 Section 0 of a bunch of keys where they were found and what they might have unlocked. A Christmas Book Edited by Tom Hood This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Preface by Tom Hood Once upon a time, and I venture to think that a very seasonable commencement for a preface, once upon a time there were half a dozen young writers who, having to toil for their daily bread all the rest of the year, desired at this period of it to make a Christmas pudding. The good old custom of Christmas annuals seemed to them one which should not be allowed to die out altogether. And they set about planning a volume after that model. The following system of stories is what they decided upon. One of their number having been elected to the honorable post of editor. It became his duty to write this preface. But for that duty, I am inclined to think that post would have been a sinecure. This Christmas volume, then, has something more than ordinary of a Christmas nature about it. For it is, in real truth, the growth of friendly communion, of pleasant chance of an evening, of fellowship of taste and feeling. It is a pet child, a hobby of ours in short, and a labor of love. If the public, therefore, like the notion as well as we do, next year will see a successor to a bunch of keys. And I need hardly add that we hope, when the festive season returns again, with its pageantry and memories, that we shall have been encouraged to bring our hobby out again in the procession, and that our readers may have no reason to sigh. For oh, for oh, the hobby horse is forgot. End of Section Zero, Recording by Stefan For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Kristen Edwards. The Bunch of Keys, The Ring, by Thomas W. Robertson. Chapter 1. Concerning a Big Black Box in a Spare Bedroom Suppose, Bob, we forced the lock. I should perhaps mention for the instruction and amusement of the reader, but, as I never wrote a book before, and am aged fourteen, errors must be excused, that Bob, although my brother, was two years younger, that is, two years younger than I. We presented a marked contrast we two brothers. I was fond of reading, and even at the early age of eight had composed verses. Bob, although good-natured, was not a clever scholar, but he was a first-rate fighter, jumper, climber, and tumbler. We got on very well, and were always together. But as a companion from an intellectual point of view, Bob was nowhere. We lived with our father in an old-fashioned rookery oven house, a mile away from any other, in the Midland Counties. Our mother had died when Bob was a baby. Father had been a disappointed man. He ought to have had a large fortune, but somehow or other didn't get it, in consequence of chancellery. So he took our house, which had a few acres of ground attached to it, grass and arable, and went up to London every now and then to look after his law business. We had a housekeeper, old Martha, who looked after us, and a servant called Jane, who looked after Martha. And she was a very curious person, was that Jane, why, once she tried to drown herself in the beck, because her sweetheart had proved false to her, and married somebody else. And yet Jane was a very plain girl, with a nose like a piece of bottle-India rubber she could hardly read and couldn't write at all. But as I was saying, we lived in this old-fashioned rookery, and went every day a mile across the fields to the Reverend Mr. Dewhurst's, to school. It wasn't a regular school, the Reverend Dewhurst's, but he used to teach us. He was curate to the church at Thorpecroft, was the Reverend Dewhurst, and a great friend of father's, and Mrs. Dewhurst was a very nice woman, and their daughter Amy was a very nice girl. No imagination, but a very nice girl for all that. I remember the gentleman who owned the box, coming to stop a week with father. I remember him particularly well, though I was only six years old. I have a wonderful memory, because the end of his nose was like a sponge, a red sponge. He was a tall man, and very pale, and wore a wig, and had a voice so deep and so musical, that it was beautiful to listen to it. While he was stopping with us, the Reverend Dewhurst used to come over to supper with father almost every evening. The three of them had been school fellows, when boys, rug-beans, and they used to sit up over their whiskey and water till early in the morning, at least so I have heard Martha say. And I remember myself hearing father tell Mrs. Dewhurst, when she complained of the Reverend Dewhurst's hours, that he, the tall pale gentleman, was the only man who understood the art of reciting poetry, as it ought to be recited. Well, it was he, the stranger, who brought the box with him, and it was placed where he slept in our spare bedroom. It was a very big black box, and he had no other luggage. One morning I was sent off to the Reverend Dewhurst in a jiffy, and I stopped with Mrs. Dewhurst and Amy for a week. I have been told since that I was sent to be out of the way, for that the tall, pale gentleman, not coming down to breakfast at the usual time, my father went up to his room to call him, and found him dead in his bed. He was buried at Thorpecroft Churchyard, and the Reverend Dewhurst read the burial service over him. I was sent back home, and the big black box had never been moved from our spare bedroom, nor had the broad strap around it ever been unbuckled. Years rolled by, and I merged from childhood into youth. I learned rapidly, the Reverend Dewhurst said too rapidly, and encouraged by my brother Bob's approval, and the bright eyes of Amy, I looked forward to a glorious career. I was intensely fond of reading, and as Mrs. Dewhurst had all the new novels sent to her every month in a green box from the library, I had my fill of romance, sentiment, and adventure. Books formed my mind. While but youthful, I was an intellect a man. Even at what some persons would consider the early age of eleven, I had formed an attachment for Ms. Dewhurst, my Amy, a love which I feel will last my life. It was so pleasant to go out mushrooming together on the common with a book, to sit beside a streamlet beneath the bending branches of a willow, looking over the same page while Bob gathered the mushrooms, for poor Bob had no sentiment. Give him his ditch and his bird's nest, and he cared for nothing else. Amy Dewhurst, what a name for a poet's bride, but the fatal time for parting came, the knell was told, the command was given, the fiat went forth. Amy was to go to boarding school. I will not attempt to describe my grief, or how poor dear Bob endeavored to console me with the pineapple rock which he that day purchased at Thorpecrop Feast. Dear stupid old Bob, how could he understand my feelings? I went to the feast the next day to banish my regret, and I tried to obtain a temporary distraction from a blighted heart by visiting all the shows. We, Bob and I, saw the Leicestershire giant, the pink-eyed albino lady with the long white hair, the boa constrictor and the armadillo, the battle of Navarino, and the siege of Serring of Padham, an Indian chieftain fresh from his native wilds, and a small circus with some capital tumbling by the professor's diavelini. I thought the circus performance would have driven Bob mad. He did nothing but tumble and stand on the bare back of our old pony for days after. I think the showman took a deal of money, for I saw the Indian chieftain quaffing firewater at the four alls with his proprietor and tamer. It was about this time, the sad time of Amy's departure, that I began thinking about the big black box in the spare bedroom. I don't know why I connected these two apparently opposing facts, but I did, and I wondered what was inside the box. I asked Martha, but she said she didn't know. Nor was she conscious of the existence of a key. This was in the beginning of December. My father had gone up to the Swampham Station six miles from our house and started for London to look after his law business. I remember he said before he went that this time he hoped to bring back news one way or the other. The idea of the contents of the box haunted me. In fact, it divided my mind with thoughts of my Amy. I held long councils with Bob, who always agreed with me in everything, but made no suggestions from himself. It was in the toolhouse in the garden, and he was standing on his head when I said to him the words with which I commenced the story. Suppose, Bob, we forced the lock. Suppose we do, said Bob, from his inverted position on the floor. Father has gone to London, I remarked. Yes, answered Bob, walking on his hands through the door into the garden. Then there is Martha. Blow, Martha, said Bob, doing hand springs right along the gravel path. Bob, I shouted after him. Yes, he replied on his head again and clapping his feet together. If without any personal inconvenience you could manage to stand upon your feet like a Christian, we might discuss this subject like intellectual beings. Bob's body went down full length on the gravel with a whack, and then he threw himself upon his feet after the manner of Senor Antonio Diavolini. Suppose we forced the lock, and see what's inside? That follows as a matter of course. Bob crowed like a cock, fluttered his elbows and said, Martha, I grasped his arm and whispered in his ear. Tonight, when she is asleep, the household wrapped in slumber. Right you are, he interrupted, and immediately threw hand springs in the direction of the toolhouse. He was enough to provoke a saint. Where are you going, I shouted? Chisel, he replied, and vanished from my sight. End of section 1 Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Wayne Cook The Bunch of Keys The Ring By T. W. Robertson Chapter 2 Concerning the Contents of the Big Black Box Bob, at my direction, secreted some Lucifers, wrapped them in a piece of paper, and put them in his pocket. He also procured about four inches of candle, which he kept in the crown of his cup. Martha remarked that evening that we seemed in an unusual hurry to get to bed. At half-past eight, she tucked us up, kissed us, and wished us good night, and took our light away. Little did she think of the project that was afoot. Steve, said