DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 with funding from Duke University Libraries https://archive.org/details/weirdtales121 hoff WEIRD TALES WEIRD TALES BY E. T. W. HOFFMANN A TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN BY J. T. BEALBY, B.A. FORMERLY SCHOLAR OF CORPUS CHRISTI COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE q o'? 2.7 NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 1923 7 V- «'T / t A £ - J 2 . 0 * 2 31 "7 / I j • 6 r* Äc-vw^^'' j~| £ CONTENTS v VOLUME I k/ • .^ The Cremona Violin PAGE I ^ ^he Fermata 3 2 Signöf-Eoffliica 59 i^'^he Sand-man L . x68 The Entail 216 Arthur’s Hall 3 22 VOLUME II The Doge and Dogess Master Martin the Cooper • 1 V * V 68 Mademoiselle De Scuderi 149 Gambler’s Luck 242-'"'' Marter Johannes Wacht 280 Will THE CREMONA VIOLIN. OUN CILLOR KRESPEL was one of the stran- gestpoddest men I everlnet with in my life. When I went to live in H for a time the whole town was full of talk about him, as he happened to be just then in the midst of one of the very craziest of his schemes. Krespel had the reputation of being both a clever, learned lawyer and a skilful diplomatist. One of the r eigni ng princes of Germany — not, however, one of the most powerful — had appealed to him for assistance in drawing up a memorial, which he was desirous of pre- senting at the Imperial Court with the view of further- ing his legitimate claims upon a certain strip of terri- tory. The project was crowned with the happiest success ; and as Krespel had once complained that he could never find a dwelling sufficiently comfortable to suit him, the prince, to reward him for the memorial, undertook to defray the cost of building a house which Krespel might erect just as he pleased. Moreover, the prince was willing to purchase any site that he should fancy. This offer, however, the Councillor would not accept ; he insisted that the house should be built in his garden, situated in a very beautiful neighbourhood outside the town-walls. So he botight all kinds of ma- terials and had them carted out. Then he might have been seen day after day, attired in his curious garments (which he had made himself according to certain fixed 2 THE CREMONA VIOLIN. rules of his own), slacking the lime, riddling the sar packing up the bricks and stones in regular heaps, a so on. All this he did without once consulting an ; chitect or thinking about a plan. One fine day, ho ever, he went to an experienced builder of the to\ and requested him to be in his garden at daybreak t next morning, with all his journeymen and apprentic and a large body of labourers, &c., to build him 1 house. Naturally the builder asked for the architec plan, and was not a little astonished when Krespel plied that none was needed, and that things would tu out all right in the end, just as he wanted them. N« morning, when the builder and his men came to t place, they found a trench drawn out in the shape of exact square ; and Krespel said, “ Here’s where y must lay the foundations ; then carry up the walls ur. I say they are high enough.” “ Without windows a doors, and without partition walls ? ” broke in t builder, as if alarmed at Krespel’s mad folly. “1 what I tell you, my dear sir,” replied the Council quite calmly ; “ leave the rest to me ; it will be right.” It was only the promise of high pay that coi induce the builder to proceed with the ridiculous bui ing ; but none has ever been erected under merr circumstances. As there was an abundant supply food and drink, the workmen never left their wor and amidst their continuous laughter the four wa were run up with incredible quickness, until one d Krespel cried, “ Stop ! ” Then the workmen, layi down trowel and hammer, came down from the sc foldings and gathered round Krespel in a circle, whi every laughing face was asking, “Well, and wl now ? ” “ Make way ! ” cried Krespel ; and then rt ning to one end of the garden, he strode slowly towai the square of brick-work. When he came close to t THE CREMONA VIOLIN. 3 wall he shook his head in a dissatisfied manner, ran to the other end of the garden, again strode slowly towards the brick-work square, and proceeded to act as before. These tactics he pursued several times, until at length, running his sharp nose hard against the wall, he cried, “Come here, come here, men! break me a door in here ! Here’s where I want a door made ! ” He gave the exact dimensions in feet and inches, and they did as he bid them. Then he stepped inside the structure, and smiled with satisfaction as the builder remarked that the walls were just the height of a good two-storeyed house. Krespel walked thoughtfully backwards and forwards across the space within, the bricklayers behind him with hammers and picks, and wherever he cried, “ Make a window here, six feet high by four feet broad ! ” “ There a little window, three feet by two ! ” a hole was made in a trice. It was at this stage of the proceedings that I came to H ;Jand it was highly amusing to see how hun- dreds of