New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1917-04-22
The EvOcatiOn
Translated by W. l.. Mcpherson

evening, carrying with us our Irlehu
n IIrbain. who had bullet wound in his
breaSt. had suffered but little from the battle.
Some shells had smashed the roofs and dam
aged the portico-the result Of short but vio-
lent encounter in the park and the adjoining
woods. Our zouaves had driven out OF the
buildine the staff of a German division. But
the Bavarians, the night before, had hastily re-
moved all the rich and costly furniture. we
wandered through the empty rooms, and hnaiiy
gave orders to set up the stretcher in salon
on the first floor.
In the middle of the room-the single piece
Of furniture left intact by some miracle
stood a piano, a grand piano, isolated IN TINS
white silence like huge sarcophagus IN EBONY
The brutes had neither carried 1t away nor
demolished it. Seeing it, my heart Jumped
Thought of those collins draped in black which
ave left in the middle Of a room before the
bodv IS to be taken away, and cast strange
Glance at moor Lieutenant Urban, my brother
IN arms whom our comrades had deposited IN
corner. arranging his improvised couch by
the light of dull lantern. He was llvid. his
shirt was stained with blood And felt my
self assailed by a nameless fear as turned
NV ewes from the wounded man to the huge
instrument in the middle Of the room, wnich
locked for all the world like a gloomy, glitter
ing sepulehre.
We seated ourselves at Urbain's bedside
Lieutenant Fleury and mysef-resolved to
await the arrival of the surgeon-maJor Fleury
was big fellow, genial and gay. In civil
lac no was a composer and a pianist Of
biob reputation. At Chateau Thierry, before
the departure of our regiment, he Delighted
our circle by playing the Allied national hymns
and all the other martial and patriotic airs
which were demanded. For those who loved
music he played the classics. But this evening
he was as sad as was, and as harassed and
weary: and he walked past the big piano with
a look of indifference.
The major finally came, examined our triend
at length, and took off and replaced the Dand-
AGES. Then he shook his head understood
He led me aside and told me that there was
very little hope, but that he would remain with
rs. being as well off there as anywhere eise'
We were then, the three of us, in that vast
room. all white and empty, between an inert
wounded man on the one side and, on the other
that huge. black piano. whose presence Shere
SNS6NSN~N
aoination something fantastic and fatal.
certain time passed. We did not sleep
hut we remained rigid and stupehed. Sud
denly we heard Urbain's voice-a voice trans
formed and softened, which seemed to come
from a distance.
Are you there, Fleury?" ..uy
We were startled. Fleury answered:
ayes. I am herewith Fresnel and the
major. What is it,"
"Fleurv." said Urban, 'listen ! wish
wish that you would go to the piano and play
something"
"You are foolish, my dear fellow" replied
Fleury. forcing an accent Of gayety. fou
need to get some sleep. l will play you all the
music you want when you are convalescent'
81 shall never be convalescent. Listen to
mel And YOU three, all of you, listen to me!
have a fiancee at home, in Anjou. Her name
is Fanny. She is pretty, she is good she is
very intelligent. She lives in chateau like
this. and in the big, white salon there is a
grand piano, Just like this one. She plays de-
lightfully on summer evenings. There are
three or four of us, and the light is DIM Play
for me. Fleury! shall see her. / shall be
again in her house; / shall be with her. Play
me something which she plays. will tell you
what 70 play Do this for me. You have al
ways been obgng Do it."
We shuddered. The major murmured:
'You may play. There is no hope for him"
~ Fleury got up and opened the piano, and
Urban said TO him, breathlessly:
Thanks. Come and shake my hand. You
are a true friend. Now play the Chopin etude
in la-you know it, don't your"
And in the oppressive silence Of this cham
Der of agony began the strangest and most
sinister concert that could be imagined. BY
the unsteady light of the lantern saw tleurys
face, very pale and grave. He played as If he
were at prayer-as, doubtless, he had never
played before in all his life. And little by
little the magic of the harmony mastered US.
We forgot everything-time, place reality
death. About that piano we were friends as
sembled for an intimate reunion.
When the artist had finished, Urban, from
the depths Of the shadow spoke again:
81 see her. She is herewith us. Play
again. She knows, as you do, Schumann's
'Papillons' Don't make a protest, Fleury.
Don't tell me that he was German. He was
a pure and sane genius. Let me hear it again,
as in Anjou on those summer evenings, before
| die. No, don't tell me that l am not going
70 die. ! know it, / feel it. Don't tell me
anything, but play
And Fleury, trembling, played Schumann's