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On the following day, as the guests were all seated at the table, a knock announced some strangers. They were the old fisherman and the young sailor who had been captives with Antonio, but were now free and had come to offer their thanks. It was a touching sight.
Ashmed said, "Don't thank me, but rather this boy. He is your emanc.i.p.ator."
"Yes," said the old fisherman, "this is the boy who appeared to us, like an angel, and comforted us as we sat in chains. We now lay our thanks at his feet."
Antonio waved them back and said, "Thank my dear parents, for they taught me by word and example; and everything I have done is due to their training."
Then Antonio's father stepped into their midst and raising his eyes to heaven, said: "All honor and praise we give to G.o.d. As always, He has made everything turn out for the best. He sends us great sorrows for some good purpose; but He also sends us great joys. When a child follows the good instructions received from good parents, makes good use of his talents, and forgets not to be grateful, he will become an instrument of good for the benefit of humanity. Antonio was sent to you in your captivity, and through Antonio you were all led back to your liberty.
Let us give thanks."
After a long silence, the conversation again became animated. The men narrated the varied incidents in their lives, and talked about their future prospects.
Ashmed gave the men some ready money with which to start in business, and they promised to repay him as soon as they were able. Ashmed did not wish the money refunded, but they felt that it would be more manly to do this.
As the time for departure arrived, the men bade Antonio and Ashmed good-bye, and were off.
The next day Antonio returned to college. He continued his studies there for several years, and was graduated with high honors.
In the course of time he became an opera singer of international fame.
He always maintained a dignified bearing, free from any vanity; and recognizing his gift as coming from G.o.d, accepted the praise and acclamation of the world in all humility.
He found time in his busy life to help the needy, and later became a director of the society which we have said was organized for the rescue of the outcast. He devoted his voice, his hands, his strength and his life to the betterment of mankind.
THE ARTIST'S MASTER-PIECE
CHAPTERS.
I. THE GIFT.
II. UNDER THE EMPEROR'S BUSH.
III. No PROPHET IN HIS OWN COUNTRY.
IV. THE CONDITION.
V. THE FULFILMENT.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "Hans, undaunted, stepped up to her father."]
THE ARTIST'S MASTERPIECE
CHAPTER I
THE GIFT
A little village with its scattered glimmering lights lay in peaceful dreams. Just as a black swan draws her young under her, so the mighty Cathedral rested in the midst of the low houses, which seemed to creep, like birds, under its wing.
It struck twelve from the church tower, and larger and smaller clocks, near and far, carried the message onward. Dead silence again hovered over the sleeping village.
Just as dawn bathed the hills in sunlight, two stately men wandered along the Cathedral Square. One seemed somewhat older, with his full gray beard. His hair, rich and abundant, curled beneath his velvet cap.
He walked so majestically that one could see, at the very first glance, that he was no ordinary person, but one upon whose shoulders an invisible weight rested. Handsome, tall and n.o.ble, just as one would picture the highest type of man--a king from head to foot.
Here, in the little village of Breisach, as he named it, Emperor Maximilian liked to rest from the cares of his Empire. Here, in this little retreat, filled with calm and quietude, he loved to wander. From here he sent letters full of tender thoughts to his daughter in the Netherlands.
He loved the place well, and christened it "Care-Free."
As Emperor Maximilian walked proudly, but with heavy tread, along the parapet of the Cathedral Square, his eye rested upon the gay scene at his feet. To-day the invisible world of care pressed heavily upon his shoulders. Suddenly he stood still, and turning to his private secretary, he said, "I wonder who those children are who are so industriously planting a rose-bush in the niche of the wall?"
The children, a girl and a boy (the former about eight, and the latter twelve years of age), were so engrossed in their work that they had not noticed the approach of the Emperor, until his presence was so near that it startled them. They turned full face upon him. Then the boy touched the girl and said, "It's the Emperor!"
"What are you doing there?" he asked, and his artistic eye feasted on the beauty of this charming pair.
"We are planting a rose-bush," said the boy, undaunted.
The Emperor smiled, and said, "What is your name?"
"Hans Le Fevre, sir."
"And the little one, is she your sister?"
"No, she is Marie, our neighbor's child."
"Ah!--you like each other very much?"
"Yes, when I'm old enough, and when I own a knife, I'm going to marry her."
The Emperor opened his eyes wide, and said, "Why do you need a knife?"
"Surely," answered the boy, earnestly, "if I have no knife I cannot cut, and if I cannot cut I can earn no money. My mother has always said that without money one cannot marry. Besides, I should have to have much money to enable me to marry my little friend Marie, as she is the Counselor's daughter."
"But," questioned the Emperor, "what do you want to cut?"
"Wood!"
"Ha! ha! I understand. You want to be a wood-carver. Now, I remember that I once met two young boys, named Le Fevre. They were studying in Nurnberg, with Durer, 'The Prince of Artists.' Were they, perhaps, your relatives?"