The First Violin Part 15

"I am all right--try me," said I, my pride rising in arms as I thought of Courvoisier's behavior a short time ago.

"Very well. Now. You are Eva, please remember, the first woman, and you have gone wrong. Think of who is questioning you, and--"

"Oh, yes, yes, I know. Please begin."

He began the accompaniment, and I sung for the fifth time Eva's scattered notes of shame and excuse.

"Brava!" said he, when I had finished, and I was the more startled as he had never before given me the faintest sign of approval, but had found such constant fault with me that I usually had a fit of weeping after my lesson; weeping with rage and disappointment at my own shortcomings.

"At last you know what it means," said he. "I always told you your forte was dramatic singing."

"Dramatic! But this is an oratorio."

"It may be called an oratorio, but it is a drama all the same. What more dramatic, for instance, than what you have just sung, and all that goes before? Now suppose we go on. I will take Adam."

Having given myself up to the music, I sung my best with earnestness.

When we had finished von Francius closed the book, looked at me, and said:

"Will you sing the 'Eva' music at the concert?"

"I?"

He bowed silently, and still kept his eyes fixed upon my face, as if to say, "Refuse if you dare."

"I--I'm afraid I should make such a mess of it," I murmured at last.

"Why any more than to-day?"

"Oh! but all the people!" said I, expostulating; "it is so different."

He gave a little laugh of some amus.e.m.e.nt.

"How odd! and yet how like you!" said he. "Do you suppose that the people who will be at the concert will be half as much alive to your defects as I am? If you can sing before me, surely you can sing before so many rows of--"

"Cabbages? I wish I could think they were."

"Nonsense! What would be the use, where the pleasure, in singing to cabbages? I mean simply inhabitants of Elberthal. What can there be so formidable about them?"

I murmured something.

"Well, will you do it?"

"I am sure I should break down," said I, trying to find some sign of relenting in his eyes. I discovered none. He was not waiting to hear whether I said "yes" or "no," he was waiting until I said "yes."

"If you did," he replied, with a friendly smile, "I should never teach you another note."

"Why not?"

"Because you would be a coward, and not worth teaching."

"But Miss Hallam?"

"Leave her to me."

I still hesitated.

"It is the _premier pas qui coute_," said he, keeping a friendly but determined gaze upon my undecided face.

"I want to accustom you to appearing in public," he added. "By degrees, you know. There is nothing unusual in Germany for one in your position to sing in such a concert."

"I was not thinking of that; but that it is impossible that I can sing well enough--"

"You sing well enough for my purpose. You will be amazed to find what an impetus to your studies, and what a filip to your industry will be given by once singing before a number of other people. And then, on the stage--"

"But I am not going on the stage."

"I think you are. At least, if you do otherwise you will do wrong. You have gifts which are in themselves a responsibility."

"I--gifts--what gifts?" I asked, incredulously. "I am as stupid as a donkey. My sisters always said so, and sisters are sure to know; you may trust them for that."

"Then you will take the soprano solos?"

"Do you think I can?"

"I don't think you can; I say you must. I will call upon Miss Hallam this afternoon. And the _gage_--fee--what you call it?--is fifty thalers."

"What!" I cried, my whole att.i.tude changing to one of greedy expectation. "Shall I be paid?"

"Why, _naturlich_," said he, turning over sheets of music, and averting his face to hide a smile.

"Oh! then I will sing."

"Good! Only please to remember that it is my concert, and I am responsible for the soloists; and pray think rather more about the beautiful glittering serpent than about the beautiful glittering thalers."

"I can think about both," was my unholy, time-serving reply.

Fifty thalers. Untold gold!

CHAPTER XII.

"Prinz Eugen, der edle Ritter."

It was the evening of the haupt-probe, a fine moonlight night in the middle of May--a month since I had come to Elberthal, and it seemed so much, so very much more.

To my astonishment--and far from agreeable astonishment--Anna Sartorius informed me of her intention to accompany me to the probe. I put objections in her way as well as I knew how, and said I did not think outsiders were admitted. She laughed, and said: