"Leoline! Leoline! you love me!" Leoline was silent.
"You are to decide between us, Leoline.

Though the count forcibly brought you here, he has been generous enough to grant this.

Say, then, which of as you love best." "I do not love him at all," said Leoline, with a little disdain, "and he knows it." "Then it is I!" said Sir Norman, him whole face beaming with delight.
"It is you!" Leoline held out both hands to the loved one, and nestled close to his side, like a child would to its protector.
"Fairly rejected!" said the count, with a pacing shade of mortification on his brow; "and, my word being pledged, I most submit.

But, beautiful Leoline, you have yet to learn whom you have discarded." Clinging to her lover's arm, the girl grew white with undefined apprehension.

Leisurely, the count removed false wig, false eyebrows, false beard; and a face well known to Leoline, from pictures and description, turned full upon her.
"Sire!" she cried, in terror, calling on her knees with clasped hands.
"Nay; rise, fair Leoline," said the king, holding out his hand to assist her.