at him panic stricken. He sawed the air wildly as he felt the great
audience surging around him and his orchestra swaying to and fro. Then
he reeled, stumbled, clutching at the music-stand for support; and fell
face forward upon the floor.

* * * * * *

Some six weeks later loving friends had gently nursed him back to life
and reason. It was slow work, but Von Barwig weathered the point of
death and sailed slowly into the harbour of life. As he grew stronger,
he realised by degrees all that had happened. One day he called for his
beloved Poons, but they did not dare to tell him that his faithful friend
was dead; the shock of that night had brought on a stroke from which
Poons never recovered. When they did tell him long afterward, he only
smiled, shook his head sadly, and said, "Why not? All is gone! Why
should my old friend remain to me?"

When Von Barwig was strong enough he took the train to Berlin and
consulted with the police authorities in reference to the whereabouts of
his lost wife and child; but they had left no trace behind them except an
indication that they had passed through Paris on their way to some
unknown destination. He called on Mr. Cruger, the American Ambassador,
who could throw no light on the subject. A search of the steamship lists
failed to reveal their whereabouts; and at last, though Anton Von Barwig
felt that they were hopelessly lost to him, he returned to Leipsic, more
than ever determined to find them. It was the only idea he had: to find
them--to find them--to find them. His other thoughts were without
stimulating power--irresolute, vague, uncertain. This one idea grew and
grew until it became an obsession. He could no longer bear the sound of
music; so it was no sacrifice to him to give up his profession. He hated
the very streets he walked in, for had Elene not walked in them? He must
find her; he must find his child. He could hear the little girl calling
for him, he kept telling himself. It was his only duty, his only object
and mission in life; so it became an ideal, a religion. But where to go,
where to go? Finally, he made up his mind to leave Leipsic for Paris and
start from there. One day, after living in Paris for some months, the
idea occurred to him to go to America, the place of the man's birth. A
week later he packed up all his effects and took passage on a steamer
sailing for the port of New York.

Chapter Four