Placing the nest beside them in the cage, he carried it to the garden of
the Duchess. He arrived there toward evening, and was hospitably
received by the gardener, who had been fully acquainted with the idea.
Adjoining the villa was a large tract of land, well wooded, which was
beautifully laid out with garden plots, pebbly, shaded paths,
vine-covered bowers and rustic seats. In one corner of the garden there
stood an odd little thatch-covered arbor, nestling between high rocks in
the shadow of the tall trees. A brook which fell in foaming whiteness
flowed past this little nook, clear as crystal, and made the stillness
fascinating by its intermittent murmuring. This spot the Duchess loved
well, and many hours of the day she spent here.
Scarcely a hundred feet distant, there stood a willow tree closely
resembling the late home of the caged nightingales. The boy had chosen
this tree and had prepared a place for the nest on a forked branch. He
went there late one evening, as the moon was shining brightly, and
placed the nest securely on this tree; then he gave the parent birds
their freedom.
The next morning, the boy returned to the spot and hid himself in the
thick shrubbery, to see whether the birds would feed their young, who
were loudly crying for food. In a little while the parent birds returned
and fed them.
"Now I have triumphed," said Michael; and he hurried to the villa to
carry to Alfred the welcome news that in a few days the nightingales
would be singing their song in his garden.
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