"Perfectly! Wulfhere and the hound are a pair of faithful and valiant defenders."
"No, no!" almost shrieked Jeannette. "You must not go! You will be killed and eaten! I have heard for certain that these horrid Saxons eat people!"
"Nonsense, Jeannette! Don't be foolish, and don't listen to such silly tales!"
"Oh, dear! I shall be eaten if you aren't! Holy Mother protect me!" said she, crossing herself; and, pulling her rosary out of her bosom, she began counting her beads most violently.
"Come, my pretty," said Wulfhere, in his blandest tones. "If I were a cannibal I wouldn't eat you. Sit on this fallen tree; I and the hound will keep a respectful distance." So saying, he retreated half a dozen paces from her, and began putting the dog through some capers.
"If you eat Jeannette, Wulfhere, I shall call you to account when I come back," said Oswald laughingly, as the boat sped away.
In the meantime, Jeannette sat rocking herself in great distress, watching the receding boat, and telling her beads at a great pace, whilst Wulfhere continued his play with the hound, quite oblivious—or apparently oblivious—of the tearful maiden. But nothing to this pretty Frenchwoman was so insupportable as to be ignored. So, after bemoaning her distressing circumstances without finding any special calamity happening, she began casting furtive glances at her Saxon comrade, and she gradually dropped her cries and tears, at his nonchalant behaviour, and her beads began to pass much more slowly through her fingers. To her coquettish fancy there was something piquant in the indifference of this stalwart Saxon. Her curiosity was excited, and this speedily passed into admiration for the muscular limbs and well-developed frame of Wulfhere. For it is not in the disposition of many daughters of Eve—much less in such as this coquettish Frenchwoman was—to look upon such a fine piece of muscular anatomy as Wulfhere's, without falling into admiration of it. This did not pass unmarked by him, despite the hypocritical indifference which he had assumed. Presently he turned his gaze upon Jeannette, and a good-humoured grin spread over his features, developing into a broad smile, as he ventured to break the silence.
"I say, pretty one, you'll not run away whilst I'm gathering a few sticks to make the fire with, will you, eh?"
"Fire!" exclaimed Jeannette, clutching her beads, which had dropped into her lap. "What do you want a fire for?"
"Want a fire for! Why, I couldn't think of eating you raw!" and he twirled on his heel, to laugh.