This extreme distress was relieved for a time, at the beginning of July, by the sale of my Vaisseau Fantome, which meant my final renunciation of my success in Paris.  As long as the five hundred francs lasted, I had an interval of respite for carrying on my work.  The first object on which I spent my money was on the hire of a piano, a thing of which I had been entirely deprived for months.  My chief intention in so doing was to revive my faith in myself as a musician, as, ever since the autumn of the previous year, I had exercised my talents as a journalist and adapter of operas only.  The libretto of the Fliegender Hollander, which I had hurriedly written during the recent period of distress, aroused considerable interest in Lehrs; he actually declared I would never write anything better, and that the Fliegender Hollander would be my Don Juan; the only thing now was to find the music for it.  As towards the end of the previous winter I still entertained the hopes of being permitted to treat this subject for the French Opera, I had already finished some of the words and music of the lyric parts, and had had the libretto translated by Emile Deschamps, intending it for a trial performance, which, alas, never took place.  These parts were the ballad of Senta, the song of the Norwegian sailors, and the ‘Spectre Song’ of the crew of the Fliegender Hollander.  Since that time I had been so violently torn away from the music that, when the piano arrived at my rustic retreat, I did not dare to touch it for a whole day.  I was terribly afraid lest I should discover that my inspiration had left me—­when suddenly I was seized with the idea that I had forgotten to write out the song of the helmsman in the first act, although, as a matter of fact, I could not remember having composed it at all, as I had in reality only just written the lyrics.  I succeeded, and was pleased with the result.  The same thing occurred with the ‘Spinner’s Song,’ and when I had written out these two pieces, and, on further reflection, could not help admitting that they had really only taken shape in my mind at that moment, I was quite delirious with joy at the discovery.  In seven weeks the whole of the music of the Fliegender Hollander, except the orchestration, was finished.

Thereupon followed a general revival in our circle; my exuberant good spirits astonished every one, and my Avenarius relations in particular thought I must really be prospering, as I was such good company.  I resumed my long walks in the woods of Meudon, frequently even consenting to help Minna gather mushrooms, which, unfortunately, were for her the chief charm of our woodland retreat, though it filled our landlord with terror when he saw us returning with our spoils, as he felt sure we should be poisoned if we ate them.