me a
moment, Barin."

Kaya's yellow curls were close to his ear and she whispered something.
She was standing behind his chair and, as she stooped to him, her hand
rested on his shoulder and trembled slightly: "Velasco," she said, in a
voice like a breath, "Come, I beseech you! You are playing with
danger, with death! They will surely suspect; ah, come!"

The gypsey tossed his head, like a young horse when some one is trying
to force the bit between his teeth; his chin stiffened and an obstinate
look came into his eyes. He brushed her aside: "No," he murmured, "Go
away, Kaya! He is a stupid fool, can't you see? I am not half
through; it is heavenly to hear him! Go--go! I want to tease him some
more; I tell you I will."

The younger gypsey sank back on the floor cross-legged, half hidden by
the chair and the form of Velasco. Her hands were still trembling and
she put them in the pockets of her jacket, trying to force her red lips
to a whistle; but no sound came through the arch. She heard the voice
of Velasco smooth, and wicked, and humble, just above her.

"There is a musician," he was saying, "Perhaps you have heard of him?
His name is Velasco."

"Bosh!" said Petrokoff in an angry tone, and then he blew his nose
loudly. "Velasco--bosh! He is only a trickster! There is a fad
nowadays among the ladies to run after him." He bowed to the three
ladies in turn mockingly, "My friends here tried to get tickets last
week in St. Petersburg, but the house was sold out. Bosh--I tell you!
I wouldn't cross the street to hear a virtuoso like that!"

The gypsey gave a queer sound like a chuckle: "He does not play as you
do, of course, Barin!"

"I!" cried Petrokoff. He twirled his mustache fiercely. "The Russians
are like children, they run after every new plaything. The Pole is a
new plaything, a toy--bah! I have been before the public twenty-five
years. I am an artist; I am one of the old School. I--"

"Go away, Kaya!" whispered Velasco, "This is grand! I haven't enjoyed
myself so much for an age. Go away, little one; don't be frightened.
It is all right, only don't cough too much, or the ladies will see you
are laughing.

"Ah, Velasco, come--come!"

"Go away, child! He is opening his mouth again, the fat monster!
Watch the 'I' leap out! If he plays again I shall die in a fit; he
handles the bow like the fin of a shark. Be still, Kaya--go!"

"Velasco--listen, won't you listen? The ladies--ah,