With tears in her eyes she packed her boxes and took leave of the Sisters and her companions. She had begged in vain for another year--even six months, but her father was obdurate. He had made arrangements with a friend of his, a sea-captain, to fetch her in Paris and take her to Norway in his vessel. All was decided and Ragna must go.

She felt a strange shrinking from the journey and in later days came to regard as a premonition what was probably only reluctance to face the busy outside world after so many months of seclusion. Certain it is that with heavy heart and red eyes she left the Convent, and Captain Petersen was much concerned by the dolorous appearance of his charge.

"You look more like a virgin martyr being led to the stake than a pretty young lady just let out of her cage into the world!" he told her. "Bless my soul, if I wouldn't want to shake a loose leg after being mewed up so long!"

He was a stout, red-faced man with merry blue eyes, and a red fringe of beard round his face like a misplaced halo. There was nothing saintly about him, however, though he was a thoroughly good and honest man.

"Cheer up!" he adjured Ragna, "the sea-breezes will soon blow the cobwebs out of your brain and the colour into your cheeks--besides," he added with a jovial wink, "I've a surprise up my sleeve for you--a surprise most young ladies would give their eyes for!"

"What is it?" she asked for politeness' sake.

"It will keep! It will keep!" he answered delightedly.

He enlivened the long railway journey to the best of his ability, with a constant stream of jokes and stories at which he chuckled heartily in default of a more appreciative audience. He plied the girl with sweets and fruit, little flasks of wine and biscuits. He was so unfailing in his good-humoured and kindly attentions that she could not help but respond and presently was laughing with him as merrily as possible. He insisted on calling her "Froken" pretending to stand in great awe of her long skirts, chignon and "young-ladyfied" manners. He teased her by constant references to his "surprise," but refused to tell her of what it consisted, so that her curiosity was thoroughly aroused and her eagerness to penetrate the mystery was only equalled by his pleasure at the success of his diplomacy.

So they journeyed to Hamburg, and Ragna forgot to regret her convent-life in the whirl of new sights and sensations. Captain Petersen found time, in spite of his other occupations, to take her boating up the Alster and to the theatre. She slept in her cabin, on the small steamer, and amused herself when the Captain was busy, by wandering through the city, visiting the market-place, the churches, or on the harbour and river in the small steamboats plying ceaselessly to and fro.

The _Norje_ was to sail four days after their arrival in Hamburg. Much preparation was being made on board, unusual, even to Ragna's unaccustomed eyes--the state-rooms were being freshened and made ready, and the steward was laying in stores of chickens, fruit and other delicacies. Evidently some distinguished pa.s.sengers were expected.

At last the day came, the sailing was fixed for noon, and Captain Petersen, watch in hand, stood on deck, by the gangway, looking expectantly up the wharf. Ragna, sitting aft under the awning, a book in her hand, could not keep her eyes from straying in the same direction, though she did her best to disguise her curiosity, for Captain Petersen, true to his word, had remained adamant to her enquiries and coaxings, and she wished him now to believe that she did not care so very much for his old "surprise" after all. Hence the book and the carefully detached att.i.tude.

Down on the wharf there was a slight commotion; two carriages had stopped, and servants and porters were hastening to and fro. Ragna saw a young man step from the first carriage, followed by another man, slightly older. Both had the military bearing and both were handsome, but the first had the air of one accustomed to precedence, and his somewhat petulant orders and gestures found instant response and acquiescence on the part of his companion. They were too far away for Ragna to catch their speech, though the sound of their voices reached her, and she wondered what language they might be using; Norwegian was out of the question; Swedish and Danish equally so; German it could not be for their appearance was anything but German--but neither did they look like Englishmen nor Frenchmen nor Russians, nor in fact anyone she had ever seen.

