Count De Montfort strolled leisurely to and fro on the rising ground in front of the castle, rapt in admiration of the fine scenery and noble woods which environed it on all its sides. Then he turned to take a leisurely survey of the massive proportions of the castle, and, with a veteran soldier's instincts, fell to a planning of additional fortifications, so as to increase its impregnability. Whilst thus engaged, a figure seen in the distance, caused the complacent smile to vanish from his countenance, and his visage grew dark with a frown. The intruder was none other than Baron Vigneau, who, after salutations, said,—
"When may I expect the fulfilment of the promise made to me at York, Count? Lady Alice has now had some months of preparation, and now the time has come when our nuptials should be celebrated."
"Well, what says the lady, Baron? If you have her consent there need be no further delay. I have no opposition to offer, though, as Alice's father, and wishing her happiness, I am bound to say I wish you would eschew the wine-cup. I note with pain and concern this most unwholesome habit grows apace."
"Tut, tut, Count! Many thanks for your homily! But to the point in hand. I have no recollection that the lady's consent had aught to do with the bargain. Soldiers usually dispense with ceremonies of that description, and, by your consent, we will still consider it apart from her ladyship's wishes or whims. 'Twas, I think, a part of the wages of services rendered."
"But, as a soldier and a knight, making professions of gallantry and the rest of it, you would not think of forcing a lady's hand? Surely you have opportunities of winning her as a soldier should. I have expressly stated that such are my wishes. What more can you expect of me?"
"Finely spoken no doubt! But I would remind you of a matter which you know well enough without a reminder, that I have not the manners of a simpering gallant, nor am I used to chanting love-songs beneath my lady's window. I am a soldier, a blunt and unpolished one maybe. Alice has been thoroughly well spoiled, that is plain enough, by prating nuns and her convent life. Her head has been filled with their silly notions of romance, and religious scruples. My rough life does not fit me for playing the part of a dangling fop, or uttering canting lies about religion. Bah!"
"I cannot force my daughter into this marriage, Baron. Win her if you can," said the Count peremptorily.
"A bargain is a bargain, force or no force, and I'll have it kept. Any canting parade of virtue will not go down with me; I'm too familiar with your antecedents. If this promise is not ratified promptly, I'll straight away to the king and expose your foul conspiracy, and I shall have the pleasure of seeing your head dangling from the gate within a week. Then the haughty wench, your daughter, will rue the day she vented her scorn on me."
"Cowardly villain!" said the Count. "Come with me to yonder copse, and I'll measure steel with you."
"Not quite so fast, master. I keep my mettle for other purposes. We'll try steel as a last resort. But in the meantime, I'd rather have your daughter than your blood; and nothing prevents but the lack of your commands. Let these be forthcoming, and all is well; but I'll not be trifled with, mark me!"