I never thanked you for all you did, you brave Peter, though I thanked you enough in my heart.

Do you know that when you stood there with that sword, in the middle of those Englishmen, you looked quite noble?
Come out into the sunlight, and I will thank you properly." In his agitation Peter let the remainder of the flowers fall.

Then an idea struck him, and he answered: "Look! I can't; if you are really grateful for nothing at all, come in here and help me to pick up these violets--a pest on their short stalks!" She hesitated a little, then by degrees drew nearer, and, bending down, began to find the flowers one by one.

Peter had scattered them wide, so that at first the pair were some way apart, but when only a few remained, they drew close.

Now there was but one violet left, and, both stretching for it, their hands met.