Georg, bereft of Christian's support, and unaware of his father's presence, became so frightened that his breath almost failed as he advanced, and he wondered wildly if the trembling of his knees could be detected by the company. He carried his black beaver on his arm, as he had seen the courtiers do, and when he came within a few feet of the ducal chair, he bowed with a curious little bob that set the whole room laughing. "Silence!" commanded the duke sternly; then turning, he kindly asked his small auditor what his name might be. "Georg Friedrich Händel," replied the boy tremulously, but with the sound of his own voice his terror dissolved, and he stood before the Duke of Sächse with respectful composure. "When did you learn to play the organ, my manikin?" "This morning, your grace." "This morning!" echoed the duke, astounded. "Can it be true that you have never tried the instrument before to-day?" "Well, you see, we have no organ at home," returned Georg apologetically. The duke studied him for a moment, as though seeking for traces of falsehood, but Georg's utter simplicity was strangely convincing. Quietly the duke put his next question. "Upon what instruments _have_ you played before?" "Last winter and this summer I have played every day on my aunt's clavichord, your grace." Here a loud gasp was heard from a distant corner, but the duke frowned for silence. "And what before the clavichord, my boy?" "A mouth organ, a tin trumpet, a fife, a drum, and a dinner-bell, your grace." A dozen irrepressible titters burst from the attendants, but the duke grew very grave. "And that is all, lad?" "All, your grace." "No lessons?" "No--except when Aunt Anna and I taught each other. But you mustn't tell father about the clavichord, your grace, because it is a secret, and father told me to give away my own instruments, and Aunt Anna wouldn't like to give away her clavichord, so please don't let him know about it." "I am afraid that he knows already," said the duke, smiling; and at his signal, the Halle surgeon emerged from his corner, pale with amazement. Georg was so confounded at sight of his parent, that, unable to meet his expected look of condemnation, he buried his face in the folds of the duke's breakfast cloth. "I am sorry, Mr. Händel," said the duke, "that I betrayed the child's secret. Had I known there was anything confidential in the interview, I should have held it in private. But now that the mischief is done, will you tell me why you oppose the musical study that Georg desires?" "Merely, your grace, because he neglects his school for music when I allow it. I am a music-lover myself, but I wish to educate my son for a jurist, and I cannot have the plan interfered with, even by music."