“If you wish I will inquire,” said the other lady; “but the quickest and easiest way would be to enter the chapel and see for ourselves.”
“No, no, dear,” said the first lady, about to turn away. “Those truly heavenly sounds have put me in an exalted mood, which I would not have disturbed. Let us go on. Perhaps we may learn in the morning who this extraordinary artist is, and the occasion of his performance.” With these words the lady turned into a denser and more shadowy part of the park, and her companion followed her without further suggestion.
Father Mozart and his family left the chapel about the same time and happened to go in the same direction. They intended to return to the village and look after the carriage, but not being familiar with the labyrinthine windings of the park, which were made still more confusing by high rows of yews and beeches here and there, they soon lost their way, and after wandering about aimlessly for half an hour they at last stood helpless. “It is too bad that we cannot find our way out,” said Father Mozart, with some uneasiness. “The whole park is deserted; there is not a person to be seen anywhere.”
“Oh, yes, father, there is!” exclaimed Wolfgang, whose sharp eyes saw everything, even through the foliage of the hedges. “Look there, father! Two beautiful ladies! They can tell us and set us right if they only will. I will go and ask them.” No sooner said than done. In his usually bold, informal way, he ran up to the ladies, greeted them courteously, and said in German: “Beautiful ladies, will you have the goodness to tell me where we really are?”
The ladies, one of them in particular, who was of exceptionally distinguished presence, at first seemed displeased with his boldness; but when her eyes rested upon the pretty boy, who was accosting her so familiarly, she smiled and replied, also in German, “In the park of Choissy, my little one. You ought to have known that.”
“Oh, yes, I know that,” answered Wolfgang, “but the park is so big and has so many walks, and they cross and recross so often, that we can’t find our way back to the village whence we came.”
“Oh, that is another thing,” said the lady, kindly. “You are now on the right way. Go down that walk there and you will find Choissy on your left. But tell me who you are, and how you come to be so far away from Germany.”
He greeted them courteously, and said: “Beautiful ladies, will you have the goodness to tell me where we really are?”
“I am Wolfgang Mozart,” he replied, looking as important as possible, “and these are my dear parents, and the little girl is my sister Nannerl. We are on our way to Paris, where Nannerl and I are to play before the King and Queen.”