"Mein Herr," he said softly.
The organist paused and looked at him inquiringly. His face was very tired. "What wouldst thou, Wilhelm?" he said gently.
"It is a young man—" he stammered and paused.
"A young man?"
"He would speak with you, Mein Herr—but a word." The old man's voice waited.
"Speak with me? Does he bring credentials?"
"Nay, your honor——"
The great organist drew his gown about him. "I have not time, Wilhelm. Many seek me and life runs fast. I have not time." He bowed courteously and moved on. As he passed the pillar a fold of his robe floated out and touched the hand of the youth, kneeling there, hidden in the dim light.