Christine gave Arwed an imploring look, but neither moved nor spoke.
The old man knit his eye-brows. His eyes flashed, and he angrily lifted up his hands. 'Shall I curse my disobedient child?' he thundered in her ears.
'Father!' groaned Christine, sinking to his feet.
'No further, my uncle!' cried Arwed, with generous anger. 'I should not deserve the name of a man if I could permit a noble maiden to be forced into my arms by a father's curse. The first severe word addressed to your daughter on my account, banishes me forever from Gyllensten. You have my word of honor for it!'
'Can you withstand such generosity, my daughter?' asked the governor, bending over Christine with mingled anger, love and anxiety.
'God is my witness,' cried the maiden, 'how willingly my heart would reconcile itself with your desire. Grant me a short respite for reflection. In the morning you shall know my determination.'
'Grant her the respite,' earnestly begged Arwed. 'Overhastening is a species of compulsion.'
The governor raised his daughter and looked sharply into her eyes. 'Does no artifice lie hidden in this request?' asked he with emphasis. 'Will you really explain yourself in the morning, openly and honestly, without equivocation, as becomes a noble Swedish maiden and my daughter?'
'By the holy evangelists!' cried Christine, almost out of her senses, 'in the morning you shall learn my determination, and with God be the result.'
'Respite the poor maiden for to-night,' entreated Arwed. 'The struggles of her soul have agitated her too violently, and your words were too sharp and heavy. Should your daughter's health give way under her sufferings, you would repent it too late.'