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V. Through the Moonlight

           Againtheinstrumentsendedthetune;againtheyrecommencedwithasmuchfireandpathosasifitwerethefirststrain.Theairwasnowthatonewithoutanyparticularbeginning,middle,orend,whichperhaps,amongallthedanceswhichthronganinspiredfiddler’sfancy,bestconveystheideaoftheinterminable—thecelebrated“Devil’sDream.”Thefuryofpersonalmovementthatwaskindledbythefuryofthenotescouldbeapproximatelyimaginedbytheseoutsidersunderthemoon,fromtheoccasionalkicksoftoesandheelsagainstthedoor,wheneverthewhirlroundhadbeenofmorethancustomaryvelocity.

           Thefirstfiveminutesoflisteningwasinterestingenoughtothemummers.Thefiveminutesextendedtotenminutes,andthesetoaquarterofanhour;butnosignsofceasingwereaudibleinthelively“Dream.”Thebumpingagainstthedoor,thelaughter,thestamping,wereallasvigorousasever,andthepleasureinbeingoutsidelessenedconsiderably.

           “WhydoesMrs.Yeobrightgivepartiesofthissort?”Eustaciaasked,alittlesurprisedtohearmerrimentsopronounced.

           “Itisnotoneofherbettermostparlour-parties.She’saskedtheplainneighboursandworkpeoplewithoutdrawinganylines,justtogive’emagoodsupperandsuchlike.Hersonandshewaituponthefolks.”

           “Isee,”saidEustacia.

           “’Tisthelaststrain,Ithink,”saidSaintGeorge,withhiseartothepanel.“Ayoungmanandwomanhavejustswungintothiscorner,andhe’ssayingtoher,’Ah,thepity;’tisoverforusthistime,myown.

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