a series of unfortunate events -...

A Series of Unfortunate Events

BOOK the First

THE BAD BEGINNING

by LEMONY SNICKET

Illustrations by Brett Helquist

Dear Reader,

I’m sorry to say that the book you are holding in yourhands is extremely unpleasant. It tells an unhappy taleabout three very unlucky children. Even though they arecharming and clever, the Baudelaire siblings lead livesfilled with misery and woe. From the very first page ofthis book when the children are at the beach and receiveterrible news, continuing on through the entire story, dis-aster lurks at their heels. One might say they are magnetsfor misfortune.

In this short book alone, the three youngsters encountera greedy and repulsive villain, itchy clothing, a disastrousfire, a plot to steal their fortune, and cold porridge forbreakfast.

It is my sad duty to write down these unpleasant tales,but there is nothing stopping you from putting this bookdown at once and reading something happy, if you preferthat sort of thing.

With all due respect,

Lemony Snicket

To Beatrice—

darling, dearest, dead,

Contents

1

CHAPTER OneIf you are interested in stories with happyendings, you…

11CHAPTER TwoIt is useless for me to describe to you how…

27

CHAPTER ThreeI don’t know if you’ve ever noticed this, butfirst…

41

CHAPTER FourThe Baudelaire orphans copied the puttanescarecipe from the cookbook…

57

CHAPTER FiveUnless you have been very, very lucky, youhave undoubtedly…

71

CHAPTER SixThe next morning, when the children stumbledsleepily from their…

83

CHAPTER SevenThere are many, many types of books in theworld…

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CHAPTER EightKlaus stayed up all night reading, which wasnormally something…

iv

DEAR READER iii

TO BEATRICE—

103

CHAPTER Nine“Yes,” Count Olaf continued, “it certainly isstrange to find…

113

CHAPTER TenThat night, Klaus was the Baudelaire orphansleeping fitfully in…

123

CHAPTER Eleven“How pleasant that you could join us,” thehook-handed man…

133

CHAPTER TwelveAs Violet and Klaus Baudelaire stood, still intheir nightgown…

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CHAPTER Thirteen“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Count Olafsaid, stepping forward…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR ANDABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR

TO MY KIND EDITOR

CREDITS

COVER

COPYRIGHT

ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

CHAPTEROne

If you are interested in stories with happyendings, you would be better off readingsome other book. In this book, not only isthere no happy ending, there is no happybeginning and very few happy things in themiddle. This is because not very many happythings happened in the lives of the threeBaudelaire youngsters. Violet, Klaus, andSunny Baudelaire were intelligent children,and they were charming, and resourceful,and had pleasant facial features, but theywere extremely unlucky, and mosteverything that happened to them was rifewith misfortune, misery, and despair. I’msorry to tell you this, but that is how the storygoes.

Their misfortune began one day at BrinyBeach. The three Baudelaire children livedwith their parents in an enormous mansionat the heart of a dirty and busy city, and oc-casionally their parents gave them permissionto take a rickety trolley—the word “rickety,”you probably know, here means “unsteady”or “likely to collapse”—alone to the seashore,where they would spend the day as a sort ofvacation as long as they were home for din-ner. This particular morning it was gray andcloudy, which didn’t bother the Baudelaireyoungsters one bit. When it was hot andsunny, Briny Beach was crowded with tour-ists and it was impossible to find a good placeto lay one’s blanket. On gray and cloudydays, the Baudelaires had the beach tothemselves to do what they liked.

Violet Baudelaire, the eldest, liked to skiprocks. Like most fourteen-year-olds, she wasright-handed, so the rocks skipped fartheracross the murky water when Violet used herright hand than when she used her left. Asshe

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A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS

skipped rocks, she was looking out at thehorizon and thinking about an invention shewanted to build. Anyone who knew Violetwell could tell she was thinking hard, be-cause her long hair was tied up in a ribbonto keep it out of her eyes. Violet had a realknack for inventing and building strangedevices, so her brain was often filled withimages of pulleys, levers, and gears, and shenever wanted to be distracted by somethingas trivial as her hair. This morning she wasthinking about how to construct a device thatcould retrieve a rock after you had skippedit into the ocean.

Klaus Baudelaire, the middle child, andthe only boy, liked to examine creatures intide-pools. Klaus was a little older thantwelve and wore glasses, which made himlook intelligent. He was intelligent. TheBaudelaire parents had an enormous libraryin their mansion, a room filled with thou-sands of books on nearly every subject. Beingonly twelve, Klaus of course had not read allof the books in the Baudelaire

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THE BAD BEGINNING

library, but he had read a great many of themand had retained a lot of the informationfrom his readings. He knew how to tell analligator from a crocodile. He knew whokilled Julius Caesar. And he knew muchabout the tiny, slimy animals found at BrinyBeach, which he was examining now.

Sunny Baudelaire, the youngest, liked tobite things. She was an infant, and very smallfor her age, scarcely larger than a boot. Whatshe lacked in size, however, she made up forwith the size and sharpness of her four teeth.Sunny was at an age where one mostlyspeaks in a series of unintelligible shrieks.Except when she used the few actual wordsin her vocabulary, like “bottle,” “mommy,”and “bite,” most people had trouble under-standing what it was that Sunny was saying.For instance, this morning she was saying“Gack!” over and over, which probablymeant, “Look at that mysterious figureemerging from the fog!”

Sure enough, in the distance along themisty

4


shore of Briny Beach there could be seen atall figure striding toward the Baudelairechildren. Sunny had already been staring andshrieking at the figure for some time whenKlaus looked up from the spiny crab he wasexamining, and saw it too. He reached overand touched Violet’s arm, bringing her outof her inventing thoughts.

“Look at that,” Klaus said, and pointedtoward the figure. It was drawing closer, andthe children could see a few details. It wasabout the size of an adult, except its head wastall, and rather square.

“What do you think it is?” Violet asked.“I don’t know,” Klaus said, squinting at it,

“but it seems to be moving right toward us.”“We’re alone on the beach,” Violet said, a

little nervously. “There’s nobody else it couldbe moving toward.” She felt the slender,smooth stone in her left hand, which she hadbeen about to try to skip as far as she could.She had a sudden thought to throw it at thefigure, because it seemed so frightening.

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THE BAD BEGINNING

“It only seems scary,” Klaus said, as ifreading his sister’s thoughts, “because of allthe mist.”

This was true. As the figure reached them,the children saw with relief that it was notanybody frightening at all, but somebodythey knew: Mr. Poe. Mr. Poe was a friend ofMr. and Mrs. Baudelaire’s whom the childrenhad met many times at dinner parties. Oneof the things Violet, Klaus, and Sunny reallyliked about their parents was that they didn’tsend their children away when they hadcompany over, but allowed them to join theadults at the dinner table and participate inthe conversation as long as they helped clearthe table. The children remembered Mr. Poebecause he always had a cold and was con-stantly excusing himself from the table tohave a fit of coughing in the next room.

Mr. Poe took off his top hat, which hadmade his head look large and square in thefog, and stood for a moment, coughingloudly into a white handkerchief. Violet andKlaus moved

6


forward to shake his hand and say how doyou do.

“How do you do?” said Violet.“How do you do?” said Klaus.“Odo yow!” said Sunny.“Fine, thank you,” said Mr. Poe, but he

looked very sad. For a few seconds nobodysaid anything, and the children wonderedwhat Mr. Poe was doing there at Briny Beach,when he should have been at the bank in thecity, where he worked. He was not dressedfor the beach.

“It’s a nice day,” Violet said finally, makingconversation. Sunny made a noise thatsounded like an angry bird, and Klaus pickedher up and held her.

“Yes, it is a nice day,” Mr. Poe said ab-sently, staring out at the empty beach. “I’mafraid I have some very bad news for youchildren.”

The three Baudelaire siblings looked athim. Violet, with some embarrassment, feltthe stone in her left hand and was glad shehad not thrown it at Mr. Poe.

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THE BAD BEGINNING

“Your parents,” Mr. Poe said, “have per-ished in a terrible fire.”

The children didn’t say anything.“They perished,” Mr. Poe said, “in a fire

that destroyed the entire house. I’m very,very sorry to tell you this, my dears.”

Violet took her eyes off Mr. Poe and staredout at the ocean. Mr. Poe had never calledthe Baudelaire children “my dears” before.She understood the words he was saying butthought he must be joking, playing a terriblejoke on her and her brother and sister.

“‘Perished,’” Mr. Poe said, “means‘killed.’”

“We know what the word ‘perished’means,” Klaus said, crossly. He did knowwhat the word “perished” meant, but he wasstill having trouble understanding exactlywhat it was that Mr. Poe had said. It seemedto him that Mr. Poe must somehow havemisspoken.

“The fire department arrived, of course,”Mr. Poe said, “but they were too late. Theentire

8


house was engulfed in fire. It burned to theground.”

Klaus pictured all the books in the library,going up in flames. Now he’d never read allof them.

Mr. Poe coughed several times into hishandkerchief before continuing. “I was sentto retrieve you here, and to take you to myhome, where you’ll stay for some time whilewe figure things out. I am the executor ofyour parents’ estate. That means I will behandling their enormous fortune and figuringout where you children will go. When Violetcomes of age, the fortune will be yours, butthe bank will take charge of it until you areold enough.”

Although he said he was the executor, Vi-olet felt like Mr. Poe was the executioner. Hehad simply walked down the beach to themand changed their lives forever.

“Come with me,” Mr. Poe said, and heldout his hand. In order to take it, Violet hadto drop

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THE BAD BEGINNING

the stone she was holding. Klaus took Violet’sother hand, and Sunny took Klaus’s otherhand, and in that manner the threeBaudelaire children—the Baudelaire orphans,now—were led away from the beach andfrom their previous lives.

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CHAPTERTwo

It is useless for me to describe to you howterrible Violet, Klaus, and even Sunny felt inthe time that followed. If you have ever lostsomeone very important to you, then youalready know how it feels, and if you haven’t,you cannot possibly imagine it. For theBaudelaire children, it was of course espe-cially

terrible because they had lost both their par-ents at the same time, and for several daysthey felt so miserable they could scarcely getout of bed. Klaus found he had little interestin books. The gears in Violet’s inventive brainseemed to stop. And even Sunny, who ofcourse was too young to really understandwhat was going on, bit things with less enthu-siasm.

Of course, it didn’t make things any easierthat they had lost their home as well, and alltheir possessions. As I’m sure you know, tobe in one’s own room, in one’s own bed, canoften make a bleak situation a little better,but the beds of the Baudelaire orphans hadbeen reduced to charred rubble. Mr. Poe hadtaken them to the remains of the Baudelairemansion to see if anything had been un-harmed, and it was terrible: Violet’s micro-scope had fused together in the heat of thefire, Klaus’s favorite pen had turned to ash,and all of Sunny’s teething rings had melted.Here and there, the children could see tracesof the enormous home

12


they had loved: fragments of their grand pi-ano, an elegant bottle in which Mr.Baudelaire kept brandy, the scorched cushionof the windowseat where their mother likedto sit and read.

Their home destroyed, the Baudelaires hadto recuperate from their terrible loss in thePoe household, which was not at all agree-able. Mr. Poe was scarcely at home, becausehe was very busy attending to the Baudelaireaffairs, and when he was home he was oftencoughing so much he could barely have aconversation. Mrs. Poe purchased clothingfor the orphans that was in grotesque colors,and itched. And the two Poe children—Edgarand Albert—were loud and obnoxious boyswith whom the Baudelaires had to share atiny room that smelled of some sort of ghastlyflower.

But even given the surroundings, the chil-dren had mixed feelings when, over a dulldinner of boiled chicken, boiled potatoes andblanched—the word “blanched” here means“boiled”—string beans, Mr. Poe announcedthat

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THE BAD BEGINNING

they were to leave his household the nextmorning.

“Good,” said Albert, who had a piece ofpotato stuck between his teeth. “Now we canget our room back. I’m tired of sharing it.Violet and Klaus are always moping around,and are never any fun.”

“And the baby bites,” Edgar said, tossinga chicken bone to the floor as if he were ananimal in a zoo and not the son of a well-re-spected member of the banking community.

“Where will we go?” Violet askednervously.

Mr. Poe opened his mouth to say some-thing, but erupted into a brief fit of coughing.“I have made arrangements,” he said finally,“for you to be raised by a distant relative ofyours who lives on the other side of town.His name is Count Olaf.”

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny looked at oneanother, unsure of what to think. On onehand, they didn’t want to live with the Poesany

14


longer. On the other hand, they had neverheard of Count Olaf and didn’t know whathe would be like.

“Your parents’ will,” Mr. Poe said, “in-structs that you be raised in the most conveni-ent way possible. Here in the city, you’ll beused to your surroundings, and this CountOlaf is the only relative who lives within theurban limits.”

Klaus thought this over for a minute as heswallowed a chewy bit of bean. “But ourparents never mentioned Count Olaf to us.Just how is he related to us, exactly?”

Mr. Poe sighed and looked down at Sunny,who was biting a fork and listening closely.“He is either a third cousin four times re-moved, or a fourth cousin three times re-moved. He is not your closest relative on thefamily tree, but he is the closest geographic-ally. That’s why—”

“If he lives in the city,” Violet said, “whydidn’t our parents ever invite him over?”

“Possibly because he was very busy,” Mr.Poe

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THE BAD BEGINNING

said. “He’s an actor by trade, and oftentravels around the world with various theatercompanies.”

“I thought he was a count,” Klaus said.“He is both a count and an actor,” Mr. Poe

said. “Now, I don’t mean to cut short ourdinner, but you children have to pack upyour things, and I have to return to the bankto do some more work. Like your new legalguardian, I am very busy myself.”

The three Baudelaire children had manymore questions for Mr. Poe, but he hadalready stood up from the table, and with aslight wave of his hand departed from theroom. They heard him coughing into hishandkerchief and then the front door creakedshut as he left the house.

“Well,” Mrs. Poe said, “you three had bet-ter start packing. Edgar, Albert, please helpme clear the table.”

The Baudelaire orphans went to the bed-room and glumly packed their few belong-ings. Klaus

16


looked distastefully at each ugly shirt Mrs.Poe had bought for him as he folded themand put them into a small suitcase. Violetlooked around the cramped, smelly room inwhich they had been living. And Sunnycrawled around solemnly biting each ofEdgar and Albert’s shoes, leaving small teethmarks in each one so she would not be forgot-ten. From time to time, the Baudelaire chil-dren looked at one another, but with theirfuture such a mystery they could think ofnothing to say. At bedtime, they tossed andturned all night, scarcely getting any sleepbetween the loud snoring of Edgar and Al-bert and their own worried thoughts. Finally,Mr. Poe knocked on the door and stuck hishead into the bedroom.

“Rise and shine, Baudelaires,” he said. “It’stime for you to go to Count Olaf’s.”

Violet looked around the crowded bed-room, and even though she didn’t like it, shefelt very nervous about leaving. “Do we haveto go right this minute?” she asked.

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THE BAD BEGINNING

Mr. Poe opened his mouth to speak, buthad to cough a few times before he began.“Yes you do. I’m dropping you off on myway to the bank, so we need to leave as soonas possible. Please get out of bed and getdressed,” he said briskly. The word “briskly”here means “quickly, so as to get theBaudelaire children to leave the house.”

