The men were furious--she was a pet with them; and she would not say who had done it, though she knew twenty swords would have beaten him flat as a fritter if she had given his name.

I got her to sit to me some days after.

I pleased her with her own picture.

I asked her to tell me why she would not say who had ill-treated her.

She put her head on one side like a robin, and told me, in a whisper: 'It was one of my comrades--because I would not steal for him.