With the last words he drew, from a fat pouch at his side, a handful of bright bits of quartz-crystal, and, tossing them high in the air, let them fall over him and down upon the table in a glittering shower. There was a quick scramble for them; and then, with an uncanny laugh, David pirouetted down the table, backward, guiding himself miraculously among the articles that loaded the board, flinging about him, at every other step, more of his “jewels,” and now and then singing more extemporaneous verses concerning his mysterious country. All the table paused in its eating and drinking to watch him, for, when he chose, he was a remarkably clever and magnetic actor. To-day he was making an unusual effort, and presently even Lenore leaned forward a little to catch his words; and, in a swift glance, he perceived that some color had come into her cheeks, and a faint light into her eyes. It made a pleasant interlude in the feasting; and when at length the little man, with a hop and a spring, left the table, and came round to the place where he was accustomed to sit, he was followed by a burst of enthusiastic applause. The gayety that he had excited by his rhymes and his pebble shower did not die away for some time. By now, however, the eating was at an end, and a lighter tone of conversation spread through the room, as the footboys brought in two extra casks of beer and some dozens of bottles of red wine. This was the wished-for stage of the day’s entertainment, and if there was any one present that should be unminded for what was to come, this was the signal for departure. Madame Lenore was the only one in the room to go; but she rose the moment that the table had been cleared of food, and, with a slight bow to madame and monseigneur, slipped quietly to the stairs and passed up to her room with a relief in her heart that the day was over. The last white fold of Lenore’s drapery had scarcely disappeared round the bend in the stairway, when there came a knocking upon the outer door of the great hall, which was presently thrust open, before one of the henchmen could reach it, to let in a beggar from the bitter cold outside. It was the last day of the week of hospitality, and perhaps this wanderer was the more readily admitted for that fact. It was a woman, ragged, unkempt, and purple with cold. Madame Eleanore just glanced at her, and then signed to those at the lower end of the table to give her place with them, and bring her food. But the new-comer seemed not to notice the invitations of those near by. She stood still, gazing intently toward Madame Eleanore, till presently one of the henchmen, somewhat affected with liquor, sprang from his place with the intention of pulling her to a seat. In this act he got a view of her face with the light from a torch falling full across it. Instantly he started back with a loud exclamation,— “Mademoiselle!”