Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1900-07-18

preached the latter for enlightenment re-
gardins the inscription he was informed
that the time had not arrived.
The 10th day Of November, 1860. was
duh. rainy day. Rossini was sitting as
usual In bis stpdy during the early morn.
Ing hours. He had been working on a
prelude for a new composition, the frss.
mentary score Of which was strswn
about on the floor, but he had given il up
In despair. He was sitting by the win.
dow, looking into the garden which sur.
rounded his house.
The drizzle of the rain and the chirp Of
the low slanting swallows impressed him
like mournful music. and 1t soothed him
to sit there and listen to 1t in quietude.
He was an old man now.
Ii seemed strange, but the more he
thought of it the more the fact impressed
him that since his meeting with the
matchmaker he never had been truly hap
py or contented.
The drizzle Of the autumn rain and the
chirp of the swallows wove themselves
into music, and as he listened he seemed
to distinguish some OF his own music in
1t. A few strains only that died away,
and then again it was only drl1zle, drix.
Gle and chirp. chirp, and then the lost
strains came again and foated through
the somber drizzling and plaintlve chirp-
Ing. and before he knew il the music of
the prayer in Moses" was plainly audi
Bile.
With a choked shrek the old master
jumped to his feet. He snatched the
watch from his pocket. Michel Plivee's
masterpiece was playing OF itself. Hu-
man hand had not touched II!
A few minutes afterward messenger
called at the study to deliver letter and
found the old master In q swoon. When
he recovered and saw whom the note was
from. he told those who attended him to
leave the room. He then read the fol-
lowing letter:
Honorsd Mastsr-Now 70 the time. Come to ray
house at midnight and shall tell you the vA!a.
able aaing Of the eiphers Q. 81. 81. Kind 70
gnriA Your obedient servant.
MICHEL ptiy,s
Rossini opened the window and shouted
for the messenger. The boy heard him
and returned.
.Is Signor Plivee ill?" asked the mas
ter.
No, stgnur. he is well.
Then tell him | shall be with him a:
the appointed time"
The mysterious appointment ut the
hour OF midnight and the possibility OF
the fulhllment Of desire he had nourish
ed for so many years combined to raise
the nervous temper OF the old master 10
its highest pitch. He attempted to short
en- the hours By playing. He could not
play to suit himself, lie could neither
read nor write. and he would not talk or
partakc Of food. All day and all evening
the Wizard of Pesaro' could be heard
pacing about in his lonely study.
As the cathedral chimes struck IL Ros-
SIM knocked at the door Of P!ivee's house.
A pale, tear stained face looked out.
Moaning and weeping sounded Within
My God. What's happened" cried
the artist.
Reineau. the celebrated physician
came to the door and said: Only n few
minutes ago Signor Plivec. our beloved
host, was sitting among US. bale and
hearty. Suddenly he had heart stroke
and fell from his chair. crying. The ci-
phers-the ciphers. His death was in
Simultaneous. | do not know what he
meant by the ciphers. Do you:'
The news so shocked the impressiona-
bic composer that he almost tainted.
When he was questioned as to the cause
Of his late visit, he shrewdly avoided an
explanation. for he was seized by the fear
that the inscription would bring him only
distress and unhappiness.
Il never want 10 hear another word
about him." he told his wife. who anx-
iously awaited his return. These fig
ures mean DEATH"
From that day Rossini put the costly
timepecc away in his dressing chest and
in its place wore common watch. He
declined to give his wife permission to
obtain some clew from Plivee's widow
regarding the probable existence Of pa
pers containing the key 10 the solving Of
the figures. and he made every effort to
forget the matter.
Fight years passed. Gioachino An
tonic Rossini was on his deathbed The
passing away OF the great artist was
gradual and slow. Step by step he was
sinking into the arms OF death. But
there were moments when he reused
himself. as it were. to consciousness.
On the last morning several letters
from friends and relatives arrived con
tanning encouraging messages for the old
master. While his wife was occupied
in reading them for him Rossini discov-
cred among the many dainty cards aud
envelopes u large envelope addressed TO
him personally. Seized by an inexplica-
bic and marvellous fright and horror he
whispered with parched lips; What is
this? Quick-look and see what il isl"
But before Sgnora Rossini could open
the envelope the old composer sat up
stiff on his pillows. His lips moved
without emitting a sound. his eyes glar-
ed dreadfully, and he motioned his wife
to listen.
There! Michel Plivee's masterpiece,
which for years had been locked up in
the dressing chest, was playing. 1t play
ed new melody, the aria 'Di tamil
palpiti" Human hand had not touch
ed it,
Signora Rossini was stricken with ter