A CASTLE TO LET N RS. BAILLIE REYNOLDS BNIV. OP CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS A1WHLE9 A Castle To Let By MRS. BAILLIE REYNOLDS AUTHOR OF "The Daughter Pays," "The Lonely Stronghold" "The Kingt Widow," etc. A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York Published by arrangement with GBOKGE H. DORAN COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY GBOHGE H. DORAN COMPAXY HUNTHD m THE UNITED STATES OF AKBBICA CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I HBK OWN MISTRESS 9 II A CHANGE OF PLAN 20 III NEVILLE MAKES A MISTAKE 33 IV THE MEDIEVAL CITY 41 V A CASTLE TO LET 53 VI ESLER MAKES A BANG 62 VII THE OVERLORD OP YNDAIA 72 VIII THE MOUNTAIN TRAGEDY 85 EX TAKING POSSESSION 92 X "CHILDE ROLAND TO THE DARK TOWER CAME" . . 101 XI THE GARDEN CAVB Ill XII THE QUEST OF MRS. COOPER 124 XIII CONRAD'S EXPLOIT 135 XIV TOKENS m THE SAND 147 XV THE BARON'S HINT, AND A DREAM 157 XVI GAURA DRACULUJ 168 XVII THE CROSS ON THE SUMMIT 179 XVIII A PROJECTED ALLIANCE 193 XIX THE PROPHECY OF EPHROSINE 206 XX THE MIDNIGHT ERRAND 216 XXI BETTY'S ACCIDENT 230 XXII THE MYSTERIOUS CRY 240 XXIII Tune BLACK DRAGON 251 XXIV ESLRB Houw Our . 265 2132396 vi CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XXV RED BROCADE 279 XXVI THE MIDNIGHT BAPTISM 291 XXVII THE WILD SWANS . . '_ . . 302 XXVIII THE SECRET INTERVIEW *" . . 310 XXIX GRAVE SUSPICIONS . .". . 320 XXX THE DRAGON SLATER _..... 328 XXXI COMING HOME . 342 A CASTLE TO LET A CASTLE TO LET CHAPTER I HER OWN MISTBESS SOUTH KENSINGTON may perhaps be described as pre- eminently the home of the British domesticities. All that most indicates the rectitude, the stability, the refinement of English family life at its best flourishes here, where we have neither the oppressive wealth of Belgravia nor the mediocrity of the suburbs. Had you opened the street door of Number 3 Truro Gardens, one evening in the late June of the year before the war, you would have been greeted by that mingled odour of clear soup, green peas, hot fruit, and stuffing, which indicates that a dinner-party is in progress. The hall qf the house was spacious, as halls in London go. It was tiled with coloured encaustics, and dadoed with some kind of papier mache which, when painted dark brown/ was supposed to resemble oak panelling. Above this, the wallpaper was of a rather violent shade of what used to be called peacock blue. Engravings after Alma Tadema, Sant, and even Edwin Long loudly gave out the date at which this hall had been furnished. Men-servants and maid-servants were scurrying to and fro, and from the dining-room came a subdued hum of decorous talk and properly moderated laughter. The iced pudding had just been carried out, and the butler was entrusting to a colleague, hired for the occa- 9 10 ACASTLETOLET sion, a dish of tempting prawn savouries with a face imbued with the solemnity befitting such an important festival. He himself excelled as an entertainer, and he was looking forward to the moment, an hour later, when he would take his place at the table in the servants' hall and press some of his young mistress's champagne upon the hired waiter's willing acceptance. Forbes looked for- ward to a series of such dinners as the present one with perhaps a somewhat gayer company, for choice, than the one now assembled in the future, which stretched before Jjim in rosy colours, since his young mistress was cele- brating iieT WJfflllliJ of age to-night. She sat at the head of her table in a dining-room which was an echo of the hall. The sideboard had been bought in the Tottenham Court Road thirty years previously, and was of walnut, with an overmantel and suite to cor- respond. On the long wall opposite the fireplace hung two oil- paintings in heavy gold frames. They represented a middle-aged man, who still clung to the short, straight side-whiskers of the 'eighties, and a youngish woman, in dowdy evening dress, with a gold locket and chain. Their faces were both pleasing rather than otherwise: the man in particular had what one might call an inter- esting face, an expression which suggested possibilities. His mouth was sensitive as well as firm. One felt that both had been people with a strong sense of duty, and not without culture. Their orphan daughter sat beneath their portraits, gravely fronting the relatives who graced her board that night. George France was a man who succeeded comparatively late in life. His success at the bar came to him quite suddenly and unexpectedly. There had not seemed a chance that his long engagement would ever crystallise HER OWN MISTRESS 11 into matrimony, and then, as the result of one cleverly defended case, he had more work than he could cope with. At the time they married, his wife, who had been wait- ing for him eight years, was thirty years old. She was not a strong woman, and some physical defect was found to exist, which made the doctors think it impossible that she should ever be the mother of a living child. ^ Five or six times her hopes of motherhood were