Chapter Eleven

``How pleasant that you could join us,'' the hook-handed man said in a sickly sweet voice. Violet immediately tried to scurry back down the rope, but Count Olaf's assistant was too quick for her. In one movement he hoisted her into the tower room and, with a flick of his hook, sent her rescue device clanging to the ground. Now Violet was as trapped as her sister. ``I'm so glad you're here,'' the hook-handed man said. ``I was just thinking how much I wanted to see your pretty face. Have a seat.''

``What are you going to do with me?'' Violet asked.

``I said have a seat!'' the hook-handed man snarled, and pushed her into a chair.

Violet looked around the dim and messy room. I am certain that over the course of your own life, you have noticed that people's rooms reflect their personalities. In my room, for instance, I have gathered a collection of objects that are important to me, including a dusty accordion on which I can play a few sad songs, a large bundle of notes on the activities of the Baudelaire orphans, and a blurry photograph, taken a very long time ago, of a woman whose name is Beatrice. These are items that are very precious and dear to me. The tower room held objects that were very dear and precious to Count Olaf, and they were terrible things. There were scraps of paper on which he had written his evil ideas in an illegible scrawl, lying in messy piles on top of the copy of Nuptial Law he had taken away from Klaus. There were a few chairs and a handful of candles which were giving off flickering shadows. Littered all over the floor were empty wine bottles and dirty dishes. But most of all were the drawings and paintings and carvings of eyes, big and small, all over the room. There were eyes painted on the ceilings, and scratched into the grimy wooden floors. There were eyes scrawled along the windowsill, and one big eye painted on the knob of the door that led to the stairs. It was a terrible place.

The hook-handed man reached into a pocket of his greasy overcoat and pulled out a walkie-talkie. With some difficulty, he pressed a button and waited a moment. ``Boss, it's me,'' he said. ``Your blushing bride just climbed up here to try and rescue the biting brat.'' He paused as Count Olaf said something. ``I don't know. With some sort of rope.''

``It was a grappling hook,'' Violet said, and tore off a sleeve of her nightgown to make a bandage for her shoulder. ``I made it myself.''

``She says it was a grappling hook,'' the hook-handed man said into the walkie-talkie. ``I don't know, boss. Yes, boss. Yes, boss, of course I understand she's yours. Yes, boss.'' He pressed a button to disconnect the line, and then turned to face Violet. ``Count Olaf is very displeased with his bride.''

``I'm not his bride,'' Violet said bitterly.

``Very soon you will be,'' the hook-handed man said, wagging his hook the way most people would wag a finger. ``In the meantime, however, I have to go and fetch your brother. The three of you will be locked in this room until night falls. That way, Count Olaf can be sure you will all stay out of mischief.'' With that, the hook-handed man stomped out of the room. Violet heard the door lock behind him, and then listened to his footsteps fading away down the stairs. She immediately went over to Sunny, and put a hand on her little head. Afraid to untie or untape her sister for fear of incurring—a word which here means ``bringing about''—Count Olaf's wrath, Violet stroked Sunny's hair and murmured that everything was all right.

But of course, everything was not all right. Everything was all wrong. As the first light of morning trickled into the tower room, Violet reflected on all the awful things she and her siblings had experienced recently. Their parents had died, suddenly and horribly. Mrs. Poe had bought them ugly clothing. They had moved into Count Olaf's house and were treated terribly. Mr. Poe had refused to help them. They had discovered a fiendish plot involving marrying Violet and stealing the Baudelaire fortune. Klaus had tried to confront Olaf with knowledge he'd learned in Justice Strauss's library and failed. Poor Sunny had been captured. And now, Violet had tried to rescue Sunny and found herself captured as well. All in all, the Baudelaire orphans had encountered catastrophe after catastrophe, and Violet found their situation lamentably deplorable, a phrase which here means ``it was not at all enjoyable.'' The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs brought Violet out of her thoughts, and soon the hook-handed man opened the door and thrust a very tired, confused, and scared Klaus into the room.

``Here's the last orphan,'' the hook-handed man said. ``And now, I must go help Count Olaf with final preparations for tonight's performance. No monkey business, you two, or I will have to tie you up and let you dangle out of the window as well.'' Glaring at them, he locked the door again and tromped downstairs.

Klaus blinked and looked around the filthy room. He was still in his pajamas. ``What has happened?'' he asked Violet. ``Why are we up here?''

``I tried to rescue Sunny,'' Violet said, ``using an invention of mine to climb up the tower.''

Klaus went over to the window and looked down at the ground. ``It's so high up,'' he said. ``You must have been terrified.''

``It was very scary,'' she admitted, ``but not as scary as the thought of marrying Count Olaf.''

``I'm sorry your invention didn't work,'' Klaus said sadly.

``The invention worked fine,'' Violet said, rubbing her sore shoulder. ``I just got caught. And now we're doomed. The hook-handed man said he'd keep us here until tonight, and then it's The Marvelous Marriage.''

``Do you think you could invent something that would help us escape?'' Klaus asked, looking around the room.

``Maybe,'' Violet said. ``And why don't you go through those books and papers? Perhaps there's some information that could be of use.''

For the next few hours, Violet and Klaus searched the room and their own minds for anything that might help them. Violet looked for objects with which she could invent something. Klaus read through Count Olaf's papers and books. From time to time, they would go over to Sunny and smile at her, and pat her head, to reassure her. Occasionally, Violet and Klaus would speak to each other, but mostly they were silent, lost in their own thoughts.

``If we had any kerosene,'' Violet said, around noon, ``I could make Molotov cocktails with these bottles.''

``What are Molotov cocktails?'' Klaus asked.

``They're small bombs made inside bottles,'' Violet explained. ``We could throw them out the window and attract the attention of passersby.''

``But we don't have any kerosene,'' Klaus said mournfully.

They were silent for several hours.

``If we were polygamists,'' Klaus said, ``Count Olaf's marriage plan wouldn't work.''

``What are polygamists?'' Violet asked.

``Polygamists are people who marry more than one person,'' Klaus explained. ``In this community, polygamists are breaking the law, even if they have married in the presence of a judge, with the statement of ``I do'' and the signed document in their own hand. I read it here in Nuptial Law.''

``But we're not polygamists,'' Violet said mournfully.

They were silent for several more hours.

``We could break these bottles in half,'' Violet said, ``and use them as knives, but I'm afraid that Count Olaf's troupe would overpower us.''

``You could say ``I don't'' instead of ``I do,'' '' Klaus said, ``but I'm afraid Count Olaf would order Sunny dropped off the tower.''

``I certainly would,'' Count Olaf said, and the children jumped. They had been so involved in their conversation that they hadn't heard him come up the stairs and open the door. He was wearing a fancy suit and his eyebrow had been waxed so it looked as shiny as his eyes. Behind him stood the hook-handed man, who smiled and waved a hook at the youngsters. ``Come, orphans,'' Count Olaf said. ``It is time for the big event. My associate here will stay behind in this room, and we will keep in constant contact through our walkie-talkies. If anything goes wrong during tonight's performance, your sister will be dropped to her death. Come along now.''

Violet and Klaus looked at each other, and then at Sunny, still dangling in her cage, and followed Count Olaf out the door. As Klaus walked down the tower stairs, he felt a heavy sinking in his heart as all hope left him. There truly seemed to be no way out of their predicament. Violet was feeling the same way, until she reached out with her right hand to grasp the banister, for balance. She looked at her right hand for a second, and began to think. All the way down the stairs, and out the door, and the short walk down the block to the theater, Violet thought and thought and thought, harder than she had in her entire life.

Chapter Twelve

As Violet and Klaus Baudelaire stood, still in their nightgown and pajamas, backstage at Count Olaf's theater, they were of two minds, a phrase which here means ``they felt two different ways at the same time.'' On one hand, they were of course filled with dread. From the murmur of voices they heard on the stage, the two Baudelaire orphans could tell that the performance of The Marvelous Marriage had begun, and it seemed too late to do anything to foil Count Olaf's plan. On the other hand, however, they were fascinated, as they had never been backstage at a theatrical production and there was so much to see. Members of Count Olaf's theater troupe hurried this way and that, too busy to even glance at the children. Three very short men were carrying a large flat piece of wood, painted to look like a living room. The two white-faced women were arranging flowers in a vase that from far away appeared to be marble, but close up looked more like cardboard. An important-looking man with warts all over his face was adjusting enormous light fixtures. As the children peeked onstage, they could see Count Olaf, in his fancy suit, declaiming some lines from the play, just as the curtain came down, controlled by a woman with very short hair who was pulling on a long rope, attached to a pulley. Despite their fear, you see, the two older Baudelaires were very interested in what was going on, and only wished that they were not involved in any way.

As the curtain fell, Count Olaf strode offstage and looked at the children. ``It's the end of Act Two! Why aren't the orphans in their costumes?'' he hissed to the two white-faced women. Then, as the audience broke into applause, his angry expression turned to one of joy, and he walked back onstage. Gesturing to the short-haired woman to raise the curtain he strode to the exact center of the stage and took elaborate bows as the curtain came up. He waved and blew kisses to the audience as the curtain came down again, and then his face once again filled with anger. ``Intermission is only ten minutes,'' he said, ``and then the children must perform. Get them into costumes, quickly!''

Without a word the two white-faced women grabbed Violet and Klaus by the wrists and led them into a dressing room. The room was dusty but shiny, covered in mirrors and tiny lights so the actors could see better to put on their makeup and wigs, and there were people calling out to one another and laughing as they changed their clothes. One white-faced woman yanked Violet's arms up and pulled her nightgown off over her head, and thrust a dirty, lacy white dress at her to put on. Klaus, meanwhile, had his pajamas removed by the other white-faced woman, and was hurriedly stuffed into a blue sailor suit that itched and made him look like a toddler.

``Isn't this exciting?'' said a voice, and the children turned to see Justice Strauss, all dressed up in her judge's robes and powdered wig. She was clutching a small book. ``You children look wonderful!''

``So do you,'' Klaus said. ``What's that book?''

``Why, those are my lines,'' Justice Strauss said. ``Count Olaf told me to bring a law book and read the real wedding ceremony, in order to make the play as realistic as possible. All you have to say, Violet, is ``I do,'' but I have to make quite a speech. This is going to be such fun.''

``You know what would be fun,'' Violet said carefully, ``is if you changed your lines around, just a little.''

Klaus's face lit up. ``Yes, Justice Strauss. Be creative. There's no reason to stick to the legal ceremony. It's not as if it's a real wedding.''

Justice Strauss frowned. ``I don't know about that, children,'' she said. ``I think it would be best to follow Count Olaf's instructions. After all, he's in charge.''

``Justice Strauss!'' a voice called. ``Justice Strauss! Please report to the makeup artist!''

``Oh my word! I get to wear makeup.'' Justice Strauss had on a dreamy expression, as if she were about to be crowned queen, instead of just having some powders and creams smeared on her face. ``Children, I must go. See you onstage, my dears!''

Justice Strauss ran off, leaving the children to finish changing into their costumes. One of the white-faced women put a flowered headdress on Violet, who realized in horror that the dress she had changed into was a bridal gown. The other woman put a sailor cap on Klaus, who gazed in one of the mirrors, astonished at how ugly he looked. His eyes met those of Violet, who was looking in the mirror as well.

``What can we do?'' Klaus said quietly. ``Pretend to be sick? Maybe they'd call off the performance.''

``Count Olaf would know what we were up to,'' Violet replied glumly.

``Act Three of The Marvelous Marriage by Al Funcoot is about to begin!'' a man with a clipboard shouted. ``Everyone, please, get in your places for Act Three!''

The actors rushed out of the room, and the white-faced women grabbed the children and hustled them out after them. The backstage area was in complete pandemonium—a word which here means ``actors and stagehands running around attending to last-minute details.'' The bald man with the long nose hurried by the children, then stopped himself, looked at Violet in her wedding dress, and smirked.

``No funny stuff,'' he said to them, waggling a bony finger. ``Remember, when you go out there, just do exactly what you're supposed to do. Count Olaf will be holding his walkie-talkie during the entire act, and if you do even one thing wrong, he'll be giving Sunny a call up there in the tower.''

``Yes, yes,'' Klaus said bitterly. He was tired of being threatened in the same way, over and over.

``You'd better do exactly as planned,'' the man said again.

``I'm sure they will,'' said a voice suddenly, and the children turned to see Mr. Poe, dressed very formally and accompanied by his wife. He smiled at the children and came over to shake their hands. ``Polly and I just wanted to tell you to break a leg.''

``What?'' Klaus said, alarmed.

``That's a theater term,'' Mr. Poe explained, ``meaning ``good luck on tonight's performance.'' I'm glad that you children have adjusted to life with your new father and are participating in family activities.''

``Mr. Poe,'' Klaus said quickly, ``Violet and I have something to tell you. It's very important.''

``What is it?'' Mr. Poe said.

``Yes,'' said Count Olaf, ``what is it you have to tell Mr. Poe, children?''

Count Olaf had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and his shiny eyes glared at the children meaningfully. In one hand, Violet and Klaus could see, he held a walkie-talkie.

``Just that we appreciate all you've done for us, Mr. Poe,'' Klaus said weakly. ``That's all we wanted to say.''

``Of course, of course,'' Mr. Poe said, patting him on the back. ``Well, Polly and I had better take our seats. Break a leg, Baudelaires!''

``I wish we could break a leg,'' Klaus whispered to Violet, and Mr. Poe left.

``You will, soon enough,'' Count Olaf said, pushing the two children toward the stage. Other actors were milling about, finding their places for Act Three, and Justice Strauss was off in a corner, practicing her lines from her law book. Klaus took a look around the stage, wondering if anyone there could help. The bald man with the long nose took Klaus's hand and led him to one side.

