Degraux is a big man now, but twenty-five
years ago we were playing in the same orchestra for a few shillings a
week. He is there, I am here. We have never quite lost sight of each
other, and I think he would always do me a good turn if it was in his
power. I will give you a note to him. Take it round to him this
morning. You will find him at the theatre."

Ten minutes later, Corsini was on his way to the great man. Gay had
written a most glowing and eulogistic introduction.

"The bearer of this note, Signor Nello Corsini, is a most accomplished
violinist. I have had him in my orchestra, but he is too good for
that. Give him a chance at one of your concerts and he will make good.
You know my judgment is generally pretty accurate. Give him a helping
hand and you will not regret it."

CHAPTER III

The name of Gay seemed one to conjure with. Five minutes after the
letter had been taken in, Nello was shown in to Monsieur Degraux's
private room.

He was a tall, handsome man, this musical director of the opera who,
twenty-five years ago, had played in a small orchestra for a few
shillings a week. His countenance was florid, he had a very striking
personality. Emphatically he was the type of man who gets on, who
shoulders his way in the world, pushing aside with his strong,
resolute elbows his weaker and more timorous fellow creatures.

He was always urbane, even when he had to say No. At the present
moment he had not decided as to whether he would say Yes or No to his
old friend's request. He was very much taken with the appearance of
the slim, handsome young Italian. His clothes were certainly shabby:
Degraux's experienced eyes took in that fact at once; but there was a
certain resolution in Nello's bearing, a brightness and animation in
his face, that showed he was no ordinary seeker for favours.

"Sit down, sit down," he said genially, "although I cannot give you
very long. I am a very busy man; all the day and half the night I have
to cut myself into pieces, as it were. And always, I am frightfully
worried. To-day I have been more worried than usual."

"I am sorry to hear it, Monsieur," said the Italian, sympathetically.
If he wanted to get anything out of Monsieur Degraux, he must fall in
with his moods. Privately he thought the director's worries, whatever
their magnitude, were as nothing compared to his own.

This plump, prosperous-looking person was not very close to
starvation.

"You know, of cou