dis- appointed, and then she was taken to see a new specialist of great ability. The result was her daughter Camiola, now seated pensive under the distressingly philistine pre- sentment of the mother who had only lived to rejoice in her for seven years. Camiola's life had run in sevens, for when she was fourteen her father succumbed to a sudden attack of pneumonia following influenza. He died a fairly wealthy man, and soon after his death his wife's only sister, rich and childless, died also, and left the bulk of a large fortune to Camiola. Mrs. France's brother, John Thurlow, a solicitor, had been appointed guardian of the orphan, in conjunction with Arnold Bassett, a barrister whose friendship with George France dated from boyhood. To-night Mr. Thurlow sat upon his niece's right hand, and Mr. Bassett upon her left. Next to Mr. Bassett was Mrs. Thurlow, and as there was not a Mrs. Bassett, Mr. Thurlow had for neighbour a young girl of Hungarian extraction, a college friend of Camiola. Next to this young lady sat Neville Thurlow, eldest son of John, and Camiola's cousin. Next to him again was a maiden cousin called Ellen Brocklebank, who always had to be asked to family gatherings. Another married couple, slightly re- lated, Archer by name, and the elder Miss Thurlow com- pleted the assembly, with the exception of the vicar of the parish who had baptised Miss France in infancy, as he 12 ACASTLETOLET was fond of telling her; and Miss Pnrdon, the lady who had taken care of her for some years, and who sat facing her, at the table's foot. The savoury had been dealt with and carried away, and Forbes and his assistants now deftly removed things from the table, and then, standing at either end, raised the long lace-bordered strips of embroidered linen and left the glossy mahogany bare, in all the beauty of its wine-deep polish. This was the only innovation upon which the young mistress had insisted, and she could hear Aunt Thurlow's sniff of contemptuous disapproval. Aunt Thurlow did not love her niece by marriage. She thought it very unjust that Aunt Meadow's money should go in such great measure to a girl who already had quite enough to make her an object for fortune-hunters. How- ever, she curbed her displeasure, because she thought it most probable that Camiola would marry Neville, her son. When once the young lady was her daughter-in- law, and the money safely in the family, she promised herself some plain speaking. The decanters had been circulated, the fruit handed, and now Uncle Thurlow was rising to his feet. He was a stout man, and after eating a large dinner he breathed somewhat noisily. He was at no time a fluent speaker, and the fact of having jotted down one or two things he intended to say seemed to have the effect of almost para- lysing his eloquence. He hummed and hawed over his good wishes until every one present yearned for the mo- ment of his sitting down, and his son Neville sat with the face of an early Christian martyr listening to the mixture of sentiment and business which came in some confusion and after long intervals from the paternal lips. The one thing which emerged most clearly from the welter was the fact that the speaker thought it a pity that George France's will made his daughter completely HER OWN MISTRESS 13 her own mistress at the age of twenty-one. He hoped, however, that the guardianship of himself and "my good friend Bassett here" had been of so lenient and agreeable a description that the young lady would be drawn to con- sult them from time to time before taking any definite or decisive step. In conclusion, he wanted to say what pleasure it gave him to see his dear dead sister's child who he said it without avuncular partiality had grown up a most attractive girl, settled so comfortably in her handsome house, in the midst of a small but most affec- tionate circle of relatives and under the care of a lady whose attachment to her was so real and whose personal character so exemplary, as he could safely affirm Miss Pur- don's to be. He sat down, and everybody applauded, with a feeling that they were atoning for their boredom and their im- patience by these false marks of esteem. Arnold Bassett leaned back in his chair with a fine smile of disdain. Then he turned to the heroine of the evening, who was gazing reflectively into her finger-bowl, and seemed a little absent-minded. "Shall I thank them on your behalf ?" he asked. "Any- thing particular you would like me to say ?" "You are very kind," replied Camiola, "but I will do my own talking, I think." Slowly she rose to her feet, and stood before them a slim girl who appeared taller than she really was, a pale girl with black hair, and curious, inscrutable eyes, which were green when you looked closely at them. Her fea- tures were decidedly good, but her expression was of re- serve, and, as Aunt Thurlow said, "You never knew how to take Camiola." Her white dress was very simple, and her only orna- ment a diamond and pearl pendant which hung from a slender gold chain. 