``You and I will stand here for the duration of the act. That means the whole thing.''

``I know what the word ``duration'' means,'' Klaus said.

``No nonsense,'' the bald man said. Klaus watched his sister in her wedding gown take her place next to Count Olaf as the curtain rose. Klaus heard applause from the audience as Act Three of The Marvelous Marriage began.

It will be of no interest to you if I describe the action of this insipid—the word ``insipid'' here means ``dull and foolish''—play by Al Funcoot, because it was a dreadful play and of no real importance to our story. Various actors and actresses performed very dull dialogue and moved around the set, as Klaus tried to make eye contact with them and see if they would help. He soon realized that this play must have been chosen merely as an excuse for Olaf's evil plan, and not for its entertainment value, as he sensed the audience losing interest and moving around in their seats. Klaus turned his attention to the audience to see whether any of them would notice that something was afoot, but the way the wart-faced man had arranged the lights prevented Klaus from seeing the faces in the auditorium, and he could only make out the dim outlines of the people in the audience. Count Olaf had a great number of very long speeches, which he performed with elaborate gestures and facial expressions. No one seemed to notice that he held a walkie-talkie the entire time.

Finally, Justice Strauss began speaking, and Klaus saw that she was reading directly from the legal book. Her eyes were sparkling and her face flushed as she performed onstage for the first time, too stagestruck to realize she was a part of Olaf's plan. She spoke on and on about Olaf and Violet caring for each other in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, and all of those things that are said to many people who decide, for one reason or another, to get married.

When she finished her speech, Justice Strauss turned to Count Olaf and asked, ``Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?''

``I do,'' Count Olaf said, smiling. Klaus saw Violet shudder.

``Do you,'' Justice Strauss said, turning to Violet, ``take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?''

``I do,'' Violet said. Klaus clenched his fists. His sister had said ``I do'' in the presence of a judge. Once she signed the official document, the wedding was legally valid. And now, Klaus could see that Justice Strauss was taking the document from one of the other actors and holding it out to Violet to sign.

``Don't move an inch,'' the bald man muttered to Klaus, and Klaus thought of poor Sunny, dangling at the top of the tower, and stood still as he watched Violet take a long quill pen from Count Olaf. Violet's eyes were wide as she looked down at the document, and her face was pale, and her left hand was trembling as she signed her name.

Chapter Thirteen

``And now, ladies and gentlemen,'' Count Olaf said, stepping forward to address the audience, ``I have an announcement. There is no reason to continue tonight's performance, for its purpose has been served. This has not been a scene of fiction. My marriage to Violet Baudelaire is perfectly legal, and now I am in control of her entire fortune.''

There were gasps from the audience, and some of the actors looked at one another in shock. Not everyone, apparently, had known about Olaf's plan. ``That can't be!'' Justice Strauss cried.

``The marriage laws in this community are quite simple,'' Count Olaf said. ``The bride must say ``I do'' in the presence of a judge like yourself, and sign an explanatory document. And all of you''—here Count Olaf gestured out to the audience—``are witnesses.''

``But Violet is only a child!'' one of the actors said. ``She's not old enough to marry.''

``She is if her legal guardian agrees,'' Count Olaf said, ``and in addition to being her husband, I am her legal guardian.''

``But that piece of paper is not an official document!'' Justice Strauss said. ``That's just a stage prop!''

Count Olaf took the paper from Violet's hand and gave it to Justice Strauss. ``I think if you look at it closely you will see it is an official document from City Hall.''

Justice Strauss took the document in her hand and read it quickly. Then, closing her eyes, she sighed deeply and furrowed her brow, thinking hard. Klaus watched her and wondered if this were the expression Justice Strauss had on her face whenever she was serving on the High Court. ``You're right,'' she said finally, to Count Olaf, ``this marriage, unfortunately, is completely legal. Violet said ``I do,'' and signed her name here on this paper. Count Olaf, you are Violet's husband, and therefore in complete control of her estate.''

``That can't be!'' said a voice from the audience, and Klaus recognized it as the voice of Mr. Poe. He ran up the stairs to the stage and took the document from Justice Strauss. ``This is dreadful nonsense.''

``I'm afraid this dreadful nonsense is the law,'' Justice Strauss said. Her eyes were filling up with tears. ``I can't believe how easily I was tricked,'' she said. ``I would never do anything to harm you children. Never.''

``You were easily tricked,'' Count Olaf said, grinning, and the judge began to cry. ``It was child's play, winning this fortune. Now, if all of you will excuse me, my bride and I need to go home for our wedding night.''

``First let Sunny go!'' Klaus burst out. ``You promised to let her go!''

``Where is Sunny?'' Mr. Poe asked.

``She's all tied up at the moment,'' Count Olaf said, ``if you will pardon a little joke.'' His eyes shone as he pressed buttons on the walkie-talkie, and waited while the hook-handed man answered. ``Hello? Yes, of course it's me, you idiot. Everything has gone according to plan. Please remove Sunny from her cage and bring her directly to the theater. Klaus and Sunny have some chores to do before they go to bed.'' Count Olaf gave Klaus a sharp look. ``Are you satisfied now?'' he asked.

``Yes,'' Klaus said quietly. He wasn't satisfied at all, of course, but at least his baby sister was no longer dangling from a tower.

``Don't think you're so safe,'' the bald man whispered to Klaus. ``Count Olaf will take care of you and your sisters later. He doesn't want to do it in front of all these people.'' He did not have to explain to Klaus what he meant by the phrase ``take care of.''

``Well, I'm not satisfied at all,'' Mr. Poe said. ``This is absolutely horrendous. This is completely monstrous. This is financially dreadful.''

``I'm afraid, however,'' Count Olaf said, ``that it is legally binding. Tomorrow, Mr. Poe, I shall come down to the bank and withdraw the complete Baudelaire fortune.''

Mr. Poe opened his mouth as if to say something, but began to cough instead. For several seconds he coughed into a handkerchief while everyone waited for him to speak. ``I won't allow it,'' Mr. Poe finally gasped, wiping his mouth. ``I absolutely will not allow it.''

``I'm afraid you have to,'' Count Olaf replied.

``I'm—I'm afraid Olaf is right,'' Justice Strauss said, through her tears. ``This marriage is legally binding.''

``Begging your pardon,'' Violet said suddenly, ``but I think you may be wrong.''

Everyone turned to look at the eldest Baudelaire orphan.

``What did you say, Countess?'' Olaf said.

``I'm not your countess,'' Violet said testily, a word which here means ``in an extremely annoyed tone.'' ``At least, I don't think I am.''

``And why is that?'' Count Olaf said.

``I did not sign the document in my own hand, as the law states,'' Violet said.

``What do you mean? We all saw you!'' Count Olaf's eyebrow was beginning to rise in anger.

``I'm afraid your husband is right, dear,'' Justice Strauss said sadly. ``There's no use denying it. There are too many witnesses.''

``Like most people,'' Violet said, ``I am right-handed. But I signed the document with my left hand.''

``What?'' Count Olaf cried. He snatched the paper from Justice Strauss and looked down at it. His eyes were shining very bright. ``You are a liar!'' he hissed at Violet.

``No she's not,'' Klaus said excitedly. ``I remember, because I watched her left hand trembling as she signed her name.''

``It is impossible to prove,'' Count Olaf said.

``If you like,'' Violet said, ``I shall be happy to sign my name again, on a separate sheet of paper, with my right hand and then with my left. Then we can see which signature the one on the document most resembles.''

``A small detail, like which hand you used to sign,'' Count Olaf said, ``doesn't matter in the least.''

``If you don't mind, sir,'' Mr. Poe said, ``I'd like Justice Strauss to make that decision.''

Everyone looked at Justice Strauss, who was wiping away the last of her tears. ``Let me see,'' she said quietly, and closed her eyes again. She sighed deeply, and the Baudelaire orphans, and all who liked them, held their breath as Justice Strauss furrowed her brow, thinking hard on the situation. Finally, she smiled. ``If Violet is indeed right-handed,'' she said carefully, ``and she signed the document with her left hand, then it follows that the signature does not fulfill the requirements of the nuptial laws. The law clearly states the document must be signed in the bride's own hand. Therefore, we can conclude that this marriage is invalid. Violet, you are not a countess, and Count Olaf, you are not in control of the Baudelaire fortune.''

``Hooray!'' cried a voice from the audience, and several people applauded. Unless you are a lawyer, it will probably strike you as odd that Count Olaf's plan was defeated by Violet signing with her left hand instead of her right. But the law is an odd thing. For instance, one country in Europe has a law that requires all its bakers to sell bread at the exact same price. A certain island has a law that forbids anyone from removing its fruit. And a town not too far from where you live has a law that bars me from coming within five miles of its borders. Had Violet signed the marriage contract with her right hand, the law would have made her a miserable countess, but because she signed it with her left, she remained, to her relief, a miserable orphan.

What was good news to Violet and her siblings, of course, was bad news to Count Olaf. Nevertheless, he gave everyone a grim smile. ``In that case,'' he said to Violet, pushing a button on the walkie-talkie, ``you will either marry me again, and correctly this time, or I will—''

``Neepo!'' Sunny's unmistakable voice rang out over Count Olaf's as she tottered onstage toward her siblings. The hook-handed man followed behind her, his walkie-talkie buzzing and crackling. Count Olaf was too late.

``Sunny! You're safe!'' Klaus cried, and embraced her. Violet rushed over and the two older Baudelaires fussed over the youngest one.

``Somebody bring her something to eat,'' Violet said. ``She must be very hungry after hanging in a tower window all that time.''

``Cake!'' Sunny shrieked.

``Argh!'' Count Olaf roared. He began to pace back and forth like an animal in a cage, pausing only to point a finger at Violet. ``You may not be my wife,'' he said, ``but you are still my daughter, and—''

``Do you honestly think,'' Mr. Poe said in an exasperated voice, ``that I will allow you to continue to care for these three children, after the treachery I have seen here tonight?''

``The orphans are mine,'' Count Olaf insisted, ``and with me they shall stay. There is nothing illegal about trying to marry someone.''

``But there is something illegal about dangling an infant out of a tower window,'' Justice Strauss said indignantly. ``You, Count Olaf, will go to jail, and the three children will live with me.''

``Arrest him!'' a voice said from the audience, and other people took up the cry.

``Send him to jail!''

``He's an evil man!''

``And give us our money back! It was a lousy play!''

Mr. Poe took Count Olaf's arm and, after a brief eruption of coughs, announced in a harsh voice, ``I hereby arrest you in the name of the law.''

``Oh, Justice Strauss!'' Violet said. ``Did you really mean what you said? Can we really live with you?''

``Of course I mean it,'' Justice Strauss said. ``I am very fond of you children, and I feel responsible for your welfare.''

``Can we use your library every day?'' Klaus asked.

``Can we work in the garden?'' Violet asked.

``Cake!'' Sunny shrieked again, and everyone laughed.

At this point in the story, I feel obliged to interrupt and give you one last warning. As I said at the very beginning, the book you are holding in your hands does not have a happy ending. It may appear now that Count Olaf will go to jail and that the three Baudelaire youngsters will live happily ever after with Justice Strauss, but it is not so. If you like, you may shut the book this instant and not read the unhappy ending that is to follow. You may spend the rest of your life believing that the Baudelaires triumphed over Count Olaf and lived the rest of their lives in the house and library of Justice Strauss, but that is not how the story goes. For as everyone was laughing at Sunny's cry for cake, the important-looking man with all the warts on his face was sneaking toward the controls for the lighting of the theater.

Quick as a wink, the man flicked the main switch so that all the lights went off and everyone was standing in darkness. Instantly, pandemonium ensued as everyone ran this way and that, shouting at one another. Actors tripped over members of the audience. Members of the audience tripped over theatrical props. Mr. Poe grabbed his wife, thinking it was Count Olaf. Klaus grabbed Sunny and held her up as high as he could, so she wouldn't get hurt. But Violet knew at once what had happened, and made her way carefully to where she remembered the lights had been. When the play was being performed, Violet had watched the light controls carefully, taking mental notes in case these devices came in handy for an invention. She was certain if she could find the switch she could turn it back on. Her arms stretched in front of her as if she were blind, Violet made her way across the stage, stepping carefully around pieces of furniture and startled actors. In the darkness, Violet looked like a ghost, her white wedding gown moving slowly across the stage. Then, just as she had reached the switch, Violet felt a hand on her shoulder. A figure leaned in to whisper into her ear.

``I'll get my hands on your fortune if it's the last thing I do,'' the voice hissed. ``And when I have it, I'll kill you and your siblings with my own two hands.''

Violet gave a little cry of terror, but flicked the switch on. The entire theater was flooded with light. Everyone blinked and looked around. Mr. Poe let go of his wife. Klaus put Sunny down. But nobody was touching Violet's shoulder. Count Olaf was gone.

``Where did he go?'' Mr. Poe shouted. ``Where did they all go?''

The Baudelaire youngsters looked around and saw that not only had Count Olaf vanished, but his accomplices—the wart-faced man, the hook-handed man, the bald man with the long nose, the enormous person who looked like neither a man nor a woman, and the two white-faced women—had vanished along with him.

``They must have run outside,'' Klaus said, ``while it was still dark.''

Mr. Poe led the way outside, and Justice Strauss and the children followed. Way, way down the block, they could see a long black car driving away into the night. Maybe it contained Count Olaf and his associates. Maybe it didn't. But in any case, it turned a corner and disappeared into the dark city as the children watched without a word.

``Blast it,'' Mr. Poe said. ``They're gone. But don't worry, children, we'll catch them. I'm going to go call the police immediately.''

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny looked at one another and knew that it wasn't as simple as Mr. Poe said. Count Olaf would take care to stay out of sight as he planned his next move. He was far too clever to be captured by the likes of Mr. Poe.

