on the Night of the Seventh Moon
by
victoria holt


Available in Fontana by the same author

Mistress of Mellyn Kirkland Revels Bride of Pendorric The Legend of the
Seventh Virgin Menfreya The King of the Castle The Queen's Confession
The Shivering Sands The Secret Woman The Shadow of the Lynx

On the Ni^ht of the Seventh Moon

Collins

FONTANA BOOKS

First published in the U.

K.

by Wm.  Collins 1973 First issued in Pontana Books 1974

Victoria Holt 1972

Printed in Great Britain Collins Clear-Type Press London and Glasgow

CONDITIONS OF SALE:

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of
trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated
without the publisher's prior consent in any) orm of binding or cover
other than that in which it is published and without a similar
condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent
purchaser

CONTENTS

The Forest Idyll 1859-60 7 The Nightmare 1860-61 63 The Years Between
1861-9 103 The Reality 1870 121 1901 282

The Forest Idyll 185960

Now that I have reached the mature age of twenty-seven I look back on
that fantastic adventure of my youth and can almost convince myself
that it did not happen as I believed it did then.  Yet sometimes even
now I awake in the night because, in my dreams, I have heard a voice
calling me, and that voice is the voice of my child.  But here I am, a
spinster of this parish-at least those who know me think of me as
such-though deep within me I believe myself to be a wife even as I ask:
Did I suffer some mental aberration?  Was it really true as they tried
to convince me that I, a romantic and rather feckless girl, had been
betrayed as many had been before and because I could not face this
fact, had fabricated a wild story which none but myself could
believe.

Because it is of the greatest importance to me to understand what
really happened on the Night of the Seventh Moon, I have decided to set
out in detail the events as I remember them, in the hope that by so
doing, the truth will emerge.

Schwester Maria, the kindest of the nuns, used to shake her head over
me.

"Helena, my child," she would say, "you will have to be very careful.
It is not good to be as reckless and passionate as you are."

Schwester Gudrun, less benevolent, would narrow her eyes and nod
significantly as she regarded me.

"One day, Helena Trant, you will go too far," was her comment.

I was sent to the Damenstift to be educated when I was fourteen years
old and had been there for four years.  During that time I had been
home to England only once, which was when my mother had died.  My two
aunts had then come to look after my father and I disliked them from
the first because they were so different from my mother.  Aunt Caro The
Forest Idyll 185960

ONE

Now that I have reached the mature age of twenty-seven I look back on
that fantastic adventure of my youth and can almost convince myself
that it did not happen as I believed it did then.  Yet sometimes even
now I awake in the night because, in my dreams, I have heard a voice
calling me, and that voice is the voice of my child.  But here I am, a
spinster of this parish-at least those who know me think of me as
such-though deep within me I believe myself to be a wife even as I ask:
Did I suffer some mental aberration?  Was it really true as they tried
to convince me that I, a romantic and rather feckless girl, had been
betrayed as many had been before and because I could not face this
fact, had fabricated a wild story which none but myself could
believe.

Because it is of the greatest importance to me to understand what
really happened on the Night of the Seventh Moon, I have decided to set
out in detail the events as I remember them, in the hope that by so
doing, the truth will emerge.

Schwester Maria, the kindest of the nuns, used to shake her head over
me.

"Helena, my child," she would say, 'you will have to be very careful.
It is not good to be as reckless and passionate as you are.  "

Schwester Gudrun, less benevolent, would narrow her eyes and nod
significantly as she regarded me.

"One day, Helena Trant, you will go too far," was her comment.

I was sent to the Damenstift to be educated when I was fourteen years
old and had been there for four years.  During that time I had been
home to England only once, which was when my mother had died.  My two
aunts had then come to look after my father and I disliked them from
the first because they were so different from my mother.  Aunt
Caroline was the more unpleasant of the two.  The only thing she
appeared to enjoy was pointing out the shortcomings of others.

We lived in Oxford in the shadow of the college in which my father had
once been a student until circumstances- brought on by his own
reckless, passionate conduct-had forced him to give up.  Perhaps I took
after him; I was sure I did, for our adventures were not dissimilar in
a way; though his were never anything but respectable.

He was the only son and his parents had determined that he should go to
the university.  Sacrifices had been made by his family-a fact which
Aunt Caroline could never forget nor forgive, for during his student
days he had, in the company of another student, taken a walking holiday
through the Black Forest and there he had met and fallen in love with a
beautiful maiden, and after that, nothing would satisfy them but
marriage.  It was like something out of the fairy tales which had their
origin in that part of the world.  She was of noble blood the country
abounded in small dukedoms and principalities and of course the
marriage was frowned on from both sides.  Her family did not wish her
to marry a penniless English student; his had scraped to educate him
for a respectable career and it was hoped that he would make that
career within the university, for in spite of his romantic nature he
was something of a scholar and his tutors had high hopes for him.  But
for both, the world was well lost for love; so they married and my
father gave up the university and looked around for a means of
supporting a wife.

He had made a friend of old Thomas Trebling who owned the small but
lively little bookshop just off the High Street, and Thomas gave him
employment and rooms over the shop.  The young married couple defied
all the evil prophecies of sarcastic Aunt Caroline and Cassandra-like
Aunt Matilda and were blissfully happy.  Poverty was not the only
handicap;

my mother was delicate.  She had in fact when my father met her been
staying at one of her family's hunting lodges in the forest for her
health's sake.  She was consumptive.

"There must be no children," announced Aunt Matilda, who considered
herself an authority on disease.  And of course I con founded them all
by making my existence felt almost as soon as they were married and
appearing exactly ten months afterwards.

It must have been considered tiresome of them to prove everyone wrong,
but this they did; and their happiness continued until my mother's
death.  I know that the aunts disapproved of fate which, instead of
punishing such irresponsibility, seemed to reward it.

Crusty Old Thomas Trebling who could scarcely say a polite word to
anyone even his customers became a fairy godfather to them.  He even
conveniently died and left them not only the shop but the little house
next door, which he had occupied until then; so that by the time I was
six years old, my father had his own bookshop, which if it was not
exactly a flourishing concern provided an adequate living; and he lived
a very happy life with a wife whom he continued to adore and who
reciprocated that rare brand of devotion, and a daughter whose high
spirits it was not always easy to curb, but whom they both loved in a
remote kind of way because they were too absorbed in each other to have
excessive affection to spare for her.  My father was no business man
but he had a love of books, particularly those of an antiquarian
nature, so he was interested in his business; he had many friends at
the university and in our small dining room there were often intimate
little dinner parties when the talk was often learned and on occasions
witty.

The aunts came now and then.  My mother called them the greyhounds
because she said they sniffed about the place looking to see if it had
been properly cleaned, and on the first occasion I remember seeing them
at the age of three, I burst into tears protesting that they weren't
really greyhounds but only two old women, which was very difficult to
explain and did not endear me to them.  Aunt Caroline never forgave my
mother, which was characteristic of her; but she didn't forgive me
either, which was perhaps less reasonable.

So my childhood was passed in that exciting city which was home to
me.

I can remember walking by the river and my father's telling me how the
Romans had come and built a city there, and how the Danes had later
burned it down.  I found it exciting to see the people scurrying
through the streets, scholars in scarlet gowns and the students in
their white ties, and hearing how the Proctors prowled the streets at
night preceded by their bulldogs.  Clinging to his hand, I would go
with him southwards down the Cornmarket right into the very heart of
the city. Sometimes the three of us went on a picnic into the
meadows;

but I always preferred to be with one or the other alone for then I
could have the attention I could never capture when the three of us
were together.  When we were by ourselves my father would talk to me
of Oxford and take me out to show me Tom Tower, the great bell and the
spire of the Cathedral, which he proudly told me was one of the oldest
in England.

With my mother it was different.  She would talk of pine forests and
the little schloss where she had spent her childhood.  She told me of
Christmases and how they had gone into the forest to get their own
trees with which they would decorate the house; and how in the
Rittersaal, the Hall of the Knights, which was found in almost every
schloss large or small, the dancers came on Christmas Eve and when they
had danced, sang carols.  I loved to hear my mother sing Stille Nacht,
Heilige Nacht; and her old home in the forest seemed to me an enchanted
place.  I wondered that she never felt homesick and when I asked her
once and saw the smile on her face I knew how deep was the love she
bore my father.  I believe that it was then that I convinced myself
that one day there would be someone in my life who would be to me as my
father was to her.  I thought that this deep, unquestioning, unshakable
devotion was for everyone to enjoy.  Perhaps that was why I was such an
easy victim.  My excuse is that, knowing my parents' story, I expected
to find a similar enchantment in the forest and believed that other men
were as tender and good as my father.  But my lover was not like hers. 
I should have recognized that.  Tempestuous, irresistible,
overwhelming, yes.  Tender, self-sacrificing-no.

My happy childhood was overshadowed only by the visits of aunts and
later the need to go away to school.  Then followed holidays and a
return to the exciting city which never seemed to change-indeed, said
my father, it had been the same for hundreds of years; that was its
charm.  What I remember from that time is the wonderful sense of
security I felt.  It had never occurred to me that anything could
change.  I should always take walks with my father and listen to his
accounts of the days when he had been a student; and it was such a joy
to listen because although he spoke of them with pride there was no
regret.  I loved to listen to him as he talked reverently of his days
at Balliol; I felt I was as familiar with the college as he was; and I
could clearly understand his absorption in the life as he planned to
spend the rest of his days there.  He would proudly tell me of the
famous people who had studied there.  My mother talked of her childhood
and sang Lieder to me, fitting her own words to melodies

from Schubert and Schumann which I loved.  She made little sketches of
the forest and they seemed to have a fairy-tale quality which has
always haunted me; she would tell me stories of trolls and woodcutters
and some of the old legends which had been handed down from
pre-Christian days when people believed in the gods of the North such
as Odin the All- Father, Thor with his hammer, and the beautiful
Goddess Freya after whom Friday was named.  I was enthralled by these
stories.

Sometimes she would tell me about the Damenstift in the pine forest
where she had been educated by nuns; she talked sometimes in German so
that I became moderately conversant with that language, although never
quite bilingual.

It was her dearest wish that I should be educated at that convent where
she herself had been so happy.

"You will love it there," she told me, 'high up in the pine-clad
mountains.  The air will make you strong and healthy; in the summer
mornings you will eat breakfast out of doors fresh milk and rye bread.
It tastes good.  The nuns will be kind to you.  They will teach you to
be happy and work hard.  It is what I have always wanted for you.  "

As my father always wanted what she wanted, I went to the Damenstift,
and when I had recovered from my homesickness I began to enjoy it.  I
was soon under the spell of the forest, though I had in fact been so
before I had set eyes on it; and as I was at that time the sort of girl
who has few inhibitions I was able to accept the new life and my
companions with no great difficulty.  My mother had prepared me, so
nothing seemed very strange.  There were girls from all over Europe.

Six of them were English, including myself; there were just over a
dozen French, and the rest were from the various little German states
of which we were in the midst.

We mingled well.  We spoke English and French as well as German; the
simple life was good for us all; the discipline was intended to be
stem, but of course there were those indulgent nuns who could be
wheedled and we were quick to find them.

I was soon happy in the convent and I spent two contented years,
passing even the vacations there, because it was too far and too
expensive to return home.  There vere always six or seven of us who did
this and some of the happiest times were when the others had left and
we decorated the hall with firs from the forest and sang our carols, or
decorated the

chapel for Easter, or took picnics in the forest during the summer.

I had come to accept this new life; Oxford with its towers and spires
seemed far away until that day when I heard that my mother was
dangerously ill and I was to go home.  Fortunately it was in the summer
and Mr.  and Mrs.  Greville, friends of my father, who were travelling
in Europe, collected me and took me home.  My mother was dead when I
arrived.

What a change I found.  My father had aged by ten years;

he was vague as though he could not drag himself away from a blissful
past to face an intolerable present.  The aunts had descended upon the
household.  At great self-sacrifice.  Aunt Caroline told me, they had
given up their comfortable cottage in Somerset to come and look after
us.  I was sixteen years old, time to stop wasting my time on a lot of
foreign languages and habits which would be of no use to me; I should
make myself useful in the home.  They could find plenty for me to do
there.  Young girls should be able to cook and sew, keep a still room
and perform other domestic tasks which she doubted were taught at
outlandish foreign convents.

But Father roused himself from his apathy.  It had been her wish that I
should complete my education at the Damenstift and should stay there
until I was eighteen years old.

So I went back and I often thought that if the aunts had had their way
that strange adventure would never have taken place.

It happened two years after my mother's death.  I had forgotten so much
of life in Oxford and only rarely did I think of walking down the
Cornmarket to Folly Bridge and St.  Aldate's, of the castellated walls
of colleges; of the hollow silence of the Cathedral and the fascination
of the Murder of St.  Thomas a Becket in stained glass in the east
window.  But the reality was the convent life, the secrets shared with
girls as we lay in our cell-like dormitory where a thick stone buttress
divided one cell from another.

And so there came that early autumn after which nothing would be the
same again.

I was nearly eighteen perhaps young for my years.  I was frivolous yet
in a way dreamily romantic.  I have no one but myself to blame for what
happened.

The most gentle of the sisters was Maria.  She should have been a
mother of children; perhaps she would have been

over-indulgent, but how happy she would have been and would they!  But
she was a virgin nun and had to content herself with us.

She understood me more than any of the others.  She knew that I did not
wish to be wayward; I was high-spirited; I was impulsive; my sin was
thoughtlessness rather than wilfulness.  I know she had constantly
explained this to the Mutter.

It was October-and we were enjoying an Indian summer, for the autumn
was long coming that year.  It was a pity to waste the golden days,
said Schwester Maria, and she was going to choose twelve girls whose
conduct warranted the privilege to accompany her on a picnic.  We could
take the wagonette and go up to the plateau; and there we would make a
fire and boil a part of water and make coffee and Schwester Gretchen
had said she would bake a few of her spiced cakes as a special treat.

She chose me to be among the favoured twelve rather in the hope that I
might mend my ways than because of past good conduct, I was sure; but
whatever the reason I was in the party on that fateful day.  Schwester
Maria drove the wagonette as I had seen her so many times before,
looking like a big black crow in her flapping black robes, sitting
there holding in the horse with a masterly touch which was
surprising.

Poor old horse, he would have known the road blindfolded, so it did not
really need very much skill to lead him there.  During his lifetime, he
must have taken the wagonette full of girls up to the plateau many
times.

So we arrived; we made the fire (so useful for the girls to learn these
things); we boiled the water, made the coffee and ate the spiced cakes.
We washed the cups in the nearby stream and packed them away;

we wandered around until Schwester Maria clapped her hands to call us
to her.  We were leaving in half an hour, she told us, and we must all
assemble at that time.  We knew what this meant.  Schwester Maria was
going to lean against the tree under which she was sitting and for half
an hour take a well-earned nap.

And so she did while we wandered off, and the feeling of excitement
which being in the pine forests always gave me began to creep over
me.

In such a setting Hansel and Gretel were lost and came upon their
gingerbread house; in such a wood the lost.  babes had wandered to lie
down and sleep and be covered by the leaves.  Along the river, although
we could not see them here, castles would appear to hang on the edge

of the hillside-castles such as the one in which the Beauty slept for
one hundred years before she was awakened by the kiss of a Prince.

This was the forest of enchantment, of wood cutters, trolls, princes in
disguise and princesses who must be rescued, of giants and dwarfs;

it was the fairy-tale land.

I had wandered away from the others; no one was in sight.  I must watch
the time.  Pinned to my blouse was a little watch with blue enamel
decorations which had been my mother's.  It would not be fair to be
late and upset dear kind Schwester Maria.

Then I started to brood on what I had found when I last returned
home;

the aunts in possession and my father grown indifferent to what went on
around him; and it occurred to me that I would have to go back soon,
for girls did not stay after nineteen at the Damenstift.

The mist comes suddenly in the mountainous forests.  We were very high
above sea level.  When we went into the little town of Liechtenkinn
which was the nearest to the Damen stift we went downhill all the
way.

And as I sat thinking of home and wondering vaguely about the future
the mist descended and when I got to my feet I could only see a few
yards ahead of me.  I looked at my watch.  It was time to be going.

Schwester Maria would already be rousing from her slumbers, clapping
her hands and peering about for the girls.  I had climbed a little and
the mist might be less thick where she was resting, but in any case the
fact that it was there would alarm her and she would certainly decide
that we must leave at once.

I started off in what I thought was the direction in which I had
come;

but I must have been wrong, for I could not find the road.  I was not
unduly alarmed.  I had five minutes or sc to spare and I had not
wandered very far.  But my concern grew when I still could not find the
way.  I believed I could be wandering round in circles but I kept
assuring myself that soon I would come upon the clearing where we had
had our picnic.  I would hear the voices of the girls.  But there was
no sound in the mist.

I called out: "Cooee!"  as we did when we wished to attract each
other's attention.  There was no response.

I did not know which way to turn and I knew enough of the forest to
realize that one could be deceived by direction in a mist such as this
one.  A horrible panic came to me.  It might thicken.  It might not
lift all night If so how could I find my way back to the clearing.  I
called again.  There was no answer.

I looked at my watch.  I was five minutes overdue.  I pictured
Schwester Maria fussing.

"Helena Trant again!"  she would say.

"Of course she didn't mean it.  She was just not thinking ..."

How right she was.  I must find my way back.  I could not worry poor
Schwester Maria.

I started off again, calling: "Coo-ee.  It's Helena.  Here!"

But no answer came out of the implacable grey mist.  The mountain and
forests are beautiful but they are also cruel, which is why there is
always a hint of cruelty in the fairy tales of the forest.  The wicked
witch is for ever waiting to spring, the spell-bound trees are waiting
to turn into the dragons they become when darkness falls.

But I was not really frightened although I knew I was lost.  The wise
thing was to stay where I was and call.  So I did.

I looked at my watch.  Half an hour had passed.  I was frantic.  But at
least they would be searching for me.

I waited.  I called.  I abandoned my decision to remain where I was and
began to walk frantically in several directions.  An hour had passed
since the time for our rendezvous.

It must have been half an hour after that.  I had called until I was
hoarse; and then I was alert, for the sound of a displaced stone
rolling and the crackle of undergrowth indicated that someone was
near.

"Cooee!"  I called with relief.

"I'm here."

He loomed up out of the mist like a hero of the forest on his big white
horse.  I went towards him.  He sat for one second regarding me, then
he said in English: "It was you who called.  So you're lost."

I was too relieved to be surprised that he spoke in English.  I began
to talk quickly: "Have you seen the wagonette?  And Schwester Maria and
the girls?  I must find them quickly."

He smiled slowly.

"You're from the Damenstift."

"Why, yes, of course."

He leaped down from his horse.  He was tall, broad and immediately I
was aware of what I could only describe then as authority.  I was
delighted. I wanted someone who could get me back to Schwester Maria
with all speed and he gave an impression of invincibility.

"I'm lost," I said.

"There was a picnic."

"And you strayed away from the fold."  His eyes gleamed,

They were very bright topaz colour, I thought, but perhaps that was
the strange light due to the mist.  His mouth, which was firm and full,
turned up at the corners; he had not taken his eyes from me and I was a
little embarrassed by his scrutiny.

"Sheep who stray from the fold deserve to be lost," he said.

"Yes, I suppose so, but I didn't exactly stray far.  But for the mist I
should have found them easily."

"One must always expect mist at these heights," he reproved.

"Well, yes, of course, but will you take me back to them?  I'm sure
they are still searching for me."

"If you can tell me where they are, most certainly.  But if you knew
that important fact you would not need my help."

"Couldn't we try and find them?  They can't be far."

"How could we find anyone in this mist?"

"It's more than an hour since I was supposed to be there."

"Depend upon it.  They've gone back to the Damenstift."

I looked at the horse.

"It's five miles.  Could you take me there?"

I was rather startled to be promptly lifted up and set sideways on the
horse.  He leaped into the saddle.

"Go on, Schlem," he said in German.

The horse walked cautiously forward while the stranger kept one arm
about me; he held the reins with the other.  I could feel my heart
beating very fast.  I was so excited I had stopped worrying about
Schwester Maria.

I said: "Anyone could get lost in the mist."

"Anyone," he agreed.

"You were lost, I suppose?"  I asked.

"In a manner," he said.

"Schlem -' he patted the horse 'would always take me back."

"You're not English," I said suddenly.

"I am betrayed," he replied.

"Tell me what did it' " Your accent.  It's very faint, but there.  "

"I was educated at Oxford."

"How exciting!  My home is there."

"I believe I have risen somewhat in your estimation.  Am I right?"

"Well, I hadn't started to make an estimation yet."

"How wise of you.  One never should on a very short acquaintance."

"I'm Helena Trant, studying at the Damenstift near Liechtenkinn."

I waited for him to introduce himself, but all he said was:

How interesting.  "

I laughed.

"When you loomed out of the mist I thought you were Siegfried or
somebody like that."

"You are very complimentary."

"It was the horse.  Schlem.  He's magnificent.  And you looked so tall
and commanding seated up there, just as he must have looked Siegfried,
I mean.

"You are well acquainted with our heroes?"

"Well, my mother comes from these parts.  As a matter of fact, she was
at the same Damenstift.  That's why I'm there."

"How very fortunate."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because if your mother had not gone to this particular Damenstift you
would not have come and you would never have been lost in the mist and
I should never have had the pleasure of rescuing you."

I laughed.

"So it is a pleasure?"

"It's a great pleasure."

"The horse keeps going.  Where is he taking us?"

"He knows his way."

"What!  To the DamenstiftT " I doubt he has ever been there.  But he
will take us to some shelter where we can make plans.  "

I was contented.  I suppose it was that air of authority which gave me
the impression that whatever the proposition it would not be too
difficult for him to solve it.

"You haven't told me your name," I said.

"You've already named me," he said.

"Siegfried."

I burst out laughing.

"Is it really?  Well, that is a coincidence.

Fancy my hitting on the name.  I suppose you are real.  You're not a
chimera or something?  You're not suddenly going to disappear.  "

"Wait and see," he said.  He held me tightly against him, which aroused
in me a strange emotion which I had never felt before and which should,
of course, have been a warning.

We had been climbing a little and the horse suddenly changed direction.
A house loomed out of the mist.

"Here we are," said Siegfried.

He dismounted and lifted me down.

"Where are we?"  I asked.

"This is not the Damenstift."

"Never mind.  We'll find shelter here.  The mist is chilling."

He shouted: "Hansi' and a man came running out from

stables which I discerned at the side of the house.  He did not seem
in the least surprised to see me; calmly he took the reins which
Siegfried threw at him and led the horse away.

Siegfried then slipped his arm through mine and drew me towards the
stone steps which led up to the portico.  We were facing a heavy
iron-studded door which he pushed open and we stepped into a hall with
a big fire roaring away in the grate; there were skins of animals in
the form of rugs, over the polished boards of the floor.

"This is your home?"  I asked.

"It's my hunting lodge."

A woman came into the hall.

"Master!"  she cried and I saw the dismay in her face as she looked at
me.

He spoke to her in rapid German explaining that he had found one of the
young ladies from the Damenstift lost in the forest.

The woman seemed even more disturbed.

"Mein Gotfl Mem Gott}' she kept muttering.

"Don't fret so.  Garde," he complained.

"Get us some food.  The child is chilled.  Find her a wrap or something
so that she can get her damp clothes off."

I spoke to her in her own language and she replied in a scolding voice,
"We should get you back to the Damenstift soon."

"We might let them know I'm safe," I temporized, for I had no desire
for my adventure to end so quickly.

"The mist is too thick," said Siegfried.

"Wait awhile.  As soon as we can get her back we will."

The woman looked at him reproachfully and I wondered what that meant.

She bustled me up a wooden staircase into a room with a big white bed
and a great many cupboards.  She opened one of these and took from it a
blue velvet robe lined with fur.  I exclaimed with pleasure at the
sight of it.

"Take off your blouse," she said.  Tt's damp.  Then you can wrap this
round you.  "

I did so and when I glanced at myself in the mirror I seemed
transformed.  The blue velvet was so magnificent.  I had never seen
anything like it.

Could I wash my hands and face, I asked.  She looked at me almost
fearfully.  Then she nodded.  After a while she came back with hot
water. / "Come down when you're ready," she said.

I heard a clock strike seven.  Seven o'clock!  What would be happening
back at the Damenstift7 I felt sick with anxiety at the thought but
even that could not curb the wild excitement which was possessing me.

I washed thoughtfully.  My cheeks were pink; my eyes bright.  I undid
the plaits which Mutter insisted were worn and my hair fell about my
shoulders; it was thick, dark and straight.  Then I wrapped the blue
velvet robe about me and fervently wished the girls in the convent
could see me now.

There was a knock at the door and the woman entered.  She gasped when
she saw me.  She seemed as though she were going to say something but
refrained from doing so.  It was a little mysterious, but so
exciting.

She took me down the stairs to a small room where a table was set.

There was wine and cold chicken with fruit and cheeses and a big crusty
co burg loaf.

Siegfried was standing by the fire.

His eyes sparkled as he looked at me.  I was delighted.  I knew it
meant that the robe suited me as indeed it must suit anyone; and of
course my hair was more becoming loose than in plaits.

"You like the transformation?"  I said.  I always talked too much when
excited.  I went on exuberantly: *I look a more fitting companion for
Siegfried now, than with my plaits and school blouse.  "

"A very fitting companion," he said.

"Are you hungry?"

Starving.  "

"Then let us waste no time."

He led me to a chair and very courteously held it while I sat down.  I
was unused to such attentions.  He filled my glass with wine.

"I shall wait on you tonight," he said.

I wondered what he meant for a moment and then I said:

"Oh, servants."

They would be a little redundant on such an occasion.  "

"And hardly necessary when we can help ourselves."

"This wine," he said, 'is from our Moselle valley.  "

"We don't have wine at the Damenstift only water."

"How abstemious."

"And what they would say if they could see me sitting here now with my
hair loose, I can't imagine."

"So it is forbidden to wear it so?"

"It's supposed to be sinful or something."

He was still standing behind me and suddenly gathered my

hair up in his hands and pulled it so that my head was jerked back and
I looked full into his face.  He leaned over me and I wondered what was
going to happen next.

"You do strange things," I said.

"Why do you pull my hair?"

He smiled and, releasing it, went to the chair opposite me and sat
down.

"I suppose they consider it would arouse temptation in un scrupulous
people.  That's how they would reason.  And quite rightly."

"Hair, you mean?"

He nodded.

"You should keep it plaited except when you are completely sure of your
companions."

"I hadn't thought of that."

"No.  You are somewhat thoughtless, you know.  You wandered from the
fold.  Don't you know that in the forest there are wild boars and
equally wild barons?  One could rob you of your life; the other of your
virtue.  Now tell me, which would you consider of the most value?"

"The nuns would say one's virtue of course."

"But I wanted your opinion."

"As I have never lost either it is hard for me to decide."

The nuns haven't either presumably, but they came to a decision.  "

"But they are so much older than I. Are you telling me that you are one
of the wild barons?  How could you be?  You're Siegfried.  No one with
a name like that could ever rob maidens of their virtue.  All they do
is save them from wild boars or wild barons perhaps."

"You are not very sure of that.  I sense you have a few mis givings.

Have you?  "

"Well, a few.  But then if I hadn't this wouldn't be an adventure,
would it?  If it was another nun who had found me it would be rather
dull."

"But surely you should feel no misgivings with Siegfried."

"If it were really he, no."

"So you are doubting me' " I think you may be rather different from
what you seem.  "

"In what way?"

"That remains to be discovered."

He was amused and said: "Allow me to serve you some of this meat."

He did so and I took a piece of rye bread which was hot and crusty and
delicious.  There was a mixture of spicy pickle and a kind of
sauerkraut such as I had never tasted before.  This was something more
than the usual layers of white cabbage and spice seeds;

it was quite delicious.

I ate ravenously for a while and he watched me with all the pleasure of
a good host.

"So you were hungry," he said.

I frowned.

"Yes, and you're thinking that I really ought to be worrying about
what's happened at the Damenstift, not enjoying this."

"No.  I'm glad you can live in the moment."

"You mean I should forget about going back and facing them at all?"

"Yes.  I mean just that.  It's the way we live.  We have met in the
mist;

you are here; we can talk together while the mist lasts.  Let us not
think beyond that.  "

"I'll try," I said.

"Because quite frankly I find it very depressing to contemplate all the
fuss there'll be when I get back."

"Then you see I am right."  He lifted his glass.

"Tonight," he said.

"The devil take tomorrow."

I drank with him.  The wine warmed my throat and I felt the colour
flushing my cheeks.

"Although," I said severely, 'it is not a philosophy of which the nuns
would approve.  "

"The nuns are for tomorrow.  We mustn't let them intrude tonight."

"I can't help thinking of poor Schwester Maria.  Mutter will scold
her.

"You shouldn't have taken that Helena Trant," she will say.

"There is always trouble where she is" "

"And is there?"  he asked.

"It seems to work out that way."

He laughed.

"But you are different from the others.  I'm sure of that.

You were telling me that your mother was here.  "

"It was a beautiful story; and now it has become a sad one.  They met
in the forest and they fell in love and lived happily ever after ...
until she died, that is.  There was great opposition to the marriage
but they overcame it, and it all turned out so right.  But she is dead
now and Father is alone."

"He has you when you are not far away at the Damenstift or roaming the
forest in the mist."

I grimaced.

"They were always lovers rather than parents.  Lovers don't want
intruders and even children can be that."

"The conversation is growing a little sad," he said, 'and this is a
time for gaiety.  "

"What!  With me lost and the nuns frantic and wondering how they are
going to break the news to my father that I am lost in the forest."

"You'll be back with them before they have time to send the message."

"But I hardly think we should be gay when they will be so worried."

"If we can do no good by worrying we should be gay.  That's wisdom."

"I suppose you are very wise, Siegfried."

"Well, Siegfried was, wasn't he?"

"I'm not so sure.  It could all have worked out so much better with
Brynhild if he had been a little more clever."

"I suppose your mother told you the legends of our forests."

"She talked about it when we were together sometimes.  I loved the
stories of Thor and his hammer.  Do you know the one where he went to
sleep with his hammer beside him and one of the giants came and stole
it and they said that they would only give it back if the Goddess Freya
became the bride of the Prince of the Giants?  So Thor dressed up as
the Goddess and when they laid the hammer on his lap, he grasped it,
threw off his disguise and slew them all.  So he came back to the land
of the gods with his hammer."

He laughed with me.

"It was not strictly honest, I must say," I went on.

"And those giants must have been rather blind to have mistaken Thor for
a beautiful goddess."

"Disguises can deceive."

"Surely not to that extent."

"Do have some more of this.  It's Hildegarde's very special
sauerkraut.

Do you like it?  "

"Delicious," I said.

"I'm delighted that you have such a good appetite."

"Tell me about yourself.  I've told you about me."

He spread his hands.

"You know that I was in the forest hunting boar."

"Yes, but is this your home?"

"It's my shooting lodge."

"So you don't actually live here?"

"When I am hunting in this area I do."

"But where is your home?"

"Some miles from here."

"What do you do?"

"I help look after my father's lands."

"He's a sort of landowner with an estate to look after.  I know."

He asked me about myself and I was soon telling him of Aunt Caroline
and Aunt Matilda.

"The ogresses," he called them.  He was amused about the greyhound
story.

He talked about the forest and I knew that it fascinated him as it did
me.  He agreed that there was an enchantment about it which comes
through so clearly in the fairy stories.  From my childhood I had been
aware of the forest through my mother's accounts of it and he had lived
near it; so it was agreeable to be with someone who understood my
feelings as he so clearly did.

He was interested that I could recount stories of the gods and heroes
who, long, long ago, legend had it, lived in the forests when the lands
of the north were one and the gods ruled in the days before Christ was
born and brought Christianity to the world; then the heroes of the
north lived and died-men like Siegfried, Balder and Beowulf, and one
could often believe that these spirits still existed in the heart of
the forest.  His conversation fascinated me.  He told me the story of
Balder the beautiful who was so good that his mother the Goddess Frigg
made every beast and plant of the forest take an oath not to harm him.
There was one exception the evergreen plant with the yellow-green
flowers and white berries.  The mistletoe was hurt and angry because
the gods had condemned it to be a parasite and Loke the mischievous god
had known this, and had thrown the twig of this parasite sharp as an
arrow at Balder.  It pierced his heart and killed him.  The lamentation
of the gods was great.

I sat drinking in his words, glowing with the excitement of the
adventure, a little light-headed from unaccustomed wine and more
excited than I had ever been in my life.

"Loke was the God of Mischief," he told me.

"The All- Father often had occasion to punish him, for Odin was good
and it was only when his wrath was roused that he was terrible.  Have
you visited the Odenwald?

No?  Then you must one day.  It's Odin's Forest and in this country we
have this Lokenwald which is said to be Loke's Forest.  And here in
this neighbourhood only we celebrate the Night of the Seventh Moon when
mischief is abroad and is routed with the coming of dawn.  It's an
excuse for one of our local celebrations.  You're getting sleepy.  "

"No.  no.  I don't want to be.  I'm enjoying it all too much."

"You have ceased to fret about tomorrow, I'm glad to notice."

"Now you have reminded me."

"I'm sorry.  Let's change the subject quickly.  Did you know your Queen
quite recently visited our forest?"

"Yes, of course.  I believe the forest enchanted her, but this is the
home of her husband.  She loves the Prince as my father loved my
mother."

"How can you know-you who are so young and inexperienced?"

"There are things one knows instinctively."

"About devotion?"

"Love," I said.

"The great love of Tristan and Iseult, of Abelard and Heloise, of
Siegfried and Brynhild."

"Legends," he said.

"Real life may not be like that."

"And my parents," I continued, ignoring him, 'and the Queen and her
Consort.  "

"We should consider ourselves honoured that your great Queen married
one of our German princes."

"I believe she felt herself honoured."

"Not by his position, by the man."

"Well, there are so many German princes and dukes and little
kingdoms."

"One day there will be one mighty Empire.  The Prussians are determined
on that."  He went on: "But let us talk of more intimate matters."

"I have the wishbone," I cried.

"Now we can wish."

I was delighted that he had not heard of the custom, so I explained it
to him.

"You each take an end by your little finger and pull.  You wish and the
one with the larger portion gets the wish."

"Shall we try it?"

We did.

"Now wish," I said.  And I thought, I want this to go on and on.  But
that was a stupid wish.  Of course it could not go on and on.

The night had to pass.  I had to go back to the convent.  At least I
could wish that we met again.  So that was what I wished.

He had the larger piece.

"It's mine," he cried triumphantly.  Then he reached across the table
and took my hands; his eyes were very brilliant, almost tawny in the
candle light.

"Do you know what I have wished?"  he asked.

"Don't tell me," I cried.

"If you do it won't come true."

He bent his head suddenly and kissed my hands-not lightly but fiercely
and I thought he was never going to release them.

"It must come true," he said.

I said: "I can tell you what I wished because I lost, so mine doesn't
count."

"Please tell me then," he said.

"I wished that we should meet again and we should sit at this table and
talk and talk and I should wear a blue velvet robe and have my hair
loose."

He said: "Lenchen ... little Lenchen ...* very softly.

Lenchen?  " I said.

"Who is that?"

"It is my name for you.  Helena is too cold ... too remote.  For me you
are Lenchen ... my little Lenchen."

"I like it," I said.

"I like it very much."

There were apples and nuts on the table.  He peeled an apple for me and
cracked some nuts.  The candles flickered; he watched me from across
the table.

And suddenly he said: "You have grown up tonight, Lenchen."

"I feel grown up," I said.

"Not a schoolgirl any more."

"You will never be a schoolgirl again after tonight."

"I shall have to go back to the Damenslift and be one."

"A Damenstift does not make a schoolgirl.  It is an experience.  You
are sleepy."

"It's the wine," I said.

"It is time you retired."

"I wonder if it is still misty."

"If it were, would you be reassured?"

"Well, then of course they would know I could not get back and it would
be stupid to worry because there wouldn't be anything I could do about
it."

He went to the window and drew back the heavy velvet curtain.  He
peered out.

"It is worse than ever," he said.

"Can you see it then?"

"Since you came down in your blue robe I have seen nothing but you."

The excitement was almost unbearable, but I laughed rather foolishly
and said: "Surely that's an exaggeration.  When you were pouring the
wine and serving the chicken you saw that."

"Precise, pedantic Lenchen," he commented.  He rose:

"Come, I will take you to your room.  I can see the time has come."

He took my hand and led me to the door.

To my surprise Hildegarde was there.  She was fussing with a candle.

"I will show the young lady the way.  Master," she said.

I heard him laugh and mutter something about her being an interfering
old woman from whom he endured too much.

But he let me go with her.  She led the way to the room in which I had
changed, where a fire was now burning in the grate.

"The nights are chilly with the mist about," she said.

She set down the candle and lighted those in their sconces over the
dressing-table.

"Keep the windows closed against the mist," she said.

I saw that a white nightdress was laid out on the bed and I wondered
vaguely why they had such a thing because I did not believe the pretty
silk garments belonged to Hildegarde.

She looked at me earnestly.  Then she drew me to the door and showed me
the bolt.

"Bolt it when I have gone," she said.

"It is not always safe here in the heart of the forest."

I nodded.

"Make sure," she said.  *I shall be uneasy and unable to sleep if you
don't.  "

"I promise," I said.

"Good night.  Sleep well.  In the morning the mist will have cleared
and you will be taken back."

She went out and listened while I bolted the door.

"Good night," she called.

I stood leaning against it, the excitement making my heart pound.  Then
I heard a footstep on the wooden staircase.

Hildegarde spoke.

"No, Master, I'll not have it.  You may turn me out.

You may have me flogged but I'll not have it.  "

"You interfering old witch," he said, but he said it indulgently.

"A young English girl ... a schoolgirl from the Damenstift ... I'll not
have it."

"You'll not have it.  Garde?"

"No, I'll not have it.  Your women ... if you must, but not a young and
innocent girl from the Damenstift."

"You're worried about the old nuns."

"No, about innocence."

There was silence.  I was afraid and yet expectant.  I wanted to run
away from this place and yet I wanted to stay.  I understood.  He was
one of the wicked barons.  He was no Siegfried.  He had not told me his
real name.  This was his hunting lodge.  Perhaps his home was one of
the castles I had seen high above the river.

"Your women if you must," she had said.  So he brought women here and,
finding me in the mist, he had brought me here to be one of them.

I was trembling.

Suppose Hildegarde had not been there.  In the fairy tales the wicked
giants kept the Princess captive until she was rescued and emerged
unscathed.  But this was not a castle, it was a hunting lodge; and he
was not a giant, he was a virile man.

I took off the velvet robe and looked more like myself.  I undressed
and put on the silken nightdress.  It was soft and clinging, so
different from the flannelette we wore at the Damenstift.  I lay down
and could not sleep; and after a while I thought I heard a step on the
stair.  I rose and went to the door and stood there listening.  That
was why I saw the handle slowly turn.  If Hildegarde had not insisted
on my locking the door it would have opened then.

I stared at it in fascination; I listened.  I could hear breathing.  A
voice-his voice-whispered: "Lenchen ... Lenchen ... are you there?"

I stood there bewildered, my heart thumping so that I was afraid he
must hear.  I was fighting an inexplicable impulse to draw the bolt.

But I did not.  I kept hearing Hildegarde's voice: "Your women ... if
you must ..."  And I knew that I dared not unlock the door.

I stood there trembling until I heard his footsteps die away.  Then I
went back to bed.  I tried to sleep but it was a long time before I
did.

I awoke to a hammering on my door and Hildegarde calling "Good
morning."

I opened my eyes and saw the sunshine streaming into the room.

I unbolted the door to find Hildegarde there; with a tray on which was
coffee and rye bread.

"Eat this and dress immediately," she commanded.

"We must get you back to the Damenstift without delay."

The adventure was over.  The bright morning had dispelled

it.  Now the music had to be faced.

I drank the hot coffee and swallowed the bread; I washed and dressed
and in little more than half an hour I went down stairs.

Hildegarde was wearing cloak and bonnet and outside was a trap drawn by
a strawberry roan.

"We must go at once," she said.

"I sent Hans off as soon as it was light with a message to say that you
were safe."

"How good you are!"  I said, and I thought of what I had heard last
night and how she had saved me though I am not sure that I had wanted
to be saved from the wicked Sieg fried.

"You are very young," she said severely, 'and should take great care
not to get lost again.  "

I nodded and we went out to the trap.

"It is almost eight miles," she said, 'so quite far to go.  But Hans
will have explained.  "

I looked around for Siegfried but he was not there.  I felt angry.  He
might have come to say goodbye.

I got into the trap rather lingeringly but Hildegarde was brisk.  I
gazed back at the house-it was the first time I had seen it clearly.

It was of grey stone with latticed windows- smaller than I had imagined
it.  I had seen similar houses before and had heard them referred to as
shooting lodges.

Hildegarde whipped up the horses and we took to the road.  Progress was
slow, for the way was often steep and the road sometimes rough.  She
did not speak much but when she did I gathered that she was anxious for
me not to talk about my adventure.  She managed to convey discreetly
that I should not talk of Siegfried.  Hans had delivered a message. 
The implication would be that Hildegarde's husband had found me in the
mist and taken me home.  They had looked after me until I could be
taken back.  I understood what she was implying.  She did not want the
nuns to know that a wicked baron had found me and had taken me to his
shooting lodge for the purpose of seducing me.  There!  I had faced the
true facts, for it was really obvious that that had been Siegfried's
intention.  But Hildegarde had saved me.

She clearly adored him while disapproving of him.  I could understand
that too, and I agreed that it would be wiser to tell my adventures
from a slightly different angle.

So we reached the Damenstift.  What a fuss there was!  Schwester Maria
had clearly spent the night weeping.

Schwester Gudrun was silently triumphant.

"I told you that it was no use expecting good behaviour from Helena
Trant."  Hildegarde was warmly thanked and blessings showered upon her
and I was seated for a long time in Mutter's sanctum but I scarcely
heard what she said.  So many impressions crowded into my mind that
there was no room for anything else.  Myself in the blue robe; the way
his eyes had glowed when we pulled the wishbone and the sound of his
voice vibrating and passionate outside my bedroom door.

"Lenchen ... little Lenchen."

I continued to think of him.  I would never forget him, I was sure.  I
thought: one day I shall go out and find him waiting there.

But nothing like that happened at all.

Three barren weeks followed, lightened only by the hope that I should
see him and made wretched by the depressing fact that I did not, and
then news came from home.  My father was seriously ill.  I must go home
at once.  And before I could leave came the information that he was
dead.

I must leave the Damenstift altogether.  I must go home at once.  Mr. 
and Mrs.  Greville who had brought me home on that other occasion had
kindly offered to come and fetch me and take me back.

In Oxford Aunt Caroline and Aunt Matilda were waiting for me.

TWO

Back in England it was the beginning of December with Christmas almost
upon us; in the butchers' shops there were sprigs of holly round the
trays of faggots, and oranges in the mouths of pigs who managed to look
jaunty even though they were dead.  At dusk the stall-holders in the
market were showing their goods under the flare of naphtha lights and
from the windows of some shops hung cotton wool threaded on string to
look like falling snow.  The hot-chestnut seller stood at the street
corner with his glowing brazier and I remembered how my mother could
never resist buying a bag or two and how they used to warm our hands as
we carried them home.  She liked best, though, to bake our own under
the grate on

Christmas night.  She had made Christmas for us because she liked to
celebrate it as it was celebrated in the home of her childhood.  She
used to tell us how there would be a tree for every member of the
family lighted with candles and a big one in the centre of the
Rittersaal with presents for everyone.  Christmas had been celebrated
for years and years in her home, she used to say.  We in England had
also decorated fir trees when the custom had been brought from Germany
by the Queen's mother and later strengthened by Her Majesty's strong
association with her husband's land.

I had looked forward to Christmases but now this one held no charm for
me.  I missed my parents far more than I had thought possible.  It was
true I had been away from them for four years, but I had always been
aware that they were there in the little house next to the bookshop
which was my home.

Everything was changed now.  That vague untidiness which had been
homely was lacking.  Aunt Caroline would have everything shining as she
said 'like a new pin'.  In my unhappy mood I demanded to know why there
should be such a desirability about a new pin, which was what Aunt
Caroline called 'being funny'.  Mrs.  Green, who had been our
housekeeper for years, had packed her bags and left.

"Good riddance," said Aunt Caroline.  We only had young Ellen to do the
rough work.

"Very well," said Aunt Caroline, 'we have three pairs of hands in the
house.  Why should we want more?  "

Something had to be done about the shop, too.  Obviously it could not
be carried on in the same manner since my father's death.  The
conclusion was reached that it would have to be sold and in due course
a Mr.  Clees came along with his middle-aged daughter Amelia and bought
it.  These negotiations went on for some time and it emerged that the
shop and its stock would not yield so very much once my father's debts
had been paid.

"He had no head, your father," said Aunt Caroline scorn fully.

"He had a head all right," replied Aunt Matilda, 'but it was always in
the clouds.  "

"And this is the result.  Debts ... I never saw such debts.  And when
you think of that wine cellar of his and the wine bills.  What he did
with it all, I can't imagine."

"He liked to entertain his friends from the university and they liked
to come," I explained.

"I don't wonder at it, with all the wine he was fool enough to give
them."

Aunt Caroline saw everything in that way.  People did things for what
they got, never for any other reason.  I think she had come to look
after my father to make sure of her place in heaven.  She suspected the
motives of everyone.

"And what is he going to get out of that?"  was a favourite comment. 
Or What good does she think that will do her?  " Aunt Matilda was of a
softer nature.  She was obsessed with her own state of health, and the
more irregular it was, the better pleased she seemed to be.  She could
also be quite happy discussing other people's ailments and brightened
at the mention, of them; but nothing pleased her so much as her own.
Her heart was often 'playing her up'.  It 'jumped'; it 'fluttered'; it
rarely achieved the required number of beats per minute for which she
was constantly testing it.  She frequently had a touch of heartburn or
there was a numb freezing feeling all round it.  In a fit of
exasperation I once said: " You have a most accommodating heart.  Aunt
Matilda.  " And for a moment she thought that was a new kind of disease
and was quite cheered.

So between the self-righteous virtue of Aunt Caroline and the
hypochondriacal fancies of Aunt Matilda I was far from content.

I wanted the old security and love which I had taken for granted; but
it was more than that.  Since my adventure in the mist I would never be
the same again.  I thought constantly of that encounter, which seemed
to be growing more and more unreal in my mind as time passed but was
none the less vivid for that.  I went over every detail that had
happened: his face in the candle light, those gleaming eyes, that grip
on my hand;

the feel of his fingers on my hair.  I thought of the door handle
slowly turning and I wondered what would have happened if Hildegarde
had not warned me to bolt it.

Sometimes when I awoke in my room I would imagine I was in the hunting
lodge, and was bitterly disappointed when I looked round my room and
saw the wallpaper with the blue roses, the white ewer and basin, the
straight wooden chair and the text on the wall which said "Forget
yourself and live for others', and which had been put there by Aunt
Caroline.  The picture which had always been there still remained.  A
goldenhaired child in a flowing white dress was dancing along a narrow
cliff path beside which was a long drop on to the

rocks below.  Beside the child was an angel.  The title was The
Guardian Angel.  The girl's flowing dress was not unlike the nightdress
I had worn in the hunting lodge; and although I did not possess the
pretty features of the child and my hair was not golden, and Hildegarde
did not resemble the angel in the least, I associated the picture with
us both.  She had been my guardian angel, for I had been ready to
plunge to disaster ably assisted by my wicked baron who had dressed
himself up in the guise of Siegfried to deceive me.  It was like one of
the forest fairy tales.  I would never forget him.  I wanted to see him
again.  If I had a wishbone again, my wish-in spite of my guardian
angel-would still be: Let me see him again.

That was the main cause of my discontent.  There was a quality about
him which no one else had.  It fascinated me so much that I was ready
to face any danger to experience it again.

So how could I settle down to this dreary existence?  Mr.  Clees had
come next door with Miss Amelia Clees.  They were pleasant and kind and
I often went into the bookshop to see them.  Miss Clees knew a great
deal about books and it was for her sake that Mr.  Clees had bought the
shop.

"So that I shall have a means of livelihood when he is gone," she told
me.  Sometimes they came to dine with us and Aunt Matilda was quite
interested in Mr.  Clees because he had confided to her that he had
only one kidney.

That Christmas Day was dreary.  The Clees had not yet taken possession
of the shop and I had to spend the time with Aunts Caroline and
Matilda.  There were no trees, and our presents to each other had to be
useful.  There were no roasted chestnuts, no ghost stories round the
fire, no legends of the forest, no stories of my father's undergraduate
days; nothing but an account of the good deeds Aunt Caroline used to
perform for the poor in her Somerset village and from Aunt Matilda the
effects of too rich feeding on the digestive organs.

I realized that the reason they were more intimate with each other than
they were with anyone else was that they never listened to each other
and they carried on a conversation independently of each other.

I would listen idly.

"We did what we could for them but it's no use helping people like
that."

"Congestion of the liver.  She went all yellow."

"The father was constantly drunk.  I told her that the child must not
go about in torn garments.

"We've got no pins, ma'am," she said.

"Pins," I cried.

"Pins!  What is wrong with a needle and thread?"

"The doctor gave her up.  It had led to congestion of the lungs.  She
lay like a corpse."

And so on, happily pursuing their individual lines of thought.

I was amused and then exasperated; I would take my mother's book called
Gods and Heroes of the Northlands and read of those fantastic
adventures of Thor and Odin and Siegfried, Beowulf and the rest of
them.  And I fancied I was there with that unmistakable scent of the
fir and pine trees, the rushing of little mountain streams and the
sudden descent of the mist.

"It's time you took your nose out of that book and did something
useful," commented Aunt Caroline.

"Bending over books will send you into a decline," Aunt Matilda told
me.

"It stops the expansion of the chest."

My great solace at that time was the Grevilles.  They could talk of the
pine forests.  They had a feeling for them.  They had spent a holiday
there some years ago and often went back to visit them.  It was they
who had brought me back and forth from the Damenstift, for they had
been great friends of my parents.  Their son Anthony was studying for
the church.  He was such a good son, the delight of his parents, who
were so proud of him.  They were very kind and sorry for me.  I spent
Boxing Day with them and it was a relief to escape from the aunts.

They tried to make it gay for me and there were little individual
Christmas trees just as my mother had arranged them.

Anthony was there, and when he spoke his parents listened in a hushed
silence which amused me while it endeared me to them.  We played
guessing games, and games with paper and pencil, but Anthony was so
much more learned than the rest of us that we came nowhere.

It was quite pleasant and Anthony walked home with me and said rather
shyly that he hoped I would visit his parents' home whenever I wished
to.

"Is that what you would like?"  I asked.

He assured me that he would.

"Then they would want it too," I said, 'because they always want what
you do.  "

He smiled.  He had a quick understanding and was very pleasant, but not
in the least exciting to be with and it was n. o. s. m.

33 B

impossible for me now to avoid comparing any man with Siegfried.  If
Anthony had found a girl in the mist he would have taken her straight
back to where she belonged, and if he could not, to his mother; and she
would have no need to utter warnings and to take on the role of
guardian angel.

I would be pleased to go to the Grevilles and see them and their son;

but the desire to be again in that hunting lodge sitting opposite my
wicked baron was so intense that it was sometimes like a physical
pain.

There were more visits to the Grevilles.  The Clees came to the shop
and I heard that I had fifteen hundred pounds clear when all debts were
paid.

"A nest egg," said Aunt Caroline; and invested wisely it would give me
a small income which would enable me to live like a lady.  I would
continue under their care and they would teach me how to become a good
housewife, an art in which it was obvious to them I was by no means
accomplished.  I was disturbed.  I saw myself growing like the aunts;

learning how to run a house, speaking to Ellen so that she cringed,
making rows of jams, preserves and jellies and lining them up in
chronological order with labels on them denoting that they were
blackberry jelly, raspberry jam or orange marmalade of the 1859, 1860
variety and so on through the century, while I grew' into a good
housewife with banisters which held not a speck of dust and tables in
which I could see my reflection, making my own beeswax and turpentine,
salting my own pork, gathering my black currants for jelly and brooding
over the quality of my ginger wine.

And somewhere in the world Siegfried would be pursuing his adventures
and if we met again after many rows of jars in my still room he would
not know me but I should always know him.

Escape was at the Grevilles' house where I was always welcome, and
sometimes Anthony was there to talk about the past, for he was as
enamoured of the past as I was of the pine forests; I found it
interesting to learn what the Queen's marriage had meant to the
country, how the Consort had ousted Lord Melbourne, what he had done
for the country-of the great Exhibition in Hyde Park which Anthony
described so vividly that I could see the Crystal Palace and the little
Queen so proud beside her husband.  He talked of the war in the Crimea
and the great Palmerston and how our country was growing into a mighty
Empire.

I should have been very unhappy during that period but for the
Grevilles.

But Anthony was not always there and I found it tiring to hear an
account of his virtues, which his parents never failed to give me; and
I was restless and unhappy and felt sometimes as though I were in
limbo, waiting .  for what I was not sure.

I told Mrs.  Greville that I wanted to do something.

"Young girls really have plenty to do in the house," she said.

"They learn how to be good wives when they marry."

"It seems very little," I replied.

"Oh no, being a housewife is one of the important jobs in the world .
for a woman."

I didn't take to it.  My jam burned the pans; the labels came off.

Aunt Caroline tut-tutted.

"This is what comes of going to outlandish schools."

"Outlandish' was a favourite word, to be applied to anything of which
she did not approve.

My father had made that 'outlandish' marriage.  I had 'outlandish'
notions about doing something in life.

"What could you do?  Go and be a governess to children?  Miss Grace,
the vicar's daughter in our old home, went as a companion when her
father died."

"She went into a decline soon after," added Aunt Matilda grimly.

To that Lady Ogilvy.  She was the one who stopped giving soup to the
poor because she said they gave it to the pigs as soon as her back was
turned.  "

"I knew what was wrong with her long before," put in Aunt Matilda.

"She was that transparent colour.  You can tell.

"You'll go into a decline, my girl," I said to myself.

"And it won't be very long before you do either."

I was thoughtful.  I didn't fancy looking after children or being a
companion to some fratchetty old lady who might well be worse than Aunt
Caroline and Aunt Matilda; at least the incongruity of their
conversation and the predictability of their views gave me a little
amusement.

I was drifting.  It was as though I were waiting.  Life was dull; my
high spirits were taking a waspish turn because I was frustrated.  I
provoked the aunts; I refused to learn what Aunt Caroline was so
desperate to teach; I was flippant over the ailments of the body.  Yes,
I was frustrated.  I yearned for

something and I was not sure what.  I felt that but for that adventure
in the forest I might have felt differently.  If Siegfried had not
robbed me of my virtue (as he had put it), he had robbed me of my peace
of mind.  I felt that I had glimpsed something which I would not have
known existed if he had not shown me; and now I could never clearly be
content again.

When the Clees came in the spring life was more tolerable.  They were
as serious as Anthony Greville.  I went into the shop quite a bit and
grew very friendly with them.  The aunts quite liked them too.  I was
nearly nineteen-not yet of age;

the aunts were my guardians; and life seemed to promise me very
little.

And then the Gleibergs appeared in Oxford.

I was helping Aunt Caroline make strawberry jam when they arrived.

There was a knock on the door and Aunt Caroline cried: "Who on earth is
that, of this hour of the morning?"

It was about eleven o'clock and I was surprised afterwards that I had
no premonition of how important this meeting was going to prove.

Aunt Caroline stood, her head on one side listening to the voices in
the hall, to make sure that Ellen was making the necessary enquiries as
to the visitors' identity in the correct manner.

She came into the kitchen.  oh Mum .  "

"Madam," corrected Aunt Caroline.

"Madam, they say they're your cousins so I put them in the
drawing-room."

"Cousins!"  cried Aunt Caroline indignantly.

"What cousins?  We have no cousins."

Aunt Matilda came into the kitchen.  Unexpected callers were an event
and she had seen them arrive.

"Cousins!"  repeated Aunt Caroline, "They say they're our cousins!"

"Our only cousin was Albert.  He died of liver," said Aunt Matilda.

"He drank.  We never beard what became of his wife.  She was as fond of
the liquor as he was.  Sometimes it affects the heart and she was
always a funny colour."

"Why not go and see them?"  I said.

"You'll probably find they're some long-lost relations who have
suffered all the diseases that flesh-is heir to."

Aunt Caroline gave me that look which meant that I was showing signs
of my outlandish education; Aunt Matilda, who was more simple, never
tried to analyse the workings of my mind; although she kept a close
watch on my physical condition.

I followed them into the drawing-room because after all, if the cousins
were theirs they were probably some relation to me also.

I was unprepared for the visitors.  They looked foreign.

"Outlandish' I knew Aunt Caroline was thinking.

They were a man and a woman.  The woman was of middle height and
carried herself well; the man, of the same height, was inclined to
rotundity. She wore a black gown and elegant bonnet on her fair hair.

The man clicked his heels and bowed as we entered.

They were both looking at me and the woman said in English : "This must
be Helena."  And my heart began to beat fast with excitement because I
recognized her accent; I had heard it many times while I was in the
Damenstift.

I went forward expectantly and she took my hands in hers and looked
earnestly into my face.

"You have a look of your mother," she said.

She turned to the man: "It is so, don't you agree, Ernst?"

"I think I see it," he replied rather slowly.

Aunt Caroline said: "Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you."

They'sat.

"We are here for a short visit," said the woman in rather laborious
English.

"Three weeks or so.  We came to London.  My husband has seen a
doctor."

"A doctor?"  Aunt Matilda's eyes glistened.

"It's a complaint of the heart.  So he came to London and I thought
while we are in England we must go to Oxford and see Lili.  We have
called at the bookshop and they tell us this sad news.  We did not
know, you see, that she was dead.  But at least we can see Helena."

"Oh," said Aunt Caroline coldly, 'so you're relations of Helena's
mother.  "

"Would it be the valves?"  asked Aunt Matilda.

"I knew somebody who was born with valve trouble."

Nobody was listening to her.  In fact I doubted the visitors knew what
she was talking about.

"Soon after her marriage when she came to England," said the woman, 'we
began to lose touch.  There were a few letters and then-nothing more. 
I knew there was a daughter,

Helena.  " She smiled at me.

"I felt we couldn't be so near and not look you up."

"I'm glad you did," I said.

"Where do you live?  Near my mother's old home?  She talked about it a
good deal."

"Did she ever mention me?"

"Tell me your name."

"Ilse ... Ilse Gleiberg now, but not then of course."

"Ilse," I said.

"There were some cousins, I know."

"There were several of us.  Oh dear, it seems so long ago.  And then
everything changed when she married and went away.  People should never
really lose touch."

"Whereabouts do you live?"

"We have just taken a little summer place temporarily.  It's in the
Lokenwald."

"The Lokenwald!"  There was a lilt in my voice.  Aunt Caroline would
notice it and think it unbecoming.  Aunt Matilda would be aware of my
high colour and think I was developing heart disease.  I wanted to
laugh; I was suddenly so lighthearted.

"I was educated at a Damenstift near Liechtenkinn."

"Really ... well that's quite close to the Lokenwald."

"Loke's forest!"  I said gaily.

"Ah, you know something of our old legends."

Aunt Caroline was restive.  These people seemed to forget that she was
the mistress of the house, because they were so excited to have
discovered me.

To turn the attention from me Aunt Caroline suggested that the visitors
might like a glass of her elderberry wine.  They accepted and Aunt
Caroline summoned Ellen and then, afraid that she would not dust the
glasses or in some way not carry out the order to her liking, went off
to superintend the ceremony.  Aunt Matilda cornered Ernst Gleiberg and
talked to him about hearts, but his English was not as good as his
wife's, which didn't worry Aunt Matilda who never needed replies, only
an audience.

Meanwhile I turned to Ilse, more excited than I had been since I came
home.  She was about the age my mother would have been and she talked
of life at the Damenstift and the games they had played in the little
schloss where they had lived and how my mother's family had visited
hers and how they had ridden their ponies in the forest.

I felt a deep sense of nostalgia.

The wine was brought-last year's brew which Aunt Caroline reckoned
would be ready for the drinking, and the fresh wine biscuits which she
had baked the day before.  She glanced significantly at me to make sure
that I was realizing how important it was to be prepared with wine and
biscuits for unexpected visitors.

Ilse then turned her attention to Aunt Caroline, praised the wine,
which pleased her, and asked for a recipe for the biscuits.

So altogether the three of us were pleased with the visit.

That was a beginning.  They had taken lodgings in the town and the
aunts and myself were soon invited to dine with them.  This was
exciting and the aunts enjoyed it, although Aunt Caroline did think
they had some outlandish ways.

I enjoyed most the times when I could be alone with them.  I talked
constantly about my mother and how she had met my father when he was on
his walking tour.  They were very interested.  I told them about the
Damenstift and the different nuns; in fact I realized that I talked a
great deal about myself far more than they did about their lives.

They did, though, bring back to me very vividly the enchantment of the
forest;

and I could sense the change in myself.  I was more like the girl I had
been before I came back to find my life so sadly changed.  Not a word
did I say of my adventure in the mist but I was thinking of it; and the
night after that first day of their arrival I dreamed of it all so
vividly that it was like living it again.

The days passed all too quickly and not one of them without a meeting
with the Gleibergs.  I told them how very sad I was that they would
soon be leaving; Ilse said she would miss me too.  It was Ilse to whom
I had grown so close- identifying her with my mother.  She began to
tell me stories of their childhood together, all the little jaunts and
customs which my mother had mentioned; and little incidents concerning
Lili, as she called her, of which I had never heard before.

About a week before they were due to leave she said to me: "How I wish
you could come back with us for a visit."

The joy in my face seemed to startle her.

"Would you really like it so much?"  she asked, well pleased.

"More than anything on earth," I said vehemently.

"Perhaps it could be arranged."

"The aunts ..."  I began.

She put her head on one side and lifted her shoulders; a

gesture she used frequently.

"I could pay my fare," I said eagerly.

"I have some money."

"That would not be necessary.  You would be our guest, of course."

She put her finger to her lips as though something had occurred to
her.

"Ernst ..."  she said.

"I am concerned about his health.  If I could have a travelling
companion ..."

It was an idea.

I broached it to the aunts during luncheon.

"Cousin Ilse is worried about Ernst," I told them.

"I don't wonder at it.  Hearts are funny things," said Aunt Matilda.

"It's travelling.  She says it's a burden for one."

"She might have thought of that before she left her home," said Aunt
Caroline, who thought every adversity which befell others was their own
fault and only those which came to her due to unavoidable ill
fortune.

