“Certainly, with the greatest pleasure,” answered Will, and a smile broke over his face which proved that such a state of affairs would give him great gratification.  His stupidity and obtuseness had disappeared, he felt he was a hero and deliverer, and was very well satisfied with himself.  Marietta looked up at him in speechless surprise.

“But it is terrible that all this should happen on my account,” she remonstrated.  “And that it should be you, of all men.”

The last remark did not please the young man.

“You evidently regret that, Fraeulein,” he said rather stiffly.  “But under such circumstances you cannot always have what you want.  I was near by, and you were forced to accept my services even though I do not stand very well in your esteem.”

A flush crossed Marietta’s face as she remembered the time when she had poured the vials of her wrath and contempt over this man who now came to her rescue so bravely.

“I was thinking of Toni and her father,” she answered softly.  “I am altogether blameless, but if I should be the cause of tearing you from your bride—­”

“Then Toni would have to accept it as an intervention of Providence,” answered Willibald, upon whom the mention of his betrothed seemed to make no impression.  “One can but lose his life once, and there is no use looking on the worst side, either.  Where shall I take you, Fraeulein?  To Park street?  I think I heard you lived on that street.”

She shook her head violently.

“No, no; I cannot walk, I shall call a carriage; there are some over there.  I had meant to go to Professor Marani, to practice a new part, but I cannot sing now.”

Willibald turned his steps in the direction where the carriages were standing, and they went on in silence until they came near them.  Marietta stopped then, and turning to her escort, said anxiously: 

“Herr von Eschenhagen, must it be?  Can nothing be done?”

“Well, hardly.  I knocked the count down, and called him a low scoundrel, and most fellows would regard that as sufficient grounds for a duel.  But, don’t you worry about it.  The whole affair will be over to-morrow or next day, with only a couple of scratches to tell the tale, in all probability.”

“And I shall have to wait two or three days in anxiety and uncertainty.  Cannot you send me some news?”

Will looked down into the dark, tearful eyes, and a light came in his own such as had gleamed from them on the first day he saw the little “singing bird.”

“When all is happily over, I’ll come myself and bring you the news if I may?”

“Certainly, certainly.  But if it should end unfortunately, if you should fall?”

“Then hold me in kinder remembrance than you have done hitherto,” said Willibald, earnestly and cordially.  “You took me for a coward.  O, don’t say a word, you were right; I have felt it bitterly enough, but I was accustomed always to obey my mother, who I knew loved me devotedly.  But now you see that I know also how a man should behave when he sees a defenseless girl insulted, and I will avenge that insult—­if need be with my blood.”