It was about this time that de Sterny began to be restlessly ambitious.
His playing changed. He began to take on affectations. He began to
pound. This enraptured the masses; the critics pronounced it "a
magnificent development," and he himself was disgusted.
An icy crust covered the gutter in the Rue Ravestein, long icicles hung
from the arms of the great crucifix, and on the windows of the little
green salon the frost painted his chilly flowers; but Annette's hands
were always hot now, and her lips burning red. Her walk had grown slow
and careless, her movements dreamy and gliding. Her eyes gazed into the
distance. Instead of teasing wilfulness, or childlike winningness, she
met her lover with apathetic compliance, sometimes with repellent
irritation. Then would come hours when she hung upon him passionately,
begged him with tears not to be angry with her, and seemed as though
she could not show him love and tenderness enough.
He did not ponder very deeply over her strange contradictory nature,
but simply forgave her, as a sick child.
One evening, when he and his foster-father were involved in one of
their endless talks about music and literature, Annette, who had sat
meanwhile, reserved and silent, leaning back in a corner of the stiff
horse-hair sofa, suddenly raised her head and listened. Some one
knocked at the door: neither Gesa nor Delileo paid any attention.
"Entrez," cried Annette, breathlessly. The door opened. "Do I disturb
you?"--said an amiable voice, and Alphonso de Sterny entered.
Several days later, Gesa, returning from his lessons to the Rue
Ravestein, remarked, "Strange, Annette, it smells of amber,--has de
Sterny been here?"
"He brought us tickets for his next concert," she replied without
looking at her lover.
* * * * *
"Dear Friend:--I have something to say to you--come to me to-morrow, if
possible.
"Sterny."
Gesa found this note one evening in his apartment. Next morning, when
he dutifully presented himself at the Hotel de Flandres, de Sterny
received him with the question--"Would you like to earn a great deal of
money?"
"How can you doubt it! You know how pressingly I need money. Can it be
an opportunity offers for disposing of my 'Inferno,'" cried Gesa.
"Not yet--but something else offers. I received a telegram yesterday.
Winansky has broken an arm--Marinski, in consequence, needs a violinist
of the first rank and offers ten thousand francs a month and expenses.
Would that suit you?" Gesa's head sank. "How long must I remain away?"
he murmured.
"Six--eight months. You must decide by tomorrow. Are you afraid of
seasickness?" laughed the virtuoso.
"That?--No! but--Well I will ask the little one. Six or eight
months--it is long--and so far. She will not have the courage. However,
I thank you heartily!"
The servant announced an illustrious amateur and Gesa left.
To his great astonishment Annette exulted and rejoiced when he told her
of Marinksi's offer. "I did not know that you were already such a great
man in the world," she cried, triumphantly.
"Shall I accept?" asked Gesa, with a trembling voice, tears standing in
his eyes. She looked at him amazed. "Would you refuse? Gesa, only think
when you come back from America, a rich man!"
He sighed once deeply, then he bent over her, kissed her forehead, and
quietly said, "You are right, Annette. I was cowardly!"
He accepted Marinski's offer.
A few days later, a little dinner was served in the Rue Ravestein,
which was very elaborate for the surroundings, and at which Gesa left
all his favorite dishes untouched, and old Delileo exerted himself to
talk very rapidly about the most indifferent things, shook pepper into
his marmalade, and finally raised his glass with a trembling hand and
gave a toast to Gesa's speedy, happy return. Annette, who up to this
time had regarded Gesa's departure with the most frivolous gaiety,
became every moment more painfully excited. She ate nothing, said not a
word, and looked wretched, pain and terror were in her eyes. When Gesa
drew her to him, and kindly stroked her pallid cheeks, she broke into
immoderate weeping, clung to him convulsively, and begged him again and
again "do not leave me alone--do not leave me alone!"
He made no answer to her unreasonable words, only pitied her most
tenderly, called her a thousand sweet names, and said, turning to
Delileo, "Try to divert her a little, father--take her sometimes to the
theatre, and as soon as pleasant weather comes, take her to the
country. And read with her a little,--none of the complicated old trash
that we delight in, but something simple, entertaining, to suit a
spoiled little girl."
"Is there any one in the world, better than he is, papa?" sobbed
Annette. The servant entered and announced that the carriage was
waiting at the Place Royale, and the porter was there to take Monsieur
Gesa's luggage, at the same time clutching his traveling bag and violin
case. Gesa looked at the clock. "It is time," said he, quietly, "be
reasonable, Annette!"
But she sobbed incessantly, "do not leave me alone," and he was
forced to unclasp her dear, soft arms from his neck. He pressed his
foster-father's hand in silence, and hastened away. From the street, he
heard the sound of a window opening above, and Annette's voice. He
stood still, looked back--cried "Auf Wiedersehen!"--and hurried on to
the Place Royale.
Before the train puffed off, a slender, blonde man rushed onto the
platform. "De Sterny!" cried Gesa, deeply moved.
"Well, well, you expected me I hope. I slipped away from the X's in
order to catch you. You understand that I did not want to let you go
without wishing you 'bonne chance' for the last time."
The conductor opened the door of the coupe--Gesa entered it.
"Bonne chance! it can't fail you"--cried de Sterny.
Gesa bent out of the coach window. "Thousand thanks for all your
kindness," he cried, "and if it is not too tiresome for you,--then
to-morrow look in a moment, to see how it is with her."
"I will take her your last greeting," said de Sterny.
The virtuoso beckoned smilingly, while the train steamed away.
Thus, smiling, kind, sympathetic, Gesa lost sight of his friend. Thus
he remained in Gesa's memory.