And kneeling in front of the young girl, he eagerly took hold of her hand, which no longer refused to let him touch it, but, on the contrary, was rather advanced to meet his lips.
“Is it my fault?” said Gertrudis, in a tone of sweet playfulness. “Is it my fault if men are slow at taking a hint? Santissima! for a full quarter of an hour, shameful as it may appear, have I been endeavouring to prepare you for what you call your happiness.” Then suddenly laying aside her playful tone, she continued—“But now, my dear Rafael, I must remember my vow. I have made it, and you must assist me in its accomplishment.”
“But why did you promise your hair?” inquired the lover, with a slight air of chagrin.
“Because I had nothing more valuable to offer in exchange for your life—mine perhaps as well. Oh! I am well repaid for the sacrifice by knowing that you love me. Come, Rafael! take the scissors.”
“Oh! I could never manage with that weak instrument,” said Don Rafael, speaking merely to gain time.
“Ah! are you going to complain of the trouble it will give you?” inquired Gertrudis, bending down towards her lover, who was still kneeling before her—“Come, my brave Rafael! Use these scissors. I command you.”
Don Rafael took the shining instrument in his trembling hand, but still hesitated to use them—like the woodman, who, with his axe raised against some noble tree of the forest he has been ordered to cut down, hesitates before striking the first blow. Gertrudis would have smiled to encourage him, but at that moment, as she looked upon those gorgeous tresses, so long and carefully guarded, and which, if unfolded, would have covered her like a shawl, the poor young girl could not hinder a tear from escaping her.
“Stay, my Rafael—a moment yet,” cried she, while the crimson blush mantled higher upon her cheeks. “I have long desired—dreamt of it as a supreme felicity—to entwine in these poor tresses the man whom I should one day love, and—and—”
Before she could finish speaking, Don Rafael had caught the perfumed tresses between his fingers, and rapturously kissing them, passed them around his neck.
“Now I am ready,” continued she, raising the long plaits that encircled her lover’s cheeks, and setting the captive free. “Go on, Rafael! I am ready.”