From that evening the boy came to Joachim in the stable every night.
It never occurred to him to ask Joachim to play for him during the
daytime; he seemed to fancy that the stir and bustle of the day precluded
all possibility of these sweet melodies. But as soon as the shades of
evening began to fall, Petrùsya was seized with a feverish impatience.
The evening tea and supper served but as signs of the approach of the
longed-for moment; and the mother, although she felt an instinctive
aversion for those musical séances, still could not forbid her darling to
seek the company of the piper and spend two hours with him in the stable
before bedtime. Those hours became for the boy the happiest of his life;
and the mother saw with painful jealousy that the impressions of the
previous evening held entire possession of the child; that during the day
he no longer responded to her caresses with his former ardor; that while
sitting in her lap with his arms about her, his thoughts would revert to
Joachim’s song of the previous evening.
It suddenly occurred to the mother that while she was in the _pension_
of Pani Radètzka, several years ago, she had among other “delightful
accomplishments” pursued the study of music. This reminiscence was not
in itself a source of delight, because it was connected with the memory
of her teacher,—one Klapps; a lean, prosy, and irritable old German
Fräulein. This bilious maiden, who in order to impart to the fingers of
her pupils the required flexibility, had trained them most skilfully,
succeeded at the same time in destroying every vestige of poetical and
musical feeling. The very presence of Pani Klapps, not to mention her
pedantic method, was well calculated to abash so sensitive an emotion.
Therefore after leaving school, and even since her marriage, Anna
Michàilovna had felt no inclination to renew her musical studies. But
now, as she listened to the piper, she was conscious that in addition
to the emotion of jealousy a sense of appreciation and feeling for the
living melody had sprung up in her soul, and the image of the German
Fräulein was almost forgotten. The result of this was that Pani Popèlska
requested her husband to send to town for an upright piano.
“If you wish it, my dove,” replied the exemplary husband. “I thought you
did not care much about music.”
That same day a letter was sent to town; but several weeks must elapse
before the instrument could arrive in the country.
Meanwhile the same harmonious strains proceeded from the stable
evening after evening; and the boy, who had ceased to ask his mother’s
permission, hurried eagerly thither at the proper time. With the
customary odor of the stable was mingled the fragrance of the hay and the
pungent smell of the leather harnesses; and whenever the piper paused
for a moment one could hear the faint rustling of the wisps of hay which
the horses, quietly munching, pulled through the bars, and also the
whispering of the green beeches in the garden. In the midst of all this
Pètrik[8] sat listening like one enchanted. He never interrupted the
musician; but once when the latter had been resting, and several minutes
had passed in absolute silence, the charmèd influence that possessed the
boy gave way to a passionate yearning. He reached to grasp the pipe,
took it in his trembling hands, and carried it to his lips. Gasping for
breath, his first notes were faint and tremulous, but by slow degrees
he gained a certain mastery over the simple instrument. Joachim placed
the boy’s fingers on the holes, and although the tiny hand could hardly
grasp them, he had very soon mastered the notes of the scale. Every note
possessed to him an individuality of its own; he knew in which opening he
should find each of these tones, whence to bring it forth; and at times
when Joachim was quietly and slowly playing some simple melody, the blind
boy’s fingers would imitate his movements. As tone followed tone, he
seemed to know exactly from which hole each one came.