"But it surely was no good sign," observed Margaretha, "when he entered into the church, and all the holy images turned to the wall. Alas, dearest sister, I could never look at Sir Kaggé's small sparkling snake-like eye, but it seemed as though all pious and godly images fled from my soul."
"Ah, thou art so unreasonable," exclaimed Ulrica impetuously; "so terribly unreasonable, that it is impossible longer to bear with thee. I shall run from thee as soon as I can,--that I tell thee beforehand; but then," she added half sadly--"ah, then thou must not weep and mourn for me, Margaretha! Wilt thou promise me that? or--wilt thou come too?"
"What art thou thinking of, poor dear child! art thou ever dreaming of flight, and yet canst not find in thy heart to leave me? Make up thy mind to be patient, sweet Ulrica! After all, we cannot escape, and I would not if we could. With all his severity, the king is still good and just, every one here says so; he will surely one day come to know we are innocent, and will let us wander free out of his kingdom; that is the utmost we can hope for, after what hath happened; and this hope I do not give up."
"The king!" resumed Ulrica with vehemence, and with a proud toss of the head; "truly the king is a revengeful, an obstinate, and unjust tyrant. I would tell him so to his face, even were I certain he were my real brother, as people say; but he should beware," she continued, with a look of defiance, "it is neither chivalrous nor kingly, to keep ladies and noble knights' daughters, perhaps even a king's daughter, in prison. I know however of one knight in the world who hath courage to avenge us, and free me from this degradation."
"You terrify me, dear bewildered child! Art thou dreaming again of that fearful greatness, and thinking of ungodly revenge! This comes not of thyself--That dreadful Kaggé can surely never be here again?"
"If he were here, should I tell it to thee, that thou in thy conscientiousness might betray it to the zealous Sir Drost, and that I might see my only friend on the wheel to-morrow?--thus far extends not our sisterhood. A little while ago, I cared for thee, with my whole heart," she continued, in a voice of lamentation, "but now I cannot abide thee; thou dost hate and despise the only human being that cares for me, and thou mightest almost make me fear him did I not know him better--this is not good of thee, Margaretha." She burst into a flood of tears, held both her hands before her eyes, and pushed away her sorrowing and sympathising sister, with her pretty elbows.
"Weep not, be not naughty and wroth, dearest Ulrica," entreated Margaretha. "I hate no living soul in the world. Perhaps even Kaggé may be better than I think; but if he is here and thou canst send a message to him, then for heaven's sake, beseech him to fly, and not plot more mischief."
"No, no!" said Ulrica, impatiently, and stamping with her little feet, without, however, taking her hands from her eyes. "Who says he is here? Would he were here, and was going to help me hence! If I were once gone, thou wouldst miss me though, Margaretha! Then thou wouldst rue having made me so naughty and wroth and untoward to-night. Now thou mayst sit down at thine ease, and think how thou wilt be able to make me good again--I am going to my couch without even kissing thee, and bidding thee good night," so saying, she ran to her couch, sprang into it with her clothes and shoes on, and drew up the down quilt quite over her head.
Margaretha seated herself on the side of the couch, and spoke gently and soothingly to her. She would have taken the thick down quilt from her face, but the little self-willed maiden held it fast with both hands, and appeared to be strongly convulsed under it. Margaretha became alarmed and feared she was ill; at last she was nearly weeping herself; but Ulrica presently set up a loud laugh, and sprang from under the quilt. "Look! now! am good again!" she said, playfully, and hopped a graceful dancing step. "Come now, Margaretha, and thou shalt see all my finery; for I will be present at the gay dance to-morrow, that I tell thee; and if thou dost not let me slip out of the door with little Karen, I jump out of the window and break my neck,--then thou wilt be quit of me. Come and thou shalt see all my fine things!" so saying, she threw her arms round her grave sister's neck, kissed her and skipped with her into the little tiring chamber.