WHEN THE CUCKOO CALLED

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1509, 31 January 1901, Page 25

WHEN THE CUCKOO CALLED

(By H. D. Umbstaetteri.)

The announcement that London music hall audiences are losing their heads and hearts over “The Girl with the Guitar’’ causes Mr Seymour Gaston to smile as he looks down upon the world from his offices on the nineteenth floor of a New

York sky-scraper. . Mr Gaston is an ingenious, much-travelled young bachelor with a history and a fortune. He recently invented a folding fire-escape, which also has a history, and .in which another fortune is said to await him. “The Girl 'with the Guitar”' is one of

the two Zillerfchaler sisters,’ whose permanent address is unknown . and t'who receive' two hundred guineas a night for , presenting their Tyrolean second-night seance. To sucli an extent do these mysterious maidens from

the mountains hypnotise the public that they appear nightly at four different

music halls: At the Alhambra they open the performance at eight o’clock, after ■which they are rushed by their manager in an automobile to the stage doof of the second musio hall, where they appear at eight forty-five, and so on, winding up at the Aquarium, at a few minutes before tea with two hundred guineas in their

pockets for the evening’s work. r . When the curtain rises upon their t :Ten-minutqT act it discloses, a typical Tyrolean scene l —dim mountains in the background, a sombre pine forest, a toy-like, gabled oottage m the distance. The lights are low and the stage is empty. The orchestra begins almost inaudibly a simple; melody, in the minor key. Presently a rich voice, that raises doubt in the mind of the listener as. to whether it is male or female, joins in!§. It is a song "of love, a serenade. The lights.grow dimmer. - A new sound steals into the concerted music of voice and instruments; there are strange, bizarre chord's and rippling -,arpeggios, and then the ' music is drowned in the

.hurst of wild applause that greets" the appearance of “The Girl with the Guitar.” She bows modestly, the lights; go up, the rich voice is heard again in a joyous yodel, and the sister, too, appears, dressed in the picturesque.'attire ofq&n Alpine ‘hunter. ' '-This, 'artistically 1 -prologue brings ' the audience . into closer sympathy with- what follows.' ; . “The: Girl with the Guitar,” '• unheed-’ l ing the applause and the demonstrations l of the male portion of the audience, seatsherself at the extreme right of the stage near the footlights. The sister is led, by the manager along a narrow platform projecting ? jnto the centre of the hall,! ' where, after-being blindfolded, she seats herself with' heir, hack to the stage, and .rfche .real performance begins, to the mut-

ed music of the orchestra and the sad fantastic chords of the guitar. The se-cond-sight seance progresses in the timehonoured' way, except that no word is spoken save by the blindfolded, sister, who accurately names and describes, in a clear, musical voice, each article as >t is borrowed from the audience and hold. __ up in silence before the footlights by the manager, some thirty feet behind her hack. . ' “A gold watch with a picture of a lady on its face” ; “a pair of pearl opera glasses” ; “a half-crown piece with - a hole in it” ; and' so on, the blindfolded girl describes the' exhibits as though Giey were held out before her naked eyes. She never falters, never misses, and the puzzled look that- comes to every face shows how completely she has mastered her art. But it is the strange, brilliant beauty and the fantastic music of "The Girl with the Guitar,' who, seemingly unconscious of her surroundings, gazes idly across the stage, that holds the breathless attention of the audience. Music like hers had never before been Heard from any instrument. It is absolutely unique; a new scale and new system of harmonics seem to have been, discovered by this sombre-eyed girl. It is her weird, haunting melodies that trouble the mind with strange thoughts, and the impression of mystical, occult powers at work, produced by the performance, is really traceable to this music and the mysterious personality of the girl which pervades and dominates it.-all. All this vividly recalls to Mr Gaston a ten-minute drama of life in which he once played a part,'"and which illustrates how a man can regain his lost peace of mind by being suddenly brought to the brink of eternity. Four years ago, while ho was managing the affairs of a large American enterprise in London, a cablegram announced to him one day that his business partner in the United States had robbed him of all he possessed. Brooding over his ruined business, to which he had given ten years of his life and sacrificed his health, his peace; of mind fled, and net travelled aimlessly over the Continent in search, of anything that might bring him sleep and help him to .-bury : the past. The doctors sent him to Baden-Baden, but he soon found -that the conventional watering place,where one reads suffering in every face, proved- an irritant 'tariffs insomnia. .The .more he came . in contact with humanity the more he felt drawn toward Nature. So he started"on a tour of the Black Forest. At Trie berg, the picturesque little village which stands on the. edge of a great waterfall high up in the dark, piiie-kddthed mountains, he found pleasure for a few days in visiting, the quaint cottages scattered through the surrounding wilderness where, the cuck-oo-clocks,- music boxes and wood, carvings are made that alwaj's' attract'foreigners. - The mountaineers carry these clocks and* carvings on the back'for