"She brought him to see a doctor."

"The best of them are here," said Aunt Matilda proudly.

"I remember Mrs.  Corsair's going up to London to see a specialist.  I
won't mention what ailed her, but ..."  She looked significantly at
me.

"Cousin Ilse would like someone to help her on the journey.  She
suggested I go."

"You!"

"Well, it would be such a help and in view of Cousin Ernst's
complaint"

"Hearts are very funny things," from Aunt Matilda.

"Unreliable ... more so than lungs, though you can't be sure of lungs
either."

"Well, I've no doubt it would be a help to her but why should you go
tramping out to outlandish places?"

"Perhaps because I'd like to.  I'd like to be of use to her.  After
all, she is my mother's cousin."

"That's what comes of marrying foreigners," said Aunt Caroline.

"Someone who understands hearts would be very useful now," said Aunt
Matilda speculatively.  Good heavens, I thought.  She's not suggesting
she should go?

She was.  Her love of disease would carry her even to such lengths.

Aunt Caroline was horrified and this was fortunate, for I was sure that
because of this veiled suggestion of her sister's she viewed my
departure with less dismay.

"How would you get back?"  demanded Aunt Caroline triumphantly.

"By train, by sea."

"Alone!  A young girl travelling alone!"

"People do.  And it's not as though it's my first visit.  The Grevilles
might be coming out again.  I could wait for them and travel back with
them perhaps."

"It all seems very outlandish to me," said Aunt Caroline.

But I was determined to go; and I think that Aunt Caroline realized
that I had my mother's determination 'stubbornness," she called it-and
once I had made up my mind I would go.  Aunt Matilda was in a way on my
side because she was certain that when you travelled with a 'heart'
more than one pair of hands would be needed if things went wrong.  So
it happened that at the end of the month of June when the Gleibergs
left England I was with them.

THREE

I was in a state of exultation.  Some strange transformation had come
to me on that night in the hunting lodge and I would never be quite the
same again.  I sometimes believed that I had supped with the gods or
one of them at least.  He belonged in Asgarth with Odin and Thor; he
would be as bold and brave and as wicked and ruthless as any of them.

He had taken possession of my mind so that I was like the
knight-at-arms who had met the belle dame sans merci.

"Alone and palely loitering' I would wander the earth ever more until I
found him.

How foolish one could be!  Yet on the other hand if I could retrace my
steps in some ways, if I could prove to myself that what I had met on
that night was not a god but a man who was not very scrupulous and
might have submitted me to that to which I am sure people like my aunts
would think death preferable, I believed I might throw off this spell
which now bound me.  I would return to Oxford and learn to be a good
housewife.  I might be a spinster who looked after the aunts for the
rest of their lives; or I might marry and have a family and bring them
up to be respectable citizens.  My daughters

should never be sent to a Damenstift in the pine forests for fear one
day they should be lost in the mist and captured by a wicked baron, for
who could be sure that the good angel in the guise of a Hildegarde
would always be there?

We travelled through the familiar country and as I smelt the pines my
spirits rose.  At length we came to the little station of Lokenburg.  A
trap took us and our luggage to their house.

How excited I was to be in Lokenburg-a typical south German town.

There were a few new houses which had been recently built on the
outskirts in the Altstadt.  It seemed to have come right out of a fairy
tale-with its arcaded streets and look of the middle ages.

"It's beautiful!"  I cried, gazing at the high roofs and gabled houses,
with little domes capping the turrets and the window- boxes on the
window-ledges overflowing with flowers.  There was the market-place
with a pond in the centre and in which a fountain played; and from the
shops hung iron signs creaking in the wind with the quaint pictures on
them indicating the various trades.

"You must visit our Pfarrkirche," Ilse told me, pointing out the
church.

"The Processional Cross is locked away but it will be brought out to
show you, I dare say."

"It's so exciting to be back," I told her.

"We're just in time for the Night of the Seventh Moon," she said.

I could hear his voice then distinctly.

The Seventh Moon," I cried, 'when Loke, the God of Mischief is abroad
and routed by the All-Father Odin."

Ilse laughed delightedly.

"Your mother made you aware of our legends, I see," she said.

"This, though, is rather a local one."

We had passed through the centre of the town and had reached its
outskirts.  The house was a mile or so from the Altstadt.  We turned in
at a drive, where the fir trees which lined it were thick and rather
stubby and pulled up before a porch.

The house was about the same size as the hunting lodge and not unlike
it; there was the hall, on the walls of which hung spears and guns, and
a wood-staircase led to a landing on which were the bedrooms.  I was
taken to mine, and hot water was brought; I washed and went down to a
meal of sausages, sauerkraut and rye bread which Ilse and I took
alone.  Ernst was resting.  The journey had been so exhausting for him.
Ilse explained.  I was probably a little tired too, more so than I
realized.

I had never felt less so.

Ilse smiled indulgently.  She was delighted by my pleasure.  I wondered
what she would think if she knew its true source and that my excitement
was due to the fact that I was hoping to meet Siegfried again.

That afternoon we went in the trap for a trip into the forest and I was
enchanted by the mist of blue gentians and pink orchids.  I wanted to
gather them but Ilse said they would soon die if I did.  So I left
them.

I slept little that night.  I was so excited.  I couldn't get out of my
mind the belief that I was going to see him again.  He would come
hunting and we would meet in the forest.  We must.  It couldn't
possibly happen that we never met again and I could not stay here for
ever, so it had to happen soon.

I looked eagerly about me during the ride but we saw hardly anyone-only
an old woman collecting sticks for firewood and a cow-herd with his
cows whose bells about their necks tinkled melodiously as they
walked.

The next day I went into the market, which was being decorated with
flags because this was the night of the full moon the seventh of the
year; the night of festivities when the god Loke was supposed to be
abroad.

"You'll see the girls in their red skirts and white embroidered blouses
and yellow tasselled aprons," Ilse told me.

"Some of the men will be masked; they may be dressed as gods in doublet
and hose and light capes; they'll be masked and wear horns on their
heads.  You've probably seen the pictures of the gods in your mother's
books.  They'll dance and play tricks.  The idea being that none will
know which represents Loke and which the All-Father.  You must see it.
We'll go into the market-square as soon as the moon rises."

I had not seen Ernst all day.  He was very self-effacing and so quiet
that one could almost believe he was not there.

"He has changed a great deal since his illness," explained Ilse.

"He suffers a great deal more than he admits."

So Ernst stayed in his room and Ilse and I were together most of the
time.  We talked a great deal1 more than she.  I suppose Aunt Caroline
was right when she said I'talked too

much; Ilse was the perfect listener, and I did not notice that she was
not so much exchanging chatter as being an audience for me.

And so came the evening of that second day-the prelude to the Night of
the Seventh Moon.  We had eaten what she called the English high tea as
it was too early for dinner and she did not wish us to be out too late
when the excitement was supposed to warm up and the fun might get too
fierce.

After this high tea she came to my room, her face grave.

"I can't allow Ernst to go out," she said.

"He's not well enough."

"So there'll be just the two of us."

'. I hardly think we ought to go.  "

"Not ... go!"

"Well, on occasions like these ... two women on their own ..."

"Oh, but we must go."

She hesitated.

"Well, we must not stay late.  We'll slip out to the market-square and
we'll see the start of it.  What a pity we haven't a house on the
square.  Then you could watch from a window.  Ernst will be very
anxious.  He won't rest till we're back."

"Isn't there some man who could escort us?  If we need one."

She shook her head.

"This is not really our home.  We have just taken this house for a
holiday.  We have been here before but we don't really have friends in
the neighbourhood.  You understand ..."

"Of course," I said.

"Well, we'll go early and not upset Ernst."

So that was how we came to be standing in the square with the revellers
all about us.  It was about eight o'clock in the evening.

Overhead hung the great moon-the seventh moon of the year and there
seemed to be something mystical about it.  It was a strange scene;

naphtha flares burned from iron jets lighting the faces of the
people.

There were crowds in the square; people were signing and calling to
each other.  I caught sight of a man masked, with the homed head-dress
which Ilse had described, and I recognized it at once from pictures my
mother had shown me.  Then I saw another and another.

Ilse squeezed my hand.

"What do you think of it?"

Wonderful," I said.

"Keep close.  The crowd's thickening and they may become
overexcited."

"It's early yet," I told her.

I saw a girl seized by one of the horn-headed men and go dancing off
with him.

"The excitement grows.  You'll see."

"What happens if the sky is overcast and there's no moon?"

"Some say that Loke is sulking and won't come out, others that he's
playing one of his mischievous tricks and then one has to be especially
careful."

A group of fiddlers arrived, started to play and the dancing began.

I don't know quite how it happened; it was the way these things do
happen in crowds, I supposed.  One minute I was standing there by Use's
side watching the laughing and dancing swirl of people and the next
there was chaos.

It began with a sudden splash.  Someone had been thrown into the
pond;

there was a rush towards it and in the melee Ilse was no longer beside
me.

I was firmly gripped by the hand and I felt an arm about my waist.  A
voice which made my heart hammer said in my ear:

"Lenchen!"  I turned and looked up into that face; I saw the masked
eyes and the laughing mouth.  I could never be mistaken.

"Siegfried," I whispered.

"Himself," he answered.

"Come ... out of the crowd."

He kept his grip on me and we were soon on the edge of it.  He took my
chin in his hands.

"Still the same Lenchen."

"What are you doing here?"

"Celebrating the Night of the Seventh Moon," he said.

"But this is an even more important occasion.  The return, of
Lenchen."

He was drawing me farther and farther away from the crowd and we were
in a small street in which there were only a few revellers.

I said: "Where are you taking me?"

"Let's go back to the lodge," he said.

"There'll be supper waiting there.  You shall wrap yourself in a blue
velvet robe and loosen your hair."

I must find Ilse.  "

Who?  "

"My cousin who brought me here.  She will be worried."

"You are so precious that there must always be those to worry about
you.  First it is nuns and now this ... Ilse."

"I must find her at once."

"Do you think you will ... in that crowd?"

"Of course."  I tried to withdraw my hand, but he would not release
me.

"We will go back and if it is possible to find her, we will."

"Come then.  She was anxious.  She thought we might not be able to come
because her husband wasn't well enough.  She must have visualized
something like this."

"Well, she did lose you and I found you.  Surely I should have some
reward for that?"

"Reward?"  I repeated; he laughed and put an arm about me.

I said primly: "How shall I introduce you to Ilse?"

"When the time comes I'll introduce myself."

There seems to me a great mystery about you.  First you appear as
Siegfried and now as Odin, or is it Loke?  "

"That is what you have to find out.  It's part of the game."

He had some sort of magic which put a spell on me; he was already
making me stop worrying about Ilse.  But I remembered how anxious she
had been about our coming; and now she would be very worried indeed.

We had reached the square; the dancing seemed to have become more
frenzied; and there was no sign of Ilse.  Someone trod on my heel and
my shoe came off.  I stopped and stooped.  He was just behind me.  I
told him what had happened.

"I'll get it."

He stooped but it wasn't there; and the crowd was so great that we were
jostled along.

"Now," he said, 'you have lost both a cousin and a shoe.  " His eyes
gleamed suddenly.

"What next will you lose?"

I said quickly: "I must go back to the house."

"Allow me to escort you."

"You ... you have come for the excitement of all this.  I don't want to
take you away from it."

"That would be quite impossible.  The excitement of this night is where
you are."

I was really frightened.  I must get away.  Common sense urged me to.

"I must get back."

"If that is what you really want then you must.  Come with me."

I limped along beside him.

"How far is the house?"  he asked.

"It's about a mile from the centre of the town."

"I dare say the road is bad.  None of the roads are good in these
parts.  Something should be done about it.  I have a horse in the inn
yard there.  You shall ride with me as you did on another occasion."

I assured myself that it would be very difficult walking minus a shoe
so I went with him to the inn yard and there was the horse; he placed
me on it as he had done on that other occasion and we started off.

He didn't speak as we went along; he held me firmly against him and my
excitement was almost unendurable.  I felt I was living in a dream but
I suddenly suspected that we were not going towards the house.

I pulled away from him.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll know soon."

"You said you were going to take me back to Ilse."

"I said no such thing."

"You said if that was what I wanted."

"Exactly, but it's not what you want.  You don't want me to take you
back and say " Here is your cousin, just as you left her apart from the
loss of one shoe of course.  "

"Put me down," I commanded.

"Here!  We're in the forest.  You'd be lost.  It's not the night for
young ladies to be about alone."

"What are you going to do?"

"Surprises are almost more amusing than the expected."

"You are taking me away ... somewhere."

"We are not very far from my hunting lodge."

"No," I said firmly.

"No."

"No?  But you really did enjoy your last visit."

"I want to go straight back to my cousin's house.  How dare you try to
take me away against my will."

"Be truthful, Lenchen.  It's not against your will.  Remember the
wishbone?  You wished that we should meet again, didn't you?"

"Not ... not like this."

How else?  "

"This is so ... irregular."

"You are talking like those aunts of yours."

"How could you know?  You've never met them."

"My dear little Lenchen, you told me so much on that night.  Do you
remember?  You sat there with the blue velvet robe about you and you
talked and talked.

You were so disappointed when we said good night.  "

And you didn't even come to say goodbye.  "

"But it was not goodbye."

"How could you know that?"

"I did know it.  I was determined that we should meet again.  It would
have been such a tragedy if we had not."

"You are talking to lull me to security.  I want to go back.  I must go
back to my cousin."

He stopped the horse; and suddenly he kissed me; it was the strangest
kiss I had ever received.  But then who had ever kissed me before?

Father on the forehead; mother on both cheeks; a peck once on my return
from Aunt Caroline; Aunt Matilda did not kiss at all; she had heard
that it was not a practice to be unnecessarily indulged in as it was a
means of passing on germs.  But this kiss seemed to drain me of all
resistance; it made me feel exalted and expectant all at once.  It was
cruel and yet tender; it was passionate and caressing.

I drew away and said shakily, "Take me back ... at once."

"You should not have been turned out on the Night of the Seventh Moon,"
he said; and he laughed rather cruelly, I thought; his eyes gleamed
through the mask and the horns made him look like a Viking raider.

I said angrily: "Whom do you represent tonight?"

"Just myself," he replied.

"You seem to have the impression that you are some invader who can
seize women and carry them off and behave as you like."

"And don't you think I can?"  He put his face close to mine,
laughing.

"No," I cried fiercely.

"Not with me.  Perhaps with some ... but not with me."

"Lenchen," he said, 'do you swear that that is not what you want?  "

"I don't understand you."

"Swear by the moon, by the seventh moon, that your great est wish is
for me to take you back to your cousin's house."

"But of course you must ..."

He brought his face closer to mine.

"It is dangerous to swear by the seventh moon."

"Do you think I'm afraid of fairy stories or of you?"

"You are more afraid of yourself, I think."

"Will you please say clearly ^what you mean."

"Lenchen, I have thought of you constantly since that night when we
supped together and it ended there."

"How could you possibly think it could end any other way?"

"Easily-and so did you."

"I... I do not indulge in such adventures, I assure you."

"The assurance is unnecessary.  I know it."

But of course you cannot say the same.  Such adventures are commonplace
with you.  "

"There has never been an adventure like that one.  You made it unique
and now here we are again.  Lenchen, stay with me.  Don't ask me to
take you back to your cousin's house."

"I must.  She will be frantic with anxiety."

"Is that the reason ... the only reason?"

"No.  I want to go back ... because ..."

"Because you have been brought up by the nuns, but if I were your
husband you would be very happy riding off alone with me."

I was silent.

"It's true, Lenchen," he cried.

"They have instilled these ideas into you.  You have chosen the path of
respectability or at least it has been chosen for you; and no matter
what ecstasy, what joy, what pleasure I could give you, it would always
be incomplete unless you were my wife."

"You are talking nonsense," I said.

"Please take me home."

"It could have been so perfect," he said.

"I know that, and it must not be less than perfect.  Lenchen," he went
on sadly, 'there has never been such a night as that when we met.  I
dreamed of it; every time the mist fell I wanted to ride out and look
for you.  It was absurd, wasn't it?  But you want to go home so I will
take you.  "

He turned the horse and we rode in silence.  I was held tightly against
him and I was happy.  I knew now that I loved him.  He had excited me
as no other person ever had or I was sure ever could; but when he
turned the horse towards the village I loved him because although I was
inexperienced I was conscious of an almost uncontrollable desire which
he held in check by tenderness for me and which seemed to me the very
essence of romance and that was what told me that I loved him.

I could hear the shouts of revellers as we approached the town; I saw
the glow from the flares; one or two people passed us couples mostly,
on their way to the forest.  We did not go right into the Altstadt but
skirted it and I directed him

to my cousin's house.

He sprang out of the saddle and lifted me down; as he did so for a few
seconds he held me in his arms and kissed me tenderly this time.

"Good night, little Lenchen."

I felt an impulse to tell him that we must meet again, that it was
because I was worried about Ilse that I wanted to go in.  But it wasn't
only that.  I did not know who he was; I did / know, though, that it
was not unusual for him to take a woman to the hunting lodge; I knew
that the silk nightdress and the blue velvet robe had probably been put
there for one of them, and that he had intended that I should provide
him with the same brief amusement as others had.

But my guardian angel had saved me and now I had saved myself
unwillingly, reluctantly, it was true, but I knew that I was right.

He did not suggest another meeting.  He let me go; and before I reached
the porch I heard his horse's hoofs on the road.

Ilse dashed out of the house.

"Helena!  Whatever has happened?"

I told her the story.  I had lost her.  I had lost my shoe.  One of the
revellers had brought me home.

"I've been beside myself," she cried.

"I couldn't think what to do for the best.  I roamed about looking for
you, then I thought I had better come back here and get a search-party
together."

"It's all right now.  Ilse.  I was worried about you.  I came back as
soon as I could."

"You must be exhausted."

Exhausted!  I was exhilarated and depressed, exultant and frustrated.

My feelings were in a whirl.

She looked at me oddly.

"Go to bed," she said, 'and I'll bring you up some hot milk.  It'll
make you sleep.  "

Nothing could make me sleep that night.

I lay there going over it all.  The words he had said; the
implications; he had wanted to take me to the hunting lodge.  I
wondered if Hildegarde was there.

And then as I went over every detail I said to myself: I've lost him
now.  This is the second time.  I shall never see him again.

One thing I knew was that all my life I should be haunted by him.  I
should never forget him.

I slept late next morning for I had only dozed fitfully throughout the
night until dawn and then fallen into a deep slumber.

The sun was streaming into my room when I awoke and a great sadness
descended on me.  He had gone; he had explained as clearly as he could
that since I could not be his companion of a night or so it was better
that we should part.

I dressed lethargically and took breakfast on the little terrace at the
back of the house but I had little appetite.  I said I would go for a
walk into the town during the morning and perhaps do a little shopping
for Ilse.

When I returned to the house Ilse came to the door.  There was a
strange look on her face, as near to excitement as I had ever seen
her.

She said, "There is a visitor to see you."

"A visitor?"

"Count Lokenberg."

I stared at her.

"Who on earth is that?"

"Go and see."  And she drew me towards the sitting-room, opened the
door and pushed me forward.  She shut the door on us so that we were
alone, which seemed a strange thing for her to do.  At home I should
not have been left alone with a man-and here the codes of behaviour
were as strict as those at home-perhaps more so.

But already I had seen him.  He looked incongruous in this little
room;

he filled it with his presence.

"I've discarded my head-dress," he said.

"I hope you recognize me without it."

"You ... Count Lokenberg!  What are you doing here?"

"I am sure Aunt Caroline would be shocked at your manner of greeting a
visitor, and you usually set such store on not shocking her."

I felt the colour rising in my cheeks and I knew my eyes were
sparkling, I was so happy.

"I can't think where Ilse is," I stammered.

"Obeying orders."  He took my hands.

"Lenchen," he said, "I've been thinking of you all night.  And you,
have you been thinking of me?"

"Almost all night," I admitted.

"I did not sleep till dawn."

"You wanted to come with me, didn't you?  You were calling out for me
to abduct you and carry you away to the lodge.  Confess it."

"If it could have happened and then not have happened ..."  and could
have been a sort of dream .  "

"Impossible, my darling.  But you were frightened, and that was the
last thing I wanted.  I want you more than I've ever wanted anything .
but you must be equally eager and willing.  It's no use otherwise.

You must want to come to me as much as I want you to.  "

"Is that one of your conditions?"

He nodded.

I said: "You didn't tell me who you were."

"Siegfried sounded so much more to your taste."

"And then Odin or Loke.  And all the time you are this count."

"A hero or a god is more impressive than a count."

"But a count is more real."

"And you prefer reality."

"If there is going to be any permanency there must be reality."

"My practical Lenchen, you know I'm obsessed by you."

"Are you?"

"Your smile is radiant.  You know I am ... as you are with me.  I make
no conditions."

"Conditions?"

"You understand, Lenchen.  If we had made our vows before a priest you
would not have said " Go back".  You would have said " Go on"; and your
eagerness would have equalled my own.  Confess it.  You don't hide your
feelings one bit.  I know what you are thinking all the time.  It's
there in your face ... your lovely young face.  I know every detail.

I have dreamed of it every night and seen it every day since I found
you in the forest.  I love you, Lenchen, and you love me, and love like
ours must be fulfilled.  That is why we shall make our vows before the
priest and then you will have no fears.  You will be free to love.  You
will not see Aunt Caroline in your mind's eye raising shocked hands;

there will be no worrying about nuns or your cousin .  nothing but us
and that's how I wish it to be.  "

"You are asking me to marry you?"

"And what do you say?"

I did not have to answer.  As I said, I betrayed myself.

"Tomorrow," I said.

"How can it be tomorrow?  People don't marry like that."

Here they could, he told me.  He would arrange it.  If he commanded a
priest to marry him that priest would obey him.  It would be a simple
ceremony.  The priest would come into the house, either this or the
hunting lodge.  It had been done before.  I could safely leave
everything to him.

I was bemused.  I could not get rid of the idea that I was in the
company of a supernatural being.  Perhaps that's how it always is when
one is in love.  The loved one is unique, of course, but more than
that, perfect.  Everything had changed;

the whole world seemed to be mad with joy; the birds sang more
joyously; the grass was greener, the flowers more beautiful; the sun
shone with a new warmth; and the moon, honey-coloured, lying a little
on its side still almost full, wise and benign to lovers-seemed to be
laughing because Helena Trant loved Count Lokenberg and all
difficulties were to be swept aside by the priest before whom they were
to make their vows to love and cherish until death parted them.

"But how is it possible?"  I asked Ilse and Ernst when he dined with us
that night.

"Surely marriages cannot be arranged like that?"

"Ours is a simple ceremony," explained Ilse.

"It is often performed in the house of the bride or the bridegroom, if
that is more convenient.  The Count is a man of great power in these
parts."

A man of great power!  I was fully aware of that.  Ilse spoke his name
with reverence.

"It seems so sudden," I said, without any real protest and not really
wanting to enquire too deeply into the ethics of the matter because I
only wanted to be assured that the marriage could take place.

Ilse brought up hot milk when I was in bed; she seemed to think it
necessary to cos set me a little.  All I wanted was to be alone to
think of this wonderful thing which had happened to me.

A message came from the Count in the early morning.  The marriage was
to be celebrated at the hunting lodge.  He had the priest waiting
there. Ilse and Ernst were to drive me over.  It was a three hours'
drive but they made no difficulty about it; they seemed somewhat
overawed by him. His name was not Siegfried but Maximilian, in fact.  I
had laughed when he told me.

"It sounds like one of the Holy Roman Emperors."

'"" hy shouldn't it?  " he demanded.

"That's what it is.  Don't

you think I'm worthy to be named after such people?  "

"It suits you admirably," I told him.

"I could never call you Max.  It doesn't fit you.  Maximilian, you see,
is rather like Siegfried in a way.  It suggests a leader."

"Maximilian!"  I said his name to myself a hundred times that day.  I
kept telling Ilse that I seemed to be living in a dream; I was afraid
that I would wake up to discover that I had imagined everything.  Ilse
laughed at me.

"You are bemused," she said.

Then I told her how I had been lost in the mist and how Maximilian
seemed like some sort of god, quite unreal, but I didn't go into
details about that night in the forest and how the handle of my door
had turned and the presence of Hildegarde had made all the
difference.

I packed my case and we set out for the hunting lodge.  It was about
four o'clock in the afternoon when we reached it.  There was a grove of
firs quite near which I remembered vaguely noticing on the morning when
Hildegarde had taken me back to the Damenstift.  We came to the two
stone posts on either side of the gate; and as we drove through them
Fsaw Maximilian on the steps under the porch.

He came towards us hurriedly: and my heart leaped with joy at the sight
of him, as I believed it always would at the sight of him for the rest
of my life.

"I expected you half an hour before," he said reproachfully.

Ilse replied meekly that we had left in good time.

He took my hand and his eyes gleamed as they swept over me; I was so
happy because of his impatience.

What happened next was like a dream, which made it easy afterwards for
me to wonder whether that was what it really had been.

The hall had been arranged to look rather like a chapel and waiting
there was a man whose black garb proclaimed him to be a priest.

"There is no point in delay," said Maximilian.

I said I would like to comb my hair and change my dress before I was
married.

Maximilian looked at me in tender exasperation but I was allowed my own
way and soon Hildegarde was taking me up to the room I remembered so
well where I had spent that night so long ago.

I said: "Hildegarde, how good it is to see you again."

She smiled but she did not appear to be very happy about our meeting.
She had a habit of shaking her head so that she looked like some
prophet of evil.  At least that was the impression I had.  I was too
excited to think much about her, though.  There I was in that room with
the window looking out on the pine trees, and it seemed filled with a
faintly resinous odour which I never failed to associate with that room
in the hunting lodge, and that feeling of almost unbearable excitement
which I experienced on that other occasion and which I was to find
could only be inspired by one man in the whole of life.

Alone I washed and took a dress from my bag.  It was slightly crumpled,
but it was my best dress; it was of a green silky material with a
monk's collar of velvet of a slightly darker shade of green.  Not
exactly a wedding dress but more fitting for the occasion than the
blouse and skirt in which I had travelled.

I looked into the cupboard and there was the blue velvet robe which I
had worn that night.

I went downstairs where they were waiting for me.

Maximilian took my hand and led me to the priest who was standing
before a table which had an embroidered cloth on it and candles in tall
alabaster sticks.

The service was in German and brief.  Maximilian swore to love and
cherish me as I did him and he placed on my finger a plain gold ring
which was just a little too big for it.

The service was over.  I was the wife of Maximilian, Count Lokenberg.

It was evening and we supped as we had on that other occasion; but how
different was this.  I wore the blue velvet robe and my hair loose and
I can say without reservation that I have never known such complete
happiness as I did on that night.  I could revel in my happiness with
no fears that I would be missed.  Everything seemed right and natural
and it did not occur to me that there could be anything strange about
this until afterwards.

We talked; we touched hands across the table; his eyes never left me;

they seemed to scorch me with the intensity of their passion.  I was
bewildered and ignorant but I knew that I was on the threshold of the
greatest adventure of my life.

Together we mounted the stairs to the bridal chamber which had been
prepared for us.

I shall never forget it; nor any moment of that night It

was the memory of this which afterwards, I believed, helped me retain
my sanity; an inexperienced girl could not have imagined such a
night;

how could she have imagined Maximilian the lover if she had never
experienced loving before?

When I awoke to find him beside me I lay very still for a long time
thinking of this wonderful thing that had happened to me, and tears
slowly started to fall down my cheeks.

He awoke to see them.

I told him they were tears of happiness and wonder because I had never
known there could be anything in the world like marriage to him.

He kissed them away and we lay quietly for a while; then we were gay
again.

What can I say of those days?  Summer days in which so much happened
and which seemed so brief.  He said he would teach me to ride, for I
had never done anything but amble about on a pony.  Riding was not one
of the accomplishments the nuns had thought necessary to teach.  I was
a good pupil, being determined to excel at everything in his eyes.  In
the afternoons we walked in the forest; we lay under the trees in a
close embrace; he talked of his love for me and I of mine for him;

that subject seemed to absorb us both.

But I must know more, I told him.  The honeymoon would be over.  I
would go to his home.  I wanted to know what would be expected of me
there.

"I am the only one who is allowed to expect anything of you," he
parried.

"Of course.  Sir Count.  Yet presumably you have a family."

"I have a family," he said.

"And what of them?"

"They will need to be prepared for you."

"Had they intended you to marry someone of their choice?"

"But of course.  That is the way with families."

"And they will not be pleased that you have married a girl you found in
the mist."

"It is only important that I should be pleased and I am."

"Thank you," I said flippantly.

"I'm glad I give satisfaction."

"Complete and utter satisfaction."

"So you do not regret?"

He held me hungrily against him then and his embrace was as painful as
I had found it before, but there was always an ecstasy in the pain.

"I shall never regret."

"But I must prepare myself for your family."

"When the time is ripe you'll meet them."

"It is not ripe yet?"

"Hardly.  They know nothing about you."

"Whom do we have to placate?"

"Too many to enumerate."

"So it is a large family and your father is an ogre.  Or is it your
mother?"

"She would be an ogress, wouldn't she?  The feminine, you know."

"How meticulous you have become."

"Now that I have an English wife I must master the language."

"You are already a master."

"In some respects, yes.  In language not entirely."

I began to discover that whenever I tried to talk of his family the
talk took a flippant turn.  He did not wish to talk of it and for those
first few days, which I wanted to be perfect, I did not insist.

I knew that he came of a noble family; his father, whom he mentioned
briefly, would probably have wished to arrange a marriage for him after
the manner of noble families, and it would be a shock for him to learn
that we were married.  Naturally we would have to wait until he had
warned them and the time, as Maximilian said, was ripe.

So we joked and laughed and made love and that was enough for me.

He told me stories of the forest in which the legends of the past
played a great part.  I learned more of the mischievous tricks of Loke
and the amazing exploits of Thor with his hammer.  There was only
Hildegarde to wait on us and cook for us and Hans to manage the horses
apart from those two we were alone in our enchanted world.

On the second day I went into one of the rooms and opening the cupboard
found a lot of clothes; I knew that the white silk nightdress which I
had been given on my first visit to the lodge had come from this
store.

Why, I asked myself, were they kept here?

I asked Hildegarde to whom the clothes belonged and she shrugged her
shoulders and pretended not to understand my German, which was absurd
because I was fluent.

That night when we lay together in the big bed I said:

"Whose are the clothes in the blue room cupboards?"

He took a piece of my hair and wound it round his finger.

"Do you want them?"  he said.

"Want them?  They must belong to someone else."

He laughed.

"Someone I knew kept them here," he said.

"Because she came often?"

"It saved carrying them to and fro."

"A friend of yours .. s' " A friend, yes.  "

"A great friend?"

"I don't have friends like that now."

"You mean of course that she was your mistress."

"My darling, that is over now.  I have started a new life."

"But why are her clothes here?"

"Because someone forgot to take them away."

"I wish they had not been here.  I shall be afraid to open cupboards
for fear of what I shall find."

"I was first Siegfried the hero," he said.

"After that I was the mischievous Loke, followed by Odin, and now it
seems I have become Bluebeard.  I believe he had a wife who looked
where it would have been better if she had not.  I've always forgotten
what happened to the meddlesome lady but I believe it was something
regrettable from her point of view."

"Are you telling me not to ask questions?"

"It is always better not to when you have a good idea that the answer
is not very pleasant."

"There have been many women, I believe.  You waylaid them in the forest
and brought them here."

"That only happened once and I did not waylay.  I found my own true
love."

"But many have come here."

"It's a convenient meeting-place."

"And you have told them that you would love them for ever."

"Without any real conviction."

"And on this occasion?"

"With the utmost conviction because if it were not so I would be the
most unhappy instead of the happiest man alive."

"So there have been others ... countless others."

"There have been no others ...."

"I can't believe that."

"You don't let me finish.  There have been no others like you.  There
will never be another like you.  Women have been here, yes.  Not one
but several and it has been .  agreeable.  But there is only one
Lenchen."

"That is why you married me."

He kissed me fervently.

"One day," he said earnestly, 'you will understand how much I love you.
"

"I know so little."

"What do you need to know but that I love you?"

"In our everyday life there is more than that."

"There is never more than that."

"But I have to prepare myself for our life together.  Am I really a
countess now?  It seems rather a grand thing to be."

"We are a small country," he said.

"Do not imagine that we compete with your great one' " But a count is a
count and a countess a countess.  "

"Some are great, others are small.  Remember this is a country with
many principalities and little dukedoms.  Why, there are many people
with high-sounding titles which don't count for very much.  There are
some dukedoms which consist of the big house, and a village street or
two and that is.  the sole domain.  In the not very distant days some
of our estates were so small and so poor that if there were five or six
brothers they would each have had only a pittance.  They used to draw
lots or rather straws.  The father would hold the straws in his hand
one was a short one, the others all of the same length.  The son who
drew the short one inherited everything."

"Have you many brothers?"

"I am an only son."

"Then they will be particularly eager for you to marry whom they choose
for you."

"They will in time be enchanted with my choice."

"I wish I could be sure of it."

"You have only to rely on me ... now and for ever."

When I was about to ask more questions he kissed me again and again.  I
wondered whether it was to silence me.  '

Three days had passed and the blissful existence continued.  I had a
strange feeling that I must cling to each moment, savour and treasure
it so that I could re-live it in the years to come.  Was it a
premonition?  Did I really have it?  Or was it all part of a fantastic
dream?

Those summer days were full of excitement and pleasure;

the sun shone perpetually; we spent the afternoon in the

forest and hardly ever saw anyone.  Each evening we supped together
and I wore the blue robe which he told me he had bought on impulse.

"To give to one of your friends whom you brought to the lodge?"  I
asked.

"I never gave it to anyone.  It hung in the cupboard waiting for
you."

"You speak as though you knew you were going to find me in the mist."

He leaned across the table then and said: "Doesn't everyone dream of
the day the only one in the world will come?"

It was the sort of answer he could make so convincingly.  He was indeed
the perfect lover; he could capture the mood one needed at any
particular time.  At first he had been tender and gentle, almost as
though he withheld a passion which he was aware might alarm me.  My
experiences in those three days and nights were many and varied and
each was more revealing and exciting than what had gone before.

It was small wonder that I preferred to forget the realities of life.

Just for a while I wanted to live in this enchantment.

Early on the morning of the fourth day after my marriage we were
awakened at dawn by the sounds of horses' hoofs and voices below.

Maximilian went down and I lay listening, waiting for his return.

When he did come, I knew that something was wrong.  I rose and he took
my hands in his and kissed me.

"Bad news, Lenchen," he said.

"I have to go to my father."

"Is he ill?"

"He's in trouble.  I'll have to leave in an hour at the latest."

"Where?"  I cried.

"Where shall you go?"

"Everything will be all right," he said.

"There's not time tor explanations now.  I'll have to get ready."

I ran round getting his things together; I put the blue velvet robe
over my nightdress, for I had begun to use it as a dressing-gown, and
went to call Hildegarde.

She was preparing coffee and the smell of it filled the kitchen

Maximilian, dressed and ready for a journey, was clearly very
unhappy.

"It's unbearable, Lenchen, to leave you like this ... during our
honeymoon."

"Can't I come with you?"

He took my hands and gazed into my face.

"If only that were possible!"

"Why not?"

He just shook his head and held me close to him.

"Stay here, my darling, until I come back.  It will be the very first
moment that is possible."

"I shall be so unhappy without you."

"As I shall be without you.  Oh Lenchen, there are no regrets none at
all.  There never will be.  I know it."

Questions were on my lips.

"I know nothing.  Where is your father?

Where are you going?  How shall I be able to write to you?  " There was
so much I wanted to know.  But he was telling me how much he loved me,
how important I was to him, how once we had met it was clear to him
that the rest of our lives must be lived together.

He said, "My darling, I'll be back with you very soon."

"Where can I write you?"

"Don't," he said.

"I'll come back.  Just wait here for me to come.

That's all, Lenchen.  "

Then he was gone and I was alone.

How desolate the lodge seemed.  It was quiet, almost eerie.  I did not
know how to pass the time.  I went from room to room.  There was the
first one in which I had spent that uneasy night.  I touched the door
handle and thought of his standing outside, wanting me to have left it
unlocked.  Then I went to that other room in which were another woman's
clothes and wondered what she was like; and I thought of all the women
whom he had loved or professed to love.  They would be beautiful, gay,
experienced and clever, probably; I was wildly jealous, and deeply
aware of my own inadequacies.  But I was the one whom he had married.

I would have to learn a great deal.  Countess Lokenberg!  Could that
grand-sounding title really be mine?  I turned the ring on my finger
and thought of the paper which I kept carefully in my bag which said
that on the 20th July of the year 1860 Helena Trant had married
Maximilian, Count Lokenberg, and the witnesses to their union were
Ernst and Ilse Gleiberg.

There was the day to be lived through.  How desolate the house was; how
lonely was I!

I went into the forest.  I walked down to the grove of pine

trees; I sat down under one of them and thought of all that had
happened to me.

I wondered what the aunts would say when they heard that I had become
the wife of a German count.  What would the Grevilles say, and the
Clees?  It all seemed so fantastic when one considered those people. 
It was the sort of thing that could have happened only in an enchanted
forest.

When I went back to the lodge to my surprise Ilse and Ernst had
arrived.

"The Count called on us on his way," they explained.

"He had suddenly made up his mind that he did not want you to stay at
the lodge while he was away.  He said it was too lonely.  He wants you
to come back to us.  He'll come straight to us on his return."

I was only too pleased.  I put my things together and in the late
afternoon we left.  It was a relief in a way to get away from the lodge
in which I had known such happiness; it would be easier to wait in the
company of Ilse.

It was dark when we reached the house.

Ilse said I must be tired out and she insisted on my going straight to
bed.

She came to me with the inevitable hot milk.

I drank it and was very quickly in a deep slumber.

And when I awoke of course the forest idyll was over and the nightmare
had begun.

The Nightmare

ONE

When I awoke it appeared to be late afternoon.  For a moment I could
not think where I was; then I remembered that Ilse and Ernst had
brought me from the lodge yesterday.  I glanced at the clock on the
bedside table. It said a quarter to five.

I raised myself and a pain shot through my head; I could not think what
had happened to me.  The walls of the room seemed to close in on me, my
head was swimming, and I felt sick.

I'm ill, I thought.  Worse still, my mind seemed confused.  Only
yesterday I had awakened glowing with good health with Maximilian
beside me.  I must have caught some sickness.

I tried to get up but I could not stand.  I sank back into bed.

I called feebly: "Ilse!"

She came in, looking very worried.

"Ilse.  What's happened to me?"

She studied me intently.

"You don't remember ...?"

"But I was all right when we came back here last evening."

She bit her lips and looked uncertain.

"My dear," she said, 'don't worry, we'll look after you.  "

But .  "

"You are feeling ill.  Try to rest.  Try to go back to sleep."

"Rest!  How can I?  What's happened?  Why have you Suddenly become so
mysterious?"

"It's all right, Helena.  You mustn't worry.  You must try to sleep and
forget ..."

"Forget!  What do you mean?  Forget?  Forget what?"

Ilse said: Tm going to call Ernst.  "

As she went to the door, a terrible feeling of foreboding came to me.

I thought: Maximilian is dead.  Is that what they are trying to tell
me?

Ernst came in, looking very grave.  He took my wrist and| felt my
pulse as though he were a doctor.  He looked significantly at Ilse.  '
"Are you trying to tell me that I've got some disease?"  I". 
demanded.

| "You had better tell her.  Ilse," he said.  | "You have been in bed
since you came back on that night.  It ;

is six days since then.  " ;

"I've been in bed for six days!  Has anyone told Maximilian?"

Ilse put her hand on my forehead.

"Helena, you have been delirious.  It was a terrible thing that
happened to you.  I blame myself.  I should never have allowed you to
go in the first place and then to lose you there."

"I don't understand."

"I think it would be better if she knew the truth," said Ernst.

"On the Night of the Seventh Moon," said Ilse, 'we went out.  You
remember that?  "

"But of course."

"You remember our being in the square and watching the revellers?"

I nodded.

"We were separated and I was frantic.  I searched everywhere for you
but I couldn't find you.  I wandered round looking over the town for
you and then I thought you might have come back to the house so I came
back, but you weren't here.  Ernst and I went out then looking for
you.

When we couldn't find you we were frantic with anxiety.  We were going
out again to search for you when you came back.  Oh Helena, I shall
never forget the sight of you.  That we should have allowed it.  "

"But when I came back you understood that I had been brought back by
Maximilian."

Ilse was looking at me shaking her head.

"You came back in a pitiable condition.  Your clothes were torn; you
were dazed with shock.  You were delirious.  You were incoherent, but
we knew what had happened.  It has happened to young girls before on
such nights ... but that it should have happened to you, Helena, in our
charge ... a carefully nurtured girl with little knowledge of the
world1 could not face your aunts.

Oh, Helena, Ernst and I have been beside ourselves with anxiety.  "

I cried out: "That's not true.  Maximilian brought me back here.  The
next day he called and asked me to marry him.  We were married by the
priest in the lodge."

Ilse put a hand over her eyes and Ernst turned away as if overcome by
emotion.

At length she sat on the bed and took my hand.

"My dearest child," she said, 'you must not worry.  We will look after
you.  As soon as you face the truth you will grow away from it.  I will
tell you bluntly what happened on the Night of the Seventh Moon.  You
were lost; you were taken into the forest, I believe, and there
criminally assaulted.  You found your way back to us, so shocked that
you didn't seem to remember clearly what happened.  We put you to bed
and called in an old doctor friend of Ernst's to see you.  His advice
was that you should be given sedatives until your mind and body had
recovered from the shock.  He has been to see you every day .  "

"Every day.  But I have not been here!"

"Yes, Helena, you have been in this bed ever since that terrible night
when you stumbled in."

"It's not possible."

"There!"  Ilse patted my hand.

"It has been a nightmare but you're going to put it out of your mind.
It is the only way."

"But he came here," I cried.

"You know he came here.  We were married.

You two were witnesses.  " I felt for the ring he had put on my finger
and turned cold with terror because it was not there.

"My ring," I said.

"Where is my ring?  Someone has taken it."

"Ring, Helena?  What ring is this?"

"My wedding-ring."

Again those significant looks passed between them.

"Helena, I wish you'd try to rest," said Ilse.

"We can talk about this tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!"  I cried.

"How can I rest until tomorrow?"

Ilse said: "We must be clear because I can see that you will have no
rest until you have rid your mind of this hallucination."

"Hallucination ..."

"Perhaps we were wrong, Ernst.  But we thought it best.  Dr.  Carlsberg
is a brilliant doctor.  He is in advance of his time.  He thought that
he must do all he could to blot out that shocking memory until your
mind had had time to adjust itself."

"Please, please, tell me what happened."

"You came home in this terrible condition.  Some brute had n.o.s.m.

found you in the crowd and somehow got you to the forest .  close to
the Altstadt.  There he assaulted you.  Thank God you found your way
back to us.  "

T don't believe it.  Surely I know what happened to me .  Maximilian
Count Lokenberg brought me back.  We were married at the lodge.  You
know we were.  You and Ernst were witnesses.  "

Ilse shook her head.  She repeated slowly:

"When you came back ... we got you to bed and we called Dr.
Carlsberg.

We knew what had happened.  It was painfully obvious.  He gave you some
medicine in order to calm you and make you sleep.  He said you had had
a terrible shock and in view of what we could tell him about your
family he thought it wiser to keep you under his care until you were
well enough to grasp what had happened.  You have been under sedation
for the last few days but he did say that this was likely to produce
hallucinations.  In fact that's what he hoped.  "

It was the second time she had used that word.  I was really frightened
now.

She added: "Helena, you must believe me.  Since you came home on that
terrible night you have not left this bed."

"It's impossible."

"It's true.  Ernst will bear me out, and so will Dr.  Carlsberg when
you see him.  You have been raving about someone called Maximilian. But
you have been here in your bed all the time."

"But ... I am married."

"My dear, try to rest now.  Let's sort it out in the morning."

I looked from one to the other.  They watched me with compassion.  Ilse
murmured: "If only ... We should never have gone out without you,
Ernst.  If we had stayed indoors.  Oh God, if only we'd stayed
indoors."

I thought: I am dreaming.  I shall wake up in a moment and find this is
a nightmare.

"Ernst," said Ilse, 'perhaps you'd better ask Dr.  Carlsberg to come
and see Helena at once.  "

I lay back on my pillow.  I felt exhausted yet convinced that at any
moment I would wake up to reality.

I touched my finger believing that my ring would miraculously be there.
I had promised when Maximilian had put it on that I would never take it
off.

When I opened my eyes I was alone.

I felt a little better; the dazed feeling was beginning to pass.

Of course I had proof.  It was strange about my ring.  Could it have
slipped off my finger?  It had been rather loose and might be in the
bed somewhere.  But why should my cousin Ilse pretend that I had been
in my bed for six days if I had not?  Six days!  It was impossible. 
One could not be unconscious for six days.  Under sedation?  Those
words were ominous.  And why should Ilse and Ernst, who had been so
kind to me, tell such a story?  What could be their motive?  I had had
nothing but kindness from them and they seemed as though they were
trying to help me now.

Oh no, I could not believe what they were telling me.  I would stand
against that.  They were saying that instead of the man I loved, the
noble count, who to me was the very essence of romance and my own
husband, was a man who took women and forced them to submit to him and
then abandoned them.  I would not believe that.  And yet they said I
had been here for six days.

It was impossible.  Yet Ilse and Ernst said it was so.  Why?

If I could find that ring I could prove to them .  It must be in the
bed.  It must have slipped off my finger.  But if it had, then my
cousin was lying to me.  Why?

I got out of bed.  The room swam round but I was determined to ignore
that.  I searched the bed but I could not find the ring.  Perhaps it
had rolled on to the floor.  I could find it nowhere.  I was feeling
faint but the great need to find this symbol of my marriage urged me
on.

What could have happened to the ring?

I was glad to get back into bed because searching for it had exhausted
me.

I lay there trying to fight off the terrible drowsiness which was
persisting.  But I could not and when I awoke it was to find Ilse at my
bedside with a strange man.

He was middle-aged, bearded, with piercing blue eyes.

"This is Dr.  Carlsberg," said Dse.

I half raised myself.

"There is so much I want to know."

He nodded.

"I understand."

"You would like me to leave you," said Ilse; and he nodded again.

When she had gone he sat beside the bed and said, "How are you
feeling?"

"That I am going mad," I told him.

"You have been under the influence of certain sedatives," he said.

"So they told me.  But I do not believe ..."

He smiled.

"Your dreams have seemed as real as life," he said.

"That is what I expected.  They were pleasant dreams."

"I don't believe they were dreams.  I can't."

"But they were pleasant.  They were just what you wanted to happen. Was
that so?"

"I was very happy."

He nodded.

"It was necessary.  You were in a deplorable state when I was called
in."

"You mean on the Night of the Seventh Moon?"

"That's what it is called, yes.  You had been out amongst the
revellers, lost your cousin and that happened.  It had shocked you
perhaps even more than a young girl would normally be shocked in such
circumstances.  It was a mercy you were not murdered."

I shivered.  It was not like that at all.  I was brought home.  "

That is the result we wanted to achieve.  We wanted to blot out the
memory as soon as it became unpleasant.  It seems that it worked.  "

"I can't believe it.  I won't believe it."

"You still find the need to shut out the evil.  That's natural, but you
can't be kept in that state any longer.  It could be dangerous.  Now
you have to emerge and face the facts."

"But I don't believe ..."

He smiled.

"I think we have saved you from a mental col lapse.  Your condition
when you came in on that night was terrifying.  Your cousin was afraid
for you.  That was why she called me.  But I think we have managed very
successfully and if we can work towards the fact that this was an
unfortunate accident deeply to be regretted, of course-but which has to
be accepted since it existed, then we shall get you back to perfect
health.  Others have suffered similarly; some have emerged and in time
led normal lives; others have been scarred for ever.  If you will try
to put this thing out of your mind, in time it will leave only the
smallest scar-perhaps none at all.  That is why I took a rather drastic
action on the Night of the Seventh Moon."

In spite of the fact that he looked so calm and professional, I could
not stop myself crying out in protest: "It isn't possible.  How could I
imagine so much?  It's fantastic.  I don't believe it and I won't
believe it.  You are deluding me."

He smiled at me sadly and gently.

"I'm going to prescribe something for you tonight," he said soothingly,
'something gentle.  You will sleep and tomorrow the dizziness will
have passed.

Tomorrow you will wake up fresh; then you will be able to see this more
clearly.  "

"I will never accept this fantastic story of yours," I told him
defiantly; but he only pressed my hand and went out.

Soon Ilse was back with a tray on which was a little boiled fish.  In
spite of my disturbed state I was able to eat the fish.  I drank the
milk she brought and before she came to take the tray away I was
asleep.

Next morning I felt a little better as the doctor said I would.  But
that only meant that my terrible apprehension had grown.  I could
picture Maximilian clearly, the tawny lights in his eyes and hair, the
deep timbre of his voice, the sound of his laughter.  And yet my
cousins and the doctor were telling me that he did not exist.

Ilse came in with a breakfast tray, her eyes anxious.

"How do you feel, Helena?"

"I'm no longer dizzy, but I'm very worried."

"You still believe that it happened as you dreamed?"

"Yes I do.  Of course I do."

She patted my hand.

"Don't think about it.  It will fall properly into place as you become
more yourself."

"Ilse, it must have happened."

She shook her head.

"You have been here all the time."

"If I could find my wedding-ring I could prove it.  It must have
slipped off my finger."

"Dear Helena, there was no wedding-ring."

I could not speak to her.  She was so convinced and alas, convincing.

"Eat this," she said.

"You'll feel stronger then.  Dr.  Carlsberg had a good talk with us
after he saw you last night.  He has been as anxious as we have.  He's
a very clever doctor ... much in advance of his times.  His methods are
not always liked.  People are old-fashioned.  He believes that the mind
controls the body to a large extent and he has always tried to prove
it.  People hate new ideas.  Ernst and I have always believed in
him."

That's why you called him in to me.  "

"Yes."

"And you say he gave me this sedation which produced these dreams."

"Yes, he believes that if some terrible misfortune overtakes

a person the mind and the body have a better chance of recovery if
they can be brought to a state of euphoria even if for a short time
only.  That is briefly his theory.  "

"So ... when this happened, as you say it did, he gave me this drug or
whatever it was to let me live in a false world for a few days.  Is
that what you mean?  It sounds crazy."

' "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in
your philosophy."  Didn't Hamlet say that?  It's true.  Oh, Helena, if
you could have seen yourself when you came back.  Your eyes were wild
and you were sobbing and talking incoherently.  I was terrified.  I
remembered my cousin Luisa .  that would be your mother's second
cousin. She was locked by accident in the family vault and spent a
night there. In the morning she was mad.  She was rather like you
rather gay and adventurous and I thought this could do to Helena what
that did to Luisa and I was determined and so was Ernst-that we would
try anything to save you.  So we thought of Dr.  Carlsberg and we
called him in.  Yours was just a case that he believed he could cure. 
"

"Ilse," I said, 'everything that happened is so clear to me.  I was
married in the hunting lodge.  I can remember such detail so vividly.
"

"I know, the dreams produced in this way are like that.  Dr.  Carlsberg
was telling us.  They have to be.  You have to be torn from this
tragedy .  and this is the only way."

"I won't believe it.  I can't."

"My dear, why should we, who wish only for your happiness, tell you
this if it were not so?"

"I don't know.  It's a terrible mystery, but I know I am the Countess
Lokenberg."

"How could you possibly be?  There is no Count Lokenberg!"

"So ... he made that up?"

"He didn't exist, Helena.  He was created out of the euphoric state
into which Dr.  Carlsberg had put you."

"But I had met him before."

I told her, as I was sure I had before, about our meeting in the mist,
my visit to the hunting lodge; and how he had sent me back to the
Damenstift.  She behaved as though she were hearing it for the first
time.

"That couldn't have been my euphoric dream, could it?  I was not under
Dr.  Carlsberg's sedation then."

"That was the source of your dream.  It was a romantic adventure.
Don't you see, what happened afterwards was based on that.

He took you to the hunting lodge, planning to seduce you perhaps.

After all, you agreed to go with him and he may have thought you were
willing.  Then he realized how young you were, a schoolgirl from the
Damenstift .  "

"He knew that from the beginning."

"His better nature prevailed; besides, there was the servant there.

You were brought home the next day none the worse for your adventure
and mentally this had had a great effect upon you.  Dr.  Carlsberg will
be so interested when he hears of this.  It will bear out his theory.

Then came the Night of the Seventh Moon; we lost each other and you
were accosted.  The man was masked, you have told us.  You believed
that he was the one whom you had met on another occasion.  "

"He was.  He called me " Lenchen".  It was the name he had called me
that first time.  No one else has ever called me that.  There was no
doubt who he was."

"That could have come up in your mind afterwards.  Or it might even
have been the man.  In any case on this second occasion his better
nature did not prevail.  I must tell Dr.  Carlsberg about this meeting
in the mist.  Or perhaps it would be better if you did."

I cried: "You are wrong.  You are wrong about everything."

She nodded.

"Perhaps it is better that for a while you do go on believing in your
dreams."

I did eat a little breakfast and as the physical sickness had passed I
got up.

I kept thinking of how I had opened the door of that room below and
found him, standing there.  I could experience the tingling joy the
sight of him had given me.

"We'll be married," he had said.  I had replied that people couldn't
get married just like that.  Here they could, he had assured me. 
Besides, he was a count and knew how to get things done.

I thought of riding to the hunting lodge and his impatience and the way
he had held me against him and the thrills of excitement he
communicated to me.  I thought of the simple ceremony with the
priest.

The marriage lines!  Of course I had them.  I had put them away
carefully.  They were in the top drawer of the dressing- table.  I
remembered putting them with the few pieces of jewellery I possessed,
in the little sandalwood box which had been my mother's.

There was the box.  I brought it out joyfully.  I lifted the

lid.  The jewellery was there, but no marriage lines.

I stared at it blankly.  No ring.  No marriage lines.  No proof.  It
was beginning to look more and more as though they were right and my
romance and my marriage were indeed something induced by the doctor's
treatment to wipe out the terrible memory of the dreadful thing that
had happened to me.

I don't know how I got through the day.  When I looked at my face in
the mirror I saw another person.  My high cheekbones stood out more
than ever; there were faint shadows under my eyes; but it was the
despair which was so startling.  The face which looked back at me was
touched with a certain hopelessness and that was when I knew that I was
beginning to believe them.

Dr.  Carlsberg came to see me during the morning.  He was delighted, he
said, that I was up.  He wanted nothing put in the way of my
improvement.  He was sure that what had to be done now was face the
truth.

He sat beside me; he wanted me to talk, to say anything that came into
my mind.  I explained to him what I had told Ilse, about the meeting in
the mist and the night I had spent at the lodge.  He did not attempt to
persuade me that I had dreamed that.

"If it were possible," he said, "I should like to obliterate completely
from your mind what happened on the Night of the Seventh Moon.  That is
not possible.  The memory is not like a piece of writing in pencil
which can be wiped out with an eraser.  But it is over.  No good can
come by preserving the memory of it.  So we must come as near to
forgetting as possible.  I am glad that you are here ... away from your
home.  When you return to England which I hope you will not think of
doing for at least two months-you will go among people who have not
heard what has happened.  This will help you to push the affair right
to the back of your mind.  No one will be able to remind you because
they do not know what has happened."

I said, "Dr.  Carlsberg, I can't believe you.  I can't believe my
cousins.  Something in me tells me that I am married and that it all
happened as I am sure it did."

He smiled, rather pleased.

"You are still in need of that belief.

Perhaps it is better for you to cling to it for a while.  In due course
you will feel strong enough to be without it and the truth will be more
important to you than the crutch these dreams are at the moment
offering you.  "

"The time works out perfectly," I said.

"The second day after the Night of the Seventh Moon we were married and
on the morning of the fourth day news came to him that his father was
in trouble, and he went.  Then the next day I woke up in the room
above.  It's simply impossible that I was there all that time."

"Yet that is what you will accept in time when you are strong enough to
discard your crutch."

"I can't believe I imagined him."

"You have attached him to this adventurer you met in the mist.  You
have told me that your mother often recounted fairy stories and legends
of the forest.  You came here in a receptive mood; you half believed in
the gods and heroes.  You say you called him Siegfried.

This made "you an easy subject for this experiment.  I am sorry that
you were used in this way, but, believe me, it has probably saved your
reason."

"Why should I have thought of such a marriage?"

"Because you were no longer a virgin and you had thought, as a
respectably brought-up girl, that this could not be the case without
marriage.  That's an easy conclusion.  Your terror when you knew what
was happening to you has to find its opposite so the dreams gave you
this ecstatic union."

"Why should I have thought him to be a count?  I never thought of
marrying a count."

"He had seemed all-powerful-rich, a nobleman.  That is easily
explained."

"But Lokenberg."

"Well, we are in the Lokenwald.  The name of the town is Lokenburg. Ah,
I think I have it.  There is a Count Lokenberg."

My heart began to beat wildly.  I cried: "Then take me to him.  I am
sure he must be Maximilian.  I know he was not lying to me."

Dr.  Carlsberg rose; he led me out of the room and took me to a picture
which was hanging on the wall.  I had noticed it when I arrived but had
not studied it particularly.  It was a picture of a bearded man, more
elderly than middle-aged, in uniform.

"It's the head of our ruling house," he said, 'you will see his picture
in many loyal households.  Read the inscription.  "

I read: "Carl VII; Carl Frederic Ludwig Maximilian, Duke of Rochenstein
and Dorrenig, Count of Lokenberg."

"Carl Frederic Ludwig Maximilian," I said dully.

"Duke of Rochenstein and Count of Lokenberg!"

"The Lokenberg title is one of Duke Carl's," he said.

"Then why did he ..."

"You had looked at the picture."

"I had never looked at it closely."

"You looked at it without realizing you did.  The names became fixed in
your memory without your suspecting it and in your dream you selected
one of them Maximilian and attached it to one of the titles you had
seen on the inscription."

I put my hands over my eyes.  But he was so clear to me.  I could see
his beloved face, with the passionate, arrogant eyes that gleamed for
me.

I would not believe that I had imagined that.  But they had the
tangible evidence; for the first time there was a doubt in my mind.

That terrible day seemed interminable.  I sat listlessly with my hands
on my lap thinking of him.  My ears were strained for the sound of
horses' hoofs because I believed that I should hear them and that he
would come into the house, his eyes alight with passion.

"What have they been trying to tell you, Lenchen?"  he would demand,
and turn on them in his fury;

and they would cringe, as in the dream my cousins had appeared to-well,
not exactly cringe, but they had been eager to placate him.

But this, according to them, had not been the case.  They had never
known each other.  How could living people know a phantom?  In the
dream they had shown respect because that was what I expected them to
do.

None of it, according to them, had existed.

But it had.  I could feel his arms about me.  I could remember so many
passionate and tender moments.

I knew what Ilse was thinking: "Could I really believe that a count
would suddenly decide to marry an unknown girl with such haste that the
day after his decision a priest married them?"

Oh yes, they had reason on their side; and I had nothing but dreams.  I
could not produce my wedding-ring nor my marriage lines.  If I had ever
had them, where were they now?

Suddenly I thought: There's the hunting lodge.  I must go back there. 
I would fin de HUdegarde and Hans, and they would corroborate my
story.

I was excited.  If I could go back to the lodge Hildegarde would
corroborate my story about the marriage.  But if she did, that would
mean that Cousin Ilse was lying, Ernst too, and the doctor.  Why should
they?  What motive could they possibly have?

If I believed that, I must get away from them as soon as possible for
they would be my enemies.  They were trying to prove .  what were they
trying to prove?

Sometimes I thought: I'm going mad.

Were they trying to prove me mad?  For what purpose?  They were trying
to save me, they said, from the mental collapse which I had been near
when I came in, according to them, the victim of a savage attack in the
forest.

Maximilian savage!  Passionate he was and fierce at times but he loved
me; for he had been tender; and he had said that desiring me as he did,
he was determined that I should come to him willingly.

My thoughts were going round in circles.  I must know the truth.  I
must try to be calm.  I must face the facts.  I must see the truth. 
Where was my ring?  Where were my marriage lines?  I could see them
clearly now the plain gold band, the writing on the paper.  But they
could not be found.

I must know the truth.  I had lost six days from my life and I must
know what had happened to me, on the Night of the Seventh Moon.  Did I
meet the one man whom I could love, did I marry him, did I live for
three ecstatic days in his hunting lodge as his wife?  Or was I
attacked by a monster who robbed me temporarily of my sanity?

I must know the truth.

I would go to the lodge.  I would see Hildegarde and Hans and if they
told me that I had never been there except on that one nighi when he
had brought me there in the mist, I would have to believe them.  Then I
would see him.  And I would then know whether he was indeed my
husband.

At the very earliest moment I must go back to the lodge.

Ilse consulted Dr.  Carlsberg and they all agreed that I must have my
way.

How should we find this lodge?  " asked Ilse.

"It is not far from Liechtenkinn some eight miles, I think.

And you remember, Ilse, when you drove me over for my wedding .  "

She looked at me blankly, sadly.

"Well, we'll try to find it," she said.

Ernst drove the horses; Ilse and I sat side by side; she had taken my
hand and pressed it.

"We shall find the lodge you stayed at that night when you were lost in
the mist.  It will help you if you see the servant whom you saw
then."

I was thinking of Hildegarde.  If she told me that I had never been
there but once, I should have to believe her.  I was afraid and my fear
was a sign that I was beginning to waver.  When there was so much
evidence how could one go on believing in what they were telling me was
a dream?

Is it possible?  I asked myself.  Can such things be done?  I kept
thinking of Dr.  Carlsberg's calm, intelligent and kindly face.  What
point would there be in their trying to confuse me?  Yet on the other
hand what did I know of Maximilian?  He had never really told me
anything about his life.  I had no idea even where he lived.  The more
I thought of everything that happened, the more flimsy it seemed.

I could not remember the road.  On the first occasion we had taken it
when in my dream if dream it was1 had not noticed any landmarks.

That had been my wedding-day.  I had been thinking of him and wondering
when he would come back and had not noticed the road then either.

Ernst had driven to Liechtenkinn and when we reached the town with its
gable-roofed houses clustered round the Pfarrkirche we were not far
from the Damenstift.

