"Well, sir, what then?" asked Osra, playing with her whip and smothering a smile.
"Then, madame," said Christian, "I looked up and I saw you, and I cried, 'A fig for the Princess Osra! For here is a lady more beautiful than all they tell of Princess Osra; I will throw myself at her feet and pray her in pity to help me.'"
Still Osra hid her smile, and so busy was she with this task that she did not perceive that Christian also hid a smile; but she thought that he did not know her, whereas he had seen her several times, and had this day tracked her in the forest, knowing that she was accustomed to ride there.
"But where," she asked, "would the lady who went with you get the dress you speak of?"
"At my mother's cottage, madame, where my mother would wait on her."
"And when could she be back at this spot?"
"By five in the afternoon, madame. I would myself escort her."
"And why, sir, should she rescue you from the straits into which your folly has led you?"
"Alas, madame, for no reason, unless, by a divine miracle, she should prove as kind as she is beautiful."
"You have a rash tongue, sir, in other matters than the making of wagers." And she looked at him. For she was very sorely tempted to do what he prayed of her; and she said: