He stood at the window several minutes with clasped hands and uplifted eyes. The sky was overcast with dark clouds, with here and there occasional glimpses of the blue. The air was sultry and oppressive, and seemed to threaten a storm. Suddenly the dark cloud-veil was rent, as it were, and the dazzling sun shed a brilliantly glorious flood of light upon the beautiful scenery of Salzburg. The glistening sunbeams also streamed into the vice chapelmaster’s room, and Father Mozart welcomed them with a serene smile. “Behold, it is as if the eye of God were shining out of heaven in token of his inexhaustible goodness and mercy,” he said to himself. “I will accept it as a good omen, Lord, my God.” A cheery little nurse with smiling face entered, carrying in her arms a little boy, vigorously crowing and kicking.[2] “Look, Herr Vice Chapelmaster,” she said with an expression of the heartiest delight; “this is what the beautiful sunlight, even yet glistening upon the roofs like gold, has brought us. If this is not a good omen, why, then, I am no prophet.” The vice chapelmaster stretched out his arms to the little boy, held his hands in blessing over his head, and made no effort to restrain the tears of joy which ran down his cheeks. “My God and Lord,” he said with trembling voice, “accept my thanks for this happy moment, and let Thy blessing rest upon the head of this child whom Thou hast given me for my comfort.” Thereupon he bent down, kissed the boy’s forehead, and looked at him for some time with an expression of the greatest delight. “And the mother,[3] my good woman?” he asked hastily, as if awakening from a beautiful dream. “All is well, Herr Vice Chapelmaster,” was her reply. “The dear little woman is as lively as a fish in the water. See for yourself.” He needed no second invitation. In three steps the happy father was in the next room. His wife, somewhat pale, smilingly stretched out both her delicate hands, which Father Mozart affectionately kissed. “My dear wife, you have made me very happy,” he said in a tone which came straight from the heart. “Not any happier than I feel myself,” the mother replied. “Let us both praise God for His merciful help.” “Yes, but I must insist that you do your praising apart from each other,” interposed the woman, who stood one side with the still vigorously kicking and screaming boy in her arms. “You must withdraw at once, Herr Vice Chapelmaster, for your little wife must have some rest. You ought to be satisfied, for you have seen with your own eyes that everything has been done for the best. So go, or I shall be offended.”