Bob, when we are alone in the dark, when Martha kissed us, I didn't like to think of what we were going to do. Why not? I asked. It seemed so sneakish. Are you afraid? I confess I began to feel a bit nervous myself. No, I'm not afraid, but I hate to know anything that everybody else doesn't know. Bob was very stupid. We didn't play that night at Wild Horse of the Prairies, our constant custom before going to sleep, but lay watching and watching and waiting and waiting for Martha and Jane and John Simpson to go to bed. John Simpson was a labourer who always slept in the house when father was away. Oh, that night! How long every minute seemed, and how I thought of the big black box standing in the spare bedroom. I grew almost frightened, for I imagined that when we opened it we might find a dead body or the spirit of the tall, pale gentleman to whom in life it had belonged. Or if a dreadful head should raise up and say, Is it time? As in the oil jar and the forty thieves. I almost repented our project and wished we had never undertaken it, but then we had the four inches of candle, the crucifers and the chisel. And of what good were those implements unless we used them? Bob was soon fast asleep, snoring like a corn-crate. At last I heard them go to bed. Jane first, then John Simpson, Martha last, and then followed another, tedious, wretched time. I calculated that it would take them one hour to go fast asleep. The hour or longer, I know not, passed, and I made an attempt to wake Bob. I might as well have striven to move Thropecraft Church. He turned and blunged and kicked till at last I was forced to resort to a wet towel across his eyes. He woke. What's up? he asked. The box. All right, he said, and got out of bed immediately. Crash, smash, went the water jug which I had placed by the bedside to cold pig Master Bob with. We both jumped into bed again and closed our eyes tightly as if in the profoundest slumber. What a fool you are! I whispered under the bed clothes. What did you put the water jug in the way for? He replied. Did you upset it? Yes. Didn't you hear trickling? Get up and wipe it, I said, or it'll run through into the ceiling below. Bob seized his shirt and the piece of carpet by a bedside and the drip, drip of the water ceased. The noise had not aroused anybody so we slipped across the room to our door, every board creaking as if asking Martha to come down and catch us. We got out into the passage. The spare bedroom was on the same floor so that we soon reached it. The key was in the lock as usual but it was so tight that I could not turn it. Let me try! whispered Bob. And he turned it in a moment and we stood in the spare bedroom. Where's the Lucifer's? I asked. Haven't you got them? No. Haven't you? I thought you had them in your pocket. I haven't a pocket in my nature, have I? said that gag-gravating Bob. Haven't you bought the bit of candle, either, I inquired? No. Where are they? In our room. Why didn't you bring them with you? I forgot. He had no forethought. I'll go fetch him, he said. I did not like to be left in the spare bedroom alone so I went and returned with him armed with the candle, mattress, and chisel. We closed the door. Now, ladies and gentlemen, said Bob, who was for frivolous to and even at that eventful moment, just are going to begin. And we lit the candle. And there was the big black box in its accustomed corner. The strap buckled glistening in the light as if daring us to unfasten it. The spare bed loomed white upon us like a ghost. And every hole in the embroidery above its watchful fringe seemed like an eye upon us. I felt cold all over, particularly at the feet. Now, Steve, go it, said Bob. Bob, as he just said, let's toss up for it. For what? To see who is to do it. To what? Open the it, I mean. We haven't got any corpus. Then let's pull hairs for it. And we each pulled a hair out of our heads, an invention of mine which we always adopted when straws and grass were not available. Bob, having pulled out the shorter hair, lost. I held the candle while he unbuckled the strap as cool as an osler. Mind you don't make a noise, I whispered. Bob took the chisel. I shut my eyes tight, heard a slat sound. All right, from Bob. And the deed was done. The box was open. A newspaper was spread upon the top of the contents. We pulled it aside, and the first thing we saw were three swords. One long, thin one with a dark blue steel handle and mountings. One broader one with a white handle and a cold cross hilt. A short broadsword in a red-gold scabbard which I knew it once to be of the sword used by the ancient Romans. Confound them. Hurrah! shouted Bob in a whisper as we each drew a weapon and waved it over our heads. Think of finding three swords, not one but three. Robinson Crusoe was not more delighted when he discovered the bell of gunpowder on the rack. We continued our search. The next thing we took out was a lot of garments tied up together in a sort of towel. We opened the packet and found a tiger skin, a white shirt with gold fringe at the ends, no arms but brass ornaments all over it, a pink undershirt and long stockings coming up to the waist. Three or four gold chains, a pair of sandals, ancient Romans, a bird of paradise cut in half and a book of the play of Pizarro or the Spaniards in Peru by Brinsley Sheridan. We next found a beautiful Turkish dress which we afterwards were told was the dress of Othello, the Moor of Venice dress for Macbeth and a dress for the Crookedback tyrant Richard III and Hamlet's dress, all black and hot to match exactly like the feathers on a hurris and a dagger and several other things needless to mention besides a lot of playbooks and half an old letter. In the letter it said, My dear sir, I agree to your terms and we will, if it will suit you, commence on the 17th which will give us Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday for Coventry, Thursday and Friday for Worcester thus leaving the Saturday for you at Birmingham if you can so arrange it with regard to and the letter said no more. Barb and I each put on a hat and feathers, drew a sword and danced with joy until we were out of breath. We then fought a combat carefully avoiding hitting the swords together for fear of making a noise. I looked to the candle which we had placed in the fireplace and saw that there was no more than an inch left. We hastily returned our new found treasures all but the swords and the dagger those we would not part with to the box and after a difficulty for we could not pack well the lid down and the strap buckled tightly over it. The hasp of the lot, though broken looked all right and with a sword on each shoulder and the dagger in my teeth like a Robinson Crusoe with his two guns I crept back to bed followed by Barb. End of Section 2 Section 3 of a bunch of keys where they were found and what they might have unlocked in the Christmas book edited by Tom Hood. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Wayne Cook. The Bunch of Keys The Ring by Thomas W. Robertson Chapter 3 Concerning the Adventures of The Big Black Box Let Us The next few days we employed in secretly carrying the chief parts of our treasures to the cave. The cave had formally been a cow shed. In fact it was an abandoned and deserted cow shed. We, Captain O'Cow, but were supplied by John Simpsons Brindle and it was in the cave that we smoked bits of cane and prepared merry devils for the 5th of November. We had splendid days in the cave with our swords and our new dresses. Bob used to be McDuff and I Macbeth. I was King Richard and Bob the Earl of Richmond. Hamlet and Shylock were never cared about. I used to like to play the Tyrant and to Die. At the same time I always wished to be the Conqueror too. If I could I would have been both Victor and Vanquished. What the Reverend Duhurst has since told me is a fairly tragic dramatic aspiration. At last tired of taking it from books I invented a new play out of my own head. The idea came upon me all at once without thinking. Thoughts always do come upon me in that way which is indeed the distinguishing difference between me and Bob who never has ideas but who is a very good fellow and always ready to follow what superior intellect may lead. My new idea was to act the savage and his keeper. Bob being stupid to be the savage and I being intellectual, the keeper. I dressed up Bob in the white Turkish trousers, tucking them up to make them short enough in the white shirt with the gold fringes the tiger skin over his shoulders and birds of paradise which were struck into a gold band upon his head. Thus attired, Bob used to tumble and knock himself about as we had seen the wild Indian at Thorkcraft's feast. Bob had a large chain round his neck which I held at one end and armed with a whip with which I frequently threatened and sometimes used upon him often saying, back sir ah, dare you made him crouch and go through his performance. It was ten nights after opening the box and Bob and I were in bed Bob fast asleep grasping the trusty dagger which I ever kept beneath my midnight pillow when another thought flashed across me. I immediately nudged Bob who, selfish fellow was a long time before he would wake sufficiently to understand me and said to him Bob, suppose we were to run away for a week or fortnight and get money as the men did at the feast by being wild Indian and keeper. But I soon made him here and understand to the best of his capacity we should get plenty of money said I see life in the country enjoy adventures and get back home again before father returns from London eh, brave alozando de Molina what says thou tell me in the morning muttered my unworthy brother and went to sleep again the next day I talked him over and we discussed, that is I talked and he listened the plan of the campaign I forgot to mention that I had an excellent voice and was a first rate sentimental singer and reciter and as I said between my songs and recitations and his wild Indian we could not want we scraped together four in ninepence and cash Bob conveyed my best suit to the cave after when Martha, John Simpson and Jane had gone to bed we slipped the lock of our front door it was a cold bright green