The lady threw her bridle to the rider by her side and sprang from the horse before a servant could come to her assistance.
"Will you give me your linen frock?" she went on. "I will pay you for it as if it were a royal robe."
The girl laughed; she thought the lady was jesting.
"Come round and let me in," commanded the stranger.
"Dear Countess--I beg of you--what have you taken into your head?" whispered the knight.
"I am going to the consecration of this priest," said the Countess laughing. "But I must not be recognised and shall mingle with the peasant girls--do you understand?"
"But consider, I beg of you, such a proceeding is most unbecoming for you," remonstrated the knight.
"I know best what is or is not becoming for myself. You others must ride off by another way, up to where the ruins of the old fortress of Castellatz will afford you shelter against sun or rain; there you must remain concealed till we proceed on our journey."
"Could we not find shelter in the convent itself," said the knight, "as we did lately with the Duchess?"
The Countess laughed. "And do you think those strict old gentlemen would receive a wandering maid-of-honour--particularly on a day so solemn? You little know them. Do as I desire you, my Lord, and your obedience shall meet with its reward," she added with a meaning glance of such promise as brought the blood to her companion's cheeks for joy.