robert falconer- 第36部分

felt　for　the　first　time　the　sadness　of　a　harvest…field。　　Then　the

wind　swept　away　to　the　pine…covered　hill；　and　raised　a　rushing　and　a

wailing　amongst　its　thin…clad　branches；　and　to　the　ear　of　Robert　the

trees　were　singing　over　again　in　their　night　solitudes　the　air　sung

by　the　cottar's　family。　　When　he　looked　to　the　north…west；　whence

the　wind　came；　he　saw　nothing　but　a　pale　cleft　in　the　sky。　　The

meaning；　the　music　of　the　night　awoke　in　his　soul；　he　forgot　his

lame　foot；　and　the　weight　of　Mr。　Lammie's　great　boots；　ran　home　and

up　the　stair　to　his　own　room；　seized　his　violin　with　eager　haste；

nor　laid　it　down　again　till　he　could　draw　from　it；　at　will；　a　sound

like　the　moaning　of　the　wind　over　the　stubble…field。　　Then　he　knew

that　he　could　play　the　Flowers　of　the　Forest。　　The　Wind　that　Shakes

the　Barley　cannot　have　been　named　from　the　barley　after　it　was　cut；

but　while　it　stood　in　the　field：　the　Flowers　of　the　Forest　was　of

the　gathered　harvest。



He　tried　the　air　once　over　in　the　dark；　and　then　carried　his　violin

down　to　the　room　where　Mr。　and　Miss　Lammie　sat。



'I　think　I　can　play　't　noo；　Mr。　Lammie；'　he　said　abruptly。



'Play　what；　callant？'　asked　his　host。



'The　Flooers　o'　the　Forest。'



'Play　awa'　than。'



And　Robert　playednot　so　well　as　he　had　hoped。　　I　dare　say　it　was　a

humble　enough　performance；　but　he　gave　something　at　least　of　the

expression　Mr。　Lammie　desired。　　For；　the　moment　the　tune　was　over；

he　exclaimed；



'Weel　dune；　Robert　man！　ye'll　be　a　fiddler　some　day　yet！'



And　Robert　was　well　satisfied　with　the　praise。



'I　wish　yer　mother　had　been　alive；'　the　farmer　went　on。　'She　wad　hae

been　rael　prood　to　hear　ye　play　like　that。　　Eh！　she　likit　the　fiddle

weel。　　And　she　culd　play　bonny　upo'　the　piana　hersel'。　　It　was

something　to　hear　the　twa　o'　them　playing　thegither；　him　on　the

fiddlethat　verra　fiddle　o'　's　father's　'at　ye　hae　i'　yer　han'and

her　on　the　piana。　　Eh！　but　she　was　a　bonnie　wuman　as　ever　I　saw；　an'

that　quaiet！　　It's　my　belief　she　never　thocht　aboot　her　ain　beowty

frae　week's　en'　to　week's　en'；　and　that's　no　sayin'　littleis　't；

Aggy？'



'I　never　preten't　ony　richt　to　think　aboot　sic；'　returned　Miss

Lammie；　with　a　mild　indignation。



'That's　richt；　lass。　　Od；　ye're　aye　i'　the　richtthough　I　say　't

'at　sudna。'



Miss　Lammie　must　indeed　have　been　good…natured；　to　answer　only　with

a　genuine　laugh。　　Shargar　looked　explosive　with　anger。　　But　Robert

would　fain　hear　more　of　his　mother。



'What　was　my　mother　like；　Mr。　Lammie？'　he　asked。



'Eh；　my　man！　ye　suld　hae　seen　her　upon　a　bonnie　bay　mere　that　yer

father　gae　her。　　Faith！　she　sat　as　straught　as　a　rash；　wi'　jist　a

hing　i'　the　heid　o'　her；　like　the　heid　o'　a　halm　o'　wild　aits。'



