town, his sharp eyes peering into windows, his ears straining for the sound of a violin. Whenever he discovered someone playing an old violin, he would either buy it or trade something valuable for it.
He had collected so many old violins that they nearly filled his entire house. At first, he carefully arranged the instruments on shelves and in drawers. But soon, there were too many, and the shelves overflowed. The instruments began to take up every bit of free space.
Violins piled up in the corners, lay under tables, and even on chairs. From time to time, one of them would fall to the floor with a dull thud, making the Treasurer tap his cane against the floor in irritation. “What a curse!” he hissed under his breath, snatching up the fallen instrument. “But no matter. One of them must be the one!”
Sometimes, as he paced through the room, his cloak or cane would accidentally catch on a violin, sending it tumbling down with a shrill discordant note. These sounds annoyed him greatly, yet he didn’t dare throw a single violin away. The thought haunted him: “What if this one is the magical one?”
The room where he kept the violins resembled a chaotic museum. Dust gathered on the floor, the strings of many instruments were broken, and some of the bodies had cracked. Even the servants, who occasionally came to tidy up the house, avoided entering this room, fearing they might break something or incur the Treasurer’s wrath.
Over time, the violins began to interfere with the Treasurer himself. He couldn’t cross the room without snagging his cloak or cane on one of them. The entire house seemed to have fallen victim to his obsession, and the Treasurer grew increasingly frustrated.
Nevertheless, he continued his search, buying up more and more violins. Each new acquisition brought him a glimmer of hope – that perhaps this one would be the one he sought. This hope kept his living amidst the growing chaos, driven by his greed and fear.
The treasurer had already scoured the town center, buying up every old violin he could find. But because Dany lived on the outskirts, the Treasurer knew nothing about him.
One late evening, as the Treasurer was returning from another of his outings, he heard the distant sound of a beautiful melody. He was certain he had bought every violin in the town, so the music struck him as particularly strange and distinct. It was a tender and luminous melody, unlike the harsh, uneven sounds of the instruments he had collected. Its sound was astonishingly pure and magical.
He froze in the middle of the deserted street, listened intently. The music floated from somewhere far away – he couldn’t pinpoint the source, but he knew it came from the outskirts of the town. Determined, he resolved to find the source of this music. Somehow, deep in his bones, he felt – this was the magical violin.
Turn after turn, step by step, he drifted through the quiet streets, as if the melody were an invisible thread pulling him forward. Sometimes the music would fade, and he would stop in irritation, straining his ears as though afraid of losing the trail. But then the wind would carry the melody back to him, and his eyes would ignite with excitement. “This is it,” he whispered to himself. “It must be. Only the magical violin could produce such sounds.”
After a long journey through the winding streets, he found himself on the outskirts of the town in a poor neighborhood where the houses leaned against one another, their shutters crooked and their windows dimly lit. The music grew louder and clearer.
Turning another corner, he suddenly spotted a small house, faint light spilling out from within. That was where the music was coming from.
The Treasurer crept closer, his breath shallow. Through the window, he noticed the silhouette of a boy sitting on a chair, holding a violin. The boy played with such focus that he seemed unaware of anything else around him. The music filled the air, as if even the night itself had paused to listen.
Chapter 4. DECEPTION
The Treasurer stopped beneath the window, pressing a hand to his chest, he willed his racing heart to steady. Then he rested his chin on his cane, pondering how best to start the conversation.
He gently tapped the window frame with his cane, careful not to startle the boy, and spoke in a soothing voice:
“What beautiful music, my boy. I’ve never heard anything like it before. Is that your violin?”
Dany looked up, startled, and answered hesitantly:
“Yes, it’s mine.”
“An extraordinary instrument! I’ve spent years collecting violins, but I’ve never heard such a sound. You’re incredibly lucky to have such a violin. Perhaps you could tell me where it came from?”
“It was my grandfather’s. He brought it from a distant journey. And a kind organ grinder told me that if I played the Moon Melody on it every evening, my illness would go away, and I’d be able to walk again.”
The Treasurer spoke with a tone of sympathy:
“My boy, you know, I understand quite a bit about violins. Let me be honest with you: your violin is rare, yes, but it’s far too old. Its body is worn, its strings are frayed. There’s sound, of course, but it’s not the kind of instrument that can truly bring out the full power of a melody.”
“But my violin has always sounded beautiful… You just said yourself that you liked the melody,” Dany replied cautiously.
The Treasurer exhaled slowly, shifting his weight onto his cane.
“Ah, my boy, music isn’t just about what we hear. Its power lies in how it touches the heart. But on such an old violin, like yours, the true strength of the melody cannot be revealed. You may be playing the Moon Melody, but… has it granted your wish?”
Dany hesitated; his voice uncertain:
“N-no… but the organ grinder said I should play it every evening.”
The Treasurer furrowed his brow, as if deep in thought, and then continued:
“Yes, yes… but did he say you had to play it on this violin? Here’s what I think: your instrument cannot unlock the full power of the melody. It’s too old. That’s likely why your wish hasn’t come true.”
“You think it’s because of the violin?” Dany asked, his voice filled with worry.
The Treasurer smiled slyly:
“Of course. You deserve a finer instrument – one worthy of your talent, one that will finally unleash the true power and the depth of your music. If you’d like, I can bring you a new violin. A true masterpiece, with a bright, rich sound. On such an instrument, you’ll surely be able to play the Moon Melody as it’s meant to be played.”
“You really could do that?” Dany asked hopefully.
“Yes, my boy,” the Treasurer said with confidence. “Tomorrow, I’ll bring you the finest violin, and you’ll see how everything changes. In return, you can give me your old violin, so I can take care of it. What do you say?”
After a moment’s thought, Dany replied:
“If you’re sure it will help, then… I agree.”
The next day, the Treasurer returned to Dany’s house, carrying a brand-new, beautifully polished violin. Its strings gleamed, and its varnished body shone, catching the light.
“Here it is,” the Treasurer exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “Look at this beauty! Isn’t it extraordinary? Truly magical!”
“It really does look wonderful!” Dany said, delighted.
Handing the violin to the boy, the Treasurer said:
“Here. Try it. I’m certain that with this instrument, your Moon Melody will finally sound as it was meant to.”
Dany took the new violin and carefully drew the bow across the strings. The sound was pleasant, but something was missing.
“It