Vinzi reported the Pater’s injunction, also his own reply, telling how impossible this was on account of his father’s objection to it.
“Would you like to learn an instrument in order to give yourself pleasure by playing, Vinzi?” said Mr. Delrick. “Did you ever think of making music your whole and only life’s work? I suppose you could not even imagine that?”
Vinzi’s eyes flamed.
“Oh, yes, I could, and I thought about it long ago, when I was on the mountain. I could imagine well how it would be,” Vinzi assured him. “I don’t only want to study an instrument, but to learn everything about music. Pater Silvanus knows everything and can explain how to put the tones together in order to make harmonious music. Also how to write down melodies one has in one’s head so people can read it again from a sheet. He had already begun to explain it all and teach me how to do it. It was so wonderful! I wouldn’t mind shoveling snow all day and working hard the way they have to do up there in winter, if only I could spend the evenings with Pater Silvanus, for he said he would keep on teaching me. Now I’ll never be allowed to go up the mountain any more, never!”
It was hard for Vinzi to suppress his newly rising grief.
“You see, Vinzi,” Mr. Delrick said kindly, “your father wants you to be happy. You know that yourself and I can absolutely assure you of it. He said the words you worry about so much because he thinks that your life on the mountain might interfere with your future happiness. Time may bring many changes, and therefore it is possible that he won’t have to keep his word. It is entirely wrong, though, for you to keep on repeating these words to yourself, for they only make you sad and take all your spirit away. Did you not find joy and happiness where you expected unhappiness? Remember that, Vinzi, and keep up your courage.”
The mother had entered meanwhile and after setting the breakfast on the table had immediately vanished. It had calmed her to hear how Mr. Delrick was speaking to her boy and how attentively the latter was listening.
“Now, Vinzi,” said Mr. Delrick rising, “pull yourself together and be glad that you are home again. Show your father a pleasant face when he comes home, and if you are willing to do what he tells you to, everything may still come right. Will you promise me to think about what I have just now said?”
This Vinzi gladly did, and when the mother entered a little later after Mr. Delrick had gone out, his eyes already were somewhat clearer.
The day went quietly by. All the inmates of the house, feeling that the happiness of the evening before had vanished, could not help being depressed. When the day was over and Vinzenz Lesa had settled as usual on his bench, his forehead lay in deep furrows. Staring at the ground, he even let his pipe go out.