Liszt, his eyes shining with tears quickly dried, seized my hand and rapidly whispered to me:
"Guard well the secret that I confide to you; I will do my best on my return to Italy, to stop a few hours at Lucerne in order to embrace my daughter and my grandchildren."
And then he, who always refused to play, went to the piano, lifted the cover with a quick movement, and ran his masterful fingers over the keys in an impetuous, thrilling and passionate improvisation.
The ovation which this called forth approached delirium, but he hardly noticed it.
It was now the turn of Villiers to charm the audience. Well curled, his Maltese cross in the right place on his left side, he looked very magnificent. Yet he appeared to me a little nervous and disturbed.... Was it possible that the vast ornate drawing-room of the mansion overwhelmed him, and that this gathering of noble, well-dressed ladies, of high functionaries, of artists, forming a half circle as in a theatre, and staring at him in silent attention, abashed him more than the Olympian intimacy of Tribschen? In full light, standing at the end of the grand piano, he seemed to hesitate, he did not speak. But at last, with a proud toss of his head, he threw back his waving hair and began to read in a firm, clear voice.
I was reassured; Villiers, very certain of himself, was taking plenty of time and managing his effects; the audience was interested, a flattering murmur followed certain passages, they applauded; then again, the respectful silence was renewed, and they listened intently.
But, alas! What is happening? Suddenly Villiers is silent, he drops his manuscript and looks at his audience with wide open eyes filled with fright. With an hysterical gesture he un-hooks the belt of his trousers, then he takes off his shoes and seats himself on the top of the piano. Oh, horror! What can he mean? Is that in the play? A mystification? A wager? In any case it is in very bad taste! There is a mocking uproar and everyone rises; they come to me; they question me.
What can I say? How can I make them understand that Villiers believes himself in danger of death, and that therefore he has done what he thinks is best for himself, irrespective of propriety. He has had, without doubt, a little nervous spasm of the heart; some physician, chaffing him, perhaps, once told him that if anything of the kind happened, he must loosen his clothing quickly, take off his shoes and stockings, and seat himself high up so that his feet would hang. And now they can see that the invalid has conformed to this order in every particular.
Much laughter was stifled behind fans. They pretended to forget the incident.
Villiers had fled, bearing his shoes with him, while our little group, not daring to follow him in beating a retreat, remained feeling very much embarrassed, and experiencing the isolation of the vanquished.