The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1878-02-07
"Then | choose to hear the music first

twisted off, he led me across the passage
and into his chamber. There wa:
nothing there but bed, a chair, table
three or four musical instruments, and
the sublime musical-bOx.
Monsieur charms me with his con
descensions," said my conductor.
I" l hope you will believe" l replied
"that am honored to be invited here VI
He wentover to the little table, drew 6
key from his pocket wound up the box
and placed his hand or a crank. Then
looking at me with infinite pleasure, he
said | should now hear the Sophie
Valse," by Strauss.
1t was rapturous. Conceive a grand
piano, played by master, every note
robbed of that harshness and acute force
which are inseparable from it upon ar
instrument of the kind; imagine an
orchestra of fairies; imagine anything
likely to hold you entranced for hours,
and you may obtain faint idea of the
music produced by my neighbor's box
When the piece was finished, | fell upon
his neck, He patted me on the shoulder
and said had soul.
You must breakfast with me-" | re-
turned What is your name?'
Wolfgang Mozart d'Aubepine," he
answered proudly.
"Then, Monsieur Wolfgang Mozart
d'Aubepine, permit me to have the
honor"
"AIas." he returned, struggling hi.
shoulders, a have already breakfasted.'
To refuse seemed to break his heart.
We'll, / will call on you during the
day-probably this evening"
"Come in the twilight; then you shall
hear the Tempest of the Heart"
81 swear I will not disappoint you'll
thus melo dramatically | left him.
When evening came, presented my
self at his door, and was greeted enthusi-
astically. Come in; come in" cried
NJ. d Aubepine.
How rapidly had our friendship grown
When we met now only for the second
time in our lives, we seemed to have
known each other for years. As for NJ.
d Aubepine, he was one of those men
you cannot help liking. His manner
was so full of artlessness and simplicity,
his nature so impulsive and poetical, |
could have sworn fidelity SO him on the
slot.
We went into the room together and
sat down.
You are devoted to music?" | said,
glancing at the instrument hanging on
the wall.
It's my existence!' he replied.
Do you perform the viOlin?"
"Ah, Monsieur, only in inauguration
You behold a real Straduarius; but
faith has ordained that | shall never
wake its chords"
Indeed" exclaimed, deeply inter
ested.
"ToO, true, unfortunately. Bat do
not press me | beg. There are wound:
in the heart that never heal; touch them
and they bleed afresh.''
His utterance claimed my instant
sympathy. I besought him to believe
that | should not recall such sad mem.
cries again.
"Ah, my friend" said he, "your
goodness OverpOwers me. To a man
whose past is bitterness, whose future is
a blank, what can be sweeter than sym
pathy like yours"
Then, to change the subject, | began tc
talk of travels. We compared our expert
ences, and | found that NJ. d'Aubepine
had seen nearly every part of the world
He was full of anecdote and description,
and | could have listened to him forever
Our interview lasted over two hours
When be arose to 60, he said, "You
have not yet heard my box this evening
May | set it going?'
at you will favor me Monsieur,
will be delighted"
He wound it up, and touched the
crank, when solemnly aud slowly, pealed
forth that magnificent air, Tempest OF
the Heart" Tears came into my eyes
and my whole being was subdued
While the wonderful melody was yet
lingering in my ears, | pressed my com
panion's hand, and retired
From this night dated the singula,
intimacy which existed between Us
until the catastrophe occurred which il
to form the climax of my narrative.
spent hours and hours daily with NJ
dAubepine, always with pleasure anc
always with profit.
In this manner passed the rapid weeks
when one evening as we were sitting in
the dark, with the door closed, | heard {
sigh escape from my friends breast that
panied me beyond expression.
"Gou are melancholy" | said.
=" / pray you will not let it trouble
YOU" he answered.
=" But under the circumstances of oul
friendship, there is no help for it," I re-
joined. Il hehold you suffer, and it
grieves me to be able to afford no relief, y
"Our friendship? Yes; you have beer
devoted to me, Monsieur, and | am truly
grateful"
1.-The best proof of that will be to LET
me hear your SORROWS" was nay reply.
"Would that might be allowed tc
breathe them forth in the melody of that
violin! But it must not be-"
| thought | perceived in his tone s
very slight, though unmistakable, invi
tation to further scrutiny into his Sc
crets, and l promptly began to press him
Finally, he answered, Il am politica
exil,.'
" You have risked your life in return
ing to France"
Yes. Three weeks ago | set nv
foot on the pavements of Paris, for the
first time in fifteen years. | found my
friends dead, my home desolate, myself
hopelessly ruined. You, Monsieur, an
Englishman, know the blessings of lib
erty. Would you not die rather than
lose it?"
g l would perish at my freside," ]
exclaimed, rising in my seat, in de.
fence of my sacred rights"
" What then do you think when you
look across the sea and behold so many
nations in chains?"
"What do you Think" | demanded.
" A thousand times l have been upon
the point of springing to their aid
Should France rise, at the moment, when
the tocsin sounded | should seize nv
musket and fly to the streets"
" You would bare your breast to
guard poor, abused France" cried NJ.
d Aubepine, pacing the room in an &C.
stacy of delight
g Yes | replied, in tones that rang
through the room. Yes, l would be
L.