diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-8.txt | 2506 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 43655 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 3945165 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/29481-h.htm | 3578 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo1-th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 106540 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo1.jpg | bin | 0 -> 495237 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo2-th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 101879 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo2.jpg | bin | 0 -> 475872 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo3-th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 70659 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo3.jpg | bin | 0 -> 407389 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo4-th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 104155 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo4.jpg | bin | 0 -> 496132 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo5-th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 116724 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo5.jpg | bin | 0 -> 548010 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo6-th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 100111 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo6.jpg | bin | 0 -> 459237 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo7-th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 90314 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481-h/images/illo7.jpg | bin | 0 -> 413260 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481.txt | 2506 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29481.zip | bin | 0 -> 43652 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
23 files changed, 8606 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29481-8.txt b/29481-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f551ab3 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2506 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Fifth String, by John Philip Sousa, +Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Fifth String + + +Author: John Philip Sousa + + + +Release Date: July 22, 2009 [eBook #29481] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIFTH STRING*** + + +E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 29481-h.htm or 29481-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29481/29481-h/29481-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29481/29481-h.zip) + + + + + +[Illustration] + +THE FIFTH STRING + +by + +JOHN PHILIP SOUSA + +The Illustrations by Howard Chandler Christy + + + + + + + +Indianapolis +The Bowen-Merrill Company +Publishers + +Copyright 1902 +The Bowen-Merrill Company + +Press of +Braunworth & Co. +Bookbinders and Printers +Brooklyn, N. Y. + + + + +_The Fifth String_ + + + + +I + + +The coming of Diotti to America had awakened more than usual interest +in the man and his work. His marvelous success as violinist in the +leading capitals of Europe, together with many brilliant contributions +to the literature of his instrument, had long been favorably commented +on by the critics of the old world. Many stories of his struggles and +his triumphs had found their way across the ocean and had been read +and re-read with interest. + +Therefore, when Mr. Henry Perkins, the well-known impresario, +announced with an air of conscious pride and pardonable enthusiasm +that he had secured Diotti for a "limited" number of concerts, +Perkins' friends assured that wide-awake gentleman that his foresight +amounted to positive genius, and they predicted an unparalleled +success for his star. On account of his wonderful ability as player, +Diotti was a favorite at half the courts of Europe, and the astute +Perkins enlarged upon this fact without regard for the feelings of the +courts or the violinist. + +On the night preceding Diotti's début in New York, he was the center +of attraction at a reception given by Mrs. Llewellyn, a social leader, +and a devoted patron of the arts. The violinist made a deep impression +on those fortunate enough to be near him during the evening. He won +the respect of the men by his observations on matters of international +interest, and the admiration of the gentler sex by his chivalric +estimate of woman's influence in the world's progress, on which +subject he talked with rarest good humor and delicately implied +gallantry. + +During one of those sudden and unexplainable lulls that always occur +in general drawing-room conversations, Diotti turned to Mrs. Llewellyn +and whispered: "Who is the charming young woman just entering?" + +"The beauty in white?" + +"Yes, the beauty in white," softly echoing Mrs. Llewellyn's query. He +leaned forward and with eager eyes gazed in admiration at the +new-comer. He seemed hypnotized by the vision, which moved slowly from +between the blue-tinted portières and stood for the instant, a perfect +embodiment of radiant womanhood, silhouetted against the silken +drapery. + +"That is Miss Wallace, Miss Mildred Wallace, only child of one of New +York's prominent bankers." + +"She is beautiful--a queen by divine right," cried he, and then with a +mingling of impetuosity and importunity, entreated his hostess to +present him. + +And thus they met. + +Mrs. Llewellyn's entertainments were celebrated, and justly so. At her +receptions one always heard the best singers and players of the +season, and Epicurus' soul could rest in peace, for her chef had an +international reputation. Oh, remember, you music-fed ascetic, many, +aye, very many, regard the transition from Tschaikowsky to terrapin, +from Beethoven to burgundy with hearts aflame with anticipatory +joy--and Mrs. Llewellyn's dining-room was crowded. + +Miss Wallace and Diotti had wandered into the conservatory. + +"A desire for happiness is our common heritage," he was saying in his +richly melodious voice. + +"But to define what constitutes happiness is very difficult," she +replied. + +"Not necessarily," he went on; "if the motive is clearly within our +grasp, the attainment is possible." + +"For example?" she asked. + +"The miser is happy when he hoards his gold; the philanthropist when +he distributes his. The attainment is identical, but the motives are +antipodal." + +"Then one possessing sufficient motives could be happy without end?" +she suggested doubtingly. + +"That is my theory. The Niobe of old had happiness within her power." + +"The gods thought not," said she; "in their very pity they changed her +into stone, and with streaming eyes she ever tells the story of her +sorrow." + +"But are her children weeping?" he asked. "I think not. Happiness can +bloom from the seeds of deepest woe," and in a tone almost +reverential, he continued: "I remember a picture in one of our Italian +galleries that always impressed me as the ideal image of maternal +happiness. It is a painting of the Christ-mother standing by the body +of the Crucified. Beauty was still hers, and the dress of grayish hue, +nun-like in its simplicity, seemed more than royal robe. Her face, +illumined as with a light from heaven, seemed inspired with this +thought: 'They have killed Him--they have killed my son! Oh, God, I +thank Thee that His suffering is at an end!' And as I gazed at the +holy face, another light seemed to change it by degrees from saddened +motherhood to triumphant woman! Then came: 'He is not dead, He but +sleeps; He will rise again, for He is the best beloved of the +Father!'" + +"Still, fate can rob us of our patrimony," she replied, after a pause. + +"Not while life is here and eternity beyond," he said, reassuringly. + +"What if a soul lies dormant and will not arouse?" she asked. + +"There are souls that have no motive low enough for earth, but only +high enough for heaven," he said, with evident intention, looking +almost directly at her. + +"Then one must come who speaks in nature's tongue," she continued. + +"And the soul will then awake," he added earnestly. + +"But is there such a one?" she asked. + +"Perhaps," he almost whispered, his thought father to the wish. + +"I am afraid not," she sighed. "I studied drawing, worked diligently +and, I hope, intelligently, and yet I was quickly convinced that a +counterfeit presentment of nature was puny and insignificant. I +painted Niagara. My friends praised my effort. I saw Niagara again--I +destroyed the picture." + +"But you must be prepared to accept the limitations of man and his +work," said the philosophical violinist. + +"Annihilation of one's own identity in the moment is possible in +nature's domain--never in man's. The resistless, never-ending rush of +the waters, madly churning, pitilessly dashing against the rocks +below; the mighty roar of the loosened giant; that was Niagara. My +picture seemed but a smear of paint." + +[Illustration] + +"Still, man has won the admiration of man by his achievements," he +said. + +"Alas, for me," she sighed, "I have not felt it." + +"Surely you have been stirred by the wonders man has accomplished in +music's realm?" Diotti ventured. + +"I never have been." She spoke sadly and reflectively. + +"But does not the passion-laden theme of a master, or the marvelous +feeling of a player awaken your emotions?" persisted he. + +She stood leaning lightly against a pillar by the fountain. "I never +hear a pianist, however great and famous, but I see the little +cream-colored hammers within the piano bobbing up and down like +acrobatic brownies. I never hear the plaudits of the crowd for the +artist and watch him return to bow his thanks, but I mentally demand +that these little acrobats, each resting on an individual pedestal, +and weary from his efforts, shall appear to receive a share of the +applause. + +"When I listen to a great singer," continued this world-defying +skeptic, "trilling like a thrush, scampering over the scales, I see a +clumsy lot of ah, ah, ahs, awkwardly, uncertainly ambling up the +gamut, saying, 'were it not for us she could not sing thus--give us +our meed of praise.'" + +Slowly he replied: "Masters have written in wondrous language and +masters have played with wondrous power." + +"And I so long to hear," she said, almost plaintively. "I marvel at +the invention of the composer and the skill of the player, but there I +cease." + +He looked at her intently. She was standing before him, not a block of +chiseled ice, but a beautiful, breathing woman. He offered her his arm +and together they made their way to the drawing-room. + +"Perhaps, some day, one will come who can sing a song of perfect love +in perfect tones, and your soul will be attuned to his melody." + +"Perhaps--and good-night," she softly said, leaving his arm and +joining her friends, who accompanied her to the carriage. + +[Illustration: ACADEMY _of_ MUSIC + DECEMBER 12TH--8:00 P. M. + + FIRST APPEARANCE IN AMERICA OF + THE RENOWNED TUSCAN + VIOLINIST + + ANGELO + DIOTTI + + ASSISTED BY + + ARTISTS OF INTERNATIONAL + REPUTATION + + DIRECTION OF MR. HENRY PERKINS + + SECOND CONCERT OF SIGNOR DIOTTI + DECEMBER 14TH] + + + + +II + + +The intangible something that places the stamp of popular approval on +one musical enterprise, while another equally artistic and as cleverly +managed languishes in a condition of unendorsed greatness, remains one +of the unsolved mysteries. + +When a worker in the vineyard of music or the drama offers his +choicest tokay to the public, that fickle coquette may turn to the +more ordinary and less succulent concord. And the worker and the +public itself know not why. + +It is true, Diotti's fame had preceded him, but fame has preceded +others and has not always been proof against financial disaster. All +this preliminary,--and it is but necessary to recall that on the +evening of December the twelfth Diotti made his initial bow in New +York, to an audience that completely filled every available space in +the Academy of Music--a representative audience, distinguished alike +for beauty, wealth and discernment. + +When the violinist appeared for his solo, he quietly acknowledged the +cordial reception of the audience, and immediately proceeded with the +business of the evening. At a slight nod from him the conductor rapped +attention, then launched the orchestra into the introduction of the +concerto, Diotti's favorite, selected for the first number. As the +violinist turned to the conductor he faced slightly to the left and in +a direct line with the second proscenium box. His poise was admirable. +He was handsome, with the olive-tinted warmth of his southern +home--fairly tall, straight-limbed and lithe--a picture of poetic +grace. His was the face of a man who trusted without reserve, the +manner of one who believed implicitly, feeling that good was universal +and evil accidental. + +As the music grew louder and the orchestra approached the peroration +of the preface of the coming solo, the violinist raised his head +slowly. Suddenly his eyes met the gaze of the solitary occupant of the +second proscenium box. His face flushed. He looked inquiringly, almost +appealingly, at her. She sat immovable and serene, a lace-framed +vision in white. + +It was she who, since he had met her, only the night before, held his +very soul in thraldom. + +He lifted his bow, tenderly placing it on the strings. Faintly came +the first measures of the theme. The melody, noble, limpid and +beautiful, floated in dreamy sway over the vast auditorium, and seemed +to cast a mystic glamour over the player. As the final note of the +first movement was dying away, the audience, awakening from its +delicious trance, broke forth into spontaneous bravos. + +Mildred Wallace, scrutinizing the program, merely drew her wrap closer +about her shoulders and sat more erect. At the end of the concerto the +applause was generous enough to satisfy the most exacting _virtuoso_. +Diotti unquestionably had scored the greatest triumph of his career. +But the lady in the box had remained silent and unaffected throughout. + +The poor fellow had seen only her during the time he played, and the +mighty cheers that came from floor and galleries struck upon his ear +like the echoes of mocking demons. Leaving the stage he hurried to his +dressing-room and sank into a chair. He had persuaded himself she +should not be insensible to his genius, but the dying ashes of his +hopes, his dreams, were smouldering, and in his despair came the +thought: "I am not great enough for her. I am but a man; her consort +should be a god. Her soul, untouched by human passion or human skill, +demands the power of god-like genius to arouse it." + +Music lovers crowded into his dressing-room, enthusiastic in their +praises. Cards conveying delicate compliments written in delicate +chirography poured in upon him, but in vain he looked for some sign, +some word from her. + +Quickly he left the theater and sought his hotel. + +A menacing cloud obscured the wintry moon. A clock sounded the +midnight hour. + +He threw himself upon the bed and almost sobbed his thoughts, and +their burden was: + +"I am not great enough for her. I am but a man. I am but a man!" + + + + +III + + +Perkins called in the morning. Perkins was happy--Perkins was +positively joyous, and Perkins was self-satisfied. The violinist had +made a great hit. But Perkins, confiding in the white-coated dispenser +who concocted his _matin Martini_, very dry, an hour before, said he +regarded the success due as much to the management as to the artist. +And Perkins believed it. Perkins usually took all the credit for a +success, and with charming consistency placed all responsibility for +failure on the shoulders of the hapless artist. + +When Perkins entered Diotti's room he found the violinist heavy-eyed +and dejected. "My dear Signor," he began, showing a large envelope +bulging with newspaper clippings, "I have brought the notices. They +are quite the limit, I assure you. Nothing like them ever heard +before--all tuned in the same key, as you musical fellows would say," +and Perkins cocked his eye. + +Perkins enjoyed a glorious reputation with himself for bright sayings, +which he always accompanied with a cock of the eye. The musician not +showing any visible appreciation of the manager's metaphor, Perkins +immediately proceeded to uncock his eye. + +"Passed the box-office coming up," continued this voluble enlightener; +"nothing left but a few seats in the top gallery. We'll stand them on +their heads to-morrow night--see if we don't." Then he handed the +bursting envelope of notices to Diotti, who listlessly put them on the +table at his side. + +"Too tired to read, eh?" said Perkins, and then with the advance-agent +instinct strong within him he selected a clipping, and touching the +violinist on the shoulder: "Let me read this one to you. It is by Herr +Totenkellar. He is a hard nut to crack, but he did himself proud this +time. Great critic when he wants to be." + +Perkins cleared his throat and began: "Diotti combines tremendous +feeling with equally tremendous technique. The entire audience was +under the witchery of his art." Diotti slowly negatived that statement +with bowed head. "His tone is full, round and clear; his +interpretation lends a story-telling charm to the music; for, while we +drank deep at the fountain of exquisite melody, we saw sparkling +within the waters the lights of Paradise. New York never has heard his +equal. He stands alone, pre-eminent, an artistic giant." + +"Now, that's what I call great," said the impresario, dramatically; +"when you hit Totenkellar that way you are good for all kinds of +money." + +Perkins took his hat and cane and moved toward the door. The violinist +arose and extended his hand wearily. "Good-day" came simultaneously; +then "I'm off. We'll turn 'em away to-morrow; see if we don't!" +Whereupon Perkins left Diotti alone in his misery. + + + + +IV + + +It was the evening of the fourteenth. In front of the Academy a +strong-lunged and insistent tribe of gentry, known as ticket +speculators, were reaping a rich harvest. They represented a beacon +light of hope to many tardy patrons of the evening's entertainment, +especially to the man who had forgotten his wife's injunction "to be +sure to buy the tickets on the way down town, dear, and get them in +the family circle, not too far back." This man's intentions were +sincere, but his newspaper was unusually interesting that morning. He +was deeply engrossed in an article on the causes leading to +matrimonial infelicities when his 'bus passed the Academy box-office. + +He was six blocks farther down town when he finished the article, only +to find that it was a carefully worded advertisement for a new patent +medicine, and of course he had not time to return. "Oh, well," said +he, "I'll get them when I go up town to-night." + +But he did not. So with fear in his heart and a red-faced woman on his +arm he approached the box-office. "Not a seat left," sounded to his +hen-pecked ears like the concluding words of the black-robed judge: +"and may the Lord have mercy upon your soul." But a reprieve came, for +one of the aforesaid beacon lights of hope rushed forward, saying: "I +have two good seats, not far back, and only ten apiece." And the +gentleman with fear in his heart and the red-faced woman on his arm +passed in. + +They saw the largest crowd in the history of the Academy. Every seat +was occupied, every foot of standing room taken. Chairs were placed in +the side aisles. The programs announced that it was the second +appearance in America of Angelo Diotti, the renowned Tuscan violinist. + +The orchestra had perfunctorily ground out the overture to "Der +Freischuetz," the baritone had stentorianly emitted "Dio Possente," +the soprano was working her way through the closing measures of the +mad scene from "Lucia," and Diotti was number four on the program. The +conductor stood beside his platform, ready to ascend as Diotti +appeared. + +The audience, ever ready to act when those on the stage cease that +occupation, gave a splendid imitation of the historic last scene at +the Tower of Babel. Having accomplished this to its evident +satisfaction, the audience proceeded, like the closing phrase of the +"Goetterdaemmerung" Dead March, to become exceedingly quiet--then +expectant. + +This expectancy lasted fully three minutes. Then there were some +impatient handclappings. A few persons whispered: "Why is he late?" +"Why doesn't he come?" "I wonder where Diotti is," and then came +unmistakable signs of impatience. At its height Perkins appeared, +hesitatingly. Nervous and jerky he walked to the center of the stage, +and raised his hand begging silence. The audience was stilled. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he falteringly said, "Signor Diotti left his +hotel at seven o'clock and was driven to the Academy. The call-boy +rapped at his dressing-room, and not receiving a reply, opened the +door to find the room empty. We have despatched searchers in every +direction and have sent out a police alarm. We fear some accident has +befallen the Signor. We ask your indulgence for the keen +disappointment, and beg to say that your money will be refunded at the +box-office." + +Diotti had disappeared as completely as though the earth had swallowed +him. + + + + +V + + +My dearest sister: You doubtless were exceedingly mystified and +troubled over the report that was flashed to Europe regarding my +sudden disappearance on the eve of my second concert in New York. + +Fearing, sweet Francesca, that you might mourn me as dead, I sent the +cablegram you received some weeks since, telling you to be of good +heart and await my letter. To make my action thoroughly understood I +must give you a record of what happened to me from the first day I +arrived in America. I found a great interest manifested in my +première, and socially everything was done to make me happy. + +Mrs. James Llewellyn, whom, you no doubt remember, we met in Florence +the winter of 18--, immediately after I reached New York arranged a +reception for me, which was elegant in the extreme. But from that +night dates my misery. + +You ask her name?--Mildred Wallace. Tell me what she is like, I hear +you say. Of graceful height, willowy and exquisitely molded, not over +twenty-four, with the face of a Madonna; wondrous eyes of darkest +blue, hair indescribable in its maze of tawny color--in a word, the +perfection of womanhood. In half an hour I was her abject slave, and +proud in my serfdom. When I returned to the hotel that evening I could +not sleep. Her image ever was before me, elusive and shadowy. And yet +we seemed to grow farther and farther apart--she nearer heaven, I +nearer earth. + +The next evening I gave my first and what I fear may prove my last +concert in America. The vision of my dreams was there, radiant in +rarest beauty. Singularly enough, she was in the direct line of my +vision while I played. I saw only her, played but for her, and cast my +soul at her feet. She sat indifferent and silent. "Cold?" you say. No! +No! Francesca, not cold; superior to my poor efforts. I realized my +limitations. I questioned my genius. When I returned to bow my +acknowledgments for the most generous applause I have ever received, +there was no sign on her part that I had interested her, either +through my talent or by appeal to her curiosity. I hoped against hope +that some word might come from her, but I was doomed to +disappointment. The critics were fulsome in their praise and the +public was lavish with its plaudits, but I was abjectly miserable. +Another sleepless night and I was determined to see her. She received +me most graciously, although I fear she thought my visit one of +vanity--wounded vanity--and me petulant because of her lack of +appreciation. + +Oh, sister mine, I knew better. I knew my heart craved one word, +however matter-of-fact, that would rekindle the hope that was dying +within me. + +Hesitatingly, and like a clumsy yokel, I blurted: "I have been +wondering whether you cared for the performance I gave?" + +"It certainly ought to make little difference to you," she replied; +"the public was enthusiastic enough in its endorsement." + +"But I want your opinion," I pleaded. + +"My opinion would not at all affect the almost unanimous verdict," she +replied calmly. + +"And," I urged desperately, "you were not affected in the least?" + +Very coldly she answered, "Not in the least;" and then fearlessly, +like a princess in the Palace of Truth: "If ever a man comes who can +awaken my heart, frankly and honestly I will confess it." + +"Perhaps such a one lives," I said, "but has yet to reach the height +to win you--your--" + +"Speak it," she said, "to win my love!" + +"Yes," I cried, startled at her candor, "to win your love." Hope +slowly rekindled within my breast, and then with half-closed eyes, and +wooingly, she said: + +"No drooping Clytie could be more constant than I to him who strikes +the chord that is responsive in my soul." + +Her emotion must have surprised her, but immediately she regained her +placidity and reverted no more to the subject. + +I went out into the gathering gloom. Her words haunted me. A strange +feeling came over me. A voice within me cried: "Do not play to-night. +Study! study! Perhaps in the full fruition of your genius your music, +like the warm western wind to the harp, may bring life to her soul." + +I fled, and I am here. I am delving deeper and deeper into the +mysteries of my art, and I pray God each hour that He may place within +my grasp the wondrous music His blessed angels sing, for the soul of +her I love is attuned to the harmonies of heaven. + + Your affectionate brother, + ANGELO. + ISLAND OF BAHAMA, January 2. + + + + +VI + + +When Diotti left New York so precipitately he took passage on a coast +line steamer sailing for the Bahama Islands. Once there, he leased a +small _cay_, one of a group off the main land, and lived alone and +unattended, save for the weekly visits of an old fisherman and his +son, who brought supplies of provisions from the town miles away. His +dwelling-place, surrounded with palmetto trees, was little more than a +rough shelter. Diotti arose at daylight, and after a simple repast, +betook himself to practise. Hour after hour he would let his muse run +riot with his fingers. Lovingly he wooed the strings with plaintive +song, then conquering and triumphant would be his theme. But neither +satisfied him. The vague dream of a melody more beautiful than ever +man had heard dwelt hauntingly on the borders of his imagination, but +was no nearer realization than when he began. As the day's work +closed, he wearily placed the violin within its case, murmuring, "Not +yet, not yet; I have not found it." + +Days passed, weeks crept slowly on; still he worked, but always with +the same result. One day, feverish and excited, he played on in +monotone almost listless. His tired, over-wrought brain denied a +further thought. His arm and fingers refused response to his will. +With an uncontrollable outburst of grief and anger he dashed the +violin to the floor, where it lay a hopeless wreck. Extending his arms +he cried, in the agony of despair: "It is of no use! If the God of +heaven will not aid me, I ask the prince of darkness to come." + +A tall, rather spare, but well-made and handsome man appeared at the +door of the hut. His manner was that of one evidently conversant with +the usages of good society. + +"I beg pardon," said the musician, surprised and visibly nettled at +the intrusion, and then with forced politeness he asked: "To whom am I +indebted for this unexpected visit?" + +"Allow me," said the stranger taking a card from his case and handing +it to the musician, who read: "Satan," and, in the lower left-hand +corner, "Prince of Darkness." + +"I am the Prince," said the stranger, bowing low. + +There was no hint of the pavement-made ruler in the information he +gave, but rather of the desire of one gentleman to set another right +at the beginning. The musician assumed a position of open-mouthed +wonder, gazing steadily at the visitor. + +"Satan?" he whispered hoarsely. + +"You need help and advice," said the visitor, his voice sounding like +that of a disciple of the healing art, and implying that he had +thoroughly diagnosed the case. + +"No, no," cried the shuddering violinist; "go away. I do not need +you." + +"I regret I can not accept that statement as gospel truth," said +Satan, sarcastically, "for if ever a man needed help, you are that +man." + +"But not from you," replied Diotti. + +"That statement is discredited also by your outburst of a few moments +ago when you called upon me." + +"I do not need you," reiterated the musician. "I will have none of +you!" and he waved his arm toward the door, as if he desired the +interview to end. + +"I came at your behest, actuated entirely by kindness of heart," said +Satan. + +Diotti laughed derisively, and Satan, showing just the slightest +feeling at Diotti's behavior, said reprovingly: "If you will listen a +moment, and not be so rude to an utter stranger, we may reach some +conclusion to your benefit." + +"Get thee behind--" + +"I know exactly what you were about to say. Have no fears on that +score. I have no demands to make and no impossible compacts to insist +upon." + +"I have heard of you before," knowingly spoke the violinist, nodding +his head sadly. + +"No doubt you have," smilingly. "My reputation, which has suffered at +the hands of irresponsible people, is not of the best, and places me +at times in awkward positions. But I am beginning to live it down." +The stranger looked contrition itself. "To prove my sincerity I desire +to help you win her love," emphasizing her. + +"How can you help me?" + +"Very easily. You have been wasting time, energy and health in a wild +desire to play better. The trouble lies not with you." + +"Not with me?" interrupted the violinist, now thoroughly interested. + +"The trouble lies not with you," repeated the visitor, "but with the +miserable violin you have been using and have just destroyed," and he +pointed to the shattered instrument. + +Tears welled from the poor violinist's eyes as he gazed on the +fragments of his beloved violin, the pieces lying scattered about as +the result of his unfortunate anger. + +"It was a Stradivarius," said Diotti, sadly. + +"Had it been a Stradivarius, an Amati or a Guarnerius, or a host of +others rolled into one, you would not have found in it the melody to +win the heart of the woman you love. Get a better and more suitable +instrument." + +"Where is one?" earnestly interrogated Diotti, vaguely realizing that +Satan knew. + +"In my possession," Satan replied. + +"She would hate me if she knew I had recourse to the powers of +darkness to gain her love," bitterly interposed Diotti. + +Satan, wincing at this uncomplimentary allusion to himself, replied +rather warmly: "My dear sir, were it not for the fact that I feel in +particularly good spirits this morning, I should resent your ill-timed +remarks and leave you to end your miserable existence with rope or +pistol," and Satan pantomimed both suicidal contingencies. + +"Do you want the violin or not?" + +"I might look at it," said Diotti, resolving mentally that he could go +so far without harm. + +"Very well," said Satan. He gave a long whistle. + +An old man, bearing a violin case, came within the room. He bowed to +the wondering Diotti, and proceeded to open the case. Taking the +instrument out the old man fondled it with loving and tender +solicitude, pointing out its many beauties--the exquisite blending of +the curves, the evenness of the grain, the peculiar coloring, the +lovely contour of the neck, the graceful outlines of the body, the +scroll, rivaling the creations of the ancient sculptors, the solidity +of the bridge and its elegantly carved heart, and, waxing exceedingly +enthusiastic, holding up the instrument and looking at it as one does +at a cluster of gems, he added, "the adjustment of the strings." + +"That will do," interrupted Satan, taking the violin from the little +man, who bowed low and ceremoniously took his departure. Then the +devil, pointing to the instrument, asked: "Isn't it a beauty?" + +The musician, eying it keenly, replied: "Yes, it is, but not the kind +of violin I play on." + +[Illustration] + +"Oh, I see," carelessly observed the other, "you refer to that extra +string." + +"Yes," answered the puzzled violinist, examining it closely. + +"Allow me to explain the peculiar characteristics of this magnificent +instrument," said his satanic majesty. "This string," pointing to the +G, "is the string of pity; this one," referring to the third, "is the +string of hope; this," plunking the A, "is attuned to love, while this +one, the E string, gives forth sounds of joy. + +"You will observe," went on the visitor, noting the intense interest +displayed by the violinist, "that the position of the strings is the +same as on any other violin, and therefore will require no additional +study on your part." + +"But that extra string?" interrupted Diotti, designating the middle +one on the violin, a vague foreboding rising within him. + +"That," said Mephistopheles, solemnly, and with no pretense of +sophistry, "is the string of death, and he who plays upon it dies at +once." + +"The--string--of--death!" repeated the violinist almost inaudibly. + +"Yes, the string of death," Satan repeated, "and he who plays upon it +dies at once. But," he added cheerfully, "that need not worry you. I +noticed a marvelous facility in your arm work. Your staccato and +spiccato are wonderful. Every form of bowing appears child's play to +you. It will be easy for you to avoid touching the string." + +"Why avoid it? Can it not be cut off?" + +"Ah, that's the rub. If you examine the violin closely you will find +that the string of death is made up of the extra lengths of the other +four strings. To cut it off would destroy the others, and then pity, +hope, love and joy would cease to exist in the soul of the violin." + +"How like life itself," Diotti reflected, "pity, hope, love, joy end +in death, and through death they are born again." + +"That's the idea, precisely," said Satan, evidently relieved by +Diotti's logic and quick perception. + +The violinist examined the instrument with the practised eye of an +expert, and turning to Satan said: "The four strings are beautifully +white and transparent, but this one is black and odd looking. + +"What is it wrapped with?" eagerly inquired Diotti, examining the +death string with microscopic care. + +"The fifth string was added after an unfortunate episode in the Garden +of Eden, in which I was somewhat concerned," said Satan, soberly. "It +is wrapped with strands of hair from the first mother of man." +Impressively then he offered the violin to Diotti. + +"I dare not take it," said the perplexed musician; "it's from--" + +"Yes, it is directly from there, but I brought it from heaven when +I--I left," said the fallen angel, with remorse in his voice. "It was +my constant companion there. But no one in my domain--not I, +myself--can play upon it now, for it will respond neither to our +longing for pity, hope, love, joy, nor even death," and sadly and +retrospectively Satan gazed into vacancy; then, after a long pause: +"Try the instrument!" + +Diotti placed the violin in position and drew the bow across the +string of joy, improvising on it. Almost instantly the birds of the +forest darted hither and thither, caroling forth in gladsome strains. +The devil alone was sad, and with emotion said: + +"It is many, many years since I have heard that string." + +Next the artist changed to the string of pity, and thoughts of the +world's sorrows came over him like a pall. + +"Wonderful, most wonderful!" said the mystified violinist; "with this +instrument I can conquer the world!" + +"Aye, more to you than the world," said the tempter, "a woman's love." + +A woman's love--to the despairing suitor there was one and only one in +this wide, wide world, and her words, burning their way into his +heart, had made this temptation possible: "No drooping Clytie could be +more constant than I to him who strikes the chord that is responsive +in my soul." + +Holding the violin aloft, he cried exultingly: "Henceforth thou art +mine, though death and oblivion lurk ever near thee!" + + + + +VII + + +Perkins, seated in his office, threw the morning, paper aside. "It's +no use," he said, turning to the office boy, "I don't believe they +ever will find him, dead or alive. Whoever put up the job on Diotti +was a past grand master at that sort of thing. The silent assassin +that lurks in the shadow of the midnight moon is an explosion of +dynamite compared to the party that made way with Diotti. You ask, why +should they kill him? My boy, you don't know the world. They were +jealous of his enormous hit, of our dazzling success. Jealousy did +it." + +The "they" of Perkins comprised rival managers, rival artists, +newspaper critics and everybody at large who would not concede that +the attractions managed by Perkins were