I looked at the convent with some emotion, but it was not my schooldays
that I remembered but that morning when Hildegarde had driven me back
from the hunting lodge and how desolate I had been then because I
feared I would never see him again.  I was a hundred times more so now;
but my spirits were rising.  When we found the lodge I would see
Hildegarde.  She would tell them that I had stayed there three days and
nights as Maximilian's bride.  But what of Ilse and Ernst?  They could
surely not be suffering from delusions?

We must find the lodge.  I must speak to Hildegarde.  And if she said
that I had never been there .  I felt cold at the thought.  Then, I
reasoned, I will have to accept what they tell me.

But not yet.  I would find the lodge and insist on Hildegarde's
corroborating my story.

"Now," said Ernst, 'we have to find the way from here.  You say it was
some eight miles from the Damenstift.  "

"Yes.  I'm sure of that."

"But in what direction?"

I pointed towards the south.

"I am sure that is the way I remember driving up to the Damenstift with
Hildegarde from there."

Ernst took the road, which was straight for some miles as I remembered
it.  We came to a fork and he hesitated.

"It's a wild goose chase," he said.

"No," said Ilse, 'we must find the lodge.  It's the only thing that
will satisfy Helena.  "

I was sure it was the left-hand fork.  I seemed to remember the grey
farmhouse down the road.  We went on.

This was the road Schwester Maria had taken on that fateful
afternoon.

We climbed and soon were in the pine forest.  Here was the very spot
where we had picnicked.  There Schwester Maria had sat under the tree
to doze.  And I wandered off into a dream that had become a
nightmare.

"Now the lodge you visited on that night could not be very far from
here," said Ernst.

Unfortunately I could not direct him.  We took one turning and drove on
for a while.  We saw a man gathering wood.  Ernst pulled up and asked
him if be knew of a hunting lodge nearby.

The man paused, set down his bundle and scratched his head.

Yes, there was a lodge.  A fine lodge, belonged to a lord or a count or
some nobleman.

My spirits began to rise; my heart was beating fast.

Oh God, I prayed.  Let this be it.  Let me find Hildegarde.  Let me
come out of this nightmare.

Yes, he could tell us.  If we were to go straight on to the end of the
road, then take the path that climbed a bit and then a sharp veer to
the left, there we would find a hunting lodge, i "They come here in the
season," he said.

"Gentlemen and ladies too.

There's boar in the forest.  Sometimes it's stags.  "

Ernst thanked him and we drove on in silence.  I felt it took a long
time to climb and I was impatient because we were forced to slacken our
pace.  And then we reached the top of the hill and I cried out in
delight for there was the grove of pine trees that I remembered.  The
lodge was just beyond them.

Ernst drove on; we were in the grove now because the road ran through
them-just as I remembered.  There were the two stone posts, beyond them
were the grey walls which I knew so well.

I cried out in joy.

"We're here."

I wanted to leap out of the carriage but Ilse restrained me.

"Be careful, Helena," she said.

"You're not strong yet."

Ernst fixed the reins to the post and we alighted.

I ran forward.  There was a strange silence everywhere.  I noticed that
the stables had disappeared.  They should have been to the left of the
house.  It was from them that Hans had come out to take our horses when
we had been riding.  I could not understand.  It seemed different.

Everything was different.  This was the lodge; those were the stone
posts.  Those were the walls.  There was no door.  I could see through
into emptiness.

I was looking at the shell of the hunting lodge where until that moment
I had been certain that I had been married to Maximilian.

Ilse was beside me, her arm slipped through mine, her eyes
compassionate.

"Oh, Helena," she said, 'come away.  "

But I wouldn't.  I ran through that gap where the door had been.  I
stood inside those blackened walls.  There was nothing there-nothing of
the room where we had dined; the bedroom we had shared, my little room
where I had spent the first night, the blue room which contained
another woman's clothes, the hall with its stuffed heads of animals and
weapons hanging on the wall Hildegarde and Hans, all gone.

"This is the place," I cried.

"Helena, my poor child," said Ilse.

"But what has happened to it?"  I demanded.

"It looks as though it has been burned out at some time.  Come away
now.  Come home.  You have had enough."

I didn't want to go.  I wanted to stand there in that ruin and think of
it all.  How could I remember a dream so vividly?  It wasn't possible. 
I could not bear my misery, because every minute they were convincing
me that what had happened had indeed been unreal.

Ilse led me back to the carriage.

We drove home in silence.  There was nothing more I could think of. 
The evidence against the fact that I had married was overwhelming.

Back at the house I sank into a deep depression.  Ilse tried to
interest me in embroidery and cooking.  I was listless.  Sometimes I
would let myself dream that Maximilian came back for me; but I was
afraid to indulge in too many dreams for fear I should again stray into
a dangerous realm of fancy.

Not only was I desolate and melancholy while my heart called out for my
husband, but I was afraid of myself.  There was a great deal of talk
about the powers of suggestion and hypnotism.  The fame of the Pox
sisters had spread from America to England some ten years ago; they
believed that it was possible to communicate with the dead; and
although the world was full of sceptics many people were convinced that
it was becoming increasingly easier to accept what some time ago would
have appeared to be completely incredible, and that certain people were
possessed of knowledge and the power to reveal undreamed of secrets.
Dr.  Carlsberg was clearly experimenting with new forms of treatment;
and because of my circumstances I was a likely subject for his tests.

I no longer felt that I was uncomplicated Helena Trant.  I had had,
according to the evidence, a frightening experience, which many
believed was the worst which could befall an innocent young girl, or I
had enjoyed the exultation which the perfect union between two people
can bring.  I was not sure which.  If they were right, I had lost six
days of my life and those were the days during which I had known a
state of existence which I could never hope to experience again; I had
loved with a deep abiding passion a man whom they told me was a
phantom.  I could never love again in that way.  I had therefore
suffered an irreparable loss.

I felt I was a stranger to myself.  I often looked searchingly in the
mirror and felt I did not know the face which was reflected there.  How
could I help it when I was not at all sure whether I myself was not in
the plot to blot out the fearful memory of a terrifying experience by
replacing it with a dream of perfection?

Sometimes I awoke in the night startled because I had dreamed that I
was being pursued through the forest by a monster who had disguised
himself as Maximilian.  I thought in that waking moment-Was that how it
happened?  We had gone into the forest.  There was a moment when he
had

hesitated.  Was that the moment when I started to dream?

I was afraid.  I watched everything that I did spontaneously.  I had a
fear that I was becoming unbalanced.  Luisa, my mother's cousin-of whom
my mother had never spoken- had gone mad.  I was frightened.

I clung to Ilse.  There was something so kind and compassionate about
her.  The manner in which she used to take care of me, to take my mind
off my tragedy, was touching.  I could see so clearly what she was
trying to do.

The days began to pass; I was listless, unless at any time I heard the
sound of horses' hoofs; then I would start up expectantly, for I could
not rid myself of the hope that one day Maximilian would come to claim
me.

Dr.  Carlsberg came every day to visit me.  His care for me was
wonderful.

I think it must have been about a week after I awoke to the nightmare
that Ilse told me they would have to leave Lokenburg.  Ernst's holiday
had come to an end.  He must return to Denkendorf.  He had his work
there.

I used to listen idly to their conversation.  There had been some plot
to replace Duke Carl by his brother Ludwig.  They chattered excitedly
about it and were clearly delighted that it had gone against Ludwig.

They were very loyal to the Duke.

So shortly after that we said goodbye to Dr.  Carlsberg, who assured me
that I would gradually regain my old spirits if I could stop brooding
on what had happened and learn to accept it as a regrettable
accident.

No good could be done by brooding.  In fact only harm could come of
it.

I said to Ilse as we left, "What if Maximilian should come here to look
for me?  He said he would come to the lodge but he wanted me to go to
you ... so he will know ..."

I stopped.  She looked so sad.

Then she said: "We have taken the house before.  The owner knows we
come from Denkendorf.  If any people come looking for us they could be
told where we had gone."

I was sorry to hurt her by this proof that I believed she bad lied to
me, but she understood.

She knew that I still had to cling to the dream.

Denkendorf was like so many of the little towns I had seen in this part
of the world.  The centre of the town had its shops under the arcades;
the pavements were cobbled, and the aspect medieval; because this was a
spa and people came to

take the waters there were several inns; and the shops were well
stocked, the streets more lively than those of Lokenburg.  We were near
a river and it was possible to walk out to its bank and see there,
perched on the opposite bank, the ruin of a castle in pale silver-grey
stone.

I realized when we arrived there that I had grown a little away from my
nightmare; I had begun to accept, which I had believed I never could.
It was possible, I knew, for people to be drugged to such an extent
that they missed days of their lives.  It was possible to evoke dreams
that seem real.  How could I doubt that good kind Ilse was speaking the
truth?  I should have known that what I had imagined was too wildly and
fantastically wonderful to be true.

We had only just settled in to Denkendorf when Ernst left us to go to
Rochenburg, the capital city of the Duchy of Rochenstein.  This crisis
in the affairs of the country meant that in spite of his indifferent
health he was recalled to his post in the government, so Ilse and I
were alone together.

We grew very close.  She would not let me go out without her and each
morning we would go into the market to shop.  Sometimes she introduced
me as her English cousin and I would join in the conversation which
ensued somewhat automatically.  How did I like the country?  How long
was I going to stay with my cousin?  To these I always replied that I
found the country interesting and that I was not sure how long I would
stay. I could see they thought me a little dull, perhaps strange.  When
I thought of what I should have been like a few weeks ago I was
appalled. I would never again be that carefree impulsive girl who had
attracted Maximilian .  But how could she have captivated a phantom? 
In the beginning, I reasoned with myself, he was attracted by me. 
There was no harm in thinking of that incident which had begun in the
mist.  That had actually happened.

I wrote to the aunts and in time received letters from them.

By that time I had been in Denkendorf for six weeks.  Each day was much
the same; Ernst paid occasional visits; I learned to embroider and do
tapestry work-very fine petit- point on which we could only work by
day.  In the evenings we did ordinary sewing or embroidery.  I read a
great many books on German history and I was particularly interested in
the ancestors of Carl, Duke of Rochenstein.  It was astonishing how
quickly the time was passing.

Aunt Caroline wrote of the affairs which concerned her;

how much strawberry jam she had put down; how many jars of black
currant jelly; she implied that she expected me soon to be coming home.
She could not understand why I had wanted to go gadding about in the
first place.  Aunt Matilda wrote of the strange wheezing Aunt Caroline
had developed.  She got quite breathless; and there was mention of Mr.
Clees's solitary kidney which had to do the work of two;

and Amelia Clees was looking a little pale; Aunt Matilda hoped she was
not going into a decline as, she had gathered, her mother had.  There
was a great deal about Mr.  Clees in Aunt Matilda's letter.  It seemed
that a man who had had a wife in a decline and himself possessed only
one kidney was very attractive.  I heard from Mrs.  Greville too.  They
missed me and wondered when I planned to come back.  She and Mr.
Greville might manage a trip out so that I could come back with them.

Anthony had said only the other day that it didn't seem the same
without me there.

I re-read the letters.  That life all seemed so far away.  The thought
of going back there and trying to pretend that everything was the same
as it always had been did not attract me.

Ilse came in suddenly.  She had a way of gliding about as though not to
disturb me.

"What's the matter, Helena?"  she asked.

"You are looking ... lost."

"Letters from home," I explained.

"I was thinking of going back there."

"You're not ready yet, are you?"

"I don't think I could face them."

"No, not just yet.  It'll change.  But there is nothing to worry
about.

You must stay here with us until you are ready to go.  "

"Dear Ilse," I said, 'what should I have done without you?  "

She turned away to hide her emotion.  She always liked to keep her
feelings in check.

Several more weeks passed.  Perhaps I was becoming reconciled.  But I
seemed to grow more listless; it was as though I had changed my
personality.  I smiled rarely, and remembering the old days when I had
been so often unable to restrain my laughter, I was astonished.  And
yet I suppose what I had endured whichever was the truth-would most
certainly change one.

As time passed everything seemed to point to the fact that those six
days had been spent in my bed.  I continued to hope that Maximilian
would come to me.  I used to look at faces in the streets of the little
town and every time I saw a tall man in the distance my heart would
leap with hope.  Each passing day meant that a little of my hope must
fade.  If there had really been a marriage, where was my husband? 
Surely he would have come to claim me?

I suppose when I had seen that shell where the lodge had been I had
begun to accept the truth of what Ilse, Ernst and Dr.  Carlsberg had
told me.  But I felt as though a part of me had died.  I knew I should
never be the same insouciant girl I had been before.

Ilse appeared to have no friends in the place so there was no visiting.
She explained that she and Ernst had only recently come to live in
Denkendorf and the people being rather formal would take some time
before they accepted them.

I tried to interest myself in the vegetables she bought in the market
or the skeins of silk we chose for our embroidery; but I simply did not
care whether we ate carrots or onions, or chose purple or azure-blue
for the flowers we were working.

I went about my days mechanically.  I was once more in limbo, waiting I
was not sure for what.

In the shops we visited people often mentioned Count Ludwig's attempted
coup.  They all seemed delighted that it had failed.  I often saw
pictures similar to that which Dr.  Carlsberg had pointed out in the
hall of the house in Loken- burg.  There was the same face and the
inscription, Carl Ludwig Maximilian, Seventh Duke of Rochenstein and
Dorrenig.  Count of Lokenberg.

Maximilian, Count of Lokenberg.  Those were the words on which my eyes
lingered.

It is a strange feeling to know that a part of your life is wrapped in
mystery; and that you have been unconscious of what happened to you
during that period.  You feel apart from your fellow human beings.  You
are both a stranger among them and to yourself.

I tried to explain this to Ilse, for I was talking to her very freely
and intimately now; she said she understood and she knew that in time I
would grow away from this.

"Never hesitate to talk to me," she said, 'that is, if you wish to do
so.  The last thing I want to do is to force confidence, but I want you
to know that I am here if you should need me.  "

"I shall have to think about going home soon," I told her.  Not yet,"
she begged.

"I want to wait until you are quite recovered before you leave us."

"Quite recovered.  I don't think I shall ever be that."

"You think so now because it is so close ... later you will see."  Oh
yes, she comforted me a great deal.

Yet each day I awoke I said to myself: I must go home.  It was only to
be a short visit and it was three months since I had left England.

One morning I woke up feeling ill.  I was frightened because I
remembered waking in my bed and learning that what I believed had
happened had been only in my imagination.

I got out of bed and felt dizzy.

I sat on the edge of the bed wondering whether I had been unconscious
for another six days.  This time there were no pleasant memories.

I was still sitting there when there was a knock on the door and Ilse
looked in.

"Are you all right, Helena?"  she asked anxiously.

"Yes, I think so.  I just felt a little dizzy."

"Do you think I should get the doctor?"

"No ... no.  It's passing.  You are not going to tell me that I have
been in bed for days and didn't go to the town with you yesterday?"

She shook her head.

"No.  No.  Dr.  Carlsberg has not been treating you since you have been
here.  But I'm sorry you feel dizzy.  I wonder whether you ought to see
a doctor."

"No, no," I insisted.

"It is already passing."

She looked at me intently, and I said I would get up.

We went into the town and it was just such another day as those which
had preceded it.

It suddenly occurred to me that if I went home I would be able to think
more clearly.  I would be able to assess my adventure against the
reality of home.  Here I still sensed the bewilderment.  The very
cobbled streets and gabled shops with their creaking signs were like
the settings of the old fairy stories.  I could not get out of my mind
the belief that here, the home of trolls, hobgoblins and the ancient
gods, nothing was too fantastic to happen.  At home, among the towers
and spires of Oxford where I might listen to the prosaic talk of the
aunts and enjoy the friendly atmosphere of the Grevilles' home, I would
reason clearly.  I would begin to understand what had happened to me.

One morning I said to Ilse: "I think I must get ready to go home."

She looked at me anxiously.

"Do you really want to?"

I hesitated.

"I think it would be better to."

"This decision surely means that you are beginning to accept what has
happened.  You are getting over the shock."

"Perhaps.  I know that I have to come out of the strange state into
which I have fallen.  I've got to go on living.  I would do it best
where I belong."

She touched my hand gently.

"My dear child, you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish.  You
know that.  But I feel that you are right.  In Oxford resuming your
everyday , life you will come to terms with what has happened to you.
You will realize that it is not the first time a young girl has been so
cruelly awakened to the cruder aspects of life."

"It is perhaps the first time a girl has believed herself to have been
married and discovered that she has lost six days of her life."

"Of that I am not sure.  But I am firmly of the opinion what Dr.
Carlsberg did was right and the only thing to do in the
circumstances.

He had blotted out an evil thing and replaced it by something
beautiful.  "

"But, according to you all, the evil was the truth and the beauty a
dream."

"Alas ... but the memory of evil has been obliterated.  While you have
suffered, my dear, you have the consolation of knowing that you have
been of great help to Dr.  Carlsberg.  You have proved his experiment
to be so successful.  that you cannot even remember the brutality you
suffered and you still persist in believing the dream.

It is only the force of tangible evidence against it that has made you
accept it; and I believe that deep in your heart you still believe that
you married this man.  "

How well she had summed up my feelings.

"So I have been a kind of guinea-pig in Dr.  Carlsberg's researches."

"Only because the circumstances were as helpful to you as they were to
him.  But tell me, Helena, do you still believe in this marriage?"

"I know everything is against it, but it is clear in my mind as it ever
was.  And I believe it always will be."

She nodded.

"And I believe that is what Dr.  Carlsberg would wish."  She paused for
a moment.

"Helena, I want you to know that as soon as you wish to go I shall take
you back.  Will you see Dr.  Carlsberg once more?

I should like you to see him before you go.  "

I hesitated.  I felt a sudden revulsion for the man which I had not
felt before.  It was wrong.  He had been kind to me;

he had, according to himself.  Ilse and Ernst, saved my reason.  Yet I
did not want to see him again.  I wondered whether if I had faced the
truth in the first place I might not have been better able to cope with
the situation.  Bluntly, I had been assaulted in the most cruel and
brutal way.  If I had come back that night knowing this, how should I
have reacted?  1 was not sure.  But there was one thing of which I was
certain.  The man whom I had met on the Night of the Seventh Moon was
the same one who had found me in the mist.  If he had been the cruel
ravisher of that night would he have hesitated when I was in his lodge?
I thought of the door handle slowly turning.  The door was bolted.  But
would that have been any real deterrent to a man determined to have his
way?

If they had let me face the truth I believed I would have done so with
courage.  I could not believe I had nearly lost my reason.  I had been
frivolous and impulsive, but never hysterical.  How could I be sure
what I would have been like suffering under such an outrage?  We do not
really know ourselves and it is only when we face a crisis that
unexpected facets of our characters are betrayed.

Ilse went on: "I should feel so relieved if he could see you as an
ordinary physician this time.  I know that he greatly wishes it and I
should like to have his advice about your going home."

I said I would see him, and she wrote to him that day.  His reply
came.

He would be with us in two days' time.

I had had a few more dizzy spells on rising and I was wondering if I
was going to be ill.  Ilse asked how I was solicitously every
morning;

she seemed very concerned.

"I think I ought to get home soon," I said.

"Everything will be different then."

I was thinking that if Maximilian had really married me he would have
come to claim me by now.  Each passing day was confirmation that the
marriage had never taken place.

If I could get away I would perhaps forget.  Home seemed so remote
from all that happened; so presumably when I was home, this would be
remote.

I could start again.

I wrote to Aunt Caroline and Mrs.  Greville to tell them I should be
coming home shortly.  The evenings I had spent at the Grevilles' house
had been the most enjoyable of that period.  I remembered how amused I
had been because of their admiration for Anthony and how Anthony
talking above our heads had a pleasant way of assuming that we
understood.  It was all so cosy.  The last word I could apply to this
place; and I was beginning to see the virtues of that cosiness from
which I had wanted to escape.

Dr.  Carlsberg came as arranged.  I was in the little garden when he
arrived and did not hear him come.  He must have been with Ilse for a
quarter of an hour when I walked into the house and found him there.

When he saw me his face lit up with pleasure.  He rose and took both my
hands in his.

"How are you?"  he asked.

When I told him that I felt I was getting back to normal he smiled with
pleasure and gratification.  Ilse left us together and he wanted to
know every detail of what had happened.  What dreams had I had?  Had I
suffered from nightmares?  Every little item seemed of the utmost
importance to him.

Then he asked about my physical health and I told him that I often felt
unwell on rising.

He said he would like to examine me.  Would I agree?

I did.

I shall never forget what followed.  It was one of the most dramatic
moments in my life.

"I have to tell you that you are to have a child," he said.

TWO

I was deeply moved by the manner in which Ilse received the news.  She
was stricken with horror and dismay.

"Oh God!"  she cried.

"This is terrible."

I found myself comforting her, for to tell the truth I could only feel
exultation.  I was to have a child-his child.  I was

not mad.  He had existed.  From the moment I realized this I started
to emerge from the depth of my unhappiness.

My own child!  I did not think of the difficulties which must
inevitably lie ahead simply because I could see nothing beyond the
wonder of having our child.

I knew then that deep in my heart I must always believe that Maximilian
had loved me; I could not associate him with a criminal in the forest;
the prospect of bearing his child could do nothing but fill me with a
fierce exhilaration.

When the doctor had gone Ilse said to me: "Helena, do you realize what
this means?"

"Yes, I do."  I could not help it if my delight was obvious.  I
possessed what my father had called a mercurial temperament.

"Up and down," said my mother.

"Irresponsible," Aunt Caroline called it.  And I was sure Ilse thought
me odd and illogical.  I had been sunk in depression when I had had
every chance of putting an ugly incident behind me and starting a new
life; and now that would be impossible because there would be a living
reminder.  I was rejoicing.  I couldn't help it.  The wonder of having
a child subdued all else.

"This is shattering," said Ilse at length.

"That this should have happened as well as everything else ...!  What
can we do now?  You can't go back to England.  Helena, have you thought
of what this is going to mean?"

But all I could think was: I am going to have a child.

"We must be practical," she warned me.

"Can you go back to your aunts and tell them that you are going to have
a child?  What will they say?

You would be disgraced.  They might not even receive you.  If I wrote
to them and told them what had happened .  No, they would never
understand. You will have to stay here until the child is born.  It's
the only way. Yes, we shall have to arrange that.  "

I had to confess I had not given much consideration to the months
between only the arrival of the child.  I should like a boy but I would
not think about that until it came.  If it were a girl I should not
wish her to think that I was not completely delighted with her.

But I was right.  I must try to be practical.  What was I going to
do?

How was I going to keep a child, educate it, bring it up in the best
possible way?  It would have no father.  And what should I do while I
waited for the child to be born?

The first exultation had passed.

Ilse seemed to have come to a decision.

"You must stay with us, Helena, and I shall look after you.  I shall
never forgive myself for going out that night without Ernst and then
losing you in the crowd.  Yes, we will arrange something.  You'll be
all right.  You can trust us."

She seemed to have grown calmer; the first horror had passed and
characteristically she was making plans.

The first feeling of triumphant joy had passed.  I had had a glimpse of
how I should have felt if I had been truly married to Maximilian and he
had been with me so that we could have shared the joy of prospective
parenthood.  I asked myself if there was not something I could do to
find him.  He was the father of my child.  Yet what could I do?  If I
talked this over with Ilse I would see that sad, patient look come into
her face.  I had given up trying to make her understand that no matter
what evidence they showed me I could never believe that I had dreamed
my life with Maximilian.  I began to make wild plans.  I would travel
the country looking 'for him.  I would call at every house seeking
information concerning him.  Now that I was going to have a child I
must find him.

I said to Ilse: "Could I put an advertisement in the newspapers?  Could
I ask him to come back to me?"

Ilse looked horrified: "Do you believe that a man who did that would
answer such an advertisement?"

"I was thinking ..."  I began; and saw how hopeless it was to talk to
Ilse, for she insisted that the Maximilian I had known had never
existed.

She was patient with me.

"Suppose you mentioned Count Lokenberg.  You would be deemed mad. There
could even be trouble."

So whichever way I looked I could do nothing.

I knew that she was right about my not going home.  The aunts would be
horrified at the prospect of sheltering an unmarried pregnant niece.  I
could imagine the scandal.  No one would believe the story of the
attack in the forest any more than they would believe that other
version of my unusual marriage.

I needed Use's kindnesses and ingenuity to help me in my difficult
situation, and I knew I could rely on her.  She was very soon her calm
and practical self.

"You will certainly have to stay here until after the child is born.

Then we shall have to decide from there.  "

"I have a little money, but it is not enough to keep us and

educate the child.  "

"We'll think about that later," she said.

Ernst came back.  His health seemed much better and when he heard the
news he shared rise's horror and compassion.  They were both very
gentle with me and very anxious because they assumed guilt for what had
happened.

He and Ilse, I know, discussed my affairs continuously, but for me the
state of euphoria persisted and every so often I would forget my
circumstances and think solely of the delight of having a child.

Sometimes I wondered whether Dr.  Carls- berg had given them something
to put into my food to make me happy.  I had a terrible thought once
that he might have made me imagine I was going to have a child.  I
didn't think this was so as Ilse and Ernst seemed to think it such a
tragedy.  But once one has been the subject of such an experiment one
becomes suspicious.

We all decided that for the time being we would not tell the aunts, and
during the next months would think very carefully what we should do.

In the meantime an excuse must be made to keep me with my cousin.  Ilse
took that into her own hands and wrote to Aunt Caroline to tell her
that I was staying on because Ernst had taken a turn for the worse and
she needed my help.

"A little white lie," she said with a grimace.

So I stayed on in Denkendorf and the weeks began to slip by.  I no
longer felt ill when I arose; and I thought constantly of the baby.  I
bought material and started making a layette.  I would sit for hours
stitching and thinking.

Dr.  Carlsberg came to me.  He said he was going to pass me over to Dr.
Kleine, a doctor friend of his who had a little nursing home in
Klarengen, not very far away, and soon he would drive me over and
introduce me to his colleague.  There, in Dr.  Kleine's clinic, I
should have the child.

I wondered about the cost but they wouldn't discuss it and in my
present state I was content to let things go.

Ilse said one day: "When the child is born you can stay with us for a
while and perhaps later on you could take a post teaching English in
one of our schools.  It might just be possible to have the child with
you."

"Do you think there would be such a post?"

"Dr.  Carlsberg might be able to help.  He and his colleagues know a
great deal that is going on.  They would find out and if there was
anything I am sure they would be only too glad to help."

"You are so good to me, all of you," I cried gratefully.

"We feel responsible," replied Ilse.

"Ernst and I will never forget that not only did this happen to you in
our country but when you were under our care."

I was content to allow them to plan for me, which was unlike myself
because I had always been so independent.  It certainly seemed as
though the Seventh Moon had cast a spell upon me and all my actions had
become unpredictable.

So I allowed Ilse to cos set me.  I was almost unaware of what went
on.

I stitched at my little garments and delightedly folded them when they
were done and laid them away in the drawer I had prepared for them.

White, blue and pink.  Blue for a boy, they said.  So I would have both
pink and blue so that I should not have planned for either sex.  I
knitted and sewed and read.  The summer passed and the autumn was with
us.

Aunt Caroline wrote that she was surprised that I should enjoy living
with foreigners in some outlandish place rather than in my own home but
Aunt Matilda, realizing that my cousin Ernst had a 'heart' and hearts
being funny things, quite understood that Ilse should want me at hand
to help.

Mrs.  Greville wrote.  She had heard that I was staying on to help my
cousin nurse her husband.  She thought it would be a good experience
for me, but she and her husband as well as Anthony were looking forward
to my return.

They all seemed so far away in the world of reality where life pursued
an even tenor.  The fantastic adventures of the last months had sent me
worlds away from them.

One day Ilse said: Dr.  Carisberg has news.  He says that the nuns at
your old Damenstift would take you in to teach English to the pupils.

You could have the child with you.  "

"You do so much for me," I said emotionally.

"It's our duty," replied Ilse solemnly.

"In any case we are so fond of you.  We must think of the future, you
know."

I was growing obviously larger.  I could feel the movement of my child
and whenever I did my heart leaped with joy.  How could this be so, I
asked myself, if this life within me was the result of an encounter
with a savage brute in the forest?  I would never stop believing in
those ecstatic days91

no matter what evidence they brought forward to try to convince me
that they had never existed.

Ilse introduced me to people in the town when it was necessary as Mrs.
Trant, who had recently suffered a bereavement in the loss of her
husband and who was shortly to bear his posthumous child.  I was seen
as a tragic figure and people were very kind to me.

When I went into the market they called to me to ask how I was; I would
stay and chat with them and the women would tell me about their
childbearing, the men about their vigils during their wives' ordeals.

Dr.  Carisberg came alone one day and drove me into the town where his
friend had his nursing home.  He thought it was better for me to see
the doctor there at this stage.

I did so and Dr.  Kleine told me that at the beginning of April I
should come into his nursing home to be prepared for the birth of the
child.

He called me Mrs.  Trant and had evidently been told the story about my
recent bereavement.

As we drove away Dr.  Carisberg said: "You can rely on Dr.  Kleine.
He's the best man in his line in these parts."

"I'm wondering if I shall be able to pay."

"We are taking care of that," he said.

"I can't accept ..."

"It's easy to give," he said ruefully.

"So difficult to receive.  But it is you who must give us the
satisfaction of helping you out of this situation.  I know your cousin
is filled with self- reproach.  She and her husband can only regain
their peace of mind if they do everything possible for you.  As for me,
you have helped me in my work tremendously.  You have given me an
opportunity to prove a theory.  I can't thank you enough.  Please tell
me-have you now come to accept the truth?"

I hesitated and he said: "I see that you cannot give up your belief in
the dream."

"I lived it," I said.

"Of the other ... I remember nothing."

He nodded.

"It is even better than I thought.  And now that you are to have the
child you believe that child is the fruit of your marriage, and that is
the reason why you feel ready to welcome it.  Had you thought... but no
matter.  This is good.  Anything we can do for you we shall be
delighted to do, rest assured of that."

Sometimes, looking back, -I ask myself: Why did you accept this and
that?  Why did you not enquire more closely into

these strange things that happened to you?  I suppose the answer-is: I
was very young and I appeared to have stepped into a world where
strange things seemed the natural course of events.

I was brought down to reality one day in February.  I was visiting Dr.
Kleine once every three weeks and Ilse used to drive me into Klarengen;
she would put the trap in an inn yard and shop while I went to Dr.
Kleine's nursing home.

He was satisfied with my progress and he did pay very special attention
to me on Dr.  Carlberg's instruction.  I had had a shock, Dr. 
Carlsberg had told him-Dr.  Kleine believed this to be the death of my
husband and in the circumstances might have a difficult confinement.

On this February day the sun was brilliant and there was a frost in the
air.  As I came out of the nursing home a voice behind me startled me
as it took me right back to Oxford.

If it isn't Helena Trant!  "

I turned and there were the Misses Elkington who ran a little tea-shop
near the Castle Mound, which was only open during the summer months.

They sold tea and coffee with home-made cakes, besides egg-cosies,
tea-cosies and embroidered mats which they made themselves.  I had
never liked them.  They were constantly apologizing for selling their
wares and making sure that everyone knew it was something they were not
used to as they had come down in the world, their father having been a
General.

"Oh, it's Miss Elkington and Miss Rose," I said.

"Well, fancy meeting you here of all places."

Their little eyes scrutinized me.  They must have seen me come out of
Dr.  Kleine's nursing home and would be wondering why.  But not for
long.

Although I wore a loose coat my condition could not but be perfectly
obvious.

"And what are you doing here, Helena?"  Miss Elkington the elder was
roguishly censorious.

"I'm staying with my cousin."

"Oh yes, of course, you've been away some months."

"I dare say I shall soon be back."

"Well, well.  It is a small world.  So you are really staying here?"

"Not exactly.  I've come in with my cousin.  I'm joining her now."

"I'm so glad we saw you," said Miss Elkington.

"So nice to see people from home," added her sister.

"I must hurry.  My cousin is waiting ...B I was relieved to get away
from them.  I looked at my reflection in a shop window.  I didn't think
there could be much doubt of my condition.

The weeks had passed and my time was getting near.  Ilse fussed over
me; often I would find her seated in silence with a worried frown on
her forehead and I knew she was concerned for me.

She had consulted both Doctors Carlsberg and Kleine and they had
decided that I should go into Dr.  Kleine's nursing home a week or so
before my child was expected.  As for myself, I continued in my state
of placid euphoria.  I could think of nothing but my child.

"You will have to wait until the baby is about a year old before you go
to the Damenstift to teach English," said Ilse.  Dr.  Carlsberg has not
mentioned your name, but on his recommendation no obstacles would be
put in the way of your going there.  "

How strange-that would be!  I thought.  I remembered the old days (good
heavens!  It was not two years ago) when I had been a pupil-Helena
Trant who had always been in trouble through her irrepressible spirits
and love of adventure.  How strange that I might go back, a mother.

I pictured Schwester Maria taking sly peeps at the baby and trying to
spoil it; and Schwester Gudrun saying: "Where Helena Trant was, there
was always trouble."

Then sometimes I would think of those three days and my love was as
strong as ever, making the longing to see Maximilian unbearable.  Only
the thought of our child could comfort me and I eagerly waited for the
time when I should hold it in my arms.

On a bright April day Ilse drove me to the nursing home.  I was taken
to a private room, apart from the other patients.  Dr.  Carlsberg had
asked that this should be so in view of the circumstances.

It was a pleasant room, everything gleaming white, yet seeming clinical
in its cleanliness.  There was a window from which I could look down on
a lawn, which was very neatly bordered by flower-beds.

Dr.  Kleine introduced me to his wife, who expressed concern for my
comfort.  I asked how many other mothers were in the nursing home and I
was told that there were several.

They were constantly coming and going.

On the first day I looked through my window and saw five or six women
walking about the lawn-all in various stages of pregnancy.  They were
chatting together and two of them sat side by side on one of the wooden
benches near the flowerbeds; one was knitting, the other crocheting.
They were joined by another woman who took out her sewing;

and they talked animatedly together.

I was sorry they had decided to isolate me.  I wanted to be down there
with those other women.

I had been told that I could use the Kleines' little garden to get some
fresh air, but this was not the one where the women met.  I went down
to the Kleines' garden and sat for a while on a garden seat but there
was no one there and I wanted to talk about babies, to compare
knitting.

While I was in the garden Frau Kleine came out to me and I told her I
had seen another garden from my room.

"There's a lawn and there were several expectant mothers there.  I
should like to talk to them."

She looked alarmed.

"I think the doctor doesn't feel that would be wise."

"Why not?"

"I suppose he thinks it might upset you Why ever should it?"

"They all have homes and husbands.  I think he thinks it might depress
you."

"It wouldn't," I cried vehemently.  And I thought then I would not
change the father of my child for any respectable husband these women
might have.  Then I knew that the reason I could be so happy was that I
still believed that one day Maximilian would come back for me and then
I should proudly show him our child; and within me there flourished
still my childish dream that we should live happily ever after.

When I went back to my room the first thing I did was look out of the
window.  The lawn was deserted; they had all gone back to their
rooms.

But I determined to go down to the lawn.

Dr.  Kleine now knew my story (Dr.  Carlsberg had thought it wise to
tell him) but it had been agreed that for the purposes of preventing
gossip-which would have been magnified in any case and no doubt
distorted1 was to be known as Mrs.  Trant, a widow who had lost her
husband some months before.

It was early afternoon, the siesta hour, when I decided to find my way
down to the lawn.  The house appeared to have been built round the
garden which contained the lawn, and the women I had seen there had
come from a door completely opposite the wing in which I had my room.

I would have to work my way round to it so that I could come out by the
door through which I had seen the women emerge.

I opened my door quietly.  There was not a sound in the corridor.  I
went swiftly to a flight of stairs, descended it and found myself on a
landing.  I went along this in what I thought was the right direction
and I came to a short flight of stairs which led to a door.  As I
approached I heard the sound of sobbing.  I paused and listened.

There was no doubt that someone was in great distress.

I hesitated, wondering whether it would be better to find out if I
could be of use or to ignore what I heard.  Then on impulse I went up
the three or four stairs and knocked on the door.  The sobbing
stopped.

I knocked again.

"Who's there?"  said a high-pitched, frightened voice.

"May I come in?"  I asked.  There was a sound which could have been an
affirmative so I opened the door and entered a room rather like my own
but smaller, and hunched on the bed was a girl of about my own age, her
face swollen with crying, her hair in disorder.

We stared at each other.

"What's wrong?"  I asked.

"Everything," she replied bleakly.

I approached the bed and sat on it;

"I feel so terrible," she said.

"Should I call someone?"

She shook her head.

"It's not that.  I wish it were.  It's long overdue.

I know I'm going to die.  "

"Of course you won't.  You'll feel better when the baby comes."

Again she shook her head.

"I don't know what I'm going to do.  Last night I thought of jumping
out of the window."

Oh no!  "

"It's different for you.  You've got a husband and a home and it's all
going to be wonderful."

I didn't answer.  I said: "And you haven't?"

"We should have been married," she said.

"He was killed six months ago.  He was in the Duke's Guard and the bomb
was meant for the Duke.  He would have married me."

"So he was a soldier."

She nodded.

"We would have been married if he'd lived," she reiterated.

In the Duke's Guard, I was thinking.  Duke Carl of Rochen- stein and
Dorrenig, Count of Lokenberg.

"Your family will look after you," I soothed.

Again the doleful shake of the head.

"No they won't.  They won't have me back.  They brought me to Dr.
Kleine but when it's over they won't have me back.  I tried to kill
myself once before.  I walked out into the river but then I was
frightened and they rescued me and brought me here."

She was small and very young and frightened and I longed to help her.

I wanted to tell her that I myself had a future to face which might not
be easy; but my story was so fantastic, so different from one of a
soldier lover who had come to an untimely end.

She was only sixteen, she told me.  I felt so much older and
protective. I said it was always wrong to despair.  I was of some use
to her, I believe, because of my recent suffering.  I could recall,
because it was so recent, the terrible desolation which had swept over
me when I had been told that my romantic marriage was nothing but a
myth.

At least, I thought, this girl has a plausible tragedy to relate.

I made her talk and she told me about the town of Rochen- burg, the
chief city of Rochenstein, where she had lived with her grandmother who
remembered the day the present Duke's father died, and he became the
head of the ruling house.  He had always been a good and serious-minded
Duke-rather different from his son Prince Carl, who was notoriously
wild.  Her grandmother had been a great loyalist and she would have
welcomed a soldier of the Duke's Guard into the family, but if he had
been one of Ludwig's men she would never have accepted him.

But that made it all the more terrible because if they had not
anticipated their marriage vows, if they had waited, they could have
been respectably married in due course.  But fate had gone against
them. Their child was conceived just before the bomb intended for the
Duke had destroyed her lover, leaving her desolate for ever-and with a
double burden, for to her grief was added shame.  She could not endure
it; nor would her grandmother.  She had no notion how she was going to
fend for herself and the child, and the n. o. s. m. 97 n

river had seemed an easy solution.

"You must never do that again," I told her.

"You'll find a way.  We all do."

"You're all right ..."

"I ... I ha vent a husband to go to."

oh, so you're a widow?  That's sad.  But you have money, I suppose.

Most people who come to Dr.  Kleine's have.  I don't know why he has
taken me in.  When I was brought in half drowned and they were scolding
me about having done harm to my child he said he would take me in here
and look after me.  "

"That was kind of him.  But I haven't any money either.  I shall have
to support myself and my child.  I may be teaching English at a
convent."

"You are accomplished.  I have nothing to recommend me.  I'm just a
simple girl."

"What is your name?"

"Gretchen," she said.

"Gretchen Swartz."

"I'll come and see you again, Gretchen," I said.

"We'll talk to each other.  We'll discuss what you can do when you have
a child and no money.  I'm sure there's always a way."

"You will come back then?"  she said.

I promised.

We talked for some time and when I left her I had forgotten about the
women on the lawn.

Dr.  Kleine came to see me later that day.  He was pleased, he said,
that everything seemed to be going well.  He thought the birth was
imminent and we must be prepared for that.

I slept well and the next morning I felt comparatively well.  After I
had breakfasted in my own room I put on my loose dressing-gown and went
to the window and there were the women on the lawn again.  I
immediately thought of Gretchen Swartz and decided to go along and talk
to her.

I found my way to her room.  I mounted the stairs and knocked.  There
was no answer so I opened the door and looked in.

There was no one there.  The bed was made, and there was an impersonal
look about it.  The floor was highly polished, the window slightly
open; the room looked as though it had been prepared for the next
occupant.

Disappointed, I went back to my room.  Then it occurred to me that
Gretchen must have been taken somewhere to have her baby.  Perhaps at
that very moment it was being born.

I sat at the window for some little time watching the women below and I
could not get poor Gretchen out of my mind.

That afternoon my pains started and for the second time in a very brief
period I suffered tragedy.

I can remember the agony; I can remember thinking: It will all be worth
while when I have my child .  everything .  everything.

I lost consciousness and when I was aware again I was no longer in
pain.

"How is she?"  I heard a voice say.

There was no answer.

My first thought was for my child, and I held up my arms.

Someone was bending over me.

I said: "My baby ..."

There was no answer.  Then from a long way off I heard someone say:

"Shall she be told?"

And somebody else said: "Wait."

I was terribly frightened.  I tried to cling to consciousness but it
had gone again.

Dr.  Kleine was at my bedside.  Ilse was with him.  I saw Dr. 
Carlsberg too.  They all looked very grave.

Ilse had taken my hand.

"It was for the best," she said.

"In the circumstances."

What?  " I cried.

"My dear Helena, in view of everything you will see in time ... it will
be easier."

I could not endure the terrible fear.  I must know the truth.

"Where is my child?"  I cried.

"The child," said Dr.  Kleine, 'wbs born dead.  "

No!  "

"Yes, dear," said Ilse tenderly.

"All the horror .. all the anxiety it was inevitable."

"But I wanted my child.  I wanted my little a's .  was it a boy?"

"It was a girl," said Ilse.

I saw her so clearly my little daughter.  I could see her in a little
silk dress aged one, aged two .  and then growing up and going to
school.  I felt the tears on my cheeks.

"She was alive," I said.

"I used to smile because she was so lively.  I used to feel her there.
Oh no, there is some mistake."

Dr.  Carlsberg bent over me.

"The shock of everything," he said, 'was too much for you.  We expected
this.  Please, do not fret.  Remember that you are free now to live a
happy life.  "

A happy life!  I wanted to scream at them.  My lover you tell me never
existed.  I dreamed of my marriage.  But the child was there a living
thing and now you tell me she is dead.

Ilse said: "We will take care of you, Helena .  , ."

I wanted to cry out: "I don't need taking care of.  I want my child.

How dare you experiment with me!  How dare you give me dreams that are
without reality!  If I have been abused I want to know it.  There is
nothing worse than uncertainty.  Oh yes, there is.  There is this
terrible loss.  The baby who was to have been my consolation has been
taken from me.  "

I lay there limply.  I had not known such desolation since they had
told me that Maximilian, whom I had believed to be my husband, was a
myth.

I was very weak, they told me.  I must not leave my bed.  I did not
feel physically weak, only mentally exhausted and in deep despair.

All these months I had lived for my child.  I had made a dream in which
Maximilian came back to me and proudly I showed him the child.  I had
believed that .  just as I had always really believed in those three
days of perfect happiness.  It was only when Ilse smothered me with her
goodness that I wavered.  But I was never convinced.  I could not be
convinced.

"I must see my child," I said.

Dr.  Kleine was horrified.

"It would increase your distress."

I insisted that I wanted to see my baby.

"We were burying her today," said Dr.  Kleine.

"I should be there!"

"It is a simple ceremony, and you must not leave your bed.  You have to
concentrate on getting well now."

I repeated that I wanted to see my child.

Ilse came to see me.

"Helena, dear," she said, 'it is all over.  What you have to do now is
forget.  You can go back to your home.  You can forget all this .
nightmare.  In a little while it will be as though it never happened.
You are so young .  "

I said stonily: "It will never be as though it has not happened.
Nothing that can possibly happen to me will ever be so real, so
important to me, as this.  Do you think I can ever forget?"

"That is not what Dr.  Carlsberg wants.  His object has been
achieved.

Now he would like you to go back to normality.  "

"Dr.  Carlsberg is too glib with his dream-producing drugs.  I want to
see my baby."

"My dear Helena, it would be better not."

"Are you trying to tell me that I have given birth to some monster?"

"Certainly not.  A little girl ... who was born dead."

"I was so much aware of her alive."

"It was a difficult birth.  All that you had suffered ... and you
suffered far more than you realized ... has taken its toll.  That is
what the doctors feared.  In such circumstances it is much better
so."

I said: "They are going to bury my baby today.  I must see her before
they do so."

"It would be better ..."

I raised myself on my elbow.  I cried: "I will not be told any more
what I must do.  I will not be the victim of your experiments."

Ilse looked frightened.

"I will speak to the doctors," she said.

They put me in a wheelchair because the doctor would not allow me to
walk.  I was taken into a room in which stood a tiny coffin on
trestles; the Venetian blinds had been arranged so that a little light
came through the slats.  And there she lay -my little baby-a small
pinched face framed by a little white bonnet.  I wanted to pick her up,
to hold her to me, to breathe life into that limp little body.  Hot
tears were in my eyes and bitter despair in my heart.  They wheeled me
silently back to my room.  The put me to bed; they smoothed my pillows
and tucked in the bedclothes;

they did everything they could to comfort me; but there was no
comfort.

I lay in my bed; I could hear the voices of the women on the lawn.

It was over.  The dream and the nightmare.  I was not yet nineteen
years old and I felt I had had a greater experience than many people
encountered in a lifetime.

"She was alive," I said.

"I used to smile because she was so , lively.

I used to feel her there.  Oh no, there is some mistake.  " ;

Dr.  Carlsberg bent over me.

"The shock of everything," he said, 'was too much for you.  We expected
this.  Please, do not.  fret.  Remember that you are free now to live a
happy life.  "

A happy life!  I wanted to scream at them.  My lover you tell me never
existed.  I dreamed of my marriage.  But the child was there a living
thing and now you tell me she is dead.

Ilse said: "We will take care of you, Helena ..."

I wanted to cry out: "I don't need taking care of.  I want my child.

How dare you experiment with me!  How dare you give me dreams that are
without reality!  If I have been abused I want to know it.  There is
nothing worse than uncertainty.  Oh yes, there is.  There is this
terrible loss.  The baby who was to have been my consolation has been
taken from me.  "

I lay there limply.  I had not known such desolation since they had
told me that Maximilian, whom I had believed to be my husband, was a
myth.

I was very weak, they told me.  I must not leave my bed.  I did not
feel physically weak, only mentally exhausted and in deep despair.

All these months I had lived for my child.  I had made a dream in which
Maximilian came back to me and proudly I showed him the child.  I had
believed that .  just as I had always really believed in those three
days of perfect happiness.  It was only when Ilse smothered me with her
goodness that I wavered.  But I was never convinced.  I could not be
convinced.

"I must see my child," I said.

Dr.  Kleine was horrified.

"It would increase your distress."

I insisted that I wanted to see my baby.

"We were burying her today," said Dr.  Kleine.

"I should be there!"

"It is a simple ceremony, and you must not leave your bed.  You have to
concentrate on getting well now."

I repeated that I wanted to see my child.

Ilse came to see me.

"Helena, dear," she said, 'it is all over.  What you have to do now is
forget.  You can go back to your home.  You can forget all this .
nightmare.  In a little while it will be as though it never happened.
You are so young .  "

I said stonily: "It will never be as though it has not happened.
Nothing that can possibly happen to me will ever be so real, so
important to me, as this.  Do you think I can ever forget?"

"That is not what Dr.  Carlsberg wants.  His object has been
achieved.

Now he would like you to go back to normality.  "

"Dr.  Carlsberg is too glib with his dream-producing drugs.  I want to
see my baby."

My dear Helena, it would be better not.  "

"Are you trying to tell me that I have given birth to some monster?"

"Certainly not.  A little girl ... who was born dead."

"I was so much aware of her alive."

"It was a difficult birth.  All that you had suffered ... and you
suffered far more than you realized ... has taken its toll.  That is
what the doctors feared.  In such circumstances it is much better
so."

I said: "They are going to bury my baby today.  I must see her before
they do so."

It would be better .  "

I raised myself on my elbow.  I cried: "I will not be told any more
what I must do.  I will not be the victim of your experiments."

Ilse looked frightened.

"I will speak to the doctors," she said.

They put me in a wheelchair because the doctor would not allow me to
walk.  I was taken into a room in which stood a tiny coffin on
trestles; the Venetian blinds had been arranged so that a little light
came through the slats.  And there she lay -my little baby-a small
pinched face framed by a little white bonnet.  I wanted to pick her up,
to hold her to me, to breathe life into that limp little body.  Hot
tears were in my eyes and bitter despair in my heart.  They wheeled me
silently back to my room.  The put me to bed; they smoothed my pillows
and tucked in the bedclothes;

they did everything they could to comfort me; but there was no
comfort.

I lay in my bed; I could hear the voices of the women on the lawn.

It was over.  The dream and the nightmare.  I was not yet nineteen
years old and I felt I had had a greater experience than many people
encountered in a lifetime.

Use was with me every day.  She constantly stressed the fact that I
was free now.  I could take up my life again as it had been before the
Night of the Seventh Moon.  She would take me back to England: and
there I would find everything was as it had been.  It was the best
thing for me.

I thought about it a good deal and I could see that it was what I
should have to do.

I had to grow away from this mad adventure.  I had to forget.  I would
have to start again.

I stayed in Dr.  Kleine's nursing home for two weeks and it was almost
when I was on the point of leaving so immersed in my own tragedy had I
been-that I remembered Gretchen Swartz.

I told Ilse how I had found her sobbing in her room and Ilse said she
would ask the doctor or Mrs.  Kleine about the girl.

It was the doctor who mentioned her to me.

"You were asking about Gretchen Swartz.  So you had a word with her?

Did she tell you her story?  "

"Yes, poor girl.  She was very unhappy."

"She didn't come through.  She died but the child was all right.  A
fine boy."

"And what happened to the boy?"

"Her family took him.  The old grandmother will look after him and then
he will go to an uncle."

"Poor Gretchen!  I was so sorry for her."

"Now you are going to stop being sorry.  You are going to get well and
Frau Gleiberg tells me that in a few weeks' time she will be taking you
back to your home."

He seemed almost gleeful.  I had an impression that he had ticked my
name off a list.  A difficult case which has been satisfactorily
settled.

And then I felt the tears prickling my eyelids-they had come very
easily in the last few days-and I was weeping for the loss of my dream
and my child.

The Years Between 18619

one

A month after I had looked on that little dead face Ilse took me back
to England.

How normal everything seemed.  If ever I could grow to believe that I
had imagined, the whole incredible adventure, I could do it there.  On
the journey Ilse had talked to me of the future and the theme of her
discourse was: Forget.  The sooner I did this the sooner I should begin
to lead a new life.  She did not see it as I had seen it.  To her it
was a horrible misadventure with a climax she could only regard as
fortunate.  Death, she would say, had solved my problems.  She did not
know that the ecstatic memory of three days with Maximilian lived on;

she did not understand that while a child lives within its mother, love
is born.

But I could see that she was right about putting it all behind me.  I
had to go on living.  I had to pick up the threads of my life.

Ilse stayed with us only a few days; then she said goodbye.  I fancied
there was a certain relief in her attitude.  Perhaps she was regretting
that she had asked me to accompany her and Ernst on that day some ten
months ago, but when I saw her off at the station she made me promise
to write to her and tell her how I was getting on and she seemed as
concerned as ever.

Everyone agreed that I had changed.  I knew that they were right.  Gone
was the gay, effervescent girl; in her place was a rather withdrawn
woman.  I looked older too-older than my nineteen years, whereas before
I had looked younger than my age.

There were changes at home.  Aunt Caroline was slightly different.  She
had always been critical of society; now she was

angry with it.  No one seemed right to her; Aunt Matilda came in for a
good deal of castigation but I very soon became the butt for it.  What
I had thought I was doing gallivanting about in outlandish places for
nearly a year, she did not know.  Improving my German!  English was
good enough for her and should have been for anyone.  I'd come back
bone idle, as far as she could see.  Had I any new recipes to tell her?
Not that she would want a lot of foreign ways of cooking in her
kitchen.  I developed a talent for appearing to listen to her and not
hearing a thing she said.

As for Aunt Matilda, she had changed.  Bodily ailments still supplied
her main excitement but she had become very friendly with the Clees in
the bookshop.

"What I wonder," said Aunt Caroline sarcastically, 'is why you don't go
and live there.  "

"You know, Helena," Aunt Matilda confided in me, 'when you think of all
there is to do in the shop they don't get much time for seeing to
things about the rooms above it.  Amelia's chest isn't what it should
be and when you consider Mr.  Clees's one kidney trying to do the work
of two, it makes you think.  "

She was happier than she had been when I left and I grew quite fond of
her.  She was always smuggling in mending from the dees' house so that
Aunt Caroline wouldn't see it.  She would sit in her room secretly
doing it.  It was what Aunt Caroline would call 'making yourself
cheap'.

The Grevilles were pleased to see me.  I was asked to dinner within a
few days of my return.

Mrs.  Greville embraced me warmly.

"My dear Helena!"  she said.

"Why, you've grown thinner!"  And she took my face in her hands and
looked at it with such close scrutiny that I felt myself flushing.

"Is everything all right, Helena?"

"Why yes, of course."

"You've changed."

"I'm a year older."

"It's more than that."  She looked rather worried so I kissed her and
said: "I haven't settled in properly yet."

"Oh, your aunts," she said with a little grimace.  Then she added:

"Anthony's so pleased you're back.  We all are."

It was a happy evening.  They were delighted by my return.  They kept
asking questions about my sojourn and I tried to evade them when they
touched on my personal experiences and told them some of the legends
of the forest.

Anthony could talk very learnedly about this.

"These have come from the pre-Christian era," he said.

"I believe some of the beliefs still linger."

"I'm sure they do," I said; and I was back in the square watching the
dancers and I saw a figure in the horned headdress and heard a tender
voice whisper: "Lenchen, Liebchen."

Anthony was looking at me strangely.  I must have betrayed something. 
I warned myself to be careful.  So I tried to be very gay and described
how the girls dressed on feast days in their satin aprons with bright
kerchiefs tied over their heads.  Anthony knew something of this
because he had visited the forest with his parents before he went to
college. He had been fascinated even as I had.

Yes, it was a pleasant evening, but that night I was disturbed by
dreams.  Maximilian was in them and so was the child, and strangely
enough it was not of a dead baby in a coffin I dreamed but of a living
child.

The dreams were so vivid that when I awoke next morning I was plunged
into deep melancholy.

This is how it will be throughout my life, I thought.

The days passed slowly at first but because one week was so much like
another they merged and began to fly.  There were the household duties
to be performed under Aunt Caroline's never-satisfied authority; there
were the occasional visits of friends; sometimes I went into the
bookshop and helped when they were busy.  I began to acquire a certain
knowledge of books.  Aunt Matilda, who managed to be there quite often
too, was always pleased to see me there.  It was such a help for Amelia
with her chest and Albert with his solitary kidney.

Aunt Caroline was not so pleased by the friendship.

"What you see in that place, I can't imagine," she grumbled.

"If they sold something sensible I might understand it more.  Books!
What are they but time-wasters?"

During the first year of my return, Ilse had written several times.

Then there came a letter to say that Ernst had died and she would be
leaving Denkendorf.  I sent my condolences and expected to be given a
new address but I never had another letter from Ilse.  I waited and
waited but the years passed and there was nothing.  It seemed very
strange when I remembered how close we had been.

My dreams continued to disturb my nights and haunt my days.  Time could
no nothing to efface my memories.  In

those dreams my baby lived-a little girl who so resembled Maximilian
that she was clearly his daughter.  As the time passed she grew up in
my dreams.  I yearned for the child;

and when I awoke after one of my vivid dreams I suffered the loss of my
baby afresh.

We lived perpetually under the cloud of Aunt Caroline's displeasure;

and one day when I had been home for a little more than a year she was
not up at her usual time and when I went to her room I found her in bed
unable to move.  She had had a stroke.  She recovered a little and I
nursed her for three years, with the help of Aunt Matilda.  She was an
exacting patient; nothing pleased her.  Those were three dreary years
when I would drop into my bed exhausted every night to dream.  And how
I dreamed!  My memories were as vivid as ever.

I well remember the day when Aunt Matilda whispered to me that she was
going to marry Albert Clees.

"I mean," she said blushing coyly, 'where is the sense of my keeping
going in and out.  I might just as well live there.  "

"It's only a step or two next door," I reminded her.

"Oh, but it's not the same."  She was bubbling over with excitement
like a young bride.  I was happy for her because she had changed so
much. Happiness suited Aunt Matilda.

"When's the great day to be?"  I asked.

"Oh, I haven't told Caroline yet."

When Caroline was told she was very angry.  She talked continually of
the folly of old women who ran after men, mending their socks and
turning the collars and cuffs of their shirts.  What did they think
they were going to get out of that!

"The satisfaction of helping someone, perhaps," I suggested.

"Now, Helena, there's no need for you to come into this.  If Matilda
likes to make a fool of herself, let her."

"I don't see that she's making a fool of herself by helping Mr.
Clees."

"Perhaps you don't, but I do.  You're too young to under stand these
things."

Too young!  Beside Aunt Caroline I felt old in experience.  If she but
knew!  I thought.  If I said to her: But I have been a wife and mother,
what would she make of my implausible tale?  One thing I was sure of:

she must never get a chance to make anything of it.

And that started the yearning again.  Indeed, everything seemed to lead
back to it.

When Aunt Matilda ceremoniously brought Mr.  Clees into the house. 
Aunt Caroline merely sniffed and satisfied herself with contemptuous
looks, but I had noticed the hot colour in her cheeks and the way the
veins knotted at her temples.

I said that we ought to drink to the health and happiness of the
affianced couple and without Aunt Caroline's permission I took out a
bottle of her best elderberry wine and served it.

It was rather pleasant to see Aunt Matilda looking ten years younger
and I wondered, with a return of my old frivolity, whether she would
have fallen in love with Albert Clees if he had not been deprived of a
kidney.  Amelia was pleased too.  She whispered to me that she had seen
it coming for a long time and that it was the best thing that could
happen to her father.

The wedding was to be soon, for as Matilda said there was no sense in
waiting, and Mr.  Clees gallantly added that he had waited long enough,
which made Aunt Matilda blush prettily.

When the Clees had left Aunt Caroline let forth a burst of scorn and
abuse.

"Some people thought they were seventeen instead of forty- seven."

"Forty-five," said Aunt Matilda.

"And what's the difference?"

"Two years," said Aunt Matilda spiritedly.

"Making fools of themselves!  I suppose there'll be a white wedding
with bridesmaids in wreaths of rosebuds."

"No.  Albert thinks a quiet wedding would be best."

"He's got sense enough to realize you don't want to make a fool of
yourself parading in white, then."

"Albert has a lot of sense, more than some I could name."

And so it went on.

Aunt Matilda, who had become "Matty', named thus by her devoted Albert,
was excited about her wedding-dress.

"Nigger brown velvet," she said.

"Jenny Withers will make it.  Albert will come with me to choose the
material.  And a nigger brown hat with pink roses."

"Pink roses at your time of life!"  snapped Aunt Caroline.

"If you marry that man you'll sup sorrow with a long spoon."

But in spite of her we grew quite gay over the wedding.

Amelia would come in and we would huddle together looking at patterns
for the wedding-dress and for Amelia's grey silk which was being made
for the occasion.  Amelia was to

be maid of honour.

We would all be laughing together when we would hear Aunt Caroline's
stick outside the door (she had walked with a stick since her stroke,
for one leg was useless).  Then she would come in and say nothing but
sit regarding us all with contempt.

But she could not spoil Matilda's happiness, although on the
wedding-day she refused to attend the ceremony.

"You can all go and make fools of yourselves if you want to," she
said.

"I shan't."

So Aunt Matilda was married and the wedding-breakfast was held in the
rooms over the shop with just a few guests.  Aunt Caroline stayed at
home muttering and grumbling about mutton dressed up as lamb and people
in their second childhood.

Two days after the wedding she had another stroke which rendered her
almost incapable of moving at all.  She did, however, retain her speech
which was more venomous than ever.

There followed a very melancholy period which seemed to be devoted to
the nursing of Aunt Caroline.  Aunt Matilda helped; but her first duty
was to Albert now and she was a happy wife determined to do her duty.

Often, when I was preparing a meal for Aunt Caroline, I would dream of
a life I had once visualized during three blissful days.  I thought of
living in a schloss perched high on a hill, as so many of them I had
seen had been; I thought of a gracious life with a husband whom I
adored and who adored me; I thought too of children-my little daughter
and a son.  There would be a son.  And often this seemed more real to
me than the kitchen with its rows of bottles neatly labelled by Aunt
Caroline and now often put back in the wrong place, until milk boiled
over or something caught in the oven to bring me back to reality.

During this period there was great rejoicing in the Greville family
becaue Anthony became vicar not of our church but of another on the
outskirts of the town.  Mrs.  Greville was delighted with her clever
son.

I knew that she had already seen him in his gaiters presiding over his
bishopric.

I had taken to going to church every Sunday with the Grevilles to hear
Anthony take the service; and I felt more contented than I had believed
possible.  The fact that I did not hear from Ilse added to the sense of
unreality and I began to feel that I had strayed into a strange world
where events which would seem inconceivable in a logical world had
happened.  But at night I dreamed my dreams.

On Sundays after evensong I would go to the GreviUes' home for Sunday
supper while Aunt Matilda or Amelia kept an eye on Aunt Caroline, who
was more and more needing constant attention; and it was on one of the
summer Sundays when supper had been cleared away that Anthony asked me
to go for a walk with him.  It was a lovely evening and we strolled out
to the fields beyond the city and Anthony talked, as he loved to do,
about the glories of Oxford.  He loved to discover the history of the
place and, like my father, he knew how all the colleges had been
founded; on this particular Sunday he was telling me about the legend
of St.  Frideswyde, which he said was something more than a legend.

Frideswyde had actually lived and in the year 727 founded a nunnery.

When the King of Leicester fell madly in love with her and tried to
abduct her, he was struck blind.  She lived so piously that when she
died a shrine was dedicated to her.  About this shrine a hamlet grew
up, then a village and so began the ancient town of Oxford.  There the
owners of cattle drove them across the ford where the Thames and
Cherwell met and thus the spot derived its name of Oxford.

He was so enthusiastic when he talked that he grew quite animated,
which he was not in the normal way, and I was taken by surprise when he
said suddenly:

"Helena, will you marry me?"

