But it was all to no purpose. For a moment he caught sight of a white hand raised, either to fasten the window or to point to something, but the next instant this too had disappeared. He was on the watch again when he returned home, taking care, however, to stand or sit where he could not be seen; and the next day and the next it was the same. He spent so much time in watching, indeed, that he got quite angry with himself at last; and then he would go out riding, and come back quite vexed and out of sorts. "Bother it all!" he thought to himself; "of course I shall see her again sooner or later if she is there." He was standing in his usual place again one evening, when he saw two shadows move away from the opposite window in the most tantalizing manner, and he felt so hopeful that he sat down to watch at his ease. If tobacco had been known in those days, no doubt he would have lighted his pipe or a cigar; but as it was not, he had nothing to console himself with, and could only sit and "look for King David and his harp" in the moon, as the saying is. All at once he fancied that he really did hear him playing his harp in his silver palace. There were sounds of some sort--soft, sweet sounds, which came floating towards him on the air; and he thought to himself that he had surely heard the plaintive melody with its vibrating chords somewhere before. "To be sure! I have got it!" he said to himself. "I know now _where_! But, of course, others might know the air.--Eh! what's that, though?" he exclaimed, as a sweet, young, bell-like voice now began to accompany the instrument, and he heard one of the very songs which he had himself composed in the days which now seemed so long ago. That Miska the beggar boy should be a popular poet will astonish no one who knows how many of the popular songs of Hungary have had their origin in the humble cottages of the peasantry, in the course of past centuries. Every village has its poet, who is also frequently a musical composer as well. He sings his songs at the village merry-makings to airs of his own invention, and the gipsies, who are always present on such occasions to play for the dancers, accompany him on their fiddles. If they take a fancy to the air, they will remember it, and invent variations to it, and in this way it will be preserved and become part of their stock. "One life, one God, One home, one love," sang Michael's opposite neighbour, in a voice of great beauty and sweetness. "It's Esther! it must be Esther!" cried the young man, starting to his feet in great excitement. "Esther!" he said, and a flush mounted to his face; "but here, _here_, actually here, opposite me? Impossible! I must see her and make sure. No one could know that song, though, but herself; I made it for her, and no one else ever had it, at least from me."