“That is not because I am covetous, sir, but because I have my ideas. It is a presumption for a priest to hold a city. Let him keep to the burning of heretics, and draw a revenue from the Holy Synod, not hold a demesne in fee to the prejudice of his betters.”
“Well, madam,” said the Count of Nullepart, beginning to shake in his saddle, “more advanced views I never heard put forward by a lady of eighteen. If the ladies of future ages are to be of such stern clay as yours, I foresee that there will be neither religions, dynasties, nor empires upon the face of the globe. I foresee the day to be at hand when everything of my unfortunate sex will be put to the sword, and trunk hose will cease to be the pledge of a valiant simplicity.”
The Count of Nullepart, who for all his melancholy and sad look, was much addicted to laughter, kept chuckling in a stealthy manner at these speeches of our fair companion. And she, dear soul, was far from observing him, being engrossed too deeply in her own designs; besides, such an air as she wore would have rendered it impossible for her to believe that any person could have been excited to mirth by her conversation.
You will suppose that I felt myself out of countenance a little by not receiving a share of the lady’s notice; but however much I might chafe at my inability to inspire it, fortune presently played into my hands. The Count of Nullepart, already installed as the favourite, either failed to appreciate or did not choose to consider that the eminence to which he had ascended carried its responsibilities. For, as we wound along the steep paths which led to the castle, we passed, under the shadow of a rock, a strapping rustic peasant girl with a laughing face, bright eyes and cheeks, and a nosegay at her bosom. As we came upon this handsome wench, the Count of Nullepart gazed at her long and particularly, and even permitted himself to express an open approval of her beauty. From that moment our fair companion paid him no more regard. Immediately she turned to me, riding upon her left hand, and proceeded to converse in a most grave and dignified manner.
All the rest of the way I had that arch and imperious voice to myself. Several times its owner pointed with her riding-whip to the fair prospect that was unfolded from this steep hill. I can never forget this picture of the corn-fields, the oak trees, the cattle browsing upon the mountain slopes, which were clad in the fierce white sun. Little rivers ran down shining and sparkling to the Tagus, that fine broad ribbon belted with diamonds which ran to hide itself in the fair city below.
“One day all this will be under my sway as far as the eyes can scan,” said the Countess Sylvia, “and that goodly city that lies below shall be the capital of my dominion.”
When we rode up to the gate of the castle I was put in mind of my previous misfortune. My heart began to beat as the scene returned upon me. I saw myself rejected for the second time, or perchance cast into a dungeon. Yet it was only for a moment that I permitted myself to embrace these fears. For I reflected that this weakness was no part of valour, and that at my side was one who, young as she was, was a beautiful and fearless protectress. In the eyes of her whom I was pledged to serve was that which put vacillation to the blush.
At the first blow I gave to the gate it swung back as before; yet upon our admission, in spite of the presence of the Lady Sylvia, the same formalities had to be enacted as on the previous occasion. She was unknown to the soldiers at the gate, and we had to await, upon her part with the greatest impatiency, the arrival of the captain of the guard.
He received her ladyship with a profound obeisance which did but add fuel to her displeasure. She turned upon him in the most instant manner, and cried, pointing to those who had declined to allow her to proceed, “Put those soldiers in durance. Let them receive a bastinado apiece.”
“But may it please your ladyship,” said the captain of the guard, “they have only been in the service of his grace a twelvemonth; and never having had the honour of seeing your ladyship, they knew you not.”