Lady Ingé and her maidens now for the first time noticed the tread of spurred heels on the floor. They rose in astonishment, and Lady Ingé with unwonted precipitation. They perceived three strangers in the middle of the hall. One was in the dress of a huntsman, and the two others were clad as citizens on a journey; nevertheless, under their gray cloaks they had long swords, like those worn by knights. It was Sir Rimaardson, with Drost Peter, and Sir Thorstenson. The mien and expression of the fair songstress, on their entrance, astonished them; and they remained standing, unwilling to interrupt her.
They now approached with much politeness, and saluted the knight's fair daughter. Although they were not dressed as knights, their bearing and manners instantly denoted them to be men of high station and dignity; and Lady Ingé supposed them the distinguished guests of whom her father had spoken. The first glance at their interesting and friendly countenances gave her confidence.
"You are welcome, noble sirs," said she, with entire self-possession, and returning their salute. "My father has been expecting you, and has ridden out to meet you. You must have come by another road than he anticipated. Your groom or squire has doubtless told you that there are no strangers here?"
"We have only this instant arrived, noble lady," began Sir Thorstenson; "and our squire could have told us nothing regarding the state of the house, seeing that he has not yet penetrated farther than the stables. That your father has expected us, we cannot at all suppose: indeed, we thought we should have surprised him."
"To our astonishment, the gates were opened to us without any one inquiring our name or business," said Sir Rimaardson. "This confidence is flattering. Your song, fair maiden, we would not dare to disturb: it was an assurance that, even although unknown, we should be welcome to you, as men true to our king and country."
"For none else stands this castle open," replied Ingé. "Your names and errand no one may presume to inquire about, noble sirs. You are specially welcome to my father, I can assure you." So saying, she regarded their manly, honest countenances with satisfaction and confidence.
Drost Peter had not yet said a word, but stood perplexed, and almost bashfully, before her, with a singular expression of surprise and melancholy, and with a kind of dreamy pleasure in his calm, earnest look.
"Step nearer, gentlemen," continued Lady Ingé, with a light heart, and completely relieved from any doubt of disloyalty in her father's connections, and from every uneasiness regarding the mysterious guests expected: "you find here an open lady's room, where, truth to say, I am glad to see the friends of my father, who can occupy his place in his absence. He left me half an hour since, to return in an hour if he did not meet you. A fellow, who represented himself as your groom, almost frightened me in the dusk of the evening. The castle, at other times, is never so accessible. Under these circumstances, you are to me the more welcome. If you would please to take refreshment, gentlemen, it is already prepared."
The knights looked at each other with astonishment.
"Some mistake must have occurred here, noble lady," said Sir Rimaardson; "but, if you will permit us, we shall avail ourselves of it, and defer the explanation until your father arrives."