robert falconer-第50部分

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the　doctor's　part　a　very　meagre　performancethey　retired　to　his

room　again；　and　then　Robert　found　the　table　covered　with　a　snowy

cloth；　and　wine　and　fruits　arranged　upon　it。



It　was　far　into　the　night　before　he　rose　to　go　home。　　As　he　passed

through　a　thick　rain　of　pin…point　drops；　he　felt　that　although　those

cold　granite　houses；　with　glimmering　dead　face；　stood　like　rows　of

sepulchres；　he　was　in　reality　walking　through　an　avenue　of　homes。

Wet　to　the　skin　long　before　he　reached　Mrs。　Fyvie's　in　the　auld

toon；　he　was　notwithstanding　as　warm　as　the　under　side　of　a　bird's

wing。　　For　he　had　to　sit　down　and　write　to　his　grandmother　informing

her　that　Dr。　Anderson　had　employed　him　to　copy　for　the　printers　a

book　of　his　upon　the　Medical　Boards　of　India；　and　that　as　he　was

going　to　pay　him　for　that　and　other　work　at　a　rate　which　would

secure　him　ten　shillings　a　week；　it　would　be　a　pity　to　lose　a　year

for　the　chance　of　getting　a　bursary　next　winter。



The　doctor　did　want　the　manuscript　copied；　and　he　knew　that　the　only

chance　of　getting　Mrs。　Falconer's　consent　to　Robert's　receiving　any

assistance　from　him；　was　to　make　some　business　arrangement　of　the

sort。　　He　wrote　to　her　the　same　night；　and　after　mentioning　the

unexpected　pleasure　of　Robert's　visit；　not　only　explained　the

advantage　to　himself　of　the　arrangement　he　had　proposed；　but　set

forth　the　greater　advantage　to　Robert；　inasmuch　as　he　would　thus　be

able　in　some　measure　to　keep　a　hold　of　him。　　He　judged　that　although

Mrs。　Falconer　had　no　great　opinion　of　his　religion；　she　would　yet

consider　his　influence　rather　on　the　side　of　good　than　otherwise　in

the　case　of　a　boy　else　abandoned　to　his　own　resources。



The　end　of　it　all　was　that　his　grandmother　yielded；　and　Robert　was

straightway　a　Bejan；　or　Yellow…beak。



Three　days　had　he　been　clothed　in　the　red　gown　of　the　Aberdeen

student；　and　had　attended　the　Humanity　and　Greek　class…rooms。　　On

the　evening　of　the　third　day　he　was　seated　at　his　table　preparing

his　Virgil　for　the　next；　when　he　found　himself　growing　very　weary；

and　no　wonder；　for；　except　the　walk　of　a　few　hundred　yards　to　and

from　the　college；　he　had　had　no　open　air　for　those　three　days。　　It

was　raining　in　a　persistent　November　fashion；　and　he　thought　of　the

sea；　away　through　the　dark　and　the　rain；　tossing　uneasily。　　Should

he　pay　it　a　visit？　　He　sat　for　a　moment；



　　　　　This　way　and　that　dividing　the　swift　mind；4



when　his　eye　fell　on　his　violin。　　He　had　been　so　full　of　his　new

position　and　its　requirements；　that　he　had　not　touched　it　since　the

session　opened。　　Now　it　was　just　what　he　wanted。　　He　caught　it　up

eagerly；　and　began　to　play。　　The　power　of　the　music　seized　upon　him；

and　he　went　on　playing；　forgetful　of　everything　else；　till　a　string

broke。　　It　was　all　too　short　for　further　use。　　Regardless　of　the

rain　or　the　depth　of　darkness　to　be　traversed　before　he　could　find　a

music…shop；　he　caught　up　his　cap；　and　went　to　rush　from　the　house。



His　door　opened　immediately　on　the　top　step　of　the　stair；　without

any　landing。　　There　was　a　door　opposite；　to　which　likewise　a　few

steps　led　immediately　up。　　The　stairs　from　the　two　doors　united　a

little　below。　　So　near　were　the　doors　that　one　might　stride　across

the　fork。　　The　opposite　door　was　open；　and　in　it　stood　Eric　Ericson。









CHAPTER　VII。



ERIC　ERICSON。



Robert　sprang　across　the　dividing　chasm；　clasped　Ericson's　hand　in

both　of　his；　looked　up　into　his　face；　and　stood　speechless。　　Ericson

returned　the　salute　with　a　still　kindnesstender　and　still。　　His

face　was　like　a　gray　morning　sky　of　summer　from　whose　level

cloud…fields　rain　will　fall　before　noon。



'So　it　was　you；'　he　said；　'playing　the　violin　so　well？'



