quickly that he had become a brother to this block of ice while the happy dream was still in his thoughts.
It was wonderful, it was more than wonderful! Spellbound by the strange spectacle, I stood there, I know not how long, with my eyes looking into his. At last Schneeboule's voice aroused me:
"Ha! ha!" she laughed; "look, little baron, Bulger is trying to kiss his poor dead brother."
In truth, Bulger did have his nose pressed firmly against the block of ice in his effort to scent the strange animal imprisoned in that crystal cell—so near, and yet so far beyond the reach of his keen scent.
"Well, little baron," cried Schneeboule, "did I not speak truly? Have I not shown thee the Little Man with the Frozen Smile?"
"Indeed thou hast, fair princess," was my reply; "and I cannot tell thee how grateful I am to thee for having done so."
Then, as she plucked me by the sleeve, I pleaded, "Nay, gentle Schneeboule, not yet, not yet, let me bide a bit longer. The Little Man with the Frozen Smile seems to beg me not to go. I can almost imagine that I hear him whisper: 'O little baron, break open the crystal cell of my prison and take me with thee back to the world of sunshine, back to the land of the orange-tree, where the soft warm winds used to rock me to sleep in the cradle of the swaying boughs, while the wise and watchful patriarch of our flock stood guard over us all.'"
Schneeboule's big, round, gray eyes filled with tears at these words.
"Would that that he were alive, little baron," she murmured, "and I could give him some of my happiness to pay him back for all the long years he has been spending in his icy prison."
In a few moments Schneeboule took me by the hand and led me away from the great block of ice with its silent prisoner. My heart was very heavy, and both Schneeboule and Bulger did their utmost to divert me, but all to no purpose.
