So I accepted, and had Viennese lessons in the noble art of composition, from a Czech, at London terms. Nor had I to regret my decision, for Mr. Doblana proved a most invaluable teacher. I have already stated that I owe to him all I know, little as it may be.
I was not only his pupil, but his apprentice, which is the best, the surest way of learning, for it necessitates a continuous connexion between the master and the disciple.
Mr. Doblana was now composing a new ballet called Aladdin, and many pages of this work were scored out by me from his sketches.
Now, if the reader will be good enough to peruse again the fourth chapter of this book, he will find that Mitzi had informed me that her father was working on a ballet called Griseldis, the book of words of which—if I may use the euphemism "book of words"—had been provided by the Archduke Alphons Hector, or the Herr Graf, whichever name you may prefer for this exalted person. The book of Aladdin, too, was signed Joseph Dorff, the Archduke's nom de plume.
As I was training myself not only as a composer but also as a detective, I thought that this inconsistency might have its importance, and I submitted it to the joint council of Mitzi and Fanny. Mitzi only abandoned herself to grief. In former days she would have known all about it, while now her father treated her with such indifference! But Fanny declared the incident of no importance: The first ballet "Father Morgana" had also had another name at the beginning.
"Yes," said Mitzi, "it was at first called Daphnis and Chloe."
"How is that possible?" asked I. "The two subjects seem absolutely different—as different as Griseldis and Aladdin."
"Oh!" declared Mitzi lightly, "that does not matter with ballet. The same music can always serve for the most dissimilar objects. When father altered Daphnis and Chloe into Fata Morgana he said he had only to add some fifths to the bass, and some strange drums and tambourins in order to change his music from occidental to oriental."
This seemed to me very deep and probably true. So the incident was dismissed. Yet I had never been nearer a clue! I ought at least to have noticed that Mr. Doblana was not merely adapting a musical dress from its occidental fashion to an oriental one, but that, musically speaking, he was making up his balletis personæ in real old carpets from Baghdad or some other such place.