'I　was　doin'　my　best；'　answered　Robert。　'But　eh！　　Mr。　Ericson；　I　wad

hae　dune　better　gin　I　had　kent　ye　was　hearkenin'。'



'You　couldn't　do　better　than　your　best；'　returned　Eric；　smiling。



'Ay；　but　yer　best　micht　aye　grow　better；　ye　ken；'　persisted　Robert。



'Come　into　my　room；'　said　Ericson。　'This　is　Friday　night；　and　there

is　nothing　but　chapel　to…morrow。　　So　we'll　have　talk　instead　of

work。'



In　another　moment　they　were　seated　by　a　tiny　coal　fire　in　a　room　one

side　of　which　was　the　slope　of　the　roof；　with　a　large；　low　skylight

in　it　looking　seawards。　　The　sound　of　the　distant　waves；　unheard　in

Robert's　room；　beat　upon　the　drum　of　the　skylight；　through　all　the

world　of　mist　that　lay　between　it　and　themdimly；　vaguelybut　ever

and　again　with　a　swell　of　gathered　force；　that　made　the　distant

tumult　doubtful　no　more。



'I　am　sorry　I　have　nothing　to　offer　you；'　said　Ericson。



'You　remind　me　of　Peter　and　John　at　the　Beautiful　Gate　of　the

temple；'　returned　Robert；　attempting　to　speak　English　like　the

Northerner；　but　breaking　down　as　his　heart　got　the　better　of　him。

'Eh！　　Mr。　Ericson；　gin　ye　kent　what　it　is　to　me　to　see　the　face　o'

ye；　ye　wadna　speyk　like　that。　　Jist　lat　me　sit　an'　leuk　at　ye。　　I

want　nae　mair。'



A　smile　broke　up　the　cold；　sad；　gray　light　of　the　young　eagle…face。

Stern　at　once　and　gentle　when　in　repose；　its　smile　was　as　the

summer　of　some　lovely　land　where　neither　the　heat　nor　the　sun　shall

smite　them。　　The　youth　laid　his　hand　upon　the　boy's　head；　then

withdrew　it　hastily；　and　the　smile　vanished　like　the　sun　behind　a

cloud。　　Robert　saw　it；　and　as　if　he　had　been　David　before　Saul；　rose

instinctively　and　said；



'I'll　gang　for　my　fiddle。Hoots！　　I　hae　broken　ane　o'　the　strings。

We　maun　bide　till　the　morn。　　But　I　want　nae　fiddle　mysel'　whan　I

hear　the　great　water　oot　there。'



'You're　young　yet；　my　boy；　or　you　might　hear　voices　in　that　water！

I've　lived　in　the　sound　of　it　all　my　days。　　When　I　can't　rest　at

night；　I　hear　a　moaning　and　crying　in　the　dark；　and　I　lie　and　listen

till　I　can't　tell　whether　I'm　a　man　or　some　God…forsaken　sea　in　the

sunless　north。'



'Sometimes　I　believe　in　naething　but　my　fiddle；'　answered　Robert。



'Yes；　yes。　　But　when　it　comes　into　you；　my　boy！　　You　won't　hear　much

music　in　the　cry　of　the　sea　after　that。　　As　long　as　you've　got　it　at

arm's　length；　it's　all　very　well。　　It's　interesting　then；　and　you

can　talk　to　your　fiddle　about　it；　and　make　poetry　about　it；'　said

Ericson；　with　a　smile　of　self…contempt。　'But　as　soon　as　the　real

earnest　comes　that　is　all　over。　　The　sea…moan　is　the　cry　of　a

tortured　world　then。　　Its　hollow　bed　is　the　cup　of　the　world's　pain；

ever　rolling　from　side　to　side　and　dashing　over　its　lip。　　Of　all

that　might　be；　ought　to　be；　nothing　to　be　had！I　could　get　music

out　of　it　once。　　Look　here。　　I　could　trifle　like　that　once。'



