'Let them wait outside the tent till I am ready,' said Farniente. 'Good night!'
The rest of us, however, went towards the wood to meet the three ladies, who were making their way to our temporary domicile, preceded by two musicians playing the horn, and two youths bearing torches, the latter being the sons of a clergyman in the neighbourhood, at whose house the ladies had slept. Observing the peasant costume of my friend and myself, the ladies asked who we were, and were told by the military man that we were two soldiers of his regiment, who, being in the adjacent village, had assisted in putting up the tent.
'Lads,' said he, addressing us in a tone of command, 'can you fetch some water for us from the nearest stream, and get some wood for us to boil our coffee? I will go with you.'
'No, no, sir--that would be a shame,' said my cousin, in the Jutland dialect; 'we will bring all that is wanted ourselves.'
When we returned to the tent it was broad daylight; Farniente had been compelled to vacate his couch of cloaks, and in his lively way was greeting the fair guests with 'Good morning, my three Graces.' The officers told us, aside, that two of the ladies were his sisters, and were about to tell us more, when a waltz on the turf was proposed by Farniente, who seized one of the ladies, whom he called Sybilla, as his partner. The merchant danced with another, to whom it appeared he was engaged, and the officer took his youngest sister. Their hilarity was infectious, and my cousin dragged me round for want of a better partner, whereupon the fair Sybilla, who had observed our dancing, remarked that we were 'really not at all awkward for peasant lads.'
While they were taking their coffee afterwards, during which time we stood respectfully at a little distance, my cousin whispered to me how much he admired the lieutenant's youngest sister, who was indeed extremely pretty. He had not hitherto heard her voice, but he could not help seeing that she looked attentively--even inquisitively at him. By Farniente's request, the ladies handed us some coffee, after having done which they made some remarks upon us to each other in German. At that moment my cousin let his coffee-cup drop suddenly to the ground, and standing as motionless as one of the trees in the wood, he fixed his eyes upon the youngest girl with a very peculiar expression, which called the deepest blushes to her cheek. We all looked on in surprise, but I began to suspect the truth. Farniente was the first to speak.
'Min Herre!' said he, 'it is time that you should lay aside your incognito, for it is evident that you and this lady have met before.'
My cousin had by this time recovered his speech and his self-possession. He went up to the young lady, and said:--'For the first time to-day have I had the happiness of seeing those lips from which I have twice heard a voice whose accents delighted me. In that voice I cannot be mistaken, so deep was the impression it made upon me. Dare I flatter myself that my voice has not been quite forgotten by you?'
Catherina--that was her name--replied with a smile,--
'I have neither forgotten your voice nor your face, though last time we met you were a Spanish grandee.'