"Do," he said. "I am grateful. I do not even know the required notes."
Aubrey, leaning forward, carefully lifted the instrument, resting it
against his knees. He took a tuning-fork from his pocket.
"It is tuned in fifths," he said. "The open strings are A, D, G, C. You
can remember them, because they stand for 'Allowable Delights Grow
Commonplace'; or, read the other way up: 'Courage Gains Desired Aims.'"
With practised skill he rapidly tightened the four strings into harmony;
then, after carefully rosining the bow, rasped it with uncertain touch
across them. The Infant squealed, as if in dire pain. Ronnie winced,
obviously restraining himself with an effort from snatching his
precious 'cello out of Aubrey's hands.
It did not strike him as peculiar that a man who played the violin with
ease, should not be able to draw a clear tone from the open strings of a
'cello.
"I don't seem to make much of it," said Aubrey. "The 'cello is a
difficult instrument to play, and requires long practice." And again he
rasped the bow across the strings.
The Infant's wail of anguish gained in volume.
Ronnie sprang up, holding out eager hands. "Let _me_ try," he said. "It
must be able to make a better sound than that!"
As he placed the 'cello between his knees, a look of rapt content came
into his face. He slipped his left hand up and down the neck, letting
his fingers glide gently along the strings.
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