t would sound like a far-off drum; now like
the melancholy cooing of the turtle-dove, and presently like the
distant roar of the approaching storm. All this was accompanied in the
most delightful manner by the tinkling of the clear, harmonious bells.
And the little guitar-player by no means fell short of her in
virtuosity; for he, too, had quite a style of his own of treating his
instrument--making the dance melody (which was a most characteristic
one, wholly out of the common run of such things) predominate at times,
loud and clear, and hushing it down at other times into a mysterious
piano, striking the strings with the palms of his hand (as the
Spaniards do in producing that peculiar effect), and presently dashing
out bright-sounding, full harmonies. The tambourine went on
_crescendo_, as the guitar-strings clanged louder and louder, and the
girl's boundings increased in their scope in a similar ratio. She would
set down her foot within a hair's-breadth of the eggs with the most
complete certainty and confidence, so that the spectators could not
help crying out, thinking that one of those fragile things must
infallibly be broken. Her black hair had fallen down, and it flew about
her head, giving her much the effect of a Maenad. The little fellow
cried out to her in Spanish, "Stop!" And on this, while still going on
with her dance, she lightly touched each of the eggs, so that they
rolled together into a heap; upon which, with a loud beat on her
tambourine and a forcible chord on the guitar, she came to a sudden
standstill, as if banned there by some spell. The dance was done.

The little fellow went up to her and undid the cloth which bound her
eyes. She rolled up her hair, took the tambourine, and went round
amongst the spectators, with downcast looks, to collect their
contributions. Not one had slunk off out of the way. Every one, with a
face of pleasure, put a piece of money into that tambourine. When she
came to Euchar, and as he was going to put something into it, she made
a sign of refusal.

"May not I give you anything?" he said.

She looked up at him, and the glowing fire of her loveliest of eyes
flashed through the night of her black silken lashes.

"The old man," she said gravely--almost solemnly--in her deep voice,
and with her foreign accent, "told me that you, sir, did not come till
the best part of my dance was done; and so I ought not to take anything
from you." Thus speaking she made Euchar a pret