Nothing interested them all more than the inscriptions--tender and pathetic--which they found on several of the historic old windows. Karl could only read a few, which happened to be in English, such as "Alexandra, September, 1868," and another, "Willie," which the King of Greece had written. But, when it came to a French inscription: "_Que Dieu veille sur la Famille Royale et la protège._ Alexandra, 1867," Karl had to call upon Valdemar to translate it for him, as well, of course, as all the Danish ones. "'May God watch over the royal family and protect it,' is the translation of the French one, Karl, by Queen Alexandra; and Olga, Queen of Greece, has written in Danish here on this window: '_Danmark, Danmark, elskede Hjem_,' which means: 'Denmark, Denmark, beloved home,' and here is a touching one by the late Czar: '_Farvel kjaere gamle Fredensborg_,' 'Farewell, dear old Fredensborg.'" "And, mother," said Karen, "here is: 'Farewell, my beloved Fredensborg. Alexandra, September, 1868;' and 'Christian-Louise, 1864,' and 'Valdemar-Marie, 1885.'" They drove away through the royal grounds, which reached down to the shores of beautiful Esrom Lake, glimmering like a sapphire in the setting sun's soft light, and were soon back once more at Helsingör. "Aunt Else," said Karl, "Fredensborg Castle looked exactly like the pictures of castles in the books of fairy tales." "If that is what you like, Karl, then some day you must surely see Frederiksborg Palace, in the lovely forest region north of Copenhagen. It stands on an island in a lake, and is all spires, turrets and battlements, and certainly looks like a real fairy-tale castle," said Fru Ingemann. "Some of its venerable beeches are five hundred years old. But here is the little inn where we must have something nice and warm to eat before we take our steamer, in just a few minutes, for we will be sailing all night. We have barely time, if we hurry." After finishing their little dinner of hot cinnamon-flavored soup, broiled fish, rye bread, preserves and _röd-gröd_, all of which tasted so good after their drive back through the woods, they boarded the little steamer which was to take them on their all-night trip over the Kattegat to Aarhus, on the east coast of the peninsula of Jutland, or the Continent, as the Danes call it. "Aunt Else, on one of those windows at Fredensborg, was the inscription: 'Valdemar-Marie, 1885.' Won't you tell me all about the Valdemars? They were Denmark's greatest kings, weren't they?" urged Karl. "Yes, but Valdemar will be glad to tell you all about them and about all the other kings of Denmark, too, Karl; but wait--here comes Fróken Johanne Nielsen, with her little nephews, Tykke and Hans, to talk to us. Fróken Nielsen is a great traveller. Children, don't you remember meeting them one summer up on the Strandvej?"