moonlit night and ran to the cave I tired ourselves and the world was before us we walked all night across country in order to get as far away as we could from Martha and Thorpecroft we were both in high spirits having a bottle of beer again with untutored mind carried in a sling about ten o'clock the next morning being both very hungry I went into a village I have not the slightest notion where it was and bought at a shop where they seemed to sell everything a loaf of bread a pound of cheese and a half pound of salt I then went to the public house it was the sign of the plow and bought a pint and a half of beer and asked me questions but I was too much for them I had not read the Anirabian Nights for nothing and when I returned to Bob whom I had left in a hollow tree like Olsen I found him crying I reproached him with his unmanliness and consoled him with the bread and cheese which we were so greedy as to eat all up after a repast we went to sleep in each other's arms we always used to lie back to back at home I don't know how long we slept but when we awoke it was still daylight we were hungry again and quarreled about the bread and cheese we had eaten before we slept we walked for three hours still cross country and we saw the smoke from the chimneys of another village or town it was quite dark when we reached it I bought some more bread and cheese at a little shop and then I found we had only two shillings and a heap and he left so when Bob had refreshed himself I said to him it was high time we should begin to exhibit I pulled the chain out of Bob's pocket he had on his own trousers under the Turkish ones and fastened him up from a field we scrambled through a hedge and dropped down into a main road passed through a turnpike and went downhill towards the town a stream of light came from the open door of a public house and I heard the men talking within now Bob I said now was the time remember to growl and snatch when I pulled at the chain I walked boldly and leaving Bob outside and I found from a dozen to twenty men seated on a settle round a large fireplace smoking and drinking they were all talking but when they saw me they laid off gentlemen said I they were very common men navigators or something of that sort but I said gentlemen to please them would you like to see the wild Indian which I have just brought from Liverpool? three or four of them said what lad? and I repeated my question what wild Indian? asked one very big man whom the others called Joe the men grinned and said oh lie, lad bring him in I went out cracked my whip and led Bobby in by the chain this is the wild Indian gentlemen I said he is one of the tribe of Delaware and he answers to the name of Uncus he was a chieftain in his own tribe and was known upon the war trail as the Artful Panther Baxar I had raised my whip for Uncus the Artful Panther of the tribe of Delaware advanced towards me grinning with cannibalical intent a skilful cut of the whip upon the shoulders where it didn't hurt subdued him and he shrank back dismayed the men laughed loudly the landlady a very stout woman and a servant a trifle stouter came in lad, bless the boys said the landlady can you do what else? if it is your pleasure madam I said for I saw the glibness of my tongue had struck her I will make him come through his performance come sir, come the Artful Panther and again showed signs of disobedience but I was not to be trifled with and beat him having brought him to reason he stood upon his head tumbled through handsprings picked up his sixpence with his mouth and finished by throwing himself in a posture of humility at the feet of the master facefully at him with his whip suspected his laugh and applauded gave us both beer and the man they called for asked me if the indian wasn't a very wilden a very wilden deed sir I replied you must have had a deal of trouble to time him continued he a very great deal sir he's only disfresh cut at which there was another laugh what do you say his name was Joe Uncle saw the Artful Panther Artful Panther said the landlady and the men laughed again you didn't learn to talk as you talk among the indian I expect said Joe no sir I answered and how is it my pretty boy as you are a gone about the country this how with your indian asked the landlady expects the on the road mother said a light haired blue eyed young man on the road a not built castle though there where there no business to be said the woman who's your father and mother in me by I have no mother said I take a drop more beer said the joy Joe and the indian too if I be such a wild bird thank you sir I never allow him to drink beer it might fly to his blood at which there was another row of laughter and where's your father asked the landlady I answered it's far far away got missus doubtless the land more questions it's no business of yarn said the woman's husband say lad can you do what else the indian unkus said I has concluded his performance but ladies and gentlemen with your kind permission I will sing you a sentimental song the proposal was received with great favor and unkus or bob being accommodated with a corner to crouch in and a bone of shoulder of mutton for the gratification of his ferocious native instincts I sang Isabel it was one of my best musical performances I was loudly applauded and the young man Bill Gastlow laid his head upon the wooden table before him and sobbed audibly his mates told him to cheer up and the servant girl whispered to me that Bill sweetheart had flew false to him and gone off with the recruiting sergeant and from the servant girl's look and manner I thought that she felt she would like to console Bill Gastlow I sang more songs and at last the giant Joe said now mates these here buyers can't do this for nothing they are living to God to well as us so I shall go round with the act and recollect as they've done all their work and there ain't no sub a collection was made and the sum of three shillings and fourpence all in coppers was handed to us mother said big Joe to the landlady I'm going down to the checkers to see Jim Crosby and I'll type these two buyers with me perhaps they'll make a trifle more there now turning to me will you swear your affidavit that as there's a wild engine and urine won't hurt me I swear that he doesn't hurt you sir I said grasping my whip you'll be responsible for me said Joe for I've a wife and family and if it kills an ace me well become of them so Joe took us to the checkers which was a larger public house than the one we had left and full of navigators and their wives and sweethearts and Orcas performed again and I sang several songs and tenpence and we went to bed thoroughly tired in a little bedroom which the landlady at Joe's request led to us we slept till four o'clock in the afternoon of the next day and took our breakfast at the same time that the landlord and landlady took their tea before we left I asked the landlady what we owed her and she said a shilling sixpence for our suppers and sixpence for our breakfast then there's the bed said I that was her reply we don't charge little boys like you for beds I mentioned this to Orcas or Bob and asked him whether he did not think it rather rude of her no said Bob I think it was very kind I pointed out to him that we had plenty of money to pay with but he only answered by proposing toffee at a sweet stuff shop but it reminded him that an Indian chieftain should not think of toffee or the flesh of an opossum with the skin torn off its back with the mildest refreshment he could think of oh brother answered Bob I dare say Indian chieftains eat sweet stuff when they're young fast enough we were now when the gaslighted streets and the crowd soon gathered round us I secured Bob by his chain and made in the direction of what had been pointed out to me for the crown and anchor the commercial and family hotel I asked to be allowed to exhibit in the parlor but a very proud young lady behind a glass bar would not hear of it and a waiter, a tall, insolent beast pushed me from the door and threatened to send for a constable I felt they could have killed him for the little boys about yelled and hooted us my spirits were low for the whole evening we exhibited in two very humble public houses but we made only two shillings altogether we got to bed we got to bed at a washerwomen's and slept in the same room with her mangle and the mangle seemed to fascinate the Indian Bob who would insist on getting out of bed to turn it I explained to the woman that this being the first civilized mechanical contrivance he had seen connected with the washing of linen his curiosity was natural I could not help smarting under the humiliation and outrage we had suffered from that brute of a waiter and indeed during the whole of our adventures it was singular that whenever we went into a big hotel frequented by tradesmen we were already scouted or treated uncivally whereas at a road-sized public house where laborers and those sorts of people were drinking we were welcomed and rewarded after this manner several days passed away and we heard nothing of any offer at pursuit either by Martha or by the Reverend Dewhurst twice we were questioned by rural policemen with swords by their sides as to who we were but the answers I gave were considered satisfactory I always said I was an orphan and the Bob was an Indian boy the property of my late father who had long lived in America and the sole remains of the wreck of our former fortunes the weather grew very cold and the snow came down in large flakes the cold was a particular sort of cold too it wasn't in the snow but in the wind no matter how fast we walked the red stuff Bob had upon his face and arms the same stuff used by the ploughmen on Plough Monday never came off from perspiration we got enough money just to live upon but we never did so well as on the first day we discovered that cold boiled bacon was a better investment than cheese we stopped one whole day in one place to get Bob's rollers shirt and Othello's Turkish trousers washed there was great fun made by the women about washing the gold fringe which never looked well afterwards we reached a little village which was all excitement