the "greatest on earth." + +"We'll never see his like again--come in!" this last in answer to a +knock. + +Diotti appeared at the open door. Perkins jumped like one shot from a +catapult, and rushing toward the silent figure in the doorway +exclaimed: "Bless my soul, are you a ghost?" + +"A substantial one," said Diotti with a smile. + +"Are you really here?" continued the astonished impresario, using +Diotti's arm as a pump handle and pinching him at the same time. + +When they were seated Perkins plied Diotti with all manner of +questions: "How did it happen?" "How did you escape?" and the like, +all of which Diotti parried with monosyllabic replies, finally saying: +"I was dissatisfied with my playing and went away to study." + +"Do you know that the failure to fulfill your contract has cost me at +least ten thousand dollars?" said the shrewd manager, the commercial +side of his nature asserting itself. + +"All of which I will pay," quietly replied the artist. "Besides I am +ready to play now, and you can announce a concert within a week if you +like." + +"If I like?" cried the hustling Perkins. "Here, James," calling his +office boy, "run down to the printer's and give him this," making a +note of the various sizes of "paper" he desired, "and tell Mr. +Tompkins that Diotti is back and will give a concert next Tuesday. +Tell Smith to prepare the newspaper 'ads' and notices immediately." + +In an hour Perkins had the entire machinery of his office in motion. +Within twenty-four hours New York had several versions of the +disappearance and return, all leading to one common point--that Diotti +would give a concert the coming Tuesday evening. + +The announcement of the reappearance of the Tuscan contained a line to +the effect that the violinist would play for the first time his new +suite--a meditation on the emotions. + +He had not seen Mildred. + +As he came upon the stage that night the lights were turned low, and +naught but the shadowy outlines of player and violin were seen. His +reception by the audience was not enthusiastic. They evidently +remembered the disappointment caused by his unexpected disappearance, +but this unfriendly attitude soon gave way to evidences of kindlier +feelings. + +Mildred was there, more beautiful than ever, and to gain her love +Diotti would have bartered his soul that moment. + +The first movement of the suite was entitled "Pity," and the music +flowed like melodious tears. A subdued sob rose and fell with the +sadness of the theme. + +Mildred's eyes were moistened as she fixed them on the lone figure of +the player. + +Now the theme of pity changed to hope, and hearts grew brighter under +the spell. The next movement depicted joy. As the _virtuoso's_ fingers +darted here and there, his music seemed the very laughter of fairy +voices, the earth looked roses and sunshine, and Mildred, relaxing her +position and leaning forward in the box, with lips slightly parted, +was the picture of eager happiness. + +The final movement came. Its subject was love. The introduction +depicted the Arcadian beauty of the trysting place, love-lit eyes +sought each other intuitively and a great peace brooded over the +hearts of all. Then followed the song of the Passionate Pilgrim: + + "_If music and sweet poetry agree, + As they must needs, the sister and the brother, + Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me + Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other._ + + * * * * * + + _Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound + That Phoebus' lute (the queen of music) makes; + And I in deep delight, am chiefly drown'd + When as himself to singing he betakes. + One god is god of both, as poets feign, + One knight loves both, and both in thee remain._" + +[Illustration: He took her hand reverently] + +Grander and grander the melody rose, voicing love's triumph with +wondrous sweetness and palpitating rhythm. Mildred, her face flushed +with excitement, a heavenly fire in her eyes and in an attitude of +supplication, reveled in the glory of a new found emotion. + +As the violinist concluded his performance an oppressive silence +pervaded the house, then the audience, wild with excitement, burst +into thunders of applause. In his dressing-room Diotti was besieged by +hosts of people, congratulating him in extravagant terms. + +Mildred Wallace came, extending her hands. He took them almost +reverently. She looked into his eyes, and he knew he had struck the +chord responsive in her soul. + + + + +VIII + + +The sun was high in the heavens when the violinist awoke. A great +weight had been lifted from his heart; he had passed from darkness +into dawn. + +A messenger brought him this note: + + _My Dear Signor Diotti--I am at home this afternoon, and shall + be delighted to see you and return my thanks for the exquisite + pleasure you gave me last evening. Music, such as yours, is + indeed the voice of heaven._ + + _Sincerely, + Mildred Wallace._ + +The messenger returned with this reply: + + _My Dear Miss Wallace--I will call at three to-day._ + + _Gratefully, + Angelo Diotti._ + +He watched the hour drag from eleven to twelve, then counted the +minutes to one, and from that time until he left the hotel each second +was tabulated in his mind. Arriving at her residence, he was ushered +into the drawing-room. It was fragrant with the perfume of violets, +and he stood gazing at her portrait expectant of her coming. + +Dressed in simple white, entrancing in her youthful freshness, she +entered, her face glowing with happiness, her eyes languorous and +expressive. She hastened to him, offering both hands. He held them in +a loving, tender grasp, and for a moment neither spoke. Then she, +gazing clearly and fearlessly into his eyes, said: "My heart has found +its melody!" + +He, kneeling like Sir Gareth of old: "The song and the singer are +yours forever." + +She, bidding him arise: "And I forever yours." And wondering at her +boldness, she added, "I know and feel that you love me--your eyes +confirmed your love before you spoke." Then, convincingly and +ingenuously, "I knew you loved me the moment we first met. Then I did +not understand what that meant to you, now I do." + +He drew her gently to him, and the motive of their happiness was +defined in sweet confessions: "My love, my life--My life, my love." + +The magic of his music had changed her very being, the breath of love +was in her soul, the vision of love was dancing in her eyes. The child +of marble, like the statue of old, had come to life: + + "_And not long since + I was a cold, dull stone! I recollect + That by some means I knew that I was stone; + That was the first dull gleam of consciousness; + I became conscious of a chilly self, + A cold, immovable identity. + I knew that I was stone, and knew no more! + Then, by an imperceptible advance, + Came the dim evidence of outer things, + Seen--darkly and imperfectly--yet seen + The walls surrounding me, and I, alone. + That pedestal--that curtain--then a voice + That called on Galatea! At that word, + Which seemed to shake my marble to the core, + That which was dim before, came evident. + Sounds, that had hummed around me, indistinct, + Vague, meaningless--seemed to resolve themselves + Into a language I could understand; + I felt my frame pervaded by a glow + That seemed to thaw my marble into flesh; + Its cold, hard substance throbbed with active life, + My limbs grew supple, and I moved--I lived! + Lived in the ecstasy of a new-born life! + Lived in the love of him that fashioned me! + Lived in a thousand tangled thoughts of hope._" + +Day after day he came; they told their love, their hopes, their +ambitions. She assumed absolute proprietorship in him. She gloried in +her possession. + +He was born into the world, nurtured in infancy, trained in childhood +and matured into manhood, for one express purpose--to be hers alone. +Her ownership ranged from absolute despotism to humble slavery, and he +was happy through it all. + +One day she said: "Angelo, is it your purpose to follow your +profession always?" + +"Necessarily, it is my livelihood," he replied. + +"But do you not think that after we stand at the altar, we never +should be separated?" + +"We will be together always," said he, holding her face between his +palms, and looking with tender expression into her inquiring eyes. + +"But I notice that women cluster around you after your concerts--and +shake your hand longer than they should--and talk to you longer than +they should--and go away looking self-satisfied!" she replied +brokenly, much as a little girl tells of the theft of her doll. + +"Nonsense," he said, smiling, "that is all part of my profession; it +is not me they care for, it is the music I give that makes them happy. +If, in my playing, I achieve results out of the common, they admire +me!" and he kissed away the unwelcome tears. + +"I know," she continued, "but lately, since we have loved each other, +I can not bear to see a woman near you. In my dreams again and again +an indefinable shadow mockingly comes and cries to me, 'he is not to +be yours, he is to be mine.'" + +Diotti flushed and drew her to him. "Darling," his voice carrying +conviction, "I am yours, you are mine, all in all, in life here and +beyond!" And as she sat dreaming after he had gone, she murmured +petulantly, "I wish there were no other women in the world." + +Her father was expected from Europe on the succeeding day's steamer. +Mr. Wallace was a busy man. The various gigantic enterprises he served +as president or director occupied most of his time. He had been absent +in Europe for several months, and Mildred was anxiously awaiting his +return to tell him of her love. + +When Mr. Wallace came to his residence the next morning, his daughter +met him with a fond display of filial affection; they walked into the +drawing-room, hand in hand; he saw a picture of the violinist on the +piano. "Who's the handsome young fellow?" he asked, looking at the +portrait with the satisfaction a man feels when he sees a splendid +type of his own sex. + +"That is Angelo Diotti, the famous violinist," she said, but she could +not add another word. + +As they strolled through the rooms he noticed no less than three +likenesses of the Tuscan. And as they passed her room he saw still +another on the _chiffonnier_. + +"Seems to me the house is running wild with photographs of that +fiddler," he said. + +For the first time in her life she was self-conscious: "I will wait +for a more opportune time to tell him," she thought. + +In the scheme of Diotti's appearance in New York there were to be two +more concerts. One was to be given that evening. Mildred coaxed her +father to accompany her to hear the violinist. Mr. Wallace was not +fond of music; "it had been knocked out of him on the farm up in +Vermont, when he was a boy," he would apologetically explain, and +besides he had the old puritanical abhorrence of stage people--putting +them all in one class--as puppets who danced or played or talked for +an idle and unthinking public. + +So it was with the thought of a wasted evening that he accompanied +Mildred to the concert. + +The entertainment was a repetition of the others Diotti had given, and +at its end, Mildred said to her father: "Come, I want to congratulate +Signor Diotti in person." + +"That is entirely unnecessary," he replied. + +"It is my desire," and the girl led the unwilling parent back of the +scenes and into Diotti's dressing-room. + +Mildred introduced Diotti to her father, who after a few commonplaces +lapsed into silence. The daughter's enthusiastic interest in Diotti's +performance and her tender solicitude for his weariness after the +efforts of the evening, quickly attracted the attention of Mr. Wallace +and irritated him exceedingly. + +When father and daughter were seated in their carriage and were +hurriedly driving home, he said: "Mildred, I prefer that you have as +little to say to that man as possible." + +"What do you object to in him?" she asked. + +"Everything. Of what use is a man who dawdles away his time on a +fiddle; of what benefit is he to mankind? Do fiddlers build cities? Do +they delve into the earth for precious metals? Do they sow the seed +and harvest the grain? No, no; they are drones--the barnacles of +society." + +"Father, how can you advance such an argument? Music's votaries offer +no apologies for their art. The husbandman places the grain within the +breast of Mother Earth for man's material welfare; God places music in +the heart of man for his spiritual development. In man's spring time, +his bridal day, music means joy. In man's winter time, his burial day, +music means comfort. The heaven-born muse has added to the happiness +of the world. Diotti is a great genius. His art brings rest and +tranquillity to the wearied and despairing," and she did not speak +again until they had reached the house. + +The lights were turned low when father and daughter went into the +drawing-room. Mr. Wallace felt that he had failed to convince Mildred +of the utter worthlessness of fiddlers, big or little, and as one +dissatisfied with the outcome of a contest, re-entered the lists. + +"He has visited you?" + +"Yes, father." + +"Often?" + +"Yes, father," spoken calmly. + +"Often?" louder and more imperiously repeated the father, as if there +must be some mistake. + +"Quite often," and she sat down, knowing the catechizing would be +likely to continue for some minutes. + +"How many times, do you think?" + +She rose, walked into the hallway; took the card basket from the +table, returned and seated herself beside her father, emptying its +contents into her lap. She picked up a card. It read "Angelo Diotti," +and she called the name aloud. She took up another and again her lips +voiced the beloved name. "Angelo Diotti," she continued, repeating at +intervals for a minute. Then looking at her father: "He has called +thirty-two times: there are thirty-one cards here and on one occasion +he forgot his card-case." + +"Thirty-two!" said the father, rising angrily and pacing the floor. + +"Yes, thirty-two. I remember all of them distinctly." + +Her father came over to her, half coaxingly, half seriously. "Mildred, +I wish his visits to cease; people will imagine there is a romantic +attachment between you." + +"There is, father," out it came, "he loves me and I love him." + +[Illustration: Father I will obey you implicitly] + +"What!" shouted Mr. Wallace, and then severely, "this must cease +immediately." + +She rose quietly and led her father over to the mantel. Placing a hand +on each of his shoulders she said: + +"Father, I will obey you implicitly if you can name a reasonable +objection to the man I love. But you can not. I love him with my whole +soul. I love him for the nobility of his character, and because there +is none other in the world for him, nor for me." + + + + +IX + + +Old Sanders as boy and man had been in the employ of the banking and +brokerage firm of Wallace Brothers for two generations. The firm +gradually had advanced his position until now he was confidential +adviser and general manager, besides having an interest in the profits +of the business. + +He enjoyed the friendship of Mr. Wallace, and had been a constant +visitor at his house from the first days of that gentleman's married +life. He himself was alone in the world, a confirmed bachelor. He had +seen Mildred creep from babyhood into childhood, and bud from girlhood +to womanhood. To Mildred he was one of that numerous army of brevet +relations known as "gran-pop," "pop," or "uncle." To her he was Uncle +Sanders. + +If the old man had one touch of human nature in him it was a +solicitude for Mildred's future--an authority arrogated to himself--to +see that she married the right man; but even that was directed to her +material gain in this world's goods, and not to any sentimental +consideration for her happiness. He flattered himself that by timely +suggestion he had "stumped" at least half a dozen would-be candidates +for Mildred's hand. He pooh-poohed love as a necessity for marital +felicity, and would enforce his argument by quoting from the bard: + +"All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve +an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of +ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one." + +"You can get at a man's income," he would say, "but not at his heart. +Love without money won't travel as far as money without love," and +many married people whose bills were overdue wondered if the old +fellow was not right. + +He was cold-blooded and generally disliked by the men under him. The +more evil-minded gossips in the bank said he was in league with "Old +Nick." That, of course, was absurd, for it does not necessarily +follow, because a man suggests a means looking to an end, disreputable +though it be, that he has Mephistopheles for a silent partner. The +conservative element among the employees would not openly venture so +far, but rather thought if his satanic majesty and old Sanders ran a +race, the former would come in a bad second, if he were not distanced +altogether. + +The old man always reached the office at nine. Mr. Wallace usually +arrived a half hour later, seldom earlier, which was so well +understood by Sanders that he was greatly surprised when he walked +into the president's office, the morning after that gentleman had +attended Diotti's concert, to find the head of the firm already there +and apparently waiting for him. + +"Sanders," said the banker, "I want your advice on a matter of great +importance and concern to me." + +Sanders came across the room and stood beside the desk. + +"Briefly as possible, I am much exercised about my daughter." + +The old man moved up a chair and buried himself in it. Pressing his +elbows tightly against his sides, he drew his neck in, and with the +tips of his right hand fingers consorted and coquetted with their like +on the opposite hand; then he simply asked, "Who is the man?" + +"He is the violinist who has created such a sensation here, Angelo +Diotti." + +"Yes, I've seen the name in print," returned the old man. + +"He has bewitched Mildred. I never have seen her show the least +interest in a man before. She never has appeared to me as an +impressionable girl or one that could easily be won." + +"That is very true," ejaculated Sanders; "she always seemed tractable +and open to reason in all questions of love and courting. I can recall +several instances where I have set her right by my estimation of men, +and invariably she has accepted my views." + +"And mine until now," said the father, and then he recounted his +experience of the night before. "I had hoped she would not fall in +love, but be a prop and comfort to me now that I am alone. I am +dismayed at the prospect before me." + +Then the old man mused: "In the chrysalis state of girlhood, a parent +arranges all the details of his daughter's future; when and whom she +shall marry. 'I shall not allow her to fall in love until she is +twenty-three,' says the fond parent. 'I shall not allow her to marry +until she is twenty-six,' says the fond parent. 'The man she marries +will be the one I approve of, and then she will live happy ever +after,' concludes the fond parent." + +Deluded parent! false prophet! The anarchist, Love, steps in and +disdains all laws, rules and regulations. When finally the father +confronts the defying daughter, she calmly says, "Well, what are you +going to do about it?" And then tears, forgiveness, complete +capitulation, and, sometimes, she and her husband live happily ever +afterwards. + +"We must find some means to end this attachment. A union between a +musician and my daughter would be most mortifying to me. Some plan +must be devised to separate them, but she must not know of it, for she +is impatient of restraint and will not brook opposition." + +"Are you confident she really loves this violinist?" + +"She confessed as much to me," said the perturbed banker. + +Old Sanders tapped with both hands on his shining cranium and asked, +"Are you confident he loves her?" + +"No. Even if he does not, he no doubt makes the pretense, and she +believes him. A man who fiddles for money is not likely to ignore an +opportunity to angle for the same commodity," and the banker, with a +look of scorn on his face, threw himself back into the chair. + +"Does she know that you do not approve of this man?" + +"I told her that I desired the musician's visits to cease." + +"And her answer?" + +"She said she would obey me if I could name one reasonable objection +to the man, and then, with an air of absolute confidence in the +impossibility of such a contingency, added, 'But you can not.'" + +"Yes, but you must," said Sanders. "Mildred is strangely constituted. +If she loves this man, her love can be more deadly to the choice of +her heart than her hate to one she abhors. The impatience of restraint +you speak of and her very inability to brook opposition can be turned +to good account now." And old Sanders again tapped in the rhythm of a +dirge on his parchment-bound cranium. + +"Your plan?" eagerly asked the father, whose confidence in his +secretary was absolute. + +"I would like to study them together. Your position will be stronger +with Mildred if you show no open opposition to the man or his +aspirations; bring us together at your house some evening, and if I +can not enter a wedge of discontent, then they are not as others." + + * * * * * + +Mildred was delighted when her father told her on his return in the +evening that he was anxious to meet Signor Diotti, and suggested a +dinner party within a few days. He said he would invite Mr. Sanders, +as that gentleman, no doubt, would consider it a great privilege to +meet the famous musician. Mildred immediately sent an invitation to +Diotti, adding a request that he bring his violin and play for Uncle +Sanders, as the latter had found it impossible to attend his concerts +during the season, yet was fond of music, especially violin music. + + + + +X + + +The little dinner party passed off pleasantly, and as old Sanders +lighted his cigar he confided to Diotti, with a braggart's assurance, +that when he was a youngster he was the best fiddler for twenty miles +around. "I tell you there is nothing like a fiddler to catch a +petticoat," he said, with a sharp nudge of his elbow into Diotti's +ribs. "When I played the Devil's Dream there wasn't a girl in the +country could keep from dancing, and 'Rosalie, the Prairie Flower,' +brought them on their knees to me every time;" then after a pause, "I +don't believe people fiddle as well nowadays as they did in the good +old times," and he actually sighed in remembrance. + +Mildred smiled and whispered to Diotti. He took his violin from the +case and began playing. It seemed to her as if from above showers of +silvery merriment were falling to earth. The old man watched intently, +and as the player changed from joy to pity, from love back to +happiness, Sanders never withdrew his gaze. His bead-like eyes +followed the artist; he saw each individual finger rise and fall, and +the bow bound over the finger-board, always avoiding, never coming in +contact with the middle string. Suddenly the old man beat a tattoo on +his cranium and closed his eyes, apparently deep in thought. + +As Diotti ceased playing, Sanders applauded vociferously, and moving +toward the violinist, said: "Magnificent! I never have heard better +playing! What is the make of your violin?" + +Diotti, startled at this question, hurriedly put the instrument in its +case; "Oh, it is a famous make," he drawled. + +"Will you let me examine it?" said the elder, placing his hand on the +case. + +"I never allow any one to touch my violin," replied Diotti, closing +the cover quickly. + +"Why; is there a magic charm about it, that you fear other hands may +discover?" queried the old man. + +"I prefer that no one handle it," said the _virtuoso_ commandingly. + +"Very well," sighed the old man resignedly, "there are violins and +violins, and no doubt yours comes within that category," this half +sneeringly. + +"Uncle," interposed Mildred tactfully, "you must not be so persistent. +Signor Diotti prizes his violin highly and will not allow any one to +play upon it but himself," and the look of relief on Diotti's face +amply repaid her. + +Mr. Wallace came in at that moment, and with perfunctory interest in +his guest, invited him to examine the splendid collection of +revolutionary relics in his study. + +"I value them highly," said the banker, "both for patriotic and +ancestral reasons. The Wallaces fought and died for their country, and +helped to make this land what it is." + +The father and the violinist went to the study, leaving the daughter +and old Sanders in the drawing-room. The old man, seating himself in a +large armchair, said: "Mildred, my dear, I do not wonder at the +enormous success of this Diotti." + +"He is a wonderful artist," replied Mildred; "critics and public alike +place him among the greatest of his profession." + +"He is a good-looking young fellow, too," said the old man. + +"I think he is the handsomest man I ever have seen," replied the girl. + +"Where does he come from?" continued Sanders. + +"St. Casciano, a small town in Tuscany." + +"Has he a family?" + +"Only a sister, whom he loves dearly," good-naturedly answered the +girl. + +"And no one else?" continued the seemingly garrulous old man. + +"None that I have heard him speak of. No, certainly not," rather +impetuously replied Mildred. + +"How old is he?" continued the old man. + +"Twenty-eight next month; why do you wish to know?" she quizzically +asked. + +"Simply idle curiosity," old Sanders carelessly replied. "I wonder if +he is in love with any one in Tuscany?" + +"Of course not; how could he be?" quickly rejoined the girl. + +"And why not?" added old Sanders. + +"Why? Because, because--he is in love with some one in America." + +"Ah, with you, I see," said the old man, as if it were the greatest +discovery of his life; "are you sure he has not some beautiful +sweetheart in Tuscany as well as here?" + +"What a foolish question," she replied. "Men like Angelo Diotti do not +fall in love as soldiers fall in line. Love to a man of his nobility +is too serious to be treated so lightly." + +"Very true, and that's what has excited my curiosity!" whereupon the +old man smoked away in silence. + +"Excited your curiosity!" said Mildred. "What do you mean?" + +"It may be something; it may be nothing; but my speculative instinct +has been aroused by a strange peculiarity in his playing." + +"His playing is wonderful!" replied Mildred proudly. + +"Aye, more than wonderful! I watched him intently," said the old man; +"I noted with what marvelous facility he went from one string to the +other. But however rapid, however difficult the composition, he +steadily avoided one string; in fact, that string remained untouched +during the entire hour he played for us." + +"Perhaps the composition did not call for its use," suggested Mildred, +unconscious of any other meaning in the old man's observation, save +praise for her lover. + +"Perhaps so, but the oddity impressed me; it was a new string to me. I +have never seen one like it on a violin before." + +"That can scarcely be, for I do not remember of Signor Diotti telling +me there was anything unusual about his violin." + +"I am sure it has a fifth string." + +"And I am equally sure the string can be of no importance or Angelo +would have told me of it," Mildred quickly rejoined. + +"I recall a strange story of Paganini," continued the old man, +apparently not noticing her interruption; "he became infatuated with a +lady of high rank, who was insensible of the admiration he had for her +beauty. + +"He composed a love scene for two strings, the 'E' and 'G,' the first +was to personate the lady, the second himself. It commenced with a +species of dialogue, intending to represent her indifference and his +passion; now sportive, now sad; laughter on her part and tears from +him, ending in an apotheosis of loving reconciliation. It affected the +lady to that degree that ever after she loved the violinist." + +"And no doubt they were happy?" Mildred suggested smilingly. + +"Yes," said the old man, with assumed sentiment, "even when his +profession called him far away, for she had made him promise her he +never would play upon the two strings whose music had won her heart, +so those strings were mute, except for her." + +The old man puffed away in silence for a moment, then with logical +directness continued: "Perhaps the string that's mute upon Diotti's +violin is mute for some such reason." + +"Nonsense," said the girl, half impatiently. + +"The string is black and glossy as the tresses that fall in tangled +skeins on the shoulders of the dreamy beauties of Tuscany. It may be +an idle fancy, but if that string is not a woven strand from some +woman's crowning glory, then I have no discernment." + +"You are jesting, uncle," she replied, but her heart was heavy +already. + +"Ask him to play on that string; I'll wager he'll refuse," said the +old man, contemptuously. + +"He will not refuse when I ask him, but I will not to-night," answered +the unhappy girl, with forced determination. Then, taking the old +man's hands, she said: "Good-night, I am going to my room; please make +my excuses to Signor Diotti and father," and wearily she ascended the +stairs. + +Mr. Wallace and the violinist soon after joined old Sanders, fresh +cigars were lighted and regrets most earnestly expressed by the +violinist for Mildred's "sick headache." + +"No need to worry; she will be all right in the morning," said +Sanders, and he and the violinist buttoned their coats tightly about +them, for the night was bitter cold, and together they left the house. + +In her bed-chamber Mildred stood looking at the portrait of her lover. +She studied his face long and intently, then crossing the room she +mechanically took a volume from the shelf, and as she opened it her +eyes fell on these lines: "How art thou fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, +son of the Morning!" + + * * * * * + +Old Sanders builded better than he knew. + + + + +XI + + +When Diotti and old Sanders left the house they walked rapidly down +Fifth Avenue. It was after eleven, and the streets were bare of +pedestrians, but blinking-eyed cabs came up the avenue, looking at a +distance like a trail of Megatheriums, gliding through the darkness. +The piercing wind made the men hasten their steps, the old man by a +semi-rotary motion keeping up with the longer strides and measured +tread of the younger. + +When they reached Fourteenth Street, the elder said, "I live but a +block from here," pointing eastward; "what do you say to a hot toddy? +It will warm the cockles of your heart; come over to my house and I'll +mix you the best drink in New York." + +The younger thought the suggestion a good one and they turned toward +the house of old Sanders. + +It was a neat, red brick, two-story house, well in from the street, +off the line of the more pretentious buildings on either side. As the +old man opened the iron gate, the police officer on the beat passed; +he peered into the faces of the men, and recognizing Sanders, said, +"tough night, sir." + +"Very," replied the addressed. + +"All good old gentlemen should be in bed at this hour," said the +officer, lifting one foot after the other in an effort to keep warm, +and in so doing showing little terpsichorean grace. + +"It's only the shank of the evening, officer," rejoined the old man, +as he fumbled with the latch key and finally opened the door. The two +men entered and the officer passed on. + +Every man has a fad. One will tell you he sees nothing in billiards or +pool or golf or tennis, but will grow enthusiastic over the scientific +possibilities of mumble-peg; you agree with him, only you substitute +"skittles" for "mumble-peg." + +Old Sanders' fad was mixing toddies and punches. + +"The nectar of the gods pales into nothingness when compared with a +toddy such as I make," said he. "Ambrosia may have been all right for +the degenerates of the old Grecian and Roman days, but an American +gentleman demands a toddy--a hot toddy." And then he proceeded with +circumspection and dignity to demonstrate the process of decocting +that mysterious beverage. + +The two men took off their overcoats and went into the sitting-room. A +pile of logs burned brightly in the fire-place. The old man threw +another on the burning heap, filled the kettle with water and hung it +over the fire. Next he went to the sideboard and brought forth the +various ingredients for the toddy. + +"How do you like America?" said the elder, with commonplace +indifference, as he crunched a lump of sugar in the bottom of the +glass, dissolving the particles with a few drops of water. + +"Very much, indeed," said the Tuscan, with the air of a man who had +answered the question before. + +"Great country for girls!" said Sanders, pouring a liberal quantity of +Old Tom gin in the glass and placing it where it gradually would get +warm. + +"And for men!" responded Diotti, enthusiastically. + +"Men don't amount to much here, women run everything," retorted the +elder, while he repeated the process of preparing the sugar and gin in +the second glass. The kettle began to sing. + +"That's music for you," chuckled the old man, raising the lid to see +if the water had boiled sufficiently. "Do you know I think a dinner +horn and a singing kettle beat a symphony all hollow for real +down-right melody," and he lifted the kettle from the fire-place. + +Diotti smiled. + +With mathematical accuracy the old man filled the two tumblers with +boiling water. + +"Try that," handing a glass of the toddy to Diotti; "you will find it +all right," and the old man drew an armchair toward the fire-place, +smacking his lips in anticipation. + +The violinist placed his chair closer to the fire and sipped the +drink. + +"Your country is noted for its beautiful women?" + +"We have exquisite types of femininity in Tuscany," said the young +man, with patriotic ardor. + +"Any as fine looking as--as--as--well, say the young lady we dined +with to-night?" + +"Miss Wallace?" queried the Tuscan. + +"Yes, Miss Wallace," this rather impatiently. + +"She is very beautiful," said Diotti, with solemn admiration. + +"Have you ever seen any one prettier?" questioned the old man, after a +second prolonged sip. + +"I have no desire to see any one more beautiful," said the violinist, +feeling that the other was trying to draw him out, and determined not +to yield. + +"You will pardon the inquisitiveness of an old man, but are not you +musicians a most impressionable lot?" + +"We are human," answered the violinist. + +"I imagined you were like sailors and had a sweetheart in every port." + +"That would be a delightful prospect to one having polygamous +aspirations, but for myself, one sweetheart is enough," laughingly +said the musician. + +"Only one! Well, here's to her! With this nectar fit for the gods and +goddesses of Olympus, let us drink to her," said old Sanders, with +convivial dignity, his glass raised on high. "Here's wishing health +and happiness to the dreamy-eyed Tuscan beauty, whom you love and who +loves you." + +"Stop!" said Diotti; "we will drink to the first part of that toast," +and holding his glass against that of his bibulous host, continued: +"To the dreamy-eyed women of my country, exacting of their lovers; +obedient to their parents and loyal to their husbands," and his voice +rose in sonorous rhythm with the words. + +"Now for the rest of the toast, to the one you love and who loves +you," came from Sanders. + +"To the one I love and who loves me, God bless her!" fervently cried +the guest. + +"Is she a Tuscan?" asked old Sanders slyly. + +"She is an angel!" impetuously answered the violinist. + +"Then she is an American!" said the old man gallantly. + +"She is an American," repeated Diotti, forgetting himself for the +instant. + +"Let me see if I can guess her name," said old Sanders. "It's--it's +Mildred Wallace!" and his manner suggested a child solving a riddle. + +The violinist, about to speak, checked himself and remained silent. + +"I sincerely pity Mildred if ever she falls in love," abstractedly +continued the host while filling another glass. + +"Pray why?" was anxiously asked. + +The old man shifted his position and assumed a confidential tone and +attitude: "Signor Diotti, jealousy is a more universal passion than +love itself. Environment may develop our character, influence our +tastes and even soften our features, but heredity determines the +intensity of the two leading passions, love and jealousy. Mildred's +mother was a beautiful woman, but consumed with an overpowering +jealousy of her husband. It was because she loved him. The body-guard +of jealousy--envy, malice and hatred--were not in her composition. +When Mildred was a child of twelve I have seen her mother suffer the +keenest anguish because Mr. Wallace fondled the child. She thought the +child had robbed her of her husband's love." + +"Such a woman as Miss