I was silent for a while; then I said, “I think I shall be able to teach them something. I want to be with them as much as possible. I’m already looking forward to the time when we can converse in English.”

“It’ll come. You’re going to succeed. I’m sure the Count will be pleased.”

“If he isn’t,” I said, “I shall go back to England.”

Then I thought of it: the shop, working for the parish, gradually clinging to the comfort which Anthony was offering But at the moment I was in revolt against all that, for something told me that I was on the verge of discovery, that life was going to be exciting, though perhaps not happy for happiness and excitement did not always go together.

Not yet, Anthony, I thought; and then I realized that al though I had relegated him to the back of my mind I liked to think of him there.

“Don’t say that, when you`’ve only just come. What do you think of Klocksburg?”

“It’s fascinating. I’ve seen many a schloss during the time I have spent here but I never thought to live in one.”

“The children showed you over it, I hope?”

“Yes, they took me everywhere, I think except one part. It appeared to be locked.”

“Oh, the haunted room. There are haunted rooms in most castles, you know.”

“What is the story about this one?”

She hesitated.

“Oh, the usual, love ending in tragedy. A young woman threw herself from the window to her death.”

Why? “

“It was years ago. The present Duke’s great-grandfather I think brought her here. She thought she was his wife.”

“And she wasn’`t?”

“It was a mock marriage. It was often done-still is. The girl would not give in to him so the marriage was arranged. The so-called priest who performed the ceremony was no priest at all, but one of the courtiers, so of course the marriage was no true marriage and the girl was tricked. Her scruples were calmed and the honeymoon followed. In these cases when the bridegroom grows tired of the liaison he passes on and the lady realizes the truth. It’s been done many a time.”

“I see. And this girl?”

“Her lover was deeply enamoured of her. The story is that he might have married her if he had not been married already -as his position demanded.”

“So he deceived her?”

“Deceiving simple girls was one of their favourite pastimes. It meant more to them than ruling their lands. But he was more involved than was customary with this girl. He brought her to Klocksburg and she lived here thinking herself a countess. At first he came to visit her and then the visits grew less frequent. From the turret room-the one behind the locked door so the story goes she used to look for him.

From the window you can see the road winding right down to the town.

Day after day she sat there watching and waiting. Then one day he came, but with him he brought his Countess, who had insisted on accompanying him. The poor girl wondered who the lady was and when the Count entered Klocksburg the first thing he did was go up to that room to his mistress. The story is that when he told her the truth she wouldn’`t believe it. He insisted she keep quiet about their relationship. She must come down to the Randhausburg and behave as though she was here as the chat elaine of the castle to keep it in order for the time when the Count and his Countess should call. When he went away she locked herself in her room and, opening the casement window wide, jumped out to her death. Well, you can see how these stories start from that. “

“Poor girl,” I said.

“She was foolish,” said Frau Graben, pursing her lips.

“She could have lived all her days in comfort. The Princes always looked after their favoured women. “

“I can well imagine the shock of believing oneself married and finding one was not.”

“They say she haunts the place. Some say they`’ve seen her. If she comes back it must be because she realizes that it was a silly thing she did. She could have gone on living in comfort.”

“I understand her feelings.”

“Well, I keep the door locked. I don’t want any of the maids getting hysterics. I go in with one of them once a week to dust and clean; then I see that it’s locked up. “

I couldn’'t get out of my mind the thought of that girl watching for her lover and learning how he had deceived her. When she had told the story Frau Graben had seemed secretly amused, sly even. I felt for the first time that she might not be the simple warm-hearted woman I had imagined her to be. It seemed absurd to say there was something sinister about her but that was how it seemed.

I quickly dismissed the thought as ridiculous.

I dreamed about that girl. I understood exactly how she felt. My dreams, as dreams so often are, were muddled, and I was the girl; and the man I saw riding up the mountain was Maximilian.