``Well, let's go home, children,'' Justice Strauss said. ``We can worry about this in the morning, when I've fixed you a good breakfast.''

Mr. Poe coughed. ``Wait a minute,'' he said, looking down at the floor. ``I'm sorry to tell you this, children, but I cannot allow you to be raised by someone who is not a relative.''

``What?'' Violet cried. ``After all Justice Strauss has done for us?''

``We never would have figured out Count Olaf's plan without her and her library,'' Klaus said. ``Without Justice Strauss, we would have lost our lives.''

``That may be so,'' Mr. Poe said, ``and I thank Justice Strauss for her generosity, but your parents' will is very specific. You must be adopted by a relative. Tonight you will stay with me in my home, and tomorrow I shall go to the bank and figure out what to do with you. I'm sorry, but that is the way it is.''

The children looked at Justice Strauss, who sighed heavily and hugged each of the Baudelaire youngsters in turn. ``Mr. Poe is right,'' she said sadly. ``He must respect your parents' wishes. Don't you want to do what your parents wanted, children?''

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny pictured their loving parents, and wished more than ever that the fire had not occurred. Never, never had they felt so alone. They wanted very badly to live with this kind and generous woman, but they knew that it simply could not be done. ``I guess you're right, Justice Strauss,'' Violet said finally. ``We will miss you very much.''

``I will miss you, too,'' she said, and her eyes filled with tears once more. Then they each gave Justice Strauss one last embrace, and followed Mr. and Mrs. Poe to their car. The Baudelaire orphans piled into the backseat, and peered out the back window at Justice Strauss, who was crying and waving to them. Ahead of them were the darkened streets, where Count Olaf had escaped to plan more treachery. Behind them was the kind judge, who had taken such an interest in the three children. To Violet, Klaus, and Sunny, it seemed that Mr. Poe and the law had made the incorrect decision to take them away from the possibility of a happy life with Justice Strauss and toward an unknown fate with some unknown relative. They didn't understand it, but like so many unfortunate events in life, just because you don't understand it doesn't mean it isn't so. The Baudelaires bunched up together against the cold night air, and kept waving out the back window. The car drove farther and farther away, until Justice Strauss was merely a speck in the darkness, and it seemed to the children that they were moving in an aberrant—the word ``aberrant'' here means ``very, very wrong, and causing much grief''—direction.

Lemony Snicket was born in a small town where the inhabitants were suspicious and prone to riot. He now lives in the city. During his spare time he gathers Evidence and is considered something of an expert by leading authorities. These are his first books for Harper Collins.

To My Kind Editor;

I am writing to you from the London branch of the Herpetological Society, where I am trying to find out what happened to the reptile collection of Dr. Montgomery Montgomery following the tragic events that occurred while the Baudelaire orphans were in his care.

An associate of mine will place a small waterproof box in the phone booth of the Elektra Hotel at 11 P.M. next Tuesday. Please retrieve it before Midnight to avoid it falling into the wrong hands. In the box you will find my description of these terrible events, entitled The Reptile Room, as well as a map of Lousy Lane, a copy of the film Zombies in the Snow., and Dr. Montgomery's recipe for coconut cream cake. I have also managed to track down one of the few photographs of Dr. Lucafont, In order to help Mr. Helquist with his illustrations.

Remember, you are my last hope that the tales of the Baudelaire orphans can finally be told to the general public.

With all due respect,

Lemony Snicket

For Beatrice-
My love for you shall live forever.
You, however, did not.



Chapter One

The stretch of road that leads out of the city, past Hazy Harbor and into the town of Tedia, is perhaps the most unpleasant in the world. It is called Lousy Lane. Lousy Lane runs through fields that are a sickly gray color, in which a handful of scraggly trees produce apples so sour that one only has to look at them to feel ill. Lousy Lane traverses the Grim River, a body of water that is nine-tenths mud and that contains extremely unnerving fish, and it encircles a horseradish factory, so the entire area smells bitter and strong.
I am sorry to tell you that this story begins with the Baudelaire orphans traveling along this most displeasing road, and that from this moment on, the story only gets worse. Of all the people in the world who have miserable lives - and, as I'm sure you know, there are quite a few - the Baudelaire youngsters take the cake, a phrase which here means that more horrible things have happened to them than just about anybody. Their misfortune began with an enormous fire that destroyed their home and killed both their loving parents, which is enough sadness to last anyone a lifetime, but in the case of these three children it was only the bad beginning. After the fire, the siblings were sent to live with a distant relative named Count Olaf, a terrible and greedy man. The Baudelaire parents had left behind an enormous fortune, which would go to the children when Violet came of age, and Count Olaf was so obsessed with getting his filthy hands on the money that he hatched a devious plan that gives me nightmares to this day. He was caught just in time, but he escaped and vowed to get ahold of the Baudelaire fortune sometime in the future. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny still had nightmares about Count Olaf's shiny, shiny eyes, and about his one scraggly eyebrow, and most of all about the tattoo of an eye he had on his ankle. It seemed like that eye was watching the Baudelaire orphans wherever they went.
So I must tell you that if you have opened this book in the hope of finding out that the children lived happily ever after, you might as well shut it and read something else. Because Violet, Klaus, and Sunny, sitting in a small, cramped car and staring out the windows at Lousy Lane, were heading toward even more misery and woe. The Grim River and the horseradish factory were only the first of a sequence of tragic and unpleasant episodes that bring a frown to my face and a tear to my eye whenever I think about them.
The driver of the car was Mr. Poe, a family friend who worked at a bank and always had a cough. He was in charge of overseeing the orphans' affairs, so it was he who decided that the children would be placed in the care of a distant relative in the country after all the unpleasantness with Count Olaf.
"I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable," Mr. Poe said, coughing into a white handkerchief, "but this new car of mine doesn't fit too many people. We couldn't even fit any of your suitcases. In a week or so I'll drive back here and bring them to you."
"Thank you," said Violet, who at fourteen was the oldest of the Baudelaire children. Anyone who knew Violet well could see that her mind was not really on what Mr. Poe was saying, because her long hair was tied up in a ribbon to keep it out of her eyes. Violet was an inventor, and when she was thinking up inventions she liked to tie her hair up this way. It helped her think clearly about the various gears, wires, and ropes involved in most of her creations.
"After living so long in the city," Mr. Poe continued, "I think you will find the countryside to be a pleasant change. Oh, here is the turn. We're almost there."
"Good," Klaus said quietly. Klaus, like many people on car rides, was very bored, and he was sad not to have a book with him. Klaus loved to read, and at approximately twelve years of age had read more books than many people read in their whole lives. Sometimes he read well into the night, and in the morning could be found fast asleep, with a book in his hand and his glasses still on.
"I think you'll like Dr. Montgomery, too," Mr. Poe said. "He has traveled a great deal, so he has plenty of stories to tell. I've heard his house is filled with things he's brought from all the places he's been."
"Bax!" Sunny shrieked. Sunny, the youngest of the Baudelaire orphans, often talked like this, as infants tend to do. In fact, besides biting things with her four very sharp teeth, speaking in fragments was how Sunny spent most of her time. It was often difficult to tell what she meant to say. At this moment she probably meant something along the lines of "I'm nervous about meeting a new relative." All three children were.
"How exactly is Dr. Montgomery related to us?" Klaus asked.
"Dr. Montgomery is-let me see-your late father's cousin's wife's brother. I think that's right. He's a scientist of some sort, and receives a great deal of money from the government." As a banker, Mr. Poe was always interested in money.
"What should we call him?" Klaus asked.
"You should call him Dr. Montgomery," Mr. Poe replied, "unless he tells you to call him Montgomery. Both his first and last names are Montgomery, so it doesn't really make much difference."
"His name is Montgomery Montgomery?" Klaus said, smiling.
"Yes, and I'm sure he's very sensitive about that, so don't ridicule him," Mr. Poe said, cough-
ing again into his handkerchief. "'Ridicule' means 'tease.'"
Klaus sighed. "I know what 'ridicule' means," he said. He did not add that of course he also knew not to make fun of someone's name. Occasionally, people thought that because the orphans were unforunate, they were also dim-witted.
Violet sighed too, and took the ribbon out of her hair. She had been trying to think up an invention that would block the smell of horseradish from reaching one's nose, but she was too nervous about meeting Dr. Montgomery to focus on it. "Do you know what sort of scientist he is?" she asked. She was thinking Dr. Montgomery might have a laboratory that would be of use to her.
"I'm afraid not," Mr. Poe admitted. "I've been very busy making the arrangements for you three, and I didn't have much time for chitchat. Oh, here's the driveway. We've arrived."
Mr. Poe pulled the car up a steep gravel driveway and toward an enormous stone house. The house had a square front door made of dark wood, with several columns marking the front porch. To each side of the door were lights in the shapes of torches, which were brightly lit even though it was morning. Above the front door, the house had rows and rows of square windows, most of which were open to let in the breeze. But in front of the house was what was truly unusual: a vast, well-kept lawn, dotted with long, thin shrubs in remarkable shapes. As Mr. Poe's car came to a halt, the Baudelaires could see that the shrubs had been trimmed so as to look like snakes. Each hedge was a different kind of serpent, some long, some short, some with their tongues out and some with their mouths open, showing green, fearsome teeth. They were quite eerie, and Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were a bit hesitant about walking beside them on their way up to the house.
Mr. Poe, who led the way, didn't seem to notice the hedges at all, possibly because he was busy coaching the children on how to behave.
"Now, Klaus, don't ask too many questions right away. Violet, what happened to the ribbon in your hair? I thought you looked very distinguished in it. And somebody please make sure Sunny doesn't bite Dr. Montgomery. That wouldn't be a good first impression."
Mr. Poe stepped up to the door and rang a doorbell that was one of the loudest the children had ever heard. After a moment's pause, they could hear approaching footsteps, and Violet, Klaus, and Sunny all looked at one another. They had no way of knowing, of course, that very soon there would be more misfortune within their unlucky family, but they nevertheless felt uneasy. Would Dr. Montgomery be a kind person? they wondered. Would he at least be better than Count Olaf? Could he possibly be worse?
The door creaked open slowly, and the Baudelaire orphans held their breath as they peered into the dark entryway. They saw a dark burgundy carpet that lay on the floor. They saw a stained-glass light fixture that dangled from the ceiling. They saw a large oil painting of two snakes entwined together that hung on the wall. But where was Dr. Montgomery?
"Hello?" Mr. Poe called out. "Hello?" "Hello hello hello!" a loud voice boomed out, and from behind the door stepped a short, chubby man with a round red face. "I am your Uncle Monty, and this is really perfect timing! I just finished making a coconut cream cake!"

