"I sat on horseback outside the North Gate, having just arrived from Frankfort, when the Archbishop and his train passed through on their way to the summer palace. I saw you riding by his side, and discovered who you were."
"Were you similarly inquisitive regarding the other ladies of the Court?"
"I saw no others, madame."
The Countess seemed taken aback by this reply and remained silent for a few moments. At last she said, with deep displeasure in her voice:
"I distrust you, sir. If you are a gentleman, as you say, you are aware that none such thrusts himself uninvited into a lady's presence. I ask you, therefore, to leave us."
"I am truly grieved, madame, to refuse your slightest request, but I will not leave you until I see you safely at the gate of Castle Thuron."
This refusal at once confirmed all the fears the Countess had entertained. With rising anger she cried:
"Not to the gates of Thuron will you deliver me, but to the Archbishop's troops at Bruttig, and then return to Treves for your reward."
Having said this she did what any girl of nineteen might have been expected to do—she buried her face in her hands and wept.