"'Nonsense, my dear fellow,' he said, 'you can't lodge ladies in this barrack. It's all very well for two watchmen, or for you, if you like, to rough it—but for women—nonsense, it is impossible.'
"'But,' I remarked, 'they are very enterprising, and one of them, who is writing a book, loves queer corners, odd experiences, and native life.'
"'I daresay,' replied he, 'but this Castle, I repeat, is impossible, especially for Englishwomen, who are all accustomed to much luxury.'
"Back into the town I went again to try for rooms, but without success. What was to be done? You were on the way, time was growing short, and I had arranged nothing. So once more to my watchman I returned and told him my awful dilemma, and the depths of my despair. He so thoroughly entered into the spirit of the thing, that he promised to do the best he could, and in an hour's time he had arranged for extra towels and a few necessaries to be sent over from the town."
"Delightful!" we exclaimed; "what a dear man! It is like a romance in a story book."
"But my story is not finished," Grandpapa replied, with a rueful face; "we had set to work to sweep, and brush, and clean with a will, in order to make the room more worthy of its occupants, when the Vahtimestari suddenly said—
"'I'm afraid, after all, you will have to go and get permission from the Mayor, or I may get into trouble for allowing ladies to sleep in this ruined Castle.'"
Here was an adventure. Our hearts quailed a little as we waited breathlessly for the finish of the story.
"I got into the boat," went on our friend, "pulled on shore, and set off to the Mayor, in order to obtain permission for you to sleep there. At first he sternly refused.
"'Ridiculous!' he said, 'bats and owls, goblins and ghosts! that is not a fit home for ladies—ridiculous, and quite impossible.'