“And pray, capitan, what would you have me do?”
I felt embarrassed, and replied not.
“Would you have me declare that I love you?”
“Oh! you cannot—you do not—”
“You have not asked the question!”
“No, lady. I too much dread the answer.”
“Ho! what a coward you have grown of late! A pity I am not masked. Shall I draw this veil? Ha, ha, ha!”
It was not the manner of love. Love laughs not. My heart was heavy; I made no reply, but with eyes upon the ground, sat in my saddle, feeling like one condemned.
For some moments her laughter rang in my ears, as I fancied, in mockery. Her sweet silvery voice only grated upon my heart. Oh, that I had never listened to its siren tones!
I heard the hoof-stroke of her horse; and, looking up, saw that she was moving away from the spot. Was she going to leave me thus?