the United States. Hereafter
that country will continue to remain good enough for me."

All applauded--all except Jacqueline, who looked around in
astonishment at the proceedings, and only smiled when Speed explained
in French.

"Ask maddermoselle if she'll go home with us?" prompted Byram. "Tell
her there's millions in it."

Speed put the question; Jacqueline listened gravely, hesitated, then
whispered to Speed, who reddened a trifle and laughed.

Everybody waited for a moment. "What does she say?" inquired Byram.

"Oh, nothing; she talked nonsense."

But Jacqueline's dignity and serene face certainly contradicted
Speed's words.

Presently Byram arose, flourishing his napkin. "Time's up!" he said,
with decision, and we all trooped off to our appointed labors.

Now that I had stirred up this beehive and set it swarming again, I
had no inclination to turn drone. Yet I remembered my note to the
Countess de Vassart and her reply. So about four o'clock I made the
best toilet I could in my only other suit of clothes, and walked out
of the bustling camp into the square, where the mossy fountain
splashed under the oaks and the children of Paradise were playing.
Hands joined, they danced in a ring, singing:

"_Barzig ha barzig a Goneri
Ari e mab roue gand daou pe dri_"--

"Little minstrel-bard of Coneri
The son of the King has come with two or three--
Nay, with a whole bright flock of paroquets,
Crimson, silver, and violet."

And the children, in their white coiffes and tiny wooden shoes, moved
round and round the circle, in the middle of which a little lad and a
little lass of Paradise stood motionless, hand clasping hand.

The couplet ended, the two children in the middle sprang forward and
dragged a third child out of the circle. Then the song began again,
the reduced circle dancing around the three children in the middle.

"--The son of the King has come with two or three--
Nay, with a whole bright flock of paroquets,
Crimson, silver, and violet."

It was something like a game I had played long ago--in the age of
fable--and I lingered, touched with homesickness.

The three children in the middle took a fourth comrade from the
circle, crying, "Will you go to the moon or will you go to the
stars?"

"The moon," lisped the little maid, and she was led over to the
fountain.

"The stars," said the first prisoner,