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epic to describe them。 The top of the bureau and that of the piano
were encumbered by music…books with ragged backs and whitened corners；
through which the pasteboard showed its many layers。 Along the walls
the names and addresses of pupils written on scraps of paper were
stuck on by wafers；the number of wafers without paper indicating the
number of pupils no longer taught。 On the wall…papers were many
calculations written with chalk。 The bureau was decorated with beer…
mugs used the night before； their newness appearing very brilliant in
the midst of this rubbish of dirt and age。 Hygiene was represented by
a jug of water with a towel laid upon it； and a bit of common soap。
Two ancient hats hung to their respective nails； near which also hung
the self…same blue box…coat with three capes； in which the countess
had always seen Schmucke when he came to give his lessons。 On the
window…sill were three pots of flowers； German flowers； no doubt； and
near them a stout holly…wood stick。
Though Marie's sight and smell were disagreeably affected； Schmucke's
smile and glance disguised these abject miseries by rays of celestial
light which actually illuminated their smoky tones and vivified the
chaos。 The soul of this dear man； which saw and revealed so many
things divine； shone like the sun。 His laugh； so frank； so guileless
at seeing one of his Saint…Cecilias； shed sparkles of youth and gaiety
and innocence about him。 The treasures he poured from the inner to the
outer were like a mantle with which he covered his squalid life。 The
most supercilious parvenu would have felt it ignoble to care for the
frame in which this glorious old apostle of the musical religion lived
and moved and had his being。
〃Hey！ by what good luck do I see you here； dear Madame la comtesse？〃
he said。 〃Must I sing the canticle of Simeon at my age？〃 （This idea so
tickled him that he laughed immoderately。） 〃Truly I'm 'en bonne
fortune。'〃 （And again he laughed like a merry child。） 〃But； ah！〃 he
said； changing to melancholy； 〃you come for the music； and not for a
poor old man like me。 Yes； I know that； but come for what you will； I
am yours； you know； body and soul and all I have！〃
This was said in his unspeakable German accent； a rendition of which
we spare the reader。
He took the countess's hand； kissed it and left a tear there； for the
worthy soul was always on the morrow of her benefit。 Then he seized a
bit of chalk； jumped on a chair in front of the piano； and wrote upon
the wall in big letters； with the rapidity of a young man； 〃February
17th； 1835。〃 This pretty； artless action； done in such a passion of
gratitude； touched the countess to tears。
〃My sister will come too；〃 she said。
〃The other； too！ When？ when？ God grant it be before I die！〃
〃She will come to thank you for a great service I am now here to ask
of you。〃
〃Quick！ quick！ tell me what it is；〃 cried Schmucke。 〃What must I do？
go to the devil？〃
〃Nothing more than write the words 'Accepted for ten thousand francs；'
and sign your name on each of these papers；〃 she said； taking from her
muff four notes prepared for her by Nathan。
〃Hey！ that's soon done；〃 replied the German； with the docility of a
lamb； 〃only I'm sure I don't know where my pens and ink are Get away
from there； Meinherr Mirr！〃 he cried to the cat； which looked
composedly at him。 〃That's my cat；〃 he said； showing him to the
countess。 〃That's the poor animal that lives with poor Schmucke。
Hasn't he fine fur？〃
〃Yes；〃 said the countess。
〃Will you have him？〃 he cried。
〃How can you think of such a thing？〃 she answered。 〃Why； he's your
friend！〃
The cat； who hid the inkstand behind him； divined that Schmucke wanted
it； and jumped to the bed。
〃He's as mischievous as a monkey；〃 said Schmucke。 〃I call him Mirr in
honor of our great Hoffman of Berlin； whom I knew well。〃
The good man signed the papers with the innocence of a child who does
what his mother orders without question； so sure is he that all is
right。 He was thinking much more of presenting the cat to the countess
than of the papers by which his liberty might be； according to the
laws relating to foreigners； forever sacrificed。
〃You assure me that these little papers with the stamps on them〃
〃Don't be in the least uneasy；〃 said the countess。
〃I am not uneasy；〃 he said； hastily。 〃I only meant to ask if these
little papers will give pleasure to Madame du Tillet。〃
〃Oh； yes；〃 she said； 〃you are doing her a service； as if you were her
father。〃
〃I am happy； indeed； to be of any good to her Come and listen to my
music！〃 and leaving the papers on the table； he jumped to his piano。
The hands of this angel ran along the yellowing keys； his glance was
rising to heaven； regardless of the roof； already the air of some
blessed climate permeated the room and the soul of the old musician；
but the countess did not allow the artless interpreter of things
celestial to make the strings and the worn wood speak； like
Raffaelle's Saint Cecilia； to the listening angels。 She quickly
slipped the notes into her muff and recalled her radiant master from
the ethereal spheres to which he soared； by laying her hand upon his
shoulder。
〃My good Schmucke〃 she said。
〃Going already？〃 he cried。 〃Ah！ why did you come？〃
He did not murmur； but he sat up like a faithful dog who listens to
his mistress。
〃My good Schmucke；〃 she repeated； 〃this is a matter of life and death；
minutes can save tears； perhaps blood。〃
〃Always the same！〃 he said。 〃Go； angel！ dry the tears of others。 Your
poor Schmucke thinks more of your visit than of your gifts。〃
〃But we must see each other often；〃 she said。 〃You must come and dine
and play to me every Sunday； or we shall quarrel。 Remember； I shall
expect you next Sunday。〃
〃Really and truly？〃
〃Yes； I entreat you； and my sister will want you； too； for another
day。〃
〃Then my happiness will be complete；〃 he said； 〃for I only see you now
in the Champs Elysees as you pass in your carriage； and that is very
seldom。〃
This thought dried the tears in his eyes as he gave his arm to his
beautiful pupil； who felt the old man's heart beat violently。
〃You think of us？〃 she said。
〃Always as I eat my food；〃 he answered；〃as my benefactresses； but
chiefly as the first young girls worthy of love whom I ever knew。〃
So respectful； faithful； and religious a solemnity was in this speech
that the countess dared say no more。 That smoky chamber； full of dirt
and rubbish； was the temple of the two divinities。
〃There we are lovedand truly loved；〃 she thought。
The emotion with which old Schmucke saw the countess get into her
carriage and leave him she fully shared； and she sent him from the
tips of her fingers one of those pretty kisses which women give each
other from afar。 Receiving it； the old man stood planted on his feet
for a long time after the ca