Arwen walked back into the kitchen. "I hope you weren't eavesdropping Baudelaires, because if you were, it would ruin the surprise I'm about to give you."
Violet, Klaus and Sunny didn't know how to act. Should they pretend to be surprised? The truth was that they could barely contain their excitement at all, but before they were forced to feign ignorance, a phrase which here means pretend that they hadn't heard all of Arwen's half of the conversation, the doorbell rang.
The sound of the doorbell rang out across the kitchen, and the Baudelaires watched Arwen San Conflegro as he stood up from the breakfast table.
"Ah, the surprise will have to wait. This will be Mr. Morterio, who is a film producer very interested in producing some of my films." As Arwen San Conflegro's footsteps echoed down the long wooden corridor, the siblings looked at each other warily, a word which here means "wondered whether this mysterious visitor would prove to be Count Olaf in disguise".
"I wouldn't be surprised", said Violet, and her two siblings nodded gravely.
They listened to Arwen San Conflegro greeting the visitor, who returned his greeting in a wheezy voice all-too-familiar to the Baudelaire orphans. Sure enough, Arwen San Conflegro walked down the corridor trailed by a man wearing a cowboy hat pulled forward to cover his single eyebrow and high riding boots to hide the tattoo of an eye on his ankle. The two adults joined the Baudelaires at the table, with Count Olaf giving the siblings one of his wicked looks.
"I'm sorry but Mister Morterio has decided to resume his career as an actor," said Count Olaf, "and he is busy preparing for his next role as a murder victim. However I am the excellent and well known film producer, Col Faunot, and I'm very interested to talk about your films, Mr Conflegro. And who are these fine young children you have in your care?"
"As you all know, I am an actor, and so I am accustomed to costumes," began Arwen San Conflegro as he resumed eating the scrambled eggs Sunny had prepared. "But you see, I am not a theatre actor, used to gharish makeup and overdone costumes. In films, realism is key and nothing is overdone. And so I can see immediately, Col Faunot, that you are in fact Count Olaf. As it happens, even your name simply consists of the letters in 'Count Olaf' switched around. Olaf, please remove your absurd hat at once, though I must ask you to keep your absurd shoes on because I don't want your unwashed feet overpowering the delightful smell of this excellent breakfast."
The Baudelaires looked at one another, and Klaus and Violet almost exclaimed in delight.
"Intuigo", whispered Sunny, which her siblings knew to mean something along the lines of "remember the last time a guardian believed us about Count Olaf," and the two elder siblings grew more circumspect, a phrase which here means "remembered the time their guardian pushed them down an elevator shaft and into a net".
Count Olaf's evil eyes glinted as he considered whether to attack Arwen San Conflegro or run away. Instead, he took off his cowboy hat to reveal his single sinister eyebrow. "And who are you, Arwen Conflegro," he said. "You don't look like a Volunteer."
"I'll tell you who I am as soon as you explain your latest villainous plot to capture the Baudelaire fortune."
Count Olaf turned to the Baudelaires with another sneer. "While we're all explaining things, perhaps you could explain to your guardian what the following people have in common: Aunt Josephine, Jacques Snicket, the Chief of Police of the Village of Fowl Devotees, the - "
"That will be quite enough!" thundered Arwen San Conflegro, before continuing in a calm, very forced tone of voice which disguised his anger as poorly as Count Olaf's disguise had disguised Count Olaf. "It is not proper, Count Olaf, to be invited into my home, in disguise, in order to threaten children under my guardianship, and then indirectly threaten to murder me. You've done at least three entirely improper things and I haven't even finished my otherwise delightful breakfast."
Count Olaf looked down at the table, and the Baudelaires thought that he looked embarrassed. "Can I at least have some breakfast?" he said.
"You may," replied Arwen San Conflegro.
"It's the least you could do for me after embarrassing me like that," Olaf muttered, helping himself to a large serve of scrambled eggs.
"And you should know, my proper name is Arwen San Conflegro. Not, as you said, Arwen Conflegro. The distinction is very important to me."
Violet put her fork down on the table. "Arwen - "
" - San Conflegro - " Klaus added.
"Yes, Arwen San Conflegro," Violet continued, "I feel very uncomfortable with Count Olaf being present at the breakfast table. I would much rather report this villain to the police than feed him scrambled eggs." Violet thought of the last time she and her siblings had fed Count Olaf, when they had made a puttenesca sauce, and he had been extremely ungrateful.
