The paddle came rattling down upon the bottom of the skiff.  Roland stooped, and before she knew what he was about, took Hilda in his arms, lifted her ashore, and laid her carefully on the grass.

“Come,” he cried to the newly-awakened serving-women, “tumble out of that without further delay,” and they obeyed him in haste.

He stepped into the skiff, flung their belongings on the sward, turned the prow to the west, and, leaping ashore, bestowed a kick upon the boat that impelled it like an arrow far out into the stream.

Hilda was standing on her feet now, speechless with indignation.

“Come along,” urged Roland cheerfully, “breakfast awaits us when we earn it;” but seeing that she made no move, the frown furrowed his brow again.

“Madam,” he said, “I tell you frankly that to be thwarted by petulance annoys me.  It happens that time is of the utmost importance until we are much farther from Pfalz.  If you think that the ownership of wealth and a castle gives you the right to flout a plain, ordinary man, you take a mistaken view of things.  I care nothing for your castle, or for your wealth.  You may be a lady of title for aught I know, but even that does not impress me.  We must not stand here like two quarrelsome children.  I will conduct you to the Adler Inn at St. Goarhausen, where I know from experience you will be taken care of.  I shall then purchase four horses, and return to the inn after you have breakfasted.  Three of these horses are at your disposal, also the fourth and myself, if you will condescend to make use of us.  If not, I shall ask you to accept what money you need for your journey, so that you may travel north unmolested, while I take my way in the other direction.”

“How can I repay the money,” she demanded, “if I do not know who and what you are?”

“I shall send for it, either to your Castle of Sayn, or the Convent of Nonnenwerth.  You need be under no obligation to me.”

“But,” cried the girl with a sob, “I am already under obligation to you; an obligation which I cannot repay.”

“Oh yes, you can.”

“How?”

“By coming with me, who will persuade you, as readily as you did with your guardian, who coerced you.”

“I am an ungrateful simpleton,” she murmured.  “Of course your way is the right one, and I am quite helpless if you desert me.”

“There,” cried Roland, with enthusiasm, “you have more than repaid whatever you may owe.”

After breakfasting at St. Goarhausen and purchasing the horses, they journeyed down the rough road that extended along the right bank of the Rhine.  Roland and Hilda rode side by side, the other two following some distance to the rear.  The young man maintained a gloomy silence, and the girl, misapprehending his thoughts, remained silent also, with downcast eyes, seeing nothing of the beautiful scenery they were passing.  Every now and then Roland cast a sidelong glance at her, and his melancholy deepened as he remembered how heedlessly he had pledged his word to the three Archbishops regarding his marriage.