Books › The Red Book 1911-10: Vol 17 Iss 6, 1911 › scan 101
Scan 101
The Red Book 1911-10: Vol 17 Iss 6, 1911
52 lines. Read by computer on 14 September 2026. Printed page 1062. See the scan on archive.org.
1In that first noon hour he sat with his fellows on portions of rock, eating the bread and cheese he had surreptitiously brought from home, glad of companionship, and of a brief respite for unaccustomed muscles. One by one the men went over to the violin case to look at it; some even ventured to lift it. Herr Amsler, observing them, wondered why it was he had brought it again to-day, instead of leaving it with his overcoat at the shop. It had felt so good to have it yesterday. That was the reason, he supposed.
3"Would you like to see it?" he asked, rising.
5Those who understood cried out "Si, Si," eagerly. The others followed their example, and when the case was opened they all crowded around with the curiosity of children who are permitted to examine the mechanism of a watch.
7"It is not good for it, this cold air," Herr Amsler thought, "but what can that matter now?"
9Presently some one whispered in the Irishman's ear; he stepped up, their chosen spokesman.
11"The boys want to know," he said, "if you will give us a tchune?"
13Breathlessly they waited.
15"You would wish," Herr Amsler said, and his voice trembled—"You would wish to hear me play?"
17He was answered by a chorus of acclamations.
19"Gladly, gladly," he rejoined in full; rich tones, and could hardly wait to get the instrument in tune, so impatient was he to begin.
21"They wanted it—these men wanted his music!" His heart sang so loud that it nearly deafened him. Well—they should have it!
23So he played to them, one after another, the simpler airs of their own operas, and as he played they wandered over the terraced hills and bathed themselves in the warm sunshine of their Italy, and the tears coursed unchecked down their cheeks, leaving little, white furrows in the grime of their faces. When it was over all went back silently to work, player and audience toiling side by side in a comradeship to which the comprehension of each other's speech would have added nothing essential.
25"I am not yet too old! Not yet too old to work, not too old to make music!"
27This was the consciousness that strengthened and sustained Herr Amsler from now on, every morning when he awoke, and kept hope alive.
29If it had not been for deceiving his wife—Ah, there it was, the secret canker that ate into his heart. To look into her eyes, once his refreshment, was now his punishment. He hated to come home at night, after his careful change of clothes and linen in the musty inner room at the pawn-broker's. When he walked out of that dark doorway he felt like a criminal assuming a disguise.
31One evening he was very tired. There had been a cold wind on the unfinished road, great clouds of dust had swept one after another up the boulevard, and one of his strings had snapped, putting an end to the music which was now a daily event.
33"Franz," said Frau Amsler suddenly, her eyes on her knitting.
35"What then?" he answered listlessly.
37She paused. Then, "I think I go to the concert to-morrow," she announced deliberately. "The program looks good. It was in the paper."
39Herr Amsler heard his doom in her words, spoken thus quietly.
41So ended it, then. It had been to no purpose that he had lied.
43It was two years since Maddelena had expressed any desire to attend one of the concerts given by her husband's orchestra. As she grew older, she went out less and less. She loved music—yes—but who, then, should keep the house? The argument had been unanswerable.
45He had deceived Maddelena. For four weeks he had deceived her. Alles umsonst.
47Try as he would, he could not still the trembling that now seized his body. It seemed that she had not wanted him to still it.
49Silently she held out her arms. The big man crumbled, and she enfolded him as though he had been a babe.
51It was fully half an hour before she could soothe him into silence. His feel-
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