“Certainly, Sir Norman; I shall be delighted to do so. Let us stand over there in the shadow of that arch; and, George, do you remain here within call.”
The count blandly waved Sir Norman to follow, which Sir Norman did, with much the mein of a sulky lion; and, a moment after, both were facing each other within the archway.
“Well!” cried the young knight, impatiently; “I am waiting. Go on!”
“My dear Kingsley,” responded the count, in his easy way, “I think you are laboring under a little mistake. I have nothing to go on about; it is you who are to begin the controversy.”
“Do you dare to play with me?” exclaimed Sir Norman, furiously. “I tell you to take care how you speak! What have you done with Leoline?”
“That is the fourth or fifth time that you've asked me that question,” said the count, with provoking indifference. “What do you imagine I have done with her?”
Sir Norman's feelings, which had been rising ever since their meeting, got up to such a height at this aggravating question, that he gave vent to an oath, and laid his hand on his sword; but the count's hand lightly interposed before it came out.
“Not yet, Sir Norman. Be calm; talk rationally. What do you accuse me of doing with Leoline?”
“Do you dare deny having carried her off?”
“Deny it? No; I am never afraid to father my own deeds.”