t marked _andante
sostenuto_--pathos itself, and Von Barwig drew from his men their very
souls, forcing them in turn to draw out of their strings all the
suffering he had been going through for the past few days. Then a
curious psychic phenomenon took place. Von Barwig completely forgot
himself, his audience, his orchestra; he was living in his music, and the
music took him back to the precise moment of inspiration. Once more he
was in his studio, seated at his work table, looking up from his score
into the face of his beloved Elene. She was smiling at him, encouraging
him to go on with his work, the work that she had prophesied would make
him famous and her the happiest of women. This dream had almost the
appearance of reality to Von Barwig. Indeed it was real, as real as
reality itself, until the wild applause of an enthusiastic audience awoke
him alike to the consciousness of the success of his work and the
hopeless misery of his present position; his success in his music only
accentuating the failure his life had become.

The playing of this movement made such an impression that Von Barwig was
compelled again and again to acknowledge the plaudits of the audience.
Indeed, they wanted him to repeat it, but this he steadfastly refused to
do. There was a slight intermission between the playing of the first and
the second parts of the symphony, and during this pause the librarian
handed a note to Von Barwig, whispering to him, "You must read it. The
woman is outside in hysterics."

"What woman?" demanded Von Barwig, his thoughts reverting to his wife.

Trembling and fearful of he knew not what the leader read the following
hastily scrawled note:

"Come at once. The _Fraeulein_ is gone. She has been stolen away.
Please come. GRETCHEN."

Von Barwig crushed the note in his hand and looked about helplessly,
almost lurching forward in his bewilderment.

"Helene stolen? What did it mean?" He could not understand.

He knew instinctively it was time to go on with the next movement, and
that he must make an effort for the sake of others. Already there were
signs of impatience in the great audience. Slowly he stepped upon the
dais, steadying himself by means of the music-stand. He raised his
baton, his men played the opening bars, and as they did so the full
meaning of the awful news he had just read flashed upon him. He realised
suddenly that his men were no longer with him; the first violin looked up