A/N:...frankly, I'm tired of giving excuses for these long periods between updates, and you're probably tired of hearing them, yes? So I will simply say that I am terribly sorry that you've had to wait this long (and only 5 pages to show for it!), and if you've stuck this long with me, then you are my heroines/heroes. I've already started writing the next chapter (a very long and VERY imprtant one); while this is no longer a guarantee that said chapter will be up quickly, at least you know for certain it will be posted at all. :) This little chapter below is another filler, but it is rather important I think. You'll see why in a minute.

Disclaimer: If I had a dollar for every character that wasn't mine...

Chapter Twelve:

Night Escapades

-Ludovic Buquet-

"The idea of strictly minding our own business is moldy rubbish. Who could be so selfish?"

-Myrtie Barker

Creak! Grrooooaaan – CRASH!

"Thomas, you fool! Are you trying to get us caught?"

"Sorry!"

I rolled my eyes at my friend's clumsiness. You'd think that after all the times we'd snuck into Silaton Place, he could at least remember how to shut the gate properly!

We hid behind the trunks of the old trees, hugging ourselves against the damp chill of night. Since I was closest, I looked up at the windows, scared that we might have woken the Comte.

Thankfully, no light appeared.

"Let's just go back," Thomas whined. "Why don't we go back home?"

"Because if we do, then we have to do Jean's chores for a month," Luc whispered back. "Hmm…Jean's chores…a week's worth of candy," I could barely see him holding his hands like an uneven scale, "which would you rather have?"

Thomas trailed off into resentful muttering.

The sound of shuffling yet familiar footsteps reached my ears. I sighed quietly. Call me a bad grandson, but part of me had secretly hoped that Thomas had shut the gate on him.

"Stupid kids," my half-crazy grandfather, Joseph Buquet, mumbled. "Gettin' up at all hours, pullin' pranks – mavericks, all of yeh…"

I signed frantically for him to stop talking. He had lost his hearing many years ago, but that hadn't stopped him from voicing his opinion as often and as loudly as he used to when he could still hear himself doing so. At least, that was how my maman always explained it.

"Remind me why we had to bring your grandpère," Thomas said. He sounded very frustrated…or just peeved.

I rolled my eyes again, and then remembered that he couldn't really see me. "I told you, he woke up as I was sneaking out. He insisted on coming with me so he could 'protect' me. He said that if I didn't take him he'd tell my parents, and they would whip me good if they knew what we were doing!"

There was a quiet scoffing noise that I thought came from Thomas, though I would not like to swear it.

"What is your problem? Why do you always get us into trouble? If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't even be here!"

What Thomas said was sadly true – more often than not, I don't brag as much as exaggerate – but my temper instantly flared. He was my friend, and he was still blaming me?

"No one forced you to come along! If you weren't so nosy all the time–"

"I had to be sure that Jean wasn't looking for an excuse to whip you again!"

"Oh, right, you're so–"

"Hey!" Luc hissed at us. Thomas and I stopped arguing. "Would you two just be quiet for once? I don't want to get caught, and if you two keep arguing, we'll wake someone up!"

I shot a glare at Thomas – or at least, in Thomas's general direction. After taking my grandfather's hand, I whispered for Thomas and Luc to follow me.

We crept up to the house as quickly as we dared, darting in and out of the shadows like bats. My heart began to pound faster and faster, my mouth dry as sand. I really did not want to get caught, especially by the Comte! There were rumours that he turned into some sort of animal at night, and if he caught you while he roamed his land, he'd eat you without a second thought! I didn't want that to happen to any of us, not even Thomas – but I definitely wasn't scared.

Of course not.

At last, we made it to the steps and onto the terrace. We looked through the different windows, trying to see through the cracks in the drapery inside. It was very dark.

"See anything?"

"Nothing…"

"Sacre bleu, does he have enough books?"

I knew I should have paid attention. If I hadn't been so focused on spying with my friends, I might have been able to stop what happened next.

I barely heard my grandfather muttering again as he stepped towards the huge double doors.

"Kids these days…when I was your age, if you wanted to talk to someone, you just–"

He pushed one of the doors open…and disappeared inside.

"Oh no," I gasped. Thomas, Luc, and I sprinted for the doors. I didn't know what I would or could do once I reached them. All I could think of were the scariest stories I had heard about the Comte, and how angry he would be to find an intruder, and my poor grandfather shuffling around in there, and what my parents would do to me if they knew what was happening–!

The door slammed shut just as we were about to burst through. I pulled and twisted the doorknobs so hard that I hurt my shoulders, but both doors were locked!

