Sebastian eagerly raised his head.
"He won't think me a thief any longer?"
"No, no. Certainly not. After he had cooled down a bit I explained to him what you meant by borrowing his book, and how hard you practised to learn the second fugue against his return; and he said that he believed that you were truly honest, and he was sorry that he had accused you wrongfully."
"And he'll let me use his book hereafter, and learn to play the fugues?" cried Sebastian joyfully.
Mrs. Bach shook her head slowly, her blue eyes fixed sorrowfully upon the boy.
"No," she said, "you cannot use his book any more. He said that he would never scold you again for having taken it last week, but that you must send him your promise never to play out of it again."
"Schwester!" ejaculated the boy in keen distress, "why does he forbid me to use it?"
"I do not know; I do not know."
"I may as well give up my playing altogether, for I have finished my own pieces; Christoff himself said I might leave them now, and I have no others to study. Music is so costly that I cannot buy any for myself,—yes, I may as well forget that I wished to be a great, great musician. Schwester!" The boy's eyes kindled and his cheeks glowed as he continued ardently,—
"I'd like to play so wonderfully by the time I'm a man that whole audiences would sometimes smile and sometimes cry with the sweetness of my music, and little children would drop their toys in the street and stand in my garden listening. But how can I learn without any music to study?"