"Aye," said I, braving her anger, "but what security shall we have?"
"His word of honour, my lord." I knew that a rebuke to my presumption lay in her calling me "my lord," for, save on formal occasions, she always used to call me Fritz.
"His word of honour!" I grumbled. "In truth, madame"
"He's right," said Rischenheim: "he's right."
"No, he's wrong," said the Queen, smiling. "The Count will keep his word, given to me."
Rischenheim looked at her and seemed about to address her, but then he turned to me and said in a low tone:
"By heaven, I will, Tarlenheim. I'll serve her in everything."
"My lord," said she most graciously, and yet most sadly, "you lighten the burden on me no less by your help than because I no longer feel your honour stained through me. Come, we will go to the palace." And she went to him, saying, "We will go together."
There was nothing for it but to trust him. I knew that I could not turn her.
"Then I'll see if the carriage is ready," said I.
"Yes, do, Fritz," said the Queen. But as I passed she stopped me for a moment, saying in a whisper, "Show that you trust him."
