robert falconer-第39部分

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instinct　of　modesty　drove　him　to　hide　his　passion　from　the　eyes　of

men。



》From　her　window　Miss　St。　John　saw　him　tearing　like　one　demented

along　the　top　walk　of　the　captain's　garden；　and　watched　for　his

return。　　He　came　far　sooner　than　she　expected。



Before　he　arrived　at　the　factory；　Robert　began　to　hear　strange

sounds　in　the　desolate　place。　　When　he　reached　the　upper　floor；　he

found　men　with　axe　and　hammer　destroying　the　old　woodwork；　breaking

the　old　jennies；　pitching　the　balls　of　lead　into　baskets；　and

throwing　the　spools　into　crates。　　Was　there　nothing　but　destruction

in　the　world？　　There；　most　horrible！　his　'bonny　leddy'　dying　of

flames；　and　here；　the　temple　of　his　refuge　torn　to　pieces　by

unhallowed　hands！　　What　could　it　mean？　　Was　his　grandmother's

vengeance　here　too？　　But　he　did　not　care。　　He　only　felt　like　the

dove　sent　from　the　ark；　that　there　was　no　rest　for　the　sole　of　his

foot；　that　there　was　no　place　to　hide　his　head　in　his　agonythat　he

was　naked　to　the　universe；　and　like　a　heartless　wild　thing　hunted

till　its　brain　is　of　no　more　use；　he　turned　and　rushed　back　again

upon　his　track。　　At　one　end　was　the　burning　idol；　at　the　other　the

desecrated　temple。



No　sooner　had　he　entered　the　captain's　garden　than　Miss　St。　John　met

him。



'What　is　the　matter　with　you；　Robert？'　she　asked；　kindly。



'Oh；　mem！'　gasped　Robert；　and　burst　into　a　very　storm　of　weeping。



It　was　long　before　he　could　speak。　　He　cowered　before　Miss　St。　John

as　if　conscious　of　an　unfriendly　presence；　and　seeking　to　shelter

himself　by　her　tall　figure　from　his　grandmother's　eyes。　　For　who

could　tell　but　at　the　moment　she　might　be　gazing　upon　him　from　some

window；　or　even　from　the　blue　vault　above？　　There　was　no　escaping

her。　　She　was　the　all…seeing　eye　personifiedthe　eye　of　the　God　of

the　theologians　of　his　country；　always　searching　out　the　evil；　and

refusing　to　acknowledge　the　good。　　Yet　so　gentle　and　faithful　was

the　heart　of　Robert；　that　he　never　thought　of　her　as　cruel。　　He　took

it　for　granted　that　somehow　or　other　she　must　be　right。　　Only　what　a

terrible　thing　such　righteousness　was！　　He　stood　and　wept　before　the

lady。



Her　heart　was　sore　for　the　despairing　boy。　　She　drew　him　to　a　little

summer…seat。　　He　entered　with　her；　and　sat　down；　weeping　still。　　She

did　her　best　to　soothe　him。　　At　last；　sorely　interrupted　by　sobs；　he

managed　to　let　her　know　the　fate　of　his　'bonnie　leddy。'　　But　when　he

came　to　the　words；　'She's　burnin'　in　there　upo'　granny's　fire；'　he

broke　out　once　more　with　that　wild　howl　of　despair；　and　then；

ashamed　of　himself；　ceased　weeping　altogether；　though　he　could　not

help　the　intrusion　of　certain　chokes　and　sobs　upon　his　otherwise

even；　though　low　and　sad　speech。



Knowing　nothing　of　Mrs。　Falconer's　character；　Miss　St。　John　set　her

down　as　a　cruel　and　heartless　as　well　as　tyrannical　and　bigoted　old

woman；　and　took　the　mental　position　of　enmity　towards　her。　　In　a

gush　of　motherly　indignation　she　kissed　Robert　on　the　forehead。



》From　that　chrism　he　arose　a　king。



He　dried　his　eyes；　not　another　sob　even　broke　from　him；　he　gave　one

look；　but　no　word　of　gratitude；　to　Miss　St。　John；　bade　her　good…bye；

and　walked　composedly　into　his　grandmother's　parlour；　where　the　neck

of　the　violin　yet　lay　upon　the　fire　only　half　consumed。　　The　rest

had　vanished　utterly。



'What　are　they　duin'　doon　at　the　fact'ry；　grannie？'　he　asked。



'What's　wha　duin'；　laddie？'　returned　his　grandmother；　curtly。



'They're　takin'　't　doon。'



