"Will you not play some more?" asked a young girl with large, dark eyes.
"Yes, I will play, and then you can dance," said Markus, nodding kindly.
Then he took a violin from one of the musicians and began to play for the dancing—such fine music that the promenaders upon the street along the canal stood still, and remained to listen. A magistrate, who often played piano and violin duets with his friend the notary, remarked that there must be a veritable Zigeuner among the Fair-folk, since he only could play in such a manner.
Then, forming a large circle, the people began to dance. The men, holding the maidens with stiff right arms under the armpits, whirled them around in an awkward, woodeny way. They kept it up until the perspiration streamed from their red, earnest faces. The children and their parents sat around. Occasionally, also, songs were sung. There was a good deal of laughing, and they all enjoyed themselves greatly.
In the midst of their jollity, two breathless children came running in. The larger was a little girl of eight years, with a dirty little cherub-face, haloed with flaxen ringlets. She had on an old pair of boy's trousers, held up by suspenders, and falling quite down to her little bare feet, so that in running so fast she nearly tripped in them. "The cops!" cried the child, panting, and the little one cried after her: "The cops!"
Johannes scarcely comprehended the full import of this word; but it had the effect upon the group which the appearance of a hawk in the upper air has upon a flock of tomtits, or of sparrows.
The presence of one or two watchmen, or policemen, on the road in front of the camp was nothing unusual; but now they were coming in greater numbers, and conducted by a dignified official in a black coat, and with a walking-stick and eye-glasses—the mayor, perchance! With that heroic tread which indicates an exalted sense of duty he led his men upon the scene. The music and noisy demonstrations were struck dumb, the dancing stopped, and everybody looked toward the road whence the common danger menaced. Each asked himself who most probably would be the victim; or considered the possibility of a harmless retreat from the neighborhood. Johannes alone thought nothing specially about it, not comprehending the extraordinary concern of the others.
But, behold! After the policemen and the presumptive mayor had stood a while at the entrance to the camp, asking information, they came straight up to Marjon's wagon. They soon had their eyes on Marjon and Johannes, and Johannes at once felt that the affair concerned himself. He felt wretchedly ashamed, and, although he could not remember any evil deed, he felt as if he certainly must have done something very wrong, and that now the law—the Law, had come to get him, and to punish him.
"Jimminy, Johnnie! Now you're in a pickle!" said Marjon. "She's got you in a hole."