The Romance of a Water-Lily. 97

“She will take the handful of lilies for what they are
worth. She knows well enough that no sane man
believes in fairies, and if this feat is a display of
courage——”

“Nay,” interrupted Michael, quickly, for now that
Salome was gone his gentleness had risen in a storm
as the soft snow before a hurricane—“no; it is not
meant for any display of courage. Thou art right—
no sane creature believes in fairies, and if Mistress
Salome’s heart is poisoned, as the foolish pot of cream
was poisoned on her window-sill—it is by no agency
unknown. I look not to meet the fairy of the
Rhéne, yet if Mistress Salome will but take the lilies
for what they are worth——, well, I shall be content.”

So saying he leapt from the boulder where he stood,
and, swinging himself down on to the grass slope
behind it, disappeared into the pine-wood at his left.

A roar of laughter greeted his departure, for if
Michael, the dreamy, the love-sick piper, had so
openly confessed his doubt of the fable, no one could
dare to acknowledge a secret belief in it.

H