'Takin'　what　doon？'　she　returned；　with　raised　voice。



'Takin'　doon　the　hoose。'



The　old　woman　rose。



'Robert；　ye　may　hae　spite　in　yer　hert　for　what　I　hae　dune　this

mornin'；　but　I　cud　do　no　ither。　　An'　it's　an　ill　thing　to　tak　sic

amen's　o'　me；　as　gin　I　had　dune　wrang；　by　garrin'　me　troo　'at　yer

grandfather's　property　was　to　gang　the　gait　o'　's　auld；　useless；

ill…mainnert　scraich　o'　a　fiddle。'



'She　was　the　bonniest　fiddle　i'　the　country…side；　grannie。　　And　she

never　gae　a　scraich　in　her　life　'cep'　whan　she　was　han'let　in　a

mainner　unbecomin'。　　But　we　s'　say　nae　mair　aboot　her；　for　she's

gane；　an'　no　by　a　fair　strae…deith　（death　on　one's　own　straw）

either。　　She　had　nae　blude　to　cry　for　vengeance；　but　the　snappin'　o'

her　strings　an'　the　crackin'　o'　her　banes　may　hae　made　a　cry　to　gang

far　eneuch　notwithstandin'。'



The　old　woman　seemed　for　one　moment　rebuked　under　her　grandson's

eloquence。　　He　had　made　a　great　stride　towards　manhood　since　the

morning。



'The　fiddle's　my　ain；'　she　said；　in　a　defensive　tone。　'And　sae　is

the　fact'ry；'　she　added；　as　if　she　had　not　quite　reassured　herself

concerning　it。



'The　fiddle's　yours　nae　mair；　grannie。　　And　for　the　fact'ryye

winna　believe　me：　gang　and　see　yersel'。'



