"I hope he did not get angry often. Getting angry is foolish. It never helps."

"Don't you ever get angry, Fraulein Anne?"

"Oh yes—now and then. Fortunately I am not Thor, so you have no need to fear the sparks."

She laughed. She was constantly laughing in my company. I noticed how the servants would look at us when they heard her, and there was no doubt that I was getting a reputation for knowing how to handle the Countess.

I did understand that she had lived in a rarefied atmosphere and that her position had set her apart; she had known few other children and she had never had a playmate. All she had was her royalty, which manifested itself in her power over others. She had exerted it because it was all she had.

I was beginning to feel rather sorry for my arrogant little Countess. I encouraged her to talk. She had little to tell of her daily life; she lived in a world of her own, populated by gods and heroes. She talked constantly of Freya, which was natural enough as she had been called after that goddess.

"She was golden-haired and blue-eyed," she told me on one occasion, looking complacently at her reflection in the glass as she spoke, "and she was considered to be the personification of Earth because she was so beautiful. She married Odur, who was a symbol of the summer sun, and she had two daughters who were as beautiful as herself ... well, not quite, but almost. She loved them dearly, but she loved her husband more. He was a wanderer, though, and could not be content at home. I wonder whether Sigmund will be a wanderer. I think he will be. He is hardly ever here. He is travelling now. Perhaps he doesn't want to be where I am."

I said, "You must not think that Me is going to be for you just as it was for this goddess. We live in modern times."

She looked at me intently and said with a flash of wisdom: "But people don't change much, do they ... whenever they lived they are much the same. They marry ... and are unfaithful and they go wandering."

"It will be your task to see that Sigmund does not go wandering."

"Now you are talking like Kratzkin. Oh, please don't be like her. Be like yourself. I couldn't bear it if you became like someone else."

"I hope I shall always be myself, and I should imagine that this Freya who was so beautiful should have let her husband go wandering and not have bothered about him."

"She was so unhappy. She wept and when her tears fell into the sea they turned into amber."

"I hardly think that is the scientific explanation of that substance."

She laughed again and I was glad to see her merriment because I sensed beneath these conversations her preoccupation with her coming marriage to this Sigmund, and I realized she was apprehensive. I hoped in time she would confide her feelings to me.

"She went in search of him and she wept so much that where she wept gold was found later."

"Many people must be grateful to the lachrymose lady," I said.

"Well, it all seems hard to believe now, but I'm glad they called me Freya. Though Freya did not marry Sigmund. He married Borghild ... but she was wicked and he put her from him. Then he took a new wife in her place. She was Hjordis. You see, she wasn't Freya either."

"You have lived too much with these old legends," I told her. "They are not always meant to be taken so seriously. In any case your Sigmund was one of the heroes, wasn't he? I know you regard yourself as a goddess, but I should remember if I were you that Sigmund is a man. And you are a woman. And if you want to live together happily you must not forget this."

"You make it all sound so easy, Fraulein Anne. Is it always so easy for you?"

"No," I said firmly, "it is not."

"I want to tell you something."

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you came here."

It was remarkable progress, and that after two weeks!

She told me about life in Kollenitz. "It was much less formal than here," she said. "Of course my father, the Margrave, governs only a little place ... but it is important. That is the point. It is where Kollenitz is situated—not our power or our wealth or anything like that. Bruxenstein needs to be friends with Kollenitz so that Kollenitz can be what they call a buffer state. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Well, how would you like to be a buffer?"

She looked at me questioningly and I replied on impulse, "I think it would depend on Sigmund."

That made her laugh yet again. "Sigmund is tall and handsome. I think the hero Sigmund must have been rather like him. But perhaps he is more like Sigurd. I always liked him better really. He was my favourite among all the heroes."

"You must get away from all those myths. Tell me about Kollenitz."

"I was the only child. It's a great blow when they don't have sons. They seem to blame it on you."

"I'm sure they don't."

"I am sure they do and please don't talk like Kratzkin."

"All right. Shall we say then that they feel a little resentful towards a female child?"

"That's better," she said.

"But as it was no fault of yours, you should not allow it to upset you."

"It didn't, much. But... perhaps it did a little. It made it difficult for them—nurses, governesses, I wanted them to know that even if I was a girl I was also important—the heiress. Well, then I was betrothed to Sigmund and that was after Rudolph was murdered."

"What do you know about that?" I asked eagerly.

"About Rudolph? He was with his mistress in the hunting lodge and someone came in and killed them with one of the guns from the gun room there. I didn't hear about it until after, though if he had lived I should have married Rudolph."

"You would?"

"Yes, because of Kollenitz being the buffer. They want Kollenitz allied with Bruxenstein."

"What happened then?"

"It was a long time ago and I was very young at the time. I used to hear them whispering together, but they always shut up when they saw me. Then I heard I was going to be betrothed to Sigmund. I couldn't understand it at first because they had always told me before that Rudolph was going to be my husband."

"When did you learn that he had died?"

