They were about five or six years old when the aunt died, after
which they were sent to Hanover to their present abode.
Twice a year a relation of their great-aunt came to see them, but he was
such a stiff, quiet gentleman that they could not enjoy his visits. It
was, however, this man who always decided what was to be done with them.
For the present they were to remain where they were till Salo had
finished his studies. After that the choice where to settle was left to
them.
"But I know what I shall do first of all," Salo added with sparkling
eyes.
Just then the old castle came in view.
"Oh, what a wonderful castle with great towers!" Salo exclaimed. "It is
all closed up; there can't be anybody living there. It doesn't seem to
be in ruins, though. What is it called?"
"This is Castle Wildenstein," the boy's companion curtly answered,
throwing a searching glance at the young Baron. The latter looked
innocently up at the gray towers, remarking that anybody who owned a
castle like that would simply be the happiest man in the world.
"He knows nothing about the castle of his ancestors and the whole tragic
story. So much the better," said Uncle Philip to himself.
When the carriage drove up before Mrs. Maxa's door, everything was very
quiet there, for the children were still in school. Kathy came running
towards them with astonished eyes. She did not know at all what was
going on, and that was a novelty for her.
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