The old residence inside the ramparts, in spite of its fine outlook, was more sombre than magnificent. Frequent changes of Stadtholders, who only lived there a little while at a time, had given to the double-storied granite building, with its side wings for prisoners, a terribly deserted appearance. It certainly more resembled a jail than a great governor's residence. The dreariness was increased by its present inhabitants, stern Fru Marta, with her aged maid-servants, some invalid soldiers, and gruff jailors. Had Gustaf Adolf recollected the condition of the place, he would probably not have sent his young prisoner to such a depressing abode.
Fru Marta expected her guest, who had been described to her as a dangerous and depraved young person, of superhuman cunning. She had, therefore, prepared a little dark chamber within her own for Lady Regina and her attendant, and made up her mind to keep the closest watch on the wild young lady. Fru Marta was a good, honest soul, but sharp and severe like a lady of the old school, who had brought up all her children with the rod. It never entered her mind that a lonely, defenceless, and forsaken young girl, isolated in a strange land, needed a comforting, sympathetic hand and motherly kindness; Fru Marta felt that discipline ought to tame a spoilt child, and then milder treatment could be introduced.
When Lady Regina, accustomed to the freedom of the sea, entered this gloomy dwelling, an involuntary shudder passed through her slight frame. This feeling remained when she was received on the threshold by the old lady, in a close linen cap and a long dark woollen cloak.
No doubt Lady Regina's inclination of the head was somewhat stiff, and her whole bearing somewhat reserved, when she greeted Fru Marta on the castle steps. But Fru Marta was not intimidated by it. She took the young girl by both hands, shook them vigorously, and nodded a greeting, about half-way between a welcome and a menace. Then she surveyed her guest from head to foot, and the result of the examination was muttered aloud:
"Figure like a princess ... no harm; eyes black as a gipsy's ... no evil; skin as white as milk ... no mischief; proud ... ah, ah, that is bad; we shall be two about that, my young friend."
Regina impatiently made a motion to proceed, but Fru Marta did not let go her hold.
"Wait a bit, my dear," said the stern dame, as she endeavoured to recollect her ancient stock of German words; "it takes time to go a long way. One who crosses my threshold must not be taller than the door-post. Better to bend in youth than creep in old age. There ... that's the way for a young girl to greet one who is older and wiser..."
And before Lady Regina knew it, the strong old lady had put her right hand on her neck, her left against her waist, and with a sudden pressure, forced her proud guest to bow as deeply as one could desire.
Lady Regina's pale cheeks were covered with a flush as red as the sunset sky before a storm. More erect and prouder than before rose the girl's slender figure, and her dark eyes flashed fire. She said nothing, but old Dorthe was determined to give Fru Marta a lesson in politeness on her mistress' behalf. She advanced with lively southern gesticulations, and screamed, beside herself with anger:
"Miserable Finnish witch, how dare you treat a high-born lady in such a manner? Do you know, vile jailor, whom you have the honour of receiving in your house? You do not! Then I will tell you. This is the exalted Lady Regina von Emmeritz, née Princess of Emmeritz, Hohenloe, and Saalfield, Countess of Wertheim and Bischoffshöhe, heiress of Dettelsbach and Kissingen, &c. Her father was the Prince of Emmeritz, who owned more castles than you, miserable wretch, have huts in your town. Her mother was Princess Würtemberg, related to the Electoral House of Bavaria, and her still living uncle, the Right Reverend Bishop of Würzburg, is lord of Marienburg, and the town of Würzburg, with all the lands belonging to it. You take advantage of us because your heretic king has taken our land and town, and made us prisoners; but the day will come when St. George and the Holy Virgin will descend and destroy you, you heathen; and if you harm a hair of our heads, this castle shall be levelled to the ground, and you, miserable witch, and your whole town, annihilated ..."