"When I was betrothed to Sigmund. They had to tell me then that it was not going to be Rudolph and why. I didn't go through any ceremony with Rudolph. It was all in treaties, but there was a betrothal ceremony in the schloss-kirche here and Sigmund and I made our vows. It wasn't a marriage ... it was just a betrothal; but it does mean that we are promised to each other. We couldn't marry anyone else now without a dispensation and that would never be given because my father and the Grand Duke would never allow it."

"I see what an important person you are."

"A buffer," she answered.

I laid my hands on her shoulders. "Countess," I said, "I see that you are going to be very happy."

"Where do you see it?"

"In your stars."

"Can you tell?"

"I can tell you that this will be so."

"I wonder why Sigmund stays away so long. Do you think it is because he doesn't like me?"

"Certainly not. It is because he is arranging treaties and such like with foreign powers."

She laughed. Then she was serious. "Perhaps it is," she said. "You see, it was only when Rudolph died that he became important. Before that, he was only the son of the Grand Duke's younger brother."

"It must have made a lot of difference to his life."

"Of course. He'll be the Grand Duke when this one dies. Oh, I do hope he's not going wandering like Freya's hus­band."

"He won't, and you won't go crying after him, even if it does add to the world's supply of amber and gold."

"Oh, Fraulein Anne, I do like you. It's because you are funny, I think. I am going to call you just Anne, not Fraulein any more, because that makes you seem like any old governess."

"I can see we are making rapid strides. Your manners are improving with your English accent. You ask my permission. Dear Countess, I should like you to call me ... just Anne."

"And will you call me Freya?"

"When we are alone," I said. "But before others it might be wise to stand on a little ceremony."

She kissed me then and I was deeply moved. We were indeed becoming friends.

I had been with Freya for nearly a month when she said she wished to go to the mausoleum because this was the anniversary of her great-grandmother's death and she was buried there. I wanted to know how this came about and she told me that her great-grandmother had made a second marriage into Bruxenstein and had lived the last years of her life there, though the children of her first marriage had remained in Kollenitz.

I was very eager to see anything connected with the family and I greatly looked forward to the visit.

It was necessary to get the key to the mausoleum from the comptroller of the household and he greeted me with smiles. Like everyone else he knew of the success I was having with the young Countess, and he regarded himself as responsible for this happy appointment. He had even been congratulated by the Grand Duke himself, he told me, for the Grand Duke had had an account from Frau Strelitz and others.

I told him that I was enjoying the work and that the Countess was making excellent progress.

"It is said that she is so interested in her English studies that she is inclined to neglect others," he said complacently.

"Fraulein Kratz and I try to keep an even balance."

The comptroller beamed and gave me the key to the mausoleum, asking that when the visit was over I should return it to him.

This I promised to do and Freya and I set out on foot, for the church was adjoining the schloss. It was beautifully situated, high up with magnificent views of the town below. Some of the graves had been made quite recently and fresh flowers and wreaths lay on them.

The mausoleum was imposing and quite grand. Freya whispered to me that it had been there for many years and had been designed by one of the greatest architects.

She opened the door and descended a few steps. The floor was of marble, as was the chapel; and there were side galleries in which the sarcophagi had been placed.

"How quiet it is!" I said.

"Quiet as the grave," agreed Freya. "Anne, are you just a little bit frightened?"

"What is there to be afraid of?"

"Ghosts?" suggested Freya.

"The dead cannot harm the living."

"Some people think so. What if they have been murdered? They say that if people have died violently they can't rest."

"Who says?"

"They."

"I never believe them. They are always so vague and it is as though they are afraid to say their names."

"This is the coffin of my great-grandmother. I always wonder about her when I come here. She came from Kollenitz to Bruxenstein ... just as I did. But she was older than I and had been married before ... so she knew something about it. I say a little prayer and hope that she is happy in heaven. I saw a picture of her once. They say she was like me."

"They again. They seem to be everywhere."

She laughed out loud and then put her fingers to her lips. "Perhaps we shouldn't laugh in here."

"Why not?"

"They might not like it."

"Here they come again."

She was serious. "I mean the ghosts this time," she whispered.

"Well," I said loudly, "we have nothing to fear from them or they from us."

"Come and look at this," she said, and she led me to the coffin which lay on one of the ledges. "Can you read it?"

I leaned forward. "Rudolph Wilhelm Otto Baron von Gruton Fuchs. Aged twenty-three years ..."

"Yes," she interrupted. "It's the one who was. murdered. I wonder if he rests in peace?"

I stared in shocked silence, stunned, although I should have realized that he would be buried here. My mind had gone back over the years to the day when I had first seen him coming to the Grange and taking Francine away.

Then suddenly I realized that I was alone. I turned sharply and heard the key turning in the lock. I was startled and then deeply shocked. Freya had locked me in.

I stared at the door. Then I went to it and said sternly, "Open this immediately."

There was no response. I banged with my fists but that made little impression.

I did not know what to do. This was not serious. I should soon be missed and they would know where I was because the comptroller had given me the key to the mausoleum, and if Freya returned without me they would come immediately and release me. But my first feelings were disappointment that Freya could have done this. I knew she was trying to break through my calm and frighten me, to show that I possessed the same weaknesses that she did; but to be locked in a mausoleum with no company but the dead was a terrifying experience and of this she would be very much aware, and yet in spite of our friendship she had subjected me to it.