The Baudelaire children left the house. Mr.Poe’s automobile rumbled along the cobble-stone streets of the city toward the neighbor-hood where Count Olaf lived. They passedhorse-drawn carriages and motorcycles alongDoldrum Drive. They passed the FickleFountain, an elaborately carved monumentthat occasionally spat out water in whichyoung children played. They passed anenormous pile of dirt where the Royal Gar-dens once stood. Before too long, Mr. Poedrove his car down a narrow alley lined withhouses made of pale brick and stopped half-way down the block.

“Here we are,” Mr. Poe said, in a voice

18


undoubtedly meant to be cheerful. “Yournew home.”

The Baudelaire children looked out andsaw the prettiest house on the block. Thebricks had been cleaned very well, andthrough the wide and open windows onecould see an assortment of well-groomedplants. Standing in the doorway, with herhand on the shiny brass doorknob, was anolder woman, smartly dressed, who wassmiling at the children. In one hand she car-ried a flowerpot.

“Hello there!” she called out. “You mustbe the children Count Olaf is adopting.”

Violet opened the door of the automobileand got out to shake the woman’s hand. Itfelt firm and warm, and for the first time ina long while Violet felt as if her life and thelives of her siblings might turn out well afterall. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, we are. I am VioletBaudelaire, and this is my brother Klaus andmy sister Sunny. And this is Mr. Poe, whohas been arranging things for us since thedeath of our parents.”

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THE BAD BEGINNING

“Yes, I heard about the accident,” the wo-man said, as everyone said how do you do.“I am Justice Strauss.”

“That’s an unusual first name,” Klaus re-marked.

“It is my title,” she explained, “not my firstname. I serve as a judge on the High Court.”

“How fascinating,” Violet said. “And areyou married to Count Olaf?”

“Goodness me no,” Justice Strauss said. “Idon’t actually know him that well. He is mynext-door neighbor.”

The children looked from the well-scrubbed house of Justice Strauss to thedilapidated one next door. The bricks werestained with soot and grime. There were onlytwo small windows, which were closed withthe shades drawn even though it was a niceday. Rising above the windows was a talland dirty tower that tilted slightly to the left.The front door needed to be repainted, andcarved in the middle of it was an

20


image of an eye. The entire building saggedto the side, like a crooked tooth.

“Oh!” said Sunny, and everyone knewwhat she meant. She meant, “What a terribleplace! I don’t want to live there at all!”

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” Violet saidto Justice Strauss.

“Yes,” said Justice Strauss, gesturing to herflowerpot. “Perhaps one day you could comeover and help me with my gardening.”

“That would be very pleasant,” Violet said,very sadly. It would, of course, be verypleasant to help Justice Strauss with hergardening, but Violet could not help thinkingthat it would be far more pleasant to live inJustice Strauss’s house, instead of CountOlaf’s. What kind of a man, Violet wondered,would carve an image of an eye into his frontdoor?

Mr. Poe tipped his hat to Justice Strauss,who smiled at the children and disappearedinto her lovely house. Klaus stepped forwardand

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THE BAD BEGINNING

knocked on Count Olaf’s door, his knucklesrapping right in the middle of the carved eye.There was a pause, and then the door creakedopen and the children saw Count Olaf for thefirst time.

“Hello hello hello,” Count Olaf said in awheezy whisper. He was very tall and verythin, dressed in a gray suit that had manydark stains on it. His face was unshaven, andrather than two eyebrows, like most humanbeings have, he had just one long one. Hiseyes were very, very shiny, which made himlook both hungry and angry. “Hello, mychildren. Please step into your new home,and wipe your feet outside so no mud getsindoors.”

As they stepped into the house, Mr. Poebehind them, the Baudelaire orphans realizedwhat a ridiculous thing Count Olaf had justsaid. The room in which they found them-selves was the dirtiest they had ever seen,and a little bit of mud from outdoorswouldn’t have made a bit

22


of difference. Even by the dim light of theone bare lightbulb that hung from the ceiling,the three children could see that everythingin this room was filthy, from the stuffed headof a lion which was nailed to the wall to thebowl of apple cores which sat on a smallwooden table. Klaus willed himself not tocry as he looked around.

“This room looks like it needs a littlework,” Mr. Poe said, peering around in thegloom.

“I realize that my humble home isn’t asfancy as the Baudelaire mansion,” Count Olafsaid, “but perhaps with a bit of your moneywe could fix it up a little nicer.”

Mr. Poe’s eyes widened in surprise, andhis coughs echoed in the dark room beforehe spoke. “The Baudelaire fortune,” he saidsternly, “will not be used for such matters.In fact, it will not be used at all, until Violetis of age.”

Count Olaf turned to Mr. Poe with a glintin his eye like an angry dog. For a momentViolet thought he was going to strike Mr. Poeacross

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THE BAD BEGINNING

the face. But then he swallowed—the childrencould see his Adam’s apple bob in his skinnythroat—and shrugged his patchy shoulders.

“All right then,” he said. “It’s the same tome. Thank you very much, Mr. Poe, forbringing them here. Children, I will nowshow you to your room.”

“Good-bye, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny,” Mr.Poe said, stepping back through the frontdoor. “I hope you will be very happy here. Iwill continue to see you occasionally, andyou can always contact me at the bank if youhave any questions.”

“But we don’t even know where the bankis,” Klaus said.

“I have a map of the city,” Count Olaf said.“Good-bye, Mr. Poe.”

He leaned forward to shut the door, andthe Baudelaire orphans were too overcomewith despair to get a last glimpse of Mr. Poe.They now wished they could all stay at thePoe household, even though it smelled.Rather than looking at

24


the door, then, the orphans looked down,and saw that although Count Olaf waswearing shoes, he wasn’t wearing any socks.They could see, in the space of pale skinbetween his tattered trouser cuff and hisblack shoe, that Count Olaf had an image ofan eye tattooed on his ankle, matching theeye on his front door. They wondered howmany other eyes were in Count Olaf’s house,and whether, for the rest of their lives, theywould always feel as though Count Olaf werewatching them even when he wasn’t nearby.

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THE BAD BEGINNING

CHAPTERThree

I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed this, butfirst impressions are often entirely wrong.You can look at a painting for the first time,for example, and not like it at all, but afterlooking at it a little longer you may find itvery pleasing. The first time you try Gor-gonzola cheese you may find it too strong,but when you are older you may want to eatnothing but Gorgonzola cheese. Klaus, whenSunny was born, did not like her at all, butby the time she was six weeks

old the two of them were thick as thieves.Your initial opinion on just about anythingmay change over time.

I wish I could tell you that the Baudelaires’first impressions of Count Olaf and his housewere incorrect, as first impressions so oftenare. But these impressions—that Count Olafwas a horrible person, and his house a de-pressing pigsty—were absolutely correct.During the first few days after the orphans’arrival at Count Olaf’s, Violet, Klaus, andSunny attempted to make themselves feel athome, but it was really no use. Even thoughCount Olaf’s house was quite large, the threechildren were placed together in one filthybedroom that had only one small bed in it.Violet and Klaus took turns sleeping in it, sothat every other night one of them was in thebed and the other was sleeping on the hardwooden floor, and the bed’s mattress was solumpy it was difficult to say who was moreuncomfortable. To make a bed for Sunny,Violet removed the dusty curtains from

28


the curtain rod that hung over the bedroom’sone window and bunched them together toform a sort of cushion, just big enough forher sister. However, without curtains overthe cracked glass, the sun streamed throughthe window every morning, so the childrenwoke up early and sore each day. Instead ofa closet, there was a large cardboard box thathad once held a refrigerator and would nowhold the three children’s clothes, all piled ina heap. Instead of toys, books, or other thingsto amuse the youngsters, Count Olaf hadprovided a small pile of rocks. And the onlydecoration on the peeling walls was a largeand ugly painting of an eye, matching theone on Count Olaf’s ankle and all over thehouse.

But the children knew, as I’m sure youknow, that the worst surroundings in theworld can be tolerated if the people in themare interesting and kind. Count Olaf wasneither interesting nor kind; he was demand-ing, short-tempered, and bad-smelling. Theonly good thing to be

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THE BAD BEGINNING

said for Count Olaf is that he wasn’t aroundvery often. When the children woke up andchose their clothing out of the refrigeratorbox, they would walk into the kitchen andfind a list of instructions left for them byCount Olaf, who would often not appearuntil nighttime. Most of the day he spent outof the house, or up in the high tower, wherethe children were forbidden to go. The in-structions he left for them were usually diffi-cult chores, such as repainting the back porchor repairing the windows, and instead of asignature Count Olaf would draw an eye atthe bottom of the note.

One morning his note read, “My theatertroupe will be coming for dinner before to-night’s performance. Have dinner ready forall ten of them by the time they arrive atseven o’clock. Buy the food, prepare it, setthe table, serve dinner, clean up afterwards,and stay out of our way.” Below that therewas the usual eye, and underneath the notewas a small sum of money for the groceries.

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Violet and Klaus read the note as they atetheir breakfast, which was a gray and lumpyoatmeal Count Olaf left for them each morn-ing in a large pot on the stove. Then theylooked at each other in dismay.

“None of us knows how to cook,” Klaussaid.

“That’s true,” Violet said. “I knew how torepair those windows, and how to clean thechimney, because those sorts of things in-terest me. But I don’t know how to cookanything except toast.”

“And sometimes you burn the toast,”Klaus said, and they smiled. They were bothremembering a time when the two of themgot up early to make a special breakfast fortheir parents. Violet had burned the toast,and their parents, smelling smoke, had rundownstairs to see what the matter was. Whenthey saw Violet and Klaus, looking forlornlyat pieces of pitch-black toast, they laughedand laughed, and then made pancakes forthe whole family.

“I wish they were here,” Violet said. Shedid

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THE BAD BEGINNING

not have to explain she was talking abouttheir parents. “They would never let us stayin this dreadful place.”

“If they were here,” Klaus said, his voicerising as he got more and more upset, “wewould not be with Count Olaf in the firstplace. I hate it here, Violet! I hate this house!I hate our room! I hate having to do all thesechores, and I hate Count Olaf!”

“I hate it too,” Violet said, and Klauslooked at his older sister with relief. Some-times, just saying that you hate something,and having someone agree with you, canmake you feel better about a terrible situ-ation. “I hate everything about our lives rightnow, Klaus,” she said, “but we have to keepour chin up.” This was an expression thechildren’s father had used, and it meant “tryto stay cheerful.”

“You’re right,” Klaus said. “But it is verydifficult to keep one’s chin up when CountOlaf keeps shoving it down.”

“Jook!” Sunny shrieked, banging on thetable

32


with her oatmeal spoon. Violet and Klauswere jerked out of their conversation andlooked once again at Count Olaf’s note.

“Perhaps we could find a cookbook, andread about how to cook,” Klaus said. “Itshouldn’t be that difficult to make a simplemeal.”

Violet and Klaus spent several minutesopening and shutting Count Olaf’s kitchencupboards, but there weren’t any cookbooksto be found.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Violet said.“We haven’t found any books in this houseat all.”

“I know, “Klaus said miserably. “I missreading very much. We must go out and lookfor a library sometime soon.”

“But not today,” Violet said. “Today wehave to cook for ten people.”

At that moment there was a knock on thefront door. Violet and Klaus looked at oneanother nervously.

“Who in the world would want to visitCount Olaf?” Violet wondered out loud.

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THE BAD BEGINNING

“Maybe somebody wants to visit us,”Klaus said, without much hope. In the timesince the Baudelaire parents’ death, most ofthe Baudelaire orphans’ friends had fallenby the wayside, an expression which heremeans “they stopped calling, writing, andstopping by to see any of the Baudelaires,making them very lonely.” You and I, ofcourse, would never do this to any of ourgrieving acquaintances, but it is a sad truthin life that when someone has lost a lovedone, friends sometimes avoid the person, justwhen the presence of friends is most needed.

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny walked slowlyto the front door and peered through thepeephole, which was in the shape of an eye.They were delighted to see Justice Strausspeering back at them, and opened the door.

“Justice Strauss!” Violet cried. “How lovelyto see you.” She was about to add, “Do comein,” but then she realized that Justice Strausswould probably not want to venture into thedim and dirty room.

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“Please forgive me for not stopping bysooner,” Justice Strauss said, as theBaudelaires stood awkwardly in the door-way. “I wanted to see how you children weresettling in, but I had a very difficult case inthe High Court and it was taking up muchof my time.”

“What sort of case was it?” Klaus asked.Having been deprived of reading, he washungry for new information.

“I can’t really discuss it,” Justice Strausssaid, “because it’s official business. But I cantell you it concerns a poisonous plant and il-legal use of someone’s credit card.”

“Yeeka!” Sunny shrieked, which appearedto mean “How interesting!” although ofcourse there is no way that Sunny could un-derstand what was being said.

Justice Strauss looked down at Sunny andlaughed. “Yeeka indeed,” she said, andreached down to pat the child on the head.Sunny took Justice Strauss’s hand and bit it,gently.

“That means she likes you,” Violet ex-plained.

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THE BAD BEGINNING

“She bites very, very hard if she doesn’t likeyou, or if you want to give her a bath.”

“I see,” Justice Strauss said. “Now then,how are you children getting on? Is thereanything you desire?”

The children looked at one another, think-ing of all the things they desired. Anotherbed, for example. A proper crib for Sunny.Curtains for the window in their room. Acloset instead of a cardboard box. But whatthey desired most of all, of course, was notto be associated with Count Olaf in any waywhatsoever. What they desired most was tobe with their parents again, in their truehome, but that, of course, was impossible.Violet, Klaus, and Sunny all looked down atthe floor unhappily as they considered thequestion. Finally, Klaus spoke.

“Could we perhaps borrow a cookbook?”he said. “Count Olaf has instructed us tomake dinner for his theater troupe tonight,and we can’t find a cookbook in the house.”

“Goodness,” Justice Strauss said. “Cooking

36


dinner for an entire theater troupe seems likea lot to ask of children.”

“Count Olaf gives us a lot of responsibil-ity,” Violet said. What she wanted to say was,“Count Olaf is an evil man,” but she was wellmannered.

“Well, why don’t you come next door tomy house,” Justice Strauss said, “and find acookbook that pleases you?”

The youngsters agreed, and followedJustice Strauss out the door and over to herwell-kept house. She led them through anelegant hallway smelling of flowers into anenormous room, and when they saw whatwas inside, they nearly fainted from delight,Klaus especially.

The room was a library. Not a public lib-rary, but a private library; that is, a largecollection of books belonging to JusticeStrauss. There were shelves and shelves ofthem, on every wall from the floor to theceiling, and separate shelves and shelves ofthem in the middle of the room. The onlyplace there weren’t books was in one corner,where there were some large,

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THE BAD BEGINNING

comfortable-looking chairs and a woodentable with lamps hanging over them, perfectfor reading. Although it was not as big astheir parents’ library, it was as cozy, and theBaudelaire children were thrilled.

“My word!” Violet said. “This is a wonder-ful library!”

“Thank you very much,” Justice Strausssaid. “I’ve been collecting books for years,and I’m very proud of my collection. As longas you keep them in good condition, you arewelcome to use any of my books, at any time.Now, the cookbooks are over here on theeastern wall. Shall we have a look at them?”

“Yes,” Violet said, “and then, if you don’tmind, I should love to look at any of yourbooks concerning mechanical engineering.Inventing things is a great interest of mine.”

“And I would like to look at books onwolves,” Klaus said. “Recently I have beenfascinated by the subject of wild animals ofNorth America.”