Chapter Two

"Doesn't Sunny like coconut?" Uncle Monty asked. He, Mr. Poe, and the Baudelaire orphans were all sitting around a bright green table, each with a slice of Uncle Monty's cake. Both the kitchen and the cake were still warm from baking. The cake was a magnificent thing, rich and creamy with the perfect amount of coconut. Violet, Klaus, and Uncle Monty were almost finished with their pieces, but Mr. Poe and Sunny had taken only one small bite each.
"To tell you the truth," Violet said, "Sunny doesn't really like anything soft to eat. She prefers very hard food."
"How unusual for a baby," Uncle Monty said, "but not at all unusual for many snakes. The Barbary Chewer, for example, is a snake that must have something in its mouth at all times, otherwise it begins to eat its own mouth. Very difficult to keep in captivity. Would Sunny perhaps like a raw carrot? That's plenty hard."
"A raw carrot would be perfect, Dr. Montgomery," Klaus replied.
The children's new legal guardian got up and walked toward the refrigerator, but then turned around and wagged a finger at Klaus. "None of that 'Dr. Montgomery' stuff," he said. "That's way too stuffy for me. Call me Uncle Monty! Why, my fellow herpetologists don't even call me Dr. Montgomery."
"What are herpetologists?" Violet asked. "What do they call you?" Klaus asked.
"Children, children," Mr. Poe said sternly. "Not so many questions."
Uncle Monty smiled at the orphans. "That's quite all right," he said. "Questions show an inquisitive mind. The word 'inquisitive' means-"
"We know what it means," Klaus said. "'Full of questions.'"
"Well, if you know what that means," Uncle Monty said, handing a large carrot to Sunny, "then you should know what herpetology is."
"It's the study of something," Klaus said. "Whenever a word has ology, it's the study of something."
"Snakes!" Uncle Monty cried. "Snakes, snakes, snakes! That's what I study! I love snakes, all kinds, and I circle the globe looking for different kinds to study here in my laboratory! Isn't that interesting?"
"That is interesting," Violet said, "very interesting. But isn't it dangerous?"
"Not if you know the facts," Uncle Monty said. "Mr. Poe, would you like a raw carrot as well? You've scarcely touched your cake."
Mr. Poe turned red, and coughed into his handkerchief for quite some time before replying, "No, thank you, Dr. Montgomery."
Uncle Monty winked at the children. "If you like, you may call me Uncle Monty as well, Mr. Poe."
"Thank you, Uncle Monty," Mr. Poe said stiffly. "Now, / have a question, if you don't mind. You mentioned that you circle the globe. Is there someone who will come and take care of the children while you are out collecting specimens?"
"We're old enough to stay by ourselves," Violet said quickly, but inside she was not so sure. Uncle Monty's line of work did sound interesting, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to stay alone with her siblings, in a house full of snakes.
"I wouldn't hear of it," Uncle Monty said. "You three must come with me. In ten days we leave for Peru, and I want you children right there in the jungle with me."
"Really?" Klaus said. Behind his glasses, his eyes were shining with excitement. "You'd really take us to Peru with you?"
"I will be glad to have your help," Uncle Monty said, reaching over to take a bite of Sunny's piece of cake. "Gustav, my top assistant, left an unexpected letter of resignation for me just yesterday. There's a man named Stephano whom I have hired to take his place, but he won't arrive for a week or so, so I am way behind on preparations for the expedition. Somebody has to make sure all the snake traps are working, so I don't hurt any of our specimens. Somebody has to read up on the terrain of Peru so we can navigate through the jungle without any trouble. And somebody has to slice an enormous length of rope into small, workable pieces."
"I'm interested in mechanics," Violet said, licking her fork, "so I would be happy to learn about snake traps."
"I find guidebooks fascinating," Klaus said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, "so I would love to read up on Peruvian terrain."
"Eojip!" Sunny shrieked, taking a bite of carrot. She probably meant something along the lines of "I would be thrilled to bite an enormous length of rope into small, workable pieces!"
"Wonderful!" Uncle Monty cried. "I'm glad you have such enthusiasm. It will make it easier to do without Gustav. It was very strange, his leaving like that. I was unlucky to lose him." Uncle Monty's face clouded over, a phrase which here means "took on a slightly gloomy look as Uncle Monty thought about his bad luck," although if Uncle Monty had known what bad luck was soon to come, he wouldn't have wasted a moment thinking about Gustav. I wish-and I'm sure you wish as well-that we could go back in time and warn him, but we can't, and that is that. Uncle Monty seemed to think that was that as well, as he shook his head and smiled, clearing his brain of troubling thoughts.
"Well, we'd better get started. No time like the present, I always say. Why don't you show Mr. Poe to his car, and then I'll show you to the Reptile Room."
The three Baudelaire children, who had been so anxious when they had walked through the snake-shaped hedges the first time, raced confidently through them now as they escorted Mr. Poe to his automobile.
"Now, children," Mr. Poe said, coughing into his handkerchief, "I will be back here in about a week with your luggage and to make sure everything is all right. I know that Dr. Montgomery might seem a bit intimidating to you, but I'm sure in time you will get used to-"
"He doesn't seem intimidating at all," Klaus interrupted. "He seems very easy to get along with."
"I can't wait to see the Reptile Room," Violet said excitedly.
"Meeka!" Sunny said, which probably meant "Good-bye, Mr. Poe. Thank you for driving us."
"Well, good-bye," Mr. Poe said. "Remember, it is just a short drive here from the city, so please contact me or anyone else at Mulctuary Money Management if you have any trouble. See you soon." He gave the orphans an awkward little wave with his handkerchief, got into his small car, and drove back down the steep gravel driveway onto Lousy Lane. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny waved back, hoping that Mr. Poe would remember to roll up the car windows so the stench of horseradish would not be too unbearable.
"Bambini!" Uncle Monty cried out from the front door. "Come along, bambini!"
The Baudelaire orphans raced back through the hedges to where their new guardian was waiting for them. "Violet, Uncle Monty," Violet said. "My name is Violet, my brother's is Klaus, and Sunny is our baby sister. None of us is named Bambini."
"'Bambini' is the Italian word for 'children,'" Uncle Monty explained. "I had a sudden urge
to speak a little Italian. I'm so excited to have you three here with me, you're lucky I'm not speaking gibberish."
"Have you never had any children of your own?" Violet asked.
"I'm afraid not," Uncle Monty said. "I always meant to find a wife and start a family, but it just kept slipping my mind. Shall I show you the Reptile Room?"
"Yes, please," Klaus said.
Uncle Monty led them past the painting of snakes in the entryway into a large room with a grand staircase and very, very high ceilings. "Your rooms will be up there," Uncle Monty said, gesturing up the stairs. "You can each choose whatever room you like and move the furniture around to suit your taste. I understand that Mr. Poe has to bring your luggage later in that puny car of his, so please make a list of anything you might need and we'll go into town tomorrow and buy it so you don't have to spend the next few days in the same underwear."
"Do we really each get our own room?" Violet asked.
"Of course," Uncle Monty said. "You don't think I'd coop you all up in one room when I have this enormous house, do you? What sort of person would do that?"
"Count Olaf did," Klaus said.
"Oh, that's right, Mr. Poe told me," Uncle Monty said, grimacing as if he had just tasted something terrible. "Count Olaf sounds like an awful person. I hope he is torn apart by wild animals someday. Wouldn't that be satisfying? Oh, well, here we are: the Reptile Room."
Uncle Monty had reached a very tall wooden door with a large doorknob right in the middle of it. It was so high up that he had to stand on his tiptoes to open it. When it swung open on its creaky hinges, the Baudelaire orphans all gasped in astonishment and delight at the room they saw.
The Reptile Room was made entirely out of glass, with bright, clear glass walls and a high glass ceiling that rose up to a point like the inside of a cathedral. Outside the walls was a bright green field of grasses and shrubs which was of course perfectly visible through the transparent walls, so standing in the Reptile Room was like being inside and outside at the same time. But as remarkable as the room itself was, what was inside the Reptile Room was much more exciting. Reptiles, of course, were lined up in locked metal cages that sat on wooden tables in four neat rows all the way down the room. There were all sorts of snakes, naturally, but there were also lizards, toads, and assorted other animals that the children had never seen before, not even in pictures, or at the zoo. There was a very fat toad with two wings coming out of its back, and a two-headed lizard that had bright yellow stripes on its belly. There was a snake that had three mouths, one on top of the other, and another that seemed to have no mouth at all. There was a lizard that looked like an owl, with wide eyes that gazed at them from the log on which it was perched in its cage, and a toad that looked just like a church, complete with stained-glass eyes. And there was a cage with a white cloth on top of it, so you couldn't see what was inside at all. The children walked down the aisles of cages, peering into each one in amazed silence. Some of the creatures looked friendly, and some of them looked scary, but all of them looked fascinating, and the Baudelaires took a long, careful look at each one, with Klaus holding Sunny up so she could see.
The orphans were so interested in the cages that they didn't even notice what was at the far end of the Reptile Room until they had walked the length of each aisle, but once they reached the far end they gasped in astonishment and delight once more. For here, at the end of the rows and rows of cages, were rows and rows of bookshelves, each one stuffed with books of different sizes and shapes, with a cluster of tables, chairs, and reading lamps in one corner. I'm sure you remember that the Baudelaire children's parents had an enormous collection of books, which the orphans remembered fondly and missed dreadfully, and since the terrible fire, the children were always delighted to meet someone who loved books as much as they did. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny examined the books as carefully as they had the reptile cages, and realized immediately that most of the books were about snakes and other reptiles. It seemed as if every book written on reptiles, from An Introduction to Large Lizards to The Care and Feeding of the Androgynous Cobra, were lined up on the shelves, and all three children, Klaus especially, looked forward to reading up on the creatures in the Reptile Room.
"This is an amazing place," Violet said finally, breaking the long silence.
"Thank you," Uncle Monty said. "It's taken me a lifetime to put together."
"And are we really allowed to come inside here?" Klaus asked.
"Allowed?" Uncle Monty repeated. "Of course not! You are implored to come inside here, my boy. Starting first thing tomorrow morning, all of us must be here every day in preparation for the expedition to Peru. I will clear off one of those tables for you, Violet, to work on the traps. Klaus, I expect you to read all of the books about Peru that I have, and make careful notes. And Sunny can sit on the floor and bite rope. We will work all day until suppertime, and after supper we will go to the movies. Are there any objections?"
Violet, Klaus, and Sunny looked at one another and grinned. Any objections? The Baudelaire orphans had just been living with Count Olaf, who had made them chop wood and clean up after his drunken guests, while plotting to steal their fortune. Uncle Monty had just described a delightful way to spend one's time, and the children smiled at him eagerly. Of course there would be no objections. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny gazed at the Reptile Room and envisioned an end to their troubles as they lived their lives under Uncle Monty's care. They were wrong, of course, about their misery being over, but for the moment the three siblings were hopeful, excited, and happy.
"No, no, no," Sunny cried out, in apparent answer to Uncle Monty's question.
"Good, good, good," Uncle Monty said, smiling. "Now, let's go figure out whose room is whose."
"Uncle Monty?" Klaus asked shyly. "I just have one question."
"What is that?" Uncle Monty said.
"What's in that cage with the cloth on top of it?"
Uncle Monty looked at the cage, and then at the children. His face lit up with a smile of pure joy. "That, my dears, is a new snake which I brought over from my last journey. Gustav and myself are the only people to have seen it. Next month I will present it to the Herpetological Society as a new discovery, but in the meantime I will allow you to look at it. Gather 'round."
The Baudelaire orphans followed Uncle Monty to the cloth-covered cage, and with a flourish-the word "flourish" here means "a sweeping gesture, often used to show off-he swooped the cloth off the cage. Inside was a large black snake, as dark as a coal mine and as thick as a sewer pipe, looking right at the orphans with shiny green eyes. With the cloth off its cage, the snake began to uncoil itself and slither around its home.
"Because I discovered it," Uncle Monty said, "I got to name it."
"What is it called?" Violet asked.
"The Incredibly Deadly Viper," Uncle Monty replied, and at that moment something happened which I'm sure will interest you. With one flick of its tail, the snake unlatched the door of its cage and slithered out onto the table, and before Uncle Monty or any of the Baudelaire orphans could say anything, it opened its mouth and bit Sunny right on the chin.

Chapter Three

I am very, very sorry to leave you hanging like that, but as I was writing the tale of the Baudelaire orphans, I happened to look at the clock and realized I was running late for a formal dinner party given by a friend of mine, Madame diLustro. Madame diLustro is a good friend, an excellent detective, and a fine cook, but she flies into a rage if you arrive even five minutes later than her invitation states, so you understand that I had to dash off. You must have thought, at the end of the previous chapter, that Sunny was dead and that this was the terrible thing that happened to the Baudelaires at Uncle Monty's house, but I promise you Sunny survives this particular episode. It is Uncle Monty, unfortunately, who will be dead, but not yet.
As the fangs of the Incredibly Deadly Viper closed on Sunny's chin, Violet and Klaus watched in horror as Sunny's little eyes closed and her face grew quiet. Then, moving as suddenly as the snake, Sunny smiled brightly, opened her mouth, and bit the Incredibly Deadly Viper right on its tiny, scaled nose. The snake let go of her chin, and Violet and Klaus could see that it had left barely a mark. The two older Baudelaire siblings looked at Uncle Monty, and Uncle Monty looked back at them and laughed. His loud laughter bounced off the glass walls of the Reptile Room.
"Uncle Monty, what can we do?" Klaus said in despair.
"Oh, I'm sorry, my dears," Uncle Monty said, wiping his eyes with his hands. "You must be very frightened. But the Incredibly Deadly Viper is one of the least dangerous and most friendly creatures in the animal kingdom. Sunny has nothing to worry about, and neither do you."
Klaus looked at his baby sister, who was still in his arms, as she playfully gave the Incredibly Deadly Viper a big hug around its thick body, and he realized Uncle Monty must be telling the truth. "But then why is it called the Incredibly Deadly Viper?"
Uncle Monty laughed again. "It's a misnomer," he said, using a word which here means "a very wrong name." "Because I discovered it, I got to name it, remember? Don't tell anyone about the Incredibly Deadly Viper, because I'm going to present it to the Herpetological Society and give them a good scare before explaining that the snake is completely harmless! Lord knows they've teased me many times, because of my name. 'Hello hello, Montgomery Montgomery,' they say. 'How are you how are you, Montgomery Montgomery?' But at this year's conference I'm going to get back at them with this prank." Uncle Monty drew himself up to his full height and began talking in a silly, scientific voice. "'Colleagues,' I'll say, 'I would like to introduce to you a new species, the Incredibly Deadly Viper, which I found in the southwest forest of-my God! It's escaped!' And then, when all my fellow herpetologists have jumped up on chairs and tables and are shrieking in fear, I'll tell them that the snake wouldn't hurt a fly! Won't that be hysterical?"
Violet and Klaus looked at each other, and then began laughing, half in relief that their sister was unharmed, and half with amusement, because they thought Uncle Monty's prank was a good one.
Klaus put Sunny down on the floor, and the Incredibly Deadly Viper followed, wriggling its tail affectionately around Sunny, the way you might put your arm around someone of whom you were fond.
"Are there any snakes in this room that are dangerous?" Violet asked.
"Of course," Uncle Monty said. "You can't study snakes for forty years without encountering some dangerous ones. I have a whole cabinet of venom samples from every poisonous snake known to people, so I can study the ways in which these dangerous snakes work. There is a snake in this room whose venom is so deadly that your heart would stop before you even knew he'd bitten you. There is a snake who can open her mouth so wide she could swallow all of us, together, in one gulp. There is a pair of snakes who have learned to drive a car so recklessly that they would run you over in the street and never stop to apologize. But all of these snakes are in cages with much sturdier locks, and all of them can be handled safely when one has studied them enough. I promise that if you take time to learn the facts, no harm will come to you here in the Reptile Room."
There is a type of situation, which occurs all too often and which is occurring at this point in the story of the Baudelaire orphans, called
"dramatic irony." Simply put, dramatic irony is when a person makes a harmless remark, and someone else who hears it knows something that makes the remark have a different, and usually unpleasant, meaning. For instance, if you were in a restaurant and said out loud, "I can't wait to eat the veal marsala I ordered," and there were people around who knew that the veal marsala was poisoned and that you would die as soon as you took a bite, your situation would be one of dramatic irony. Dramatic irony is a cruel occurrence, one that is almost always upsetting, and I'm sorry to have it appear in this story, but Violet, Klaus, and Sunny have such unfortunate lives that it was only a matter of time before dramatic irony would rear its ugly head.
As you and I listen to Uncle Monty tell the three Baudelaire orphans that no harm will ever come to them in the Reptile Room, we should be experiencing the strange feeling that accompanies the arrival of dramatic irony. This feeling is not unlike the sinking in one's stomach when one is in an elevator that suddenly goes down, or when you are snug in bed and your closet door suddenly creaks open to reveal the person who has been hiding there. For no matter how safe and happy the three children felt, no matter how comforting Uncle Monty's words were, you and I know that soon Uncle Monty will be dead and the Baudelaires will be miserable once again.
During the week that followed, however, the Baudelaires had a wonderful time in their new home. Each morning, they woke up and dressed in the privacy of their very own rooms, which they had chosen and decorated to their liking. Violet had chosen a room that had an enormous window looking out onto the snake-shaped hedges on the front lawn. She thought such a view might inspire her when she was inventing things. Uncle Monty had allowed her to tack up large pieces of white paper on each wall, so she could sketch out her ideas, even if they came to her in the middle of the night. Klaus had
chosen a room with a cozy alcove in it-the word "alcove" here means "a very, very small nook just perfect for sitting and reading." With Uncle Monty's permission, he had carried up a large cushioned chair from the living room and placed it right in the alcove, under a heavy brass reading lamp. Each night, rather than reading in bed, he would curl himself in the chair with a book from Uncle Monty's library, sometimes until morning. Sunny had chosen a room right between Violet's and Klaus's, and filled it with small, hard objects from all over the house, so she could bite them when she felt like it. There were also assorted toys for the Incredibly Deadly Viper so the two of them could play together whenever they wanted, within reason. But where the Baudelaire orphans most liked to be was the Reptile Room. Each morning, after breakfast, they would join Uncle Monty, who would have already started work on the upcoming expedition. Violet sat at a table with the ropes, gears, and cages that made up the different snake traps, learning how they worked, repairing them if they were broken, and occasionally making improvements to make the traps more comfortable for the snakes on their long journey from Peru to Uncle Monty's house. Klaus sat nearby, reading the books on Peru Uncle Monty had and taking notes on a pad of paper so they could refer to them later. And Sunny sat on the floor, biting a long rope into shorter pieces with great enthusiasm. But what the Baudelaire youngsters liked best was learning all about the reptiles from Uncle Monty. As they worked, he would show them the Alaskan Cow Lizard, a long green creature that produced delicious milk. They met the Dissonant Toad, which could imitate human speech in a gravelly voice. Uncle Monty taught them how to handle the Inky Newt without getting its black dye all over their fingers, and how to tell when the Irascible Python was grumpy and best left alone. He taught them not to give the Green Gimlet Toad too much water, and to never, under  any circumstances, let the Virginian Wolfsnake near a typewriter.
While he was telling them about the different reptiles, Uncle Monty would often segue- a word which here means "let the conversation veer off-to stories from his travels, describing the men, snakes, women, toads, children, and lizards he'd met on his journeys. And before too long, the Baudelaire orphans were telling Uncle Monty all about their own lives, eventually talking about their parents and how much they missed them. Uncle Monty was as interested in the Baudelaires' stories as they were in his, and sometimes they got to talking so long they scarcely had time to gobble down dinner before cramming themselves into Uncle Monty's tiny jeep and heading to the movies.
One morning, however, when the three children finished their breakfast and went into the Reptile Room, they found not Uncle Monty, but a note from him. The note read as follows:

