rse, the name of Bauquel?" inquired Degraux abruptly.

"A great genius, Monsieur." In spite of Papa Peron's hostile verdict,
the younger musician had a great reverence for the celebrated
violinist, who was a popular favourite in every European capital.

The director snapped his fingers, and indulged in an angry
exclamation. "Not the genius that he thinks himself, not the genius
his friends pretend he is. He is very astute on the business side, has
worked his Press well, and always maintains a vigilant _claque_. I and
people like myself have helped him very considerably also by taking
him at his face valuation. Genius, certainly not; at any rate, not a
great genius."

Monsieur Degraux snapped his fingers more contemptuously, and reeled
off the names of a few rivals. "Those are geniuses if you like,
artists who disclaim his clap-trap methods."

Nello felt uncomfortable and apprehensive. The irate director was
evidently so occupied with the subject of the offending Bauquel that
Mr. Gay's letter stood in danger of being forgotten. And the great man
had especially said that his time was short.

"Monsieur Bauquel has had the misfortune to incur your displeasure,
sir?" he hazarded.

"I should think he had," cried Degraux furiously. "He was to appear at
my great concert next week; Royalty and the elite of London will be
there. Two days ago we had a little tiff, in which I admit I told him
some home truths. What happens? This morning I receive a letter, dated
from Brighton, in which he throws me over. Pretends he is ill and that
his doctor has ordered a complete rest."

"And you do not believe this to be true, Monsieur?"

"True!" thundered Degraux. "An absolute lie. A friend of mine writes
me at the same time from the Grand Hotel. He tells me that the
so-called invalid is staying there with a rowdy party and looking the
picture of health. The scoundrel has done it to put me in a corner.
And what is to become of my concert? I cannot put my hand on a
violinist of the first rank in the few days left me."

Nello stood up, his face glowing, his limbs trembling with excitement.
He pointed to Gay's letter, which lay on the director's desk.

"Monsieur, I beseech you, if it is not too great presumption, to let
me take his place. I may not make a sensation, but certainly I shall
not be a failure. And you will have so many stars of the first
magnitude, that a smaller one may dare to give a little light. You
have read what Mr. G