Happy,—yet abashed and half-frightened Walter!
The tears ceased not to flow from the streaming eyes of Christina. When she heard the darling of her soul play, as she had never heard him play before, he seemed to her almost strange and wonderful, and her heart trembled within her; while her breast heaved anxiously and almost shudderingly at the loud, stormy, and never-ending applauses which were offered to the child of her love. She scarcely understood their full import, for she had never attended a concert before; she looked anxiously into the face of her brother, who was standing near her seat. He was deeply moved; he grasped and pressed her hand, tears trembled in his large, protruding eyes, the corners of his mouth were twitching with excitement, and the strange contortions of face which he made to try to conceal his emotion, had an almost comic effect. This was remarked by some of the young people in his neighborhood; they whispered to each other, pointed him out to others who were near, and lorgnettes and opera-glasses were instantly directed upon the strange appearance of the deformed clock-maker. As soon as he observed this, he immediately withdrew himself from observation. He left his place, pressed towards the door, escaped from the concert-hall, and the sea of tones whose waves were now rising, now falling, in their stormful play. He felt that he must be alone with God, under the holy arch of the starlit heavens, in order to pour out unobserved the thronging emotions of his excited heart.
The concert was over. Burg returned to the hall to seek Christina and Walter. He was detained sometime in the door-way by the press of the hurrying throng. At last, however, he reached his sister, who told him that the chapel-master had taken Walter away to introduce him to a noble family, who loved and patronized art, who gave a party this evening particularly to the artists and the friends of music; and as Walter had been particularly invited by the cultivated Countess W——, whose patronage might be of the greatest service to him, it would not be advisable or courteous to refuse the kind invitation.
"It is really painful to my heart to be obliged to give up Walter, upon this evening particularly!" said Christina. "But I did not know what to do; I could not see you anywhere, and the chapel-master was so pressing, and in such a hurry! I strongly recommended to our dear son, however, to be very prudent, and not to suffer himself to be made vain, or to be spoiled!"
"I am very sorry!" said Burg. "But it cannot be helped. Come, Christina!"
He led his sister to the carriage, and was silent and serious during the whole drive home, as he was in the habit of being when immersed in thought. A few words of deep and highly excited feeling were exchanged by the brother and sister upon the subject of Walter's brilliant success on his first appearance before the public, and hopes and fears alternated in their loving, simple hearts. Wearied by the unwonted excitement of the day, Christina went early to rest; while Burg opened a large book, and lighted another lamp, to await the arrival of Walter home.
Twelve strokes slowly sounded upon the various clocks in the house, telling Burg it was already midnight. He rose, as he shut the book of Chronicles in which he had been reading, opened his window, and looked anxiously out into the dark night. After a considerable time had elapsed, he thought he heard the distant rolling of a carriage; it drew nearer,—it stopped before the garden gate. "At last!" said Burg, heaving a deep sigh, as he closed the window. Almost immediately after, the door opened, and Walter entered.
"Good evening, my dear son! At last, at last I see you again," said Burg, as he rapidly advanced to meet him.
"O my father!" cried Walter, as he threw himself into his arms, "what an evening I have spent! how happy I am!"
Burg gazed inquiringly into the glowing face of the boy; it shone with intense excitement and proud joy.