crept along the maze of
sound and rose and fell in the changing rhythm. Shyly the small thumb
darted out and found its key, and filled the great church with the
tremulous, haunting call of note answering note.

The master bending over the keys wiped his brow and looked at the boy
proudly, with a little wonder in his face. "Good.... Ach--but good,
good!" he murmured softly.

The boy looked up quickly. His clear skin flushed. "May I use
it--sometimes?" he asked, doubting.

Bohm gave a sharp, generous laugh. "You may use it." He laughed again.
"All the world will use it!" he said, patting him on the back. "It is a
great discovery. Play more."

The boy turned obediently to the keys, and while he played, the master
slipped away. "Come down," he whispered to Kerlman, whose fat bulk
filled the doorway. "Let us come down and get some beer. I am very dry
this day."

Over their mugs, in the garden across the way, they looked at each other
solemnly. Then they threw back their big heads and laughed till their
sides shook and their wigs stood askew. Kerlman laid his fat thumb on
the table and regarded it respectfully. "Gott im Himmel!" he said.

Bohm nodded, his eyes twinkling.

The fat man raised his thumb from the table and twiddled it in the air.
It fell with a stiff thud. "Ja, ja," he said, half impatient, half
laughing. "How is one to do it--such fool tricks! Ja, ja!"

The keen eyes watching him had a proud look. "You know what he will
be--that boy," he said exultingly. "He will be a great musician!"

"He will be a great bother," grumbled Kerlman. "First," he checked off
the vices on his fingers--"first, he comes to us three weeks late--three
weeks late--because his brother promises, and takes it back and waits to
die--Bah!" He took a sip of beer and laid out another fat finger.
"Second, he sings two octaves at the same time--two octaves! Did one
ever hear such nonsense! Third, he loses his voice, his beautiful voice,
and sings no more at all." He shook his head heavily. "Fourth, he is
running away to Hamburg to listen--always to Hamburg, to listen to
Reinken, and coming back to be forgiven. Ja, ja! Seven times I have
forgiven him. I think he is making ready now to go once more!" He glared
at his companion.

Bohm nodded slowly. "I was to ask you for that to-day," he said,
smiling.

"Ja! ja--I have thought so." He looked sadly at the four short fingers
resting on the table. "And fifth--fifth--now what is that fift