mous!"

And burgomaster's Charlotte sat at the piano. Her delicate fingers
danced over the keys, and made them ring into Peter's heart. It seemed
too much for him to bear; and this happened not once, but many
times; and at last one day he seized the delicate fingers and the
white hand, and kissed it, and looked into her great brown eyes.
Heaven knows what he said; but we may be allowed to guess at it.
Charlotte blushed to guess at it. She reddened from brow to neck,
and answered not a single word; and then strangers came into the room,
and one of them was the state councillor's son. He had a lofty white
forehead, and carried it so high that it seemed to go back into his
neck. And Peter sat by her a long time, and she looked at him with
gentle eyes.

At home that evening he spoke of travel in the wide world, and
of the golden treasure that lay hidden for him in his violin.

"To be famous!"

"Tum-me-lum, tum-me-lum, tum-me-lum!" said the Fire-drum. "Peter
has gone clear out of his wits. I think there must be a fire in the
house."

Next day the mother went to market.

"Shall I tell you news, Peter?" she asked when she came home. "A
capital piece of news. Burgomaster's Charlotte has engaged herself
to the state councillor's son; the betrothal took place yesterday
evening."

"No!" cried Peter, and he sprang up from his chair. But his mother
persisted in saying "Yes." She had heard it from the baker's wife,
whose husband had it from the burgomaster's own mouth.

And Peter became as pale as death, and sat down again.

"Good Heaven! what's the matter with you?" asked his mother.

"Nothing, nothing; only leave me to myself," he answered but the
tears were running down his cheeks.

"My sweet child, my golden treasure!" cried the mother, and she
wept; but the Fire-drum sang, not out loud, but inwardly.

"Charlotte's gone! Charlotte's gone! and now the song is done."

But the song was not done; there were many more verses in it, long
verses, the most beautiful verses, the golden treasures of a life.

"She behaves like a mad woman," said the neighbor's wife. "All the
world is to see the letters she gets from her golden treasure, and
to read the words that are written in the papers about his violin
playing. And he sends her money too, and that's very useful to her
since she has been a widow."

"He plays before emperors and kings," said the town musician. "I
never had that fortune, but he's my pupil, and he does