“Why, we can’t begin to-night, can we?” “Why not? I say, let’s begin right off. The cursed thing is keeping us awake, and there doesn’t seem to be any escape from it. We may as well utilize our wakefulness, as lie here doing nothing but toss about. I say, let’s light the gas and go to work.” “Oh, well, I’m agreeable. The sooner the better as far as I’m concerned.” “Good,” cried Merivale. He sprang out of bed and lighted the gas. “Shall Mahomet go to the mountain or shall the mountain come to Mahomet?” he inquired, blinking his eyes. “What do you mean?” “I mean shall we dress and adjourn to the other room? Or shall I bring your musical library in here, so that we can conduct our investigation without getting up?” “Just as you please,” I answered. “Well, we’ll move the mountain, then,” he said, and left the room. He made two or three trips, back and forth, bearing an armful of music as the fruit of each. The last folios deposited on the floor, “Now, as to method,” he inquired, “how shall we start? It will occupy us till doom’s-day if we undertake to go through the whole of this. I suppose there are some composers we can eliminate à priori, eh?” “Oh, yes; Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Wagner, Liszt, in particular, we needn’t trouble with. I’d keep an especially sharp eye out for Ruben-stein and Dvorak and Winiauski. It’s fortunate that I’ve preserved all the music I’ve ever owned. We can’t miss it if we’re only patient enough.” “Well, here goes,” he cried, thrusting a thick pile of music into my hands, and apportioning an equal amount to himself. We were industrious. It is needless that I should tarry with the incidents of our search. At daybreak we had not yet quite finished, and we had not yet struck any thing that bore the slightest resemblance to the composition in question. “But little remains,” said Merivale. “In another five minutes we will have found it; or my first hypothesis was true.” “Your first hypothesis?” I inquired. “Yes—that it was original—a lucubration of your own.” “Oh, that, I tell you, isn’t possible. I’m not vain enough to imagine that I could improvise in such style, thank you.” “Well, we won’t enter into a dispute, at any rate not till our present line of investigation is exhausted. Back to the saddle!” For a space we were silent. “Eh bien, mon brave!” cried Merivale at length. “There goes the last of my half,” and he sent a sheet of music fluttering through the air. “And here is the last of mine,” I responded, laying down Schumann’s Warum. “And we are still in the dark.” “Still in the dark.” “It isn’t possible that we have overlooked it?” “I’m sure I haven’t. I took pains with each separate page.” “Likewise, I! Therefore. I congratulate you. I’ll order a laurel wreath at the florist’s, the first thing after breakfast.” “Nonsense! How many times need I tell you that I could not by hook or crook have made it up as I went along? The mere notion is ridiculous. It must have got lost, that’s all.”