if after the heat and
splendour of a summer's day the calm of evening had fallen; the quiet
of the dusk, when the moon rises in the sky, still faintly yellow in the
west with the ebb of sunset, and pours on the stiff cornfields its cool,
silvery frost; and the trees quiver, as though they felt the freshness
and were relieved, and a breeze comes, almost imperceptible and not
strong enough to shake the boughs, from the sea; and a bird, hidden
somewhere in the leaves, sings a throbbing song.

"Everyone was spellbound, but none so much as Elisinde. The music seemed
to be speaking straight to her, to pierce the very core of her heart. It
was an inarticulate language which she understood better than any words.
She heard a lonely spirit crying out to her, that it understood her
sorrow and shared her pain. And large tears poured down her cheeks.

"The fiddler stopped playing, and for a moment or two no one spoke. At
last Elisinde's betrothed gave a great yawn, and the spell was broken.

"'You play very well--very well, indeed,' said the Count.

"'But that sad music is, I think, rather out of place to-day,' said the
Countess.

"'Yes, let us have another cheerful tune,' said the Count.

"The fiddler struck up once more and played another dance. This time
there was an almost elfish magic in his melody. It took you captive; it
was irresistible; it called and commanded and compelled; you longed to
follow, follow, anywhere, over the hills, over the sea, to the end of
the world.

"Elisinde rose from her chair as though the spirit of the music beckoned
her, but looking round she saw no partner to her taste. She sat down
again and stared at the fiddler. His eyes were fixed on her, and as she
looked at him his squalor and rags seemed to fade away and his blue eyes
that glittered like gold seemed to grow larger, and his hair to grow
brighter till it shone like fire. And he seemed to be caught in a rosy
cloud of light: tall, splendid, young, and glowing like a god.

"After this dance was over the Count rose, and he and his guests retired
to rest. The fiddler was given a purse full of money, and the Count gave
orders that he should be served refreshment in the kitchen.

"Elisinde went up to her bedroom, which overlooked the garden. She threw
the window wide open and looked out into the starry darkness. It was a
breathless summer night. The air was full of warm scents. Lights
still twinkled in the village; now and again a dog barked