He rolled up the music, and without thinking another coherent thought started down the steps. But yet a greater shock came to him as he moved in towards the orchestra. Caffarelli himself had just come in, and was in the very act of kissing the Contessa’s hand.
Well, that was the end of it, surely, he felt. No one would expect him to sing in front of Caffarelli. Yet even as he was trying to decide if this was good or bad, Guido appeared.
“Do you need more time?” he asked immediately. “Are you ready now?”
“Guido, Caffarelli’s just come in,” he whispered. His hands felt clammy. He wanted to do it, and to get clean out of all this at the same time. No, he couldn’t sing in front of Caffarelli.
But Guido was sneering in the direction of the great castrato. Tonio glimpsed him for an instant as the crowd rolled back and then came together, and it seemed even here the man exuded some immense power as he had years ago on the Venetian stage. It seemed Tonio could hear him laughing.
“Now do as I tell you,” Guido said. “Let the Contessa set the pace. I will follow her and you do so as well.”
“But Guido—” Tonio started, and than it seemed he was powerless to speak. This was a mistake of incredible magnitude. But Guido was even now slipping away.
Maestro Cavalla had just appeared with Benedetto, and Guido, shifting back quickly to Tonio, said, “Go on to the harpsichord now, and wait.”
It seemed he did not know where to put his arms. He had the music in hand but how high should he hold it? Suddenly it dawned on him that this was the hostess herself singing and everyone would have to pay strict attention; what had Guido done! And there was the Maestro staring at him and of course Benedetto was looking at him also, and someone had taken Caffarelli aside. Caffarelli was nodding, ooooh God! Why did Caffarelli have to be so damned gracious tonight when he was intolerable at other times! Why couldn’t he have threatened to storm out? Caffarelli’s eyes caught hold of Tonio, as they had three years ago for an instant in a Venetian drawing room.
But a hush was falling over the assemblage, and servants appeared from everywhere carrying little padded chairs. The ladies were taking their seats and the gentlemen filling up the doorways as if to cut off any possible escape.
The little Contessa’s small plump hand suddenly touched his wrist and he turned to see her with her hair powdered and daintily curled. She looked so very pretty. She rocked her head from side to side as she hummed the first few bars of her song which would open the serenade right after the introduction and then she winked.
It seemed then he’d forgotten something, that he must ask her some question, a thought was deviling him, but he could not think what it was. Then he realized he had not seen his yellow-haired girl. Where was she? They couldn’t begin without her, surely she would want to be here, and surely she must be, and in a moment he would see her face.
The room was silent now save for the rustle of taffeta and Tonio saw with sudden panic that Guido’s hands were poised over the keys. The violinists lifted their bows. The music commenced in a lovely throbbing of the strings.
It seemed he closed his eyes just for an instant, and when he opened them again, he was visited by the most complete calm. It was warmth, gradual, infinitely comforting, in which he felt himself inhabit his body, his breaths coming regularly and with a renewed ease. Each face before him was distinct, the mass of congealing colors melting to the hundreds who in actuality were in this room. And he even peered for a moment at Caffarelli, who sat among these ordinary men and women looking remarkably like a lion.
The violins were prancing. The horns in perfect golden notes came in, then all together they pulsed with the melody so that Tonio could not resist moving with it just slightly, and when they stopped, resuming in a sadder, slower vein, he felt himself drifting, his eyes now safely blind.
What he saw next was the little Contessa as the harpsichord led her to her first notes. The cellos were behind it, so soft they sounded like low breath. And then her little head rocked back