hrough by the electric warmth of
her body, and yet, amidst it all, a cold mysterious shudder thrilled
through him like the breathing of death. For the first time he thought
that he saw something singular and lifeless deeply seated in her eyes,
while the tone of her voice, nay even the rustling of her dress,
betrayed a strange being, who was never to be trusted. It fell heavily
upon his heart, that, when she had spoken her real thoughts, she had
been in this same silver tissue; he knew not why he should fancy any
thing menacing in it, and yet the idea of this dress was intimately
blended with that of the supernatural, as a dream unites the most
heterogeneous things, and all passes for absurd, the deeper connexion
of which we are unable to comprehend.

Far from wounding the fair-one with a suspicion which was perhaps
false, Peregrine violently suppressed his feelings, and only waited for
a favourable opportunity of freeing himself and escaping from the snake
of Paradise. At last Doertje said,

"How is it, my sweet friend, you seem so cold and insensible to-day?
What have you got in your head, my life?"

"I have a headache," replied Peregrine, as indifferently as he was
able.--"Headache!--whims!--megrims!--nothing else, my sweet child. I
must go into the open air, and all will be over in a few minutes.
Besides, I am called away by a particular business."

"It is all invention!" exclaimed Gamaheh, starting up hastily.--"But
you are a malicious monkey, that must be tamed."

Peregrine was glad when he found himself in the open street; but as to
Master Flea, he was quite extravagant in his joy, tittering and
laughing incessantly in Peregrine's neckcloth, and clapping together
his fore-paws till they rang again. This merriment of his little
protege was somewhat troublesome to Mr. Tyss, as it disturbed him in
his meditations, and he begged of him to be quiet, for many grave
people had already glanced at him with looks of reproach, fancying it
was he who tittered and laughed, and played such foolish pranks in the
open streets.

"Fool that I was!" exclaimed Master Flea, persisting in the ebullitions
of his extravagant joy--"Fool that I was to doubt of the victory where
no battle was needed. Why, you had conquered in the moment, when even
the death of your beloved could not shake your resolution. Let me
shout, let me rejoice, for all must deceive me, if a bright morning-sun
do not soon arise, which will clear up every myster