I heard a tune in the
woods which I must get out of my clavier,--a green tune, the color of
quickening lichens; a dropping tune with sap in it; a tune like the wind
across inland lakes."

She ran along the settle, and thrust her head around its high back.

Zelie, with white garments upon one arm, was setting solidly forth down
the uncovered stairs, when the dwarf arrested her by a cry.

"Go back, heavy-foot,--go back and fetch me my clavier."

"Mademoiselle the nightingale has suddenly returned," muttered Zelie,
ill pleased.

"Am I not always here when my lady comes home? I demand the box wherein
my instrument is kept."

"What doth your instrument concern me? Madame has sent me to dress the
baby."

"Will you bring my clavier?"

The dwarf's scream was like the weird high note of a wind-harp. It had
its effect on Zelie. She turned back, though muttering against the
overruling of her lady's commands by a creature like a bat, who could
probably send other powers than a decent maid to bring claviers.

"And where shall I find it?" she inquired aloud. "Here have I been in
the fortress scarce half an hour, after all but shipwreck, and I must
search out the belongings of people who do naught but idle."

"Find it where you will. No one hath the key but myself. The box may
stand in Madame Marie's apartment, or it may be in my own chamber. Such
matters are blown out of my head by the wind along the coast. Make
haste to fetch it so I can play when Madame Marie appears."

Le Rossignol drew herself up the back of the settle, and perched at ease
on the angle farthest from the fire. She beat her heels lightly against
her throne, and hummed, with her face turned from the listless girl, who
watched all her antics.

Zelie brought the instrument case, unlocked it, and handed up a
crook-necked mandolin and its small ivory plectrum to her tyrant. At
once the hall was full of tinkling melody. The dwarf's threadlike
fingers ran along the neck of the mandolin, and as she made the ivory
disk quiver among its strings her head swayed in rapturous singing.

Zelie forgot the baby. The garments intended for its use were spread
upon the settle near the fire. She folded her arms, and wagged her head
with Le Rossignol's. But while the dwarf kept an eye on the stairway,
watching like a lover for the appearance of Madame La Tour, the outer
door again clanked, and Klussman stepped into the hall. His big presence
had instant effect on Le Ross