Yet now, when she was in her own country, and as good as any queen thereof, I found the Lady Ysolinde in no wise different from, what she had been in the city of Thorn and in her father’s house.  She called me often to ride beside her, Helene being on my other side, while the Lubber Fiend, who had saved all our lives, gambolled about and came to her to be petted like a lapdog of some monstrous sort.  He licked his lips and twisted his eyes upward at her in ludicrous ecstasy till only the whites were visible whenever the Princess laid her hand on his head.  So that it was as much as the archers of the guard could do to hide their laughter in their beards.  But hide it they did, having a wholesome awe of the emerald eyes of their mistress, or perhaps of the steely light which sometimes came into them.

It was growing twilight upon the third day (for there were no adventures worth dwelling upon after that among the cavern dwellings of Erdberg) when for the first time we saw the towers of Plassenburg crowning a hill, with its clear brown river winding slow beneath.  We were yet a good many miles from it when down the dusty road towards us came a horseman, and fifty yards or so behind him another.

“The Prince—­none rides like our Karl!” said Jorian, familiarly, under his breath, but proudly withal.

“He comes alone!” said I, wonderingly.  For indeed Duke Casimir of the Wolfsberg never went ten lances’ length from his castle without a small army at his tail.

“Even so!” replied Jorian; “it is ever his custom.  The officer who follows behind him has his work cut out—­and basted.  Not for nothing is our Karl called Prince Jehu Miller’s Son, for indeed he rides most furiously.”

Before there was time for more words between us a tall, grim-faced, pleasant-eyed man of fifty rode up at a furious gallop.  The first thing I noticed about him was that his hair was exactly the same color as his horse—­an iron-gray, rusty a little, as if it had been rubbed with iron that has been years in the wet.

He took off his hat courteously to the Princess.

“I bid you welcome, my noble lady,” said he, smiling; “the cages are ready for the new importations.”

The Lady Ysolinde reached a hand for her husband to kiss, which he did with singular gentleness.  But, so far as I could see, she neither looked at him even once nor yet so much as spoke a word to him.  Presently he questioned her directly:  “And who may this fair young damsel be, who has done me the honor to journey to my country?”

“She is Helene, called Helene Gottfried of Thorn, and has come with me to be one of my maids of honor,” answered the Lady Ysolinde, looking straight before her into the gathering mist, which began to collect in white ponds and streaks here and there athwart the valley.

The Prince gave the Little Playmate a kindly ironic look out of his gray eyes, which, as I interpreted it, had for meaning, “Then, if that be so, God help thee, little one—­’tis well thou knowest not what is before thee!”