"Sit down here, and help me shell these chestnuts."
The lad sat down near Thetralde and entered with her into a contest of swiftness in the shelling of chestnuts, during which, like herself, he more than once pricked his fingers in the effort to extract the ripe kernels from their burrs. Presently, looking into her face, he said archly:
"And here you have the daughter of the Emperor of the Franks; seated inside of a peat hut and shelling chestnuts like any woodchopper and slave's daughter."
"Vortigern," answered Thetralde, returning the look of her companion with a radiant face, "never was the daughter of the Emperor of the Franks more happy than at this moment."
"And I, Thetralde, I swear to you that since the day I left my mother, my sister and Brittany, I have never been more pleased than to-day, than now, near you."
"And if to-morrow should resemble to-day? and if it should be thus for a long time, a very long time—wouldst thou always be pleased?"
"And you, Thetralde?"
"Say 'thou' to me. We address one another with 'thou' in Germany. Say to me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"
"But the respect—"
"I say 'thou' to you, and do not respect you the less for it," rejoined the maid laughing. "Say to me: 'And thou, Thetralde?'"