I was shocked into silence.  If I had ever doubted it, I knew in that
moment that I considered myself to be a married woman.  It was so long
since I had seen Use's kind face.  It was so long since I had heard
from her, that her image had faded and with it my fears that she, Ernst
and Dr.  Carlsberg must have been right.  The farther I grew away from
that time the more vivid seemed my adventure in the forest and the less
plausible their account of my lost days.

But marry!  I was already married.

"Helena, is the idea so repulsive to you?"

"Oh no," I said.

"No, no.  It was just that I hadn't thought."

I stopped.  How foolish this must seem.  Of course it had been obvious
for some time what Anthony's intentions were.  The attitude of Mr.  and
Mrs.  Greville had made it clear.  I realized with dismay that they
were expecting us to come back from our walk engaged.

I said quickly: "Of course, Anthony.  I'm fond of you."  Yes,

I was fond of him.  I liked Anthony Greville as much as any one in
Oxford.  I found his conversation interesting; I enjoyed his company. 
I should be very lonely if he went out of my life.  But I wanted to go
on as we were.  It was his friendship I wanted.  There was only one man
whom I could consider as my husband and I believed he was that in spite
of efforts to convince me that I loved a phantom.

"It's just that I hadn't thought of marriage," I finished lamely.

"I should have led up to this, I suppose," he said ruefully.

"I know my parents expected.  They are so fond of you and so am I."

I said: "It would be very suitable of course, but ..."

"Oh, Helena," he said, 'get used to the idea.  Think about it.  "

"There is Aunt Caroline," I said.

"I couldn't leave her.  She needs someone to look after her all the
time."

"We could bring her to the vicarage.  My mother would help to look
after her."

"I couldn't impose Aunt Caroline on you.  She would disrupt the
household."

I was talking round the matter, anything but to tell the truth.  I was
really agitated because talking of marriage had brought back So vividly
that room in the hunting lodge, the priest with the book and the ring,
and Maximilian standing beside me impatiently waiting for the time when
we would be alone.

I forced myself to think of Anthony.  He would be kind to me; we could
have a pleasant life together.  I could be of use to him in his work;

perhaps we should have children.  I felt the pain surging within me as
I thought of that little face framed in the white bonnet.  How could I
possibly marry without telling what had happened to me now six years
ago.

I said quickly: "I should have to have time to think ..."

He took my hand and pressed it firmly.

"But of course," he said.

We were thoughtful as we went back to the house.  I could not tear my
mind away from the past.  I kept seeing Maximilian with the eager
passion in his eyes.  I had had no doubts then; I would have made no
excuses; I would have swept them all away.  And my child .  I could not
bear it.  I must control my feelings.

When we arrived back at the house I noticed at once the expectancy in
Mrs.  Greville's face.  She was disappointed.

Anthony had now moved into the new vicarage, a charming Queen Anne
residence with spacious, gracious lawns at both front and back.  There
was a south wall at the back-older than the house.  It had been there
since Tudor days.  Peaches could be grown on it.  There were apple and
pear trees in the garden and a sundial inscribed with an old adage: "I
count only the sunny hours.  They," said Anthony, were the only ones
which should be counted.  " His parents had moved in with him.

To make sure of his comforts," Mrs.  Greville explained to me.

"Of course when Anthony marries we'll be ready to take a back seat."

She spoke significantly.  I knew she thought that although I was
hesitant I should eventually marry Anthony.  After all, what life was
there for me otherwise?  It wasn't right, said Mrs.  Greville, for
young women to be cooped up looking after old ones.  She implied that
Aunt Caroline would be no less miserable installed in a room in the
vicarage where she would help to look after her.

They were so good, so kind, and I loved them all dearly.  Why did I
hesitate?  The answer was because I was clinging to a dream.

Either in reality or my dreams I had known the perfect union and I
hungered for it.  I knew that Anthony was a good man; it seemed very
likely that Maximilian was not quite that;

but one does not always love people for their virtues.

One day when we were in the walled garden, and I was alone with Anthony
I blurted out: "Anthony, I want to be absolutely truthful with you.
I've had a child."

He was startled and incredulous.

"You remember I was away for almost a year.  It's the strangest story
and the strangest part of it is that I don't know whether or not it's
true."

I told him what had happened, beginning with my adventure in the mist
and the strong feelings that had been aroused in me that night.  I
wanted to keep nothing back.  And then I went on to my adventure on the
Night of the Seventh Moon.

"Everything was normal until then-and the rest ... Anthony, I am not
sure."

He listened intently.

"It seems incredible," he said.

"I should

like to meet your cousin.  "

"She was so good to me.  She felt responsible.  She couldn't do
enough.

She looked after me during those months .  Then she ceased to write. 
"

"Some people are bad correspondents."

"But I should have thought she would have sent me an address.  Anthony,
what do you think happened?"

"I know," he said, 'that doctors are making rapid advances in this
field and that experiments have been made.  It must have been that this
Dr.  Carlsberg used such an experiment on you, with the results we have
seen.  "

"Is it possible to forget six whole days of your life?"

"I believe it is."

And then .  this horrible thing happened to me .  and I cannot remember
it.  "

"It is better that you don't.  It seems that this was necessary to save
you pain, humiliation and perhaps great mental stress which could have
been dangerous."

"I can see that you believe the marriage to have been a myth."

"If it were not so, where is this man?  Why did he not come forward?

Why did he give a false name .  a name that you had seen was one of the
Duke's titles?  Besides, why should your cousin lie to you?  Why should
the doctor do so?  "

"Why indeed?  Everything points one way.  You as a practical man see
that."

"My poor Helena," he said, 'it was a shattering experience.  But it is
over now.  The child died, so any complications which might have ensued
have been removed.  "

I closed my eyes.  I could not bear it when anyone talked of my child's
death as this happy release.

"I wanted the child," I said fiercely.

"I would not have cared for these complications."

"You will have other children, Helena.  That is the best way to heal
that wound."

How calm he was, how kind, how unshaken in his love for me.

I knew that I had told him this because the prospect of marriage with
him was not an impossibility.

I was so pleased that I had told him.  It was a great relief.  I began
to think how comforting it would be in the future to share my troubles
with him.

TWO

The more I thought of marriage with Anthony the more rational it
seemed.  Anthony's calm reception of my revelation had shown me what a
steadying influence he would have on my life; he was a man in whom I
knew I could put my trust.  Marriage with him would be like coming into
a safe harbour after battling against the storms.  On the very next
Sunday he preached an eloquent sermon about the need to overcome past
misfortunes, never to brood on what could not be altered but to try to
profit from experience rather than to regret it.  His text came from
the story of the houses, one of which was built on sand, the other on
rock; and the shifting sands of romantic dreams were doomed to
destruction while the house which was built on the firm rock of reality
would endure.

I was so moved by that sermon that I almost made up my mind to marry
him; and yet that very night my dreams were as vivid as ever and I
awoke to find myself call for Maximilian.

I found I could talk of my experience with Anthony more freely than I
had ever believed possible.  It was a pleasure to bring it out into the
open.  We discussed it at great length and went over every detail.  He
missed nothing; but he remained firm to his conclusion that I had been
the victim of Dr.  Carlsberg's experiment and he believed that the
doctor had been right to make it.

Mrs.  Greville was constantly busy helping with the work of the
parish.

"My goodness," she used to say, 'a man in Anthony's position can't get
along without a woman to help him in his parish duties.  "

She was just a little impatient with me.  She once reminded me that I
was no longer a young girl.  I was nearly twenty-six.  No longer
young.

People would soon be saying I was on the shelf.

How I should have enjoyed pleasing them t As it was, I did everything I
could to help Mrs.  Greville.  I was indefatigable in the organization
of the sales of work; and social evenings.  I made cups of tea which
were distributed at the mothers' meetings.

"You have a flair for the work," said Mrs.  Greville significantly.

Between my constant visits to the vicarage and the work I did and my
occasional spells in the bookshop besides looking after Aunt Caroline,
the time flew.

Aunt Caroline grudged every minute I was away from the house.

"Chasing after the vicar," she used to say.

"I don't know.  Some people are man-mad."

She hated my going, out but Aunt Matty insisted.  She was very excited
about my relationship with Anthony.  She was so happy in her marriage
that she would have liked to see every one about her in the same
blissful state-Amelia, myself and even Aunt Caroline.

She always came to the house while I was away.

"Now you go and enjoy yourself," she would say significantly.

Then she thought it pleasant for me to be in the bookshop.

"Albert says you're better than anyone in the foreign department and
it's amazing how many foreigners we get in."

So the time flew past; there was never a moment to spare;

and all the time at the back of my mind-and often to the fore of it-was
the question: Could I be happy married to Anthony?  Could I make him
happy?  Should I, if I married, cease to be haunted by nostalgic
dreams?

I could see a very happy life ahead of me.  Anthony's quiet charm would
have been enhanced by a wife who had the enthusiasm I knew I could
muster and once my old high spirits returned I would be a useful
foil.

Oh yes, I would tell myself again and again, it would be ideal.

Aunt Caroline continued to complain: "Gadding about!  Running after
Anthony Greville.  Hoping he'll marry you, I suppose.  Making yourself
cheap."  I wanted to shout at her:

He has asked me; but I didn't.  And always something held me back from
accepting.

I was to have a stall at the sale of work and had been collecting for
weeks to fill it.  Members of the church sent in their donations.  One
parcel came containing half a dozen egg- cosies from the Misses Edith
and Rose Elkington.

I stared at the name for some seconds, and then I was back in the
narrow street with the cobbled road, the overhanging signs; I was
standing outside Dr.  Kleine's clinic and my body was heavy with my
lively unborn child.

Two women had spoken to me on that occasion.  Yes, their name had been
Elkington.  They sold teas and coffees, homemade cakes and home-made
knicknacks like tea-cosy covers and egg-covers.

I shivered and felt vaguely apprehensive.

I was right to feel so.  On the first afternoon of the sale of work
they were there.  Two pairs of bright eyes regarded me.  They were like
monkey's eyes dark, living, curious.

"Why, it's Miss Helena Trant."

"Yes," I said.

"We sent the egg-cosies."

"Thank you.  They are very useful."

"I hope you like the red and green combination," said the younger.

I said I thought it was most effective.

The elder of the two said: "Didn't we see you in Germany?"

"Oh ... yes, I believe you did."

"You'd gone out with your cousin, I believe, and stayed quite a long
time."

"Yes, that's right."

"Interesting," said the elder; and I did not much like the gleam in her
eye.

It made me more uneasy.

Aunt Caroline worked herself up into a fury that night.  Matilda had
come in and hurried off early because she was worried about Albert.

You had to be careful with one kidney, she kept saying.

I was late back.  I had had quite a success with my stall and by the
time I had added up the takings and packed away the unsold goods and
gone back with Mrs.  Greville with this, it was beginning to get
late.

Aunt Caroline screamed at me when I came home.

She really looked very wild, her hair in disorder, her face flushed.

She had been knocking on the floor with her stick for the last half an
hour.  No one had answered.  Our maid Ellen was a lazy
good-for-nothing, she declared; Matilda was besotted about that man
next door; Amelia had gone to some concert;

and I of course was busy chasing Anthony Greville.  No one had spared a
thought for her, but that was how it was when you were ill.  People
were so selfish.

ll She went on and on and I was afraid for her because the doctor had
said that she must not become excited.  He had given me some pills
which should have a calming effect but when I suggested she take one,
she cried: "That's right, blame it on to me.  I'm the one who has to
calm down.  I have to keep quiet.  I mustn't say a word.  You all go
gadding off to enjoy yourselves in the grand man-hunt.  First Matilda
Matty she calls herself now.  Matty indeed!  She's gone back to her
second childhood.  And as for you!  You're brazen you are.  I wonder
the vicar can't see through you.  Well, you're not a girl any more, are
you? You're getting a bit worried.  You're going to be left on the
shelf if you don't watch out.  But nobody could say you're not watching
out.  On the prowl, I'd say."

I cried: "Be quiet.  Aunt Caroline.  You're talking nonsense."

"Nonsense.  Nonsense that's as plain as the nose on your face. Nonsense
indeed!  Anyone with half an eye can see what you're after."

I was goaded beyond endurance and I said: "As a matter of fact Anthony
has asked me marry him."

I saw her face change, and I knew then that this was what she feared,
and suddenly I saw clearly what her life had been.  She had not had
Matilda's more simple nature; Matilda had been interested in her
invalids and sympathetic towards them:

there was no sympathy in Aunt Caroline's nature.  She had been the less
attractive of the two sisters.  She was the eldest of the family.  My
father had come in between.  She had had to stand aside for him and
envy had eaten into her soul.  I saw it there on her face-envy of my
father for whom sacrifices had had to be made, for Matilda, who had
made other people's ailments her interest and who had now found a new
life in her marriage; myself, as she thought, about to marry.  Poor
Aunt Caroline, robbed of everything; the education my father had had,
the husband Matilda had; and in addition she was an invalid.  I felt
deeply sorry for her.  Envy that deadliest of the seven sins-had etched
those bitter lines about her mouth, had tightened it and set the
sneering glitter in her eyes.  Poor, poor Aunt Caroline.

I thought: I must look after her.  I must try to be patient.

"Aunt Caroline," I began, "I ..."

But she was groping for her pills.  I took one and put it into her
mouth.

I said, "You had better rest now.  I am here if you want anything."

She nodded; and that night she died.

No one could mourn her.  Her passing could only be what was aptly and
so commonly known as 'a happy release'.  "Her condition could only have
worsened," said the doctor.  Aunt Matilda reverted to type and talked
endlessly about hearts which were such funny things but were going to
get you in the end.  I should sleep next door until after the funeral,
she said.  Mrs.  Greville immediately invited me to the vicarage, but I
had already accepted Aunt Matilda's offer.  So I slept in the room
which had been mine as a very small child before my father had acquired
the house next door.

There was that bustling which funerals always meant.  Aunt Matilda was
in her element.  Funerals as the ultimate climax to illness were a
matter of great interest to her.  Everything must be done in a manner
which she considered 'right'.  Black had to be ordered and made at
great speed; as chief mourner Aunt Matilda assumed a great
importance.

I was next and we should go together; she would lean on my arm and I.
would have to support her.  Tears were necessary on such an occasion,
and it was very strange, she told me, that some' people did not always
find it easy to shed them.  One must not speak ill of the dead (an
important point in funeral etiquette) but Aunt Caroline had been very
ill and it was hard to regret her death.  If tears should prove
difficult, and she knew that I was by no means an easy shedder of them
("You' never were," she confided.

"It was something to do with being sent away from home when you were
young'), she had heard a peeled onion concealed in the handkerchief was
very effective.

I listened to the chattering and I thought how life had changed for her
since Mr.  Clees had come along; and that she was a much pleas anter
person than she had been under the sway of Aunt Caroline and a
participator in the perpetual bickering that seemed inevitable.

Marriage had been a blessing for her.  And for me?  I believed it would
be the same.  The black arrived.  Aunt Matilda was not pleased with
Amelia's hat; her own, with its jet brooch and dead black satin
ribbons, was a triumph.  There were the wreaths which caused great
consternation lest they should arrive too late.  Aunt Matilda could not
bear the thought of her sister's being :y carried to her last
resting-place without the "Gates of Heaven ,

Ajar' which she and Albert were contributing.  In our little
drawing-room the coffin stood on trestles; there was a funereal smell
throughout the house.  The blinds were drawn in all rooms and our
little maid had gone home to her mother because she couldn't face
spending the nights alone in the |j house with the dead.

At last the day arrived.  The solemn black-clad, top-hatted men walking
beside the black-velvet caparisoned horses provided mournful solemnity,
and the necessary pall of gloom had been arranged even to Aunt
Matilda's complete satisfaction.

Then back to the rooms over the shop to partake of funeral meats.  Cold
ham.  Aunt Matilda said, was a necessity.  At one funeral she had been
given cold chicken, which in her opinion showed a certain levity out of
keeping with the occasion.

The evening came.

T should stay here one more night," said Aunt Matilda.  So I did; and
in my little room that night, I thought: I should marry Anthony.

Just as I had almost made up my mind something happened to make me
hesitate.

Ellen, our little maid, came back after the funeral looking very
thoughtful.  She was absent-minded and during the second day I asked if
there was anything wrong.

"Oh, Miss Helena," she said, "I don't know whether or not to tell
you."

"Well, if you think it would help you ..."

"Oh, it's not me, miss.  It's ... you."

"What do you mean, Ellen?"

"It's you and the vicar, and I don't believe it and I don't think I
should repeat it ... but perhaps you ought to know.  I'm sure it's just
wicked gossip."

"Do tell me."

"Well my mum had it from someone who had been in their shop and she
said there was a lot of people there and they were all saying it was
shocking and that the vicar ought to be told ..."

"But what, Ellen?"

"I hardly like to say, miss.  They're saying that when you went away
all that time it was because you was in trouble and that you had a
baby."

I stared at her.

Who said this, Ellen?  "

"It started with them Miss Elkingtons.  They said they saw you there .
and it was clear and you was coming out of some hospital."

I remembered it all so clearly: the little street; the exultation I had
felt because my child would soon be born; four curious monkey-like eyes
regarding me intently.

"It's nonsense, I know, miss.  But I thought you ought to know."

"Oh yes," I said.

"I ought to know.  You did right to tell me."

"Well, there's nothing to it but gossip.  I know that, miss.  So does
anybody who knows you.  Them Miss Elkingtons is terrible gossips.  My
mum says that's what they've got a shop for.  Miss, when you get
married, you'll be wanting someone up there and as I know your ways . *
I said: " I'll remember, Ellen.  "

I wanted to get to my room and think.

Of course, I said to myself, I can't marry Anthony.  The Elkingtons
would always be there to gossip.  What a horrible sordid story!  I had
gone abroad to have a child .  No, we could not live that down.

Like Caesar's wife, the vicar's must be beyond reproach.

I told Anthony what Ellen had told me.

He brushed it aside.

"My dear, we'd live that down."

"But it's true.  I was pregnant when they saw me and it was obvious.  I
did have a child."

"My dear Helena, that's in the past."

"I know and with you I should be building the house on the rock.  But
it's not fair to you.  A scandal like that could ruin your career.  It
could prevent your progress."

"I'd rather have a wife than a bishopric."

"I might fail you."  I frowned.  I remembered the emotions Maximilian
had stirred in me during that night in the mist.  I remembered the slow
turning of the door handle.  If the door had opened, what then?  I
believed that I should have found him irresistible.  What if by some
miracle he came back?  I feared that so strong would be my feelings for
him that he would have the power to wreck that house-built on a rock
though it might be.

Again I took refuge in prevarication.

"I must think," I said.

"This has changed things in a way."  He wouldn't agree, but I
insisted.

It was at this time that I decided to write down what had happened to
me in order that I might come to some conclusion as to what actually
occurred on the Night of the Seventh Moon.  But I must confess that
when I came to this point I was no nearer the truth than I had been
before.

I put the account away so that I would always have a record of it and
as the years passed I could re-live that time of my life in detail.

But it was not long after this that I again stepped into that fantastic
world, and then I made up my mind that I would write down my adventures
as they happened so that they would be clear and precise.  I wanted the
plain truth undistorted by time.

So when I once more arrived in the Lokenwald I started to record my
adventures as soon as they began to happen.

The Reality

ONE

With Aunt Caroline dead, life became calmer, giving one greater
opportunity for reflection.  How peaceful it was!  I would hear Ellen
singing as she worked.  The days were full; I worked regularly at the
bookshop which I found very interesting.  When I was not working there
I was helping with church affairs; but the Elkingtons had spoilt that
for me and I was always apprehensive about meeting them.  So I gave my
attention to the shop and it was there that I encountered Frau
Graben.

She came in one day-a comfortable, plump, middle-aged woman with
streaks of grey in her wispy hair which escaped from under a plain felt
hat.  She was dressed in a rather dowdy brown and grey check travelling
coat over a skirt of the same material.  I was talking to Amelia and
she made straight for us.

She said in a halting English with an accent which made my heart beat
faster: "You will help me.  Vot I want iss ..."

I immediately spoke to her in German and the effect was miraculous.

Her plump face lighted up, her eyes shone and she answered volubly in
her own language.  In the space of a few minutes she told me that she
was visiting England and that she spoke very little English-both of
which facts were fairly obvious and that she wanted a little book which
would help her to understand the language.

I took her along to the German section in the foreign department,
telling her that I had a phrase book she would find useful and I
thought that a dictionary would be of great help.

She made the purchases and thanked me, but seemed loath to go and as we
were not busy I was quite happy to talk with her.

She had arrived only a few days ago in England and had come to Oxford
because a friend of hers had been educated there.  She wanted to see
the place of which she had heard so much.  Was she enjoying England?  I
asked.  Yes, was the answer but the language barrier was a
difficulty.

She felt lonely and she could not tell me how wonderful it was to find
someone who could talk to her as I could.

I found myself explaining to her that my mother was German and that she
used to talk to me in her native tongue, and that I had been educated
in a Damenstift near Liecbtenkinn.

The joy in her face was expressive.  But that was wonderful.  She knew
the Damenstift well.  It was not so far from where she lived.  This was
better than ever.

After half an hour she left, but the next day she was back again and
made a further purchase.  Again she stayed to talk.

She looked so wistful when she was about to walk out of the shop that I
asked her to tea next day.

She arrived at the expected time and I took her into the little
sitting-room which seemed so much more gay now that Aunt Caroline was
dead.  Ellen brought in the tea and some cakes which she had made. 
They weren't up to Aunt Caroline's standards, but neither of us cared
for that.

The conversation was exciting, because Frau Graben knew the forest
well.  She told me that she lived in a small schloss perched on the
mountainside and here she was the Schloss- mutter.  She was in charge
of the household and was the children's chief nurse.  She was indeed
the mother.  She proudly told me that she was responsible for the
management of the schloss.

The children to whom she referred with affection were Dagobert, Fritz
and Liesel.

"Whose children are they?"  I asked.

"They're the Count's."

I felt dizzy with an excitement which had grown greater ever since I
had met Frau Graben.

"Count ...?"  I reiterated.

"Well," she said, 'he's the Duke's nephew and a gay young gentleman he
is, too.  Many people thought he was mixed up in his father's
plotting.

But now Count Ludwig has gone there's still my lord Count and no one
can be sure what he might be up to.  "

"What of the Countess?"

"She's a suitable wife for him and they have one son."

"I thought you said there were three children?"

"I'm not actually in the Count's household.  I have nothing to do with
that son."  She shrugged her shoulders.

"You know how it is ... But perhaps you don't.  My lord was always
after the women; Ludwig was the same.  It runs in the family.  They
used to say that Ludwig was the father of a good many more than he
owned to.  And, my goodness, you can see the family features in the
little ones playing about in the villages."

"And these three?"

"He admits to them.  Special favourites their mothers must have been.

And the Count likes any connected with him to be well looked after.

He's fond of them in his way and comes to see them now and then.  He
takes an interest in their future.  And as our own state of Saxe-Coburg
was allied with the royal family of England he wants them all taught
English.  "

"This Count," I said, 'what is he like?  "

"He's like all the family tall and good-looking, and fond of his own
way.  No woman's safe once he's taken a fancy to her.  Yes, he's just
like all the family.  I was nurse to them so I know, and I reckon that
nursery was as difficult to control as a whole dukedom.  The mischief
those boys got into!  I had my hands full, I did.  And in their
mid-teens it was the women they were after.  But I will say this.  He
looked after the children.  It's my belief that many a girl puts her
trouble down to his door.  He's careless.  He'll see she's all right.
He likes the fun, he says, and doesn't mind paying for it.  The
children think he's wonderful.  Young Daggie will grow up just like
him.  I'm not so sure of Fritzi.  There's something different about
Fritzi.  I worry about him.  He needs a mother and of course that's
just what he hasn't got."

"Where is his mother?"

"She's dead, I dare say.  But the mothers wouldn't come to the schloss
in any case.  Once he's done with a woman he's done with her.  But I
will say he takes an interest in the children.  He didn't like the way
some of the family couldn't speak English with the Queen's party when
she came visiting us from England after her husband's death.

"I want the children to learn English," he said.  So now of course
we'll have a new teacher for them.

"An English teacher," he said.  He's not going to have them talking
with a German accent.  "

"And the Count-does he speak English?"

"He's been educated here ... in this place.  He speaks English like
you do.  That's how the children will have to."  "They'll have to have
an English teacher."

"Yes, that's what he aims at."

She went on to tell me about the children.  Dagobert was the eldest. 
He was twelve-and boys of twelve can be a handful;

then came Fritzi, as they called Fritz.  He was ten.  He missed his
mother.  I thought: He would be a year older than my daughter, and the
terrible yearning was back with me.

"Then there's Liesel.  A haughty little piece she is.  Five years 'old
and very much aware of her noble blood even though her mother was a
little dressmaker who came to the court to sew."

Again I was being caught up in that fairy-tale atmosphere.  The
excitement had come back to me in force.  I wanted her to go on talking
to me about the schloss on the mountainside that looked down on the
valley in which lay the town of Rochenburg, the capital city of
Rochenstein, which was ruled over by the Duke Carl who was also the
Count of Lokenberg.

It seemed a remarkable coincidence that Frau Graben had come into the
shop and that I had been there to attend to her;

that she had been so eager to talk in her own language that she was now
sitting drinking tea in this house and bringing back so vividly that
romantic adventure which had begun eleven years ago in the mist.

As she was leaving she said suddenly, "Now you're the sort of person
we'd want to teach them English."

I felt a little faint.  I stammered: "But I'm not a teacher."

She went on: "It would have to be an English person.  The Count was
thinking of a tutor.  But I don't think a woman would be out of place .
better, I think.  Women understand children more.  I wonder ..."

"I had no intention of teaching," I said.

"You would want somebody qualified."

"He'd want someone of education; but the main thing is someone who'd
understand the children and speak German so well you could hardly tell
it wasn't spoken by a native.  Yes, I do reckon you're just the one."

"If I had been looking for such a post ..."  I began.

"It would only be for a short time, of course.  I don't know how long
they'd take to learn.  You love the mountains and the pine forests,
don't you?  You'd live in the schloss.  I'd be there, as the
Schlossmutter.  I'm in charge of the children's household.  There's
something about you ... sympathetic ... that's it.  When the Count
talked of having an English tutor I didn't like it at all.  I don't
want a man interfering in my household.  I'd like a nice young woman, I
thought.  But not one of those stern, sharp-voiced English mistresses.
Oh no!  I wouldn't want that.  I told the Count so.  But my tongue's
running away with me.  If he engages a tutor, a tutor it'll be. Perhaps
he has already done so.  Well, it has been interesting talking to
you."

I said: "You must come again."

She held my hand when she said goodbye and there were tears in her
eyes, as she thanked me for being kind and taking in the 'stranger
within my gates'.

That night I scarcely slept at all.  I was so excited.  I thought of
the schloss on the mountain looking down on the capital city and I
longed to be there.  I knew that I could never settle down happily with
Anthony until I had made one great effort to discover the truth of what
happened to me on the Night of the Seventh Moon.

I asked Frau Graben to tea again, just before she left Oxford.  She
talked of her home, of the children, of customs and feast days, of
Rochenstein, of good Duke Carl who was stem and serious, so different
from some of the previous rulers and members of his family.  She told
me about the visit of the Crown Prince and Princess of Prussia and I
knew. didn't I, that the Crown Princess was Victoria who was named
after her mother the Queen of England.

I was in a panic because she seemed to have completely forgotten her
reference to the English teacher who would be wanted for the Count's
children; I knew that I wanted to go, that this was an opportunity, a
flimsy one it was true, and one which had come about as unexpectedly as
as the visit of Ilse and Ernst.

I had hoped that my cousin would ask me to pay another visit but she
never wrote.  Perhaps Ilse was not a good letter- writer and once she
had assured herself that I had settled down after my experience she
thought correspondence unnecessary.  But she might have answered my
letters.

It was I who had to make the reference.

"I should like to know that you return safely," I said.

"Would you write to me?  I feel you have become a friend and I should
like to know how you get along with the tutor."

"Oh, that tutor!"  she cried.

"I hope he never comes."  She looked at me, her plump face earnest.

"Suppose I was to

mention our meeting.  The Count sets store on my opinion.  Would you ?
Just suppose he thought it might be a good idea.  " She warmed to the
subject.

"It would save so much trouble.  We would have an Englishwoman and
there wouldn't be the fuss of seeing you.  I've done that already.

I can think of no one more suitable .  from my point of view.  I could
tell the Count .  "

"I'd ... I'd like to think about it."

She nodded.

"Well, that's something.  I'll mention you, and if he hasn't done
anything ... and if he agrees ..."

"Well," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You might mention it."

Now I could think of nothing but the possibility.

It was nine years ago since the day I left.  Nine years!  I should have
made greater efforts to discover what had happened.  I had accepted the
solution given me by Ilse and Ernst; but they had faded into the past
and seemed more unreal than Maximilian could ever be.  Perhaps if I
could go back I might discover the answer.

I must go back.  I could take a holiday there perhaps with Anthony. 
No, that would not do.  I should have to go as his wife and I must be
free free for whatever I should find.

I did not wish to go as a tourist.  But to go to the schloss on the
mountainside, looking down on the capital city .  that was what I
wanted.  I knew then that I must go.

I lived in a fever of excitement.  I was absent-minded in the shop.  I
kept away from the vicarage as much as possible.

"You are letting those Elkington women's gossip bother you," said
Anthony.

"You mustn't, you know.  We'd face anything there was to face
together."

But it was not that.  I was obsessed by the thought that I might find
him.  So it would be throughout my life.  If ever I had known that
marriage with Anthony would be unfair to him and perhaps wrong for me,
I knew it now.

And at length there was the letter.

I was trembling so much that I could scarcely open it.  The words
danced before my eyes.

She had spoken to the Count.  He agreed that the idea was excellent and
as she had already vetted me there would be no need for any other
recommendations.  Would I let them know when I should be arriving and
the sooner the better as far as they were concerned.

I was so excited I rushed into the shop and told Amelia.

"Go away to teach 1 You're crazy.  What about Anthony?"

"Nothing has been settled between us."

Aunt Matty was distraught.  Just as she had thought I was nicely
settled!

"Perhaps it won't last long," I said.

"I might not like it."

"Go for a holiday," advised Amelia.

"Take a month or so and when you come back you'll have made up your
mind to marry Anthony."

But what could they know of this violent longing.

Mr.  and Mrs.  Greville were clearly hurt but Anthony understood.

"Go," he said.

"This place meant something to you when you were young and
impressionable.  You see it different now you're grown up.  You'll come
back and then I'll be waiting for you."

He understood as no one else could.

I did love him but not in the wild unreasoning way I had loved before.
I knew I was saying goodbye (but he said au revoir) to the best of
men.

All the same, when the day of my departure arrived I felt more like the
young girl I had once been than I had for nine long weary years.

TWO

It was dark when I arrived at the Schloss Klocksburg so that it was not
until morning that I was able to take stock of my surroundings.  I
awoke to the sunshine of an early summer's morning which filtered into
my room through two long narrow slits of window.  A feeling of
overpowering excitement was with me and for a few moments I lay still,
saying to myself: "I'm here.  I'm back."

Then I got out of bed and went to the window.  From it I could look
down on to the plateau from which the castle rose; I knew we were high
because of the laborious manner in which the horses had climbed the
previous evening; and I guessed that the castle had been built in the
twelfth or thirteenth century, like so many I had seen in this part of
the world, as a fortress, and had been added to as time progressed.

I was sure that the fortress in which I had my room was older than the
buildings I was looking down on.  These would be known as the
Randhausburg, which meant surrounding house- castle, and they would
contain the main living-quarters.

Beyond them I could look down into the valley to the town of Rochenburg
which was the capital city of Duke Carl's domain.  How beautiful it was
in the light of early morning, with its mellowed roof-tops, its towers
and turrets.  Smoke was rising from some of the chimneys.  Far above it
on the hill stood another castle of imposing appearance.  Like the
Schloss Klocksburg there was the fortress with its turrets rising up
stark from the mountainside, proclaiming its impregnability;

I could make out the machicolated friezes which adorned the watch
tower, and the round tower with the pointed roof and battlements from
which in the past boiling oil and water would have been hurled down on
attacking enemies.  It was the most impressive of any among all the
many castles I had ever seen.

A knock on my door made me turn from the window.  It was a maid with
hot water.  Breakfast would arrive in fifteen minutes' time, she told
me.

In a state of exultation I washed and dressed.  I shook out my long
dark hair in the way Maximilian had liked it to be when we had taken
our breakfast in the hunting lodge.  The magic was coming back to me so
vividly that I don't think I should have been surprised to see him walk
in, but when there was a knock on the door it was only the maid with my
break fast tray-coffee, rye bread and lots of fresh unsalted butter. 
It tasted good and while I was drinking my second cup of coffee there
was another knock and Frau Graben came in.

She was beaming and looked as though she were very proud of herself.

"So you're really here," she said.

It was gratifying to know that my presence gave her so much pleasure.

"Oh, I do hope you are going to be happy," she went on.

"I've impressed on Dagobert that he must be a good boy because it is a
great honour that an English lady should come all this way to teach
him.  If you have any difficulty with him just tell him that his father
will not be pleased; that will quieten him.  It always does."

"When shall I see them?"

"As soon as you're ready.  Perhaps you'd like to talk to them a bit
about what you're going to teach them.  You won't want to start
lessons today.  When you've seen them I will take you round the
castle."

"Thank you.  I shall be most interested to see it.  That's a very big
castle I can see from my window."

She smiled.

"That's the Duke's residence," she said.  oh yes, it's more grand than
little Klocksburg, which is only right and proper.  I came to the royal
castle when I was a young girl and looked after the boys.  It became
like home to me.  And then afterwards the Count wanted me here.  That
was when Dagobert was born and he didn't know what to do with the
child. After that Fritzi and Liesel joined us.  But drink up your
coffee or it will get cold.  Is it to your liking?  "

I said it was excellent.

"I believe you are quite excited about being here.  I can see it's done
you good already."

I replied that I hoped I should give satisfaction.  I had never taught
before.

"This isn't ordinary teaching," she said with that comfortable
complacency which I had found rather charming.

"It's conversation that matters, so that they get the right accent.
That's what the Count will look for."

"I'm very eager to see them."

They'll have had breakfast.  I'll send for them to come to the
schoolroom.  "

We left my room and descended a spiral staircase which led into a
hall.

"This is where the schoolroom is," she said.

"Are we in the RandhausburgT " No .  we're still in the fortress.  The
children have their rooms here just below yours, but the rest of the
household lives more in the Randhausburg.  "

She opened a door.

"This is the schoolroom," she said.

"The pastor comes to teach them.  You will have to make your
arrangements with him about the English lessons."

"There should be a lesson every day," I said.

"I am sure regularity is necessary.  Perhaps an hour a day and very
soon I hope to converse in English when I am with them, and perhaps
take them for walks and give them easy lessons that way."

"That sounds excellent."

We went into the schoolroom quite a large room with several embrasures
in which were windows looking down on the town and across to the royal
castle.  The view from the windows was breathtaking.

n. o. s. m.

129 E

There was a long table, rather scratched on its surface, and the legs
were kicked- I guessed many generations of children had sat at that
table.  In the embrasures were window-seats on which lay books.

I remarked that it was a very pleasant room in which to work.

Frau Graben glanced at the watch pinned to her blouse.

"They will be here very soon," she said.

"I do hope they are not going to be too difficult."

There was a knock on the door and one of the maids entered; she was
holding a little girl by the hand and behind her came two boys.

"This is Dagobert and Fritz and here is Liesel," said Frau Graben.

Dagobert clicked his heels and bowed from the waist; Fritz, watching
him, did the same; Liesel dropped a curtsey.

"This is Miss Trant who has come to teach you English."

"Good morning," said Dagobert in guttural English.

"Good morning," I replied.  Dagobert looked at his brother and sister
as though expecting applause.

I smiled at them.

"We shall soon have you all speaking English," I said in German.

"Is it easy?"

"When you've mastered it," I assured them.

Shall I speak it?  " asked Liesel.

"You will all speak it."

Frau Graben said: "I will leave you with the children and then you can
get to know them more easily.  Perhaps they could show you the
castle.

That would be a good way of getting friendly.  "

I thanked her.  She was tactful, and I was sure that I could come to
terms with my new pupils more easily on my own.

Liesel ran to the door as it shut on Frau Graben.  I said:

"Come back, Liesel, and make my acquaintance."

Liesel turned and put her tongue out at me.

Dagobert said: "She's only a seamstress's daughter.  She doesn't know
how to behave."

Liesel began to scream: "I do.  My papa is the Count.  He will beat
you.

My papa loves me.  "

"Our father would not have you forget your manners," said Dagobert.

"So although you have the misfortune to be the daughter of a common
seamstress, you have a noble father and you should not disgrace
him."

"You disgrace him," said Liesel.

Dagobert turned to me: Take no notice of her, Fraulein Trant," he said;
but his eyes as they swept over me were contemptuous and it struck me
that I should have more trouble with him than with the wayward
Liesel.

Fritz-Frau Graben's Fritzi-had not spoken.  He was regarding me with
solemn dark eyes.  It occurred to me that he might be the more
difficult to understand.  I had already decided that Dagobert was a
young braggart, Liesel a spoilt child, but I had yet to form an opinion
of Fritz.

"So you are Fritz," I said.

He nodded.

"You're not to nod," said Dagobert.

"Papa said so.  You have to speak and say yes or no."

I said: "You are going to learn English.  Do you know any yet?"

"I know Good afternoon, Mr."

"Good afternoon, Mrs," chanted Liesel.

Dagobert crowned it with: "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!"  and
watched me for applause.

"That is all very well," I said, 'but will not get you very far.  What
else do you know?  "

"God save the Queen!"  said Dagobert.

"We shouted it when the Queen of England came here.  We all had flags
and had to wave them."  He waved an imaginary flag; then he started to
run round the room shouting: "God save the Queen."

I said: "Please be quiet now, Dagobert.  The Queen is not here so it is
not necessary.  You have shown me how you shouted for her when she was
here, so I know."

Dagobert paused.

"But I want to shout for the Queen."

"The rest of us might not want to hear."

The children all looked expectant and Dagobert said craftily: "But
you've just come to teach us English, not to tell us when we can't
shout for the Queen."

The other two looked at Dagobert in admiration.  I could imagine the
state of affairs.  He was Cock of the Nursery and as they looked up to
him, I could imagine his spreading rebellion.  He had too high an
opinion of himself.  That, I decided, must be deflated as soon as
possible.

I said: "If I am going to teach you I must have some authority.  It is
not a very admirable or clever thing to do to run

round a room calling out a catch phrase even though it does show a
hospitable sentiment towards the Queen of England.  As I wanted to talk
to you about your lessons, I would prefer you not to continue,
Dagobert.  "

Dagobert was astonished.  I knew at once that he was not correctly
disciplined and that he needed a firm hand more than the others.  I
could certainly look for trouble from Dagobert.

"My father went to Saxe-Coburg to see the Queen," Fritz told me
shyly.

"That was a long time ago," said Dagobert scornfully.

"Prince Albert is dead and the Queen is a widow.  God save the Queen.
God ..."

"Not again Dagobert," I said.

But if I want to I will.  "

"In your own company then," I said.

"I am going to ask Fritz and Liesel to show me the schloss, and I shall
tell them about our English lessons."

Dagobert looked at me coldly defiant; his legs apart, his head flung
back, his blue eyes flashing.

I turned away and said: "Come, Fritz ... Liesel..."

Dagobert said: "No.  You're not to."

I felt my future authority depended on the next few seconds so I took
Liesel's hand.  She tried to draw it away but I held it firmly.  Her
big blue eyes surveyed me with a kind of scared wonder.  It was Fritz
who decided.

"I'll show you, Fraulein," he said.

"Thank you, Fritz."

His eyes were large and expressive.  I knew that he had scarcely
stopped looking at me since they had come into the room.  I smiled at
him and he smiled shyly back.

Dagobert started to run round the room shouting "God Save the Queen'
but I shut the door firmly on him and said:

"In English we don't say Fraulein, Fritz.  We say Miss.  I'm Miss
Trant, you see."

"Miss," said Fritz.

I nodded.

"Come on, Liesel.  You say it too."

"Miss," said Liesel, and laughed.

"We shall have a short lesson every day," I told them, 'and when we are
together we will speak in English.  We will surprise your father with
your progress.  Now you will tell me about the schloss.  It is castle
in English.  Can you say castle?  "

They both said it to my satisfaction and their own intense delight.  I
contemplated that it would have been easy without Dagobert.

They showed me the rooms in the fortress-all with their embrasures in
which were the long narrow windows.  They took me up to the tower and
Fritz told me that the tower was called the Katzenturm, the Cats'
Tower, because the falling missiles which they used to throw down on
the invading forces sounded like the screeching of cats.  We stood up
there looking down on the town and across the mountains and Fritz
pointed out the Duke's castle high on the slope.  Could I see the long
buildings on the eastern side?  They were the barracks and there the
Duke's Guards lived.  It was fun to see them standing there.

"They guard it all the time," said Fritz.

"Don't they, Liesel?"

Liesel nodded.

"They have blue coats."

"Dark blue coats, with gold on their sleeves and they have shining
helmets.  Sometimes they have feathers in them.  They stand so still
you think they're not real."

"I should like to see them."

"We'll show you, won't we, Liesel?"

Liesel nodded.

I felt I was getting on very well.  Liesel was ready to go with whoever
was the leader, I could see that.  Fritz was quite different from
Dagobert.  He was much smaller but then he was several years younger;

his eyes were dark whereas Dagobert's eyes were light blue; his hair
was brown and straight, Dagobert's waved about his head like a
glistening gold cap.  Dagobert was the handsome one but Fritz
interested me.  He had a sensitive face and I remembered Frau Graben's
saying that he missed a mother.  I could well believe it.  Dagobert
would be self-sufficient; Fritz less so.  I was sure, though, that
Fritz was going to prove the better pupil.

I thought: He would be a year older than my own child.  And I thought
fleetingly how wonderful it would be if she had lived and all had gone
as in those magic three days I had believed they would.  Suppose this
were my home-suppose instead of with these children I were here with my
own .  I shook myself free of fancies.  I must be firmly realistic 1
must not allow the pine forests to put their spell on me.

"We'll go to the town together," I said, 'and I'll tell you what
everything is in English.  That will be a lovely and easy way to learn.
"

"Will Dagobert come?"  asked Liesel.

"If he wants to."

"Shall he be whipped if he won't?"  asked Fritz.

"Would you whip him?"

I could not see myself so engaged so I smiled faintly.

"I shall just ignore him.  If he doesn't want to learn he will be
ignorant and when the Count comes he will say: " Well, what English
have you learned?

"" And you and Liesel will speak to him in English and he will be
pleased.  Dagobert will know nothing.  "

Liesel laughed.

"It'll serve him right," she commented.

They took me down into the Randhausburg.  This was of much later
period-sixteenth or seventeenth century, I believed.  It consisted of
several turreted buildings on the mountain plateau above which the
fortress rose.  The sleeping quarters of the rest of the household
were'in one of these and in another was the Rittersaal the hall of the
knights which would be used for ceremonial occasions.  Beyond this was
the stone-floored kitchen with its roasting spits and cauldrons.

It smelt of sauerkraut and onions.  During our tour we met one or two
of the servants who bobbed curtseys at me when Fritz told them who I
was.

It was in the Rittersaal that Dagobert appeared; he stood quietly
listening to what I had to say and he was trying to pretend, I could
see, that he had been with us all the time.

"This was where the knights used to be," Fritz told me.

Dagobert said: "Look at all the swords on the wall."

That one's the Count's," said Fritz.

"No, that one," contradicted Liesel.

"That's the biggest."

"They're all the Count's, sillies," declared Dagobert.

Liesel put out her tongue.

"We're going to speak English and you're not going to know any.
Fraulein Trant said so."

"No, that's not right, Liesel," I corrected.

"What I said was that if Dagobert didn't want to be with us when we
learn he would know nothing and then your father would wonder why he
couldn't speak English like you and Fritz."

"I'll speak English best of all," said Dagobert.

I smiled inwardly.  This was early victory.

"Can he?"  asked Fritz almost anxiously; and I knew then that Fritz was
hoping for an opportunity to excel the half- brother who beat him at
almost everything he did.

"The one who works the hardest will be the best," I said.

"It's as simple as that."

Victory indeed 1 I had instilled in my pupils a determination to apply
themselves and succeed.

After we had examined the Randhausburg we went back to the fortress,
and the children showed me the hunting room.  The ceiling of this room
was decorated with groups of animals and there were some stuffed heads
on the walls among guns of various kinds.

"We practise shooting," Dagobert told me.

"I'm a good shot.  Bangi Bang!  I shoot to kill."

"You couldn't," said Fritz.

"The cartridges are all blank."

"Yes, I could," insisted Dagobert.

"Bang."

"We have archery lessons too," Fritz told me.

"We practise in the courtyard," added Dagobert.

"I hit the target every time."

"You don't," Fritz disagreed.

"I would if I wanted to."

"Well, I shall see," I said.

"Now we'll go to the schoolroom and I'll see the Pastor."

"The Pastor doesn't come today," Dagobert said, scornful of my
ignorance.

"Then I shall tell you what I hope to do about our daily lesson.  Then
I can arrange the time with the Pastor when he does come."

We were mounting the staircase and came to a passage.  I could turn
right or left.  One way led to my room, so I took the other and found
myself at the foot of a spiral staircase.  I started up this when Fritz
called to me urgently: "Fraulein Trant ..."

I was about to say: "It's Miss Trant in English," when I turned and saw
the fearful expression on his face.  He was standing at the bottom of
the staircase.

"What's wrong, Fritz?"  I asked.

"You mustn't go up there."

The other children came up.  Their faces bore the same excited yet
frightened look.

"Why not?"  I asked.

"The haunted room's up there," explained Fritz.

"Haunted?  Who says so?"

"Everybody," answered Dagobert.

"Nobody goes there."

"The servants go to dust it," contradicted Fritz.

"Never by themselves.  If you go there by yourself something terrible
will happen to you.  You'd die and stay there for ever to haunt
people."

Fritz had turned very 'pale and I said sharply: "That's non135

sense.  What could be in there?  "

The ghost," said Fritz.

"Has anyone seen it?"  I asked.

There was silence.  I walked up a step or two then Fritz said: "Come
back, Fraulein, Miss ..."

I said: "There's nothing to be afraid of, I'm sure."

An irresistible urge forced me to go on and besides I did not want the
children, on whom I had made a good impression, to think me afraid,
particularly Dagobert who, as I advanced, crept up behind me.

All the children were watching me.

The staircase ended in a small landing on which was a door.  I went
towards it and took the door knob in my hands.  I heard the gasp behind
me.

I turned the handle.

The door was locked.

The rest of the day passed as though I were in a dream; I had to keep
reminding myself that I was really here.  I took luncheon with Frau
Graben in a little room in the Randhaus- burg which she said was her
sanctum.  Her delight in my presence was very gratifying but I was a
little afraid that I might not live entirely up to expectations.  I had
not had a great deal to do with children; yet although I had never
thought to teach, when I had realized that I might have a child
dependent on me and Ilse had suggested that I teach in the Damensfift,
the idea had seemed possible.  I had thought of Ilse quite often since
I had known I was coming here and of how strange it was that after we
had been so close during my months of waiting for the birth of my child
she should have faded out of my life.  For I really had no idea where
she was now.

In the afternoon of that day I met Pastor Kratz, a shrivelled little
man with very bright sparkling eyes.  He thought it an excellent plan,
he said, that I had come to teach the children English.  He himself had
toyed with the idea of introducing it into the series of lessons he
gave, but his accent was not good.  Nor was his English, and there was
no one who could teach a language like a native of the land to which it
belonged; and when that teacher had a good command of the pupil's
language also, then it was ideal.

I was to give the children half an hour's lesson each morning and
another half-hour's session in the afternoons, but I set greater store
on what they would learn through conversation with me.

"The Count will expect quick progress," said the Pastor, his eyes
twinkling.

"He is a very impatient man."

Frau Graben confirmed this.

"He was always like that, even worse than his cousin."

"Who was his cousin?"  I asked.

"The Prince, the Duke's only son and heir.  They were brought up
together as boys.  What a handful 1 I can tell you all about that.  I
was nurse to them both."

The Pastor invited me to call at the church, when he would show me the
Processional Cross.  The Church was well worth a visit, he told me. 
The stained glass windows were famous throughout Europe.  I must come
and see them.  The cross itself was kept strongly guarded in an oak
chest which dated back to the twelfth century.  Notice had to be given
if one wished to see it, for the keys of the chest were locked away in
a secret place and only the current pastor knew where; it was a secret
passed on from pastor to pastor, a custom which had gone back all those
years, for the cross with its lapis- lazuli and chalcedony, its rubies,
pearls and diamonds, was priceless.

I said I should love to see it.

"Then you must let me know when and it shall be brought out for you.

Two of the Duke's guards will be on duty at the church while we look at
it.  "

"So it is as priceless as that?"

"It's an old custom, really.  The church has always had to be guarded
when the Processional Cross was brought out.  Old customs die hard in
these parts."

I thanked the Pastor and was sure that we were going to get along well.
He was an unworldly little man but his zest for enjoyment was clearly
great and both these qualities I found endearing.

In the afternoon the children took me for a little walk round the
plateau on which the castle had been built.  The scenery was
magnificent.  I was fascinated as always by the tall straight pines and
firs and the little streams.  We wandered a little downhill from the
plateau, and the castle was soon hidden from our view by the trees; I
loved it all the sudden rush of a waterfall the silver and spruce
firs-the occasional woodcutter's hut; the sight of a little village
below us and the sudden tinkle of bells which the cows wore

about their necks to guide the cow herds in which direction to.  ;

go to find them when the mist descended.  I talked to the, |. children
as we went, giving them the English names for what we saw.  They seemed
to find this an exciting game and Dagobert was on his mettle trying to
show that he could play this game so much better than the others.

Fritz, however, seemed to learn more easily and I was secretly glad
about this.  I felt drawn strongly towards the quiet dark boy.

When we returned Frau Graben was waiting for us rather anxiously.

"I was afraid they would have taken you too far," she said.

"Now, children, you just go off and Ida will give you your milk.  Miss
Trant, you come with me.  I have a treat for you."

The treat was tea.

"We know what you English are for tea," she said, beaming; and I felt I
could not have been made more welcome.

It was very pleasant to sit in Frau Graben's little room which looked
on to a tiny cobbled courtyard.

"It's worked out so very well," she said.

"It's so strange," I replied.

"If I hadn't happened to be in the shop that day ..."

"Don't let's think of anything so disastrous," she cried.

"You are here and that makes me happy.  What do you think of the
children?"

"They are interesting."

"They've all had such unconventional beginnings.  Dagobert is the son
of the Count and a lady of high quality.  He would have married her but
Count Ludwig his father wouuldn't give his permission.  It was not the
match he wanted for Frederic, and Frederic is near enough to the
dukedom to have to obey orders.  So he made the right marriage and now
he has a fine boy of eight.  He sets great store by him and I know he
hoped he'd inherit the dukedom one day, because the Prince was so
reluctant to marry."

"So this boy is the heir."

"Not he.  And that's a sore point with Master Count.  The Duke insisted
the Prince, his son, marry and he couldn't hold out for ever.  It was a
necessary marriage; one 'of the terms in a treaty Rochenstein made with
Klarenbock.  So the Prince married Princess Wilhelmina.  That was five
years ago.  There's a child-a boy; he's three years old, a son and
heir.  So our Prince has done his duty."

"I suppose I shall learn the country's politics in due course."

They're frequently discussed.  In a little country like this the
reigning family lives close to the people.  "

"Shall I see the Prince and Princess?"

Her expression was suddenly enigmatical; she seemed to be suppressing
secret mirth.

"Oh, our ruling family's seen," she said.

"Not like English Royalty, you know.  We hear about England.  It's
because of our close ties since the Queen's marriage with one of our
princes.  I hear she shuts herself away since she lost him.  She goes
around in her widow's weeds and won't give up mourning, though it must
be ... how long since he died?"

"It's nine years," I said.

"She was absolutely devoted to him."

"Well, our Duke isn't allowed to shut himself away.  He comes down from
the castle into the town to attend certain functions; he hunts in the
forests.  The Prince is away at the moment.  He's in Berlin at the
Court of Prussia representing his father at a conference.  Count
Bismarck is constantly summoning heads of state to Berlin.  I think
he's of the opinion that we're all vassals of great Prussia.  He is apt
to forget that we are independent states and that is what the Prince is
no doubt telling him now."

"You know the Prince well, I suppose."

"I should do.  I was his nurse.  He and the children's father were
brought up together.  And what a task to keep those two in order.  The
spirits!  They were always fighting, those two boys.  What a pair.  The
Prince is sure of himself, playing the Grand Duke almost in the nursery
and Count Frederic determined to show he was as good as his cousin.
They've been behaving like that ever since.  But I'll have none of
their old tantrums I've told them both.  I still think of them as my
boys in the nursery and however grand they may think they are to others
they're just my two boys to me."

I asked if the children were like their father.

"There's a resemblance," she said.

"Dagobert's got a look of him.  That affair was more serious than the
others.  Liesel was the daughter of the sewing woman whom the Count
took a fancy to."

"And Fritz?"  I asked.

"Fritz was two and a half when he came here.  His mother had died, they
said.  She'd been a lady of quality and when Fritz was' conceived she
had disappeared.  The Count was frantic for a while, but you know how
these men are.  He was quickly on with the next.  Then the woman who
had been

Fritz's foster mother died.  I knew her; she was once one of the
nurses under me.  I had him brought here to be brought up with
Dagobert.  But Fritz was old enough to remember that he wasn't always
here; I think it upsets him a bit.  The woman who cared for him was
like a mother to him and he missed her.  "

"This Count seems to be very careless as to where he fathers
children."

"My dear Miss Trant, he's only following the tradition.  They've always
been ones for the women.  They see them, they fancy them and there's no
holding them back.  If there are results they don't mind and nor do the
women.  Take Liesel.  She's well looked after, she's being educated, a
good marriage will be made for her.  That wouldn't have happened to her
if her mother had married a woodcutter, say.  The child would be
wandering the forest gathering sticks and not being sure where her next
meal was coming from."

I was silent for a while; then I said, "I think I shall be able to
teach them something.  I want to be with them as much as possible.  I'm
already looking forward to the time when we can converse in English."

"It'll come.  You're going to succeed.  I'm sure the Count will be
pleased."

"If he isn't," I said, "I shall go back to England."

Then I thought of it: the shop, working for the parish, gradually
clinging to the comfort which Anthony was offering But at the moment I
was in revolt against all that, for something told me that I was on the
verge of discovery, that life was going to be exciting, though perhaps
not happy for happiness and excitement did not always go together.

Not yet, Anthony, I thought; and then I realized that al though I had
relegated him to the back of my mind I liked to think of him there.

"Don't say that, when you've only just come.  What do you think of
Klocksburg?"

"It's fascinating.  I've seen many a schloss during the time I have
spent here but I never thought to live in one."

"The children showed you over it, I hope?"

"Yes, they took me everywhere, I think ... except one part.  It
appeared to be locked."

"Oh, the haunted room.  There are haunted rooms in most castles, you
know."

"What is the story about this one?"

She hesitated.

"Oh, the usual, love ... ending in tragedy.  A young woman threw
herself from the window to her death."

Why?  "

"It was years ago.  The present Duke's great-grandfather I think
brought her here.  She thought she was his wife."

"And she wasn't?"

"It was a mock marriage.  It was often done-still is.  The girl would
not give in to him so the marriage was arranged.  The so-called priest
who performed the ceremony was no priest at all, but one of the
courtiers, so of course the marriage was no true marriage and the girl
was tricked.  Her scruples were calmed and the honeymoon followed.  In
these cases when the bridegroom grows tired of the liaison he passes on
and the lady realizes the truth.  It's been done many a time."

"I see.  And this girl?"

"Her lover was deeply enamoured of her.  The story is that he might
have married her if he had not been married already -as his position
demanded."

"So he deceived her?"

"Deceiving simple girls was one of their favourite pastimes.  It meant
more to them than ruling their lands.  But he was more involved than
was customary with this girl.  He brought her to Klocksburg and she
lived here thinking herself a countess.  At first he came to visit her
and then the visits grew less frequent.  From the turret room-the one
behind the locked door so the story goes she used to look for him.

From the window you can see the road winding right down to the town.

Day after day she sat there watching and waiting.  Then one day he
came, but with him he brought his Countess, who had insisted on
accompanying him.  The poor girl wondered who the lady was and when the
Count entered Klocksburg the first thing he did was go up to that room
to his mistress.  The story is that when he told her the truth she
wouldn't believe it.  He insisted she keep quiet about their
relationship.  She must come down to the Randhausburg and behave as
though she was here as the chat elaine of the castle to keep it in
order for the time when the Count and his Countess should call.  When
he went away she locked herself in her room and, opening the casement
window wide, jumped out to her death.  Well, you can see how these
stories start from that.  "

"Poor girl," I said.

"She was foolish," said Frau Graben, pursing her lips.

"She

could have lived all her days in comfort.  The Princes always looked
after their favoured women.  "

"I can well imagine the shock of believing oneself married and finding
one was not."

"They say she haunts the place.  Some say they've seen her.  If she
comes back it must be because she realizes that it was a silly thing
she did.  She could have gone on living in comfort."

"I understand her feelings."

"Well, I keep the door locked.  I don't want any of the maids getting
hysterics.  I go in with one of them once a week to dust and clean;

then I see that it's locked up.  "

I couldn't get out of my mind the thought of that girl watching for her
lover and learning how he had deceived her.  When she had told the
story Frau Graben had seemed secretly amused, sly even.  I felt for the
first time that she might not be the simple warm-hearted woman I had
imagined her to be.  It seemed absurd to say there was something
sinister about her but that was how it seemed.

I quickly dismissed the thought as ridiculous.

I dreamed about that girl.  I understood exactly how she felt.  My
dreams, as dreams so often are, were muddled, and I was the girl; and
the man I saw riding up the mountain was Maximilian.

The children were very excited because Pastor Kratz was going to show
me the Processional Cross.  The road down to the town was about a mile
long though there was a path, which could only be undertaken on foot or
on horseback, which was much shorter.  There was a surefooted little
mare in the stables which had been put at my disposal, and the children
had their ponies.  Frau Graben said that Liesel should not ride all the
way down to the town as she was not a practised enough rider, and as
the little girl set up wails of protest at the thought of being
excluded from the expedition, she promised to take her down in the
horse carriage while I went down on my mare with the boys.

It was a beautiful afternoon; the sun was shining through the trees and
one caught glimpses of silver streams glinting among the rocks.

Dagobert rode ahead; he liked to see himself as a leader, but Fritz
kept by my side as though he were taking care of me.  He was ahead of
Dagobert in his English and displayed a remarkable ability for
remembering the words I taught.

Already he had a small vocabulary, which was very pleasing.

As the trees grew less thick we could see the distant mountains and my
eyes as ever went to the royal castle and I thought of Frau Graben as a
young woman in her nursery there with the two boys on whom even now she
clearly doted.

Below was the town taking on a definite character as we approached .  a
fairy-tale town with turrets, towers and red tiled roofs against a
background of trees.

Although the main part of the town was in the valley, it was to some
extent built on the slope and as we passed first through the Oberer
Stadtplatz, with its fountain and arcades of shops, I was reminded
vividly of Lokenberg, on the Night of the Seventh Moon.  We were now in
the month of June;

very soon it would be the ninth anniversary of that night.  I must ask
Frau Graben whether the occasion was celebrated here.

We passed through narrow streets which sloped down to the Unterer
Stadtplatz and here was the church with its baroque dome and Gothic
walls.

Dagobert told me that we should stable the horses in the Prince Carl
Inn which was close by the church.  Delightedly knowledgeable, he led
the way.  The innkeeper received us with some deference, for he knew
the boys.  Dagobert haughtily accepted this and our horses were taken
and we went to the church on foot, where Frau Graben and Liesel were
already waiting.

Pastor Kratz said how pleased he was that he could show me the cross.

Two soldiers from the Palace were already standing on guard in the
crypt where the oak chest was kept.

"I'm afraid it's a great deal of trouble," I said.

"No, no," cried the Pastor.

"We like people to see the cross.  Usually there is a small party of
sightseers, but you, as a member of the Count's household, don't have
to wait for that.  I should be delighted to show you the church
first."

This he did.  It was a fine old church dating back to the twelfth
century; the stained glass windows were the pride of the town, the
Pastor told me gleefully; and they were magnificent; the blues, reds
and golds depicted the story of the Crucifixion and lit by the sun
presented a truly magnificent sight.

There were memorial tablets on the walls and I read the
inscriptions;

these were scions of the old families of the district.

"The ducal family does not appear to be represented here," I said.

"They have their own chapel in the castle," said Frau Graben.

They come here, though, for State occasions," put in the Pastor.

"Coronations, royal christenings and such events."

"Those would be great occasions for the people," I added.

"Yes, indeed.  Like everyone else we enjoy our ceremonies."

' "The Family" , as we call them," explained Frau Graben, 'are not
buried here.  They have a special burial ground.  It's an island."

"I want to take Fraulein Trant to the Island of Graves," announced
Dagobert.

7 don't like it much," said Fritz.

"You're afraid," accused Dagobert.

"Now, now," put in Frau Graben.

"Nobody's going to take anybody to the Island of Graves who doesn't
want to go."

"What a strange name," I said.

"You children run on," said Frau Graben.

"Go out and look at the tombstones."

"It's not the same as the Island," said Dagobert.

"It couldn't be because it's not an island."

The boys had stopped to study an effigy in stone.  Dagobert spelt out
the inscription.  Frau Graben drew me aside and I asked: "What is this
Island of Graves?"

"You should visit it.  I think you'd find it interesting.  But I don't
want Liesel to go.  She's too young.  It's rather a morbid spot.  But
it's only the Family's burial ground.  The island is in the middle of a
lake and there is a ferryman who lives there and rows people back and
forth.  He looks after the graves."

"And the members of the ducal family are buried there?"

"The family and those connected with it."

"Servants, you mean?"

"No ... no.  People closer than that."

Closer?  "

"Well, the dukes, the counts, they had their friends and sometimes
there were children.  There is a part of the island which is for people
like that-close to the family, you might say, and yet not of it."

The blue light from the stained glass window fell across her face as
she spoke and again I was struck by the slightly mischievous light in
her usually calm and simple face.

She went on: "You must visit the Island of Graves.  I'll take you
myself."

"I'd like to see it," I said.

"We'll arrange it."