Dear Bambini,
I have gone into town to buy a few last things we need for the expedition: Peruvian wasp repellent, toothbrushes, canned peaches, and a fireproof canoe. It will take a while to find the peaches, so don't expect me back until dinnertime.
Stephano, Gustav's replacement, will arrive today by taxi. Please make him feel welcome. As you know, it is only two days until the expedition, so please work very hard today.
Your giddy uncle, Monty
"What does 'giddy' mean?" Violet asked, when they had finished reading the note.
"'Dizzy and excited,'" Klaus said, having learned the word from a collection of poetry he'd read in first grade. "I guess he means excited about Peru. Or maybe he's excited about having a new assistant."
"Or maybe he's excited about us," Violet said.
"Kindal!" Sunny shrieked, which probably meant "Or maybe he's excited about all these things."
"I'm a little giddy myself," Klaus said. "It's really fun to live with Uncle Monty."
"It certainly is," Violet agreed. "After the fire, I thought I would never be happy again. But our time here has been wonderful."
"I still miss our parents, though," Klaus said. "No matter how nice Uncle Monty is, I wish we still lived in our real home."
"Of course," Violet said quickly. She paused, and slowly said out loud something she had been thinking about for the past few days. "I think we'll always miss our parents. But I think we can miss them without being miserable all the time. After all, they wouldn't want us to be miserable."
"Remember that time," Klaus said wistfully, "when we were bored one rainy afternoon, and all of us painted our toenails bright red?"
"Yes," Violet said, grinning, "and I spilled some on the yellow chair."
"Archo!" Sunny said quietly, which probably meant something like "And the stain never really came out." The Baudelaire orphans smiled at each other and, without a word, began to do the day's work. For the rest of the morning they worked quietly and steadily, realizing that their contentment here at Uncle Monty's house did not erase their parents' death, not at all, but at least it made them feel better after feeling so sad, for so long.
It is unfortunate, of course, that this quiet happy moment was the last one the children would have for quite some time, but there is nothing anyone can do about it now. Just when the Baudelaires were beginning to think about lunch, they heard a car pull up in front of the house and toot its horn. To the children it signaled the arrival of Stephano. To us it should signal the beginning of more misery.
"I expect that's the new assistant," Klaus said, looking up from The Big Peruvian Book of Small Peruvian Snakes. "I hope he's as nice as Monty."
"Me too," Violet said, opening and shutting a toad trap to make sure it worked smoothly. "It would be unpleasant to travel to Peru with somebody who was boring or mean."
"Gerja!" Sunny shrieked, which probably meant something like "Well, let's go find out what Stephano is like!"
The Baudelaires left the Reptile Room and walked out the front door to find a taxi parked next to the snake-shaped hedges. A very tall, thin man with a long beard and no eyebrows over his eyes was getting out of the backseat, carrying a black suitcase with a shiny silver padlock.
"I'm not going to give you a tip," the bearded man was saying to the driver of the taxi, "because you talk too much. Not everybody wants to hear about your new baby, you know. Oh, hello there. I am Stephano, Dr. Montgomery's new assistant. How do you do?"
"How do you do?" Violet said, and as she approached him, there was something about his wheezy voice that seemed vaguely familiar.
"How do you do?" Klaus said, and as he looked up at Stephano, there was something about his shiny eyes that seemed quite familiar.
"Hooda!" Sunny shrieked. Stephano wasn't wearing any socks, and Sunny, crawling on the ground, could see his bare ankle between his pant cuff and his shoe. There on his ankle was something that was most familiar of all.
The Baudelaire orphans all realized the same thing at the same time, and took a step back as you might from a growling dog. This man wasn't Stephano, no matter what he called himself. The three children looked at Uncle Monty's new assistant from head to toe and saw that he was none other than Count Olaf. He may have shaved off his one long eyebrow, and grown a beard over his scraggly chin, but there was no way he could hide the tattoo of an eye on his ankle.

Chapter Four

One of the most difficult things to think about in life is one's regrets. Something will happen to you, and you will do the wrong thing, and for years afterward you will wish you had done something different. For instance, sometimes when I am walking along the seashore, or visiting the grave of a friend, I will remember a day, a long time ago, when I didn't bring a flashlight with me to a place where I should have brought a flashlight, and the results were disastrous. Why didn't I bring a flashlight? I think to myself, even though it is too late to do anything about it. I should have brought a flashlight.
For years after this moment in the lives of the Baudelaire orphans, Klaus thought of the time when he and his siblings realized that Stephano was actually Count Olaf, and was filled with regret that he didn't call out to the driver of the taxicab who was beginning to drive back down the driveway. Stop! Klaus would think to himself, even though it was too late to do anything about it. Stop! Take this man away! Of course, it is perfectly understandable that Klaus and his sisters were too surprised to act so quickly, but Klaus would lie awake in bed, years later, thinking that maybe, just maybe, if he had acted in time, he could have saved Uncle Monty's life.
But he didn't. As the Baudelaire orphans stared at Count Olaf, the taxi drove back down the driveway and the children were alone with their nemesis, a word which here means "the worst enemy you could imagine." Olaf smiled at them the way Uncle Monty's Mongolian Meansnake would smile when a white mouse was placed in its cage each day for dinner. "Perhaps one of you might carry my suitcase into my room," he suggested in his wheezy voice. "The ride along that smelly road was dull and unpleasant and I am very tired."
"If anyone ever deserved to travel along Lousy Lane," Violet said, glaring at him, "it is you, Count Olaf. We will certainly not help you with your luggage, because we will not let you in this house."
Olaf frowned at the orphans, and then looked this way and that as if he expected to see someone hiding behind the snake-shaped hedges. "Who is Count Olaf?" he asked quizzically. "My name is Stephano. I am here to assist Montgomery Montgomery with his upcoming expedition to Peru. I assume you three are midgets who work as servants in the Montgomery home."
"We are not midgets," Klaus said sternly. "We are children. And you are not Stephano. You are Count Olaf. You may have grown a beard and shaved your eyebrow, but you are still the same despicable person and we will not let you in this house."
"Futa!" Sunny shrieked, which probably meant something like "I agree!"
Count Olaf looked at each of the Baudelaire orphans, his eyes shining brightly as if he were telling a joke. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, "but if I did, and I were this Count Olaf you speak of, I would think that you were being very rude. And if I thought you were rude, I might get angry. And if I got angry, who knows what I would do?"
The children watched as Count Olaf raised his scrawny arms in a sort of shrug. It probably isn't necessary to remind you just how violent he could be, but it certainly wasn't necessary at all to remind the Baudelaires. Klaus could still feel the bruise on his face from the time Count Olaf had struck him, when they were living in his house. Sunny still ached from being stuffed into a birdcage and dangled from the tower where he made his evil plans. And while Violet had not been the victim of any physical violence from this terrible man, she had almost been forced to marry him, and that was enough to make her pick up his suitcase and drag it slowly toward the door to the house.
"Higher," Olaf said. "Lift it higher. I don't want it dragged along the ground like that."
Klaus and Sunny hurried to help Violet with the suitcase, but even with the three of them carrying it the weight made them stagger. It was misery enough that Count Olaf had reappeared in their lives, just when they were feeling so comfortable and safe with Uncle Monty. But to actually be helping this awful person enter their home was almost more than they could bear. Olaf followed closely behind them and the three children could smell his stale breath as they brought the suitcase indoors and set it on the carpet beneath the painting of the entwined snakes.
"Thank you, orphans," Olaf said, shutting the front door behind him. "Now, Dr. Montgomery said my room would be waiting upstairs. I suppose I can carry my luggage from here. Now run along. We'll have lots of time to get to know one another later."
"We already know you, Count Olaf," Violet said. "You obviously haven't changed a bit."
"You haven't changed, either," Olaf said. "It is clear to me, Violet, that you are as stubborn as ever. And Klaus, you are still wearing those idiotic glasses from reading too many books. And I see that little Sunny here still has nine toes instead of ten."
"Put!" Sunny shrieked, which probably meant something like "I do not!"
"What are you talking about?" Klaus said
impatiently. "She has ten toes, just like everybody else."
"Really?" Olaf said. "That's odd. I remember that she lost one of her toes in an accident." His eyes shone even brighter, as if he were telling a joke, and he reached into the pocket of his shabby coat and brought out a long knife, such as one might use for slicing bread. "I seem to recall there was a man who was so confused by being called repeatedly by the wrong name that he accidentally dropped a knife on her little foot and severed one of her toes."
Violet and Klaus looked at Count Olaf, and then at the bare foot of their little sister. "You wouldn't dare," Klaus said.
"Let's not discuss what I would or would not dare to do," Olaf said. "Let us discuss, rather, what I am to be called for as long as we are together in this house."
"We'll call you Stephano, if you insist on threatening us," Violet said, "but we won't be together in this house for long."
Stephano opened his mouth to say something, but Violet was not interested in continuing the conversation. She turned on her heel and marched primly through the enormous door of the Reptile Room, followed by her siblings. If you or I had been there, we would have thought that the Baudelaire orphans weren't scared at all, speaking so bravely like that to Stephano and then simply walking away, but once the children reached the far end of the room, their true emotions showed clearly on their faces. The Baudelaires were terrified. Violet put her hands over her face and leaned against one of the reptile cages. Klaus sank into a chair, trembling so hard that his feet rattled against the marble floor. And Sunny curled up into a little ball on the floor, so tiny you might have missed her if you walked into the room. For several moments, none of the children spoke, just listened to the muffled sounds of Stephano walking up the stairs and their own heartbeats pounding in their ears.
"How did he find us?" Klaus asked. His voice was a hoarse whisper, as if he had a sore throat. "How did he get to be Uncle Monty's assistant? What is he doing here?"
"He vowed that he'd get his hands on the Baudelaire fortune," Violet said, taking her hands away from her face and picking up Sunny, who was shivering. "That was the last thing he said to me before he escaped. He said he'd get our fortune if it was the last thing he ever did." Violet shuddered, and did not add that he'd also said that once he got their fortune, he'd do away with all three of the Baudelaire siblings. She did not need to add it. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny all knew that if he figured out a way to seize their fortune, he would slit the throats of the Baudelaire orphans as easily as you or I might eat a small butter cookie.
"What can we do?" Klaus asked. "Uncle Monty won't be back for hours."
"Maybe we can call Mr. Poe," Violet said. "It's the middle of business hours, but maybe he could leave the bank for an emergency."
"He wouldn't believe us," Klaus said. "Remember when we tried to tell him about Count Olaf when we lived there? He took such a long time to realize the truth, it was almost too late. I think we should run away. If we leave right now, we could probably get to town in time to catch a train far away from here."
Violet pictured the three of them, all alone, walking along Lousy Lane beneath the sour apple trees, with the bitter smell of horseradish encircling them. "Where would we go?" she asked.
"Anywhere," Klaus said. "Anywhere but here. We could go far away where Count Olaf wouldn't find us, and change our names so no one would know who we were."
"We haven't any money," Violet pointed out. "How could we live by ourselves?"
"We could get jobs," Klaus replied. "I could work in a library, maybe, and you could work in some sort of mechanical factory. Sunny probably couldn't get a job at her age, but in a few years she could."
The three orphans were quiet. They tried to picture leaving Uncle Monty and living by themselves, trying to find jobs and take care of each other. It was a very lonely prospect. The Baudelaire children sat in sad silence awhile, and they were each thinking the same thing: They wished that their parents had never been killed in the fire, and that their lives had never been turned topsy-turvy the way they had. If only the Baudelaire parents were still alive, the youngsters wouldn't even have heard of Count Olaf, let alone have him settling into their home and undoubtedly making evil plans.
"We can't leave," Violet said finally. "Count Olaf found us once, and I'm sure he'd find us again, no matter how far we went. Plus, who knows where Count Olaf's assistants are? Perhaps they've surrounded the house right now, keeping watch in case we're on to him."
Klaus shivered. He hadn't been thinking of Olaf's assistants. Besides scheming to get his hands on the Baudelaire fortune, Olaf was the leader of a terrible theater troupe, and his fellow actors were always ready to help him with his plans. They were a gruesome crew, each more terrifying than the next. There was a bald man with a long nose, who always wore a black robe. There were two women who always had ghostly white powder on their faces. There was a person so large and blank-looking that you couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. And there was a skinny man with two hooks where his hands should have been. Violet was right. Any of these people could be lurking outside Uncle Monty's house, waiting to catch them if they tried to escape.
"I think we should just wait for Uncle Monty to come back, and tell him what has happened," Violet said. "He'll believe us. If we tell him about the tattoo, he'll at least ask Stephana for an explanation." Violet's tone of voice when she said "Stephano" indicated her utter scorn for Olaf's disguise.
"Are you sure?" Klaus said. "After all, Uncle Monty is the one who hired Stephano." Klaus's tone of voice when he said "Stephano" indicated that he shared his sister's feelings. "For all we know, Uncle Monty and Stephano have planned something together."
"Minda!" Sunny shrieked, which probably meant something like "Don't be ridiculous, Klaus!"
Violet shook her head. "Sunny's right. I can't believe that Uncle Monty would be in cahoots with Olaf. He's been so kind and generous to us, and besides, if they were working together, Olaf wouldn't insist on using a different name."
"That's true," Klaus said thoughtfully. "So we wait for Uncle Monty."
"We wait," Violet agreed.
"Tojoo," Sunny said solemnly, and the siblings looked at one another glumly. Waiting is one of life's hardships. It is hard enough to wait for chocolate cream pie while burnt roast beef is still on your plate. It is plenty difficult to wait for Halloween when the tedious month of September is still ahead of you. But to wait for one's adopted uncle to come home while a greedy and violent man is upstairs was one of the worst waits the Baudelaires had ever experienced. To get their mind off it, they tried to continue with their work, but the children were too anxious to get anything done. Violet tried to fix a hinged door on one of the traps, but all she could concentrate on was the knot of worry in her stomach. Klaus tried to read about protecting oneself from thorny Peruvian plants, but thoughts of Stephano kept clouding his brain. And Sunny tried to bite rope, but she had a cold chill of fear running through her teeth and she soon gave up. She didn't even feel like playing with the Incredibly Deadly Viper. So the Baudelaires spent the rest of the afternoon sitting silently in the Reptile Room, looking out the window for Uncle Monty's jeep and listening to the occasional noise from upstairs. They didn't even want to think about what Stephano might be unpacking.
Finally, as the snake-shaped hedges began to cast long, skinny shadows in the setting sun, the three children heard an approaching engine, and the jeep pulled up. A large canoe was strapped to the roof of the jeep, and the backseat was piled with Monty's purchases. Uncle Monty got out, struggling under the weight of several shopping bags, and saw the children through the glass walls of the Reptile Room. He smiled at them. They smiled back, and in that instant when they smiled was created another moment of regret for them. Had they not paused to smile at Monty but instead gone dashing out to the car, they might have had a brief moment alone with him. But by the time they reached the entry hall, he was already talking to Stephano.
"I didn't know what kind of toothbrush you preferred," Uncle Monty was saying apologetically, "so I got you one with extra-firm bristles because that's the kind I like. Peruvian food tends to be sticky, so you need to have at least one extra toothbrush whenever you go there."
"Extra-firm bristles are fine with me," Stephano said, speaking to Uncle Monty but looking at the orphans with his shiny, shiny eyes. "Shall I carry in the canoe?"
"Yes, but my goodness, you can't carry it all by yourself," Uncle Monty said. "Klaus, please help Stephano, will you?"
"Uncle Monty," Violet said, "we have something very important to tell you."
"I'm all ears," Uncle Monty said, "but first let me show you the wasp repellent I picked up. I'm so glad Klaus read up on the insect situation in Peru, because the other repellents I have would have been no use at all." Uncle Monty rooted through one of the bags on his arm as the children waited impatiently for him to finish. "This one contains a chemical called-"
"Uncle Monty," Klaus said, "what we have to tell you really can't wait.
"Klaus " Uncle Monty said, his eyebrows rising in surprise, "it's not polite to interrupt when your uncle is talking. Now, please help Stephano with the canoe, and we'll talk about anything you want in a few moments."
Klaus sighed, but followed Stephano out the open door. Violet watched them walking toward the ieep as Uncle Monty put down the shopping bags and faced her. "I can't remember what I was saying about the repellent," he said, a httle crossly "I hate losing my train of thought."
"What we have to tell you," Violet began, but she stopped when something caught her eye. Monty was facing away from the door, so he couldn't see what Stephano was doing, but Violet saw Stephano stop at the snake-shaped hedges reach into his coat pocket, and take out the long knife. Its blade caught the light of the setting sun and it glowed bnghtly like a lighthouse. As you probably know, lighthouses serve as warning signals, telling ships where the shore is so they don't run into it. The shining knife was a warning, too.
Klaus looked at the knife, and then at Stephano, and then at Violet. Violet looked at Klaus, and then at Stephano, and then at Monty. Sunny looked at everyone. Only Monty didn't notice what was going on, so intent was he on remembering whatever he was babbling about wasp repellent. "What we have to tell you," Violet began again, but she couldn't continue. Stephano didn't say a word. He didn't have to. Violet knew that if she breathed one word about his true identity, Stephano would hurt her brother, right there at the snake-shaped hedges. Without saying a word, the nemesis of the Baudelaire orphans had sent a very clear warning.

