ler, peering; and the
door opened wider. "There is something black across the sill; it is
lying over the geraniums and crushing them, and it looks like a woman!
Jesus--Maria!"

He took a step forward, staring: "It is the Fraeulein, and she is--"

"Get out of the way, you fool!" cried the Kapellmeister sharply, and he
pushed the man back and strode forward: "The child has fainted! She
lies here with her head on her arms, and her cheek is white as the moon
itself."

He lifted her gently and put his arm under her shoulders, supporting
her: "Get some Kirsch at once," he cried to the miller, "Stop gaping,
man! She's not dead I tell you--her heart flutters and the pulse in
her wrist is throbbing!" He slipped his hand in his pocket, and tossed
the miller a gulden. "Now run," he said, "run as if the devil were
after you. The Rathskeller is only a square away! Brandy and
food--food, do you hear?"

The old man caught the gulden greedily between his fingers, and
examined it for a moment, weighing it. "I will go," he mumbled,
"certainly I will go. Kirsch--you say, sir, and bread perhaps?"

"Be off, you fool!"

The Kapellmeister watched the door grimly as it shut behind the miller,
and then he glanced about the garret. "Poor," he said, "Humph! A
place for a beggar!" His eyes roved from the pallet in the corner to
the pitcher and the basin, the clothes on the pegs, the cobwebs
hanging, the geraniums crushed on the sill.

Then he lifted the girl's head and held it between his hands, looking
down at her face, supporting her in his arms. The lashes lay heavy on
her cheeks and the tendrils of hair, curly and golden, lay on her neck
and her forehead. Her throat was bare; it was white and full. The
Kapellmeister held her gently and a film came over his eyes as he gazed:

"How young she is!" he murmured, "like some beautiful boy. Her chin is
firm--there is will power there. Her brows are intelligent; her whole
personality is one of feeling and temperament. It is a face in a
thousand. What is her name, her history? How has she suffered? Why
is she alone? There are lines of pain about the mouth--the eyes!"

He raised her suddenly in his arms and started to his feet; and as he
did so, she opened her lids slowly and gazed at him. "Velasco--" she
murmured.

Her voice was low and feeble, and the Kapellmeister bent his head
lower: "What is it, child?" he said, "I can't hear you. In a moment
you will have some b