Then they all began to sing together, but each voice was like the sound of its own instrument, only it said words through its tones, and in Othmar’s ears their music sounded as never music had sounded before. The voices of the violin girls were so sweet that he felt as if he must weep to hear them, while the sound of the pipes and trumpets filled him with longing to go into the world and fight and win battles. He sat on the ground and listened to them like one in a trance, and he felt as if he never wished to rise or go away again. The dwarf sat on a hillock near, and did not seem to heed them much. When Othmar took his eyes from the dancers for a minute, he found that the place was quite full of all the animals who are never seen by day, but who fly out by night. There were crowds of bats and owls, and odd moths, all poised in the air, and seeming to watch the musicians and listen to their singing. Then when he looked on the ground, he saw that strange wood-snakes and toads had come out boldly, and with their heads turned towards the dancers remained motionless and watched them, whilst near him green and brown lizards lay still as stone, with heads on one side, all staring through the dusky night at the singers. Othmar thought he only had watched them for a few minutes, when suddenly the dwarf cried out—“The dawn, the dawn, my children; see, there is red in the sky. Come, be quick, see who will win Othmar’s gift before we go on our way.” When he was silent all the singing girls approached Othmar, but before the others came one who looked slighter and younger, and whose voice though as sweet was weaker. “See, Othmar,” she cried, “before we go on and leave you, let us try to sing one song together. Sing you as I do.” And Othmar sang with her as she sang, in a clear voice like a bird’s— “Ere the sun shines in the sky, We will sing together, my love and I; But none shall hear him sing again, ’Neath moon or sun, in shine or rain.” And then ere the last notes had left Othmar’s mouth, she bent forward, and clasped him in her slender arms, and kissed him on the lips while still they were open to sing. “Good-bye, Othmar,” cried she, “and that will be your last note for many a long year, for surely you will have no need to sing after I am gone,” and at that all the strange folk standing near gave a laugh that was more a chord of music than a laugh. And when her lips touched Othmar’s he quivered all over as a fiddle-string does when the bow is drawn across it; and he gave a cry which was like the sweet sound of a bell. “Mine, mine!” cried the girl, as he fell back from her frightened. “Now my voice will be the sweetest and best of all, for I have got Othmar’s too. No one will hear Othmar now,—Othmar who sang like the birds. And never will he call the birds again, but I can sing as he sang, and all who hear me will think that Othmar sings too. Rejoice, my sisters, sing and rejoice,” but at that moment the dwarf started up crying out—