“Come—'tis the moonlight hour,
Dew is on leaf and flower,
Come to the linden bower,
Let us rove—O my love—O my love!
Let us ro-o-ove, lurlurliety; yes, we'll rove, lurlurliety,
Through the gro-o-ove, lurlurliety—lurlurli-e-i-e-i-e-i!
(Cobbler, as usual)— Let us ro-o-ove,” etc.
“YOU here?” says another individual, coming clinking up the street, in a military-cut dress-coat, the buttons whereof shone very bright in the moonlight. “YOU here, Eglantine?—You're always here.”
“Hush, Woolsey,” said Mr. Eglantine to his rival the tailor (for he was the individual in question); and Woolsey, accordingly, put his back against the opposite door-post and chequers, so that (with poor Eglantine's bulk) nothing much thicker than a sheet of paper could pass out or in. And thus these two amorous caryatides kept guard as the song continued:—
“Dark is the wood, and wide,
Dangers, they say, betide;
But, at my Albert's side,
Nought, I fear, O my love—O my love!
“Welcome the greenwood tree,
Welcome the forest tree,
Dearest, with thee, with thee,
Nought I fear, O my love—O ma-a-y love!”
Eglantine's fine eyes were filled with tears as Morgiana passionately uttered the above beautiful words. Little Woolsey's eyes glistened, as he clenched his fist with an oath, and said, “Show me any singing that can beat THAT. Cobbler, shut your mouth, or I'll break your head!”
But the cobbler, regardless of the threat, continued to perform the “Lurlurliety” with great accuracy; and when that was ended, both on his part and Morgiana's, a rapturous knocking of glasses was heard in the little bar, then a great clapping of hands, and finally somebody shouted “Brava!”
“Brava!”
At that word Eglantine turned deadly pale, then gave a start, then a rush forward, which pinned, or rather cushioned, the tailor against the wall; then twisting himself abruptly round, he sprang to the door of the bar, and bounced into that apartment.
“HOW ARE YOU, MY NOSEGAY?” exclaimed the same voice which had shouted “Brava!” It was that of Captain Walker.