convulsively clasping her to her bosom, reproached her for having so
long, to her hurt, kept such a secret. But, like the fabled
Arethusa, her tears, as from a fountain, flowed more abundantly, and
her sobs increased at my approach.

"And so," said the ranger fiercely, "you have not scrupled, with
unparalleled shamelessness, to deceive both her and me; and you
pretended to love her, forsooth--her whom you have reduced to the
state in which you now see her. See how she weeps!--Oh, shocking,
shocking!"

By this time I had lost all presence of mind; and I answered,
confusedly, "After all, it is but a shadow, a mere shadow, which a
man can do very well without; and really it is not worth the while
to make all this noise about such a trifle." Feeling the
groundlessness of what I was saying, I ceased, and no one
condescended to reply. At last I added, "What is lost to-day may be
found to-morrow."

"Be pleased, sir," continued the ranger, in great wrath--"be pleased
to explain how you have lost your shadow."

Here again an excuse was ready: "A boor of a fellow," said I, "one
day trod so rudely on my shadow that he tore a large hole in it. I
sent it to be repaired--for gold can do wonders--and yesterday I
expected it home again."

"Very well," answered the ranger. "You are a suitor for my
daughter's hand, and so are others. As a father, I am bound to
provide for her. I will give you three days to seek your shadow.