llowed you!"

"On that point, my beauty, we don't agree. I ought not to despise you,
but to hate you."

The young girl looked at him in affright: "Hate me! what have I done?"

"For having required so much urging."

"Alas!" said she, "'tis because I am breaking a vow. I shall not find my
parents! The amulet will lose its virtue. But what matters it? What need
have I of father or mother now?"

So saying, she fixed upon the captain her great black eyes, moist with
joy and tenderness.

"Devil take me if I understand you!" exclaimed Phoebus. La Esmeralda
remained silent for a moment, then a tear dropped from her eyes, a sigh
from her lips, and she said,--"Oh! monseigneur, I love you."

Such a perfume of chastity, such a charm of virtue surrounded the young
girl, that Phoebus did not feel completely at his ease beside her. But
this remark emboldened him: "You love me!" he said with rapture, and he
threw his arm round the gypsy's waist. He had only been waiting for this
opportunity.

The priest saw it, and tested with the tip of his finger the point of a
poniard which he wore concealed in his breast.

"Phoebus," continued the Bohemian, gently releasing her waist from the
captain's tenacious hands, "You are good, you are generous, you are
handsome; you saved me, me who am only a poor child lost in Bohemia. I
had long been dreaming of an officer who should save my life. 'Twas of
you that I was dreaming, before I knew you, my Phoebus; the officer of
my dream had a beautiful uniform like yours, a grand look, a sword; your
name is Phoebus; 'tis a beautiful name. I love your name; I love your
sword. Draw your sword, Phoebus, that I may see it."

"Child!" said the captain, and he unsheathed his sword with a smile.

The gypsy looked at the hilt, the blade; examined the cipher on the
guard with adorable curiosity, and kissed the sword, saying,--

"You are the sword of a brave man. I love my captain." Phoebus again
profited by the opportunity to impress upon her beautiful bent neck a
kiss which made the young girl straighten herself up as scarlet as a
poppy. The priest gnashed his teeth over it in the dark.

"Phoebus," resumed the gypsy, "let me talk to you. Pray walk a little,
that I may see you at full height, and that I may hear your spurs
jingle. How handsome you are!"

The captain rose to please her, chiding her with a smile of
satisfaction,--

"What a child you are! By the way, my charmer, have you seen me in my