hould never part true lovers," he
said softly, at last: "Thy hand!"--and taking Thaddeus's hand he
placed it tenderly in that of Arline. As they stood thus united and
happy, the Queen appeared at the window, pointing him out to a gipsy
beside her. The gipsy was about to fire upon Thaddeus at the Queen's
command, when Devilshoof knocked up the gipsy's arm, and the bullet
meant for the lover killed the revengeful Queen.

"Guard every portal--summon all the guests!" the Count cried. "Suspend
all festivities," at which the music which had been heard in the
distant salon ceased, and the guests began to assemble. Arline rushed
to the arms of Thaddeus. The Count explained all that had occurred,
the danger Thaddeus had just been in, that he had been given the
Count's daughter, and that congratulations were in order.

As you may believe, after so much fright and danger, everybody was
overjoyed to find that all was well--everybody but Florestein, and he
was certain to be satisfied presently when the banquet began, and he
got some especially fine tit-bit on his own plate!

BEETHOVEN

The most complete, at the same time picturesque, story of Beethoven
and his "Fidelio" is told in "Musical Sketches," by Elise Polko, with
all the sentimentality that a German writer can command. Whole
paragraphs might be lifted from that book and included in this sketch,
but the substance of the story shall be told in a somewhat inferior
way.

"Leonora" (Fidelio) was composed some time before it was produced.
Ludwig van Beethoven had been urged again and again by his friends to
put the opera before the public, but he always refused.

"It shall never be produced till I find the woman in whose powers I
have absolute confidence to sing 'Leonora.' She need not be beautiful,
change her costume ten times, nor break her throat with roulades: but
she must have _one_ thing besides her voice." He would not disclose
what special quality he demanded; and when his friends persisted in
urging the production of his first, last, and only opera, Beethoven
went into a great rage and declared if the subject were ever mentioned
again, he would burn the manuscript. At one time friends begged him to
hear a new prima donna, Wilhelmina Schroeder, the daughter of a great
actress, believing that in her he would find his "Leonora."

This enraged him still more. The idea of entrusting his beloved
composition to a girl no more than sixteen years old!

His appear