'My　father　wasna　that　ill　till　her　than？'　suggested　Robert。



'Wha　ever　daured　say　sic　a　thing？'　returned　Mr。　Lammie；　but　in　a

tone　so　far　from　satisfactory　to　Robert；　that　he　inquired　no　more　in

that　direction。



I　need　hardly　say　that　from　that　night　Robert　was　more　than　ever

diligent　with　his　violin。









CHAPTER　XXI。



THE　DRAGON。



Next　day；　his　foot　was　so　much　better　that　he　sent　Shargar　to

Rothieden　to　buy　the　string；　taking　with　him　Robert's　school…bag；　in

which　to　carry　off　his　Sunday　shoes；　for　as　to　those　left　at　Dooble

Sanny's；　they　judged　it　unsafe　to　go　in　quest　of　them：　the　soutar

could　hardly　be　in　a　humour　fit　to　be　intruded　upon。



Having　procured　the　string；　Shargar　went　to　Mrs。　Falconer's。

Anxious　not　to　encounter　her；　but；　if　possible；　to　bag　the　boots

quietly；　he　opened　the　door；　peeped　in；　and　seeing　no　one；　made　his

way　towards　the　kitchen。　　He　was　arrested；　however；　as　he　crossed

the　passage　by　the　voice　of　Mrs。　Falconer　calling；　'Wha's　that？'

There　she　was　at　the　parlour　door。　　It　paralyzed　him。　　His　first

impulse　was　to　make　a　rush　and　escape。　　But　the　bootshe　could　not

go　without　at　least　an　attempt　upon　them。　　So　he　turned　and　faced

her　with　inward　trembling。



'Wha's　that？'　repeated　the　old　lady；　regarding　him　fixedly。　'Ow；

it's　you！　　What　duv　ye　want？　　Ye　camna　to　see　me；　I'm　thinkin'！

What　hae　ye　i'　that　bag？'



'I　cam　to　coff　（buy）　twine　for　the　draigon；'　answered　Shargar。



'Ye　had　twine　eneuch　afore！'



'It　bruik。　　It　wasna　strang　eneuch。'



'Whaur　got　ye　the　siller　to　buy　mair？　　Lat's　see　't？'



Shargar　took　the　string　from　the　bag。



'Sic　a　sicht　o'　twine！　　What　paid　ye　for　't？'



'A　shillin'。'



'Whaur　got　ye　the　shillin'？'



'Mr。　Lammie　gae　't　to　Robert。'



'I　winna　hae　ye　tak　siller　frae　naebody。　　It's　ill　mainners。　　Hae！'

said　the　old　lady；　putting　her　hand　in　her　pocket；　and　taking　out　a

shilling。　'Hae；'　she　said。　'Gie　Mr。　Lammie　back　his　shillin'；　an'

tell　'im　'at　I　wadna　hae　ye　learn　sic　ill　customs　as　tak　siller。

It's　eneuch　to　gang　sornin'　upon　'im　（exacting　free　quarters）　as　ye

du；　ohn　beggit　for　siller。　　Are　they　a'　weel？'



'Ay；　brawly；'　answered　Shargar；　putting　the　shilling　in　his　pocket。



In　another　moment　Shargar　had；　without　a　word　of　adieu；　embezzled

the　shoes；　and　escaped　from　the　house　without　seeing　Betty。　　He　went

straight　to　the　shop　he　had　just　left；　and　bought　another　shilling's

worth　of　string。



When　he　got　home；　he　concealed　nothing　from　Robert；　whom　he　found

seated　in　the　barn；　with　his　fiddle；　waiting　his　return。



Robert　started　to　his　feet。　　He　could　appropriate　his　grandfather's

violin；　to　which；　possibly；　he　might　have　shown　as　good　a　right　as

his　grandmothercertainly　his　grandfather　would　have　accorded　it

himbut　her　money　was　sacred。



'Shargar；　ye　vratch！'　he　cried；　'fess　that　shillin'　here　direckly。

Tak　the　twine　wi'　ye；　and　gar　them　gie　ye　back　the　shillin'。'



'They　winna　brak　the　bargain；'　cried　Shargar；　beginning　almost　to

whimper；　for　a　savoury　smell　of　dinner　was　coming　across　the　yard。



'Tell　them　it's　stown　siller；　and　they'll　be　in　het　watter　aboot　it

gin　they　dinna　gie　ye　't　back。'



'I　maun　hae　my　denner　first；'　remonstrated　Shargar。



But　the　spirit　of　his　grandmother　was　strong　in　Robert；　and　in　a

matter　of　rectitude　there　must　be　no　temporizing。　　Therein　he　could

be　as　tyrannical　as　the　old　lady　herself。



'De'il　a　bite　or　a　sup　s'　gang　ower　your　thrapple　till　I　see　that

shillin'。'



