“I insist on your telling me exactly what has happened. The King has been here—you know he is the King now—and I want to know exactly what he said.”
“I am sorry I cannot tell you, father. His Majesty forbade me to talk about it.”
The forester snapped his fingers.
“That for his Majesty! What right has he to give orders to my daughter? I will teach you that I am the authority here; and I will teach him too, if he tries that game on.”
Dorothea looked at him gravely, and rose from her seat.
“Where are you going? Sit down. You can talk to Johann fast enough when he comes here; but when your own father is speaking to you, you want to run away. I won’t have that fellow coming to my house; do you hear? It is my belief he would like to marry you himself; but you have got a better tune to sing to than that.”
“You are wrong, father; indeed, you are,” broke out the girl, indignantly. “I don’t believe he has ever thought of such a thing. He is not—he does not care for me in that way at all.”
“Never mind whether he does or not. It’s not him I am talking about, but King Maximilian. Now, is he going to marry you, or not? That’s what I want to know.”
Dorothea gave a shiver of discomfort, and turned to the door.
Her father sprang at her and seized her by the wrist.