When the end of the second week came, Katrina wound the scarlet and gold tapestry around her slender body, under her blue velvet gown, so that her uncle should not see it. All day long she waited for him, but he did not come until dusk. The key turned slowly in the rusty lock. Her uncle stood before her.
“Girl! Katrina!” he shouted, for he was frightened by her white face. “Have you come to your senses? Are you ready to marry King Rupert?”
“Never! I will never marry King Rupert,” Katrina answered, looking at her uncle with flashing blue eyes so like those of his dead brother, her father, that the uncle swore a terrible oath to keep up his courage, and said very fast, though his teeth chattered: “Down—to—the—dungeon—with—you! Food—only—once—a—day. One—small—candle—for—the—night. Be—ready—to—marry—King—Rupert—at—the—end—of—a—week—or—you—will—have—a—harder—time.”
With trembling hands the coward uncle put a key into a keyhole in the floor, raised a trap-door by an iron ring, and pushed Katrina down the dark stairs. She lifted her white face bravely and said: “Never will I do your bidding;” then the trap-door closed over her head.
Down into the darkness the beautiful princess felt her way. After a few moments she could see, by the dim light that came in from the one window, a rough wooden bench, a stool, and a pile of dry leaves in one corner. Outside the window, the oak leaves were very thick. Katrina reached through the iron bars and broke the leaves from the nearest branches. The strong stems hurt her hands, but she gained a little more light and air.
Before the dim twilight faded away, brave Katrina stirred the dry leaves on the stone floor and found to her great comfort that there were no creeping things underneath. After putting her scarlet-and-gold tapestry over the leaves to make a bed for herself, she lighted her one candle, and placing it upon the wooden bench before the window, sat down beside it. Darkness had hardly fallen before she heard the pick! pick! as of iron upon stone, and lo! the sounds seemed close at her side.
Suppose the sounds were some plan of her uncle’s to frighten her? For a moment Katrina’s courage sank at the thought. But just then she heard a muffled voice ask: “Are you there, Princess?”
“Yes,” she answered faintly. “Who are you?” The dungeon walls were thicker than the walls above; Katrina could only press so near the window as to see a gray figure outside.
“Your friend, the Gray Owl,” said the low voice. “We must not talk much, for fear some one hear us. But keep a good heart.”
Each day of that third week the princess worked a little while with the shining gold silk upon the tapestry; it was so dark in the dungeon that she could not see, even at noonday, to use the scarlet silk. She felt very faint, because she had only one meal a day, of bread and water, and she gave some of the bread to her daily visitor, the squirrel, who grew very thin without his usual nuts. She begged him every day to go to the elf and have his teeth mended, but he always answered: “It is a long way, and I will not go until you are saved.”