Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 3).djvu/97

 "Hark!" interrupted the fairy.

The sound of a bell rang out from a neighbouring steeple. Midnight struck! Michael counted the twelve strokes, and could not restrain a cry. It was the hour designated by the parents when they would proclaim to the suitors who had presented themselves at the ball their daughter's choice for a husband. He wrung his hands in despair.

"Unhappy man that I am!" he cried. "When I arrive all will be over; she and her parents will laugh at me."

"And that would be justice, my big man!" replied Drak, with a pointed sneer, "For you have said yourself, For those who arrive late there remains nothing but regret. This will serve you, I hope, as a lesson, and prevent you another time from laughing at the feeble, for from henceforth you will know that The smallest are big enough to avenge themselves."