"Where does that music come from?" said Rollo.
"Hark!" repeated Mr. George.
So Mr. George and Rollo stood still and listened almost breathlessly to the music, until it ceased.
"That was good music," said Rollo.
Mr. George made a sort of inarticulate exclamation, which seemed to imply that he had no words to express the emotion which the music awakened in his mind, and walked slowly away.
Presently they came to a place on one side, where there was a great iron gate or door in the screen, which seemed to be ajar.
"Here's a door open," said Mr. George; "let us go in here."
Rollo shrank back a little. "I'm afraid they will not let us go in here," said he. "It looks like a private place."
Rollo was always very particular, in all his travels, to avoid every thing like intrusion. He would never go where it seemed to him doubtful whether it was proper to go. By this means he saved himself from a great many awkward predicaments that persons who act on a contrary principle often get themselves into while travelling. Mr. George was not quite so particular.
"It looks rather private," said Mr. George; "but if they do not wish us to go in, they must keep the door shut."