After his repeated summons, the lady of the mansion, with pompous formality, appeared at the window, like the warder of a fortress holding a parley at the outpost. In a gay spirit of bantering, she declared that the military uniform became him exceedingly, and begged to know what rank he held in the army. Our hero parried these home-thrusts but with an ordinary degree of grace, and, in a bowed spirit, entreated admission to the inner walls. The lady Joan was quite peremptory in her refusal, declaring, that having lately heard so much to his disadvantage, she had decided on breaking off all future acquaintance with him as a lover; “especially,” added she, “as, instead of the witty person I thought you, I find you quite a dull animal, that any school-girl might outwit.”
Here she indulged in a provoking laugh, and bade him “good bye,” as she turned to close the window.
“Nay then,” said Twm in a desponding key, “if we are indeed to be henceforth strangers, as we have been friends, true and warm friends, you will give me your hand, at least, in parting.” She slowly stretched out her hand through the window, and our hero, with the eager spring of a hungry tiger, darted forward, grasped her wrist with his left hand, and drawing his sword with the right, exclaimed in a tone of affected fury, “Revenge at least is left me—by yon blessed sky above us, I’ll be trifled with no longer—off goes your hand unless you consent to our union this instant, and on this very spot.”
“Lord! don’t squeeze so hard and look so fierce,” cried the lady of Ystrad Feen.
Twm, with increased boisterousness, resumed, “On your answer will depend, whether, for the remainder of your life, you have a single hand or a pair of them—for on the pronouncing of a negative, this hand, this soft white hand, beautiful as it is, will instantly fly, severed from the wrist; and only think now, my gentle lady Joan, how dreadful you would look with a stump.”
Twm looked determined enough, and what could a lady do in respectable society with only one hand? The idea was preposterous. In her vexation, she stretched her pretty neck out, and endeavoured to make her tormentor relax his grasp by inflicting a bite on the back of his hand. Twm seized this opportunity of imprinting a very decisive kiss on her check, on which she drew back her head, her face glowing radiantly with blushes.