“The gold chain?” said Otto. “Prefer a gold chain to a cap worked by that august hand? Never!” And advancing to the balcony where the Princess, who now came to herself, was sitting, he kneeled down before her, and received the velvet cap; which, blushing as scarlet as the cap itself, the Princess Helen placed on his golden ringlets. Once more their eyes met—their hearts thrilled. They had never spoken, but they knew they loved each other for ever.
“Wilt thou take service with the Rowski of Donnerblitz?” said that individual to the youth. “Thou shalt be captain of my archers in place of yon blundering nincompoop, whom thou hast overcome.”
“Yon blundering nincompoop is a skilful and gallant archer,” replied Otto, haughtily; “and I will NOT take service with the Rowski of Donnerblitz.”
“Wilt thou enter the household of the Prince of Cleves?” said the father of Helen, laughing, and not a little amused at the haughtiness of the humble archer.
“I would die for the Duke of Cleves and HIS FAMILY,” said Otto, bowing low. He laid a particular and a tender emphasis on the word family. Helen knew what he meant. SHE was the family. In fact her mother was no more, and her papa had no other offspring.
“What is thy name, good fellow,” said the Prince, “that my steward may enroll thee?”
“Sir,” said Otto, again blushing, “I am OTTO THE ARCHER.”