isappeared. He was never seen again.

Often Femke interrupted with questions, for there was much that was
strange and wonderful to her; but she was charmed with the story and
shared all of Walter's enthusiasm.

"I tell you, though, Walter, if that girl had known what Telasco was
up to she wouldn't have done it. But the story is beautiful. I wonder
if such things really happen."

"That was far from here, Femke, and a long time ago. That's just the
way it was in the book. But now I must go home, for I haven't a stiver
to pay the gate-keeper if I come in after eight. Oh, Femke--if I were
only through with that poetry business."

"It will turn out all right. Just think of Telasco. He had a difficult
task, too."

"No! I will think of the girl. Good-evening, Femke----"

Walter received the hearty kiss that his story had earned him, and
dreaming of Aztalpa, who was guarding the linen, he passed through
the Ash Gate and turned towards home. The moon shone so brightly that
he was annoyed not to have been able to remain with Femke. How much
better, he thought, could he have told his story by moonlight! But
he didn't have the price--a stiver.

CHAPTER XV

The moon paused on the sky, as if she were weary of her lonely
lot. Was she grieved because ungrateful humanity had fallen asleep
and was ignoring her?--or because of the light borrowed from her
for thousands of years, and none returned? She poured forth her
sorrow in heart-breaking noiseless elegies till the night-wind was
moved to pity. Whish! he went through the trees; and the leaves
danced. Crash! he went over the roof; and the tiles flew away, and
chimneys bowed meekly; and over the walls and ditches the sawmills
danced with the logs they were to saw. There a girl sat sleeping. Could
it be Femke? The linen danced about her to the music of the wind, the
shirts making graceful bows and extending their sleeves. Nightcaps,
dickeys and drawers danced the minuet; stockings, skirts, collars,
handkerchiefs waltzed thicker and thicker around the sleeping girl. Her
curls began to flutter--a smile, a sigh, and she sprang to her feet. A
whirlwind caught her up and----

"O, heavens, Femke, Femke!" and Walter grasped at the apparition that
was being borne away towards the moon in a cloud of stockings, socks,
drawers, shirts and collars.

"Mother! Walter's pinching me," cried Laurens, the printer's
apprentice; and Juffrouw Pieterse groaned, that those boys couldn't
ev