"Can you play the quadrilles?" I whispered anxiously.
"Yes."
He struck a few notes on his violin. By luck I knew the air. We were saved. Although Mattia and I had never played together, we did not do badly. It is true the people had not much ear for music.
"Can one of you play the cornet?" asked the big man with the red face.
"I can," said Mattia, "but I haven't the instrument with me."
"I'll go and find one; the violin's pretty, but it's squeaky."
I found that day that Mattia could play everything. We played until night, without stopping. It did not matter for me, but poor Mattia was very weak. From time to time I saw him turn pale as though he felt ill, yet he continued to play, blowing with all his might. Fortunately, I was not the only one who saw that he was ill; the bride remarked it also.
"That's enough," she said; "that little chap is tired out. Now all hands to your pockets for the musicians!"
I threw my cap to Capi, who caught it in his jaws.
"Give your offerings to our secretary, if you please," I said.