top of the bank, they beheld Fritz and Ottilia some way off; he,
very black and bloodshot, emphasising his hoarse speech with the
smacking of his fist against his palm; she, standing a little way
off in blowsy, voluble distress.

'Dear me!' said Mr. Gottesheim, and made as if he would turn aside.

But Otto went straight towards the lovers, in whose dissension he
believed himself to have a share. And, indeed, as soon as he had
seen the Prince, Fritz had stood tragic, as if awaiting and defying
his approach.

'O, here you are!' he cried, as soon as they were near enough for
easy speech. 'You are a man at least, and must reply. What were
you after? Why were you two skulking in the bush? God!' he broke
out, turning again upon Ottilia, 'to think that I should waste my
heart on you!'

'I beg your pardon,' Otto cut in. 'You were addressing me. In
virtue of what circumstance am I to render you an account of this
young lady's conduct? Are you her father? her brother? her
husband?'

'O, sir, you know as well as I,' returned the peasant. 'We keep
company, she and I. I love her, and she is by way of loving me; but
all shall be above-board, I would have her to know. I have a good
pride of my own.'

'Why, I perceive I must explain to you what love is,' said Otto.
'Its measure is kindness. It is very possible that you are proud;