In that room there was an iron door, leading somewhere into the mysterious rooms of the castle, in which no living human voice was heard.
The day was breaking. The swallows flew round the windows. Cosel returned to her rooms. The women servants that accompanied her woke up and offered to serve her. She dismissed them. Having stayed her hunger with some warm milk, she went again to the window; she sat on the stone bench and began to look on God's world, although she had nobody in it. She turned her eyes on the road, where she noticed some vans, men, and herds--clouds of dust. But she soon tired of them and sat at a distance from the window.
The hours were long. At noon they brought her luncheon. One of the servants persuaded her to eat. Cosel went to the table, and, looking at the modest meal, began to cry. The luncheons at which she entertained the King were different!
Then again she went to the window and looked on to the road, not willing to avow to herself that she hoped to see some one there. She believed that Zaklika would seek her out.
But neither on that nor the following day did she see anything except shepherds, herds, and vans. No one looked at the castle. She wandered from window to window; but all round the country was quiet and deserted. Towards evening she perceived a small peasant boy picking flowers near the wall, and she threw him a piece of money that she found in her pocket, and, leaning out, she asked him the name of the castle. The boy muttered, "Nossen," and ran away frightened.
She did not know even the name, but she remembered to have heard it, and guessed she was in the vicinity of Meissen and Dresden. She again thought of Zaklika, but what could he do alone against walls, guards, and the King?
The third day she was looking on the road when towards noon she noticed a horseman. He was riding slowly from the direction of Dresden.
He dropped his reins and looked curiously round the country; he had raised his head towards the castle. He seemed to be looking for something. He wore a grey mantle, and she thought it was her faithful servant. She shivered, and began to wave her handkerchief.
The cavalier had also taken out his handkerchief, and, apparently wiping his forehead, made signs with it. It was indeed Zaklika. His mien and his movements were easily recognized, even from a distance. Her heart began to throb. He at least did not forget her; he could save her.
Riding slowly and looking at the castle, he disappeared behind the hill.