As the lady had many names, it must have been difficult, one would have thought, for Peregrine to hit upon the right, but, without the least reflection, he exclaimed, “Dörtje Elverdink! dear, charming girl; was it no deceit? Is it possible that you can love me?”
Immediately the little one awoke from her dreamy state, opened her eye, and said with burning glance, “What a doubt, my Peregrine! Could a maiden do as I have done, unless her breast were filled with the most glowing passion? Peregrine, I love you more than anyone, and, if you will be mine, I am yours with my whole soul, and remain with you because I cannot leave you, and not merely to escape from the tyranny of my uncle.”
The silver threads had disappeared, and the thoughts, properly arranged, ran thus: “How is this? At first I feigned a passion for him only to regain Master Flea for myself and Leeuwenhoek, and now I actually am fond of him. I have caught myself in my own snares. I think no more of Master Flea, and would like to be his, who seems lovelier to me than any man I have ever seen.”
It may be easily supposed what effect these thoughts produced in Peregrine’s breast. He fell on his knees before the fair one, covered her hand with a thousand burning kisses, called her his joy, his heaven, his whole happiness.
“Well!” lisped the maiden, drawing him gently to her side, “well, my love, you certainly will not deny a request, on the fulfilment of which depends the repose, nay, the very existence of your beloved.”
“Demand,” replied Peregrine, tenderly embracing her, “demand anything, my life—anything you will. Your slightest wish is my command. Nothing in the world is so dear to me that I would not with pleasure sacrifice it to you and your affection.”
“Woe is me!” lisped Master Flea, “who could have imagined that the little traitress would have conquered? I am lost!”
“Hear then,” replied Gamaheh, after having returned with equal fire the glowing kisses, which Peregrine imprinted on her lips, “Hear then: I know how the—”
The door burst open, and in rushed George Pepusch.
“Zeherit!” cried the little one in despair, and fell back on the sofa, senseless.
The Thistle, Zeherit, flew to the princess, took her in his arms, and ran off with the speed of lightning.
For this time Master Flea was saved.
V
Fifth Adventure
With the speed of lightning—as the reader has already learned at the conclusion of the fourth adventure—George Pepusch snatched the fair one from the arms of the enamoured Peregrine, and left him behind petrified with astonishment and terror. When at length the latter came to his recollection, and would have followed his robber-friend, all was still and desolate in the house. Upon his repeated calling, the old Alina came pattering up the stairs from one of the farthest rooms, and declared that she had not observed any, the slightest part of the whole business.
Peregrine was nigh going mad at the loss of Dörtje, but Master Flea began to console him in a tone that must have inspired the most desperate with confidence: “You are not yet quite certain, my dear Mr. Peregrine, whether the fair Dörtje Elverdink has really left your house. As well as I can judge of such things, she is not far off; I seem to feel her nearness. But, if you will follow my friendly counsel, you will leave her to her fate. Trust me, she is as capricious as the wind. It may be, as you have said, that she now is really fond of you, but how long will it be before she plunges you into such misery, that you will be in danger from it of losing your reason, like the Thistle, Zeherit? I say again, give up your lonely way of life. You will be the better for it. How many women have you known, that you should take Dörtje for the handsomest of her sex? What maiden have you approached with love, that you should believe that Dörtje alone can love you? Go to, Peregrine; experience will show you better. You are a well-made, handsome man, and I should not be so keen-sighted, as Master Flea really is, if I could not see beforehand that love would smile upon you in a very different way from what you may expect.”
Peregrine had already broken the ice by going abroad in public places, and it was therefore the less difficult for him to visit societies, from which he had formerly withdrawn himself. In this Master Flea rendered him excellent service with his microscopic glass, and he is said during this time to have kept a daybook, and to have made notes of the most remarkable and pleasant contradictions between words and thoughts, as they daily occurred to him. Perhaps the editor of this strange tale, called Master Flea, may find some future opportunity of bringing to light many worthy impartments from this same daybook; here it would only stop the current of the history, and, therefore, would not be welcome to the reader. So much, however, may be said, that many of the phrases with the corresponding thoughts seemed to be stereotyped as it were; as for example, “Favour me with your advice,” the thought being, “He is fool enough to think I ask his advice in a matter that I have long since resolved upon, and that tickles him.” “I have the most perfect confidence in you,” the thought being, “I knew long ago that you were a scoundrel,” etc. It should also be mentioned that many folks mightily puzzled Peregrine with his microscopic observations. These were the young men,
