doors to listen and stare, he would not
have minded their stinginess.

He that cannot eat had best sleep. The little man passed the flat of
his hand, in the dusky light, over the two benches, and having chosen
the one with fewest asperities on its surface, tossed his bag and
flageolet upon the other, pulled off his boots, folded his cape to make
a pillow, and stretched himself at length. In less than ten minutes he
was sleeping dreamlessly.

Over his head there hung a board containing a list or two of the parish
ratepayers, and the usual notice of the spring training of the Royal
Cornwall Rangers' militia. This last placard had broken from two of
its fastenings, and, toward midnight was rustled by an eddy of the
light wind so loudly as to wake the sleeper.

He sat upright and lowered his bare feet upon the pavement. Outside,
the blue firmament was full of stars, sparkling unevenly, as though the
wind was trying in sport to extinguish them. In the eaves of the porch
he could hear the martins rustling in the crevices that they had come
back, but a few days since, to warm again. But what drew the man to
the entrance was the window in the cottage over the wall.

The lattice was pushed back and the room inside was brightly lit. But
a white sheet had been stretched right across the window between him
and the lamp. And on this sheet two quick hands were waving all kinds
of clever shadows, shaping them, moving them and reshaping them with
the speed of lightning.

It was certainly a remarkable performance. The shadows took the form
of rabbits, swans, foxes, elephants, fairies, sailors with wooden legs,
old women who smoked pipes, ballet-girls who pirouetted, twirling
harlequins and the profiles of eminent statesmen--and all made with two
hands and, at the most, the help of a tiny stick or piece of string.
They danced and capered, grew large and then small, with such odd turns
and changes that the flageolet-player could hardly hold his laughter.
He remarked that the hands, whenever they were disentwined for a
moment, appeared to be very small and plump.

After about ten minutes the display ceased and the shadow of a woman's
head and neck crossed the sheet, which was presently drawn back at one
corner.

"Is that any better?" asked a woman's voice, low but distinct.

The flageolet-player started and bent his eyes lower across the graves
and into the shadow beneath the window. For the first time he grew
aware tha