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Updated: June 20, 2025
"She's always flinging out at me, whatever I do," thought Margarita. "I know one thing; I'll never tell her what the Senorita's told me; never, not till after she's gone." A sudden suspicion flashed into Margarita's mind. She seated herself on the bench outside the kitchen door, to wrestle with it. What if it were not to a convent at all, but to Alessandro, that the Senorita meant to go!
A clandestine affair, an intrigue of more or less intensity, such as she herself might have carried on with any one of the shepherds, this was the utmost stretch of Margarita's angry imaginations in regard to her young mistress's liking for Alessandro. There was not, in her way of looking at things, any impossibility of such a thing as that. But marriage!
"A man should not be rude to any maiden," he thought; and he hated to remember how he had pushed Margarita from him, and snatched his hand away, when he had in the outset made no objection to her taking it. But Margarita's resentment was not to be appeased. She understood only too clearly how little Alessandro's gentle advances meant, and she would none of them.
The white linen altar-cloth, the cloth which the Senora Moreno had with her own hands made into one solid front of beautiful lace of the Mexican fashion, by drawing out part of the threads and sewing the remainder into intricate patterns, the cloth which had always been on the altar, when mass was said, since Margarita's and Ramona's earliest recollections, there it lay, torn, stained, as if it had been dragged through muddy brambles.
Batata's people will obey my wishes in everything." I shook my head, smiling somewhat sorrowfully when I thought that the events of the last few days had already half obliterated Margarita's fair image from my mind.
That done, Aunt Lisbeth helped undress the White Rose, and trembled, and told a sad nuptial anecdote of the Castle, and put her little shrivelled hand on Margarita's heart, and shrieked. 'Child! it gallops! she cried. ''Tis happiness, said Margarita, standing in her hair. 'May it last only! exclaimed Aunt Lisbeth. 'It will, aunty!
She had decided, after some reflection, that she would not speak to the Senora about Margarita's having been under the willows with Alessandro in the previous evening, but would watch her carefully and see whether there were any farther signs of her attempting to have clandestine interviews with him.
Between Margarita's society and Farina's, there was little dispute in the captain's mind which choice to make. Farina was allowed to travel single to Cologne; and Dietrich, petted by Margarita, and gently jeered by Guy, headed the Club from Laach waters to the castle of the Robber Baron. Monk Gregory was pacing the high road between the Imperial camp and suffering Cologne.
Thereat she flung back to her companions, and began staining her pretty mouth with grapes anew. Fair maids will have their hero in history. Siegfried was Margarita's chosen. She sang of Siegfried all over the house. 'O the old days of Germany, when such a hero walked! she sang. 'And who wins Margarita, mused Farina, 'happier than Siegfried, has in his arms Brunhild and Chrimhild together!
Werner's men were well content to let their master fight it out. The words spoken by Henker Rothhals, that the Devil had forsaken him, seemed in their minds confirmed by the weird song which every one present could swear he heard with his ears. 'Let him take his chance, and try his own luck, they said, and shrugged. The battle was between Guy, as Margarita's champion, and Werner.
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