He　half　rose；　then　dropped　on　his　chair。　　But　Robert's　believing

eyes　justified　confidence；　and　Ericson　had　never　had　any　one　to　talk

to。　　He　rose　again；　opened　a　cupboard　at　his　side；　took　out　some

papers；　threw　them　on　the　table；　and；　taking　his　hat；　walked　towards

the　door。



'Which　of　your　strings　is　broken？'　he　asked。



'The　third；'　answered　Robert。



'I　will　get　you　one；'　said　Ericson；　and　before　Robert　could　reply　he

was　down　the　stair。　　Robert　heard　him　cough；　then　the　door　shut；　and

he　was　gone　in　the　rain　and　fog。



Bewildered；　unhappy；　ready　to　fly　after　him；　yet　irresolute；　Robert

almost　mechanically　turned　over　the　papers　upon　the　little　deal

table。　　He　was　soon　arrested　by　the　following　verses；　headed



A　NOONDAY　MELODY。



Everything　goes　to　its　rest；

　　The　hills　are　asleep　in　the　noon；

And　life　is　as　still　in　its　nest

　　As　the　moon　when　she　looks　on　a　moon

In　the　depths　of　a　calm　river's　breast

　　As　it　steals　through　a　midnight　in　June。



The　streams　have　forgotten　the　sea

　　In　the　dream　of　their　musical　sound；

The　sunlight　is　thick　on　the　tree；

　　And　the　shadows　lie　warm　on　the　ground

So　still；　you　may　watch　them　and　see

　　Every　breath　that　awakens　around。



The　churchyard　lies　still　in　the　heat；

　　With　its　handful　of　mouldering　bone；

As　still　as　the　long　stalk　of　wheat

　　In　the　shadow　that　sits　by　the　stone；

As　still　as　the　grass　at　my　feet

　　When　I　walk　in　the　meadows　alone。



The　waves　are　asleep　on　the　main；

　　And　the　ships　are　asleep　on　the　wave；

And　the　thoughts　are　as　still　in　my　brain

　　As　the　echo　that　sleeps　in　the　cave；

All　rest　from　their　labour　and　pain

　　Then　why　should　not　I　in　my　grave？



His　heart　ready　to　burst　with　a　sorrow；　admiration；　and　devotion；

which　no　criticism　interfered　to　qualify；　Robert　rushed　out　into　the

darkness；　and　sped；　fleet…footed；　along　the　only　path　which　Ericson

could　have　taken。　　He　could　not　bear　to　be　left　in　the　house　while

his　friend　was　out　in　the　rain。



He　was　sure　of　joining　him　before　he　reached　the　new　town；　for　he

was　fleet…footed；　and　there　was　a　path　only　on　one　side　of　the　way；

so　that　there　was　no　danger　of　passing　him　in　the　dark。　　As　he　ran

he　heard　the　moaning　of　the　sea。　　There　must　be　a　storm　somewhere；

away　in　the　deep　spaces　of　its　dark　bosom；　and　its　lips　muttered　of

its　far　unrest。　　When　the　sun　rose　it　would　be　seen　misty　and　gray；

tossing　about　under　the　one　rain　cloud　that　like　a　thinner　ocean

overspread　the　heavenstossing　like　an　animal　that　would　fain　lie

down　and　be　at　peace　but　could　not　compose　its　unwieldy　strength。



Suddenly　Robert　slackened　his　speed；　ceased　running；　stood；　gazed

through　the　darkness　at　a　figure　a　few　yards　before　him。



An　old　wall；　bowed　out　with　age　and　the　weight　behind　it；　flanked

the　road　in　this　part。　　Doors　in　this　wall；　with　a　few　steps　in

front　of　them　and　more　behind；　led　up　into　gardens　upon　a　slope；　at

the　top　of　which　stood　the　houses　to　which　they　belonged。　　Against

one　of　these　doors　the　figure　stood　with　its　head　bowed　upon　its

hands。　　When　Robert　was　within　a　few　feet；　it　descended　and　went　on。



'Mr。　Ericson！'　exclaimed　Robert。　'Ye'll　get　yer　deith　gin　ye　stan'

that　gait　i'　the　weet。'



'Amen；'　said　Ericson；　turning　with　a　smile　that　glimmered　wan

thr