Dressed again in the fairy dress of tissue, she appeared as lovely as ever. Peregrine felt himself streamed through by the electric warmth of her body, and yet, amidst it all, a cold mysterious shudder thrilled through him like the breathing of death. For the first time he thought that he saw something singular and lifeless deeply seated in her eyes, while the tone of her voice, nay even the rustling of her dress, betrayed a strange being, who was never to be trusted. It fell heavily upon his heart, that, when she had spoken her real thoughts, she had been in this same silver tissue; he knew not why he should fancy any thing menacing in it, and yet the idea of this dress was intimately blended with that of the supernatural, as a dream unites the most heterogeneous things, and all passes for absurd, the deeper connexion of which we are unable to comprehend.
Far from wounding the fair-one with a suspicion which was perhaps false, Peregrine violently suppressed his feelings, and only waited for a favourable opportunity of freeing himself and escaping from the snake of Paradise. At last Dörtje said,
"How is it, my sweet friend, you seem so cold and insensible to-day? What have you got in your head, my life?"
"I have a headache," replied Peregrine, as indifferently as he was able.--"Headache!--whims!--megrims!--nothing else, my sweet child. I must go into the open air, and all will be over in a few minutes. Besides, I am called away by a particular business."
"It is all invention!" exclaimed Gamaheh, starting up hastily.--"But you are a malicious monkey, that must be tamed."
Peregrine was glad when he found himself in the open street; but as to Master Flea, he was quite extravagant in his joy, tittering and laughing incessantly in Peregrine's neckcloth, and clapping together his fore-paws till they rang again. This merriment of his little protegé was somewhat troublesome to Mr. Tyss, as it disturbed him in his meditations, and he begged of him to be quiet, for many grave people had already glanced at him with looks of reproach, fancying it was he who tittered and laughed, and played such foolish pranks in the open streets.
"Fool that I was!" exclaimed Master Flea, persisting in the ebullitions of his extravagant joy--"Fool that I was to doubt of the victory where no battle was needed. Why, you had conquered in the moment, when even the death of your beloved could not shake your resolution. Let me shout, let me rejoice, for all must deceive me, if a bright morning-sun do not soon arise, which will clear up every mystery."
On Peregrine's knocking at the bookbinder's, a soft female voice cried, "Come in!"--He opened the door, and a young girl, who was alone in the room, came forward, and asked him in a friendly manner what he wanted. She was about eighteen years old, rather tall than short, and slim, with the finest proportions. Her hair was of a bright chestnut colour, her eyes were of a deep blue, and her skin seemed to be a blended web of lilies and roses. But more than all this were the purity and innocence that sate upon her brow, and showed themselves in all her actions.
When Peregrine gazed on the gentle beauty, it seemed to him as if he had been hitherto lying in bonds, which a benevolent power had loosened, and the angel of light stood before him. But his enamoured gaze had confounded the maiden: she blushed deeply, and, casting down her eyes, repeated more gently than at first, "What does the gentleman want?" With difficulty Peregrine stammered out, "Pray, does the bookbinder Lemmerhirt live here?" Upon her replying that he did, but that he was now gone out upon business, Peregrine talked confusedly of bindings which he had ordered, of books which Lemmerhirt was to procure for him, till at last he came somewhat more to himself, and spoke of a splendid copy of Ariosto, which was to have been bound in red morocco with golden filleting. At this, it was as if a sudden electric spark had shot through the maiden; she clasped her hands, and, with tears in her eyes, exclaimed, "Then you are Mr. Tyss?" At the same time she made a motion as if she would have seized his hand, but suddenly drew back, and a deep sigh seemed to relieve her full breast. A sweet smile beamed on her face, like the lovely glow of morning, and she poured forth thanks and blessings to Peregrine for his having been the benefactor of her father and mother, and not only for this,--no--for his generosity, his kindness, the manner of his making presents to the children, and spreading joy and happiness amongst them. She quickly cleared her father's arm-chair of the books, bound and unbound, with which it was loaded, wheeled it forward, and pressed him to be seated, and then presented to him the splendid Ariosto with sparkling eyes, well knowing that this masterpiece of bookbinding would meet with Peregrine's approbation.
Mr. Tyss took a few pieces of gold from his pocket, which, the maiden seeing, hastily assured him that she did not know the price of the work, and, therefore, could not take any payment; perhaps he would be pleased to wait a few minutes for her father's return. It seemed to Peregrine as if the unworthy metal melted into one lump in his hand, and he pocketed the gold again, much faster than he had brought it out. Upon his seating himself mechanically in the broad arm-chair, the maiden reached after her own seat, and from instinctive politeness he jumped up to fetch it, when, instead of the chair, he caught hold of her hand, and, on gently pressing the treasure, he thought he felt a scarcely perceptible return.