on account of the holding of a county court and a great case between the parish clock and a Quaker about the non-payment of a summer of six months yearly which the Quaker would not pay because it went against his conscience to go without it nobody would listen to us and we went away sadly with only temptants left in our pockets we were told of another village five miles off but the country all about was white and we missed our way trying for a shortcut the snow came down furiously and the wind cut us like a knife we wandered and wandered about till sundown then till dark and we began to cry bitterly for I thought of Helm and Martha and Mrs. Dewhurst and Amy and I reproached Bob in his nasty ugly white dress in his brown face for having persuaded me to run away from them at last we saw light and made for it we found a large farmhouse all by itself with stone posts and chains before it and at the gate stood an elderly man without a handkerchief round his neck and no hat on he had a very red face and wild eyes and he was talking loudly to himself we asked him if he would witness our performance but he swore at his terribly said we were a couple of young vagrants who wanted to set fire to his stacks and that he would set his dogs on us and worry us and he went away and we heard the clanking of chains and the barking of six large dogs and we ran as hard as our legs could carry us we paused at last went out of hearing of the dogs and looked around we could hardly see a yard before us for the drifting snow and the wind howled about us madly we plotted on our feet sinking deep at every step Bob walked first and I trod in the footprints he made there was an odd cold fresh smell in the air blown upon a sword of heath going up a hill and the wind grew colder and colder our feet began to freeze and our limbs to grow numb I ceased to weep and Bob kept turning his head back and saying as well as he could through the mouthfuls of snow that if we kept walking we must come out somewhere the cold grew more and more intense as we toiled on and Bob in his white dress seemed to mingle with the falling flakes when suddenly I heard a sharp cry and he sank from my sight I threw myself flat upon my face Bob had perished my gallant generous noble brother was no more and by my act but for my persuasions he would never have started on this despicable adventure and could never have fallen into the ravine where he lie stiff and dead all the supreme bitterness of those moments oh the agony is a self-reproach oh my dear dear home my kind father and the do-hursts why did I leave you why did I ever open the big black box in the smear bedroom why had I ever been born all of these thoughts rushed through my aching brain as I slay sobbing the snow falling over and covering me like a shroud the wind swooped and howled with a savage triumph of a fiend and such was the disordered state of my intellect that I thought it raw to my name Steve I felt I could contend with no more but you'd die upon that frozen bed again the wind howled Steve no not the wind, Bob it was Bob's voice I was on my feet in an instant I placed my hands before my mouth trumpet-wise and rolled out Bob his voice coming from where I could not guess thought sounded as from a deep well answered Steve where this way forward alright down here he was alive, Bob was alive I crept forward slowly on my face swimming as it were in the thick snow Bob's voice guided me and I found it on until I felt myself at the edge of a sort of hill or precipice I cleared the snow from my mouth and shouted here I am answered Bob where down here come on it's quite warm it isn't far hurt yourself, not much broken anything yes what a bottle no a few bruises it's jolly warm down here wait till I light a match you'll see by the light of the Lucifer I saw Bob's white face for it had been completely washed by the snow six feet below me stop till I light the candle said Bob we always carried a candle in Lucifer's then you can come and see to drop the wind will blow it out I cast there's no wind down here it's sheltered now the candle was lighted and I dropped down into the ravine I say ravine because I didn't know what else to call it it seemed as if the earth had cracked and a sort of hole or cavern had been formed there was only a space a foot wide above our heads snow had drifted to the left of us and on the right was earth and brushwood the top of the bank arched over so that it was more like being in an underground mud cavern or instead than anything else the intense and immediate comfort was the warmth the absence of wind and our cheeks and hands tingled with the pricks of pins and needles Steve said Bob what let's light a fire before we do that Bob I answered we'll do something else what say a prayer and we knelt down and said the evening prayer taught us by Mr. Dohurst and a return thanks for the deliverance my dear brother from a terrible death Bob then limped to the brushwood hacked it down with a short Roman sword and kindled the fire the smoke was rather terrorism but the heat was most grateful and we ate the remains of our provisions a quarter in loaf and a very small piece of bacon with an intense relish as for drink as Bob said there was snowballs enough for a large family we then threw on more brushwood using the Roman sword as a poker and went to sleep the tiger skin serving for a quilt I walked before Bob how fire was out I looked upward and saw a strip of sky over the roof of our cave the snow had ceased to fall with steel dark resolved to look out so drawing that most useful of weapons as Roman sword from the fire I stuck it into the sides of the cave and then standing upon it eased out upon the track we had traveled nothing was to be seen but a flat surface of snow pure white and unsullied as freshly washed linen I detected a strange noise too which was not the wind but more like the slapping flopping stealing rush of water with some difficulty I turned myself around still standing on the iron hilt of the sword I looked up and saw a huge white ghost a mile high in the sky it glared angrily at me with an eye or mouth or both emitting a red blinding awful flame I suppressed a shriek and fell senseless End of Chapter 3 Section 4 of a bunch of keys where they were found and what they might have unlocked a Christmas book edited by Tom Hood this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Zarina Silverman Los Angeles, California the bunch of keys the ring by T.W. Robertson Chapter 4 concerning the ghost and how we went inside it when I recovered consciousness it was daylight and Bob was standing over me stuffing snowballs in my mouth and scrubbing my temples that's right Steve said Bob I was frightened to death on a found I couldn't rouse you have a bit of bread and a snowball it's all there is for breakfast it's left off snowing and weave the day before us to find out where we are I took a crust and told Bob of the ghost what? cried Bob his eyes and his mouth rounding like saucers a mile high or more I continued with red fire flashing from his eyes and a white cloak drawn over its head and shoulders Bob immediately divested himself of his Rola's shirt and Turkish trousers I'll wear these things and paint my face no more said he I think I have mentioned that he had his own clothes underneath his costume now Steve give us a hoist and I'll reconnoitre ghosts ain't allowed to come out by daylight and if this one does defies his flame at me I'll say a prayer and defy the devil and all his works Bob who had an invincible spirit was soon out at the top of our cave and he shouted Steve I I see the ghost and he laughed do you? yes it is a lighthouse a what? a lighthouse don't you remember that picture we had in the tales of the sea this one is exactly like it Bob who had been seated on the edge of the roof of our cave rose to his feet and shouted Steve what? we're at sea I scrambled up and Bob lifted me to my feet to the left I saw the monster that had so frightened me the night before it was as he said a lighthouse the crown over its lantern capped with snow and its sides white with the drift the wind took away my breath I looked forward and I saw the ocean tossing and rolling towards us a ship with a white sail in the distance I had never before seen the sea and I fell Bob again applied his infallible snowball remedy and brought me to I found that we were on a cliff on the rock opposite detached from the mainland by a narrow stream stood the lighthouse had Bob not fallen into the gully in which we had passed the night we should have walked to the extreme verge of the cliff and blinded by the snow been precipitated into the boiling sea below no Steve said Bob we should have been saved by those who put the lighthouse there to mark the track no Bob we were saved by him who gave men mind and strength to build the lighthouse a voice was born upon the wind which roared out in tones of thunder the figure of a man stood at the door of the lighthouse smoking a pipe he motioned to us to descend the cliffs and we immediately obeyed him he descended some steps cut in the rock got into a boat and pushed himself down the stream he was an elderly man in a blue worsted shirt and yellow fustian trousers made short in the legs but uncommonly full behind he said who are you told him the whole truth for the events of the past night had been a warning to us you are a couple of beauties you are said the man young drunkesses and your father and mother in a nice way about you we explained that we had no mother well your father then I ought to know jump in and I'll give you some breakfast you look half starved then you must write to your father if you don't I'll give you up to the coast guard that's cold we got into the boat crossed the little river and ascended the rocky steps into the lighthouse it was a strange place that lighthouse with little staircases at the sides and two round chambers a living room and a room to sleep in one above the other and the light chamber above all the light was a revolving one all the furniture was very neat and stowed away in perfect order there were a great many brass hooks and everything looked as clean as if it had been just washed and