_Round the crimson vial go On the hill-top, in the dawn, Singing softly, on tip-toe, "Nixie--pixie--leprechaun!" And, if once will not suffice, Do it thrice. If this fail, at break of day, I can show you a better way._ Bring the buds of the hazel-copse Where two lovers kissed at noon: Bring the crushed red wild thyme tops Where they walked beneath the moon; Bring the four-leaved clover also, One of the white, and one of the red, Mixed with the flakes of the may that fall so Lightly over the sky-lark's bed. _Round the fragrant vial go, On the hill-top, in the dawn, Singing softly, on tip-toe, "Nixie--pixie--leprechaun!" If this fail, at break of day, I can show you a better way._ Bring an old and wizened child --_Ah, tread softly and speak low_-- Tattered, tearless, wonder-wild. From that under-world below; Bring a withered child of seven Reeking from the City slime, Out of hell into your heaven, Set her knee-deep in the thyme. [Illustration] _Bring her from the smoky City, Set her on a fairy-throne. Clothe her, feed her, of your pity. Leave her for an hour alone._ You shall need no spells or charms On that hill-top, in that dawn. When she lifts her wasted arms You shall see a veil withdrawn. There shall be no veil between them, Though her head be old and wise. You shall know that she has seen them, By the glory in her eyes. _Round her irons, on the hill, Earth shall toss a fairy fire. Watch and listen and be still, Lest you baulk your own desire._ When she sees four azure wings Light upon her claw-like hand; When she lifts her head and sings, You shall hear and understand. You shall hear a bugle calling, Wildly over the dew-dashed down, And a sound as of the falling Ramparts of a conquered town. _You shall hear a sound like thunder, And a veil shall be withdrawn, When her eyes grow wide with wonder, On that hill-top, in that dawn._ [Illustration [Illustration] OUT OF THE JAWS OF DEATH _A TALE OF THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL_ BY BARONESS ORCZY _Painting by_ A. C. MICHAEL _and_ _Drawings by_ H. M. BROCK, R.I. _Copyright, 1914, by the Baroness Orczy in the U.S.A._ WE were such a happy family before this terrible revolution broke out: we lived rather simply but very comfortably in our dear old home just on the borders of the forest of Compiègne. Jean and André were the twins; just fifteen years old they were when King Louis was deposed from the throne of France, which God had given him, and sent to prison like a common criminal, with our beautiful Queen Marie Antoinette and the Royal children and Madame Elizabeth, who was so beloved by the poor!