Shortly after, Martina was again washing at the brook, when Adam once more stood before her: "Are you quite recovered from your fright?" said he.
"No; my limbs still tremble from the terrible fear I felt, but as long as I live I will thank you for having——"
"Pray don't talk about it. The animal was not vicious—no animal is naturally so, neither horse nor ox, if not persecuted when young by being foolishly hunted and cruelly goaded, and thus made bad-tempered—then, at last, they are so with a vengeance—but—tell me—don't you know all, and—don't you like me as much as I like you?"
He could not say much, but there was infinite tenderness in his eyes, and subdued but deep love, as he looked at Martina and laid his hand on her shoulder; and no man would have believed that the rough stalwart Adam could have been so loving and gentle.
They were standing silently under the spreading beech, and Martina gazing up at the bright rays of sunshine darting through the leaves—
"Look how beautiful this tree is!" said she.
"A very useless one," said Adam; "a vast number of branches, but a poor trunk."
"I was not thinking of that, but see how it shines and glitters all green and gold."
"You are right; it is beautiful," said Adam, and his glance was unusually mild as the rays of the sun sportively flickered on his stern embrowned features.
For the first time it seemed to occur to him, that a tree could be looked at in any other light than that of its marketable value.