"Ah yes!" said Ottmar, "I remember about the 'reading invisible music.' You used to put your fingers on the notes of the chords without pressing them down, and each of us sang the notes of his part without previously hearing them on the instrument. People who didn't notice the process of indicating the notes couldn't imagine how we 'improvised' part-music so cleverly; and for those who possess the talent of being easily astonished, it really is a good and interesting musical trick. For my part, I still sing that mediocre, grumbling old baritone of mine, and have as little forgotten how to hit my note as Lothair, who can still, with his fine _basso_, lay firm foundations on which tenors like you and Cyprian can build skywards with security." "For Cyprian's beautiful, delicate, tender tenor," said Theodore, "this thing of mine is exactly suitable. Therefore I shall give him the first tenor part, and take the second myself. Ottmar, who was always very accurate in striking his note, shall take the first bass, and Lothair the second. Only, for Heaven's sake, don't thunder, but keep the whole thing soft and _sostenuto_, as the character of the composition requires." Theodore struck two or three introductory chords on the piano, and then the voices began, with long, sustained notes, in the key of A flat major: "Beauteous Lover's Star, That gleamest far and far, In pale blue vault of Heaven! To thee, this night, our hearts make prayer; Oh! aid us in our fond despair! To Love--to Love alone our souls are given." The two Tenors now went on, in duet; key of F minor: "Oh! calm and holy night! Those glowing worlds of light-- Heaven's eyes--begin to tread their mystic measure. Soar high, like sweet bells far-off chime, Night Hymn of Love, in silv'ry rhyme-- Beat at Heaven's gate, in rhythmic, pulsant measure." At the words "soar high," etc., the music had gone into the key of D flat major, and now Lothair and Ottmar came in, in B flat minor: "Oh! saintly souls above, That burn in holy love, With heart and tongue all pure from earthly tainting, Drop down some balm on this poor heart, Which fails, and droops, in bitter smart, Contending here--in conflict well-nigh fainting." Then, finally, the four voices ended in F major: "Knock, knock, and soon the angel's voice will say, 'The gates are open! enter in for aye!'" All of them--Lothair, Ottmar, and Cyprian--felt much affected by Theodore's lovely music, which was in the simple, serious style of the early masters. The tears came to their eyes. They embraced the clever composer; they pressed him to their hearts. The clocks tolled midnight.