Wallace would command the entire love and +admiration of her husband at all times," said the artist. + +"If she should marry a man she simply likes, her chances for happiness +would be normal." + +"In what manner?" asked the lover. + +"Because she would be little concerned about him or his actions." + +"Then you believe," said the musician, "that the man who loves her and +whom she loves should give her up because her chances of happiness +would be greater away from him than with him?" + +"That would be an unselfish love," said the elder. + +"Suppose they have declared their passion?" asked Diotti. + +"A parting before doubt and jealousy had entered her mind would let +the image of her sacrificing lover live within her soul as a tender +and lasting memory; he always would be her ideal," and the accent old +Sanders placed on _always_ left no doubt of his belief. + +"Why should doubt and jealousy enter her life?" said the violinist, +falling into the personal character of the discussion despite himself. + +"My dear sir, from what I observed to-night, she loves you. You are a +dangerous man for a jealous woman to love. You are not a cloistered +monk, you are a man before the public; you win the admiration of many; +some women do not hesitate to show you their preference. To a woman +like Mildred that would be torture; she could not and would not +separate the professional artist from the lover or husband." + +And Diotti, remembering Mildred's words, could not refute the old +man's statements. + +"If you had known her mother as I did," continued the old man, +realizing his argument was making an impression on the violinist, "you +would see the agony in store for the daughter if she married a man +such as you, a public servant, a public favorite." + +"I would live my life not to excite her suspicions or jealousy," said +the artist, with boyish enthusiasm and simplicity. + +"Foolish fellow," retorted Sanders, skeptically; "women imagine, they +don't reason. A scented note unopened on the dressing table can cause +more unhappiness to your wife than the loss of his country to a king. +My advice to you is: do not marry; but if you must, choose one who is +more interested in your gastronomic felicity than in your marital +constancy." + +Diotti was silent. He was pondering the words of his host. Instead of +seeing in Mildred a possibly jealous woman, causing mental misery, she +appeared a vision of single-hearted devotion. He felt: "To be loved by +such a one is bliss beyond the dreams of this world." + + + + +XII + + +A tipsy man is never interesting, and Sanders in that condition was no +exception. The old man arose with some effort, walked toward the +window and, shading his eyes, looked out. The snow was drifting, swept +hither and thither by the cutting wind that came through the streets +in great gusts. Turning to the violinist, he said, "It's an awful +night; better remain here until morning. You'll not find a cab; in +fact, I will not let you go while this storm continues," and the old +man raised the window, thrusting his head out for an instant. As he +did so the icy blast that came in settled any doubt in the young man's +mind and he concluded to stop over night. + +It was nearly two o'clock; Sanders showed him to his room and then +returned down stairs to see that everything was snug and secure. After +changing his heavy shoes for a pair of old slippers and wrapping a +dressing gown around him, the old man stretched his legs toward the +fire and sipped his toddy. + +"He isn't a bad sort for a violinist," mused the old man; "if he were +worth a million, I believe I'd advise Wallace to let him marry her. A +fiddler! A million! Sounds funny," and he laughed shrilly. + +He turned his head and his eyes caught sight of Diotti's violin case +resting on the center table. He staggered from the chair and went +toward it; opening the lid softly, he lifted the silken coverlet +placed over the instrument and examined the strings intently. "I am +right," he said; "it is wrapped with hair, and no doubt from a woman's +head. Eureka!" and the old man, happy in the discovery that his +surmises were correct, returned to his chair and his toddy. + +He sat looking into the fire. The violin had brought back memories of +the past and its dead. He mumbled, as if to the fire, "she loved me; +she loved my violin. I was a devil; my violin was a devil," and the +shadows on the wall swayed like accusing spirits. He buried his face +in his hands and cried piteously, "I was so young; too young to know." +He spoke as if he would conciliate the ghastly shades that moved +restlessly up and down, when suddenly--"Sanders, don't be a fool!" + +He ambled toward the table again. "I wonder who made the violin? He +would not tell me when I asked him to-night; thank you for your pains, +but I will find out myself," and he took the violin from the case. +Holding it with the light slanting over it, he peered inside, but +found no inscription. "No maker's name--strange," he said. He tiptoed +to the foot of the stairs and listened intently; "he must be asleep; +he won't hear me," and noiselessly he closed the door. "I guess if I +play a tune on it he won't know." + +He took the bow from its place in the case and tightened it. He +listened again. "He is fast asleep," he whispered. "I'll play the song +I always played for her--until," and the old man repeated the words of +the refrain: + + "_Fair as a lily, joyous and free, + Light of the prairie home was she; + Every one who knew her felt the gentle power + Of Rosalie, the Prairie Flower._" + +He sat again in the arm-chair and placed the violin under his chin. +Tremulously he drew the bow across the middle string, his bloodless +fingers moving slowly up and down. + +The theme he played was the melody to the verse he had just repeated, +but the expression was remorse. + + * * * * * + +Diotti sat upright in bed. "I am positive I heard a violin!" he said, +holding one hand toward his head in an attitude of listening. He was +wide awake. The drifting snow beat against the window panes and the +wind without shrieked like a thousand demons of the night. He could +sleep no more. He arose and hastily dressed. The room was bitterly +cold; he was shivering. He thought of the crackling logs in the +fire-place below. He groped his way along the darkened staircase. As +he opened the door leading into the sitting-room the fitful gleam of +the dying embers cast a ghastly light over the face of a corpse. + +Diotti stood a moment, his eyes transfixed with horror. The violin and +bow still in the hands of the dead man told him plainer than words +what had happened. He went toward the chair, took the instrument from +old Sanders' hands and laid it on the table. Then he knelt beside the +body, and placing his ear close over the heart, listened for some sign +of life, but the old man was beyond human aid. + +He wheeled the chair to the side of the room and moved the body to the +sofa. Gently he covered it with a robe. The awfulness of the situation +forced itself upon him, and bitterly he blamed himself. The terrible +power of the instrument dawned upon him in all its force. Often he had +played on the strings telling of pity, hope, love and joy, but now, +for the first time, he realized what that fifth string meant. + +"I must give it back to its owner." + +"If you do you can never regain it," whispered a voice within. + +"I do not need it," said the violinist, almost audibly. + +"Perhaps not," said the voice, "but if her love should wane how would +you rekindle it? Without the violin you would be helpless." + +"Is it not possible that, in this old man's death, all its fatal power +has been expended?" + +He went to the table and took the instrument from its place. "You won +her for me; you have brought happiness and sunshine into my life. No! +No! I can not, will not give you up," then placing the violin and bow +in its case he locked it. + +The day was breaking. In an hour the baker's boy came. Diotti went to +the door, gave him a note addressed to Mr. Wallace and asked him to +deliver it at once. The boy consented and drove rapidly away. + +Within an hour Mr. Wallace arrived; Diotti told the story of the +night. After the undertaker had taken charge of the body he found on +the dead man's neck, just to the left of the chin, a dullish, black +bruise which might have been caused by the pressing of some blunt +instrument, or by a man's thumb. Considering it of much importance, he +notified the coroner, who ordered an inquest. + +At six o'clock that evening a jury was impaneled, and two hours later +its verdict was reported. + + + + +XIII + + +On leaving the house of the dead man Diotti walked wearily to his +hotel. In flaring type at every street corner he saw the announcement +for Thursday evening, March thirty-first, of Angelo Diotti's last +appearance: "To-night I play for the last time," he murmured in a +voice filled with deepest regret. + +The feeling of exultation so common to artists who finally reach the +goal of their ambition was wanting in Diotti this morning. He could +not rid himself of the memory of Sanders' tragic death. The figure of +the old man clutching the violin and staring with glassy eyes into the +dying fire would not away. + +When he reached the hotel he tried to rest, but his excited brain +banished every thought of slumber. Restlessly he moved about the room, +and finally dressing, he left the hotel for his daily call on Mildred. +It was after five o'clock when he arrived. She received him coldly and +without any mark of affection. + +She had heard of Mr. Sanders' death; her father had sent word. "It +shocked me greatly," she said; "but perhaps the old man is happier in +a world far from strife and care. When we realize all the misery there +is in this world we often wonder why we should care to live." Her tone +was despondent, her face was drawn and blanched, and her eyes gave +evidence of weeping. + +Diotti divined that something beyond sympathy for old Sanders' sudden +death racked her soul. He went toward her and lovingly taking her +hands, bent low and pressed his lips to them; they were cold as +marble. + +"Darling," he said; "something has made you unhappy. What is it?" + +"Tell me, Angelo, and truly; is your violin like other violins?" + +This unexpected question came so suddenly he could not control his +agitation. + +"Why do you ask?" he said. + +"You must answer me directly!" + +"No, Mildred; my violin is different from any other I have ever seen," +this hesitatingly and with great effort at composure. + +"In what way is it different?" she almost demanded. + +"It is peculiarly constructed; it has an extra string. But why this +sudden interest in the violin? Let us talk of you, of me, of both, of +our future," said he with enforced cheerfulness. + +"No, we will talk of the violin. Of what use is the extra string?" + +"None whatever," was the quick reply. + +"Then why not cut it off?" + +"No, no, Mildred; you do not understand," he cried; "I can not do +that." + +"You can not do it when I ask it?" she exclaimed. + +"Oh Mildred, do not ask me; I can not, can not do it," and the face of +the affrighted musician told plainer than words of the turmoil raging +in his soul. + +"You made me believe that I was the only one you loved," passionately +she cried; "the only one; that your happiness was incomplete without +me. You led me into the region of light only to make the darkness +greater when I descended to earth again. I ask you to do a simple +thing and you refuse; you refuse because another has commanded you." + +"Mildred, Mildred; if you love me do not speak thus!" + +And she, with imagination greater than reasoning power, at once saw a +Tuscan beauty and Diotti mutually pledging their love with their +lives. + +"Go," she said, pointing to the door, "go to the one who owns you, +body and soul; then say that a foolish woman threw her heart at your +feet and that you scorned it!" She sank to the sofa. + +He went toward the door, and in a voice that sounded like the echo of +despair, protested: "Mildred, I love you; love you a thousand times +more than I do my life. If I should destroy the string, as you ask, +love and hope would leave me forevermore. Death would not be robbed of +its terror!" and with bowed head he went forth into the twilight. + +She ran to the window and watched his retreating figure as he +vanished. "Uncle Sanders was right; he loves another woman, and that +string binds them together. He belongs to her!" Long and silently she +stood by the window, gazing at the shadowing curtain of the coming +night. At last her face softened. "Perhaps he does not love her now, +but fears her vengeance. No, no; he is not a coward! I should have +approached him differently; he is proud, and maybe he resented my +imperative manner," and a thousand reasons why he should or should not +have removed that string flashed through her mind. + +"I will go early to the concert to-night and see him before he plays. +Uncle Sanders said he did not touch that string when he played. Of +course he will play on it for me, even if he will not cut it off, and +then if he says he loves me, and only me, I will believe him. I want +to believe him; I want to believe him," all this in a semi-hysterical +way addressed to the violinist's portrait on the piano. + +When she entered her carriage an hour later, telling the coachman to +drive direct to the stage-door of the Academy, she appeared more +fascinating than ever before. + +She was sitting in his dressing-room waiting for him when he arrived. +He had aged years in a day. His step was uncertain, his eyes were +sunken and his hand trembled. His face brightened as she arose, and +Mildred met him in the center of the room. He lifted her hand and +pressed a kiss upon it. + +"Angelo, dear," she said in repentant tone; "I am sorry I pained you +this afternoon; but I am jealous, so jealous of you." + +"Jealous?" he said smilingly; "there is no need of jealousy in our +lives; we love each other truly and only." + +"That is just what I think, we will never doubt each other again, will +we?" + +"Never!" he said solemnly. + +He had placed his violin case on the table in the room. She went to it +and tapped the top playfully; then suddenly said: "I am going to look +at your violin, Angelo," and before he could interfere, she had taken +the silken coverlet off and was examining the instrument closely. +"Sure enough, it has five strings; the middle one stands higher than +the rest and is of glossy blackness. Uncle Sanders was right; it is a +woman's hair! + +"Why is that string made of hair?" she asked, controlling her emotion. + +"Only a fancy," he said, feigning indifference. + +"Though you would not remove it at my wish this afternoon, Angelo; I +know you will not refuse to play on it for me now." + +He raised his hands in supplication. "Mildred! Mildred! Stop! do not +ask it!" + +"You refuse after I have come repentant, and confessing my doubts and +fears? Uncle Sanders said you would not play upon it for me; he told +me it was wrapped with a woman's hair, the hair of the woman you +love." + +"I swear to you, Mildred, that I love but you!" + +"Love me? Bah! And another woman's tresses sacred to you? Another +woman's pledge sacred to you? I asked you to remove the string; you +refused. I ask you now to play upon it; you refuse," and she paced the +room like a caged tigress. + +"I will watch to-night when you play," she flashed. "If you do not use +that string we part forever." + +He stood before her and attempted to take her hand; she repulsed him +savagely. + +Sadly then he asked: "And if I do play upon it?" + +"I am yours forever--yours through life--through eternity," she cried +passionately. + +The call-boy announced Diotti's turn; the violinist led Mildred to a +seat at the entrance of the stage. His appearance was the signal for +prolonged and enthusiastic greeting from the enormous audience +present. He clearly was the idol of the metropolis. + +[Illustration: If you do not play upon it we separate forever] + +The lights were lowered, a single calcium playing with its soft and +silvery rays upon his face and shoulders. The expectant audience +scarcely breathed as he began his theme. It was pity--pity molded into +a concord of beautiful sounds, and when he began the second movement +it was but a continuation of the first; his fingers sought but one +string, that of pity. Again he played, and once more pity stole from +the violin. + +When he left the stage Mildred rushed to him. "You did not touch that +string; you refuse my wish?" and the sounds of mighty applause without +drowned his pleading voice. + +"I told you if you refused me I was lost to you forever! Do you +understand?" + +Diotti returned slowly to the center of the stage and remained +motionless until the audience subsided. Facing Mildred, whose color +was heightened by the intensity of her emotion, he began softly to +play. His fingers sought the string of Death. The audience listened +with breathless interest. The composition was weirdly and strangely +fascinating. + +The player told with wondrous power of despair,--of hope, of faith; +sunshine crept into the hearts of all as he pictured the promise of an +eternal day; higher and higher, softer and softer grew the theme until +it echoed as if it were afar in the realms of light and floating o'er +the waves of a golden sea. + +Suddenly the audience was startled by the snapping of a string; the +violin and bow dropped from the nerveless hands of the player. He fell +helpless to the stage. + +Mildred rushed to him, crying, "Angelo, Angelo, what is it? What has +happened?" Bending over him she gently raised his head and showered +unrestrained kisses upon his lips, oblivious of all save her lover. + +"Speak! Speak!" she implored. + +A faint smile illumined his face; he gazed with ineffable tenderness +into her weeping eyes, then slowly closed his own as if in slumber. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIFTH STRING*** + + +******* This file should be named 29481-8.txt or 29481-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/4/8/29481 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/29481-8.zip b/29481-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3594ee --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-8.zip diff --git a/29481-h.zip b/29481-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..86c35b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h.zip diff --git a/29481-h/29481-h.htm b/29481-h/29481-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1be83ea --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/29481-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3578 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fifth String, by John Philip Sousa</title> + <style type="text/css" media="screen"> + + /* Reset styles to avoid cross-browser problems */ + html, body, div, span, h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6, p, blockquote, pre, a, abbr, acronym, cite, del, em, img, ins, strong, sub, sup, ol, ul, li, + table, caption, tbody, tfoot, thead, tr, th, td { margin: 0; padding: 0; border: 0; outline: 0; font-size: 100%; vertical-align: baseline; background: transparent; } + body { line-height: 1; } + ol, ul { list-style: none; } + ins { text-decoration: none; } + del { text-decoration: line-through; } + abbr, img { text-decoration: none; } + table { border-collapse: collapse; border-spacing: 0; } + + + /* Overall document styles start here */ + html { margin:1em; font-family: Palatino, "Palatino Linotype", "Times New Roman", Times, serif; } + body { margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; } + p { text-align: justify; line-height: 1.3; text-indent: 1em; } + h1,h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; clear: both; text-indent:0em;} + blockquote {margin:1em 2em; font-size:.9em;} + + div.illo {text-align:center; + margin:2em auto; + text-indent:0em;} + p.caption {text-align:center;text-indent:0;font-size:.9em;} + + img { border:none;} + .illo a:hover { background-color:transparent;} + + /* Page number styling */ + .pagenum { position: absolute; left: 2%; font-size: 10px; font-weight:normal; font-variant:normal; font-style: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; color: gray; } + .pagenum:after { content: attr(title); } /* Comment/uncomment this instruction to hide/show page numbers*/ + .disguise { visibility:hidden;} /* Used to make some page numbers invisible but still anchors. Used on pages that do not have page numbers printed on them but are included in the numbering scheme. */ + + /* Front and end matter */ + #title-page {margin:3em 0; padding-top:3em; line-height:4em; font-style:italic;} + #title-page p {text-align:center;text-indent:0em;} + #title-page h1 {font-size:3em;} + #title-page #author {font-size:1.25em;line-height:2em;margin:4em 0;} + #title-page #illustrator {font-size:1.1em;} + #title-page #pub_data {font-size:.9em;line-height:1.5em;margin:4em 0;} + + #copyright-page {margin:5em 0;} + #copyright-page p {text-indent:0em; text-align:center;} + #copyright-statement {font-style:italic; margin-bottom:6em;} + #printer {font-size:.8em;margin:6em 0;} + + .internal-title {text-align:center;text-indent:0em;font-size:2.5em;} + + #the_beginning {margin:3em 0; padding-top:3em; border-top:2px gray solid;line-height:4em;} + #the_end {margin:3em 0;padding-bottom:3em; border-bottom:2px gray solid;} + #the_end p { text-align:center; text-indent:0em;font-style:italic;} + + /* Chapters */ + .chapter { margin: 6em 0; } + .chapter h2 { margin:2em 0; font-size:1.5em; line-height:1.5;} + .first_paragraph {text-indent:0;} + .first_word {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:1.8em;font-style:italic;line-height:1;} + .first_paragraph:first-letter {float:left;height:1em;margin:.2em .1em 0 0;display:block;} + hr.thoughtbreak { border:none; text-decoration:none; text-align:center; width:35%; margin:1.5em auto;} + .thoughtbreak:before {content:"* * * * * *"; font-size:1em; letter-spacing:.5em;} + + .poem {margin:.75em 0em 1em .5em; font-style:italic;} + .poem p {text-indent:-.75em;text-align:left;padding-left:1em;margin:0em;line-height:1.2;} + p.i12 {text-indent:6em;} + p.poetry_break {letter-spacing:2em;text-indent:1em;font-weight:bold;} + + .chapter > .poem {margin-left:2em;} + + .letter {margin:2em; font-style:italic;} + .signature {text-align:right; text-indent:0em;margin-right:10em;} + .signed {text-align:right;margin-right:-5em; display:block;} + .special_name {font-variant:small-caps;} + + + /* Anchors */ + a:link {color: #3A3E9D; background-color: inherit; text-decoration: none;} + a:visited {color: #000066; background-color: inherit; text-decoration: none;} + a:hover {color: #A8480E; background-color: #CC9;} + + div.pg { font-family: "Times-Roman", serif; } + h1.pg { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; clear: both; text-indent:0em; font-size: 190%; font-family: "Times-Roman", serif; } + h3.pg { text-align: center; font-size: 110%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + .center {text-align: center; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Fifth String, by John Philip Sousa, +Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy</h1> +<p> </p> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<div class="pg"> +<p> </p> +<p>Title: The Fifth String<br /> <br /> </p> +<p>Author: John Philip Sousa<br /> </p> +<p>Release Date: July 22, 2009 [eBook #29481]<br /> </p> +<p>Language: English<br /> </p> +<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8<br /> </p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIFTH STRING***<br /> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +</div> + +<div id="illo1" class="illo"><a class="pagenum disguise" id="pagei" title="i"> </a> + <a href="images/illo1.jpg"><img src="images/illo1-th.jpg" width="355" height="518" alt="A young woman in fine, stylish clothing sits with a paper on her lap. Other well-dressed women are nearby." /></a> +</div> + +<div id="title-page"><a class="pagenum disguise" id="pageii" title="ii"> </a> + +<h1>The Fifth String</h1> + + +<p id="author">By<br /> +John Philip Sousa</p> + + +<p id="illustrator">The Illustrations by<br /> +Howard Chandler Christy</p> + + +<p id="pub_data">Indianapolis<br /> +The Bowen-Merrill Company<br /> +Publishers</p> +</div> + +<div id="copyright-page"><a class="pagenum disguise" id="pageiii" title="iii"> </a> +<p id="copyright-statement">Copyright 1902<br /> +The Bowen-Merrill Company</p> + +<p id="printer">PRESS OF<br /> +BRAUNWORTH & CO.<br /> +BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS<br /> +BROOKLYN, N. Y.</p> +</div> + +<!-- <p class="internal-title"><a class="pagenum" id="pageiv" title="iv"> </a>The Fifth String</p> --> +<!-- Left out because it's close to the next one --> +<!-- <a class="pagenum" id="pagev" title="v"> </a>[Blank Page] --> + +<div id="chapter_1" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page1" title="1"> </a> + +<p class="internal-title">The Fifth String</p> + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">The</span> coming of Diotti to America +had awakened more than usual interest +in the man and his work. His +marvelous success as violinist in the +leading capitals of Europe, together with +many brilliant contributions to the literature +of his instrument, had long been +favorably commented on by the critics +of the old world. Many stories of his +struggles and his triumphs had found +their way across the ocean and had been +read and re-read with interest. +<a class="pagenum" id="page2" title="2"> </a> +Therefore, when Mr. Henry Perkins, +the well-known impresario, announced +with an air of conscious pride and pardonable +enthusiasm that he had secured +Diotti for a “limited†number of concerts, +Perkins’ friends assured that +wide-awake gentleman that his foresight +amounted to positive genius, and +they predicted an unparalleled success +for his star. On account of his wonderful +ability as player, Diotti was a favorite +at half the courts of Europe, and +the astute Perkins enlarged upon this +fact without regard for the feelings of +the courts or the violinist.</p> + +<p>On the night preceding Diotti’s début +in New York, he was the center of +attraction at a reception given by Mrs. +Llewellyn, a social leader, and a devoted +patron of the arts. The violinist made +a deep impression on those fortunate +enough to be near him during the evening. +<a class="pagenum" id="page3" title="3"> </a>He won the respect of the men +by his observations on matters of international +interest, and the admiration of +the gentler sex by his chivalric estimate +of woman’s influence in the world’s +progress, on which subject he talked +with rarest good humor and delicately +implied gallantry.</p> + +<p>During one of those sudden and unexplainable +lulls that always occur in general +drawing-room conversations, Diotti +turned to Mrs. Llewellyn and whispered: +“Who is the charming young +woman just entering?â€</p> + +<p>“The beauty in white?â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, the beauty in white,†softly +echoing Mrs. Llewellyn’s query. He +leaned forward and with eager eyes +gazed in admiration at the new-comer. +He seemed hypnotized by the vision, +which moved slowly from between the +blue-tinted portières and stood for the +<a class="pagenum" id="page4" title="4"> </a>instant, a perfect embodiment of radiant +womanhood, silhouetted against the +silken drapery.</p> + +<p>“That is Miss Wallace, Miss Mildred +Wallace, only child of one of New +York’s prominent bankers.â€</p> + +<p>“She is beautiful—a queen by divine +right,†cried he, and then with a mingling +of impetuosity and importunity, +entreated his hostess to present him.</p> + +<p>And thus they met.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Llewellyn’s entertainments were +celebrated, and justly so. At her receptions +one always heard the best singers +and players of the season, and Epicurus’ +soul could rest in peace, for her chef had +an international reputation. Oh, remember, +you music-fed ascetic, many, +aye, very many, regard the transition +from Tschaikowsky to terrapin, from +Beethoven to burgundy with hearts +<a class="pagenum" id="page5" title="5"> </a>aflame with anticipatory joy—and Mrs. +Llewellyn’s dining-room was crowded.</p> + +<p>Miss Wallace and Diotti had wandered +into the conservatory.</p> + +<p>“A desire for happiness is our common +heritage,†he was saying in his +richly melodious voice.</p> + +<p>“But to define what constitutes happiness +is very difficult,†she replied.</p> + +<p>“Not necessarily,†he went on; “if +the motive is clearly within our grasp, +the attainment is possible.â€</p> + +<p>“For example?†she asked.</p> + +<p>“The miser is happy when he hoards +his gold; the philanthropist when he +distributes his. The attainment is identical, +but the motives are antipodal.â€</p> + +<p>“Then one possessing sufficient motives +could be happy without end?†+she suggested doubtingly.</p> + +<p>“That is my theory. The Niobe of +old had happiness within her power.â€</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page6" title="6"> </a>“The gods thought not,†said she; +“in their very pity they changed her +into stone, and with streaming eyes she +ever tells the story of her sorrow.â€</p> + +<p>“But are her children weeping?†+he asked. “I think not. Happiness +can bloom from the seeds of deepest +woe,†and in a tone almost reverential, +he continued: “I remember a picture in +one of our Italian galleries that always +impressed me as the ideal image of +maternal happiness. It is a painting of +the Christ-mother standing by the body +of the Crucified. Beauty was still hers, +and the dress of grayish hue, nun-like in +its simplicity, seemed more than royal +robe. Her face, illumined as with a light +from heaven, seemed inspired with this +thought: ‘They have killed Him—they +have killed my son! Oh, God, I thank +Thee that His suffering is at an end!’ +And as I gazed at the holy face, another +<a class="pagenum" id="page7" title="7"> </a>light seemed to change it by degrees +from saddened motherhood to +triumphant woman! Then came: ‘He +is not dead, He but sleeps; He will +rise again, for He is the best beloved +of the Father!’â€</p> + +<p>“Still, fate can rob us of our patrimony,†+she replied, after a pause.</p> + +<p>“Not while life is here and eternity +beyond,†he said, reassuringly.</p> + +<p>“What if a soul lies dormant and +will not arouse?†she asked.</p> + +<p>“There are souls that have no motive +low enough for earth, but only high +enough for heaven,†he said, with evident +intention, looking almost directly +at her.</p> + +<p>“Then one must come who speaks +in nature’s tongue,†she continued.</p> + +<p>“And the soul will then awake,†he +added earnestly. +<a class="pagenum" id="page8" title="8"> </a> +“But is there such a one?†she +asked.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,†he almost whispered, his +thought father to the wish.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid not,†she sighed. “I +studied drawing, worked diligently and, +I hope, intelligently, and yet I was +quickly convinced that a counterfeit +presentment of nature was puny and insignificant. +I painted Niagara. My +friends praised my effort. I saw Niagara +again—I destroyed the picture.â€</p> + +<p>“But you must be prepared to accept +the limitations of man and his +work,†said the philosophical violinist.</p> + +<p>“Annihilation of one’s own identity +in the moment is possible in nature’s +domain—never in man’s. The resistless, +never-ending rush of the waters, +madly churning, pitilessly dashing +against the rocks below; the mighty +roar of the loosened giant; that was +<a class="pagenum" id="page9" title="9"> </a>Niagara. My picture seemed but a +smear of paint.â€</p> + +<div id="illo2" class="illo"> + <a href="images/illo2.jpg"><img src="images/illo2-th.jpg" width="349" height="510" alt="A man and a woman in evening dress stand in conversation" /></a> +</div> + +<p>“Still, man has won the admiration +of man by his achievements,†he said.</p> + +<p>“Alas, for me,†she sighed, “I have +not felt it.â€</p> + +<p>“Surely you have been stirred by the +wonders man has accomplished in music’s +realm?†Diotti ventured.</p> + +<p>“I never have been.†She spoke +sadly and reflectively.</p> + +<p>“But does not the passion-laden theme +of a master, or the marvelous feeling of +a player awaken your emotions?†persisted +he.</p> + +<p>She stood leaning lightly against a +pillar by the fountain. “I never hear a +pianist, however great and famous, but +I see the little cream-colored hammers +within the piano bobbing up and down +like acrobatic brownies. I never hear +the plaudits of the crowd for the +<a class="pagenum" id="page10" title="10"> </a>artist and watch him return to bow his +thanks, but I mentally demand that +these little acrobats, each resting on an +individual pedestal, and weary from his +efforts, shall appear to receive a share +of the applause.</p> + +<p>“When I listen to a great singer,†+continued this world-defying skeptic, +“trilling like a thrush, scampering over +the scales, I see a clumsy lot of ah, ah, +ahs, awkwardly, uncertainly ambling up +the gamut, saying, ‘were it not for us +she could not sing thus—give us our +meed of praise.’â€</p> + +<p>Slowly he replied: “Masters have +written in wondrous language and masters +have played with wondrous power.â€</p> + +<p>“And I so long to hear,†she said, +almost plaintively. “I marvel at the +invention of the composer and the skill +of the player, but there I cease.â€</p> + +<p>He looked at her intently. She was +<a class="pagenum" id="page11" title="11"> </a>standing before him, not a block of +chiseled ice, but a beautiful, breathing +woman. He offered her his arm and +together they made their way to the +drawing-room.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps, some day, one will come +who can sing a song of perfect love in +perfect tones, and your soul will be attuned +to his melody.â€</p> + +<p>“Perhaps—and good-night,†she +softly said, leaving his arm and joining +her friends, who accompanied her to the +carriage.</p> + +<div id="illo3" class="illo"> + <a href="images/illo3.jpg"><img src="images/illo3-th.jpg" width="275" height="414" alt="Flyer announcing Diotti's first appearance in America" /></a> +</div> +</div> +<div id="chapter_2" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page12" title="12"> </a> +<h2>II</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">The</span> intangible something that places +the stamp of popular approval on +one musical enterprise, while another +equally artistic and as cleverly managed +languishes in a condition of unendorsed +greatness, remains one of the unsolved +mysteries.</p> + +<p>When a worker in the vineyard of +music or the drama offers his choicest +tokay to the public, that fickle coquette +may turn to the more ordinary and less +succulent concord. And the worker +and the public itself know not why.</p> + +<p>It is true, Diotti’s fame had preceded +him, but fame has preceded others and +<a class="pagenum" id="page13" title="13"> </a>has not always been proof against financial +disaster. All this preliminary,—and +it is but necessary to recall that on the +evening of December the twelfth Diotti +made his initial bow in New York, to +an audience that completely filled every +available space in the Academy of +Music—a representative audience, distinguished +alike for beauty, wealth and +discernment.</p> + +<p>When the violinist appeared for his +solo, he quietly acknowledged the cordial +reception of the audience, and immediately +proceeded with the business +of the evening. At a slight nod from +him the conductor rapped attention, +then launched the orchestra into the +introduction of the concerto, Diotti’s +favorite, selected for the first number. +As the violinist turned to the conductor +he faced slightly to the left and in +a direct line with the second proscenium +<a class="pagenum" id="page14" title="14"> </a>box. His poise was admirable. He was +handsome, with the olive-tinted warmth +of his southern home—fairly tall, straight-limbed +and lithe—a picture of poetic +grace. His was the face of a man who +trusted without reserve, the manner of +one who believed implicitly, feeling +that good was universal and evil accidental.</p> + +<p>As the music grew louder and the +orchestra approached the peroration of +the preface of the coming solo, the violinist +raised his head slowly. Suddenly +his eyes met the gaze of the solitary +occupant of the second proscenium box. +His face flushed. He looked inquiringly, +almost appealingly, at her. She sat +immovable and serene, a lace-framed +vision in white.</p> + +<p>It was she who, since he had met +her, only the night before, held his very +soul in thraldom.</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page15" title="15"> </a>He lifted his bow, tenderly placing it +on the strings. Faintly came the first +measures of the theme. The melody, +noble, limpid and beautiful, floated in +dreamy sway over the vast auditorium, +and seemed to cast a mystic glamour +over the player. As the final note of +the first movement was dying away, the +audience, awakening from its delicious +trance, broke forth into spontaneous +bravos.