Gaston had never meant to speak thus when he and his companion first began this walk through the winding woodland path.  Then his thoughts had been filled with his brother and him alone, and there had been no space for other matters to intrude upon him.  But with a mind more at rest as to Raymond’s immediate fate, he could not but be aware of the intense fascination exercised upon him by his companion; and before he well knew what he was saying, he was pouring into her ears these ardent protestations of devotion.

Her fair face flushed, and the liquid eyes, so full of softness and fire, fell before his ardent gaze.  The little hand he had taken in his own quivered in his strong clasp, and Gaston felt with a thrill of ecstatic joy that it faintly returned the pressure of his fingers.

“Lady, sweetest Lady!” he repeated, his words growing more and more rapid as his emotion deepened, “let me hear thee say that thou wilt grant me leave to call myself thy true knight!  Let me hear from those sweet lips that there is none before me who has won the love of this generous heart!”

The maid was quivering from head to foot.  Such words were like a new language to her, and yet her heart gave a ready and sweet response.  Had she not sung of knightly wooers in the soft songs of her childhood, and had she not dreamed her own innocent dreams of him who would one day come to seek her?  And had not that dream lover always worn the knightly mien, the proud and handsome face, of him she had seen but once, and that for one brief hour alone?  Was it hard to give to him the answer he asked?  And yet how could she frame her lips aright to tell him she had loved him ere he had asked her love?

“Fair Sir, how should a lonely maid dwelling in these wild woods know aught of that knightly love of which our troubadours so sweetly sing?  I have scarce seen the face of any since I have come to these solitudes; only the rough and terrible faces of those wild soldiers and savages who follow mine uncle when he rideth forth on his forays.”

Gaston’s heart gave a throb of joy; but it was scarce the moment to press his suit farther.  Who could tell what the next few hours might bring forth?  He might himself fall a victim, ere another day had passed, to the ancient foe of his house.  It was enough for the present to know that the fair girl’s heart was free.

He raised the hand he held and pressed his lips upon it, saying in tenderest tones: 

“From henceforth —­ my brother once standing free without these walls —­ I am thy true knight and champion, Lady.  Give me, I pray thee, that knot of ribbon at thy neck.  Let me place it in my head piece, and feel that I am thine indeed for life or death.”

With a hand that trembled, but not from hesitation, Constanza unfastened the simple little knot she wore as her sole ornament, and gave it to Gaston.  They exchanged one speaking glance, but no word passed their lips.