At the same time a tall woman, wearing the small coronet of a countess, richly dressed in scarlet satin trimmed with gold fringe and ermine, entered, and accepting the hand which the general offered her, seated herself beside him. The countess was perhaps fifty years old. Age had added little to the furrows with which pride and ambition had long since marked her face. She looked at the old governor haughtily, and with an artificial smile. “Well, General, your ward delays. He should have been here before sunset.” “He would have been here, my lady Countess, if he had not gone to Munkholm upon his arrival.” “To Munkholm! I hope it was not to see Schumacker?” “That may be.” “Could Baron Thorwick’s first visit be to Schumacker!” “Why not, Countess? Schumacker is unfortunate and unhappy.” “What, General! Is the viceroy’s son on familiar terms with a prisoner of state?” “When Frederic Guldenlew confided his son to my care, he begged me, noble lady, to bring him up as if he were my own. I thought that an acquaintance with Schumacker might be useful to Ordener, who is destined some day to wield such power; consequently, with the viceroy’s permission, I obtained from my brother, Grummond de Knud, a permit to enter all the prisons, which I gave to Ordener. He often uses it.” “And how long, noble General, has Baron Ordener had the pleasure of this useful acquaintance?” “Rather more than a year, Countess. It seems that Schumacker’s society pleased him, for it kept him at Throndhjem for a long time; and it was only reluctantly, and by my express request, that he left the city last year to visit Norway.” “And does Schumacker know that his comforter is the son of one of his greatest enemies?” “He knows that he is a friend, and that is enough for him, as for us.” “But you, General,” said the countess, with a searching look, “when you tolerated--nay, encouraged--this connection, did you know that Schumacker had a daughter?” “I knew it, noble Countess.” “And this fact seemed to you of no importance to your pupil?” “The pupil of Levin de Knud, the son of Frederic Guldenlew, is an honest man. Ordener knows the barrier which separates him from Schumacker’s daughter; he is incapable of winning the affection, unless his purpose was upright, of any girl, above all the daughter of an unfortunate man.” The noble Countess d’Ahlefeld blushed and paled. She turned away her head to avoid the calm gaze of the old man, as if it were that of an accuser. “But,” she stammered, “this connection strikes me, General,--let me speak my mind,--as strange and imprudent. It is said that the miners and tribes of the North are threatening to revolt, and that the name of Schumacker is mixed up with the affair.” “Noble lady, you surprise me!” exclaimed the governor. “Schumacker has hitherto borne his misfortunes calmly. The report is doubtless ill-founded.”