A man's fur cap rested upon the mass of
tangled light-brown hair which, tied imperfectly with a simple
knot of ribbon, fell down upon her neck. Her short dress of plain
gray stuff hung loosely about a rather trim figure; and a black
scarf, carelessly tied, encircled her neck. In short, he saw a
rather pretty, carelessly dressed, healthy, and just now very
haughty-looking young girl, who seemed more like a boy in speech
and manners,--and one who needed to be disciplined and curbed.
Again the question came: "Who is this man, and what seeks he
here, Klas? I ask."
" 'T is a courier with dispatches for the council, Madam,"
replied the man.
"Give me the dispatches," said the girl; "I will attend to them."
"You, indeed!" The courier laughed grimly. "The dispatches from
the Emperor of Germany are for no hairbrained maid to handle.
These are to be delivered to the Council of Regents alone."
"I will have naught of councils or regents, Sir Courier, save
when it pleases me," said the girl, tapping the floor with an
angry foot. "Give me the dispatches, I say,--I am the King of
Sweden!"
"You--a girl--king?" was all that the astonished courier could
stammer out.
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