“It is a pity, Francis, a great pity,” replied Rudolf. “For your sake, I would that I had been the victim of this accident rather than Blount. You would have had one burden less to bear. Don’t take it so to heart, my child. I have seen others fall from their horses never to rise again alive. What can we do? Wait till our turn comes, and not make life miserable by thinking too much about it. But,” said he, “you have not yet told me where I am to sleep. Must I go back to the ruin? It is a cold place, and doubly so when I think of the parental castle close by.”
“The truth is, I cannot offer you a room, Rudolf. There is not one suitable for the purpose.”
“But why cannot Rudolf share mine?” I asked; “I will give up my bed to him.”
“No,” he replied quickly; “I will be content with the sofa, if Francis will consent to my staying here.”
“Very well,” she answered; “only you must promise that to-morrow, before daybreak, you will be far away. It is your father’s birthday, and there will be many visitors at the Castle.”
“I will start early, I promise you, Francis.”
“Well, I will once more trust to your word of honour. And now good-bye. It is time for me to go; otherwise my absence will be remarked upon by the gentlemen of the house.”
“Take this purse, Francis; it is a little commencement of restitution; I would I could offer you more, but I have not yet become a veritable Yankee uncle. I have not discovered a gold mine. Accept at least what I can return to you.”
And he spread out the American greenbacks before her.