14 ACASTLETOLET There was no hesitation in her clear voice, which car- ried, without effort, to the admiring servants outside the door in the hall. "I thank you all for the kindness with which you have drunk my health," she said. "I have to thank particu- larly my Uncle John and Mr. Bassett for the wholly sat- isfactory way in which they have carried out their duty of guardians a duty full of difficulty and involving much trouble. I was specially glad when Uncle John, three years ago, yielded to my wish, allowed me to shut up this house, and to go to Oxford. I am sure that my education has made me better fitted to face the future and take charge of my own fortune. It is with the greatest pleasure that I welcome you all here this evening, though the pleasure is mingled with some regret at the thought that I shall never have the pleasure of seeing you here again. The first act of my new reign is to be the sale of this house and a great deal of the furniture in it, and my departure from England for a time. I am going to have a Wander Jahr. I think such an experience will be useful to me, because when I come back I intend to buy a place in the country and try and do some good among my fellow-creatures. I expect to start in about six weeks' time, taking with me Miss Purdon, if she will come; and I should not be surprised if we go round the world. In thanking you for drinking my health, I wish to propose that of my two guardians, Uncle John and Mr. Bassett, and to couple this toast with the name of the celebrated K.C., Mr. Arnold Bassett." She sat down. For a moment her guardians were so amazed that there was a portentous silence. Then the vicar, with a start, rose to his feet, and led the hearty honouring of the toast of the two guardians. The eminent K.C., when he rose to reply, seemed to have had the wind taken out of his sails. lie owned that HER OWN MISTRESS 15 the announcement of his late ward's intentions had been a blow. He felt a personal regret at the thought that this hospitable board, at which in the lifetime of his dear friend George France he had so often sat, would know him no more. Xo. 3 Truro Gardens had stood for him, for many years, for the home of a friend. It was to be given up. Well as we all know we are growing old, and "the younger generation is knocking at the door." He should have thought, in his ignorance the mere man, a back number, as he knew himself to be he would have thought that a young lady who had just inherited such a sumptuous fortune would have been more inclined to try a London season than to go round the world. However, nobody could question Miss France's right to do exactly as she chose, and he would ask them all to join in drink- ing most heartily with him another toast "Success to the Wander J&lir!" Mrs. Thurlow sat staring upon him with keen little eyes which had a rather vindictive expression. Slowly she turned to the vicar, who was her neighbour, and asked, "What is a Vanderyar ? I never heard of one." The vicar explained. ''German is such a horrid lan- guage," remarked the lady; "I never would learn it. I suppose Camiola has caught it from that foreign girl sitting opposite to us. I am told that she is not German really, but Hungarian, and that her native language is even more barbarous than German; but the Austrians speak German, don't they ? She was sent to Oxford, you know such an odd idea. What does a foreigner want with Oxford ? The Universities seem full of odd people nowadays; I am glad we never sent our girls there! It has filled my niece's head with the most ridiculous ideas. You would think with two cousins so near her own age as Phyllis and Betty she would not need to make a friend 16 A CASTLE TO LET of a Hungarian. However, shaTcker narsong goo. I do speak French a little, but German " "A difficult language. I have sometimes wished I were more expert, since the German theologians are of such importance," replied the vicar mildly. "German theologians!" Mrs. Thurlow withered him with all the scorn of ignorance. "I should think our English theologians were enough for your parishioners." "Rather too much, I sometimes think," he replied, in full security that the lady would not understand him. "How long has Camiola been hatching this idea of selling her house and going abroad ?" asked Neville Thur- low of the girl next him Fraulein Maldovan, the young Hungarian. "Oh, not so very long," replied she, "though we have often talked about it. You see, until our schools were over, we had not much time to think about other things. Was she not wonderful to do it all in three years ?" "Oh, well," said Neville with an air of condescension, "in my day we thought three years quite enough for a pass, you know." "You read for honours?" inquired she, with a pretty air of deference. He assented, with a smile of gentle superiority, and did not add that his class was a third one only. "Why didn't Camiola read for honours?" he asked. "She wanted to, but Miss Purdon dissuaded her. She thought there was no particular object in