by Hector Malot
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE DREAM COME TRUE
Years have passed. I now live in the home of my ancestors, MilliganPark. The miserable little wanderer who slept so often in a stable washeir to an old historical castle. It is a beautiful old place abouttwenty miles west of the spot where I jumped from the train to escapefrom the police. I live here with my mother, my brother and my wife.
We are going to baptize our first child, little Mattia. To-night allthose who were my friends in my poorer days will meet under my roof tocelebrate the event and I am going to offer to each one as a littletoken a copy of my "Memoirs," which for the last six months I have beenwriting and which to-day I have received from the bookbinder.
This reunion of all our friends is a surprise for my wife; she will seeher father, her sister, her brothers, her aunt. Only my mother andbrother are in the secret. One will be missing from this feast. Alas!poor master! poor Vitalis! I could not do much for you in life, but atmy request, my mother has had erected a marble tomb and placed yourbust, the bust of Carlo Balzini, upon the tomb. A copy of this bust isbefore me now as I write, and often while penning my "Memoirs," I havelooked up and my eyes have caught yours. I have not forgotten you; Ishall never forget you, dear master, dear Vitalis.
Here comes my mother leaning on my brother's arm, for it is now the sonwho supports the mother, for Arthur has grown big and strong. A fewsteps behind my mother comes an old woman dressed like a French peasantand carrying in her arms a little baby robed in a white pelisse. It isdear Mother Barberin, the little baby is my son Mattia.
Arthur brings me a copy of the _Times_ and points to a correspondencefrom Vienna which states that Mattia, the great musician, has completedhis series of concerts, and that, in spite of his tremendous success inVienna, he is returning to England to keep an engagement which cannot bebroken. I did not need to read the article for, although all the worldnow calls Mattia the Chopin of the violin, I have watched him developand grow. When we were all three working together under the direction ofour tutors, Mattia made little progress in Latin and Greek, but quicklyoutstripped his professors in music. Espinassous, the barber-musician ofMendes, had been right.
A footman brings me a telegram:
"Sea very rough! Alas! Have been very ill, but managed to stop on my way at Paris for Christina. Shall be with you at 4 o'clock. Send carriage to meet us. MATTIA."
Mentioning Christina, I glanced at Arthur, but he turned away his eyes.I knew that Arthur loved Mattia's little sister, and I knew that intime, although not just yet, my mother would become reconciled to thematch. Birth was not everything. She had not opposed my marriage, andlater, when she saw that it was for Arthur's happiness, she would notoppose his.
Lise comes down the gallery, my beautiful wife. She passes her arm roundmy mother's neck.
"Mother dear," she said, "there is some secret afoot and I believe thatyou are in the plot. I know if it is a surprise and you are in it, it issomething for our happiness, but I am none the less curious."
"Come, Lise, you shall have the surprise now," I said, as I heard thesound of carriage wheels on the gravel outside.
One by one our guests arrive and Lise and I stand in the hall to welcomethem. There is Mr. Acquin, Aunt Catherine and Etiennette, and a bronzeyoung man who has just returned from a botanical expedition and is nowthe famous botanist--Benjamin Acquin. Then comes a young man and an oldman. This journey is doubly interesting to them for when they leave usthey are going to Wales to visit the mines. The young one is to makeobservations which he will carry back to his own country to strengthenthe high position which he now holds in the Truyere mine, and the otherto add to the fine collection of minerals which the town of Varseshas honored him by accepting. It is the old professor and Alexix.Lise and I greet our guests, the landau dashes up from the oppositedirection with Arthur, Christina and Mattia. Following in its wake is adog cart driven by a smart looking man, beside whom is seated a ruggedsailor. The gentleman holding the reins is Bob, now very prosperous, andthe man by his side is his brother, who helped me to escape fromEngland.
"LET US NOW PLAY FOR THOSE WE LOVE."]
When the baptismal feast is over, Mattia draws me aside to the window.
"We have often playful to indifferent people," he said; "let us now, onthis memorable occasion, play for those we love?"
"To you there is no pleasure without music, eh, Mattia, old boy," Isaid, laughing; "do you remember how you scared our cow?"
Mattia grinned.
From a beautiful box, lined with velvet, he drew out an old violin whichwould not have brought two francs if he had wished to sell it. I tookfrom its coverings a harp, the wood of which had been washed so often bythe rain, that it was now restored to its original color.
"Will you sing your Neapolitan song?" asked Mattia.
"Yes, for it was that which gave Lise back her speech," I said, smilingat my wife who stood beside me.
Our guests drew round us in a circle. A dog suddenly came forward. Goodold Capi, he is very old and deaf but he still has good eyesight. Fromthe cushion which he occupies he has recognized the harp and up hecomes, limping, for "the Performance." In his jaws he holds a saucer; hewants to make the rounds of the "distinguished audience." He tries towalk on his two hind paws, but strength fails him, so he sits downgravely and with his paw on his heart he bows to the society.
Our song ended, Capi gets up as best he can and "makes the round." Eachone drops something into the saucer and Capi delightedly brings it tome. It is the best collection he has ever made. There are only gold andsilver coins--170 francs.
I kiss him on his cold nose as in other days, and the thought of themiseries of my childhood gives me an idea. I tell my guests that thissum shall be the first subscription to found a Home for little streetmusicians. My mother and I will donate the rest.
"Dear Madam," said Mattia, bending over my mother's hand, "let me have alittle share in this good work. The proceeds of my first concert inLondon will be added to Capi's collection."
And Capi barked approval.
THE END