“What is it?” said his father, just as softly.
“I should like to make another concert trip, father,” said Wolfgang. “I cannot tell you how eager I am to get out into the great world.”
“Good, my child,” replied his father, with a smile of satisfaction; “this is a happy coincidence. We have the same wish, for I have already decided to undertake another trip.”
“And where, father?” asked Wolfgang, excitedly.
“To Paris!”
“To Paris!” shouted the lad. “Oh, that is beautiful, the beautiful thing I have dreamed of so often. Let us go as soon as it is convenient. You may be sure I will do my best when we get to the great city.”
His father promised the journey should be made as soon as possible. The company again assembled at the table that they might congratulate him upon his good fortune. They ate and drank, chatted and laughed, expressing wishes for a happy trip and a successful future, until evening came, and the joyous party separated to meet at some other time. All went home delighted, and Father Mozart most delighted of all over this newly discovered talent of his son, which justified the brightest hopes for his future.
Chapter VI
In Paris
A carriage was driven along at a quick trot toward Paris one hot summer’s day, and had just reached the village of Choissy, when the careless coachman drove over a rock and upset the vehicle. There was an outcry of alarm from the inside. The door was forced open, and four persons crawled out, one after another, and stood around the wreck in dismay. They are old acquaintances—Herr Vice Chapelmaster Mozart, his wife and children.
“Well, this is a pretty business,” said Father Mozart, indignantly. “Here we are, hardly two hours away from Paris, upset in a wretched village, and, worst of all, with broken axletrees. We are expected at an early hour this evening by Count Van Eyck, the Bavarian ambassador, and now we cannot get there before late at night.”