words sometimes with
admiration, sometimes with anxiety. It was long past midnight, when the
musician left the tavern with his friend. Colonel Mulder looked after
him and exclaimed to those left behind:

"The fellow is possessed with a devil."

The next morning the madrigal was practised at the burgomaster's house,
while its master was presiding over a meeting at the town-hall. Georg
stood between Henrica and Maria. So long as the musician found it
necessary to correct errors and order repetitions, a cheerful mood
pervaded the little choir, and Barbara, in the adjoining room, often
heard the sound of innocent laughter; but when each had mastered his or
her part and the madrigal was faultlessly executed, the ladies grew more
and more grave. Maria gazed fixedly at the sheet of music, and rarely
had her voice sounded so faultlessly pure, so full of feeling. Georg
adapted his singing to hers and his eyes, whenever they were raised
from the notes, rested on her face. Henrica sought to meet the Junker's
glance, but always in vain, yet she wished to divert his attention from
the young wife, and it tortured her to remain unnoticed. Some impulse
urged her to surpass Maria, and the whole passionate wealth of her
nature rang out in her singing. Her fervor swept the others along.
Maria's treble rose exultantly above the German's musical voice, and
Henrica's tones blended angrily yet triumphantly in the strain. The
delighted and inspired musician beat the time and, borne away by the
liquid melody of Henrica's voice, revelled in sweet recollections of her
sister.

When the serenade was finished, he eagerly cried:

"Again!" The rivalry between the singers commenced with fresh vigor,
and this time the Junker's beaming gaze met the young wife's eyes. She
hastily lowered the notes, stepped out of the semicircle, and said:

"We know the madrigal. Early to-morrow morning, Meister Wilhelm; my time
is limited."

"Oh, oh!" cried the musician regretfully. "It was going on so
splendidly, and there were only a few bars more." But Maria was already
standing at the door and made no reply, except:

"To-morrow."

The musician enthusiastically thanked Henrica for her singing; Georg
courteously expressed his gratitude. When both had taken leave, Henrica
paced rapidly to and fro, passionately striking her clenched fist in the
palm of her other hand.

The singers were ready early on the birthday morning, but Peter had
risen before sunrise, f