In the meanwhile the party of male and female singers had reached the summit, their hats and coats garlanded with wreaths of leaves. They appeared to be in a most lively mood, and broke out into loud rejoicings when they had gained the point whence a view could be obtained; some clapped their hands, and at a signal, which an elderly gentleman gave with a walking-stick used as a conductor's _bâton_, all began to sing a most artistically correct _Jodler_. In the faces and in the whole demeanour of the party there lay that peculiarity by which actors and actresses are unmistakable even in their exterior; an air of mental freedom, the assurance and self-sufficiency of manner, and at the same time the appearance of struggling after an ideal, which even those know how to maintain who follow their art as a rather rude handicraft. In fact, they were singers from the provincial capital, who were wandering along the shore for a holiday excursion, but had set up their head-quarters in the favourite seaside watering place Cranz, which by its sociable doings atoned for what its desolate strand lacked in natural beauty. It soon became apparent that the most prominent female person in the group, a tall figure with southern glowing eyes, with noble aristocratic features, and dark hair that shone amongst the green oak branches with the polish of ebony, was that accomplished singer, who, during the party's ascent, had borne away the prize of song. Leaning over the balustrade, she warbled a melody into the night air, with trills and cadences irreproachably executed, while the fuller notes were uttered with most soul-felt intensity of expression. "Bravo, Signora Bollini!" cried the elderly gentleman, who had previously waved the _bâton_, "even the most unfavourable critic, the most venomous monster that lurks in any newspaper's crevice, would be obliged to write a laudatory criticism upon this performance. Besides you are in wonderfully good voice." "You know, dear Conductor," replied the Signora, "that I possess an impressionable soul; here in free beautiful nature I regulate my powers quite differently from what I do when I stand behind you at the piano, looking down upon its venerable smooth surface, and the pages of music upon the lifeless paper, that I am to transpose into ringing coin. One must have illusions, best of conductors; but to sing to order, at the appointed time, as announced on the black board, for wages which themselves sometimes belong to illusions, takes away all inclination, and acts most depressingly upon one's mind. Art can only thrive in freedom!" "It is well known to us all," said the Conductor, "that our beautiful _prima donna_ belongs to those natures, which, in the language of art, may be designated as _cappricciose_, and which only with difficulty can accustom themselves to any regular walk in life, or indeed to any rules of business."