</p> + +<p>Mildred Wallace, scrutinizing the +program, merely drew her wrap closer +about her shoulders and sat more erect. +At the end of the concerto the applause +was generous enough to satisfy the most +exacting <em>virtuoso</em>. Diotti unquestionably +had scored the greatest triumph of +his career. But the lady in the box had +remained silent and unaffected throughout.</p> + +<p>The poor fellow had seen only her during +<a class="pagenum" id="page16" title="16"> </a>the time he played, and the mighty +cheers that came from floor and galleries +struck upon his ear like the echoes +of mocking demons. Leaving the stage +he hurried to his dressing-room and +sank into a chair. He had persuaded +himself she should not be insensible to +his genius, but the dying ashes of his +hopes, his dreams, were smouldering, +and in his despair came the thought: +“I am not great enough for her. I am +but a man; her consort should be a god. +Her soul, untouched by human passion +or human skill, demands the power of +god-like genius to arouse it.â€</p> + +<p>Music lovers crowded into his dressing-room, +enthusiastic in their praises. +Cards conveying delicate compliments +written in delicate chirography poured +in upon him, but in vain he looked for +some sign, some word from her.</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page17" title="17"> </a>Quickly he left the theater and sought +his hotel.</p> + +<p>A menacing cloud obscured the wintry +moon. A clock sounded the midnight +hour.</p> + +<p>He threw himself upon the bed and +almost sobbed his thoughts, and their +burden was:</p> + +<p>“I am not great enough for her. I +am but a man. I am but a man!â€</p> +</div> +<div id="chapter_3" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page18" title="18"> </a> +<h2>III</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">Perkins</span> called in the morning. +Perkins was happy—Perkins was +positively joyous, and Perkins was self-satisfied. +The violinist had made a +great hit. But Perkins, confiding in +the white-coated dispenser who concocted +his <em>matin Martini</em>, very dry, an +hour before, said he regarded the success +due as much to the management as +to the artist. And Perkins believed it. +Perkins usually took all the credit for a +success, and with charming consistency +placed all responsibility for failure on the +shoulders of the hapless artist.</p> + +<p>When Perkins entered Diotti’s room +<a class="pagenum" id="page19" title="19"> </a>he found the violinist heavy-eyed and +dejected. “My dear Signor,†he began, +showing a large envelope bulging with +newspaper clippings, “I have brought +the notices. They are quite the limit, I +assure you. Nothing like them ever +heard before—all tuned in the same +key, as you musical fellows would say,†+and Perkins cocked his eye.</p> + +<p>Perkins enjoyed a glorious reputation +with himself for bright sayings, which +he always accompanied with a cock of +the eye. The musician not showing any +visible appreciation of the manager’s +metaphor, Perkins immediately proceeded +to uncock his eye.</p> + +<p>“Passed the box-office coming up,†+continued this voluble enlightener; +“nothing left but a few seats in the top +gallery. We’ll stand them on their +heads to-morrow night—see if we +don’t.†Then he handed the bursting +<a class="pagenum" id="page20" title="20"> </a>envelope of notices to Diotti, who listlessly +put them on the table at his side.</p> + +<p>“Too tired to read, eh?†said Perkins, +and then with the advance-agent +instinct strong within him he selected a +clipping, and touching the violinist on +the shoulder: “Let me read this one to +you. It is by Herr Totenkellar. He +is a hard nut to crack, but he did himself +proud this time. Great critic when +he wants to be.â€</p> + +<p>Perkins cleared his throat and began: +“Diotti combines tremendous feeling +with equally tremendous technique. +The entire audience was under the +witchery of his art.†Diotti slowly negatived +that statement with bowed head. +“His tone is full, round and clear; his +interpretation lends a story-telling charm +to the music; for, while we drank deep +at the fountain of exquisite melody, we +saw sparkling within the waters the +<a class="pagenum" id="page21" title="21"> </a>lights of Paradise. New York never +has heard his equal. He stands alone, +pre-eminent, an artistic giant.â€</p> + +<p>“Now, that’s what I call great,†said +the impresario, dramatically; “when +you hit Totenkellar that way you are +good for all kinds of money.â€</p> + +<p>Perkins took his hat and cane and +moved toward the door. The violinist +arose and extended his hand wearily. +“Good-day†came simultaneously; +then “I’m off. We’ll turn ’em +away to-morrow; see if we don’t!†+Whereupon Perkins left Diotti alone in +his misery.</p> +</div> +<div id="chapter_4" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page22" title="22"> </a> + +<h2>IV</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">It</span> was the evening of the fourteenth. +In front of the Academy a strong-lunged +and insistent tribe of gentry, +known as ticket speculators, were reaping +a rich harvest. They represented a +beacon light of hope to many tardy patrons +of the evening’s entertainment, +especially to the man who had forgotten +his wife’s injunction “to be sure +to buy the tickets on the way down +town, dear, and get them in the family +circle, not too far back.†This man’s +intentions were sincere, but his newspaper +was unusually interesting that morning. +He was deeply engrossed in an +<a class="pagenum" id="page23" title="23"> </a>article on the causes leading to matrimonial +infelicities when his ‘bus passed +the Academy box-office.</p> + +<p>He was six blocks farther down town +when he finished the article, only to +find that it was a carefully worded +advertisement for a new patent medicine, +and of course he had not time to +return. “Oh, well,†said he, “I’ll get +them when I go up town to-night.â€</p> + +<p>But he did not. So with fear in his +heart and a red-faced woman on his +arm he approached the box-office. +“Not a seat left,†sounded to his hen-pecked +ears like the concluding words +of the black-robed judge: “and may the +Lord have mercy upon your soul.†But +a reprieve came, for one of the aforesaid +beacon lights of hope rushed forward, +saying: “I have two good seats, not +far back, and only ten apiece.†And +the gentleman with fear in his heart +<a class="pagenum" id="page24" title="24"> </a>and the red-faced woman on his arm +passed in.</p> + +<p>They saw the largest crowd in the +history of the Academy. Every seat was +occupied, every foot of standing room +taken. Chairs were placed in the side +aisles. The programs announced that +it was the second appearance in America +of Angelo Diotti, the renowned Tuscan +violinist.</p> + +<p>The orchestra had perfunctorily +ground out the overture to “Der Freischuetz,†+the baritone had stentorianly +emitted “Dio Possente,†the soprano +was working her way through the closing +measures of the mad scene from “Lucia,†+and Diotti was number four on +the program. The conductor stood beside +his platform, ready to ascend as +Diotti appeared.</p> + +<p>The audience, ever ready to act when +those on the stage cease that occupation, +<a class="pagenum" id="page25" title="25"> </a>gave a splendid imitation of the historic +last scene at the Tower of Babel. +Having accomplished this to its evident +satisfaction, the audience proceeded, like +the closing phrase of the “Goetterdaemmerung†+Dead March, to become exceedingly +quiet—then expectant.</p> + +<p>This expectancy lasted fully three +minutes. Then there were some impatient +handclappings. A few persons +whispered: “Why is he late?†“Why +doesn’t he come?†“I wonder where +Diotti is,†and then came unmistakable +signs of impatience. At its height Perkins +appeared, hesitatingly. Nervous +and jerky he walked to the center of +the stage, and raised his hand begging +silence. The audience was stilled.</p> + +<p>“Ladies and gentlemen,†he falteringly +said, “Signor Diotti left his hotel +at seven o’clock and was driven to the +Academy. The call-boy rapped at his +<a class="pagenum" id="page26" title="26"> </a>dressing-room, and not receiving a reply, +opened the door to find the room +empty. We have despatched searchers +in every direction and have sent out a +police alarm. We fear some accident +has befallen the Signor. We ask your +indulgence for the keen disappointment, +and beg to say that your money will be +refunded at the box-office.â€</p> + +<p>Diotti had disappeared as completely +as though the earth had swallowed +him.</p> +</div> +<div id="chapter_5" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page27" title="27"> </a> + +<h2>V</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">My dearest sister:</span> You +doubtless were exceedingly mystified +and troubled over the report that +was flashed to Europe regarding my +sudden disappearance on the eve of my +second concert in New York.</p> + +<p>Fearing, sweet Francesca, that you +might mourn me as dead, I sent the +cablegram you received some weeks +since, telling you to be of good heart +and await my letter. To make my action +thoroughly understood I must give +you a record of what happened to me +from the first day I arrived in America. +I found a great interest manifested +<a class="pagenum" id="page28" title="28"> </a>in my première, and socially everything +was done to make me happy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. James Llewellyn, whom, you +no doubt remember, we met in Florence +the winter of 18—, immediately after I +reached New York arranged a reception +for me, which was elegant in the +extreme. But from that night dates +my misery.</p> + +<p>You ask her name?—Mildred Wallace. +Tell me what she is like, I hear +you say. Of graceful height, willowy +and exquisitely molded, not over twenty-four, +with the face of a Madonna; +wondrous eyes of darkest blue, hair indescribable +in its maze of tawny color—in +a word, the perfection of womanhood. +In half an hour I was her abject +slave, and proud in my serfdom. +When I returned to the hotel that evening +I could not sleep. Her image ever +was before me, elusive and shadowy. +<a class="pagenum" id="page29" title="29"> </a>And yet we seemed to grow farther and +farther apart—she nearer heaven, I +nearer earth.</p> + +<p>The next evening I gave my first and +what I fear may prove my last concert +in America. The vision of my dreams +was there, radiant in rarest beauty. +Singularly enough, she was in the direct +line of my vision while I played. +I saw only her, played but for her, and +cast my soul at her feet. She sat indifferent +and silent. “Cold?†you say. No! +No! Francesca, not cold; superior to +my poor efforts. I realized my limitations. +I questioned my genius. When +I returned to bow my acknowledgments +for the most generous applause I have +ever received, there was no sign on her +part that I had interested her, either +through my talent or by appeal to her +curiosity. I hoped against hope that +some word might come from her, but I +<a class="pagenum" id="page30" title="30"> </a>was doomed to disappointment. The +critics were fulsome in their praise and +the public was lavish with its plaudits, +but I was abjectly miserable. Another +sleepless night and I was determined to +see her. She received me most graciously, +although I fear she thought my +visit one of vanity—wounded vanity—and +me petulant because of her lack of +appreciation.</p> + +<p>Oh, sister mine, I knew better. I +knew my heart craved one word, however +matter-of-fact, that would rekindle +the hope that was dying within me.</p> + +<p>Hesitatingly, and like a clumsy yokel, +I blurted: “I have been wondering +whether you cared for the performance +I gave?â€</p> + +<p>“It certainly ought to make little +difference to you,†she replied; “the +public was enthusiastic enough in its +endorsement.â€</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page31" title="31"> </a>“But I want your opinion,†I pleaded.</p> + +<p>“My opinion would not at all affect +the almost unanimous verdict,†she +replied calmly.</p> + +<p>“And,†I urged desperately, “you +were not affected in the least?â€</p> + +<p>Very coldly she answered, “Not in +the least;†and then fearlessly, like a +princess in the Palace of Truth: “If +ever a man comes who can awaken my +heart, frankly and honestly I will confess +it.â€</p> + +<p>“Perhaps such a one lives,†I said, +“but has yet to reach the height to win +you—your—â€</p> + +<p>“Speak it,†she said, “to win my +love!â€</p> + +<p>“Yes,†I cried, startled at her candor, +“to win your love.†Hope slowly +rekindled within my breast, and then +<a class="pagenum" id="page32" title="32"> </a>with half-closed eyes, and wooingly, she +said:</p> + +<p>“No drooping Clytie could be more +constant than I to him who strikes the +chord that is responsive in my soul.â€</p> + +<p>Her emotion must have surprised her, +but immediately she regained her placidity +and reverted no more to the subject.</p> + +<p>I went out into the gathering gloom. +Her words haunted me. A strange +feeling came over me. A voice within +me cried: “Do not play to-night. +Study! study! Perhaps in the full fruition +of your genius your music, like the +warm western wind to the harp, may +bring life to her soul.â€</p> + +<p>I fled, and I am here. I am delving +deeper and deeper into the mysteries of +my art, and I pray God each hour that +He may place within my grasp the +wondrous music His blessed angels +<a class="pagenum" id="page33" title="33"> </a>sing, for the soul of her I love is attuned +to the harmonies of heaven.</p> + +<p class="signature">Your affectionate brother,<br /> +<span class="signed special_name">Angelo.</span></p> +<p><span class="special_name">Island of Bahama</span>, January 2.</p> +</div> +<div id="chapter_6" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page34" title="34"> </a> + +<h2>VI</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">When</span> Diotti left New York so +precipitately he took passage +on a coast line steamer sailing for the +Bahama Islands. Once there, he leased +a small <em>cay</em>, one of a group off the main +land, and lived alone and unattended, +save for the weekly visits of an old +fisherman and his son, who brought +supplies of provisions from the town +miles away. His dwelling-place, surrounded +with palmetto trees, was little +more than a rough shelter. Diotti arose +at daylight, and after a simple repast, +betook himself to practise. Hour after +hour he would let his muse run riot +<a class="pagenum" id="page35" title="35"> </a>with his fingers. Lovingly he wooed +the strings with plaintive song, then +conquering and triumphant would be +his theme. But neither satisfied him. +The vague dream of a melody more +beautiful than ever man had heard +dwelt hauntingly on the borders of his +imagination, but was no nearer realization +than when he began. As the day’s +work closed, he wearily placed the +violin within its case, murmuring, +“Not yet, not yet; I have not found it.â€</p> + +<p>Days passed, weeks crept slowly +on; still he worked, but always +with the same result. One day, +feverish and excited, he played on +in monotone almost listless. His tired, +over-wrought brain denied a further +thought. His arm and fingers refused +response to his will. With an uncontrollable +outburst of grief and anger he +dashed the violin to the floor, where it +<a class="pagenum" id="page36" title="36"> </a>lay a hopeless wreck. Extending his +arms he cried, in the agony of despair: +“It is of no use! If the God of heaven +will not aid me, I ask the prince of +darkness to come.â€</p> + +<p>A tall, rather spare, but well-made +and handsome man appeared at the +door of the hut. His manner was that of +one evidently conversant with the usages +of good society.</p> + +<p>“I beg pardon,†said the musician, +surprised and visibly nettled at the intrusion, +and then with forced politeness +he asked: “To whom am I indebted +for this unexpected visit?â€</p> + +<p>“Allow me,†said the stranger taking +a card from his case and handing +it to the musician, who read: “Satan,†+and, in the lower left-hand corner, +“Prince of Darkness.â€</p> + +<p>“I am the Prince,†said the stranger, +bowing low.</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page37" title="37"> </a>There was no hint of the pavement-made +ruler in the information he gave, +but rather of the desire of one gentleman +to set another right at the beginning. +The musician assumed a position +of open-mouthed wonder, gazing +steadily at the visitor.</p> + +<p>“Satan?†he whispered hoarsely.</p> + +<p>“You need help and advice,†said +the visitor, his voice sounding like that +of a disciple of the healing art, and implying +that he had thoroughly diagnosed +the case.</p> + +<p>“No, no,†cried the shuddering violinist; +“go away. I do not need you.â€</p> + +<p>“I regret I can not accept that statement +as gospel truth,†said Satan, sarcastically, +“for if ever a man needed +help, you are that man.â€</p> + +<p>“But not from you,†replied Diotti.</p> + +<p>“That statement is discredited also +<a class="pagenum" id="page38" title="38"> </a>by your outburst of a few moments ago +when you called upon me.â€</p> + +<p>“I do not need you,†reiterated the +musician. “I will have none of you!†+and he waved his arm toward the door, +as if he desired the interview to end.</p> + +<p>“I came at your behest, actuated +entirely by kindness of heart,†said Satan.</p> + +<p>Diotti laughed derisively, and Satan, +showing just the slightest feeling at +Diotti’s behavior, said reprovingly: “If +you will listen a moment, and not be so +rude to an utter stranger, we may reach +some conclusion to your benefit.â€</p> + +<p>“Get thee behind—â€</p> + +<p>“I know exactly what you were about +to say. Have no fears on that score. +I have no demands to make and no impossible +compacts to insist upon.â€</p> + +<p>“I have heard of you before,†knowingly +<a class="pagenum" id="page39" title="39"> </a>spoke the violinist, nodding his +head sadly.</p> + +<p>“No doubt you have,†smilingly. +“My reputation, which has suffered at +the hands of irresponsible people, is not +of the best, and places me at times in +awkward positions. But I am beginning +to live it down.†The stranger +looked contrition itself. “To prove my +sincerity I desire to help you win her +love,†emphasizing her.</p> + +<p>“How can you help me?â€</p> + +<p>“Very easily. You have been wasting +time, energy and health in a wild +desire to play better. The trouble lies +not with you.â€</p> + +<p>“Not with me?†interrupted the violinist, +now thoroughly interested.</p> + +<p>“The trouble lies not with you,†repeated +the visitor, “but with the miserable +violin you have been using and have +<a class="pagenum" id="page40" title="40"> </a>just destroyed,†and he pointed to the +shattered instrument.</p> + +<p>Tears welled from the poor violinist’s +eyes as he gazed on the fragments of his +beloved violin, the pieces lying scattered +about as the result of his unfortunate +anger.</p> + +<p>“It was a Stradivarius,†said Diotti, +sadly.</p> + +<p>“Had it been a Stradivarius, an Amati +or a Guarnerius, or a host of others rolled +into one, you would not have found in +it the melody to win the heart of the +woman you love. Get a better and +more suitable instrument.â€</p> + +<p>“Where is one?†earnestly interrogated +Diotti, vaguely realizing that +Satan knew.</p> + +<p>“In my possession,†Satan replied.</p> + +<p>“She would hate me if she knew I +had recourse to the powers of darkness +<a class="pagenum" id="page41" title="41"> </a>to gain her love,†bitterly interposed +Diotti.</p> + +<p>Satan, wincing at this uncomplimentary +allusion to himself, replied rather +warmly: “My dear sir, were it not for +the fact that I feel in particularly good +spirits this morning, I should resent your +ill-timed remarks and leave you to end +your miserable existence with rope or +pistol,†and Satan pantomimed both +suicidal contingencies.</p> + +<p>“Do you want the violin or not?â€</p> + +<p>“I might look at it,†said Diotti, resolving +mentally that he could go so +far without harm.</p> + +<p>“Very well,†said Satan. He gave +a long whistle.</p> + +<p>An old man, bearing a violin case, +came within the room. He bowed to +the wondering Diotti, and proceeded to +open the case. Taking the instrument +<a class="pagenum" id="page42" title="42"> </a>out the old man fondled it with loving +and tender solicitude, pointing out its +many beauties—the exquisite blending +of the curves, the evenness of the grain, +the peculiar coloring, the lovely contour +of the neck, the graceful outlines of the +body, the scroll, rivaling the creations +of the ancient sculptors, the solidity of +the bridge and its elegantly carved heart, +and, waxing exceedingly enthusiastic, +holding up the instrument and looking +at it as one does at a cluster of gems, he +added, “the adjustment of the strings.â€</p> + +<p>“That will do,†interrupted Satan, +taking the violin from the little man, +who bowed low and ceremoniously +took his departure. Then the devil, +pointing to the instrument, asked: “Isn’t +it a beauty?â€</p> + +<p>The musician, eying it keenly, replied: +“Yes, it is, but not the kind of +violin I play on.â€</p> + +<div id="illo4" class="illo"> + <a href="images/illo4.jpg"><img src="images/illo4-th.jpg" width="352" height="500" alt="A bearded old man kneels and holds up a violin, while a young man watches over his shoulder" /></a> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page43" title="43"> </a>“Oh, I see,†carelessly observed the +other, “you refer to that extra string.â€</p> + +<p>“Yes,†answered the puzzled violinist, +examining it closely.</p> + +<p>“Allow me to explain the peculiar +characteristics of this magnificent instrument,†+said his satanic majesty. “This +string,†pointing to the G, “is the +string of pity; this one,†referring to the +third, “is the string of hope; this,†+plunking the A, “is attuned to love, +while this one, the E string, gives forth +sounds of joy.</p> + +<p>“You will observe,†went on the +visitor, noting the intense interest displayed +by the violinist, “that the position +of the strings is the same as on any +other violin, and therefore will require +no additional study on your part.â€</p> + +<p>“But that extra string?†interrupted +Diotti, designating the middle one on +<a class="pagenum" id="page44" title="44"> </a>the violin, a vague foreboding rising +within him.</p> + +<p>“That,†said Mephistopheles, solemnly, +and with no pretense of sophistry, +“is the string of death, and he who +plays upon it dies at once.â€</p> + +<p>“The—string—of—death!†repeated +the violinist almost inaudibly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, the string of death,†Satan repeated, +“and he who plays upon it dies +at once. But,†he added cheerfully, +“that need not worry you. I noticed a +marvelous facility in your arm work. +Your staccato and spiccato are wonderful. +Every form of bowing appears +child’s play to you. It will be easy for +you to avoid touching the string.â€</p> + +<p>“Why avoid it? Can it not be cut +off?â€</p> + +<p>“Ah, that’s the rub. If you examine +the violin closely you will find +that the string of death is made up of +<a class="pagenum" id="page45" title="45"> </a>the extra lengths of the other four +strings. To cut it off would destroy the +others, and then pity, hope, love and joy +would cease to exist in the soul of the +violin.â€</p> + +<p>“How like life itself,†Diotti reflected, +“pity, hope, love, joy end in +death, and through death they are born +again.â€</p> + +<p>“That’s the idea, precisely,†said +Satan, evidently relieved by Diotti’s +logic and quick perception.</p> + +<p>The violinist examined the instrument +with the practised eye of an expert, and +turning to Satan said: “The four +strings are beautifully white and transparent, +but this one is black and odd +looking.</p> + +<p>“What is it wrapped with?†eagerly +inquired Diotti, examining the death +string with microscopic care.</p> + +<p>“The fifth string was added after an +<a class="pagenum" id="page46" title="46"> </a>unfortunate episode in the Garden of +Eden, in which I was somewhat concerned,†+said Satan, soberly. “It is +wrapped with strands of hair from the +first mother of man.†Impressively then +he offered the violin to Diotti.</p> + +<p>“I dare not take it,†said the perplexed +musician; “it’s from—â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is directly from there, but I +brought it from heaven when I—I left,†+said the fallen angel, with remorse in +his voice. “It was my constant companion +there. But no one in my domain—not +I, myself—can play upon it +now, for it will respond neither to our +longing for pity, hope, love, joy, nor +even death,†and sadly and retrospectively +Satan gazed into vacancy; then, +after a long pause: “Try the instrument!â€</p> + +<p>Diotti placed the violin in position +<a class="pagenum" id="page47" title="47"> </a>and drew the bow across the string of +joy, improvising on it. Almost instantly +the birds of the forest darted hither and +thither, caroling forth in gladsome +strains. The devil alone was sad, and +with emotion said:</p> + +<p>“It is many, many years since I +have heard that string.â€</p> + +<p>Next the artist changed to the string +of pity, and thoughts of the world’s +sorrows came over him like a pall.</p> + +<p>“Wonderful, most wonderful!†said +the mystified violinist; “with this instrument +I can conquer the world!â€</p> + +<p>“Aye, more to you than the world,†+said the tempter, “a woman’s love.â€</p> + +<p>A woman’s love—to the despairing +suitor there was one and only one in this +wide, wide world, and her words, burning +their way into his heart, had made +this temptation possible: “No drooping +<a class="pagenum" id="page48" title="48"> </a>Clytie could be more constant than +I to him who strikes the chord that is +responsive in my soul.â€</p> + +<p>Holding the violin aloft, he cried exultingly: +“Henceforth thou art mine, +though death and oblivion lurk ever +near thee!â€</p> +</div> +<div id="chapter_7" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page49" title="49"> </a> +<h2>VII</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">Perkins</span>, seated in his office, +threw the morning, paper aside. +“It’s no use,†he said, turning to the +office boy, “I don’t believe they ever +will find him, dead or alive. Whoever +put up the job on Diotti was a past +grand master at that sort of thing. The +silent assassin that lurks in the shadow +of the midnight moon is an explosion of +dynamite compared to the party that +made way with Diotti. You ask, why +should they kill him? My boy, you +don’t know the world. They were +jealous of his enormous hit, of our +dazzling success. Jealousy did it.†+<a class="pagenum" id="page50" title="50"> </a> +The “they†of Perkins comprised +rival managers, rival artists, newspaper +critics and everybody at large +who would not concede that the attractions +managed by Perkins were the +“greatest on earth.â€</p> + +<p>“We’ll never see his like again—come +in!†this last in answer to a knock.</p> + +<p>Diotti appeared at the open door. +Perkins jumped like one shot from a +catapult, and rushing toward the silent +figure in the doorway exclaimed: “Bless +my soul, are you a ghost?â€</p> + +<p>“A substantial one,†said Diotti with +a smile.</p> + +<p>“Are you really here?†continued +the astonished impresario, using Diotti’s +arm as a pump handle and pinching +him at the same time.</p> + +<p>When they were seated Perkins plied +Diotti with all manner of questions: +“How did it happen?†“How did you +<a class="pagenum" id="page51" title="51"> </a>escape?†and the like, all of which Diotti +parried with monosyllabic replies, finally +saying: “I was dissatisfied with my +playing and went away to study.â€</p> + +<p>“Do you know that the failure to fulfill +your contract has cost me at least ten +thousand dollars?†said the shrewd +manager, the commercial side of his +nature asserting itself.</p> + +<p>“All of which I will pay,†quietly +replied the artist. “Besides I am ready +to play now, and you can announce a +concert within a week if you like.â€</p> + +<p>“If I like?†cried the hustling Perkins. +“Here, James,†calling his office +boy, “run down to the printer’s +and give him this,†making a note of +the various sizes of “paper†he desired, +“and tell Mr. Tompkins that Diotti is +back and will give a concert next Tuesday. +Tell Smith to prepare the newspaper +‘ads’ and notices immediately.â€</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page52" title="52"> </a>In an hour Perkins had the entire +machinery of his office in motion. +Within twenty-four hours New York +had several versions of the disappearance +and return, all leading to one +common point—that Diotti would give +a concert the coming Tuesday evening.</p> + +<p>The announcement of the reappearance +of the Tuscan contained a line +to the effect that the violinist would play +for the first time his new suite—a meditation +on the emotions.</p> + +<p>He had not seen Mildred.</p> + +<p>As he came upon the stage that night +the lights were turned low, and naught +but the shadowy outlines of player and +violin were seen. His reception by the +audience was not enthusiastic. They +evidently remembered the disappointment +caused by his unexpected disappearance, +but this unfriendly attitude +<a class="pagenum" id="page53" title="53"> </a>soon gave way to evidences of kindlier +feelings.</p> + +<p>Mildred was there, more beautiful +than ever, and to gain her love Diotti +would have bartered his soul that moment.</p> + +<p>The first movement of the suite was +entitled “Pity,†and the music flowed +like melodious tears. A subdued sob +rose and fell with the sadness of the +theme.</p> + +<p>Mildred’s eyes were moistened as +she fixed them on the lone figure of the +player.</p> + +<p>Now the theme of pity changed to +hope, and hearts grew brighter under the +spell. The next movement depicted joy. +As the <em>virtuoso’s</em> fingers darted here and +there, his music seemed the very laughter +of fairy voices, the earth looked roses +and sunshine, and Mildred, relaxing her +<a class="pagenum" id="page54" title="54"> </a>position and leaning forward in the box, +with lips slightly parted, was the picture +of eager happiness.</p> + +<p>The final movement came. Its subject +was love. The introduction depicted +the Arcadian beauty of the +trysting place, love-lit eyes sought each +other intuitively and a great peace +brooded over the hearts of all. Then +followed the song of the Passionate Pilgrim:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p>“If music and sweet poetry agree,</p> +<p>As they must needs, the sister and the brother,</p> +<p>Then must the love be great ’twixt thee and me</p> +<p>Because thou lov’st the one, and I the other.</p> +<p class="poetry_break">* * * * </p> +<p>Thou lov’st to hear the sweet melodious sound</p> +<p>That PhÅ“bus’ lute (the queen of music) makes;</p> +<p>And I in deep delight, am chiefly drown’d</p> +<p>When as himself to singing he betakes.</p> +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page55" title="55"> </a>One god is god of both, as poets feign,</p> +<p>One knight loves both, and both in thee remain.â€</p> +</div> + +<div id="illo5" class="illo"> + <img src="images/illo5-th.jpg" width="354" height="509" alt="A man holds the hand of a woman in a reception room." /> + <p class="caption">He took her hand reverently</p> +</div> + +<p>Grander and grander the melody +rose, voicing love’s triumph with wondrous +sweetness and palpitating rhythm. +Mildred, her face flushed with excitement, +a heavenly fire in her eyes and in +an attitude of supplication, reveled in +the glory of a new found emotion.</p> + +<p>As the violinist concluded his performance +an oppressive silence pervaded +the house, then the audience, wild with +excitement, burst into thunders of applause. +In his dressing-room Diotti +was besieged by hosts of people, congratulating +him in extravagant terms.</p> + +<p>Mildred Wallace came, extending her +hands. He took them almost reverently. +She looked into his eyes, and +he knew he had struck the chord responsive +in her soul.</p> + +</div> +<div id="chapter_8" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page56" title="56"> </a> +<h2>VIII</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">The</span> sun was high in the heavens +when the violinist awoke. A great +weight had been lifted from his heart; +he had passed from darkness into dawn.</p> + +<p>A messenger brought him this note:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + <p>My Dear Signor Diotti—I am at home this + afternoon, and shall be delighted to see you and + return my thanks for the exquisite pleasure you + gave me last evening. Music, such as yours, + is indeed the voice of heaven.</p> + <p class="signature">Sincerely,<br /> + <span class="signed">Mildred Wallace.</span></p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>The messenger returned with this reply:</p> + + +<blockquote class="letter"> + <p>My Dear Miss Wallace—I will call at three + to-day.</p> + <p class="signature">Gratefully,<br /> + <span class="signed">Angelo Diotti.</span></p> +</blockquote> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page57" title="57"> </a>He watched the hour drag from eleven +to twelve, then counted the minutes to +one, and from that time until he left the +hotel each second was tabulated in his +mind. Arriving at her residence, he +was ushered into the drawing-room. It +was fragrant with the perfume of violets, +and he stood gazing at her portrait +expectant of her coming.</p> + +<p>Dressed in simple white, entrancing +in her youthful freshness, she entered, +her face glowing with happiness, her +eyes languorous and expressive. She +hastened to him, offering both hands. +He held them in a loving, tender grasp, +and for a moment neither spoke. Then +she, gazing clearly and fearlessly into +his eyes, said: “My heart has found its +melody!â€</p> + +<p>He, kneeling like Sir Gareth of old: +“The song and the singer are yours +forever.â€</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page58" title="58"> </a>She, bidding him arise: “And I forever +yours.†And wondering at her +boldness, she added, “I know and feel +that you love me—your eyes confirmed +your love before you spoke.†Then, +convincingly and ingenuously, “I knew +you loved me the moment we first met. +Then I did not understand what that +meant to you, now I do.â€</p> + +<p>He drew her gently to him, and the +motive of their happiness was defined +in sweet confessions: “My love, my +life—My life, my love.â€</p> + +<p>The magic of his music had changed +her very being, the breath of love was +in her soul, the vision of love was dancing +in her eyes. The child of marble, +like the statue of old, had come to life:</p> + + +<div class="poem"> + <p class="i12">“And not long since</p> + <p>I was a cold, dull stone! I recollect</p> + <p>That by some means I knew that I was stone;</p> + <p>That was the first dull gleam of consciousness;</p> + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page59" title="59"> </a>I became conscious of a chilly self,</p> + <p>A cold, immovable identity.</p> + <p>I knew that I was stone, and knew no more!</p> + <p>Then, by an imperceptible advance,</p> + <p>Came the dim evidence of outer things,</p> + <p>Seen—darkly and imperfectly—yet seen</p> + <p>The walls surrounding me, and I, alone.</p> + <p>That pedestal—that curtain—then a voice</p> + <p>That called on Galatea! At that word,</p> + <p>Which seemed to shake my marble to the core,</p> + <p>That which was dim before, came evident.</p> + <p>Sounds, that had hummed around me, indistinct,</p> + <p>Vague, meaningless—seemed to resolve themselves</p> + <p>Into a language I could understand;</p> + <p>I felt my frame pervaded by a glow</p> + <p>That seemed to thaw my marble into flesh;</p> + <p>Its cold, hard substance throbbed with active life,</p> + <p>My limbs grew supple, and I moved—I lived!</p> + <p>Lived in the ecstasy of a new-born life!</p> + <p>Lived in the love of him that fashioned me!</p> + <p>Lived in a thousand tangled thoughts of hope.â€</p> +</div> + +<p>Day after day he came; they told their +<a class="pagenum" id="page60" title="60"> </a>love, their hopes, their ambitions. She +assumed absolute proprietorship in him. +She gloried in her possession.</p> + +<p>He was born into the world, nurtured +in infancy, trained in childhood and +matured into manhood, for one express +purpose—to be hers alone. Her ownership +ranged from absolute despotism +to humble slavery, and he was happy +through it all.</p> + +<p>One day she said: “Angelo, is it +your purpose to follow your profession +always?â€</p> + +<p>“Necessarily, it is my livelihood,†he +replied.</p> + +<p>“But do you not think that after we +stand at the altar, we never should be +separated?