Somehow my spirit to its depth by that same sound was stirred;
And closer Ruth towards me drew that slender form of hers,
As came the clanking of a sword whose scabbard clinked with spurs.
We turned. A horseman was at hand, in gay apparel clad,
Upon his dark-green coat much braid and golden lace he had;
A man of goodly presence. He gazed curiously at each,
Then spake (thee knows we understand round here the German speech):
“Ah! Sie ist deine Schwester, Mann?”—at which I shook my head.
“So! deine Frau vielleicht? ’ne Braut! Sehr gut! Ein Schmatz!” he said.
“There, that will do, friend officer,” in wrath was my reply;