"Pardon me, dear sire!" she pleaded faintly. "Forgive the love which carried me beyond reason. I could not stay my tongue, dear lord. I was mad!"
Softened by the girl's words and timid look, Karl relaxed his frown.
"Daughter of Rudulf," he said, "it is I who am at fault. You are far other than I thought,--I own it with shame! Here, then, is an end; for as to your foolish dream, that may never be. No woman lives who can thrust from my heart the daughter of Childebrand."
"Then all is over, dear lord; I may not hope?"
"All is over, maiden."
For a while the girl stood silent, one of her skate-runners tapping gently on the ice. But then, forcing as it were the words from her lips, she murmured hurriedly: "Your Majesty, is it not best I should be returning?"
"Not you alone, maiden! Whoever's afield should be seeking shelter. Already the oak-tops moan with the coming storm. But fear nothing. We shall soon be warming our knees by the cheery hall-fire."
"But how, sire, of those who-- Ah, Holy Mother forgive me! I forgot; in my love and joy, I forgot! Kosru the leech-- Oh, hasten, sire! The lads and Rothada,--they are on the river, and with them our gracious dame!"
"Hildegarde!" roared Karl, in angry alarm.
"The queen," echoed Fastrada, and she shrank back in real fear of the king's threatening gesture. But he advanced, only to motion her up the river.