As soon as Drost Peter and his two companions had entered the dark passage, the servant who had held the door open disappeared. It was suddenly dark behind them, and the door closed with a hollow clang, which made the knights start. "This is a convenient arrangement," said Sir Lavé, in an indifferent tone. "I must be prepared for all kinds of guests, you know. Gentlemen like you, who come on important state affairs, I invariably converse with as privately as possible, to avoid interruption." The long passage led to the eastern wing of the castle, which projected into the Sound. It was terminated by a narrow, vaulted, spiral staircase. "I must beg you to go one at a time here," said Sir Lavé: "the stair is somewhat small, and you may be incommoded in getting a few steps upwards. I often find this way troublesome; but one cannot be cautious enough in these times, and a private message from the king must be heard in private." As he spoke, he ascended hastily, without looking behind him. Drost Peter, who followed him closely, paused once or twice, and put a few indifferent questions to him on the construction of the castle, at the same time pointing behind him; but Sir Lavé continued to ascend, and answered his inquiries without stopping or turning. "Singular!" whispered Sir Rimaardson to Thorstenson. "Were he not the brave John Little's kinsman, we should barely trust him. Saw you his perplexity, and his look towards the duke?" "If he betray us, it shall cost him his life," whispered Thorstenson, laying his hand on the hilt of his sword: "he shall not go three strides from us." Drost Peter, observing that his companions whispered suspiciously behind him, turned round, and laid his finger on his lips. "The wind is still easterly," he remarked, in a careless tone: "nobody can well think of crossing the Sound to-night." "It is scarcely possible," replied Sir Lavé: "you must determine on taking your abode with me to-night, gentlemen." "That is not our intention," said Drost Peter: "beside, you have guests, who probably have greater claims upon your hospitality, and from whose society we necessarily detain you too long. Shall we soon reach your private apartment, sir knight?" "In a moment," he replied, as he redoubled his pace. Drost Peter had mentally counted the number of steps, and had reckoned the sixtieth, when they halted on a landing. An iron-studded door was opened, and they entered a narrow turret-chamber, where there was only a single window, which stood open, but was provided with strong iron bars. The wax-lights flickered in the current of air, and the servant lighted a large lantern suspended from the roof. "Your closet almost resembles a prison," observed Drost Peter.