Mr. Handy wrote:
"You must return," says Henry, recalling what Miss Rye had said to get them to obey before, "or Poppy will be displeased."
This evidently has the desired effect upon the two, as they begin to approach. However, before they are within arm's reach, the mists gather about them, so that they are obscured from view. This does not prevent their voices from being heard.
SunlessNick wrote:William will head in the direction of the Tarn, it being unclear what other lead he might follow.
In a short time he is able to observe the others upon the small isle, although it is not entirely clear what is happening. It is also not clear how one is to approach them, if so desired, given the fact that the only boat available docked upon the island as well. To what depth the waters of the Misty Tarn might reach is not obvious.
Vincent reaches his hand and the flame out to where the children were, speaking an incantation to Beguile whatever evil force is compelling them into obeying his will against theirs. "Let the children go, evil spirits."
Beguile results in a CHA check with +3 advantage = 12[dice]0[/dice]
The misty beings, if such they be, seem convinced by Vincent's words and manner that he is not one to be toyed with. They withdraw from the twins, moving together so as to form a sort of cloud-like barrier around the tree. The children join their rescuers, chattering away as if nothing untoward has occurred.
Once back at the boat, Vincent assists Georgina and the children aboard before picking up the oars again. He eyes the children sternly. "You two have some explaining to do, non?"
"If what I just saw is any indication, you have pinpointed the source of the problem," observes William drily upon their return. "I trust you and your sisters are unhurt," he adds to Georgina.
It seems that no harm has come to anyone, although Georgina is clearly in a state of anxiety.
On the way back to the manor home, the party runs into Harold and Henry just outside, engaged in a heated exchange of words, not yet audible to the witnesses. Harold directs a blow of his cane at the foundling, who dodges it, then extends a hand in a threatening manner, yet not touching his opponent, and chants something in a language which does not seem to be English, judging from its cadences.
"What is the meaning of this?" demands William, his gaze taking in both boys, but fixing harder on Henry. "Standing here fighting while your sisters were missing? You demean both them and yourselves with this display!"
Both young men face William, their evident animosity towards one another seemingly forgotten for the moment.
"This is none of your affair," Harold remarks coldly. "I must also point out that you have spent entirely too much time in the company of Georgina. She is a simple child, far too likely to be swayed by romantic fancies. If I may speak bluntly, I fear that your intentions are not yet proven entirely honorable."
"Georgina--" Henry begins.
"You will not address my sister in that familiar manner," Harold insists.
"Georgina," Henry continues, disregarding this command, "is a woman grown, able to speak for herself." Addressing her, he goes on. "Tell him that this posturing toy soldier means nothing to you. I have been patient with the playful dalliance between you two, but no longer. You must declare that you are mine and mine alone, before man and God."
Before the young woman, in evident distress, can make any answer, Harold lashes out with his cane, striking a glancing blow at the foundling.
"Never!"
Driven off by this attack, Henry rushes away, spitting out a final few words in the Gypsy tongue.
The twins, apparently finding this all very amusing, giggle and whisper together.
Harold seems ready to speak, but suddenly clutches his throat and collapses to the ground in a dead faint. Georgina rushes to him. He recovers his senses in a moment and sits up, apparently none the worse. This proves to be illusory, however, when he speaks.
"Where am I?" His voice is weak. "Who are you people?" He rises, and is taken somewhat aback when a weeping Georgina embraces him.
"Please calm yourself, Miss," he says. "Whatsoever your distress may be, such intimacy with a stranger is unseemly."