"Not yet, Sir Norman. Be calm; talk rationally. What do you accuse me of
doing with Leoline?"
"Do you dare deny having carried her off?"
"Deny it? No; I am never afraid to father my own deeds."
"Ah!" said Sir Norman grinding his teeth. "Then you acknowledge it?"
"I acknowledge it--yes. What next?"
The perfect composure of his tone fell like a cool, damp towel on the
fire of Sir Norman's wrath. It did not quite extinguish the flame,
however--only quenched it a little--and it still hissed hotly
underneath.
"And you dare to stand before me and acknowledge such an act?" exclaimed
Sir Norman, perfectly astounded at the cool assurance of the man.
"Verily, yea," said the count, laughing. "I seldom take the trouble to
deny my acts. What next?"
"There is nothing next," said Sir Norman, severely, "until we have come
to a proper understanding about this. Are you aware, sir, that that lady
is my promised bride?"
"No, I do not know that I am. On the contrary, I have an idea she is
mine."
"She was, you mean. You know she was forced into consenting by yourself
and her nurse!"
"Still she consented; and a bond is a bond, and a promise a promise, all
the world over."
"Not with a woman," said Sir Norman, with stern dogmatism. "It is their
privilege to break their promise and change their mind sixty times an
hour, if they choose. Leoline has seen fit to do both, and has accepted
me in your stead; therefore I command you instantly to give her up!"
"Softly, my friend--softly. How was I to know all this?"
"You ought to have known it!" returned Sir Norman, in the same
dogmatical way; "or if you didn't, you do now; so say no more about it.
Where is she, I tell you?" repeated the young man, in a frenzy.
"Your patience one moment longer, until we see which of us has the best
right to the lady. I have a prior claim."
"A forced one. Leoline does not care a snap far you--and she loves me."
"What extraordinary bad taste!" raid the count, thoughtfully. "Did she
tell you that?"
"Yes; she did tell me this, and a great deal more. Come--have done
talking, and tell me where she is, or I'll--"
"Oh, no, you wouldn't!" said the count, teasingly. "Since matters stand
in this light I'll tell you what I'll do. I acknowledge that I carried
off Leoline, viewing her as my promised bride, and have sent her to my
own home in the care of a trusty messenger, where I give you my word of
honor, I have not been since. She is as safe there, and much safer than
in her own house, until morning, and it would be a pity to disturb her
at this unseasonable hour. When the morning comes, we will both go to
her together--state our rival claims--and whichever one she decides on
accepting, can have her, and end the matter at once."