Chapter Five

That night felt like the longest and most terrible the Baudelaire orphans had ever had, and they'd had plenty. There was one night, shortly after Sunny was born, that all three children had a horrible flu, and tossed and turned in the grasp of a terrible fever, while their father tried to soothe them all at once, placing cold washcloths on their sweaty brows. The night after their parents had been killed, the three children had stayed at Mr. Poe's house, and had stayed up all night, too miserable and confused to even try to sleep. And of course, they had spent many a long and terrible night while living with Count Olaf.
But this particular night seemed worse. From the moment of Monty's arrival until bedtime, Stephano kept the children under his constant surveillance, a phrase which here means "kept watching them so they couldn't possibly talk to Uncle Monty alone and reveal that he was really Count Olaf," and Uncle Monty was too preoccupied to think that anything unusual was going on. When they brought in the rest of Uncle Monty's purchases, Stephano carried bags with only one hand, keeping the other one in his coat pocket where the long knife was hidden, but Uncle Monty was too excited about all the new supplies to ask about it. When they went   into   the   kitchen   to   prepare   dinner, Stephano smiled menacingly at the children as he sliced mushrooms, but Uncle Monty was too busy making sure the stroganoff sauce didn't boil to even notice that Stephano was using his own threatening knife for the chopping. Over dinner, Stephano told funny stories and praised Monty's scientific work, and Uncle Monty was so flattered he didn't even think to guess that Stephano was holding a knife under the table, rubbing the blade gently against Violet's knee for the entire meal. And when Uncle Monty announced that he would spend the evening showing his new assistant around the Reptile Room, he was too eager to realize that the Baudelaires simply went up to bed without a word.
For the first time, having individual bedrooms seemed like a hardship rather than a luxury, for without one another's company the orphans felt even more lonely and helpless. Violet stared at the paper tacked to her wall and tried to imagine what Stephano was planning. Klaus sat in his large cushioned chair and turned on his brass reading lamp but was too worried to even open a book. Sunny stared at her hard objects but didn't bite a single one of them.
All three children thought of walking down the hall to Uncle Monty's room and waking him up to tell him what was wrong. But to get to his bedroom, they would have to walk past the room in which Stephano was staying, and all night long Stephano kept watch in a chair placed in front of his open door. When the orphans opened their doors to peer down the dark hallway, they saw Stephano's pale, shaved head, which seemed to be floating above his body in the darkness. And they could see his knife, which Stephano was moving slowly like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Back and forth it went, back and forth, glinting in the dim light, and the sight was so fearsome they didn't dare try walking down the hallway.
Finally, the light in the house turned the pale blue-gray of early dawn, and the Baudelaire children walked blearily down the stairs to breakfast, tired and achy from their sleepless night. They sat around the table where they had eaten cake on their first morning at the house, and picked listlessly at their food. For the first time since their arrival at Uncle Monty's, they were not eager to enter the Reptile Room and begin the day's work.
"I suppose we have to go in now," Violet said finally, putting aside her scarcely nibbled toast. "I'm sure Uncle Monty has already started working, and is expecting us."
"And I'm sure that Stephano is there, too," Klaus said, staring glumly into his cereal bowl. "We'll never get a chance to tell Uncle Monty what we know about him."
"Yinga," Sunny said sadly, dropping her untouched raw carrot to the floor.
"If only Uncle Monty knew what we know," Violet said, "and Stephano knew that he knew what we know. But Uncle Monty doesn't know what we know, and Stephano knows that he doesn't know what we know."
"I know," Klaus said.
"I know you know," Violet said, "but what we don't know is what Count Olaf-I mean Stephano-is really up to. He's after our fortune, certainly, but how can he get it if we're under Uncle Monty's care?"
"Maybe he's just going to wait until you're of age, and then steal the fortune," Klaus said.
"Four years is a long time to wait," Violet said. The three orphans were quiet, as each remembered where they had been four years ago. Violet had been ten, and had worn her hair very short. She remembered that sometime around her tenth birthday she had invented a new kind of pencil sharpener. Klaus had been about eight, and he remembered how interested he had been in comets, reading all the astronomy books his parents had in their library. Sunny, of course, had not been born four years ago, and she sat and tried to remember what that was like. Very dark, she thought, with nothing to bite. For all three youngsters, four years did seem like a very long time.
"Come on, come on, you are moving very slowly this morning," Uncle Monty said, bursting into the room. His face seemed even brighter than usual, and he was holding a small bunch of folded papers in one hand. "Stephano has only worked here one day, and he's already in the Reptile Room. In fact, he was up before I was-I ran into him on my way down the stairs. He's an eager beaver. But you three- you're moving like the Hungarian Sloth Snake, whose top speed is half an inch per hour! We have lots to do today, and I'd like to catch the six o'clock showing of Zombies in the Snow tonight, so let's try to hurry, hurry, hurry."
Violet looked at Uncle Monty, and realized that this might be their only opportunity to talk to him alone, without Stephano around, but he seemed so wound up they weren't sure if he would listen to them. "Speaking of Stephano," she said timidly, "we'd like to talk to you about him."
Uncle Monty's eyes widened, and he looked around him as if there were spies in the room before leaning in to whisper to the children. "I'd like to talk to you, too," he said. "I have my suspicions about Stephano, and I'd like to discuss them with you."
The Baudelaire orphans looked at one another in relief. "You do?" Klaus said.
"Of course," Uncle Monty said. "Last night I began to get very suspicious about this new assistant of mine. There's something a little spooky about him, and I-" Uncle Monty looked around again, and began speaking even softer, so the children had to hold their breaths to hear him. "And I think we should discuss it outside. Shall we?"
The children nodded in agreement, and rose from the table. Leaving their dirty breakfast dishes behind, which is not a good thing to do in general but perfectly acceptable in the face of an emergency, they walked with Uncle Monty to the front entryway, past the painting of two snakes entwined together, out the front door, and onto the lawn, as if they wanted to talk to the snake-shaped hedges instead of to one another.
"I don't mean to be vainglorious," Uncle Monty began, using a word which here means "braggy," "but I really am one of the most widely respected herpetologists in the world."
Klaus blinked. It was an unexpected beginning for the conversation. "Of course you are," he said, "but-"
"And because of this, I'm sad to say," Uncle Monty continued, as if he had not heard, "many people are jealous of me."
"I'm sure that's true," Violet said, puzzled.
"And when people are jealous," Uncle Monty said, shaking his head, "they will do anything. They will do crazy things. When I was getting my herpetology degree, my roommate was so envious of a new toad I had discovered that he stole and ate my only specimen. I had to X-ray his stomach, and use the X-rays rather than the toad in my presentation. And something tells me we may have a similar situation here."
What was Uncle Monty talking about?
"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you," Klaus said, which is the polite way of saying "What are you talking about, Uncle Monty?"
"Last night, after you went to bed, Stephano asked me a few too many questions about all the snakes and about my upcoming expedition. And do you know why?"
"I think so," Violet began, but Uncle Monty interrupted her.
"It is because this man who is calling himself Stephano," he said, "is really a member of the Herpetological Society, and he is here to try and find the Incredibly Deadly Viper so he can preempt my presentation. Do you three know what the word 'preempt' means?"
"No," Violet said, "but-"
"It means that I think this Stephano is going to steal my snake," Uncle Monty said, "and present it to the Herpetological Society. Because it is a new species, there's no way I can prove I discovered it. Before we know it, the Incredibly Deadly Viper will be called the Stephano Snake, or something dreadful like that. And if he's planning that, just think what he will do to our Peruvian expedition. Each toad we catch, each venom sample we put into a test tube, each snake interview we record-every scrap of work we do-will fall into the hands of this Herpetological Society spy."
"He's not a Herpetological Society spy," Klaus said impatiently, "he's Count Olaf!"
"I know just what you mean!" Uncle Monty said excitedly. "This sort of behavior is indeed as dastardly as that terrible man's. That is why I'm doing this." He raised one hand and waved the folded papers in the air. "As you know," he said, "tomorrow we are leaving for Peru. These are our tickets for the five o'clock voyage on the Prospero, a fine ship that will take us across the sea to South America. There's a ticket for me, one for Violet, one for Klaus, one for Stephano, but not one for Sunny because we're going to hide her in a suitcase to save money."
"Deepo!"
"I'm kidding about that. But I'm not kidding about this." Uncle Monty, his face flushed with excitement, took one of the folded papers and began ripping it into tiny pieces. "This is Stephano's ticket. He's not going to Peru with us after all. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to tell him that he needs to stay here and look after my specimens instead. That way we can run a successful expedition in peace."
"But Uncle Monty-" Klaus said.
"How many times must I remind you it's not polite to interrupt?" Uncle Monty interrupted, shaking his head. "In any case, I know what you're worried about. You're worried what will happen if he stays here alone with the Incredibly Deadly Viper. But don't worry. The Viper will join us on the expedition, traveling in one of our snake carrying cases. I don't know why you're looking so glum, Sunny. I thought you'd be happy to have the Viper's company. So don't look so worried, bambini. As you can see, your Uncle Monty has the situation in hand."
When somebody is a little bit wrong-say, when a waiter puts nonfat milk in your espresso macchiato, instead of lowfat milk-it is often quite easy to explain to them how and why they are wrong. But if somebody is surpassingly wrong-say, when a waiter bites your nose instead of taking your order-you can often be so surprised that you are unable to say anything at all. Paralyzed by how wrong the waiter is, your mouth would hang slightly open and your eyes would blink over and over, but you would be unable to say a word. This is what the Baudelaire children did. Uncle Monty was so wrong about Stephano, in thinking he was a her-petological spy rather than Count Olaf, that the three siblings could scarcely think of a way to tell him so.
"Come now, my dears," Uncle Monty said. "We've wasted enough of the morning on talk. We have to-owl" He interrupted himself with a cry of surprise and pain, and fell to the ground.
"Uncle Monty!" Klaus cried. The Baudelaire children saw that a large, shiny object was on top of him, and realized a moment later what the object was: it was the heavy brass reading lamp, the one standing next to the large cushioned chair in Klaus's room.
"Ow!" Uncle Monty said again, pulling the lamp off him. "That really hurt. My shoulder may be sprained. It's a good thing it didn't land on my head, or it really could have done some damage."
"But where did it come from?" Violet asked.
"It must have fallen from the window," Uncle Monty said, pointing up to where Klaus's room was. "Whose room is that? Klaus, I believe it is yours. You must be more careful. You can't dangle heavy objects out the window like that. Look what almost happened."
"But that lamp wasn't anywhere near my window," Klaus said. "I keep it in the alcove, so I can read in that large chair."
"Really, Klaus," Uncle Monty said, standing up and handing him the lamp. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that the lamp danced over to the window and leaped onto my shoulder? Please put this back in your room, in a safe place, and we'll say no more about it."
"But-" Klaus said, but his older sister interrupted him.
"I'll help you, Klaus," Violet said. "We'll find a place for it where it's safe."
"Well, don't be too long," Uncle Monty said, rubbing his shoulder. "We'll see you in the Reptile Room. Come, Sunny."
Walking through the entry hall, the four parted ways at the stairs, with Uncle Monty and Sunny going to the enormous door of the Reptile Room, and Violet and Klaus carrying the heavy brass lamp up to Klaus's room.
"You know very well" Klaus hissed to his sister, "that I was not careless with this lamp."
"Of course I know that," Violet whispered. "But there's no use trying to explain that to
Uncle Monty. He thinks Stephano is a herpe-tological spy. You know as well as I do that Stephano was responsible for this."
"How clever of you to figure that out," said a voice at the top of the stairs, and Violet and Klaus were so surprised they almost dropped the lamp. It was Stephano, or, if you prefer, it was Count Olaf. It was the bad guy. "But then, you've always been clever children," he continued. "A little too clever for my taste, but you won't be around for long, so I'm not troubled by it."
"You're not very clever yourself, " Klaus said fiercely. "This heavy brass lamp almost hit us, but if anything happens to my sisters or me, you'll never get your hands on the Baudelaire fortune."
"Dear me, dear me," Stephano said, his grimy teeth showing as he smiled. "If I wanted to harm you, orphan, your blood would already be pouring down these stairs like a waterfall. No, I'm not going to harm a hair on any Baudelaire
head-not here in this house. You needn't be afraid of me, little ones, until we find ourselves in a location where crimes are more difficult to trace."
"And where would that be?" Violet asked. "We plan to stay right here until we grow up."
"Really?" Stephano said, in that sneaky, sneaky voice. "Why, I had the impression we were leaving the country tomorrow."
"Uncle Monty tore up your ticket," Klaus replied triumphantly. "He was suspicious of you, so he changed his plans and now you're not going with us."
Stephano's smile turned into a scowl, and his stained teeth seemed to grow bigger. His eyes grew so shiny that it hurt Violet and Klaus to look at them. "I wouldn't rely on that," he said, in a terrible, terrible voice. "Even the best plans can change if there's an accident." He pointed one spiky finger at the brass reading lamp. "And accidents happen all the time."

