musical purity.

This was Pinac's opportunity. "No, no, Von Barwig!" he said, "we are not
fit to drink such a toast! We are in the gutter. It is you, my friend,
you alone of all these present, who does not sink himself to play for
money at a _cafe_ on Liberty Street. To Von Barwig, the artist!"

The rattle of plates, knives and forks attested the popularity of this
sentiment; then Fico began:

"It is you only who keeps up the standard." More applause. "You are the
standard bearer, the general. You lead; we follow," at which the
clapping was vociferous.

Von Barwig felt keenly the falsity of his position at that moment. He
thought of the deception, the lie he was practising on them. He had sunk
lower than they, far lower, for he was playing in a dime museum. He
could not bear their praises; for he knew he did not deserve them. He
inwardly determined to tell them the truth, but not at that moment, for
he did not want to dampen their spirits. As the cognac and cigars were
placed on the table Miss Husted rose grandly, and stated that the ladies
would now withdraw; whereupon she and Jenny left the room, proudly
curtseying themselves out. "_La grande dame_!" said Pinac as he bowed
low to her. The men then talked over their prospects, their hopes, even
getting so far as to discuss the opening programme. An idea occurred to
Von Barwig, "Why not open with his symphony?" The men almost cheered at
the idea, so he unlocked the little trunk and took it out. There it was,
covered with the dust of years and almost coffee-coloured. As he took it
out of the trunk, something fell out from between the pages and dropped
upon the floor. He picked it up, and his heart stood still for a moment
as he glanced at it, for it was a miniature portrait of his wife. He
thrust it hastily in his pocket and went on distributing the parts of the
symphony.

"You, the first violin, Pinac," and he handed him his part. "For you,
Fico, the second violin. Poons, the 'cello, of course," and the men
hurried to get their instruments.

Chapter Thirteen

It was late the following morning when Von Barwig returned from his
interview with Van Praag. All the details had been settled
satisfactorily, and his three friends were to be engaged. Von Barwig
had not yet left the Museum; his sense of obligation to Costello was
too great to permit him to desert him without notice, so it was
understood that he was to leave at the end of the w