There was perfect stillness, and he turned to Milans-André and spoke. Every one beneath the roof must have heard his words, for they were distinct as authoritatively serene. "Will you be so good as to resume your seat?" And as if swayed by some angel power,--such as drove the ass of Balaam to the wall,--the imperial pianist sat down, flushed and rather ruffled, but with a certain pomp it was trying to me to witness, and re-commenced the concerto which had been so opportunely interrupted. Attention seemed restored, so far as the ear of the multitude was concerned; but every eye wandered to him who now stood behind the player and turned the leaves of the composition under present interpretation. _He_ seemed attentive enough,--not the slightest motion of his features betrayed an unsettled thought. His eyes were bent proudly, but calmly, upon the page; the rose light had faded from his cheek as the sunset flows from heaven into eternity,--but how did he feel? Hopeless to record, because hopeless to imagine. Perhaps nothing; the triumph so short but bright had no doubt become such phantasm as an unnoticeable yesterday to one whose future is fraught with expectation. The concerto was long and elaborately handled. I felt I really should have admired it, have been thereby instructed, had not _he_ been there. But there is something grotesque in talent when genius, even in repose, is by. It is as the splendor of a festive illumination when the sun is rising upon the city; that brightness of the night turns pale and sick, while the celestial darkness is passing away into day. There was an oppression upon all that I heard, for something different had unprepared me for anything, everything, except something else like itself. The committee were again at the table, and when I grew weary of the second movement, I looked for my master, and found him exactly opposite, but certainly not conscious of me. His beard was delightfully trimmed, and his ink-black eyebrows were just as usual; but I had never seen such an expression as that with which he regarded the _one_. It was as if a stone had rolled from his heart, and it had begun to beat like a child's; it was as if his youth were renewed, like the eagle's; it was as if he were drinking, silently but deeply, celestial knowledge from those younger heavenly eyes. "Does he love him so well, then?" thought I. Oh that I had known it, Aronach, for then I should have loved you, have found you out! But of course you don't think we are worthy to partake such feeling, and I don't know but that you are right to keep it from us. "Would that concerto never be over?" was my next surmise,--it was about the longest process of exhaustion to which I had ever been subjected. As for me, I yawned until I was dreadfully ashamed; but when I bethought myself to look round, lo! there were five or six just out of yawns as well, and a few who had passed that stage and closed their eyes. It never struck me as