one, is Cintras. He must have received a black eye some
time. Was he ever in love?"

"Yes, but she went off with another fellow."

"That explains all." Pauch stolidly asked for beer, and getting none
strolled home....

Cintras died. Among his effects was found a bulky mass of manuscript;
almost trembling with joy and expectation Berkeley carried the treasure
to Merville's room. On the title-page was read: "The Corridor of Time: A
Novel. By George Cintras."

Frantic with curiosity the friends found on the next page the following
lines:

"And the insistent clamor of her name at my heart is like the sonorous
roll of the sea on a savage shore."

The other pages were virginal of ink....

AVATAR

Somewhere; in desolate wind-swept space,
In Twilight-land--in No-man's land--
Two hurrying shapes met face to face
And bade each other stand.

"And who are you?" cried one agape
Shuddering in the gloaming light;
"I know not," said the second shape,
"I only died last night!"

--ALDRICH.

Mychowski was considered by grave critical authorities, the best living
interpreter of Chopin. He was a Pole--any one could tell that by the way
he spelt his name--and a perfect foil to Paderewski, being short,
thick-set and with hair as black as a kitchen beetle. His fat amiable
face, flat and corpulent fingers, his swarthy skin and upturned nose,
were called comical by the women who thronged his recitals; but
Mychowski at the keyboard was a different man from the Mychowski who sat
all night at a table eating macaroni and drinking Apollinaris water.
Then the funny profile vanished and the fat fingers literally dripped
melody. His readings of the Polish master's music were distinguished by
grace, dexterity, finesse, pathos and subtilty. The only pupils of
Chopin alive--there were only six now--hobbled to Mychowski's concerts
and declared that at last their dead idol was reincarnated, at last the
miracle had taken place: a genuine interpreter of Chopin had
appeared--then severe coughing, superinduced by emotion, and the rest of
the sentence would finish in tears....

The Chopin pupils also wrote to the papers letters always beginning,
"Honored Sir,--Your numerous and intelligent readers would perhaps like
to know in what manner Chopin's performance of the F minor Ballade
resembled Mychowski's. It was in the year 1842 that--" A sextuple flood
of recollections was then let loose, and