There　was　no　help　for　it。　　Six　hungry　miles　must　be　trudged　by

Shargar　ere　he　got　a　morsel　to　eat。　　Two　hours　and　a　half　passed

before　he　reappeared。　　But　he　brought　the　shilling。　　As　to　how　he

recovered　it；　Robert　questioned　him　in　vain。　　Shargar；　in　his　turn；

was　obstinate。



'She's　a　some　camstairy　（unmanageable）　wife；　that　grannie　o'　yours；'

said　Mr。　Lammie；　when　Robert　returned　the　shilling　with　Mrs。

Falconer's　message；　'but　I　reckon　I　maun　pit　it　i'　my　pooch；　for　she

will　hae　her　ain　gait；　an'　I　dinna　want　to　strive　wi'　her。　　But　gin

ony　o'　ye　be　in　want　o'　a　shillin'　ony　day；　lads；　as　lang　's　I'm

abune　the　yirdthis　ane　'll　be　grown　twa；　or　maybe　mair；　'gen　that

time。'



So　saying；　the　farmer　put　the　shilling　into　his　pocket；　and　buttoned

it　up。



The　dragon　flew　splendidly　now；　and　its　strength　was　mighty。　　It　was

Robert's　custom　to　drive　a　stake　in　the　ground；　slanting　against　the

wind；　and　thereby　tether　the　animal；　as　if　it　were　up　there　grazing

in　its　own　natural　region。　　Then　he　would　lie　down　by　the　stake　and

read　The　Arabian　Nights；　every　now　and　then　casting　a　glance　upward

at　the　creature　alone　in　the　waste　air；　yet　all　in　his　power　by　the

string　at　his　side。　　Somehow　the　high…flown　dragon　was　a　bond

between　him　and　the　blue；　he　seemed　nearer　to　the　sky　while　it　flew；

or　at　least　the　heaven　seemed　less　far　away　and　inaccessible。　　While

he　lay　there　gazing；　all　at　once　he　would　find　that　his　soul　was　up

with　the　dragon；　feeling　as　it　felt；　tossing　about　with　it　in　the

torrents　of　the　air。　　Out　at　his　eyes　it　would　go；　traverse　the　dim

stairless　space；　and　sport　with　the　wind…blown　monster。　　Sometimes；

to　aid　his　aspiration；　he　would　take　a　bit　of　paper；　make　a　hole　in

it；　pass　the　end　of　the　string　through　the　hole；　and　send　the

messenger　scudding　along　the　line　athwart　the　depth　of　the　wind。　　If

it　stuck　by　the　way；　he　would　get　a　telescope　of　Mr。　Lammie's；　and

therewith　watch　its　struggles　till　it　broke　loose；　then　follow　it

careering　up　to　the　kite。　　Away　with　each　successive　paper　his

imagination　would　fly；　and　a　sense　of　air；　and　height；　and　freedom

settled　from　his　play　into　his　very　soul；　a　germ　to　sprout

hereafter；　and　enrich　the　forms　of　his　aspirations。　　And　all　his

after…memories　of　kite…flying　were　mingled　with　pictures　of　eastern

magnificence；　for　from　the　airy　height　of　the　dragon　his　eyes　always

came　down　upon　the　enchanted　pages　of　John　Hewson's　book。



Sometimes；　again；　he　would　throw　down　his　book；　and　sitting　up　with

his　back　against　the　stake；　lift　his　bonny　leddy　from　his　side；　and

play　as　he　had　never　played　in　Rothieden；　playing　to　the　dragon

aloft；　to　keep　him　strong　in　his　soaring；　and　fierce　in　his　battling

with　the　winds　of　heaven。　　Then　he　fancied　that　the　monster　swooped

and　swept　in　arcs；　and　swayed　curving　to　and　fro；　in　rhythmic

response　to　the　music　floating　up　through　the　wind。



What　a　full　globated　symbolism　lay　then　around　the　heart　of　the　boy

in　his　book；　his　violin；　his　kite！









CHAPTER　XXII。



DR。　　ANDERSON。



One　afternoon；　as　they　were　sitting　at　their　tea；　a　footstep　in　the

garden　approached　the　house；　and　then　a　figure　passed　the　window。

Mr。　Lammie　started　to　his　feet。



'Bless　my　sowl；　Aggy！　that's　Anderson！'　he　cried；　and　hurried　to　the

door。



His　daughter　followed。　　The　boys　kept　their　seats。　　A　loud　and

hearty　salutation　reached　their　ears；　but　the　voice　of　the　farmer

was　all　they　heard。　　Presently　he　returned；　bringing　with　him　the

tallest　and　slenderest　man　Robert　had　ever　seen。　　He　was

considerably　over　six　feet；　with　a　small　head；　and　delicate