"Does the water burn?" she said, and quickened her steps. To her surprise she saw that Harding's forge was busy; the light she had seen sprang from it. She had expected to find it locked and silent, but now the little space it held in the night was lit with fire and resounded with the stroke of the Red Smith's hammer. Proud Rosalind stood fast as though he were fashioning a spell to chain her eyes. And so he was, for he hammered on a sword. He did not turn his head at her approach; but when at last she stood beside his door, and did not move away, he spoke to her. "You walk late," said he. "May not people walk late," said she, "as well as work late?" Without answering he set himself to his task again and heeded her no more. "Smith!" she cried imperiously. "What then?" "I came to speak with you." "Even so?" She barely heard the words for the din of his great hammer. "You are unmannerly, Smith." "Speak then," said he, dropping his tools, "and never forget, maid, that it is not I invited this encounter." At that she cried out hotly, "Does not your shop invite trade?" "Ay; but what's that to you?" "My only purpose in talking with you," she said in a flame of wrath. "I require what you have, but I would rather buy it of any man than you." "What do you require?" "That!" She pointed to the sword. "I cannot sell it. It is a young knight's blade I am mending against the jousting." "Have you no other?" "You cannot give me my price," said the Red Smith. She took from her girdle the little purse containing all her store. "Do you think I am here to bargain? There's more than your price." "However much it be," said Harding, "it is too little." "Then say no more that I cannot buy of you, but rather that you will not sell to me." "And yet that is as the Proud Rosalind shall please." She flushed deeply, and as though in shame of seeming ashamed said firmly, "No, Smith, it is not in my hands. For I have offered you every penny I possess." "I do not ask for pence." Harding left his anvil and stepped outside and stood close, gazing hard upon her face. "You have a thing I will take in exchange for my sword, a very simple thing. Women part with it most lightly, I have learned. The loveliest hold it cheap at the price of a golden gawd. How easily then will you barter it for an inch or so of steel!" "What need of so many words?" she said with a scornful lip, that quivered in her own despite at his nearness. "Name the thing you want." "A kiss from your mouth, Proud Rosalind." It was as though the request had turned her into ice. When she could speak she said, "Smith, for your inch of steel you have asked what I would not part with to ransom my soul." She turned and left him and Harding went back to his work and laughed softly in his beard. "Dream on, my gold queen up yonder," said he, and blew on his waning fires. "You are not the metal I work in," said he, and the river rang again to his hammer on the steel.