“Perhaps she is more bored than boring,” replied Isabella.
The stranger looked at her attentively. “Who are you, I wonder, that you know so much about this? Perhaps a lady’s maid from the castle?”
She stammered timidly: “Yes.” She had learned so little, did not know how to tell even a lie.
“Well, if that is so, I wish you would tell me a little about your mistress. I heard that she was quite a nice-looking puppet, pulled by a string, either by her father or her lady-in-waiting. Is she not going to marry Count Vierstein in the near future?”
“She is not quite such a puppet as you think!” cried Isabella, very indignantly, and in quite another tone. “The string is broken; she is not going to marry this wild Count, not under any circumstances!”
“Oh, oh! Is the Count really so wild? And how do you know that?”
“He lives only among hunters, horses, dogs, and soldiers, and roams the woods all day long!”
“So, so! And why are you roaming through old castles all alone, my highly virtuous young woman?”
“I? Oh, I wished to see the schoolmaster and the—the tower that was blown up yesterday,” Isabella answered, very much embarrassed.
“Well, I intended to see the tower too; the schoolmaster’s book interested me—”