“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, otherwise everything was still.  She leant out of the window, and cried bitterly because her lot was loathsome to her, and she had not a friend in the world to whom she could confide her sorrow.

“While she was thus sobbing she heard a rustling in the bushes beneath; she looked down and she saw a face looking up towards her, a beautiful face, glistening in the moonlight.  It was the fiddler.

“‘Elisinde,’ he called to her in a low voice, ’if you want to escape I have the means.  Come with me; I love you, and I will save you from your doom.’

“‘I would come with you to the end of the world,’ she said, ’but how can I get away from this castle?’

“He threw a rope ladder up to her.  ‘Make it fast to the bar,’ he said, ‘and let yourself down.’

“She let herself down into the garden.  ’We can easily climb the wall with this,’ he said; ’but before you come I must tell you that if you will be my bride your life will be hard and full of misery.  Think before you come.’

“‘Rather all the misery in the world,’ she said, ’than the awful doom that awaits me here.  Besides which I love you, and we shall be very happy.’