robert falconer- 第77部分

city。　　Down　there　was　the　beast　of　prey　and　his　victim；　but　for　the

moment　he　was　above　the　region　of　sorrow。　　His　weariness　and　his

headache　had　vanished　utterly。　　With　his　mind　tossed　on　its　own

speechless　delight；　he　was　slowly　descending　still；　when　he　saw　on

his　left　hand　a　door　ajar。　　He　would　look　what　mystery　lay　within。

A　push　opened　it。　　He　discovered　only　a　little　chamber　lined　with

wood。　　In　the　centre　stood　somethinga　bench…like　piece　of

furniture；　plain　and　worn。　　He　advanced　a　step；　peered　over　the　top

of　it；　saw　keys；　white　and　black；　saw　pedals　below：　it　was　an　organ！

Two　strides　brought　him　in　front　of　it。　　A　wooden　stool；　polished

and　hollowed　with　centuries　of　use；　was　before　it。　　But　where　was

the　bellows？　　That　might　be　down　hundreds　of　steps　below；　for　he　was

half…way　only　to　the　ground。　　He　seated　himself　musingly；　and

struck；　as　he　thought；　a　dumb　chord。　　Responded；　up　in　the　air；　far

overhead；　a　mighty　booming　clang。　　Startled；　almost　frightened；　even

as　if　Mary　St。　John　had　said　she　loved　him；　Robert　sprung　from　the

stool；　and；　without　knowing　why；　moved　only　by　the　chastity　of

delight；　flung　the　door　to　the　post。　　It　banged　and　clicked。　　Almost

mad　with　the　joy　of　the　titanic　instrument；　he　seated　himself　again

at　the　keys；　and　plunged　into　a　tempest　of　clanging　harmony。　　One

hundred　bells　hang　in　that　tower　of　wonder；　an　instrument　for　a

city；　nay；　for　a　kingdom。　　Often　had　Robert　dreamed　that　he　was　the

galvanic　centre　of　a　thunder…cloud　of　harmony；　flashing　off　from

every　finger　the　willed　lightning　tone：　such　was　the　unexpected

scale　of　this　instrumentso　far　aloft　in　the　sunny　air　rang　the

responsive　notes；　that　his　dream　appeared　almost　realized。　　The

music；　like　a　fountain　bursting　upwards；　drew　him　up　and　bore　him

aloft。　　From　the　resounding　cone　of　bells　overhead　he　no　longer

heard　their　tones　proceed；　but　saw　level…winged　forms　of　light

speeding　off　with　a　message　to　the　nations。　　It　was　only　his　roused

phantasy；　but　a　sweet　tone　is　nevertheless　a　messenger　of　God；　and　a

right　harmony　and　sequence　of　such　tones　is　a　little　gospel。



At　length　he　found　himself　following；　till　that　moment

unconsciously；　the　chain　of　tunes　he　well　remembered　having　played

on　his　violin　the　night　he　went　first　with　Ericson　to　see　Mysie；

ending　with　his　strange　chant　about　the　witch　lady　and　the　dead

man's　hand。



Ere　he　had　finished　the　last；　his　passion　had　begun　to　fold　its

wings；　and　he　grew　dimly　aware　of　a　beating　at　the　door　of　the

solitary　chamber　in　which　he　sat。　　He　knew　nothing　of　the　enormity

of　which　he　was　guiltypresenting　unsought　the　city　of　Antwerp　with

a　glorious　phantasia。　　He　did　not　know　that　only　upon　grand；　solemn；

world…wide　occasions；　such　as　a　king's　birthday　or　a　ball　at　the

H？tel　de　Ville；　was　such　music　on　the　card。　　When　he　flung　the　door

to；　it　had　closed　with　a　spring　lock；　and　for　the　last　quarter　of　an

hour　three　gens…d'arme；　commanded　by　the　sacristan　of　the　tower；　had

been　thundering　thereat。　　He　waited　only　to　finish　the　last　notes　of

the　wild　Orcadian　chant；　and　opened　the　door。　　He　was　seized　by　the

collar；　dragged　down　the　stair　into　the　street；　and　through　a　crowd

of　wondering　facespoor　unconscious　dreamer！　it　will　not　do　to

think　on　the　house…top　even；　and　you　had　been　dreaming　very　loud

indeed　in　the　church　spireaway　to　the　bureau　of　the　police。









CHAPTER　XXIV。



DEATH。



I　need　not　recount　the　proceedings　of　the　Belgian　police；　how　they