people stood round about the garden and raised a loud shout whenever the stones flew out and a new window appeared where nobotly had for a moment expected it. And in the same manner Krespel pro- ceeded with the buildings and fittings of the rest of the house, and with all the work necessary to that end ; everything had to be done on the spot in accordance with the instructions which the Councillor gave from time to time. However, the absurdity of the whole business, the growing conviction that things would in the end turn out better thah might have been expected, but above all, Krespel's generosity — which indeed cost him nothing — kept them all in good-humour. Thus were the difficulties overcome which necessarily arose out of this eccentric way of building, and in a short time there was a completely finished house, its outside, 4 THE CREMONA VIOLIN. indeed, presenting a most extraordinary" appearance, no two windows, &c., being alike, but on the other hand the interior arrangements suggested a peculiar feeling of comfort. All who entered the house bore witness to the truth of this ; and I too experienced it myself when I was taken in by Krespel after I had be- come more intimate with him. For hitherto I had not exchanged a word with this eccentric man ; his build- ing had occupied him so much that he had not even once been to Professor M ’s to dinner, as he w r as in the habit of doing on Tuesdays. Indeed, in reply to a special invitation, he sent word that he should not set foot over the threshold before the house-warming of his new building took place. All his friends and ac- quaintances, therefore, confidently looked forward to a \ great banquet ; but Krespel invited nobody except the 1 masters, journeymen, apprentices, and labourers who ' had built the house. He entertained them with the choic- est viands : bricklayer’s apprentices devoured partridge pies regardless of consequences ; young joiners polished off roast pheasants with the greatest success ; whilst hun- gry labourers helped themselves for once to the choicest morsels of i ruffes fricassees. In the evening their wives and daughters came, and there was a great ball. After waltzing a short while with the wives of the masters, Krespel sat down amongst the town-musicians, took a vio- lin in his hand, and directed the orchestra until daylight. J On the Tuesday after this festival, which exhibited Councillor Krespel in the character of a friend of the people, I at length saw him appear, to my no little joy, at Professor M ’s. Anything more strange and fantastic than Krespel’s behaviour it would be impossi- ble to find. He was so stiff and awkward in his move- ments, that he looked every moment as if he would run up against something or do some damage. But he THE CREMONA VIOLIN. 5 did not ; and the lady of the house seemed to be well aware that he would not, for she did not grow a shade paler when he rushed with heavy steps round a table crowded with beautiful cups, or when he manoeuvred near a large mirror that reached down to the floor, or even when he seized a flower-pot of beautifully painted porcelain and swung it round in the air as if desirous af making its colours play. Moreover, before dinner ae subjected everything in the Professor’s room to a most minute examination ; he also took down a pic- ;ure from the wall and hung it up again, standing on cne of the cushioned chairs to do so. At the same :ime he talked a good deal and vehemently ; at one :ime his thoughts kept leaping, as it were, from one subject to another (this was most conspicuous during iinner) ; at another, he was unable to have done with in idea ; seizing upon it again and again, he gave it ill sorts of wonderful twists and turns, and couldn’t ijet back into the ordinary track until something else took hold of his fancy. Sometimes his voice was rough and harsh and screeching, and sometimes it was low and drawling and singing ; but at no time did it harmonize with what he was talking about. Music was the subject of conversation ; the praises of a new composer were being sung, when Krespel, smiling, said in his low singing tones, “ I wish the devil with his pitchfork would hurl that atrocious garbler of music millions of fathoms down to the bottomless pit of hell ! ” Then he burst out passionately and wildly, “ She is an angel of heaven, nothing but pure God- given music ! — the paragon and queen of song ! ” — and tears stood in his eyes. To understand this, we had to go back to a celebrated artiste , who had been the sub- ject of conversation an hour before. Just at this time a roast hare was on the table ; I 6 THE CREMONA VIOLIN. noticed that Krespel carefully removed every particle of meat from the bones on his plate, and was most particular in his inquiries after the hare’s feet ; these the Professor’s little five-year-old daughter now brought to him with a very pretty smile. Besides, the children had cast many friendly glances towards Krespel during dinner ; now they rose and drew nearer to him, but not without