he presses three times, quick as a pulse-beat, and, lo, a hidden spring is released and shoots the key into the loose sleeve of his coat.  On returning he puts his hand on the golden knob, presses the second toe of the third water nymph, and the key slides back into its hidden cavity.  This secret was alone known to the goldsmiths.  They went to the bottom of the sea with it.  In this way has the Keeper of the Key held his power and defied his enemies.  When the scholars were making epigrams and the bards warming into great cadences on the art of the ankle of the water nymph, this Keeper of the Key would retire to his watch-tower and roll about in secret merriment.”

“What a fiend!” cried the shepherd boy.

“He had caused to be painted in his room a scroll surrounded by illuminated keys and nymphs and tumbling cascades, and bearing the words, ’Let us praise the art which conceals art; but let us love the art which conceals power.’”

“What a monster!” cried the shepherd boy.

“In this way,” said the spirits of the Seven Sisters, “has he lived.  In this way has he been able to keep us from our freedom, our lover.  O shepherd boy—­”

Before another word could be spoken the shepherd boy was drawn up on the rope.  The water rose with him and lapped lightly over his person so that he might seem as if he had been plunged deeply into the well.

When he was drawn up to the side or the well the shepherd boy lay on the ground, his eyes closed, feigning great distress.  The people again clapped their hands, and some cried out, “Now little water rat, make us a new verse!” But others murmured in pity, and an old peasant woman, in a Breedeen cloak, hobbled to his side and smoothed back his locks.  At the touch of her soft hands the shepherd boy opened his eyes, and he saw it was the daughter of the Keeper of the Key disguised.  With the connivance of her governess, she had escaped from the mansion as an old peasant woman in a cloak.  The shepherd boy secretly kissed her little palms and whispered, “I must come to you at midnight.  As you value your life have the guards taken from the outer door, only for two minutes.  Make some pretext.  I will give the shepherd’s call and then you must act.  Do not fail me.”

Before more could be said the servants roughly bundled the old peasant woman aside, carried the shepherd boy to his lodgings, and there threw him on his bed.  “Remember,” they said, “that you remain within the walls of the town of the Seven Sisters after break of day at your peril.”

At midnight the shepherd boy arose and approached the mansion of the Keeper of the Key.  He could see the two grim guards, one each side of the oaken door.  Standing some way off he gave the shepherd’s call, making his voice sound like the hoot of an owl.  In a little time he saw the guards move away from the door; they went to a side entrance in the courtyard, and presently he could hear them laughing, as if some