ways from the
original, I felt more justified than formerly in attempting what seemed
rather a piece of presumption.

"After a fairly early dinner I settled down in my study about 6.30 p.m.,
determined to work right on until my task was finished.

"My success did not please me. Several times I rose and tried the score
over upon the piano. There was no doubt about it, the main ideas were
there, but still there was everything lacking. The whole affair was
weak, unworthy of my own reputation, and doubly unworthy of the great
writer who had written the Credo. Time after time I studied that
fragment, and strove to find out what it was that gave it such vigour
and force, but it was useless. That was undoubtedly the work of a great
genius, and everything I had written was nothing short of a libel upon
myself, strung together so as to be quite correct in harmony and
counterpoint, but full, nevertheless, of nothing but commonplaces.

"In thorough disgust I gave it up altogether, when suddenly I remembered
there was no Kyrie in the Service we had heard.

"A something prompted me to supply the want out of my own mind. All I
strove was to make the style blend with the Credo; in every other
respect it was perfectly original, and when finished gave me great cause
to be pleased with my own work.

"Looking at my watch I discovered it was fast getting on to midnight, so
I drew an arm-chair up to the fire and lighted a cigar. It was only
natural that my mind should be full of the music heard the previous
evening. I was no believer in the supernatural, and had unsparingly
ridiculed all ghost stories heard at various times. Now there was no
doubt: I had listened to music played by no earthly fingers. What could
it all mean? Why did the old man's ghost return to haunt the scene of
his former labours? Was it because he had left a solemn injunction which
had never been complied with? Was it because his life's purpose had been
left unfulfilled, and his last cherished wish had died with him?

"There was the solution, no doubt. And what a loss it was to the world;
only to think of so priceless a work being lost for ever!

"At this stage I was conscious of nodding, and waking up with a start,
endeavoured to pursue my train of thought. The fire was comfortable, and
my cigar was still alight; only a few moments more, and then bed. The
resolution was scarcely formed before my head dropped again and I was
fast asleep.

"How long I slept I k