Chapter Six

Bad circumstances have a way of ruining things that would otherwise be pleasant. So it was with the Baudelaire orphans and the movie Zombies in the Snow. All afternoon, the three children had sat and worried in the Reptile Room, under the mocking stare of Stephano and the oblivious-the word "oblivious" here means "not aware that Stephano was really Count Olaf and thus being in a great deal of danger" - chatter of Uncle Monty. So by the time it was evening, the siblings were in no mood for cinematic entertainment. Uncle Monty's jeep was really too small to hold him, Stephano and the three orphans, so Klaus and Violet shared a seat, and poor Sunny had to sit on Stephano's filthy lap, but the Baudelaires were too preoccupied to even notice their discomfort.
The children sat all in a row at the multiplex, with Uncle Monty to one side, while Stephano sat in the middle and hogged the popcorn. But the children were too anxious to eat any snacks, and too busy trying to figure out what Stephano planned to do to enjoy Zombies in the Snow, which was a fine film. When the zombies first rose out of the snowbanks surrounding the tiny Alpine fishing village, Violet tried to imagine a way in which Stephano could get aboard the Prospero without a ticket and accompany them to Peru. When the town fathers constructed a barrier of sturdy oak, only to have the zombies chomp their way through it, Klaus was concerned with exactly what Stephano had meant when he spoke about accidents. And when Gerta, the little milkmaid, made friends with the zombies and asked them to please stop eating the villagers, Sunny, who was of course scarcely old enough to comprehend the orphans' situation, tried to think up a way to defeat Stephano's plans, whatever they were. In the final scene of the movie, the zombies and villagers celebrated May Day together, but the three Baudelaire orphans were too nervous and afraid to enjoy themselves one bit. On the way home, Uncle Monty tried to talk to the silent, worried children sitting in the back, but they hardly said a word in reply and eventually he fell silent.
When the jeep pulled up to the snake-shaped hedges, the Baudelaire children dashed out and ran to the front door without even saying good night to their puzzled guardian. With heavy hearts they climbed the stairs to their bedrooms, but when they reached their doors they could not bear to part.
"Could we all spend the night in the same room?" Klaus asked Violet timidly. "Last night I felt as if I were in a jail cell, worrying all by myself."
"Me too," Violet admitted. "Since we're not going to sleep, we might as well not sleep in the same place."
"Tikko," Sunny agreed, and followed her siblings into Violet's room. Violet looked around the bedroom and remembered how excited she had been to move into it just a short while ago. Now, the enormous window with the view of the snake-shaped hedges seemed depressing rather than inspiring, and the blank pages tacked to her wall, rather than being convenient, seemed only to remind her of how anxious she was.
"I see you haven't worked much on your inventions," Klaus said gently. "I haven't been reading at all. When Count Olaf is around, it sure puts a damper on the imagination."
"Not always," Violet pointed out. "When we lived with him, you read all about nuptial law to find out about his plan, and I invented a grappling hook to put a stop to it."
"In this situation, though," Klaus said glumly, "we don't even know what Count Olaf is up to. How can we formulate a plan if we don't know his plan?"
"Well, let's try to hash this out," Violet said, using an expression which here means "talk about something at length until we completely understand it." "Count Olaf, calling himself Stephano, has come to this house in disguise and is obviously after the Baudelaire fortune."
"And," Klaus continued, "once he gets his hands on it, he plans to kill us."
"Tadu," Sunny murmured solemnly, which probably meant something along the lines of "It's a loathsome situation in which we find ourselves."
"However," Violet said,  "if he harms us, there's no way he can get to our fortune. That's why he tried to marry me last time."
"Thank God that didn't work," Klaus said, shivering. "Then Count Olaf would be my brother-in-law. But this time he's not planning to marry you. He said something about an accident."
"And about heading to a location where crimes are more difficult to trace," Violet said, remembering his words. "That must mean Peru. But Stephano isn't going to Peru. Uncle Monty tore up his ticket."
"Doog!" Sunny shrieked, in a generic cry of frustration, and pounded her little fist on the floor. The word "generic" here means "when one is unable to think of anything else to say," and Sunny was not alone in this. Violet and Klaus were of course too old to say things like "Doog!" but they wished they weren't. They wished they could figure out Count Olaf's plan. They wished their situation didn't seem as mysterious and hopeless as it did, and they wished they were young enough to simply shriek "Doog!" and pound their fists on the floor. And most of all, of course, they wished that their parents were alive and that the Baudelaires were all safe in the home where they had been born. And as fervently as the Baudelaire orphans wished their circumstances were different, I wish that I could somehow change the circumstances of this story for you. Even as I sit here, safe as can be and so very far from Count Olaf, I can scarcely bear to write another word. Perhaps it would be best if you shut this book right now and never read the rest of this horrifying story. You can imagine, if you wish, that an hour later, the Baudelaire orphans suddenly figured out what Stephano was up to and were able to save Uncle Monty's life. You can picture the police arriving with all their flashing lights and sirens, and dragging Stephano away to jail for the rest of his life. You can pretend, even though it is not so, that the Baudelaires are living happily with Uncle Monty to this day. Or best of all, you can conjure up the illusion that the Baudelaire parents have not been killed, and that the terrible fire and Count Olaf and Uncle Monty and all the other unfortunate events are nothing more than a dream, a figment of the imagination.
But this story is not a happy one, and I am not happy to tell you that the Baudelaire orphans sat dumbly in Violet's room-the word "dumbly" here means "without speaking," rather than "in a stupid way"-for the rest of the night. Had someone peeped through the bedroom window as the morning sun rose, they would have seen the three children huddled together on the bed, their eyes wide open and dark with worry. But nobody peeped through the window. Somebody knocked on the door, four loud knocks as if something were being nailed shut.
The children blinked and looked at one another. "Who is it?" Klaus called out, his voice crackly from being silent so long.
Instead of an answer, whoever it was simply turned the knob and the door swung slowly open. There stood Stephano, with his clothes all rumpled and his eyes shining brighter than they ever had before.
"Good morning," he said. "It's time to leave for Peru. There is just room for three orphans and myself in the jeep, so get a move on."
"We told you yesterday that you weren't going," Violet said. She hoped her voice sounded braver than she felt.
"It is your Uncle Monty who isn't going," Stephano said, and raised the part of his forehead where his eyebrow should have been.
"Don't be ridiculous," Klaus said. "Uncle Monty wouldn't miss this expedition for the world."
"Ask him," Stephano said, and the Baudelaires saw a familiar expression on his face. His mouth scarcely moved, but his eyes were shining as if he'd just told a joke. "Why don't you ask him? He's down in the Reptile Room."
"We will ask him," Violet said. "Uncle Monty has no intention of letting you take us to Peru alone." She rose from the bed, took the hands of her siblings, and walked quickly past Stephano who was smirking in the doorway. "We will ask him," Violet said again, and Stephano gave a little bow as the children walked out of the room.
The hallway was strangely quiet, and blank as the eyes of a skull. "Uncle Monty?" Violet called, at the end of the hallway. Nobody answered.
Aside from a few creaks on the steps, the whole house was eerily quiet, as if it had been deserted for many years. "Uncle Monty?" Klaus called, at the bottom of the stairs. They heard nothing.
Standing on tiptoe, Violet opened the enormous door of the Reptile Room and for a moment, the orphans stared into the room as if hypnotized, entranced by the odd blue light which the sunrise made as it shone through the glass ceiling and walls. In the dim glow, they could see only silhouettes of the various reptiles as they moved around in their cages, or slept, curled into shapeless dark masses.
Their footsteps echoing off the glimmering walls, the three siblings walked through the Reptile Room, toward the far end, where Uncle Monty's library lay waiting for them. Even though the dark room felt mysterious and strange, it was a comforting mystery, and a safe strangeness. They remembered Uncle Monty's promise: that if they took time to learn the facts, no harm would come to them here in the Reptile Room. However, you and I remember that Uncle Monty's promise was laden with dramatic irony, and now, here in the early-morning gloom of the Reptile Room, that irony was going to come to fruition, a phrase which here means "the Baudelaires were finally to learn of it." For just as they reached the books, the three siblings could see a large, shadowy mass huddled in the far corner. Nervously, Klaus switched on one of the reading lamps to get a better look.
The shadowy mass was Uncle Monty. His mouth was slightly agape, as if he were surprised, and his eyes were wide open, but he didn't appear to see them. His face, usually so rosy, was very, very pale, and under his left eye were two small holes, right in a line, the sort of mark made by the two fangs of a snake.
"Divo soom?" Sunny asked, and tugged at his pants leg. Uncle Monty did not move. As he had promised, no harm had come to the Baudelaire orphans in the Reptile Room, but great harm had come to Uncle Monty.

