The late fall was windy even in Lowbridge, which was a little sheltered from the wind whipping the sea on the headwaters of the Four Winds. Throughout the fall, Walter had been sparklingly happy, as he often taken peaceful walks with Tadzio after the Harvest Dance, on weekends, weather permitting. Tadzio refused to invite Walter to his own rental room, rejecting the requests, sternly but kindly saying, "It's not your place, it's hardly even my place, so it is better to be outside. "

So sometimes they sat, in November nights on Dr. Parker's wide porch, or in the blackened sleeping garden, and drank tea, in a confusion of limbs on a blanket, as Alice knitted or read novels aloud, and Tadzio played his violin in the darkness of the evening, the enchanting bright tones seemed to invite the stars to dance.

Walter, looked at both of them, the golden, Alice, and vivid, living Tadzio, who was pale and seemed worn down, but still he, felt happy, and inspired, with a splash of ink on his cheek, as he, pressed his pen to the pages of his red notebook and wrote charmed poems.

Dr Parker was not seen at all, Alice sometimes reported that he only worked, till all hours of the day, as was the usual lot of the coutry doctor.

Month passed.

It was now December, and Tadzio was not seen, or was not heard anywhere. It was very peculiar, so feeling worried Walter, went to find him. The poor area of Lowbridge was not a slum, or like the Harbor area in the direction of Glen, but it was somehow a little cramped, with rows of rundown houses with flabby planks, and ragged children, and a well where tired, gray-faced women picked up water, possibly for washing laundry, or late supper preparations. The December had been, very mild and there was not a snow in sight yet.

They all stared at Walter, firmly, and he felt a sting of shame, that he had soft mittens, and his gray woolen scarf with Susan's shell stich on them. Raising his posture, Walter inquired in his best teacher voice, "Do you happen to know where violinist Tadzio lives." The children laughed and poked each other with their dirty fingers, and one woman said, "That Italian is on the second floor of this street, that corned building there, but good lord, if I were you, I wouldn't go there. "

"Why?" Walter asked.

The woman sighed, and said, " Strange set of those Italians, always pursuing unmentionable vices, if you know what I mean, and for that some men gave him a good tannin, a week or so ago. The violin has not been played since. Little Masie, before she took ill, said to me that the violinist went to the shops, and that he took water from this well, as we all do here. "

Face stiff, and pale Walter walked in the direction indicated by the woman. With the lightest steps, Walter climbed the worn, slightly stained stairs to the second floor and knocked the door, on the end of a hallway.

No reply.

He knocked harder.

Eventually, after a little eternity, the door cracked open and Tadzio stood in front of him. There was a ragged blanket on his shoulders, and he had a plaid shirt and black trousers. His face was pale, and he seemed to have a big bruise on his face, and his large dark eyes were full of tears as he whispered, "Merlo, you can't be here, are you, really, or is this another fever? They come and go, the dreams, I mean, and my head is splitting. I have not played in week, or it can be more already. "

With the softest, warmest fingers, Walter touched Tadzio's face, and at his touch tears flowed down the young man's face. Resolutely Walter said, " You have to leave here, come with me to Ms. Collings, she is extremely kind, and she will take care of you. Soon, you will get hot broth and strong tea. "

Tadzio, glanced at Walter, shook his head, and then grimaced, and sat down carefully on his bed, which was neatly made, but the bedding was not Susan´s grade at all, and he just sighed.

"Well, if you refuse to come to Ms. Collings, with me, will you go to Alice? Her father is a doctor and can certainly help, and has sworn an oath to help everyone. " Walter inquired. At his words, a light, slightly sleepy smile brightened Tadzio's face and he said softly, " I have tea, and some food, here, I manage, I will be on my feet in a couple of days, I´m sure of it, this is just a heavy cold. Merlo, in this light, you look just like an angel."

Hours passed, gentle flowing, amid cold water, and tea, that were drunk from cracked cups. Walter read aloud to him, small snippets of poetry, first Longfellow, then Shelley, and finally his own work a new sonnet sequence.

"That last, sequence is really beautiful, I would like to compose, it but I have not the strenght to do so. Has it got a name yet?" Walter glanced at Tadzio, and softly said "It is called Moment in August." So with soft fingers, he lightly brushed the dark curls, and covered Tadzio propely with his own warm scarf, and said, "I'll be back as soon as I´m able, in a few days or so. "

Drowsy voice called, "There's an old nail in that door jamb, and it hangs, two keys, take one of them for yourself, I would like that. It is late, and I´m tired, and so good night."

Humming Elgar, Walter secreted the key in his pocket, the metal of it felt cold, but soon it warmed, twined in of his fingers as it were. For the first time in his life he felt whole, and as he descended the stairs, a voice came from above him, "Call the doctor, little Maisie is getting worse!"

So Walter ran, faster than perhaps ever before, towards Alice's house. But Dr Parker wasn't home, as he was on a call."There is always, sick childen in late influenca season. No need to bring the roof over my head about it" . Parker informed him in a curt, but kind tone. Then Ms. Dr. Parker said calmly. " Alice is at her friends place, tonight, it is not proper to be asking after her this late. Go to bed now, as only owls, bandits, gypsies and italians are out so late."

Ms Collings knitted in the living room and a steaming hot teapan rumbled on the stove. Ms Collings came to greet Walter as he came in, and said, "Dear lad, where have you been." Encouraged by the kindness of Ms. Collings, Walter asked compelled by an impulse, "I have an acquaintance who is in a bad way and here I was wondering if he could come here to rest, for awhile, I will naturally pay for it."

Ms. Collings open face narrowed, and she said, "I help girls who get into trouble, as you know, I do it very rarely, and I don't do for men at all. So tell your acquaintance that he can by mercury as, it usually helps."