interrogated　Robert　concerning　a　letter　from　Mary　St。　John　which

they　found　in　an　inner　pocket；　how　they　looked　doubtful　over　a　copy

of　Horace　that　lay　in　his　coat；　and　put　evidently　a　momentous

question　about　some　algebraical　calculations　on　the　fly…leaf　of　it。

Fortunately　or　unfortunatelyI　do　not　know　whichRobert　did　not

understand　a　word　they　said　to　him。　　He　was　locked　up；　and　left　to

fret　for　nearly　a　week；　though　what　he　could　have　done　had　he　been

at　liberty；　he　knew　as　little　as　I　know。　　At　last；　long　after　it　was

useless　to　make　any　inquiry　about　Miss　Lindsay；　he　was　set　at

liberty。　　He　could　just　pay　for　a　steerage　passage　to　London；　whence

he　wrote　to　Dr。　Anderson　for　a　supply；　and　was　in　Aberdeen　a　few

days　after。



This　was　Robert's　first　cosmopolitan　experience。　　He　confided　the

whole　affair　to　the　doctor；　who　approved　of　all；　saying　it　could

have　been　of　no　use；　but　he　had　done　right。　　He　advised　him　to　go

home　at　once；　for　he　had　had　letters　inquiring　after　him。　　Ericson

was　growing　steadily　worsein　fact；　he　feared　Robert　might　not　see

him　alive。



If　this　news　struck　Robert　to　the　heart；　his　pain　was　yet　not

without　some　poor　alleviation：he　need　not　tell　Ericson　about

Mysie；　but　might　leave　him　to　find　out　the　truth　when；　free　of　a

dying　body；　he　would　be　better　able　to　bear　it。　　That　very　night　he

set　off　on　foot　for　Rothieden。　　There　was　no　coach　from　Aberdeen

till　eight　the　following　morning；　and　before　that　he　would　be　there。



It　was　a　dreary　journey　without　Ericson。　　Every　turn　of　the　road

reminded　him　of　him。　　And　Ericson　too　was　going　a　lonely　unknown

way。



Did　ever　two　go　together　upon　that　way？　　Might　not　two　die　together

and　not　lose　hold　of　each　other　all　the　time；　even　when　the　sense　of

the　clasping　hands　was　gone；　and　the　soul　had　withdrawn　itself　from

the　touch？　　Happy　they　who　prefer　the　will　of　God　to　their　own　even

in　this；　and　would；　as　the　best　friend；　have　him　near　who　can　be

nearhim　who　made　the　fourth　in　the　fiery　furnace！　　Fable　or　fact；

reader；　I　do　not　care。　　The　One　I　mean　is；　and　in　him　I　hope。



Very　weary　was　Robert　when　he　walked　into　his　grandmother's　house。



Betty　came　out　of　the　kitchen　at　the　sound　of　his　entrance。



'Is　Mr。　Ericson？'



'Na；　he's　nae　deid；'　she　answered。　'He'll　maybe　live　a　day　or　twa；

they　say。'



'Thank　God！'　said　Robert；　and　went　to　his　grandmother。



'Eh；　laddie！'　said　Mrs。　Falconer；　the　first　greetings　over；　'ane　's

ta'en　an'　anither　's　left！　but　what　for　's　mair　nor　I　can　faddom。

There's　that　fine　young　man；　Maister　Ericson；　at　deith's　door；　an'

here　am　I；　an　auld　runklet　wife；　left　to　cry　upo'　deith；　an'　he

winna　hear　me。'



'Cry　upo'　God；　grannie；　an'　no　upo'　deith；'　said　Robert；　catching　at

the　word　as　his　grandmother　herself　might　have　done。　　He　had　no　such

unfair　habit　when　I　knew　him；　and　always　spoke　to　one's　meaning；　not

one's　words。　　But　then　he　had　a　wonderful　gift　of　knowing　what　one's

meaning　was。



He　did　not　sit　down；　but；　tired　as　he　was；　went　straight　to　The

Boar's　Head。　He　met　no　one　in　the　archway；　and　walked　up　to

Ericson's　room。　　When　he　opened　the　door；　he　found　the　large　screen

on　the　other　side；　and　hearing　a　painful　cough；　lingered　behind　it；

for　he　could　not　control　his　feelings　sufficiently。　　Then　he　heard　a

voiceEricson's　voice；　but　oh；　how　changed！He　had　no　idea　that　he

ought　not　to　listen。



'Mary；'　the　voice　said；　'do　not　look　like　that。　　I　am　not　suffering。

It　is　only　my　body。　　Your　arm　round　me　makes　me　so　strong！　　Let　me

lay　my　head　on　your　shoulder。'



