“In fact, very strong but characteristic,” Count Waldstein added.
“I have never heard anything more beautiful,” said Christopher Breuning, enthusiastically and excitedly. “It must be an entirely distinctive art-work by Mozart, or perhaps something of Haydn’s.”
Wegeler, who had regained his natural color, smiled and shook his head. “Neither Mozart nor Haydn,” said he. “The composer is a new man, and is in our midst.”
“Ah! Count Waldstein,” said Frau von Breuning with a light, graceful bow. “Do not deny it, Count. You have prepared a most pleasant surprise for us.”
“On the contrary, dear lady, I should consider myself most fortunate if I could accept your compliment,” replied Count Waldstein, “but I must reluctantly decline it. Probably we have to thank our chapelmaster for the great surprise.”
“No, no,” said the chapelmaster, “I will not adorn myself with borrowed feathers however beautiful they may be. But really, if I could accomplish such a work as this trio, I should regard myself as a pretty good artist.”
“But who can the composer be if he is neither our dear Count nor the chapelmaster?” said Frau von Breuning. “Surely you are just teasing us a little, dear Wegeler. Anyway, the composer of the trio is known by name.”
“Yes, he has a name,” said Wegeler, smiling, “but his name is not yet famous, though I have no doubt it will become so one day. The composer’s name is—Ludwig van Beethoven, and he has the honor to sit before your ladyship, at the piano.”
If a bomb had fallen into the company it could not have caused greater astonishment than Wegeler’s simple announcement. All present evidently were surprised in the highest degree. Beethoven alone sat entirely unmoved and at ease, and looked about him smilingly and unembarrassed.
“What is there to be astonished at?” he said. “I composed the entire trio to-day.”