Furious as Mr. Clinch inwardly became under these epithets, he felt that his explanation would hardly relieve the maiden from deceit, or himself from weakness. But out of his very perplexity and turmoil a bright idea was born. He turned to the baron,—
“Then you have no faith in the Rhine legends?”
The baron only replied with a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders.
“But what if I told you a new one?”
“You?”
“Yes; a part of my experience?”
The baron was curious. It was early in the afternoon, just after dinner. He might be worse bored.
“I've only one condition,” added Mr. Clinch: “the young lady—I mean, of course, my cousin—must hear it too.”
“Oh, ay! I see. Of course—the old trick! Well, call the jade. But mark ye, Sir Nephew, no enchanted maidens and knights. Keep to thyself. Be as thou art, vagabond Jann Kolnische, knight of the road.—What ho there, scoundrels! Call the Lady Wilhemina.”
It was the first time Mr. Clinch had heard his fair friend's name; but it was not, evidently, the first time she had seen him, as the very decided wink the gentle maiden dropped him testified. Nevertheless, with hands lightly clasped together, and downcast eyes, she stood before them.