Meg laughed, and clinked the key against the iron bars. She was on one side of the gate, and he was on the other, but they could see and smile, which was a better fate than befell Pyramus and Thisbe when divided by that cruel wall. Dan felt as though he were on the eve of storming an enchanted castle to release a spellbound princess. He mentioned this fancy to Meg, who raised her eyebrows. "You must be thinking of Miss Linisfarne then," she said, "for no imprisoned princess would possess a key." "Very well, Meg, let us change the fairy story, and say that you are Bluebeard's wife. She had a key, and made bad use of it. But are you going to keep me outside Paradise?" "Paradise!" repeated Meg, not seeing the veiled compliment. "Why do you call the park Paradise?" After his bad fortune of the previous day, Dan was careful not to hurt her susceptibilities, and explained his compliment in a most prosaic fashion. Were he to speak plainly, she might refuse him admittance. "Paradise," said he gravely, "is a Persian word, and signifies a large enclosure filled with wild beasts." "That is not a pretty thing to say, seeing that I am in this enclosure." "Oh! if you want compliments, I----" "No, no! I want no compliments," she cried hastily, putting the key in the lock; "you must not think I am so foolish as to believe all you say." "Do I, then, talk such sad nonsense?" "I'm afraid so. Pray do not talk any more, but enter into your wild-beast enclosure." The heavy gates opened with a rumble, and Dan stepped in. When he was on the right side Meg locked the gates once more. He was rather amused at so useless a precaution. "Are you afraid of thieves here?" "No. But Miss Linisfarne does not like strangers to enter the park. She will let no one see her." "A female veiled prophet! Why does she live so secluded?" "I don't know!" said Meg, coldly; "she never told me, and I do not ask questions." "That is a hint for me to be silent, I suppose. Well, I won't inquire further." They were walking up the grass-grown avenue, and Dan was amazed at the savageness of the place. Meg was quite used to it, and saw nothing strange in the desolation. It did not seem to lower her spirits, but rather had the opposite effect, as she began to whistle. A very pretty whistle she had, and executed an operatic air with much precision and sweetness. Dan laughed. She was so unconventional that he could not help his merriment. "Why do you laugh, Daniel?" said Meg, severely. "I beg your pardon, but I never heard a young lady whistle before." "Oh, I know it is wrong--Miss Linisfarne is always scolding me; but I cannot break off the habit. Are you shocked?" "By no means. I am charmed." "Another compliment. If you make any more I shall leave you, sir." "What, in this tropical jungle! Do not be so cruel. Remember I am a stranger, and entitled to hospitality."