robert falconer-第21节
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dusk; and their settled order; the machines looked multitudinous。
An eerie sense of discomfort came over him as he gazed; and he
lifted his violin to dispel the strange unpleasant feeling that grew
upon him。 But at the first long stroke across the strings; an awful
sound arose in the further room; a sound that made him all but drop
the bow; and cling to his violin。 It went on。 It was the old; all
but forgotten whirr of bobbins; mingled with the gentle groans of
the revolving horizontal wheel; but magnified in the silence of the
place; and the echoing imagination of the boy; into something
preternaturally awful。 Yielding for a moment to the growth of
goose…skin; and the insurrection of hair; he recovered himself by a
violent effort; and walked to the door that connected the two
compartments。 Was it more or less fearful that the jenny was not
going of itself? that the figure of an old woman sat solemnly
turning and turning the hand…wheel? Not without calling in the jury
of his senses; however; would he yield to the special plea of his
imagination; but went nearer; half expecting to find that the mutch;
with its big flapping borders; glimmering white in the gloom across
many a machine; surrounded the face of a skull。 But he was soon
satisfied that it was only a blind woman everybody knewso old that
she had become childish。 She had heard the reports of the factory
being haunted; and groping about with her half…withered brain full
of them; had found the garden and the back door open; and had
climbed to the first…floor by a farther stair; well known to her
when she used to work that very machine。 She had seated herself
instinctively; according to ancient wont; and had set it in motion
once more。
Yielding to an impulse of experiment; Robert began to play again。
Thereupon her disordered ideas broke out in words。 And Robert soon
began to feel that it could hardly be more ghastly to look upon a
ghost than to be taken for one。
'Ay; ay; sir;' said the old woman; in a tone of commiseration; 'it
maun be sair to bide。 I dinna wonner 'at ye canna lie still。 But
what gars ye gang daunerin' aboot this place? It's no yours ony
langer。 Ye ken whan fowk's deid; they tyne the grip (loose hold)。
Ye suld gang hame to yer wife。 She micht say a word to quaiet yer
auld banes; for she's a douce an' a wice womanthe mistress。'
Then followed a pause。 There was a horror about the old woman's
voice; already half dissolved by death; in the desolate place; that
almost took from Robert the power of motion。 But his violin sent
forth an accidental twang; and that set her going again。
'Ye was aye a douce honest gentleman yersel'; an' I dinna wonner ye
canna bide it。 But I wad hae thoucht glory micht hae hauden ye in。
But yer ain son! Eh ay! And a braw lad and a bonnie! It's a sod
thing he bude to gang the wrang gait; and it's no wonner; as I say;
that ye lea' the worms to come an' luik efter him。 I doobtI doobt
it winna be to you he'll gang at the lang last。 There winna be room
for him aside ye in Awbrahawm's boasom。 And syne to behave sae ill
to that winsome wife o' his! I dinna wonner 'at ye maun be up! Eh
na! But; sir; sin ye are up; I wish ye wad speyk to John Thamson no
to tak aff the day 'at I was awa' last ook; for 'deed I was verra
unweel; and bude to keep my bed。'
Robert was beginning to feel uneasy as to how he should get rid of
her; when she rose; and saying; 'Ay; ay; I ken it's sax o'clock;'
went out as she had come in。 Robert followed; and saw her safe out
of the garden; but did not return to the factory。
So his father had behaved ill to his mother too!