it, I think." "Sensible woman," replied Neville approvingly. "I suppose that is one thing we are all agreed upon Miss Purdon is the right woman in the right place. Camiola can't go very far wrong in her care." "Oh, certainly," replied Irmgard Maldovan. She was very unlike her friend, for she was a blonde, a thing most unusual among Hungarians. Her eyes were HER OWN MISTRESS 17 a soft brown, contrasting strangely with her fair hair. Her features were not regular, but she had the Honved vividness and charm. The fashionable style of hairdress- ing suited her, and she wore a fillet of turquoise and silver which would have delighted the soul of an artist. She was feeling sorry for Neville Thurlow, and he would have had something like a shock had he realised how far she saw into the depths of his being. He had been entertaining her charmingly all dinner-time, and had been full of plans for the summer vacation. She had not dared to discount Camiola's forthcoming announcement by telling him that his plans were foredoomed. His mother was as completely upset as he was. She arose and followed the young hostess when she gave the signal in a mood which boded ill for somebody. In the hall her daughter Phyllis managed to give her a hint. "Mother, whatever happens, don't be fool enough to offend Camiola," she whispered. "Remember, she is per- fectly independent, and if you upset her you will be cut- ting off your nose to spite your face." "What could have put this into her head?" muttered the irate lady. "Xeville'a chance is over completely over! She is certain to be snapped up before she ever sees England again." "Of course. But you can't help it. We are her nearest kin, and she may be shipwrecked or killed or take enteric or something before she comes home. Remember, she is not married yet, and we are her natural heirs at present." The young Thurlows were a good deal older than their cousin, though Mrs. Thurlow had spoken of her girls as "companions of Camiola's own age." Neville was thirty- one, and his sister only two years younger. Camiola's memories of her cousins when she was a child were not happy. They had ordered her about and been intolerant 18 A CASTLE TO LET of her youth and inexperience. Her father had left in- structions for her to receive an education of a kind which Mr. Thurlow thought unfitting for a girl ; and respecting this Phyllis and Betty had been contemptuous. The daughter's timely warning did, however, prevent Mrs. Thurlow from making herself openly objectionable. She bore as best she could with Cousin Ellen Brockle- bank's raptures of admiration of dearest Camiola. Poor Cousin Ellen! She was of those who are filled with a great desire to help all the world, and a total in- capacity to do the simplest thing sensibly. No doubt her parents were more to blame than she herself. Early training might have corrected the hopeless untidiness, the lamentable want of method, the injudicious impulses which brought to naught all her eager benevolence. She was a perfectly sincere creature, her "gush" was natural and not assumed. Camiola often wished she could take her in hand and give her a course of lessons in neat- ness. She wore to-night a gown of some sickly tint of pale mauve. Why do people with string-coloured hair and complexion invariably desire to wear pale mauve? The garment looked as though she had last worn it about four seasons previously, and had, in taking it off, screwed it together and bundled it into the corner of a room never swept, where it had remained until she picked it up to wear this evening. Her boiled-gooseberry eyes were, how- ever, alight with a joy and pride in her charming and fortunate young kinswoman which was beautiful, if you consider that she herself was poor and plain, and spent her days in attendance upon a mother who suffered from nerves. "Such a charming plan to travel !" she cried. "Every- thing nowadays made so easy for you! How I wish I were coming with you !" Camiola felt a sudden pang of compunction. This poor HER OWN MISTRESS 19 Cousin Ellen, who hardly ever got an "evening off" such as she was having to-night ! She said something regretful, trying not to be insin- cere. Cousin Ellen laughed quite cheerily. "I can say I wish I were coming without being thought to be giving hints," she replied, beaming, "because, you see, even if you invited me, begged me, implored me to come, it would be out of the question that I should leave mamma." Camiola felt a rush of compassion. "Ellen, you are a brick," she cried impulsively. "I wish I could give you a holiday! Do you think Cousin Sophie would go to the Riviera for the winter if I gave you the money to pay for it?" Ellen started and coloured. "Oh, Camiola, please," she murmured, "I do assure you that I was not hinting you make me feel so awkward." But Camiola gripped the skinny arm and hurried Cousin Ellen into the back drawing-room. "My money is my own, and I can do as I like," she urged defiantly. "If I like to think that you are having a good time while I am away if