The Young Musician; Or, Fighting His Way, Jr. Horatio Alger [best contemporary novels .txt] 📗

“I don't pretend to explain it. I wasn't aware that my name had ever been heard of a hundred miles from here.”

“It has not, but it will be. I have only been predicting a little. The paragraph isn't true now, but it will be some time, if we live and prosper.”

“But I don't like to be looked upon as a humbug, professor,” said Philip uneasily.

“You won't be. You are really a fine player, or I wouldn't consent to appear with you. The name of Riccabocca, Mr. de Gray, I may truthfully say, is well known. I have appeared in the leading cities of America. They were particularly enthusiastic in Chicago,” he added pensively. “I wish I could find a paragraph from one of their leading papers, comparing my rendering of the soliloquy in 'Hamlet' to Edwin Booth's, rather to the disadvantage of that tragedian.”

“I would like to read the notice,” said Philip, who had very strong doubts as to whether such a paragraph had ever appeared in print.

“You shall see it. It will turn up somewhere. I laid it aside carefully, for I confess, Mr. de Gray, it gratified me much. I have only one thing to regret: I should myself have gone on the stage, and essayed leading tragic roles. It may not be too late now. What do you think?”

“I can tell better after I have heard you, professor,” answered Philip.

“True, you can. Mr. de Gray,” continued the professor, lowering his voice, “notice how much attention we are receiving from the guests at the tables. They have doubtless read the notice of our evening entertainment.”

Philip looked round the room, which was of good size, and contained some thirty or more guests, and he saw that the professor was right.

He met several curious glances, some fair ladies expressing interest as well as curiosity, and his face flushed.

“Gratifying, isn't it?” said the professor, smiling.

“No, I don't think it is,” answered our hero.

“Why not?” demanded Professor Riccabocca, appearing amazed.

“If all were true, it might be,” replied Philip. “As it is, I feel like a humbug.”

“Humbug pays in this world,” said the professor cheerfully. “By the way, there's another little paragraph to which I will call your attention.”

Philip read this additional item:

“We understand that Professor Riecabocca and Mr. Philip de Gray have received a cable despatch from the Prince of Wales, inviting them to instruct his sons in elocution and music, at a very liberal salary. They have this proposal under consideration, though they are naturally rather reluctant to give up the plaudits of the public, even for so honorable a position.”

“Professor Riccabocca,” said Philip, considerably annoyed by this audacious invention, “you ought to have consulted me before publishing such a falsehood as this.”

“Falsehood, Mr. de Gray? Really I'm shocked! Gentlemen don't use such words, or make such charges.”

“You don't mean to say it's true that we have received any such telegram?”

“No; of course not.”

“Then why didn't I use the right word?”

“It's an innocent little fiction, my young friend—a fiction that will do no one any harm, but will cause us to be regarded with extraordinary interest.”

Here the thought occurred to Philip that he, the future instructor of British royalty, had only just escaped from a poorhouse, and it seemed to him so droll that he burst out laughing.

“Why do you laugh, Mr. de Gray?” asked the professor, a little suspiciously.

“I was thinking of something amusing,” said Philip.

“Well, well! We shall have cause to laugh when we play this evening to a crowded house.”

“I hope so. But, professor, if we keep together, you mustn't print any more such paragraphs about me. Of course, I am not responsible for what you say about yourself.”

“Oh, it will be all right!” said Riccabocca. “What are you going to do with yourself?”

“I shall practice a little in my room, for I want to play well to-night. When I get tired I shall take a walk.”

“Very wise—very judicious. I don't need to do it, being, as I may say, a veteran reader. I wouldn't rehearse if I were to play this evening before the president and all the distinguished men of the nation.”

“I don't feel so confident of myself,” said Philip.

“No, of course not. By the way, can you lend me fifty cents, Mr. de Gray?”

“Certainly.”

“I don't want to break a ten.”

Professor Riccabocca didn't mention that the only ten he had was a ten-cent piece.

Slipping Philip's half-dollar into his vest pocket, he said carelessly:

“We'll take this into the account when we divide the proceeds of the entertainment.”

“Very well,” said Philip.

He went up to his room and played for an hour or more, rehearsing the different pieces he had selected for the evening, and then, feeling the need of a little fresh air, he took a walk.

In different parts of the town he saw posters, on which his name was printed in large letters.

“It seems almost like a joke!” he said to himself.

Just then he heard his name called, and, looking up, he recognized a young fellow, of sixteen or thereabouts, who had formerly lived in Norton. It seemed pleasant to see a familiar face.

“Why, Morris Lovett,” he exclaimed “I didn't know you were here!”

“Yes; I'm clerk in a store. Are you the one that is going to give an entertainment tonight?”

“Yes,” answered Philip, smiling.

“I didn't know you were such a great player,” said Morris, regarding our hero with new respect.

He had read the morning paper.

“Nor I,” said Philip, laughing.

“Are you going to Europe soon?”

“It isn't decided yet!” Philip answered, laughing.

“I wish I had your chance.”

“Come and hear me this evening, at any rate,” said Philip. “Call at the hotel, at six o'clock, and I'll give you a ticket.”

“I'll be sure to come,” said Morris, well pleased.