He thought all the time he was in Upsala, outside the house with the Virginia-creepers, and he expected the acrobats would begin to dance as they had done last time. He endeavoured to play with more life to make them do so, but his fingers were stiff and awkward; the bow would not properly obey them. He exerted himself so much that the perspiration stood on his forehead. At last, however, he got hold of the right tune--the same they had danced to the last time. He played it so enticingly, so temptingly, that it ought to have melted their hearts. But the old acrobats did not begin to dance. It was a long time since they had met the student at Upsala; they did not remember how enthusiastic they were then. They had no idea what he expected them to do. Gunnar Hede looked at Ingrid for an explanation why they did not dance. When he looked at her there was such an unearthly radiance in her eyes that in his astonishment he gave up playing. He stood a moment looking round the small crowd. They all looked at him with such strange, uneasy glances. It was impossible to play with people staring at him so. He simply went away from them. There were some apple-pears in bloom at the other end of the garden, so he went there. He saw now that nothing fitted in with the ideas he had just had that Alin had locked him in, and that he was at Upsala. The garden was too large, and the house was not covered with red creepers. No, it could not be Upsala. But he did not mind very much where he was. It seemed to him as if he had not played for centuries, and now he had got hold of a violin. Now he would play. He placed the violin against his cheek, and began. But again he was stopped by the stiffness in his fingers. He could only play the very simplest things. 'I shall have to begin at the beginning,' he said. And he smiled and played a little minuet. It was the first thing he had learnt. His father had played it to him, and he had afterwards played it from ear. He saw all at once the whole scene before him, and he heard the words: 'The little Prince should learn to dance, but he broke his little leg.' Then he tried to play several other small dances. They were some he had played as a school boy. They had asked him to play at the dancing-lessons at the young ladies' boarding-school. He could see the girls dance and swing about, and could hear the dancing-mistress beat the time with her foot. Then he grew bolder. He played first violin in one of Mozart's quartettes. When he learnt that, he was in the Sixth Form at the Latin school at Falun. Some old gentlemen had practised this quartette for a concert, but the first violin had been taken ill, and he was asked to take his part, young as he was. He remembered how proud he had been.