Max understood Yolanda's words to imply that her station in life was even lower than it seemed, or that there was some taint upon herself or her family. Wishing to assure her that such a fact could not influence him, he said:--
"You need not fear to tell me all concerning yourself or your family. There can be no stain upon you, and even though your station be less than--"
"Hush, Max, hush," she cried, placing her hand protestingly against his breast. "You do not know what you are saying. There is no stain on me or my family."
Max wondered, but was silent; he had not earned the right to be inquisitive.
The guard appeared at that moment on the castle battlements, and Max and Yolanda sought the shelter of a grove of trees a dozen paces from the bridge on the town side of the moat. They seated themselves on a bench, well within the shadow of the trees, and after a moment's silence Max said:--
"I shall not come to the bridge again, Fräulein. I'll wait till your uncle returns, when I shall see you at his house. Then I'll say farewell and go back to the hard rocks of my native land--and to a life harder than the rocks."
"You are right in your resolve not to come again to the bridge," said Yolanda, "for so long as you come, I, too, shall come--when I can. That will surely bring us trouble sooner or later. But when Uncle Castleman returns, you must come to his house, and I shall see you there. As to your leaving Peronne, we will talk of that later. It is not to be thought of now."
She spoke with the confidence of one who felt that she might command him to stay or order him to go. She would settle that little point for herself.
"I will go, Fräulein," said Max, "soon after your uncle's return."
"Perhaps it will be best, but we will determine that when we must--when the time comes that we can put it off no longer. Now, I wish you to grant me three promises, Sir Max. First, ask me no questions concerning myself. Of course, you will ask them of no one else; I need not demand that promise of you."