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“Book!” Sunny shrieked, which meant“Please don’t forget to pick out a picture bookfor me.”

Justice Strauss smiled. “It is a pleasure tosee young people interested in books,” shesaid. “But first I think we’d better find a goodrecipe, don’t you?”

The children agreed, and for thirty minutesor so they perused several cookbooks thatJustice Strauss recommended. To tell you thetruth, the three orphans were so excited tobe out of Count Olaf’s house, and in thispleasant library, that they were a little distrac-ted and unable to concentrate on cooking.But finally Klaus found a dish that soundeddelicious, and easy to make.

“Listen to this,” he said. “‘Puttanesca.’ It’san Italian sauce for pasta. All we need to dois sauté olives, capers, anchovies, garlic,chopped parsley, and tomatoes together ina pot, and prepare spaghetti to go with it.”

“That sounds easy,” Violet agreed, and the

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THE BAD BEGINNING

Baudelaire orphans looked at one another.Perhaps, with the kind Justice Strauss andher library right next door, the children couldprepare pleasant lives for themselves as eas-ily as making puttanesca sauce for CountOlaf.

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CHAPTERFour

The Baudelaire orphans copied the puttanescarecipe from the cookbook onto a piece ofscrap paper, and Justice Strauss was kindenough to escort them to the market to buythe necessary ingredients. Count Olaf hadnot left them very much money, but thechildren were able to buy everything theyneeded. From a street vendor, they purchasedolives after tasting several

varieties and choosing their favorites. At apasta store they selected interestingly shapednoodles and asked the woman running thestore the proper amount for thirteenpeople—the ten people Count Olaf men-tioned, and the three of them. Then, at thesupermarket, they purchased garlic, whichis a sharp-tasting bulbous plant; anchovies,which are small salty fish; capers, which areflower buds of a small shrub and taste mar-velous; and tomatoes, which are actuallyfruits and not vegetables as most people be-lieve. They thought it would be proper toserve dessert, and bought several envelopesof pudding mix. Perhaps, the orphansthought, if they made a delicious meal, CountOlaf might be a bit kinder to them.

“Thank you so much for helping us outtoday,” Violet said, as she and her siblingswalked home with Justice Strauss. “I don’tknow what we would have done withoutyou.”

“You seem like very intelligent people,”Justice Strauss said. “I daresay you wouldhave

42


thought of something. But it continues tostrike me as odd that Count Olaf has askedyou to prepare such an enormous meal. Well,here we are. I must go inside and put my owngroceries away. I hope you children willcome over soon and borrow books from mylibrary.”

“Tomorrow?” Klaus said quickly. “Couldwe come over tomorrow?”

“I don’t see why not,” Justice Strauss said,smiling.

“I can’t tell you how much we appreciatethis,” Violet said, carefully. With their kindparents dead and Count Olaf treating themso abominably, the three children were notused to kindness from adults, and weren’tsure if they were expected to do anythingback. “Tomorrow, before we use your libraryagain, Klaus and I would be more than happyto do household chores for you. Sunny isn’treally old enough to work, but I’m sure wecould find some way she could help you.”

Justice Strauss smiled at the three children,

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THE BAD BEGINNING

but her eyes were sad. She reached out ahand and put it on Violet’s hair, and Violetfelt more comforted than she had in sometime. “That won’t be necessary,” JusticeStrauss said. “You are always welcome in myhome.” Then she turned and went into herhome, and after a moment of staring afterher, the Baudelaire orphans went into theirs.

For most of the afternoon, Violet, Klaus,and Sunny cooked the puttanesca sauce ac-cording to the recipe. Violet roasted the garlicand washed and chopped the anchovies.Klaus peeled the tomatoes and pitted theolives. Sunny banged on a pot with a woodenspoon, singing a rather repetitive song shehad written herself. And all three of the chil-dren felt less miserable than they had sincetheir arrival at Count Olaf’s. The smell ofcooking food is often a calming one, and thekitchen grew cozy as the sauce simmered, aculinary term which means “cooked over lowheat.” The three orphans spoke of pleasant

44


memories of their parents and about JusticeStrauss, who they agreed was a wonderfulneighbor and in whose library they plannedto spend a great deal of time. As they talked,they mixed and tasted the chocolate pudding.

Just as they were placing the pudding inthe refrigerator to cool, Violet, Klaus, andSunny heard a loud, booming sound as thefront door was flung open, and I’m sure Idon’t have to tell you who was home.

“Orphans?” Count Olaf called out in hisscratchy voice. “Where are you, orphans?”

“In the kitchen, Count Olaf,” Klaus called.“We’re just finishing dinner.”

“You’d better be,” Count Olaf said, andstrode into the kitchen. He gazed at all threeBaudelaire children with his shiny, shinyeyes. “My troupe is right behind me and theyare very hungry. Where is the roast beef?”

“We didn’t make roast beef,” Violet said.“We made puttanesca sauce.”

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THE BAD BEGINNING

“What?” Count Olaf asked. “No roastbeef?”

“You didn’t tell us you wanted roast beef,”Klaus said.

Count Olaf slid toward the children so thathe looked even taller than he was. His eyesgrew even brighter, and his one eyebrowraised in anger. “In agreeing to adopt you,”he said, “I have become your father, and asyour father I am not someone to be trifledwith. I demand that you serve roast beef tomyself and my guests.”

“We don’t have any!” Violet cried. “Wemade puttanesca sauce!”

“No! No! No!” Sunny shouted.Count Olaf looked down at Sunny, who

had spoken so suddenly. With an inhumanroar he picked her up in one scraggly handand raised her so she was staring at him inthe eye. Needless to say, Sunny was veryfrightened and began crying immediately,too scared to even try to bite the hand thatheld her.

“Put her down immediately, you beast!”

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Klaus shouted. He jumped up, trying to res-cue Sunny from the grasp of the Count, buthe was holding her too high to reach. CountOlaf looked down at Klaus and smiled a ter-rible, toothy grin, raising the wailing Sunnyup even higher in the air. He seemed aboutto drop her to the floor when there was alarge burst of laughter in the next room.

“Olaf! Where’s Olaf?” voices called out.Count Olaf paused, still holding the wailingSunny up in the air, as members of histheater troupe walked into the kitchen. Soonthey were crowding the room—an assort-ment of strange-looking characters of allshapes and sizes. There was a bald man witha very long nose, dressed in a long black robe.There were two women who had brightwhite powder all over their faces, makingthem look like ghosts. Behind the womenwas a man with very long and skinny arms,at the end of which were two hooks insteadof hands. There was a person who was ex-tremely fat, and who looked like neither a

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THE BAD BEGINNING

man nor a woman. And behind this person,standing in the doorway, were an assortmentof people the children could not see but whopromised to be just as frightening.

“Here you are, Olaf,” said one of the white-faced women. “What in the world are youdoing?”

“I’m just disciplining these orphans,”Count Olaf said. “I asked them to make din-ner, and all they have made is some disgust-ing sauce.”

“You can’t go easy on children,” the manwith the hook-hands said. “They must betaught to obey their elders.”

The tall, bald man peered at the young-sters. “Are these,” he said to Count Olaf,“those wealthy children you were telling meabout?”

“Yes,” Count Olaf said. “They are so awfulI can scarcely stand to touch them.” Withthat, he lowered Sunny, who was still wail-ing, to the floor. Violet and Klaus breathed asigh of relief that he had not dropped herfrom that great height.

“I don’t blame you,” said someone in thedoorway.

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Count Olaf rubbed his hands together asif he had been holding something revoltinginstead of an infant. “Well, enough talk,” hesaid. “I suppose we will eat their dinner, eventhough it is all wrong. Everyone, follow meto the dining room and I will pour us somewine. Perhaps by the time these brats serveus, we will be too drunk to care if it is roastbeef or not.”

“Hurrah!” cried several members of thetroupe, and they marched through the kit-chen, following Count Olaf into the diningroom. Nobody paid a bit of attention to thechildren, except for the bald man, whostopped and stared Violet in the eye.

“You’re a pretty one,” he said, taking herface in his rough hands. “If I were you Iwould try not to anger Count Olaf, or hemight wreck that pretty little face of yours.”Violet shuddered, and the bald man gave ahigh-pitched giggle and left the room.

The Baudelaire children, alone in the kit-chen, found themselves breathing heavily,as if they

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THE BAD BEGINNING

had just run a long distance. Sunny continuedto wail, and Klaus found that his eyes werewet with tears as well. Only Violet didn’t cry,but merely trembled with fear and revulsion,a word which here means “an unpleasantmixture of horror and disgust.” For severalmoments none of them could speak.

“This is terrible, terrible,” Klaus said fi-nally. “Violet, what can we do?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m afraid.”“Me too,” Klaus said.“Hux!” Sunny said, as she stopped crying.“Let’s have some dinner!” someone

shouted from the dining room, and thetheater troupe began pounding on the tablein strict rhythm, which is an exceedingly rudething to do.

“We’d better serve the puttanesca,” Klaussaid, “or who knows what Count Olaf willdo to us.”

Violet thought of what the bald man hadsaid, about wrecking her face, and nodded.The two of them looked at the pot of bub-bling sauce,

50


which had seemed so cozy while they weremaking it and now looked like a vat of blood.Then, leaving Sunny behind in the kitchen,they walked into the dining room, Klauscarrying a bowl of the interestingly shapednoodles and Violet carrying the pot of puttan-esca sauce and a large ladle with which toserve it. The theater troupe was talking andcackling, drinking again and again from theirwine cups and paying no attention to theBaudelaire orphans as they circled the tableserving everyone dinner. Violet’s right handached from holding the heavy ladle. Shethought of switching to her left hand, butbecause she was right-handed she was afraidshe might spill the sauce with her left hand,which could enrage Count Olaf again. Shestared miserably at Olaf’s plate of food andfound herself wishing she had bought poisonat the market and put it in the puttanescasauce. Finally, they were through serving,and Klaus and Violet slipped back into thekitchen. They listened to the wild, roughlaughter of Count

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THE BAD BEGINNING

Olaf and his theater troupe, and they pickedat their own portions of food, too miserableto eat. Before long, Olaf’s friends werepounding on the table in strict rhythm again,and the orphans went out to the dining roomto clear the table, and then again to serve thechocolate pudding. By now it was obviousthat Count Olaf and his associates had drunka great deal of wine, and they slouched at thetable and spoke much less. Finally, theyroused themselves, and trooped back throughthe kitchen, scarcely glancing at the childrenon their way out of the house. Count Olaflooked around the room, which was filledwith dirty dishes.

“Because you haven’t cleaned up yet,” hesaid to the orphans, “I suppose you can beexcused from attending tonight’s perform-ance. But after cleaning up, you are to gostraight to your beds.”

Klaus had been glaring at the floor, tryingto hide how upset he was. But at this he couldnot remain silent. “You mean our bed!” heshouted.

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“You have only provided us with one bed!”Members of the theater troupe stopped in

their tracks at this outburst, and glanced fromKlaus to Count Olaf to see what would hap-pen next. Count Olaf raised his one eyebrow,and his eyes shone bright, but he spokecalmly.

“If you would like another bed,” he said,“tomorrow you may go into town and pur-chase one.”

“You know perfectly well we haven’t anymoney,” Klaus said.

“Of course you do,” Count Olaf said, andhis voice began to get a little louder. “Youare the inheritors of an enormous fortune.”

“That money,” Klaus said, rememberingwhat Mr. Poe said, “is not to be used untilViolet is of age.”

Count Olaf’s face grew very red. For amoment he said nothing. Then, in one suddenmovement, he reached down and struckKlaus across the face. Klaus fell to the floor,his face inches from the eye tattooed on Olaf’sankle. His

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THE BAD BEGINNING

glasses leaped from his face and skitteredinto a corner. His left cheek, where Olaf hadstruck him, felt as if it were on fire. Thetheater troupe laughed, and a few of themapplauded as if Count Olaf had done some-thing very brave instead of somethingdespicable.

“Come on, friends,” Count Olaf said to hiscomrades. “We’ll be late for our own perform-ance.”

“If I know you, Olaf,” said the man withthe hook-hands, “you’ll figure out a way toget at that Baudelaire money.”

“We’ll see,” Count Olaf said, but his eyeswere shining bright as if he already had anidea. There was another loud boom as thefront door shut behind Count Olaf and histerrible friends, and the Baudelaire childrenwere alone in the kitchen. Violet knelt atKlaus’s side, giving him a hug to try to makehim feel better. Sunny crawled over to hisglasses, picked them up, and brought themto him. Klaus began to sob, not so much fromthe pain but from rage at the

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terrible situation they were in. Violet andSunny cried with him, and they continuedweeping as they washed the dishes, and asthey blew out the candles in the dining room,and as they changed out of their clothes andlay down to go to sleep, Klaus in the bed,Violet on the floor, Sunny on her little cush-ion of curtains. The moonlight shone throughthe window, and if anyone had looked intothe Baudelaire orphans’ bedroom, theywould have seen three children crying quietlyall night long.

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CHAPTERFive

Unless you have been very, very lucky, youhave undoubtedly experienced events in yourlife that have made you cry. So unless youhave been very, very lucky, you know that agood, long session of weeping can often makeyou feel better, even if your circumstanceshave not changed one bit. So it was with theBaudelaire orphans. Having cried all

night, they rose the next morning feeling asif a weight were off their shoulders. The threechildren knew, of course, that they were stillin a terrible situation, but they thought theymight do something to make it better.

The morning’s note from Count Olafordered them to chop firewood in the back-yard, and as Violet and Klaus swung the axedown over each log to break it into smallerpieces, they discussed possible plans of ac-tion, while Sunny chewed meditatively on asmall piece of wood.

“Clearly,” Klaus said, fingering the uglybruise on his face where Olaf had struck him,“we cannot stay here any longer. I wouldrather take my chances on the streets thanlive in this terrible place.”

“But who knows what misfortunes wouldbefall us on the streets?” Violet pointed out.“At least here we have a roof over ourheads.”

“I wish our parents’ money could be usednow, instead of when you come of age,”Klaus said. “Then we could buy a castle andlive in it,

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with armed guards patrolling the outside tokeep out Count Olaf and his troupe.”

“And I could have a large inventing stu-dio,” Violet said wistfully. She swung the axedown and split a log neatly in two. “Filledwith gears and pulleys and wires and anelaborate computer system.”

“And I could have a large library,” Klaussaid, “as comfortable as Justice Strauss’s, butmore enormous.”

“Gibbo!” Sunny shrieked, which appearedto mean “And I could have lots of things tobite.”

“But in the meantime,” Violet said, “wehave to do something about our predica-ment.”

“Perhaps Justice Strauss could adopt us,”Klaus said. “She said we were always wel-come in her home.”

“But she meant for a visit, or to use herlibrary,” Violet pointed out. “She didn’t meanto live.”

“Perhaps if we explained our situation toher,

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she would agree to adopt us,” Klaus saidhopefully, but when Violet looked at him shesaw that he knew it was of no use. Adoptionis an enormous decision, and not likely tohappen impulsively. I’m sure you, in yourlife, have occasionally wished to be raised bydifferent people than the ones who are rais-ing you, but knew in your heart that thechances of this were very slim.

“I think we should go see Mr. Poe,” Violetsaid. “He told us when he dropped us herethat we could contact him at the bank if wehad any questions.”

“We don’t really have a question,” Klaussaid. “We have a complaint.” He was think-ing of Mr. Poe walking toward them at BrinyBeach, with his terrible message. Even thoughthe fire was of course not Mr. Poe’s fault,Klaus was reluctant to see Mr. Poe becausehe was afraid of getting more bad news.

