For a minute or two I had heard no sound. Then, with no warning,
had come an exquisite touching of keys and a girl's voice.

"To her let us garlands bring."

The melody faded and ceased. The refrain melted into the
silence. For a moment I stood still, my eyes on the balcony
above. Then I slipped noiselessly to the car, picked up a rug
from the back seat and laid it, folded small, on the edge of the
car's back. Half on the padded leather and half on the cape
hood, strapped tight, I laid it. Standing upon this perilous
perch, I was just able to lay my fingers upon the cold edge of
the balcony's floor. With an effort I could grasp one of the
stone balusters. An idea occurred to me, and I got carefully
down. One of the luggage-carrier's straps was six feet long. I
had it loose in a moment. A minute later and I had wheedled it
round the baluster I could clutch. Buckled, it made a loop three
feet in length that would have supported a bullock. I was about
to soar, when I remembered the car. I jumped down once more,
turned the key of the switch, and slipped it into my pocket. No
one could steal her now. The next second I had my foot in the
thong.

I sat on the coping, looking into the room. Broad and lofty it
was, its walls hung with a fair blue paper. A handsome tapestry,
looped up a little on one side, masked the tall double doors, and
in the far corner stood a great tiled stove for burning wood.
From the ceiling was hanging a basin of alabaster- an electric
fitting, really. The powerful light of its hidden lamps spread,
softened, all about the chamber. The blue walls bore a few