After a silence of a few minutes the gardener said—
“There were once seven pigeons who said, ‘Seven pigeons are we, and with other seven pigeons we might all be mated; but, as it is, we must remain seven pigeons.’”
“Yes,” put in Pedro; “but I want to know who the princess’s lover is.”
The old man took no heed of the interruption, and continued—
“There were once seven pigeons who said, ‘Seven pigeons are we——’”
“Stop!” cried Pedro; “I will have no such idle talk. Tell me who this noble lover is, or I will do you an injury.”
“Sir,” cried the gardener, with a very serious countenance, “there were once seven pigeons who said, ‘Seven pigeons are we, and——’”
“Take your watering-can,” shouted Pedro in disgust; “I will not listen to your nonsense!”
“And yet there were once seven pigeons who said, ‘Seven pigeons are we;’ and now the last of them is gone, for the noble lover has been false to his trust,” exclaimed the old man, looking very cunningly at Pedro.
At these words Pedro looked towards the place where he had placed the pigeon, and it was no longer there.