“I can’t think of anyone else to contact,”

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Violet said. “Mr. Poe is in charge of our af-fairs, and I’m sure if he knew how horridCount Olaf is, he would take us right out ofhere.”

Klaus pictured Mr. Poe arriving in his carand putting the Baudelaire orphans inside,to go somewhere else, and felt a stirring ofhope. Anywhere would be better than here.“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get this firewood allchopped and we’ll go to the bank.”

Invigorated by their plan, the Baudelaireorphans swung their axes at an amazingspeed, and soon enough they were donechopping firewood and ready to go to thebank. They remembered Count Olaf sayinghe had a map of the city, and they lookedthoroughly for it, but they couldn’t find anytrace of a map, and decided it must be in thetower, where they were forbidden to go. So,without directions of any sort, the Baudelairechildren set off for the city’s banking districtin hopes of finding Mr. Poe.

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After walking through the meat district,the flower district, and the sculpture district,the three children arrived at the bankingdistrict, pausing to take a refreshing sip ofwater at the Fountain of Victorious Finance.The banking district consisted of several widestreets with large marble buildings on eachside of them, all banks. They went first toTrustworthy Bank, and then to Faithful Sav-ings and Loan, and then to Subservient Fin-ancial Services, each time inquiring for Mr.Poe. Finally, a receptionist at Subservient saidshe knew that Mr. Poe worked down thestreet, at Mulctuary Money Management.The building was square and rather plain-looking, though once inside, the threeorphans were intimidated by the hustle andbustle of the people as they raced around thelarge, echoey room. Finally, they asked auniformed guard whether they had arrivedat the right place to speak to Mr. Poe, and heled them into a large office with many filecabinets and no windows.

“Why, hello,” said Mr. Poe, in a puzzledtone

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of voice. He was sitting at a desk covered intyped papers that looked important andboring. Surrounding a small framed photo-graph of his wife and his two beastly sonswere three telephones with flashing lights.“Please come in.”

“Thank you,” said Klaus, shaking Mr.Poe’s hand. The Baudelaire youngsters satdown in three large and comfortable chairs.

Mr. Poe opened his mouth to speak, buthad to cough into a handkerchief before hecould begin. “I’m very busy today,” he said,finally. “So I don’t have too much time tochat. Next time you should call ahead of timewhen you plan on being in the neighborhood,and I will put some time aside to take you tolunch.”

“That would be very pleasant,” Violet said,“and we’re sorry we didn’t contact you be-fore we stopped by, but we find ourselves inan urgent situation.”

“Count Olaf is a madman,” Klaus said,getting right to the point. “We cannot staywith him.”

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“He struck Klaus across the face. See hisbruise?” Violet said, but just as she said it,one of the telephones rang, in a loud, unpleas-ant wail. “Excuse me,” Mr. Poe said, andpicked up the phone. “Poe here,” he said intothe receiver. “What? Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. No.Yes. Thank you.” He hung up the phone andlooked at the Baudelaires as if he had forgot-ten they were there.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Poe said, “what were wetalking about? Oh, yes, Count Olaf. I’m sorryyou don’t have a good first impression ofhim.”

“He has only provided us with one bed,”Klaus said.

“He makes us do a great many difficultchores.”

“He drinks too much wine.”“Excuse me,” Mr. Poe said, as another

telephone rang. “Poe here,” he said. “Seven.Seven. Seven. Seven. Six and a half. Seven.You’re welcome.” He hung up and quicklywrote

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something down on one of his papers, thenlooked at the children. “I’m sorry,” he said,“what were you saying about Count Olaf?Making you do chores doesn’t sound toobad.”

“He calls us orphans.”“He has terrible friends.”“He is always asking about our money.”“Poko!” (This was from Sunny.)Mr. Poe put up his hands to indicate he

had heard enough. “Children, children,” hesaid. “You must give yourselves time to ad-just to your new home. You’ve only beenthere a few days.”

“We have been there long enough to knowCount Olaf is a bad man,” Klaus said.

Mr. Poe sighed, and looked at each of thethree children. His face was kind, but it didn’tlook like he really believed what theBaudelaire orphans were saying. “Are youfamiliar with the Latin term ‘in loco par-entis’?” he asked.

Violet and Sunny looked at Klaus. Thebiggest reader of the three, he was the most

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likely to know vocabulary words and foreignphrases. “Something about trains?” he asked.Maybe Mr. Poe was going to take them bytrain to another relative.

Mr. Poe shook his head. “‘In loco parentis’means ‘acting in the role of parent,’” he said.“It is a legal term and it applies to CountOlaf. Now that you are in his care, the Countmay raise you using any methods he sees fit.I’m sorry if your parents did not make youdo any household chores, or if you never sawthem drink any wine, or if you like theirfriends better than Count Olaf’s friends, butthese are things that you must get used to,as Count Olaf is acting in loco parentis. Un-derstand?”

“But he struck my brother!” Violet said.“Look at his face!”

As Violet spoke, Mr. Poe reached into hispocket for his handkerchief and, covering hismouth, coughed many, many times into it.He coughed so loudly that Violet could notbe certain he had heard her.

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“Whatever Count Olaf has done,” Mr. Poesaid, glancing down at one of his papers andcircling a number, “he has acted in loco par-entis, and there’s nothing I can do about it.Your money will be well protected by myselfand by the bank, but Count Olaf’s parentingtechniques are his own business. Now, I hateto usher you out posthaste, but I have verymuch work to do.”

The children just sat there, stunned. Mr.Poe looked up, and cleared his throat.“‘Posthaste,’” he said, “means—”

“—means you’ll do nothing to help us,”Violet finished for him. She was shaking withanger and frustration. As one of the phonesbegan ringing, she stood up and walked outof the room, followed by Klaus, who wascarrying Sunny. They stalked out of the bankand stood on the street, not knowing whatto do next.

“What shall we do next?” Klaus askedsadly.

Violet stared up at the sky. She wished shecould invent something that could take them

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out of there. “It’s getting a bit late,” she said.“We might as well just go back and think ofsomething else tomorrow. Perhaps we canstop and see Justice Strauss.”

“But you said she wouldn’t help us,” Klaussaid.

“Not for help,” Violet said, “for books.”It is very useful, when one is young, to

learn the difference between “literally” and“figuratively.” If something happens literally,it actually happens; if something happensfiguratively, it feels like it’s happening. If youare literally jumping for joy, for instance, itmeans you are leaping in the air because youare very happy. If you are figurativelyjumping for joy, it means you are so happythat you could jump for joy, but are savingyour energy for other matters. The Baudelaireorphans walked back to Count Olaf’s neigh-borhood and stopped at the home of JusticeStrauss, who welcomed them inside and letthem choose books from the library. Violetchose several about mechanical inventions,

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Klaus chose several about wolves, and Sunnyfound a book with many pictures of teethinside. They then went to their room andcrowded together on the one bed, readingintently and happily. Figuratively, they es-caped from Count Olaf and their miserableexistence. They did not literally escape, be-cause they were still in his house and vulner-able to Olaf’s evil in loco parentis ways. Butby immersing themselves in their favoritereading topics, they felt far away from theirpredicament, as if they had escaped. In thesituation of the orphans, figuratively escapingwas not enough, of course, but at the end ofa tiring and hopeless day, it would have todo. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny read their booksand, in the back of their minds, hoped thatsoon their figurative escape would eventuallyturn into a literal one.

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CHAPTERSix

The next morning, when the childrenstumbled sleepily from their bedroom intothe kitchen, rather than a note from CountOlaf they found Count Olaf himself.

“Good morning, orphans,” he said. “I haveyour oatmeal all ready in bowls for you.”

The children took seats at the kitchen tableand stared nervously into their oatmeal. Ifyou knew Count Olaf, and he suddenlyserved you a meal, wouldn’t you be afraidthere was something terrible in it, like poisonor ground glass? But instead, Violet, Klaus,and Sunny found that

fresh raspberries had been sprinkled on topof each of their portions. The Baudelaireorphans hadn’t had raspberries since theirparents died, although they were extremelyfond of them.

“Thank you,” Klaus said, carefully, pickingup one of the raspberries and examining it.Perhaps these were poison berries that justlooked like delicious ones. Count Olaf, seeinghow suspiciously Klaus was looking at theberries, smiled and plucked a berry out ofSunny’s bowl. Looking at each of the threeyoungsters, he popped it into his mouth andate it.

“Aren’t raspberries delicious?” he asked.“They were my favorite berries when I wasyour age.”

Violet tried to picture Count Olaf as ayoungster, but couldn’t. His shiny eyes, bonyhands, and shadowy smile all seemed to bethings only adults possess. Despite her fearof him, however, she took her spoon in herright hand and began to eat her oatmeal.Count Olaf had eaten some, so it probablywasn’t poisonous, and

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anyway she was very hungry. Klaus beganto eat, too, as did Sunny, who got oatmealand raspberries all over her face.

“I received a phone call yesterday,” CountOlaf said, “from Mr. Poe. He told me youchildren had been to see him.”

The children exchanged glances. They hadhoped their visit would be taken in confid-ence, a phrase which here means “kept asecret between Mr. Poe and themselves andnot blabbed to Count Olaf.”

“Mr. Poe told me,” Count Olaf said, “thatyou appeared to be having some difficultyadjusting to the life I have so graciouslyprovided for you. I’m very sorry to hearthat.”

The children looked at Count Olaf. His facewas very serious, as if he were very sorry tohear that, but his eyes were shiny and bright,the way they are when someone is telling ajoke.

“Is that so?” Violet said. “I’m sorry Mr. Poebothered you.”

“I’m glad he did,” Count Olaf said, “be-cause

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I want the three of you to feel at home here,now that I am your father.”

The children shuddered a little at that, re-membering their own kind father and gazingsadly at the poor substitute now sitting acrossthe table from them.

“Lately,” Count Olaf said, “I have beenvery nervous about my performances withthe theater troupe, and I’m afraid I may haveacted a bit standoffish.”

The word “standoffish” is a wonderful one,but it does not describe Count Olaf’s behaviortoward the children. It means “reluctant toassociate with others,” and it might describesomebody who, during a party, would standin a corner and not talk to anyone. It wouldnot describe somebody who provides onebed for three people to sleep in, forces themto do horrible chores, and strikes them acrossthe face. There are many words for peoplelike that, but “standoffish” is not one of them.Klaus knew

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the word “standoffish” and almost laughedout loud at Olaf’s incorrect use of it. But hisface still had a bruise on it, so Klaus remainedsilent.

“Therefore, to make you feel a little moreat home here, I would like to have you parti-cipate in my next play. Perhaps if you tookpart in the work I do, you would be lesslikely to run off complaining to Mr. Poe.”

“In what way would we participate?” Viol-et asked. She was thinking of all the choresthey already did for Count Olaf, and was notin the mood to do more.

“Well,” Count Olaf said, his eyes shiningbrightly, “the play is called The MarvelousMarriage, and it is written by the great play-wright Al Funcoot. We will give only oneperformance, on this Friday night. It is abouta man who is very brave and intelligent,played by me. In the finale, he marries theyoung, beautiful woman he loves, in front ofa crowd of cheering people. You, Klaus, andyou, Sunny,

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will play some of the cheering people in thecrowd.”

“But we’re shorter than most adults,”Klaus said. “Won’t that look strange to theaudience?”

“You will be playing two midgets who at-tend the wedding,” Olaf said patiently.

“And what will I do?” Violet asked. “I amvery handy with tools, so perhaps I couldhelp you build the set.”

“Build the set? Heavens, no,” Count Olafsaid. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t beworking backstage.”

“But I’d like to,” Violet said.Count Olaf’s one eyebrow raised slightly,

and the Baudelaire orphans recognized thissign of his anger. But then the eyebrow wentdown again as he forced himself to remaincalm. “But I have such an important role foryou onstage,” he said. “You are going to playthe young woman I marry.”

Violet felt her oatmeal and raspberries shiftaround in her stomach as if she had justcaught the flu. It was bad enough havingCount Olaf

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acting in loco parentis and announcing him-self as their father, but to consider this manher husband, even for the purposes of a play,was even more dreadful.

“It’s a very important role,” he continued,his mouth curling up into an unconvincingsmile, “although you have no lines other than‘I do,’ which you will say when JusticeStrauss asks you if you will have me.”

“Justice Strauss?” Violet said. “What doesshe have to do with it?”

“She has agreed to play the part of thejudge,” Count Olaf said. Behind him, one ofthe eyes painted on the kitchen walls closelywatched over each of the Baudelaire children.“I asked Justice Strauss to participate becauseI wanted to be neighborly, as well as fath-erly.”

“Count Olaf,” Violet said, and thenstopped herself. She wanted to argue her wayout of playing his bride, but she didn’t wantto make him angry. “Father,” she said, “I’mnot sure I’m talented enough to performprofessionally. I

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would hate to disgrace your good name andthe name of Al Funcoot. Plus I’ll be very busyin the next few weeks working on my inven-tions—and learning how to prepare roastbeef,” she added quickly, remembering howhe had behaved about dinner.

Count Olaf reached out one of his spideryhands and stroked Violet on the chin, lookingdeep into her eyes. “You will,” he said, “par-ticipate in this theatrical performance. Iwould prefer it if you would participate vol-untarily, but as I believe Mr. Poe explainedto you, I can order you to participate and youmust obey.” Olaf’s sharp and dirty fingernailsgently scratched on Violet’s chin, and sheshivered. The room was very, very quiet asOlaf finally let go, and stood up and leftwithout a word. The Baudelaire childrenlistened to his heavy footsteps go up thestairs to the tower they were forbidden toenter.

“Well,” Klaus said hesitantly, “I guess itwon’t hurt to be in the play. It seems to bevery

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important to him, and we want to keep onhis good side.”

“But he must be up to something,” Violetsaid.

“You don’t think those berries werepoisoned, do you?” Klaus asked worriedly.

“No,” Violet said. “Olaf is after the fortunewe will inherit. Killing us would do him nogood.”

“But what good does it do him to have usbe in his stupid play?”

“I don’t know,” Violet admitted miserably.She stood up and started washing out theoatmeal bowls.

“I wish we knew something more aboutinheritance law,” Klaus said. “I’ll bet CountOlaf has cooked up some plan to get ourmoney, but I don’t know what it could be.”

“I guess we could ask Mr. Poe about it,”Violet said doubtfully, as Klaus stood besideher and dried the dishes. “He knows all thoseLatin legal phrases.”

“But Mr. Poe would probably call CountOlaf

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again, and then he’d know we were on tohim,” Klaus pointed out. “Maybe we shouldtry to talk to Justice Strauss. She’s a judge, soshe must know all about the law.”

“But she’s also Olaf’s neighbor,” Violetreplied, “and she might tell him that we hadasked.”

Klaus took his glasses off, which he oftendid when he was thinking hard. “How couldwe find out about the law without Olaf’sknowledge?”

“Book!” Sunny shouted suddenly. Sheprobably meant something like “Wouldsomebody please wipe my face?” but it madeViolet and Klaus look at each other. Book.They were both thinking the same thing:Surely Justice Strauss would have a book oninheritance law.

“Count Olaf didn’t leave us any chores todo,” Violet said, “so I suppose we are free tovisit Justice Strauss and her library.”

Klaus smiled. “Yes indeed,” he said. “Andyou know, today I don’t think I’ll choose abook on wolves.”

