"I will own," he said, with a confused look, "that I was infatuated by the hostess at Pfullingen; she told me something about you, which I could not hear with indifference."
"The hostess? about me?" cried Bertha, smiling; "well, but what brought you, at that late hour of the night, to this place?"
"Never mind, dearest; we'll not think of it any more. I know I acted like a fool. The exiled knight has quite convinced me how wrong I was."
"No, no," she replied, earnestly, "I am not going to let you escape so cheap; what had that chatterbox to say about me? tell me immediately----"
"Well, then, I give you leave to laugh at me as much as you please: she told me you had another lover, who came to visit you every night, whilst your father slept."
Bertha blushed; indignation, and the inclination to smile at a ridiculous story, contended for the mastery on her expressive features. "Well, I hope," she replied, "you repelled the calumny with proper contempt, and left her house immediately. That was the reason, I suppose, of your arriving here so late, with the intention of passing the night under our roof."
"I honestly avow, I had no such thought. You know I was not quite convalescent, so excuse my weakness. I really did not believe her at first; but when she brought your nurse, old Rosel, to substantiate what she said, and who moreover lamented that I had been deceived, I----oh, do not turn away from me, Bertha; do not be angry! I threw myself on my horse, and rode direct to the castle, for the purpose of exchanging a word with him who dared to love you."
"And could you believe that?" she answered, with tears starting into her eyes: "I cannot think that Rosel said any thing of the kind, though she is fond of a gossip; I am not angry with the hostess, for she does not know better; but that you, you Albert, should give credit to so foul a falsehood, and think it necessary to convince yourself, that----" The tears of the faithful girl flowed in abundance; and the feeling of mortification choked her further utterance.
Her lover was overcome by the sense of his egregious folly; but he also felt the consolation, that though he was to be blamed his suspicions arose purely out of the intensity of his love. "Pardon me this once, dearest; let me assure you, that the jealousy which tormented me, unfounded as it was, would never have been inflamed into reality, did not my whole existence depend upon you."
"He who really loves can never harbour a spark of jealousy, founded upon such reports," said Bertha, in displeasure; "you hinted something of the same kind once before in Ulm, which you know hurt me very deeply. But if you had known me, and loved me with the same unalterable attachment that I love you, you never could have entertained such thoughts."