it will make me happier to think I am giving somebody else a bit of pleasure why, you couldn't be so nasty as to deprive me of my satisfaction !" CHAPTER II A CHANGE OF PLAN IEMOAED MALDOVAN had gone to the piano and was softly romancing in the background. While Cousin Ellen and Camiola argued, Mrs. Thurlow sat down beside Miss Purdon on the settee and asked somewhat frigidly : "And what do you think, my dear Miss Purdon, of this plan of my niece's ?" Miss Purdon looked up from the knitting that hardly ever left her beautiful hands. She was a majestic woman, with abundant hair, quite grey, and a delicate complex- ion which contradicted her autumn looks. Her eyes were Irish grey and shadowy and she was, altogether, both handsome and charming. "A most distinguished woman" was what everybody said of her. She smiled at Mrs. Thurlow with a sympathetic glance while she replied: "I think it's most natural, don't you ?" "Natural ? No, since you ask me, I don't. Of course, she would go away for the present. She might even stay at the sea or in Scotland until October or November. But to sell this house, where her father brought her mother as a bride " Miss Purdon glanced round the drawing-room, which had been furnished during the ebonised-and-gold craze. "I am afraid I don't think there is much to inspire senti- mental attachment in the houses in Truro Gardens," she replied. Mrs. Thurlow was impressed. Herself very much of the middle classes, she had an enormous respect for the 20 ACHANGEOFPLAN 21 opinions of Miss Purdon, who was cousin of an impov- erished Irish peer. "Well," she admitted reluctantly, "of course my niece is really a great heiress." "I was surprised to know how wealthy she is," an- swered Miss Purdon. "Her guardians have nursed her property well," said Mrs. Thurlow with pardonable triumph. "I only trust she won't destroy the labours of years in a few months," "Carniola has some sense and some ambition," replied Miss Purdon, knitting swiftly. "She is perhaps quixo- tic, but she is no fool." "And she has you to advise her," gushed Mrs. Thurlow. "Oh, do try and prevent her marrying a fortune-hunter !" "That" with a little smile "is the penalty to be suf- fered by heiresses." "It would break Neville's heart," said Neville's mother in a low voice. "Has he told her so ?" asked the other lady. Mrs. Thurlow heaved a sigh. "Not yet. He thought he ought to wait to speak until she was her own mistress." "I am afraid, then, that he had better hold his tongue until this foreign tour is over," advised Miss Purdon. "Camiola is thinking of nothing less than of marriage just at present." "But she is sure to be snapped up by the time she re- turns," gasped Mrs. Thurlow, speaking out in her despair. Miss Purdon laid down the knitting completely, and spoke as one who makes a confidence. "I believe that Camiola, though she will leave England at once, means to stay in Europe till the end of Septem- ber. I think of suggesting to Mr. Bassett that he should join our party some time during the long vacation. How if Mr. Neville came too ?" Mrs. Thurlow's eye lit up. "That is an idea," she 22 ACASTLETOLET slowly said. "I do feel that those wo ought to marry." "You have no prejudice against the marriage of first cousins ?" "Circumstances alter cases," primly observed the lady. "The family health is excellent on both sides." There was no reply. The flashing needles were again busy. "I suppose" with carefully lowered voice "you have no knowledge of the state of Camiola's affections ? You don't think she cares for Neville ?" "My own opinion is that she is wholly fancy free ; but I never try to probe her confidence. Irmgard could proba- bly tell you more of her feelings than I can." "Yes, that girl ! A foreigner ! And she is to be taken round the world, when Phyllis and Betty are both dying to go! Why should Camiola take a Hungarian girl, of all nationalities, about with her ?" "Why should not Camiola take whom she likes ?" The question was rather coldly put. Mrs. Thurlow stared. She admired Miss Purdon, and Miss Purdon was always very civil to her; but it did now occur to her to reflect that Miss Purdon could have no interests to serve in serv- ing those of Mrs. Thurlow. "Your daughters are neither of them Camiola's con- temporaries," went on the cool, clear voice. "She is much attached to Fraulein Maldovan, who has been her close friend at Oxford during two years." "Who is the girl ?" asked Mrs. Thurlow fretfully. "She is the daughter of General Maldovan, who com- mands a division of the Austrian army in a very out-of- the-way spot Transylvania." "Transylvania? What has the Austrian army to do there ? It is in the United States, is it not ?" Miss Purdon repressed her smile. "It is on the east of Hungary, and Inngard's father commands the forces A CHANGE OF PLAN 23 of a large district, the Ildenthal, which seems to be in the mountains, leagues from civilisation." "H'm! A General, and governs a province! I suppose my niece thinks she would like to enter the aristocracy," remarked