les, hearing these words, sprang to his feet, and
came towards the bough until he was so close that he touched the green
leaves; and through them the eyes of Osra gleamed; and the sun's rays
struck on her eyes, and they danced in the sun, and her cheeks were
reddened by the same or some other cause. And the evening was very
still, and there seemed no sounds in the forest.

"I cannot believe that you forgive. The crime is so great," said he.

"It was great; yet I forgive."

"I cannot believe it," said he again, and he looked at the point of
his sword, and then he looked through the leaves at the princess.

"I can do no more than say that if you will live, I will forgive. And
we will forget."

"By Heaven, no!" he whispered. "If I must forget to be forgiven, then
I will remember and be unforgiven."

The faintest laugh reached him from among the foliage.

"Then I will forget, and you shall be forgiven," said she.

The marquis put up his hand and held a leaf aside, and he said again:

"I cannot believe myself forgiven. Is there no other token of
forgiveness?"

"Pray, my lord, do not put the leaves aside."

"I still must die, unless I have sure warrant of forgiveness."

"Ah, you try to make me think that!"

"By Heavens, it is true!" and again he pointed his sword at his heart,
and he swore on his honor that unless she gave him a token he would
still kill himself.

"Oh," said the princess, with great petulance, "I wish I had not
come!"

"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 o