And as he lifted his little face towards the corner whence the sudden draught had come, there fell on his ears the sound of rippling laughter—the merriest and yet softest laughter he had ever heard, and in which several voices seemed to mingle. So near it seemed at first that he could have fancied it came from the old granary on the other side of the wooden partition shutting off the staircase, but again, in an instant, it seemed to dance and flicker itself away, till nothing remained but a faint ringing echo, which might well be no more than the slight rattle of the glass in the old casement window.
Then all was silent, and the boy went on to his own room, and was soon covered up and fast asleep in his little white bed.
There were no voices in the chimney that night, or if there were Gratian did not hear them. But he had a curious dream.
[CHAPTER IV.]
A RAINBOW DANCE
"Purple and azure, white and green and golden,
and they whirl
Over each other with a thousand motions."
Prometheus Unbound.—Shelley