to Cremona in Italy.  They form the connecting-link between the Brescian school of makers and the greatest of all makers, Straduarius and Guarnerius.] into my hands.  Well, I’ve only cut it open to-day—­not before to-day.  I hope Antonia has carefully taken the rest of it to pieces.”  “Antonia is a good child,” remarked the Professor.  “Yes, indeed, that she is,” cried the Councillor, whisking himself round; then, seizing his hat and stick, he hastily rushed out of the room.  I saw in the mirror how that tears were standing in his eyes.

As soon as the Councillor was gone, I at once urged the Professor to explain to me what Krespel had to do with violins, and particularly with Antonia.  “Well,” replied the Professor, “not only is the Councillor a remarkably eccentric fellow altogether, but he practises violin-making in his own crack-brained way.”  “Violin-making!” I exclaimed, perfectly astonished.  “Yes,” continued the Professor, “according to the judgment of men who understand the thing, Krespel makes the very best violins that can be found nowadays; formerly he would frequently let other people play on those in which he had been especially successful, but that’s been all over and done with now for a long time.  As soon as he has finished a violin he plays on it himself for one or two hours, with very remarkable power and with the most exquisite expression, then he hangs it up beside the rest, and never touches it again or suffers anybody else to touch it.  If a violin by any of the eminent old masters is hunted up anywhere, the Councillor buys it immediately, no matter what the price put upon it.  But he plays it as he does his own violins, only once; then he takes it to pieces in order to examine closely its inner structure, and should he fancy he hasn’t found exactly what he sought for, he in a pet throws the pieces into a big chest, which is already full of the remains of broken violins.”  “But who and what is Antonia?” I inquired, hastily and impetuously.  “Well, now, that,” continued the Professor,—­“that is a thing which might very well make me conceive an unconquerable aversion to the Councillor, were I not convinced that there is some peculiar secret behind it, for he is such a good-natured fellow at bottom as to be sometimes guilty of weakness.  When we came to H—–­, several years ago, he led the life of an anchorite, along with an old housekeeper, in ——­ Street.  Soon, by his oddities, he excited the curiosity of his neighbors; and immediately he became aware of this, he sought and made acquaintances.  Not only in my house but everywhere we became so accustomed to him that he grew to be indispensable.  In spite of his rude exterior, even the children liked him, without ever proving a nuisance to him; for, notwithstanding all their friendly passages together, they always retained a certain timorous awe of him, which secured him against all over-familiarity.  You have to-day had an example of the way in which he wins their hearts