Mrs. Thurlow spitefully. "She certainly has the means to marry well if she choose to look high," was the tranquil rejoinder. "She is attractive, too, though a little shy at present; and, as I told you, I think she is ambitious." So saying, Miss Purdon rose and crossed the room to talk to Mrs. Archer. She was thoroughly conversant with the duties of her position. Mrs. Thurlow sat where she \vas, sunk in reverie, wondering what she could do, how to establish over Miss Purdon some hold which might in- duce her to work the oracle. Later, when the gentlemen came upstairs, she thought she understood. Arnold Bassett was the first to come, and he gravitated to the chaperon's side. Miss Purdon, while abating no jot of her dignified self- possession, was nevertheless exceedingly cordial ; and Mrs. Thurlow was not long in concluding that the lady, fore- seeing the marriage of her charge in a year or two's time, was manoeuvring for a home of her own. As she said to her husband that night when going to bed, nobody but herself could have divined the little secret. She had always thought of Bassett as a husband for Phyllis, but as he had dined constantly at their house for the last eight years and nothing had come of it, she had reached the conclusion that it would be best to surrender that idea, and do what she could to bring Arnold and Miss Purdon together, if only Miss Purdon, in return, would promote Neville's interest. "If Neville is such a blamed ass that he can't do his own courting, he won't get far even with Miss Purdon to push him," remarked Mr. Thurlow. "Nev's got no emo- 24 ACASTLETOLET tiona. He's nothing but a stomach and an intelligence. The first man who has the sentiments will chip in and leave him badly beaten." This, his wife told him, was just like a man. They little knew how much is done by indirect influence by the constant pressure of a strong will acting upon a young and ardent nature. "Is Camiola ardent ? I should have thought her as cold as Nev," was the answer. "At his age I should have pre- ferred something more juicy. But, of course, her for- tune is worth giving up a good bit for." At Number 3 Camiola saw the door close upon the last of her guests Mr. Arnold Bassett without a regret. She was her own mistress at last. She had, so she hoped, kissed both Uncle John and Uncle Arnold, as she called him, though he was nothing of the kind, for the last time. "To-morrow," she cried joyfully, as she caught Irmgard in her arms and hugged her, "we will go and put this house in the auctioneer's hands, and the day after we will fly to Cook's and take tickets to go round the world !" The first part of this intoxicating programme was duly carried out next day. They went to the auctioneer's and gave full directions for the warehousing of some bits of furniture which were treasures, and the sale of all the rest. The men were to come in and pack next Monday, and the old and trusted servants, such as Forbes, were to be sent into the country on board wages until such time as their young mistress should have a use for them once more. The following morning, however, brought a check to the eager progress of Camiola. There was a letter for Irm- gard upon the breakfast table, and it brought bad news. Her mother was ill, so seriously ill that her daughter's presence was absolutely necessary, and, should the crisis ACHANGEOFPLAN 25 pass and her life be prolonged, her father feared that Irmgard would have to be at home at least for some months to come, since her mother must of necessity be an invalid for a considerable period. This was a blow. Permission for Irmgard to accompany her friend round the world had been received from Ildestadt only with difficulty. Now all was overthrown. The well-laid plans were useless. To go voyaging without her friend would be no pleasure to Camiola. She felt inclined to cancel all orders and sit at home in Truro Gardens sulking. Both the girls shed tears as they sat together in a some- what dark morning-room, whose window was so over- shadowed by projecting walls of mud-coloured brick that it had to be made of cathedral glass to exclude the hideous prospect. It was hardly to be wondered at that the mis- tress of the house wanted to go elsewhere. Miserably Camiola turned over the leaves of a conti- nental time-table. "I never saw such a place as Ildestadt," she muttered ; "the man who compiled this book has apparently not yet discovered it." "Only about two trains a day," sighed Irmgard, busily sewing buttons on her gloves. "It will be poked away in a corner Ildenthal branch of the Hungarian States Rail- way." She looked very woebegone. Her mother's illness was a real grief, for she feared her father considerably more than she loved him. Her first thought was for the sick woman, for her heart was simple and full of family affec- tion; but mingled with it was a big dose of sorrow for herself, suddenly deprived of what was to have been the kind of treat you only read of in the "Arabian Nights." She might have known, she supposed, that