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“Nor I,” Violet said, “on mechanical engin-eering. I think I’d like to read about inherit-ance law.”

“Well, let’s go,” Klaus said. “Justice Strausssaid we could come over soon, and we don’twant to be standoffish.”

At the mention of the word that Count Olafhad used so ridiculously, the Baudelaireorphans all laughed, even Sunny, who ofcourse did not have a very big vocabulary.Swiftly they put away the clean oatmealbowls in the kitchen cupboards, whichwatched them with painted eyes. Then thethree young people ran next door. Friday,the day of the performance, was only a fewdays off, and the children wanted to figureout Count Olaf’s plan as quickly as possible.

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CHAPTERSeven

There are many, many types of books in theworld, which makes good sense, becausethere are many, many types of people, andeverybody wants to read something different.For instance, people who hate stories inwhich terrible things happen to small chil-dren should put this book down immedi-ately. But one type of book that practicallyno one likes to read is a book about the law.Books about the law are notorious for beingvery long, very dull, and very difficult to

read. This is one reason many lawyers makeheaps of money. The money is an incent-ive—the word “incentive” here means “anoffered reward to persuade you to do some-thing you don’t want to do”—to read long,dull, and difficult books.

The Baudelaire children had a slightly dif-ferent incentive for reading these books, ofcourse. Their incentive was not heaps ofmoney, but preventing Count Olaf from do-ing something horrible to them in order toget heaps of money. But even with this incent-ive, getting through the law books in JusticeStrauss’s private library was a very, very,very hard task.

“Goodness,” Justice Strauss said, when shecame into the library and saw what they werereading. She had let them in the house butimmediately went into the backyard to doher gardening, leaving the Baudelaireorphans alone in her glorious library. “Ithought you were interested in mechanicalengineering, animals of North America, andteeth. Are you sure you

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want to read those enormous law books?Even I don’t like reading them, and I workin law.”

“Yes,” Violet lied, “I find them very inter-esting, Justice Strauss.”

“So do I,” Klaus said. “Violet and I areconsidering a career in law, so we are fascin-ated by these books.”

“Well,” Justice Strauss said, “Sunny can’tpossibly be interested. Maybe she’d like tocome help me with the gardening.”

“Wipi!” Sunny shrieked, which meant “I’dmuch prefer gardening to sitting aroundwatching my siblings struggle through lawbooks.”

“Well, make sure she doesn’t eat any dirt,”Klaus said, bringing Sunny over to the judge.

“Of course,” said Justice Strauss. “Wewouldn’t want her to be sick for the big per-formance.”

Violet and Klaus exchanged a look. “Areyou excited about the play?” Violet askedhesitantly.

Justice Strauss’s face lit up. “Oh yes,” shesaid. “I’ve always wanted to perform onstage,ever since I was a little girl. And now CountOlaf

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has given me the opportunity to live mylifelong dream. Aren’t you thrilled to be apart of the theater?”

“I guess so,” Violet said.“Of course you are,” Judge Strauss said,

stars in her eyes and Sunny in her hands. Sheleft the library and Klaus and Violet lookedat each other and sighed.

“She’s stagestruck,” Klaus said. “She won’tbelieve that Count Olaf is up to something,no matter what.”

“She wouldn’t help us anyway,” Violetpointed out glumly. “She’s a judge, and she’djust start babbling about in loco parentis likeMr. Poe.”

“That’s why we’ve got to find a legal reas-on to stop the performance,” Klaus saidfirmly. “Have you found anything in yourbook yet?”

“Nothing helpful,” Violet said, glancingdown at a piece of scrap paper on which shehad been taking notes. “Fifty years ago therewas a woman who left an enormous sum ofmoney to her pet weasel, and none to herthree sons. The three

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sons tried to prove that the woman was in-sane so the money would go to them.”

“What happened?” Klaus asked.“I think the weasel died,” Violet replied,

“but I’m not sure. I have to look up some ofthe words.”

“I don’t think it’s going to help us any-way,” Klaus said.

“Maybe Count Olaf is trying to prove thatwe’re insane, so he’d get the money,” Violetsaid.

“But why would making us be in TheMarvelous Marriage prove we were insane?”Klaus asked.

“I don’t know,” Violet admitted. “I’mstuck. Have you found anything?”

“Around the time of your weasel lady,”Klaus said, flipping through the enormousbook he had been reading, “a group of actorsput on a production of Shakespeare’sMacbeth, and none of them wore any cloth-ing.”

Violet blushed. “You mean they were allnaked, onstage?”

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“Only briefly,” Klaus said, smiling. “Thepolice came and shut down the production.I don’t think that’s very helpful, either. It wasjust pretty interesting to read about.”

Violet sighed. “Maybe Count Olaf isn’t upto anything,” she said. “I’m not interested inperforming in his play, but perhaps we’re allworked up about nothing. Maybe Count Olafreally is just trying to welcome us into thefamily.”

“How can you say that?” Klaus cried. “Hestruck me across the face.”

“But there’s no way he can get hold of ourfortune just by putting us in a play,” Violetsaid. “My eyes are tired from reading thesebooks, Klaus, and they aren’t helping us. I’mgoing to go out and help Justice Strauss inthe garden.”

Klaus watched his sister leave the libraryand felt a wave of hopelessness wash overhim. The day of the performance was not faroff, and he hadn’t even figured out whatCount Olaf was up to, let alone how to stophim. All his life, Klaus

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had believed that if you read enough booksyou could solve any problem, but now hewasn’t so sure.

“You there!” A voice coming from thedoorway startled Klaus out of his thoughts.“Count Olaf sent me to look for you. You areto return to the house immediately.”

Klaus turned and saw one of the membersof Count Olaf’s theater troupe, the one withhooks for hands, standing in the doorway.“What are you doing in this musty old room,anyway?” he asked in his croak of a voice,walking over to where Klaus was sitting.Narrowing his beady eyes, he read the titleof one of the books. “Inheritance Law and ItsImplications?” he said sharply. “Why are youreading that?”

“Why do you think I’m reading it?” Klaussaid.

“I’ll tell you what I think.” The man putone of his terrible hooks on Klaus’s shoulder.“I think you should never be allowed insidethis library again, at least until Friday. Wedon’t want

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a little boy getting big ideas. Now, where isyour sister and that hideous baby?”

“In the garden,” Klaus said, shrugging thehook off of his shoulder. “Why don’t you goand get them?”

The man leaned over until his face was justinches from Klaus’s, so close that the man’sfeatures flickered into a blur. “Listen to mevery carefully, little boy,” he said, breathingout foul steam with every word. “The onlyreason Count Olaf hasn’t torn you limb fromlimb is that he hasn’t gotten hold of yourmoney. He allows you to live while he worksout his plans. But ask yourself this, you littlebookworm: What reason will he have to keepyou alive after he has your money? What doyou think will happen to you then?”

Klaus felt an icy chill go through him asthe horrible man spoke. He had never beenso terrified in all his life. He found that hisarms and legs were shaking uncontrollably,as if he were having some sort of fit. Hismouth was making

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strange sounds, like Sunny always did, as hestruggled to find something to say. “Ah—”Klaus heard himself choke out. “Ah—”

“When the time comes,” the hook-handedman said smoothly, ignoring Klaus’s noises,“I believe Count Olaf just might leave you tome. So if I were you, I’d start acting a littlenicer.” The man stood up again and put bothhis hooks in front of Klaus’s face, letting thelight from the reading lamps reflect off thewicked-looking devices. “Now, if you willexcuse me, I have to fetch your poor orphansiblings.”

Klaus felt his body go limp as the hook-handed man left the room, and he wanted tosit there for a moment and catch his breath.But his mind wouldn’t let him. This was hislast moment in the library, and perhaps hislast opportunity to foil Count Olaf’s plan. Butwhat to do? Hearing the faint sounds of thehook-handed man talking to Justice Straussin the garden, Klaus looked franticallyaround the library for something that couldbe helpful.

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Then, just as he heard the man’s footstepsheading back his way, Klaus spied one book,and quickly grabbed it. He untucked his shirtand put the book inside, hastily retucking itjust as the hook-handed man reentered thelibrary, escorting Violet and carrying Sunny,who was trying without success to bite theman’s hooks.

“I’m ready to go,” Klaus said quickly, andwalked out the door before the man couldget a good look at him. He walked quicklyahead of his siblings, hoping that nobodywould notice the book-shaped lump in hisshirt. Maybe, just maybe, the book Klaus wassmuggling could save their lives.

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CHAPTEREight

Klaus stayed up all night reading, which wasnormally something he loved to do. Backwhen his parents were alive, Klaus used totake a flashlight to bed with him and hideunder the covers, reading until he couldn’tkeep his eyes open. Some mornings, hisfather would come into Klaus’s room to wakehim up and find him asleep, still clutchinghis flashlight in one hand and his book in theother. But on this particular night, of course,the circumstances were much different.

Klaus stood by the window, squinting ashe read his smuggled book by the moonlightthat trickled into the room. He occasionallyglanced at his sisters. Violet was sleepingfitfully—a word which here means “withmuch tossing and turning”—on the lumpybed, and Sunny had wormed her way intothe pile of curtains so that she just looked likea small heap of cloth. Klaus had not told hissiblings about the book, because he didn’twant to give them false hope. He wasn’t surethe book would help them out of their di-lemma.

The book was long, and difficult to read,and Klaus became more and more tired asthe night wore on. Occasionally his eyeswould close. He found himself reading thesame sentence over and over. He foundhimself reading the same sentence over andover. He found himself reading the samesentence over and over. But then he wouldremember the way the hook-hands of CountOlaf’s associate had glinted in the library,and would imagine them tearing into hisflesh,

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and he would wake right up and continuereading. He found a small scrap of paper andtore it into strips, which he used to marksignificant parts of the book.

By the time the light outside grew graywith the approaching dawn, Klaus had foundout all he needed to know. His hopes rosealong with the sun. Finally, when the firstfew birds began to sing, Klaus tiptoed to thedoor of the bedroom and eased it openquietly, careful not to wake the restless Violetor Sunny, who was still hidden in the pile ofcurtains. Then he went to the kitchen and satand waited for Count Olaf.

He didn’t have to wait long before heheard Olaf tromping down the tower stairs.When Count Olaf walked into the kitchen,he saw Klaus sitting at the table and smirked,a word which here means “smiled in an un-friendly, phony way.”

“Hello, orphan,” he said. “You’re upearly.”

Klaus’s heart was beating fast, but he feltcalm on the outside, as if he had on a layerof

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invisible armor. “I’ve been up all night,” hesaid, “reading this book.” He put the bookout on the table so Olaf could see it. “It’scalled Nuptial Law,” Klaus said, “and Ilearned many interesting things while read-ing it.”

Count Olaf had taken out a bottle of wineto pour himself some breakfast, but when hesaw the book he stopped, and sat down.

“The word ‘nuptial,’” Klaus said, “means‘relating to marriage.’”

“I know what the word means,” Count Olafgrowled. “Where did you get that book?”

“From Justice Strauss’s library,” Klaus said.“But that’s not important. What’s importantis that I have found out your plan.”

“Is that so?” Count Olaf said, his one eye-brow raising. “And what is my plan, youlittle runt?”

Klaus ignored the insult and opened thebook to where one of the scraps of paper wasmarking his place. “‘The laws of marriage inthis community are very simple,’” he readout loud.

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“‘The requirements are as follows: the pres-ence of a judge, a statement of “I do” by boththe bride and the groom, and the signing ofan explanatory document in the bride’s ownhand.’” Klaus put down the book and poin-ted at Count Olaf. “If my sister says ‘I do’and signs a piece of paper, while JusticeStrauss is in the room, then she is legallymarried. This play you’re putting onshouldn’t be called The Marvelous Marriage.It should be called The Menacing Marriage.You’re not going to marry Violet figurat-ively—you’re going to marry her literally!This play won’t be pretend; it will be real andlegally binding.”

Count Olaf laughed a rough, hoarse laugh.“Your sister isn’t old enough to get married.”

“She can get married if she has the permis-sion of her legal guardian, acting in locoparentis,” Klaus said. “I read that, too. Youcan’t fool me.”

“Why in the world would I want to actu-ally marry your sister?” Count Olaf asked.“It is true

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she is very pretty, but a man like myself canacquire any number of beautiful women.”

Klaus turned to a different section of Nup-tial Law. “‘A legal husband,’” he read outloud, “‘has the right to control any money inthe possession of his legal wife.’” Klaus gazedat Count Olaf in triumph. “You’re going tomarry my sister to gain control of theBaudelaire fortune! Or at least, that’s whatyou planned to do. But when I show this in-formation to Mr. Poe, your play will not beperformed, and you will go to jail!”

Count Olaf’s eyes grew very shiny, but hecontinued to smirk at Klaus. This was surpris-ing. Klaus had guessed that once he an-nounced what he knew, this dreadful manwould have been very angry, even violent.After all, he’d had a furious outburst just be-cause he’d wanted roast beef instead of put-tanesca sauce. Surely he’d be even more en-raged to have his plan discovered. But CountOlaf just sat there as calmly as if they werediscussing the weather.

“I guess you’ve found me out,” Olaf said

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simply. “I suppose you’re right: I’ll go toprison, and you and the other orphans willgo free. Now, why don’t you run up to yourroom and wake your sisters? I’m sure they’llwant to know all about your grand victoryover my evil ways.”

Klaus looked closely at Count Olaf, whowas continuing to smile as if he had just tolda clever joke. Why wasn’t he threateningKlaus in anger, or tearing his hair out infrustration, or running to pack his clothesand escape? This wasn’t happening at all theway Klaus had pictured it.

“Well, I will go tell my sisters,” he said, andwalked back into his bedroom. Violet wasstill dozing on the bed and Sunny was stillhidden beneath the curtains. Klaus woke Vi-olet up first.

“I stayed up all night reading,” Klaus saidbreathlessly, as his sister opened her eyes,“and I discovered what Count Olaf is up to.He plans to marry you for real, when youand Justice Strauss and everyone all thinkit’s just a play, and once he’s your husbandhe’ll have control of our parents’ money andhe can dispose of us.”

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“How can he marry me for real?” Violetasked. “It’s only a play.”

“The only legal requirements of marriagein this community,” Klaus explained, holdingup Nuptial Law to show his sister where he’dlearned the information, “are your saying ‘Ido,’ and signing a document in your ownhand in the presence of a judge—like JusticeStrauss!”

“But surely I’m not old enough to getmarried,” Violet said. “I’m only fourteen.”

“Girls under the age of eighteen,” Klaussaid, flipping to another part of the book,“can marry if they have the permission oftheir legal guardian. That’s Count Olaf.”

“Oh no!” Violet cried. “What can we do?”“We can show this to Mr. Poe,” Klaus said,

pointing to the book, “and he will finally be-lieve us that Count Olaf is up to no good.Quick, get dressed while I wake up Sunny,and we can be at the bank by the time itopens.”

Violet, who usually moved slowly in themornings, nodded and immediately got outof

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bed and went to the cardboard box to findsome proper clothing. Klaus walked over tothe lump of curtains to wake up his youngersister.

“Sunny,” he called out kindly, putting hishand on where he thought his sister’s headwas. “Sunny.”

