Parties of simple musicians began to pass each other continually--they were going to serenade the blessed Mary all night long.

As Antonia closed the balcony window, half a dozen of these young boys passed the garden hedge singing to the clacking of their castanets-- "This is the eve of Christmas, No sleep from night to morn, The Virgin is in travail, At twelve will the Child be born." Luis appeared at the same moment.

He caught up the wild melody and came up the garden path singing it.

Dare and the doctor followed him.

It struck Antonia that they were talking of a change, or of something important.