New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1917-11-25
klTNO BE no longer alone-st last!
To have you with me for
little while"


Seated at his wife's feet, Jacques
Nancy gazed up at her tenderly. She
had arrived, two days before. in the
little village in the Vosges where
Jacques lived, behind the front, while
his regiment had its respite from
frst-line duty. Enrsptured, he kissed
the tips Of her slender fingers or con-
templated her adorable face, rose-col-
ored as a fuchsia beneath her black
/ hair braids.
Darling" she said, with caressine
;ouch on his shoulder, lit is really
charming here-this room hung with
cretonne, the view over the fringed
fl: trees, and, in the garden, all the
roses blooming so unconsciously I'M
Ger this tragic sky"
/ More than that, Laura. Every
/ evening the serenade of the 9oche can
non. 1t is intermission time just
now"
She looked about her. Then he
added:
81 am especially pleased that you
have a piano"
And, certainly. for a young COM
poser. the use of piano is an in
tinitely precious thing.
evertheless, | hardly ever open
/ it, he answered. NOW, with you
here, this beautiful night in June. I
/ am going TO play little in your
honor. ! am going to crown you with
Parland of harmony"
Quickly taken with the idea, he arose
opened the piano. and awakened the
soul of its sororous keyboard. The
resonance of the chords travelled in
swelling waves out into the balmy
night, itself immobile as lake of ST.
/ lence. Cherishing her husbands ar,
and devoted to his fame. Laura listened
with eager attention.
/ First came some arpeggos. with
liquid notes, as if to prove the supple
/ ness of the players fingers and the
| docility of the instrument. Then a
melody appeared, trembled, hesitated
became defined, and, suddenly, sure OF
/ itself, rolled forth robustly, with many
nuances-a musical creation. born in
this night of tenderness. which seemed
to live and pulsate, all armed to capt
ure the hearts and thrill the nerves OF
the multitude
Laura grew pale with excitement as
she listened.
She expected an improvisation. facile
and brilliant. But her musical ear de-
tected in Jacques's composition a new
quality, On accent of profundity, hith-
erto unheard, the sacred touch of the
n he 4 A
An inspiration dominated the young
composer. A god was there. invisible
and glowing, teaching him an original
harmony, high and pure On the edge
OF the field of battle. in the presence Of
Death and Love, genius was visiting
the young musician Outside the deep
night seemed to listen also. with its
nightingales and its roses.
And jacques, self-absorbed. felt
mounting in him, like a mysterious
fountain jet, lavish and ardent in.
splration. Speeches., he vibrated to
the melody which came from his fingers
and his heart. All the passionate
sweetness Of the hour. the presence OF
his beautiful wife, the force of the
Heroic Life were translated into his
music. 1t equalled the work Of the
masters. II would gain immortality.
Suddenly the cannon Numbered again
three. ten, twenty shots. The air
was filled with terrific conclusions
Jacques murmured:
They are beginning to lombard the
Fontaine-le-Prince Road. over which
our supply conveys pass
And. with q sonorous fortissimo. he
dominated the noise OF the lombard
ment. To the aniorous andante sue
ceeded tempest of sumptuous sccords
and, with a burst of lyricisn, the
sonata completed itself like a trumpet
cry.
Jacques sprang from his chair. Laura
grasped his hands. He said, almost
breathlessly:
at was beautiful, wasn't il? Never
until tonight have had the gertrude
Of having composed a real work II
needs only a transition passage. | feel
it-so perfect. so pure, Yet have A
deadly fear that shall not be able 10
put it into music
you will be able" she answered
fervently. while listening TO you I
watched, there, on your right, that
rising star. It is your star, Jacques
NO; you are my STAR said jacques.
81 feel that | shall succeed because !
am sustained by your tenderness. And
I dedicate to you my Sonata TO the
Star But l am exhausted. ! am
going tc sleep for a few hours. When
| awake I shall write out my compost
ton. Laura, am very happy"
Throwing himself on d divan, he fell
asleep.
Some one knocked on the door. Noise
lesslv Laura opened IL. She recognized
a sergeant, a friend of her husbands.
"Is Lieutenant Nancy here, madame ~
"He IS asleep. But | am his wife"
81 recognize you now, madame. Here
is an urgent message for the lleuten-
ant He is TO carry it 70 Captain Berger,
at the place indicated"
The man saluted and went away.
Laura looked at the address. Captain
Berger was at Fontaine-le-Prince.
She gave a shudder.
Her husband had shown her the
clock tower of that village and the road
which led 70 it-an unsheltered ROAD
which the shells were even now rid
ding with holes. The evening before
three messengers mad been killed on
this road. and nov Jacques, in his turn,
was 70 travel over II.
frightful panic seized the young
wife. With her fear for her. husoands
safety another thought mingled:
And the sonata?
That work, the first work born OF ms
genius, an immortal message OF art 70
men, And the melodic inspiration
perfect and pure, which he felt work-
ing in him? Ought ne TO 60. RISK ms
life. die and leave nothing behind him
Thinking of his danger. she vas
1t - a.rociouS anguish No,