We were ready to go down to the crypt and I was surprised by the little
ceremony.

It was dank in the crypt; Fritz kept close to me and I wondered whether
it was for my protection or his own; Dagobert's swagger was a little
less convincing.  There certainly was an eeriness about the place,
perhaps because of the smell of damp and the dimness of the light.  Our
footsteps rang out on the stone floor, seeming to echo, and then I saw
the great oak chest on either side of which stood a soldier in the blue
and gold uniform of the Duke's Guards.

They stood at attention while three soldiers approached, one of these
held the key.

I was astonished and a little embarrassed that all this ceremony should
be for me.

The Pastor took the heavy bunch of keys.  Opening the chest took a
little time but the operation at length was completed.  In it was the
treasure of the church-I saw the silver goblets, the chalice and the
crosses which were of silver and gold set with semi-precious stones.

But the latter were not to be compared with the Processional Cross
which was kept separately in its heavy wooden case which again had to
be unlocked.  It was at length revealed to me.

The children gasped as they gazed on it-lying on black velvet.  It
seemed to shine with an uncanny light and was intricately wrought in
gold, enamel and precious gems.  Each of the large stones which formed
the centre had, I was told, a story attached to it.  Each had been won
in battle.  In those days the country had been wild and the small
dukedoms and principalities were constantly at war with each other.

The centre diamond and the two rubies on either side had been set in
the cross to emphasize the invincibility of the Duk&s of Rochenstein.

If the cross were stolen it was believed that would be the end of the
line.  This was why it was so guarded, not only because of its value
but because of its legendary importance.

I was rather glad when the cross was back in its box and

the chest locked; so were the soldiers.  They relaxed at once and
ceased to look like stone statues.  The children changed too; they
began to talk in loud voices whereas previously they had whispered.

They appeared to know the soldiers well.  One called Ser- i geant
Franck was a particularly jolly fellow.

We came up from the crypt and were soon in the sunshine.  "

"There," said Frau Graben, 'now you've seen the Processional Cross.

You'll see all the sights in time.  "

She seemed to be secretly amused and again I wondered whether I really
knew her as well as I had thought.

THREE

It was the boys who took me first to the Island of Graves.  Each
afternoon during my first week at Klocksburg we went out into the
forest-they on their ponies, I on my mare.  I enjoyed these jaunts for
they enabled me to get to know the children better and I was more
fascinated by the forest than ever; every time I went out I felt as
though I were on the verge of an adventure.  As we were in summer the
mountainsides seemed to be touched by a blue and pink mist which were
the gentians and orchids flourishing there at that time of the year.

They were breathtakingly lovely among the green.

On this particular day the boys had led me on to the downward slopes
and as the land grew flat we came to a little wood in which the trees
grew so close that the branches caught us as we rode beneath them.  We
came to a clearing and there to my astonishment was a lake, in the
middle of which was an island.  On the shore were two boats fitted with
oars.

They had made up their minds to bring me here, I guessed, and were
about to show me something of which they were rather proud.

We tethered our horses to one of the trees and both boys set about
gathering the leaves and flowers which grew close to the water.

Then Dagobert cupped his hands about his mouth and shouted: "Franz!

Franz!  "

I asked whom they were calling and they both exchanged secret
glances.

Dagobert said: "Wait and see.  Miss."  I replied that I wanted to know
what they were about and appealed to Fritz.

He pointed towards the island in the middle of the lake and I saw a
boat being pushed out.  A man jumped into it and began rowing towards
us.

"That's Franz," Fritz told me.

Dagobert was determined to be the one who disclosed the secret.

"Franz," he said, 'is the keeper of the Graber Insel.  He is coming to
take us over so that we can put flowers on our mothers' graves.  You
can row over yourself but Franz likes you to call him.  "

The distance between the Island of Graves and the shore was, I guessed,
less than a quarter of a mile.  The man in the boat was very old and
bent; his grey hair grew long about his face, which was almost covered
by his beard so that little more than his eyes were visible and they
were embedded in wrinkles.

"Franz," called Dagobert, 'we want to show Miss Trant the island.  "

Old Franz brought the boat on the shore.

"Well, young masters," he said, "I was expecting you."  His voice had a
hollow ring; he wore a long black robe like a monk's and on his head
was a tiny black skullcap.  The little eyes were on me now.

"I heard you were here, Fraulein," he said.

"You must come over to my island."

"She wants to see the graves," said Dagobert.

I was unaware that I had expressed such a wish but it seemed impolite
to say so before their keeper.

"It was time you young masters came," said Franz.

He took my hand to help me into the boat.  His was dry, rough and
cold.

Something about him made me shiver.  I thought of him as Charon, the
boatman of the Styx.  Fritz was close behind me as though to protect
me, I thought; and I was touched.

Dagobert leaped into the boat.

"Are you frightened.  Miss?"  he asked gleefully, clearly hoping that I
was.

"Why do you ask?  Did you expect me to be?"

"Franz lives all alone on Graber Insel, don't you, Franz?  Most people
are a bit scared when they go there because there's nobody there but
the dead and Franz, of course.  I wonder if you will be scared.  Franz
isn't scared.  He lives there

all alone with the dead, don't you, Franz?  "

"For seventy years," he said.

"Seventy years on the island.  My father was keeper before me, and I
knew I'd follow on."  He shook his head sadly.

"I've no son to follow me."

"What will they do when you die, Franz?"  asked Dagobert.

Old Franz shook his head.

"They'll bring someone else in.  Before, it was handed down from father
to son."

"Oh Franz, the dead won't like it.  I bet they'll haunt the next one
and drive him away."

"This is a very morbid subject," I said.

"I'm sure Franz will be the keeper for many years yet."

Franz looked at me with approval.

"My grandfather lived to ninety.  My father to ninety-three.  They say
that the dead give the gift of long life to their keepers."

"Oh, but you haven't got a son to follow you, Franz," Dagobert reminded
him.

"They won't like that."

"Why are you so pleased at the prospect, Dagobert?"  I asked.

"Well, they'll come out and haunt the next one, that's why."

The oars lapped gently in the water.  I could see the island very
clearly now.  There appeared to be avenues of trees and flowering
shrubs.  It was very beautiful; and among the trees was a tiny house
which reminded me of the gingerbread cottage in Hansel and Gretel.  I
felt as though I were entering the fairy-tale world again.

The boat came to rest on the shore and we scrambled out.

"First show her the ducal graves," demanded Dagobert.

"Come this way," said Franz.

The two boys went off to lay their flowers on their mothers' graves and
I followed Franz into one of the avenues between the flowers and the
trees.  There were the graves; 'they were magnificently kept and
glowing with flowers; the marble effigies were beautiful; so were the
statues of angels guarding the graves and on some were gilded caskets
and ornamentations in gilt and wrought iron.

"These are the graves of the family," Franz told me.

"After the memorial services and the burial ceremonies they are brought
over to me to lie in their final resting-place.  I tend the shrubs and
keep the graves fresh.  Members of the Family sometimes come here, but
rarely young ones.  The young don't think of death.  These two boys
come, though.  That's because their mothers lie here ... though not
among the ducal avenues.  There are two burial grounds here-that -of
the dukes and their legitimate families and those whom they have
honoured, as they call it.  Some might say dishonoured.  The boys come
because they like to remind themselves that they are connected with the
Family.  I will show you the other graves afterwards.  First look at
these of the Family.  This one is Ludwig's grave.  He is the brother of
Duke Carl and a traitor.  He was killed by the Duke's friends and just
in time for if he had not been killed he would have killed the Duke."

"I 'have heard something of Ludwig."

"He will not easily be forgotten.  And there is Count Frederic to
follow him.  Trouble ... trouble ..."

"Why should there be trouble between the Duke and Count Frederic?"

"There is often trouble in families ... particularly our old German
ones.  In the old days when the estates were so poor the brothers drew
lots to see who should have what there was.  An estate divided would
have brought very little to brothers if there were many of them and
there so often were -so that the only thing was to draw lots and let
the winner take all.  This has caused trouble through the ages.  Those
who have not inherited believe they owe their positions at the present
day to the ill luck of their ancestors in the past.  Many seek to win
back by treachery what luck has denied them.  Ludwig was such a one. He
wanted to unseat Carl and rule Rochenstein himself."

"And the boys' father is his son?"

"Yes, Count Frederic will have to be careful.  He will have the Prince
to answer to.  But Frederic is clever.  He'll bide his time."

"So these are the dead ones," I said.

"Well, if they suffered when they were alive they have been given due
homage here.  The graves are lovely."

"It's my pride to keep them beautiful," Franz said, his face lighting
with a smile.

"I'll swear there are no more beautiful graves than mine in the whole
of Europe."

I walked down the line of graves and read the inscriptions.  There were
the Dukes of Rochenstein and Dorrenig and Counts of Lokenberg.

"Family titles all of them," murmured Franz.  As ever when I read that
name I thought of myself back in the hunting lodge and the ceremony
when Maximilian had slipped a ring on my finger .  a ring which
disappeared with my dreams .  and the marriage lines which said I was
his wife which had no substance either.

There were several avenues, all exquisitely kept-the grass weeded, the
flowers blooming to perfection.

I saw the boys who called to me; and old Franz led me over to them.  I
passed through a gate and was in a walled graveyard.  Here the graves
were simple mounds with small grey stones at the head of them.  I
noticed some had no stones at all.

"These are the graves of those who are buried here with the permission
of some member of the Family," Franz explained.

"I'll show you my mother's grave," said Dagobert.

I followed him, stepping cautiously between the graves to one with a
headstone rather more elaborate than most of the others.  On it was
written Countess von Plinschen and the date of her death, 1858.

Dagobert said: "She died when I was born ... she died having me."

"That's sad," I murmured, touched to see the reverent manner in which
he laid the pink orchids on her grave.

Fritz said: "My mother died too.  Can I show you where she is?"

He took my hand and we walked away from the others.  I was conscious of
the eyes of Franz following me and I thought what a gruesome place this
was, and it was a pity that the Family, as they were called, hadn't
buried their dead in a churchyard like normal people.

I was deeply touched at the sight of Fritz kneeling by that grave.  It
simply said on it Luisa Freundsberg and nothing more.

"She loved me very much," said Fritz, 'but of course I was an
embarrassment to her.  "

"My dear Fritz," I said.

"You must have been a great joy to her."

His eyes were suddenly touched by pain as he said: "I don't remember
her.  I only remember Frau Lichen and then there was Frau Graben."

"Well, I dare say they loved you dearly."

"Yes," he admitted shyly, 'but it is not the same as a mother.  "

"There will be others in your life to love you," I assured him; and
that seemed to please him.

We went back and joined the others.

Franz offered us refreshments and we went into his gingerbread-like
house to partake of them.  We stepped down into a room in which were
several flowers in pots.  The scent was almost overpowering.  We sat at
a table and from a cask he drew mugs of what tasted like beer.  I
didn't greatly care for it but the boys drank it with relish.

Franz told me he had made it himself.  He looked after himself.  He
never went to the mainland; his provisions were sent over once a week
by the Family, and sometimes he saw no one for weeks on end.  The boys
visited the island regularly once a month and every now and then when
there was a burial the body was brought over by night and laid in its
grave.

He was gardener and stonemason.  In the old days it had been easier. 
He had helped his father; his mother had died when he was quite a
boy.

Women didn't take kindly to Graber Inset.  He himself had married a
wife.  He had gone to the mainland to find her, he said sadly.  He
brought her back and waited for his son.  But there was no son.  The
island gave her the creeps, she said.  She couldn't live there; and one
night when he was asleep she crept out and rowed herself over to the
mainland, and in the morning he awoke to find her gone.  She was never
heard of since, and he was unable to take another wife-even if he could
have found one to share his lonely life on the Island of Graves.

I was glad when we were in the boat again.  There was something uncanny
about Graber Insel and I couldn't stop thinking of the old man as
Charon, the ferryman of the dead.

That night I awoke with a start.  I had dreamed a great deal in the
last eight years but never more vividly than since I had come to
Klocksburg except of course in the months directly following my
adventures.

This time I had believed I was on the Island of Graves and in that
avenue I found an inscription on which was written Maximilian Count
Lokenberg, and as I watched the marble slab was lifted and Maximilian
stepped out of the tomb.  He came to me and took me in his arms and his
embrace was a frozen one.  I cried out: "You are dead?"  and woke up.

I had thrown off all the bedclothes.  I was shivering.  The window was
wide open to the mountain air.  I lighted my candle.  I knew I
shouldn't sleep for some time.

It was all coming back so vividly to me, as it always did after dreams,
and with it that aching sadness with which I had become familiar.  It
brought with it a fearful sense of loss

from which I believed I should never recover.  There could never be
anyone in my life to take his place.

Then I heard footsteps on the landing outside my room.  I looked at my
watch.  It was just after one o'clock.  Who could be walking about at
this time?  There were only the children and two maids in the fortress,
the rest of the household had their quarters in the Randhausburg.

The steps were stealthy as though someone was carefully picking a way
towards my room.  They stopped.  I saw my door handle slowly turn.  I
remembered that I had locked the door.  Since my adventure in the mist
I had made a habit of this and even at home I did it.

"Who is that?"  I asked.  There was no answer.  I listened, then I
heard the footsteps going on.  They were mounting the stairs, I
believed.  I felt the goose pimples rising on my skin;

if I was right and those footsteps were mounting the stairs they could
only be going to one place the room in the turret -the haunted room.

The two maids in the fortress and the children were all afraid of the
haunted room.  So .  who could it be who was now stealthily making for
it?

My curiosity was greater than my fear.  Since I had come here the
conviction had grown up within me that I was going to make some great
discovery.  I could not help feeling that I was a stranger to myself,
and I must be so to a certain extent because I did not know whether I
had actually lived through the greatest adventure of my life or dreamed
it.  I knew that until I could satisfy myself as to what really
happened on the night of the Seventh Moon, I could never understand
myself and therefore never know real peace of mind.

Why investigating uncanny footsteps on the stairs should help me, I did
not know.  AU I was aware of was that these pine forests were the scene
of my lost six days and somewhere here I would find the secret.

So I must leave nothing unexplored, however remote it might seem to my
personal affairs.

I hastily wrapped a dressing-gown about myself and picked up a
candle;

I unlocked the door; I looked out along the landing to the winding
staircase.  I could distinctly hear the footsteps on the stairs
above.

I sped up there, holding my candle as firmly as my trembling hand would
allow.  Someone was there.  Could it be the ghost of the woman whose
lover had deceived her and who had thrown herself down from the turret
windows?

The candle light flickered on the spiral stone stairs which were worn
in the middle by hundreds of years of use.  I was almost at the
turret.

There was the door.  My heart leapt with fear, the candle tipped
sideways and almost went out.  A figure was standing at the door of the
haunted room.

I saw a hand reach out to turn the knob.

Then I realized who it was.

"Fritzi!"  I whispered, using the pet diminutive.

He did not look round.

I went up to him, all fear evaporated.

"Mutti," he whispered.  He had turned to me and seemed to stare without
seeing.  Then I realized.

Fritz was walking in his sleep.

I took his hand firmly in mine; I led him down the stairs and back to
his room.  I put him into his bed, tucked him up, and kissed him
lightly on the forehead.

I whispered: "Everything is all right, Fritzi.  I'm here to look after
you."

He whispered: "Muttit Meine Mutti ..."

I sat by his bed.  He was very quiet and after a while appeared to be
sleeping peacefully.  I went to my own room.  I was very cold so I got
into bed and tried to warm myself.

I slept little for the rest of that night; I kept straining my ears for
the sound of footsteps.  In the morning I decided to talk to Frau
Graben.

"He was always a nervous child," she said, beaming at me.  In her
sitting-room she kept a fire going most of the time and invariably had
a kettle singing on it.  She also kept what she called a stockpot and
this provided a most appetizing-smelling soup.

She made tea for me.  She always did this with a kind of smug delight
as though to say, "See how I look after you?"

As we sat sipping the brew I was telling her about last night.

"It's not the first time he's walked in his sleep," she said.

"It's dangerous, I should think."

"They say that people who walk in their sleep rarely hurt themselves.

There was one of the maids .  so the story goes .  who got out of one
of the windows and walked along the parapet of the tower without coming
to any harm.  "

I shivered.

"No, " Pritzi's never come to any harm sleep-walking.  They| say they
step over anything that's in their way.  " | " But tie must be in a
disturbed state to sleep-walk, don't| you think?  " ^ " Poor Fritzi,
he's the sensitive one.  He feels things morel than the other two.  "
:| " Yesterday they took me to the Island of Graves.  "

"Oh, that upset him.  It always does.  I don't like them going there,
but don't like to stop it.  After all, it's right they shoulct| respect
their dead mothers."  | "I think it's a pity there has to be so much
talk, about the| haunted room.  The fact that it's kept locked makes
then al imagine all sorts of horrors behind those closed doors.  Have^
the children ever been in the room?"  No.  " ;^ " It's do wonder
they're overawed.  The fact that Fritz made| his way up there shows
that it's on his mind and he connects!  it in some way with his dead
mother, because he was at the Island of Graves yesterday.  "

He seems to have been better since you came.  Learning English agrees
with him.  Or perhaps it's you.  He seems toj have taken a real fancy
to you-and you to him.  " She gave;

me that rather sly look of hers.

"I reckon he's your favourite;

among the children.  I'm glad, for Fritzi's sake.  "

"I'm interested in him.  He's a clever boy."

"I'll agree with you."

"I think he needs to be a member of a big uncomplicated family."

"They say all children do."

"I was wondering about that room.  What is it like?"

"It's just a room.  It's in the turret and so it's circulari There are
several windows, the lattice type that open out.|| That was why it was
so easy for her to open one and get out."  ^ "And this room has been
locked for years and years."  ^ "I don't think so.  The fortress wasn't
used much before I Count Frederic brought the children here.  Then
there was this|| story about the haunting and I thought it better to
keep the,;.| door locked."  || I hardly liked to go against her
authority so I was silent but she pressed me.

"You think it's wrong to keep it locked, then?"  she went on.

"If it was treated just like an ordinary room people would forget the
story," I said.

"Such stories are best forgotten,

She shrugged her shoulders.  Then she said: "Would you like me to leave
it unlocked?"

"I have an idea it would be better.  Then I'll try to make light of it
and perhaps go up there occasionally with the children."

"Come with me now and I'll unlock it."

She kept her keys dangling from her belt like a good chat elaine she
delighted in those keys.  I suppose she regarded them as a sign of her
authority.

I put down my cup and we went up to the turret-room together, she
unlocked the door.  I must confess I caught my breath as we entered,
though why I could not imagine.  There was nothing eerie about the
room; the windows and its extremely elevated position made it very
light. There were several beautiful rugs on the wooden floor, a table,
a few chairs, a settee and a bureau.  It looked as though it had been
recently occupied.

"It's not been used since ..."  said Frau Graben.

"It's a beautiful room," I said.

"You can use it if you like."

I did not know that I wanted to do that.  Approached only by the narrow
spiral staircase which led to the turret, it was isolated and although
it was easy to feel comfortable here during the day with a companion I
remembered the uneasy feeling I had experienced last night when I had
followed Fritz up here.

"Perhaps we can use it ... later," I said.  I imagined lessons up
here;

laborious conversations in English as to the beauty of the view, which
was, as from all the windows in the fortress, magnificent.

"Which was the window from which the lady fell?"  I asked.

She led me across the room.

"This one."

She unlatched it and pushed it outwards.  I leaned out.  I was looking
straight down the mountainside, for as in so many of the castles in
these parts the mountain's side had been used to form a wall.  The drop
was sheer.  I could see right down to the valley.

Frau Graben moved closer to me.

"Silly girl she was 1' she whispered.

"No, Fritzi's never come to any harm sleep-walking.  They say they
step over anything that's in their way."

"But he must be in a disturbed state to sleep-walk, don't you think?"

"Poor Fritzi, he's the sensitive one.  He feels things more than the
other two."

"Yesterday they took me to the Island of Graves."

"Oh, that upset him.  It always does.  I don't like them going there,
but don't like to stop it.  After all, it's right they should respect
their dead mothers."

"I think it's a pity there has to be so much talk, about the haunted
room.  The fact that it's kept locked makes them imagine all sorts of
horrors behind those closed doors.  Have the children ever been in the
room?"

"No."

"It's no wonder they're overawed.  The fact that Fritz made his way up
there shows that it's on his mind and he connects it in some way with
his dead mother, because he was at the Island of Graves yesterday."

"He seems to have been better since you came.  Learning English agrees
with him.  Or perhaps it's you.  He seems to have taken a real fancy to
you-and you to him."  She gave me that rather sly look of hers.

"I

reckon he's your favourite among the children.  I'm glad, for Fritzi's
sake.  "

"I'm interested in him.  He's a clever boy."

"I'll agree with you."

"I think he needs to be a member of a big uncomplicated family."

"They say all children do."

"I was wondering about that room.  What is it like?"

"It's just a room.  It's in the turret and so it's circular.  There are
several windows, the lattice type that open out.  That was why it was
so easy for her to open one and get out."

"And this room has been locked for years and years."

"I don't think so.  The fortress wasn't used much before Count Frederic
brought the children here.  Then there was this story about the
haunting and I thought it better to keep the door locked."

I hardly liked to go against her authority so I was silent but she
pressed me.

"You think it's wrong to keep it locked, then?"  she went on.

"If it was treated just like an ordinary room people would forget the
story," I said.

"Such stories are best forgotten, surely."

She shrugged her shoulders.  Then she said: "Would you like me to leave
it unlocked?"

"I have an idea it would be better.  Then I'll try to make light of it
and perhaps go up there occasionally with the children."

Come with me now and I'll unlock it.  "

She kept her keys dangling from her belt like a good chat elaine she
delighted in those keys.  I suppose she regarded them as a sign of her
authority.

I put down my cup and we went up to the turret-room together; she
unlocked the door.  I must confess I caught my breath as we entered,
though why I could not imagine.  There was nothing eerie about the
room; the windows and its extremely elevated position made it very
light. There were several beautiful rugs on the wooden floor, a table,
a few chairs, a settee and a bureau.  It looked as though it had been
recently occupied.

"It's not been used since ..."  said Frau Graben.

"It's a beautiful room," I said.

"You can use it if you like."

I did not know that I wanted to do that.  Approached only by the narrow
spiral staircase which led to the turret, it was isolated and although
it was easy to feel comfortable here during the day with a companion I
remembered the uneasy feeling I had experienced last night when I had
followed Fritz up here.

"Perhaps we can use it ... later," I said.  I imagined lessons up
here;

laborious conversations in English as to the beauty of the view, which
was, as from all the windows in the fortress, magnificent.

"Which was the window from which the lady fell?"  I asked.

She led me across the room.

"This one."

She unlatched it and pushed it outwards.  I leaned out.  I was looking
straight down the mountainside, for as in so many of the castles in
these parts the mountain's side had been used to form a wall.  The drop
was sheer.  I could see right down to the valley.

Frau Graben moved closer to me.

"Silly girl she was 1' she whispered.

"She would have been dead before she reached the valley," I said.

"Silly girl 1' she repeated.

"She could have had so much and she chose to kill herself."

"She must have been very unhappy."

"No reason to be.  This castle was her home.  All she had to do was
keep in her place and she could have gone on here ... the mistress of
Klocksburg."

"Except when the owner called with his wife."

"She should have had more sense.  He was fond' of her or he wouldn't
have brought her here.  He would have protected her.  But she had to go
and jump down there ... to her end."

I said: "Is she in the Island of Graves?"

"She'd be there.  There is one grave.  It just says one name on the
tombstone: " Gerda.  " They say that's the one.  What a silly girl!  It
need never have been.  It's a lesson to girls, though."

"To make sure they can trust their lovers."

She smiled her fat comfortable smile and gave me a little nudge in the
ribs.

"To accept what's what, and make the best of it.  If a count loves you
enough to set you up in a castle, shouldn't that satisfy you?"

I said: "It didn't satisfy her."

"Some have had more sense," she said.

I turned away from the window.  I wanted to stop thinking of that girl
who had discovered her lover to have tricked her.  I understood too
well how she must have felt.

Frau Graben understood my feelings.

"Silly girl," she insisted once more.

"Don't go on feeling too sorry for her.  You'd have had more sense in
her place, I know."  Again that sly smile.

"It is a pleasant room.  So you'd like it left unlocked and you'll come
up here now and then.  I think you're right.  Yes, it's a good
notion."

The room fascinated me.  I was soon feeling an urge to go there
alone.

I must admit that on the first occasion I went, I had to fight a
lurking reluctance, but once I was there I experienced a certain
excitement.  It was a delightful room, perhaps the most attractive in
the fortress.  Even the view seemed more magnificent seen from these
windows.  I opened the one from which Gerda was alleged to have thrown
herself.  It opened with a little squeaking protest.  It needs oiling,
I thought, forcing myself to be practical.

How grand the ducal castle looked, a mighty impregnable fortress
guarding the town.  After frequent conversations with the boys who had
on a very special occasion been allowed to visit the castle.  I could
make out the features which they had described.  I could see the walls
with their flanking turrets and the gate-tower fortress.  There it
stood, dating back in some parts to the eleventh century, guarding the
town, ready to defend itself from marauders.  What an uneasy life
people must have led in those days when their greatest concern was to
defend themselves.  The boys had described the grandeur of the
Rittersaal and the tapestries which adorned the walls;

there were gardens with fountains and statues which their father had
told them were like those of Versailles, for it had been the desire of
every German princeling to follow the example of the great Sun King
and, in his little domain, to see himself as the mighty French
monarch.

I reminded the boys what had become of the monarchy of France.

Dagobert replied: "Oh yes, old Kratz told us all about that."

Looking out across the sweep of the valley to the town and then up
again to the royal castle, I could make out the outhouses of the
Randhausburg where I presumed many of the outdoor servants lived; and
there were the barracks too.  Across the valley would come the trumpet
call to wake them in the morning; I often heard it soon after dawn, and
sometimes when the wind was in the right direction I would hear the
band playing in the ducal gardens.

But as I sat in the room I wondered about the girl who had been so
unhappy that she had decided to end her life.  I imagined her
beautiful, with long flaxen hair, like a girl in the fairy-tale
picture-book my mother had brought with her from her home.  I thought
of her sitting at this window awaiting the arrival of her lover and
then seeing that other woman -the wife, when she herself had believed
herself to be married to him.

The despair, the wretchedness, the horror would have been overwhelming.
I imagined her to have been strictly brought up.  She would have
believed herself to be dishonoured and see the only way out of her
wretchedness was to end her life.

Sad Gerda!  Perhaps when anyone was as unhappy as she must have been,
he or she left behind them some aura of the past.  Was that what people
meant by haunting?

What nonsense!  It could well have been only a legend.

Perhaps the girl fell from the window by accident.  People like to put
dramatic constructions on perfectly ordinary events.

I decided that I would exorcize the ghost by making this a normal room
so that in a short time no one would consider it any different except
perhaps more beautiful than any other room in Klocksburg.

The next day I brought the children up and gave them a lesson there.

At first they were overawed but when they saw that it was just like an
ordinary room Dagobert and Liesel forgot about the ghost.  Fritz, I
noticed, kept looking over his shoulder and didn't like to move too far
from my side.  He was the sensitive one.

I took them to the windows and pointed out the various landmarks,
giving them their English names.  This was always a good Way of getting
them to learn and I really was becoming quite pleased with their
progress.  Fritz was by far the best, which pleased me because I
thought it would give him the confidence he needed.  Liesel was quite a
fair mimic and although she couldn't always remember words her
pronunciation was good.  Dagobert lagged a little but there again I
decided that would do him no harm; he really was a little braggart.

When I was alone with Fritz and we were in the school room I said to
him: "Fritz, there's nothing to be afraid of in the turret-room."

A puzzled frown appeared between his eyes.  He said: "A lady jumped out
of the window."

"That's just a story."

"You mean it never happened?"

"It might have done but we can't be sure."

He shook his head.

"A lady did jump," he said.  He looked at me as though wondering
whether he could trust me.

"Yes, Fritz," I said tenderly.

"I think it was my mother."

"No, Fritz.  If it did happen, it happened long ago.  It couldn't
possibly have been your mother."

"She died," he said.

"Unfortunately some people do die young : .. but never mind, you have
Frau Graben, you have your father and now you have me."

I felt very moved because he gripped my hand rather tightly and nodded.
I was touched to think that already I meant something to him.

There's nothing to be afraid of," I said.

"It's only a story, you know.  It may well not be true and if it is, it
happened years and years ago."

I had an idea that although he was comforted by my presence he didn't
really believe that.

FOUR

Dagobert's eyes gleamed with excitement.

"There's going- to be a stag hunt," he told me.

"We're to go.  It's exciting.  Bang.  Bang."

"You're to go to hunt stag?

This is a special one.  My father will be there.  "

I turned to Fritz.

"Are you going?"

Fritz didn't answer and Dagobert shouted: "Of course he's going.

Liesel isn't.  She's too little.  "

Liesel set up a wail.

"She can go in my place," said Fritz.

"She can't," cried Dagobert.

"Because you're frightened, that doesn't make her old enough."

"I'm- not frightened," said Fritz.

"You are!"

Tmnot!  "

"You are, you are, you are, you are!"  Dagobert was dancing round Fritz
like some irritating dervish.  Fritz hit out at him.

"Please stop," I said.

"It is most impolite to fight in front of your English teacher."

Dagobert paused and said: "Would it be impolite to fight behind your
back.  Miss?"

"You are being a little impertinent, Dagobert," I said, 'which is
equally impolite.  Now stop being foolish.  Where is this stag hunt to
be held?  "

"In the forest where the stags are."

"In the Klocksburg forest."

"No, in the ducal forest."

"Do you mean to say that you boys are going to join the hunt?"

Dagobert tittered, and Fritz said: "It's a different sort of hunt,
Miss.  They are all together, lots of them, and they come

in and they're shot dead and .  * "Bang, bang, bang!"  said
Dagobert.

I could see that I could not get from them what I wanted to hear so I
went along to Frau Graben.

She was seated in an armchair holding a basin in her hand;

she smiled at me when I entered.  On the table beside her was a piece
of spiced cake such as I had discovered she loved and which she kept in
a tin in the cupboard in this room, with various other food to take out
at odd moments.  She rarely sat down to a meal, I had discovered, but
was nibbling tit bits throughout the day.

She set down the basin as I entered and I couldn't help seeing what was
in it.  Not the soup I had expected but two spiders.  She saw my
astonishment and gave her fat comfort able laugh.

"I like to put them in together and see what they do," she said.

"They're scouting round at the moment.  Don't know what to make of
it.

There they are in this strange white world.  They'll fight, I shouldn't
wonder.  One will kill the other.  "

"But why ..."  I said.

"I like to see what they'll do.  You put them together, you see how
they take it.  Spiders are interesting.  The way they weave their webs
beautiful things, webs.  One day I saw a fight between a great
bumblebee and a big spider."  Her eyes gleamed with excitement.

"The bee was caught in the web and you should have seen that spider get
to work; he wrapped up the bee in his sticky thread but the bee was too
strong and the web wouldn't hold him.  He tore himself away and flew
off clutching the spider.  I often wonder what happened to them.  It's
like people.  You put them down somewhere with some one else and you
see what happens.  But I'm being a silly old woman.  I'm afraid I'm
often that.  Now you're a nice kind young lady and you're going to say
I'm not, but you don't know me, dear, do you?  And you are a bit
surprised at my spiders, aren't you?  Never mind."  She smiled
comfortably.

"You see, dear Miss Trant, I'm so interested in everybody , .. yes,
everybody ... even the spiders."

I said: "The boys say they are going stag-hunting, is that true?"

"It's a form of hunt.  You'll see, because you're to go with them."

7 go to a hunt .  / It's not chasing the stag.  You'll see what it is.
The count wants the boys to go.  It's tomorrow.  It's the shooting
festival.  It's a pity the Prince won't be home for it.  He always
enjoyed the Schiitzenfest.  "

"What shall I be expected to do?"

"Nothing.  You'll just be there to look after the boys.  You'll love
the procession.  It's pretty.  We're very fond of these occasions
here."

"So it isn't chasing after the stag?"

"There's no chasing.  Those boys will tell their tales."

She was smiling her simple happy smile, which was meant to assure me
that everything was well.

The next morning we set out for the shooting festival.  I could get
little sense out of the boys.  Dagobert was too excited and kept
running around shouting bang and killing, I supposed, imaginary
stags.

Fritz was silent, a little apprehensive.

As we were not coming home for food Frau Graben had told us we must
stop at one of the inns in the town where we were to leave our
horses.

Here the very pretty innkeeper's daughter served us with a sort of
cider ale, a long cool drink, and what was called a Schinkenbrot, which
was several slices of boiled bacon on thickish brown bread and
butter.

As we were eating crowds began to fill the Oberer Stadtplatz; wagons
decorated with flowers trundled in from the surrounding country and in
them sat the girls in their black skirts and yellow satin aprons.  The
men walked beside the wagons, dressed in various colourful costumes,
reds, blues, blacks and yellows, calling to the girls as they walked.

Some were on horseback; there were fiddlers to provide music, and some
were singing.

Dagobert said that we were to go to the Schiltzenhaus without delay
because we must be there before the procession came in.  There was a
special place which his father had said was to be kept for us.

Dagobert led the way and we came to a building near the town hall.  As
we entered a man in uniform approached us; he evidently knew the boys
because he led us to seats near a platform, where we sat down.

We could hear the sounds of the band and singing as the procession was
coming nearer.  Dagobert kept looking at me to see how impressed I
was.

Now the hall began to fill with people.  Tall men each carrying a rifle
were then led in by n. o. s. m. 161 f

a man in a green doublet.  Dagobert whispered to me that he was the
Schutzenkonig.  He was elected each year for his skill with his rifle
and for the whole year he was king; and the medals he wore on his green
doublet were given to him by the kings of other years.  Into the hall
began to file representatives from the surrounding villages, all come
to see the shooting contest.  Although the men and women in their
colourful costumes kept crowding in, the centre of the hall and the
space at one end opposite the dais were kept clear.  In this space was
a pole on which what appeared to be a bird was set up.

Fritz whispered that it was not a real bird; it was made of wood and
the feathers had been stuck on.  There was a new bird every year for
the Schiltzenfest.

Now there was a great fanfare of trumpets because the ducal party was
about to arrive.  I was very excited.  I should see the Count, the
children's father, who, through them, had, become a legendary figure to
me.  I noticed the effect the sound of the trumpets had on them.

They sat in awed silence beside me.

Then a door which I had not noticed before was flung open.  Two heralds
came in-boys of about fourteen in the blue and gold which I knew to be
the colours of the ducal livery.  As they blew a fanfare on their
trumpets all the people in the hall rose to their feet.  The Duke
entered.  I recognized him at once as the man whose picture I had seen
all those years ago.  Even the cloak about him was the same as in the
picture.  It was of blue velvet lined with miniver.  Immediately behind
him were a man and two women.  I felt my heart begin to hammer; the
room swung round me, and for a moment I was afraid that I would
faint.

I had thought in that moment that I had found Maximilian.  The man was
like him .  the same height, the same build.  But it was not he.  I had
been mistaken.  I had known him so well during those three days that
every detail of his face was familiar to me, engraved on my memory for
ever.  I should never, never forget .  nor could I mistake anyone else
for him for more than a second or two.  What I had seen was only a
resemblance.  But it was undoubtedly there.  And one of the women who
was with him reminded me of Ilse, though as I looked closer I saw that
the similarity was by no means as marked as that between the Count and
Maximilian.

This was like one of my dreams, I was going to wake up in a moment.
The hall had suddenly become unbearably hot but I was shivering; I felt
Fritz gripping my hand.  I returned the pressure and took comfort.  I
was not dreaming.

I looked at the boys; their eyes were fixed on the man whom I had
momentarily mistaken for Maximilian.  I had realized at once that he
was the Duke's nephew and their father.

I thought then: I'm just imagining this.  There is a slight resemblance
nothing more, and because above all things I want to see Maximilian
again, I see him in this man because he has the same haughty demeanour
and is of similar height and build.

The ducal group had taken their seats on the dais.  I kept staring at
the Count.  Now I could see the differences; he was a little darker
than Maximilian; his complexion was more ruddy; his expression was
different; there was a touch of cruelty in his expression which I had
never seen in Maximilian's.  Had it been there, though?  And had I
refused to see it?  This man had not the humorous expression which I
had found so charming in Maximilian.  His nose was longer; his mouth
thinner.  No, there was a strong resemblance but it was growing less
the more I saw of him.  And the woman who was with him-faintly like
Ilse, yes, but that was all.

Dagobert gave me a fleeting look.  I knew he wanted me to admire his
father.  I whispered: "Who is the lady now sitting beside the Duke?"

"The Prince's wife.  Princess Wilhelmina."

"Where is the Prince?"

"He is not here.  My father's his cousin and he's taking his place
while he is away."

I nodded.

The ceremony started, the object being to find the best shot of the
year.  The Schiitzenkonig of last year led the competitors in and
presented them to the duke; they then began to shoot at the wooden
bird, the object being to bring it off the perch.

The shots rang out as one by one of the attempts were made.  Only two
of the contestants succeeded in bringing it off its perch and loud
applause followed these efforts; then the two had to undergo a further
test and the bird was replaced.  In a short time one of them was proved
the victor and proclaimed the Schiltzenkonig for the next year.  Up on
the dais the Family congratulated him and the Schiltzenfest was over,
but

this was apparently only the beginning of the entertainment.  The best
was yet to come, Dagobert told me.  The ducal party left the hall.  As
they came near us the Count looked in the boys' direction and his
glance swept over me in a manner which disturbed me and aroused my
indignation.  I was in a strange mood.  For a few moments I had
believed I had found that which I now knew I had come a long way to
seek, and a bitter frustration swept over me.  Perhaps that was why I
felt this indignation and imagined that there was something insulting
about the manner in which he gave me that cursory glance.

"We're going out into the forest now for the real hunt," said
Dagobert.

"I don't feel well," said Fritz.

I looked at him anxiously.

"Perhaps, we had better all go home."

"No!"  cried Dagobert.

"Our father would be angry.  You daren't, Fritz.

You know it.  "

"Yes," agreed Fritz.

"I do."

"If you are not well we should go back to Klocksburg," I, said.

"I

will go with you and take the responsibility.  "

"I won't go," said Dagobert.

"I won't go either," said Fritz.

But I could see that he wanted to.

We went to the inn where the horses had been watered and then set out
from there.  Many people were making their way into the forest.  About
half a mile in we came to a spot where a crowd had gathered and our
horses were taken from us by one of the foresters.  The boys seemed to
be well known and the crowds parted to let us go through.  Then I saw
what looked like a large tent.  There were four sides of canvas round
an enclosed space which was open to the sky and as we approached a man
who seemed to be standing on guard lifted a flap in the canvas and we
went inside the enclosure.  In the centre of this was a kind of
pavilion which was beautifully decorated with flowers and leaves; some
of these were made into garlands and wreaths and the effect was
delightful.

There were seats in the pavilion and we were assigned to three of
these.

"What is going to happen?"  I whispered.

Dagobert put his fingers to his lips but I saw that Fritz had grown
pale.  I knew that something was about to take place which he knew
would upset him.

I turned to speak to him but as I did so I heard the fanfare again and
now others were coming into the enclosure.  The Duke was not with them
this time but the boys' father and the two women-one of whom had
reminded me of Ilse- were there.  They led the party.  Again I received
that quick appraising look and instinctively I knew that that was the
manner in which he looked at every woman.  I thought of the mothers of
these two boys and little Liesel who had most certainly been assessed
in the same way, and instinctively I disliked this man who had dared
raise my hopes and filled me with great joy, only to let me discover
that he was not the man I sought.

Fritz had moved a little nearer to me.  I reached for his hand and
pressed it.  Dagobert's shining eyes were fixed on his father.  All the
seats in the pavilion were now occupied and the Count clapped his
hands.  Everyone stood up and I saw that they all had guns in their
hands.  Some of them standing near the canvas then let out
bloodcurdling cries; the flap was lifted and numbers of stags and hinds
dashed into the enclosure.  I heard the rifles crack and I saw the
beautiful t-nimals stretched out on the grass; I could not bear to
look.  I glanced at Fritz whose eyes were tightly shut; he was swaying
slightly.

I heard my own voice then.  I was unaware that I had spoken.

"It's horrible-butchery!"

I took Fritz by the hand and, drawing aside the canvas, I dragged him
away from the scene of the slaughter.

I had forgotten Dagobert.  My one thought was to look after Fritz whose
feelings were mine.  I had rarely been so shaken in my life as when I
saw those innocent beautiful creatures run forward to their deaths.

I found our horses.  The man who was guarding them looked at me
strangely.

I said: "We are going back to Klocksburg.  Will you go and tell Master
Dagobert to come to us at once."

Fritz was visibly trembling as he mounted his pony, I hope I managed to
hide that I was similarly disturbed.  In a very short time one of the
foresters came out with Dagobert.  The boy looked stunned.  As we rode
away he said: "My father is very angry."

I hope I did not show my dismay.  I was well aware that both boys were
watching me closely-Fritz as a kind of

deliverer but one in whose powers he had little confidence;

Dagobert as a stranger who had behaved in a reckless manner through
ignorance rather than courage.

The journey back to Klocksburg was made in almost complete silence
after that.

When we arrived I went straight to my room and it was not long before
Frau Graben was knocking at my door.

"You left the pavilion!  But nobody leaves the pavilion before the
Family party!"

We did," I said.

In spite of the fact that she thought I had done something which might
be unforgivable she could not hide her secret amusement.  Her
expression was like that I had surprised when she was watching the
spiders in the basin.

"It's a mercy the Duke was not there."

"That would have been lese-majeste, 1 suppose."

"That would have been a very serious matter."

"And what would have happened to me?  Should I have been put before a
shooting squad?"

She smiled.

"I don't know what will come of this," she said.

"We'll have to see.  I heard from Dagobert that his father looked like
thunder.  I used to call my two when they were little, Donner and
Blitzen.  I never saw such rages as young Fredy could fall into.  Talk
about thunder!  And the Prince, he was like lightning ... into
everything ... wildly enthusiastic and all for it one minute and tiring
quickly.  Yes, Donner and Blitzen was my name for them."

"I suppose I shall be asked to leave."

"We'll see," she said.

Then she began to talk about her two charges, the cousins -the Count
and the Prince.  There never had been such children, according to
her.

The mischief!  It was one body's work just to get them out of that.  I
gathered that the Prince was her favourite.  Little Lightning was
slightly more lovable than young Thunder.

But I was not really paying attention; I was wondering what was going
to happen.  It was almost certain that I should be asked to pack and
leave.  The count would certainly not want someone who had shown him
such disrespect to himself to teach his children.

I went up to the turret-room.  Somehow it seemed to offer me a little
solace.  I looked across the valley down on the town where we had seen
the Schiltz.  en fest that afternoon and beyond to the forest where
that nauseating slaughter had taken place, and terrible depression
swept over me.  If I left here now I would never know the answer I had
come to seek.  The manner in which Frau Graben had come into the shop
and my arrival here had seemed to me like a pattern; it reminded me of
the manner in which Ilse had appeared.  There was something uncanny
about it.  It was like one of the fantastic adventures in which the
gods and heroes of the forest indulged.  I had changed since I had been
here.  I was growing more and more like that light-hearted girl who had
wandered into the mist and I had felt certain that I was going to
unravel the mystery and make the discovery which was necessary to my
peace of mind. And if I were sent away that would be the end.

Perhaps I could go to the Damenstift .  offer myself as a teacher of
English as I had thought of doing once before.  But I wanted to stay
here; I was growing fond of the children, particularly Fritz.  The
restricted life in a convent was not appealing; its only virtue would
be that I was here near that enchanted forest where once long ago I had
walked into a dream .  or was it reality?

I spent a sleepless night and the next morning when I was in the
turret-room with the children, while we were at the window practising
English vocabulary, we saw a little cavalcade of riders; they were
coming up the mountain road which led to Klocksburg.

Dagobert shouted: "It's my father."

My spirits sank.  He had wasted little time.

I said the boys should go to their rooms to wash their hands and
prepare to receive him.  I went to mine to prepare myself for the
worst.

I was summoned down to the Rittersaal.  I left the fortress, crossed
the courtyard and entered the Randhausburg.  My knees were trembling
but I held my head high and I knew there was an unusual colour in my
cheeks. I hope I did not show how agitated I was.  I tried to calm
myself.  I was telling myself: You will be dismissed, but if they don't
want you, you could stay on for a while living humbly perhaps in some
mountain inn and then perhaps teach at the Damenstift.

He was seated there alone and rose when I entered.  He bowed from the
waist as the boys did, clicking his heels as he did so.  He looked
magnificent in the uniform of the Duke's

guards.  I felt like a drab little wren beside a peacock.

"Miss er ..."  he began.

Trant," I supplied.

"Miss Trant, we met for the first time yesterday."

His English was good, there was only the faintest trace of accent.  His
voice unnerved me; it was very like Maximilian's.

"You are here to teach my children English," he went on.

"That is so."

"They do not appear to have made much progress."

"On the contrary I would say that they are making excel lent
progress.

They only had a word or two of the language when I arrived, their
education in that direction having been entirely neglected.  "

I was bold.  I felt I had nothing to lose.  He had determined to be rid
of me; and because I found his bold glance I offensive I could not
prevent my voice taking on a firmness which I knew he would think of as
insolent.

He sat down at the refectory table on which pewter utensils stood.

"You may sit," he said.

I did so because although I resented the manner in which he gave me
permission to do so, I could see that I should be at a disadvantage if
I remained standing.

"So you found the children ignorant?"  he said.

"As regards English, certainly."

"And since you have come they have made such rapid progress in this
that when I asked them to tell me in English what they had thought of
yesterday's performance they were completely tongue-tied."

"That might well be beyond their powers at present."

"It was not beyond your powers to let us know what you thought."

"I suppose I gave a good indication."

"You left us in no doubt that you considered us a country of
barbarians."

He waited for my reply but I made none.  He insisted, That was so?  "

"I found the spectacle revolting."

Indeed?  "

"Is it so surprising?"

"Ah, English susceptibilities!  Your Queen was equally un impressed ...
or perhaps impressed.  I was present when she was entertained over
here.  Her remarks were identical.

"Butchery she said."

"Then I was in noble company."

You do not seem to set much store by that.  You were in noble company
yesterday but you behaved in an exceedingly discourteous manner.  If it
were not for the fact that you are a foreigner and can plead ignorance,
it might be necessary to reprimand you very severely.  "

"I realize that I have committed a breach of etiquette and for that I
apologize."

"That is indeed gracious."

"Had I known what I was expected to witness I should not have come."

"You were commanded to come."

"Still I should have declined."

"Those who serve us do not decline to obey commands."

"I suppose not, and there is only one thing to do if one finds such
commands unacceptable, which is to resign from the service."

"Is that what you are doing, Miss Trant?"

"If it is your wish that I should do so, I have no alternative."

"There is an alternative.  You could plead to be forgiven.  I might say
you are a stranger, ignorant of our etiquette.  Apologies could be made
to the Princess, the Countess and other members of the court.  On
grounds of ignorance you might be forgiven, providing of course that
you promise not to offend again."

"I could not give such a promise.  If I were asked to witness that
sickening spectacle once more I should be obliged to refuse."

"On your own behalf, perhaps.  But you carried my sons with you.  Do
you imagine that I can allow you to inst il into them ideas that are
detrimental to their manhood?"

I had visions of his forcing Fritz to witness such scenes, of trying,
as he would say, to 'make a man of him'.  No wonder the poor child was
nervous; no wonder he walked in his sleep.  I was ready to fight for
Fritz as I had not been to fight for myself.

I said earnestly: "Fritz is a sensitive boy."

"Why?"  he cried.

"Because he has been brought up by women?"

"Because he has a highly-strung nature."

"My dear Miss Trant, I have no patience with highly-strung natures.  I
want to make a man of the boy."

"Is it manly to gloat over the slaughter of beautiful animals?"  ;

"What strange ideas you have!  I think perhaps you might do;| very well
in a select academy for young ladies."

"Perhaps," I said.

"And you are telling me that I am dismissed?  If that is so, I will
make my preparations to leave at once."

He stood up and came to my chair.  He sat on the table very close to
me.

"You are of a hasty nature.  Miss Trant.  I do not think impetuous
people make good teachers."

"Very well.  I will go."

"But / have no personal objection to that characteristic."

"I am glad I do not displease you in all respects."

"It is not you who displease me.  Miss Trant.  It is your action
yesterday."

I half rose.  His great virility alarmed me at such close quarters.  He
was so like Maximilian and yet there was the subtle difference.  Had I
been with him that night in the hunting lodge I would never have been
allowed to remain alone on the other side of that locked door.  That
was something I knew instinctively.

"I see that I have offended you," I said quickly.

"There is no need to continue this interview.  I will go."

"You make a custom of taking your leave unexpectedly.  It is my custom
to give permission for those whom I employ to come or go."

"I presume I am no longer in your employ so that does not apply to
me."

I turned away but he was beside me.  I could feel his warm breath on my
neck.  He caught my forearm in a tight grip.

"You will stay," he said.  Then he smiled, his eyes slightly veiled as
they swept over me.

"I have decided that you shall have another chance," he went on.

I faced him boldly.

"I warn you that in similar circumstances I should act in the same
way."

We'll see," he said.

I took his hand from my arm and dropped it hastily; he was so surprised
that he made no effort to check me.

I said: "Whenever you wish me to leave your employ, please say so."

And with that I walked out of the Rittersaal.  I crossed the courtyard
and entered the fortress.  I was trembling but I felt

elated as though I had won a battle, which perhaps in a way I bad,
because at least I was still employed at Klocksburg.

I sat by my window letting the air cool my cheeks.  The encounter had
shaken me because the bold message in the Count's eyes had told me he
had marked me down for a victim.  I was experienced enough to recognize
his intentions.  I was surprised.  I had ceased to think of myself as
an attractive woman.  I knew I had been in my teens, with my somewhat
inconsequential high spirits, my masses of dark hair and perhaps most
of all my vivacious expression.  But when I had believed myself to be
married and had borne a child (at least I could be sure of that) and
lost it, I had changed.  I knew the change was remarkable because Mrs.
Greville and Aunt Matilda often said to me: "I've never seen anyone
change as you did when you came back from that long stay abroad."

My gaiety had been overshadowed; the tremendous doubt was there.  I had
loved and lost my husband and my child;

and who could be the same after such an experience?

Anthony, it was true, had asked me to marry him.  I realized I had
scarcely thought of him since I had left England.  He had written
twice-letters full of details about the parish and his work.  I should
have been interested a short while ago, but I had found my attention
wandering even while I had been reading them.

Ever since I had come to Klocksburg I had felt an excitement that I had
not known since I had awakened in my bed to be told that my marriage
had been a dream, the result of Dr.  Carlsberg's treatment.

There was a firm belief within me that if ever I was to find the
solution to my mystery I should find it here.  For a second when I had
seen the Count I had believed I had found it.  But that was a
delusion;

and now this very count was becoming an obstacle in my way.

I could guess what would happen.  I was woman of the world enough to
grasp the type of man he was; and because he was powerful in his little
world he would have encountered little opposition and at first he would
be attracted by it, but only for a while.  It would soon begin to pall.
Perhaps I should begin making enquiries at the Damenstift.

As I brooded I heard voices below, for one could hear very distinctly
in that clear mountain air.

"Now, Master Fredy, you'll behave yourself.  I'll not allow

any of your games.  " That was Frau Graben, the lilt of laughter in
her voice; I could imagine the fat comfortable smile.

"What was the meaning of this, eh, old woman?  Why did you bring her
here?"  The Count!  The arrogant powerful man allowing Frau Graben to
address him in that way.  But of course the old nurse had special
privileges.

"It was about time those bastards of yours were given a bit of
education."

"They had it.  We didn't need an English prude to give them that."

"Not so prudish.  Master Fredy.  I'll promise you."

"And who are you to make promises to me?"

"You remember your manners, Master Fredy.  I was always telling you."

"Good God, woman, I'm not in the nursery now."

"You'll always be in the nursery as far as I'm concerned and that goes
for your high and mighty cousin too."

"He was always your favourite."

"You get along with you.  I had no favourites.  You were both my boys
and I wouldn't let you give me your sauce then and I won't now."

"I should have had you turned out of Klocksburg long ago."

"Then who'll look after your bastards?"

"Why, you old witch, there are hundreds who'd like the opportunity."

"But you trust your old Nana, eh?"

"No farther than the end of the Randhausburg."

"Listen to me.  Master Fredy, you turn your gaze away from Miss
Trant."

"You brought her here."

"Not for your amusement."

"I'll decide where and when I'm going to be amused."

"Not here, master."

"Who's to stop me?  You?"

"No.  She will though.  She's not for you."

"Who said I was interested?"

"You were always interested in a fresh face-both of you.  Don't I know
you?  Old Nana likes you to enjoy yourselves, but not Miss Trant,
Master F're dy.  She's in my care.  So you give your thoughts to that
little innkeeper's daughter I've been hearing about."

"Trust you to hear everything."

She gave a high-pitched giggle.

He said: "Don't you dare try to dictate to me, you mischievous old
woman."

They went inside the Randhausburg and I heard no more.  I was indignant
that I should be discussed in this way.  I had already a notion of the
count's intentions which were, after all, only the same as he would
have towards any woman- but what astonished me was the familiar manner
in which Frau Graben addressed him and the inference that the decision
to bring me out here to teach the boys English had come from her.

When the Count had left I went to the Randhausburg and knocked at Frau
Graben's door.  The air of excitement lingered about her; she looked as
though she had just come from a highly diverting entertainment, the
memory of which remained with her.

"Come in, my dear," she said.

She was seated on her rocking-chair nibbling a piece of spiced cake.

Sit down.  Would you like some tea?  "

It was as though she were placating me.  Tea!  The English could always
be pacified with it I "No, thank you."

"I know.  A glass of wine.  I had some sent to me from the Moselle
valley.  It's good stuff."

"No refreshment, thank you.  I really wanted to talk to you
seriously."

"Oh, you're too serious.  Miss Trant* " A woman on her own has to be.
"

"You're not on your own.  You've got that nice aunt of yours and the
bookshop people and what about the reverend gentleman."

She looked slyly knowledgeable.  I was beginning to think that she knew
more about me than I had imagined.  But of course she had stayed in
Oxford; while she was there she would have fallen into conversation
with the shop people, and people at her hotel, anyone who might know
something about me.  But how could she?  She spoke very little
English.

I said: "How did you know ...?"

"One picks up these things.  You must have told me during some of our
little chats."

I said: "Did you decide that it would be a good idea for me to come
over and teach the children?  I mean, was it

entirely your idea?  "

There'd been talk.  And when I was in England I thought you were just
the one.  " She leaned towards me, nibbling.

"I took a fancy to you.  I didn't want to lose you.  I wanted you to be
here.  After all, we got on famously didn't we ... from the moment we
met."

Those powerful men whose nurse she had been must clearly be fond of
her, otherwise they would not allow her such power.  I remembered the
manner in which she had spoken to the haughty Count; and now it seemed
she had the power to bring an English teacher into his household
without consulting him.

There was evidently a softer side to the Count's nature since he was so
affectionate towards his old nurse.

"So you are allowed to add to the household if you wish?"

T was a mother to them.  There's not always the time or inclination in
people like them to look after their children.  Those that are nurses
to them are like their mothers.  We're a sentimental race, you know.

Those who have been mothers to us mean a great deal to us.  "

I was surprised.  I had always known that I owed my presence here to
Frau Graben but I did not think it was so completely so as it evidently
was.

"Don't you worry," she said to me.

"I'm going to look after you."

The words were comforting; but there was that glint in her
eyes-something of the amusement and speculation which I had seen there
when she was watching the spiders.

The Count lost no time in coming to Klocksburg.  We were in the
turret-room where I had made a habit of taking the children .  not for
the written exercises I gave them, but for our conversations.  I would
make them tell me about the ducal palace and then I would translate it
into English.  As they were greatly interested in the palace and
everything that went on there, this meant that I had their full
attention.

He came in and the children all rose to their feet-the boys bowing,
Liesel dropping a pretty curtsey.  He waved a hand indicating that he
preferred them to be seated.

"Please continue.  Miss Trant," he said.

"I want to see how the lesson progresses."

I was determined not to let him see how his presence disturbed me if I
could help it.

"Now," I said, 'there is the Watching Tower.  Fritz, will you please
say that in English?  "

He stammered a little but I was not displeased with the result.

Then I asked Dagobert in English to point out the barracks and tell me
who lived there.  He was particularly interested in the soldiers, so I
felt safe there.

I asked Liesel to show me the big bell and tell me when it was rung.

They stammered through and I continued with the lesson, but I can
hardly say that the children were at their best.  Dagobert was soon
trying to show off; Fritz grew nervous and Liesel was a little silly.

The Count sat smiling superciliously.  I could see that he was not
impressed by the performance.

"You'll have to do better than that," he said, 'if you want to be
presented to Her Majesty Queen Victoria when she deigns to pay us
another visit.  "

Dagobert said: "Is she coming again, sir?"

"Oh come, come.  She was with us a few years ago.  You must not expect
too much from such mighty folk.  I have no doubt that Miss Trant has
told you that her country is the greatest in the world and we are just
a poor little state in comparison."

Dagobert stared open-mouthed at me and Fritz stammered: "M ... Miss T
Trant didn't tell us that.  She ... she likes our country."

I was touched.  It was an effort to protect me.

I said sharply: "I have not come to teach politics, Hen- Count.  I have
come to teach English."

"With the natural assumption that the whole world recognizes without
any prompting from its subjects the superiority of Britain."

"You pay us a great compliment," I said.

"I believe it was said you did the same to us when you allowed your
queen to take a husband from one of our houses."

"It linked our countries," I said.

"And so great benefits were conferred."

"Perhaps on both sides."

"You are determined to be gracious."

"It makes social life so much more comfortable."

"Even when one does not say exactly what one means?"

"I try to say what I mean."

"And only prevaricate for expediency.  I believe that is a good old
English custom."

"It's frequently considered to be a diplomatic one, I believe."

I looked at my watch.

"Pastor Kratz will be waiting for you," I said to the children.  They
were surprised.  I realized then that until the Count dismissed them we
were supposed to remain where we were and Pastor Kratz could wait all
morning if necessary.

I rose.  To my surprise, so did the count.

"You speak German better than you teach English," he said.

"It is unwise to judge on such slight evidence," I retorted.

"My German could be better and I believe that in a few weeks your
children will have quite a smattering of English."

I took Liesel by the hand and led her to the door.  The Count followed,
so the boys came on behind.

We reached the schoolroom where Pastor Kratz was waiting.  I went in to
have a word with him and the Count sent the children in after me.

When I came out he had gone.

Encounters with him disturbed me.  He was determined to be critical and
yet at the same time he was interested in me.  Our badinage amused
him.

I had always been able to hold my own in such conversations and when I
was stimulated I felt these powers increase.  I enjoyed my verbal
battles.  I had even enjoyed that one this morning, for I did not think
I had come too badly out of it.

I knew what was going to happen.  He was attracted by me.  I must seem
different from the women he would meet.  I was a foreigner for one
thing; he wanted to subdue me partly on this account.  He had evidently
been impressed by the dignity of our queen when she visited
Saxe-Coburg, Meiningen and the surrounding states-and who would not be?
Never had such a tiny person been able to display such regality.

On the occasions when I had seen her I had been impressed by it-not
that I had seen her often, for since the death of the Prince Consort
she had shut herself away and had rarely been seen by her subjects.  I
knew, though, that she had visited Germany after his death; and I could
imagine the effect that unconscious royal dignity would have on a man
like the Count.  Moreover, she was a great Queen, with a growing
empire; and he was the nephew of the Duke of an insignificant state.

How he would have revelled in her position!  He would not see that it
was natural acceptance of her royalty which gave her such presence.

How did I know so much about him?  But he was easy to read.  And this I
knew: He was planning to seduce me.  He betrayed that completely.  He
was ready to dally a little, but it would only be for a little while.

He would enjoy being repulsed at first, but not for long.  I thought of
those beautiful deer; the destruction of the fleetest and most
difficult to ensnare would provide the greatest enjoyment.  But he
would soon tire of the chase.  And then he would be angry.  He would
find fault with me.  I should be dismissed.  This had happened to a
friend of mine one of the girls who had been with me at the Damenstift.
She was exceptionally pretty and without means.  She had become a
governess.  The master of the house had pursued her and when she had
repulsed him at first he had been intrigued; but very soon she was
looking for another post and had only a very indifferent testimonial to
help her.

Life had become very uneasy since the appearance of the Count.

In the Randhausburg there was a garden.  It was rather beautiful, shut
in by stubby firs and containing a lawn with a fountain and seats
painted white.  Here the children practised their shooting and archery
once a week.  At one side was a sheer drop from the plateau, but the
hedge of bushy firs made it safe for even little Liesel to wander in
alone.  It was a favourite spot of mine and I often went there.  So
this morning I took some books intending to work out my next lesson,
but I suppose really to brood on my situation and to wonder whether I
should begin making enquiries about a position at the Damenstift.

I was sitting with my back to the little gate which had been set up in
the hedge of firs when I heard the latch click.  Instinctively I knew
who it was.

"Why, Miss Trant."

He pretended to be surprised but I knew that he had seen me come
here.

"Have you any objection to my sitting beside you?"  he asked, with an
irony which I pretended to ignore.

"Please sit here if you wish."

"This is a pleasant garden," he went on.

"Very pleasant."

"I am glad you find it so.  And what do you think of our

little Klocksburg?  "

"I would hardly describe it as little."

oh, but not to be compared with Windsor Castle, Buckingham Palace, and
is it Sandringham?  "

"There is such a palace and one could not really compare Klocksburg
with them.  They are quite dissimilar."

"And much more grand, eh?"

"I find it difficult to make these comparisons.  Personally I have in a
small house next to a bookshop.  I can assure you that is not in the
least like Klocksburg either."

"A small house next to a bookshop," he said.

"But a very superior small house next to a very superior bookshop, I
dare say."

*I found it pleasant because it was my home.  It is a good bookshop,
too.  "

"Do you think longingly of your home.  Miss Trant?"

"Not yet.  Perhaps I have not been away long enough."

"I fancy you have a fondness for our mountains."  I assured him that I
had.

The conversation was running too smoothly.  He said: "I was interested
to see that you had decided to throw open our haunted room."

"I thought it wiser to open it than keep it shut.  Frau Graben agreed
with me."

"It has been locked for several years, but you sweep away our
traditions with an imperious wave of your English hand."

