After the spectators were gone he went with his Guide between the curtains from behind which the horses had come. In the dimly lighted space where a single lamp was burning, and close to where the breathing and stamping of the horses could be heard, Johannes saw her sitting. She was stooping down to a chest on the top of which were some plates of food, and she still had on her pretty costume. There was no one with her. "Good day, Markus," said she, extending her hand to Johannes' Guide. "Who is the little boy?" "This is Johannes. He wishes to make your acquaintance, and to do something good for you." "Is that so?" laughed the girl. "Then he might just change my silver quarters into gold." Johannes did not know what to say, and was more perplexed than he remembered ever in his life to have been before. But Marjon looked at him with her large, light, grey eyes, and nodded kindly. "Come, little boy, don't be so bashful. Won't you have something to eat? Quick! Before my sister comes! But you ought to stay with us. We are going to Delft this week. Are you going with us, Markus?" "It may be," said Markus. "Now, we are only going to try to find a place to sleep in. Johannes can hardly feel hungry. Do you, Johannes?" Johannes shook his head. "He has had a great sorrow, Marjon; his father has just died." Marjon looked at him again, gently and good-naturedly, and then gave him her hand, with the very same, quick gesture of confidence a monkey employs when he recognizes his master. "Good-by, till morning," she said, as the two passed out of the rear door of the tent. Outside, the moon was shining, and, since the rain had stopped, the Fair-people had become still more jolly and noisy. Well, well! How ugly they were! How clumsily they danced, and how badly they sang! The men and women were now standing in circles, their arms interlocked, with one another's hoods and caps on, ready to spring into the street, and to shriek out, in their harsh voices, songs without sense or tune. All their faces were wanton, vacant, or downright dissipated, and most of them were flushed with excitement or with drink. Johannes saw mothers, too, with infants in their arms, and leading little children by the hand, coming out of the fritter-stalls, dragging themselves along through the crowds. The tavern doors flew open, and the rude Fair-goers bounced outside. Here and there, on the street corners, a fierce quarrel was in progress, with a close ring of on-lookers gathered around. Nothing more that was pretty, or nice, or pleasing, was in sight. Everywhere there was raving and ranting and bawling; with a thousand dissonant noises, and a wretched stench.