When I re-entered the house, the old man came to the door of the inner chamber, and making a sweeping bow, addressed me in French, signifying that his daughter wished to have speech with me. I returned his bow, and followed into the room, where the lady lay, a little colour now in her cheeks, and in her eyes a mirthful light. I thought I had never seen woman half so lovely, and I think so still. "Be seated, sir, if you please," she said. "I have yet to thank you for your courage and kindness." I interrupted her. "Are the wounds likely to be healed soon? Is there no peril of lameness, or enduring mischief?" I asked, half turning to her father. "My father has little English," said she. "Perhaps you speak French?" I shook my head; for, though I knew something of the tongue, I much preferred to converse through the charming interpreter. "To set your mind at rest," she continued, with a glance bright and warm as a sunbeam, "my father tells me that a few scars will be the worst consequences of what he calls my folly--and the barbarism of your countrymen." "Barbarism, assuredly," I answered; "but it is to be said for them that the fawn was their game, and they did not understand your behaviour. You ran great risk by defending it. Why did you not offer them money for it?" "Because the heart is quicker than the head." Then she added archly, "You were not much wiser. It did not occur to you to buy our safety. You were for fighting, one against fifty, with riding-whip against bludgeons and crossbows and guns." "Perhaps I was more foolish than valiant," said I. "Nay, I meant no flout," answered the lady, and her eyes were dewy as she looked at me. "The fat old fellow must have the praise for our deliverance," I said. "Not from me," smiled the lady. The gratitude she so expressed drove me to say, hoping to divert her mind-- "By this time, Mat will have brought your fawn." "How kind of you to take such pains! But _my_ fawn it is not, since your money purchased it from the hunters." "Honour me by acceptance of it, then." "A trifle additional to my life. With pleasure. I did not understand perfectly why the man would not take my coin. Said he not something of witchcraft?" "Only an idle word. The ruffian spoke in amazement that the fawn had taken refuge at your feet." "It was wonderful to me; the more so that I had never seen such a creature in my life. We have no deer in the Netherlands." "You are from the Netherlands?" "My father"--looking fondly and proudly toward the old man, who was deep in a book--"until three years ago, was not the least famous professor in the University of Leyden, the intimate friend of the great Oldenbarneveldt, and of the renowned Van Groot." "My good old tutor, Mr. Butharwick, will hasten to pay his respect to Doctor Goel. He calls Grotius the second and greater Erasmus, lamp-bearer of learning, the glory of Europe, and I know not what besides."