His zeal did not abate, and at evening he waited breathlessly until the household fell into heavy slumber; then once again he stole down to the kitchen, arranged his materials at the window, and toiled feverishly until the white light faded. Night after night he repeated his adventurous vigil, and no one of the family suspected that anything extraordinary was taking place in the house. To Sebastian's surprise, he discovered that the moon rose later each night; and ere long he was obliged to wait up so late for his shimmering torch that he was forced to bathe his face in icy water, tramp up and down his chamber, and bite his tongue severely in order to keep awake. Even these heroic measures failed when the moon was delayed until the middle of the night; and Sebastian realized with dismay that he must set his work aside until the time in the following month when his friendly lantern would begin again to mount the sky at an early hour. Laboring with such hindrances as dim and fleeting light, nearsighted eyes, loss of sleep, and piercing cold, the lad's progress was necessarily slow. Week after week, month after month, he continued at his weighty task; but never once did his interest flag nor his patience fail. His organ lessons with Christoff were carried on in a half-hearted fashion, old selections being rehearsed, and studies previously finished, indifferently played and heard. Had not Sebastian been fired with a dominant purpose, and bent upon mastering his art at any cost to himself, he would doubtless, at this period of cold laxity on his teacher's part, have abandoned his music altogether. But deep in his breast there was rooted a desire so strong, a hope so pure, that even Christoff's unjust denial had not power to discourage him. If the elder Bach had been less orderly in his habits, Sebastian would not always have found the manuscript within reach; but though Christoff took it daily from the cabinet, he always returned it precisely to the place and position which it had occupied before. One night Sebastian barely escaped detection. He had just descended to the kitchen, and was groping about for the violin box, when accidentally he stumbled upon the hearth-rug, and overturned a chair with a great clatter. Christoff, roused by the unwonted noise, bounded from his bed and made for the stair, pausing just long enough on the way to light a candle. Sebastian was appalled at hearing his brother's step. Dropping to the floor, he crept hastily under the dining-table, convinced that its drapery would not screen him from his brother's eagle eye. He shook from head to foot, not with fear of punishment, but with dread of losing his chance at the fugues.