"I must explain about the locked room."

"I look forward to your explanations.

Miss Trant.  " The room was kept locked," I said.

"Therefore it was given a certain eerie aura.  I believed that if it
were open, the idea that it was haunted would be swept away.  It would
be shown to be just a room-nothing more.  And this is what is
happening."

"Bravo!"  he said.

"St.  George and the dragon only this time we have a St.  Georgiana.
With her cool common-sense broom she sweeps away our medieval cobwebs
of superstition.  That's the case, isn't it?"

"It was time that particular cobweb was swept away."

"We like our fancies, you know.  We are said to be so unimaginative,
but are we really?  You tell me.  Miss Trant.  You know so much about
us."

"I must dispute that."  I had half risen.

"You are not going?"  He said it as a question but his eyes

made it a statement.

He took my wrist and held it so firmly that I could not release it.

Rather than attempt and fail, I sat down.

"Pray tell me how you came here?"  he said.

I told him about Frau Graben's coming into the shop, how" we had spoken
in German because her English was not very good.

"We grew friendly," I said.

"She thought it would be a good idea if I came out to teach the
children English, so I came."  < "What is she up to?"  he murmured.

"I think she thought it would be good for the children to speak
English."

"English teachers are not very difficult to come by," he mocked.

"Frau Graben thought a native would be best to teach the language."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Well," he said at length, "I'm glad she brought you over."

"I had the impression that you did not greatly admire my;

teaching ability.  "

"But there are some things I do admire about you."

"Thank you."  I rose again.

"If you will excuse me."

"No," he said.

"I will not.  I have made it very clear that I wish to talk to you."

"I cannot understand what we should have to talk about except the
children's progress in English and we have discussed that already."

"That was a not very inspiring topic," he said.

"I am sure we have greater points of interest.  I find you amusing."

I raised my eyebrows.

"That is what I call mock surprise.  You know you amuse me.  I see no
reason why we should not become good friends."

"I see many reasons."

"What are they?"

"Your elevated position, for one thing.  Aren't you the nephew of the
Duke?  You have already seen that my knowledge of protocol is
negligible."

"It is easily acquired."

"No doubt by those in the position to do so.  As an English
teacher-even though a parent of my charges is in a very exalted
position-I could hardly expect noble etiquette to concern me."

"It could concern you if I wished it."

"Oh, but surely that would be another breach of the social code? After
all, I am not even teaching your legitimate offspring."

He leaned towards me.

"Would you care to?  It could be arranged."

"I am happy with the present arrangement."

"Your cool English airs delight me.  You behave as though I am a
customer in the-er bookshop, was it?"

"Our encounter is not dissimilar.  I have to sell my services as a
teacher; you as my employer are buying them."

"Ours is a more lengthy transaction, surely."

"You would be surprised how many customers come back and back again in
book shops

"I think you and I are going to be on closer terms.  What do you
think?

Or haven't you thought about it yet?  "

"I do not have to think very long.  I know that our respective
positions and characters make a close acquaintance impossible."

He was taken slightly aback and I felt the victory was mine,
particularly as the gate clicked again and there stood Frau Graben
smiling at us.

"I knew you were here," she said.

"Miss Trant, Pastor Kratz wants to talk to you ... something about
changing the time of tomorrow's lesson.  Fredy, I wanted a word with
you."

He frowned at her.

"Oh, you can frown, Herr Donner," she said.

"You know I won't have tantrums."

As I hurried through the gate, I saw her fat smile as she prepared to
do battle with the Count.  I was reminded of Hildegarde, my guardian
angel of the hunting lodge.

My thoughts were in a turmoil for the rest of the day.  I knew the
relentless obstinacy of men like Count Frederic.  I could picture his
riding through the countryside, selecting the women who took his fancy
briefly.  He had believed that I would be so overawed by his
importance, so beguiled by his masculine charm, that I would be the
next victim. If, in spite of my attitude he still believed he could
overcome my resistance, he was mistaken.

More vividly than ever there came back to me that day when Maximilian
had loomed out of the mist.  Could it really have been that he had been
such another as this man?  I was now ten years older than that girl who
had been so deeply

impressed, who had fallen so much in love with the hero of the forest
that she had never forgotten him, even though there were times when she
feared he had been only another bold adventurer.  Had I endowed him
with the qualities of the heroes of his country's legends?  Was the
picture I had treasured for so many years only one of my own
painting?

If ten years ago the Count had shared that adventure, would I have
believed him to possess those qualities with which I had endowed
Maximilian.

When I went into the schoolroom after the Count had left there was a
babble of excitement among the children.  They were going hunting
tomorrow with the Count.

"Who told you that?"  I asked.

"The Count did," said Dagobert.

"He is coming for us at nine o'clock."

Dagobert's eyes shone with excitement but I detected a trace of
apprehension.  Even he was afraid that he could not match up to his
father's expectations.  As for Fritz, I could see that he was in a
state of terror.  I guessed that Fritz, after what had happened in the
pavilion during the slaughter of the deer, would be expected, as his
father would put it, to show his manhood.  It wouldn't surprise me if
this were not the purpose of the exercise.  The child sensed this, I
believed, and was very disturbed about it.

Liesel would not accompany them, of course.  She was going to watch
them ride off.  There would be a party of them and they were going to
hunt boar, the most dangerous creatures of the forest.  Boars could be
really vicious, Dagobert told me.

"My father likes hunting boar."

"Say it in English, please, Dagobert," I said automatically.

That night footsteps awakened me again.  Stealthily they went past my
door.  This time I immediately thought of Fritz.  I listened to which
direction they were going.  It was not to the turret-room this time.

Hastily I lighted my candle, put on my slippers and wrapped my
dressing-gown about me.  By the time I had done this I could no longer
hear the footsteps.  But I knew that they had descended the stairs.  I
went down the spiral staircase, through the narrow passages.  A cold
breeze sweeping into the fortress told me which door was open.

I hurried to it and I saw the small figure walking steadily

towards the stables" I ran.

Fritz was at the stable door; he was trying to open it.

I caught him.  The blank expression of the sleep-walker was on his
face.

I took him gently by the hand and led him back to the fortress.

Although it was summer and the days warm, the temperature dropped
considerably at night and his hand was icily cold.  I led him carefully
to his room.  He was shivering;

his feet were chilled; he wore nothing but his nightshirt.  He was
murmuring something: "No ... please no."  And there was such fear in
those words that I was sure I knew what was troubling him.

Tomorrow he was to go out hunting wild boar with his father: and he was
afraid.  That would explain why he had gone to the stables.

I felt a fury against this insensitive man who did not understand that
he had a son who might well be brilliant.  I had immediately assessed
Fritz's mental capacity; but because of this he was imaginative in a
manner which men such as the Count could not understand.

I leaned over Fritz.  I said: "It's all right, Fritz."

He opened his eyes.

He said: "Mutti ..."  Then, "Miss ..."

"Hello, Fritz.  Yes, I'm here."

"Did I walk?"

"A little ..."

He began to shiver.

I said: "It's all right.  Lots of people do it.  I heard you and
brought you back to bed."

"You heard me last time.  Dagobert heard them talking about it."

"I've got a special pair of ears for you."

That made him laugh.

"Tomorrow Fritz," I said, 'you're not going to the hunt.  "

"Did my father say ...?"

"I said you're not."

"You can't.  Miss."

"Oh yes, I can," I said.

"Your feet are like ice.  I'm going to put an extra blanket on.  And
tomorrow morning you're to stay in bed.  You're a little chilled.  And
you won't get up until it's too late to go with the hunters."

Can I, Miss?  Who says .  "

"I say," I said firmly.

In some way I had won his confidence.  He believed me.  I stayed by his
bed until he fell into a peaceful sleep, which was in a very short
time.

Then I went back to my room and tried to sleep.

I must be ready for the battle which would surely come the next
morning.

I watched the count and his party riding up to the schloss, and
steeling myself, went down and out of the fortress to the Randhausburg.
Dagobert was already there in his riding outfit.

As he was greeting his father, I slipped inside and waited in the
Rittersaal.  My battle with the Count must take place unobserved.  I
should never win if we had spectators because he was the sort of man
who would never concede if observed.

He had seen me enter and, as I knew he would, he quickly followed me
there.

"Good morning.  Miss Trant," he said.

"How gracious of you to come down to greet my party."

"I did so because I wanted to speak to you about Fritz."

"The boy, I suppose, is waiting to leave with us."

"No, I have told him to stay in bed for the morning.  He was chilled
last night."

He stared at me in astonishment.

"Chilled!"  he cried.

"In bed!  Miss Trant, what do you mean?"

"Exactly what I say.  Last night Fritz walked in his sleep.  I gather
he does this when he is disturbed.  He is a sensitive child, studious
rather than athletic."

"That seems to me all the more reason why he should take more physical
exercise.  Pray tell him to get up at once and that I am angry because
he was not ready and eager to go to hunt the boar."

"Would you have him pretend to feel something he doesn't?"

"I would have him hide his cowardice and pretend to a little
courage."

"He is no coward," I said fiercely.

"No?  When he cowers behind the skirts of his teacher?"

"I must make this clear.  It was on my orders that he stayed in bed
this morning."

"So you give orders here now.  Miss Trant?"

"It is essential for the teacher to tell her pupils what to do."

"Even when it is to disobey a parent?"

"It did not occur to me that any parent would want to drag a sick
child from his bed."

"How dramatic you are.  Miss Trant!  I did not think that an English
characteristic."

*I dare say it is not, but I must make you understand that Fritz is
different from Dagobert.  Now he will enjoy the hunt and he will not be
tortured by an over-active imagination.  You can make of him the sort
of man you admire someone in your own image.  "

"Thank you for that assessment of my character.  Miss Trant."

T think you understand perfectly that I would not presume to assess
your character on such a short acquaintance .  or in fact at all.  I
came here to teach children English and .  "And their father how to
treat his children.  His idiosyncrasies are no concern of yours, you
say.  Yet you belie this.  Because now you are telling me how wrong my
attitude is towards my son."

"Will you do this for me?"  I asked.  His expression changed.  He came
closer.  I held up a hand as though to ward him off and I went on
quickly: "Do not insist that Fritz goes to this hunt today.  Please
give me a chance with him.  He is nervous and the way to disperse that
nervousness is not to aggravate it, but to soothe it, to show him that
a great deal that he fears lies only in his mind."

"You talk like one of these newfangled doctors one hears of nowadays.

But you're a good advocate.  What has Fritz done to deserve such
concern?  "

"He is a child who needs understanding.  Please will you allow me to
have my way over this?"

"I've an idea.  Miss Trant, that you are a young woman who often gets
her way."

"You are wrong in that."

"Then you should be grateful to me."

I was suddenly thinking happily of Fritz's relief when he heard the
party riding away into the forest.

"You are charming when you smile," he said.

"It gives me pleasure to be responsible for such charm."

"I am grateful," I said.

He bowed.  He took my hand then and kissed it; I took it from his grasp
as soon as possible and he was laughing as he went out.

I went up to Fritz's room.  He started as I entered.

I said, "The party is just leaving.  Would you like to see them go? We
can watch from the window."  He looked at me as though I were a
magician.  He stood at the window and watched the cavalcade ride out of
the schloss grounds down the slopes into the pine forest.

I sat by Fritz's bed and gave him a lesson in English.  He sneezed once
or twice and I went down to Frau Graben to tell her I thought he had a
cold.  She brought up her own remedy-a cordial she made herself.  She
smacked her lips as she took a spoonful of it.

"Lovely!"  she said, beaming.

Fritz knew the cordial well and took it with relish.  It made him
sleepy, so I left him and went for a walk in the woods, but not very
far from the schloss.  I had no desire to run into the hunting party.

It was a lovely afternoon.  I came back and went to sit in the garden
to prepare next day's lesson; it was peaceful there, shut in as it was
by the short thick firs.

One of the two girls, Ella, who looked after us in the fortress, came
down to tell me that Frau Graben had sent a message over to ask me to
go to her sitting-room.

I went; she had a little spirit lamp which she used in the summer and
the kettle was boiling.

"Tea," she said once again, as though I were a small child to whom she
was offering a treat.

I noticed the new addition to the room-a blue gilded cage in which was
a canary.

"Look at my little angel," she said.  "Angel" , that is his name.

Tweet-tweet.  Isn't he a little treasure?  I saw him in a shop in the
Unterer Stadtplatz yesterday.  I couldn't resist buying him and
bringing him home.  They say some of them can talk.  Wouldn't I love to
hear him talk?  Come, little Angel.  Say "Frau Graben ..."  Say "Hello
Miss." Stubborn, eh?  Well, my little man, we'll see.  "

"You like ..."  I was going to say animals, but I suppose one could not
call canaries or spiders animals .  I substituted 'living things'.

Her eyes sparkled.

"I like to know what they'll do.  You can never be sure.  I like to see
for myself."

"What happened to your spiders?"

"One killed the other."

"And then?"

"I let the winner go.  It seemed only right.  I guessed that's what
would happen but you never know ... with living things they can do just
the opposite to what others in the same case have done before them.
Tweet, tweet, my Angel.  Come on, talk for Frau Graben."

The canary gave voice to a few notes, which delighted her.

"More!"  she cried.

"But what I really wanted, my pet, was for you to talk."  She smiled at
me.

"Well, if he won't that doesn't mean we can't.  There.

The kettle's boiling.  I'll make the tea and we'll get cosy.  "

Over the cups she said: "Well, so Fritz didn't go.  You could have
knocked me down with a feather.  What did Fredy have to say td you?"

"I told him that Fritz was a sensitive child.  This sleep walking
worries me.  It happens when he is disturbed.  He was worried last
night about this hunt ... so he walks in his sleep.  He is a very
clever boy.

We don't want him upset.  "

"And you told Fredy all this?"

I did.  "

"And he gave way!  It's a bad sign.  It shows that he likes you."

"Is it so bad to be liked by the Count?"

"If you're a young woman, it's tricky.  He's a libertine of the first
degree.  It's a way of life with them.  They've heard the stories of
their parents and grandparents.  We're a lusty nation.  Miss Trant; and
we're divided into these states which seem small to you but the heads
of them have great power ... they and their families.  It's not good
for young men.  In the past they've had their pick of the village
maidens and took it as a right.  The boys have been brought up to
this.

The history of our reigning families is one of seduction in various
ingenious forms.  The most popular through the last century or so was
the mock marriage.  There's our legend here of the haunted room that
you decided to un haunt You see what I mean about taking the Count's
fancy? A young woman's not safe when she does that.  "

"I am not a particularly young woman."

"Now, Miss Trant, you're not old.  And if you are some where up in the
twenties you've gained something on the way.  But I must warn you about
some of our gentlemen."

"I think I know how to deal with them."

"Fredy can be forceful."

"I think I shall know how to behave," Frau Graben seemed satisfied.
She beamed and handed me the spiced cakes.  I took one and nibbled at
it.  It was very rich.

"Well," she said, 'he'll soon be on duty at the Duke's schloss.  The
Prince is coming home.  There's to be a special procession to the
church to welcome him back.  I think it will be in a week or so.  "

"Where has he been?"  I asked.

"He's been to Berlin to take part in a conference there.  There's talk
about the French getting very obstreperous."

"And Rochenstein would fight with Prussia?"

"If the French attacked us all true Germans would stand together.  So
that's what the Prince has been doing.  You'll see him ride to the
thanksgiving service.  That'll be a day."

"Very soon, I suppose."

"As soon as he gets home the Chamberlain will arrange it.  You'll see
some crowds then.  You'll want to see the procession from the palace in
the town to the church and back to the palace."

"Is the Prince very poular?"

"You know how it is with royalty.  Sometimes they're popular, sometimes
not.  You'll see them riding through the streets and people shouting
for them and the next day they have a bomb thrown at them."

"Does that often happen?"

"Shall we say it happens.  They're not safe.  I was always terrified
when my boys used to go out with their parents.  In the first carriage
would be the Duke and his lady and their son the Prince and in the next
the Duke's brother Ludwig and Fredy.  Of course Ludwig was a traitor
and came to his end; Fredy swore loyalty but I reckon the loyalty of
most people is to one person themselves.  You'll have to go and see the
thanksgiving service.  They'll get the Processional Cross out, and as
you know that's quite a ceremony."

"It was indeed and I thought what a lot of trouble they had gone to
just to show me.  I shall never forget how they guarded it.  There was
a very pleasant soldier-Sergeant Franck I believe he was called.
Someone must have mentioned his name."

"Oh, I know Sergeant Franck.  A pleasant fellow.  He was put to
soldiering when quite a boy and I remember how proud his family were of
him when he got into the Duke's Guard.  Then he married that wife of
his.  She's changed.  It just shows

you what can happen.  She was a poor frightened little thing when she
married Franck.  There'd been some sort of past .  but he took care of
her and now she's got two children and is very pleased with herself.
The change in people!  It always makes me laugh.  There they are and
then life picks them up and puts them somewhere with someone else and
you watch what happens from there.  "

"Like soldiers," I said, "Oh, people are a lot more interesting than
them."

I agreed.

"I'm glad he's coming home when he is the Prince, I mean," she went
on.

"It's the right time, when you come to think of it.  Oh, he's a one, he
is.  Fredy always declares he was my favourite.

"I never had a favourite," I said.  But that wasn't really true. 
Thunder and Lightning, I said.  I couldn't imagine one without the
other.  The flash and the roar.  That's how they always seemed to me. 
I'd like to be back in the days when they were little.  The joy of my
life they were! Of course Ludwig, the Duke's younger brother, wanted
young Fredy brought up in the palace.  Secretly he thought he had as
much right there as the Duke.  Predy's Ludwig all over again.  He
always wanted to excel in everything, and just as Ludwig wanted to
outshine the Duke, so Fredy wanted to do better than his cousin the
Prince.  What the Prince had, he wanted -all their toys, I mean.  It
frightened me then.  Toys when they're young, and when they grow up, I
used to say, what then? It'll be more than toys then.  But you won this
morning, didn't you?  You got your way about young Fritzi.  My
goodness, you've done something for that child.

You understand children.  That's strange really, because there you are,
a spinster .  " Her smiling eyes were intent on my face, '... and never
having had one of your own."

I felt a slow flush creep into my cheeks.  I couldn't help it.  She had
conjured up so clearly a vision of that nursing home -the pregnant
women chatting on the lawn-the poor girl who had died Gretchen I think
her name was.  Gretchen Swartz.

I had hesitated a second too long; those bland smiling eyes missed very
little I was sure.

I said: "Understanding children is something one is born with,
perhaps."

"Oh yes, of course, that is so.  But when a woman has a child something
happens to her, I think.  I've seen it happen."

"Perhaps," I said coolly.

"Well, the Prince will be home in time for our great night.  Oh, you
wouldn't know about this.  We're regular ones for celebrations.  This
is Loke's land here.  The Lokenwald, you see.  And in two weeks' time
the moon will be full.  That's the night for mischief.  I shan't let
you go out on that night.  Miss Trant."

I shivered a little; memories were unbearable.

She leaned towards me and took my hand in her rather damp hot one.

"No, I wouldn't let you go out.  It's not safe.  Something gets into
people on that night.  It's Loke's moon-the seventh of the year; and
there are people here who will be good Christians every night of the
year except the night of the full seventh moon.  Then they're pagans
again just as they were centuries ago before Christianity came to tame
them down.  Why, Miss, I believe I've frightened you."

I tried to laugh.

"I've heard of it, you know.  I've read of the gods and heroes."

"So you do know something about our Night of the Seventh Moon after
all?"

"Yes," I said, "I know something."

The afternoon was hot and sunny.

"We'll all go down together," said Frau Graben, 'there'll be such
crowds I don't want anyone to get trampled to death.  "

"Surely it's not as bad as that," I protested.

"They're all excited to know he's back."

We drove down into the town through the mountain roads which never
failed to delight me.  The orchids and gentians were in bloom,
brightening the mountain slopes; every now and then we came upon a
plateau with a small farmhouse and heard the familiar tinkle of the cow
bells Down in the town the sun was shining on the mellowing roof-tops;
the bells were ringing and as we came into the Oberer Stadtplatz we
were greeted by the gay sight of flags fluttering from every place
where it was possible to put them.  The men and women were in their
native costume and I guessed that hundreds of them had come in from the
neighbouring countryside.

I was glad we had Frau Graben with us, for the children were very
excited and I should have been afraid that they might stray away and
get hurt in the crush.

We drove to the inn where we had stabled our horses on

another occasion and there a window looking on to the square in which
was the church had been kept for us.  From there we should be able to
see the procession undisturbed.

The innkeeper treated Frau Graben with great respect.  She evidently
knew him well for she asked after his daughter.  His eyes lit up at the
mention of her and he clearly doted on her.

"The prettiest girl in Rochenburg," commented Frau Graben, and I was
aware of the sly speculative look in her eyes and wondered what it
meant.

Wine and little spiced cakes, at the sight of which Frau Graben's eyes
glistened, were brought out and there was some sweet drink for the
children.

Frau Graben was clearly as excited as the boys and Liesel.  Dagobert
kept telling me what everything signified; Fritz, now completely
devoted to me, kept near me and I was delighted because this was a
spectacle he was going to enjoy; Liesel could not keep still; but Frau
Graben seemed absorbed in some secret mirth which delighted her to such
an extent that I got the impression that she was debating whether she
would be more amused to share her mirth or keep it entirely to
herself.

Everywhere was an air of expectancy; people called excitedly to each
other.  The flags gaily fluttered at the windows.  I recognized that of
Rochenstein of course, and the Prussian flag, but most of the Austrian
and German states were represented.  A band started to play.  In the
Oberer Stadtplatz a choir was singing.  I recognized the words which
began:

"Unsem Ausgang segne Gotf " God bless our going out nor less our coming
in.  " My mother had taught me this.  They sang it, she said, when they
moved into a new house.  I suppose it could now refer to the Prince's
visit to Prussia and his return home.

In the distance I could hear the military band.

"They'll be coming from the palace now.  You'll see the Processional
Cross, Miss Trant," chortled Frau Graben.

"I dare say there was a big ceremony getting it out of the crypt."

"Yes, and taking it to the palace.  Sergeant Franck was telling me
about it."

"I shall look forward to seeing it in use.  I hope nobody tries to
steal it," Dagobert looked excited.

"If they did I'd run after them.

I'd kill them.  I'd get it back.  "

"Single-handed?"  I asked.

"All by myself," went on Dagobert.

"Then the Duke would send for me and he'd say you're my true son and
you'll come before Carl ..."

"Poor Carl!"  I said lightly.

"It's hard on him.  After all, to be set aside because he didn't
recapture the cross.  Is that fair?"

"Nothing's fair," said Dagobert.

"My father could be the Prince ..."

"Now," said Frau Graben comfortably, 'that's enough of that talk,
Dagobert.  The Prince is the Duke's son and true heir and little Carl
the heir to follow him.  That's how it's been arranged.  You're getting
more like your father every day.  Oh look, here's the beginning.  My
word, don't the soldiers look fine in their uniforms!  "

They did indeed; the brightly caparisoned horses with their waving
plumes; the blue and gold uniforms and the glitter of helmets; the
marching tunes of the band; the waving flags.  The crowd was reduced to
a momentary hush.  Then the cheers broke out.

On came the brilliant cavalcade and behind it members of the church in
the long black and white robes.  A soldier on horseback held the
Processional Cross.  It scintillated in the bright light; the emeralds,
rubies and sapphires shone and the diamond sparkled with red and blue
fire.  This was the way in which to see it.  I recognized Sergeant
Franck riding on one side of it; there was another stalwart soldier on
the other.

The silence as the cross passed could only be construed as an awed
hush.

After the cross came the ducal coach.  It was not unlike the pictures I
had seen of our queen's coach, elaborately gilded and drawn by eight
white horses.  There was the Duke and on one side of him the Prince and
on the other the woman whom I had seen at the pavilion and who had
reminded me of Ilse.

I hardly saw the Duke, nor the Princess.  I felt as though I had
stepped back into a mad fantastic dream.  I stared; for there, seated
between the Duke and the Princess, was Maximilian.

FIVE

Frau Graben was saying, "Are you all right, Miss Trant?  My goodness,
you do look queer.  Is it the heat?"

"I ... I'm all right," I said.

The sound of brass bands seemed a long way off; the crowds below me
seemed to sway; I looked at the goose- stepping soldiers without really
seeing them.

I could never mistake him.  I knew him too well.  In his uniform he
looked more splendid than he had in the woods.  But I would have known
him in any costume.

I sat there, aware of Frau Graben's anxious glances which were somehow
eager and excited.  I was sure she knew that it was something more than
the heat which had disturbed me.

The crowds were sweeping forward; the ducal party and its retinue had
now gone into the church; the service was in progress.

Frau Graben had brought her smelling-salts from the capacious pocket of
her skirts.

"Have a sniff of these, my dear," she said.

"And, Fritzi, run and tell the innkeeper to come to me."

I repeated: "I'm all right."  But my voice sounded strange, shaky.

"I think you felt a bit faint, dear.  Would you like us to go back now
or would you like to wait?"

Dagobert's mouth was a round 0 of protest.  Liesel began to wail: "I
won't go home."  Fritz looked at me anxiously.

"I want to stay," I said.

Indeed I wanted to stay.  I wanted to see him again.  I wanted to
assure myself that I had been right.  I kept saying to myself: When you
first saw the Count for a second or so you thought he was Maximilian.

Perhaps you've been mistaken again.  But no.  I had not been.  It was
true I would know him anywhere; and the reason there was a resemblance
between him and the Count was because they were cousins; they had been
brought up together and it was not only their looks which were
similar.

The innkeeper came and Frau Graben asked him for brandy.  When it came
she said: "Here, Miss Trant, sip this.

It'll do you the world of good.  "

"There's nothing wrong," I protested.

"I don't think you're right, dear."

She was smiling, faintly complacent.  She didn't seem to take her eyes
from my face.

"There," she said, when I had taken some brandy, 'that's better.  "

I wanted to shout: It makes no difference.  It's not the heat.  I've
seen Maximilian and Maximilian is your Prince of Rochenstein.

The children were chattering.

"I liked the cross best."

"I didn't.  I liked the soldiers."

"I liked the drums."

"Did you see papa?"

"Papa was the best.  He was the most handsome."

And so on.  I wished Frau Graben would not show such concern.

"Perhaps we should have left," she whispered.

No, no.  It'll be all right.  "

"It's too late now.  The crowd's growing more dense.  They'll all be
there till after the return procession back to the palace."

The service was over at last.  They rode through the streets.  Once
more I saw him.  At one moment I thought that, as he acknowledged the
shouts of the crowd, he would look up at our window, but he did not.

I felt dizzy and bewildered; but there was a great singing gladness in
my heart.  I had found Maximilian.

I was silent as Prinzstein, one of the coachmen, drove us back to
Klocksburg.

When we arrived, Frau Graben said: "I should go and lie down, dear.

That's the best thing after a turn like that.  "

There was nothing I wanted to do so much as to be alone.  My thoughts
were in a whirl.  I had to see him.  I must let him know that I was
here. Whatever had happened during those three days following the Night
of the Seventh Moon I knew that it was the Prince whom I had met in the
mist and that he was the father of my child.

Little scraps of Frau Graben's conversation came back to me.  Her boys
had been 'ones' for the women; they had seen them and fancied them and
let nothing stand in the way of their desires.  She had impressed that
upon me.

I was suddenly reminded of the Princess Wilhelmina-the n. o. s. m. 193
o

woman who had a look of Ilse.  His wife!  But how could she be if he
were married to me?  Unless of course they had been married before. 
No, I remembered something Frau Graben had said.  Four years ago the
Prince had married .  reluctantly .  a woman who came from a more
important state than Rochenstein.  So it was a good match.  They had a
child, who had followed in one of the carriages.  I had not noticed
him.  I could see nothing, think of nothing but Maximilian.

A great desolation came to me.  It was nine years since we had met.

What place could I have in his life now?

But I must see him.  I might mean nothing to him, but I must see him. 
I had to know what had happened to me during those six days of my
life.

How did one see a Prince?  One could not, I supposed, go to the schloss
or the palace and ask to see him.  Perhaps one asked for an audience.

My life was once more taking a dramatically fantastic turn.

Frau Graben was knocking at the door.

"Ah, lying down!"  she said.  That's right.  I've brought you some of
my special wine.  "

"You are very good," I said.

"Stuff and nonsense."  She laughed as though something had secretly
amused her.

"This will do you good.  I made it myself.  It's made with dandelions
and a touch of the sloe, but I'm not giving any more secrets away, not
even to you, dear Miss Trant.  Poor Fritzi's very anxious about you. My
goodness, you've wormed your way into that boy's heart-no mistake. And
he's not one to give his affection easily either.  You frightened
me."

I sipped the wine.  It made my throat tingle.

"It'll warm the cockles of your heart, as they say.  There now, doesn't
it?  What did you think of our Prince?"

"Very handsome ..."

"Well, I'd say Fredy was the more handsome of the two but young Maxi
had a charm of his own."

"So you called him Maxi."

"Oh, he's Carl Ludwig Maximilian like his father-so is the little
one.

They're all Carls when they come to power but they have their own
family names.  The boy's called Carl in the Family and in public, like
his grandfather.  It did me good to see Maxi.  He looked well, I
thought, after his stay in Berlin.  I'll warrant he enjoyed that.  They
say the Berlin girls

are very smart.  "

"Did he go to see the girls?"

She laughed her loud abandoned laugh.

"Well, he'd always do that; but it was this conference as well.  He'll
have to show himself now round the countryside.  I'll bet he'll be off
on a tour of some sort soon.

He's been away some time.  It was a good procession, wasn't it? 
Nothing like royalty to draw the crowds.  And of course a young Prince
is always an attraction.  Prince Charming, you know.  The people like a
young Duke and they say his father's not long for this world.  He had a
bad illness last year.  It was a wonder he survived.  Fredy's a
trial.

He doesn't want to see his cousin come into the title the boy I brought
up with him in the nursery.  " She shook her head.

"Fredy was always a handful.  They both were."

While she spoke she was watching me with her bright, humorous but
intent gaze.

I wanted to say to her: Go away.  I must be alone to think.

She went to the window.

"There's his own flag flying from the tower.

Blue on green with the eagle in the corner.  That means he's there. 
The Duke's flag is there too.  "

I got up and went to the window and looked out.  There were the two
flags as Frau Graben had said.

"Fredy flies his flag from his own schloss and it's very similar to
Maxi's.  Fredy had the design altered slightly so that the difference
between them is not all that easy to tell.  Mischief!"

I stood at the window looking at the fluttering flags.

"He's come home in time for the Night of the Seventh Moon," she
observed.

I spent a sleepless night and the next morning was determined to see
him soon.  If I wrote, would the letter reach him?  There were probably
secretaries who screened his correspondence.  Suppose I presented
myself at the schloss and said: "I must see the Prince.  I am an old
friend of his."

It would not be easy.  There were guards at the entry to the schloss.

They would not let me through.  I could consult Frau Graben.  If she
were on such familiar terms with Maximilian as she was with the Count,
she would advise me; but she would ferret my story from me and I did
not wish to speak of it to anyone.

I remembered how it had upset me when I had talked to Anthony.  No one
could have been more sympathetic, too much so perhaps.

Frau Graben came to my room before breakfast to see how I was.  Why
didn't I take a day's holiday?  she said.  Get into the forest with the
children.  It would do me good.

I said: "Is the Family accessible?"

She looked puzzled.

"I mean, do they meet people?"

"They're meeting people all the time."

"I mean spontaneously.  Do people call on them ...?"

"Call on them!  Well, not exactly.  They'd have to wait until they were
asked, wouldn't they?"

"I see.  And I suppose there are secretaries and so on to protect
them?"

"Well, would anyone be able to call on your queen?"

I said I was sure that would have to be arranged too.

She went to the window.

"Oh, the Prince's flag is no longer flying.

That means he's set off on his tour already.  I shan't see him
now-until he gets back.  I'll give him a good talking to.  He knows I
like to see him when he gets back from his stays away from us.  "

I felt a sense of frustration.  I was on the point of telling Frau
Graben that I was planning to see him; that I must see him on a matter
of great importance to me.  But I felt it was wiser to say nothing.  In
any case I could take no action until he came back.  Perhaps in the
next few days some solution would occur to me.

So I continued to fret and brood and yet sometimes I was so happy that
my moods were unpredictable.  I fluttered between despair and a wild
unreasoning hope.

The children were excited.  Soon it would be the Night of the Seventh
Moon.  They had pointed the moon out to me when it was no more than a
slim crescent lying there in the sky, seeming to hang over the ducal
schloss.  When it was full there would be the great night.

There would be firework displays in the schloss gardens and the whole
town would be able to see them.  Frau Graben had said that we should
look from the turret-room where we would get the best view.

"The children would like to go into the town," she said, 'but I'm not
having that.  As for you.  Miss Trant, I'd strongly advise you to stay
in too.  I wouldn't like to think of you out there.

People seem to go quite mad on this night.  You wouldn't understand. 
"

"I think I do," I said.

"My goodness, ordinary decent Christians behave like barbarians.

Something happens when the moon is full, they say.  We go right back to
the days before Jesus Christ walked this earth.  Then there was a
different religion here and this is Loke's land .  the land of
mischief. I reckon it's time this was abolished.  The Duke tried to
once, you know, but the people wouldn't have it.  Whether the night was
recognized or not, they were still out in their masks and costumes.

There's many a girl meets her ruin on the Night of the Seventh Moon.
"

*I shall be content to watch from the turret-room window," I said.

She nodded smiling.

"I'll feel happier to know you're there."

All day long there was a mounting tension.  On the previous afternoon
the Prince had returned to the schloss.  Before I went to bed I saw his
flag flying from the tower.

I could not describe my feelings; they fluctuated between despair and
elation, between frustration and hope.  One thought filled my mind: I
must see him soon.

In the afternoon the children, Frau Graben and I drove down into the
town to see the preparations.  Flags were hanging from the windows of
the houses and I had never seen the flower-boxes at many of the windows
so colourful.  Some of the shops had boarded up their windows.

The sun was hot; people were laughing and joking; they were all talking
of "Tonight'.

"I want to come down here tonight and see the dancing," announced
Dagobert.

"You're going to see the fireworks," Frau Graben told him firmly.

"I want to come too," said Liesel, who followed Dagobert in
everything.

"Now, now," said Frau Graben comfortably, 'the fireworks will be
lovely.  "

"I'll come out and put on a mask and ride down," cried Dagobert.

"I dare say, my lad, in your dreams," laughed Frau Graben.

"Now, who'd like to go to The Prince's for spiced buns?"  She gave me
a gentle nudge.  That sounded funny, didn't it?  Go to the Prince's for
spiced buns.  The inn, I mean, of course, not His Highness.  "

She went on chuckling at her joke and I made up my mind that the next
day I would come down to the town when the children were with Pastor
Kratz and ride up to the schloss and tell the guards that they must let
the Prince know that Helena Trant was asking to see him.  At least if I
did not see him, then I might discover how I could do so.

The children chattered over their buns and Frau Graben said we'd better
be getting back.  The crowds started coming in early, and we didn't
want to get caught in the crush.

The evening came.  I kept thinking of that long-ago day, of going forth
into the town another town, it was true, but that afternoon I had been
struck by the similarity between the two-of losing Ilse and plunging
straight into fantasy.

The children were allowed to stay up a little later than usual to see
the fireworks.

"Providing," said Frau Graben, 'that as soon as they are over, there
are no protests about going to bed.  "

So when it was dark we went to the turret-room the children, myself and
Frau Graben.  Candles in sconces stood on either end of the mantel
shelf and on the polished table was a small candelabrum.  The effect
was enchanting.

We ranged ourselves round the window and the display began.

It was taking place in the grounds of the ducal schloss, which was an
excellent spot as it would be visible from almost every point.  The
children shrieked with excitement as the fireworks flashed across the
sky and when the display was over there were groans of disappointment,
but Frau Graben hustled them all away and as she did so she whispered
to me:

"Stay here.  I'll join you later.  There's something I want to show
you."

So I stayed and, looking round the room, remembered the unhappy woman
who was alleged to have thrown herself from the window and haunted the
room ever since.  In candle light it did seem eerie.  I wondered how
desolate one had to become before one took such a terrible step; I
could imagine her feelings so acutely in those moments.

I felt a great desire to go to my comfortable room below;

here I felt remote from the rest of the fortress, although only the
spiral staircase separated us.

I turned away from the window and sat at the table.  Footsteps were
mounting the spiral staircase-two sets of footsteps.  My heart began to
beat wildly.  I wasn't sure why.  I sensed that something tremendous
was about to happen.  Frau Graben was with the children-she could
hardly have bad time yet to see them in bed.  There were just the two
maids in the fortress.  The steps were not light enough for those.

The door was thrown open.  It was Frau Graben, beaming, her hair
slightly ruffled, an unusual flush in her cheeks.

She said: "Here she is."

And then I saw Maximilian.

I stood up, my hand touching the table for support.  He came in; he
stared at me unbelievingly.  Then he said: "Lenchen!  It can't be!

Lenchen!  "

I went forward; I was caught in his arms.  I clung to him.  I felt his
lips on my brow and cheeks.

"Lenchen," he repeated.

"Lenchen ... it can't be."

I heard Frau Graben chuckle.

"There.  I brought her for you, couldn't have my Lightning fretting, so
I went and got her for you."

Her laughter broke in on our wonder in each other and we were only
vaguely aware of what she was saying.  Then the door shut and we were
alone.

I said: "I'm not dreaming, am I?  I'm not dreaming?"

He had taken my face in his hands; his fingers caressed it as though he
were tracing its contours.

"Where have you been, Lenchen ... all this time?"

"I thought I should never see you again."

"But you died ... You were in the lodge ..."

"The lodge had disappeared when I went back.  Where had you gone?  Why
didn't you come for me?"

"I'm afraid you'll disappear in a moment.  I've dreamed of you so
often.  And then I wake to find my arms empty and you gone ... You were
dead, they told me.  You were in the lodge when it happened .."

I shook my head.  All I wanted for the moment was to cling to him.

Later we could talk.

"I can only think of one thing at the moment.  You're here ... with
me."

"We're together.  You're alive ... my darling Lenchen , .. alive and
here.  Never leave me again."

7 .  leave you.  " I laughed.  I hadn't laughed like that for years
abandoned, gay ... in love with life.

And for the moment there was nothing for us both but the joy of this
blissful reunion.  We were together; his arms were about me; his kisses
on my lips .  our bodies calling for each other.  A hundred memories
were back with me-they had never really left me, but before I had never
dared look back at this perfect joy because to know that it had gone,
to have that lingering doubt that it had ever existed, would have been
unbearable.

But there was the mystery between us.

"Where have you been?"  he was demanding.

"What happened on the Night of the Seventh Moon?"  I had to know.

We sat side by side on the couch before us was the open window; the
smell of burning bonfires was on the air; we could hear the shouts of
the people far away in the town.

I said: "We must start from the beginning.  I must know everything. Can
you imagine what it is like to believe there is a possibility that you
have lost six days of your life and three of them the happiest you have
ever known?  Oh, Maximilian, what happened to us?  Start at the
beginning.  We met in the mist.  You took me to your hunting lodge and
I stayed a night there and you tried to come to my room but the door
was locked and Hildegarde was there to protect me.  That was real
enough, I know.  It is the next part.  My cousin Ilse and her husband
Ernst came to Oxford and brought me back to the Lokenwald."

"She was not your cousin, Lenchen.  Ernst was in my service.  He had
been an ambassador to the court of Klarenbock, the home of the
Princess."

"She whom they say is your wife.  How can she be?  / am your wife."

"My Lenchen," he cried fervently, 'you are my wife.  You .  and you
only. "

"We were married, were we not?  It's true.  It must be true."

He took my hands and looked at me earnestly.

"Yes," he said, 'it's true.  The people around me thought I was
repeating the practices of my ancestors, which are sometimes carried
out now, I fear.  But it was not so in our case, Lenchen.  We were
truly married.  You are indeed my wife.  I am your husband.  "

"I knew it was true.  I would not believe otherwise.  But tell me, my
dearest husband.  Tell me everything."

"You came to the lodge and in the morning Hildegarde took you back to
the Damenstift and that was the end of our little adventure-so I
thought.  It did not turn out as I intended for I saw that you were so
young, a schoolgirl merely.  It was not only Hildegarde who looked
after you that night.  But you had done something to me, aroused
feelings I had not experienced before.  And after you'd gone I
continued to think of you and I wanted to see you again.  Try to
understand how things have been.  Perhaps I have been overindulged, not
refused often enough.  You became an obsession with me.  I thought of
you constantly.  I could not stop thinking of you.  I talked of you to
Ernst.  As an older man of rich worldly experience, he wagered that if
my affair with you had progressed as so many had before, I should have
forgotten it in a few weeks.  So we planned to, bring you out here that
you and I might meet again."

"And Ilse ..."

"She had married Ernst when he was ambassador to Klarenbock.  She is
the sister of the Princess but a natural sister, so that marriage with
our ambassador was a good one for her.  Ernst was ill; he needed
medical advice and the best to be found was in London.  He wagered me
that he and Ilse would bring you back.  And so they went to Oxford;

they told this story of the relationship between Ilse and your mother
and they brought you Out here.  "

"A plot!"  I cried.

He nodded.

"A not very original one."

"I did not see through it."

"Why should you?  It was made easy by the fact that your mother was
born here.  But that I suppose is the pivot on which everything
turns.

You had our forests and mountains in your blood.  That I sensed from
the moment we met.  It drew us together.  It was simple for Ilse to
assume relationship.  She could talk of the home life she had alleged
she shared with your mother.  Homes of the sort from which your mother
would have come are very much alike.  That part was easy.  So you came,
and then on the Night of the Seventh Moon .  "

"You were there waiting when she brought me into the square and that
was her cue to disappear?"

"I was there.  My intention was to take you to the lodge and to stay
there with you until such a time as one of us should wish to leave.  I
even had plans for keeping you there alto201

gether.  That was really how I hoped it would turn out.  "

"But it was different."

"Yes, it was different.  Nothing like it had ever happened to me
before.  As soon as I saw you again I knew how different.  I didn't
care for anything.  I knew that whatever happened afterwards we were
meant for each other and that I would face anything rather than lose
you.

There would be immense difficulties, I knew, because of my position but
I didn't care.  I could think of only one thing that mattered to me.  I
was going to make you my wife.  "

"And you did!  It's true that you did.  They lied to me- Ilse, Ernst
and the doctor.  They said ... oh, it was shameful ... that I was
carried off into the forest by a criminal and that I returned to the
house in such a state that they had to put me under sedation to save my
reason."

"But they knew what had happened."

Then why .  oh, why .  "

"Because they feared the consequences of what I had done.  But how
could they?  Like the rest of my staff, they believed that our marriage
was no true marriage.  They did not believe it possibly could be.  How
could I, my father's heir, marry except for state reasons?  But I
could, Lenchen, and I did, because I loved you so much that I could
contemplate no thing else.  I could not deceive you, my darling.  How
could I deceive my own true love?  I knew and they knew that my cousin
had on one occasion deluded a girl into thinking that he was marrying
her and that the man who performed the ceremony was no true priest,
thus making that ceremony with out meaning.  A mock marriage.

That was what they thought ours was.  But I loved you, Lenchen.  I
couldn't do that.  "

"I'm so happy," I cried.

"So happy!"  Then: "Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

"I had to keep it secret, even from you, until I had made my
arrangements.  I alone must explain this to my father, for I knew that
there were going to be all kinds of difficulties.  He had been urging
me to marry for some time for state reasons.  It was not the moment to
tell him that I had married without his consent and that of his
council.  There was too much trouble in the dukedom.  My Uncle Ludwig
was seeking an opportunity to overthrow my father and could well seize
on what he would call a mesalliance as a reason for deposing him and
setting up my cousin as heir.  I could not tell my father then .  < s
and when I could have done so, I believed you to be dead."

"I must tell you what happened, because I can see that you have no
idea.  Ilse and Ernst came and took me away from the lodge after you
had gone."

"And told me that you were there when the place was blown up."

"We must follow it bit by bit as it happened, for it all seems so
incredible.  After you went.  Ilse and Ernst took me back to the house
they had rented in the town.  The next morning I awoke in a dazed
condition and they told me I had been unconscious for six days after I
had been criminally assaulted in the forest."

"Impossible!"

"This is what they told me.  They had a doctor there.  He said he had
kept me under sedation to save my reason, and that the days which I
believed I had spent with you had actually been passed in my bed."

"But how could they hope that you would believe that?"

"I didn't, but they had the doctor there.  And when I went back to the
lodge it was gone."

"The lodge was blown up on the day I left.  Hildegarde and Hans had
gone into the town for provisions.  It happened while they were away. I
believed it was a plot to kill me.  There have been such plots before
and my Uncle Ludwig was at the bottom of them.  It is not the first
time that I and members of my family have escaped death by a very small
margin.  Ernst came to tell me that the lodge had been blown up and you
were in it at the time."

*I went there to look for it," I said, 'and found it was a shell.  So
it had only just been demolished.  Oh you see how I have been
deceived."

"Poor, poor Lenchen.  How you must have suffered!  How we both have!

There must have been times when you wished we had never met in the
forest that day.  "

"Oh no, no," I said fiercely.

"I never felt that... not even in the most wretched and desperate
moments."

He took my hands and kissed them.

I went on: "So I stayed with them and they looked after me ... and when
the child was born ..."

"The child!"  he cried.

"Oh yes, we had a child.  She died at birth.  I think I was

never so unhappy as when they told me.  At least, I thought, I shall
have her, and I thought I would take a post at the Damenstift and I
planned our future together .  hers and mine.  "

"So we had a child," he repeated.

"Oh Lenchen, my poor sweet Lenchen.

And Ilse and Ernst .  why did they do this?  Why should they have done
this?  I must discover what this means.  "

"Where are they now?"

"Ernst is dead.  He was ill, you know ... very ill.  Ilse went back to
Klarenbock.  I heard she married again.  But why should they tell me
you were dead?  What motive was there in this?  I shall find Ilse.  I
must have the truth from her.  I will send someone to Klarenbock to
bring her here.  I want to know from her what this means."

"She must have had a reason."

"We'll find it," he said.

Then he turned once more to me; he touched my hair and my face as
though trying to convince himself that I was really there.

I was so happy to be with him, I could think of nothing beyond the
glorious fact that we were together.  I was bewildered still groping in
the dark, but Maximilian was with me and that for the moment was
enough.  And I had learned the truth of what happened on the Night of
the Seventh Moon; I had taken back those six days of my life; they
belonged to me and I had been wantonly deceived.

What could have been the motive of Ilse, Ernst and the doctor?  Why
should they have deceived me so utterly that they had almost made me
doubt my own reason in order that events might appear in the light they
wished them to.

Why?

But Maximilian was there, and as happened long ago, I could think of
nothing else.  So while the moon shone its light into the turret-room I
was happy as I had not been since the days of my honeymoon.

There was a light tap on the door and Frau Graben came in carrying -a
tray on which was a squat lighted candle, wine and glasses, with a dish
of her favourite spiced cakes.

She said, her eyes gleaming with delight: "I've brought you these.  I
thought you'd be hungry.  Well, Master Lightning," she went on.

"You can't say you're not old Graben's favourite now, can you?"

"I never did," he replied.

She set the tray on the table.  She said: "Oh, Miss Trant, I knew how
he was " fretting for you.  I could tell.  He was never the same
again.

He used to be so gay .  he was the gay one .  always up to tricks,
laughing, joking .  and then suddenly he changes.  It's a woman, I
said. Then poor old Hildegarde Lichen told me.  She turned to me.  We'd
worked at the schloss together in the nursery.  She was my
under-nurse.

She thought the world of the boys and in particular Lightning here.

And she told me all-about how the little English girl came to the lodge
one night and how he was never the same since.  It was such a romantic
story and how they blew up the lodge so that it would look as though
she had died there.  "

"Hildegarde told you that?"  cried Maximilian.

"Why didn't you tell me?

Why didn't you?  "

"It was a secret, Hildegarde insisted.  She told me With her dying
breath.  And she said, " Tell no one unless it's necessary to his
happiness, for it is better that he should think her gone.  "

"You were always an old meddler," said Maximilian.

"But how dared you keep this from me?"

"Now don't scold me.  I brought her back, didn't I?  I planned it all.
I went and found her and played the tourist looking for books and
making it all seem so natural.  All the time I was thinking, I'll
surprise Master Lightning, and how right it was that he should have his
surprise on the Night of the Seventh Moon.  I'll have a glass of wine
with you, shall I?"

She did not wait for the invitation; she filled three glasses and sat
down, sipping, and nibbling one of her spiced cakes.

She talked of how poor Hildegarde had worried about what had taken
place in the -hunting lodge.  She had made Hildegarde tell her all she
knew and Hildegarde knew a great deal.  She had been as interested in
everything concerning the Prince as Frau Graben herself.  She had kept
her eyes open.  She knew that the young lady was a pupil in the
Damenstift when she first come to the lodge, and that when she returned
she had been brought out by Ilse and Ernst and that her father had kept
a bookshop in Oxford.  She knew her name.

"I noted that," said Frau Graben.

"I liked to know what my boys were up to and this was no ordinary
affair.  Hildegarde

knew that it was different right from the start, she said.  That was
why she was so upset.  She didn't like it.  And that ceremony she
didn't like at all.  She said it wasn't right.  The girl was so
innocent that she believed it was a true marriage.  "

"It was a true marriage," said Maximilian.

Frau Graben stared at him and then at me.

"Mem Gott}' she cried.

"It's not true.  It's one of your larks.  I know you, Master
Lightning."

"Dear Graben," he said solemnly, "I swear to you that I was married to
Lenchen in the hunting lodge nine years ago."

She shook her head and then I saw her lips begin to curl.  She had
brought me here; she had presented me to him.  This was the kind of
high drama she liked to provoke.  But if we were truly married!  I
could imagine her delight in the possibilities this was suggesting to
her;

and for the first time since Maximilian had walked into the room I was
fully aware of the complicated situation which confronted us.  Until
that moment I had thought of little but the fact that Maximilian had
come back to me.  My reason was vindicated; I had been the victim of a
wicked plot but I was not unbalanced.  I had imagined nothing and I had
regained my husband.

Frau Graben was saying: "It is so, then?"

"It is so," answered Maximilian.

"And Miss Trant is your wife."

"She is my wife, Graben."

"And the Princess Wilhelmina?"

A shadow crossed his face.  I believed he had forgotten her existence
until that moment.

"She cannot be my wife since I have been married to Lenchen for nine
years."

Frau Graben said: "Mein Gott} This will shake the dukedom What have you
done, Maxi?  What will happen to us all now?"  She chuckled, not
without a degree of delight, "But you don't care, do you?  You're
bemused both of you.  You don't see anything but each other.  Oh Maxi,
you love her, don't you?  It does me good to see you together, that it
does.  Don't forget I found her-I brought her to you."

"You meddling old woman," he said, "I'll never forget you brought her
back to me."

"Tomorrow," she said, her eyes sly, 'that'll be the time to face the
music.  " She laughed.  Tonight is the Night of the Seventh Moon.  We
mustn't forget that, must we?  Oh, you're going to be grateful to me,
Maxi ... and you too.  Miss Trant.  All these years ... fancy 1 And you
two pining for each other.  I said to Hildegarde, " You tell me about
that room in the hunting lodge" and she told me, for she knew every
piece that was in that room.  So I said to myself: I'll make another
room here in Klocksburg and tonight we shall put the clock back.  We'll
bring the lovers together again.  The bridal chamber awaits you, my
chicks.  You can't say that old Graben doesn't look after you."

"You brought Lenchen here, Graben," said Maximilian, 'and I shall bless
you for ever for that.  But now we want to be alone.  "

"Of course you do, and you're going to be.  I've got the bridal chamber
ready myself."  She grimaced and tiptoed to the door, looking back as
though loath to leave us.

"We always got on like a house afire, didn't we Miss Trant?  We'll have
some talks ... She shut the door on us and we were in each other's
arms.  I knew that he was, as I was, recalling those days in the lodge
and the intensity of our need for each other was unendurable.

"Tomorrow we can talk," he said.

"We will make our plans.  We have to consider very carefully what we
must do.  Of one thing I am certain.  We shall never be parted again,
whatever may come.  But that is for tomorrow ..."

He opened the door.  Frau Graben was waiting there with a candle.  We
followed her down the stairs and she opened a door.  The full moon
shining through the window showed me the four-poster bed.  It was a
faithful reproduction of the room we had shared in the hunting lodge
during our honeymoon.

And now, after nine long and weary years, we were together again.

The great moon hung heavy in the sky and I was happy as I had never
thought to be again.

When the dawn was in the sky we were both awake.  I knew that he felt
as I did.  We did not want a new day to come for we knew that it must
bring with it problems.  I kept thinking of the cold proud face of the
woman who believed herself to be his wife.

But no matter how we wished it, the magic night was over

"and the day had begun.

"Lenchen," he said, "I shall have to go back to my father's schloss."

"I know."

"But tonight I will come here."

I nodded.

"If I had not allowed them to persuade me to this marriage with
Wilhelmina it would have been so much easier.  I shall have to tell
her."  He frowned.

"She will never understand."

"You can prove it to her," I said.

"I have our marriage lines.  Do you remember?  There was one set for
you and one for me.  I can produce the priest."

They took my lines from me," I said.

"It will not be easy, Lenchen.  There is my father who is very sick.  I
don't think he has long to live and this could hasten his death."

"I begin to see what it will mean.  How I wish that you had been-say, a
lawyer, a doctor or a woodcutter in your little cottage.  How happy I
should have been then!"

"Ah, Lenchen, how fortunate these people are!  They are not watched at
every turn.  Their actions are not the spark that sets off mighty
conflicts.  This is the worst possible time.  Klarenbock will consider
this an insult to the ruling house.  It could mean war with them ... at
a time when the French are threatening to march against Prussia, which
would involve the entire German states.  I must have time to think.  I
can only be sure of one thing.  I love you, Lenchen.  You have come
back to me and we shall never be parted again."

"As long as you tell me that, as long as I may be with you, I am
content."

"It must be settled soon, my dearest.  I can't bear the uncertainty.

Whatever happens we must be together .  and not in secret.  But I must
go.  They will be missing me.  "

I went with him out into the early morning and watched him ride away.

As I came back into the fortress and mounted the stairs to my bridal
chamber I heard footsteps behind me and I guessed who it was.  Frau
Graben's hair was in iron curlers under a sleeping cap; her eyes were
sparkling and she was smiling secretly, delighted with herself, with me
and her Master Lightning.  I thought fleetingly that she must always
have lived vicariously through her boys, and therefore this must be
one of the most exciting occasions of her life.

She said: "So he's gone."

She followed me into the room.  I sat on the bed while she settled
comfortably into a chair.

"Well," she said, 'he's happy again .  happy as he hasn't been for nine
years.  You have a big responsibility.

Miss Trant.  Oh, I mustn't call you that now, must I-but just for old
times' sake until your title's known.  Well, you've got a lot to answer
for.  You've got to keep him happy.  " She laughed.

"My goodness, I've never seen him so pleased with life.  Fancy that!"

"And you knew who I was all the time."

She was overcome with secret mirth.

"You must admit I did it well.  I said, " I want a phrase book .
something to help me along with the language.  " And you hadn't a
notion.  And weren't you frightened, eh, when you thought I wasn't
going to ask you to come along and teach the children!"

"Yes," I agreed.

"And when you came I was hard put to it not to confide in you.  And he
was away in Berlin!  I couldn't wait for him to come back.  Mind you,
it's a bit more than I bargained for.  Hildegarde thought it was a mock
marriage and it would have been a lot easier if it had been.  That's
something people understand.  But married to the Duke's heir and him
having made a state marriage to a princess that's brought us closer to
Klarenbock and that being so important ... well, I don't know!"  Then
she laughed as she studied me.

"But you can't think of what's to be, can you?  You can only think of
him and that you're together again.

Well, that's how it is.  But the reckoning has to come.  What a man our
Lightning is!  They still talk about his great-great-grandfather,
Maximilian Carl.  He was a great duke and a great lover, too.  He's a
legend in these parts and I used to say to Hildegarde when Maxi used to
go off riding in the forest or practising his archery and shooting in
the courtyard, I'd say: "Look at him, Hildegarde.  There's another
Maximilian Carl.  A legend, eh?"  And so will he be.  The Duke who
found a schoolgirl in the forest and married her.  What a story!  And
that's not the end, eh?  " Her shoulders shook with secret mirth.

"We've got to wait for that.  Now what's going to happen?"  Her eyes
sparkled at the prospect.

"We shall see ... in time.  But my word, this is going to take a bit of
untangling."

The thought of the tangles stimulated her, though.  I had

never seen her quite as excited as she was on that night.

"You won't sleep, will you?"  she went on.

"No more will he.  No more will I. In any case, it's morning.  They'll
see him riding back to the schloss-some of them.

"Oh," they'll say.

"His Highness has been out for the night 1" And they'll laugh and nudge
each other and they'll say "Another Duke Maximilian Carl, he is."  They
won't know, will they, that he was with his wife.  "

I tried to speak calmly.

"We must wait, and Maximilian will know what is the best thing to
do."

"Well," she said, 'it could be your secret, you know.  You could live
here, or in one of the castles, and he could call on you.  Very
romantic like.  And no one need ever know that you were the true
duchess . because that's what you'll be soon.  The old Duke is failing
fast, believe me, and soon our Maxi will be in his shoes.  And what of
you then, eh?  And what of Wilhelmina?  "

"We shall have to see," I told her.

"Now I think I should try and sleep for an hour or two."

She took the hint and left me.  I did not sleep, of course.  I lay
awake thinking of the wonder of that night just passed and the
undecided future.

As soon as I was up Frau Graben was knocking at my door.  Her hair was
out of its curlers and was now crimped about her head; her rosy cheeks
shone and she was as lively as ever.

"I didn't think you'd sleep long," she said with a chuckle.

"I've got something for you.  A message from him.  My word, he is
impatient.

Always was when he really wanted something.  " She handed me the note
as though I were a child and she a benign nurse offering a special
treat.

Eagerly I took it.

"Read it," she said unnecessarily.  I knew she had already.

"My darling Lenchen, " I'll be in the forest at eleven o'clock at the
first copse from Klocksburg by the stream.

M.

"

It was like a command but then, I supposed indulgently, he was
accustomed to giving commands.

"You've got two hours," beamed Frau Graben.

"What of the children's lesson?"

Frau Graben flapped her hand at me.

"Bah!  The old pastor can take them through their history."  She
laughed like a conspirator.

Not that I wanted to makfe excuses.  The thought of seeing him again
was an intoxicating one.

I dressed with care, realizing that this would be the first time he
would see me in daylight for nine years; but the prospect of seeing him
made me radiant.

I saddled my mare and rode out.  I found him waiting at the appointed
spot on a white horse and I was taken back all those years to when he
had loomed out of the mist, I said: "You have changed very little,"
"You have grown more attractive," he replied.

"Is that really true?"

"Experience has left its mark.  You are more exciting.  There is so
much I want to discover.  The young girl from the Damenstift was a
promise .  now that promise is fulfilled."

He leaped from his horse and lifted me down from mine.  We stood in a
close embrace and I was so gloriously happy that I should have liked to
hold that moment for ever: the forest smells; the faint sound of the
breeze as it moved in the trees; the distant lowing of cows and the
tinkle of the bells about their necks.

"Never to part again," he said.

"What is going to happen, Maximilian?"

"I don't know ... yet.  There is so much to consider.  I have been
trying to work out a way, but last night I could think of nothing but
our being together again."

"That's how it was with me."

We tied up the horses, and, arms entwined, walked through the forest as
we talked.

Here was the position: He had thought me dead; he had seen the charred
remains of the lodge; he had listened to the account Ernst had given
him and believed it.  He had not cared after that what had happened but
he had had an abhorrence for marriage with anyone else.  His father had
tried to persuade him, implore him and even threaten him with the loss
of the dukedom unless he married.  Klarenbock had been an antagonistic
state and more powerful than Rochenstein.  The marriage had been one of
the clauses in a treaty, and a few years ago he had allowed himself to
be drawn into it.

"That is the story, Lenchen.  If only I had known ..."

"And while I was in Oxford looking after Aunt Caroline, you were
thinking of me, longing for me, as I was for you ..."

^f I had come to England to look for you I should have found you as
Graben did.  I can't forgive myself for not doing that.  "

"But everything seemed so clear to you.  You had always trusted Ernst
and there was the burned-out lodge.  And surely there was something /
could have done?  But it's no use blaming ourselves ... no use looking
back.  I can forget all that now."

"We'll put it behind us, Lenchen.  It is what we have to do now that is
important.  My father is very feeble.  Trouble with Klarenbock now
would be fatal.  I believe the French, too, are determined to make war
on Prussia.  If they did all the German states would be involved.  They
say that Napoleon III has the best army in Europe and he is determined
on con quest."

"Does that mean that if there was war you would have to fight ..."

"I am the Commander-in-Chief of our army.  Oh, Lenchen, I've frightened
you.  There may not be war.  Let us hope not.  But we must waste no
more time.  We have been apart too long.  But I do believe the French
are determined on war.  You have seen our people.  They are gay and
pleasure-loving; but we of Rochenstein are not typical of our race.

The Prussians under Bismarck have become a militant people.  His slogan
of "blood and iron" speaks for itself.  We shall defend ourselves if
the French should attack us, and military opinion through out Europe is
that war is imminent.  We have a treaty with the Prussians.  It was to
ratify this that I was so long in Berlin.  But I will not bore you with
politics.  "

"They are your concern and therefore they must be mine."

"Yes," he said solemnly.

"Now that we have found each other you will share my life.  I shall
bring my burdens to you.  I will discuss affairs with you.  But our
task now is to make plans.  We must.  I long to have you with me,
Lenchen, all the time ... and openly.  But I fear this is not the
moment to let it be known.  I almost told my father this morning but he
was so ill ... so feeble.  He is overcome by the burdens of state.  He
is afraid of Napoleon.  Only this morning he mentioned Klarenbock and
said that since I had married Wilhelmina at least we need not expect
trouble from that quarter.  I fear, Lenchen, that my father cannot have
long to live."

I understood well the effect such an announcement would have on an
ageing man weighed down with responsibilities, and for the time being
it was enough for me that I had found Maximilian.

I said: "Let us wait awhile.  This is something which cannot be decided
in a few minutes.  But the Princess ..."

