"And so, when I met this fine young Prince Errant on the roadway, I knew he was meant for you."
But suddenly she accused him, shaking her little finger in mimicry of his own gesture.
"But you vanished very quickly, the other morning, after you played us out of the oubliette, Geiger-Onkel. And my prince had to face the wicked guardian all by himself, and you were not even there to tell the princess what she was to say. You have not been near us all these days."
"But, did you want me?" cried the fiddler, and gave a screech of laughter. It rang harshly. "Did you want me? That is the question."
She found nothing to answer. Truthfully, she had, these days, forgotten his very existence. He chuckled to himself, and hitched his violin round.
"Listen," said he, and began to play a dainty measure—so exquisitely tender-gay a measure that it made Sidonia, all in her young happiness, feel quite sad. "Listen; this is the first tune you ever danced to, little mamzell. That was how your steps went, and how you clapped your hands.... Oh, I have something better for you still to play to you.... But you must wait for it. It is the song of your bridal morning!"
The sun fell full on his face as he played. How weary he looked, how aged, how haunted, and yet how gentle—poor Geiger-Hans!
CHAPTER XV
FURENS QUID FEMINA POSSIT
"Et, dans leurs jalousies, vous trouverez toujours
Leurs vanités blessées plutôt que leurs amours."
DESTOUCHES.