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The Romany made a sudden rush towards the wall where the weapons hung, but two arms of iron were flung out and caught him, and he was hurled across the room. He crashed against a table, swayed, missed a chair where rested the Sarasate violin, then fell to the floor; but he staggered to his feet again, all his senses in chaos. "You almost fell on the fiddle.
Ingolby's quick perception saw, however, what his words had done, and he hastened to add: "I believe you can get more out of that fiddle than Sarasate ever could, in your own sort of music anyhow. I've never heard any one play half so well the kind of piece you played this afternoon. I'm glad I didn't make a fool of myself buying the fiddle. I didn't, did I? I gave five thousand dollars for it."
Then came another long pause and he talked again, and said the pieces he had been playing were composed by his chief favourite, Sarasate. He said that Sarasate had been one of the most famous guitarists in Spain, and had composed a good deal of music for the guitar before he had given it up for the violin.
Sarasate was born in Spain, in Pampeluna, the chief city of Navarre. He was a youthful prodigy, and played before the court of Madrid at the age of ten, when Queen Isabella was so delighted with him that she presented him with a fine Stradivarius violin.
All the unknown is as something wonderful. Sarasate. A famous Spanish violinist. Sleuth hound. Detective. The Sholto murder and the Agra treasure. This refers to another Sherlock Holmes story, The Sign of Four, which you may enjoy reading. Napoleons. French gold coins worth 20 francs each. Partie carrée. A party of four. L'homme c'est rien l'oeuvre c'est tout.
Sarasate was a virtuoso in the best sense of the word; and yet as an ensemble music player he fell far short of Joachim. As I see it 'virtuoso' is a kind of flattering title, no more.
The Romany made a sudden rush towards the wall where the weapons hung, but two arms of iron were flung out and caught him, and he was hurled across the room. He crashed against a table, swayed, missed a chair where rested the Sarasate violin, then fell to the floor; but he staggered to his feet again, all his senses in chaos. "You almost fell on the fiddle.
Moving on slowly further toward the altar, he was suddenly seized by an overpowering impression, a memory that rushed upon him with a sort of shock, albeit it was only the memory of a tune! a wild melody, haunting and passionate, rang in his eras, the melody that Sarasate, the Orpheus of Spain, had evoked from the heart of his speaking violin, the sobbing love-lament of the "Zigeunerweisen" the weird minor-music that had so forcibly suggested What?
And the pity of it is, that the English get judged abroad chiefly by what their own journalists say of them, thus, if Sarasate is coldly criticised, foreigners laugh at the 'UNmusical English, whereas, the fact is that the nation itself is NOT unmusical, but its musical critics mostly are.
When he was not in raptures over the poetry, subtlety, or depth of his own playing or compositions, he would give way to paroxysms of malice and derision at the expense of some other musician, from his East Side rivals all the way up to Sarasate, who was then at the height of his career and had recently played in New York.
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