Therewith　Robert　retreated　to　his　garret。



When　he　opened　the　door　of　it；　the　first　thing　he　saw　was　the　string

of　his　kite；　which；　strange　to　tell；　so　steady　had　been　the　wind；

was　still　up　in　the　airstill　tugging　at　the　bedpost。　　Whether　it

was　from　the　stinging　thought　that　the　true　sky…soarer；　the　violin；

having　been　devoured　by　the　jaws　of　the　fire…devil；　there　was　no

longer　any　significance　in　the　outward　and　visible　sign　of　the

dragon；　or　from　a　dim　feeling　that　the　time　of　kites　was　gone　by　and

manhood　on　the　threshold；　I　cannot　tell；　but　he　drew　his　knife　from

his　pocket；　and　with　one　down…stroke　cut　the　string　in　twain。　　Away

went　the　dragon；　free；　like　a　prodigal；　to　his　ruin。　　And　with　the

dragon；　afar　into　the　past；　flew　the　childhood　of　Robert　Falconer。

He　made　one　remorseful　dart　after　the　string　as　it　swept　out　of　the

skylight；　but　it　was　gone　beyond　remeid。　　And　never　more；　save　in

twilight　dreams；　did　he　lay　hold　on　his　childhood　again。　　But　he

knew　better　and　better；　as　the　years　rolled　on；　that　he　approached　a

deeper　and　holier　childhood；　of　which　that　had　been　but　the　feeble

and　necessarily　vanishing　type。



As　the　kite　sank　in　the　distance；　Mrs。　Falconer　issued　from　the

house；　and　went　down　the　street　towards　the　factory。



Before　she　came　back　the　cloth　was　laid　for　dinner；　and　Robert　and

Shargar　were　both　in　the　parlour　awaiting　her　return。　　She　entered

heated　and　dismayed；　went　into　Robert's　bedroom；　and　shut　the　door

hastily。　　They　heard　her　open　the　old　bureau。　　In　a　moment　after　she

came　out　with　a　more　luminous　expression　upon　her　face　than　Robert

had　ever　seen　it　bear。　　It　was　as　still　as　ever；　but　there　was　a

strange　light　in　her　eyes；　which　was　not　confined　to　her　eyes；　but

shone　in　a　measure　from　her　colourless　forehead　and　cheeks　as　well。

It　was　long　before　Robert　was　able　to　interpret　that　change　in　her

look；　and　that　increase　of　kindness　towards　himself　and　Shargar；

apparently　such　a　contrast　with　the　holocaust　of　the　morning。　　Had

they　both　been　Benjamins　they　could　not　have　had　more　abundant

platefuls　than　she　gave　them　that　day。　　And　when　they　left　her　to

return　to　school；　instead　of　the　usual　'Noo　be　douce；'　she　said；　in

gentle；　almost　loving　tones；　'Noo；　be　good　lads；　baith　o'　ye。'



The　conclusion　at　which　Falconer　did　arrive　was　that　his　grandmother

had　hurried　home　to　see　whether　the　title…deeds　of　the　factory　were

still　in　her　possession；　and　had　found　that　they　were　gonetaken；

doubtless；　by　her　son　Andrew。　　At　whatever　period　he　had

appropriated　them；　he　must　have　parted　with　them　but　recently。　　And

the　hope　rose　luminous　that　her　son　had　not　yet　passed　into　the

region　'where　all　life　dies；　death　lives。'　　Terrible　consolation！

Terrible　creed；　which　made　the　hope　that　he　was　still　on　this　side

of　the　grave　working　wickedness；　light　up　the　face　of　the　mother；

and　open　her　hand　in　kindness。　　Is　it　suffering；　or　is　it

wickedness；　that　is　the　awful　thing？　'Ah！　but　they　are　both　combined

in　the　other　world。'　　And　in　this　world　too；　I　answer；　only；

according　to　Mrs。　Falconer's　creed；　in　the　other　world　God；　for　the

sake　of　the　suffering；　renders　the　wickedness　eternal！



The　old　factory　was　in　part　pulled　down；　and　out　of　its　remains　a

granary　constructed。　　Nor　did　the　old　lady　interpose　a　word　to

arrest　the　alienation　of　her　property。









CHAPTER　XXIV。



BOOT　FOR　BALE。



Mary　St。　John　was　the　orphan　daughter　of　an　English　clergyman；　who

had　left　her　money　enough　to　make　her　at　least　independent。　　Mrs。

Forsyth；　hearing　that　her　niece　was　left　alone　in　the　world；　had

concluded　that　her　society　would　be　a　pleasure　to　herself　and　a

relief　to　the　housekeeping。　　Even　before　her　father's　death；　Miss

St。　John；　having　met　with　a　disappointment；　and　concluded　herself

dead　to　the　world；　had　been　looking　about　for　some　way　of　doing

good。　　The　prospect　of　retirement；　therefore；　and　of　being　useful　to

her　sick　aunt；　had　drawn　her　northwards。



She　was　now　about　six…and…twenty；　filled　with　two　passionsone　for

justice；　the　other　for　music。　　Her　griefs　had　not　made　her　selfish；

nor　had　her　music　degenerated　into　sentiment。　　The　gentle　style　of

the　instruction　she　had　received　had　never　begotten　a　diseased

self…consciousness；　and　if　her　religion　lacked　something　of　the

intensity　without　which　a　character　like　hers　could　not　be　evenly

balanced；　its　force　was　not　spent　on　the　combating　of　unholy　doubts

and　selfish　fears；　but　rose　on　the　wings　of　her　music　in　gentle

thanksgiving。　　Tears　had　changed　her　bright…hued　hopes　into　a

dove…coloured　submission；　through　which　her　mind　was　passing　towards

a　rainbow　dawn　such　as　she　had　never　dreamed　of。　　To　her　as　yet　the

Book　of　Common　Prayer　contained　all　the　prayers　that　human　heart　had

need　to　offer；　what　things　lay　beyond　its　scope　must　lie　beyond　the

scope　of　religion。　　All　such　things　must　be　parted　with　one　day；　and

if　they　had　been　taken　from　her　very　soon；　she　was　the　sooner　free

from　the　painful　necessity　of　watching　lest　earthly　love　should

remove　any　of　the　old　landmarks　dividing　what　was　God's　from　what

was　only　man's。　　She　h