And resolutely Ms. Collings turned her back on Walter, and her kintting needels rang against each other, as she went to the kitchen, to look at her now very steeped tea, and muttered, "Maybe that boy isn't as decent as I thought. Oh, girls, girls, always so loyal, but, there's something almost Greek about that Blythe boy. Well, that's a complete nonsense, Margaret Collings."

And so Walter went upstairs wondering all the way why so friendly Ms Collings had sounded so stern, and how would mercury help lowering fever?

Near dawn he woke with a headache, that did not abate, during the following week of teaching at all. The children were undisciplined, and there were a loud noises in the classroom, as the Christmas break would soon begin. Annoyed, Walter rubbed his temples and wondered if Tadzio was feeling better, he hoped that he would be.

The week was harsh, and full of aches and pains, in Walter´s joints, that came and went, but somehow he managed to teach that week through, and Walter declared, "A peaceful Christmas break for everyone, see you next year!" His pupils cheered, and ran outside with a wim and heart warming first snow had rained, and a light cold gauze covered the ground.

Humming, Walter walked slowly towards Alice's house. It looked like a Snow Queens palace in the shady gloom of December´s watery light. The maid let him know that Miss Alice was in the garden, and so Walter went there. Frost had lifted roses to her cheeks and she looked like a prayer book angel, and in a pensive tone Alice said." Good evening Walter, Mother said that you had something very important, to say to me, what was it, then? And if it was so important why did you not leave me a note."

Walter took a deep breath and looked at Alice and told her in a few intermittent sentences what condition he had found Tadzio in last week. The color on Alice's face, paled, despite the frost-roses, and she whispered " I'll help, but I have to think about how to proceed. You can't go there, not so soon, as it will be suspicious, nor can I, as it would not be proper, so the only option is Father. Give me an hour, or so, and if you have the key give it here. Dear friend, do come out from the cold, you look a bit peaky, and call the maid for tea, if you want any."

Alone in the frost, and snow, Walter looked at the sky, the stars seemed strangely close, and the snow dazzled his eyes more than usual. With a swift motion, he took a handful of snow into his hand, and pressed it to his temple, the incisive cold, easing the drowsiness that now seemed to be in his bones.

Alice knocked lightly on her father's office door, but he wasn't there, but she heard him talking on a phone, in the hallway. His voice echoed as it always did, as he had not figured out that there was no need to shout if one was talking to a phone. "Yes, the epidemic has been raging there for weeks, it's already a wonder it hasn't spread here. Don't worry Gilbert, Walter is in just fine fettle, my wife saw him last week, it was very late, he came to ask after Alice.."

Shaking her head at her Fathers innuendo, Alice walked in her flowing way, over to her father after the call had ended. His shirt was wrinkled and he had deep shadows under his eyes. Raising his eyebrows, Dr. Parker said, in his gruff way, "Alice, whatever you want, shouldn't you, be doing your craft or reciting your Latin, or talking about literature or music of some sort with Blythe's son." Breathing deeply, Alice said in her a cold clear voice, "Do you remember the violinist who played so beautifully at the Harvest Dance? Well I heard through acquaintances that he's in a bad way and I want you to go see him today. " Alice, Alice, your gentle heart is going to be your ruin one day. I don't have time right now, as I'm just going to consult for a difficult case. There is a child, in the grip of a severe typhoid fever at poor area of Lowbridge. As for that violinist, that handsome boy will surely get better and will break many hearts, but there is no reason for you to be counted among them. No, not look at me like that, darling! It is no use, at all. "

Alice found Walter lying down, on the very dreadful sofa, in the living room. As Alice felt his skin, it was the tint of ivory, and he was burning up. He didn't wake up, despite several attempts. So feeling worried, and remembering Tadzio´s condition that Walter had, in his unassuming way reported, Alice raised her voice and shouted, "Father, there is something's wrong with Walter." At the sound of his daughters voice, Dr. Parker, hurriedly ran from his office with his tie open, and he pushed his daughter aside. Minutes passed, and finally Dr. Parker said

"Alice call Ingelside, right away."

Why divine angels would take form of Alice of Lowbridge? The room seemed very familiar, like Ingelside, but why was Alice here, and where was Tadzio, why wasn't he here too, playing his violin, in Ingelside's living room, and praising Susan's cooking? As he was planning to do at Christmas-time, as they had planned together? Everything hurt, so Walter closed his eyes, again, and black emptiness beconed him, towards oblivion, his pulse rushed fast, and beads of sweat glistened in his pale forehead.

Restless Anne Blythe walked in her sons room, and prayed, and she thought of a cross shining in the moonlight, and the face of young Walter, and thought, "The Creator is not so cruel as to take my son away from me, not yet." Suddenly there were busy steps, and Alice slipped next to her as she whispered, in her clear light voice "I swear that he blinked for a moment, and didn't seem to realize where he was." Anne nodded, and went back to her lonely vigil at his sons bedside. There was a soft sound of a door closing.

Alice, the fair Alice, slipped outside. She rattled her prayer beads in her pocket and walked restlessly in the freezing air, it stung, but that was better than numbness that she had felt in her marrow since September, the numness that was spreading, as if her heart was slowly turning into ice chip so, she turned towards the episcopalian church of Lowbridge..

Rumors rushed along the streets of Glen and Lowbridge, like flying birds, and no one remembered the Italian-looking violinist who, for a few months, had filled the girls 'hearts with secret desires, playing his violin so beautifully and skillfully. That violin was now abandoned, and forever silent.

The wind rose, the snowy and incisively cold wind, it lifted snow crystals into the sky and the cold and ruthless moon shone in the sky.