"They must talk of the matter at Wolgast, for nothing could be decided upon without having the opinion of his cousin the Duchess."

So the knight taking this as a half-promise, and Sidonia having at last consented, they all set off on Friday with a good south wind in their favour, and by that same evening were landed by the little water-gate at Wolgast. His Highness was received with distinguished honours—the ten knights of her Grace's new household being in waiting to receive him as he stepped on shore.

So they proceeded to the castle, the Duke having Sidonia upon one arm, and a Cain under the other, which he had been carving during the passage, for the Eve had long since been finished. Otto followed; and all the people, when they beheld Sidonia, uttered loud cries of joy that the dear young lady had come back to them.

This increased her arrogance, so that when her Grace received her, and began a godly admonishment upon her past levities, and conjured her to lead a modest, devout life for the future, Sidonia replied indiscreetly—"She knew not what her Grace and her parson meant by a modest, devout life, except it were learning the catechism of Dr. Gerschovius; from such modesty and devoutness she begged to be excused, she was no little school-girl now—she thought her Grace had got rid of all her whims and caprices, by sending for her after having turned her out of the castle without any cause whatever—but it was all the old thing over again."

Her Grace coloured up with anger at this bitter speech, but held her peace. Then Otto addressed her, and begged leave to ask her Grace what kind of order was held at her court, where a priest was allowed to slap the fingers of a noble young maiden, and a chamberlain to smite her on the face? Had he known that such were the usages at her court of Wolgast, the Lady Sidonia (such he delighted to call her, as though she were of princely race) never should have entered it, and he would now instantly take her back to Stramehl, if her Grace would not consent to give him up the dues on the Jena.

Now her Grace knew nothing about the dues, and therefore said, turning to the Duke—"Dear uncle, what does this arrogant knave mean? I do not comprehend his insolent speech." Hereupon Otto chafed with rage, that her Grace had named him with such contempt, and cried—"Then was your husband a knave, too! for my blood is as noble and nobler than your own, and I am lord of castles and lands. Come, my daughter; let us leave the robbers' den, or mayhap thy father will be struck even as thou wert."

Now her Grace knew not what to do, and she lamented loudly—more particularly because at this moment a message arrived from Prince Ernest, praying her for God's sake to bring Sidonia to him, as he understood that she had been in the castle now a full quarter of an hour. Then old Otto laughed loudly, took his daughter by the hand, and cried again, "Come—let us leave this robber hole. Come, Sidonia!"

This plunged her Grace into despair, and she exclaimed in anguish,
"Will you not have pity on my dying child?" but Otto continued,
"Come, Sidonia! come, Sidonia!" and he drew her by the hand.

Here Duke Barnim rose up and said, "Sir Knight, be not so obstinate. Remember it is a sorrowing mother who entreats you. Is it not true, Sidonia, you will remain here?"

Then the cunning hypocrite lifted her kerchief to her eyes, and replied, "If I did not know the catechism of Doctor Gerschovius, yet I know God's Word, and how the Saviour said, 'I was sick and ye visited Me,' and James also says, 'The prayer of faith shall save the sick.' No, I will not let this poor young lord die, if my visit and my prayer can help him."