‘Fraulein Sibley,’ the margravine called.

I hoped it might be an English name.  So it proved to be; and the delight of hearing English spoken, and, what was more, having English ears to speak to, was blissful as the leap to daylight out of a nightmare.

‘I have the honour to be your countrywoman,’ said a lady, English all over to our struggling senses.

We became immediately attached to her as a pair of shipwrecked boats lacking provender of every sort are taken in tow by a well-stored vessel.  She knew my father, knew him intimately.  I related all I had to tell, and we learnt that we had made acquaintance with her pupil, the Princess Ottilia Wilhelmina Frederika Hedwig, only child of the Prince of Eppenwelzen.

’Your father will certainly be here; he is generally the margravine’s right hand, and it’s wonderful the margravine can do without him so long,’ said Miss Sibley, and conversed with the margravine; after which she informed me that she had been graciously directed to assure me my father would be on the field when the cannon sounded.

‘Perhaps you know nothing of Court life?’ she resumed.  ’We have very curious performances in Sarkeld, and we owe it to the margravine that we are frequently enlivened.  You see the tall gentleman who is riding away from her.  I mean the one with the black hussar jacket and thick brown moustache.  That is the prince.  Do you not think him handsome?  He is very kind—­rather capricious; but that is a way with princes.  Indeed, I have no reason to complain.  He has lost his wife, the Princess Frederika, and depends upon his sister the margravine for amusement.  He has had it since she discovered your papa.’

‘Is the gun never going off?’ I groaned.

‘If they would only conduct their ceremonies without their guns!’ exclaimed Miss Sibley.  ’The origin of the present ceremony is this:  the margravine wished to have a statue erected to an ancestor, a renowned soldier—­and I would infinitely prefer talking of England.  But never mind.  Oh, you won’t understand what you gaze at.  Well, the prince did not care to expend the money.  Instead of urging that as the ground of his refusal, he declared there were no sculptors to do justice to Prince Albrecht Wohlgemuth, and one could not rely on their effecting a likeness.  We have him in the dining-hall; he was strikingly handsome.  Afterward he pretended—­I’m speaking now of the existing Prince Ernest—­ that it would be ages before the statue was completed.  One day the margravine induced him to agree to pay the sum stipulated for by the sculptor, on condition of the statue being completed for public inspection within eight days of the hour of their agreement.  The whole Court was witness to it.  They arranged for the statue, horse and man, to be exhibited for a quarter of an hour.  Of course, the margravine did not signify it would be a perfectly finished work.  We are kept at a great distance, that we may not