-descended
into the heart of the poor German, and he himself was the first to
address Lavretzky.

XXII

He began to talk of music, of Liza, then again of music. He seemed,
somehow, to utter his words more slowly when he spoke of Liza. Lavretzky
turned the conversation on his compositions, and, half in jest, proposed
to write a libretto for him.

"H'm, a libretto!"--rejoined Lemm:--"no, that is beyond me: I have not
that animation, that play of fancy, which is indispensable for an opera;
I have already lost my powers.... But if I could still do something,--I
would be satisfied with a romance; of course, I should like some good
words...."

He relapsed into silence, and sat for a long time motionless, with his
eyes raised heavenward.

"For example," he said at last:--"something of this sort: 'Ye stars, O ye
pure stars'?"...

Lavretzky turned his face slightly toward him and began to stare at him.

"'Ye stars, ye pure stars,'"--repeated Lemm.... "'Ye gaze alike upon the
just and upon the guilty ... but only the innocent of heart,'--or
something of that sort ... 'understand you,' that is to say, no,--'love
you.' However, I am not a poet ... how should I be! But something in that
style, something lofty."

Lemm pushed his hat back on the nape of his neck; in the delicate gloom
of the light night, his face seemed whiter and more youthful.

"'And ye also,'"--he went on, with a voice which gradually grew
quieter:--"'ye know who loves, who knows how to love, for ye are pure,
ye, alone, can comfort.'... No, that's not right yet! I am not a
poet,"--he said:--"but something of that sort...."

"I regret that I am not a poet,"--remarked Lavretzky.

"Empty visions!" retorted Lemm, and huddled in the corner of the calash.
He closed his eyes, as though preparing to go to sleep.

Several moments elapsed.... Lavretzky listened.... "'Stars, pure stars,
love,'"--the old man was whispering.

"Love,"--Lavretzky repeated to himself, became thoughtful, and his soul
grew heavy within him.

"You have written some very beautiful music for 'Fridolin,' Christofor
Feodoritch,"--he said aloud:--"and what think you; did that Fridolin,
after the Count had led him to his wife, become her lover--hey?"

"That is what you think,"--returned Lemm: "because, probably,
experience...." He suddenly fell silent, and turned away in confusion.
Lavretzky laughed in a constrained way, turned away also, and beg