signs of timorous awe. What’s the mean- ing of that ? thought I to myself. Dessert was brought in ; then the Councillor took a little box from his pocket, in which he had a miniature lathe of steel. This he immediately screwed fast to the table, and turning the bones with incredible skill and rapidity, he made all sorts of little fancy boxes and balls, which the children received with cries of delight. Just as we were rising from table, the Professor’s niece asked, X“ And what is our Antonia doing ? ” Krespel’s face was like that of one who has bitten of a sour orange and wants to look as if it were a sweet one ; but this expression soon changed into the likeness of a hideous mask, whilst he laughed behind it with downright bitter, fierce, and as it seemed to me, satanic scorn. •‘Our Antonia? our dear Antonia?” he asked in his drawling, disagreeable singing way. The grofessqr hastened to intervene ; in the reproving glance which he gave his niece I read that she had touched a point likely to stir up unpleasant memories in Krespel’s heart. “ How are you getting on with your violins ? ” inter- posed the Professor in a jovial manner, taking the Councillor by both hands. Then Krespel’s counte- nance cleared up, and with a firm voice he replied. “ Capitally, Professor ; you recollect my telling you of the lucky chance which threw that splendid Atnati 1 1 The Amati were a celebrated family of violin-makers of the six- teenth and seventeenth centuries, belonging to Cremona in Italy. THE CREMONA VIOLIN. 7 into my hands. Well, I’ve only cut it open to-day — not before to-day. I hope Antonia has carefully taken the rest of it to pieces.” “ Antonia is a good child,” remarked the Professor. “Yes, indeed, that she is,” cried the Councillor, whisking himself round ; then, seizing his hat and stick, he hastily rushed out of the room. I saw in the mirror how that tears were stand- ing in his eyes. ^ As soon as the Councillor was gone, I at once urged the Professor to explain to me what Krespel had to do with violins, and particularly with Antonia. “Well,” replied the Professor, “ not only is the Councillor a remarkably eccentric fell ow altogether, but he practises violin-m aking in his own crack-brained way.” “Violin- making!” I exclaimed, perfectly astonished. “Yes,” continued the Professor, “ according to the judgment of men who understand the thing, Krespel makes the' very best violins that can be found nowadays ; formerly he would frequently let other people play on those in which he had been especially successful, but that’s been all over and done with now for a long time. As soon as he has finished a violin he plays on it himself for one or two hours, with very re markable p ower and with the most exquisite expression, then he hangs it up beside the rest, and never touches it again or suffers anybody else to touch it. If a violin by any of the eminent old masters is hunted up anywhere, the Coun- cillor buys it immediately, no matter what the price put upon it. But he plays it as he does his own violins, only once ; then he takes it to pieces in order to examine closely its inner structure, and should he fancy he hasn’t found exactly what he sought for, he in a pet throws the pieces into a big chest, which is already full of the They form the connecting-link between the Brescian school of makers and the greatest of all makers, Straduarius and Guamerius. s THE CREMONA VIOLIN. remains of broken violins.” “ But who and what is jVntonia ? ” I inquired, hastily and impetuously. “ Well, now, that,” continued the Professor, “ that is a thing which might very well make me conceive an unconquerable aversion to the Councillor, were I not convinced that there is some peculiar secret behind it, for he is such a good-natured fellow at bottom as to be sometimes guilty of weakness. When he came to H , several years ago, he led the life of an ajichorite, along wit h an old housekeeper, in Street. Soon, by his oddities, he excited the curiosity of his neigh- bours ; and immediately he became aware of this, he sought and made acquaintances. Not only in my house but everywhere we became so accustomed to him that he grew to be indispensable. In spite of his rude exterior, even the children liked him, without ever proving a nuisance to him ; for notwithstanding all their friendly passages together, they always retained a certain timorous awe of him, which secured him against all over-familiarity. You have to-day had an example of the way in which he wins their hearts by his ready skill in various things. We all took him at first for a crusty old bachelor, and he never contradicted us. After he had been living here some time, he went away, nobody knew where, and returned at the end of some months. The evening following his return his windows were lit up to an unusual extent ! this alone was suffi- cient to arouse his neighbours’ attention, and they soon heard the surpassingly beautiful voice of a female singing to the accompaniment of a piano. Then the music of a violin was heard chiming in and entering upon a keen ardent contest with the voice. They knew at once that the player was the Councillor. I myself mixed in the large crowd which had gathered in front of his house to listen to this extraordinary THE CREMONA VIOLIN. 