"Thanks, Highness, thanks!" Gretchen was hysterical.
The Stein-schloss had been the feudal keep; now it served as the city prison. Its grim gray stones were battle-scarred and time-worn; a place of deep dungeons, huge bolts and bars, and narrow slits in the stone for windows. The prison was both civil and military, but was patrolled and sentineled by soldiers. The king and his uncle had been given adjoining cells on the ground floor. These cells were dry, and light entered from the modern windows in the wall of the corridor. The princess and her protégée were admitted without objection. The sergeant in charge of that floor even permitted them to go into the corridor unattended.
Voices.
"Hush!" whispered her highness, pressing Gretchen's arm.
"Ach! Wail, dear nephew, beat your hands upon the bars, curse, waste your breath on stone. Did I not warn you against this very thing when you proposed this mad junket? Well, there are two of us. A fine scandal! They will laugh at us for months to come."
"Woe to the duke for this affront!"
Gretchen started to speak, but the princess quickly put her hand over the goose-girl's mouth.
"Ha! So war is gathering in your veins?"
"I will have revenge for this!"
"Good! Bang—bang! Slash and cut! War is a great invention—on paper. Come, my boy; you were sensible enough when they brought us here. Control yourself. Be a king in all the word implies. For my part, I begin to see."