“Certainly, certainly,” the brother answered, “but if that is the plan, I am going along.  I thought at first that this trip would prove a very mournful one.  It seems more like a festal-journey to me now, so I’ve come, too.  Salo and I will sit high up and to-morrow I promise to bring him back here.”

With shining eyes the boy climbed to the seat which the coachman had just relinquished.  He understood now that the hospital was not to be their destination.  With many hearty handshakes and good wishes the two Remke ladies at last let their friend and adviser go.  After many more last greetings to all the party the carriage finally rolled towards the valley.

Leonore was so exhausted that, leaning against her companion, she fell asleep, but she staunchly held on to Mrs. Maxa’s hand, which seemed to her that of a loving mother.  It was the first time in her life that she had felt this.

On the high seat outside the conversation was extremely lively.  Young Salo had to tell where and how he lived, and then his companion explained in turn the places they were passing through and told him whatever unusual had happened in the neighborhood.  The uncle found out that neither Salo nor his sister had the slightest remembrance of their parents.  The boy’s earliest memory went back to an estate in Holstein where they had lived with an elderly great-aunt, his grandmother’s sister.  They were about five or six years old when the aunt died, after which they were sent to Hanover to their present abode.

Twice a year a relation of their great-aunt came to see them, but he was such a stiff, quiet gentleman that they could not enjoy his visits.  It was, however, this man who always decided what was to be done with them.  For the present they were to remain where they were till Salo had finished his studies.  After that the choice where to settle was left to them.

“But I know what I shall do first of all,” Salo added with sparkling eyes.

Just then the old castle came in view.

“Oh, what a wonderful castle with great towers!” Salo exclaimed.  “It is all closed up; there can’t be anybody living there.  It doesn’t seem to be in ruins, though.  What is it called?”

“This is Castle Wildenstein,” the boy’s companion curtly answered, throwing a searching glance at the young Baron.  The latter looked innocently up at the gray towers, remarking that anybody who owned a castle like that would simply be the happiest man in the world.

“He knows nothing about the castle of his ancestors and the whole tragic story.  So much the better,” said Uncle Philip to himself.

When the carriage drove up before Mrs. Maxa’s door, everything was very quiet there, for the children were still in school.  Kathy came running towards them with astonished eyes.  She did not know at all what was going on, and that was a novelty for her.