There was no answer. Klaus called out“Sunny” again, and pulled away the top foldof the curtains to wake up the youngestBaudelaire child. “Sunny,” he said, but thenhe stopped. For underneath the curtain wasnothing but another curtain. He moved asideall the layers, but his little sister was nowhereto be found. “Sunny!” he yelled, lookingaround the room. Violet dropped the dressshe was holding and began to help himsearch. They looked in every corner, underthe bed, and even inside the cardboard box.But Sunny was gone.

“Where can she be?” Violet asked wor-riedly. “She’s not the type to run off.”

“Where can she be indeed?” said a voicebehind them, and the two children turned

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around. Count Olaf was standing in thedoorway, watching Violet and Klaus as theysearched the room. His eyes were shiningbrighter than they ever had, and he was stillsmiling like he’d just uttered a joke.

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CHAPTERNine

“Yes,” Count Olaf continued, “it certainly isstrange to find a child missing. And one sosmall, and helpless.”

“Where’s Sunny?” Violet cried. “Whathave you done with her?”

Count Olaf continued to speak as if he hadnot heard Violet. “But then again, one seesstrange things every day. In fact, if you twoorphans follow me out to the backyard, Ithink

we will all see something rather unusual.”The Baudelaire children didn’t say any-

thing, but followed Count Olaf through thehouse and out the back door. Violet lookedaround the small, scraggly yard, in whichshe had not been since she and Klaus hadbeen forced to chop wood. The pile of logsthey had made was still lying there un-touched, as if Count Olaf had merely madethem chop logs for his own amusement,rather than for any purpose. Violet shivered,still in her nightgown, but as she gazed hereand there she saw nothing unusual.

“You’re not looking in the right place,”Count Olaf said. “For children who read somuch, you two are remarkably unintelligent.”

Violet looked over in the direction of CountOlaf, but could not meet his eyes. The eyeson his face, that is. She was staring at his feet,and could see the tattooed eye that had beenwatching the Baudelaire orphans since theirtroubles had begun. Then her eyes traveledup Count Olaf’s lean, shabbily dressed body,and she saw

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that he was pointing up with one scrawnyhand. She followed his gesture and foundherself looking at the forbidden tower. It wasmade of dirty stone, with only one lone win-dow, and just barely visible in the windowwas what looked like a birdcage.

“Oh no,” Klaus said in a small, scaredvoice, and Violet looked again. It was a bird-cage, dangling from the tower window likea flag in the wind, but inside the birdcage shecould see a small and frightened Sunny.When Violet looked closely, she could seethere was a large piece of tape across hersister’s mouth, and ropes around her body.She was utterly trapped.

“Let her go!” Violet said to Count Olaf.“She has done nothing to you! She is an in-fant!”

“Well, now,” Count Olaf said, sitting on astump. “If you really want me to let her go,I will. But surely even a stupid brat like youmight realize that if I let her go—or, moreaccurately, if I ask my comrade to let hergo—poor little Sunny might not survive thefall down to

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the ground. That’s a thirty-foot tower, whichis a very long way for a very little person tofall, even when she’s inside a cage. But if youinsist—”

“No!” Klaus cried. “Don’t!”Violet looked into Count Olaf’s eyes, and

then at the small parcel that was her sister,hanging from the top of the tower and mov-ing slowly in the breeze. She pictured Sunnytoppling from the tower and onto the ground,pictured her sister’s last thoughts being onesof sheer terror. “Please,” she said to Olaf,feeling tears in her eyes. “She’s just a baby.We’ll do anything, anything. Just don’t harmher.”

“Anything?” Count Olaf asked, his eyebrowrising. He leaned in toward Violet and gazedinto her eyes. “Anything? Would you, for in-stance, consider marrying me during tomor-row night’s performance?”

Violet stared at him. She had an odd feel-ing in her stomach, as if she were the one be-ing thrown from a great height. The reallyfrightening thing about Olaf, she realized,was that he

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was very smart after all. He wasn’t merelyan unsavory drunken brute, but an unsavory,clever drunken brute.

“While you were busy reading books andmaking accusations,” Count Olaf said, “I hadone of my quietest, sneakiest assistants skulkinto your bedroom and steal little Sunnyaway. She is perfectly safe, for now. But Iconsider her to be a stick behind a stubbornmule.”

“Our sister is not a stick,” Klaus said.“A stubborn mule,” Count Olaf explained,

“does not move in the direction its ownerwants it to. In that way, it is like you children,who insist on mucking up my plans. Anyanimal owner will tell you that a stubbornmule will move in the proper direction ifthere is a carrot in front of it, and a stick be-hind it. It will move toward the carrot, be-cause it wants the reward of food, and awayfrom the stick, because it does not want thepunishment of pain. Likewise, you will dowhat I say, to avoid the punishment of theloss of your sister, and because you want

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the reward of surviving this experience. Now,Violet, let me ask you again: will you marryme?”

Violet swallowed, and looked down atCount Olaf’s tattoo. She could not bring her-self to answer.

“Come now,” Count Olaf said, his voicefaking—a word which here means “feign-ing”—kindness. He reached out a hand andstroked Violet’s hair. “Would it be so terribleto be my bride, to live in my house for therest of your life? You’re such a lovely girl,after the marriage I wouldn’t dispose of youlike your brother and sister.”

Violet imagined sleeping beside CountOlaf, and waking up each morning to lookat this terrible man. She pictured wanderingaround the house, trying to avoid him allday, and cooking for his terrible friends atnight, perhaps every night, for the rest of herlife. But then she looked up at her helplesssister and knew what her answer must be.“If you let Sunny go,” she

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said finally, “I will marry you.”“I will let Sunny go,” Count Olaf

answered, “after tomorrow night’s perform-ance. In the meantime, she will remain in thetower for safe-keeping. And, as a warning, Iwill tell you that my assistants will standguard at the door to the tower staircase, incase you were getting any ideas.”

“You’re a terrible man,” Klaus spat out,but Count Olaf merely smiled again

“I may be a terrible man,” Count Olaf said,“but I have been able to concoct a foolproofway of getting your fortune, which is morethan you’ve been able to do.” With that, hebegan to stride toward the house. “Remem-ber that, orphans,” he said. “You may haveread more books than I have, but it didn’thelp you gain the upper hand in this situ-ation. Now, give me that book which gaveyou such grand ideas, and do the chores as-signed to you.”

Klaus sighed, and relinquished—a wordwhich here means “gave to Count Olaf eventhough

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he didn’t want to”—the book on nuptial law.He began to follow Count Olaf into thehouse, but Violet stayed still as a statue. Shehadn’t been listening to that last speech ofCount Olaf’s, knowing it would be full of theusual self-congratulatory nonsense anddespicable insults. She was staring at thetower, not at the top, where her sister wasdangling, but the whole length of it. Klauslooked back at her and saw something hehadn’t seen in quite some time. To those whohadn’t been around Violet long, nothingwould have seemed unusual, but those whoknew her well knew that when she tied herhair up in a ribbon to keep it out of her eyes,it meant that the gears and levers of her in-venting brain were whirring at top speed.

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CHAPTERTen

That night, Klaus was the Baudelaire orphansleeping fitfully in the bed, and Violet wasthe Baudelaire orphan staying up, workingby the light of the moon. All day, the twosiblings had wandered around the house,doing the assigned chores and scarcelyspeaking to each other. Klaus was too tiredand despondent to speak, and Violet washoled up in the inventing area of her mind,too busy planning to talk.

When night approached, Violet gatheredup the curtains that had been Sunny’s bedand brought them to the door to the towerstairs, where the enormous assistant of CountOlaf’s, the one who looked like neither a mannor a woman, was standing guard. Violetasked whether she could bring the blanketsto her sister, to make her more comfortableduring the night. The enormous creaturemerely looked at Violet with its blank whiteeyes and shook its head, then dismissed herwith a silent gesture.

Violet knew, of course, that Sunny was tooterrified to be comforted by a handful ofdraperies, but she hoped that she would beallowed a few moments to hold her and tellher that everything would turn out all right.Also, she wanted to do something known inthe crime industry as “casing the joint.”“Casing the joint” means observing a partic-ular location in order to formulate a plan. Forinstance, if you are a bank robber—althoughI hope you aren’t—you might go to the banka few days before you planned

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to rob it. Perhaps wearing a disguise, youwould look around the bank and observesecurity guards, cameras, and other obstacles,so you could plan how to avoid capture ordeath during your burglary.

Violet, a law-abiding citizen, was notplanning to rob a bank, but she was planningto rescue Sunny, and was hoping to catch aglimpse of the tower room in which her sisterwas being held prisoner, so as to make herplan more easily. But it appeared that shewasn’t going to be able to case the joint afterall. This made Violet nervous as she sat onthe floor by the window, working on her in-vention as quietly as she could.

Violet had very few materials with whichto invent something, and she didn’t want towander around the house looking for morefor fear of arousing the suspicions of CountOlaf and his troupe. But she had enough tobuild a rescuing device. Above the windowwas a sturdy metal rod from which the cur-tains had hung, and

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Violet took it down. Using one of the rocksOlaf had left in a pile in the corner, she brokethe curtain rod into two pieces. She then benteach piece of the rod into several sharpangles, leaving tiny cuts on her hands as shedid so. Then Violet took down the paintingof the eye. On the back of the painting, as onthe back of many paintings, was a small pieceof wire to hang on the hook. She removedthe wire and used it to connect the two piecestogether. Violet had now made what lookedlike a large metal spider.

She then went over to the cardboard boxand took out the ugliest of the clothes thatMrs. Poe had purchased, the outfits theBaudelaire orphans would never wear nomatter how desperate they were. Workingquickly and quietly, she began to tear theseinto long, narrow strips, and to tie these stripstogether. Among Violet’s many useful skillswas a vast knowledge of different types ofknots. The particular knot she was using wascalled the Devil’s Tongue. A group

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of female Finnish pirates invented it back inthe fifteenth century, and named it the Dev-il’s Tongue because it twisted this way andthat, in a most complicated and eerie way.The Devil’s Tongue was a very useful knot,and when Violet tied the cloth strips together,end to end, it formed a sort of rope. As sheworked, she remembered something herparents had said to her when Klaus was born,and again when they brought Sunny homefrom the hospital. “You are the eldestBaudelaire child,” they had said, kindly butfirmly. “And as the eldest, it will always beyour responsibility to look after youryounger siblings. Promise us that you willalways watch out for them and make surethey don’t get into trouble.” Violet re-membered her promise, and thought ofKlaus, whose bruised face still looked sore,and Sunny, dangling from the top of thetower like a flag, and began working faster.Even though Count Olaf was of course thecause of all this misery, Violet felt as if she

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had broken her promise to her parents, andvowed to make it right.

Eventually, using enough of the uglyclothing, Violet had a rope that was, shehoped, just over thirty feet long. She tied oneend of it to the metal spider, and looked ather handiwork. What she had made wascalled a grappling hook, which is somethingused for climbing up the sides of buildings,usually for a nefarious purpose. Using themetal end to hook onto something at the topof the tower, and the rope to aid her climb,Violet hoped to reach the top of the tower,untie Sunny’s cage, and climb back down.This was, of course, a very risky plan, bothbecause it was dangerous, and because shehad made the grappling hook herself, insteadof purchasing it at a store that sold suchthings. But a grappling hook was all Violetcould think of to make without a proper in-venting laboratory, and time was runningshort. She hadn’t told Klaus about her plan,because she didn’t want to give him falsehope, so without waking him, she

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gathered up her grappling hook and tiptoedout of the room.

Once outside, Violet realized her plan waseven more difficult than she had thought.The night was quiet, which would mean shewould have to make practically no noise atall. The night also had a slight breeze, andwhen she pictured herself swinging in thebreeze, clinging to a rope made of uglyclothing, she almost gave up entirely. Andthe night was dark, so it was hard to seewhere she could toss the grappling hook andhave the metal arms hook onto something.But, standing there shivering in her night-gown, Violet knew she had to try. Using herright hand, she threw the grappling hook ashigh and as hard as she could, and waited tosee if it would catch onto something.

Clang! The hook made a loud noise as it hitthe tower, but it didn’t stick to anything, andcame crashing back down. Her heart pound-ing, Violet stood stock-still, wondering ifCount Olaf or one of his accomplices wouldcome and

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investigate. But nobody arrived after a fewmoments, and Violet, swinging the hook overher head like a lasso, tried again.

Clang! Clang! The grappling hook hit thetower twice as it bounced back down to theground. Violet waited again, listening forfootsteps, but all she heard was her own ter-rified pulse. She decided to try one moretime.

Clang! The grappling hook hit the tower,and fell down again, hitting Violet hard inthe shoulder. One of the arms tore hernightgown and cut through her skin. Bitingdown on her hand to keep from crying outin pain, Violet felt the place in her shoulderwhere she had been struck, and it was wetwith blood. Her arm throbbed in pain.

At this point in the proceedings, if I wereViolet, I would have given up, but just as shewas about to turn around and go inside thehouse, she pictured how scared Sunny mustbe, and, ignoring the pain in her shoulder,Violet used her right hand to throw the hookagain.

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Cla—The usual clang! sound stopped half-way through, and Violet saw in the dim lightof the moon that the hook wasn’t falling.Nervously, she gave the rope a good yank,and it stayed put. The grappling hook hadworked!

Her feet touching the side of the stonetower and her hands grasping the rope, Viol-et closed her eyes and began to climb. Neverdaring to look around, she pulled herself upthe tower, hand over hand, all the timekeeping in mind her promise to her parentsand the horrible things Count Olaf would doif his villainous plan worked. The eveningwind blew harder and harder as she climbedhigher and higher, and several times Violethad to stop climbing as the rope moved inthe wind. She was certain that at any momentthe cloth would tear, or the hook would slip,and Violet would be sent tumbling to herdeath. But thanks to her adroit inventingskills—the word “adroit” here means “skill-ful”—everything worked the way it wassupposed to work, and suddenly Violetfound herself feeling

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a piece of metal instead of a cloth rope. Sheopened her eyes and saw her sister Sunny,who was looking at her frantically and tryingto say something past the strip of tape. Violethad arrived at the top of the tower, right atthe window where Sunny was tied.

The eldest Baudelaire orphan was aboutto grab her sister’s cage and begin her descentwhen she saw something that made her stop.It was the spidery end of the grappling hook,which after several attempts had finally stuckonto something on the tower. Violet hadguessed, during her climb, that it had foundsome notch in the stone, or part of the win-dow, or perhaps a piece of furniture insidethe tower room, and stuck there. But thatwasn’t what the hook had stuck on. Violet’sgrappling hook had stuck on another hook.It was one of the hooks on the hook-handedman. And his other hook, Violet saw, wasglinting in the moonlight as it reached righttoward her.

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CHAPTEREleven

“How pleasant that you could join us,” thehook-handed man said in a sickly sweetvoice. Violet immediately tried to scurry backdown the rope, but Count Olaf’s assistantwas too quick for her. In one movement hehoisted her into the tower room and, with aflick of his hook, sent her rescue deviceclanging to the ground. Now Violet was astrapped as her sister. “I’m so glad you’rehere,” the hook-handed man

said. “I was just thinking how much I wantedto see your pretty face. Have a seat.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Viol-et asked.

“I said have a seat!” the hook-handed mansnarled, and pushed her into a chair.