"The Orphans cooked these eggs? Eugh," said Count Olaf, pushing the plate away from himself. "You should have told me! I can't believe I ate it. It's disgusting, take it away."
"See, there's no need to feed him after all," said Arwen. "Now Count Olaf, the other thing you ruined was me telling the Violet Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire a surprise."
"Oh, there's no need to tell us the surprise now," said Violet, desperate to prevent Arwen from telling Olaf that the Quagmires had been found.
"Yes we've really had quite enough surprises for one day," said Klaus. "Perhaps later, when Count Olaf has been reported to the Authorities, you can tell us."
"Now now, let's nobody get carried away. There's no need to involve the Authorities, nobody is engaging in any criminal behaviour right at this moment," said Arwen.
"But Count Olaf has probably just murdered Mister Morterio!" said Violet.
"That does seem a little vulgar," said Arwen, using a phrase perhaps more suited to an ugly pair of pants or talking in the theatre than the murder of a film producer. "But there's no use crying over spilt milk. Count Olaf, I must agree with Violet however, that your presence here does ruin the breakfast somewhat. Why don't I show you to your quarters?"
"No!" cried Violet.
"His quarters? He can't stay here!" said Klaus.
"Stauff!" said Sunny.
"Why would I want to stay here with you anyway?" said Count Olaf.
"Oh you will stay here," said Arwen, as he grabbed Olaf by the arm and walked him down the corridor. Violet and Klaus looked at each other, before standing up and following the two adults out into the hallway. They quickly caught up to them, but not before Arwen San Conflegro could whisper something in Count Olaf's ear.
"You'll stay," he whispered, "because if you leave, the Baudelaire Fortune will never be yours, my employees and I will keep you out. But if you stay, well, I'll be watching you, but I might slip and you might get your chance. So you'll stay. It might only be a small chance, because I'm very thorough, but it's the only one you have right now." He looked over his shoulder to see the Baudelaires close enough to be able to eavesdrop on anything further, if they so chose.
"Olaf, this is your room. Why don't you go inside and make yourself at home."
"I'd love to," said Olaf, looking nastily at the Baudelaire Orphans. "I'm very comfortable here indeed," and he walked into the room.
"Now children, listen to me," Arwen said as he shut the door, which looked like a heavy prison door but swung closed lightly and easily. "I'm going to keep Olaf in this room, which as you can see, can be bolted shut from the outside." He slid the bolt closed with a clang.
"Oh wonderful," said Klaus, "you're going to keep him trapped there so he can't escape while the authorities come to arrest him. That's very clever of you - far more clever than Mr Poe."
"Oh no, don't be silly," said Arwen. "If we call the Police, he'll no doubt just talk his way out of it and be set free. No, I have a much better idea. You see, it's perfect. As soon as Count Olaf walked in, I knew everything would work out. A we need to do is convince Olaf to act in our film, which he will do, and then in a scene where he tries to murder one of you, we'll call the police and have him arrested for attempted murder."
"But pretending to murder somebody in a film scene isn't a crime," said Violet.
"Oh that's the beauty of it. See, we'll have a stabbing scene. Yes, I can picture it now. And Olaf will have one of those retractable theatre knives. Then, Violet will cry out 'no, police, this isn't according to the script,' and then the police officers will storm the stage, and in the confusion, you'll switch the theatre knife for a real knife, and Olaf will be caught attempting to murder you, using the show as a cover. But really, you'll be using the show as a cover to frame Olaf for the murder."
"No," said Violet. "No, no no. First of all, why does it have to be me being stabbed?" She thought back to when Sunny was trapped in a cage and she was nearly forced to marry Count Olaf in his terrible play. "I won't do it. I'm not a doll to be used in this way. Being stabbed by Count Olaf is the last thing I want to even pretend to do. In fact, I'm sure that the last thing anybody should be doing is encouraging such a wicked person to commit yet more crimes."
"You certainly are correct, Violet Baudelaire," said Arwen San Conflegro.
"And so," he continued, "allow me to modify my suggestion. Mr Poe has told me of some of your unpleasant experiences with Count Olaf. Perhaps it would be more fitting if it were Klaus who were stabbed."
The Beaudelaires said nothing, as Violet looked at Klaus, Klaus looked at Sunny, and Sunny looked at Violet.
"No doubt you children will want to discuss this amongst yourselves, so I will leave you to think about it. I will be in the kitchen finishing my breakfast; please let me know if you come to a decision." and with that, Arwen San Conflegro began to walk back down the corridor, but not before adjusting the large black sprinkler so it hung directly over the heads of the Baudelaire children.
