his shortcomings,
to forgive his sins, to give him a hand upward out of the dark places
into the light. He followed her, always pleading, by brooks, into
valleys, through flowery meadows in the early morning, into solemn
churches, into groves of cypress flooded with moonlight.

[Illustration: And in his soul the legless man was playing only for
Barbara]

Blythe could have sworn that a woman sobbed, but his eyes, used by now
to the obscurity, told him that it was neither Mrs. Bruce nor Barbara.
The piano burst into a storm of sound, under cover of which Rose, still
at her post, torn with jealousy, continued to pedal at the direction of
her lord and master, and sobbed as if her heart would break. Devils
filled the room, whirling in mad dances; they screamed and yelled;
the souls of the damned screeched in torment; and the face of him who
invoked the inferno, swollen, streaming with sweat, the eyes glazed,
protruding, was the face of a madman.

Rose, for whom her master's playing had the eloquence and precision of
speech, forgot her jealousy in fear of those consequences which her
ill-timed sobbing must bring upon her. Her tears dried as in a desert
wind; her sobs ceased, and in a moment or two the madness was going out
of Blizzard's music and out of his face. He rested, preluded, and then
began to play Beethoven, quietly, with a pure singing tone, music of a
heavenly sanity.

The jarred feelings of his audience were soothed. Into his own face
there stole a high-priest look. And when he had finished playing, this
look remained for a few moments. Then he laughed quietly and, speaking
for the first time, expressed the hope that he had not made them
listen too long.

He reached for the wall behind him, and turned a switch so that the room
became brightly lighted. Then, reluctantly, he came out from behind the
piano, swinging between his crutches, and leaving Rose to escape at the
first favorable opportunity. His descent from colossus to cripple had an
unpleasant effect. And the question, "How the deuce do you work the
pedals?" was jerked from Blythe, usually a most tactful person.

"Why," said Blizzard simply, "I have an assistant." He caught Barbara's
eye and reddened a little. "A young man who is musical and intelligent.
We have a system of signals, and--but I think there is a sort of thought
communication that comes of much rehearsing together. And in our best
moments we do pretty well. But sometimes when our minds