But the flageolet-player sat suddenly down upon a grave and broke into hysterical laughter.
"Oh—oh—oh! Quick, madame! dance your pretty figures while yet I laugh and before I curse. O stars and planets, look down on this mad world and help me play! And, O monsieur, pardon me if I laugh; for that either you or I are mad is a cock-sure. Dance, madame——"
He put the flageolet to his lips and blew. In a moment or two harlequin and columbine appeared on the screen and began to caper nimbly, naturally, with the wildest grace. The tune was a merry reel and soon began to inspire the performer above. Her small dancers in a twinkling turned into a gamboling elephant, then to a couple of tripping fairies. A moment after, they were flower and butterfly, then a jigging donkey; then harlequin and columbine again. With each fantastic change the tune quickened and the dance grew wilder, till, tired out, the woman spread her hands wide against the sheet, as if imploring mercy.
The player tossed his flageolet over a headstone and rolled back on the grave in a paroxysm of laughter. Above him the rooks had poured out of their nests and were calling to each other.
"Monsieur," he gasped at last, sitting up and wiping his eyes, "was it good this time?"
"It was quite different, I'll own."
"Then could you spare from the house one little crust of bread? For I am famished."
The youth returned, in a couple of minutes, with some bread and cold bacon.
"Of course," he said, "if you should meet either of us in the village to-morrow you will not recognize us."
The little man bowed. "I agree," said he, "with your mother, monsieur, that you must be educated at all costs."