9 concert ; and I must confess that, beside this voice and the peculiar, deep, soul-stirring impression which the execution made upon me, the singing of the most cele- brated artistes whom I had ever heard seemed to me feeble and void of expression. Until then I had had no conception of such long-sustained notes, of such nightingale trills, of such undulations of musical sound, of such swelling up to the strength of organ-notes, of such dying away to the faintest whisper. There was not one whom the sweet witchery did not enthral ; and when the singer ceased, nothing but soft sighs broke the impressive silence. Somewhere about mid- night the Councillor was heard talking violently, and another male voice seemed, to judge from the tones, to be reproaching him, whilst at intervals the broken words of a sobbing girl could be detected. The Coun- cillor continued to shout with increasing violence, until he fell into that drawling, singing way that you know. He was interrupted by a loud scream from the girl, and then all was as still as death. Suddenly a loud racket was heard on the stairs ; a young man rushed out sobbing, threw himself into a post-chaise which stood below, and drove rapidly away. The next day the Councillor was very cheerful, and nobody had the courage to question him about the events of the previous night. But on inquiring of the house- keeper, we gathered that the Councillor had brought home with him an extraordinarily pretty young lady whom he called Antonia, and she it was who had sung so beautifully. A young man also had come along with them ; he had treated Antonia very tenderly, and must evidently have been her betrothed. But he, since the Councillor peremptorily insisted on it, had had to go away again in a hurry. What the relations between Antonia and the Councillor are has remained IO THE CREMONA VIOLIN. until now a secret, but this much is certain, that he tyrannises over the poor girl in the most hateful fashion. He watches her as Doctor Bartholo watches his ward in the Barber of Seville ; she hardly dare show herself at the window ; and if, yielding now and again to her earnest entreaties, he takes her into society, he follows her with Argus’ eyes, and will on no account suffer a musical note to be sounded, far less let Antonia sing — indeed, she is not permitted to sing in his own house. Antonia’s singing on that memorable night, has, there- fore, come to be regarded by the townspeople in the light of a tradition of some marvellous wonder that 1 suffices to stir the heart and the fancy ; and even those who did not hear it often exclaim, whenever any other singer attempts to display her powers in the place, ‘ What sort of a -wretched squeaking do you call that ? Nobody but Antonia knows how to sing.’ ” X Having a singular weakness for such like fantastic his- tories, I found it necessary, as may easily be imagined, to make Antonia’s acquaintance. I had myself often enough heard the popular sayings about her singing, but had never imagined that that exquisite artiste was living in the place, held a captive in the bonds of this eccentric Krespel like the victim of a tyrannous sor- cerer. Naturally enough I heard in my dreams on the following night Antonia’s marvellous voice, and as she besought me in the most touching manner in a glorious adagio movement (very ridiculously it seemed to me, as if I had composed it myself) to save her, I soon re- solved, like a second Astolpho,' to penetrate into Kres- pel’s house, as if into another Alcina’s magic castle, 1 A reference to Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso. Astolpho, an English cousin of Orlando, was a great boaster, but generous, courteous, gay, and remarkably handsome ; he was carried to Alcina’s island on the back of a whale. THE CREMONA VIOLIN. ii and deliver the queen of song from her ignominious fetters. It all came about in a different way from what I had expected ; I had seen the Councillor scarcely more than two or three times, and eagerly discussed with him the best method of constructing violins, when he invited me to call and see him. I did so ; and he showed me his treasures of violins. There were fully thirty of them hanging up in a closet ; one amongst them bore con- spicuously all the marks of great antiquity (a carved lion’s head, &c.), and, hung up higher than the rest and sur- mounted by a crown of flowers, it seemed to exercise a queenly supremacy over them. “ This violin,” said Krespel, on my making some inquiry relative to it, “ this violin is a very remarkable and curious specimen of the work of some unknown master, probably o f Tartini ’s 1 age. I am perfectly convinced that there is something especially exceptional in its inner construction, and that, if I took it to pieces, a