It was a pretty village—lying as it did at the foot of the hills, which were beautifully wooded, it could scarcely have been ugly. But besides these natural advantages, it was bright and clean; many of the houses, too, were pretty in themselves, with deep roofs and carved balconies, and in some cases many coloured designs painted on the outside walls. Leonore was delighted; it was so different from any place she had ever seen before.
'Oh, Fraulein,' she exclaimed, 'it's like a toy-town. It doesn't look as if real people had built it.'
'But it looks as if very real people had built that, does it not?' said Fraulein, stopping short and drawing Leonore a little backward.
'That' was the grim old Castle, of which they now had the first view, standing lonely and gray up on the heights overlooking the village, like a stern guardian keeping watch on the doings of playful children at his feet.
The little girl gazed at it with all her eyes.
'It's a real Castle,' she exclaimed; 'I am so pleased. It looks as if it had dungeons and—and—forti— What is the word, Fraulein?'
'Fortifications,' said her governess. 'You mean that it is fortified. Yes; at least it used to be in the old days. There are the holes in the walls which the defenders used to shoot through in time of siege, and there are battlements still quite perfect round the front. It is so pleasant to saunter on them, and think of the strange scenes the old place must have witnessed. We can walk up the hill towards the gates if you like, and you will see a little more.'
Leonore, of course, did like, and the nearer they got to the Castle the more was she fascinated by the view of the ancient building. Just outside the entrance they stood still, and Fraulein began pointing out to her its different parts and giving her a little historical account of it, to which she listened with interest. Suddenly—for all was very silent just then—they heard steps approaching and a clear young voice singing softly. And—Fraulein stopped talking and stood gazing before her, as did Leonore, till—from among the trees which bordered the short approach to the inner gateway, there appeared a childish figure, running towards them, singing as she came. A young girl, dressed all in white, with fair floating hair——
'It is Hildegarde,' said Leonore, growing pale with excitement. For the figure was exactly like the little girl in her dream!