stowed away or as if it were on the point of going on a long journey and space was a great consideration the man gave us some coffee and bread and a herring we fell too in eight heartily though the wind was roaring into the sea lashing outside as if they wanted to get in at us I'm one of the light keepers the man said my mate's married and out on a holiday to spend the Christmas with his wife I'm a widower I am been a widower these ten years so I'm all alone here if I were your father I should give you a taste of two inch Bob and I buried our noses in our cups I know what it is to lose Barons I had a boy just such a lad as you and he looked at Bob he was drowned in a smack eight year sin and I only lost my little patience last October I saw that he had a bit of black crepe round his arm and felt surprised that a man with trousers made so large behind could have so much feeling he seemed to like to talk I suppose that being so much alone he was pleased with company I shall show you his gravestone my boys I mean tomorrow when we go to church when we had finished breakfast he made us wash up the cups which I thought rather a liberty then he turned Bob out and made me right to my father we were and how sorry we felt then he turned me out and made Bob read him the letter I had written we remained the whole of that day in the lighthouse and watched the cleaning and trimming of the lamp and the next day being a fair bright breezy Sunday he took us to a squat little church built upon a high cliff with a union jack flying from its tower the congregation was composed of coast guardsmen and fishermen and sailors and their families the men and even the women and the children looked very clean and red and salt and as it were stowed away like the furniture in the lighthouse even the pulpit which in my mind was always associated with the reverend Dewhurst was occupied by an old gentleman with a high square nose like a cliff and a pair of light blue eyes the color of sea water we, that is Bob and I attracted considerable notice and when the service was over the gentleman inquired who we were as indeed did all the congregation the light keeper showed us the grave of his wife and son and pointed to the inscription with his prayer book the names on the stone were patience and John Samuel Strongetham and I read that the boy was drowned when he was aged fifteen yes fifteen fifteen said the light keeper looking at Bob there seems somehow nothing right and a man has lost his son at sea keeping a light to save so many vessels to and from the nerd don't there I looked round but the man's eyes and thoughts were quick and followed me I ate a going to have no stone put up for my gal for the next ten months he said I ventured to ask why not 10 regular what did she die of sir eggy said it wasn't but it was eggy the light keeper Mr. Strongetham took us to dine with a friend of his at the station a row of cottages with a flagstaff and vein before them with a coast guardsman the officers who capture the bold smugglers of the ocean are quartered and which like the church was on top of a cliff it seemed to be considered the genteel thing to live upon the top of the cliff in order I suppose to be near the wind the friend we dined with was we were told the first boatman or chief boatman, I forget which and he wore a gold anchor on his sleeve I had often read in plays of first officer, first lord, etc. and this man, Saunders by name really was a first boatman though he by no means realized my expectations almost immediately after dinner Mr. Strongetham took us back to the lighthouse and set about his work polishing and cleaning he then gave us some tea and made Bob and I alternately read chapters from the Bible I always sit over my Bible of a Sunday night he said, my little patience used to read it to me and though I can't read it myself being no scullard, I like to look over it I was about to speak when the old man took me up hastily you're too quick youngster ever so much too quick your quickness will bring me into trouble I know what you're thinking on I could read the gravestone because I've been so often told what letters was cut on it I can't read print though I sit over my Bible all the same soon after this he sent us to bed the next morning when we looked from the landward window at the side of our chamber we hardly knew where we were but thought the lighthouse had drifted out to sea and been cast upon some unknown coast the snow had cleared away and the walls of the cliffs and the country inland were of a bright green regular strong-thaw remarked Mr. Strongatharm the fish must be waiting to be catched out to such a frost can you buy his net we replied that if he met fish with a net we were proficient in the sport as it was a favourite one with us at home aye aye I'll go with you to make the first cast then it'll go down into the town Mr. Strongatharm always spoke of the town a village containing a population of 60 souls 2 shops and about 8 houses as if it were a thronged metropolis and bring you by some soft-tack do you know what soft-tack is? he asked me no, dare in me such a fine scullard as you not to know that who I thought you had known everything we left the lighthouse together Bob and I carrying the net after the first cast into a small freshwater stream not very successful Mr. Strongatharm said no you guys won't run away oh no sir if you do I'll set the coast guard out to you for sure but you won't will you honour then mind you catch a good lot and we'll send some to Mrs. Sanders there shan't be more than two hours gone left to ourselves we threw our net and splashed with the pole to very little purpose we only caught a few small roach and dace we went higher up the stream but with no better luck and so more than an hour passed and we thought of giving it up one more throw, suggested Bob and we threw in the net again as we were hauling it in I saw something on the opposite bank that so shook my nerves that my foot slipped and I fell into the water I saw the old man whom we had seen standing at the gate of the large farmhouse with stone-posts and chains before it he was without his hat and had no handkerchief and was talking loudly to himself and gesticulating violently the expression of his eyes was horribly wild he did not see us we watched him run by the side of the bank and leap a ditch with great agility then he turned round and looked at the water and swore awfully and then ran on again and so out of sight all this time I was up to my waist in the water Bob soon had me out and I stood shivering with cold Bob offered to change trousers with me but I would not accept his kindness let's take the net in said Bob and by that time perhaps Mr. Strongthalm will be back we found that we had caught six or seven small perch and one large bream not worth the trouble I remarked Steve said Bob yes, there is something else in the net, yes what? a bunch of keys I looked down and saw that a bunch of keys had somehow or other got into the net and entangled itself in its meshes by means of the wards of the keys it was not at all an extraordinary bunch of keys there was a large ring with four keys hung upon it and there was a smaller ring with three small keys fastened on it the small ring was attached to the larger or outer ring but the three small keys upon the smaller ring had no connection with the large keys on the large ring well, guys, what, Spart? said the voice of Mr. Strongthalm we showed him what we had caught and he puzzled over the bunch of keys and looked at them with his broad brown hand shading his eyes as if they were distant objects say, fishing boats in the offing they're quite bright, I remarked they can't have been long in the water however you must be getting into bed, youngster you'll always be in trouble, you will you're so sharp, so trudge, homeward when we had gained the lighthouse Mr. Strongthalm ordered me into his own bed in the upper chamber and gave me a glass of hot rum and water with a large piece of salt butter the salt sort of butter that could be churned from the milk of sea cows I told him of the old man we had seen and where we found him on the night that we were lost ah, said Mr. Strongthalm that was old Tillson he's mad, he was drove so by raised horses and drink he used to breed raised horses when they used to win, he used to drink to drown himself for joy when they used to lose, he used to drink to drown himself for aggravation he's a bad old lot he used to thrash his grooms when he was savage and after his wife, she was a real lady a real gentleman's daughter ran away from him he beat a stable boy that cruel that he killed him and old Tillson was tried for it at the sizes I wonder if the old rascal threw the keys into the stream this set me thinking had old Tillson thrown away the keys after committing a murder I looked for a blood stain on the bunch but there was none was he tried for murder I inquired manslaughter Spaderall got him off give me the keys, if anything turns up about them they'll be found here he hung them on to the end of a rope coiled round a hook immediately opposite to the bed now you go to sleep your brother must not sleep were you there if you catch a egg he might catch it too we must make shift with him below so turn to the wall and have a caulk so good, no, not good night good day the keys never mind them perhaps there are the keys as open Stevie Jones's locker or perhaps there are the keys as locks of little boys' mouths so go to sleep and don't think no more on them but I could not help thinking more of them though I went to sleep immediately I awoke in two or three hours it was night and something before my eyes shone white like silver it was the bunch of keys on the end of the rope bathed in the moonlight which streamed in from the little window at the side of the chamber they seemed to glare at me with an intense brilliance as if the inside of their handles were eyes and saw me then again they looked like fish in the dark, bright, molten and scaly then they were murderers hanging at Newgate they quite frightened me perhaps it was the effect of my romantic and fervid temperament perhaps it was the rum and water I fixed my eyes upon