“Fair maid,” he said, “unless thy father bring me sixty thousand crowns by to-night, thy doom is sealed. Thou shalt swing from yon lone pine.”
He pointed dramatically out of the window to a diminutive hawthorn hedge.
The captive whirled round on one foot, fair curls flying.
“FAIR MAID,” HE SAID, “UNLESS THY FATHER BRING ME
SIXTY THOUSAND CROWNS, THOU SHALT SWING FROM YON
LONE PINE.”
“Oh, he’s going to make me a swing! Nice boy!”
William rose, majestic and stately, still cautiously holding his mask. “My name,” he said, “is Rudolph of the Red Hand.”
“Well, I’ll kiss you, dear Rudolph Hand,” she said, “if you like.”
William’s look intimated that he did not like.
“Oh, you’re shy!” said Lady Barbara, delightedly.