Seizing Sebastian roughly by the arm, he loudly demanded,—
"What do you mean by stealing my pieces, and trying to learn them behind my back, so that the town can laugh at me when you perform?"
"Steal! Laugh!" echoed Sebastian blankly, unable to comprehend his brother's meaning.
"Don't pretend to be innocent! You can't hoodwink me any longer, my young cub. I'll see that nothing like this occurs again."
"What have I done, Christoff? I don't know what you mean."
"You stole my book that I copied at Arnstadt, taking pains to lay hold of it while I was safe at Gotha."
"I didn't steal it," returned Sebastian horrified.
"You didn't? What do you call your going into my room, taking music without my permission, and practising it while I am out of town?"
"I didn't suppose you would care a bit. I thought if I learned one or two of Pachelbel's fugues, it would be a nice surprise for you when you came back from Gotha."
"A nice surprise! Ha, ha! Ho, ho! I suppose that next time I go from home for a week you will surprise me by pilfering the contents of my money-drawer."