Vinzi fought as well as he could to keep back the tears at this question. Despite his downcast eyes his teacher saw that he had not been able to restrain them as he answered, “No, I don’t think so.”
“Courage, boy,” said Pater Silvanus, kindly patting him on the shoulder. “Keep up your spirits! It is always lovely to go home again, and if God finds that music is the right thing for you, it is easy enough for Him to send someone into your path who will help you further. Besides, you are sure to come up to us again and as soon as you do, we’ll take it up again.”
The monk had seized Vinzi’s hand in a fatherly way and led him out. In the doorway he gave the boy his blessing and heartily said, “God protect you!” after which he took leave of his pupil.
The boy had barely been able to mumble his thanks, for the tears were choking him. He felt intensely grateful that the teacher had made the leave-taking so short, because he could not possibly have controlled himself any longer.
Vinzi went toward the place where the dark roses had bloomed. The bushes were still green, but few roses remained.
He gazed about him once more. The sun had just parted the fog, and all about him began to gleam, the snow peaks, the mountain streams, the walls of rock, and above all the deep blue sky. He was glad to see it once more.
He next ran to the tower where the grandfather occupied his accustomed seat in the sunshine.
“You come early today; that is right,” he greeted the approaching figure. “But what is wrong, boy? What is the matter?” he added as soon as Vinzi stood before him. “That certainly will make us all sad,” he replied, when Vinzi had informed him of the reason for his early visit. “Do you know, boy, my hope has been all along that you would come and sing me my song in case I should die. But I might still be here next summer, so let us hope that you’ll be here again, too. We’ll part with that thought now.” The grandfather heartily shook Vinzi’s hand, as he was unwilling to detain him longer. His relatives probably expected him home soon, as it was his last day with them.
Vinzi hurried straight home, for the grandfather probably was right. His aunt Josepha, who had meanwhile come to the conclusion that Vinzi’s departure could not be prevented, rejoiced when she saw him coming. She could now talk quietly to him a bit. The suddenness of it all had destroyed her accustomed calm and she had longed to see him.
Aunt Josepha and Vinzi again sat together as on the day of his arrival. Her happy frame of mind was fully restored when Vinzi assured her that he had no better wish than to come back to the mountain again another year. He hoped that he might be one of her household again and sleep in his lovely fragrant chamber.