miles down the winding, perilous pathways to a public exhibition hall at irieberg, in which is kept a full line of samples for the convenience of purchasers'! But the novelty of these scenes soon wore off, and on the third day after his arrival Gaston, craving excitement, bribed the custodian of this exhibition hall to set off all the clocks and instruments at intervals of one second. The chorus of a thousand cuckoos, reinforced by the patriotic rendering of “Die Wacht am Rhein,” the William Tell overture, and “Die Lorelei” by scores of orchestrions and musicr-boxes, delighted him, but proved demoralising to a party of American tourists bent on doing Europe in ten days. Mistaking their excited brandishing of alpenstocks, umbrellas and Baedekers for demonstrations, oi approval, the keeper'kept up the performance until the inexorable schedule dragged the prospective purchasers away.' They liad spent the ten minutes allotted to the Black Forest.

In his wanderings and search for adventures, Gaston came one day upon what seemed like an unused trail that led higher up the mountain from an airiiost impenetrable jumble of recks'ana pines hear the waterfall.

“The Witches’ Path,”, exclaimed Ins landlord, when questioned, “and whoever follows it never returns.” It might have an outlet in another valley beyond, ho added, but, shaking his head, there were strange stories about the Witches’ Path, and while he could not verify them he knew that no one of his guests who had essayed to explore it had ever come bach. Sick of chattering men and women, harrowed night and day by his troubles, Gaston rejoiced in the prospect of an adventure of any kind, and while he smiled, afc the suggestion of danger lurking in the recesses of the Witches’ Path, he secretly hoped there might be. Life was not a joyful possession to Seymour Gaston in those days, and he cared little whether he lived or died. So, early’m the following morning, with a well-pro-visioned knapsack, on his back and an alpenstock in his hand he set out upon the Witches’ Path.

After ten- hours of climbing, crawling, sliding ana slipping over almost impassable rocks and through impossible thickets, the trail led into a stretch of forest so dense as to completely shut out the fading daylight, and the wanderer was glad to accept as a bed the thick, endless carpet of pine needles that lay stretched out before him. The following morning he resumed his journey, and at noon discovered, high on the mountain side what appeared like a grey tovhouse hidden among the rocks and pines.. After another hour of tiresome climbing he stood before a cottage built upon the very edge of an immense cleft. From far below echoed the hoarse booming of a mountain stream. ins knock was answered by a short, white-bearded! mountaineer with piercing grey eyes, who, upon learning that his visitor spoke merman, received him hospitably with the remark that it was seldom indeed that visitors came his way to brighten the lonely lives of himself and niece, who, he added, lived by making cuckoo clocks.

It required no urging on the part of. Kaspar Kellner, the cottager, to induce his guest to defer his return until the following day, and after supper, served by the mountaineer’s attractive 'young niece, the tourist was equally willing to join his host in a pipe and a game of ecarte, while the young lady looked on and played weird airs upon her guitar. Whether it was the strange quality ol her undeniable beauty and the sonibre mystery of .her eyes, or the music, Gastoa soon lost interest in the game. Although there seemed little purpose or training in her playing, the sounds seemed to hint at unfathomable things, at fancies such as Gaston supposed might visit the soul of one who had strayed from the paths of his fellowmen into an exotic, unhealthy world oh his own, where strange birds sang in a dusky, scented twilight. He played recklessly, lost steadily, and was repeatedly compelled! to resort to the Bank of England notes in his wallet. “You are in -bad 1 luck to-night. Shall we stop. You must be tired after your long tramp,” at last suggested the dost. Then, counting the money slowly and with evident pleasure, he handed to Gaston all the latter had lost. It was promptly pushed hack protestingly, whereupon Kollnor exclaimed, “Never! The pleasure is mine the money is yours. _ It is ,iny> custom to play for stakes, to lend interest to. the game, but the law' of hospitality forbids me keeping what - I win.” So Gaston returned the; money to his wallet and bade'his gene- ~ reus host and hostess good-night. Koll-> : ner led him to a large, low-studded room, on .the .upper floor,An .which every . article of furniture was elaborately .hand-carved* c - -‘The' masterpiece of RjgSjy | ex- : claimed Kollnoi*, as hp | with pride to a mammoth cuckoo-clock,s fully four feet wide and to the ceiling. “But our ptbudest'posses- - sion,” he continued, as he • led his puest through a tall French window upon a small verandah, “is this,”; pointing ! to a view that I caused Gaston to pause for breath. The balcony directly overhung the mighty gorge, and from the gtjlf of blackness far below rose the sound of the tumultuous . stream, whiles ah uncertain moon threw fantastic shadows, over the towering peaks .above.. ~ “Most wonderful of all,” continued fhe echo. ‘The Ghost of the Gorge’, 'as'it is called. You shall hear it at dawn.” With that he wound up and 1 set the big

