She stood regarding him with a look of scrutiny.
“You are a rebel against your king,” she said, but not harshly.
“Is not the King soon to have his revenge? 149 And is that a reason why you should leave me now?”
“You deserted your first colors.”
“’Twas in extraordinary circumstances, and in the right cause. And is that a reason why you—”
“You took my horse.”
“But paid you for it, and you have your horse again. Abuse me, madam, but do not go from me. Call me rebel, deserter, robber, what you will, but remain with me. Denunciation from your lips is sweeter than praise from others. Chastise me, strike me, trample on me,—I shall worship you none the less!”
He inclined his body further forward over the chair-back, and thus was very near her. She put out her hand to repel him. He moved back with humility, but took her hand and kissed it, with an appearance of passion qualified by reverence.
“How dare you touch my hand?” And she quickly drew it from him.
“A poor wretch who loves, and is soon to die, dares much!”