"Once more I entreat you," said Gualtier, more earnestly.
"Once more I refuse," said Hilda. "Go and do this thing first, and then come and ask me."
"Will you _then_ promise me?"
"I will tell you nothing now."
"Lady Chetwynde, for the last time I _implore_ you to give me some ground for hope at least. Tell me--if this thing be accomplished, will you give me what I want?"
"I will make no engagement whatever," said Hilda, coldly.
Gualtier at this seemed to raise himself at once above his dejection, his humility, and his prayerful attitude, to a new and stronger assertion of himself.
"Very well," said he, gravely and sternly. "Now listen to me, Lady Chetwynde. I will no longer entreat--I insist that you give me this promise."
"Insist!"
Nothing can describe the scorn and contempt of Hilda's tone as she uttered this word.