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HANDE L.
CHAPTER I.
STRONG WILL
IT is Sunday morning, and service is just over in the
private chapel of the Castle of Sächse-Weissenfels.
Some of the worshippers have left, but the Duke and
a confidential servant stand together down below,
while up in the organ-loft several musicians linger.
The organist lifts a little boy about seven years old
on to the high stool before the organ, and bids the
bellows blower do his duty, while the child's tiny
hands bring such music out of the instrument that
the bystanders look at one another and at him in
amazement.
"Who is playing ?" asks the Duke of his com-
panion, as the music rises and falls, dying away in
echoes under the vaulted roof.
"It is the little Handel from Halle, my grand-
father's youngest son," is the answer.
"Bring him and his father here to me," is the Dukes