“Of course there is,” replied a voice from the heart of the mysterious instrument, while the amazed doctor and his guests came crowding up with one accord.
“Doctor,” asked Professor Sturm, “dit you hear dat biano? I shall blay him some more. You see.”
The professor was a man of pluck, but no sooner did his fingers again begin to wander over the chords than a tumult began behind the rosewood in front of him.
Now it was one cat, then three or four. Then a distressed dog. And then a human voice appealed to the professor.
“Please, don’t. You hurt us dreadfully.”
“De defil’s in de biano!” exclaimed the professor.
“No,” replied the voice, “not the devil. Only a lot of notes broke loose. If you’d only tie us up again.”
“Die ’em up!” said the professor. “Doctor, dit you hear ’em?”
“Yes, I heard them,” said the doctor. “Did you have any loose notes with you when you came?”
“Loose note, Doctor! Vat is de loose note?” cried Professor Sturm, with a fast-reddening face.