le distance from the castle, Warbeck turned
round, and taking Leoline's hand gently, said,--

"Let us rest here for one moment, dearest cousin; I have much on my
heart to say to thee."

"And what is there," answered Leoline, as they sat on a mossy bank,
with the broad Rhine glancing below, "what is there that my kind Warbeck
would ask of me? Ah, would it might be some favour, something in poor
Leoline's power to grant; for ever from my birth you have been to me
most tender, most kind. You, I have often heard them say; taught my
first steps to walk; you formed my infant lips into language, and, in
after years, when my wild cousin was far away in the forests at the
chase, you would brave his gay jest and remain at home, lest Leoline
should be weary in the solitude. Ah, would I could repay you!"

Warbeck turned away his cheek; his heart was very full, and it was some
moments before he summoned courage to reply.

"My fair cousin," said he, "those were happy days; but they were the
days of childhood. New cares and new thoughts have now come on us; but
I am still thy friend, Leoline, and still thou wilt confide in me thy
young sorrows and thy young hopes, as thou ever didst. Wilt thou not,
Leoline?"

"Canst thou ask me?" said Leoline; and Warbeck, gazing on her face, saw
that though her eyes were full of tears, they yet looked steadily upon
his; and he knew that she loved him only as a sister.

He sighed, and paused again ere he resumed. "Enough," said he; "now to
my task. Once on a time, dear cousin, there lived among these mountains
a certain chief who had two sons, and an orphan like thyself dwelt also
in his halls. And the elder son--but no matter, let us not waste words
on _him_!--the younger son, then, loved the orphan dearly,--more dearly
than cousins love; and fearful of refusal, he prayed the elder one to
urge his suit to the orphan. Leoline, my tale is done. Canst thou not
love Otho as he loves thee?"

And now lifting his eyes to Leoline, he saw that she trembled violently,
and her cheek was covered with blushes.

"Say," continued he, mastering himself, "is not that flower
his--present--a token that he is chiefly in thy thoughts?"

"Ah, Warbeck! do not deem me ungrateful that I wear not yours also;
but--"

"Hush!" said Warbeck, hastily; "I am but as thy brother; is not Otho
more? He is young, brave, and beautiful. God grant that he may deserve
thee, if thou givest him so rich a gift as thy affections!"