“Little one, make your goat perform a miracle.”

“I do not know what you mean,” replied the dancer.

“A miracle, a piece of magic, a bit of sorcery, in short.”

“I do not understand.” And she fell to caressing the pretty animal, repeating, “Djali! Djali!”

At that moment Fleur-de-Lys noticed a little bag of embroidered leather suspended from the neck of the goat, — “What is that?” she asked of the gypsy.

The gypsy raised her large eyes upon her and replied gravely, — “That is my secret.”

“I should really like to know what your secret is,” thought Fleur-de-Lys.