to the open air. The oppression amounted to actual
physical pain. Presently I thought I could hear the notes of a solemn
hymn floating on the air; it grew more distinct, and I made out male
voices singing a choral. 'What's this, what's this,' I cried, as it
pierced through my heart like a dagger stab. 'Don't you see, sir?' said
the postillion, walking beside me, 'it's a funeral going on in the
churchyard.' We were, in fact, close to the cemetery, and I saw a
circle of people in black assembled by a grave, which was bring filled
in. The tears came to my eyes. I frit as if somehow all the happiness
and joy of my life bring buried in that grave. I had been descending
the hill pretty quickly, so that I could not now see into the cemetery.
The choral ceased, and I saw, near the gate, black-dressed men coming
away from the funeral. The Professor with his niece on his arm, both in
deep mourning, passed close to me without noticing me. The niece had
her handkerchief at her eyes' and was sobbing bitterly. I felt I could
not go into the town; I sent my servant with the carriage to the usual
hotel, and walked into the well-known country to try if I could shake
off the strange condition I was in, which I ascribed to physical
causes, being overheated and tired with my journey, etc. When I reached
the alley which leads to the public gardens, I saw a most extraordinary
sight--Krespel, led along by two men in deep mourning, whom he seemed
to be trying to escape from by all sorts of extraordinary leaps and
bounds. He was dressed, as usual, in his wonderful grey coat of his own
making; but from his little three-cornered hat, which he had cocked
over one ear in a martial manner, hung a very long, narrow streamer of
black crape, which fluttered playfully in the breeze. Round his waist
he had buckled a black sword-belt, but instead of a sword he had stuck
into it a long fiddle bow.

"The blood ran cold in my veins. 'He has gone quite mad,' I said as I
followed them slowly.

"They took him to his own door, where he embraced them, laughing loud.
They left him, and then he noticed me. He stared at me in silence for a
considerable time; then he said, in a mournful, hollow voice:

"'Glad to see you, Master Student, _you_ know all about it.' He seized
me by the arm, dragged me into the house, and upstairs to the room
where the violins hung. They were all covered with crape, but the
masterpiece by the unknown maker was not in its place, a wreath