. . . wind; the high tremulous notes of a piccolo hovering over the music of the strings as a skylark hovers in the air.

It was more than mortal child could stand, to hear all that and not to be there.

I hopped out of bed, and made for the door. I had[Pg 42] opened it, when the thought came to me that Joubert might come back to the room, as he sometimes did, to see if I were asleep; so I ran to the bed and propped the pillow under the bedclothes. I often slept with the clothes over my head, and the room was so dark that the protuberance of the pillow gave quite a striking representation of a small boy curled up in slumber.

Then I came down the passage to the gallery overlooking the hall. Down below the place was brilliantly lit.

The musicians—four men in long coats, with long hair, and two of them bearded—were opposite to me.

Seated about were the guests: my father, the Countess Feliciani, Count Feliciani, Major von der. . . Read More