“Nay; I believe not that,” Elise cried, looking straight at him with flashing eyes. “Ne’er knew I my father, but ’twere not in any father’s heart, my lord, to will so dreadful a thing for his daughter. Not so will I dishonor that brave nobleman’s memory as to believe that this was his will for me!” The baron sprang up, dashing the parchments aside. “Heed thy words, girl!” he roared. “Thy father’s will or not thy father’s will, thou’lt wed my nephew on to-morrow’s morrow!” “Nay; that will I not!” The fair face was lifted and the small hands clasped each other in their slender strength. The baron laughed softly in his beard, a laugh not pleasant to hear. “In sooth,” he said, “’tis a tilt of precious web, the ‘will not’ of a maid, but naught so good a wedding garment as that thou’lt need to find ’tween now and then.” Elise came a step nearer, with a gesture of pleading. “My lord,” she said, with earnest dignity, “ye cannot mean it! I am a poor, helpless maiden, with nor father nor brother to fend for me. Never can ye mean to do me this wrong.” “’Tis needful, girl,” the baron said, keeping his eyes lowered; “this is no time for thee to be unwed. Thou must have a legal protector other than I. Only a husband can hold thy property from the emperor’s greed—and perhaps save thee from eviler straits.” “Nay; who cares for the wretched stuff?” cried she, impatiently. “Ah, my lord, let it go! Take it, all of it, an ye will, and let me enter a convent—rather than this.” But for this the baron had no mind. Already had he turned his ward’s property to his own use, and her marriage with Conradt was planned but that he might hide his theft from the knowledge of others. Well knew he how stern an accounting of his guardianship Mother Church would demand, did Elise enter her shelter; but he only said: “Thou art not of age. Thou canst not take so grave a step. The law will not let thee consent.” “Then how may I consent to this other?” “To this I consent for thee, minx. Let that suffice, and go about thy preparations.” “I cannot! I cannot! Oh, Herr Baron, dost thou not fear God? As he lives, I will never do this thing!” Then the baron gripped her by the arm. “Now, miss,” he said, his face close to hers, “enough of folly. Yet am I master at the Swartzburg, and two days of grace have I granted thee; but a word more, and Father Franz shall make thee a bride this night an thy thieving cur of a bridegroom show his face in the castle. See, now; naught canst thou gain by thy stubborn unreason. I can have patience with a maid’s whims, but an thou triest me too greatly, it will go hard but that I shall find a way to break thy stubborn will. But what thinkest thou to do to hinder my will?” She was weeping silently, the great tears welling up unchecked and falling from her cheeks to the floor; but she answered proudly enough: “I can yet die, sir.” He released her arm and flung her from him.