'But what for hearken to the havers o' a dottled auld wife?' he said
to himself; pondering as he walked home。
Old Janet told a strange story of how she had seen the ghost; and
had had a long talk with him; and of what he said; and of how he
groaned and played the fiddle between。 And finding that the report
had reached his grandmother's ears; Robert thought it prudent; much
to his discontent; to intermit his visits to the factory。 Mrs。
Falconer; of course; received the rumour with indignant scorn; and
peremptorily refused to allow any examination of the premises。
But how have the violin by him and not hear her speak? One evening
the longing after her voice grow upon him till he could resist it no
longer。 He shut the door of his garret…room; and; with Shargar by
him; took her out and began to play softly; gentlyoh so softly; so
gently! Shargar was enraptured。 Robert went on playing。
Suddenly the door opened; and his grannie stood awfully revealed
before them。 Betty had heard the violin; and had flown to the
parlour in the belief that; unable to get any one to heed him at the
factory; the ghost had taken Janet's advice; and come home。 But his
wife smiled a smile of contempt; went with Betty to the
kitchenover which Robert's room layheard the sounds; put off her
creaking shoes; stole up…stairs on her soft white lambswool
stockings; and caught the pair。 The violin was seized; put in its
case; and carried off; and Mrs。 Falconer rejoiced to think she had
broken a gin set by Satan for the unwary feet of her poor Robert。
Little she knew the wonder of that violinhow it had kept the soul
of her husband alive! Little she knew how dangerous it is to shut
an open door; with ever so narrow a peep into the eternal; in the
face of a son of Adam! And little she knew how determinedly and
restlessly a nature like Robert's would search for another; to open
one possibly which she might consider ten times more dangerous than
that which she had closed。
When Alexander heard of the affair; he was at first overwhelmed with
the misfortune; but gathering a little heart at last; he set to
'working;' as he said himself; 'like a verra deevil'; and as he was
the best shoemaker in the town; and for the time abstained utterly
from whisky; and all sorts of drink but well…water; he soon managed
to save the money necessary; and redeem the old fiddle。 But whether
it was from fancy; or habit; or what; even Robert's inexperienced
ear could not accommodate itself; save under protest; to the
instrument which once his teacher had considered all but perfect;
and it needed the master's finest touch to make its tone other than
painful to the sense of the neophyte。
No one can estimate too highly the value of such a resource to a man
like the shoemaker; or a boy like Robert。 Whatever it be that keeps
the finer faculties of the mind awake; wonder alive; and the
interest above mere eating and drinking; money…making and
money…saving; whatever it be that gives gladness; or sorrow; or
hopethis; be it violin; pencil; pen; or; highest of all; the love
of woman; is simply a divine gift of holy influence for the
salvation of that being to whom it comes; for the lifting of him out
of the mire and up on the rock。 For it keeps a way open for the
entrance of deeper; holier; grander influences; emanating from the
same riches of the Godhead。 And though many have genius that have
no grace; they will only be so much the worse; so much the nearer to
the brute; if you take from them that which corresponds to Dooble
Sanny's fiddle。
CHAPTER XII。
ROBERT'S PLAN OF SALVATION。
For some time after the loss of his friend; Robert went loitering
and mooning about; quite neglecting the lessons to which he had not;
it must be confessed; paid much attention for many weeks。 Even when
seated at his grannie's table; he could do no more than fix his eyes
on his book: to learn was impossible; it was even disgusting to him。
But his was a nature which; foiled in one direction; must;
absolutely helpless against its own vitality; straightway send out
its searching roots in another。 Of all forces; that of growth is
the one irresistible; for it is the creating power of God; the law
of life and of being。 Therefore no accumulation of refusals; and
checks; and turnings; and forbiddings; from all the good old
grannies in the world; could have prevented Robert from striking
root downward; and bearing fruit upward; though; as in all higher
natures; the fruit was a long way off yet。 But his soul was only
sad and hungry。 He was not unhappy; for he had been guilty of
nothing that weighed on his conscience。 He had been doing many
things of late; it is true; without asking leave of his grandmother;
but wherever prayer is felt to be of no avail; there cannot be the
sense of obligation save on compulsion。 Even direct disobedience in
such case will generally leave little soreness; except the thing
forbidden should be in its own nature wrong; and then; indeed; 'Don
Worm; the conscience;' may begin to bite。 But Robert felt nothing
immoral in playing upon his grandfather's violin; nor even in taking
liberties with a piece of lumber for which nobody cared but possibly
the dead; therefore he