Arms and the Woman - Page 168/169

"She loves you," whispered Gretchen.

This admitted no reply. I simply pressed my lips to her hair. The

sobs were growing audibly less.

"I read it in her eyes," persisted Gretchen.

"Gretchen, answer me: do you love me?"

"Yes."

I placed my hands against her temples, and turned her head around so

that those blue-green eyes, humid and tearful, looked into mine.

"Oh, I cannot deny it. If I wrong her in accepting your love, it is

because I cannot help it. I love you better than all the world; so

well do I love you that--" Her head sank on my heart, and her sobs

began afresh.

"That what, Gretchen?" I asked.

"Nothing." By and by she said; "Keep faith with me, and I promise to

love as few women can."

Then I kissed her lips. "Gretchen?"

"What is it?"

"I have an idea that we shall be very happy. Now let us go and make

terms of peace with the innkeeper."

We found him alone in the barroom.

"Gretchen," said I, "read this note."

As her eyes ran over those six words, she blushed.

"Hermann," she said, "you have betrayed me."

"And when will Your Highness order me out to be shot?" asked he,

smiling.

"At sunrise; but I shall blindfold the soldiers and take the charges

from their guns. I forgive you."

"Now, Hermann," said I, "fill me up a stein." I held it high above my

head. "A health! Long live the King! Long live Her Serene Highness

the Princess--"

"Elizabeth," said Gretchen, gently. "I fear she has lost something

which is never to be found again."

I drained the stein, and as I set it down I thought: Phyllis is so far

away and Gretchen is so near!

"Let us go into the garden," said I.

For a long time we wandered here and there, saying nothing. I was

thinking that I had found a castle at last which neither tides nor

winds nor sudden awakenings could tumble down.

"Gretchen, you must never take up the sword again."

"Only in my lord's defence." From the movement of her arm, which clung

to mine, I knew that she was laughing.

The moon had risen, the round and mellow moon of summer. The silver

mists of night wavered and sailed through the aisles of the forests,

and from the river came the cool fresh perfume of the river rush.