a thick moustache. His white, silvery hair pulled upwards in each side of his head, seeming almost as two white horns in the back of his head, and the tips of his hair were still black, as a mere vestige of his younger days. He wore a long purple coat and many pieces of jewelry with purple, precious stones. He carried a cane which ended in what seemed to be an increased version of a Knight of the game of chess. He looked very eccentric, but not nearly as much as Esmé, or Annabelle, did in that moment.
‘I’m sorry about your mother, young girl’ he said to Carmelita, ‘I like to scare my guests as a mean of entertainment. I believe that scares make guests more interested and entertained and less bored when they stay in my humble abode.’ Said Mortimer, ending in an expression which here could be replaced by ‘my enormous, lavish, ivy-covered and not at all humble, dark manor.’
Violet, Klaus, Sunny and Beatrice had a few things to think about Mortimer’s belief, but as they were very polite young woman and man, and children, they chose to sit in the armchairs and drink tea to recover from the scare. Carmelita’s mother was still unconscious, and her husband was trying to wake her up with pouch smelling salts.
‘You old cakesniffer!’ shouted Carmelita, ‘Look what you did to my mom! Uncle Bruce, tell this old geezer what a cakesniffer he is!’
‘Now, now, Carmelita. Let’s be nice to our host, he didn’t mean to make your mother go unconscious.’ Said Bruce, smoking on his cigar.
‘What a delightful young girl you are, Carmelita!’ said Mortimer, who apparently remained oblivious to have been insulted by the detestable girl in front of him. ‘And who are you, young ones?’ he turned to the Baudelaires, sitting in the armchairs.
‘I’m Veronica Beauregard, and these are my brothers, Klyde, Sonny and… Bo.’ Said Violet, quickly making up a last name for their disguises.
‘Oh, I trust you’ll enjoy your stay in my humble abode! I’ve prepared a tiny dinner party for us all in two days! I have to retire now, but I’ll join you later for supper!’ said Mortimer, turning his back to everyone and walking away. While everyone else thought they were safe, Mortimer quickly turned and screamed again, ‘AAAAAAHHH!’ and scaring all but Annabelle, or Esmé, and this time, Carmelita’s father passed out too, and Beatrice started to cry. Mortimer left the room, giggling, with his butler in tow, the man a pile of shaking nerves, oblivious to the damages he caused with his scare.
‘My, what’s wrong with him?’ asked Klaus, picking up Beatrice and kissing her forehead. ‘Scaring everyone like that!That’s not a polite thing to do!’
‘But is is so
in!’ said Esmé, or Annabelle. Then, another man walked into the room, and the Baudelaires, who thought things couldn’t get any stranger, saw that the man carried a snake in a cage, and wore a tall top hat similar to the one Mr.Poe always sported. He also wore a green coat, and he had eyes that were very green. The man sit in an armchair, putting the cage on the table and then he spoke.
‘Hello, hello, hello. I am Harold Potter, a herpetologist.’ Said the man, pointing to the snake in the cage.
‘Of course you are!You are in the Herpetological Society, aren’t you?’ asked Bruce. When Uncle Monty died, it was Bruce that came to pick up Monty’s extensive reptile collection, and later the Olaf identified him as the man who had unknowingly provided the fire-starting side of the V.F.D. schism with the reptiles.
‘Yes. I am here to research the snakes of the property of Mr. Montague, as there are many snakes around these parts.’ Said Harold.
‘More tea, miss?’ asked a voice behind Violet, scaring her, and she looked to the side to find a woman dressed in an uniform, holding up a teapot. The woman was strangely familiar, but Violet could not remember where she had seen the woman before. She then noticed another woman coming from behind, also holding a teapot, and offering Klaus more tea. That woman was also strangely familiar, but Violet still could not place her anywhere in her memories.
‘Yes, please.’ The woman poured more tea into Violet’s cup and proceeded to fill everyone else’s cups.
‘So, Ms. Rice, why are you here for?’ asked Bruce.
‘I am here because it’s very in at the moment.’ Said Esmé, or Annabelle. ‘Why else would I be here?’ she asked, sarcastically. The tone in her voice made Bruce seem as if he was shrinking in size. While the others proceeded on a long and boring conversation, Violet, Klaus, Sunny, and Beatrice whispered among themselves.
‘We have to find out what Esmé is up to. Cindry also might be here. I doubt Esmé would have let her go.’ Said Violet.
‘But how exactly are we supposed to do that? This manor is so big and dark we will get lost even if we have the map.’ Said Klaus.
‘We have to, Cindry might really be here somewhere, Klaus!’ said Sunny.
‘Rescue!’ said little Beatrice and the other Baudelaires agreed. No matter what, they would find and rescue Cindry Fulfillment. Even if it meant walking in that dark, ivy-covered, enourmous lavish, and villain-filled manor.