Nadine screamed and darted forward. Madame PradÈre shrieked and rose from her chair. The Colonel sprang to his feet, and shouted: "Master Deschamps—Halt!" in his most commanding tone.

They were all concerned for the elephant, who was thus threatened with cruel blows from the shining steel. But their anxiety was after all unfounded. Nalla, perfectly alive to the impending danger, stood motionless until the fencing-master was within range of that marvelous trunk, and then there was one movement of the sinuous powerful thing, the sharp swish of steel cutting the air, and the baffled soldier's foil, torn from his grasp, went flying through the air into the darkness behind the van.

There was one moment of amazed silence, and then burst forth a tumult of applause to which all previous ones were as nothing. The special guests were delighted at the astonishing adroitness of Nalla, while the soldiers, not failing to appreciate it, were even more delighted at the discomfiture of Master Deschamps, who was a merciless martinet that often made their lives miserable.

As for the fencing-master—he seemed so utterly chagrined, and slunk away looking so cast down, that Colonel Laurier considered he was sufficiently punished, and let him go unrebuked.

After this excitement it seemed appropriate to have the soothing influence of a song, and accordingly CÆsar announced amid general approval that Nadine would now fulfill her promise of singing again.

The little woman, her pretty countenance wreathed in smiles, for this wonderful evening had made her heart lighter than it had been for many a day, then came forward, and CÆsar being ready with his mandolin, began a lovely cradle-song with a curious penetrating charm.

The spectators were greatly pleased with it, and if Nadine had been guided by the successive waves of applause, she would have sung again and again. But the hour was getting late, and there still remained to be given the grand act in which all the animals took part, and which was being anticipated with the keenest interest by the younger portion of the assembly.

First of all, the dog, Vigilant, with the cap of a mousquetaire upon his head, and a neat pair of boots upon his hind paws, made his appearance mounted upon Steady, looking very happy and important. He had, attached to his right paw, a tiny whip with which in a very comical way he flipped his steed from time to time as if he was impatient for the sedate old animal to quicken his pace.

But Steady took not the slightest notice of these attentions from his rider. He came in with a slow chump-chump-chump, his head hanging between his fore-legs, and his whole appearance that of a horse thoroughly tired out, while Vigilant ran up and down his back from neck to tail and back again, his rapid barks expressing alternately coaxing and scolding, persuasion and abuse.

Yet all without avail. Steady remained equally deaf to threats as to entreaties. He positively make one ache with sympathy to look at him, so perfectly did the clever beast enact extreme weariness.

Presently Steady sank upon his knees, and, after resting in that attitude a moment, made a great effort to regain his feet, but seeming unable to do it, fell over on his side, and, stretching out his head, lay upon the ground as limp and motionless as though he were dead.

At once Vigilant, being thus sent to the ground much against his will, sent up a most piteous bewailing so far as it could be expressed through the medium of barking. He went to Steady's head and barked right into his ears to make him understand the better. But all to no purpose. Steady did not budge.

Then Vigilant got angry, and he circled around Steady pouring upon him a shower of blows from his whip. These having no effect, he stopped as if at last realizing that his steed was dead, and, squatting down on his hind legs, began to cry, and to wipe away the tears with his left paw in an exceedingly funny way.

Suddenly he lifted his head and pricked up his ears. He heard the voice of a child singing softly. With an eager volley of barks he called for assistance. Whereupon Nalla appeared upon the scene with Lydia perched upon his broad neck.

"Did you call me, young sir?" asked Lydia precisely as if she were addressing one of her own kind.

"Yes—yes—" yapped Vigilant excitedly.

"And what can I do for you?" inquired Lydia with a sympathetic smile.

Vigilant did his best to explain. He pointed with his paw to Steady lying prone upon the ground, apparently dead, and with the most touching little barks he strove to make his meaning clear.

Lydia looked as if she understood what he was driving at, but said in a guileless way:

"Young sir, I am only a child, and my education is far from complete. I can, it is true, speak several languages, but I know nothing of the one you use. However, I think that with a little patience it will be possible for us to understand each other. Do you follow me?"

"Oh, perfectly!" responded Vigilant, bowing neatly.

"Very well, then," continued Lydia. "As you understand me, we shall proceed. I shall ask you some questions, and you will answer me, one bark being for 'yes,' and two for 'no.' You catch that? All right. Have you come a long way? Yes. You are, then, perhaps some young prince making a tour of the country?"

"That's it," replied Vigilant.

"Very good! You're a young prince, I've no doubt," said Lydia, "judging from your distinguished manners, and the elegance of your speech. But this horse that is lying down there, does he belong to you?"

"Yes indeed," responded the dog emphatically.

"He is tired or sick, perhaps," continued Lydia in a tone of sympathy, "and you cannot continue your journey, eh?"

At this Vigilant made shift to weep, and to cross his paws over his heart in a most beseeching manner.

"Your distress is very touching, young sir," said the child. "You think your horse is dead?"

"Alas, I do!" answered the dog in a long pitiful whine.

"It is indeed very unfortunate that a young gentleman of your quality should find himself in this predicament in such a lonely place," pursued Lydia. "Your parents are no doubt anxiously awaiting your return?"

"You've just hit it! You're quite right," the eager barking seemed to reply.

"Ah! I understand," went on Lydia, her face brightening with a sudden gleam of comprehension. "You have perhaps disobeyed your mother?"