â€</p> + +<p>“We will be together always,†said +he, holding her face between his palms, +and looking with tender expression into +her inquiring eyes.</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page61" title="61"> </a>“But I notice that women cluster +around you after your concerts—and +shake your hand longer than they +should—and talk to you longer than +they should—and go away looking self-satisfied!†+she replied brokenly, much +as a little girl tells of the theft of her +doll.</p> + +<p>“Nonsense,†he said, smiling, “that +is all part of my profession; it is not +me they care for, it is the music I +give that makes them happy. If, in my +playing, I achieve results out of the common, +they admire me!†and he kissed +away the unwelcome tears.</p> + +<p>“I know,†she continued, “but +lately, since we have loved each other, +I can not bear to see a woman near +you. In my dreams again and again +an indefinable shadow mockingly comes +and cries to me, ‘he is not to be yours, +he is to be mine.’†+<a class="pagenum" id="page62" title="62"> </a> +Diotti flushed and drew her to him. +“Darling,†his voice carrying conviction, +“I am yours, you are mine, all in +all, in life here and beyond!†And as +she sat dreaming after he had gone, she +murmured petulantly, “I wish there +were no other women in the world.â€</p> + +<p>Her father was expected from Europe +on the succeeding day’s steamer. Mr. +Wallace was a busy man. The various +gigantic enterprises he served as president +or director occupied most of his +time. He had been absent in Europe +for several months, and Mildred was +anxiously awaiting his return to tell him +of her love.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Wallace came to his residence +the next morning, his daughter +met him with a fond display of filial affection; +they walked into the drawing-room, +hand in hand; he saw a picture +of the violinist on the piano. “Who’s +<a class="pagenum" id="page63" title="63"> </a>the handsome young fellow?†he asked, +looking at the portrait with the satisfaction +a man feels when he sees a splendid +type of his own sex.</p> + +<p>“That is Angelo Diotti, the famous +violinist,†she said, but she could not +add another word.</p> + +<p>As they strolled through the rooms +he noticed no less than three likenesses +of the Tuscan. And as they passed her +room he saw still another on the <em>chiffonnier</em>.</p> + +<p>“Seems to me the house is running +wild with photographs of that fiddler,†+he said.</p> + +<p>For the first time in her life she was +self-conscious: “I will wait for a more +opportune time to tell him,†she +thought.</p> + +<p>In the scheme of Diotti’s appearance +in New York there were to be two +more concerts. One was to be given +<a class="pagenum" id="page64" title="64"> </a>that evening. Mildred coaxed her +father to accompany her to hear the +violinist. Mr. Wallace was not fond +of music; “it had been knocked out of +him on the farm up in Vermont, when +he was a boy,†he would apologetically +explain, and besides he had the old puritanical +abhorrence of stage people—putting +them all in one class—as puppets +who danced or played or talked for an +idle and unthinking public.</p> + +<p>So it was with the thought of a +wasted evening that he accompanied +Mildred to the concert.</p> + +<p>The entertainment was a repetition +of the others Diotti had given, and at +its end, Mildred said to her father: +“Come, I want to congratulate Signor +Diotti in person.â€</p> + +<p>“That is entirely unnecessary,†he +replied.</p> + +<p>“It is my desire,†and the girl led +<a class="pagenum" id="page65" title="65"> </a>the unwilling parent back of the scenes +and into Diotti’s dressing-room.</p> + +<p>Mildred introduced Diotti to her +father, who after a few commonplaces +lapsed into silence. The daughter’s enthusiastic +interest in Diotti’s performance +and her tender solicitude for his +weariness after the efforts of the evening, +quickly attracted the attention of +Mr. Wallace and irritated him exceedingly.</p> + +<p>When father and daughter were +seated in their carriage and were hurriedly +driving home, he said: “Mildred, +I prefer that you have as little to say to +that man as possible.â€</p> + +<p>“What do you object to in him?†+she asked.</p> + +<p>“Everything. Of what use is a man +who dawdles away his time on a fiddle; +of what benefit is he to mankind? Do +fiddlers build cities? Do they delve into +<a class="pagenum" id="page66" title="66"> </a>the earth for precious metals? Do they +sow the seed and harvest the grain? +No, no; they are drones—the barnacles +of society.â€</p> + +<p>“Father, how can you advance such +an argument? Music’s votaries offer no +apologies for their art. The husbandman +places the grain within the breast +of Mother Earth for man’s material welfare; +God places music in the heart of +man for his spiritual development. In +man’s spring time, his bridal day, music +means joy. In man’s winter time, +his burial day, music means comfort. +The heaven-born muse has added to the +happiness of the world. Diotti is a +great genius. His art brings rest and +tranquillity to the wearied and despairing,†+and she did not speak again until +they had reached the house.</p> + +<p>The lights were turned low when +father and daughter went into the +<a class="pagenum" id="page67" title="67"> </a>drawing-room. Mr. Wallace felt that +he had failed to convince Mildred of the +utter worthlessness of fiddlers, big or +little, and as one dissatisfied with the +outcome of a contest, re-entered the +lists.</p> + +<p>“He has visited you?â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, father.â€</p> + +<p>“Often?â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, father,†spoken calmly.</p> + +<p>“Often?†louder and more imperiously +repeated the father, as if there +must be some mistake.</p> + +<p>“Quite often,†and she sat down, +knowing the catechizing would be likely +to continue for some minutes.</p> + +<p>“How many times, do you think?â€</p> + +<p>She rose, walked into the hallway; +took the card basket from the table, +returned and seated herself beside her +father, emptying its contents into her +lap. She picked up a card. It read +<a class="pagenum" id="page68" title="68"> </a>“Angelo Diotti,†and she called the +name aloud. She took up another and +again her lips voiced the beloved name. +“Angelo Diotti,†she continued, repeating +at intervals for a minute. Then +looking at her father: “He has called +thirty-two times: there are thirty-one +cards here and on one occasion he forgot +his card-case.â€</p> + +<p>“Thirty-two!†said the father, rising +angrily and pacing the floor.</p> + +<p>“Yes, thirty-two. I remember all +of them distinctly.â€</p> + +<p>Her father came over to her, half +coaxingly, half seriously. “Mildred, I +wish his visits to cease; people will +imagine there is a romantic attachment +between you.â€</p> + +<p>“There is, father,†out it came, “he +loves me and I love him.â€</p> + +<div id="illo6" class="illo"> + <a href="images/illo6.jpg"><img src="images/illo6-th.jpg" width="356" height="530" alt="A young woman and old man face each other, standing in front of a fireplace. Her hands are on his jacket lapels." /></a> + <p class="caption">Father I will obey you implicitly</p> +</div> + +<p>“What!†shouted Mr. Wallace, and +<a class="pagenum" id="page69" title="69"> </a>then severely, “this must cease immediately.â€</p> + +<p>She rose quietly and led her father +over to the mantel. Placing a hand on +each of his shoulders she said:</p> + +<p>“Father, I will obey you implicitly +if you can name a reasonable objection +to the man I love. But you can not. +I love him with my whole soul. I love +him for the nobility of his character, +and because there is none other in the +world for him, nor for me.â€</p> + +</div> +<div id="chapter_9" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page70" title="70"> </a> +<h2>IX</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">Old Sanders</span> as boy and man +had been in the employ of the +banking and brokerage firm of Wallace +Brothers for two generations. The firm +gradually had advanced his position until +now he was confidential adviser and +general manager, besides having an interest +in the profits of the business.</p> + +<p>He enjoyed the friendship of Mr. +Wallace, and had been a constant visitor +at his house from the first days of +that gentleman’s married life. He himself +was alone in the world, a confirmed +bachelor. He had seen Mildred creep +from babyhood into childhood, and bud +<a class="pagenum" id="page71" title="71"> </a>from girlhood to womanhood. To Mildred +he was one of that numerous army +of brevet relations known as “gran-pop,†+“pop,†or “uncle.†To her he +was Uncle Sanders.</p> + +<p>If the old man had one touch of human +nature in him it was a solicitude +for Mildred’s future—an authority arrogated +to himself—to see that she married +the right man; but even that was +directed to her material gain in this +world’s goods, and not to any sentimental +consideration for her happiness. +He flattered himself that by timely suggestion +he had “stumped†at least half +a dozen would-be candidates for Mildred’s +hand. He pooh-poohed love as a +necessity for marital felicity, and would +enforce his argument by quoting from +the bard:</p> + +<p>“All lovers swear more performance +than they are able, and yet reserve an +<a class="pagenum" id="page72" title="72"> </a>ability that they never perform; vowing +more than the perfection of ten, and +discharging less than the tenth part of +one.â€</p> + +<p>“You can get at a man’s income,†+he would say, “but not at his heart. +Love without money won’t travel as far +as money without love,†and many +married people whose bills were overdue +wondered if the old fellow was +not right.</p> + +<p>He was cold-blooded and generally +disliked by the men under him. The +more evil-minded gossips in the bank +said he was in league with “Old +Nick.†That, of course, was absurd, +for it does not necessarily follow, because +a man suggests a means looking +to an end, disreputable though it be, +that he has Mephistopheles for a silent +partner. The conservative element +among the employees would not openly +<a class="pagenum" id="page73" title="73"> </a>venture so far, but rather thought if his +satanic majesty and old Sanders ran a +race, the former would come in a bad +second, if he were not distanced altogether.</p> + +<p>The old man always reached the office +at nine. Mr. Wallace usually arrived a +half hour later, seldom earlier, which was +so well understood by Sanders that he +was greatly surprised when he walked +into the president’s office, the morning +after that gentleman had attended +Diotti’s concert, to find the head of the +firm already there and apparently waiting +for him.</p> + +<p>“Sanders,†said the banker, “I +want your advice on a matter of great +importance and concern to me.â€</p> + +<p>Sanders came across the room and +stood beside the desk.</p> + +<p>“Briefly as possible, I am much exercised +about my daughter.†+<a class="pagenum" id="page74" title="74"> </a> +The old man moved up a chair and +buried himself in it. Pressing his elbows +tightly against his sides, he drew +his neck in, and with the tips of his +right hand fingers consorted and coquetted +with their like on the opposite +hand; then he simply asked, “Who is +the man?â€</p> + +<p>“He is the violinist who has created +such a sensation here, Angelo Diotti.â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, I’ve seen the name in print,†+returned the old man.</p> + +<p>“He has bewitched Mildred. I never +have seen her show the least interest in +a man before. She never has appeared +to me as an impressionable girl or one +that could easily be won.â€</p> + +<p>“That is very true,†ejaculated Sanders; +“she always seemed tractable and +open to reason in all questions of love +and courting. I can recall several instances +where I have set her right by +<a class="pagenum" id="page75" title="75"> </a>my estimation of men, and invariably +she has accepted my views.â€</p> + +<p>“And mine until now,†said the +father, and then he recounted his experience +of the night before. “I had +hoped she would not fall in love, but +be a prop and comfort to me now that +I am alone. I am dismayed at the +prospect before me.â€</p> + +<p>Then the old man mused: “In the +chrysalis state of girlhood, a parent arranges +all the details of his daughter’s +future; when and whom she shall marry. +‘I shall not allow her to fall in love +until she is twenty-three,’ says the fond +parent. ‘I shall not allow her to marry +until she is twenty-six,’ says the fond +parent. ‘The man she marries will be +the one I approve of, and then she will +live happy ever after,’ concludes the +fond parent.â€</p> + +<p>Deluded parent! false prophet! The +<a class="pagenum" id="page76" title="76"> </a>anarchist, Love, steps in and disdains +all laws, rules and regulations. When +finally the father confronts the defying +daughter, she calmly says, “Well, +what are you going to do about it?†+And then tears, forgiveness, complete +capitulation, and, sometimes, she and +her husband live happily ever afterwards.</p> + +<p>“We must find some means to end +this attachment. A union between a +musician and my daughter would be +most mortifying to me. Some plan +must be devised to separate them, but +she must not know of it, for she is impatient +of restraint and will not brook +opposition.â€</p> + +<p>“Are you confident she really loves +this violinist?â€</p> + +<p>“She confessed as much to me,†+said the perturbed banker.</p> + +<p>Old Sanders tapped with both hands +<a class="pagenum" id="page77" title="77"> </a>on his shining cranium and asked, +“Are you confident he loves her?â€</p> + +<p>“No. Even if he does not, he no doubt +makes the pretense, and she believes +him. A man who fiddles for money +is not likely to ignore an opportunity to +angle for the same commodity,†and +the banker, with a look of scorn on his +face, threw himself back into the chair.</p> + +<p>“Does she know that you do not approve +of this man?â€</p> + +<p>“I told her that I desired the musician’s +visits to cease.â€</p> + +<p>“And her answer?â€</p> + +<p>“She said she would obey me if I +could name one reasonable objection to +the man, and then, with an air of absolute +confidence in the impossibility of +such a contingency, added, ‘But you +can not.’â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, but you must,†said Sanders. +“Mildred is strangely constituted. If +<a class="pagenum" id="page78" title="78"> </a>she loves this man, her love can be +more deadly to the choice of her heart +than her hate to one she abhors. The +impatience of restraint you speak of and +her very inability to brook opposition +can be turned to good account now.†+And old Sanders again tapped in the +rhythm of a dirge on his parchment-bound +cranium.</p> + +<p>“Your plan?†eagerly asked the +father, whose confidence in his secretary +was absolute.</p> + +<p>“I would like to study them together. +Your position will be stronger with +Mildred if you show no open opposition +to the man or his aspirations; bring us +together at your house some evening, +and if I can not enter a wedge of discontent, +then they are not as others.â€</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + + +<p>Mildred was delighted when her +father told her on his return in the +<a class="pagenum" id="page79" title="79"> </a>evening that he was anxious to meet +Signor Diotti, and suggested a dinner +party within a few days. He said he +would invite Mr. Sanders, as that gentleman, +no doubt, would consider it a +great privilege to meet the famous musician. +Mildred immediately sent an +invitation to Diotti, adding a request +that he bring his violin and play for +Uncle Sanders, as the latter had found +it impossible to attend his concerts during +the season, yet was fond of music, +especially violin music.</p> +</div> +<div id="chapter_10" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page80" title="80"> </a> + +<h2>X</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">The</span> little dinner party passed off +pleasantly, and as old Sanders +lighted his cigar he confided to Diotti, +with a braggart’s assurance, that when +he was a youngster he was the best fiddler +for twenty miles around. “I tell +you there is nothing like a fiddler to +catch a petticoat,†he said, with a sharp +nudge of his elbow into Diotti’s ribs. +“When I played the Devil’s Dream +there wasn’t a girl in the country could +keep from dancing, and ‘Rosalie, the +Prairie Flower,’ brought them on their +knees to me every time;†then after a +pause, “I don’t believe people fiddle as +<a class="pagenum" id="page81" title="81"> </a>well nowadays as they did in the good +old times,†and he actually sighed in +remembrance.</p> + +<p>Mildred smiled and whispered to Diotti. +He took his violin from the case +and began playing. It seemed to her +as if from above showers of silvery merriment +were falling to earth. The old +man watched intently, and as the player +changed from joy to pity, from love +back to happiness, Sanders never withdrew +his gaze. His bead-like eyes followed +the artist; he saw each individual +finger rise and fall, and the bow bound +over the finger-board, always avoiding, +never coming in contact with the middle +string. Suddenly the old man beat a +tattoo on his cranium and closed his +eyes, apparently deep in thought.</p> + +<p>As Diotti ceased playing, Sanders applauded +vociferously, and moving toward +the violinist, said: “Magnificent! +<a class="pagenum" id="page82" title="82"> </a>I never have heard better playing! +What is the make of your violin?â€</p> + +<p>Diotti, startled at this question, hurriedly +put the instrument in its case; +“Oh, it is a famous make,†he drawled.</p> + +<p>“Will you let me examine it?†said +the elder, placing his hand on the case.</p> + +<p>“I never allow any one to touch my +violin,†replied Diotti, closing the cover +quickly.</p> + +<p>“Why; is there a magic charm about +it, that you fear other hands may discover?†+queried the old man.</p> + +<p>“I prefer that no one handle it,†+said the <em>virtuoso</em> commandingly.</p> + +<p>“Very well,†sighed the old man resignedly, +“there are violins and violins, +and no doubt yours comes within that +category,†this half sneeringly.</p> + +<p>“Uncle,†interposed Mildred tactfully, +“you must not be so persistent. Signor +Diotti prizes his violin highly and will +<a class="pagenum" id="page83" title="83"> </a>not allow any one to play upon it but +himself,†and the look of relief on +Diotti’s face amply repaid her.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wallace came in at that moment, +and with perfunctory interest in his +guest, invited him to examine the splendid +collection of revolutionary relics in +his study.</p> + +<p>“I value them highly,†said the +banker, “both for patriotic and ancestral +reasons. The Wallaces fought and +died for their country, and helped to +make this land what it is.â€</p> + +<p>The father and the violinist went to +the study, leaving the daughter and old +Sanders in the drawing-room. The +old man, seating himself in a large armchair, +said: “Mildred, my dear, I do +not wonder at the enormous success of +this Diotti.â€</p> + +<p>“He is a wonderful artist,†replied +Mildred; “critics and public alike place +<a class="pagenum" id="page84" title="84"> </a>him among the greatest of his profession.â€</p> + +<p>“He is a good-looking young fellow, +too,†said the old man.</p> + +<p>“I think he is the handsomest man I +ever have seen,†replied the girl.</p> + +<p>“Where does he come from?†continued +Sanders.</p> + +<p>“St. Casciano, a small town in Tuscany.â€</p> + +<p>“Has he a family?â€</p> + +<p>“Only a sister, whom he loves +dearly,†good-naturedly answered the +girl.</p> + +<p>“And no one else?†continued the +seemingly garrulous old man.</p> + +<p>“None that I have heard him speak +of. No, certainly not,†rather impetuously +replied Mildred.</p> + +<p>“How old is he?†continued the old +man. +<a class="pagenum" id="page85" title="85"> </a> +“Twenty-eight next month; why do +you wish to know?†she quizzically +asked.</p> + +<p>“Simply idle curiosity,†old Sanders +carelessly replied. “I wonder if he is +in love with any one in Tuscany?â€</p> + +<p>“Of course not; how could he be?†+quickly rejoined the girl.</p> + +<p>“And why not?†added old Sanders.</p> + +<p>“Why? Because, because—he is in +love with some one in America.â€</p> + +<p>“Ah, with you, I see,†said the old +man, as if it were the greatest discovery +of his life; “are you sure he has not +some beautiful sweetheart in Tuscany +as well as here?â€</p> + +<p>“What a foolish question,†she replied. +“Men like Angelo Diotti do +not fall in love as soldiers fall in line. +Love to a man of his nobility is too +serious to be treated so lightly.†+<a class="pagenum" id="page86" title="86"> </a> +“Very true, and that’s what has excited +my curiosity!†whereupon the old +man smoked away in silence.</p> + +<p>“Excited your curiosity!†said +Mildred. “What do you mean?â€</p> + +<p>“It may be something; it may be +nothing; but my speculative instinct has +been aroused by a strange peculiarity in +his playing.â€</p> + +<p>“His playing is wonderful!†replied +Mildred proudly.</p> + +<p>“Aye, more than wonderful! I +watched him intently,†said the old +man; “I noted with what marvelous +facility he went from one string to the +other. But however rapid, however difficult +the composition, he steadily avoided +one string; in fact, that string remained +untouched during the entire hour he +played for us.â€</p> + +<p>“Perhaps the composition did not +<a class="pagenum" id="page87" title="87"> </a>call for its use,†suggested Mildred, unconscious +of any other meaning in the +old man’s observation, save praise for +her lover.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps so, but the oddity impressed +me; it was a new string to me. +I have never seen one like it on a violin +before.â€</p> + +<p>“That can scarcely be, for I do not +remember of Signor Diotti telling me +there was anything unusual about his +violin.â€</p> + +<p>“I am sure it has a fifth string.â€</p> + +<p>“And I am equally sure the string +can be of no importance or Angelo +would have told me of it,†Mildred +quickly rejoined.</p> + +<p>“I recall a strange story of Paganini,†+continued the old man, apparently +not noticing her interruption; “he +became infatuated with a lady of high +<a class="pagenum" id="page88" title="88"> </a>rank, who was insensible of the admiration +he had for her beauty.</p> + +<p>“He composed a love scene for two +strings, the ‘E’ and ‘G,’ the first was +to personate the lady, the second himself. +It commenced with a species of +dialogue, intending to represent her +indifference and his passion; now sportive, +now sad; laughter on her part and +tears from him, ending in an apotheosis +of loving reconciliation. It affected the +lady to that degree that ever after she +loved the violinist.â€</p> + +<p>“And no doubt they were happy?†+Mildred suggested smilingly.</p> + +<p>“Yes,†said the old man, with assumed +sentiment, “even when his profession +called him far away, for she had +made him promise her he never would +play upon the two strings whose music +had won her heart, so those strings were +mute, except for her.†+<a class="pagenum" id="page89" title="89"> </a> +The old man puffed away in silence +for a moment, then with logical directness +continued: “Perhaps the string +that’s mute upon Diotti’s violin is mute +for some such reason.â€</p> + +<p>“Nonsense,†said the girl, half impatiently.</p> + +<p>“The string is black and glossy as +the tresses that fall in tangled skeins on +the shoulders of the dreamy beauties of +Tuscany. It may be an idle fancy, but +if that string is not a woven strand from +some woman’s crowning glory, then I +have no discernment.â€</p> + +<p>“You are jesting, uncle,†she replied, +but her heart was heavy already.</p> + +<p>“Ask him to play on that string; I’ll +wager he’ll refuse,†said the old man, +contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“He will not refuse when I ask him, +but I will not to-night,†answered the +unhappy girl, with forced determination. +<a class="pagenum" id="page90" title="90"> </a>Then, taking the old man’s hands, +she said: “Good-night, I am going to +my room; please make my excuses to +Signor Diotti and father,†and wearily +she ascended the stairs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wallace and the violinist soon +after joined old Sanders, fresh cigars +were lighted and regrets most earnestly +expressed by the violinist for Mildred’s +“sick headache.â€</p> + +<p>“No need to worry; she will be all +right in the morning,†said Sanders, +and he and the violinist buttoned their +coats tightly about them, for the night +was bitter cold, and together they left +the house.</p> + +<p>In her bed-chamber Mildred stood +looking at the portrait of her lover. She +studied his face long and intently, then +crossing the room she mechanically took +a volume from the shelf, and as she +opened it her eyes fell on these lines: +<a class="pagenum" id="page91" title="91"> </a>“How art thou fallen from Heaven, O +Lucifer, son of the Morning!â€</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p>Old Sanders builded better than he +knew.</p> + +</div> +<div id="chapter_11" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page92" title="92"> </a> + +<h2>XI</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">When</span> Diotti and old Sanders left +the house they walked rapidly +down Fifth Avenue. It was after eleven, +and the streets were bare of pedestrians, +but blinking-eyed cabs came up the avenue, +looking at a distance like a trail +of Megatheriums, gliding through the +darkness. The piercing wind made the +men hasten their steps, the old man by +a semi-rotary motion keeping up with +the longer strides and measured tread of +the younger.</p> + +<p>When they reached Fourteenth Street, +the elder said, “I live but a block from +here,†pointing eastward; “what do +<a class="pagenum" id="page93" title="93"> </a>you say to a hot toddy? It will warm +the cockles of your heart; come over to +my house and I’ll mix you the best +drink in New York.â€</p> + +<p>The younger thought the suggestion +a good one and they turned toward the +house of old Sanders.</p> + +<p>It was a neat, red brick, two-story +house, well in from the street, off the +line of the more pretentious buildings on +either side. As the old man opened the +iron gate, the police officer on the beat +passed; he peered into the faces of the +men, and recognizing Sanders, said, +“tough night, sir.â€</p> + +<p>“Very,†replied the addressed.</p> + +<p>“All good old gentlemen should be in +bed at this hour,†said the officer, lifting +one foot after the other in an effort +to keep warm, and in so doing showing +little terpsichorean grace.</p> + +<p>“It’s only the shank of the evening, +<a class="pagenum" id="page94" title="94"> </a>officer,†rejoined the old man, as he +fumbled with the latch key and finally +opened the door. The two men entered +and the officer passed on.</p> + +<p>Every man has a fad. One will tell +you he sees nothing in billiards or pool +or golf or tennis, but will grow enthusiastic +over the scientific possibilities of +mumble-peg; you agree with him, only +you substitute “skittles†for “mumble-peg.â€</p> + +<p>Old Sanders’ fad was mixing toddies +and punches.</p> + +<p>“The nectar of the gods pales into +nothingness when compared with a toddy +such as I make,†said he. “Ambrosia +may have been all right for the +degenerates of the old Grecian and Roman +days, but an American gentleman +demands a toddy—a hot toddy.†And +then he proceeded with circumspection +<a class="pagenum" id="page95" title="95"> </a>and dignity to demonstrate the process +of decocting that mysterious beverage.</p> + +<p>The two men took off their overcoats +and went into the sitting-room. A pile +of logs burned brightly in the fire-place. +The old man threw another on the burning +heap, filled the kettle with water and +hung it over the fire. Next he went to +the sideboard and brought forth the various +ingredients for the toddy.</p> + +<p>“How do you like America?†said +the elder, with commonplace indifference, +as he crunched a lump of sugar in +the bottom of the glass, dissolving the +particles with a few drops of water.</p> + +<p>“Very much, indeed,†said the Tuscan, +with the air of a man who had answered +the question before.</p> + +<p>“Great country for girls!†said Sanders, +pouring a liberal quantity of Old +Tom gin in the glass and placing it +where it gradually would get warm. +<a class="pagenum" id="page96" title="96"> </a> +“And for men!†responded Diotti, +enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>“Men don’t amount to much here, +women run everything,†retorted the elder, +while he repeated the process of +preparing the sugar and gin in the second +glass. The kettle began to sing.</p> + +<p>“That’s music for you,†chuckled the +old man, raising the lid to see if the water +had boiled sufficiently. “Do you +know I think a dinner horn and a singing +kettle beat a symphony all hollow +for real down-right melody,†and he +lifted the kettle from the fire-place.</p> + +<p>Diotti smiled.</p> + +<p>With mathematical accuracy the old +man filled the two tumblers with boiling +water.</p> + +<p>“Try that,†handing a glass of the +toddy to Diotti; “you will find it all +right,†and the old man drew an armchair +<a class="pagenum" id="page97" title="97"> </a>toward the fire-place, smacking his +lips in anticipation.</p> + +<p>The violinist placed his chair closer to +the fire and sipped the drink.</p> + +<p>“Your country is noted for its beautiful +women?â€</p> + +<p>“We have exquisite types of femininity +in Tuscany,†said the young man, +with patriotic ardor.</p> + +<p>“Any as fine looking as—as—as—well, +say the young lady we dined with +to-night?â€</p> + +<p>“Miss Wallace?†queried the Tuscan.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss Wallace,†this rather impatiently.</p> + +<p>“She is very beautiful,†said Diotti, +with solemn admiration.</p> + +<p>“Have you ever seen any one prettier?†+questioned the old man, after a +second prolonged sip. +<a class="pagenum" id="page98" title="98"> </a> +“I have no desire to see any one +more beautiful,†said the violinist, feeling +that the other was trying to draw +him out, and determined not to yield.</p> + +<p>“You will pardon the inquisitiveness +of an old man, but are not you musicians +a most impressionable lot?â€</p> + +<p>“We are human,†answered the +violinist.</p> + +<p>“I imagined you were like sailors and +had a sweetheart in every port.â€</p> + +<p>“That would be a delightful prospect +to one having polygamous aspirations, +but for myself, one sweetheart is enough,†+laughingly said the musician.</p> + +<p>“Only one! Well, here’s to her! +With this nectar fit for the gods and goddesses +of Olympus, let us drink to her,†+said old Sanders, with convivial dignity, +his glass raised on high. “Here’s wishing +health and happiness to the dreamy-eyed +<a class="pagenum" id="page99" title="99"> </a>Tuscan beauty, whom you love and +who loves you.â€</p> + +<p>“Stop!†said Diotti; “we will drink +to the first part of that toast,†and holding +his glass against that of his bibulous +host, continued: “To the dreamy-eyed +women of my country, exacting of +their lovers; obedient to their parents +and loyal to their husbands,†and his +voice rose in sonorous rhythm with the +words.</p> + +<p>“Now for the rest of the toast, to the +one you love and who loves you,†came +from Sanders.</p> + +<p>“To the one I love and who loves +me, God bless her!†fervently cried the +guest.</p> + +<p>“Is she a Tuscan?†asked old Sanders +slyly.</p> + +<p>“She is an angel!†impetuously answered +the violinist. +<a class="pagenum" id="page100" title="100"> </a> +“Then she is an American!†said the +old man gallantly.</p> + +<p>“She is an American,†repeated +Diotti, forgetting himself for the instant.</p> + +<p>“Let me see if I can guess her +name,†said old Sanders. “It’s—it’s +Mildred Wallace!†and his manner suggested +a child solving a riddle.</p> + +<p>The violinist, about to speak, checked +himself and remained silent.</p> + +<p>“I sincerely pity Mildred if ever she +falls in love,†abstractedly continued +the host while filling another glass.</p> + +<p>“Pray why?†was anxiously asked.</p> + +<p>The old man shifted his position and +assumed a confidential tone and attitude: +“Signor Diotti, jealousy is a more +universal passion than love itself. Environment +may develop our character, +influence our tastes and even soften our +features, but heredity determines the intensity +of the two leading passions, love +<a class="pagenum" id="page101" title="101"> </a>and jealousy. Mildred’s mother was a +beautiful woman, but consumed with an +overpowering jealousy of her husband. +It was because she loved him. The +body-guard of jealousy—envy, malice +and hatred—were not in her composition. +When Mildred was a child of +twelve I have seen her mother suffer +the keenest anguish because Mr. Wallace +fondled the child. She thought the +child had robbed her of her husband’s +love.â€</p> + +<p>“Such a woman as Miss Wallace +would command the entire love and admiration +of her husband at all times,†+said the artist.</p> + +<p>“If she should marry a man she +simply likes, her chances for happiness +would be normal.â€</p> + +<p>“In what manner?†asked the lover.</p> + +<p>“Because she would be little concerned +about him or his actions.†+<a class="pagenum" id="page102" title="102"> </a> +“Then you believe,†said the musician, +“that the man who loves her and +whom she loves should give her up because +her chances of happiness would be +greater away from him than with him?â€</p> + +<p>“That would be an unselfish love,†+said the elder.</p> + +<p>“Suppose they have declared their +passion?†asked Diotti.</p> + +<p>“A parting before doubt and jealousy +had entered her mind would let the image +of her sacrificing lover live within +her soul as a tender and lasting memory; +he always would be her ideal,†and the +accent old Sanders placed on <em>always</em> left +no doubt of his belief.</p> + +<p>“Why should doubt and jealousy enter +her life?†said the violinist, falling +into the personal character of the discussion +despite himself.</p> + +<p>“My dear sir, from what I observed +to-night, she loves you. You are a dangerous +<a class="pagenum" id="page103" title="103"> </a>man for a jealous woman to love. +You are not a cloistered monk, you are +a man before the public; you win the +admiration of many; some women do not +hesitate to show you their preference. To +a woman like Mildred that would be torture; +she could not and would not separate +the professional artist from the lover +or husband.â€</p> + +<p>And Diotti, remembering Mildred’s +words, could not refute the old man’s +statements.</p> + +<p>“If you had known her mother as I +did,†continued the old man, realizing +his argument was making an impression +on the violinist, “you would see the agony +in store for the daughter if she married +a man such as you, a public servant, +a public favorite.â€</p> + +<p>“I would live my life not to excite her +suspicions or jealousy,†said the artist, +with boyish enthusiasm and simplicity.</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page104" title="104"> </a>“Foolish fellow,†retorted Sanders, +skeptically; “women imagine, they don’t +reason. A scented note unopened on +the dressing table can cause more unhappiness +to your wife than the loss of +his country to a king. My advice to you +is: do not marry; but if you must, choose +one who is more interested in your gastronomic +felicity than in your marital constancy.â€</p> + +<p>Diotti was silent. He was pondering +the words of his host. Instead of seeing +in Mildred a possibly jealous woman, +causing mental misery, she appeared a +vision of single-hearted devotion. He +felt: “To be loved by such a one is +bliss beyond the dreams of this world.â€</p> +</div> +<div id="chapter_12" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page105" title="105"> </a> +<h2>XII</h2> + +<p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">A tipsy man</span> is never interesting, +and Sanders in that condition +was no exception. The old man arose +with some effort, walked toward the +window and, shading his eyes, looked +out. The snow was drifting, swept +hither and thither by the cutting wind +that came through the streets in great +gusts. Turning to the violinist, he said, +“It’s an awful night; better remain here +until morning. You’ll not find a cab; in +fact, I will not let you go while this +storm continues,†and the old man +raised the window, thrusting his head +out for an instant. As he did so the icy +<a class="pagenum" id="page106" title="106"> </a>blast that came in settled any doubt in +the young man’s mind and he concluded +to stop over night.