Violet looked around the dim and messyroom. I am certain that over the course ofyour own life, you have noticed that people’srooms reflect their personalities. In my room,for instance, I have gathered a collection ofobjects that are important to me, including adusty accordion on which I can play a fewsad songs, a large bundle of notes on theactivities of the Baudelaire orphans, and ablurry photograph, taken a very long timeago, of a woman whose name is Beatrice.These are items that are very precious anddear to me. The tower room held objects thatwere very dear and precious to Count Olaf,and they were terrible things. There werescraps of paper on which he had written hisevil ideas in an illegible scrawl, lying

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in messy piles on top of the copy of NuptialLaw he had taken away from Klaus. Therewere a few chairs and a handful of candleswhich were giving off flickering shadows.Littered all over the floor were empty winebottles and dirty dishes. But most of all werethe drawings and paintings and carvings ofeyes, big and small, all over the room. Therewere eyes painted on the ceilings, andscratched into the grimy wooden floors.There were eyes scrawled along the win-dowsill, and one big eye painted on the knobof the door that led to the stairs. It was a ter-rible place.

The hook-handed man reached into apocket of his greasy overcoat and pulled outa walkie-talkie. With some difficulty, hepressed a button and waited a moment.“Boss, it’s me,” he said. “Your blushing bridejust climbed up here to try and rescue thebiting brat.” He paused as Count Olaf saidsomething. “I don’t know. With some sort ofrope.”

“It was a grappling hook,” Violet said, and

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tore off a sleeve of her nightgown to make abandage for her shoulder. “I made it myself.”

“She says it was a grappling hook,” thehook-handed man said into the walkie-talkie.“I don’t know, boss. Yes, boss. Yes, boss, ofcourse I understand she’s yours. Yes, boss.”He pressed a button to disconnect the line,and then turned to face Violet. “Count Olafis 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 mostpeople would wag a finger. “In the mean-time, however, I have to go and fetch yourbrother. The three of you will be locked inthis room until night falls. That way, CountOlaf can be sure you will all stay out of mis-chief.” With that, the hook-handed manstomped out of the room. Violet heard thedoor lock behind him, and then listened tohis footsteps fading away down the stairs.She immediately went over to Sunny, andput a hand on her little head. Afraid to untieor

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untape her sister for fear of incurring—aword which here means “bringingabout”—Count Olaf’s wrath, Violet strokedSunny’s hair and murmured that everythingwas all right.

But of course, everything was not all right.Everything was all wrong. As the first lightof morning trickled into the tower room, Vi-olet reflected on all the awful things she andher siblings had experienced recently. Theirparents had died, suddenly and horribly.Mrs. Poe had bought them ugly clothing.They had moved into Count Olaf’s house andwere treated terribly. Mr. Poe had refused tohelp them. They had discovered a fiendishplot involving marrying Violet and stealingthe Baudelaire fortune. Klaus had tried toconfront Olaf with knowledge he’d learnedin Justice Strauss’s library and failed. PoorSunny had been captured. And now, Violethad tried to rescue Sunny and found herselfcaptured as well. All in all, the Baudelaireorphans had encountered catastrophe aftercatastrophe, and Violet found their situationlamentably deplorable, a phrase

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which here means “it was not at all enjoy-able.”

The sound of footsteps coming up thestairs brought Violet out of her thoughts, andsoon the hook-handed man opened the doorand thrust a very tired, confused, and scaredKlaus into the room.

“Here’s the last orphan,” the hook-handedman said. “And now, I must go help CountOlaf with final preparations for tonight’sperformance. No monkey business, you two,or I will have to tie you up and let you dangleout of the window as well.” Glaring at them,he locked the door again and trompeddownstairs.

Klaus blinked and looked around the filthyroom. He was still in his pajamas. “What hashappened?” he asked Violet. “Why are weup here?”

“I tried to rescue Sunny,” Violet said, “us-ing an invention of mine to climb up thetower.”

Klaus went over to the window and lookeddown at the ground. “It’s so high up,” hesaid.

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“You must have been terrified.”“It was very scary,” she admitted, “but not

as scary as the thought of marrying CountOlaf.”

“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-handedman said he’d keep us here until tonight, andthen it’s The Marvelous Marriage.”

“Do you think you could invent somethingthat would help us escape?” Klaus asked,looking around the room.

“Maybe,” Violet said. “And why don’t yougo through those books and papers? Perhapsthere’s some information that could be ofuse.”

For the next few hours, Violet and Klaussearched the room and their own minds foranything that might help them. Violet lookedfor objects with which she could inventsomething. Klaus read through Count Olaf’spapers and

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books. From time to time, they would go overto Sunny and smile at her, and pat her head,to reassure her. Occasionally, Violet andKlaus would speak to each other, but mostlythey were silent, lost in their own thoughts.

“If we had any kerosene,” Violet said,around noon, “I could make Molotov cock-tails with these bottles.”

“What are Molotov cocktails?” Klausasked.

“They’re small bombs made insidebottles,” Violet explained. “We could throwthem out the window and attract the atten-tion of passersby.”

“But we don’t have any kerosene,” Klaussaid 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 thiscommunity, polygamists are breaking thelaw, even if they have married in the pres-ence of

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a judge, with the statement of ‘I do’ and thesigned document in their own hand. I readit here in Nuptial Law.”

“But we’re not polygamists,” Violet saidmournfully.

They were silent for several more hours.“We could break these bottles in half,” Vi-

olet said, “and use them as knives, but I’mafraid that Count Olaf’s troupe would over-power us.”

“You could say ‘I don’t’ instead of ‘I do,’”Klaus said, “but I’m afraid Count Olaf wouldorder Sunny dropped off the tower.”

“I certainly would,” Count Olaf said, andthe children jumped. They had been so in-volved in their conversation that they hadn’theard him come up the stairs and open thedoor. He was wearing a fancy suit and hiseyebrow had been waxed so it looked asshiny as his eyes. Behind him stood the hook-handed man, who smiled and waved a hookat the youngsters. “Come, orphans,” CountOlaf said. “It is time for the big event. Myassociate here will stay behind in this

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room, and we will keep in constant contactthrough our walkie-talkies. If anything goeswrong during tonight’s performance, yoursister will be dropped to her death. Comealong now.”

Violet and Klaus looked at each other, andthen at Sunny, still dangling in her cage, andfollowed Count Olaf out the door. As Klauswalked down the tower stairs, he felt a heavysinking in his heart as all hope left him. Theretruly seemed to be no way out of their predic-ament. Violet was feeling the same way, untilshe reached out with her right hand to graspthe banister, for balance. She looked at herright hand for a second, and began to think.All the way down the stairs, and out thedoor, and the short walk down the block tothe theater, Violet thought and thought andthought, harder than she had in her entirelife.

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CHAPTERTwelve

As Violet and Klaus Baudelaire stood, still intheir nightgown and pajamas, backstage atCount Olaf’s theater, they were of two minds,a phrase which here means “they felt twodifferent ways at the same time.” On onehand, they were of course filled with dread.From the murmur of voices they heard onthe stage, the two Baudelaire orphans couldtell

that the performance of The Marvelous Mar-riage had begun, and it seemed too late to doanything to foil Count Olaf’s plan. On theother hand, however, they were fascinated,as they had never been backstage at a theat-rical production and there was so much tosee. Members of Count Olaf’s theater troupehurried this way and that, too busy to evenglance at the children. Three very short menwere carrying a large flat piece of wood,painted to look like a living room. The twowhite-faced women were arranging flowersin a vase that from far away appeared to bemarble, but close up looked more like card-board. An important-looking man with wartsall over his face was adjusting enormous lightfixtures. As the children peeked onstage, theycould see Count Olaf, in his fancy suit, de-claiming some lines from the play, just as thecurtain came down, controlled by a womanwith very short hair who was pulling on along rope, attached to a pulley. Despite theirfear, you see, the two older Baudelaires werevery interested

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in what was going on, and only wished thatthey were not involved in any way.

As the curtain fell, Count Olaf strode off-stage and looked at the children. “It’s the endof Act Two! Why aren’t the orphans in theircostumes?” he hissed to the two white-facedwomen. Then, as the audience broke intoapplause, his angry expression turned to oneof joy, and he walked back onstage. Gestur-ing to the short-haired woman to raise thecurtain, he strode to the exact center of thestage and took elaborate bows as the curtaincame up. He waved and blew kisses to theaudience 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. Getthem into costumes, quickly!”

Without a word the two white-faced wo-men grabbed Violet and Klaus by the wristsand led them into a dressing room. The roomwas dusty but shiny, covered in mirrors andtiny lights so the actors could see better toput on their

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makeup and wigs, and there were peoplecalling out to one another and laughing asthey changed their clothes. One white-facedwoman yanked Violet’s arms up and pulledher nightgown off over her head, and thrusta dirty, lacy white dress at her to put on.Klaus, meanwhile, had his pajamas removedby the other white-faced woman, and washurriedly stuffed into a blue sailor suit thatitched and made him look like a toddler.

“Isn’t this exciting?” said a voice, and thechildren turned to see Justice Strauss, alldressed up in her judge’s robes andpowdered wig. She was clutching a smallbook. “You children look wonderful!”

“So do you,” Klaus said. “What’s thatbook?”

“Why, those are my lines,” Justice Strausssaid. “Count Olaf told me to bring a law bookand read the real wedding ceremony, in or-der to make the play as realistic as possible.All you have to say, Violet, is ‘I do,’ but I haveto make

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quite a speech. This is going to be such fun.”“You know what would be fun,” Violet

said carefully, “is if you changed your linesaround, just a little.”

Klaus’s face lit up. “Yes, Justice Strauss. Becreative. There’s no reason to stick to thelegal ceremony. It’s not as if it’s a real wed-ding.”

Justice Strauss frowned. “I don’t knowabout that, children,” she said. “I think itwould be best to follow Count Olaf’s instruc-tions. After all, he’s in charge.”

“Justice Strauss!” a voice called. “JusticeStrauss! 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 andcreams smeared on her face. “Children, Imust go. See you onstage, my dears!”

Justice Strauss ran off, leaving the childrento finish changing into their costumes. Oneof the

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white-faced women put a flowered headdresson Violet, who realized in horror that thedress she had changed into was a bridalgown. The other woman put a sailor cap onKlaus, who gazed in one of the mirrors, aston-ished at how ugly he looked. His eyes metthose of Violet, who was looking in the mir-ror as well.

“What can we do?” Klaus said quietly.“Pretend to be sick? Maybe they’d call off theperformance.”

“Count Olaf would know what we wereup to,” Violet replied glumly.

“Act Three of The Marvelous Marriage byAl Funcoot is about to begin!” a man with aclipboard shouted. “Everyone, please, get inyour places for Act Three!”

The actors rushed out of the room, and thewhite-faced women grabbed the children andhustled them out after them. The backstagearea was in complete pandemonium—a wordwhich here means “actors and stagehandsrunning around attending to last-minute de-tails.” The

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bald man with the long nose hurried by thechildren, then stopped himself, looked at Vi-olet in her wedding dress, and smirked.

“No funny stuff,” he said to them, wag-gling a bony finger. “Remember, when yougo out there, just do exactly what you’resupposed to do. Count Olaf will be holdinghis walkie-talkie during the entire act, and ifyou do even one thing wrong, he’ll be givingSunny a call up there in the tower.”

“Yes, yes,” Klaus said bitterly. He was tiredof being threatened in the same way, overand over.

“You’d better do exactly as planned,” theman said again.

“I’m sure they will,” said a voice suddenly,and the children turned to see Mr. Poe,dressed very formally and accompanied byhis wife. He smiled at the children and cameover to shake their hands. “Polly and I justwanted to tell you to break a leg.”

“What?” Klaus said, alarmed.

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“That’s a theater term,” Mr. Poe explained,“meaning ‘good luck on tonight’s perform-ance.’ I’m glad that you children have adjus-ted to life with your new father and are par-ticipating in family activities.”

“Mr. Poe,” Klaus said quickly, “Violet andI have something to tell you. It’s very import-ant.”

“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 thechildren meaningfully. In one hand, Violetand Klaus could see, he held a walkie-talkie.

“Just that we appreciate all you’ve donefor us, Mr. Poe,” Klaus said weakly. “That’sall we wanted to say.”

“Of course, of course,” Mr. Poe said, pat-ting him on the back. “Well, Polly and I hadbetter take our seats. Break a leg,Baudelaires!”

“I wish we could break a leg,” Klauswhispered to Violet, and Mr. Poe left.

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“You will, soon enough,” Count Olaf said,pushing the two children toward the stage.Other actors were milling about, finding theirplaces for Act Three, and Justice Strauss wasoff in a corner, practicing her lines from herlaw book. Klaus took a look around the stage,wondering if anyone there could help. Thebald man with the long nose took Klaus’shand and led him to one side.

“You and I will stand here for the durationof the act. That means the whole thing.”

“I know what the word ‘duration’ means,”Klaus said.

“No nonsense,” the bald man said. Klauswatched his sister in her wedding gown takeher place next to Count Olaf as the curtainrose. Klaus heard applause from the audienceas Act Three of The Marvelous Marriage began.

It will be of no interest to you if I describethe action of this insipid—the word “insipid”here means “dull and foolish”—play by AlFuncoot, because it was a dreadful play andof

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no real importance to our story. Various act-ors and actresses performed very dull dia-logue and moved around the set, as Klaustried to make eye contact with them and seeif they would help. He soon realized that thisplay must have been chosen merely as anexcuse for Olaf’s evil plan, and not for itsentertainment value, as he sensed the audi-ence losing interest and moving around intheir seats. Klaus turned his attention to theaudience to see whether any of them wouldnotice that something was afoot, but the waythe wart-faced man had arranged the lightsprevented Klaus from seeing the faces in theauditorium, and he could only make out thedim outlines of the people in the audience.Count Olaf had a great number of very longspeeches, which he performed with elaborategestures and facial expressions. No oneseemed to notice that he held a walkie-talkiethe entire time.

Finally, Justice Strauss began speaking,and Klaus saw that she was reading directlyfrom the

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legal book. Her eyes were sparkling and herface flushed as she performed onstage for thefirst time, too stagestruck to realize she wasa part of Olaf’s plan. She spoke on and onabout Olaf and Violet caring for each otherin sickness and in health, in good times andbad, and all of those things that are said tomany people who decide, for one reason oranother, to get married.

When she finished her speech, JusticeStrauss turned to Count Olaf and asked, “Doyou take this woman to be your lawfullywedded wife?”

“I do,” Count Olaf said, smiling. Klaus sawViolet shudder.

“Do you,” Justice Strauss said, turning toViolet, “take this man to be your lawfullywedded husband?”

“I do,” Violet said. Klaus clenched his fists.His sister had said “I do” in the presence ofa judge. Once she signed the official docu-ment, the wedding was legally valid. Andnow, Klaus could see that Justice Strauss wastaking the

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document from one of the other actors andholding it out to Violet to sign.

“Don’t move an inch,” the bald manmuttered to Klaus, and Klaus thought of poorSunny, dangling at the top of the tower, andstood still as he watched Violet take a longquill pen from Count Olaf. Violet’s eyes werewide as she looked down at the document,and her face was pale, and her left hand wastrembling as she signed her name.

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CHAPTERThirteen

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” CountOlaf said, stepping forward to address theaudience, “I have an announcement. Thereis no reason to continue tonight’s perform-ance, for its purpose has been served. Thishas not been a scene of fiction. My marriageto Violet Baudelaire is perfectly legal, andnow I am in control of her entire fortune.”

There were gasps from the audience, andsome of the actors looked at one another inshock. Not everyone, apparently, had knownabout Olaf’s plan. “That can’t be!” JusticeStrauss cried.

