Then it appeared to him that he again stood before Krista’s house, and there he stood. No living soul was stirring anywhere, the house and the street were plunged in sleep—not a voice was to be heard anywhere as though that day had never been at all.
All that to-day had been, already now spoke only in Venik, it was already only an echo, though this echo was very distinct indeed and sometimes well nigh found a voice. The torches seemed to be aflame in his bosom and a cry seemed perforce to be wrung from it as if he had to shout for the whole troop.
The next time when Krista once more sang he was again first in the theatre. This time when the curtain was furled up, the wood was not on the stage: there was a garden and in it was a hum of voices. One might suppose a féte represented in this garden, and Krista sang at it while the guests amused themselves. The action on the stage was concluded by the first violin playing a solo melody which the public clapped: but Krista on the stage had to feign herself conscience stricken by the melody and finally to fall fainting on the ground whereupon the curtain fell.
When Krista fell fainting on the ground, Venik could scarcely refrain from calling out to her. But then the public kept on clapping, the curtain rose, Krista stepped before it, as if she had never in her lifefallen on the ground in a fainting fit, thanked
