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Meanwhile the hunchback had come limping up, and he lifted the guitar, which Emanuela had dropped on the ground, making many smiling reverences to Euchar, supposing that he had been exceedingly generous to the girl, from the motion with which she had thanked him. "Scoundrel miscreant!" growled Ludwig. The man started in alarm, and said, in a lamentable tone, "Ah, sir, why are you so angry?
And they both hurried off, Cubas continuing to make various odd reverences, and Emanuela fixing upon Euchar the most soul-full gaze of which her beautiful eyes were capable. When the strange couple were lost among the trees, Euchar said, "You must see, do you not, that you were in much too great a hurry to condemn that little cobold in your own mind? He has a touch or so of the gypsy about him.
"That would be delightful!" sounded from all sides; and Euchar had to promise that he would be present with the matter necessary for the completing of his story. As they were going home Ludwig could not say enough on the subject of Victorine's passion for him, bordering, as it seemed to do, on insanity.
Her enthusiastic delivery of these lines waxed in fervour as she went on, her voice swelled into greater power, the chords of the instrument clanged louder and louder. When she came to the Strophe, which speaks of the liberation of the Fatherland, she fixed her beaming eyes on Euchar, a river of tears rushed down her cheeks, and she fell on her knees.
"All the same," he said, "that jealousy of hers has had the effect of enabling me to read my own heart clearly. And I have read there that my love for Emanuela is a thing unutterable. I am going to find her out, declare my passionate adoration for her and clasp her to my heart." "Exactly, my dear child," said Euchar imperturbably. "That is, of course, the proper thing for you to do."
Presently he said to Euchar, who had been interesting himself in a book which he had taken up. "You had an invitation to that accursed ball yourself, had you not?" "I had," said Euchar, scarcely looking up from the page. "And you never came and you never told me that you had one, at all."
"And that horrible ruffian there," Ludwig went on, "where did he steal you from? How did you get into his clutches, poor thing?" The girl lifted her eyes, and sending a beaming, serious glance through and through Ludwig, replied. "I don't understand you, sir. I don't know what you mean why you ask me this?" "You are a Spaniard, my child," Euchar began. "I am," she answered, her voice trembling.
Consequently Euchar was not understood by the general crowd was considered unimpressionable, cold, incapable of the due degree of ecstasy on the subject of the newest tragedy at the theatre and was stigmatized as a prosaic creature.
If I could only have a talk with her, the little charmer!" "Nothing is easier than that," said Euchar, and he signed to her to come near. The girl put the instrument down, came near, and made a reverence, casting her eyes modestly on the ground. "Mignon!" cried Ludwig. "Mignon! Sweet, beautiful creature!" "I am called Emanuela," she said.
"Good Cochenille!" Ludwig called out to him. "Dearest Monsieur Cochenille, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Euchar, declaring that important engagements called him away, left his friend alone with the confidential servant of Count Walther Puck.
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