robert falconer-第52部分
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But indeed the ruins of the ever falling temple of theology had
accumulated far more heavily over Robert's well of life; than over
that of Ericson: the obstructions to his faith were those that
rolled from the disintegrating mountains of humanity; rather than
the rubbish heaped upon it by the careless masons who take the
quarry whence they hew the stones for the templebuilt without
hands eternal in the heavens。
When Dr。 Anderson entered; Ericson opened his eyes wide。 The doctor
approached; and taking his hand began to feel his pulse。 Then first
Ericson comprehended his visit。
'I can't;' he said; withdrawing his hand。 'I am not so ill as to
need a doctor。'
'My dear sir;' said Dr。 Anderson; courteously; 'there will be no
occasion to put you to any pain。'
'Sir;' said Eric; 'I have no money。'
The doctor laughed。
'And I have more than I know how to make a good use of。'
'I would rather be left alone;' persisted Ericson; turning his face
away。
'Now; my dear sir;' said the doctor; with gentle decision; 'that is
very wrong。 With what face can you offer a kindness when your turn
comes; if you won't accept one yourself?'
Ericson held out his wrist。 Dr。 Anderson questioned; prescribed;
and; having given directions; went home; to call again in the
morning。
And now Robert was somewhat in the position of the old woman who
'had so many children she didn't know what to do。' Dr。 Anderson
ordered nourishment for Ericson; and here was Shargar upon his hands
as well! Shargar and he could share; to be sure; and exist: but for
Ericson?
Not a word did Robert exchange with Shargar till he had gone to the
druggist's and got the medicine for Ericson; who; after taking it;
fell into a troubled sleep。 Then; leaving the two doors open;
Robert joined Shargar in his own room。 There he made up a good
fire; and they sat and dried themselves。
'Noo; Shargar;' said Robert at length; 'hoo cam ye here?'
His question was too like one of his grandmother's to be pleasant to
Shargar。
'Dinna speyk to me that gait; Robert; or I'll cut my throat' he
returned。
'Hoots! I maun ken a' aboot it;' insisted Robert; but with much
modified and partly convicted tone。
'Weel; I never said I wadna tell ye a' aboot it。 The fac' 's
thisan' I'm no' up to the leein' as I used to be; Robert: I hae
tried it ower an' ower; but a lee comes rouch throw my thrapple
(windpipe) noo。 Faith! I cud hae leed ance wi' onybody; barrin'
the de'il。 I winna lee。 I'm nae leein'。 The fac's jist this: I
cudna bide ahin' ye ony langer。'
'But what; the muckle lang…tailed deevil! am I to do wi' ye?'
returned Robert; in real perplexity; though only pretended
displeasure。
'Gie me something to ate; an' I'll tell ye what to do wi' me;'
answered Shargar。 'I dinna care a scart (scratch) what it is。'
Robert rang the bell and ordered some porridge; and while it was
preparing; Shargar told his storyhow having heard a rumour of
apprenticeship to a tailor; he had the same night dropped from the
gable window to the ground; and with three halfpence in his pocket
had wandered and begged his way to Aberdeen; arriving with one
halfpenny left。
'But what am I to do wi' ye?' said Robert once more; in as much
perplexity as ever。
'Bide till I hae tellt ye; as I said I wad;' answered Shargar。
'Dinna ye think I'm the haveless (careless and therefore helpless)
crater I used to be。 I hae been in Aberdeen three days! Ay; an' I
hae seen you ilka day in yer reid goon; an' richt braw it is。 Luik
ye here!'
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out what amounted to two or
three shillings; chiefly in coppers; which he exposed with triumph
on the table。
'Whaur got ye a' that siller; man?' asked Robert。
'Here and there; I kenna whaur; but I hae gien the weicht o' 't for
't a' the samerinnin' here an' rinnin' there; cairryin' boxes till
an' frae the smacks; an' doin' a'thing whether they bade me or no。
Yesterday mornin' I got thrippence by hingin' aboot the Royal afore
the coches startit。 I luikit a' up and doon the street till I saw
somebody hine awa wi' a porkmanty。 Till 'im I ran; an' he was an
auld man; an' maist at the last gasp wi' the weicht o' 't; an' gae
me 't to carry。 An' wha duv ye think gae me a shillin' the verra
first nicht?Wha but my brither Sandy?'
'Lord Rothie?'
'Ay; faith。 I kent him weel eneuch; but little he kent me。 There
he was upo' Black Geordie。 He's turnin' auld noo。'
'Yer brither?'
'Na。 He's young eneuch for ony mischeef; but Black Geordie。 What on
earth gars him gang stravaguin' aboot upo' that deevil? I doobt
he's a kelpie; or a hell…horse; or something no canny o' that kin';
for faith! brither Sandy's no ower canny himsel'; I'm thinkin'。 But
Geordiethe aulder the waur set (inclined)。 An' sae I'm thinkin'
wi' his maister。'
'Did ye iver see yer father; Shargar?'
