These interruptions served to make Sir Walter more impatient than ever. Would he never be able to make love in peace? He took a long breath, leaned forward, and whispered eagerly: "May I hope? Or are you promised to some one else?"
And for answer, while Eva hid her eyes for fear they would tell of her love too soon, there was Magdalena again!
"Yes, Sir Walter," said Magdalena, and she curtsied low, wishing to be most polite to this handsome young man.
"Yes, Sir Walter," she repeated. "Our Eva is betrothed."
Betrothed? Sir Walter was stunned into silence; misery spread itself like a black cloud over his face. Nor did the reply please Miss Eva, either. She quickly interrupted, saying:
"But no one knows who the bridegroom will be. No, not until to-morrow."
Sir Walter knit his brows. That was amazing! Was it a puzzle? What did it mean?
Eva and Magdalena hastened to explain. After all, it was very simple.
Out in the meadows near Nuremberg a song festival was to be held to-morrow. It was to be a great singing match. And Eva's father had promised part of his fortune, and his daughter besides, to the singer who should win the prize. Eva herself was to crown the victor with a wreath of laurel. "But," they continued, "he must be a Master Singer. No one may even try for the prize who is not a member of the guild."
"Are you not a Master Singer, Sir Walter?" inquired Eva, timidly, and it was plain that she wished with all her heart to hear him say yes.