</p> + +<p>It was nearly two o’clock; Sanders +showed him to his room and then returned +down stairs to see that everything +was snug and secure. After changing +his heavy shoes for a pair of old slippers +and wrapping a dressing gown around +him, the old man stretched his legs toward +the fire and sipped his toddy.</p> + +<p>“He isn’t a bad sort for a violinist,†+mused the old man; “if he were worth +a million, I believe I’d advise Wallace to +let him marry her. A fiddler! A million! +Sounds funny,†and he laughed +shrilly.</p> + +<p>He turned his head and his eyes +caught sight of Diotti’s violin case resting +on the center table. He staggered +from the chair and went toward it; opening +the lid softly, he lifted the silken +<a class="pagenum" id="page107" title="107"> </a>coverlet placed over the instrument and +examined the strings intently. “I am +right,†he said; “it is wrapped with +hair, and no doubt from a woman’s +head. Eureka!†and the old man, happy +in the discovery that his surmises were +correct, returned to his chair and his +toddy.</p> + +<p>He sat looking into the fire. The +violin had brought back memories of the +past and its dead. He mumbled, as if +to the fire, “she loved me; she loved +my violin. I was a devil; my violin +was a devil,†and the shadows on the +wall swayed like accusing spirits. He +buried his face in his hands and cried +piteously, “I was so young; too young +to know.†He spoke as if he would +conciliate the ghastly shades that moved +restlessly up and down, when suddenly—“Sanders, +don’t be a fool!â€</p> + +<p>He ambled toward the table again. +<a class="pagenum" id="page108" title="108"> </a>“I wonder who made the violin? He +would not tell me when I asked him to-night; +thank you for your pains, but I +will find out myself,†and he took the +violin from the case. Holding it with +the light slanting over it, he peered inside, +but found no inscription. “No +maker’s name—strange,†he said. He +tiptoed to the foot of the stairs and listened +intently; “he must be asleep; he +won’t hear me,†and noiselessly he +closed the door. “I guess if I play a +tune on it he won’t know.â€</p> + +<p>He took the bow from its place in the +case and tightened it. He listened +again. “He is fast asleep,†he whispered. +“I’ll play the song I always +played for her—until,†and the old man +repeated the words of the refrain:</p> + +<div class="poem"> + <p>“Fair as a lily, joyous and free,</p> + <p>Light of the prairie home was she;</p> + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page109" title="109"> </a>Every one who knew her felt the gentle power</p> + <p>Of Rosalie, the Prairie Flower.â€</p> +</div> + +<p>He sat again in the arm-chair and +placed the violin under his chin. Tremulously +he drew the bow across the middle +string, his bloodless fingers moving +slowly up and down.</p> + +<p>The theme he played was the melody +to the verse he had just repeated, but the +expression was remorse.</p> + +<hr class="thoughtbreak" /> + +<p>Diotti sat upright in bed. “I am positive +I heard a violin!†he said, holding +one hand toward his head in an attitude +of listening. He was wide awake. The +drifting snow beat against the window +panes and the wind without shrieked like +a thousand demons of the night. He +could sleep no more. He arose and +hastily dressed. The room was bitterly cold; +he was shivering. He thought of +<a class="pagenum" id="page110" title="110"> </a>the crackling logs in the fire-place below. +He groped his way along the darkened +staircase. As he opened the door leading +into the sitting-room the fitful gleam +of the dying embers cast a ghastly light +over the face of a corpse.</p> + +<p>Diotti stood a moment, his eyes transfixed +with horror. The violin and bow +still in the hands of the dead man told +him plainer than words what had happened. +He went toward the chair, took +the instrument from old Sanders’ hands +and laid it on the table. Then he knelt +beside the body, and placing his ear +close over the heart, listened for some +sign of life, but the old man was beyond +human aid.</p> + +<p>He wheeled the chair to the side of +the room and moved the body to the +sofa. Gently he covered it with a robe. +The awfulness of the situation forced +itself upon him, and bitterly he blamed +<a class="pagenum" id="page111" title="111"> </a>himself. The terrible power of the instrument +dawned upon him in all its +force. Often he had played on the strings +telling of pity, hope, love and joy, but +now, for the first time, he realized what +that fifth string meant.</p> + +<p>“I must give it back to its owner.â€</p> + +<p>“If you do you can never regain it,†+whispered a voice within.</p> + +<p>“I do not need it,†said the violinist, +almost audibly.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not,†said the voice, “but +if her love should wane how would you +rekindle it? Without the violin you +would be helpless.â€</p> + +<p>“Is it not possible that, in this old +man’s death, all its fatal power has been +expended?â€</p> + +<p>He went to the table and took the instrument +from its place. “You won her +for me; you have brought happiness +and sunshine into my life. No! No! +<a class="pagenum" id="page112" title="112"> </a>I can not, will not give you up,†then +placing the violin and bow in its case he +locked it.</p> + +<p>The day was breaking. In an hour +the baker’s boy came. Diotti went to +the door, gave him a note addressed to +Mr. Wallace and asked him to deliver it +at once. The boy consented and drove +rapidly away.</p> + +<p>Within an hour Mr. Wallace arrived; +Diotti told the story of the night. After +the undertaker had taken charge of the +body he found on the dead man’s neck, +just to the left of the chin, a dullish, +black bruise which might have been +caused by the pressing of some blunt instrument, +or by a man’s thumb. Considering +it of much importance, he notified +the coroner, who ordered an inquest.</p> + +<p>At six o’clock that evening a jury was +impaneled, and two hours later its verdict +was reported.</p> +</div> +<div id="chapter_13" class="chapter"><a class="pagenum" id="page113" title="113"> </a> + <h2>XIII</h2> + + <p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">On</span> leaving the house of the dead man + Diotti walked wearily to his hotel. + In flaring type at every street corner he + saw the announcement for Thursday + evening, March thirty-first, of Angelo + Diotti’s last appearance: “To-night I + play for the last time,†he murmured in + a voice filled with deepest regret.</p> + + <p>The feeling of exultation so common + to artists who finally reach the goal of + their ambition was wanting in Diotti this + morning. He could not rid himself of + the memory of Sanders’ tragic death. + The figure of the old man clutching the + <a class="pagenum" id="page114" title="114"> </a>violin and staring with glassy eyes into + the dying fire would not away.</p> + + <p>When he reached the hotel he tried to + rest, but his excited brain banished + every thought of slumber. Restlessly + he moved about the room, and finally + dressing, he left the hotel for his daily + call on Mildred. It was after five o’clock + when he arrived. She received him coldly + and without any mark of affection.</p> + + <p>She had heard of Mr. Sanders’ death; + her father had sent word. “It shocked + me greatly,†she said; “but perhaps the + old man is happier in a world far from + strife and care. When we realize all the + misery there is in this world we often + wonder why we should care to live.†+ Her tone was despondent, her face was + drawn and blanched, and her eyes gave + evidence of weeping.</p> + + <p>Diotti divined that something beyond + <a class="pagenum" id="page115" title="115"> </a>sympathy for old Sanders’ sudden death + racked her soul. He went toward her + and lovingly taking her hands, bent low + and pressed his lips to them; they were + cold as marble.</p> + + <p>“Darling,†he said; “something has + made you unhappy. What is it?â€</p> + + <p>“Tell me, Angelo, and truly; is your + violin like other violins?â€</p> + + <p>This unexpected question came so suddenly + he could not control his agitation.</p> + + <p>“Why do you ask?†he said.</p> + + <p>“You must answer me directly!â€</p> + + <p>“No, Mildred; my violin is different + from any other I have ever seen,†this + hesitatingly and with great effort at composure.</p> + + <p>“In what way is it different?†she + almost demanded.</p> + + <p>“It is peculiarly constructed; it has + an extra string. But why this sudden + <a class="pagenum" id="page116" title="116"> </a>interest in the violin? Let us talk of + you, of me, of both, of our future,†said + he with enforced cheerfulness.</p> + + <p>“No, we will talk of the violin. Of + what use is the extra string?â€</p> + + <p>“None whatever,†was the quick reply.</p> + + <p>“Then why not cut it off?â€</p> + + <p>“No, no, Mildred; you do not understand,†+ he cried; “I can not do + that.â€</p> + + <p>“You can not do it when I ask it?†+ she exclaimed.</p> + + <p>“Oh Mildred, do not ask me; I can + not, can not do it,†and the face of the + affrighted musician told plainer than + words of the turmoil raging in his soul.</p> + + <p>“You made me believe that I was the + only one you loved,†passionately she + cried; “the only one; that your happiness + was incomplete without me. You led + me into the region of light only to make + <a class="pagenum" id="page117" title="117"> </a>the darkness greater when I descended + to earth again. I ask you to do a simple + thing and you refuse; you refuse because + another has commanded you.â€</p> + + <p>“Mildred, Mildred; if you love me do + not speak thus!â€</p> + + <p>And she, with imagination greater than + reasoning power, at once saw a Tuscan + beauty and Diotti mutually pledging their + love with their lives.</p> + + <p>“Go,†she said, pointing to the door, + “go to the one who owns you, body and + soul; then say that a foolish woman threw + her heart at your feet and that you + scorned it!†She sank to the sofa.</p> + + <p>He went toward the door, and in a + voice that sounded like the echo of despair, + protested: “Mildred, I love you; + love you a thousand times more than I + do my life. If I should destroy the + string, as you ask, love and hope would + leave me forevermore. Death would + <a class="pagenum" id="page118" title="118"> </a>not be robbed of its terror!†and with + bowed head he went forth into the twilight.</p> + + <p>She ran to the window and watched + his retreating figure as he vanished. + “Uncle Sanders was right; he loves another + woman, and that string binds them + together. He belongs to her!†Long + and silently she stood by the window, + gazing at the shadowing curtain of the + coming night. At last her face softened. + “Perhaps he does not love her now, but + fears her vengeance. No, no; he is not + a coward! I should have approached + him differently; he is proud, and maybe + he resented my imperative manner,†+ and a thousand reasons why he should + or should not have removed that string + flashed through her mind.</p> + + <p>“I will go early to the concert to-night + and see him before he plays. + Uncle Sanders said he did not touch that + <a class="pagenum" id="page119" title="119"> </a>string when he played. Of course he + will play on it for me, even if he will not + cut it off, and then if he says he loves + me, and only me, I will believe him. I + want to believe him; I want to believe + him,†all this in a semi-hysterical way + addressed to the violinist’s portrait on + the piano.</p> + + <p>When she entered her carriage an hour + later, telling the coachman to drive direct + to the stage-door of the Academy, she + appeared more fascinating than ever before.</p> + + <p>She was sitting in his dressing-room + waiting for him when he arrived. He + had aged years in a day. His step was + uncertain, his eyes were sunken and his + hand trembled. His face brightened as + she arose, and Mildred met him in the + center of the room. He lifted her hand + and pressed a kiss upon it.</p> + + <p>“Angelo, dear,†she said in repentant + <a class="pagenum" id="page120" title="120"> </a>tone; “I am sorry I pained you this afternoon; + but I am jealous, so jealous of + you.â€</p> + + <p>“Jealous?†he said smilingly; “there + is no need of jealousy in our lives; we + love each other truly and only.â€</p> + + <p>“That is just what I think, we will + never doubt each other again, will we?â€</p> + + <p>“Never!†he said solemnly.</p> + + <p>He had placed his violin case on the + table in the room. She went to it and + tapped the top playfully; then suddenly + said: “I am going to look at your violin, + Angelo,†and before he could interfere, + she had taken the silken coverlet off and + was examining the instrument closely. + “Sure enough, it has five strings; the + middle one stands higher than the rest + and is of glossy blackness. Uncle Sanders + was right; it is a woman’s hair!</p> + + <p>“Why is that string made of hair?†+ she asked, controlling her emotion. + <a class="pagenum" id="page121" title="121"> </a> + “Only a fancy,†he said, feigning indifference.</p> + + <p>“Though you would not remove it at + my wish this afternoon, Angelo; I know + you will not refuse to play on it for me + now.â€</p> + + <p>He raised his hands in supplication. + “Mildred! Mildred! Stop! do not ask + it!â€</p> + + <p>“You refuse after I have come repentant, + and confessing my doubts and + fears? Uncle Sanders said you would + not play upon it for me; he told me it + was wrapped with a woman’s hair, the + hair of the woman you love.â€</p> + + <p>“I swear to you, Mildred, that I love + but you!â€</p> + + <p>“Love me? Bah! And another woman’s + tresses sacred to you? Another + woman’s pledge sacred to you? I asked + you to remove the string; you refused. + I ask you now to play upon it; you refuse,†+ <a class="pagenum" id="page122" title="122"> </a>and she paced the room like a + caged tigress.</p> + + <p>“I will watch to-night when you + play,†she flashed. “If you do not use + that string we part forever.â€</p> + + <p>He stood before her and attempted to + take her hand; she repulsed him savagely.</p> + + <p>Sadly then he asked: “And if I do + play upon it?â€</p> + + <p>“I am yours forever—yours through + life—through eternity,†she cried passionately.</p> + + <p>The call-boy announced Diotti’s turn; + the violinist led Mildred to a seat at the + entrance of the stage. His appearance + was the signal for prolonged and enthusiastic + greeting from the enormous audience + present. He clearly was the idol + of the metropolis.</p> + + <div id="illo7" class="illo"> + <a href="images/illo7.jpg"><img src="images/illo7-th.jpg" width="364" height="524" alt="A woman in evening dress lays her hand on the shoulder of a man holding a violin under his arm." /></a> + <p class="caption">If you do not play upon it we separate forever</p> + </div> + + <p>The lights were lowered, a single calcium + playing with its soft and silvery + <a class="pagenum" id="page123" title="123"> </a>rays upon his face and shoulders. The + expectant audience scarcely breathed as + he began his theme. It was pity—pity + molded into a concord of beautiful + sounds, and when he began the second + movement it was but a continuation of + the first; his fingers sought but one + string, that of pity. Again he played, + and once more pity stole from the violin.</p> + + <p>When he left the stage Mildred rushed + to him. “You did not touch that string; + you refuse my wish?†and the sounds + of mighty applause without drowned his + pleading voice.</p> + + <p>“I told you if you refused me I was + lost to you forever! Do you understand?â€</p> + + <p>Diotti returned slowly to the center of + the stage and remained motionless until + the audience subsided. Facing Mildred, + whose color was heightened by the intensity + <a class="pagenum" id="page124" title="124"> </a>of her emotion, he began softly + to play. His fingers sought the string + of Death. The audience listened with + breathless interest. The composition + was weirdly and strangely fascinating.</p> + + <p>The player told with wondrous power + of despair,—of hope, of faith; sunshine + crept into the hearts of all as he pictured + the promise of an eternal day; higher + and higher, softer and softer grew the + theme until it echoed as if it were afar in + the realms of light and floating o’er the + waves of a golden sea.</p> + + <p>Suddenly the audience was startled by + the snapping of a string; the violin and + bow dropped from the nerveless hands + of the player. He fell helpless to the + stage.</p> + + <p>Mildred rushed to him, crying, “Angelo, + Angelo, what is it? What has + happened?†Bending over him she + gently raised his head and showered unrestrained + <a class="pagenum" id="page125" title="125"> </a>kisses upon his lips, oblivious + of all save her lover.</p> + + <p>“Speak! Speak!†she implored.</p> + + <p>A faint smile illumined his face; he + gazed with ineffable tenderness into her + weeping eyes, then slowly closed his own + as if in slumber.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="pg"> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIFTH STRING***<br /> </p> +<p>******* This file should be named 29481-h.txt or 29481-h.zip *******<br /> </p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/4/8/29481">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/4/8/29481</a><br /> </p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.<br /> </p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution.<br /> </p> +</div> + + +<pre> +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a> + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a> + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo1-th.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo1-th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d7b5c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo1-th.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo1.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bfcbd33 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo1.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo2-th.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo2-th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..79e5a8d --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo2-th.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo2.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b13da16 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo2.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo3-th.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo3-th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4aed0a --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo3-th.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo3.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a80bac --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo3.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo4-th.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo4-th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2f55e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo4-th.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo4.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo4.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c1154a --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo4.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo5-th.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo5-th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe37c34 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo5-th.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo5.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo5.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e9cd56 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo5.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo6-th.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo6-th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..08ff611 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo6-th.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo6.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo6.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e0d02dd --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo6.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo7-th.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo7-th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2dae2b9 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo7-th.jpg diff --git a/29481-h/images/illo7.jpg b/29481-h/images/illo7.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d41b37 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481-h/images/illo7.jpg diff --git a/29481.txt b/29481.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b3ba14 --- /dev/null +++ b/29481.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2506 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Fifth String, by John Philip Sousa, +Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Fifth String + + +Author: John Philip Sousa + + + +Release Date: July 22, 2009 [eBook #29481] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIFTH STRING*** + + +E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 29481-h.htm or 29481-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29481/29481-h/29481-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29481/29481-h.zip) + + + + + +[Illustration] + +THE FIFTH STRING + +by + +JOHN PHILIP SOUSA + +The Illustrations by Howard Chandler Christy + + + + + + + +Indianapolis +The Bowen-Merrill Company +Publishers + +Copyright 1902 +The Bowen-Merrill Company + +Press of +Braunworth & Co. +Bookbinders and Printers +Brooklyn, N. Y. + + + + +_The Fifth String_ + + + + +I + + +The coming of Diotti to America had awakened more than usual interest +in the man and his work. His marvelous success as violinist in the +leading capitals of Europe, together with many brilliant contributions +to the literature of his instrument, had long been favorably commented +on by the critics of the old world. Many stories of his struggles and +his triumphs had found their way across the ocean and had been read +and re-read with interest. + +Therefore, when Mr. Henry Perkins, the well-known impresario, +announced with an air of conscious pride and pardonable enthusiasm +that he had secured Diotti for a "limited" number of concerts, +Perkins' friends assured that wide-awake gentleman that his foresight +amounted to positive genius, and they predicted an unparalleled +success for his star. On account of his wonderful ability as player, +Diotti was a favorite at half the courts of Europe, and the astute +Perkins enlarged upon this fact without regard for the feelings of the +courts or the violinist. + +On the night preceding Diotti's debut in New York, he was the center +of attraction at a reception given by Mrs. Llewellyn, a social leader, +and a devoted patron of the arts. The violinist made a deep impression +on those fortunate enough to be near him during the evening. He won +the respect of the men by his observations on matters of international +interest, and the admiration of the gentler sex by his chivalric +estimate of woman's influence in the world's progress, on which +subject he talked with rarest good humor and delicately implied +gallantry. + +During one of those sudden and unexplainable lulls that always occur +in general drawing-room conversations, Diotti turned to Mrs. Llewellyn +and whispered: "Who is the charming young woman just entering?" + +"The beauty in white?" + +"Yes, the beauty in white," softly echoing Mrs. Llewellyn's query. He +leaned forward and with eager eyes gazed in admiration at the +new-comer. He seemed hypnotized by the vision, which moved slowly from +between the blue-tinted portieres and stood for the instant, a perfect +embodiment of radiant womanhood, silhouetted against the silken +drapery. + +"That is Miss Wallace, Miss Mildred Wallace, only child of one of New +York's prominent bankers." + +"She is beautiful--a queen by divine right," cried he, and then with a +mingling of impetuosity and importunity, entreated his hostess to +present him. + +And thus they met. + +Mrs. Llewellyn's entertainments were celebrated, and justly so. At her +receptions one always heard the best singers and players of the +season, and Epicurus' soul could rest in peace, for her chef had an +international reputation. Oh, remember, you music-fed ascetic, many, +aye, very many, regard the transition from Tschaikowsky to terrapin, +from Beethoven to burgundy with hearts aflame with anticipatory +joy--and Mrs. Llewellyn's dining-room was crowded. + +Miss Wallace and Diotti had wandered into the conservatory. + +"A desire for happiness is our common heritage," he was saying in his +richly melodious voice. + +"But to define what constitutes happiness is very difficult," she +replied. + +"Not necessarily," he went on; "if the motive is clearly within our +grasp, the attainment is possible." + +"For example?" she asked. + +"The miser is happy when he hoards his gold; the philanthropist when +he distributes his. The attainment is identical, but the motives are +antipodal." + +"Then one possessing sufficient motives could be happy without end?" +she suggested doubtingly. + +"That is my theory. The Niobe of old had happiness within her power." + +"The gods thought not," said she; "in their very pity they changed her +into stone, and with streaming eyes she ever tells the story of her +sorrow." + +"But are her children weeping?" he asked. "I think not. Happiness can +bloom from the seeds of deepest woe," and in a tone almost +reverential, he continued: "I remember a picture in one of our Italian +galleries that always impressed me as the ideal image of maternal +happiness. It is a painting of the Christ-mother standing by the body +of the Crucified. Beauty was still hers, and the dress of grayish hue, +nun-like in its simplicity, seemed more than royal robe. Her face, +illumined as with a light from heaven, seemed inspired with this +thought: 'They have killed Him--they have killed my son! Oh, God, I +thank Thee that His suffering is at an end!' And as I gazed at the +holy face, another light seemed to change it by degrees from saddened +motherhood to triumphant woman! Then came: 'He is not dead, He but +sleeps; He will rise again, for He is the best beloved of the +Father!'" + +"Still, fate can rob us of our patrimony," she replied, after a pause. + +"Not while life is here and eternity beyond," he said, reassuringly. + +"What if a soul lies dormant and will not arouse?" she asked. + +"There are souls that have no motive low enough for earth, but only +high enough for heaven," he said, with evident intention, looking +almost directly at her. + +"Then one must come who speaks in nature's tongue," she continued. + +"And the soul will then awake," he added earnestly. + +"But is there such a one?" she asked. + +"Perhaps," he almost whispered, his thought father to the wish. + +"I am afraid not," she sighed. "I studied drawing, worked diligently +and, I hope, intelligently, and yet I was quickly convinced that a +counterfeit presentment of nature was puny and insignificant. I +painted Niagara. My friends praised my effort. I saw Niagara again--I +destroyed the picture." + +"But you must be prepared to accept the limitations of man and his +work," said the philosophical violinist. + +"Annihilation of one's own identity in the moment is possible in +nature's domain--never in man's. The resistless, never-ending rush of +the waters, madly churning, pitilessly dashing against the rocks +below; the mighty roar of the loosened giant; that was Niagara. My +picture seemed but a smear of paint." + +[Illustration] + +"Still, man has won the admiration of man by his achievements," he +said. + +"Alas, for me," she sighed, "I have not felt it." + +"Surely you have been stirred by the wonders man has accomplished in +music's realm?" Diotti ventured. + +"I never have been." She spoke sadly and reflectively. + +"But does not the passion-laden theme of a master, or the marvelous +feeling of a player awaken your emotions?" persisted he. + +She stood leaning lightly against a pillar by the fountain. "I never +hear a pianist, however great and famous, but I see the little +cream-colored hammers within the piano bobbing up and down like +acrobatic brownies. I never hear the plaudits of the crowd for the +artist and watch him return to bow his thanks, but I mentally demand +that these little acrobats, each resting on an individual pedestal, +and weary from his efforts, shall appear to receive a share of the +applause. + +"When I listen to a great singer," continued this world-defying +skeptic, "trilling like a thrush, scampering over the scales, I see a +clumsy lot of ah, ah, ahs, awkwardly, uncertainly ambling up the +gamut, saying, 'were it not for us she could not sing thus--give us +our meed of praise.'" + +Slowly he replied: "Masters have written in wondrous language and +masters have played with wondrous power." + +"And I so long to hear," she said, almost plaintively. "I marvel at +the invention of the composer and the skill of the player, but there I +cease." + +He looked at her intently. She was standing before him, not a block of +chiseled ice, but a beautiful, breathing woman. He offered her his arm +and together they made their way to the drawing-room. + +"Perhaps, some day, one will come who can sing a song of perfect love +in perfect tones, and your soul will be attuned to his melody." + +"Perhaps--and good-night," she softly said, leaving his arm and +joining her friends, who accompanied her to the carriage. + +[Illustration: ACADEMY _of_ MUSIC + DECEMBER 12TH--8:00 P. M. + + FIRST APPEARANCE IN AMERICA OF + THE RENOWNED TUSCAN + VIOLINIST + + ANGELO + DIOTTI + + ASSISTED BY + + ARTISTS OF INTERNATIONAL + REPUTATION + + DIRECTION OF MR. HENRY PERKINS + + SECOND CONCERT OF SIGNOR DIOTTI + DECEMBER 14TH] + + + + +II + + +The intangible something that places the stamp of popular approval on +one musical enterprise, while another equally artistic and as cleverly +managed languishes in a condition of unendorsed greatness, remains one +of the unsolved mysteries. + +When a worker in the vineyard of music or the drama offers his +choicest tokay to the public, that fickle coquette may turn to the +more ordinary and less succulent concord. And the worker and the +public itself know not why. + +It is true, Diotti's fame had preceded him, but fame has preceded +others and has not always been proof against financial disaster. All +this preliminary,--and it is but necessary to recall that on the +evening of December the twelfth Diotti made his initial bow in New +York, to an audience that completely filled every available space in +the Academy of Music--a representative audience, distinguished alike +for beauty, wealth and discernment. + +When the violinist appeared for his solo, he quietly acknowledged the +cordial reception of the audience, and immediately proceeded with the +business of the evening. At a slight nod from him the conductor rapped +attention, then launched the orchestra into the introduction of the +concerto, Diotti's favorite, selected for the first number. As the +violinist turned to the conductor he faced slightly to the left and in +a direct line with the second proscenium box. His poise was admirable. +He was handsome, with the olive-tinted warmth of his southern +home--fairly tall, straight-limbed and lithe--a picture of poetic +grace. His was the face of a man who trusted without reserve, the +manner of one who believed implicitly, feeling that good was universal +and evil accidental. + +As the music grew louder and the orchestra approached the peroration +of the preface of the coming solo, the violinist raised his head +slowly. Suddenly his eyes met the gaze of the solitary occupant of the +second proscenium box. His face flushed. He looked inquiringly, almost +appealingly, at her. She sat immovable and serene, a lace-framed +vision in white. + +It was she who, since he had met her, only the night before, held his +very soul in thraldom. + +He lifted his bow, tenderly placing it on the strings. Faintly came +the first measures of the theme. The melody, noble, limpid and +beautiful, floated in dreamy sway over the vast auditorium, and seemed +to cast a mystic glamour over the player. As the final note of the +first movement was dying away, the audience, awakening from its +delicious trance, broke forth into spontaneous bravos. + +Mildred Wallace, scrutinizing the program, merely drew her wrap closer +about her shoulders and sat more erect. At the end of the concerto the +applause was generous enough to satisfy the most exacting _virtuoso_. +Diotti unquestionably had scored the greatest triumph of his career. +But the lady in the box had remained silent and unaffected throughout. + +The poor fellow had seen only her during the time he played, and the +mighty cheers that came from floor and galleries struck upon his ear +like the echoes of mocking demons. Leaving the stage he hurried to his +dressing-room and sank into a chair. He had persuaded himself she +should not be insensible to his genius, but the dying ashes of his +hopes, his dreams, were smouldering, and in his despair came the +thought: "I am not great enough for her. I am but a man; her consort +should be a god. Her soul, untouched by human passion or human skill, +demands the power of god-like genius to arouse it." + +Music lovers crowded into his dressing-room, enthusiastic in their +praises. Cards conveying delicate compliments written in delicate +chirography poured in upon him, but in vain he looked for some sign, +some word from her. + +Quickly he left the theater and sought his hotel. + +A menacing cloud obscured the wintry moon. A clock sounded the +midnight hour. + +He threw himself upon the bed and almost sobbed his thoughts, and +their burden was: + +"I am not great enough for her. I am but a man. I am but a man!" + + + + +III + + +Perkins called in the morning. Perkins was happy--Perkins was +positively joyous, and Perkins was self-satisfied. The violinist had +made a great hit. But Perkins, confiding in the white-coated dispenser +who concocted his _matin Martini_, very dry, an hour before, said he +regarded the success due as much to the management as to the artist. +And Perkins believed it. Perkins usually took all the credit for a +success, and with charming consistency placed all responsibility for +failure on the shoulders of the hapless artist. + +When Perkins entered Diotti's room he found the violinist heavy-eyed +and dejected. "My dear Signor," he began, showing a large envelope +bulging with newspaper clippings, "I have brought the notices. They +are quite the limit, I assure you. Nothing like them ever heard +before--all tuned in the same key, as you musical fellows would say," +and Perkins cocked his eye. + +Perkins enjoyed a glorious reputation with himself for bright sayings, +which he always accompanied with a cock of the eye. The musician not +showing any visible appreciation of the manager's metaphor, Perkins +immediately proceeded to uncock his eye. + +"Passed the box-office coming up," continued this voluble enlightener; +"nothing left but a few seats in the top gallery. We'll stand them on +their heads to-morrow night--see if we don't." Then he handed the +bursting envelope of notices to Diotti, who listlessly put them on the +table at his side. + +"Too tired to read, eh?" said Perkins, and then with the advance-agent +instinct strong within him he selected a clipping, and touching the +violinist on the shoulder: "Let me read this one to you. It is by Herr +Totenkellar. He is a hard nut to crack, but he did himself proud this +time. Great critic when he wants to be." + +Perkins cleared his throat and began: "Diotti combines tremendous +feeling with equally tremendous technique. The entire audience was +under the witchery of his art." Diotti slowly negatived that statement +with bowed head. "His tone is full, round and clear; his +interpretation lends a story-telling charm to the music; for, while we +drank deep at the fountain of exquisite melody, we saw sparkling +within the waters the lights of Paradise. New York never has heard his +equal. He stands alone, pre-eminent, an artistic giant." + +"Now, that's what I call great," said the impresario, dramatically; +"when you hit Totenkellar that way you are good for all kinds of +money." + +Perkins took his hat and cane and moved toward the door. The violinist +arose and extended his hand wearily. "Good-day" came simultaneously; +then "I'm off. We'll turn 'em away to-morrow; see if we don't!" +Whereupon Perkins left Diotti alone in his misery. + + + + +IV + + +It was the evening of the fourteenth. In front of the Academy a +strong-lunged and insistent tribe of gentry, known as ticket +speculators, were reaping a rich harvest. They represented a beacon +light of hope to many tardy patrons of the evening's entertainment, +especially to the man who had forgotten his wife's injunction "to be +sure to buy the tickets on the way down town, dear, and get them in +the family circle, not too far back." This man's intentions were +sincere, but his newspaper was unusually interesting that morning. He +was deeply engrossed in an article on the causes leading to +matrimonial infelicities when his 'bus passed the Academy box-office. + +He was six blocks farther down town when he finished the article, only +to find that it was a carefully worded advertisement for a new patent +medicine, and of course he had not time to return. "Oh, well," said +he, "I'll get them when I go up town to-night." + +But he did not. So with fear in his heart and a red-faced woman on his +arm he approached the box-office. "Not a seat left," sounded to his +hen-pecked ears like the concluding words of the black-robed judge: +"and may the Lord have mercy upon your soul." But a reprieve came, for +one of the aforesaid beacon lights of hope rushed forward, saying: "I +have two good seats, not far back, and only ten apiece." And the +gentleman with fear in his heart and the red-faced woman on his arm +passed in. + +They saw the largest crowd in the history of the Academy. Every seat +was occupied, every foot of standing room taken. Chairs were placed in +the side aisles. The programs announced that it was the second +appearance in America of Angelo Diotti, the renowned Tuscan violinist. + +The orchestra had perfunctorily ground out the overture to "Der +Freischuetz," the baritone had stentorianly emitted "Dio Possente," +the soprano was working her way through the closing measures of the +mad scene from "Lucia," and Diotti was number four on the program. The +conductor stood beside his platform, ready to ascend as Diotti +appeared. + +The audience, ever ready to act when those on the stage cease that +occupation, gave a splendid imitation of the historic last scene at +the Tower of Babel. Having accomplished this to its evident +satisfaction, the audience proceeded, like the closing phrase of the +"Goetterdaemmerung" Dead March, to become exceedingly quiet--then +expectant. + +This expectancy lasted fully three minutes. Then there were some +impatient handclappings. A few persons whispered: "Why is he late?" +"Why doesn't he come?" "I wonder where Diotti is," and then came +unmistakable signs of impatience. At its height Perkins appeared, +hesitatingly. Nervous and jerky he walked to the center of the stage, +and raised his hand begging silence. The audience was stilled. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he falteringly said, "Signor Diotti left his +hotel at seven o'clock and was driven to the Academy. The call-boy +rapped at his dressing-room, and not receiving a reply, opened the +door to find the room empty. We have despatched searchers in every +direction and have sent out a police alarm. We fear some accident has +befallen the Signor. We ask your indulgence for the keen +disappointment, and beg to say that your money will be refunded at the +box-office." + +Diotti had disappeared as completely as though the earth had swallowed +him. + + + + +V + + +My dearest sister: You doubtless were exceedingly mystified and +troubled over the report that was flashed to Europe regarding my +sudden disappearance on the eve of my second concert in New York. + +Fearing, sweet Francesca, that you might mourn me as dead, I sent the +cablegram you received some weeks since, telling you to be of good +heart and await my letter. To make my action thoroughly understood I +must give you a record of what happened to me from the first day I +arrived in America. I found a great interest manifested in my +premiere, and socially everything was done to make me happy. + +Mrs. James Llewellyn, whom, you no doubt remember, we met in Florence +the winter of 18--, immediately after I reached New York arranged a +reception for me, which was elegant in the extreme. But from that +night dates my misery. + +You ask her name?--Mildred Wallace. Tell me what she is like, I hear +you say. Of graceful height, willowy and exquisitely molded, not over +twenty-four, with the face of a Madonna; wondrous eyes of darkest +blue, hair indescribable in its maze of tawny color--in a word, the +perfection of womanhood. In half an hour I was her abject slave, and +proud in my serfdom. When I returned to the hotel that evening I could +not sleep. Her image ever was before me, elusive and shadowy. And yet +we seemed to grow farther and farther apart--she nearer heaven, I +nearer earth. + +The next evening I gave my first and what I fear may prove my last +concert in America. The vision of my dreams was there, radiant in +rarest beauty. Singularly enough, she was in the direct line of my +vision while I played. I saw only her, played but for her, and cast my +soul at her feet. She sat indifferent and silent. "Cold?" you say. No! +No! Francesca, not cold; superior to my poor efforts. I realized my +limitations. I questioned my genius. When I returned to bow my +acknowledgments for the most generous applause I have ever received, +there was no sign on her part that I had interested her, either +through my talent or by appeal to her curiosity. I hoped against hope +that some word might come from her, but I was doomed to +disappointment. The critics were fulsome in their praise and the +public was lavish with its plaudits, but I was abjectly miserable. +Another sleepless night and I was determined to see her. She received +me most graciously, although I fear she thought my visit one of +vanity--wounded vanity--and me petulant because of her lack of +appreciation. + +Oh, sister mine, I knew better. I knew my heart craved one word, +however matter-of-fact, that would rekindle the hope that was dying +within me. + +Hesitatingly, and like a clumsy yokel, I blurted: "I have been +wondering whether you cared for the performance I gave?" + +"It certainly ought to make little difference to you," she replied; +"the public was enthusiastic enough in its endorsement." + +"But I want your opinion," I pleaded. + +"My opinion would not at all affect the almost unanimous verdict," she +replied calmly. + +"And," I urged desperately, "you were not affected in the least?" + +Very coldly she answered, "Not in the least;" and then fearlessly, +like a princess in the Palace of Truth: "If ever a man comes who can +awaken my heart, frankly and honestly I will confess it." + +"Perhaps such a one lives," I said, "but has yet to reach the height +to win you--your--" + +"Speak it," she said, "to win my love!" + +"Yes," I cried, startled at her candor, "to win your love." Hope +slowly rekindled within my breast, and then with half-closed eyes, and +wooingly, she said: + +"No drooping Clytie could be more constant than I to him who strikes +the chord that is responsive in my soul." + +Her emotion must have surprised her, but immediately she regained her +placidity and reverted no more to the subject. + +I went out into the gathering gloom. Her words haunted me. A strange +feeling came over me. A voice within me cried: "Do not play to-night. +Study! study! Perhaps in the full fruition of your genius your music, +like the warm western wind to the harp, may bring life to her soul." + +I fled, and I am here. I am delving deeper and deeper into the +mysteries of my art, and I pray God each hour that He may place within +my grasp the wondrous music His blessed angels sing, for the soul of +her I love is attuned to the harmonies of heaven. + + Your affectionate brother, + ANGELO. + ISLAND OF BAHAMA, January 2. + + + + +VI + + +When Diotti left New York so precipitately he took passage on a coast +line steamer sailing for the Bahama Islands. Once there, he leased a +small _cay_, one of a group off the main land, and lived alone and +unattended, save for the weekly visits of an old fisherman and his +son, who brought supplies of provisions from the town miles away. His +dwelling-place, surrounded with palmetto trees, was little more than a +rough shelter. Diotti arose at daylight, and after a simple repast, +betook himself to practise. Hour after hour he would let his muse run +riot with his fingers. Lovingly he wooed the strings with plaintive +song, then conquering and triumphant would be his theme. But neither +satisfied him. The vague dream of a melody more beautiful than ever +man had heard dwelt hauntingly on the borders of his imagination, but +was no nearer realization than when he began. As the day's work +closed, he wearily placed the violin within its case, murmuring, "Not +yet, not yet; I have not found it." + +Days passed, weeks crept slowly on; still he worked, but always with +the same result. One day, feverish and excited, he played on in +monotone almost listless. His tired, over-wrought brain denied a +further thought. His arm and fingers refused response to his will. +With an uncontrollable outburst of grief and anger he dashed the +violin to the floor, where it lay a hopeless wreck. Extending his arms +he cried, in the agony of despair: "It is of no use! If the God of +heaven will not aid me, I ask the prince of darkness to come." + +A tall, rather spare, but well-made and handsome man appeared at the +door of the hut. His manner was that of one evidently conversant with +the usages of good society. + +"I beg pardon," said the musician, surprised and visibly nettled at +the intrusion, and then with forced politeness he asked: "To whom am I +indebted for this unexpected visit?" + +"Allow me," said the stranger taking a card from his case and handing +it to the musician, who read: "Satan," and, in the lower left-hand +corner, "Prince of Darkness." + +"I am the Prince," said the stranger, bowing low. + +There was no hint of the pavement-made ruler in the information he +gave, but rather of the desire of one gentleman to set another right +at the beginning. The musician assumed a position of open-mouthed +wonder, gazing steadily at the visitor. + +"Satan?" he whispered hoarsely. + +"You need help and advice," said the visitor, his voice sounding like +that of a disciple of the healing art, and implying that he had +thoroughly diagnosed the case. + +"No, no," cried the shuddering violinist; "go away. I do not need +you." + +"I regret I can not accept that statement as gospel truth," said +Satan, sarcastically, "for if ever a man needed help, you are that +man." + +"But not from you," replied Diotti. + +"That statement is discredited also by your outburst of a few moments +ago when you called upon me." + +"I do not need you," reiterated the musician. "I will have none of +you!" and he waved his arm toward the door, as if he desired the +interview to end. + +"I came at your behest, actuated entirely by kindness of heart," said +Satan. + +Diotti laughed derisively, and Satan, showing just the slightest +feeling at Diotti's behavior, said reprovingly: "If you will listen a +moment, and not be so rude to an utter stranger, we may reach some +conclusion to your benefit." + +"Get thee behind--" + +"I know exactly what you were about to say. Have no fears on that +score. I have no demands to make and no impossible compacts to insist +upon." + +"I have heard of you before," knowingly spoke the violinist, nodding +his head sadly. + +"No doubt you have," smilingly. "My reputation, which has suffered at +the hands of irresponsible people, is not of the best, and places me +at times in awkward positions. But I am beginning to live it down." +The stranger looked contrition itself. "To prove my sincerity I desire +to help you win her love," emphasizing her. + +"How can you help me?" + +"Very easily. You have been wasting time, energy and health in a wild +desire to play better. The trouble lies not with you." + +"Not with me?" interrupted the violinist, now thoroughly interested. + +"The trouble lies not with you," repeated the visitor, "but with the +miserable violin you have been using and have just destroyed," and he +pointed to the shattered instrument. + +Tears welled from the poor violinist's eyes as he gazed on the +fragments of his beloved violin, the pieces lying scattered about as +the result of his unfortunate anger. + +"It was a Stradivarius," said Diotti, sadly. + +"Had it been a Stradivarius, an Amati or a Guarnerius, or a host of +others rolled into one, you would not have found in it the melody to +win the heart of the woman you love. Get a better and more suitable +instrument." + +"Where is one?" earnestly interrogated Diotti, vaguely realizing that +Satan knew. + +"In my possession," Satan replied. + +"She would hate me if she knew I had recourse to the powers of +darkness to gain her love," bitterly interposed Diotti. + +Satan, wincing at this uncomplimentary allusion to himself, replied +rather warmly: "My dear sir, were it not for the fact that I feel in +particularly good spirits this morning, I should resent your ill-timed +remarks and leave you to end your miserable existence with rope or +pistol," and Satan pantomimed both suicidal contingencies. + +"Do you want the violin or not?" + +"I might look at it," said Diotti, resolving mentally that he could go +so far without harm. + +"Very well," said Satan. He gave a long whistle. + +An old man, bearing a violin case, came within the room. He bowed to +the wondering Diotti, and proceeded to open the case. Taking the +instrument out the old man fondled it with loving and tender +solicitude, pointing out its many beauties--the exquisite blending of +the curves, the evenness of the grain, the peculiar coloring, the +lovely contour of the neck, the graceful outlines of the body, the +scroll, rivaling the creations of the ancient sculptors, the solidity +of the bridge and its elegantly carved heart, and, waxing exceedingly +enthusiastic, holding up the instrument and looking at it as one does +at a cluster of gems, he added, "the adjustment of the strings." + +"That will do," interrupted Satan, taking the violin from the little +man, who bowed low and ceremoniously took his departure. Then the +devil, pointing to the instrument, asked: "Isn't it a beauty?" + +The musician, eying it keenly, replied: "Yes, it is, but not the kind +of violin I play on." + +[Illustration] + +"Oh, I see," carelessly observed the other, "you refer to that extra +string." + +"Yes," answered the puzzled violinist, examining it closely. + +"Allow me to explain the peculiar characteristics of this magnificent +instrument," said his satanic majesty. "This string," pointing to the +G, "is the string of pity; this one," referring to the third, "is the +string of hope; this," plunking the A, "is attuned to love, while this +one, the E string, gives forth sounds of joy. + +"You will observe," went on the visitor, noting the intense interest +displayed by the violinist, "that the position of the strings is the +same as on any other violin, and therefore will require no additional +study on your part." + +"But that extra string?" interrupted Diotti, designating the middle +one on the violin, a vague foreboding rising within him. + +"That," said Mephistopheles, solemnly, and with no pretense of +sophistry, "is the string of death, and he who plays upon it dies at +once." + +"The--string--of--death!" repeated the violinist almost inaudibly. + +"Yes, the string of death," Satan repeated, "and he who plays upon it +dies at once. But," he added cheerfully, "that need not worry you. I +noticed a marvelous facility in your arm work. Your staccato and +spiccato are wonderful. Every form of bowing appears child's play to +you. It will be easy for you to avoid touching the string." + +"Why avoid it? Can it not be cut off?" + +"Ah, that's the rub. If you examine the violin closely you will find +that the string of death is made up of the extra lengths of the other +four strings. To cut it off would destroy the others, and then pity, +hope, love and joy would cease to exist in the soul of the violin." + +"How like life itself," Diotti reflected, "pity, hope, love, joy end +in death, and through death they are born again." + +"That's the idea, precisely," said Satan, evidently relieved by +Diotti's logic and quick perception. + +The violinist examined the instrument with the practised eye of an +expert, and turning to Satan said: "The four strings are beautifully +white and transparent, but this one is black and odd looking. + +"What is it wrapped with?" eagerly inquired Diotti, examining the +death string with microscopic care. + +"The fifth string was added after an unfortunate episode in the Garden +of Eden, in which I was somewhat concerned," said Satan, soberly. "It +is wrapped with strands of hair from the first mother of man." +Impressively then he offered the violin to Diotti. + +"I dare not take it," said the perplexed musician; "it's from--" + +"Yes, it is directly from there, but I brought it from heaven when +I--I left," said the fallen angel, with remorse in his voice. "It was +my constant companion there. But no one in my domain--not I, +myself--can play upon it now, for it will respond neither to our +longing for pity, hope, love, joy, nor even death," and sadly and +retrospectively Satan gazed into vacancy; then, after a long pause: +"Try the instrument!" + +Diotti placed the violin in position and drew the bow across the +string of joy, improvising on it. Almost instantly the birds of the +forest darted hither and thither, caroling forth in gladsome strains. +The devil alone was sad, and with emotion said: + +"It is many, many years since I have heard that string." + +Next the artist changed to the string of pity, and thoughts of the +world's sorrows came over him like a pall. + +"Wonderful, most wonderful!" said the mystified violinist; "with this +instrument I can conquer the world!" + +"Aye, more to you than the world," said the tempter, "a woman's love." + +A woman's love--to the despairing suitor there was one and only one in +this wide, wide world, and her words, burning their way into his +heart, had made this temptation possible: "No drooping Clytie could be +more constant than I to him who strikes the chord that is responsive +in my soul." + +Holding the violin aloft, he cried exultingly: "Henceforth thou art +mine, though death and oblivion lurk ever near thee!" + + + + +VII + + +Perkins, seated in his office, threw the morning, paper aside. "It's +no use," he said, turning to the office boy, "I don't believe they +ever will find him, dead or alive. Whoever put up the job on Diotti +was a past grand master at that sort of thing. The silent assassin +that lurks in the shadow of the midnight moon is an explosion of +dynamite compared to the party that made way with Diotti. You ask, why +should they kill him? My boy, you don't know the world. They were +jealous of his enormous hit, of our dazzling success. Jealousy did +it." + +The "they" of Perkins comprised rival managers, rival artists, +newspaper critics and everybody at large who would not concede that +the attractions managed by Perkins were the "greatest on earth." + +"We'll never see his like again--come in!" this last in answer to a +knock. + +Diotti appeared at the open door. Perkins jumped like one shot from a +catapult, and rushing toward the silent figure in the doorway +exclaimed: "Bless my soul, are you a ghost?" + +"A substantial one," said Diotti with a smile. + +"Are you really here?" continued the astonished impresario, using +Diotti's arm as a pump handle and pinching him at the same time. + +When they were seated Perkins plied Diotti with all manner of +questions: "How did it happen?" "How did you escape?" and the like, +all of which Diotti parried with monosyllabic replies, finally saying: +"I was dissatisfied with my playing and went away to study." + +"Do you know that the failure to fulfill your contract has cost me at +least ten thousand dollars?" said the shrewd manager, the commercial +side of his nature asserting itself. + +"All of which I will pay," quietly replied the artist. "Besides I am +ready to play now, and you can announce a concert within a week if you +like." + +"If I like?" cried the hustling Perkins. "Here, James," calling his +office boy, "run down to the printer's and give him this," making a +note of the various sizes of "paper" he desired, "and tell Mr. +Tompkins that Diotti is back and will give a concert next Tuesday. +Tell Smith to prepare the newspaper 'ads' and notices immediately." + +In an hour Perkins had the entire machinery of his office in motion. +Within twenty-four hours New York had several versions of the +disappearance and return, all leading to one common point--that Diotti +would give a concert the coming Tuesday evening. + +The announcement of the reappearance of the Tuscan contained a line to +the effect that the violinist would play for the first time his new +suite--a meditation on the emotions. + +He had not seen Mildred. + +As he came upon the stage that night the lights were turned low, and +naught but the shadowy outlines of player and violin were seen. His +reception by the audience was not enthusiastic. They evidently +remembered the disappointment caused by his unexpected disappearance, +but this unfriendly attitude soon gave way to evidences of kindlier +feelings. + +Mildred was there, more beautiful than ever, and to gain her love +Diotti would have bartered his soul that moment. + +The first movement of the suite was entitled "Pity," and the music +flowed like melodious tears. A subdued sob rose and fell with the +sadness of the theme. + +Mildred's eyes were moistened as she fixed them on the lone figure of +the player. + +Now the theme of pity changed to hope, and hearts grew brighter under +the spell. The next movement depicted joy. As the _virtuoso's_ fingers +darted here and there, his music seemed the very laughter of fairy +voices, the earth looked roses and sunshine, and Mildred, relaxing her +position and leaning forward in the box, with lips slightly parted, +was the picture of eager happiness. + +The final movement came. Its subject was love. The introduction +depicted the Arcadian beauty of the trysting place, love-lit eyes +sought each other intuitively and a great peace brooded over the +hearts of all. Then followed the song of the Passionate Pilgrim: + + "_If music and sweet poetry agree, + As they must needs, the sister and the brother, + Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me + Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other._ + + * * * * * + + _Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound + That Phoebus' lute (the queen of music) makes; + And I in deep delight, am chiefly drown'd + When as himself to singing he betakes. + One god is god of both, as poets feign, + One knight loves both, and both in thee remain._" + +[Illustration: He took her hand reverently] + +Grander and grander the melody rose, voicing love's triumph with +wondrous sweetness and palpitating rhythm. Mildred, her face flushed +with excitement, a heavenly fire in her eyes and in an attitude of +supplication, reveled in the glory of a new found emotion. + +As the violinist concluded his performance an oppressive silence +pervaded the house, then the audience, wild with excitement, burst +into thunders of applause. In his dressing-room Diotti was besieged by +hosts of people, congratulating him in extravagant terms. + +Mildred Wallace came, extending her hands. He took them almost +reverently. She looked into his eyes, and he knew he had struck the +chord responsive in her soul. + + + + +VIII + + +The sun was high in the heavens when the violinist awoke. A great +weight had been lifted from his heart; he had passed from darkness +into dawn. + +A messenger brought him this note: + + _My Dear Signor Diotti--I am at home this afternoon, and shall + be delighted to see you and return my thanks for the exquisite + pleasure you gave me last evening. Music, such as yours, is + indeed the voice of heaven._ + + _Sincerely, + Mildred Wallace._ + +The messenger returned with this reply: + + _My Dear Miss Wallace--I will call at three to-day._ + + _Gratefully, + Angelo Diotti._ + +He watched the hour drag from eleven to twelve, then counted the +minutes to one, and from that time until he left the hotel each second +was tabulated in his mind. Arriving at her residence, he was ushered +into the drawing-room. It was fragrant with the perfume of violets, +and he stood gazing at her portrait expectant of her coming. + +Dressed in simple white, entrancing in her youthful freshness, she +entered, her face glowing with happiness, her eyes languorous and +expressive. She hastened to him, offering both hands. He held them in +a loving, tender grasp, and for a moment neither spoke. Then she, +gazing clearly and fearlessly into his eyes, said: "My heart has found +its melody!" + +He, kneeling like Sir Gareth of old: "The song and the singer are +yours forever." + +She, bidding him arise: "And I forever yours." And wondering at her +boldness, she added, "I know and feel that you love me--your eyes +confirmed your love before you spoke." Then, convincingly and +ingenuously, "I knew you loved me the moment we first met. Then I did +not understand what that meant to you, now I do." + +He drew her gently to him, and the motive of their happiness was +defined in sweet confessions: "My love, my life--My life, my love." + +The magic of his music had changed her very being, the breath of love +was in her soul, the vision of love was dancing in her eyes. The child +of marble, like the statue of old, had come to life: + + "_And not long since + I was a cold, dull stone! I recollect + That by some means I knew that I was stone; + That was the first dull gleam of consciousness; + I became conscious of a chilly self, + A cold, immovable identity. + I knew that I was stone, and knew no more! + Then, by an imperceptible advance, + Came the dim evidence of outer things, + Seen--darkly and imperfectly--yet seen + The walls surrounding me, and I, alone. + That pedestal--that curtain--then a voice + That called on Galatea! At that word, + Which seemed to shake my marble to the core, + That which was dim before, came evident. + Sounds, that had hummed around me, indistinct, + Vague, meaningless--seemed to resolve themselves + Into a language I could understand; + I felt my frame pervaded by a glow + That seemed to thaw my marble into flesh; + Its cold, hard substance throbbed with active life, + My limbs grew supple, and I moved--I lived! + Lived in the ecstasy of a new-born life! + Lived in the love of him that fashioned me! + Lived in a thousand tangled thoughts of hope._" + +Day after day he came; they told their love, their hopes, their +ambitions. She assumed absolute proprietorship in him. She gloried in +her possession. + +He was born into the world, nurtured in infancy, trained in childhood +and matured into manhood, for one express purpose--to be hers alone. +Her ownership ranged from absolute despotism to humble slavery, and he +was happy through it all. + +One day she said: "Angelo, is it your purpose to follow your +profession always?" + +"Necessarily, it is my livelihood," he replied. + +"But do you not think that after we stand at the altar, we never +should be separated?" + +"We will be together always," said he, holding her face between his +palms, and looking with tender expression into her inquiring eyes. + +"But I notice that women cluster around you after your concerts--and +shake your hand longer than they should--and talk to you longer than +they should--and go away looking self-satisfied!" she replied +brokenly, much as a little girl tells of the theft of her doll. + +"Nonsense," he said, smiling, "that is all part of my profession; it +is not me they care for, it is the music I give that makes them happy. +If, in my playing, I achieve results out of the common, they admire +me!" and he kissed away the unwelcome tears. + +"I know," she continued, "but lately, since we have loved each other, +I can not bear to see a woman near you. In my dreams again and again +an indefinable shadow mockingly comes and cries to me, 'he is not to +be yours, he is to be mine.'" + +Diotti flushed and drew her to him. "Darling," his voice carrying +conviction, "I am yours, you are mine, all in all, in life here and +beyond!" And as she sat dreaming after he had gone, she murmured +petulantly, "I wish there were no other women in the world." + +Her father was expected from Europe on the succeeding day's steamer. +Mr. Wallace was a busy man. The various gigantic enterprises he served +as president or director occupied most of his time. He had been absent +in Europe for several months, and Mildred was anxiously awaiting his +return to tell him of her love. + +When Mr. Wallace came to his residence the next morning, his daughter +met him with a fond display of filial affection; they walked into the +drawing-room, hand in hand; he saw a picture of the violinist on the +piano. "Who's the handsome young fellow?" he asked, looking at the +portrait with the satisfaction a man feels when he sees a splendid +type of his own sex. + +"That is Angelo Diotti, the famous violinist," she said, but she could +not add another word. + +As they strolled through the rooms he noticed no less than three +likenesses of the Tuscan. And as they passed her room he saw still +another on the _chiffonnier_. + +"Seems to me the house is running wild with photographs of that +fiddler," he said. + +For the first time in her life she was self-conscious: "I will wait +for a more opportune time to tell him," she thought. + +In the scheme of Diotti's appearance in New York there were to be two +more concerts. One was to be given that evening. Mildred coaxed her +father to accompany her to hear the violinist. Mr. Wallace was not +fond of music; "it had been knocked out of him on the farm up in +Vermont, when he was a boy," he would apologetically explain, and +besides he had the old puritanical abhorrence of stage people--putting +them all in one class--as puppets who danced or played or talked for +an idle and unthinking public. + +So it was with the thought of a wasted evening that he accompanied +Mildred to the concert. + +The entertainment was a repetition of the others Diotti had given, and +at its end, Mildred said to her father: "Come, I want to congratulate +Signor Diotti in person." + +"That is entirely unnecessary," he replied. + +"It is my desire," and the girl led the unwilling parent back of the +scenes and into Diotti's dressing-room. + +Mildred introduced Diotti to her father, who after a few commonplaces +lapsed into silence. The daughter's enthusiastic interest in Diotti's +performance and her tender solicitude for his weariness after the +efforts of the evening, quickly attracted the attention of Mr. Wallace +and irritated him exceedingly. + +When father and daughter were seated in their carriage and were +hurriedly driving home, he said: "Mildred, I prefer that you have as +little to say to that man as possible." + +"What do you object to in him?" she asked. + +"Everything. Of what use is a man who dawdles away his time on a +fiddle; of what benefit is he to mankind? Do fiddlers build cities? Do +they delve into the earth for precious metals? Do they sow the seed +and harvest the grain? No, no; they are drones--the barnacles of +society." + +"Father, how can you advance such an argument? Music's votaries offer +no apologies for their art. The husbandman places the grain within the +breast of Mother Earth for man's material welfare; God places music in +the heart of man for his spiritual development. In man's spring time, +his bridal day, music means joy. In man's winter time, his burial day, +music means comfort. The heaven-born muse has added to the happiness +of the world. Diotti is a great genius. His art brings rest and +tranquillity to the wearied and despairing," and she did not speak +again until they had reached the house. + +The lights were turned low when father and daughter went into the +drawing-room. Mr. Wallace felt that he had failed to convince Mildred +of the utter worthlessness of fiddlers, big or little, and as one +dissatisfied with the outcome of a contest, re-entered the lists. + +"He has visited you?" + +"Yes, father." + +"Often?" + +"Yes, father," spoken calmly. + +"Often?" louder and more imperiously repeated the father, as if there +must be some mistake. + +"Quite often," and she sat down, knowing the catechizing would be +likely to continue for some minutes. + +"How many times, do you think?" + +She rose, walked into the hallway; took the card basket from the +table, returned and seated herself beside her father, emptying its +contents into her lap. She picked up a card. It read "Angelo Diotti," +and she called the name aloud. She took up another and again her lips +voiced the beloved name. "Angelo Diotti," she continued, repeating at +intervals for a minute. Then looking at her father: "He has called +thirty-two times: there are thirty-one cards here and on one occasion +he forgot his card-case." + +"Thirty-two!" said the father, rising angrily and pacing the floor. + +"Yes, thirty-two. I remember all of them distinctly." + +Her father came over to her, half coaxingly, half seriously. "Mildred, +I wish his visits to cease; people will imagine there is a romantic +attachment between you." + +"There is, father," out it came, "he loves me and I love him." + +[Illustration: Father I will obey you implicitly] + +"What!" shouted Mr. Wallace, and then severely, "this must cease +immediately." + +She rose quietly and led her father over to the mantel. Placing a hand +on each of his shoulders she said: + +"Father, I will obey you implicitly if you can name a reasonable +objection to the man I love. But you can not. I love him with my whole +soul. I love him for the nobility of his character, and because there +is none other in the world for him, nor for me." + + + + +IX + + +Old Sanders as boy and man had been in the employ of the banking and +brokerage firm of Wallace Brothers for two generations. The firm +gradually had advanced his position until now he was confidential +adviser and general manager, besides having an interest in the profits +of the business. + +He enjoyed the friendship of Mr. Wallace, and had been a constant +visitor at his house from the first days of that gentleman's married +life. He himself was alone in the world, a confirmed bachelor. He had +seen Mildred creep from babyhood into childhood, and bud from girlhood +to womanhood. To Mildred he was one of that numerous army of brevet +relations known as "gran-pop," "pop," or "uncle." To her he was Uncle +Sanders. + +If the old man had one touch of human nature in him it was a +solicitude for Mildred's future--an authority arrogated to himself--to +see that she married the right man; but even that was directed to her +material gain in this world's goods, and not to any sentimental +consideration for her happiness. He flattered himself that by timely +suggestion he had "stumped" at least half a dozen would-be candidates +for Mildred's hand. He pooh-poohed love as a necessity for marital +felicity, and would enforce his argument by quoting from the bard: + +"All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve +an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of +ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one." + +"You can get at a man's income," he would say, "but not at his heart. +Love without money won't travel as far as money without love," and +many married people whose bills were overdue wondered if the old +fellow was not right. + +He was cold-blooded and generally disliked by the men under him. The +more evil-minded gossips in the bank said he was in league with "Old +Nick." That, of course, was absurd, for it does not necessarily +follow, because a man suggests a means looking to an end, disreputable +though it be, that he has Mephistopheles for a silent partner. The +conservative element among the employees would not openly venture so +far, but rather thought if his satanic majesty and old Sanders ran a +race, the former would come in a bad second, if he were not distanced +altogether. + +The old man always reached the office at nine. Mr. Wallace usually +arrived a half hour later, seldom earlier, which was so well +understood by Sanders that he was greatly surprised when he walked +into the president's office, the morning after that gentleman had +attended Diotti's concert, to find the head of the firm already there +and apparently waiting for him. + +"Sanders," said the banker, "I want your advice on a matter of great +importance and concern to me." + +Sanders came across the room and stood beside the desk. + +"Briefly as possible, I am much exercised about my daughter." + +The old man moved up a chair and buried himself in it. Pressing his +elbows tightly against his sides, he drew his neck in, and with the +tips of his right hand fingers consorted and coquetted with their like +on the opposite hand; then he simply asked, "Who is the man?" + +"He is the violinist who has created such a sensation here, Angelo +Diotti." + +"Yes, I've seen the name in print," returned the old man. + +"He has bewitched Mildred. I never have seen her show the least +interest in a man before. She never has appeared to me as an +impressionable girl or one that could easily be won." + +"That is very true," ejaculated Sanders; "she always seemed tractable +and open to reason in all questions of love and courting. I can recall +several instances where I have set her right by my estimation of men, +and invariably she has accepted my views." + +"And mine until now," said the father, and then he recounted his +experience of the night before. "I had hoped she would not fall in +love, but be a prop and comfort to me now that I am alone. I am +dismayed at the prospect before me." + +Then the old man mused: "In the chrysalis state of girlhood, a parent +arranges all the details of his daughter's future; when and whom she +shall marry. 