them till they seemed to illuminate the wall they fascinated me the wind seemed to be whistling through them I thought of Bluebeard Fatima the barren Trennic and the castle of a Toronto I didn't know how long I lay looking at them but what was the wind outside the feeling that I was both at sea and on land that I was sleeping in the middle of a long chimney with water where the fireplace should be and flames at the top that I was fixed in a burning lantern like the man in the moon at last I began to fancy that the keys were alive and walked and talked and had thoughts and feelings as I had that they made love and promised things and broke their promises and were asked and given in marriage fought duels, went to law quarreled with each other and made it up again loaded guns and went out fishing till I suppose I fell asleep and dreamt dreams something like the stories that here follow LibriVox.org Recording by Wayne Cook The Key of the Piano Part 1 by T. Archer Franz Wilhelm and myself were school fellows and fast friends when we were both boys learning our lessons with old Father Schmidt to Tytelberg Had we become Brutchen at the University Institute have called him Buddha for he was dear to me than were my own kindred then my elder brother at Frankfurt who when my mother died sent me to be brought up by my father's sister or then my third half cousin Anna whom he married and who such is destiny disliked my remaining and the houseless people should imagine that I was her child she being of greater age than Carl and accustomed to the well-ruling of her household my father's sister who in much kindness undertook me was a spinster and in the uphill street of the town kept a little shop for the sale of spectacles and wood carvings to the English and other visitors so that she was of some consideration and lived so quietly that for her intimacy with the wife of Master Schwartz foreman at the leather factory musician and mender of organs I should have known no companions at home Master Schwartz and his wife were quiet folks with only one daughter little Mina who when I first saw her looked so pretty in her red skirt and tiny white cap felt at the moment a love-inspiring admiration which had it not been that I myself was but an infant would have thrust a fatal barrier between Franz and me Franz however had not then arrived but came soon afterwards in charge of an old nurse who having cared for him from the time of his birth and being now on her way to end her days with her relatives was commissioned to leave him henceforth with Madame Schwartz who had been own servant companion to his grandmother for the mother of Franz was daughter of a hair sub-deputy but who was her husband or whether she had been married nobody knew of Madame Schwartz did not and she certainly never mentioned it to her dying day the poor mother was now dead and the wife of the sub-deputy and it was at the instance of the sub-deputy himself that the little fellow who had a small annual sum settled on him was confided to master Schwartz and became foster brother to Mina the curious thing was that as these two children grew there was a strong resemblance between them so that they might have passed for brother and sister by blood and by mind-growth which as some have said will control the features of the face into outward likeness by the force of inward sympathy however this may be they were the same in the color of hair and eye which in both were dark and in that long visage and more prominent featuring that belonged scarcely to the German type of most common and of which I myself am an example it was perhaps the contrast between us which drew Franz and me into close fellowship for it is by contrasts that we are attracted and by the hope of finding in the mind and temper of another that which is wanting in our own our earliest affections are made lasting my first child liking for Mina Franz and he became my brother as she became his sister so when he was to study music I also entreated of my brother Carl through a letter that I might be a musician and had indeed already learned of one of the band who played in the gardens on the hill to blow the instrument of which I am now a professor they were quiet happy days when we used to go up to those gardens after school and sit under the trees looking down upon the broad silver band of the necker flowing through the light green fields all found over there from the donkey boys and the beggars to the Wschwunnen or the wooded hill where the yoked oxen toiled up the steep and the great dogs of the farmers follow the team themselves looking like the wolves which are there no longer this quiet life of study and friendship was soon to end or rather to change as must all the events of this mortal life for Franz was grown into a youth and Mina had butted into a grey, sweet dark-eyed maiden still with that wonderful resemblance to her foster brother which though not always apparent made itself known by a sudden turn of expression a moment's glance through the eye or a quick movement of the head Franz was, as I have said dark and with deep brown clustering hair in his shape too he was small and delicate unlike me who then began to grow of the figure that belongs to many of our nation and with the fair face and yellow hair that might be seen any day that makes the brushen at the Hirschgasse in mental as well as physical qualities that Franz differ from many of our countrymen since he lacked that calm which is sometimes mistaken for stodality by those who do not understand composure and a quiet self-sustenation that accepts all things as of course it is the want of this which renders your English manners restless and easy and affected for the Englishman is ever haunted by the fear of being ridiculous and in terror of seeming foolish seldom either wise or dignified and outer bearing while we Germans are either too self-satisfied or too self-oblivious to be conscious of what to others may seem to be absurdity in our common actions and gravely commit with simplicity little acts of personal folly to be detected in which an Englishman would redden and almost die for shame and consequence of his exaggerated self-importance something of this was I fear in the nature of Franz who was ever sensitive to anything affecting his individuality and united to this was the kind of ability which he exhibited in acquiring any sort of knowledge up to the point of display and then leaving it for some fresh theme I have said that he had genius however which gift was not to me awarded at my birth though I succeeded by application in attaining many things and at length in becoming a professor of the art which I adopted genius however will go far in music and especially with the piano which was the instrument to which my friend devoted himself first under the instruction of Master Schwartz and afterwards at the conservatoire at Ghent to which he had an introduction I must say in the all truthfulness which I desire to preserve that Franz was not a great musician no, nor even a great player but to him belong the fascination which made what he did original lifelike inspired and to this soul brilliancy he owed his success and the name which he was acquiring is a master of harmony when the events happened which I am now to relate as I have said I applied to my brother Carl for permission to adopt a profession and he consented that I should commence to study at the same time as Franz but in a year after that he came himself to Heidelberg and proposed that I should go back with him to Frankfurt where I might lodge near him and pursue my education under professor in that town until I was able to undertake engagements for my self support this I was willing to accomplish and embraces could I bring myself to part with my good aunt and especially with my brother and sister Franz and Mina to whom alas a great calamity was soon to happen in the death of master Schwartz who falling from a high ladder at the leather factory was so injured that he survived but five months this compelled madam and Mina to let their house and to take themselves to Ghent where a relative of the family and assistant secretary in the town council house had a brother the owner of a large hotel where madam and her daughter would be welcomely received as housekeeper manageresses the owner being widowed of a young wife not nine months before at Ghent also went Franz with them for at Ghent he could pursue his study of music and with a small annuity which still continued to be paid at the hotel until such time as he obtained pupils when he should be old enough or procured an engagement to control the piano at some assembly concert room arrived at Frankfurt I lived in an atmosphere of music for some time otherwise my existence would have been sufficiently monotonous for my brother's wife seldom asked me to her house when she entertained her acquaintances and though I had made companions two or three of my fellow students I was too poor to invite them often to my room and they in truth were generally too gay for me to hope to keep up with them in expenses none of these to the place in my regard which had always been held by Franz and the holidays of the year to which I looked forward with most heartfeltness were the visits that every winter I paid to my dear brother and sister and that which in the summer Franz managed to pay to me it was on one of these occasions when we had both begun to earn our own living by our art that he proposed to go to London where he had he said some expectation of obtaining a handsome engagement at a series of concerts the agent for which had visited him in Ghent and where he also believed that I could obtain better employment and ended in our making the journey together and in our being employed in the same orchestra he as an accompanist with an occasional solo I as one of the ordinary band in London so many opportunities open themselves that those who are proficient in their art find the means of ready occupation and to both of us fresh engagements for performance in public and for teaching were soon presented Franz as I have said before possessed a genius to which I could lay no claim and quickly he passed beyond