The large horny hand clasped round the small delicate one. The servant-man turned, and with a stiff, respectful bow to me, led Sigmund from the room. The door closed after him—he was gone. The light of two lonely lives was put out. Was our darling right or wrong in that persistent auf wiedersehen of his?
CHAPTER XXVI.
Resignation! Welch’ elendes Hulfsmittel! und doch bleibt es mir das einzig Uebrige—Briefe Beethoven’s.
Several small events which took place at this time had all their indirect but strong bearing on the histories of the characters in this veracious narrative. The great concert of the “Passions-musik” of Bach came off on the very evening of Sigmund’s departure. It was, I confess, with some fear and trembling that I went to call Eugen to his duties, for he had not emerged from his own room since he had gone into it to send Sigmund away.
He raised his face as I came in; he was sitting looking out of the window, and told me afterward that he had sat there, he believed, ever since he had been unable to catch another glimpse of the carriage which bore his darling away from him.
“What is it, Friedel?” he asked, when I came in.
I suggested in a subdued tone that the concert began in half an hour.
“Ah, true!” said he, rising; “I must get ready. Let me see, what is it?”
“The ‘Passions-musik.’”