The Ravalli Republican., 1898-09-28

me2 Why, it's the chance of my
lifetimel WILL aren't you going to
grip.my hande"
He was SO overcome that he hard
ly noticed I sat like a stone. He
went on whispering rapturously to
himself: "~=
Tomorrow night 7 must write
and tell her this. Why, the solo-l
can play it. She must be there
Will, listcn-you must h3ar it It
goes like this!'
He caught up his violin. l see
| him now as he stood that night,
hear that downward sweep of his
bow across the strings, full of con-
scious triumph-that one quivering
chord, no more. / was on my feet,
terrible passion passing through
me. Every word Of his had been a
stab. Each seemed to carry Lottie
farther and farther from me-
struck out at him-at Chris, the
man who had made mo love him
like a brother-and the savage blow
caught the rim Of his beloved in
strument and sent it spinning across
the room. Near the door it fell
with sickoning crash and lay
there-Wrecked
Yes. Next minute, when realiz-
ed and would have given years of
my life to spare Chris that blow, l
crept across and picked up the vio-
lin. The finger board had snapped
in two, and the body of it was stove
in like al eggshell.
ooh, Christ" | Whimpered, one
shaking hand put out But he did
not stir His body was stiff. Only his
face worked convulsively. Take
n1ine-take everything I've got!" L
said in an agony OF apprehension:
then.
One dry sob came, then shiver,
then he groped his way past me like
a blind man. Listening as for my
life, heard him mount slowly up
to our bedroom and lock the door
on the inside. Then one stifed
moan and no more.
ALL that night l sat in a fever Of
shame and suspense, and the door
above had not: opened, Several
times I had crept up and implored,
him to let me in, but not a sound
had come. What was he doing:,
Save myself, no one on earth knew
how he had priced that old violin
what it's loss meant for him. What
would happon2 When morning
came, I could do nothing but ask
our landla(y not to disturb him and
wait on. Afternoon came, and still
the same silence overhead. And
then, just about 6 O'Clock, I went
hot at the recollection of that con-
cert at the Grand hail. The chance
of his lifetime he had called it. If.
he failet--no, he should not fail!
The widest of ideas had flashed
across me. Chris and were not SO
unlike in appearance, and, heaven
helping me, | might
went up and knocked once again.
No answer. Clearly if it was to be.
done there was no time to hesitate.
Seven: O CLOCK, no Chris. Half past
z. had dressed carefully, chosen
an effective solo that I knew by
heart, taken one Of Chris' cards and
stood waiting Oh the last chance A
quarter to S, and that door remained
locked. Five minutes later I had
callod a cab and was on my way to
the Grand hall.
Irecollect asking for the manager
and handing him that card, but the
rest seemed afterWard like a dream.
Scores Of times I had played in pub
lie, but always with a nervousness
that had marred my performance.
It was gone now. | remember that
when, about half past 8, faced that
great, critical audience as Chris Ca
rev was as cool and confident as
though my success had been assured
for years: 10 play as I had never
played before-to carry homo news
of a triumph to Chris
And, with the vision of him sit
ting at home there always before
me, I played that night-well, as
Chris himself would have done.
The moment the prelude had ended
l was sure of myself. Never had
my fingers seemed SO supple: Never
had my bow responded SO lovingly
to the emotions that. possessed me-.
Idid not need to wait for the buzz
Of applause to know that ''Chris
Carew" had justified his engage
ment remembered afterward that
the manager had shaken hands with
me and said something about good
notice in the morning papers, but
the first thing I recollected clearly
was trying the handle Of the door
at home and whispering eagerly,
"Chris, old man! Chrisr'