"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 cannot do 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 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 heaven, it is true!" And again he pointed his sword at his heart, and he swore on his honour 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 – "
"Sheathe 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. "Madame, is there no token of forgiveness?"
In the silence that followed his eyes spoke, at last she said:
"Why did you swear on your honour?"
"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 M. de Mérosailles. And he laughed loudly 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 of the Tree of Life," said M. de Mérosailles.
"I wish some one would set me on my horse," said Osra.
"That you may ride back to the castle – alone?"
"Yes, unless you would relieve my brother's anxiety."
"It would be courteous to do that much," said the Marquis.
So they mounted, and rode back through the forest.
In an hour the Princess had come, and in the space of something over two hours they returned; yet during all this time they spoke hardly a word: and although the sun was now set, yet the glow remained on the face and in the eyes of Princess Osra; while M. de Mérosailles, being forgiven, rode with a smile on his lips.
But when they came to the castle, Prince Rudolf ran out to meet them, and he cried almost before he reached them:
"Hasten, hasten! There is not a moment to lose, if the Marquis values life or liberty!" And when he came to them he told them that a waiting-woman had been false to M. de Mérosailles and, after taking his money, had hid herself in his chamber, and seen the first kiss that the Princess gave him, and, having made some pretext to gain a holiday, had gone to the King, who was hunting near, and betrayed the whole matter to him.
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