'Oh, play to us once more,' they added, as he rose to go,--'only once more!' "'I will improvise a sonata to the moonlight,' said he, gazing thoughtfully upon the liquid stars shining so softly out of the depths of a cloudless winter sky.

Then he played a sad and infinitely lovely movement, which crept gently over the instrument, like the calm flow of moonlight over the earth.

This was followed by a wild, elfin passage in triple time--a sort of grotesque interlude, like the dance of fairies upon the lawn.

Then came a swift agitated ending--a breathless, hurrying, trembling movement, descriptive of flight, and uncertainty, and vague impulsive terror, which carried us away on its rustling wings, and left us all in emotion and wonder.

'Farewell to you,' he said, as he rose and turned toward the door.