clock, adding, “When the cuckoo calk, rise and come to this balcony.' My niece shall play from the rocks below and you will hear the spirit answer. Good-night!” ' # . As on many other weary nights, sleep refused to come to Gaston. He lay for hours listening to the,gurgle of the water and hearing it in echoes of the wild music of the guitar.; Towards morning a feverish slumber came, from which he was - aroused by the shnll “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” of the mechanical bird.

Clqd in . his pajamas he drowsily groped"his way in the;,dusk towards the balcony. He had almost' reached it ■when he overturned the chair which had! served to keep the window half o ea during the night.. In its outward fall it carried down the balcony with a crash, and Gaston, horror-stricken, ly kept his balance by grasping the 'Window casing. From the dark chasm rose the weird strains of the guitar; echoing through the gorge. The Lorelei was calling! But her notes were drowned by the shrill creaking of the iron hinge® upon ".which , the -balcony, now SWUng to and fro below Gaston, and which, like a flash, told him he had been,led to a man-trap of hellish ingenuity. 1

Distantly horror gave way .to anger, and the instinct of self-defence roused, him to action. For months he had been reckless of danger, almost courted death. Now he was seized with an almost overpowering desire' to live. He tmmed from the window and began to dress hurriedly when a noise attracted his attention to the cuckoo clock. Was it a hideous delusion? No! The thing was actually moving toward sthe centre of the room! In another instant Kollner appeared from an adjoining room through a door which the clock had concealed, his eyes glaring fiendishly as they rested upon the empty bed. Then, as he turned and, saw Gaston, his face became a mask of absolute fright and bewilderment. For a moment only he recoiled, then flung himself upon his guest with the fury of a beast. , • Each instantly realised that the struggle would be to the death. Frenzied by the miscarrying of his diabolical plot, the mountaineer struggled madly, blind13', for a grip that should enable him to hurl his adversary over the! mighty'precipice. .Foiled again and. again by the agility of Gaston, and forced to the defensive, he. turned towards the open door to escape. As he! did so Gaston rushed Upon him and pinned his arms’ ter his sides, and! pushed him inch by 1 inch to the open window, and!—Caspar Kollner reached the end of the, Witches’ Path! Ten minutes Gaston found the nietee quietly preparing breakfast. She looked surprised, but when he told her that'her uncle and not hei had answered the Lorelei’s call, she asked:, with naive innocence, what h© meant. It was only after he had! threatened to hand her over to the police at Tiiehdrg that she made this confession :

She had been brought up by her uncle, who- had invented the folding balcony, and who always engaged his guests in a game of cards-. Be invariably won) ~ because he had taught her as a .'child to signal, by means of notes and chords on the guitar, the cards held - by nent. He; thus.learned if his guests yrere supplied with money, and to gain, their full confidence returned all they had lost. He was thus enabled to st the man-trap from Ms 1 room below - ; ' n Althoughgorge held the remains<• of thiHyyictfms, it was a boast of his that he had; Bjpvesr killed a man, that each, had of " Ms, own free will walked into eternity. .. . Gaston had heard enough. ~, 'Hei did not stop for breakfast. He left- Triefberg the following .evening, and; thoughts of his business troubles no longer ; occupied hie mind. . When he' America, he: set to work to retrieve* , *his lost fortune, and the folding fire -escape, he tells his friends, was suggested fey something he, saw abroaid. - Gaston does not claim the gift l of ■second sight, but ha knows, he says, that in the, performance ,of tli© -Zillert-haleafs, the wpird by “The €Jii4 with the Guit!^i : describe to her : blindfolded]! sister borrowed of the ahdience.4--Ex©hu|npe. 5 . , • »• | | . • •