t powdered and silken assembly. The
Court applauded him, but they were astonished and slightly disappointed,
for they had expected something grand and complicated, and not
three simple tunes. But the nobleman who had educated Franz, and his
Kapellmeister, who were among the guests, wept tears in silence.

"Albrecht followed him. The swarthy singer sat down to the instrument
and struck a ringing chord. He had a pure and infinitely powerful tenor
voice, clear as crystal, loud as a clarion, strong, rich, and rippling.
He sang a love-song he had composed himself. He called it 'The Homage of
King Pan to the Princess.' It was voluptuous and vehement and sweet
as honey, full of bold conceits and audacious turns and trills, which
startled the audience and took their breath away. He sang his song with
almost devilish skill and power; and his warm, captivating voice rang
through the room and shook the tall window-panes, and finally died away
like the vibrations of a great bell. The whole Court shouted, delirious
with applause, and unanimously declared him to be the victor. A witty
courtier said that Marsyas had avenged himself on Apollo; but the
nobleman and his Kapellmeister snorted and sniffed and said nothing.
Albrecht was given the prize and appointed Kapellmeister to the Court
without further discussion.

"When the ceremony was over, Franz, who was indifferent to his defeat,
went to the chapel of the palace, and lighting a candle, walked up into
the organ loft. There he played to himself another song, a hymn he had
composed in honour of Princess Kunigmunde. It was filled with rapture
and a breathless wonder, and in it his inmost soul spoke its unuttered
love. He had not sung this song in public, it was too sacred. As
he played and sang to himself in a low voice he was aware of a soft
footstep. He started and looked round, and there was the Princess,
bright in silk and jewels, with a pink rose in her powdered hair. She
took this rose and laid it lightly on the black keys.

"'That is the prize,' she said. 'You won it, and I want to thank you. I
never knew music could be so beautiful.'

"Franz looked at her, and said 'Thank you.' He had risen from his
seat and was about to go, but the light of his candle caught Princess
Kunigmunde's brown eyes (which were wet with tears), and something
rose like fire in his breast and made him forget his bashfulness, his
respect, and his sense of decorum.

"'Come with me,' he said, in a br