me and became famous not only as a pianist but also as a teacher whose connection was growing daily the more extensive and high place his absence grieved me not since it caused no diminution of our friendship but the rather as I thought caused my brother to rely on my true feeling and sympathy and he told me of his successes with the simplicity of the old days when we were boys at Hartleburg sitting in the Hillgarten one anxiety was mine and it arose from my perception of the truth that Franz loved not his art so much for its own sake as for the fame and distinction which it might be made to bring him he seemed to me unaccountably to look beyond it to something further the real nature of which I could not then determine but which I afterwards learned was the delusion of his life those best acquainted with the members of the musical profession who are much occupied in teaching will know how often they are received with confidence in well placed and even distinguished families and how it becomes almost a matter unavoidable and is familiar with the daughters of the houses where they teach it is to me sorrowful to know that there are some who abuse this confidence and through the opportunity afforded them of unrestricted companionship under the softening influence of music use the intimate relation of teacher and pupil to mislead the young girls by false flattery and foolish coquettin which sometimes end in dishonorable passion this is detestable but it may be remembered too that there are among the young and well born ladies of this cold and conventional England some who secretly will escape from the restraint demanded by the society and who either unconscious of their own power or always vain of the influence wrought by their beauty and familiar disdainful concessions lure their admirers to the madness of believing themselves favored and then turn hotly away with pretended surprise I would have staked my life upon the honor of Franz Wilhelm and though we were now much separated and lived in different quarters of the town he near his fashionable pupils at the west end of London and I in a more modest lodging in the suburb we met frequently and with the same simple confidence as ever nevertheless I was struck with an indefinable feeling of dismay when one evening he came into my room flushed and excited and after we had smoked a cigar together from his breast a case containing the portrait of a lady it was a beautiful face but with nothing in it of softness a dark haughty aristocratic face with a smile upon its lips such as I love not to see and with a cruel downward look of the eyes shining beneath drooping lids despite my forebodings I effected to banter with him and said who has thou here, brother? is it a prima donna who has taken the captee with her singing and semiramide or art thou bringing forth a pupil to the profession who looks thus on the orchestra and keeps her tender glances for thee but he stayed me with a gesture almost fierce so hasty was it and showed me within the case at the back of the picture a little scented pink three-cornered note which he opened and placed in my hand it had evidently accompanied the portrait and was written in such words as women learned to write too early words which seemed to mean much and might mean nothing to fronds they might bear heaven knows what of feverish hope and ambitions unrest to me they were an index to the face that I had just looked upon a heartless amusement of a hearty woman who played with the love she laughed at for some time I could learn but little and sat looking painfully at my friend whose health always had been delicate to me it seemed effected either by long professional work or by some deep anxiety his flushed face grew paler and as he placed his hand upon my arm I could feel it tremble I could see how white and thin it had grown he was being consumed by some restless fever which would soon if it had not already become a serious disease when he at last came to speak of the writer of the note the original of the portrait I learned that she was one of his peoples the daughter of a wealthy English mister sir whose title had been bestowed upon him in consequence of his great affairs in the city and he would marry the daughter of a lord France wanted me that when he gave the first lesson on the piano to this proud and handsome miss he fell a sort of terror a pre-sage of what must come to him in love for her and that he set his mind to keep himself from trespass and look or word but she whose character was that of haughty contempt to her attendance and of cold indifference to many of the guests who came there to visit continually regarded him with meaning glances and glad smiles often she made the lesson longer and prevailed on him to stay and by a hundred tokens led him on to believe that she held him in her favor not in these terms did he to me relate the course she had pursued for he still cherished deep down in his heart the faith that she loved him too much to regard the cold rules of the world and lest he should fear to declare himself in him hope and courage not yet had he spoken to her of love except by illusion and by all those smallest familiarities which he permitted and which none but lovers or dear friends exercise he had kissed her hand and composed and written love songs for her to play had played them to her with her round white arm leaning on his shoulder as he sat at the piano and now in answer to her request so full of meaning that he feared it had sealed his fate I was doubtful of its boldness she had sent the picture and the letter that I saw but you yourself shall see her a meal he cried as I endeavored to reason with him prudently that haughty expression is not meant for me still it answered with a smile a soft and gracious as that of the angel in the old picture at Ghent which we have stood so many times to look at together it is useless to speak to me of prudence now prudence is vanquished by love let me tell you dear friend I am making money I could afford to marry even if she were poor how I wish she had not been born rich and yet no for then we should never have met I broke through this rhapsody by inquiring when he intended to go to fulfill his engagements at Ghent where he had undertaken to direct some concerts ah that is it he replied sadly I go in three days from Tuesday and it is now Sunday but before I leave England I know my fate whether I am to come back to claim her so far it is infatuation carried him but listen Emile you shall see her too on that same night for there is to be an assembly of her father's guests and I have undertaken to find performers who can play the music of the latest operas during the supper you of course will come and when it is all over and the guests have gone will ask her that which shall make or destroy me it was useless to reason further and I could only embrace him and let him depart the house of the wealthy English sir was a fine mansion stately standing in its own pleasure garden in Brompton or at least beyond Piccadilly I went I and others of the band in a cab on the night when I was to meet Franz there and to see the lady with whom he had become enslaved to madness arrived we found that the carriage drive was full of vehicles and we with our instruments entered on foot to see Franz in the hall speaking as we believe to the sir Joseph who since the loss of his wife and his assemblies in such things as were refused by his daughter her I saw presently when we went up to the room above where she sat cleanly on a sofa to receive the guests with that same high proud cruel expression upon her face by which I remembered her in her portrait even as I looked at her however I saw it changed to a smile half amused and she turned and whispered something to her younger sister a girl of 13 years to me it seemed and shrugged her shoulders with short mocking laugh I turned to the direction her eyes had taken and saw Franz directing our band were to seat themselves on a little red cloth covered platform in an alcove his face beamed his eyes sparkled last then he had seen the smile but not the contempt that lay hidden therein or the cruel laugh which followed it many guests were there and soon the rooms which were large brilliantly lighted and handsomely furnished were thronged we played the newest music from the last operas and sometimes a dance in which the lady Adeline was the name by which she was called once or twice joined having for her partner a tall broad man who came in with a swinging step of a dragoon and who though he was perhaps not more than 8 and 20 had a face in which it was easy to see the marks of free living and the coarse redness of the bon vivant not too particular in his rotations very strong and heavy he seemed as he turned round his bulky frame and leaned down to talk to his partner until his tawny red mustache nearly brushed her cheek but he was evidently a privileged person for though she had first treated him with her natural houture she seemed constrained to laugh at his sallies whatever they may and since he laughed loudly at them himself oh dear brother I thought sadly as I saw him go up to Sir Joseph and smite him upon the shoulder this is the father suitor and no doubt a lord as indeed so it proved in event for I soon heard him addressed by the name of Lord George Franz who conducted our band had little opportunity of remarking this man who moved about the rooms with a sort of swaggering ease and was to me so a fancy little look that I could not but follow him with my eyes especially when he lounged over the sofa with a daughter of the house sat and again laughed boisterously at some joke which seemed to be directed against us as I saw her quickly in the direction of the orchestra presently some of the guests asked her to play to them on the piano and after a moment's refusal she consented beckoning Franz at the same time to come thither with his face effused with that same look of anxious tenderness which I had noticed in the evening when he spoke of her to me he went she performed but in differently it was evident that she regarded with more particularity the position of her arms and the movement of her plump white hands