"Yes, I have," Vigilant confessed with a very penitent air.

"Then you are being punished for your misbehavior," rejoined Lydia with the air of a grandmother. "So much the worse for you. You've been naughty, and you must take the consequences. I can't do anything for you, young sir. Good-luck and good-bye to you. Come, Nalla, we must go on our way."

But Nalla did not stir, and began to make certain mutterings as though he were begging Lydia for something.

"What do you want, Nalla?" demanded Lydia. "Do you wish to give some assistance to this young man?"

The elephant's trunk gave an emphatic answer in the affirmative.

"Yes," it seemed to say. "I do, because it would be a kindness."

"To be sure! I was forgetting your power," returned Lydia, adding as she turned to Vigilant, "You are fortunate, young sir, that Nalla came your way, for you must know that having been brought up in a temple, Nalla, when he was young, received from the god Buddha the power of doing three times in his life whatever good action he might see fit, even though it were bringing a horse back to life, and Nalla now is going to revive your poor old horse."

On hearing this Vigilant poured forth a volley of joyful barks, and started dancing around in a way that Lydia called waltzing.

Then Nalla, having lifted Lydia to the ground with his wonderful trunk which served so many useful purposes, approached Steady, whom he touched gently with his trunk, and, directed by Lydia, walked three times around him, waving his trunk in a curious spiral fashion. Next, thrusting it under the motionless horse, he endeavored to lift him to his feet, but the moment he offered to take away the support the poor beast threatened to fall down again.

Vigilant now saw that he must come to Nalla's aid, and he made haste to pile up the dust with his paws under each of the horse's feet as the clowns do in the circus in their own ridiculous fashion.

This proceeding evoked a roar of laughter from the highly amused spectators, and when it was finished Nalla let out a tremendous trumpeting, fit to rouse the world. It was effectual in rousing Steady at all events, and, with a shake that seemed to make his bones rattle, he stood up straight.

Vigilant was most profuse in his gratitude, making profound bows, accompanied by graceful salutes with the little whip fastened to his paw.

Lydia again bid him "Good-day," and Nalla putting out his trunk for her, regained her place upon his broad back.

As they were departing, Vigilant called them back. It was all well enough to bring his steed back to life, and set him upon his feet again, but now that he had dismounted he was quite unable to remount without assistance.

"Sure enough!" smiled Lydia in response to his excited request. "I might have thought of that. Nalla will be happy to do you that slight service, won't you, Nalla?"

Nalla waved his trunk in token of assent, and then extended it towards Vigilant. The dog kept perfectly still while the wonderful appendage that could do almost anything, picked him up in the most careful manner, and deposited him upon the back of the horse.

Then the whole party withdrew, and the next moment Lydia reappeared to proceed with her song. But the other actors in the little scene were in such high spirits that they could not permit her to have the singing to herself.

First, Vigilant lifted up his voice with great energy. Then Steady, to whom Lydia had given a lump of sugar, whinnied his satisfaction in an insistent fashion, and finally Nalla joined in with his deafening and by no means melodious trumpeting, swinging his huge head from side to side, and completing a quartet, whose music, while it stunned the ears of the audience, was certainly ridiculous enough to make the most morose smile, and win a laugh from the most dignified.

This concluded the entertainment, and the spectators, thoroughly well pleased with what they had seen and heard, began to disperse. Madame PradÈre went forward to congratulate Nadine, and to invite her and Lydia to come and see her next morning before they left for another place. The Mayor and the Colonel also signified the pleasure the performance had given them, and in a little while the whole gathering had vanished.

When they were by themselves in their van the young Tambys made haste to reckon up the receipts of the evening with beaming countenances.

"It can't be so much, Nadine!" cried CÆsar on his sister announcing the total. "You are surely mistaken!"

"Well, let us go over it again, CÆsar," rejoined Nadine with a happy smile, and accordingly the white and brown coins, among which kind Madame PradÈre's gold piece glittered conspicuously, were once more carefully counted.

"One hundred and twenty-eight francs!" exclaimed CÆsar, springing to his feet, and waving his cap joyously. "Just think of it! We never had so much money of our own before! And to get it all in one evening! Oh! that kind good Madame, and the polite Colonel, it was because of them we did so well. We owe it to them, don't we, Nadine?" and in the ecstasy of his delight he threw his arms around his pretty sister's neck, and kissed her warmly.

Nadine blushed with pleasure at this rare tribute of brotherly affection.

"Yes, indeed, CÆsar," she responded. "Madame PradÈre is certainly our good angel, and we shall all go to thank her again before we leave here. Oh! if only our dear father were still alive, how glad he would be! We never made so much at one performance when he was with us," and at the recollection of her father the young girl's fine eyes filled with tears, and her rosy lips quivered.

But, controlling her grief, she smiled brightly through her tears as she added:

"We shall all have plenty to eat for a good while now, and Nalla, and Steady, and Vigilant will grow fat again. Come now, let us all get to bed. We're tired out, and there'll be plenty to do in the morning."

So in quick time the van was by a few simple changes converted into a sleeping-apartment, and after CÆsar had seen to it that the animals lacked for nothing, the light-hearted quartet of children, having committed themselves to the care of the good God, whom their parents had taught them to love, lay down to sleep, little imagining how rudely their much-needed rest was ere long to be disturbed.