The Penultimate Peril - Snicket Lemony. Страница 29

"We're sorry," Sunny said, and the manager looked down at the youngest Baudelaire and blinked. Perhaps he was Frank, and thought the Baudelaires had done something wicked, or perhaps he was Ernest, and thought the Baudelaires had done something noble, but in either case the manager looked surprised that the children were sorry. For a moment, he paused, and gave them a tiny nod, but then he shut the door and the Baudelaire children were alone. The door of Room 121 was surprisingly thick, and although the light of the lobby shone clearly through the gap at the bottom of the door, the noise of the crowd was nothing but a faint buzzing, like a swarm of bees or the workings of a machine. The orphans sank to the floor, exhausted from their busy day and their terrible, terrible night. They took off their shoes and leaned against one another in the cramped surroundings, trying to find a comfortable position and listening to the buzz of the arguing crowd in the lobby.

"What will happen to us?" Violet asked.

"I don't know," Klaus said.

"Perhaps we should have run," Violet said, "like you suggested, Klaus."

"Perhaps at a trial," the middle Baudelaire said, "the villains at last will be brought to justice."

"Olaf," Sunny asked, "or us?"

What Sunny asked, of course, was whether Count Olaf was the villain who would be brought to justice, or if it would be the three Baudelaires, but her siblings had no answer for her. Instead, the eldest Baudelaire leaned down and kissed the top of her sister's head, and Klaus leaned up to kiss Violet's, and Sunny moved her head first to the right and then to the left, to kiss both of them. If you had been in the lobby of the Hotel Denouement, you would not have heard anything from behind the thick door of Room 121, as the Baudelaires ended their conversation with a great, shuddering sigh, and nestled close to one another in the small space. You would have had to be on the other side of the door, leaning against the children yourself, to hear the tiny, quiet sounds as the Baudelaire orphans cried themselves to sleep, unable to answer Sunny's question.

CHAPTEREleven

An old expression, used even before the schism, says that people should not see the creation of laws or sausages. This makes sense, as the creation of sausages involves taking various parts of different animals and shaping them until they are presentable at breakfast, and the creation of laws involves taking various parts of different ideas and shaping them until they are presentable at breakfast, and most people prefer to spend their breakfasts eating food and reading the newspaper without being exposed to creation of any sort whatsoever.

The High Court, like most courts, was not involved in the creation of laws, but it was involved in the interpretation of laws, which is as perplexing and unfathomable as their creation, and like the interpretation of sausages is something that also should not be seen. If you were to put this book down, and travel to the pond that now reflects nothing but a few burnt scraps of wood and the empty skies, and if you were to find the hidden passageway that leads to the underwater catalog that has remained secret and safe for all these years, you could read an account of an interpretation of sausages that went horribly wrong and led to the destruction of a very important bathyscaphe, all because I mistakenly thought the sausages were arranged in the shape of a K when actually the waiter had been trying to make an R, and an account of an interpretation of the law that went horribly wrong, although it would hardly be worth the trip as that account is also contained in the remaining chapters of this book, but if you were at all sensible you would shield your eyes from such interpretations, as they are too dreadful to read. As Violet, Klaus, and Sunny caught a few winks-a phrase which here means "slept fitfully in the closet-sized Room 121"-arrangements were made for the trial, during which the three judges of the High Court would interpret the laws and decide on the nobility and treachery of Count Olaf and the Baudelaires, but the children were surprised to learn, when a sharp knock on the door awakened them, that they would not see this interpretation themselves.

"Here are your blindfolds," said one of the managers, opening the door and handing the children three pieces of black cloth. The Baudelaires suspected he was Ernest, as he hadn't bothered to say "Hello."

"Blindfolds?" Violet asked.

"Everyone wears blindfolds at a High Court trial," the manager replied, "except the judges, of course. Haven't you heard the expression 'Justice is blind'?"

"Yes," Klaus said, "but I always thought itmeant that justice should be fair and unprejudiced."

"The verdict of the High Court was to take the expression literally," said the manager, "so everyone except the judges must cover their eyes before the trial can begin."

"Scalia," Sunny said. She meant something like, "It doesn't seem like the literal interpretation makes any sense," but her siblings did not think it was wise to translate.

"I also brought you some tea," he said, revealing a tray containing a teapot and three cups. "I thought it might fortify you for the trial."

By "fortify," the manager meant that a few sips of tea might give the children some much-needed strength for their ordeal, and the children thought it must be Frank who was doing them such a favor. "You're very kind," Violet said.

"I'm sorry there's no sugar," he said.

"That's quite all right," Klaus said, and then hurriedly flipped to a page in his commonplace book until he found his notes on the children's conversation with Kit Snicket. "'Tea should be bitter as wormwood,'" he read, "'and as sharp as a two-edged sword.'"

The manager gave Klaus a small, unfathomable smile. "Drink your tea," he said. "I'll knock in a few minutes to bring you to trial."

Frank, unless it was Ernest, shut the door, and left the Baudelaires alone.

"Why did you say that about the tea?" Violet asked.

"I thought he might be talking to us in code," Klaus said. "I thought if we gave the proper reply, something might happen."

"Unfathomable," Sunny said.

"Everything seems unfathomable," Violet said with a sigh, pouring tea for her siblings. "It's getting so that I can't tell a noble person from a wicked one."

"Kit said that the only way to tell a villain from a volunteer is to observe everyone, and make such judgements ourselves," Klaus said, "but that hasn't helped us at all."

"Today the High Court will do the judging for us," Violet said. "Maybe they'll prove to be helpful."

"Or fail us," Sunny said.

The eldest Baudelaire smiled, and reached to help her sister put on her shoes. "I wish our parents could see how much you've grown," she said. "Mother always said that as soon as you learned to walk, Sunny, you'd be going places."

"I doubt a closet in the Hotel Denouement was what she had in mind," Klaus said, blowing on his tea to cool it.

"Who knows what they had in mind?" Violet asked. "That's one more mystery we'll probably never solve."

Sunny took a sip of tea, which was indeed as bitter as wormwood and as sharp as a two-edged sword, although the youngest Baudelaire had little experience with metallic weapons or hoary aromatic plants of the composite family, used in certain recreational tonics. "Mama and Poppa," she said hesitantly, "and poison darts?"

Her siblings did not have time to answer, as there was another knock on the door. "Finish your tea," called either Frank or Ernest, "and put on your blindfolds. The trial is about to begin."

The Baudelaires hurried to follow the instructions of either the volunteer or the villain, and took a few quick sips of their tea, tied their shoes, and wound the pieces of cloth around their eyes. In a moment they heard the door of Room 121 open, and heard Frank or Ernest step toward them.