Meanwhile Captain Petersen had hastened down the gang-plank and cap in hand was bowing clumsily to the younger man and escorting him deferentially to the ship. As they pa.s.sed up the gang-plank to the deck, the young man raised his head and his eyes met Ragna's, as leaning over the rail quite forgetful of herself, in her interested surmising, she gazed down at him. Her hat, tipped back and only held by the dark blue ribbon tied under her chin, left her hair uncovered, and the ma.s.s of gleaming braids and curls caught and reflected the sunlight; her blue eyes shaded by dark lashes looked down from out the shadow of her hair, clear, wondering and free from self-consciousness; her mouth, rather large but well-shaped and red as that of a child, too red for the Scandinavian fairness of her skin, was smiling, the lips just parted.

So their eyes met, his, large, dark, burning, different from any she had ever seen, held hers a moment, then he raised his hat and pa.s.sed on, as Ragna withdrew, a flush she could not understand rising in her cheeks.

One moment only, but while his eyes held hers she had felt a curious sensation, a sort of magnetic thrill drawing her to him, and as long as he looked at her she could not have withdrawn her eyes, nor lowered her lids.

It had lasted but a second, but that second, though she did not know it, was the turning point of her life.

Captain Petersen, preceding the young man had seen nothing, he was still murmuring disconnected phrases of greeting--"Most highly honoured! Such condescension! Entirely at Your Highness's disposal." As they reached the deck, the Captain stood aside to give pa.s.sage to "His Highness"

disclosing to view the deck, with Ragna who had retreated to a chair at some distance, and as His Highness stepped to the deck, his eyes followed the Captain's to the girl; then he raised them in inquiry to Petersen's face. The latter with a sweeping gesture and a voice unconsciously raised to quarter-deck tones answered the unspoken question.

"A fellow-pa.s.senger, Your Highness, the daughter of an old friend who I am bringing back from school. She speaks French like a Russian--Will Your Highness permit?" His Highness graciously permitted and they walked over to Ragna who rose to her feet annoyed by the blushes which came in spite of her, under the young stranger's scrutiny. Captain Petersen chuckling at her embarra.s.sment addressed her in his genial roar:

"Ragna, His Royal Highness, Prince Mirko of Montegria has permitted me to present you, and I make you responsible for his entertainment during the trip. Didn't I tell you I had a surprise for you that would take your breath away? You can begin at once; I'm no carpet-knight, and managing this ship is about enough for me. Her name is Andersen, Your Highness, Froken Ragna Andersen--and with your kind permission--"

someone hailed him and he bustled away.

The servants were coming on board, directing the stewards with the luggage and the Prince's companion had already gone below to arrange the details of the installation.

Ragna had made her curtsey and stood in silent embarra.s.sment until Prince Mirko broke the ice by saying smilingly:

"A kind Fate evidently presides over my destiny--but Captain Petersen was wrong in preparing you for a surprise; he should have warned me of the pleasure in store for me."

Then seeing how unsophisticated the girl was, and that his complimentary phrase only added to her confusion, he put her quite at her ease by making an ordinary remark or two about the weather, followed by a few questions as to her life in the Convent and the journey to Hamburg. They were still talking, standing by the rail, when the young man who had accompanied Prince Mirko in the carriage, approached and stopped within a few paces of them.

"Oh," said the Prince, "Mademoiselle, let me present my friend and aide-de-camp, Count Angelescu. What is it, Otto?"

"Captain Petersen wishes to know if Your Highness will have luncheon served in your state-room, or if you will eat in the saloon. There are no other pa.s.sengers beside your party and this young lady."

"The saloon, by all means, Otto, and tell the Captain I hope he will join us, as well as Mademoiselle, if she will do us the honour!"--He looked at Ragna who bowed.

Count Angelescu also bowed and withdrew--he had bowed to Ragna, bringing his heels together with a click, when his Prince presented him, but had seemed to give her no further attention. In reality he had observed her closely and her frank expression and fresh youthfulness pleased him.

Ragna's impression of him was equally favourable; she liked his bronzed soldierly face, with the grave eyes and the firm mouth under the dark moustache. He must be thirty or over, she thought, the Prince could not be more than twenty-four or five.