it was too good to come true. Was it likely that she, Irmgard Mai- 26 ACASTLETOLET dovan, would ever go round the world? When her old uncle, the Admiral, had given her father the money to send her to England to complete her education, that had seemed too good to be true. Then the unbelievable beauty of Oxford, the delight of making friends with so excep- tional a girl as Camiola, the prospect of such pleasure as was to be hers in the projected travels it all seemed part of an incredible dream, from which she was now awak- ened. She found herself faced by the prospect of returning to Szass Lona, her father's present home, to a solitude, an isolation not to be conceived of by an English mind. In Transylvania the aristocracy alone is Magyar, and lives surrounded by a middle-class population of the so- called "Saxons" and a Roumanian peasantry. Railways in Transylvania are few and inefficient. Camiola found it a hard task to track down Ildestadt in her time-table. "Here it is," she said at last. "As you said two trains a day; and it takes about eight hours to get there from Hermannstadt, which is the extreme end of civilisation. Let me see yes, this must be it. But why does it say Yndaia in brackets ? Are there two stations at Ildestadt C "Oh, no. But the proper name the Roumanian name is Yndaia. Ildestadt is only the Austrian name." "I have it!" said Camiola suddenly. "We will only take the train as far as Hermannstadt, and thence we v;iil go on to Ildestadt or Yndaia, which is far more roman- tic in the motor." Irmgard raised her blond head, with two eyes as large as tea-cups." "We?" she repeated faintly. "You are not coming to Ildestadt?" Camiola stretched herself languidly as she lounged upon a dark blue velvet settee. The "Indicateur" slid from ACHANGEOFPLAN 27 her knees to the ground, and the Persian kitten darted at it. "Why not?" asked Camiola, peering under her lids at Miss Purdon, who sat at work near the window heark- ening attentively but without comment. "Why not?" asked Irmgard vaguely. "Oh, well, be- cause there is simply nothing to come for. I cannot de- scribe to you how desolate the Ildenthal is. Nobody goes there. It is all so primitive, so savage! Unless you went there you could not realise." "But I should like to realise. Why follow the beaten track when there is such a place to be seen by the enter- prising ? Give me Murray Baedeker fails here." The girl curled herself round in her chair, and began to read with ever-increasing relish: "The most beautiful and romantic spot in this wild country, with the exception perhaps of the magnificent gorge known as the Thorda Spalt, is no doubt the valley known as the Ildenthal. The picturesque walled city of Ildestadt or Yndaia, to give it its proper name is prob- ably unmatched in Europe. From the city the mountains rise at an incredibly steep gradient, and perched upon the very lap of the heights is the Castle of Yndaia, known now as the Orenfels. As far up as the castle a mule path has been hewn in the living rock, and will remind the traveller strongly of the old mule path up the Grimsel Pass in Switzerland. "It is to be regretted that an attempt recently made to throw open this interesting and most romantic spot to tourists has lamentably failed. "Some years ago mineral springs were discovered, of great medicinal value. A hotel was built, baths were in course of construction, and the thrifty Saxon population of Ildestadt looked forward to a new era; but a terrible accident put an end to their hopes. A party from the hotel, accompanied by two guides, experienced mountain- 28 A CASTLE TO LET eers, natives of the Ildenthal, disappeared upon the moun- tain-side in the August of the year 19 , and no trace of them was ever found. The newly-built hotel had to close its doors the following season, and no attempt has been made as yet to reopen it." "Why, this ia too good to be true! I did not know there was such a place in Europe!" cried Camiola joy- fully. "A walled city ! A castle on the rocks ! ! Preci- pices ! Caverns ! Above all, a mystery ! Why have you never told me anything of all these thrilling stories ?" Inngard laughed scornfully. "The caverns and the waterfalls are right up in the hills, miles from where we live," said she discontentedly. "Szass Lona is below Ilde- stadt, and the river which flows down to us the Ilden- fluss overflows all its banks in winter, and the floods are perfectly sickening. The castle is rather splendid. I went up once to see it. It dates from the twelfth century, I believe." "Twelfth century castle!" murmured Camiola, en- tranced. "And here have we Mizpah and I been ex- isting all this time without even knowing of its existence, still less that you lived next door ! I suppose it is a ruin ? Oh, no; from what Murray has to say, it is nothing of the kind. Just attend to this, if you please! 