ty and ceremony, indeed
so great as to verge on the absurd, "you are turned off. If on a slight
acquaintance I might advise, I'd say, since you are a servant no more,
be a mistress, a queen."

"Easier said than done," replied Reicht bluntly.

"Not a jot. You see here one who is a man, though but half an
arbalestrier, owing to that devilish Englishman's arrow, in whose
carcass I have, however, left a like token, which is a comfort. I have
twenty gold pieces" (he showed them) "and a stout arm. In another
week or so I shall have twain. Marriage is not a habit of mine; but
I capitulate to so many virtues. You are beautiful, good-hearted, and
outspoken, and above all, you take the part of my she-comrade. Be then
an arbalestriesse!"

"And what the dickens is that?" inquired Reicht.

"I mean, be the wife, mistress, and queen of Denys of Burgundy here
present."

A dead silence fell on all.

It did not last long, though; and was followed by a burst of
unreasonable indignation.

Catherine. "Well, did you ever?"

Margaret. "Never in all my born days."

Catherine. "Before our very faces."

Margaret. "Of all the absurdity, and insolence of this ridiculous sex--"

Then Denys observed somewhat drily, that the female to whom he had
addressed himself was mute; and the others, on whose eloquence there was
no immediate demand, were fluent: on this the voices stopped, and the
eyes turned pivot-like upon Reicht.

She took a sly glance from under her lashes at her military assailant,
and said, "I mean to take a good look at any man ere I leap into his
arms."

Denys drew himself up majestically. "Then look your fill, and leap
away."

This proposal led to a new and most unexpected result. A long white
finger was extended by the Van Eyck in a line with the speaker's eye,
and an agitated voice bade him stand, in the name of all the saints.
"You are beautiful, so," cried she. "You are inspired--with folly. What
matters that? you are inspired. I must take off your head." And in a
moment she was at work with her pencil. "Come out, hussy," she screamed
to Reicht, "more in front of him, and keep the fool inspired and
beautiful. Oh, why had I not this maniac for my good centurion? They
went and brought me a brute with a low forehead and a shapeless beard."

Catherine stood and looked with utter amazement at this pantomime,
and secretly resolved that her venerable hostess had been a disguised
lunatic all this time, and was now busy