CHAPTER III.
THE STRANGERS.
To tell the terrors of deep untried,
What toils we suffer'd, and what storms defied;
What mountain surges, mountain surges lash'd,
What sudden hurricanes the canvass dash'd;
To tell each horror in the deep reveal'd,
Would ask an iron throat with tenfold vigour steel'd.
Lusiad of Camoens.
"How now, Anna! thou lookest as pale as if all the gnomes of the Silverbergen, or Nippen and Zernebok to boot, had been about thee. Art thou affrighted by the storm, child?" asked Erick, pinching the soft cheek of his niece, who at that moment had entered the hall, and glided to his side in one of the great windows.
Her only reply was to clasp her hands upon his arm, and look up in his face with a fond smile.
Anna Rosenkrantz was the only daughter of Svend of Aggerhuis, the governor's younger brother, who had fallen in battle with the Holsteiners. In stature she was rather under the middle height; and so full and round was her outline, that many might have considered it too much so, but for the exquisite fairness of her skin, the beauty of her features, and the grace pervading every motion. Norway is famed for its fair beauties, but the lustre of Anna's complexion was dazzling; her neck and forehead were white as the unmelting snows of the Dovrefeldt. From under the lappets of a little velvet cap, which was edged by a row of Onslo pearls, her dark-brown ringlets flowed in heavy profusion, and seemed almost black when contrasted with the neck on which they waved. Her eyes were of a decided grey, dark, but clear and sparkling. The curve of her mouth and chin were very piquant and arch in expression; her smile was ever one of surpassing sweetness, and at times of coquetry.
A jacket of black velvet, fashioned like a Bohemian vest, trimmed with narrow edgings of white fur, and studded with seed pearls, displayed the full contour of her beautiful bust; but unhappily her skirt was one of those enormous fardingales which were then becoming the rage over all Europe.
"Have the roaring of the wind and the screaming of the water-sprite scared thee, Anna?" continued the old man, who, like a true Nordlander, believed every element to be peopled by unseen spirits and imps. "By the bones of Lodbrog!" he added, patting her soft cheek with his huge bony hand, "my mind misgave me much that this last year's sojourn at the palace of Kiobenhafen would fairly undo thee."
"How, good uncle?" said Anna, blushing slightly.
"By tainting thine inbred hardiment of soul, my little damsel, and making thee, instead of a fearless Norse maiden, and a dweller in the land of hills and cataracts, like one of those sickly moppets whom I have seen clustered round the tabouret of Frederick's queen, when, for my sins, I spent a summer at his court during the war with Christian II., that tyrant and tool of the Dutch harlot, Sigiberta."