"You are Joco Hics," he said; "two years ago you deserted from my regiment."
The strong, tall, young peasant began to tremble so that his knees knocked together, but could not answer a single word. Fritz Winter, Ritter von Wallishausen, whispered into Joco's ear, his speech agitated and stuttering: "You have a woman with you," he said, "who surely is not your wife. Set her free. I will buy her from you for any price you ask. You can go away with your bears and pluck yourself another such flower where you found this one."
Joco stood motionless for a while as if turned into stone.
He did not tremble any longer: the crisis was over. He had only been frightened as long as he was uncertain whether or not he would be instantly hanged if he were found out.
"In all Bosnia," he answered gloomily, "there was only one such flower and that I stole."
Before a man who was willing to share his guilt, he dared acknowledge his crime. In truth, this man was no better than himself. He only wore finer clothes.
The Captain became impatient. "Are you going to give her up, or not?" he asked. "I do not want to harm you; but I could put you in prison and in chains, and what would become of your sweetheart then?"
Joco answered proudly: "She would cry her eyes out for me; otherwise she would not have run away from her rich father's house for my sake."
Ah! thought the Captain, if it were only that! By degrees I could win her to me.
But it was not advisable to make a fuss, whether for the sake of his position or because of his wife, who lived in town.