“Yes,” Foy answered bluntly, “you used to be a thin little girl with red arms, and now you are the most lovely maiden I ever saw.”
At this speech everybody laughed, including the Pastor, while Elsa, reddening still more, replied, “Cousin, I remember that you used to be rude, but now you have learned to flatter, which is worse. Nay, I beg of you, spare me,” for Foy showed signs of wishing to argue the point. Then turning from him she slipped off her cloak and sat down on the chair which Dirk had placed for her at the table, reflecting in her heart that she wished it had been Foy who rescued her from the wood thieves, and not the more polished Adrian.
Afterwards as the meal went on she told the tale of their adventure. Scarcely was it done when Adrian entered the room. The first thing he noticed was that Elsa and Foy were seated side by side, engaged in animated talk, and the second, that there was no cover for him at the table.
“Have I your permission to sit down, mother?” he asked in a loud voice, for no one had seen him come in.
“Certainly, son, why not?” answered Lysbeth, kindly. Adrian’s voice warned her that his temper was ruffled.
“Because there is no place for me, mother, that is all, though doubtless it is more worthily filled by the Rev. Pastor Arentz. Still, after a man has been fighting for his life with armed thieves, well—a bit of food and a place to eat it in would have been welcome.”
“Fighting for your life, son!” said Lysbeth astonished. “Why, from what Elsa has just been telling us, I gathered that the rascals ran away at the first blow which you struck with your staff.”
“Indeed, mother; well, doubtless if the lady says that, it was so. I took no great note; at the least they ran and she was saved, with the others; a small service not worth mentioning, still useful in its way.”
“Oh! take my chair, Adrian,” said Foy rising, “and don’t make such a stir about a couple of cowardly footpads and an old hag. You don’t want us to think you a hero because you didn’t turn tail and leave Elsa and her companions in their hands, do you?”
“What you think, or do not think, is a matter of indifference to me,” replied Adrian, seating himself with an injured air.