"A marriage of convenience ... that was no marriage " How will she take
this?  "

"I am unsure.  I have always been unsure with Wilhelmina.  It was a
marriage of convenience for her as for me.  There is no doubt that when
she learns that her marriage was no true marriage she will feel ...
degraded.  There may well be trouble.  We have to face that, Lenchen.
We must give a lot of thought to how it should be done."

"With as little heartbreak as possible to everyone concerned," I
agreed.  I longed to be with him, to share his life completely, but I
could not be entirely happy, I knew, and nor could he if, by making the
truth known, it brought about the death of his ailing father and
discredit to the Princess.  I was conscious of a twinge of jealousy for
that proud woman whom I had briefly glimpsed and who had been accepted
as his wife.  Proud, cold and royal as she was, I could imagine what
her feelings would be when she was confronted with the fact that she, a
princess, was no true wife.  Oh yes, indeed we had to tread with the
utmost care.

"For the moment," decided Maximilian, 'it is best for us to keep this
secret.  I shall come to Klocksburg tonight.  I shall think of nothing
but you and how best we can arrange our lives.  I long for us to be
together.  "

"In the meantime," I replied, 'we shall have to be careful.  It would
never do for your father or the Princess to learn the truth through
another source.  You will visit me frequently .  Promise.  "

"I swear it and never did I more gladly swear anything."

"And we must act as we have been acting ... as though things were as
before."

"Ah," he said tenderly, "I can see what a help you will be to me,
Lenchen."

"It will be my mission in life ... to care for you, to give you every
comfort."

"Ah, dearest, when I think of all those wasted years ..."

"Don't think of them.  They are past.  The future is before us. Perhaps
they have not been entirely wasted.  We have learned something from
them.  To be with you again .  , .  to have found you ... I care for
little beyond that."

We clung together; we could not bear to separate.  He wanted to ride
back to Klocksburg with me, but I thought the children would see him
and wonder why we were together.  I pointed out to him that we had to
be careful.  The future was gloriously inviting, but to reach it we had
to hurt other people.  I wanted-and I knew Maximilian did too-to hurt
them as little as possible.

So we said goodbye, with assurances that that night we should be
together.

I turned towards Klocksburg.  I didn't want to leave the forest yet.  I
was considering our problem, trying to discover a solution, when the
sudden rustle of undergrowth startled me;

the sound of a horse's hoofs not far off was unmistakable.  For the
moment I thought he was coming back.  But it was the Count who came
through the trees.

"Miss Trant!"  he cried.

"I am charmed to meet you.  But I do wonder why you have deserted your
duties to ride through the forest at this hour of the morning."

I replied: "The children are busy with the Pastor."

"I hope their English is not suffering."

"I think you will find great improvement if you care to question them
in that language," "One thing.  Miss Trant, you have great confidence
in your own powers."

"Confidence is necessary to succeed in teaching."

"As in most things, I think you will agree."

"I dare say you are right."

"You are gracious this morning.  Miss Trant."

"I hope I am never ungracious."

"Shall we say there is a little touch of asperity now and then?"

"I had not noticed it " I did.  Perhaps because I was the target.  I
wonder whether you served it to my cousin.  I think not, from what I
observed.  Oh yes, I did see you.  You seem to have become well
acquainted in a short time.  Unless of course you knew each other
previously.  "

"Your cousin ...?"  I murmured to gain time.

"His Royal Highness, the Prince.  I have the honour to be his
cousin."

"Oh ... congratulations."

"Condolences would be more acceptable.  Imagine if I had been the
Duke's son instead of that of his brother .  ; " Why should I imagine
it?  "

"Then you could picture me in his position.  Perhaps that would mean
you would be as affable to me as to him."

I wondered how much he had seen, from where he had been watching us;

and I thought that there would always be people to watch the actions of
a man in Maximilian's position.

I said: The Prince and I discovered that we had met some years ago.  I
was a pupil at one of the Damenstifts in his country.  "

"And you came back to us.  That is a compliment.  Miss Trant, I am
sure.

You must have liked our country very much.  "

"I find it very interesting."

"I should like to show you my own castle.  You must bring the children
over to it one day.  Better still, you could come alone."

"It is kind of you to suggest it."

"But you think it unwise to come?"

Did I say that?  "

"You don't have to speak always for me to know what you are implying.

Your cool English manner does that very adequately.  "

"I am sure you must find it extremely unattractive.  So I won't burden
you with my presence ..."

"On the contrary, I find it ... interesting, and I assure you that if I
found your company a burden I should not seek it."

"Have you sought it?"

"But surely you know the answer to that?"

"I'm afraid I don't, Herr Count."

"I should like us to be better acquainted.  I really don't see why we
shouldn't be on such pleasant terms as you are with my cousin?  We are
very much alike.  You must have noticed it."

"There is a facial resemblance."

"More than that.  Some can't tell our voices apart.  We have the same
arrogant manner, don't you think?  We have the same vices.  He has
always been a little more diplomatic than I. It's rather necessary in
his case.  He suffers restrictions which don't bother me.  In some ways
it is better to be the Duke's nephew than his son."

"I dare say you are right."

He had brought his horse close to mine and caught my arm.

"I have more freedom," he said, 'to do what I want.  "

"I am sure you find that very gratifying.  Now I must get back."

"I'll ride with you."

I could not refuse to ride with him and we went back to Klocksburg.

"It will be a surprise for the children," he said.

"I'll take them out.  I want to see how they are progressing with their
English.  How is your special protege?"

"What do you mean by my special one?"

"Now, Miss Trant, you are prevaricating.  You know I refer to Master
Fritz.  Do you remember how concerned you were that he should not ride
and how, because you pleaded so prettily, I gave way to your
request."

"I remember your realizing that the boy had a chill and was better at
home."

"I realized no such thing; and boys who are going to grow into strong
men should not be coddled by devoted but mis guided teachers of
English.  I agreed that he should stay behind because you asked it, and
you must believe.  Miss Trant, that I am very anxious to please you,
although if my efforts were so misconstrued and quickly forgotten I
might not consider it necessary to make them."

There was a cruel smile on his lips.  I trembled for Fritz.  There was
something sadistic about this man which could be terrifying.  Was he
implying that unless I became what he would call 'friendly' he would
wreak his frustration and anger on Fritz because he knew that was what
would hurt me most?

I could think of nothing to say.  I could not plead with him now.  I
had an idea that if I did he would make conditions.

I was glad when we reached the schloss.

The children had seen our arrival and Dagobert came running out to do
homage to his father.

"And Miss, where have you been?"  he demanded.

"Miss has been enjoying the solitude of the forest," said the Count.

I took my mare to the stables and went in.  I wanted to see Fritz.

I found him in his room.  I said: "Your father is here and he is taking
you and Dagobert riding."

I was pleased to see that he did not look nearly so frightened as he
used to.  I had done that for him.  I had assured him that if one
feared something one must look it straight in the face and try to
overcome that fear.  He was very familiar with his pony, and it was
only when he showed fear that the pony sensed it.  If he felt perfectly
at home, so would the pony.  I had driven home that lesson.

Half an hour later I was in the schoolroom watching them ride away when
Frau Graben came in.

"There they go," she said, 'off to the hunt, I dare say.  My word,
Fritzi sits his pony well.  He seems to have lost some of his fear of
his father.  "

I nodded, smiling.

She looked at me anxiously.

"I saw you ride back with Fredy."

"Yes, I met him in the forest."

"It was Max you went to meet."

"Yes."

"And you saw him?"

I nodded.

"Well, I expect you'll be leaving Klocksburg soon."

"I've not made any plans yet."

"You will," she said confidently.  Then she looked less happy.

"Did Fredy see you with Max?"

"Yes, he did."

She stuck out her lower lip, a habit which implied consternation.

"You'd better be careful.  Fredy always wanted what Maxi had.  The fact
that it was Maxi's gave it special value in his eyes.  The trouble I
had with that boy!  There was a lovely little horse and carriage Maxi
had.  His mother gave it to him one Christmas.  They had their own
tables at Christmas.  That was the great day of their lives.  They'd
talk about it for weeks.  And then there would be their tables with
their little fir trees all lighted with candles.  Their presents were
on the big tree and there was this carriage and horses for Maxi.  It
was a fine thing.  It was painted like the royal carriage with the
crown on it and the Duke's arms and Fredy saw it and wanted it.  That
night he took it away and hid it.  We found it in his cupboard and back
it went to Maxi and the next day we found it smashed up.  The wicked
boy had destroyed it rather than that Maxi should have it.  I've never
forgotten it.

I don't think he's changed much There was a faint glint of anxiety
behind the bland smile.  She was afraid.  She wanted me to understand
that because the Count was interested in me and had discovered that
Maximilian and I were in love, he was now quite determined to become my
lover.

Perhaps I should have been warned but I could not take this threat
seriously.  If I were careful never to be alone with him, there was
nothing he could do.  I was not a horse and carriage to be smashed,
though he could of course make life very unpleasant.

I was in my room when they came back.  I went to the window and saw
them.  My first glance was for Fritz; he was happily sitting his pony
and riding with ease.

All I had to do was make him understand that he must not show fear.  It
seemed he had learned that lesson.

But I soon discovered from Frau Graben that the Count had decided the
boys should now have done with ponies.  They were to ride horses.  He
had been to the stables and chosen which they should have.

I knew something of the horses there and when I realized which was to
be Fritz's mount, I was afraid.  It was one of the friskiest horses in
the stables.

What sort of man was this who could endanger his son's life on the
pretext that he was making a man of him and at the same time showing
his displeasure towards a woman who had flouted him?

I had to try to see him against his own background.  Was I perhaps
unable to visualize what the rather wild upbringing had made of him?

The outlook here would be very different from that in a peaceful
English town.  That was why everything seemed a little fantastic and
unreal.  These men took what they wanted and didn't count the cost to
others.  They were so ruthless that even when they loved they could
deceive with a mock marriage.  What were they capable of when they were
prompted by lust alone?

My fears for Fritz did at least stop my brooding exclusively on my own
problem.

I went into the town that afternoon while the children were having a
drawing lesson from a young artist who came up to the schloss to teach
them once a week.  I saw the hat in the window and afterwards I thought
it

was fate or instinct or something like that which led me to that
window.

It was a boy's hat in pale grey rather like a bowler and there was a
small green feather stuck into the ribbon.  Beneath the hat was a
notice.

"The Safety Riding Hat'.

I went into the shop.  Yes, it was designed to give extra protection to
the head.  The hatter had heard only that day that a-young fellow had
fallen from his horse and avoided a serious accident because he was
wearing his safety riding hat.

I bought it.

If I were going to give Fritz a present I must buy gifts for the
others.  The toy-maker's shop was always a delight to all the
children.

There were cuckoo clocks and dolls' houses and dolls' furniture,
humming-tops and toy horses and riding whips.  It was not difficult to
find something.  For Dagobert I bought what was called a weather
detector.  It consisted of a little wooden house with two figures, a
man dressed in sombre clothes and a woman in bright colours.  The woman
came out when the sun was going to shine, the man when it was going to
rain. I guessed that would please him.  Liesel's gift was a
double-jointed doll.

When I returned to the schloss the children were back from their art
lesson, which had been given out of doors.  They were delighted with
their gifts.

Fritz put on his hat.

"It's a safety hat," I told him.

"Is it magic?"

"It means that while you're wearing it you'll be much safer than you
would be without it."

He regarded it with awe.  Dagobert was delighted with his weather-house
but his eyes did rest rather longingly on the safety hat.  It was
astonishing really, because I had thought a toy would have been much
more desirable than an article of clothing; but it seemed that they had
already endowed this hat with some special magic.

Inside it was a silk tab on which was inscribed the words "Safety Hat'.
They read it with awe.  Fritz put it on and wouldn't take it off.

It's really for riding," I told him; but he wanted to keep it on all
the time.

I wished that I had bought them both one.

"Why is it a present day?"  asked Liesel.

"Oh, just because I felt like it," I told her.

"Do they have present days any sort of time in England?"  asked
Fritz.

"Well, yes, any time can be present-giving time."

"I want to go to England," announced Dagobert.

I was at the turret window watching for Maximilian to come.  Across the
valley I could see the lights of the ducal schloss, and I thought of
that woman who, legend had it, had thrown herself from this window
because she had discovered that she had been tricked into marriage and
could not bear to go on living since she had been so deceived.  How
different was my position!  I glowed with exultation because he loved
me so much that he had jeopardized his future for my sake.  I had lived
in this community long enough to realize the feudal state of life here.
The people's rulers belonged to them; they were powerful overlords yet
they existed in power only through the approbation of those they
ruled.

I knew that I could never allow Maximilian to suffer through me.

When he had married me (and I shuddered to think how easily he could
have followed the custom of his ancestors and gone through a mock
ceremony, for how should I have known the difference?  ) he had proved
his all-embracing love for me.  I was determined to show mine for
him.

At last I saw him.  He came alone without attendants.  I leaned from
the window and caught my breath because of the sheer drop below, and
again I was thinking of the desperation of that sad woman who had been
less fortunate.

I could hear his footsteps on the stair.  I was at the door to greet
him and we were in each other's arms.

In the early morning before he left, we talked again of our future.  '
He had wondered whether to tell Wilhelmina and had come to the
conclusion that his father should be the first to know.

"Again and again I am on the point of telling him.  I want to take you
to him.  I want to tell him everything that happened.  Yet I fear the
effects of the shock."

"And Wilhelmina?"  I said.

"I think a great deal of Wilhelmina."

"It was a union of convenience.  Since the birth of the child we have
lived apart.  I was grateful for that reason when the child came ... so
was she because it meant that we need not live together."

"I had forgotten the child."

"The complications are so great," went on Maximilian.

"It maddens me.

It might have been so different.  I was once on the point of telling my
father what had happened to try to make him understand that I had met
the only woman I could love and had married her.  He could have borne
it then.  There would have been trouble and because I believed you dead
I saw no point in raising it.  These people had lied to me.  I shan't
rest until I know why.  I shall have Ilse brought here.  I shall
discover from her what it all meant and why she and Ernst interfered in
my life.  "

"You had commanded them to interfere in the first place."

"I had commanded them to bring you to me.  They were the witnesses of
our marriage.  But they lied to you and to me.  Why?  I shall soon
know, for she is to be brought here.  We will confront her and have the
truth."

"Do you think she will come?"

"My cousin has to visit Klarenbock on state business.  I have told him
that I want Ilse, if still living, to be brought here."

"Your cousin?"

"Count Frederick."

I felt uneasy.  The Count always made me feel so.

"Does he know the reason for which you want Ilse?"

"Good God no.  I wouldn't trust Frederick with that.  Heaven knows what
use he'd make of it.  He's getting as troublesome to me as his father
was to mine."

"And he is the one whom you have asked to bring back Ilse!"

"She would know she must obey him.  She might even think it is her
half-sister Wilhelmina who wishes to see her.  I have not specifically
said it is I."

"How I wish she were here now!  I should like to meet her face to
face.

There is so much I want to ask her.  She seemed so kind to me.  I don't
understand why she should have tried to ruin my life.  "

"We will discover," said Maximilian.

The dawn was with us and it was time for him to leave.  How happy we
could be even though we could not look more than a day or so ahead and
had come no nearer to finding a

solution to our problem.

The next day Frieda, the wife of Prinzstein, the coachman, who had
joined the two maids we already had in the fortress, brought in letters
from England-one from Anthony, one from Aunt Matilda and one from Mrs.
Greville.

Anthony wanted to know how I was faring.  It was a long time since he
had heard.

"Is everything well there, Helena?  If not, give it up and come back. I
miss you very much.  There's no one to talk to as I can talk to you.

The parents are very good of course, but it isn't quite the same.

Every day I look for a letter from you which will tell me that you have
had enough of it.  Come home.  I do understand that you are restless.
What happened to you there makes that very understandable.

Don't you think that dwelling on the past only keeps it alive?

Wouldn't it be better to try to forget it?  Do come home, where I shall
do everything possible to make you happy.

My love as ever, Anthony.  *

What peaceful calm that conjured up: the new vicarage with those lovely
green lawns which had been maturing for more than two hundred years;
the lovely house which was Elizabethan and built to represent the
letter E as so many had been during that Queen's reign.  A fascinating
house with its buttery and stiUroom, its walled garden, its little
orchard which would be a glory of pink and white blossom in May.  How
far away it seemed from the schloss in the mountains!

Suppose I wrote to Anthony and told him I had found Maximilian.

Perhaps I owed that to him.  I did not want him to go on thinking that
one day I would return to him.  But I must not do so yet.  Maximilian's
father must be the first to know.

There was a letter from Aunt Matilda too.

"How are you getting on, Helena?  Have you had enough of that teaching
job yet?  Albert says he reckons you'll be back before the summer's
over.  The winter wouldn't be good there.  I believe they have a lot of
snow.  Take care of your chest.  There are some that say mountains are
good for

chests, but chests are funny things.  We miss you in the shop.  On
busy days Albert says "We could do with Helena, particularly in the
Foreign Department."  He works like a slave, which isn't right with one
kidney a'

How those letters brought it all back I And Mrs.  Greville's:

"We miss you very much.  When are you coming back?  It's been such a
lovely spring.  You should see the shrubs in the vicarage garden.  And
now the lavender's a picture.  The grass was a bit trampled by people
at the fete, but it was a great success.  Anthony is very popular.

There are so many willing helpers.  A very nice lady, a Mrs. 
Chartwell, has come to live close by.  She has a pleasant daughter who
is being so useful in the parish.  Anthony was saying what a great help
she is.

She's quite nice-looking too, is Grace Chartwell, gentle personality,
gets on with people .  "

I smiled.  In other words, a perfect vicar's wife.  I understood Mrs.
Greville was telling me: Come back before it's too late.

A hush had fallen over the town, over the schloss and over the
mountains.  The Duke was very ill.

There was a note from Maximilian for me which told me that he was
unable to leave the schloss.  The doctors were in attendance on his
father and it was feared that the end was not far off.

Frau Graben couldn't hide her excitement.

"Our Maxi will soon be Duke," she whispered to me.

I avoided her eyes.

The children were affected by the general solemnity for a short while,
but they soon forgot it.

Fritz was rarely seen without his hat although Dagobert had long grown
tired of telling people whether it was going to rain or shine and one
leg of Liesel's doll had come off.

I should have given them all hats.

Through the next day the Duke lingered on.  In the streets there was a
hushed silence; people stood about on corners talking in whispers.

He had been a good ruler, they said, but ailing for a long time.  It
was a mercy they had a strong Prince to follow, with

the country and the surrounding states in such a turmoil.

Those days of anxiety over the Duke were not allowed to interfere with
the life of the schloss.

In the courtyard twice a week the children practised archery when other
boys of noble families came in to join them, and very often there were
as many as ten or eleven taking lessons.  It had been considered that
there would be greater competition for the boys if others were there;
and there was always a great deal of activity and noise in the
courtyard where they practised.

I was in my room when Fritz came running in.  He was carrying his hat
and protruding from it was an arrow.

"It hit me on the head," he said, 'but it went into my hat.  It'll have
to be pulled out carefully or it might tear.  Herr Gronken said I could
bring it to you when I told him you would know how to get it out.  Oh,
Miss, do be careful with my magic hat.  "

I took it in my hands: the thought immediately came to me that if he
had not been wearing a hat, the arrow would have struck him in the
head.

I withdrew the arrow very carefully and laid it on the table.

We examined the hat together.  It had made a hole in the fabric.

"Never mind," I said to Fritz, 'that makes it more interesting, more
your very own.  Battle scars are signs of honour.  "

That pleased him.  He put the hat on again and went off to finish his
lesson.

I picked up the arrow.  The point was sharp.  It had to be, of course,
to hit the target.  What struck me was that there was a faint
discoloration at the tip.  I wondered what it was.

I thought no more about it then, for a few hours later news came that
the Duke was dead.

All the flags in the town were flying at half mast.

"Of course it had to come," said Frau Graben.

"This will make a difference to our Prince.  My goodness, he'll be busy
for a few days.

And then of course there'll be the funeral.  That will be an occasion
for sure.  "

A disturbing incident happened.  The following afternoon Dagobert went
into the forest on his new mount.  We were unperturbed during the first
hour or so when he didn't return,

but when it grew dark and he had still not come back we grew
alarmed.

Frau Graben sent the servants out to look for him.  Herr Prinzstein,
the coachman, formed a party which he divided into two and they went
off in separate ways.

We sat together in Frau Graben's little sitting-room and anxiously
talked of what could have happened to him.

Fritz came in and said: "My hat's gone.  My magic hat.  I've looked
everywhere."

"You can't fret about a hat when your brother's lost," said Frau
Graben.

"I can," said Fritz.

"I think he's taken it."

"Oh, Fritz, why do you say that?"  I asked.

"He's always trying to take it."

"Never mind about that hat," I said.

"Let's think of Dagobert.  Have you any idea where he's gone?"

"He likes to ride out to the Island of Graves."

While we were worrying over the mystery of what had happened to
Dagobert there was a shout from outside.

"He's here."

We rushed out and there was Dagobert, hatless and sheepish.  He had a
wild story to tell.  He had been kidnapped.

Frau Graben said: "Never mind about that now.  You're damp."

"It was misty," said Dagobert.

"So we'll get those clothes off and you'll get in a hot bath with
mustard.  That's it.  You can't beat mustard.  And some of my soup and
cordial."

Dagobert was bursting to tell of his adventures but he was shivering
with cold so he allowed himself to be immersed in the mustard bath, and
it was later when wrapped in a warm dressing-gown after having drunk
hot soup that he told us what had happened.

"I was in the forest," he said, 'when two men came up to me.  They had
masks on their faces.  One of them came on either side of me and they
got hold of my horse's bridle.  I wasn't frightened.  I said: "Who are
you?  I'll kill you if you touch me."  So I drew my sword .  "

"Now, Dagobert," said Frau Graben, 'no stories please.  We want to know
what really happened.  "

"It was a sort of sword ..."

"You know it was nothing of the sort.  Now tell us what really
happened."

n. o. s. m. 225 h

"They made me get off my horse and I lost... my hat, and I said I must
find my hat ..."

"Your father will' want to know what really happened," said Frau
Graben, 'so you'd better try to remember.  And no stories about swords
because you haven't got one.  "

Dagobert regarded us soberly.

"They led my horse away right into the forest where the trees were
thick ... it was near the lake ... and I think they were going to kill
me, honestly, Miss ... honestly, Frau Graben.  And I was frightened
because I'd lost the hat and the magic wouldn't be there without it
.."

I said: "You were wearing Fritz's hat?"

"Well, I thought he wouldn't mind just once ... and I said, " I've lost
Fritz's hat.  Miss bought it for him.  I must find it because it's not
mine.  I only borrowed it.  " And they said:

"You are Fritz and it's your hat."  And I said "No, I'm Dagobert .."

Then they whispered together and after a long while let me go.  "

"My goodness," said Frau Graben, 'it must have been someone playing a
sort of game.  There are people who think that kind of thing funny. 
I'd flay them alive.  Frightening the life out of people.  "

"Oh, I wasn't frightened," said Dagobert.

"I would have killed them both.  I soon escaped.  It was only because I
lost my way in the mist that I was late."

We let him go on boasting of what he would have done.  I was silent, so
was Frau Graben.

A sudden fear had taken possession of me.

When the children were in bed I went down to Frau Graben's
sitting-room.

She was sitting thoughtfully staring into the fire.

"Oh, Miss Trant," she said, with that little smirk which always
appeared when she used my name, "I was just thinking of coming up to
you."

"What do you make of it?"  I asked.

"You never know with Dagobert.  He might have decided not to come in,
have forgotten the time and then try to make excuses about masked
men."

"Oh, I don't think so."

"You believe two masked men really took him away.  For what purpose?"

"Because they thought he was Fritz."

She stared at me in blank amazement.

"But why Fritz?"

"I don't know.  But he was wearing Fritz's hat.  Now Fritz has rarely
been seen without that hat since I gave it to him.  It's possible that,
seeing Dagobert riding in the forest wearing it, these men thought he
was Fritz."

That's very likely true, but why should they want to take Fritz away?
"

"I don't understand it.  Frau Graben, will you come to my room.  I want
to show you something."

When we were there I took the arrow out of a drawer and laid it on the
bed.

"What's this, dear?"

"It's an arrow which was aimed at Fritz.  The hat I bought for him
stopped its penetrating his skin."

"It's one of the arrows they use for their practice."

"Yes, and it was aimed at Fritz while they were doing their practice in
the courtyard."

"Who aimed it?"

"I don't know.  I wish I did."

"They wouldn't do much harm, surely."

"In certain circumstances they could."

"You're being a bit mysterious.  Miss Trant."

"Look closely at the tip.  That's the part that penetrated Fritz's
hat.

Do you notice the tip?  "

She bent over it and when she raised her eyes to mine her expression
had lost its habitual cosiness.

"Why," she said, 'it's been dipped in something.  "

"Do you know what?"

"I've an idea.  I remember in the old days they used to hunt the wild
boars and stags with arrows.  They dipped the tips in some sort of
solution ..."

"Poison," I said.

She nodded.

"I've seen them.  It leaves a stain like this."

I felt rather uneasy.

"If someone deliberately aimed a poisoned arrow at Fritz; if two men
tried to kidnap him, what does it mean?"

"You tell me.  Miss Trant, for I can't say."

"I wish I knew."

"Perhaps we're mistaken about that stain.  It could have been something
else.  The children do aim rather wildly now and then.  Someone might
have hit Fritz unintentionally."

"And then tried to kidnap him?"

"But it was Dagobert."

"Dagobert in mistake for Fritz."

"Well, Miss, it does sound a bit like romancing to me."

"I think these two things happening together make it too much of a
coincidence."

"What can we do about it?"

"We must watch over Fritz.  We must make sure that any other attempt
does not succeed.  That.  hat I bought for him has saved him twice.
It's been a warning to us ... or so it seems.  And if we are wrong ...
if the arrow was just a stray shot and the discoloration was not made
by poison, if it was merely two bandits who decided to kidnap one of
the Count's sons and then thought better of it... well then, no harm
wil] be done."

"I can see that you are really concerned, Miss Trant.  You can rest
assured that I will do everything I can to help you watch over
Fritz."

A letter came from Maximilian.  He wanted to see me at the royal
schloss and Frau Graben was to come with me.  He thought it would be
less conspicuous if we came together.

Frau Graben was beaming with satisfaction when she came to my room.

"A command from the Duke," she chuckled.

"I thought that wouldn't be long in coming.  We'll leave in half an
hour.  Pastor Kratz will stay here with the children for the morning
and Frieda's a good girl.  I've told her to keep her eyes on them.  You
can trust Frieda.  It's always a good thing to have wives and husbands
working for the same household.

It makes a certain stability .  or that's my experience.  "

She went on to tell me how Prinzstein the coachman had asked if there
was a place for his wife Frieda and how she had decided that there was
work enough to the fortress for her because Ella had developed an
unexpected talent for the concocting of wine and cordials and she could
make use of that.

I believed she was talking just to tease me.  She knew how impatient I
was to prepare for the journey.

We skirted the town and took the road up to the ducal schloss.  I had
never been so near it before, having seen it only from the windows of
Klocksburg and from the town.

As we approached I was aware of its magnificence.  It seemed to rise
out of a wooded park and one wall seemed like a continuation of the
mountainside.  Above us loomed the

great towers and turrets; impregnable in grey stone which had stood
against time for hundreds of years.  I looked up at the Katzenturm and
imagined the boiling oil tumbling down on any invaders.

At the gates of the castle soldiers in their uniforms stood on duty.

They glared at us as our carriage approached and when Frau Graben
called out "Hello, Sergeant!"  I saw them visibly relax.

"We're here on orders," she cried with a chuckle, and we were allowed
to pass through the gates and into a courtyard.

"My goodness," chuckled Frau Graben, 'this reminds me of old times.

You see that window?  That's where my nurseries were.  "

I thought: There is a child up there now.  His child!  Perhaps he is
watching us.  He in his turn has become the heir to all this.

Frau Graben walked with the confidence of one who knows her way.  More
soldiers stood at attention at the great oak door.  They looked at us
intently.  Frau Graben grinned at them and I saw the answering
response. Her position at the schloss in the old days must have given
her special privileges.

"We've had orders to come here," she announced happily.

A soldier came forward.  I remembered Sergeant Franck who had been
present when I first saw the Processional Cross.

He bowed to us both.

"Will you come this way, ladies," he asked.

Frau Graben nodded.

"And how are the children?"  she asked.

"And the new baby?"

"Everything well."

And Frau Franck?  "

"Very well, thank you."

"Was it a good confinement?"

"Fairly comfortable.  It was because she was not so much afraid this
time."

Frau Graben nodded.

"This is the hunting room," she said.

I realized that.  There were implements on the wall-guns and spears and
the heads of stuffed animals.  The hunting room in the Randhausburg at
Klocksburg was a replica of this one.  We went through another room and
another.  The ceilings were lofty; each had the old Gothic panelling
and circular windows some with window-seats looking over the town and
beyond the valley to Klocksburg.

In the Rittersaal there was a huge pillar round which had been painted
a tree so lifelike that it looked like a real one.  I noticed that
lettering in red and green had been added.

Seeing me look at it, Frau Graben explained.

"It's the family tree.

The male line is in scarlet, the female in green.  "

Had I not been so eager to see Maximilian I should have enjoyed
examining that tree.  I told myself that in the near future I should
have an opportunity of doing so, and that my name would be added to
it.

We mounted a staircase and facing us was a door on which was painted
the royal arms and the flag of the country.

These were the ducal apartments.

Sergeant Franck opened the door and we were in a thickly carpeted
corridor.  Frau Graben was invited to step into a room, which she did
with a grimace, and I was alone with Sergeant Franck.

He led me along the corridor to a door; he knocked; Maximilian bade him
enter.  The door was opened and Sergeant Franck, clicking his heels and
bowing smartly, announced that I was there.

Then the door shut on me and we flew to each other and clung together
with that wonder which the appearance of each other never failed to
inspire.

"I had to see you," he said at length.

"Hence this ceremony.  Nothing I can do avoids it now."

His presence banished the faint depression which my walk through the
castle to this room had given me.  When I had passed the soldiers at
the gate and entered the great rooms I had felt years of tradition
close in on me.  I understood then how difficult it was going to be for
Maximilian to bring me forward as his wife when his people believed him
to be married to Wilhelmina.  I understood then how right it was
particularly at this time-to preserve a secrecy.

He held me against him.

"It seems so long, Lenchen."

"A day and a night is like a year when you are not with me."

"It shall not be so much longer.  When the funeral obsequies are over,
then I must act."

"Be careful, my love.  Remember that you are now the ruler of this
state."

"It's a very small one, Lenchen.  It is not like France ... or Prussia
even."

"But to these people it is as important ... as important as France to
the French or Prussia to the Prussians."

"The situation is explosive at the moment.  It always is when a ruler
dies and a new one takes over.  There are inevitable changes and the
people are wary of them.  They suspect a young ruler until he proves
himself to be a worthy successor to the old one.  My father was
popular.  You know that my uncle rose against him and tried to depose
him.  That was at the time of our marriage.  You remember Ludwig's
followers blew up the lodge at that inopportune moment.  If they had
not our lives would have been different."

I gripped his arm in my sudden fear for him.

"Be careful," I said.

"As never before," he assured me.

"There is so much to live for now.

My cousin has returned.  He could not find Ilse.  She seems to have
disappeared completely.  No one could give him any news of her.  "

"Could she be dead?"

"We should have known if she had been.  As soon as I can get away I
shall go myself.  I shall find out what has become of her and if she is
alive I shall have the truth from her."

"Perhaps it is not so important now that we have found each other."

"Oh, Lenchen, how I long to have you here with me!  When I ride out it
is you I want beside me.  You will find so much that is ceremonious. It
is not an easy way of life."

"If we are together I shall want nothing more."

The meeting was over all too soon.  It must necessarily be short.  I
realized that already his position had changed.  He was no longer as
free even as he had been.

We found it difficult to leave each other.  He said that he would, if
it were possible, come to Klocksburg that night.  If he could not we
must arrange for Frau Graben to bring me to the ducal schloss, although
too frequent visits would give rise to comment and he did not want
people to draw the kind of conclusions which they certainly would.  He
wanted everyone to know that I was his wife, and nothing would content
him but that.

It was what I had wanted, but I was aware as he was of the delicacy of
the matter and that we must tread with the utmost care.

Frau Graben was waiting for me somewhat impatiently and Sergeant Franck
escorted us back to the carriage.

"Tell your wife that I'm happy to hear she came through all

right.  I've got a bottle of cordial for her.  I shall see that she
gets it in the next few days.  "

Sergeant Franck thanked Frau Graben; and we got into the carriage and
rattled down the hillside to the town and then back to Klocksburg.

In the church the Duke was lying in state.  I took the children down to
see his catafalque which was displayed in the church.  This was draped
in black velvet on which the Duke's emblem had been embroidered in gold
thread.  Candles burned at either end of the coffin and the church was
full of the scent of flowers.

The light filtered through the stained glass windows and in the
semi-gloom people filed past the coffin.

The children were suitably solemn and I suspect rather relieved when we
came out into the sunshine.

People whispered together.

"How impressive it was!"

"Poor Carl, he was a long time dying."

"The Prince will have to settle down now that he's Duke."

"Oh, he was serious enough.  Let him enjoy himself while he's young."

Women!  You all make excuses for him.  Oh yes, he'll have to settle
down now.  If there's war .  "

My heart was touched with a cold fear at the thought.  He would have to
go off to fight at the head of his army.  I shivered.  I could not bear
to lose him to war.

The children quickly recovered from the gloom of the church.

"Let's go and look at the shops," suggested Dagobert.

"Is it present time in England now?"  Liesel wanted to know.

I answered that birthdays and Christmas were really time for
presents.

But there were Easter eggs at Easter.

"It's not Easter now," said Fritz.

I said I would buy them all a safety hat.  What about that?

"There was only one magic one," sighed Fritz sadly.

"And Dagobert lost that."

"I didn't really lose it.  A troll came and picked it off my head."

"There aren't any real trolls, are there.  Miss?"  pleaded Fritz.

"Oh no, they disappeared long ago."

"Dagobert just lost my hat."

"I want a magic hat," wailed Liesel.

They should all have one, I said.  And perhaps they would all turn out
to be magic.

So we went and bought hats-even little Liesel had hers, and the
children enjoyed swaggering along with them, glancing sideways at
themselves in shop windows.  They laughed at each other until I
reminded them that the town was in mourning for the dead Duke.

"It's not a real mourning," Dagobert told me, 'because there's a new
Duke.  He's my uncle in a way.  "

"Mine too," said Fritz.

"And mine," insisted Liesel.

"Of course," whispered Dagobert, 'it ought to be my Papa who is Duke.
"

"Now Dagobert," I said, 'that's treason.  "

Fritz looked alarmed, but Dagobert was rather delighted with the
prospect of treason.  I wondered where he had picked up the idea that
his father ought to be in Maximilian's place.

When we reached the schloss they played a new game: lying in state.

Dagobert thought he ought to be the Duke in the coffin, but that was
very dull; he much preferred the game of robbers in the forest.

All through the morning the bells tolled from my room.  I saw the flags
of the royal schloss flying at half mast; our own was lowered in the
same way.

The children were excited, though silent.  They had been caught up in
the general air of solemnity.  Frau Graben and I were taking them into
town to see the funeral procession.

"We'll go early," she said, 'you won't be able to move in the town in a
few hours' time.  "

It had been arranged that we should see the procession from the window
of the inn where we had seen that other cavalcade which was to
celebrate the return of Maximilian from Berlin.

We all wore black clothes and there was a black rosette on the horse
which drew our trap.

Liesel started to sing as we drove on the downhill road but she was
reprimanded by Fritz.

"You don't sing at funerals," he told her; and for once Dagobert joined
in to agree with him.

Frau Graben somehow made it seem almost like a festive

occasion; she couldn't hide her excitement; her eyes darted
everywhere, but she drove with a competence which was surprising.

Crowds were already filling the Oberer Stadtplatz; they were taking
their stand on the steps which led to the fountain in the middle of the
square; strips of black crepe fluttered from the windows; and with the
flags at half mast it was clearly a town of mourning.

"We'll get along to the inn while we can," said Frau Graben;

and I was quite relieved when we arrived there.  The trap and horses
were taken care of and we took our seats in the window as we had
before.

The innkeeper came to chat with us and talked about good Duke Carl who
was dead and young Duke Carl who had succeeded him.

"Times are troublous," murmured the innkeeper.

"We miss the good old days.  Let's hope the young Duke gets a long
peaceful reign, though I'm forced to say the signs go against that."

I felt very uneasy and said: "What is the news?"

They say Napoleon's getting more and more pugnacious.  "

"And you think he'll declare war?"

"That's the way things are going."

Dagobert cocked an imaginary gun.

"Bang!  Bang!"  he cried.  You're dead.  "

"Let's hope it won't come to that," said the innkeeper.

Dagobert started to march up and down, singing the National Anthem and
saluting as he came past us.  Fritz fell in behind and Liesel joined
them.

"Now children," said Frau Graben comfortably, 'we're not at war yet,
you know.  "

"I'm going to the war," said Dagobert.

"Bang!  I shall lead you all into battle.  My father will go."

"He's not the Commander-in-Chief," said Fritz.

"Oh yes he is, really."

"No, he's not.  That's the Duke."

"He is really, only he lets the Duke pretend.  He could be Duke if he
wanted to."

"Now, children," said Frau Graben, 'don't let's have nonsense!  "

"It's not nonsense, Grabey.  My father ..."

"We'll have no more guns or wars or dukes or it will be no funeral
procession for you.  Now, Liesel, you'd better

come over here with me or you won't see a thing there.  8 We arranged
ourselves at the window and the innkeeper brought wine for Frau Graben
and me; the children had a sweet drink and the inevitable spiced
cakes.

The guns booming from the tower of the royal schloss announced that the
procession was about to begin.  Slowly the cavalcade descended the
mountain into the town on its way to the church where the late Duke had
been lying in state.

There was the carriage on which the coffin would be placed and taken to
the shores of the lake when Charon would row it over; only a few of the
nearest relatives would cross to the Island-led by Maximilian and Count
Frederic.

There was the Processional Cross glittering in the sun as I had seen it
before, and there was Maximilian remote as a hero of the forest, seated
in his carriage, wearing his robes of state purple velvet edged with
ermine and as I gazed at him I said to myself: Is he really my husband?
But when he looked up, for he knew I should be at the window, and
smiled, he was no longer remote, and not even the sound of the ominous
funeral march nor the guards with black feathers in their hats in place
of the habitual blue ones, could curb my joy.

Slowly they filed past.

"There's my father," said Dagobert in an awed whisper.

And there he was, the Count himself, in military uniform, medals
glistening on his chest, a black feather in his helmet.

He too looked up at the window and I fancied there was a supercilious
smile about his lips.

The duration of the church service seemed interminable to the children;
they fidgeted and Dagobert wanted Fritz's seat because he thought it
was better than his own and as the eldest he should have it.  He tried
to jostle Fritz out of it, but Frau Graben in her comfortable way
controlled them.

At length the service was over.  The coffin was laid in the carriage
for its last journey to the Island.  The band struck up a Dead March,
and slowly the horses, caparisoned in heavy black velvet, black plumes
waving on their heads, drew the carriage through the streets.  On
either side marched the soldiers.

The crowds were silent as the cavalcade went winding its way though the
town towards the forest and lake.  When it came back the carriage which
had contained the coffin would be empty, and the chief mourners would
no longer be there;

the Processional Cross would be taken back to the church and locked
away in the crypt.

Dagobert announced that he wanted to go to the Island to see his
mother's grave.

"Now you know nobody is allowed on the Island today," said Frau
Graben.

"If you're very good I'll take you to see the Duke's grave."

"When?"  Dagobert wanted to know.

"Not today because you wouldn't be allowed.  This is the day of the
burial."

"When my father dies it'll be a better funeral than this," said
Dagobert.

"Good gracious alive, what a thing to talk of!"

"I didn't want him dead," said Dagobert, ashamed, "only I wanted him to
have a better funeral."

"There's not a better funeral than the Duke's," said Fritz.

There can be," insisted Dagobert.

"Now no more talk of funerals or there'll be no trip to the Duke's
grave for some people."

That quietened them but they were restive.

I suggested a guessing game which we played with moderate concentration
until the Processional Cross was brought back and the crowds started to
disperse.

Frau Graben thought we might be leaving soon, but when we descended to
the inn parlour it was to find the crowds were so thick that we could
scarcely move.

"We'll make our way to the stables," said Frau Graben.

"By the time we're ready to leave it'll be less congested."

Dagobert slipped out of the inn yard to look at the crowds and I was
anxious because of what had happened to him in the forest.  I followed
him, calling him.

I then saw Sergeant Franck who had caught Dagobert by the arm.  He
pulled him round and indicated me.

I went up.

Sergeant Franck clicked his heels and bowed.

"It's too crowded out there," he said.

"Give them ten minutes and it'll be considerably less crowded.  You
want to be careful no one picks your pockets in a crowd like this.  All
the beggars and thieves come in for miles around.  It's a field day for
them."

Frau Graben came up.

Again he clicked and bowed.

"I was just telling the Fraulein here that it would be better to wait
for a few minutes.  Why don't you pop in and see Gretchen and the
children?  She'd be glad to see you."

Frau Graben said it was a good idea, and she wished that she had
brought the cordial she'd promised.

"Never mind, she'll be better pleased to see you than all the cordial
in Rochenstein."

"I don't know that that's very polite to my cordial," beamed Frau
Graben.

"Better still," I said, 'it's very complimentary to you.  "

Sergeant Franck made a way for us through the crowd and we left the
main street.  There was a small side alley made very pretty by
window-boxes on the sills; it was like a little court.

Frau Graben told me that the married guards had their homes in little
squares like this throughout the town, though the single ones were in
barracks close to the schloss.

The door of one of the houses was open; one stepped straight into a
living-room.  There were two children sitting on the floor-one, about
six years old, drawing, the other, about four, was playing with
bricks.

"Visitors, Gretchen," said Sergeant Franck; 'and now it's back to duty
for me.  You'll make the introductions, Frau Graben, I know.  "

"You can trust me," said Frau Graben.  And she said something which I
didn't hear.  For I could only gaze in shocked amazement at Gretchen
Franck, for I recognized her at once;

she was Gretchen Swartz whom I had met in the clinic when I was going
to have my baby; the girl who had been in great distress and who they
told me was dead.

She curtseyed to me, but I saw the startled expression in her face and
I was aware that she knew me, even as I knew her.

Frau Graben was smiling at us, watching us-as though we were two
spiders in a bowl.

Then she said: "And how is the new baby, eh?"

"He's sleeping," said Gretchen.

"I hear he's going to be the image of his father.  So you didn't come
out to see the show, Gretchen."

"I couldn't very well take the children," said Gretchen, her eyes
still' on me.

"You could have joined us at the inn window.  There was plenty of
room.

If I'd known I should have brought that cordial.  Are you all right?

You look a bit .  "

"I'm all right," said Gretchen quickly.

"And Mrs..  's '

Miss Trant," said Frau Graben.

"Miss Trant."  Her eyes held mine.

"You would like some ... refreshment?"

"We had wine at the inn.  I dare say the children would like
something."

"Yes," said Dagobert, 'we would.  "

While she brought the refreshment I was thinking: I must speak to her
alone.

When she came back, she put a tray on the table and served the wine.

Her eyes held mine as she handed me my glass.  She was telling me that
she recognized me and was refraining from saying so for fear of my
embarrassment.

There was some cordial for the children and the inevitable spiced
cakes.  Dagobert said to the children: "Two bandits tried to kidnap me,
but I frightened them away."

The children listened intently to his imaginary adventures in the
forest.

"He wore my magic hat and lost it," Fritz told.

Then they talked of the magic hat.

Frau Graben sat listening; then she said: "How are your roses coming on
Gretchen?"

"Very well," replied Gretchen.

"I'll have a look," said Frau Graben.

"No, don't bother to come with me.  I know where to find them."

Gretchen looked at me.  She moved through the open door into the
kitchen.  I followed.

"I knew you at once," she said in a low voice.

"And I you.  But I couldn't believe it.  They told me you had died and
that your grandmother had taken the little boy ..."

She shook her head.

"It was my baby who died.  She was a little girl."

"Then why ...?"

She shook her head.

"I don't understand why Dr.  Kleine should have deliberately lied to
me."

She seemed bewildered.

"And you?"  she said.

"What happened

"My baby died.  A little girl.  I saw her in her coffin.  A little
white face in a white bonnet."

She nodded.

"Mine was like that.  I dreamed of her for a long time."

"And what really happened?"

"My grandmother took me back after all and I came home.  Hans was the
greatest friend of my Franz and he courted me.  He said that Franz
would have wanted him to take care of me and he had always loved Franz
and me too.  So we married, and my grandmother was pleased because Hans
was in the Duke's Guards and gradually I began to forget that nightmare
and be happy again.  What did you do?"

"I went back to England."

"You did not marry again?"

I shook my head.

"It is a pity.  When our first baby came I stopped dreaming, of that
little face in the white bonnet.  I told Hans about it and how that day
I had wanted to kill myself.  And how a strange English girl came to my
room and because of her I went on.  I never forgot you.  And it is
strange that we should meet like this."

"I came back here," I said, 'to teach the children English.  Frau
Graben visited England.  I got to know her and she offered me the post.
 "

"How strangely life works out," she said.

"It is all so bewildering."

She touched my hand gently.

"I shall never forget what you did for me.

I would have jumped from that window .  I know .  if you had not come
in that day.  I don't know what it was about you.  I knew that you had
suffered some tragedy as great as mine; you did not talk of it.

There was something stoical about you.  It gave me courage .  and to
you I owe this happy life which is now mine.  I have often told Hans of
you . but have no fear; I shall not mention that I have seen you .  not
even to Hans.  I think perhaps you would rather not.  "

I nodded.

"Then I shall tell no one."

I said: "I must find out why Dr.  Kleine told me you were dead."

"Perhaps he mistook me for someone else.  There were many people at his
clinic."

"I don't think that was so.  There could not have been a mistake.  He
distinctly told me that you were dead and that your grandmother had
taken the child.  And yet... it was the other way round.  Why?"

"Is it important?"

"I'm not sure, but I have an idea that it might be , e .  very
important."

Frau Graben was standing in the doorway.

"Ah, having a cosy chat.  I knew you two would get on.  Yes, Gretchen
my dear, they're coming on well.  But you watch out for the
greenfly."

She was smiling slyly, blandly.  I wondered how long she had been
standing there.

I was impatient for Maximilian to come that I might tell him what I had
discovered.  This was yet another strange aspect of the mystery which
overhung my life.

I waited at the turret window and when I saw him riding up the road I
was filled with relief.

He ran up the stairs and I was in his arms.  He could not stay, alas;

he had ridden over from the ducal schloss in all haste to tell me that
he had to set out without delay with some of his ministers for
Klarenbock.  A tense situation was arising for war with the French
seemed inevitable.  There were certain clauses in the treaty with
Klarenbock which had to be clarified in the event of such a war and it
was imperative that he leave.

The thought of his going away terrified me.  I suppose I was unduly
anxious because once before I had lost him.

He would be back in a few days, he assured me, a week at most, and as
soon as he returned he would come to me.

As I watched him ride away a terrible feeling of desolation and
insecurity swept over me.  It would always be thus, I feared, when he
went away even for such a short time.

It was some while afterwards that I remembered I had not mentioned what
I had discovered through Gretchen Franck that day: and to stop myself
brooding on Maximilian's departure, I wondered whether I might not go
to the clinic, see Dr.  Kleine and discover whether he could throw any
light on what had happened.

The more I thought of the idea, the better it seemed to me.  I should
have to tell Frau Graben that I was going but I did not wish to tell
her for what reason.  She was far too inquisitive and I could not bear
her to ask questions.

I said there were some people I had met in the town of Klarengen and
that I had often wondered about them.

"Have you written to them?"  she asked.

"No, but I should like to go to see them."

There's a train which would get you there in an hour or so.  I
wouldn't like you to travel alone.  My word, if anything was to happen
to you I'd have His Highness to answer to, wouldn't I?  No, I'm all
against your going alone.  "

"I could ask Gretchen Franck to go with me."

"Gretchen Franck!  Why her?"

"The outing would do her good.  All this talk of war seems to worry
her.  She's upset thinking of Hans going to the front."

Frau Graben nodded thoughtfully.

"It would do her good.  I'm glad you liked her.  I'll get her children
and bring them back here.  I'll look after them while you're away."

"The baby is young, of course."

Do you think I can't handle a young baby?  "

Gretchen was surprised at first when I suggested the trip; but she
quickly agreed to come with me when she heard of Frau Graben's offer to
look after the children.

She was puzzled as to why I wanted to go back there, and I couldn't
explain to her.  I just said I wanted to see my baby's grave and she
said that she would like to see hers.

We caught the train at ten o'clock.  Prinzstein drove me to the town
and we picked up Gretchen there.  The train journey was through
beautiful mountain country which, had I been in a less absorbed mood, I
could have greatly enjoyed.

We went straight to an inn for a meal.  The town was very small and
there were only two.  The one we chose was practically empty; and here,
as in Rochenburg, the imminent war was the great topic of
conversation.

When we reached the clinic, Gretchen shivered as she looked up at the
window and I knew she was thinking of that day when she had planned to
throw herself out.  There was the spot where I had met the Misses
Elkington.

I said: "We are going in to see Dr.  Kleine."

"But why?"  asked Gretchen.

"I must see him.  I want to ask him where my baby is buried."

She didn't demur and we mounted the steps to the porch and rang the
bell.  It was answered by a servant and I asked to see Dr.  Kleine.

I was expecting her to say that he was no longer there, in which case
it seemed that my journey would bring no results, but to my relief we
were ushered into a waiting-room.

"I want you to wait here, Gretchen," I said, 'while I go in and see
Dr.  Kleine.  "

Aften ten minutes or so I was taken to the room where Dr.  Kleine
received his patients.  I remembered it so well: here Ilse had brought
me when we had first come here.

"Please sit down," he said benignly.

I sat down.

"You don't remember me, Dr.  Kleine.  I am Helena Trant."

He was too late to hide the shock I had given him.  I had taken him
completely by surprise, for he had scarcely looked at me as I entered
and it was so long ago since he had seen me.

He wrinkled his brows and repeated my name.  But somehow I sensed that
he remembered me very well.

"Mrs.  Helena Trant," he said.

Miss .  " I said.

Oh.  I'm afraid .  "

I came here and had a child," I said.

"Well, Miss Trant, I have so many clients .  - .  How long ago was
this?"

"Nine years."

He sighed.

"It's a very long time ago.  And you are again ..."

"Indeed not."

"Perhaps there is some other purpose for your visit?"

"Yes.  I want to see my child's grave.  I would like to see that it is
tended."

Tor the first time in .  nine years did you say?  "

"I have fairly recently come back here."

I see.  "

"Do you remember me now, Dr.  Kleine?"

"I believe I do."

"There was a Miss Swartz in the clinic at the time."

"Oh yes, I remember now."

"She died, you told me, and her grandmother adopted her child."

"Yes, I do remember that.  There was quite a fuss about it.  The girl
was in a sad state."

"She tried to kill herself," I said.

"Yes.  I remember.  It was small wonder that she did not survive her
confinement.  We were astonished, I remember, that her child lived."

"But she did survive, Dr.  Kleine.  It was her child who died."

"No, I am sure you are wrong."

"Could you make sure of it?"

"Miss Trant, I should like to know what is your purpose in coming
here?"

"I have told you.  I want to see my child's grave, and to confirm what
happened to Gretchen Swartz.  She lived in this neighbourhood and ..
"

"You thought you would like to meet her again.  But she is dead."

"Could you look up your records and tell me for certain?  I do
particularly want to know."

My heart was beating wildly.  I wasn't quite sure why.  I felt I had to
go carefully, and that if I did I might discover what had happened to
Ilse.  And if I could find Ilse I should have the key to the mystery
which still obscured my past.  Of one thing I was certain.  Dr.  Kleine
was not telling the truth.  He knew who I was and he was disturbed
because I had come back.

"It is very unorthodox to discuss my patients," he said.

"But if they are dead it does not matter?"

"But since Miss Swartz died how can you possibly see her again?  And it
is no use going to visit the grandmother.  I heard that she died too
and the child was adopted by people who went out of the country."

He was getting more and more involved and worried.

I went on: "If you could assure me that Gretchen Swartz actually died I
should be satisfied."

He sighed and hesitated.  Then he went to the bell-rope.  A nurse
appeared.  He told her that he wanted a certain ledger.

While we were waiting for it to come he asked me what I had been doing
in the last years.  I said I had gone home to England; then I had had
an opportunity to come out here and teach English.

"And it was then that you decided you would like to visit your child's
grave?"

"Yes," I said.

"Graves such as that of your child which are never tended are naturally
hard to find.  In the cemetery you will see many small mounds which are
almost obliterated by time."

The ledger was brought in.  The date .  He turned it up.

"Ah yes.

Gretchen Swartz died in childbirth.  The baby was adopted.  "

"Your ledger is wrong, Dr.  Kleine," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Gretchen Swartz did not die."

"How can you be sure of that?"

"I can be very sure.  I have met her."

"You have met her?"

"I have.  She is now married to a Sergeant Franck and lives in
Rochenburg."

He swallowed; the silence seemed to go on for several seconds; he
stammered: "That's impossible."

I rose.

"No," I said.

"It's true.  I do wonder why you have recorded the death of Gretchen
Swartz and the adoption of her child.  What is your motive?"

"Motive?  I don't understand.  There may have been some mistake."

"There has been some mistake," I said.

"Excuse me one moment.  I have a friend whom I should like you to
meet."

Before he could protest I had gone into his waiting-room and come back
with Gretchen.

"I want you and Dr.  Kleine to meet," I told Gretchen.

He stared at her.

"Who ..."  he began.

"What ..."

This is Frau Franck," I said.

"You remember her as Gretchen Swartz.

But you thought-or you told me you thought she was dead.  You see, she
is alive.  "

"We both had children in your clinic, Dr.  Kleine."

"But I don't understand.  You and she ... here together.  You .  , .

planned this?  "

"Oh yes, yes ..."

"You told me that Gretchen's child lived and was adopted."

"There has clearly been a misunderstanding.  You did not tell me that
Fraulein Swartz was here."

"She is Frau Franck now, but you were so certain that she was dead.

Your records said so.  "

"It is obviously a clerical error.  I am glad Fraulein Swartz did not
die, but as I say, it is so long ago."

"How did you come to make such a record?"

He shrugged his shoulders, his composure almost regained.

"Mistakes happen.  Miss Trant, as you must be aware.  I'm 'afraid I
can't help you further."

"Perhaps you can," I said.

"I wonder whether you can give me the address of Frau Gleiberg."

He wrinkled his brows but he did not deceive me.

"Wasn't she your friend?"  he asked.

"I have lost touch with her."

"I too.  And now.  Miss Trant, you will understand that I am a very
busy man.  I am sorry that I can be of no help to you."

He ushered me out of his clinic with alacrity.  I was excited because a
sudden notion had come to me that just as he had deceived us into
thinking that Gretchen's child had lived, might he not have deceived me
into thinking that mine had died?

He could give me no details.  He could not tell me where my child was
buried.

How I wished Maximilian would come back.  There was so much to discuss
with him.

A letter came from Anthony?

Things look a little unsettled over there," he wrote, " I don't like
the idea of your being there.  The French are very bellicose, and they
and the Prussians are such old enemies.  If there was trouble-and
opinion here seems that there might well bel shouldn't like to think of
you there.  If you send word, I'll come out and bring you back .  "

It sepmed unfair not to tell him that I had found Maximilian.  I was so
fond of Anthony that I wanted him to stop thinking of me.  I hoped that
the girl to whom his mother had referred would be all that he needed in
a wife and I wholeheartedly wished that he might fall in love with her
and forget me.

As soon as I possibly could I should tell him.

Frau Graben came into the schoolroom in a flutter of excitement.  I was
taking an English lesson and trying to- keep my attention on what we
were doing.  It was not easy.  I kept thinking of my visit to Dr.
Kleine's clinic and asking myself what it meant.  I was beginning to
believe more and more that there was some mystery about my little
girl's death.

Every time I heard the sound of horses' hoofs in the courtyard I
started, desperately hoping it would be Maximilian.  1 yearned to talk
to him, to sift the reason for Dr.  Kleine's strange behaviour from all
the mass of mystery which surrounded me.

Frau Graben said: "It's the Duchess.  It's Wilhelmina."  I heard myself
say in a voice which sounded haughty but this of course was due to
nervousness: "What does she want?"

"She's come to see you."

To see me!  "

"That's what she says.  She's over at the Rittersaal."

Dagobert said: "Is the Duke with her?"

"No," answered Frau Graben.

"She's all alone ... at least she's alone in the Rittersaal.  She has
two of her women waiting in the carriage."

"I'll go at once to her," I said.

"I can't imagine why she wants to see me."

I told the children to go on reading from the book of fairy stories
which we were studying.

As the door shut on us Frau Graben looked at me, her eyes dancing with
excitement, and lifted her shoulders.

"What does this mean, I wonder," she whispered.

"She did say she wanted to see meT " She certainly did.  And there's a
look in her eyes .  "

"What sort of look?"

"Reminded me of icebergs," said Frau Graben.

"Not that I've seen an iceberg.  Cold.  Very cold.  Shivery cold, I'd
say.  And I've been told that there's a lot more ice in icebergs than
you see on the surface."

"I wonder if ..."

"She knows anything?  Couldn't say.  News leaks out ... particularly
bad news and this could be bad news to her.  Still, you'll soon know.

Just go in and call her Your Grace and show the proper respect.  You
can't go wrong then.  "

I found that I was trembling.  I had seen this woman on one or two
occasions, but only from a distance.  The fact that she believed
herself to be Maximilian's wife made her alarming, to say the least.  I
felt that I was wronging her, which was not so.  It was neither her
fault nor mine that we were in this position.

She was seated at the table when Frau Graben opened the door.

"Here's Miss Trant, Your Grace," she said, and I stepped into the room.
I was aware that Frau Graben had not shut the door.  She would be
standing very close, listening.  The eavesdropper in this case was
rather a comfort.

"You are Miss Trant?"  The coldest blue eyes I had ever seen were
appraising me.  They were expressionless and it was impossible to tell
from them what she knew.  She was beautiful in a certain style, I
noticed with a pang of jealousy.  How absurd to feel thati He loved me
and he had never loved her.

She was beautiful as a statue is beautiful-remote and so cool.  Her
fair hair was swept up from a pale, rather long face, her nose was
aquiline and patrician; her mouth matched her eyes unsmiling.  Her
velvet cloak fell back to display the lace ruffles at her wrists and
neck.  Diamonds sparkled on her fingers and in the lace at her
throat.

They suited her.  I could not imagine her ever glowing with passion;

yet aloof as she was there was something deadly about her as there is
about a snake.

But I believed she was feeling more interest in me than she would
normally have for a teacher of English.  She knows, I thought, if not
all something.

"I hear you teach the children English."

"That is so."

"And are they good pupils?"

I replied that I was satisfied with them.

She said: "You may be seated."  She pointed to a chair close to hers
and added: "There."

"How long have you been in Klocksburg?"  she went on.

I told her.

"Why did you come here?"

"Frau Graben came to England and we met.  She thought I would be
suitable to teach the children English."

"Frau Graben!  Why should she decide that the children should be taught
English?"

"Perhaps she could tell you that."

The eyebrows were imperceptibly raised.  I hoped I did not sound
impertinent.  I did not mean to be.  I was merely horribly nervous
because she was in the position which should be mine, because she
believed herself to be married to Maximilian and was not.  I could not
imagine what her reaction would be when she knew the truth.  She was
proud and haughty and I should think would be very humiliated.  The
loss of dignity would mean a great deal to her.

"We are living through difficult times.  Miss Trant," she said.

"It might be well if you returned to your country."

I was sure there was an, even colder glitter in her eyes.

She knows!  I thought.  She is telling me to get out.  I had the
impression that she was offering me escape or the consequences of
remaining here.

Go home!  Leave Maximilian!  As if I could!  Was he not my husband? 
But I was sorry for her.  I would be sorry for any woman in her
position, be she proud princess or humble

woodcutter's daughter.

I knew in that moment that I was going to fight for what was mine.

Because my visit to Dr.  Kleine was fresh in my memory, I thought of
the children I should have; and it must be my son, not hers, who should
be his father's heir.  For myself I did not seek great riches.  I knew
that I should have been happier if my husband had been in a less
exalted position; but for my children I would fight as any other mother
would.

"I have no wish to return to my country," I said.

"I propose to stay here."

She bowed her head.  What secrets those eyes held!  Indeed she was like
a snake.  Her eyes were steady; her mouth cold;

one sensed the poison dart was ready, waiting.

"We could be at war at any moment.  The Duke, my husband, is most
concerned."

I felt the colour flush my cheeks.  I wanted to say: No!  My husband.

And do you think / do not know of his concern?

This was foolish, of course.  I was not being reasonable.  She had no
notion that I was Maximilian's wife.  This cold appraising manner was
the one accorded to all those whom she considered far beneath her.

"I should advise all foreigners to go," she said.

"But you do not wish to.  You are enthralled by your post."  Her lips
curled, but there was no smile in her eyes; it was as though she were
shrugging her shoulders at my folly, telling me that if I were wise I
would go; but if I would not, then stay and take the consequences.

"I prefer to stay.  It is good of Your Grace to concern yourself with
me."

That was hypocritical for I knew very well that there was nothing good
about her concern.  She was not in the least anxious for my welfare.

She wanted something.

"Since you will stay," she said, T will call upon your help.  I wonder
whether you will do as I ask.  "

I sensed that she was playing with me tormenting me in some way.  I was
convinced in that moment that she knew;

but in the next I was telling myself that I was fanciful.

"The war is coming," she went on.

"There is no doubt of it.  I plan to turn one of the smaller schlosses
into a hospital.  We shall need all the helpers we can get.  Are you
prepared to join us.  Miss Trant?"

I was astonished.  What an absurd imagination I had!  Had she after
all merely come to ask my help in a hospital!  And here I was imagining
that she was planning to murder me!

I was tremendously relieved and I think I showed it.

"I would do anything I could to help," I said warmly.

"I must tell you, though, that I have had no experience of nursing."

"Few of us have.  We may have to learn.  Then, Miss Trant, can we count
on your help?"

"If this war should take place then I should be eager to give my
services."

"Thank you.  Miss Trant.  That is good of you.  I have the schloss in
mind.  It is called the Landhaus because the Government used to sit
there years ago.  You have seen it?"

I said I had not.

