ot, Lady Ysolinde," I answered, at last. "The love of the maid
hath so grown into my heart that I cannot root it out at a word. It is
here, and it fills all my life!"

Again she interrupted me.

"See," she said, speaking quickly and eagerly, "they tell me this your
Helene is an angel of mercy to the sick. If she is spared she will be
content to give her life to works of good intent among the poor. This
cannot be life and death to her as it is to me. Her love is not as the
love of a woman like Ysolinde. It is not for any one man to possess in
monopoly. Though you may deceive yourself and think that it will be fixed
and centred on you. But she will never love you as I love you. See, I
would knee to you, pray to you on my knees, make myself a suppliant--I,
Ysolinde that am a princess! With you, Hugo, I have no pride, no shame. I
would take your love by violence, as a strong man surpriseth and taketh
the heart of a maid."

She was now all trembling and distract, her lips red, her eyes bright,
her hands clasped and trembling as they were strained palm to palm.

"Lady Ysolinde, I would that this were not so," I began.

A new quick spasm passed over her face. I think it came across her that
my heart was wavering. "God knows that I, Hugo Gottfried, am not worth
all this!"

"Nay," she said, with a kind of joy in her voice and in her eyes, "that
matters not. Ysolinde of Plassenburg is as a child that must have its toy
or die. Worthiness has no more to do with love than creeds and dogmas.
Love me--Hugo--love me even a little. Put me not away. I will be so true,
so willing. I will run your errands, wait on you, stand behind you in
battle, in council lead you to fame and great glory. For you, Hugo, I
will watch the faces of others, detect your enemies, unite your
well-wishers, mark the failing favor of your friends. What heart so
strong, what eye so keen as mine--for the greater the love the sharper
the eye to mark, prevent, countermine. And this maid, so cold and icy, so
full of good works and the abounding fame of saintliness, let her live
for the healing of the people, for the love of God and man both, and it
liketh her. She shall be abbess of our greatest convent. She shall indeed
be the Saint Helena of the North. Even now I will save her from death and
give her refuge. I promise it. I have the power in my hands. Only do you,
Hugo Gottfried, give me your love, your life, yourself!"

She was standing before me now, and had