Chapter Two

It was past seven o'clock that evening when Poons returned to Von
Barwig's apartment on his way to the Gewandhaus concert. His old
overcoat buttoned tightly over his well-worn dress suit covered a
palpitating heart; for Poons was afraid. A few minutes before, when he
had kissed his motherly wife good-bye and told her to take good, extra
good care of their little son August, she had noticed that his hand was
trembling. And when he tried to account for his nervous condition by
reminding her that Anton Von Barwig's new symphony was to be played
that night and that a member of the Royal family was to be present on
the occasion, she had shaken her head gravely, accusing him of being a
foolish, timid old boy. It needed all the courage he could muster up
to enable him to ring the door-bell of Von Barwig's dwelling. There
was such a death-like stillness that Poons thought for a moment no one
was there; he dreaded he knew not what. As he stood listening to the
silence, he thought he heard a child's laughter, and he sighed in
relief. The servant came to the door, a sleepy-eyed German _maedchen_
as strong as an ox and nearly as stupid. "Oh, it's Herr Poons," she
said. "Come in. I tell Herr Von Barwig----"

"Is he--is he? _How_ is he?" faltered Poons, much relieved that the
girl showed no evidence of acquaintance with the real condition of her
master's mind.

"I tell him," repeated the girl stolidly, without answering his
question.

Closing the hall door, she ushered him into the studio and left him
standing there. Poons looked at his watch; it was a quarter past
seven. He still had fifteen minutes to spare before the concert
engagement, which began at eight o'clock, called him to the Gewandhaus.

While he was wondering what he could say to his friend, the servant
opened the door leading to the living apartments of the family and
intimated that he should come in. Poons passed through a magnificently
furnished drawing-room and library, and thence into the dining-room.

"This way," said the girl, opening the dining-room door, beyond which
was a passage leading to the kitchen and bedrooms. Poons looked
surprised, and the girl hastened to say:

"Herr Von Barwig is in the nursery."

"Ah, of course," nodded Poons, as he followed her.

Not very observant usually, Poons noticed that the dinner table was set
for two persons. Both places were undisturbed and the food was
untouched.

"He has not ea