The Strong Arm | Page 8

the girl to be gone, and surely should have been contented now that she had withdrawn herself, yet so shifty a thing is human nature, that no sooner were his commands obeyed than he began to bewail their fulfilment. He accused himself of being a double fool, first, for not holding her when he had her; and secondly, having allowed her to depart, he bemoaned the fact that he had acted rudely to her, and thus had probably made her return impossible. His prison seemed inexpressibly dreary lacking her presence. Once or twice he called out her name, but the echoing empty walls alone replied.
For the first time in his life the heavy sleep of the camp deserted him, and in his dreams he pursued a phantom woman, who continually dissolved in his grasp, now laughingly, now in anger.
The morning found him deeply depressed, and he thought the unaccustomed restraints of a prison were having their effect on the spirits of a man heretofore free. He sat silently on the bench watching the door.
At last, to his great joy, he heard the rattle of bolts being withdrawn. The door opened slowly to the small extent allowed by the chains, but no one entered and the Count sat still, concealed from the view of whoever stood without.
"My Lord Count," came the sweet tones of the girl and the listener with joy, fancied he detected in it a suggestion of apprehension, doubtless caused by the fact that the room seemed deserted. "My Lord Count, I have brought your breakfast; will you not come and receive it?"
Herbert rose slowly and came within range of his jailer's vision. The girl stood in the hall, a repast that would have tempted an epicure arrayed on the wooden trencher she held in her hands.
"Beatrix, come in," he said.
"I fear that in stooping, some portion of this burden may fall. Will you not take the trencher?"
The young man stepped to the opening and, taking the tray from her, placed it on the bench as he had previously done; then repeated his invitation.
"You were displeased with my company before, my Lord, and I am loath again to offend."
"Beatrix, I beg you to enter. I have something to say to you."
"Stout chains bar not words, my Lord. Speak and I shall listen."
"What I have to say, is for your ear alone."
"Then are the conditions perfect for such converse, my Lord. No guard stands within this hall."
The Count sighed deeply, turned and sat again on the bench, burying his face in his hands. The maiden having given excellent reasons why she should not enter, thus satisfying her sense of logic, now set logic at defiance, slipped under the lowest chain and stood within the room, and, so that there might be no accusation that she did things by halves, closed the door leaning her back against it. The knight looked up at her and saw that she too had rested but indifferently. Her lovely eyes half veiled, showed traces of weeping, and there was a wistful expression in her face that touched him tenderly, and made him long for her; nevertheless he kept a rigid government upon himself, and sat there regarding her, she flushing, slightly under his scrutiny, not daring to return his ardent gaze.
"Beatrix," he said slowly, "I have acted towards you like a boor and a ruffian, as indeed I am; but let this plead for me, that I have ever been used to the roughness of the camp, bereft of gentler influences. I ask your forgiveness."
"There is nothing to forgive. You are a noble of the Empire, and I but a lowly serving-maid."
"Nay, that cuts me to the heart, and is my bitterest condemnation. A true man were courteous to high and low alike. Now, indeed, you overwhelm me with shame, maiden of the woodlands."
"Such was not my intention, my Lord. I hold you truly noble in nature as well as in rank, otherwise I stood not here."
"Beatrix, does any woodlander come from the forest to the castle walls and there give signal intended for you alone?"
"Oh, no, my Lord."
"Perhaps you have kindly preference for some one within this stronghold?"
"You forget, my Lord, that the castle is ruled by a lady, and that the preference you indicate would accord ill with her womanly government."
"In truth I know little of woman's rule, but given such, I suppose the case would stand as you say. The Countess then frowns upon lovers' meetings."
"How could it be otherwise?"
"Have you told her of--of yesterday?"
"You mean of your refusal to come to terms with her? Yes, my Lord."
"I mean nothing of the kind, Beatrix."
"No one outside this room has been told aught to your disadvantage, my Lord," said the girl blushing rose-red.
"Then she suspects nothing?"
"Suspects nothing of what, my Lord?"
"That I love