“What wouldst thou with me?”
late. One of them had already seized her by the wrist, firmly, yet not cruelly.
“Nay, nay, my little fallow deer,” he said, in tones that were meant to be soothing, “nay, my beautiful ring-dove, you must not be alarmed. There! do not flutter so, pretty bird. We would but speak with you for one short minute. We have seen you dance and heard you sing many evenings when the pretty flower did not observe us. We are charmed with the flower’s performance, and have come to offer her an engagement. The Wandering Minstrels is not a good enough show for your talent. No, you must try to get away for one little minute. We offer you a big, big salary. We will take you to France, and place you before a large and admiring audience in a splendid concert-room. You will have dresses more beautiful than you can now even dream of, besides gold and jewels, and you will become a rich lady, before whom the gayest knights in fair France will bow. It is a splendid offer for one so young as you.”
“Do not fear us,” said the other man, advancing a step nearer to the frightened and shrinking girl. “We do not wish your answer now. Only promise, and we shall meet you again, and only of your own free will must you come with us.”
He extended his arms beseechingly. But at this moment, with a sudden and painful effort, she wrenched herself free, and fled towards the forest, shrieking for help.
And help was at hand, and came in the very nick of time to save this child, the joy of whose May-day morning had been so suddenly changed to grief and terror.
CHAPTER II.
The Minstrels at Home.
THOUGH it wanted a good hour of the time at which Ralph, the splendid blood-hound, was in the habit of awaking, stretching himself, and yawning aloud by way of hinting to his little mistress that it was six o’clock, and that all good girls who live in the woods and wilds should be opening their eyes, the honest dog did not go to sleep again. He kept watching the door and wondering.