“The marriage laws in this community arequite simple,” Count Olaf said. “The bridemust say ‘I do’ in the presence of a judge likeyourself, and sign an explanatory document.And all of you”—here Count Olaf gesturedout to the audience—“are witnesses.”

“But Violet is only a child!” one of the act-ors said. “She’s not old enough to marry.”

“She is if her legal guardian agrees,” CountOlaf said, “and in addition to being her hus-band, I am her legal guardian.”

“But that piece of paper is not an officialdocument!” Justice Strauss said. “That’s justa stage prop!”

Count Olaf took the paper from Violet’shand and gave it to Justice Strauss. “I thinkif you

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look at it closely you will see it is an officialdocument from City Hall.”

Justice Strauss took the document in herhand and read it quickly. Then, closing hereyes, she sighed deeply and furrowed herbrow, thinking hard. Klaus watched her andwondered if this were the expression JusticeStrauss had on her face whenever she wasserving 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 pa-per. Count Olaf, you are Violet’s husband,and therefore in complete control of her es-tate.”

“That can’t be!” said a voice from theaudience, and Klaus recognized it as thevoice of Mr. Poe. He ran up the stairs to thestage and took the document from JusticeStrauss. “This is dreadful nonsense.”

“I’m afraid this dreadful nonsense is thelaw,” Justice Strauss said. Her eyes werefilling up

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with tears. “I can’t believe how easily I wastricked,” she said. “I would never do any-thing to harm you children. Never.”

“You were easily tricked,” Count Olaf said,grinning, and the judge began to cry. “It waschild’s play, winning this fortune. Now, if allof you will excuse me, my bride and I needto go home for our wedding night.”

“First let Sunny go!” Klaus burst out. “Youpromised 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 thewalkie-talkie, and waited while the hook-handed man answered. “Hello? Yes, ofcourse it’s me, you idiot. Everything has goneaccording to plan. Please remove Sunny fromher cage and bring her directly to the theater.Klaus and Sunny have some chores to dobefore they go to bed.” Count Olaf gaveKlaus a sharp look. “Are you satisfied now?”he asked.

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“Yes,” Klaus said quietly. He wasn’t satis-fied at all, of course, but at least his baby sis-ter was no longer dangling from a tower.

“Don’t think you’re so safe,” the bald manwhispered to Klaus. “Count Olaf will takecare of you and your sisters later. He doesn’twant to do it in front of all these people.” Hedid not have to explain to Klaus what hemeant by the phrase “take care of.”

“Well, I’m not satisfied at all,” Mr. Poe said.“This is absolutely horrendous. This is com-pletely monstrous. This is financially dread-ful.”

“I’m afraid, however,” Count Olaf said,“that it is legally binding. Tomorrow, Mr.Poe, I shall come down to the bank andwithdraw the complete Baudelaire fortune.”

Mr. Poe opened his mouth as if to saysomething, but began to cough instead. Forseveral seconds he coughed into a handker-chief while everyone waited for him to speak.“I won’t allow it,” Mr. Poe finally gasped,wiping his mouth. “I absolutely will not al-low it.”

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“I’m afraid you have to,” Count Olafreplied.

“I’m—I’m afraid Olaf is right,” JusticeStrauss said, through her tears. “This mar-riage is legally binding.”

“Begging your pardon,” Violet said sud-denly, “but I think you may be wrong.”

Everyone turned to look at the eldestBaudelaire orphan.

“What did you say, Countess?” Olaf said.“I’m not your countess,” Violet said testily,

a word which here means “in an extremelyannoyed 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 risein anger.

“I’m afraid your husband is right, dear,”Justice Strauss said sadly. “There’s no usedenying it. There are too many witnesses.”

“Like most people,” Violet said, “I amright-

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handed. But I signed the document with myleft hand.”

“What?” Count Olaf cried. He snatched thepaper from Justice Strauss and looked downat it. His eyes were shining very bright. “Youare a liar!” he hissed at Violet.

“No she’s not,” Klaus said excitedly. “I re-member, because I watched her left handtrembling as she signed her name.”

“It is impossible to prove,” Count Olafsaid.

“If you like,” Violet said, “I shall be happyto sign my name again, on a separate sheetof paper, with my right hand and then withmy left. Then we can see which signature theone on the document most resembles.”

“A small detail, like which hand you usedto sign,” Count Olaf said, “doesn’t matter inthe least.”

“If you don’t mind, sir,” Mr. Poe said, “I’dlike Justice Strauss to make that decision.”

Everyone looked at Justice Strauss, whowas

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wiping away the last of her tears. “Let mesee,” she said quietly, and closed her eyesagain. She sighed deeply, and the Baudelaireorphans, and all who liked them, held theirbreath as Justice Strauss furrowed her brow,thinking hard on the situation. Finally, shesmiled. “If Violet is indeed right-handed,”she said carefully, “and she signed the docu-ment with her left hand, then it follows thatthe signature does not fulfill the requirementsof the nuptial laws. The law clearly states thedocument must be signed in the bride’s ownhand. Therefore, we can conclude that thismarriage is invalid. Violet, you are not acountess, and Count Olaf, you are not incontrol of the Baudelaire fortune.”

“Hooray!” cried a voice from the audience,and several people applauded. Unless youare a lawyer, it will probably strike you asodd that Count Olaf’s plan was defeated byViolet signing with her left hand instead ofher right. But the law is an odd thing. Forinstance, one country in Europe has a lawthat requires all its

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bakers to sell bread at the exact same price.A certain island has a law that forbids anyonefrom removing its fruit. And a town not toofar from where you live has a law that barsme from coming within five miles of its bor-ders. Had Violet signed the marriage contractwith her right hand, the law would havemade her a miserable contessa, but becauseshe signed it with her left, she remained, toher relief, a miserable orphan.

What was good news to Violet and hersiblings, of course, was bad news to CountOlaf. Nevertheless, he gave everyone a grimsmile. “In that case,” he said to Violet, push-ing a button on the walkie-talkie, “you willeither marry me again, and correctly thistime, or I will—”

“Neepo!” Sunny’s unmistakable voice rangout over Count Olaf’s as she tottered onstagetoward her siblings. The hook-handed manfollowed behind her, his walkie-talkie buzz-ing and crackling. Count Olaf was too late.

“Sunny! You’re safe!” Klaus cried, and

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embraced her. Violet rushed over and thetwo older Baudelaires fussed over theyoungest one.

“Somebody bring her something to eat,”Violet said. “She must be very hungry afterhanging 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. “Youmay not be my wife,” he said, “but you arestill my daughter, and—”

“Do you honestly think,” Mr. Poe said inan exasperated voice, “that I will allow youto continue to care for these three children,after the treachery I have seen here tonight?”

“The orphans are mine,” Count Olaf in-sisted, “and with me they shall stay. Thereis nothing illegal about trying to marrysomeone.”

“But there is something illegal aboutdangling an infant out of a tower window,”Justice Strauss said indignantly. “You, CountOlaf, will

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go to jail, and the three children will live withme.”

“Arrest him!” a voice said from the audi-ence, 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 aharsh voice, “I hereby arrest you in the nameof the law.”

“Oh, Justice Strauss!” Violet said. “Did youreally mean what you said? Can we reallylive with you?”

“Of course I mean it,” Justice Strauss said.“I am very fond of you children, and I feelresponsible for your welfare.”

“Can we use your library every day?”Klaus asked.

“Can we work in the garden?” Violetasked.

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“Cake!” Sunny shrieked again, and every-one laughed.

At this point in the story, I feel obliged tointerrupt and give you one last warning. AsI said at the very beginning, the book you areholding in your hands does not have a happyending. It may appear now that Count Olafwill go to jail and that the three Baudelaireyoungsters will live happily ever after withJustice Strauss, but it is not so. If you like,you may shut the book this instant and notread the unhappy ending that is to follow.You may spend the rest of your life believingthat the Baudelaires triumphed over CountOlaf and lived the rest of their lives in thehouse and library of Justice Strauss, but thatis not how the story goes. For as everyonewas laughing at Sunny’s cry for cake, theimportant-looking man with all the warts onhis face was sneaking toward the controls forthe lighting of the theater.

Quick as a wink, the man flicked the mainswitch so that all the lights went off andevery

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one was standing in darkness. Instantly,pandemonium ensued as everyone ran thisway and that, shouting at one another. Actorstripped over members of the audience.Members of the audience tripped over theat-rical props. Mr. Poe grabbed his wife, think-ing it was Count Olaf. Klaus grabbed Sunnyand held her up as high as he could, so shewouldn’t get hurt. But Violet knew at oncewhat had happened, and made her waycarefully to where she remembered the lightshad been. When the play was being per-formed, Violet had watched the light controlscarefully, taking mental notes in case thesedevices came in handy for an invention. Shewas certain if she could find the switch shecould turn it back on. Her arms stretched infront of her as if she were blind, Violet madeher way across the stage, stepping carefullyaround pieces of furniture and startled actors.In the darkness, Violet looked like a ghost,her white wedding gown moving slowlyacross the stage. Then, just as she had reachedthe switch, Violet

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felt a hand on her shoulder. A figure leanedin to whisper into her ear.

“I’ll get my hands on your fortune if it’sthe last thing I do,” the voice hissed. “Andwhen I have it, I’ll kill you and your siblingswith my own two hands.”

Violet gave a little cry of terror, but flickedthe switch on. The entire theater was floodedwith light. Everyone blinked and lookedaround. Mr. Poe let go of his wife. Klaus putSunny down. But nobody was touching Viol-et’s shoulder. Count Olaf was gone.

“Where did he go?” Mr. Poe shouted.“Where did they all go?”

The Baudelaire youngsters looked aroundand saw that not only had Count Olaf van-ished, but his accomplices—the wart-facedman, the hook-handed man, the bald manwith the long nose, the enormous person wholooked like neither a man nor a woman, andthe two white-faced women—had vanishedalong with him.

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“They must have run outside,” Klaus said,“while it was still dark.”

Mr. Poe led the way outside, and JusticeStrauss and the children followed. Way, waydown the block, they could see a long blackcar driving away into the night. Maybe itcontained Count Olaf and his associates.Maybe it didn’t. But in any case, it turned acorner and disappeared into the dark city asthe children watched without a word.

“Blast it,” Mr. Poe said. “They’re gone. Butdon’t worry, children, we’ll catch them. I’mgoing to go call the police immediately.”

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny looked at oneanother and knew that it wasn’t as simple asMr. Poe said. Count Olaf would take care tostay out of sight as he planned his next move.He was far too clever to be captured by thelikes of Mr. Poe.

“Well, let’s go home, children,” JusticeStrauss said. “We can worry about this in themorning, when I’ve fixed you a good break-fast.”

Mr. Poe coughed. “Wait a minute,” he said,

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looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry to tellyou this, children, but I cannot allow you tobe raised by someone who is not a relative.”

“What?” Violet cried. “After all JusticeStrauss has done for us?”

“We never would have figured out CountOlaf’s plan without her and her library,”Klaus said. “Without Justice Strauss, wewould have lost our lives.”

“That may be so,” Mr. Poe said, “and Ithank Justice Strauss for her generosity, butyour parents’ will is very specific. You mustbe adopted by a relative. Tonight you willstay with me in my home, and tomorrow Ishall go to the bank and figure out what todo with you. I’m sorry, but that is the way itis.”

The children looked at Justice Strauss, whosighed heavily and hugged each of theBaudelaire youngsters in turn. “Mr. Poe isright,” she said sadly. “He must respect yourparents’ wishes. Don’t you want to do whatyour parents wanted, children?”

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Violet, Klaus, and Sunny pictured theirloving parents, and wished more than everthat the fire had not occurred. Never, neverhad they felt so alone. They wanted verybadly to live with this kind and generouswoman, but they knew that it simply couldnot be done. “I guess you’re right, JusticeStrauss,” Violet said finally. “We will missyou very much.”

“I will miss you, too,” she said, and hereyes filled with tears once more. Then theyeach gave Justice Strauss one last embrace,and followed Mr. and Mrs. Poe to their car.The Baudelaire orphans piled into the back-seat, and peered out the back window atJustice Strauss, who was crying and wavingto them. Ahead of them were the darkenedstreets, where Count Olaf had escaped toplan more treachery. Behind them was thekind judge, who had taken such an interestin the three children. To Violet, Klaus, andSunny, it seemed that Mr. Poe and the lawhad made the incorrect decision to take themaway from the possibility of a happy

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life with Justice Strauss and toward an un-known fate with some unknown relative.They didn’t understand it, but like so manyunfortunate events in life, just because youdon’t understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t so.The Baudelaires bunched up together againstthe cold night air, and kept waving out theback window. The car drove farther andfarther away, until Justice Strauss was merelya speck in the darkness, and it seemed to thechildren that they were moving in an aber-rant—the word “aberrant” here means “very,very wrong, and causing much grief”—direc-tion.

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About the Author andAbout the Illustrator

LEMONY SNICKET was born in a small townwhere the inhabitants were suspicious and proneto riot. He now lives in the city. During his sparetime he gathers evidence and is consideredsomething of an expert by leading authorities.These are his first books for HarperCollins.

Visit him on the Web at http://www.harperchil-drens.com/lsnicket/ or E-mail to [email protected]

BRETT HELQUIST was born in Gonado, Ari-zona, grew up in Orem, Utah, and now lives inNew York City. He earned a bachelor’s degreein fine arts from Brigham Young University andhas been illustrating ever since. His art has ap-

peared in many publications, including Cricketmagazine and The New York Times.

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive in-formation on your favorite HarperCollins author.

To My Kind Editor,

I am writing to you from the London branch ofthe Herpetological Society, where I am trying tofind out what happened to the reptile collectionof Dr. Montgomery Montgomery following thetragic events that occurred while the Baudelaireorphans were in his care.

An associate of mine will place a small water-proof box in the phone booth of the Elektra Hotelat 11 P.M. next Tuesday. Please retrieve it beforemidnight to avoid it falling into the wrong hands.In the box you will find my description of theseterrible events, entitled THE REPTILE ROOM,as well as a map of Lousy Lane, a copy of thefilm Zombies in the Snow, and Dr. Montgomery’srecipe for coconut cream cake. I have also man-aged to track down one of the few photographsof Dr. Lucafont, in order to help Mr. Helquistwith his illustrations.

Remember, you are my last hope that the talesof the Baudelaire orphans can finally be told tothe general public.

With all due respect,

Lemony Snicket

Credits

Typography by Margaret WagnerCover art © 1999 by Brett HelquistCover design by Alison DonaltyCover © by HarperCollins Publishers Inc.

Copyright

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS #1: THE BAD BEGINNING.Text copyright © 1999 by Lemony Snicket. Illustrationscopyright © 1999 by Brett Helquist. All rights reservedunder International and Pan-American Copyright Conven-tions. By payment of the required fees, you have beengranted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to accessand read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of thistext may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded,decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introducedinto any information storage and retrieval system, in anyform or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical,now known or hereinafter invented, without the express

Library of Congress Catalog-in-Publication DataSnicket, LemonyThe bad beginning / by Lemony Snicket; Illustrations byBrett Helquist.p. cm.—(A series of unfortunate events; bk. 1)

Summary: After the sudden death of their parents, thethree Baudelaire children must depend on each other andtheir wits when it turns out that the distant relative whois appointed their guardian is determined to use any meansnecessary to get their fortune.

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ISBN 978-0-06-155023-2

ISBN 0-06-440766-7

Adobe Acrobat eBook Reader August 2007

written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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