"What do you think?" Violet asked her siblings.
"I don't know," Klaus replied, "I feel nervous about schemes."
"Jobsch", said Sunny.
"You're right Sunny, that might be because we've usually been on the receiving end," Klaus said.
"Not always," said Violet quietly, thinking back to the hall of records at the Heimlich Hospital. "And anyway, it's different because we're not trying to save our lives. We're be the ones initiating the scheme this time."
"But we are in danger from Count Olaf," Klaus said, glancing at the bolted door, "and we won't be safe until he is in jail!"
"Do you think I don't know that Klaus?" said Violet. "But that doesn't mean we should start trapping people into being arrested for crimes they might not have been going to commit!"
"But Count Olaf did commit that crime. Or almost the same one. He tried to use a play as a ploy to steal our fortune, with Justice Strauss. It's a crime he's already committed."
"I just don't know Klaus. I don't know. Count Olaf isn't scheming against us right now, he's locked in that room. We'd be creating a scheme totally on our own, instead of responding to one of Olaf's. Besides, I can think of another problem - how can we trust Arwen San Conflegro? It's true that he seems to have our best interests at heart, but we should be careful," said Violet.
"That's a good point," said Klaus, nodding his head. "It's true that his name sounds like 'no fire', but that's probably not a good reason to trust a guardian. And we haven't always had good luck with our guardians."
"Esme," said Sunny, referring to the fashionable woman who had forced such horrors onto the children as nets, ill-fitting clothing, and dark passageways - all while helping Count Olaf enact a treacherous scheme to steal the Beaudelaire fortune.
"But we knew from the beginning that Esme was very rude and obsessed with fashion. In a way, it wasn't a surprise that she turned out to be in cahoots with Count Olaf," said Violet with a sad look on her face.
"For all we know, Arwen San Conflegro is Count Olaf's boyfriend, and he invited him here himself," said Klaus, taking off his glasses and wiping them with a hankerchief.
"Hankscorp," said Sunny, which meant something like 'he seems friendly, but may turn out to have sinister intentions.'
The reader may be aware of the saying 'A wolf in sheep's clothing'. The expression is, of course, true of all wolves because sheep (like wolves) wear no clothing at all and so sheep and wolves are always wearing the same thing, which is nothing. The reader can see that such a saying is not worth the paper it is written on, an expression which here means 'not a very useful description for people, wolves or sheep'. Despite being not very useful, the expression is commonly used to refer to somebody who seems friendly, like a sheep, but turns out to have sinister intentions, like a wolf pretending to be a sheep only so that he can devour the shepherd's children. The three Baudelaire children wouldn't have used such an expression, but each secretly wondered whether their new guardian was a wolf in sheep's clothing.
"I think we should tell Arwen San Conflegro that we are not happy with his scheme," said Violet after a pause.
"I think you're right," Klaus agreed.
"Concer," Sunny nodded.
"Arwen San Conflegro?" Violet called their guardian's name, even as she heard his footsteps coming down the corridor.
"Yes Violet Baudelaire?" Arwen replied, appearing immediately in the doorway.
"We are hesitant to go ahead with the scheme," she told their guardian.
"Yes, yes. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. But, equally, he who hesitates is lost. You are in quite a tricky dilemna."
"Not really," said Klaus, well aware that the existence of contradictory expressions doesn't necessarily mean that one in a tricky dilemna. "It's just, it's a very dangerous plan, from out point of view. What if Olaf got hold of the real knife first? What if I were really stabbed?"
"Ah, Klaus Baudelaire, you can speak your heart with me. What three are really concerned about is the possibility that I am a wolf in sheep's clothing! Very clever, very good. Perhaps we can come up with a solution to this problem, and allay your fears", a phrase which here means 'convince you that the real plot is not to kill you'.
"I don't think so," said Violet. "We don't think that there's a simple solution, we simply do not want to be part of this plan."
"Ah, but you wouldn't object to a plan much like it taking place, provided it didn't involve you directly?" asked Arwen with a glint in his eye.
"No, what my sister means is -" But Klaus didn't get a chance to explain what Violet meant, because at that moment the doorbell rang.
"Oh! More guests! What a delightful start to the day," said Arwen, rubbing his hands together and looking at each of the Baudelaires in turn. "Let's not talk schemes and villains any more. Why don't you go down and answer the door? I'm sure you'll be very happy with who is there."