The sailors had lowered the gang-plank and were casting off the hawsers which held the steamer to the wharf. A wheezy donkey-engine was lowering boxes and bales through the forward hatch; on the river side a small puffing tug was slowly warping the _Norje_ into midstream. Ragna and the Prince could hear Captain Petersen on the bridge, now calling orders through the tube to the engine room, now bawling through his speaking-trumpet. His round face looked like an overgrown peony and Ragna said so, to her companion's amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Is that the botany they teach you in Paris?" he asked.

"Oh," she answered, laughing gayly, "Paris is a place where one learns many things!"

"Even in a Convent?"

"Even in a Convent."

He shot a stealthy glance at her from under dropped lids--the girl was thoroughly innocent, there could be no doubt as to that. A smile twitched his moustache--the things Paris had taught him were not subjects usually included in the curriculum of a girls' school, and the piquancy of the contrast between his experience of _la Villa Lumiere_ and that of Ragna amused him. He stood idly watching her--her face interested him, not from its prettiness alone--she was at the same time more and less than pretty. It was no doll's face, the cheek-bones were too high and prominent for the canons of perfect beauty, the mouth too large and the forehead too high, but there was an indescribable charm he did not seek to a.n.a.lyse--enough that it should be perceptible. He felt instinctively that though childlike in her mind Ragna was no fool, and that it would amuse him to draw her out. So he led her on to express her opinions on various subjects grave and gay, such as came up in their desultory conversation.

The announcement of luncheon, by means of a cracked gong, was no interruption for the Captain excused himself on the ground that his presence was required on the bridge, and Count Angelescu barely joined in the conversation from time to time in response to a direct appeal from the Prince or from Ragna.

The girl had lost all trace of shyness and was enjoying herself heartily in the highest of spirits, and Prince Mirko seemed more like a school-boy on a holiday than the heir to a kingdom on a diplomatic mission. He explained to Ragna that he was on his way to Stockholm, and from there to St. Petersburg.

"But," he said, "that is all so appallingly serious that I am cutting capers while I may--I often cut them when I should not, don't I, Otto?

And old 'Long face' there, tries to keep me in order; old 'Long face'

does not approve of me now!" he laughed.

Count Angelescu did not reply, nor did he even smile at the sally; he was not at all pleased by the rate at which the _camaraderie_ between the Prince and Ragna was progressing. He knew his Prince for a "coureur de cotillons" and scented danger from afar. "Fortunately we land the day after to-morrow," he thought. Two days is a short time, but much can happen in them.

Ragna had listened, astonished by the bantering challenge.

"Why," she exclaimed, "Your Highness, can you be kept in order?"

The nave question so pleased the Prince that he roared with laughter, as did also Count Angelescu who answered her.

"No, Mademoiselle, he can't, and that's the worst of it! I do my best; it's no use; I advise you to beware of him, he's dangerous."

"Now, Otto, none of that! I won't have you making me out an ogre. I a.s.sure you," he said, turning to Ragna, "that I am warranted neither to bite nor scratch. Do I really look terrible?"

"No, indeed," she laughed, looking him in the eyes, "I am not afraid of you!"

"Ah, Mademoiselle," said Angelescu, "it is when one thinks one's self safest that one is generally in the greatest danger. I was never so sure of myself as the day I fell hopelessly in love; I had the folly to think myself woman-proof, you see, and I fell!"

"So you are married, then," said Ragna.

"No, for after all she would have none of me!"

They all joined in a laugh at this, and Ragna said: "Your sermon loses its point, oh Preacher!"

So the luncheon-hour pa.s.sed amid jest and laughter and they strolled out to the deck where comfortable chairs awaited them under the canvas awning. The _Norje_ was pa.s.sing the islands of the Elbe--the Vierlander, and Prince Mirko made much fun of the quaint dress of the peasant women with their awkward hats, stiff ribbons and clumsy petticoats.