Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 297

Barbara Allen coughed and sputtered as she held her child close to her breast, shielding his face from the smoke that billowed out of the house from which they had just fled.

Charles caught her as she stumbled. “We must go,” he panted.

Barbara turned to look at the house as it flickered, flames licking at the windows as the lace curtains inside evaporated into piles of ash. She could hear the screams of the home’s occupants—loudest of them all Ulrika’s, Iolanthe’s and Marie’s.

Barbara’s mind replayed the events that had led to that moment—in a strange, quick succession of images.

Marie had threatened the boy, Colin, and a rage the likes of which she’d never known before overtook Barbara as she broke away from Charles, overturning oil lamps and candles as she overpowered Marie and took her child from the arms of the Voodoo Priestess.

How did they escape?

As flames from the disturbed lamps and candles quickly gobbled up the brittle wood of Marie’s old, mean house, Charles had grabbed Barbara around the waist—the child dangling from her arms—and pulled her from the building as Marie, Iolanthe and Ulrika scurried to extinguish the fire.

“They’ll be coming for us!” Charles shouted. “Barbara! Hurry!”

Charles looked pleadingly at the woman he’d grown to love. For a moment, his body was gripped in a terrible shiver as he thought that aside from the three wicked women, that house was occupied by his brother, Nellie, Marie’s daughter and brother-in-law and who knew who many others. He feared for them, but knew they must flee.

Barbara took a deep breath and began to run. Charles followed.

“Where are you going?” Charles panted behind her.

“I don’t know.” Barbara coughed.

“We must bring the boy back to His Grace.” Charles sputtered.

“No!” Barbara said loudly, not pausing.

“Barbara?” Charles shouted.

“No.” Barbara said emphatically. “Not this time.”

Within the burning house, Marie cursed loudly and began chanting in a tongue unknown to Ulrika who grinned at the menace with which it trickled. Iolanthe began to chant as well as the two women—assisted by young Marie and Louis Glapion—struggled to extinguish the flames.

“Ulrika!” Marie shouted. “Go to the back of the house and help those there escape.”

Ulrika paused.

“Go, Woman!” Marie screamed.

In a strange moment of cooperation, Ulrika did as instructed, rushing through the back corridor, banging on doors. Nellie—who was still hiding in the larder—heard Ulrika’s calls and knocks, but did not come out.

Next, Ulrika pounded on Giovanni’s door.

“Help me!” Giovanni shouted.

Ulrika thrust the door open to find the injured Giovanni still in his bed, trying to get up.

Their eyes met and they both grinned.

As the flames behind her illuminated her red hair, Ulrika gazed at Giovanni Iantosca, knowing her life was forever changed.

“You look like a demon, my beauty.” Giovanni sighed despite the danger around them. “You look magnificent.”

“As do you,” Ulrika purred.

“Help me,” Giovanni said softly.

“Anything.” Ulrika smiled, walking toward the man’s bed.

Meanwhile, Mr. Punch sighed contentedly as he once again returned to their borrowed house on Royal Street.

After checking on Fuller, Robert and Punch said good night to Adrienne and Cecil and retreated to Punch’s/Julian’s room.

Punch happily sprawled out on the familiar bed—the closest thing to a home he’d had in awhile. He squealed with glee as Toby jumped upon the bed with him and embraced the dog gently, scratching his ears and cooing at the faithful animal.

Robert grinned broadly. “I’ll return in a moment.”

“Here, where you goin’, Chum?” Punch squawked.

“Wait here.” Robert nodded. “I won’t be long.”

And, he wasn’t. Robert returned quickly with Mr. Punch’s puppet and placed the wooden-headed figure next to Punch and the dog.

“Oh! Me friend! Me puppet friend! I missed him, too.”

Robert sat on the edge of the bed and looked affectionately at Mr. Punch—ensconced with his beloved terrier and his puppet. “I know that you did.”

“Coo! I’m sleepy.” Punch sighed.

“I’m sure.” Robert nodded. “I am, too.”

“Here, you think they’ll cooperate—the beadle and the constable?” Punch asked.

“I don’t know.” Robert smiled. “I’m not quite sure they call their authorities beadles here, by the way.”

“Whatever they call ‘em.” Punch shrugged. “They’ll help us, won’t they? They’ll help us get the baby back, yes?”

“I hope so,” Robert nodded. “We’ll have to tell them about our deception in making people think we’d been killed. And, we’ll have to expose Barbara’s part in the crime, but I hope that common sense will prevail.”

“Think we’ll get in trouble?” Punch asked. “We didn’t do nothin’ too bad. I’m very good, you know. Very, very good. Don’t think we should get in trouble.”

“I don’t know.” Robert replied, “but it’s what we need to do. It’s what we should have done in the first place.”

Marjani knocked on the door before opening it and poking her head in. “Pardon me, Sirs.”

“Yes, Marjani?” Robert asked.

“Come to say ‘good night’ to us? How’s Columbia?” Punch asked.

“She’s fine, Sir.” Marjani nodded. “But, we got a visitor.”

“Who?” Robert asked.

“Arthur.” Marjani shook her head.

“Send him ‘way. I don’t want to see ‘im. The lyin’ beast!” Punch growled.

“He’s come to see me,” Marjani explained. “His friend—the dimwit—brought him.”

“Why?” Robert wondered.

“I saw the man, Doctor,” Marjani answered seriously. “Arthur’s got the Yellow Jack.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-296? If so, you can read them here.