secret would be revealed to me which I have long been seeking to discover, but — laugh at me if you like — this senseless thing which only gives signs of life and sound as I make it, often speaks to me in a strange way of itself. The first time I played upon it I somehow fancied that I was onlv the magnetiser who has the power of moving his subject to reveal of his own accord in words the visions of his inner nature. Don’t go away with the belief that I am such a fool as to attach even the slightest importance to such fan- tastic notions, and yet it’s certainly strange that I could 1 Giuseppe Tartini, born in 1692, died in 1770 ; was one of the most celebrated violinists of the eighteenth century, and the discoverer (in 1714) of “resultant tones,” or “ Tartini’s tones ” as they are frequently called. Most of his life was spent at Padua. He did much to advance the art of the violinist, both by his compositions for that instrument as well as by his treatise on its capabilities. 12 Th E CK EM ON A VIOLIN. never prevail upon myself to cut open that dumb life less thing there. I am very pleased now that I hav< not cut it open, for since Antonia has been with me sometimes play to her upon this violin. For Antoni; is fond of it — very fond of it.” As the Councillo uttered these words with visible signs of emotion, I fel encouraged to hazard the question, “ Will you not plat it to me, Councillor.” Krespel made a wry face, anc falling into his drawling, singing way, said, “No, mt good sir ! ” and that was an end of the matter. Ther I had to look at all sorts of rare curiosities, the greatei part of them childish trifles ; at last thrusting his arn into a chest, he brought out a folded piece of paper which he pressed into my hand, adding solemnly “You are a lover of art ; take this present as a priceless memento, which you must value at all times above everything else.” Therewith he took me by the shoul- ders and gently pushed me towards the door, embracing me on the threshold. That is to say, I was in a sym- bolical manner virtually kicked out of doors. Unfold- ing the paper, I found a piece of a first string of a violin about an eighth of an inch in length, with the words, “ A piece of the treble string with which the deceased Stamitz 1 strung his violin for the last concert at which he ever played.” This summary dismissal at mention of Antonia’s name led me to infer that I should never see her ; but I was mistaken, for on my second visit to the Council- lor’s 1 found her in his room, assisting him to put a violin together. At first sight Antonia did not make a strong impression ; but soon I found it impossible to 1 This was the name of a well-known musical family from Bohemia. Karl Stamitz is the one here possibly meant, since he died about eigh- teen or twenty years previous to the publication of this tale. THE CREMONA VIOLIN. 13 ear myself away from her blue eyes, her sweet rosy ips, her uncommonly graceful, lovely form. She was rery pale ; but a shrewd remark or a merry sally would sail up a winning smile on her face and suffuse her :heeks with a deep burning flush, which, however, soon aded away to a faint rosy glow. My conversation ,vith her was quite unconstrained, and yet I saw nothing vhateverof the Argus-like watchings on Krespel’s part .vhich the Professor had imputed to him ; on the con- rary, his behaviour moved along the customary lines, lay, he even seemed to approve of my conversation ,vith Antonia. So I often stepped in to see the Coun- cillor ; and as we became accustomed to each other’s society, a singular feeling of homeliness, taking posses- sion of our little circle of three, filled our hearts with nward happiness. I still continued to derive exquisite enjoyment from the Councillor’s strange crotchets and iddities ; but it was of course Antonia’s irresistible charms alone which attracted me, and led me to put up vith a good deal which I should otherwise, in the frame if mind in which I then was, have impatiently shunned. For it only too often happened that in the Councillor's characteristic extravagance there was min- gled much that was dull and tiresome ; and it was in a special degree irritating to me that, as often as I turned she conversation upon music, and particularly upon singing, he was sure to interrupt me, with that sardonic smile upon his face and those repulsive singing tones if his, by some remark of a quite opposite tendency, irery often of a commonplace character. From the great iistress which at such times Antonia’s glances betrayed, 1 perceived that he only did it to deprive me of a pre- sext for calling upon her for a song. But I didn’t re- .inquish my design. The hindrances which the Coun- sellor threw in my way only strengthened my resolution 14 THE CREMONA VIOLIN. to overcome them ; I must hear Antonia sing if I was not to pine away in reveries and dim aspirations for want of hearing her. A One evening Krespel was in an uncommonly good humour ; he had been taking an old .Cremona viol in to pieces, and had