Then they heard “Clear the decks!” yelled in an excited voice, tinged with the hint of a French accent.
In accordance with their training, the young ladies scattered, running to the side or rolling away or, in Sophronia’s case, leaping over the railing to hang suspended on the outside of the deck. She did it with the ease of a girl overly familiar with balconies. Her leap and twist placed her staring back in at the deck, so she was in a perfect position to observe Vieve when she charged across it.
The young girl had strapped what looked like ice skates to her feet, only these had multiple wheels on them and some kind of tiny propeller. They were manipulated by a large ball Vieve clutched in one hand. She would tilt the ball to one side or the other to steer, somehow communicating with the skates wirelessly. The skates were firing at a much faster speed than anticipated. Vieve went bucketing all over the deck, weaving erratically from one side to the other, eventually crashing into the well-padded form of Sister Mattie.
Vieve tumbled backward onto her bony bottom. Unprotected by skirts and petticoats, she fell hard, her skate-covered feet sticking up into the air, the wheels still going furiously.
Sister Mattie also went backward, making an “oof” noise.
Sophronia was the first one at her side.
The nun was nonplussed at having been attacked by a small French cannonball. “Dear me, dear me, dear me. My goodness gracious! Who? What?”
Vieve remained lying on her back with feet in the air, apparently unable to turn off her contraptions. She said cheerfully, “What ho, Sister Mattie. Apologies. Only testing a new invention.”
Sophronia, solicitously, helped Sister Mattie to stand and brushed her off. “Are you all right, Sister?”
“Thank you very much, Miss Temminnick. Only surprised, not injured.”
“May I get you a glass of water or smelling salts?” Sophronia was fond of Sister Mattie.
“No, thank you, dear, very thoughtful.” The roly-poly teacher turned to glare at Vieve.
The other girls wandered back over. They surrounded the collapsed Vieve and stared down at her.
“You are a positive menace,” pronounced Monique.
“I don’t know why Lady Linette permits you on board,” added Preshea.
“Professor Lefoux is an able enough instructor, but that can hardly be worth your presence,” continued Monique.
“Useless creature,” said Preshea.
Vieve only looked up at them, lips pursed. Her green eyes were wide and shocked by this attack. She was accustomed to being ignored by the students.
Sophronia was having none of it. “Enough. Things go wrong with science. It’s the way of it. You’re hardly upset that class has been disturbed, so there’s no point in pretending you are.”
Preshea sputtered at this unexpected defense.
Monique was rarely at a loss for words. “Oh, ho! Sophronia appears to have herself a little pet.”
“Ladies!” Sister Mattie recovered her aplomb. “Enough.” She turned to Vieve. “Miss Lefoux, do get control of your shoes and take yourself elsewhere. You realize I will have to speak to your aunt about this incident?”
Sophronia wondered if that weren’t Vieve’s intent. Was she trying to make herself as inconvenient as possible? Perhaps to convince her aunt to let her infiltrate the boys’ school? After all, there were two other squeak decks, both vacant. She didn’t have to test her foot thingamabobs here.
“My sputter-skates,” corrected Vieve.
“What?”
“Sputter-skates, not shoes.”
Sophronia, delicately testing the waters, said, “They look like the kind of thing boys might appreciate.”
Vieve twinkled up at her. “Exactly.” She sat up, carefully balanced on her backside so the sputter-skates didn’t touch the deck. Then she reached down and pulled a small lever. The skates, true to their name, sputtered and died. The wheels stopped moving at last.
“I think,” said Vieve to no one in particular, “I ought to install a safety shutoff.”
“Do you indeed?” Dimity was droll.