He bent his knee and kissed her robe, and bowed lower to kiss the tiny foot in its blue satin shoe.  Then he raised one of these pretty feet and kissed it again, and placed it on his breast, holding it fast there with both his hands.

“Mistress,” he whispered, lifting up to her his countenance, beaming with love and enthusiasm—­“mistress, your slave lies before you.  Crush me, let me be dust beneath your feet, if you do not love me; let me die here, or swear to me that you will ever love me, that to-morrow night you will link your destiny indissolubly with mine!”

“I will ever love you,” she breathed forth, with a magical smile; “to-morrow night I will link my fate to yours.”

“Give me a pledge of your vow, a sign, a token of this hour!” entreated he, still holding the little foot between his hands.

“What sort of pledge do you require, beloved of my heart?  Ask, command; whatever it may be, it shall be yours!”

With beaming, happy look he gazed upon her glowing countenance, and nodded to her, and whispered words full of tenderness and love, and at the same time with fondling hand loosened the silver buckle which fastened the blue satin shoe upon her foot, drew off the slipper from her little foot, whose rosy hue was transparent through the white silk stocking, and smilingly thrust it into the breast pocket of his velvet jacket.  “But, Frederick, my shoe—­give me back my shoe,” said she, laughing; and her little hand and wondrous arm dived into his pocket to recover the stolen shoe.  But the Prince held fast the little hand, whose warm, soft touch he felt to the deepest recesses of his heart, and pressed warm, glowing kisses on that ravishing arm, which seemed to quiver and tremble at the touch of his lips.

“My shoe,” she breathed softly—­“give me my shoe!”

“Never!” said he energetically.  “No, I swear it, so truly as I love you, I shall never give back to you this precious jewel.  Mine it remains, and not for all the treasures of the earth do I give it back again.  Here, on my heart, it shall rest, the charming little shoe, and when I die it shall rest beside me in my coffin.”

“No, no, I will have it again!” cried Ludovicka.  “My heavens! what would my chambermaid say, if to-morrow morning one of my shoes had vanished—­been spirited away?”

“Let her say and think what she pleases, dearest.  Tell her you will direct her where to find it on the day after to-morrow.  Think you not that when our flight is discovered, she will readily guess who has stolen your shoe?”

“But see, Frederick, see my poor foot; it is freezing, pining for its house!”

And smilingly Ludovicka extended toward the Prince her shoeless little foot.  He took it between his hands and breathed on it with his glowing breath, and pressed upon it his burning lips.

“Forgive me, you beautiful foot, for having robbed you of your house.  But look you, dear foot, the little house shall now become a sacred memento of my love and my betrothal; and look you, dear foot, I swear to you that you shall walk in pleasant paths.  I shall strew flowers for you, you shall tread upon roses, and not a thorn shall prick you and not a stone bruise you.  That I swear to you, you little foot of the great enchantress, and therefore forgive me my theft!”