discovered that the sound-post was fixed half a line more obliquely than usual — an impor- tant discovery ! one of incalculable advantage in the practical work of making violins ! I succeeded in set- ting him off at full speed on his hobby of the true art of violin-playing. Mention of the way in which the old masters picked up their dexterity in execution from really great singers (which was what Krespel happened just then to be expatiating upon), naturally paved the -way for the remark that now the practice was the exact opposite of this, the vocal score erroneously following the affected and abrupt transitions and rapid scaling of the instrumentalists. “What is more nonsensical,” I cried, leaping from my chair, running to the piano, and opening it quickly, “what is more nonsensical than such an execrable style as this, which, far from being music, is much more like the noise of peas rolling across the floor ? ” At the same time I sang several of the modern fermatas , which rush up and down and hum like a well-spun peg-top, striking a few villanous chords by way of accompaniment. Krespel laughed outra- geously and screamed, “ Ha ! ha ! methinks I hear our German-Jtalians or our Italian-Germans struggling with an aria from Pucitta, 1 or Portogallo, 2 or some 'Vincenzo Pucitta (1778-1861) was an Italian opera composer, whose music “shows great facility, but no invention.” He also wrote several songs. 3 II Portogallo was the Italian sobriquet of a Portuguese musician named Mark Anthony Sirnao (1763-1829). He lived alternately in Italy and Portugal, and wrote several operas. THE CREMONA VIOLIN. 15 other Maestro di capella , or rather schiavo d’ un primo uomo 1 Now, thought I, now’s the time ; so turning to Antonia, I remarked, “ Antonia knows nothing of such singing as that, I believe ? ” At the same time I struck up one of old Leonardo Leo’s * 2 beautiful soul- stirring songs. Then Antonia’s cheeks glowed ; heav- enly radiance sparkled in her eyes, which grew full of reawakened inspiration ; she hastened to the piano ; she opened her lips ; but at that very moment Krespel pushed her away, grasped me by the shoulders, and with a shriek that rose up to a tenor pitch, cried, “My son — my son — my son ! ” And then he immediately went on, singing very softly, and grasping my hand with a bow that was the pink of politeness, “ In very truth, my esteemed and honourable student-friend, in very truth it would be a violation of the codes of social intercourse, as well as of all good manners, were I to express aloud and in a stirring way my wish that here, on this very spot, the devil from hell would softly break your neck with his burning claws, and so in a sense make short work of you ; but, setting that aside, you must acknowledge, my dearest friend, that it is rapidly growing dark, and there are no lamps burning to-night so that, even though I did not kick you downstairs at once, your darling limbs might still run a risk of suf- fering damage. G o, home bv all means : and cheris h a kind remembrance of your faithful friend, if it should happen that you never, — pray, understand me, — if you ! Literally, “ The slave of a pri?no uomo," primo uomo being the masculine form corresponding to prima donna, that is, a singer of hero’s parts in operatic music. At one time also female parts were sung and acted by men or boys. 2 Leonardo Leo, the chief Neapolitan representative of Italian music in the first part of the eighteenth century, and author of more than forty operas and nearly one hundred compositions for the Church. i6 THE CREMONA VIOLIN. should never see him in his own house again.” There- with he embraced me, and, still keeping fast hold ol me, turned with me slowly towards the door, so that 1 could not get another single look at Antonia. O course it is plain enough that in my position I couldn’' thrash the Councillor, though that is what he reall} deserved. The Professor enjoyed a good laugh at m) expense, and assured me that I had ruined for ever al hopes of retaining the Councillor’s friendship. Antoni; was too dear to me, I might say too holy, for me to gc and play the part of the languishing lover and stanc gazing up at her window, or to fill the role of the love sick adventurer. Completely upset, I went away fron H ; but, as is usual in such cases, the brillian colours of the picture of my fancy faded, and the rec ollection of Antonia, as w T ell as of Antonia’s singim (which I had never heard), often fell upon my hear like a soft faint trembling light, comforting me. A" Two years afterwards I received an appointment h B , and set out on a journey to the south of Ger many. The towers of H rose before me in the re< vaporous glow of the evening ; the nearer I came th- more was I oppressed by an indescribable feeling o the most agonising distress ; it lay upon me like ; heavy burden ; I could not breathe ; I was obliged t( get out of my carriage into the open air. But my an guish continued to increase until it became actual phys ical pain. Soon I seemed to hear the strains of solemn chorale floating in the air ; the sounds con tinued to grow more distinct ; I realised the fact tha they were men’s voices chanting a church chorale “What’s that ? what’s that ?” I cried, a burning sta darting as it were through my breast. “ Don’t yo see ? ” replied the coachman, who was driving alon beside me, “ why, don’t you see ? they’re buryin THE CREMONA VIOLIN. 