Violet looked at Klaus, and Klaus looked at Violet, and then they both looked at Sunny.
"Do you think -"
"Could it really be -"
"Quagmire!"
The three children turned and ran along the mirrored hallways, until they reached the stairs. The three of them stopped at the landing, and looked down at a film poster which caught their eye.
The title of the film was "The Power of the Man Behind the Camera," and the image was of a figure wearing a coat and a hat and holding a film camera up to their eye. Out of the camera poured rolls and rolls of celluloid film with all kinds of scenes depicted on it, and the person holding the camera (probably a man, thought Violet, judging by the title) had a smile on his face which could have meant anything.
The Baudelaires continued down the stairs and past the movie poster, but as soon as they turned the corner and saw the studio they stopped again, and gazed out in wonder. The weather machine was operating once more, only this time instead of clouds it was generating a thick, shimmering mist.
"It looks like we're looking into a cloud," said Violet. "It's beautiful."
"And very mysterious," said Klaus.
Violet walked down the last few steps, held her arm out into the thick fog, and closed her eyes. The cold mist swirled around her wrist and drops of conensation formed on her hand. She took another step forward and the mist was so thick that she totally disappeared from the sight of her siblings. Her brain knew that she was standing in the Arwen San Conflegro's aboveground basement studio, but her body felt sure that she had just stepped out of a tent pitched high on a mountainside surrounded by clouds. Of course, not even the most beautiful and mysterious cloud in all the world could stop the gears of Violet's inventing brain from ticking over for even one moment, so her thoughts quickly returned to the weather machine and how it worked. If Klaus and Sunny had been able to see, they would have seen their sister take a ribbon out of her pocket and tie her hair back, as she thought about how such a small machine could create so much fog.
"How can such a small machine create so much fog?" she said. "It just doesn't make sense!"
"I'm sure you're right," Klaus said quietly, "but perhaps we should try to find the door and see the Quagmires and then we can wonder about the weather machine afterwards."
"Oh! Of course, there'll be plenty of time to think about the machine later. Sorry Klaus and Sunny." She took her ribben out of her hair as Klaus and Sunny stepped forward into the fog.
"I think it was over there," she said pointing into the fog.
"I agree," said Klaus, and they both set off in opposite directions and immediately bumped into each other.
"Ouch," said Violet.
"My glasses!" said Klaus. "They've fallen down, and I can't see the floor through all this mist."
"Rekalla," said Sunny, handing her brother his glasses, which I'm happy to say were not broken.
"Sunny! How did you find them so quickly?"
"Horse," she replid, and her siblings knelt down to see what she meant.
"You're right, the view from down here is a lot clearer," said Violet.
Politicians among you will know that when you cross the floor, sometimes you will want to do it as quietly as possible in the hope that your fellow politicians are less likely to notice you do it. Sometimes, however, you are content to follow somebody else's example as they lead you through the unknown, even if you can't see where you're going. The case of Violet and Klaus, I'm happy to say, was the latter one. I'm rather less happy to say that as Sunny led them by the hand through the thick fog, seeing as she could the heavy black door on the opposite side of the room, it was the last piece of helpful guidance they were to receive during their stay at Arwen San Conflegro's home. I wish with all my heart that I could write a sentence like "Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire had somebody to lead them through the impenetrable fog that shrouded so much of their life in the way that Sunny could lead them now," but I am unable to write such a thing.
As they were reaching the door, the fog was starting to thin out - they were on the furthest side of the room from the weather machine - and the outline of the black door was coming into view. The door had a small peep hole, so that a nervous homeowner could peer out and see who was coming. One can immediately see how useful it would be if one was afraid of certain journalists, detectives or waitresses who could arrive at your door at any time. Violet thought about how her aunt Josephine, who had been of very nervous disposition, would have liked to have something like it on her own door. Sunny, however, had noticed something else about the door which their aunt would have appreciated. Aunt Josephine had been afraid that her doorknobs might suddenly shatter into millions of sharp, dangerous pieces, and so she would have been happy to see that the front door of Arwen San Conflegro's home had no doorknob at all. It had no handle of any kind, in fact. The doorbell rang again, and Violet wanted to put her eye close to the peephole, to see if it really was the Quagmires outside, but she wanted to open the door first. Better not to be disappointed, she thought. The three siblings looked at each other and suddenly the mist reminded them more of smoke, and the studio of Arwen San Conflegro, with Count Olaf in the bedroom upstairs, suddenly felt very much like a trap.