'Na。 Nor I dinna want to see 'im。 I'm upo' my mither's side。 But
that's naething to the pint。 A' that I want o' you 's to lat me
come hame at nicht; an' lie upo' the flure here。 I sweir I'll lie
i' the street gin ye dinna lat me。 I'll sleep as soun' 's Peter
MacInnes whan Maccleary's preachin'。 An' I winna ate muckleI hae
a dreidfu' pooer o' aitin'an' a' 'at I gether I'll fess hame to
you; to du wi' 't as ye like。Man; I cairriet a heap o' things the
day till the skipper o' that boat 'at ye gaed intil wi' Maister
Ericson the nicht。 He's a fine chiel' that skipper!'
Robert was astonished at the change that had passed upon Shargar。
His departure had cast him upon his own resources; and allowed the
individuality repressed by every event of his history; even by his
worship of Robert; to begin to develop itself。 Miserable for a few
weeks; he had revived in the fancy that to work hard at school would
give him some chance of rejoining Robert。 Thence; too; he had
watched to please Mrs。 Falconer; and had indeed begun to buy golden
opinions from all sorts of people。 He had a hope in prospect。 But
into the midst fell the whisper of the apprenticeship like a
thunderbolt out of a clear sky。 He fled at once。
'Weel; ye can hae my bed the nicht;' said Robert; 'for I maun sit up
wi' Mr。 Ericson。'
''Deed I'll hae naething o' the kin'。 I'll sleep upo' the flure; or
else upo' the door…stane。 Man; I'm no clean eneuch efter what I've
come throu sin' I drappit frae the window…sill i' the ga'le…room。
But jist len' me yer plaid; an' I'll sleep upo' the rug here as gin
I war i' Paradees。 An' faith; sae I am; Robert。 Ye maun gang to
yer bed some time the nicht forby (besides); or ye winna be fit for
yer wark the morn。 Ye can jist gie me a kick; an' I'll be up afore
ye can gie me anither。'
Their supper arrived from below; and; each on one side of the fire;
they ate the porridge; conversing all the while about old timesfor
the youngest life has its old times; its golden ageand old
adventures;Dooble Sanny; Betty; &c。; &c。 There were but two
subjects which Robert avoidedMiss St。 John and the Bonnie Leddy。
Shargar was at length deposited upon the little bit of hearthrug
which adorned rather than enriched the room; with Robert's plaid of
shepherd tartan around him; and an Ainsworth's dictionary under his
head for a pillow。
'Man; I fin' mysel' jist like a muckle colley (sheep…dog);' he said。
'Whan I close my een; I'm no sure 'at I'm no i' the inside o' yer
auld luckie…daiddie's kilt。 The Lord preserve me frae ever sic a
fricht again as yer grannie an' Betty gae me the nicht they fand me
in 't! I dinna believe it's in natur' to hae sic a fricht twise in
ae lifetime。 Sae I'll fa' asleep at ance; an' say nae mairbut as
muckle o' my prayers as I can min' upo' noo 'at grannie's no at my
lug。'
'Haud yer impidence; an' yer tongue thegither;' said Robert。 'Min'
'at my grannie's been the best frien' ye ever had。'
''Cep' my ain mither;' returned Shargar; with a sleepy doggedness in
his tone。
During their conference; Ericson had been slumbering。 Robert had
visited him from time to time; but he had not awaked。 As soon as
Shargar was disposed of; he took his candle and sat down by him。 He
grew more uneasy。 Robert guessed that the candle was the cause; and
put it out。 Ericson was quieter。 So Robert sat in the dark。
But the rain had now ceased。 Some upper wind had swept the clouds
from the sky; and the whole world of stars was radiant over the
earth and its griefs。
'O God; where art thou?' he said in his heart; and went to his own
room to look out。
There was no curtain; and the blind had not been drawn down;
therefore the earth looked in at the storm…window。 The sea neither
glimmered nor shone。 It lay across the horizon like a low level
cloud; out of which came a moaning。 Was this moaning all of the
earth; or was there trouble in the starry places too? thought
Robert; as if already he had begun to suspect the truth from
afarthat save in the secret place of the Most High; and in the
heart that is hid with the Son of Man in the bosom of the Father;
there is troublea sacred unresteverywherethe moaning of a tide
setting homewards; even towards the bosom of that Father。
CHAPTER VIII。
A HUMAN PROVIDENCE。
Robert kept himself thoroughly awake the whole night; and it was
well that he had not to attend classes in the morning。 As the gray
of the world's reviving consciousness melted in at the window; the
things around and within him looked and felt ghastly。 Nothing is
liker the gray dawn than the soul of one who has been watching by a
sick bed all the long hours of the dark; except; indeed; it be the
first glimmerings of truth on the mind lost in the dark of a godless
life。
Ericson had waked often; and Robert had administered his medicine
carefully。 But he had been mostly betwee