"It is on the other side of the mountain and easily accessible.  I
trust that we may not need it, but we have to be prepared."  The cold
eyes looked straight into mine.

"It's no use waiting for events to catch us.  We must be ready to meet
them when they come.  You agree, I am sure."

"Yes, I do."

She waved her hand rather imperiously to denote that the interview was
over.  I rose and went to the door.

When I reached it she said: "I shall be calling on your help ...
soon."

I said I would be ready.

As I went out I almost fell into Frau Graben.

"Come to my sitting-room," she said, 'and I'll give you a cup of tea.
"

I followed her there; the kettle was already on the boil.

"There," said Frau Graben as she poured out.

"What do you make of that?"

There was no need to ask how she knew the gist of the conversation.  I
knew and she knew I knew that she had been listening all the time.

"I suppose it's wise to be prepared.  If there is a war there will be
casualties and it is well to have hospitals."

"I wonder why she came to see you."

"She will want as many helpers as she can get."

*I know.  I know.  But why come to see yow?  Is her High and Mighty
Grace going to interview all those who will be called in to help?  "

"Perhaps she thinks as I'm a foreigner my case is different.

She warned me I/should leave, as you heard.  "

Frau Graben narrowed her eyes.

"I wonder what she knows.  They've got spies everywhere.  You can
depend upon it Maxi's visits here have been noted.  And why should he
come here, they'll be asking themselves, and when they ask themselves a
question like that they come up with the same answer every time.  A
woman!"

"She gave no indication that she knew."

"As if she would!  Close, she is.  Cold as ice on top.  And what's
underneath?  I wonder what she'll do.  People!  They're worth
watching.

If she thinks you're just another woman she might plague you for a bit,
but if she knew you were his true and lawful wife .  " Frau Graben
began to laugh so much I thought she would choke.

"It seems to amuse you," I said coldly.

"Sometimes I think you're a wicked woman."

"I have my parts like everyone else.  People-you never can be sure, can
you?"

How true that was!  One could never be sure only of the one who was
closest to you.

Oh Maximilian, I prayed, come back soon.

The next day a messenger arrived from the Count.  He came in a carriage
with the arms blazoned on it.  They were so like the ducal arms that at
first I thought that Maximilian was back.  My disappointment was
intense.

Frau Graben had, of course, seen the carriage and ascertained the
reason for its coming.

"It's from Fredy," she told me.

"You're to go to his schloss.  He wants to consult you about the
children's lessons."

I stared at her in dismay.  She nodded grimly.

"We can't disobey an order from the Count ... not until you're
recognized, you know."  She giggled.

"But he didn't say anything about your going alone.  Though I doubt not
that he has that in mind.  I know Fredy.  I'll come with you."

I was glad of her company; she always brought a touch of lightness into
everything that happened.  Her intense interest in what was going on
and her determination to extract the ultimate excitement from it was
infectious.

"Fredy won't be very pleased to see me," she chuckled.

"But Maxi left you in my care, remember, and I'm not one to forget my
obligations."

Her eyes danced with excitement.  I believed she would

rather have something tragic happen than nothing at all.

We reached the Count's schloss.  It was not unlike the ducal one, being
only slightly less grand.

"Fredy imagines himself the Duke," grunted Frau Graben.

"As I've said to him more than once in the old days, as long as he
keeps it to his imagination I'll not quarrel with that."

We passed the sentries who all knew Frau Graben, and went into the
Rittersaal where a servant in the splendid livery of the Count's
household-as grand as the traditional ducal one and scarcely any
different took us into an anteroom.

The Count himself joined us there.  His eyes narrowed when they saw
Frau Graben.

"You!  You old meddler," he said.

"Now, Fredy, remember whom you're talking to."

"I did not send for you."

"Naturally I came.  I can't have young ladies from my household
visiting unescorted."

Although he was angry, I saw that she could still extract some sort of
obedience from him.  She could by a word or a look transport both the
Count and Maximilian back to their childhood.  She must have been a
powerful force in the nursery, and that power lingered.  She
exasperated them but still kept that hold on their affections.  This
undoubtedly proved the truth of her observations about people.  There
were so many different sides to their character and the Count, who was
undoubtedly an unscrupulous man, could remember the affection he had
for his old nurse.

"You wanted to see Miss Trant.  Well, I've brought her to you."

"You will wait here," he said to her.

"Miss Trant will come with me."

She could say nothing to that and I must go with him; but it was a
great comfort to know that she was waiting for me.

He shut the door firmly on her and I followed him up a wide staircase
to a small panelled room.  There was a window in the embrasure with
window-seats, and the magnificent views, which had become almost a
commonplace, were evident.

"Now, Miss Trant," he said, 'pray be seated.  " He brought a chair for
me and placed it so that the bright light from the window was on my
face.  He seated himself in the window- seat, the light behind him.  He
folded his arms and studied me intently.

"How are the children progressing with their lessons?"

question which he had not brought me here to answer, I knew.

I told him that they were progressing satisfactorily.

"I have become very interested in their studies ... since you arrived."
There was a gleam of humour in his face.  He was implying of course
that he was interested in me.

"It is a fair distance to Klocksburg and I am a busy man.  I should
like to see more of them, so I am going to suggest that they come
here."

"I think it would be a mistake to move them," I said quickly.

"Indeed.  Why so?"

"K-locks burg has always been their home.  The servants are familiar to
them."

"They can always visit Klocksburg and I do not wish them to become
attached to servants."

"They feel very secure under Frau Graben's rule."

"I don't doubt it," he said grimly.

"But I want the boys to be men, not little chickens cowering under the
old hen's wing.  Moreover, it would be pleasant to see more of you.
Miss Trant.  You are a very interesting woman."

Thank you.  "

"Don't thank me.  Thank the powers above that made you so."

I stood up.

"I think I will leave now."

"Spoken like a ... Duchess!  My God, you have the air!  You have
acquired that since you've been here.  Of course, you were always ready
to express your disapproval.  Remember our first meeting?  But you have
changed since then.  It is since my cousin returned."

I moved towards the door but he was beside me.  He had gripped my
arm.

"I should be glad if you would remove your hand."

"Come, Miss Trant, it is not the first time you have been touched."

"You are insolent."

"Forgive me ... Duchess."  He brought his face close to mine.

"I know a great deal about you, you see."  H& did not release my arm
and I was uncomfortably aware of his brutal masculinity.  I thought
gratefully of Frau Graben.

"If you do no release me this instant ..."

"What will you do?"

"I will see that the Duke ...* " My noble cousin is far away.  When he
returns you will

report to him that I have dared lay hands on what is his.  Is that so?
"

His cruel face was close to mine.

"I know a great deal about you, my dear mock-Duchess.  You were
acquainted with our Maximilian years ago, were you not?  You came here
to seek him out.  You wanted to renew that interesting liaison which
took place a number of years ago.  It seems an unusual story to you,
but to us it is common enough.  I have even played it out myself.  A
simple country maid who is ignorant of the ways of the world.  She
guards her virtue as a sacred thing, and so a mock marriage is
necessary."

"You are wrong," I was stung into reply.

"There was no mock marriage."

"Still deluded.  Miss Trant?"

"How do you know of this?"

"My dear Miss Trant, I have a way of discovering what I want to know.

I have my spies and they work well for me.  You surely do not believe
that my cousin is really married to you!  " I did not answer and he
went on: " Ah, I see you do.  You really believe that.  Do you think
that even he would be such a fool?  How easy it is .  you would not
believe how easy.  A simple ceremony, a friend who obligingly poses as
a priest.  My dear Miss Trant, it has been done a thousand times in the
past and will doubtless be done a thousand times more.  "

"I cannot discuss the matter."

"Much as I wish to please you, we cannot always talk only on what
gratifies you."

"Why have you brought me here to tell me this?"

"This was just en passant.  I have brought you here to tell you that
the children are to take up their quarters here and you, as their
teacher of English, will naturally accompany them.  I can promise you
as pleasant a time here as you enjoy in Klocksburg.  What have you to
say to that?"

"I have nothing to say."

"That means you will prepare to leave Knocksburg immediately."

"I shall not leave Klocksburg."

"Do you mean you are resigning your post?"

"I should do so if you insisted on the children coming here " And what
of Fritz .  , your special protege?  " I flinched.  I couldn't help it.
I had a horrible vision of what his sadistic treatment could be to that
boy.  In the joy of Maximilian's return had I neglected Fritz a
little?

I had no fear for myself.  Maximilian would protect me from this
man;

but even when there was no longer need to keep our marriage secret,
Fritz would still be in his power.  I had allowed myself to become
deeply involved with the boy.  He needed me and I knew I had done a
great deal for him.

The Count was watching me slyly, reading my thoughts.  He put his face
close to mine.

"You have a deep feeling for that son of mine.  Miss Trant," he said.

"I like it.  It shows me what a warm-hearted woman you are.  It
increases my admiration for you.  You will come here and continue to
look after him.  There is no reason why you and I should not become
great friends.  You could reason with me, if you thought I was too
harsh with the boy.  You would be able to apply your maternal instincts
would you not?  Oh, Miss Trant, you are a wonderful woman.  I will tell
you frankly I adore you."

"I wish to leave now."

"And you will consider my proposition.  Don't think too much about that
incident of the past, will you?  Max and I are very much alike.  We
always were.  Brought up together, we developed similar tastes.  That
diabolical Graben will tell you that.  As for that affair in the
hunting lodge be reasonable.  I shouldn't like you to attach too much
importance to it.  It was a commonplace in the past and is not so very
unusual in the present.  And just suppose it were not a mock
ceremony.

What do you think would be the result of thati I can tell you.

Trouble!  Big trouble!  And with Klarenbock.  Do you think the people
of that state would stand calmly by and accept the degradation of their
Princess?  And even if they did, what would be the reaction of the
people here?  They would never accept you .  a foreigner of no rank,
however attractive you might be.  Do you know what would happen?  The
end of Maximilian.  At best he would be deposed.  You would not want to
make such a disaster for him .  for our little Rochenstein.  But praise
be, it was not so.  The ceremony in the hunting lodge was like others
before it.  They never shook the foundations of the dukedom, so why
should this.  "

It was our secret no longer.  It was out and known to the man who was,
I felt certain, our most dangerous enemy.

I must get away to think.

I heard him say: "In due course a carriage will come for you and the
children.  I look forward to receiving you here.  You and I will then
be able to continue our interesting friend254

ship more comfortably.  That will give me the greatest pleasure.  "

I told Frau Graben as the carriage took us back to Klocks- burg.

"Take the children!  I never heard of such a thing."

"He says that is what he will do.  And he knows about the ceremony in
the hunting lodge!  He said that was a mock marriage!"

"He's lying.  Maxi was never a liar.  Fredy would lie himself out of
any trouble.  I know him well."

"He was very offensive to me and I am afraid for Fritz."

"He wants you because Maxi loves you.  He was always like that.  He
must have what Maxi had.  It was an obsession with him.  But you'll not
go to that schloss of his."

"No," I agreed.

"But what of Fritz?"

Frau Graben narrowed her eyes.

"He'll not have the children there.  The Countess would never allow it.
She's the one person he's afraid of.

She'd never have her husband's illegitimate children in her schloss.

I'm certain of that.  He's a bluffer, our Fredy.  "

"He knows about the ceremony.  How could he have discovered?"

"Spies ... everywhere.  He's as troublesome as his father was.  We're
going to have trouble with him.  I wasn't stern enough in the
nursery."

"He has a certain respect for you that he doesn't seem to have for
anyone else."

She nodded, smiling.

"And," I went on, 'he says that if it were known that I were
Maximilian's wife the people would revolt.  They'd not accept me and
Maximilian would be deposed.  "

"Indeed!  And Master Fredy would step in to take the dukedom, eh?"

"He did not go so far as to say that."

"It's in his mind.  It's always been there ... rankling.  That's what
he's after and he'd stop at nothing to get it.  He wants you, too, you
and the dukedom.  Everything that's Maxi's must be his.  I've heard too
that he's tired of his innkeeper's daughter.  That was one of his
longer affairs.  Her father didn't like it at all, poor man.  He doted
on her; she's the only child.  But Fredy comes along and must have his
way.  Poor girl.  Oh, we've got to watch Master Fredy."

"I long for Maximilian to come back."

"Well, that," she replied with her bland smile, 'is right and proper,
seeing that he's your lawful husband.  All we can do is wait.

Something's going to happen soon.  I feel that in my bones-and it's
going to be something big.  "

I heard her chuckle.  I had rarely seen her so excited.

I was very anxious that the children should not hear that the Count had
said they were to leave Klocksburg.  The more I thought of that, the
more inclined I was to agree with Frau Graben.  His Countess, whom I
had glimpsed briefly, had the appearance of a very determined woman,
and I did not think Frau Graben was far wrong in saying that she would
never accept the Count's illegitimate offspring in the schloss where
her son was being brought up.  Yes, he was bluffing.  But there was no
doubt that he had learned something and that was that there had been
some ceremony between myself and Maximilian all those years ago.

The boys were clamouring to see the royal tomb and the afternoon
following the day I had been summoned to the Count's schloss we went to
the Island of Graves.  Liesel had not come with us but had stayed
behind with Frau Graben.

There was a boat at the moorings and the boys declared they wished to
row across themselves rather than wait for old Charon to come and take
them over.  There was a bit of a squabble as to which one should take
the oars.

I suggested that we should toss a coin and decide who should row us
over and the other one could row us back.  This they agreed to.

Dagobert won the toss and rowed us over, with Fritz watching him
carefully to make sure that his strokes were perfect.

As we scrambled ashore Charon came out of his house to greet us.  He
stood before us, his eyes peering at us through the wrinkled flesh.

* Tis been a sad day since you were last here," he said, looking at
me.

He gave me his hand.  I remembered how dry and cold it had been on that
other occasion.  It still was.

"And you've come to see the royal grave."  I remembered the hollow ring
of his voice.

"We've had visitors lately.  Tis always the same when one of the Family
comes to the last resting-place."

I was one of the Family now, and it might be that one day what was
left of me would be lying on this Island.

"Come with me," said Charon.

"Come, young masters.  I'll show you where the old Duke lies.  May God
rest his soul."

I walked beside him, the boys following.  They were unusually solemn.

No doubt they felt as I did-that we were in the presence of Death.

Dagobert said: "Have you found someone to train to take your place,
Franz?"

"I'm all alone on the Island as I have been these many years," was the
answer.

"I do wonder who's going to look after all these dead people when
you're dead too."

"It will be solved," said Charon.

"All these dead people," mused Dagobert.

"They do want someone to look after them.  I reckon everyone would be
afraid to live here ... except you, Franz.  Are you afraid?"

"The dead have been my companions too long for me to fear them,
master."

"Would you like to be here alone when it's dark, Fritz?"  demanded
Dagobert.  Fritz hesitated and Dagobert accused him: "You know you
wouldn't.  You'd be frightened.  You'd scream when all the ghosts got
out of their tombs."

"You know you wouldn't like to be here alone after dark either,
Dagobert," I said, 'and as neither of you is going to be, there's no
point in talking about it.  "

"I wouldn't mind," boasted Dagobert.

"I'd sit on the gravestones and I'd say " Come out and see me.  I'm not
afraid of you!  "

"And you would be just like the rest of us," I told him.

"Perhaps they're afraid too," said Fritz.

"I wouldn't like to be down in the ground with a lot of earth on top of
me."

"That's no way to talk," I admonished.

"Those flowers are very beautiful."

"Planted only a few hours after His Grace was laid to rest," said
Franz.

We had come to the grand avenue and there was the new grave covered
with flowers.  The grand effigies and statues had not yet been
erected.

The boys stood and gazed solemnly at it.

"Do people ever get buried who are not dead?"  asked Dagobert.

"What a question!  Who would bury people before they were dead?"  I
said lightly.

n. o. s. m.

257 I

"Some people have been buried alive.  In monasteries they used to put
them in a wall and build round them."

"Now you've seen the Duke's grave.  Wouldn't you like to visit your
mothers'?"

They would naturally do so and we left the grand burial ground for that
other.  Charon accompanied us; he looked as one would imagine the
boatman of the Styx with his black robes napping round him and grey
locks straggling out from under his skullcap-a messenger of Death.

"I want you to be careful of the new grave," he said.

"A new grave!"  Dagobert's eyes sparkled.

"Whose grave?"

"I dug it this morning," said Charon.

"May we see it?"  asked Fritz.

Charon pointed.

"It's close by.  There are wooden planks across it."

"May we see it?"  asked Fritz.

"Young masters, be careful.  Don't go falling down.  Why, you could
break a leg."

They were eager to see.  I followed them over to the grave and Charon
lifted the planks and we looked down into the deep dark hole.

I felt the goose pimples rise on my skin.  I suppose it was due to the
thought that soon a coffin would be lowered down there and another life
would be over.  I felt, as they say at home, that someone was walking
over my grave.

"Who is to be buried there?"  I asked.

"A young woman," replied Charon shaking his head.

"Too young to die.

She's the daughter of the innkeeper in the town.  "

I knew who she was then-another of those unfortunate women.  The Count
had favoured her for a short while and then discarded her.  I knew that
she had taken her own life and the favour shown her had led her, as it
had led others before her, to the Island of Graves.

I felt a great desire to get away from the place.

All that day the tension seemed to be mounting.  I was waiting for I
knew not what.  Of one thing I was certain.  This state of affairs
could not last.  I was listening for the sound of a horse's hoofs on
the road. Maximilian might come.  How I longed for him-not only for the
joy his presence always gave me, but because I desperately wished to
tell him of my mounting fears.  And if the sounds from without should
be

those of a carriage and there should be an imperative demand from the
Count that the children should leave, what should I do?  I would not go
and yet how could I allow Fritz to go without me?  My mind was working
on wild plans to keep Fritz behind.  I must pretend he was ill.

No, that would not work again.  But I must find a way.

"My goodness," said Frau Graben.

"You're all of a jump."

"I'm thinking of the Count's taking the children."

"I tell you he daren't.  The Countess wouldn't have it- particularly
now there's this fresh scandal.  That girl of his, the innkeeper's
daughter, she was to have a child and she has taken her life."

"I saw her grave ... freshly dug," I said.

"Poor soul!  It's the end for her.  And what a way to die.  She threw
herself from the topmost attic of the inn into her father's
courtyard.

They say he found her there.  He's nigh demented.  She was his only
child.  "

"What a terrible tragedy!"

"She was a fool.  He would have taken care of her and the child even
though he was tired of her.  There would have been another little one
to join us.  These poor girls.  It's so romantic in the beginning and
then there's the reckoning."

"But not for him," I said angrily.

"Fredy looks upon it as his right.  And she knew that from the start.

It's happened to others before.  Poor, poor child.  It had to end,
though.  Fredy wouldn't stay faithful for ever.  But it's over now a
warning to young girls.  Now cheer up.  I tell you, he won't take the
children.  How can he?  The Countess won't have them under the same
roof as the future Count.  No, here they'll stay.  You'll see.  And now
all we have to do is wait for Maxi to come back.  "

How I yearned for that day!

It must have been just past midnight.  I had retired to bed as usual
and was in a deep sleep when I was awakened to find Frieda standing by
my bed with a candlestick in which was a lighted candle.

"Miss Trant," she cried.

"Wake up.  Fritz isn't in his bed."  I started up and hastily put on
slippers and a dressing- gown.

"He must be walking again.  Miss Trant.  I went in because I thought I
heard a sound ... and he wasn't there.  His bed is empty."

Frieda was trembling so much that the box of matches in the saucerlike
base of the candlestick fell on to the bed.  She replaced them with
shaking fingers.

"We'd better look for him," I said.

Yes, Miss.  "

I ran out of my room; she followed holding the candle high.

I went to Fritz's room.  His bed was empty.

"He can't be far," I said.

"Miss," said Frieda, 'there's a draught on the turret stairs.  I
couldn't understand .  "

"A draught!  But that would mean a window was open somewhere."

I started towards the turret stairs.  I realized at once what she
meant. If the door was shut there would be no draught.  It could only
be if the window was open .  I was frightened.  Fritz walking in his
sleep .  into the turret-room, to the window .  the window from which'
long ago poor Gerda had flung herself.  Gerda's story had caught his
imagination; I believed I had suppressed the children's unhealthy fear
of ghosts, but how could I be sure of what went on in their innermost
minds, and if Fritz were sleepwalking .  I ran up the stairs; the door
was open; there was no doubt that the draught came from the open
window.

Frieda was close at my heels with the candle, which was a good thing
for it was a dark night; there was a certain amount of mist in the air,
but the candle light showed me the room with the open window, the
window from which Gerda had thrown herself and from which there was a
steep drop to the valley below.

I ran to it and leaned out.  I could just make out the shadowy shape of
the mountainside.  I sensed a presence behind me.  A warm breath seemed
to touch my neck.  In that instant I thought; someone is going to force
me out of the window.

|i There was a sudden scream and a blaze of light illuminated the room.
I saw Frieda cowering against the wall.  She no longer held the candle
but was staring in horror at the velvet table-covering which was on
fire.  I forgot my terror of a few moments before.  I rushed to pick up
a rug and started to beat out the flames.

Frau Graben appeared, a candle in her hand, her hair in iron curlers
under a nightcap.

"Mem Gottshe cried.

"What is happening?"

I continued to beat out the smouldering remains of the table-cloth.  My
mouth was parched and for a moment I could not speak.  Then I said:

"Frieda dropped the candle ... and I think there was someone here.

Frieda, did you see anyone?  "

She shook her head.

"I dropped the candle ... the flame caught the matches ... the whole
box went up in flames ..."

"Where were you, Frau Graben?"  I asked.

"Did you see anyone?  You must have."

"There was no one on the stairs."

Frieda cried: "It must have been the ghost."

"You're shaking like a leaf," said Frau Graben to me.

"But why did you come up here?"

"Fritz!"  I cried.

"I'm forgetting Fritz.  I came to look for him.  He's sleep-walking
again."

"Well, he's not here," said Frau Graben.

I stared fearfully at the window.

"We must search every where ... everywhere," I cried frantically.

"Come then," said Frau Graben.

"Frieda, damp down that cloth just in case.  Make sure there's no
danger."

We went down the stairs to Fritz's room.  His door was open.  To my
great relief he was in his bed.

"Fritz," I cried, bending over him, 'are you all right?  "

"Hello, Miss Trant," he said sleepily.

I kissed him and he smiled happily.  I felt his hand.  It was warm.  I
remembered how icily cold his hands and feet had been on that other
occasion when I had found him walking in his sleep.

"I've been to see a horse," he murmured.

"All polished it was ... and shiny and there was a man sitting on it
with a gold crown on his head."

"You've been dreaming, Fritz," I said.

"Yes," he murmured, closing his eyes.

Frau Graben said: "Well, we'd better get to our beds."

She came back to my room with me.

"You've had a nasty shock.  Miss," she said.

"I didn't want to say too much in front of Frieda.  She was near
hysteria.  You say someone was behind you?"

Yes.  "

"Yet Frieda saw nothing."

"I can't understand it.  But it all happened in a moment.

She dropped the candle and the matches caught fire.  That saved me, I
think.  "

"They'd say it was the ghost.  That was why we kept the room locked.

They used to say that if anyone went up there and leaned out of that
window they wouldn't be able to stop themselves going over.  "

"That's nonsense.  Someone was there-behind me."

"Can you be sure?  When Frieda saw nobody?"

"Do you think I imagined it?"

"I don't know what to say, but I reckon you ought not to go on brooding
on it.  I'll bring you a drop of hot cordial; it'll put you to sleep;
and if you lock your door you'll feel safe.  Then after a good night's
sleep you can start worrying about what really happened."

She slipped out and shortly returned with the cordial.  Tt was hot and
warming.  She took the glass away; I locked myself into my room; and to
my surprise I was soon fast asleep.  Her cordial must have been very
potent.

I woke in the morning feeling heavy-headed.  I washed and dressed
hurriedly, thinking about last night's terrifying incident.  By
daylight it no longer seemed fantastic; I had had an anxious time and
may have imagined that someone was behind me and that had Frieda not
dropped the candle I should have been forced out of the window.  It
seemed the most logical conclusion.  The innkeeper's daughter's death
was in my mind, and she, poor girl, had fallen to her death.  Was I
becoming fanciful? It was unlike me, it was true, but possible, I
supposed.

I told myself that I must be calm and behave normally so I went to the
schoolroom to find Fritz and Liesel there alone.  They told me that
Dagobert was not up.

"He's lazy," said Fritz.

"No, he's not," contradicted Liesel, protecting Dagobert as usual.

"He's an old sleepyhead this morning."

I said I would go and wake him.

"We've had our breakfast," said Liesel.  Tritz was naughty.  "

"I wasn't," retorted Fritz.

"Yes, he was, he left half his milk."

"I always leave half my milk.  You know Dagobert drinks it."

"He drinks it for you."

"No he doesn't.  He drinks it because he likes it."

I left them arguing and went into Dagobert's room.  The boy was lying
flat on his back.  I bent over him and a great fear struck me.

"Dagobert!"  I cried.

"Wake up, Dagobert!"

He did not open his eyes.  I bent over him, studying him intently. 
This was no ordinary sleep.

I ran as fast as I could to Frau Graben's sitting-room.

She was eating a slice of pumpernickel sprinkled with the caraway seeds
which she liked so much.  Nothing that happened could affect her
appetite.

"Frau Graben," I said.

"I'm worried about Dagobert.  I wish you'd come and look at him."

"Isn't he up?"

"No.  He's asleep.  It's rather peculiar She left her pumpernickel and
came with me.

She took one look at the boy and felt his pulse.

"Mein Golf' she cried.

"What goes on in this place?  He's been put to sleep."

"Dagobert!  Put to sleep!"  I cried.

She shook her head gravely.

"Something strange is going on," she said.  *I don't like it.  I wish I
knew who was responsible for this.  "

"What shall we do?"

"Leave him to sleep it off.  We'll tell the children Dagobert's not
feeling well and will spend the morning in bed and they're not to
disturb him."

"Has this anything to do with last night, I wonder?"

"What could it have?  Do you know.  Miss Trant?"

"I've no idea.  All I'm convinced of is that last night someone was
waiting in the turret-room to kill me."

"Have you any idea who?"

"No.  But it has something to do with my relationship with
Maximilian."

"Ah," she said, 'but we don't want to get ideas and fancies till we're
sure, do we?  "

"I feel very uneasy."

"That's a good sign.  You'll be on your guard."

"So many strange things are happening.  Fritz walking in his sleep ..
"

"He's done that often."

What of Dagobert?  "

The young monkey got hold of someone's laudanum bottle and took a swig
or two.  Nobody would be very surprised at

that.  We know what he is.  He's into everything.  "

"It's too glib an explanation," I said, 'following on what happened to
me.  "

"We'll let him sleep it out.  He'll be himself before the day's out."

We went back to the schoolroom.

Fritz was telling Liesel: "And I dreamed that someone came in and
picked me up and I was carried away and away ... and I was in a new
country and there was a horse ... a horse with a man on it and the man
had a crown on his head .. all polished it was."

That afternoon I was in my room when there was a tap on the door.  I
called "Come in' and Prinzstein entered.

"I have the carriage below.  Miss Trant," he said.  The Duchess sent a
message that I was to take you to the Land- haus.  She is holding a
meeting there of those who are to help her in the hospital.  "

"I had no message," I said.

"It came some time ago.  I told Freda to tell you.  I believe Frau
Graben called her away for something.  She must have forgotten it.  I
hope you will not be too angry with her.  She is of a nervous nature
and the fire in the turret-room upset her, so she is not herself."

"I understand, of course, but I am not ready."

"Perhaps you will be as quick as possible.  Miss Trant.  We must not
keep Her Grace waiting."

The idea of meeting that woman again made me very apprehensive.  This
time, however, there would be others there -her helpers.  I knew that
war was very close indeed.  It seemed inevitable now; and she would
naturally wish to get her hospital into working order as soon as
possible.

I changed my dress and combed my hair.  I wanted to look as attractive
as I could.  That would give me courage in the presence of the woman
who believed herself to be Maximilian's wife.

Fifteen minutes after Prinzstein had knocked at my door we were driving
to 1;he Landhaus.  We drove to the town and then through the valley to
the other side of the mountain.  There it stood a yellowish-gold
coloured castle, smaller than Klocksburg but beautifully perched on the
hillside among the pine woods.  We drove through the gates under the
castellated tower into a courtyard.

We entered the castle and I saw that the Ritterscud had already been
made into a ward and several beds had been placed side by side.

Prinzstein led me to a small room at which was a table with chairs
placed round it.  On the table was a bottle of wine and several
glasses, with a plate of little spiced cakes.

"It seems that I am not late after all," I said.

"Her Grace and the other ladies have not yet arrived.  Or perhaps they
are inspecting another part of the castle.  Equipment is being brought
in every day.  Her Grace's instruction was that I was to offer you
refreshment as soon as you arrived."

"Thank you.  I prefer to wait for the others."

"Her Grace said immediately you arrive.  She will not be pleased if you
refuse.  This wine is from the vines of Klarenbock.  She sets great
store by it and I will warn you she likes everyone to praise it.  She
will no doubt ask your opinion.  She says it is better than anything
that comes from the French wine-growing country or the Moselle
district."

"I would rather wait."

He poured a glass.

"Just taste it," he said, 'and as soon as you see her, take an
opportunity of telling her how good is the flavour.  "

I sipped it.  I could taste nothing special about it.  He offered me
one of the spiced cakes.  They were similar to those which Frau Graben
ate in such quantities, and I refused.

Prinzstein went on to say that it would not be long before war was
declared.  He reckoned he would have to go.  There would be changes.

Wars were terrible.

He left me sipping the wine and said he would go and see if anyone was
arriving.  He left me in the room for a few moments and when he came
back said that Her Grace had arrived and had gone straight up to the
rooms at the top of the castle which would be used for those who were
not badly wounded; and she wished me to join her and the others
there.

Prinzstein led the way.  We climbed a broad staircase to a landing and
then mounted a spiral stair.  This was very similar to Klocksburg and
the room I entered bore a resemblance to the turret-room there.

She was there and, to my surprise, alone.  There was something
different about her.  Her expression was as cold as it had been on that
other occasion but there was an excitement behind it.  She appeared to
be suppressing some inner emotion.

Ah, Miss Tmat," she said, 'it was good of you to come so promptly."

"I feared I might have kept you waiting.  I understand you are calling
together several of those who will help in the hospital."

"There is someone here.  She will come in shortly.  Perhaps you would
like to see the view while you are waiting.  There is a door leading
out to a little tower.  It's called the Cats' Tower.  You have seen
such towers before, I am sure.  Boiling oil and missiles used to be
thrown down on invaders from them.  The noise it made was like
screaming cats.

You can imagine that, I am sure.  Miss Trant.  "

Yes," I said.

The view is magnificent, is it not?  Straight down the steep side of
the mountain to the valley.  Do you wonder what it would be like to
plunge straight down to .  death.  "

"Such a thought had not entered my mind."

"Had it not?  It is a way to die.  You know, of course, of the legend
at Klocksburg.  A young woman years ago threw herself out of the window
there.  The room is said to be haunted."

"I know of that-yes."

"Well, you know Klocksburg well.  But you are not superstitious You are
practical ... the sort I shall need in my hospital, I am sure.

That girl killed herself because she had been deceived .  a mock
marriage with one of the Dukes.  One can understand in a way.  Can you
understand.  Miss Trant?  "

She was standing very close to me, her eyes inscrutable; and for the
second time I had the alarming feeling that I was in great danger.  I
grasped the stone balustrade firmly.  I saw her eyes go to my clenched
hands.

"It's a strange afternoon," she said.

"Do you feel it?  There's a humidity in the air.  Does it make you feel
sleepy?"

I replied that on the contrary I felt very wide awake.

"Let us go inside for a moment," she said.

"There is some thing I have to say to you."

I was relieved to get away from the tower.  She sat down and signed to
me to take a chair.

When we were seated she said: "You are aware.  Miss Trant, that I know
a good deal about you."

"I have no idea what you know about me."

"About you ... and my husband.  I have learned that there was a
ceremony in a hunting lodge.  Do you really believe that was a true
marriage?"

I knew I had to speak then.  It was a real marriage," I said.

"I am his wife."

"In that case, who am I?"

"You are not his wife."

"It is not possible for a Princess of Klarenbock to be in the position
you suggest I am in."

"It is possible.  Moreover, it is a fact."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I mean that it is not possible for such a slur on our house to be
accepted.  Do you understand that you are in acute danger?"

I stood up.

"I think we should discuss this when Maximilian returns."

"We are going to settle it now."

"How can we without him?  He is planning to tell you.  It is no fault
of his, yours or mine that we are in this position."

"I am not concerned with faults.  I merely tell you that it cannot
be."

"But if it is ...?"

"It may be now but it must not be tomorrow.  What did you think of the
wine?  We are proud of it in Klarenbock."

She was looking at me steadily and a horrible possibility dawned on
me.

"Yes," she said, 'the wine was drugged.  Don't think we have poisoned
you.  Not at all.  You are just sleepy .  nothing more.  When you are
so far gone that you know nothing at all, you will be carried out to
the Cats' Tower and gently dropped down into the valley.  "

I cried: "This is madness."

"It would be madness to let you live.  Miss Trant."

I could not stop staring at her, although my greatest impulse was to
run as fast as I could down the spiral stair and out to Prinzstein and
the waiting carriage.

"It will be the old story," she said quietly.

"The deceived woman ... the plunge to death.  It is becoming so usual.
Even in keepers daughters do it now."

She laughed in an odd way.  Then she looked up at me and went on: "The
wine is taking care of you."

"I scarcely touched it," I replied.

"A little would suffice.  You will feel nothing.  It is an easy way
out.

Easier than it would have been because this time you will know nothing.
They should have managed better.  It was a simple thing.

Frieda is quite stupid.  "

"You mean that Frieda was aware's a ."

"People are aware sometimes, Miss Trant.  Why don't you sit down?  You
must be feeling very strange."  She passed her hand over her eyes and
murmured: "The fools.  They should have managed better.  Where are you
going.  Miss Trant?"  I was at the door and about to leave her when she
added: "It is no use.  Prinzstein will not let you go.  He failed in
the Klocks- burg room.  He will not fail in this one."

"Prinzstein," I stammered.

"He is a good servant."

"A good servant to me.  He has served me well and would have done so
last night but for that stupid wife of his."

My hand was on the door handle.  I tried to turn it but could not.  The
horrible thought struck me that I was locked in.  But I was wrong.  The
reason the door would not open was because someone was holding it,
trying to turn it and come in.

"Who is there?"  I called.

The door opened and Ilse walked in.

"Ilse!"  She hobbled towards me with the aid of a stick.  I stared at
her in astonishment, for I could not believe in the first seconds that
it was really Ilse.

"Yes," she said.

"It is.  You are right, Helena."

"What are you doing here?  I have so much to say to you."

"Yes, of course, Helena.  You see I have grown infirm since we last
met, I cannot walk very easily."

She sat down in the chair I had vacated.

"I have so wanted to find you," I cried.

She looked at the Duchess, who was staring into space in an
extraordinary manner.  She smiled at her fondly but the Duchess did not
appear to see her.

"She is my sister," said Ilse, 'my half-sister.  I was the result of
one of those light love- affairs which are so prevalent in high places.
I was brought up in the shadow of the palace, but never being part of
it. I always loved my little sister, though.  She is fifteen years
younger than I. "

"I think she is ill."

"She is heavily drugged.  She has taken the draught that was meant for
you.  It should be you who would be sitting there, Helena.  That was
the plan.  You were to be unconscious, in a stupor, and then we were
going to take you out to the tower and let you fall over.  Prinzstein
was to have done it in the turret-room at Klocksburg.  It would have
been so much more appropriate there.  But they bungled it.  Her Grace
was furious with them."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Have you brought me here to murder me?"

"You have guessed aright, Helena.  You were brought here to be disposed
of.  But I am not a murderess.  They would say it was a weakness in
me."

"You are talking in riddles," I said.

"Explain to me.  She wants me dead because I am Maximilian's
wife-that's true.  I know.  She brought me here to kill me."

"You must not judge her harshly.  She does not regard it as murder.  It
is a state of affairs that cannot be allowed to continue.  She ... the
Duke's mistress!  It is impossible.  His having a wife already cannot
be tolerated.  It is statecraft, she would say.  Sometimes people have
to die for it and in strange circumstances.  She plans that when you
are dead she and the Duke will be secretly married and few will be the
wiser as to what has gone before.  I have been brought up more rigidly.
I see the deliberate killing of one person by another as murder.  So I
am here to look after you both.  I looked after you once before ... you
don't realize what I did for you.  I could so easily have ... disposed
of you then.  But I didn't.  I looked after you, I made everything easy
for you ..."

"Easy!  That ... easy!  Listen, Ilse, I want to know exactly what
happened ... right from the beginning."

"I'll tell you.  A husband was found for me.  Ernst ambassador from
Rochenstein.  I married him and persuaded him to work for my country,
Klarenbock.  This sometimes meant working against Rochenstein.  Ernst
was a friend of Prince Maximilian before he came to Klarenbock and when
he went back to Rochenstein with me as his wife, he had a post in the
Prince's entourage.  He learned of Maximilian's meeting with you and
his obsession.  Ernst had to go to London to see a heart specialist and
he offered to bring you back."

"So you posed as my cousin."

The fact that your mother was a native of these parts made that easy.

We brought you back and arranged that you and Maximilian should meet on
the Night of the Seventh Moon.  There was the marriage.  We believed it
would be a mock marriage with a pseudo-priest, and when we discovered
that Maximilian was so besotted that he had gone through a genuine
ceremony we could see that this was disaster to the

treaty which was being made between Rochenstein and Klarenbock.  I was
working for my native country and I realized that I had to act quickly.
The Prince went away after the brief honeymoon because a rebellion was
brewing and he had to be with his father.  I should have left you in
the lodge to be blown up, but I couldn't do it.  My sister says that
was the greatest mistake I ever made.  From her point of view, I dare
say it was, but I had come to look upon you as my little cousin.  I was
fond of you.  I thought I would get you back to England and no one
would be the wiser.  So I destroyed the evidence of the marriage your
lines and ring; and with the help of the doctor who was working with us
we tried to convince you that you had lost six days of your life when
you lost your virtue.  I don't know how we did it.  "

"You never did," I said.

"You never convinced me."

"I feared not.  And then you discovered you were going to have a child
-a child who would be the legitimate heir to the dukedom!  Ernst said I
was a fool.  I should first have kept you in the lodge when we blew it
up, for after all it was blown up that we might convince Maximilian
that you were dead.  You should have been dead in truth, Ernst said.

But I couldn't do it.  I preferred to take a chance in building up that
fabric of lies, as you call it.  But when the child was coming and all
the terrible complications with it, even I began to waver.  But I saved
you, Helena.  It would not have been difficult to get rid of you at
that time.  But I couldn't do it, and because we had people placed
strategically over the country who could be used in any situation to
work for Klarenbock I believed I could delude you and so save your
life.  "

"You were good to me.  Ilse."

"I don't think you realize even now how good.  My sister will never
forgive me.  I saved your life and then I allowed her to marry-or go
through a form of marriage-knowing of your existence.  I am not going
to let her kill you now.  Maximilian and you must proclaim the truth
without delay, whatever the consequences.  For the sake of you and the
boy ..."

"The boy?"

"Your son."

"My son.  I have no son.  My daughter, they told me, 'died."

"You know now that was untrue.  You went to Dr.  Kleine.  He reported
to me at once and I could see that things were reaching a climax.  My
sister discovered what had happened.  Frederic knows.  You and the boy
are in acute danger.  I have

saved you today.  Good luck has saved you both before.  Neither can go
on doing so.  "

"My son ..."  I repeated.

Fritz.  "

"Fritz ... my son!  My child was a girl.  She would not be as old as
Fritz."

"He is your child.  We had to make it appear that he was older so that
he was not connected with what happened at Dr.  K-lei ne clinic.  Oh,
if you had stayed in England this would never have happened.  My
sister's son would have inherited;

the marriage in the lodge would have been of no importance.  But
because I am a sentimental woman who grew fond of you, because-spy that
I am-I have never killed and cannot kill1 have ruined my sister's life.
 "

"What will happen now?"  I asked.

"You will take the greatest care if you are wise.  You will guard your
life as you never guarded anything before.  And you will watch over
your son because he is in even greater danger."

"There have been attempts on Fritz's life."

"They will not always fail.  My sister was determined to remove you.

But there is a more powerful force which seeks to remove your son.  "

I could only stare at her in speechless horror.

"Count Frederic!"  she said.

"He has learned the truth.  He has discovered the priest who performed
the ceremony.  He has spies everywhere ... even as we have.  He has
been suspicious for some time.  He will now try to discredit Maximilian
with the help perhaps of my father.  I don't know whether he will
succeed in that.  My father is an honourable man but the thought of
what has happened to his daughter will incense him.  But Frederic will
think that it is useless to depose Maximilian while he has a son to
follow him.  Frederic wants the dukedom for himself.  He has always
wanted it ... as his father did;

and it is very likely that in view of the scandal which this is
inevitably going to bring about, the people of Rochenstein will reject
Maximilian.  But the Duke will then be Fritz because he is the direct
heir.  The boy is too young to rule and his father might well be
appointed Regent.  That would not suit Frederic.  If Fritz did not
stand in his way when Maximilian was deposed, the dukedom would almost
certainly fall to Frederic.  You must realize the importance of these
politics, because you are involved in them your child is involved in
them.  For God's sake watch over him.  He is in imminent danger from
the most ruthless man in Rochenstein.  "

"I must go back to Klocksburg," I said.

"I shall tell Fritz I am his mother.  I shall care for him.  And I
shall never let him out of my sight."

She nodded.

"I will tell Prinzstein to drive you back immediately."

I looked at the Duchess.

"I shall care for her," said Ilse, her face softening.

"Oh, Helena, what a lot of trouble would have been avoided if you had
not got lost in the mist that day when you went out on the school
picnic."

She called Prinzstein.  He looked astonished.  Doubtless he was
surprised to be ordered to drive me home instead of to assist in
throwing me down to death from the Tower of the Screaming Cats.

As the carriage clattered into the courtyard, Frau Graben came running
out.

"It's you.  Where have you been?  He's back."

My heart leaped with joy.  I could have forgotten everything in that
moment but that Maximilian was back and that he would be here under
this roof with me and our son.

"Where is he?"  I cried.

"Come along in," replied Frau Graben, 'and calm yourself.  He's back, I
said.  Back in Rochenstein.  I didn't say he was here in Klocksburg. 
He was here.  He's gone looking for you.  "

"Where has he gone?"

"Now, now be calm I said.  It's not like you.  Miss Trant, to be
otherwise.  Maxi came here shortly after you'd gone.  He's just home
and the first thing he did was come to you."

"But where is he now?"

"It was Dagobert.  He said he'd heard Prinzstein say you were going to
the Landhaus to see the Duchess.  My goodness!  He was in a fret
then.

He was as bad as you.  He wouldn't stop a minute.  He was off.  "

"He would have been too late if ..."

She looked at me oddly.

"Here, you'd better come and sit down.  I'll get you a cup of tea."

"Not now.  I couldn't drink it."  I had to talk to someone.  I had to
tell the news that I had a son and he was alive and that I already
loved him dearly.  I wanted to tell Maximilian, but Prau Graben would
have to do.

I blurted out: "I have just heard that Fritz is my son."

"There," she said beaming.

"I guessed that.  It all fits, doesn't it?  I knew a good deal, but
there were things I wasn't sure of.  You sit still for a minute. You're
shocked or dazed or something.  What happened up at the Landhaus?  She
sent for you.  I was worried and, by the looks of him, so was Maxi.  He
wouldn't stop a minute.  He was off and no explanations either.  Yes, I
guessed about Fritzi.  Hildegarde put two and two together.  She knew
it was a true marriage, I suspect, and she thought it best that you
were spirited away to England and forgotten. That was what she would
think was best for Maxi and what was best for Maxi was what she
wanted."

I was scarcely listening.  I was thinking of Maximilian's arriving at
the Landhaus.  He would find his wife drugged and helpless .  and Ilse.
She would explain to him and send him back.  So there was nothing to do
but wait until he came.  But I must see Fritz.  I must tell him that he
had a mother after all.  Perhaps Maximilian and I ought to tell him
together.  We could all three share the wonderful moment.

Frau Graben went on talking.

"Hildegarde took Fritz when he was born.

She knew who he was and loved him dearly.  She connived at the
gunpowder affair and she confessed a good deal to me when she was
dying.  That was when I took over Fritzi.  Then of course I began to
learn things.  What a situation I' She chuckled.  How she loved to
interfere in people's lives, to bring about dramatic situations and
watch people's reactions to them.

"You were for Maxi... there was no doubt about that.  He changed after
he lost you.  One night he was ill feverish ... rambling.  It was all
about you ... your name .. that bookshop and the town where you lived.
I got it all by degrees and I thought: My Maxi will never be the same
without her and so I brought you here to him my gift to Maxi on the
Night of the Seventh Moon.  Of course I planned for you to be happy in
some little schloss.

No one would have known what it was all about .  except me.  You would
have been his true love.  Princes lead their state lives with their
state wives and have their loves in secret.  Why not Maxi?  "

oh, Frau Graben, how you have meddled in our lives!  " I cried.

"But what have I brought you but good, eh?  And now what will happen?

This could be trouble with Klarenboek.  They'll say we've insulted
their Princess.  Maxi never wanted her,

though.  Cold as an icicle.  She was no wife for him.  I thought we'd
all be happy together and there'd be the babies, and no one know the
truth but me and what a chuckle I'd have over that.  And up at the big
schloss there'd be the Duchess and her son who'd be the heir and none
the wiser.  That was how I'd planned it.  And then things started to
happen. There was the arrow in Fritzi's hat and the bandits who took
Dagobert by mistake, and there was that silly affair in the turret-room
that gave them away.  They put a sedative in Fritzi's milk and he only
drank a little which didn't put him to sleep properly.

Dagobert took the rest and went off altogether.  Then Fritz went on
about the horse and the man with a crown.  I know that it's in their
room.  It's a carving Prinzstein made himself and polished and is very
proud of.  It was Prinzstein who was waiting for you up there when
Frieda took you up, but the silly creature by good luck dropped the
candle and the matches caught fire.  If you'd turned and seen
Prinzstein the game would have been up.  So he fled.  He was hiding
behind the door as I came up and slipped down the stairs after me.  But
I knew what had happened.  I'd suspected he was working for Klarenbock
and that silly little Frieda would do as he said.  "

"They were going to kill me," I told her, 'and she was going to do it
this afternoon.  I wish Maximilian would come.  "

"He'll come straight back here when he finds you left the Landhaus."

"I must see Fritz.  I can't wait to tell him.  This is going to make
him so happy."

"He loves you.  I'll swear if he could choose a mother she would be
you.  Talk about dreams coming true!  You took to him from the start,
didn't you?  I wonder if it's true that mothers would know their own no
matter what had separated them."

"I was drawn to him and he to me.  I must find him.  I'm going to him
now."

I left but she followed me out to the Randhausburg, into the
fortress.

I went up to Fritz's room.  He was not there.  He was nowhere in the
fortress.

As we came down the stairs and out to the courtyard I saw Dagobert.

"Have you seen Fritz?"  I called.

Yes, he's gone off.  It's not fair.  "

"Not fair?  What's not fair?"

"My father took us into the forest riding and then sent me back."

I felt as though my blood had turned cold.

"Sent you back," I repeated.

"Yes, and Fritz was to go alone to the Island of Graves ... to the
empty grave with the planks across."

"Why?"  I stammered.

"Because he's a coward and he's got to learn not to be.  He's got to
row over there by himself and wait there and stay till it's dark."

I didn't wait for any more.  I ran to the stable.

Frau Graben was behind me.

"Where are you going?"  she demanded.

"I'm going to the Island of Graves.  Tell Maximilian, there's not a
moment to lose.  Fritz may be in danger."

I rode through the forest seeing only Fritz, my son, a forlorn figure
alone on the Island of Graves with a man who was determined to kill
him.  I myself had faced death twice in a very short time.  Who knew? 
I was probably coming face to face with it again.  I did not care.  All
I thought of was my son.

"On the Island of Graves ... alone!"  I kept hearing those words.

Oh Fritz, my son!  I prayed: "Let me be in time to save him."

I did not ask myself how I could save him from a man who had determined
to kill him.  I only thought that I must be there.  If Maximilian had
not gone to the Landhaus .  if he had waited, but how could he wait
when he believed me to be in danger?

I had reached the lake.  There were no boats there.  I stared in
desolation at the Island.  Then I saw Charon emerge from his house.

"Franz!"  I called.

"Franz!"

He heard me and shaded his eyes to look.  I waved frantically.  He got
into the boat and-slowly, it seemed-rowed towards me.

"Why," he said, 'it's Miss Trant.  "

"I must get to the Island quickly," I cried.

He nodded.

"Where are the boats?"  he said.

"There is generally one here.  They must all be on the other side.
One

should always be there.  But few are in a hurry to get to the Graves.
"

Oh hurry, Charon, I thought.  He sat there bent over the oars, his dark
robes falling about him, eyes peering out from under the grey
straggling brows.

"Why are you in a hurry, Fraulein?"  he asked.

I replied impatiently: "Did you see Fritz?"

He shook his head.

"There are people on the Island today.  I don't see them come but I
know.  I sense them.  Sometimes there is the peace ... the quiet of the
dead ... and then it changes and though I see no one I know.  I never
fail to know.  Today there is no peace.  Perhaps because tomorrow it is
a burial day."

"Someone is to be buried tomorrow?"

The daughter of the innkeeper.  She killed herself, poor soul, but
she's entitled to a place in the burial ground.  She carried a child a
child of the Family.  "

"Poor girl," I said.

"She's past all earthly suffering now.  She will lie in her grave and I
will plant a flower for her.  A rosemary because someone will remember
her."

We had reached the shore.  I leaped out of the boat.

"I am going to look for Fritz," I said by way of explanation;

and I ran as fast as I could to the burial ground and that spot where
the new grave had been dug.  The planks were still across the dark
hole.

I called: "Fritz!  Where are you, Fritz?  I have come for you,
Fritz."

There was no answer.  Could it be that he had disobeyed the Count's
orders and riot come?  He would not dare.  Besides he would want to
prove that he was not afraid.

"Fritz, where are you?  Fritz!"

No sound at all.  Nothing!  I could not see Charon now.  He must have
gone into his little house.  I felt as though I were alone on this
island of the dead.

I did not know which way to turn and I stood for a few seconds staring
down at the grave in which tomorrow a young girl would be laid to
rest.

And then I knew that I was not alone.  I turned sharply.  The Count was
standing a few paces from me.  It flashed into my mind that he had been
watching me from behind one of the bigger tombstones.

Where is Fritz?  " I demanded.

"Do you expect me to know?"

"He was told to meet you here."

"Who told you that?"

"Dagobert.  You told Fritz to come here alone.  I want to know where he
is."

"That is what we should both like to know.  The little coward didn't
come.  Of course, he wouldn't.  He was afraid to."

"He was more afraid of you than of the dead.  I believe he is here
somewhere."

"Where?  Please tell me."

"I should think you'd be better able to tell me."

"Why should we concern ourselves with the tiresome child?  Here we are
together-you and I. So quiet it is.  No one on the island except the
old man and he does not count.  A strange meeting-place ... but at
least we shall be undisturbed.  Old Franz is half dead in any case."

"I came here to look for Fritz."

"And you found me.  Much more interesting, I do assure you."

"Not for me.  I ask you again, where is the child?"

"And I tell you again I have no idea.  Nor do I care.  I was going to
teach him a lesson.  I would rather teach you one."

I started to walk away, but he was beside me.  He caught my arm.

"I have grown weary of the chase," he said.

"It ends here."

I tried to wrench my arm free but I could not.  His evil laughing face
was close to mine.

I said: "I know you lured my child here."

The change in his expression was obvious.  The lust was tinged with a
certain apprehension.

I went on: "I have learned this day who Fritz is.  I know what is in
your mind.  You want Maximilian's heritage.  You are hoping to
discredit him because of his marriage to me.  But you can't discredit
his son.

You have lured him here.  What have you done with him?  I have come
here to take him away to safety.  I am his mother.  "

"You are hysterical," he said.

"I want my son."

"And I want you.  I wonder who is going to be satisfied.  There seems
to be scarcely a doubt.  Do you realize, my dear Duchess, that you are
alone with me on this Island for as I said we cannot count that feeble
old man.  I would throw him

into the lake if he dared interfere.  "

"I despise you," I said.  , That is of no consequence.  You are caught.
There is no escape for you.

You are wise enough to know that.  "

"Please keep away from me."

"Why, when I am pleased to be near you."

"You are wicked.  Do you know for whom that grave has been dug?  For a
girl who trusted you, whom you have betrayed, a girl who has taken her
life because you have made it intolerable for her.  How dare you!  How
can you ... Here ... beside her very grave."

"Don't you see, it adds a touch of piquancy?"

"You disgust me."

*I find that amusing too.  "

I was trembling.  I looked towards the shore.  There was no sign of
anyone.  I knew that if I attempted to run he would overtake me.  There
would be a struggle and although I should employ every bit of strength
I possessed, I knew that he would overcome me.

I cried out: "I want Fritz.  What have you done with him?"

"Now you are being tiresome."

"I insist ..."

"You insist?  You are in no position to insist.  Come, let us be
friends before you die."

"Before ... I die."

"You are not your usual clever self today.  You have accused me of
treason.  The penalty for treason is death.  I do not want to die.  So
I cannot allow you to live after making such an accusation against
me."

"You are mad," I said.  And then I cried out in sudden fear:

"You have killed my son.  " "And now you are going to force me to kill
you.  I shall not enjoy that one little bit.  I shall hate killing a
woman whom I admire, especially one whom I have never really known and
who has not become tiresome to me."

"You have no regret for the death of those who have become tiresome, I
see.  Tell me," I cried, 'have you killed Fritz?  "

He kept his grip on my arm and forced me towards the grave.

"You are a fool after all," he said.

"Perhaps I should have tired quickly of you.  You need never have died.
You could

have lived in retirement with Max.  I should have allowed that.  "

"You are mad," I said.

I could see that this was so.  He was mad with ambition, with the love
of power and the burning desire to take from his cousin all that he had
ever had.

"You will not live to see me rule Rochenstein, but before you die I am
going to show you what kind of lover you turned your back on.  Then I
shall kill you and you shall join your son."

Still gripping me, he kicked aside one of the planks.  I looked down
into the grave.  Fritz was lying there.

"Oh God," I cried, trying to struggle free.  I wanted to go down there,
to bring him up .  my own son who had been taken from me at his birth
and now that he had come back to me was in the grave.

I heard a shout from the bank then.

"Lencheni Lencheni' " Oh thank God," I cried.

"It's Maximilian."

"Too late, cousin," muttered the Count.

"By the time you are here I shall have been both your wife's lover and
murderer.  Then I shall be ready for you.  A triple funeral with some
honours ... and in the royal avenue, I suppose."

He had seized me.  I fought with all my might.  And then suddenly a
shot rang out.  The Count's hold on me was relaxed.  I sprang back in
time to see him stagger like a drunken man -before he fell.  Then I saw
the rich red blood staining the grass.

"Maximilian," I whispered, 'you have killed him.  "

I ran as fast as I could to shore.  Maximilian was getting out of the
boat.  I fell into his arms and he held me against him.  I stayed there
only a second.  I heard myself babbling something about Fritz, my son
lying in a grave.

It is difficult to remember clearly what followed.  I think I was in
too great a state of shock to realize exactly what was happening.

Maximilian had descended into the grave; he held up Fritz; and another
man had appeared on the scene.  He carried a gun which he laid on the
grass while he took Fritz from Maximilian.

He set him down gently on the ground and then Maximilian was beside me
and we were kneeling down beside our son.

I was suddenly aware that the man who had joined us was the
innkeeper.

"He's not dead," said Maximilian.

"We'll get him back to " Klocksburg without delay.  "

"We'll make a stretcher for him," said the innkeeper.

"I'm glad I was there."

"You shot him through the heart," said Maximilian.

"And I'd do it again," replied the innkeeper.

"I meant to get him and I did."

We took Fritz back.  Thank God it had not been the Count's intention to
kill the boy outright, for he could so easily have done so.  He had
knocked Fritz unconscious and thrown him into the grave, to be
discovered the following day when the coffin of the innkeeper's
daughter was brought for burial.  By that time Fritz would have died of
his injuries, exposure or fever; and if he were not quite dead the
Count's spies would have found some way of killing him.  It would
appear, of course, that the boy had fallen into the grave and injured
himself in the fall, I would not let him out of my sight and I was at
his bedside when he regained consciousness so that I was the first
person he saw when he opened his eyes.  I put my face close to his and
whispered: "Fritz.  I am here with you.  We're going to be together for
evermore."  He stared at me wonderingly and I went on: "You always
wanted a mother, Fritz.

Now you have one.  I am your mother.  "

I don't think he understood but my words had a comforting effect on
him.  I longed for the day when he would be well enough to understand
fully the wonderful thing that had happened to us.

The day after that on which the Count had been murdered the French
declared war on the Prussians and all the German states were
involved.

These events dwarfed everything else into insignificance.  As the
Commander-in-Chief of the army, Maximilian had to prepare immediately
to leave for the front.  I was left behind and nursing Fritz back to
health gave me something to work for during those dark days.  I think
the fact that I was his mother was such wonderful news that it speeded
his recovery.

The Prince of Klarenbock, to whom Maximilian had told the whole story
during his visit there, behaved magnanimously.  He said his daughter
must return to Klarenbock; and this she

did in the company of Ilse; I heard later that Wilhelmina had entered
a convent where she hoped to expiate the sin of attempted murder.

Soon after the outbreak of war the innkeeper was tried for the murder
of the Count.  Maximilian had asked for special leniency to be shown,
for as the father of a girl whom the Count had seduced and deserted and
who had killed herself because of this, he had committed the act under
great provocation.

There was a war, said Maximilian, and all good men were needed at the
front.  He would personally vouch for the innkeeper.

And this he did.

While I was nursing Fritz back to health I used to talk to him of the
wonderful time we would have when the war was over and he, I and his
father were all together.

We used the Landhaus as a hospital and those were grave and anxious
days when it was good to have plenty to do; but when the terrible
casualties started to come in I was filled with terror lest one day
they should bring in Maximilian.  I don't know what I should have done
without Frau Graben.  I have since discovered that I owe that woman a
great deal.

At last came news of the great victory, the bells rang out from the
Pfarrkirche.  The French were in retreat and the Emperor was cornered
at Sedan.

What joy there was on the day Maximilian came marching home.

We were together again.  I was the first to greet him openly now.  No
more secrets.  The story of our marriage, the death of the Count, the
retirement of Wilhelmina into a convent, the discovery of our son-these
were legends of the past.  They had been swallowed up in the great
event of war.

Maximilian was home 1 There was the great joy of bringing him and Fritz
together.  My son not only had a mother but a father whom he could love
and respect.

The day I was able to say to my son: "Fritz, this is your father 1' and
I saw how it would be with them, I said: " This is the happiest day of
my life.  "

"So far," added Maximilian.

ONE

What followed the battle of Sedan is well-known history.  The French
were utterly defeated; and the result was the unification of the German
states as the German Empire under the leadership of the King of Prussia
who had become the Emperor.  He lived only a few months as Emperor and
then his son William took the imperial title.  The little
principalities and dukedoms were absorbed in, that great Empire.  There
were no longer rulers of small territories; a duke in his schloss was
of little more importance than an English country squire.

This is what happened to Maximilian and that was years ago.

As I write this we are in mourning for the death of Queen Victoria, for
we have strong ties with England.  It is over thirty years since the
battle of the Sedan and I am no longer a young woman.  I have my family
around me.  The eldest is Fritz, nearly a dozen years older than Max.
Then I have my two daughters and another son.  A big family which gives
me great satisfaction.

Fritz is a gentle boy and clever too; he lectures at Bonn University.

The others are married now, with the exception of William, my youngest.
Dagobert and Liesel joined us and when Princess Wilhehnina of
Klarenbock left for her own country her son-who is Maximilian's
too-came to live with us.  Dagobert climbed rapidly in the army, and
Liesel is happily married.

Frau Graben naturally remained with us.  She bullied us, watched over
us and now and then would try to embroil us in those dramatic
situations which so delighted her.  We grew so accustomed to her as
part of our household that when she died at the age of eighty it was
like losing part of ourselves.  She had had a good life.

Several years after Maximilian returned from the front, Anthony
Greville came to visit us with his wife Grace-a pleasant, mild woman, a
typical vicar's wife; she was devoted to Anthony and it was not
difficult to see why.  He was so kind and considerate to everyone. 
When I saw them together I wondered whether I should have been like
Grace if I'd married Anthony, living an easy pleasant life where the
great moments of decisions were whether the mothers' meeting should be
held on Mondays or Wednesdays and who should have which stall at the
sale of work.

Anthony looked at me a little wistfully when I took him round the
schloss garden.

"Are you happy, Helena?"  he asked.

And I replied fervently: "I could never have been completely happy in
any other life."

And when I look back I know that to be true.  I have had my fears and
anxieties; there have been differences between us and great
difficulties to overcome; Maximilian had known what power meant and it
had left its mark on him for ever; he was born to dominate and I don't
think I was born to be dominated.  But whatever our differences we knew
that we belonged together, that there was no true happiness apart from
each other.  I was right when I told Anthony that I could never have
experienced those moments of complete and utter happiness in any other
life; I have known great joy;

perhaps I should say fulfilment those moments when one realizes that
anything that has gone before is worth while to achieve them.

So here I am an old woman, yet I can still recall that terrifying day
on the Island of Graves where I looked straight into the face of death
and learned then how precious life was.  I am immersed in the affairs
of my home; not the political affairs which are no longer our concern
but the domestic ones of those who farm and live on our estate.  I have
my family;

I have Maximilian-I never quite got used to the diminutive form of his
name, for to me he was always the hero of the forest, and he has never
lost that magic quality which enchanted me on our first meeting.

In January of this year Queen Victoria died and this night is the Night
of the Seventh Moon.  Since the unification more than thirty years ago,
the ceremony has not been celebrated, though many remember it and tell
their children of it, and are afraid to go out on that night in case
the God of Mischief should be abroad, What a beautiful night!  With
the full moon high in the s^cy paling the stars to insignificance and
throwing its calm brilliance over the mountains.

I was at my window watching it, when Maximilian came g'nd stood by my
side.  We are two who will never forget the p-Tight of the Seventh Moon
and we shall continue to celebrate it as long as we both shall live.