Sadly then he asked: "And if I do play upon it?"

"I am yours forever--yours through life--through eternity," she cried

passionately.

The call-boy announced Diotti's turn; the violinist led Mildred to a

seat at the entrance of the stage. His appearance was the signal for

prolonged and enthusiastic greeting from the enormous audience present.

He clearly was the idol of the metropolis.

The lights were lowered, a single calcium playing with its soft and

silvery rays upon his face and shoulders. The expectant audience

scarcely breathed as he began his theme. It was pity--pity molded into

a concord of beautiful sounds, and when he began the second movement it

was but a continuation of the first; his fingers sought but one string,

that of pity. Again he played, and once more pity stole from the violin.

When he left the stage Mildred rushed So him. "You did not touch that

string; you refuse my wish?" and the sounds of mighty applause without

drowned his pleading voice.

"I told you if you refused me I was lost to you forever! Do you

understand?"

Diotti returned slowly to the center of the stage and remained

motionless until the audience subsided. Facing Mildred, whose color was

heightened by the intensity of her emotion, he began softly to play.

His fingers sought the string of Death. The audience listened with

breathless interest. The composition was weirdly and strangely

fascinating.

The player told with wondrous power of despair,--of hope, of faith;

sunshine crept into the hearts of all as he pictured the promise of an

eternal day; higher and higher, softer and softer grew the theme until

it echoed as if it were afar in the realms of light and floating o'er

the waves of a golden sea.

Suddenly the audience was startled by the snapping of a string; the

violin and bow dropped from the nerveless hands of the player. He fell

helpless to the stage.

Mildred rushed to him, crying, "Angelo, Angelo, what is it? What has

happened?" Bending over him she gently raised his head and showered

unrestrained kisses upon his lips, oblivious of all save her lover.

"Speak! Speak!" she implored.

A faint smile illumined his face; he gazed with ineffable tenderness

into her weeping eyes, then slowly closed his own as if in slumber.

The Fifth String(#504) · 第 17 / 19 题