FINALLY THE event Vetta had been most looking forward to nearly the whole of that second day, the midnight procession, was set in motion. Robes were donned and everyone crowded into the dimly lit corridor at the head of the stairs. Thanks to the low light level and riotous behaviour of many of the excited first years Pirouette's specially treated robe managed to be overlooked in the bustle. Even the melodic rustling was successfully masked by the twins performing an impromptu slap fight which resumed every few seconds. Wisely the Perfectine kept herself discreetly hidden when the year head scanned over the girls to make sure they were ready, ensuring everyone had a lighted candle as they lined up to begin the procession.
'Girls,' she announced. 'We are about to take part in a ritual that has been held at Miss Plazenby's for over a hundred years. It symbolises those early days of education for girls in Frangea, those pioneering days when there were those who opposed feminine education for all they were worth. Thus the pupils of that challenging time dressed in robes similar to these, hiding girlish looks behind costumes that bespoke solemn dedication to the pursuit of knowledge above all things. We shall process along a fixed route, making a circuit of the school and when that is completed we shall throw off these garments and glory in our femininity with a loud cheer. Everyone ready? Then follow me.'
With that the stately woman, dressed in her own voluminous robe and holding an even bigger candle, marched down the stairs and along corridors through the confines of the building with the others in close and silent attendance, except for a slight melodic rustling most could not identify the origin of. They were of course the only girls allowed out after midnight because of the ritual, the other years being all tucked up in bed, though no doubt watching from windows whenever the procession, sparkling with its candles, passed outside for part of the journey.
Vetta, in spite of the draped hood, glanced this way and that in excitement at the solemnity and profound quiet of the dim surroundings. It was because of this eagerness to see everything that she noticed a figure appear to sneak in at a window while they crossed a long and winding corridor on the ground floor and tag along at the back of the group. Vetta shuddered, then sighed in relief when she saw they were dressed in similar robes. Then she shuddered again for the figure drifted to one side and picked up a silver statuette from a nearby pedestal as the line passed by, concealing it in her costume. It was at this point she noticed the fact the robes were shaded like those of Pirouette Wrangely.
'Thief!' someone suddenly shouted without warning before Vetta could investigate further and the procession broke up in chaos.
People ran this way and that and it was all the mistress could do to calm everyone down and reassemble the procession members.
'Who shouted out then?' she said sternly to the girls crowded together.
'I did miss, for I saw someone steal something,' and Anthera Malabona stood forth. Though in the same robes as the other girls, her large spectacles identified her readily.
The mistress was only half-listening for a quick head count made her realise one girl was missing.
'The culprit appears to have run off,' she said.
'No miss, she is among us still,' Anthera said dramatically and everyone gasped.
'Who?' and the mistress frowned.
'That one there miss. She took some silver thing from the corridor and hid it in her costume,' the sharp-eyed bespectacled girl from the Wonder dorm said, pointing. 'I recognise the different shade of her robes. She's not one of us.'
The year head pounced on the girl as everyone drew back from the accused figure. In a moment the gown was wrestled off her, revealing a protesting Pirouette Wrangely.
'What is the meaning of this?' the mistress said, beating out the robe and finding no purloined item within. The clothes of Pirouette underneath the robe did not conceal anything either.
'Perhaps she swallowed it,' Dolly suggested.
'Get her to cough,' someone else added.
While everyone seemed absorbed in this strange little drama, the forgotten missing girl was having her own adventure. The initial shock of the alarm had made Vetta scurry down a side corridor where she quickly found herself alone. She doubled back in fright, and there she saw as she returned, by the light of her wavering candle, a figure furtively clamber over a window sill and out into the night. Before the mysterious person had disappeared she popped her head back in to check if all was clear and her hood had fallen back. Her eyes fixed upon the affrighted Poldorama girl a moment, then she smiled, winked and finally was swallowed up by the darkness. Vetta did not recognise her, but she knew she would if she saw her again, for her hair was an astonishingly vivid blue in colour.