He sighed, and, striking a chord, sang out boldly the old air from the _Trovatore_, "Ah, che la morte ognora e tarda nel venir." Every blind fiddler in the streets plays it, though he would be sufficiently scared if death came any the quicker for his fiddling.

But old and worn as it is it has a strain of passion in it, and Nino threw more fire and voice into the ring of it than ever did famous old Boccarde, when he sang it at the first performance of the opera, thirty and odd years ago.

As he played the chords after the first strophe, the voice from above whispered again: "Hush! for Heaven's sake!" Just that, and something fell at his feet, with a soft little padded sound on the pavement.

He stooped to pick it up, and found a single rose; and at that instant the window closed sharply.

Therefore he kissed the rose and hid it, and presently he strode down the street, finishing his song as he went, but only humming it, for the joy had taken his voice away.