'The cas- tle is a specimen of architecture absolutely unique in Transylvania. A twelfth century fortress, it was the property of almost the only noble Roumanian family still existing in the country the family of Vajda-Maros. This house ruled the Vale of Yndaia from time immemorial; and in the early sixteenth century they were so rich and powerful that the then Count visited England, and ac- quired a great admiration for English architecture. The story goes that he persuaded an English architect to go back with him to Transylvania, and design an addition to the castle much in the style of Haddon Hall. This beau- ACHANGEOFPLAN 29 tiful structure is still intact, and still in possession of the Vajda-Maros. The tragic fact that the heir to the prop- erty perished in the catastrophe, whatever it was, which befell the tourist party upon the mountains, gives a ro- mantic interest to the beautiful and ancient edifice.' ' There was a little silence. Camiola, seemingly ab- sorbed in the guide-book, was glancing out of the tail of her eye at Miss Purdon or "Mizpah," as the two girls usually called her, the name being a contraction, or rather a corruption of "Miss Pur." After a pause, the oracle spoke. "Are you thinking that it would be a nice beginning of our travel, to escort Irmgard home, and make a little tour in an almost unknown part of Europe?" she asked calmly. Camiola looked up hopefully. "You don't think I'm a lunatic, Mizpah, dear?" Alizpah laid down her work, and gave the question her full consideration. "Well, my child," said she, "I sympathise with you very strongly. This morning's bad news has thrown out your plans, but I think you feel a hope that they are only postponed. Your impulse is to wait a little not to start off round the world until you have made certain either that Irmgard can, or that she cannot, accompany you. To stay in London is out of the question, and I think a month in Transylvania would be very pleasant. I sup- pose we could get there without too much discomfort; and I am not yet too stricken in years to enjoy an adven- ture," "Mizpah, you're a brick," cried Camiola impulsively. "I own that I feel quite absurdly attracted by this creepy story. Tell us more about it, Irmgard. Do you remem- ber its happening?" "We were not there at the time* Papa was appointed 30 ACASTLETOLET to the command the following spring. We had heard a great deal about the new hotel, and people comforted mamma, and said that Ildestadt was to become a second Sinaia." "A second what ?" "Sinaia. You know Ildestadt is not far from the Rou- manian frontier, and there is a Roumanian watering- place called Sinaia where the king has a palace, and the court ladies go about dressed like Roumanian peasants. Mamma was feeling rather depressed at being sent to such an outlandish part of the world, but people said it was to be quite fashionable, so we were much disappointed when we arrived, to find that the Kur-haus was closed and the whole place deserted." "Do you know anything of this Roumanian family who own the castle?" asked Camiola. "The Vajda-Maros?" "Yes, a little. They are very poor and very disagree- able. They can't afford to live at Orenfels, so they have a tiny house, like a prison, in Ildestadt. They are very stiff, and think themselves too grand for the Magyar aris- tocracy. Papa says that they were like kings in the olden times. Even the Saxons respect them." "Oh, dear, do tell me what you mean by the Saxons ?" cried her friend, bewildered. "There are Roumanians and Magyars, and now you talk about Saxons! Saxons in Transylvania?" Inngard laughed. "It is queer, isn't it?" said she. "You know what the Roumanians say about them ? They say that they are the descendants of the children that the Pied Piper of Hamelin stole. They came up through the Almescher Hole into Transylvania! But in reality they are colonists who were invited by the Emperor to come in the thirteenth century. They never intermarry with the Roumanians, and they keep their Protestant religion, all among the orthodox population. They are clean and in- ACHANGEOFPLAN 31 dustrious and steady and ugly and unpleasant. The Rou- manians are beautiful and charming, but somehow they never rise. They are an unthrifty lot, papa says." "Well, it is a queer country!" "You may well say so. But the fact that most of the townspeople are Saxons is a good thing for you in a way, because they speak German, and you could never under- stand Roumanian." "Xo, indeed! Well, Mizpah, every word increases my desire to go. Picture to yourself a mediaeval fortress to which no tourist has ever penetrated ! Xo paper bags nor chocolate paper strewn upon the grass no names cut upon the hoary stones, no Bier-Halle awaiting you at the 'Sclionste Aussichts-Punkt !' ' "I feel drawn to it almost as strongly as you yourself." "It's settled," announced Camiola, with an air of de- cision. "We are going. Ah, but I forgot! Murray says ihe hotel is closed !" "Oh, that was the new Kur-haus, up in the woods. There is the Blaue Vogel, in the market square. I should think that would be all right." Camiola once more appealed to the unerring guide-book. " 'Blaue Vogel, old-world, but comfortable,' " she read. "