"From instinct. Needs a man ever to learn how to tell a woman he loves her? How to descant upon charms and graces he sees limned in beauty before his eyes? How can you say I do not love you?"
"Have you read of King Arthur's knights, and how they dared mighty deeds of prowess for the damsels they loved?"
"Yes, and so would I—were there deeds of prowess to be done. But I, a prisoner," and then I stopped, ashamed that I should complain, like a whining stripling, of the fortunes of war,—which in truth had used me but too kindly in all save enforced inactivity.
"True, there are no deeds of prowess you may do now, but one single act of self-sacrifice would convince me of your love."
"Only name it, dear Nelly," and I leaned nearer and caught in mine the hands that folded in her lap.
"It will serve to prove the value of your protestations—though I know beforehand you will not consent."
"First name my reward; were it but one kiss from those sweet lips, I'll engage to earn it at any cost."
"It might be something more lasting than a kiss, an' you would," and Nelly blushed adorably, and dropped the soft fringe of her eyes upon her glowing cheeks.
"Your dear self, Nelly, your love?" I questioned ardently, kissing the hands I still imprisoned, and dropping on my knees beside her, that I might force her eyes to meet mine.
"Even my own poor self—nor is the sacrifice I would ask so great; indeed it carries with it a compensation which by many would be deemed ample reward, were all you are now bargaining for left out of the contract. Can you not guess what proof of your sincerity I would claim?"