robert falconer- 第21部分

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