till youthful school-master surrounded by his promising pupils. "Well,
gentlemen, does the fair amuse you?" he asked, urbanely.

Navailles turned to his doll for inspiration, made it give its metallic
squeak, and then, as if repeating what Pulcinello had whispered to him,
replied: "Enormously."

Oriol trumpeted his approval loudly, and the expressions of the others
bore ample testimony to their enjoyment.

"Well, gentlemen," said Gonzague, "I hope and think that I reserved the
best for the end." He made a sign to Peyrolles, who approached him.
"Where is the girl?" he questioned, in a low voice.

Peyrolles pointed to the caravan. "Shall I bring her?" he asked.

Gonzague nodded. Peyrolles crossed the grass, his course followed
curiously by the eyes of Gonzague's friends, till he halted at the
caravan and knocked at the door. Flora put out her head, and, recognizing
Peyrolles, greeted him with an eager smile.

"The time has come," said Peyrolles, in a low voice, "for you to dance to
this gentleman."

Flora touched him eagerly on the arm. "Which is my prince?" she asked.

Peyrolles gave a jerk of his head in the direction of Gonzague, and
answered: "He in black with the star."

In a moment Flora had retired within the caravan, and emerged again with
a pair of castanets in her hands. She advanced to Gonzague and made him a
reverence. "Shall I dance for you, pretty gentleman?" she asked.

Gonzague watched her curiously, seeing in one swift, incisive glance that
she might very well serve for his purpose. "With all my heart," he
answered, courteously.

He seated himself at a table under the trees, with his little court
grouped about him, and Flora began to dance. It was such a dance as only
a Spaniard trained in the gypsy school could dance--a dance whose
traditions go back to days when the Roman Empire was old, to days when
the Roman Empire was young. Now active, now languid, by turns passionate,
daring, defiant, alluring, a wonderful medley of exquisite
contradictions, the girl leaped hither and thither, clicking her
castanets and sending her bright glances like arrows towards the admiring
spectators. She moved like a flame fluttered by the wind, like a
butterfly, like a leaf, like any swift, volatile, shifting, shimmering
thing. She seemed as agile as a cat, as tireless as a monkey, as free as
a bird. Suddenly the dance that was all contradiction ended in a final
contradiction. At the moment when her exuberance s