“Then I should have been dead by now—­dead, unforgiven!”

“But you will still die!”

“Yes, I must still die, unless—­”

“Sheath your sword, my lord.  The sun strikes it, and it dazzles my eyes.”

“That cannot be; for your eyes are brighter than sun and sword together.”

“Then I must shade them with the leaves.”

“Yes, shade them with the leaves,” he whispered.  “Madam, is there no token of forgiveness?”

An absolute silence followed for a little while.  Then Osra said: 

“Why did you swear on your honor?”

“Because it is an oath that I cannot break.”

“Indeed, I wish that I had not come,” sighed Princess Osra.

Again came silence.  The bough was pressed down for an instant; then it swayed swiftly up again; and its leaves brushed the cheek of Monsieur de Merosailles.  And he laughed loud and joyfully.

“Something touched my cheek,” said he.

“It must have been a leaf,” said Princess Osra.

“Ah, a leaf!”

“I think so,” said Princess Osra.

“Then it was a leaf of the Tree of Life,” said Monsieur de
Merosailles.

“I wish some one would set me on my horse,” said Osra.

“That you may ride back to the castle—­alone?”

“Yes, unless you would relieve my brother’s anxiety.”

“It would be courteous to do that much,” said the Marquis.

So they mounted, and rode back through the forest.  In an hour the Princess had come, and in the space of something over two hours they returned; yet during all this time they spoke hardly a word; and although the sun was now set, yet the glow remained on the face and in the eyes of Princess Osra; while Monsieur de Merosailles, being forgiven, rode with a smile on his lips.

But when they came to the castle, Prince Rudolf ran out to meet them, and he cried almost before he reached them.

“Hasten, hasten!  There is not a moment, to lose, if the marquis values life or liberty!” And when he came to them, he told them that a waiting-woman had been false to Monsieur de Merosailles, and, after taking his money, had hid herself in his chamber, and seen the first kiss that the princess gave him, and having made some pretext to gain a holiday, had gone to the king, who was hunting near, and betrayed the whole matter to him.

“And one of my gentlemen,” he continued, “has ridden here to tell me.  In an hour the guards will be here, and if the king catches you, my lord, you will hang, as sure as I live.”

The princess turned very pale, but Monsieur de Merosailles said, haughtily, “I ask your pardon, sir, but the king dares not hang me, for I am a gentleman and a subject of the king of France.”

“Man, man!” cried Rudolf.  “The Lion will hang you first and think of all that afterward!  Come, now, it is dusk.  You shall dress yourself as my groom, and I will ride to the frontier, and you shall ride behind me, and thus you may get safe away.  I cannot have you hanged over such a trifle.”