Page:Hoffmann's Strange Stories - Hoffman - 1855.djvu/109

 "Do you not see," said this man, the cemetery on your left? It is an interment that is taking place!" At this moment the descending road commanded a view of the cemetery, and I saw in effect, that they were filling up the grave. My heart felt a pang; it seemed to me that they were shutting up in this grave a whole life of hope and happiness. At a few steps from the city, I met professor M, leaning on the arm of his niece; they were both returning from this lugubrious ceremony. They passed near me, without being aware of it. The young girl was weeping.

I could not restrain the impatience which was consuming me. Instead of entering the city, I sent my servant with my baggage to a hotel that I knew, then I ran breathlessly towards Krespel's little house. On opening the garden gate, I saw in the linden walk the counsellor, conducted by two persons dressed in mourning, between whom he was struggling desperately. He wore his old gray coat, which he had cut himself and fashioned in so strange a manner; his person was not in the least changed, except that he wore a long piece of crape hanging from his little three-cornered hat. He had buckled around him a black belt, in which he wore a violin-bow instead of a sword. I shuddered at the sight of this. "He is mad!" said I to myself. The men who accompanied him stopped at the door of the house. There Krespel embraced them, laughing in a guttural voice; they retired, and his eyes then fell upon me.

"You are welcome, master student; you will understand me;" and, taking me by the hand, he led me into the closet where his violins were arranged. A broad black crape covered them; but the unknown master's violin was no longer there; a wreath of cypress marked its place. I understood all. "Antonia! Antonia!" exclaimed I, madly. But Krespel stood by me, with his arms folded, staring fixedly.

"When she expired," said he to me in a voice which he endeavored in vain to restrain, "the soul of that violin departed, bursting with a mournful sound, and the sounding