Chapter Seven

"My, my, my, my, my," said a voice from behind them, and the Baudelaire orphans turned to find Stephano standing there, the black suitcase with the shiny silver padlock in his hands and a look of brummagem surprise on his face. "Brummagem" is such a rare word for "fake" that even Klaus didn't know what it meant, but the children did not have to be told that Stephano was pretending to be surprised. "What a terrible accident has happened here. Snakebite. Whoever discovers this will be most upset."
"You-" Violet began to say, but her throat fluttered, as if the fact of Uncle Monty's death were food that tasted terrible. "You-" she said again.
Stephano took no notice. "Of course, after they discover that Dr. Montgomery is dead, they'll wonder what became of those repulsive orphans he had lying around the house. But they'll be long gone. Speaking of which, it's time to leave. The Prospero sails at five o'clock from Hazy Harbor and I'd like to be the first passenger aboard. That way I'll have time for a bottle of wine before lunch."
"How could you?" Klaus whispered hoarsely. He couldn't take his eyes off Uncle Monty's pale, pale face. "How could you do this? How could you murder him?"
"Why, Klaus, I'm surprised," Stephano said, and walked over to Uncle Monty's body. "A smarty-pants boy like you should be able to figure out that your chubby old uncle died from snakebite, not from murder. Look at those teeth marks. Look at his pale, pale face. Look at these staring eyes."
"Stop it!" Violet said. "Don't talk like that!"
"You're right!" Stephano said. "There's no time for chitchat! We have a ship to catch! Let's move!"
"We're not going anywhere with you," Klaus said. His face was pinched with the effort of focusing on their predicament rather than going to pieces. "We will stay here until the police come."
"And how do you suppose the police will know to come?" Stephano said.
"We will call them," Klaus said, in what he hoped was a firm tone of voice, and began to walk toward the door.
Stephano dropped his suitcase, the shiny silver padlock making a clattering sound as it hit the marble floor. He took a few steps and blocked Klaus's way, his eyes wide and red with fury. "I am so tired" Stephano snarled, "of having to explain everything to you. You're supposed to be so very smart, and yet you always seem to forget about this!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out the jagged knife. "This is my knife. It is very sharp and very eager to hurt you- almost as eager as I am. If you don't do what I say, you will suffer bodily harm. Is that clear enough for you? Now, get in the damn jeep."
It is, as you know, very, very rude and usually unnecessary to use profanity, but the Baudelaire orphans were too terrified to point this out to Stephano. Taking a last look at their poor Uncle Monty, the three children followed Stephano to the door of the Reptile Room to get in the damn jeep. To add insult to injury-a phrase which here means "forcing somebody to do an unpleasant task when they're already very upset"- Stephano forced Violet to carry his suitcase out of the house, but she was too lost in her own thoughts to care. She was remembering the last conversation she and her siblings had had with Uncle Monty, and thinking with a cold rush of shame that it hadn't really been a conversation at all. You will recall, of course, that on the ride home from seeing Zombies in the Snow, the children had been so worried about Stephano that they hadn't said a word to Uncle Monty, and that when the jeep had arrived at the house, the Baudelaire orphans had dashed upstairs to hash out the situation, without even saying good night to the man who now lay dead under a sheet in the Reptile Room. As the youngsters reached the jeep, Violet tried to remember if they had even thanked him for taking them to the movies, but the night was all a blur. She thought that she, Klaus, and Sunny had probably said "Thank you, Uncle Monty," when they were standing together at the ticket booth, but she couldn't be sure. Stephano opened the door of the jeep and gestured with the knife, ushering Klaus and Sunny into the tiny backseat and Violet, the black suitcase heavy on her lap, into the front seat beside him. The orphans had a brief hope that the engine would not start when Stephano turned the key in the ignition, but this was a futile hope. Uncle Monty took good care of his jeep, and it started right up.
Violet, Klaus, and Sunny looked behind them as Stephano began to drive alongside the snake-shaped hedges. At the sight of the Reptile Room, which Uncle Monty had filled so carefully with his specimens and in which he was now a sort of specimen himself, the weight of the Baudelaires' despair was too much for them and they quietly began to cry. It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things. The Baudelaire orphans were crying not only for their Uncle Monty, but for their own parents, and this dark and curious feeling of falling that accompanies any great loss.
What was to happen to them? Stephano had heartlessly slaughtered the man who was supposed to be watching over the Baudelaires, and now they were all alone. What would Stephano do to them? He was supposed to be left behind when they went to Peru, and now he would be leaving with them on the Prospero. And what terrible things would happen in Peru? Would anybody rescue them there? Would Stephano get his hands on the fortune? And what would happen to the three children afterward? These are frightening questions, and if you are thinking about such matters, they require your full attention, and the orphans were so immersed in thinking about them that they didn't realize that Stephano was about to collide with another automobile until the moment of impact.
There was a horrible tearing sound of metal and glass as a black car crashed into Uncle Monty's jeep, throwing the children to the floor with a jarring thump that felt as though it left the Baudelaire stomachs up on the seat. The black suitcase lurched into Violet's shoulder and then forward into the windshield, which immediately cracked in a dozen places so it looked like a spiderweb. Stephano gave a cry of surprise and turned the steering wheel this way and that, but the two vehicles were locked together and, with another thump, veered off the road into a small pile of mud. It is a rare occurrence when a car accident can be called a stroke of good fortune, but that was most certainly the case here. With the snake-shaped hedges still clearly visible behind them, the Baudelaires' journey toward Hazy Harbor had stopped.
Stephano gave another sharp cry, this one of rage. "Blasted furnaces of hell!" he shouted, as Violet rubbed her shoulder to make sure she wasn't seriously hurt. Klaus and Sunny got up cautiously from the jeep floor and looked out the cracked windshield. There appeared to be only one person in the other car, but it was hard to tell, as that vehicle had clearly suffered much more damage than Monty's jeep. Its entire front had pleated itself together, like an accordion, and one hubcap was spinning noisily on the pavement of Lousy Lane, making blurry circles as if it were a giant coin somebody had dropped. The driver was dressed in gray and making a rough hacking sound as he opened the crumpled door of the car and struggled his way out. He made the hacking sound again, and then reached into a pocket of his suit and pulled out a white handkerchief.
"It's Mr. Poe!" Klaus cried.
It was Mr. Poe, coughing away as usual, and the children were so delighted to see him that they found themselves smiling despite their horrible circumstances. "Mr. Poe! Mr. Poe!" Violet cried, reaching around Stephano's suitcase to open the passenger door.
Stephano reached out an arm and grabbed her sore shoulder, turning his head slowly so that each child saw his shiny eyes. "This changes nothing!" he hissed at them. "This is a bit of luck for you, but it is your last. The three of you will be back in this car with me and heading toward Hazy Harbor in time to catch the Prospero, I promise you."
"We'll see about that," Violet replied, opening the door and sliding out from beneath the suitcase. Klaus opened his door and followed her, carrying Sunny. "Mr. Poe! Mr. Poe!"
"Violet?" Mr. Poe asked. "Violet Baudelaire? Is that you?"
"Yes, Mr. Poe," Violet said. "It's all of us, and we're so grateful you ran into us like this."
"Well, I wouldn't say that," Mr. Poe said. "This was clearly the other driver's fault. You ran into me."
"How dare you!" Stephano shouted, and got out of the car himself, wrinkling his nose at the smell of horseradish that filled the air. He stomped over to where Mr. Poe was standing, but halfway there the children saw his face change from one of pure rage to one of brummagem confusion and sadness. "I'm sorry," he said, in a high, fluttery voice. "This whole thing is my fault. I'm so distressed by what has happened that I wasn't paying any attention to the rules of the road. I hope you're not hurt, Mr. Foe."
"It's Poe," Mr. Poe said. "My name is Poe. I'm not hurt. Luckily, it looks like nobody was hurt. I wish the same could be said for my car. But who are you and what are you doing with the Baudelaire children?"
"I'll tell you who he is," Klaus said. "He's-"
"Please, Klaus," Mr. Poe admonished, a word which here means "reprimanded Klaus even though he was interrupting for a very good reason." "It is not polite to interrupt."
"My name is Stephano," Stephano said, shaking Mr. Poe's hand. "I am-I mean I was- Dr. Montgomery's assistant."
"What do you mean was?" Mr. Poe asked sternly. "Were you fired?"
"No. Dr. Montgomery-oh, excuse me-" Stephano turned away and pretended to dab at his eyes as if he were too sad to continue. Facing away from Mr. Poe, he gave the orphans a big wink before continuing. "I'm sorry to tell you there's been a horrible accident, Mr. Doe. Dr. Montgomery is dead."
"Poe," Mr. Poe said. "He's dead? That's terrible. What has happened?"
"I don't know," Stephano said. "It looks like snakebite to me, but I don't know anything about snakes. That's why I was going into town, to get a doctor. The children seemed too upset to be left alone."
"He's not taking us to get a doctor!" Klaus shouted. "He's taking us to Peru!"
"You see what I mean?" Stephano said to Mr. Poe, patting Klaus's head. "The children are obviously very distressed. Dr. Montgomery was going to take them to Peru today."
"Yes, I know," Mr. Poe said. "That's why I hurried over here this morning, to finally bring them their luggage. Klaus, I know you're confused and upset over this accident, but please try to understand that if Dr. Montgomery is really dead, the expedition is canceled."
"But Mr. Poe-" Klaus said indignantly.
"Please," Mr. Poe said. "This is a matter for adults to discuss, Klaus. Clearly, a doctor needs to be called."
"Well, why don't you drive on up to the house," Stephano said, "and I'll take the children and find a doctor."
"Jose!" Sunny shrieked, which probably meant something like "No way!"
"Why don't we all go to the house," Mr. Poe said, "and call for a doctor?"
Stephano blinked, and for a second his face grew angry again before he was able to calm himself and answer smoothly. "Of course," he said. "I should have called earlier. Obviously I'm not thinking as clearly as you. Here, children, get back in the jeep, and Mr. Poe will follow us."
"We're not getting back in that car with you," Klaus said firmly.
"P/ease, Klaus," Mr. Poe said. "Try to understand. There's been a serious accident. All other discussions will have to be put aside. The only trouble is, I'm not sure my car will start. It's very smashed up."
"Try the ignition," Stephano said. Mr. Poe nodded, and walked back to his car. He sat in the driver's seat and turned the key. The engine made a rough, wet noise-it sounded quite a bit like Mr. Poe's coughs-but it did not start.
"I'm afraid the engine is quite dead," Mr. Poe called out.
"And before long," Stephano muttered to the children, "you will be too."
"I'm sorry," Mr. Poe said. "I couldn't hear you."
Stephano smiled. "I said, that's too bad. Well, why don't I take the orphans back to the house, and you walk behind us? There isn't room for everyone."
Mr. Poe frowned. "But the children's suitcases are here. I don't want to leave them unattended. Why don't we put the luggage into your car, and the children and I will walk back to the house?"
Stephano frowned. "Well, one of the children should ride with me, so I won't get lost."
Mr. Poe smiled. "But you can see the house from here. You won't get lost."
"Stephano doesn't want us to be alone with you," Violet said, finally speaking up. She had been waiting for the proper moment to make her case. "He's afraid that we'll tell you who he really is, and what he's really up to."
"What's she talking about?" Mr. Poe asked Stephano.
"I have no idea, Mr. Toe," Stephano replied, shaking his head and looking at Violet fiercely.
Violet took a deep breath. "This man is not Stephano," she said, pointing at him. "He's Count Olaf, and he's here to take us away."
"Who am I?" Stephano asked. "What am I doing?"
Mr. Poe looked Stephano up and down, and then shook his head. "Forgive the children," he said. "They are very upset. Count Olaf is a terrible man who tried to steal their money, and the youngsters are very frightened of him."
"Do I look like this Count Olaf?" Stephano asked, his eyes shining.
"No, you don't," Mr. Poe said. "Count Olaf had one long eyebrow, and a clean-shaven face. You have a beard, and if you don't mind my saying so, no eyebrows at all."
"He shaved his eyebrow," Violet said, "and grew a beard. Anyone can see that."
"And he has the tattoo!" Klaus cried. "The eye tattoo, on his ankle! Look at the tattoo!"
Mr. Poe looked at Stephano, and shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry to ask you this," he
said, "but the children seem so upset, and before we discuss anything further I'd like to set their minds at ease. Would you mind showing me your ankle?"
"I'd be happy to," Stephano said, giving the children a toothy smile. "Right or left?"
Klaus closed his eyes and thought for a second. "Left," he said.
Stephano placed his left foot on the bumper of Uncle Monty's jeep. Looking at the Baudelaire orphans with his shiny, shiny eyes, he began to raise the leg of his stained striped pants. Violet, Klaus, Sunny, and Mr. Poe all kept their eyes on Stephano's ankle.
The pant leg went up, like a curtain rising to begin a play. But there was no tattoo of an eye to be seen. The Baudelaire orphans stared at a patch of smooth skin, as blank and pale as poor Uncle Monty's face.