over the keys than the rendering of the notes still there was great applause and she told Franz to find another piece and to stay by her chair to turn over the leaves of the music she played this mechanically and I could see that as he stooped forward she was talking to him and that his face was flushed he sat down afterwards by her request and she remained standing by his side never had I heard him play so well I have said that he had genius and had burst forth as he ran his fingers over the keys in a wild outdoor of harmony which hushed the buzz of conversation in the rooms and soon brought a knot of people round the piano where he was sitting I believe unconscious of the presence of any but the woman on whose face his eyes were fixed he seemed to be under a spell and to translate the incantation that had bound him into music at that moment lord George strode across the room devilishly good but rather long he said with a coarse laugh can he change into a waltz that line she echoed his laugh by a titter which was taken up by two or three of the company who were of the high breeding and ashamed to have been betrayed into interest fran sprang up the fire had died out of his eyes he had turned pale the gentleman prefers a waltz he said to us waving his hand almost contemptuously and he came and took up his place among us only one glance of intelligence passing between him and me as he pressed my arm in passing supper was served in the large lower room with furniture splendid and costly and leading by doors of stained glass to a broad stone balcony overlooking the pleasure garden for the present these rooms were open and a sort of tent lifted itself over the balcony where we were to perform and were also a table was laid for a refreshment with wines and such dishes as we chose to ask should be brought by the servants fran came backwards and forwards for he had been invited to sup the table with the guests and yet it liked him not to desert us I could see that he was restless and excited and noticed painfully that he twice stole to the back of the chair on which sat the lady daughter next to Lord George who had taken her down to supper and after a word or two went back uneasily he ate scarcely anything either which to me is an evil sign since it is ill for a German when he eats not only when we were putting up our instruments and about to leave that he come up to me and whisper I remain here dear meal for a time until I can know what is my fortune but I will come forth to thee at once tonight so secure for me the bedroom which thy landlady has to spare and after I had left him there happened this most of the guests had gone only a few bring left upstairs taking coffee amongst whom was Lord George drinking liqueur and not quite sober Franz had descended to the supper room to collect his music and waited there believing that presently would come down the hybrid atline and that he would then secure the opportunity for which his heart was bursting to speak to her boldly before he left London it was in this room that he had been used to giving her those lessons which had alas been so fatal to him and even now her piano stood open between the windows under the great mirror so as she came not he sat down to it and began to play one of the love songs which he had written for her and to sing in a low voice her name wedded to new words looking up presently on hearing the opening of the door in the wrestle of a rich dress he saw her in the mirror above coming softly into the room and in another moment felt her arm upon his shoulder he seized her hand and kissed it and it was not withdrawn as she bent beside him he saw that a long dark dress had escaped from the diamond comb that confined her hair and having grown bolder begged her to give it him she asked him why he wanted it and trembling with emotions he said as a garge d'amour he had risen from the piano and looked her in the face fearing that he had said too much but she only answered with a laugh in which he could see nothing of the scornful and said oh true you are going away and I had almost forgotten it quick then take off this curl with your pen knife and you too must give me one of yours until you come back so that there shall be a never-mance with a trembling hand he severed a thin shining band from the dress which he held out to him in her white fingers then pressed it passionately to his lips and placed it in the case where her portrait already lay next to his heart she all the time regarding him with that cruel smile having something in it of amusement and contempt taking the pen knife from him she then cut away a thick crisp curl from his temple and held it twine round her thumb while she went to a writing case for an envelope in which to place it words which he longed to speak struggled for utterance it was difficult for him to forget that she was his pupil only that she was also the hybrid daughter of the Sir Joseph while he was but a musician the teacher of an art whose professors are often regarded with contempt this he had learned as a part of his English experience best beloved and dearest miss he said presently taking both her hands to say that you know not my adoration would be untrue to be absent from you has to me become insupportable since my heart is ever burning with your self inspired devotion I leave the place where I have found the happiness of my life oh you are going abroad replied she and you will leave me all alone expecting that I shall practice the lessons you have taught me while you are away but that I will not do for we too leave town shortly and I will not play again until you are with me here and I will return to her and token of which see here and she placed inside the piano the envelope containing the curl which he had cut from his temple then locked it then handed him the key you give me then to hope he asked passionately seizing her hand and pressing upon his heart help what she said quickly looking him in the face help whatever you dare hope they were pacing the room together and had entered the balcony as he poured out a confused torrent of words the confession of a passion so long concealed and down-kempt as they stood by the balustrade where the edge of the tent had been lifted they could see the garden all bathed in the pure moonlight he had sunk upon his knee and his tears were wet among the diamonds that sparkled on her wrist both were absorbed for perhaps even she had for a moment been carried out of herself by the force of his heartfelt words when they heard a loud crash as a broken glass and there stood Lord George stumbling amongst the empty champagne bottles which we had left behind the door he swung around with an oath and before Franz could recover his feet had seized him by the collar the high-born headland lost but for a moment her composure then she said you may spare your bad language George let this gentleman go we were only carrying out scene of private theatricals a little too far but Lord George who was too tipsy to hear this sort of explanation struck Franz a blow upon the breast before he could struggle to his feet and caused him to fall back heavily perhaps neither the blow nor the vile epithets that he used would have so affected my poor brother but for the cruel words spoken by her to whom he had just been pouring out the love-wealth of his soul but when his foe once more attempted to seize him swearing that he would kick him out of the house Franz threw up his hand and twisting his fingers into my Lord's neckcloth which came away in the struggle closed with a strong man both of them went reeling frustrated and Lord George was using every effort to throw his more active antagonist over into the garden when part of the stonework gave way and both together went crashing down with it to the lawn below Franz was undermost and lay for a moment stunned and bleeding but Lord George extricated himself and as he did so kicked the prostrate man as heavily as his thin patent leather boots would permit this time and amongst them the Sir Joseph several servants the latter of whom attempted to raise Franz but he shook them off staggered to his feet looking up to the balcony where the high red daughter still stood pale and frightened but cold and cruel still let him go at once she said to her father who had asked her what was the matter I had been just staying with her Wilhelm and he forgot himself late that night a cab that had furiously driven along the street stopped at the door of the house where I lodged and Franz pale bleeding and covered with dirt staggered in without a hat at first I thought he had been rejected and had sought consolation at a tavern but this was so contrary to his to me well known character that I was filled with apprehension as he sank gasping into a chair and I saw the mingled froth and blood upon his lips it was not till I had tried to soothe him and he had gone to bed that I had learned all that had happened and then he became so exhausted that late as it was I sent out the landlady's son for a physician for two days he lay there delirious and even when the fever left him he was still so weak that though the doctor said there was no vital injury he looked very gravely at me and advised that as soon as he could bear the journey he should be sent to his friends at Ghent poor dear Franz what friends had he but mother Schwartz and the good Mina but they were better than I though I did my best to nurse him and sat with him night and day weeping as I listened to his rambling feverish talk and heard the cough with shook his slender frame at length he was strong enough to go and I went with him to leave him safely in the care of the two good women who had already prepared a pretty cheerful room in the quietest part of the great hotel and were both full of glowing anticipations that he would soon recover for myself I said goodbye and we embraced with mutual tears for something told me I might not see him again and though he might recover I might be the one to die for though to him I told it not I knew the duty which I had taken upon myself to do he was my dutzputta and I must avenge him whenever I could meet with that bloated coward End of section 5