What! what! had monsieur never heard of their village spectre? Why, where had monsieur been? He, Alesso, thought it was talked of all—over—the—world!
The stranger desired to have it described.
A villager then sang—
“When day has gone—when night has come,
When howls the wind—when thunders roar,
Then on the hill-top, all dressed in white,
Thou’lt see this shade—thou’lt see with awe!”
“Without a step it glides along,
With hanging hair—with glaring eyes.
On—on it glides, and then ’tis gone,
And as ’tis lost, it utters cries!”
The stranger laughed, and said he would soon find out the mystery if he lived there.
It may be presumed that the stranger had been living in Paris; but certainly he was very gallant.
He flattered Liza somewhat, but turning his eyes full upon Amina, he forgot Liza altogether, and began paying the young bride a great many compliments.
She smiled at the compliments paid her by the stranger, and answered smartly; but at last grew timid as the count grew bolder; and indeed she was not sorry when Elvino came up, and accidentally stood between them. The count requiring some explanation, Elvino gave it him by plainly telling him she was his wife; whereupon the count congratulated him on his good fortune.
Well, the contract business over, the notary departed for home; the villagers also within doors; the count in the village inn, and Liza retired, rather annoyed and angry; the two young people were in the moonlight, bidding each other good night.