A　brief　pause　followed。



'But；　Eric；'　said　Mary's　voice；　'there　is　one　that　loves　you　better

than　I　do。'



'If　there　is；'　returned　Ericson；　feebly；　'he　has　sent　his　angel　to

deliver　me。'



'But　you　do　believe　in　him；　Eric？'



The　voice　expressed　anxiety　no　less　than　love。



'I　am　going　to　see。　　There　is　no　other　way。　　When　I　find　him；　I

shall　believe　in　him。　　I　shall　love　him　with　all　my　heart；　I　know。

I　love　the　thought　of　him　now。'



'But　that's　not　himself；　mydarling！'　she　said。



'No。　But　I　cannot　love　himself　till　I　find　him。　　Perhaps　there　is　no

Jesus。'



'Oh；　don't　say　that。　　I　can't　bear　to　hear　you　talk　so；'



'But；　dear　heart；　if　you're　so　sure　of　him；　do　you　think　he　would

turn　me　away　because　I　don't　do　what　I　can't　do？　　I　would　if　I　could

with　all　my　heart。　　If　I　were　to　say　I　believed　in　him；　and　then

didn't　trust　him；　I　could　understand　it。　　But　when　it's　only　that

I'm　not　sure　about　what　I　never　saw；　or　had　enough　of　proof　to

satisfy　me　of；　how　can　he　be　vexed　at　that？　　You　seem　to　me　to　do

him　great　wrong；　Mary。　Would　you　now　banish　me　for　ever；　if　I

should；　when　my　brain　is　wrapped　in　the　clouds　of　death；　forget　you

along　with　everything　else　for　a　moment？'



'No；　no；　no。　　Don't　talk　like　that；　Eric；　dear。　　There　may　be

reasons；　you　know。'



'I　know　what　they　say　well　enough。　　But　I　expect　Him；　if　there　is　a

Him；　to　be　better　even　than　you；　my　beautifuland　I　don't　know　a

fault　in　you；　but　that　you　believe　in　a　God　you　can't　trust。　　If　I

believed　in　a　God；　wouldn't　I　trust　him　just？　　And　I　do　hope　in　him。

We'll　see；　my　darling。　　When　we　meet　again　I　think　you'll　say　I　was

right。'



Robert　stood　like　one　turned　into　marble。　　Deep　called　unto　deep　in

his　soul。　　The　waves　and　the　billows　went　over　him。



Mary　St。　John　answered　not　a　word。　　I　think　she　must　have　been

conscience…stricken。　　Surely　the　Son　of　Man　saw　nearly　as　much　faith

in　Ericson　as　in　her。　　Only　she　clung　to　the　word　as　a　bond　that　the

Lord　had　given　her：　she　would　rather　have　his　bond。



Ericson　had　another　fit　of　coughing。　　Robert　heard　the　rustling　of

ministration。　　But　in　a　moment　the　dying　man　again　took　up　the　word。

He　seemed　almost　as　anxious　about　Mary's　faith　as　she　was　about

his。



'There's　Robert；'　he　said：　'I　do　believe　that　boy　would　die　for　me；

and　I　never　did　anything　to　deserve　it。　　Now　Jesus　Christ　must　be　as

good　as　Robert　at　least。　　I　think　he　must　be　a　great　deal　better；　if

he's　Jesus　Christ　at　all。　　Now　Robert　might　be　hurt　if　I　didn't

believe　in　him。　　But　I've　never　seen　Jesus　Christ。　　It's　all　in　an

old　book；　over　which　the　people　that　say　they　believe　in　it　the

most；　fight　like　dogs　and　cats。　　I　beg　your　pardon；　my　Mary；　but

they　do；　though　the　words　are　ugly。'



'Ah！　but　if　you　had　tried　it　as　I've　tried　it；　you　would　know