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Updated: May 1, 2025
They looked at one another with lifted brows. Reinken's choral! and played with Reinken's very touch a gentle, hurrying rhythm ... as Reinken used to play it when he was young.... In a moment they understood. Tears stood in bewildered eyes and a look of sweet good-will swept the church. He had given back to them their own.
He raised his hand with a courteous gesture. "Let me be summoned later at the right time." The choirmaster bowed himself away. Already the notes of the great organ filled the church. It was Reinken's touch upon the keys feeble and tremulous here and there but still the touch of the master. With bent head Bach moved to a place a little apart and sat down.
And the notes of Reinken's choral, "An den Wasserflüssen Babylon," floated with a clear, fresh sound on the spring morning air, two hundred years ago, and more, as two charity pupils walked along the road to Lüneburg. A tall man with keen eyes and a round stomach stood in the shadow of the Johanneskirche, lost in thought and humming to himself.
He reached out his hand and touched the open page. "Nobody ever saw it," said Sebastian absently. He was humming to himself. "Listen to this!" he said eagerly. He hummed a few bars. "That's Buxtehude's isn't it great!" His face went tumpty-tumpty with the notes, and the blue eyes shone. "But this is the one I like best listen!" He turned over the pages rapidly. "Here it is. This is Reinken's.
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