Even as she spoke, a boy's voice rose clear and full in a Hungarian
love song, to the wild accompaniment of the cymbal.

"Hush!" said the man holding up his hand.

At the first sound of that high, clear voice, the bacchanalian
shoutings and roarings fell silent, and the wild weird song,
throbbing with passion, rose and fell upon the still evening air.
After each verse, the whole chorus of deep, harsh voices swelled
high over the wailing violins and Arnud's clanging cymbal.

"Good," muttered the man when the song had ceased. "Now get him."

"I shall bring him to yonder house," said Paulina, pointing to the
dwelling of Mrs. Fitzpatrick, whither in a few minutes she was seen
half dragging, half carrying a boy of eight, who kept kicking and
scratching vigorously, and pouring forth a torrent of English oaths.

"Hush, Kalman," said Paulina in Galician, vainly trying to quiet
the child. "The gentleman will be ashamed of you."

"I do not care for any gentleman," screamed Kalman. "He is a black
devil," glancing at the black bearded man who stood waiting them at
the door of the Fitzpatrick dwelling.

"Hush, hush, you bad boy!" exclaimed Paulina, horrified,
laying her hand over the boy's mouth.

The man turned his back upon them, pulled off his black beard,
thrust it into his pocket, gave his mustaches a quick turn and