AUNT JANE'S NIECES AND UNCLE JOHN
Continued....
CHAPTER XV
THE ROMANCE OF DAN'L
It did not take them very long to reach the river, a
muddy little
stream set below high banks. By Dan'l's direction
they turned to
the left and followed the wind of the river for a
mile or so until
suddenly out of the darkness loomed a quaint little
bungalow which the
old German claimed to be his home.
"I haf architectured it mineself, unt make it built
as I like it. You
vill come in unt shtop der night mit me," he said,
as Wampus halted
the machine before the door.
There was a little murmur of protest at this, for
the house appeared
to be scarcely bigger than the automobile. But Uncle
John pointed out,
sensibly enough, that they ought not to undertake an
unknown road at
nighttime, and that Spotville, the town for which
they were
headed, was still a long way off. The Major,
moreover, had a vivid
recollection of his last night's bed upon the roof
of the limousine,
where he had crept to escape rattlesnakes, and was
in no mood to again
camp out in the open while they traveled in Arizona.
So he advocated
accepting Dan'l's invitation. The girls, curious to
know how so many
could be accommodated in the bungalow, withdrew all
further objections
and stood upon the low, pergola-roofed porch while
their host went
inside to light the lamps.
They were really surprised at the cosy aspect of the
place. Half the
one-story dwelling was devoted to a living room,
furnished simply but
with modest taste. A big square table was littered
with music, much
being in manuscript--thus proving Dan'l's assertion
that he was
a composer. Benches were as numerous as chairs, and
all were
well-cushioned with tanned skins as coverings. A few
good prints were
on the walls and the aspect of the place was
entirely agreeable to the
old man's guests.
As the room was somewhat chilly he made a fire in
the ample fireplace
and then with an air of pride exhibited to his
visitors his tiny
kitchen, his own bedroom and a storeroom, which
occupied the remainder
of the space in the bungalow. He told them he would
prepare beds in
the living room for the girls, give his own room to
Mr. Merrick and
Major Doyle, while he and Wampus would bunk in the
storeroom.
"I haf much blankets," he said; "dere vill be no
troubles to keep
varm."
Afterward they sat before the fire and by the dim
lights of the
kerosene lamps chatted together of the day's
adventures.
Uncle John asked Dan'l what had brought him to this
deserted,
out-of-the-way spot, and the old man told his story
in a manner that
amused them all greatly.
"I haf been," said he, "much famous in my time, unt
had a
individualness pointed out whereeffer I went. I vas
orchestra leader
at the Theater Royal in Stuttgart, unt our king haf
complimented me
many times. But I vas foolish. I vas foolish enough
to think that ven
a man iss great he can stay great. I married me to a
clefer prima
donna, unt composed a great opera, which vas finer
as anything
Herr Wagner has efer done. Eh? But dere vas
jealousness at work to
opposition me. Von day ven my fine opera vas all
complete I vent
to the theater to lead mine orchestra. To my
surprisement der Herr
Director tells me I can retire on a pension; I am
too old unt he has
hired a younger man, who iss Herr Gabert. I go home
bewildered unt
mishappy, to find that Herr Gabert has stole the
score of mine opera
unt run avay mit mine vife. Vot I can do? Nothing.
Herr Gabert he lead
my orchestra tint all der people applauds him. I am
forgot. One day I
see our king compliment Herr Gabert. He produces my
opera unt say he
compositioned it. Eferybody iss crazy aboud id, unt
crown Herr Gabert
mit flowers. My vife sings in der opera. The people
cheer her unt she
rides avay mit Herr Gabert in his carriage to a
grand supper mit der
nobility unt der Herr Director.
"I go home unt say: 'Who am I?' I answer: 'Nobody!'
Am I now great?
No; I am a speck. Vot can I do? Veil, I go avay. I
haf some money--a
leedle. I come to America. I do not like crowds any
more. I like to be
alone mit my violin. I find dis place; I build dis
house; I lif here
unt make happiness. My only neighbors are de
remittance men, who iss
more mischiefing as wicked. Dey vill nod bother me
much. So after a
time I die here. Vy nod? I am forgot in Stuttgart."
There was pathos in the tale and his way of telling
it. The old man
spoke cheerfully, but they could see before them the
tragedy depicted
by his simple words. His hearers were all silent
when he had
concluded, feeling they could say nothing to console
him or lighten
his burden. Only Wampus, sitting in the background,
looked scornfully
upon the man who had once been the idol of his
townspeople.
Dan'l took a violin from a shelf and began to play,
softly but with
masterly execution. He caught their mood instantly.
The harmony was
restful and contented. Patsy turned down the lamps,
to let the flicker
of the firelight dominate the room, and Dan'l
understood and blended
the flickering light into his melody.
For a long time he continued to improvise, in a way
that fairly
captivated his hearers, despite their varied
temperaments, and made
them wonder at his skill. Then without warning he
changed to a
stirring, martial air that filled the room with its
rich, resonant
tones. There was a fugue, a wonderful finale, and
while the concluding
notes rang in their ears the old man laid his violin
in his lap,
leaned back against his cushions and heaved a deep
sigh.
They forebore disturbing him for a while. How
strange it seemed that
this really talented musician should be banished to
a wilderness while
still possessing power to stir the souls of men with
his marvelous
execution. Truly he was a "maestro," as he had said;
a genius whose
star had risen, flashed across the sky and suddenly
faded, leaving his
future a blank.
Wampus moved uneasily in his chair.
"I like to know something," he remarked.
Dan'l roused himself and turned to look at the
speaker.
"You have one bad eye," continued Wampus,
reflectively. "What make him
so? You stick violin bow in eye some day?"
"No," grunted Dan'l.
"Bad eye he no make himself," persisted the little
chauffeur. "What
make him, then?"
For a moment there was an awkward silence. The girls
considered this
personal inquiry offensive and regretted admitting
Wampus to the room.
But after a time the old German answered the
question, quietly and in
a half amused tone.
"Can you nod guess?" he said. "Herr Gabert hurt mine
eye."
"Oh!" exclaimed Wampus, nodding approvingly "You
fight duel with him?
Of course. It mus' be."
"I haf one goot eye left, howefer," continued Dan'l.
"It vill do me
fery well. Dere iss nod much to see out here."
"I know," said Wampus. "But Herr Gabert. What happen
to him?"
Again there was a pause. Then the German said
slowly:
"I am nod rich; but efery year I send a leetle money
to Stuttgart to
put some flowers on Herr Gabert's grave."
The chauffeur's face brightened. He got up from his
chair and solemnly
shook Dan'l's hand.
"You are great musician," he announced. "You can
believe it, for it is
true. An' you have shake the hand of great
chauffeur. I am Wampus."
Dan'l did not answer. He had covered his good eye
with his hand.
AUNT JANE'S NIECES AND UNCLE JOHN
Continued....
 
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