"Stupid – stupid – stupid old man!" I hissed angrily to myself. I was starting to panic. "What was he thinking?"

"Just move over," Thomas ordered quietly. He pulled his trusty pins out of his pocket and began to pick the lock.

"Monseigneur!"

"Heavens preserve us," I whispered. What did my grandfather think he was doing? He was going to get us all into trouble!

"Monseigneur! My grandson is outside and would like to meet yeh! Heaven knows why–"

"Hurry!" I mouthed at Thomas, signaling him to move faster.

"Wait!" Luc interrupted.

"Are you out of your–"

"Listen!"

We pressed our ears against the door. I could hear my grandfather's slow footsteps…and other, more powerful strides that became louder and louder.

Oh no.

The footsteps stopped, and the silence that followed seemed to last forever. I barely breathed, afraid that whoever was on the other side would somehow hear me.

"What in the devil's name are you doing in my house?!"

The large, powerful voice that thundered out scared us so much that we all backed away, tripped on the stairs, and fell over backwards. I shot up instantly.

"Saints help us…he's got my grandfather!"

I almost began to run back up the steps, but Luc was faster. He grabbed my shoulders and started to pull me towards the gates.

"Ludo, no! We've got to tell someone!"

"No! I can't leave my grandfather!"

"We can't help him!" Thomas added. His voice shook as much as his hands. "We're just kids! We can't do anything!"

"Except tell someone. Let's go, Ludo!"

"But–"

"Come on!"

I sighed, angry and scared about what was going to happen. Then I turned and ran with my friends to the gates.

"What am I going to tell my parents?"

"I don't know! Just make up something!"

"He was sleepwalking?"

"I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't wake up!"

"He walked all the way to Silaton Place – while he was asleep?"

"I tried to stop him, I swear I did!"

"You're lying to me."

"No, I'm not – ow, ow, ow!"

My father leaned down to speak into my ear, which he held tightly between his fingers.

"You expect me to believe that your grandfather, who has never so much as mumbled in his sleep, climbed out your window – and sleepwalked to Silaton Place? And how do Thomas and Luc figure in this?"

I hadn't thought of a good story to explain why my friends had been with me (at least, not in a way that my father would believe and wouldn't get them in trouble), so I used the best answer: silence.

"I see," my father whispered when I refused to say anything. With many protests of pain on my part, he pulled me by my ear out the front door and onto the terrace.

A mob had gathered in front of our house. They were waving torches, tools, and old weapons. My mother was standing at the edge of the terrace in her nightdress and robe, telling everyone what terrible danger my grandfather was in. I didn't know if she meant to, but she was working them into a frenzy.

"–and he's trapped in there, with him! Who knows what sort of danger he's in? Please, you must bring him back!"

I knew that my grandfather was in some sort of trouble. I knew that I was certainly in trouble with my parents, and that my friends were most likely in trouble as well. But…seeing everyone that animated, waving their different weapons…the prospect of violence…I don't know how to describe it…

It was exciting.

"Never fear, Madame Buquet!"

"We will bring back your father-in-law!"

"We're more than a match for the Comte!"

"Oh, thank you!"

The shouting reached such a pitch that at first, no one noticed the figure that opened the window next to the front door.

"Would yeh all shut up?! I can't hear mehself think!"

"Grandfather?" I called as I turned around.

It was impossible…

Everyone "shut up" real quick.

"Père?" my own father asked, his voice shaking. I stood staring at them both with my mouth gaping like a fish.

How was it possible? I had definitely seen him walk into Silaton Place – the door had locked behind him – how had he gotten back home without being noticed?

And what did he mean by what he had shouted? My grandfather had been deaf ever since I could remember – yet he had definitely told us that we were being too loud for him…

Did he really mean it? Or was he just saying it to be confusing, the way grown-ups sometimes did?

"What's wrong? Don't yeh recognize your own father anymore, boy?" Grandfather laughed, like what he said was clever. His laugh was a dry sound, like autumn leaves rustling against each other. I would never tell anyone, but I had often wished that he would laugh more often.

My father gaped at him. "But you – you can't…how?"

Grandfather looked at him, then at the crowd on the lawn. All of their faces had similar expressions of shock and wonder as they waited for my grandfather's response.

If there was anything my grandfather loved as much as a good cut of meat, it was an audience.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then said, "Oh, come in already."

The crowd surged onto the terrace as people found room in our small drawing room. They were all whispering excitedly, saying that it was a miracle, and wouldn't my family be so happy?

I skipped inside with them. Maybe I wasn't in a heap of trouble after all.

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