"If young Albert accompanied you, you would have no objections to go," answered the other smiling, and chucking the blushing girl under the chin; "is it not so? You would not hesitate to follow him there, much as you appear to dread it now."
"Ah! sir," she replied, "how can you talk in that way? Do you know, I'll not come down again to let you in if you take such liberties."
"Well, but I merely spoke in jest," said the knight, and gently pinched her glowing cheek; "you know how little opportunity I have in my dwelling to enjoy a joke. What will you give me to say a good word to your father, to induce him to make the youth your husband? You are aware the old gentleman does every thing I ask him; and if I recommend a son-in-law to him, he would accept him at all hazards."
Bertha opened wide her beautiful eyes, and cast a grateful look at him. "Dear sir," she answered, "I will not forbid your saying a kind word for Albert, particularly as my father is well inclined towards him."
"But I shall expect some reward for my trouble. Everything has its price; so what will you give?"
Bertha cast her eyes to the ground. "A heartfelt thank-ye," she replied; "but come, sir, my father has been waiting for us a long time."
She was in the act of leading on, when the knight, taking her by the hand, detained her. Albert's heart beat so hard as almost to be heard; he broke out into a violent heat, and then became ice-cold; he laid hold of the handle of the door, and was on the point of sallying forth to forbid the promise of a fixed price being given upon any pretext.
"Why are you in such haste?" he heard the man of the cavern say. "Well, for one kiss only, and I will persuade your father to send for the priest on the spot, to perform the holy ceremony." He bent his head towards the offended, blushing girl. Albert saw every thing swimming before his eyes, and was again on the point of bursting from his place of concealment, but the determined reply of his lady love checked him from taking the rash step. She beheld the man with a forbidding look. "It is impossible your Grace can be in earnest," she said; "otherwise you now see me for the last time."
"If you knew how much this scornful air becomes you," he answered, with unaltered kindness, "you would never cease to be in anger. At any rate I admire your fidelity; for when the heart is deeply engaged with one object, none other need hope for such a favour. But on your marriage day I will demand the favour, with the permission of your bridegroom, and then we'll see who is right."
"That you may do," said Bertha, smiling, whilst she withdrew her hand from his, and led the way with the light in her hand; "but you had better prepare yourself for a refusal, for he is not fond of trifling on this point."