'I shall not allow her to fall in love until she is +twenty-three,' says the fond parent. 'I shall not allow her to marry +until she is twenty-six,' says the fond parent. 'The man she marries +will be the one I approve of, and then she will live happy ever +after,' concludes the fond parent." + +Deluded parent! false prophet! The anarchist, Love, steps in and +disdains all laws, rules and regulations. When finally the father +confronts the defying daughter, she calmly says, "Well, what are you +going to do about it?" And then tears, forgiveness, complete +capitulation, and, sometimes, she and her husband live happily ever +afterwards. + +"We must find some means to end this attachment. A union between a +musician and my daughter would be most mortifying to me. Some plan +must be devised to separate them, but she must not know of it, for she +is impatient of restraint and will not brook opposition." + +"Are you confident she really loves this violinist?" + +"She confessed as much to me," said the perturbed banker. + +Old Sanders tapped with both hands on his shining cranium and asked, +"Are you confident he loves her?" + +"No. Even if he does not, he no doubt makes the pretense, and she +believes him. A man who fiddles for money is not likely to ignore an +opportunity to angle for the same commodity," and the banker, with a +look of scorn on his face, threw himself back into the chair. + +"Does she know that you do not approve of this man?" + +"I told her that I desired the musician's visits to cease." + +"And her answer?" + +"She said she would obey me if I could name one reasonable objection +to the man, and then, with an air of absolute confidence in the +impossibility of such a contingency, added, 'But you can not.'" + +"Yes, but you must," said Sanders. "Mildred is strangely constituted. +If she loves this man, her love can be more deadly to the choice of +her heart than her hate to one she abhors. The impatience of restraint +you speak of and her very inability to brook opposition can be turned +to good account now." And old Sanders again tapped in the rhythm of a +dirge on his parchment-bound cranium. + +"Your plan?" eagerly asked the father, whose confidence in his +secretary was absolute. + +"I would like to study them together. Your position will be stronger +with Mildred if you show no open opposition to the man or his +aspirations; bring us together at your house some evening, and if I +can not enter a wedge of discontent, then they are not as others." + + * * * * * + +Mildred was delighted when her father told her on his return in the +evening that he was anxious to meet Signor Diotti, and suggested a +dinner party within a few days. He said he would invite Mr. Sanders, +as that gentleman, no doubt, would consider it a great privilege to +meet the famous musician. Mildred immediately sent an invitation to +Diotti, adding a request that he bring his violin and play for Uncle +Sanders, as the latter had found it impossible to attend his concerts +during the season, yet was fond of music, especially violin music. + + + + +X + + +The little dinner party passed off pleasantly, and as old Sanders +lighted his cigar he confided to Diotti, with a braggart's assurance, +that when he was a youngster he was the best fiddler for twenty miles +around. "I tell you there is nothing like a fiddler to catch a +petticoat," he said, with a sharp nudge of his elbow into Diotti's +ribs. "When I played the Devil's Dream there wasn't a girl in the +country could keep from dancing, and 'Rosalie, the Prairie Flower,' +brought them on their knees to me every time;" then after a pause, "I +don't believe people fiddle as well nowadays as they did in the good +old times," and he actually sighed in remembrance. + +Mildred smiled and whispered to Diotti. He took his violin from the +case and began playing. It seemed to her as if from above showers of +silvery merriment were falling to earth. The old man watched intently, +and as the player changed from joy to pity, from love back to +happiness, Sanders never withdrew his gaze. His bead-like eyes +followed the artist; he saw each individual finger rise and fall, and +the bow bound over the finger-board, always avoiding, never coming in +contact with the middle string. Suddenly the old man beat a tattoo on +his cranium and closed his eyes, apparently deep in thought. + +As Diotti ceased playing, Sanders applauded vociferously, and moving +toward the violinist, said: "Magnificent! I never have heard better +playing! What is the make of your violin?" + +Diotti, startled at this question, hurriedly put the instrument in its +case; "Oh, it is a famous make," he drawled. + +"Will you let me examine it?" said the elder, placing his hand on the +case. + +"I never allow any one to touch my violin," replied Diotti, closing +the cover quickly. + +"Why; is there a magic charm about it, that you fear other hands may +discover?" queried the old man. + +"I prefer that no one handle it," said the _virtuoso_ commandingly. + +"Very well," sighed the old man resignedly, "there are violins and +violins, and no doubt yours comes within that category," this half +sneeringly. + +"Uncle," interposed Mildred tactfully, "you must not be so persistent. +Signor Diotti prizes his violin highly and will not allow any one to +play upon it but himself," and the look of relief on Diotti's face +amply repaid her. + +Mr. Wallace came in at that moment, and with perfunctory interest in +his guest, invited him to examine the splendid collection of +revolutionary relics in his study. + +"I value them highly," said the banker, "both for patriotic and +ancestral reasons. The Wallaces fought and died for their country, and +helped to make this land what it is." + +The father and the violinist went to the study, leaving the daughter +and old Sanders in the drawing-room. The old man, seating himself in a +large armchair, said: "Mildred, my dear, I do not wonder at the +enormous success of this Diotti." + +"He is a wonderful artist," replied Mildred; "critics and public alike +place him among the greatest of his profession." + +"He is a good-looking young fellow, too," said the old man. + +"I think he is the handsomest man I ever have seen," replied the girl. + +"Where does he come from?" continued Sanders. + +"St. Casciano, a small town in Tuscany." + +"Has he a family?" + +"Only a sister, whom he loves dearly," good-naturedly answered the +girl. + +"And no one else?" continued the seemingly garrulous old man. + +"None that I have heard him speak of. No, certainly not," rather +impetuously replied Mildred. + +"How old is he?" continued the old man. + +"Twenty-eight next month; why do you wish to know?" she quizzically +asked. + +"Simply idle curiosity," old Sanders carelessly replied. "I wonder if +he is in love with any one in Tuscany?" + +"Of course not; how could he be?" quickly rejoined the girl. + +"And why not?" added old Sanders. + +"Why? Because, because--he is in love with some one in America." + +"Ah, with you, I see," said the old man, as if it were the greatest +discovery of his life; "are you sure he has not some beautiful +sweetheart in Tuscany as well as here?" + +"What a foolish question," she replied. "Men like Angelo Diotti do not +fall in love as soldiers fall in line. Love to a man of his nobility +is too serious to be treated so lightly." + +"Very true, and that's what has excited my curiosity!" whereupon the +old man smoked away in silence. + +"Excited your curiosity!" said Mildred. "What do you mean?" + +"It may be something; it may be nothing; but my speculative instinct +has been aroused by a strange peculiarity in his playing." + +"His playing is wonderful!" replied Mildred proudly. + +"Aye, more than wonderful! I watched him intently," said the old man; +"I noted with what marvelous facility he went from one string to the +other. But however rapid, however difficult the composition, he +steadily avoided one string; in fact, that string remained untouched +during the entire hour he played for us." + +"Perhaps the composition did not call for its use," suggested Mildred, +unconscious of any other meaning in the old man's observation, save +praise for her lover. + +"Perhaps so, but the oddity impressed me; it was a new string to me. I +have never seen one like it on a violin before." + +"That can scarcely be, for I do not remember of Signor Diotti telling +me there was anything unusual about his violin." + +"I am sure it has a fifth string." + +"And I am equally sure the string can be of no importance or Angelo +would have told me of it," Mildred quickly rejoined. + +"I recall a strange story of Paganini," continued the old man, +apparently not noticing her interruption; "he became infatuated with a +lady of high rank, who was insensible of the admiration he had for her +beauty. + +"He composed a love scene for two strings, the 'E' and 'G,' the first +was to personate the lady, the second himself. It commenced with a +species of dialogue, intending to represent her indifference and his +passion; now sportive, now sad; laughter on her part and tears from +him, ending in an apotheosis of loving reconciliation. It affected the +lady to that degree that ever after she loved the violinist." + +"And no doubt they were happy?" Mildred suggested smilingly. + +"Yes," said the old man, with assumed sentiment, "even when his +profession called him far away, for she had made him promise her he +never would play upon the two strings whose music had won her heart, +so those strings were mute, except for her." + +The old man puffed away in silence for a moment, then with logical +directness continued: "Perhaps the string that's mute upon Diotti's +violin is mute for some such reason." + +"Nonsense," said the girl, half impatiently. + +"The string is black and glossy as the tresses that fall in tangled +skeins on the shoulders of the dreamy beauties of Tuscany. It may be +an idle fancy, but if that string is not a woven strand from some +woman's crowning glory, then I have no discernment." + +"You are jesting, uncle," she replied, but her heart was heavy +already. + +"Ask him to play on that string; I'll wager he'll refuse," said the +old man, contemptuously. + +"He will not refuse when I ask him, but I will not to-night," answered +the unhappy girl, with forced determination. Then, taking the old +man's hands, she said: "Good-night, I am going to my room; please make +my excuses to Signor Diotti and father," and wearily she ascended the +stairs. + +Mr. Wallace and the violinist soon after joined old Sanders, fresh +cigars were lighted and regrets most earnestly expressed by the +violinist for Mildred's "sick headache." + +"No need to worry; she will be all right in the morning," said +Sanders, and he and the violinist buttoned their coats tightly about +them, for the night was bitter cold, and together they left the house. + +In her bed-chamber Mildred stood looking at the portrait of her lover. +She studied his face long and intently, then crossing the room she +mechanically took a volume from the shelf, and as she opened it her +eyes fell on these lines: "How art thou fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, +son of the Morning!" + + * * * * * + +Old Sanders builded better than he knew. + + + + +XI + + +When Diotti and old Sanders left the house they walked rapidly down +Fifth Avenue. It was after eleven, and the streets were bare of +pedestrians, but blinking-eyed cabs came up the avenue, looking at a +distance like a trail of Megatheriums, gliding through the darkness. +The piercing wind made the men hasten their steps, the old man by a +semi-rotary motion keeping up with the longer strides and measured +tread of the younger. + +When they reached Fourteenth Street, the elder said, "I live but a +block from here," pointing eastward; "what do you say to a hot toddy? +It will warm the cockles of your heart; come over to my house and I'll +mix you the best drink in New York." + +The younger thought the suggestion a good one and they turned toward +the house of old Sanders. + +It was a neat, red brick, two-story house, well in from the street, +off the line of the more pretentious buildings on either side. As the +old man opened the iron gate, the police officer on the beat passed; +he peered into the faces of the men, and recognizing Sanders, said, +"tough night, sir." + +"Very," replied the addressed. + +"All good old gentlemen should be in bed at this hour," said the +officer, lifting one foot after the other in an effort to keep warm, +and in so doing showing little terpsichorean grace. + +"It's only the shank of the evening, officer," rejoined the old man, +as he fumbled with the latch key and finally opened the door. The two +men entered and the officer passed on. + +Every man has a fad. One will tell you he sees nothing in billiards or +pool or golf or tennis, but will grow enthusiastic over the scientific +possibilities of mumble-peg; you agree with him, only you substitute +"skittles" for "mumble-peg." + +Old Sanders' fad was mixing toddies and punches. + +"The nectar of the gods pales into nothingness when compared with a +toddy such as I make," said he. "Ambrosia may have been all right for +the degenerates of the old Grecian and Roman days, but an American +gentleman demands a toddy--a hot toddy." And then he proceeded with +circumspection and dignity to demonstrate the process of decocting +that mysterious beverage. + +The two men took off their overcoats and went into the sitting-room. A +pile of logs burned brightly in the fire-place. The old man threw +another on the burning heap, filled the kettle with water and hung it +over the fire. Next he went to the sideboard and brought forth the +various ingredients for the toddy. + +"How do you like America?" said the elder, with commonplace +indifference, as he crunched a lump of sugar in the bottom of the +glass, dissolving the particles with a few drops of water. + +"Very much, indeed," said the Tuscan, with the air of a man who had +answered the question before. + +"Great country for girls!" said Sanders, pouring a liberal quantity of +Old Tom gin in the glass and placing it where it gradually would get +warm. + +"And for men!" responded Diotti, enthusiastically. + +"Men don't amount to much here, women run everything," retorted the +elder, while he repeated the process of preparing the sugar and gin in +the second glass. The kettle began to sing. + +"That's music for you," chuckled the old man, raising the lid to see +if the water had boiled sufficiently. "Do you know I think a dinner +horn and a singing kettle beat a symphony all hollow for real +down-right melody," and he lifted the kettle from the fire-place. + +Diotti smiled. + +With mathematical accuracy the old man filled the two tumblers with +boiling water. + +"Try that," handing a glass of the toddy to Diotti; "you will find it +all right," and the old man drew an armchair toward the fire-place, +smacking his lips in anticipation. + +The violinist placed his chair closer to the fire and sipped the +drink. + +"Your country is noted for its beautiful women?" + +"We have exquisite types of femininity in Tuscany," said the young +man, with patriotic ardor. + +"Any as fine looking as--as--as--well, say the young lady we dined +with to-night?" + +"Miss Wallace?" queried the Tuscan. + +"Yes, Miss Wallace," this rather impatiently. + +"She is very beautiful," said Diotti, with solemn admiration. + +"Have you ever seen any one prettier?" questioned the old man, after a +second prolonged sip. + +"I have no desire to see any one more beautiful," said the violinist, +feeling that the other was trying to draw him out, and determined not +to yield. + +"You will pardon the inquisitiveness of an old man, but are not you +musicians a most impressionable lot?" + +"We are human," answered the violinist. + +"I imagined you were like sailors and had a sweetheart in every port." + +"That would be a delightful prospect to one having polygamous +aspirations, but for myself, one sweetheart is enough," laughingly +said the musician. + +"Only one! Well, here's to her! With this nectar fit for the gods and +goddesses of Olympus, let us drink to her," said old Sanders, with +convivial dignity, his glass raised on high. "Here's wishing health +and happiness to the dreamy-eyed Tuscan beauty, whom you love and who +loves you." + +"Stop!" said Diotti; "we will drink to the first part of that toast," +and holding his glass against that of his bibulous host, continued: +"To the dreamy-eyed women of my country, exacting of their lovers; +obedient to their parents and loyal to their husbands," and his voice +rose in sonorous rhythm with the words. + +"Now for the rest of the toast, to the one you love and who loves +you," came from Sanders. + +"To the one I love and who loves me, God bless her!" fervently cried +the guest. + +"Is she a Tuscan?" asked old Sanders slyly. + +"She is an angel!" impetuously answered the violinist. + +"Then she is an American!" said the old man gallantly. + +"She is an American," repeated Diotti, forgetting himself for the +instant. + +"Let me see if I can guess her name," said old Sanders. "It's--it's +Mildred Wallace!" and his manner suggested a child solving a riddle. + +The violinist, about to speak, checked himself and remained silent. + +"I sincerely pity Mildred if ever she falls in love," abstractedly +continued the host while filling another glass. + +"Pray why?" was anxiously asked. + +The old man shifted his position and assumed a confidential tone and +attitude: "Signor Diotti, jealousy is a more universal passion than +love itself. Environment may develop our character, influence our +tastes and even soften our features, but heredity determines the +intensity of the two leading passions, love and jealousy. Mildred's +mother was a beautiful woman, but consumed with an overpowering +jealousy of her husband. It was because she loved him. The body-guard +of jealousy--envy, malice and hatred--were not in her composition. +When Mildred was a child of twelve I have seen her mother suffer the +keenest anguish because Mr. Wallace fondled the child. She thought the +child had robbed her of her husband's love." + +"Such a woman as Miss Wallace would command the entire love and +admiration of her husband at all times," said the artist. + +"If she should marry a man she simply likes, her chances for happiness +would be normal." + +"In what manner?" asked the lover. + +"Because she would be little concerned about him or his actions." + +"Then you believe," said the musician, "that the man who loves her and +whom she loves should give her up because her chances of happiness +would be greater away from him than with him?" + +"That would be an unselfish love," said the elder. + +"Suppose they have declared their passion?" asked Diotti. + +"A parting before doubt and jealousy had entered her mind would let +the image of her sacrificing lover live within her soul as a tender +and lasting memory; he always would be her ideal," and the accent old +Sanders placed on _always_ left no doubt of his belief. + +"Why should doubt and jealousy enter her life?" said the violinist, +falling into the personal character of the discussion despite himself. + +"My dear sir, from what I observed to-night, she loves you. You are a +dangerous man for a jealous woman to love. You are not a cloistered +monk, you are a man before the public; you win the admiration of many; +some women do not hesitate to show you their preference. To a woman +like Mildred that would be torture; she could not and would not +separate the professional artist from the lover or husband." + +And Diotti, remembering Mildred's words, could not refute the old +man's statements. + +"If you had known her mother as I did," continued the old man, +realizing his argument was making an impression on the violinist, "you +would see the agony in store for the daughter if she married a man +such as you, a public servant, a public favorite." + +"I would live my life not to excite her suspicions or jealousy," said +the artist, with boyish enthusiasm and simplicity. + +"Foolish fellow," retorted Sanders, skeptically; "women imagine, they +don't reason. A scented note unopened on the dressing table can cause +more unhappiness to your wife than the loss of his country to a king. +My advice to you is: do not marry; but if you must, choose one who is +more interested in your gastronomic felicity than in your marital +constancy." + +Diotti was silent. He was pondering the words of his host. Instead of +seeing in Mildred a possibly jealous woman, causing mental misery, she +appeared a vision of single-hearted devotion. He felt: "To be loved by +such a one is bliss beyond the dreams of this world." + + + + +XII + + +A tipsy man is never interesting, and Sanders in that condition was no +exception. The old man arose with some effort, walked toward the +window and, shading his eyes, looked out. The snow was drifting, swept +hither and thither by the cutting wind that came through the streets +in great gusts. Turning to the violinist, he said, "It's an awful +night; better remain here until morning. You'll not find a cab; in +fact, I will not let you go while this storm continues," and the old +man raised the window, thrusting his head out for an instant. As he +did so the icy blast that came in settled any doubt in the young man's +mind and he concluded to stop over night. + +It was nearly two o'clock; Sanders showed him to his room and then +returned down stairs to see that everything was snug and secure. After +changing his heavy shoes for a pair of old slippers and wrapping a +dressing gown around him, the old man stretched his legs toward the +fire and sipped his toddy. + +"He isn't a bad sort for a violinist," mused the old man; "if he were +worth a million, I believe I'd advise Wallace to let him marry her. A +fiddler! A million! Sounds funny," and he laughed shrilly. + +He turned his head and his eyes caught sight of Diotti's violin case +resting on the center table. He staggered from the chair and went +toward it; opening the lid softly, he lifted the silken coverlet +placed over the instrument and examined the strings intently. "I am +right," he said; "it is wrapped with hair, and no doubt from a woman's +head. Eureka!" and the old man, happy in the discovery that his +surmises were correct, returned to his chair and his toddy. + +He sat looking into the fire. The violin had brought back memories of +the past and its dead. He mumbled, as if to the fire, "she loved me; +she loved my violin. I was a devil; my violin was a devil," and the +shadows on the wall swayed like accusing spirits. He buried his face +in his hands and cried piteously, "I was so young; too young to know." +He spoke as if he would conciliate the ghastly shades that moved +restlessly up and down, when suddenly--"Sanders, don't be a fool!" + +He ambled toward the table again. "I wonder who made the violin? He +would not tell me when I asked him to-night; thank you for your pains, +but I will find out myself," and he took the violin from the case. +Holding it with the light slanting over it, he peered inside, but +found no inscription. "No maker's name--strange," he said. He tiptoed +to the foot of the stairs and listened intently; "he must be asleep; +he won't hear me," and noiselessly he closed the door. "I guess if I +play a tune on it he won't know." + +He took the bow from its place in the case and tightened it. He +listened again. "He is fast asleep," he whispered. "I'll play the song +I always played for her--until," and the old man repeated the words of +the refrain: + + "_Fair as a lily, joyous and free, + Light of the prairie home was she; + Every one who knew her felt the gentle power + Of Rosalie, the Prairie Flower._" + +He sat again in the arm-chair and placed the violin under his chin. +Tremulously he drew the bow across the middle string, his bloodless +fingers moving slowly up and down. + +The theme he played was the melody to the verse he had just repeated, +but the expression was remorse. + + * * * * * + +Diotti sat upright in bed. "I am positive I heard a violin!" he said, +holding one hand toward his head in an attitude of listening. He was +wide awake. The drifting snow beat against the window panes and the +wind without shrieked like a thousand demons of the night. He could +sleep no more. He arose and hastily dressed. The room was bitterly +cold; he was shivering. He thought of the crackling logs in the +fire-place below. He groped his way along the darkened staircase. As +he opened the door leading into the sitting-room the fitful gleam of +the dying embers cast a ghastly light over the face of a corpse. + +Diotti stood a moment, his eyes transfixed with horror. The violin and +bow still in the hands of the dead man told him plainer than words +what had happened. He went toward the chair, took the instrument from +old Sanders' hands and laid it on the table. Then he knelt beside the +body, and placing his ear close over the heart, listened for some sign +of life, but the old man was beyond human aid. + +He wheeled the chair to the side of the room and moved the body to the +sofa. Gently he covered it with a robe. The awfulness of the situation +forced itself upon him, and bitterly he blamed himself. The terrible +power of the instrument dawned upon him in all its force. Often he had +played on the strings telling of pity, hope, love and joy, but now, +for the first time, he realized what that fifth string meant. + +"I must give it back to its owner." + +"If you do you can never regain it," whispered a voice within. + +"I do not need it," said the violinist, almost audibly. + +"Perhaps not," said the voice, "but if her love should wane how would +you rekindle it? Without the violin you would be helpless." + +"Is it not possible that, in this old man's death, all its fatal power +has been expended?" + +He went to the table and took the instrument from its place. "You won +her for me; you have brought happiness and sunshine into my life. No! +No! I can not, will not give you up," then placing the violin and bow +in its case he locked it. + +The day was breaking. In an hour the baker's boy came. Diotti went to +the door, gave him a note addressed to Mr. Wallace and asked him to +deliver it at once. The boy consented and drove rapidly away. + +Within an hour Mr. Wallace arrived; Diotti told the story of the +night. After the undertaker had taken charge of the body he found on +the dead man's neck, just to the left of the chin, a dullish, black +bruise which might have been caused by the pressing of some blunt +instrument, or by a man's thumb. Considering it of much importance, he +notified the coroner, who ordered an inquest. + +At six o'clock that evening a jury was impaneled, and two hours later +its verdict was reported. + + + + +XIII + + +On leaving the house of the dead man Diotti walked wearily to his +hotel. In flaring type at every street corner he saw the announcement +for Thursday evening, March thirty-first, of Angelo Diotti's last +appearance: "To-night I play for the last time," he murmured in a +voice filled with deepest regret. + +The feeling of exultation so common to artists who finally reach the +goal of their ambition was wanting in Diotti this morning. He could +not rid himself of the memory of Sanders' tragic death. The figure of +the old man clutching the violin and staring with glassy eyes into the +dying fire would not away. + +When he reached the hotel he tried to rest, but his excited brain +banished every thought of slumber. Restlessly he moved about the room, +and finally dressing, he left the hotel for his daily call on Mildred. +It was after five o'clock when he arrived. She received him coldly and +without any mark of affection. + +She had heard of Mr. Sanders' death; her father had sent word. "It +shocked me greatly," she said; "but perhaps the old man is happier in +a world far from strife and care. When we realize all the misery there +is in this world we often wonder why we should care to live." Her tone +was despondent, her face was drawn and blanched, and her eyes gave +evidence of weeping. + +Diotti divined that something beyond sympathy for old Sanders' sudden +death racked her soul. He went toward her and lovingly taking her +hands, bent low and pressed his lips to them; they were cold as +marble. + +"Darling," he said; "something has made you unhappy. What is it?" + +"Tell me, Angelo, and truly; is your violin like other violins?" + +This unexpected question came so suddenly he could not control his +agitation. + +"Why do you ask?" he said. + +"You must answer me directly!" + +"No, Mildred; my violin is different from any other I have ever seen," +this hesitatingly and with great effort at composure. + +"In what way is it different?" she almost demanded. + +"It is peculiarly constructed; it has an extra string. But why this +sudden interest in the violin? Let us talk of you, of me, of both, of +our future," said he with enforced cheerfulness. + +"No, we will talk of the violin. Of what use is the extra string?" + +"None whatever," was the quick reply. + +"Then why not cut it off?" + +"No, no, Mildred; you do not understand," he cried; "I can not do +that." + +"You can not do it when I ask it?" she exclaimed. + +"Oh Mildred, do not ask me; I can not, can not do it," and the face of +the affrighted musician told plainer than words of the turmoil raging +in his soul. + +"You made me believe that I was the only one you loved," passionately +she cried; "the only one; that your happiness was incomplete without +me. You led me into the region of light only to make the darkness +greater when I descended to earth again. I ask you to do a simple +thing and you refuse; you refuse because another has commanded you." + +"Mildred, Mildred; if you love me do not speak thus!" + +And she, with imagination greater than reasoning power, at once saw a +Tuscan beauty and Diotti mutually pledging their love with their +lives. + +"Go," she said, pointing to the door, "go to the one who owns you, +body and soul; then say that a foolish woman threw her heart at your +feet and that you scorned it!" She sank to the sofa. + +He went toward the door, and in a voice that sounded like the echo of +despair, protested: "Mildred, I love you; love you a thousand times +more than I do my life. If I should destroy the string, as you ask, +love and hope would leave me forevermore. Death would not be robbed of +its terror!" and with bowed head he went forth into the twilight. + +She ran to the window and watched his retreating figure as he +vanished. "Uncle Sanders was right; he loves another woman, and that +string binds them together. He belongs to her!" Long and silently she +stood by the window, gazing at the shadowing curtain of the coming +night. At last her face softened. "Perhaps he does not love her now, +but fears her vengeance. No, no; he is not a coward! I should have +approached him differently; he is proud, and maybe he resented my +imperative manner," and a thousand reasons why he should or should not +have removed that string flashed through her mind. + +"I will go early to the concert to-night and see him before he plays. +Uncle Sanders said he did not touch that string when he played. Of +course he will play on it for me, even if he will not cut it off, and +then if he says he loves me, and only me, I will believe him. I want +to believe him; I want to believe him," all this in a semi-hysterical +way addressed to the violinist's portrait on the piano. + +When she entered her carriage an hour later, telling the coachman to +drive direct to the stage-door of the Academy, she appeared more +fascinating than ever before. + +She was sitting in his dressing-room waiting for him when he arrived. +He had aged years in a day. His step was uncertain, his eyes were +sunken and his hand trembled. His face brightened as she arose, and +Mildred met him in the center of the room. He lifted her hand and +pressed a kiss upon it. + +"Angelo, dear," she said in repentant tone; "I am sorry I pained you +this afternoon; but I am jealous, so jealous of you." + +"Jealous?" he said smilingly; "there is no need of jealousy in our +lives; we love each other truly and only." + +"That is just what I think, we will never doubt each other again, will +we?" + +"Never!" he said solemnly. + +He had placed his violin case on the table in the room. She went to it +and tapped the top playfully; then suddenly said: "I am going to look +at your violin, Angelo," and before he could interfere, she had taken +the silken coverlet off and was examining the instrument closely. +"Sure enough, it has five strings; the middle one stands higher than +the rest and is of glossy blackness. Uncle Sanders was right; it is a +woman's hair! + +"Why is that string made of hair?" she asked, controlling her emotion. + +"Only a fancy," he said, feigning indifference. + +"Though you would not remove it at my wish this afternoon, Angelo; I +know you will not refuse to play on it for me now." + +He raised his hands in supplication. "Mildred! Mildred! Stop! do not +ask it!" + +"You refuse after I have come repentant, and confessing my doubts and +fears? Uncle Sanders said you would not play upon it for me; he told +me it was wrapped with a woman's hair, the hair of the woman you +love." + +"I swear to you, Mildred, that I love but you!" + +"Love me? Bah! And another woman's tresses sacred to you? Another +woman's pledge sacred to you? I asked you to remove the string; you +refused. I ask you now to play upon it; you refuse," and she paced the +room like a caged tigress. + +"I will watch to-night when you play," she flashed. "If you do not use +that string we part forever." + +He stood before her and attempted to take her hand; she repulsed him +savagely. + +Sadly then he asked: "And if I do play upon it?" + +"I am yours forever--yours through life--through eternity," she cried +passionately. + +The call-boy announced Diotti's turn; the violinist led Mildred to a +seat at the entrance of the stage. His appearance was the signal for +prolonged and enthusiastic greeting from the enormous audience +present. He clearly was the idol of the metropolis. + +[Illustration: If you do not play upon it we separate forever] + +The lights were lowered, a single calcium playing with its soft and +silvery rays upon his face and shoulders. The expectant audience +scarcely breathed as he began his theme. It was pity--pity molded into +a concord of beautiful sounds, and when he began the second movement +it was but a continuation of the first; his fingers sought but one +string, that of pity. Again he played, and once more pity stole from +the violin. + +When he left the stage Mildred rushed to him. "You did not touch that +string; you refuse my wish?" and the sounds of mighty applause without +drowned his pleading voice. + +"I told you if you refused me I was lost to you forever! Do you +understand?" + +Diotti returned slowly to the center of the stage and remained +motionless until the audience subsided. Facing Mildred, whose color +was heightened by the intensity of her emotion, he began softly to +play. His fingers sought the string of Death. The audience listened +with breathless interest. The composition was weirdly and strangely +fascinating. + +The player told with wondrous power of despair,--of hope, of faith; +sunshine crept into the hearts of all as he pictured the promise of an +eternal day; higher and higher, softer and softer grew the theme until +it echoed as if it were afar in the realms of light and floating o'er +the waves of a golden sea. + +Suddenly the audience was startled by the snapping of a string; the +violin and bow dropped from the nerveless hands of the player. He fell +helpless to the stage. + +Mildred rushed to him, crying, "Angelo, Angelo, what is it? What has +happened?" Bending over him she gently raised his head and showered +unrestrained kisses upon his lips, oblivious of all save her lover. + +"Speak! Speak!" she implored. + +A faint smile illumined his face; he gazed with ineffable tenderness +into her weeping eyes, then slowly closed his own as if in slumber. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIFTH STRING*** + + +******* This file should be named 29481.txt or 29481.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/4/8/29481 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/29481.zip b/29481.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a0e548c --- /dev/null +++ b/29481.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5293f35 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #29481 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29481) |
