The eyes of Anna lighted up with that vanity which the language of the Earl was so well calculated to feed, as she laughed, and said in a low and almost breathless voice—
"And would you indeed have maintained this?"
"At the point of this sword, which my good-sire drew by Pinkie-burn, I would have upheld it, madam—yea, to the last gasp!"
"I thank your courtesy, my Lord Bothwell; but," she asked in a manner that seemed perfectly artless, "what could inspire so much bravery and enthusiasm in my behalf?"
"Ah, what but love!" whispered the handsome Earl, while his dark eyes filled with the softest languor. Anna blushed crimson, and a pause ensued.
A shade perceptibly crossed the brow of Konrad. He had picked up a smattering of French while commanding his band of crossbowmen in the Lubeck war, and knew enough to perceive how dangerous to the love he had so long borne Anna, was the tendency of this discourse.
"My lord," said he, with an anger which he could not entirely conceal, "with an intent so foolish, I fear your red shield would have hung on Frederick's gate like the wood-demon's annual axe—till it rusted away, ere any man would have touched it."
"Sir Konrad," replied the Earl haughtily, "you may be right, for none will dare to dispute the beauty of Lady Anna."
"Why not?" asked Konrad with blunt honesty. "Beauty exists often in the mind of a lover alone; and all men cannot love the same woman."
The Earl smiled, and twirled his mustaches.