'I forgive you now,' she rejoined firmly. 'But I cannot forget. I do not think I ever can,' she went on. 'Last night I was in your charge among strangers. If danger had arisen, whose arm was to shield me, if not yours? If any had insulted me, to whom was I to look, if not to you? Yes, you may well hide your face,' my lady continued, waxing bitter, despite herself. 'I am not at Heritzburg now, and you should have remembered that. I am here with scanty protection, with few means to exact respect, a refugee, if you like, a mark for scandal, and your kinswoman. And you? for shame, Rupert!'
He fell on his knees and seized her hand. 'You are killing me!' he cried in a choking voice, his face pale, his breath coming quickly. 'For I love you, Rotha, I love you! And every word of reproach you utter is death to me.'
'Hush, Rupert!' she said quickly. And she tried to withdraw her hand. He had taken her by surprise.
But he was not to be silenced; he kept her hand, though he rose to his feet. 'It is true,' he answered. 'I have waited long enough. I must speak now, or it may be too late. I tell you, I love you!'
The Countess's face was crimson, her brow dark with vexation. 'Hush!' she said again, and more imperatively. 'I have heard enough. It is useless.'
'You have not heard me!' he answered. 'Don't say so until you have heard me.' And he sat down suddenly on the tree beside her, and looked into her face with pleading eyes. 'You are letting last night weigh against me,' he went on. 'If that be all, I will never drink more than three cups of wine at a time as long as I live. I swear it.'
She shook her head rather sadly. 'That is not all, Rupert,' she said.
'Then what will you have?' he answered eagerly. He saw the change in her, and his eyes began to burn with hope as he looked. Her milder tone, her downcast head, her altered aspect, all encouraged him. 'I love you, Rotha!' he cried, raising her hand to his lips. 'What more will you have? Tell me. All I have, and all I ever shall have--and I am young and may do great things--are yours. I have been riding behind you day by day, until I know every turn of your head, and every note of your voice. I know your step when you walk, and the rustle of your skirt among a hundred! And there is no other woman in the world for me! What if I am the youngest cadet of my house?' he continued, leaning towards her; 'this war will last many a year yet, and I will carve you a second county with my sword. Wallenstein did. Who was he? A simple gentleman. Now he is Duke of Friedland. And that Englishman who married a king's sister? They succeeded, why should not I? Only give me your love, Rotha! Trust me; trust me once more and always, and I will not fail you.'
He tried to draw her nearer to him, but the Countess shook her head, and looked at him with tears in her eyes. 'Poor boy,' she said slowly. 'Poor boy! I am sorry, but it cannot be. It can never be.'
'Why?' he cried, starting as if she had stung him.