the fifth string-第2章

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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。''



‘‘Perhapsand　good…night；''　she

softly　said；　leaving　his　arm　and　joining

her　friends；　who　accompanied　her　to　the

carriage。









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

Musica　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　homefairly　tall；　straight…

limbed　and　lithea　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　dur…

ing　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　happyPerkins　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　beforeall　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　nightsee　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　th