As the amazed children received their gifts, they fell respectfully
back, as if they had received an order to give place to their
companions, and others came forward, open mouthed, large eyed, ready to
fall upon their knees if but one of their number should set an example.
Still there were toys left, toys in abundance; the wondrous benefactors
passed slowly on, always going up, up into the huddled village
streets--tunnelled in rock or arched with stone, where eager, astonished
faces peered from the mystery of shadowed doorways, and the hum of joy
and admiration swelled to a sound like the murmur of the sea.
Of grown folk there were not many. A few mothers with brown babies in
their arms; a few mumbling crones, and bent old men with faces like
strange masks; but the flow of children never ceased.
As the children of Hamlin followed the Pied Piper to the sea, so the
black browed children of Eze followed the Christmas visitors from
crooked street to crooked street, up to the castle ruins and back again.
They did not shout as they took their gifts; but still the murmur ran
from mouth to mouth: "Bella Madonna, bella Madonna.
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