The children were very excited because Pastor Kratz was going to show me the Processional Cross. The road down to the town was about a mile long though there was a path, which could only be undertaken on foot or on horseback, which was much shorter. There was a surefooted little mare in the stables which had been put at my disposal, and the children had their ponies. Frau Graben said that Liesel should not ride all the way down to the town as she was not a practised enough rider, and as the little girl set up wails of protest at the thought of being excluded from the expedition, she promised to take her down in the horse carriage while I went down on my mare with the boys.

It was a beautiful afternoon; the sun was shining through the trees and one caught glimpses of silver streams glinting among the rocks.

Dagobert rode ahead; he liked to see himself as a leader, but Fritz kept by my side as though he were taking care of me. He was ahead of Dagobert in his English and displayed a remarkable ability for remembering the words I taught.

Already he had a small vocabulary, which was very pleasing.

As the trees grew less thick we could see the distant mountains and my eyes as ever went to the royal castle and I thought of Frau Graben as a young woman in her nursery there with the two boys on whom even now she clearly doted.

Below was the town taking on a definite character as we approached . a fairy-tale town with turrets, towers and red tiled roofs against a background of trees.

Although the main part of the town was in the valley, it was to some extent built on the slope and as we passed first through the Oberer Stadtplatz, with its fountain and arcades of shops, I was reminded vividly of Lokenberg, on the Night of the Seventh Moon. We were now in the month of June; very soon it would be the ninth anniversary of that night. I must ask Frau Graben whether the occasion was celebrated here.

We passed through narrow streets which sloped down to the Unterer Stadtplatz and here was the church with its baroque dome and Gothic walls.

Dagobert told me that we should stable the horses in the Prince Carl Inn which was close by the church. Delightedly knowledgeable, he led the way. The innkeeper received us with some deference, for he knew the boys. Dagobert haughtily accepted this and our horses were taken and we went to the church on foot, where Frau Graben and Liesel were already waiting.

Pastor Kratz said how pleased he was that he could show me the cross.

Two soldiers from the Palace were already standing on guard in the crypt where the oak chest was kept.

“I’m afraid it’s a great deal of trouble,” I said.

“No, no,” cried the Pastor.

“We like people to see the cross. Usually there is a small party of sightseers, but you, as a member of the Count’s household, don’t have to wait for that. I should be delighted to show you the church first.”

This he did. It was a fine old church dating back to the twelfth century; the stained glass windows were the pride of the town, the Pastor told me gleefully; and they were magnificent; the blues, reds and golds depicted the story of the Crucifixion and lit by the sun presented a truly magnificent sight.

There were memorial tablets on the walls and I read the inscriptions; these were scions of the old families of the district.

“The ducal family does not appear to be represented here,” I said.

“They have their own chapel in the castle,” said Frau Graben.

They come here, though, for State occasions,” put in the Pastor.

“Coronations, royal christenings and such events.”

“Those would be great occasions for the people,” I added.

“Yes, indeed. Like everyone else we enjoy our ceremonies.”

‘ “The Family” , as we call them,” explained Frau Graben, ‘are not buried here. They have a special burial ground. It’s an island.”

“I want to take Fraulein Trant to the Island of Graves,” announced Dagobert.

I don’t like it much,” said Fritz.

“You’re afraid,” accused Dagobert.

“Now, now,” put in Frau Graben.

“Nobody’s going to take anybody to the Island of Graves who doesn’`t want to go.”

“What a strange name,” I said.

“You children run on,” said Frau Graben.

“Go out and look at the tombstones.”

“It’s not the same as the Island,” said Dagobert.

“It couldn’'t be because it’s not an island.”

The boys had stopped to study an effigy in stone. Dagobert spelt out the inscription. Frau Graben drew me aside and I asked: “What is this Island of Graves?”

“You should visit it. I think you’d find it interesting. But I don’t want Liesel to go. She’s too young. It’s rather a morbid spot. But it’s only the Family’s burial ground. The island is in the middle of a lake and there is a ferryman who lives there and rows people back and forth. He looks after the graves.”