word
to any man."

As a result, in the late afternoon a dray load of beer kegs
appeared at Paulina's back door, to the unspeakable relief of
Jacob and of his guests as well, who had begun to share his
anxiety and to look forward to an evening of drouth and gloom.

As for Simon Ketzel, he found himself at once upon the very crest of
a wave of popularity, for through the driver of the dray it became
known that it was Simon that had come so splendidly to the rescue.

Relieved of anxiety, the revellers gave themselves with fresh and
reckless zest to the duty of assuring beyond all shadow of doubt,
the good health of the bride and the groom, and of every one in
general in flowing mugs of beer. Throughout the afternoon, men and
women, and even boys and girls, ate and drank, danced and sang to
the limit of their ability.

As the evening darkened, and while this carouse was at its height,
Paulina, with a shawl over her head, slipped out of the house and
through the crowd, and so on to the outskirts of the colony, where
she found her husband impatiently waiting her.

"You are late," he said harshly.

"I could not find Kalman."

"Kalman! My boy! And where would he be?" exclaimed her husband with
a shade of anxiety in his voice.

"He was with me in the house. I could not keep him from the men,
and they will give him beer."

"Beer to that child?" snarled her husband.

"Yes, they make him sing and dance, and they give him beer.
He is wonderful," said Paulina.

Even as she spoke, a boy's voice rose clear and full in a Hungarian
love song, to the wild accompaniment of the cymbal.

"Hush!" said the man holding up his hand.

At the first sound of that high, clear voice, the bacchanalian
shoutings and roarings fell silent, and the wild weird song,
throbbing with passion, rose and fell upon the still evening air.
After each verse, the whole chorus of deep, harsh voices swelled
high over the wailing violins and Arnud's clanging cymbal.

"Good," muttered the man when the song had ceased. "Now get him."

"I shall bring him to yonder house," said Paulina, pointing to the
dwelling of Mrs. Fitzpatrick, whither in a few minutes she was seen
half dragging, half carrying a boy of eight, who kept kicking and
scratching vigorously, and pouring forth a torrent of English oaths.

"Hush, Kalman," said Paulina in Galician, vainly trying to quiet
the child. "The gentleman will be ashamed of you."

"I do not care for any gentleman,"