his angel in the face
Without a blush: nor heeds disgrace,
Whom naught disgraceful done
Disgraces. Who knows nothing base
Fears nothing known."

It was noon. The probe to "Tannhauser" was over, and we, the members of
the kapelle, turned out, and stood in a knot around the orchestra
entrance to the Elberthal Theater.

It was a raw October noontide. The last traces of the by-gone summer
were being swept away by equinoctial gales, which whirled the remaining
yellowing leaves from the trees, and strewed with them the walks of the
deserted Hofgarten; a stormy gray sky promised rain at the earliest
opportunity; our Rhine went gliding by like a stream of ruffled lead.

"Proper theater weather," observed one of my fellow-musicians; "but it
doesn't seem to suit you, Friedhelm. What makes you look so down?"

I shrugged my shoulders. Existence was not at that time very pleasant to
me; my life's hues were somewhat of the color of the autumn skies and of
the dull river. I scarcely knew why I stood with the others now; it was
more a mechanical pause before I took my spiritless way home, than
because I felt any interest in what was going on.

"I should say he will be younger by a long way than old Kohler,"
observed Karl Linders, one of the violoncellists, a young man with an
unfailing flow of good nature, good spirits, and eagerness to enjoy
every pleasure which came in his way, which qualities were the objects
of my deep wonder and mild envy. "And they say," he continued, "that
he's coming to-night; so Friedhelm, my boy, you may look out. Your
master's on the way."

"So!" said I, lending but an indifferent attention; "what is his name?"

"That's his way of gently intimating that he hasn't got no master," said
Karl, jocosely, but the general answer to my question was, "I don't
know."

"But they say," said a tall man who wore spectacles and sat behind me in
the first violins--"they say that von Francius doesn't like the
appointment. He wanted some one else, but Die Direktion managed to beat
him. He dislikes the new fellow beforehand, whatever he may be."

"So! Then he will have a roughish time of it!" agreed one or two others.

The "he" of whom they spoke was the coming man who should take the place
of the leader of the first violins--it followed that he would be at
least an excellent performer--possibly a clever man in many other ways,
for the post was in many ways a good one. Our kapelle was no mean
one--in our o