e so young, and something in the boy's
far-away look had touched his heart and tempted him to disobey the
stringent command which he had received not to converse with the
little writer. Even now, as he was descending the stairs, he felt
almost like a criminal in leaving the boy locked in his room without a
word of comfort or encouragement, and he was half inclined to turn
back on some excuse to speak with the prisoner and inquire how he
felt. At that moment, however, the ringing of a distant bell summoned
him to his master's presence.

[Illustration: MOZART.
From photo RISCHGITZ.]

Archbishop Sigismund was pacing to and fro in the dining-room when his
servant entered, his forehead puckered with a frown, and his eyes
fixed on the carpet. But he at once checked himself in his walk, and,
turning to Hans, said abruptly: 'Have you taken the child his food?'
'Yes, your Grace,' was the reply. 'And--er--how did he seem--well,
eh?' 'Quite well, your Grace.' 'You are sure of that?' a trifle
anxiously. 'Perfectly sure, your Grace,' replied the old man, though
he would have liked to have added a word as to his doubts concerning
the child's happiness; but the Archbishop dismissed him with a wave of
the hand, and, turning away, seated himself at the breakfast-table.

* * * * *

Several floors above that on which Archbishop Sigismund was eating his
breakfast the little captive sat patiently toiling at his allotted
task. In a sense the old man was right; for the test was as severe a
one as the mind of a man who was a good judge of music, and who
doubted the truth of what he had heard concerning his little captive's
astonishing genius, could well have devised. The boy was required to
set to music the first part of a sacred cantata founded upon the
'First and greatest Commandment'--'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God
with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and
with all thy strength' (Mark xii. 30). The Archbishop fully realised
the magnitude of the test, and he expected failure--he looked for the
child to break down. The time allotted for its fulfilment was one
week, at the expiration of which he would find a few boyish attempts
at composition, and nothing more.

And why was Archbishop Sigismund so desirous of testing the boy's
powers of composition? A short time before the date at which our story
opens Leopold Mozart, Vice-Capellmeister at the Archbishop's court,
had