17 somebody up yonder in yon churchyard.” And indeed we were near the churchyard ; I saw a circle of men clothed in black standing round a grave, which was on the point of being closed. Tears started to my eyes ; I somehow fancied they were burying there all the joy and all the happiness of life. Moving on rapidly down the hill, I was no longer able to see into the church- yard ; the chorale came to an end, and I perceived not far distant from the gate some of the mourners return- ing from the funeral. The Professor, with his niece on his arm, both in deep mourning, went close past me without noticing me. The young lady had her hand- kerchief pressed close to her eyes, and was weeping bitterly. In the frame of mind in which I then was I could not possibly go into the town, so I sent on my servant with the carriage to the hotel where I usually out up, whilst I took a turn in the familiar neighbour- rood, to get rid of a mood that was possibly only due .0 physical causes, such as heating on the journey, &c. 3n arriving at a well-known avenue, which leads to a fleasure resort, I came upon a most extraordinary pectacle. Councillor Krespel was being conducted by wo mourners, from whom he appeared to be endeav- oring to make his escape by all sorts of strange twists nd turns. As usual, he was dressed in his own curious [Qine-m ade grey c oat ; but from his little cocked-hat, /duch he wore perched over one ear in military fashion, long narrow ribbon of black crape fluttered back- wards and forwards in the wind. Around his waist he ad buckled a black sword-belt ; but instead of a sword e had stuck a long fiddle-bow into it. A creepy rudder ran through my limbs : “ He’s insane,” thought as I slowly followed them. The Councillor’s com- anions led him as far as his house, where he embraced lem, laughing loudly. They left him ; and then his THE CREMONA VIOLIN. glance fell upon me, for I now stood near him. He stared at me fixedly for some time ; then he cried in a hollow voice, “Welcome, my student-friend! you also understand it ! ” Therewith he took me by the arm and pulled me into the house, up the steps, into the room where the violins hung. They were all draped in black crape ; the violin of the old master was miss- ing ; in its place was a cypress wreath. I knew what had happened. “Antonia! Antonia!” I cried in in- consolable grief. The Councillor, with his arms crossed on his breast, stood beside me, as if turned into stone. I pointed to the cypress wreath. “When she died,” said he in a very hoarse solemn voice, “when she died, v the soundpost of that violin broke into pieces with a ringing crack, and the sound-board was split from end to end. The faithful instrument could only live w : t v ner and in her ; it lies beside her in the coffin, it has been buried with her.” Deeply agitated, I sank down upon a chair, whilst the Councillor began to sing a gay song in a husky voice ; it was Jxulv horrib le to see him hopping about on one foot, and the crape strings (he still had his hat on) flying about the room and up to the violins hanging on the walls. Indeed, I could not repress a loud cry that rose to my lips when, on the Councillor making an abrupt turn, the crape came all over me ; I fancied he wanted to envelop me in it and drag me down into the horrible dark depths of insanity. Suddenly he stood still and addressed me in his singing way, “ My son ! my son ! why do you call out ? Have you espied the angel of death ? That always precedes the ceremony.” Stepping into the middle of the room, he took the violin-bow out of his sword-belt and, holding it over his head with both hands, broke it into a thousand pieces. Then, with a loud laugh, he cried, “Now you imagine my sentence is pronounced, THE CREMONA VIOLIN. 19 don’t you, my son ? but it’s nothing of the kind — not at all ! not at all ! Now I’m free — free — free — hur- rah ! I’m free ! Now I shall make no more violins— no more violins — Hurrah ! no more violins ! ” This he sang to a horrible mirthful tune, again spinning round on one foot. Perfectly aghast, I was making the best of my way to the door, when he held me fast, saying quite calmly, “ Stay, my student friend, pray don't think from this outbreak of grief, which is tor- turing me as if with the agonies of death, that I am insane ; I only do it because a short time ago I made myself a dressing-gown in which I wanted to look like Fate or like God ! ” The Councillor then went on with a medley of silly and awful rubbish, until he fell down utterly exhausted ; I called up the old housekeeper, and was very pleased to find myself in the open air again. >