She began the old tune, "Ariel," and then wandered on, playing many
airs that brought back forgotten days. Adam threw himself down on the
grass to listen, half jealously, for she seemed to forget everything.
She had seated herself on a great boulder, and, leaning back against
it, her eyes looking into the blue depths above her, she played on and
on. The old tunes were merged in new ones, and the high sustained
notes of the Cavalleria, the subtle minor of Wagner, the exquisite
sweetness of Beethoven and Schubert filled the moonlit cañon, and
still she played on, melodies new to Adam, intoxicating, full of a
wild ecstasy, that filled his very soul, and thrilled through him till
he felt all power of resistance swept away. Every other desire in the
world was lost in the supreme and overwhelming longing to gather her
to his heart and hold her there forever. The very air was steeped in
melody. The full majestic chords rose and melted in unison with the
high, exquisitely sweet notes, and throbbed their life away. She held
the bow suspended a moment, then very softly, half unconsciously,
played a dreamy lullaby, and laid the violin down in her lap.
Adam took her and it into his arms.
"Be careful, put it down gently," she said faintly; "it is your soul
and mine. Do you not know the secret of Antonio Stradivari, of all the
great makers of violins? Ah, they solved our riddle, Love, ages ago.
Do you not remember the story of Jacob Steiner, and how he spent days
and days in the woods, selecting the trees for his violins, and how
the spirits of the trees revenged themselves by telling him of their
ruined lives till he went mad?"
"But there was no madness in this music," Adam answered, "except,
except--"
"The supreme, sublime madness of love? Do you not know, surely you do,
that every perfect violin is as much man and woman as you and I? The
back of the violin is made from the timber of the female tree, the
belly of the male tree. The harmony depends on their vibrations, as
they clasp each other in an embrace as real--"
"As this," he cried, drawing her closer, and bending his handsome head
until their lips met. "Sweet, must I envy that violin?"
He felt her heart beating wildly against his own, their arms closed
around each other convulsively. The sweetness of the music-laden,
flower-scented air filled his senses.
"God! how I love you!" he said.
A frightened look came into her eyes, and she struggled, for a moment,
futilely.
"Let me go!" she whispered; "let me go!"
"Do you want me to?" he answered, studying her face in the moonlight.
"No," she said. "No, never again, but, oh, Adam!"