robert falconer-第21章

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what　he　pleased；　which　was　nowise　very　wicked；　the　moment　he　was　out

of　the　old　lady's　sight；　was　well　fed　and　well　cared　for；　and　when

he　was　asked　how　he　was；　gave　the　invariable　answer：　'Middlin'。'　　He

was　not　very　happy。



There　was　little　communication　in　words　between　the　two　boys；　for

the　one　had　not　much　to　say；　and　the　pondering　fits　of　the　other

grew　rather　than　relaxed　in　frequency　and　intensity。　　Yet　amongst

chance　acquaintances　in　the　town　Robert　had　the　character　of　a　wag；

of　which　he　was　totally　unaware　himself。　　Indeed；　although　he　had

more　than　the　ordinary　share　of　humour；　I　suspect　it　was　not　so　much

his　fun　as　his　earnest　that　got　him　the　character；　for　he　would　say

such　altogether　unheard…of　and　strange　things；　that　the　only　way

they　were　capable　of　accounting　for　him　was　as　a　humorist。



'Eh！'　he　said　once　to　Elshender；　during　a　pause　common　to　a

thunder…storm　and　a　lesson　on　the　violin　'eh！　wadna　ye　like　to　be　up

in　that　clood　wi'　a　spaud；　turnin'　ower　the　divots　and　catchin'　the

flashes　lyin'　aneath　them　like　lang　reid　fiery　worms？'



'Ay；　man；　but　gin　ye　luik　up　to　the　cloods　that　gait；　ye'll　never　be

muckle　o'　a　fiddler。'



This　was　merely　an　outbreak　of　that　insolence　of　advice　so　often

shown　to　the　young　from　no　vantage…ground　but　that　of　age　and

faithlessness；　reminding　one　of　the　'jigging　fool'　who　interfered

between　Brutus　and　Cassius　on　the　sole　ground　that　he　had　seen　more

years　than　they。　　As　if　ever　a　fiddler　that　did　not　look　up　to　the

clouds　would　be　anything　but　a　catgut…scraper！　　Even　Elshender's

fiddle　was　the　one　angel　that　held　back　the　heavy　curtain　of　his

gross　nature；　and　let　the　sky　shine　through。　　He　ought　to　have　been

set　fiddling　every　Sunday　morning；　and　from　his　fiddling　dragged

straight　to　church。　　It　was　the　only　thing　man　could　have　done　for

his　conversion；　for　then　his　heart　was　open；　But　I　fear　the　prayers

would　have　closed　it　before　the　sermon　came。　　He　should　rather　have

been　compelled　to　take　his　fiddle　to　church　with　him；　and　have　a

gentle　scrape　at　it　in　the　pauses　of　the　service；　only　there　are　no

such　pauses　in　the　service；　alas！　　And　Dooble　Sanny；　though　not　too

religious　to　get　drunk　occasionally；　was　a　great　deal　too　religious

to　play　his　fiddle　on　the　Sabbath：　he　would　not　willingly　anger　the

powers　above；　but　it　was　sometimes　a　sore　temptation；　especially

after　he　got　possession　of　old　Mr。　Falconer's　wonderful　instrument。



'Hoots；　man！'　he　would　say　to　Robert；　'dinna　han'le；　her　as　gin　she

war　an　egg…box。　　Tak　haud　o'　her　as　gin　she　war　a　leevin'　crater。

Ye　maun　jist　straik　her　canny；　an'　wile　the　music　oot　o'　her；　for

she's　like　ither　women：　gin　ye　be　rouch　wi'　her；　ye　winna　get　a　word

oot　o'　her。　　An'　dinna　han'le　her　that　gait。　　She　canna　bide　to　be

contred　an'　pu'd　this　gait　and　that　gait。Come　to　me；　my　bonny

leddy。　　Ye'll　tell　me　yer　story；　winna　ye；　my　dauty　（pet）？'



And　with　every　gesture　as　if　he　were　humouring　a　shy　and　invalid

girl；　he　would；　as　he　said；　wile　the　music　out　of　her　in　sobs　and

wailing；　till　the　instrument；　gathering　courage　in　his　embrace；　grew

gently　merry　in　its　confidence；　and　broke　at　last　into　airy

laughter。　　He　always　spoke；　and　apparently　thought；　of　his　violin　as

a　woman；　just　as　a　sailor　does　of　his　craft。　　But　there　was　nothing

about　him；　except　his　love　for　music　and　its　instruments；　to　suggest

other　than　a　most　uncivilized　nature。　　That　which　was　fine　in　him

was　constantly　checked　and　held　down　by　the　gross；　the　merely　animal

overpowered　the　spiritual；　and　it　was　only　upon　occasion　that　his

heavenly　companion；　the　violin；　could　raise　him　a　few　feet　above　the

mire　and　the　clay。　　She　never　succeeded　in　setting　his　feet　on　a

rock；　while；　on　the　contrary；　he　often　dragged　her　with　him　into　the

mire　of　questionable　company　and　circumstances。　　Worthy　Mr。　Falconer

would　have　been　horrified　to　see　his　umquhile　modest　companion　in

such　society　as　that　into　which　she　was　now　introduced　at　times。

But　nevertheless　the　soutar　was　a　good　and　patient　teacher；　and

although　it　took　Robert　rather　more　than　a　fortnight　to　redeem　his

pledge　to　Shargar；　he　did　make　progress。　　It　could　not；　however；　be

rapid；　seeing　that　an　hour　at　a　time；　two　evenings　in　the　week；　was

all　that　he　could　give　to　the　violin。　　Even　with　this　moderation；

the　risk　of　his　absence　exciting　his　grandmother's　suspicion　and

inquiry　was　far　from　small。



And　now；　were　those　really　faded　old　memories　of　his　grandfather　and

his　merry　kindness；　all　so　different　from　the　solemn　benevolence　of

his　grandmother；　which　seemed　to　revive　in　his　bosom　with　the

revivification　of　the　violin？　　The　instrument　had　surely　laid　up　a

story　in　its　hollow　breast；　had　been　dreaming　over　it　all　the　time

it　lay　hidden　away　in　the　closet；　and　was　now　telling　out　its　dreams

about　the　old　times　in　the　ear　of　the　listening　boy。　　To　him　also　it

began　to　assume　something　of　that　mystery　and　life　which　had　such　a

softening；　and；　for　the　moment　at　least；　elevating　influence　on　his

master。



At　length　the　love　of　the　violin　had　grown　upon　him　so；　that　he

could　not　but　cast　about　how　he　might　enjoy　more　of　its　company。　　It

would　not　do；　for　many　reasons；　to　go　oftener　to　the　shoemaker's；

especially　now　that　the　days　were　getting　longer。　　Nor　was　that　what

he　wanted。　　He　wanted　opportunity　for　practice。　　He　wanted　to　be

alone　with　the　creature；　to　see　if　she　would　not　say　something　more

to　him　than　she　had　ever　said　yet。　　Wafts　and　odours　of　melodies

began　to　steal　upon　him　ere　he　was　aware　in　the　half　lights　between

sleeping　and　waking：　if　he　could　only　entice　them　to　creep　out　of

the　violin；　and　once　'bless　his　humble　ears'　with　the　bodily　hearing

of　them！　　Perhaps　he　mightwho　could　tell？　　But　how？　　But　where？



There　was　a　building　in　Rothieden　not　old；　yet　so　deserted　that　its

very　history　seemed　to　have　come　to　a　standstill；　and　the　dust　that

filled　it　to　have　fallen　from　the　plumes　of　passing　centuries。　　It

was　the　property　of　Mrs。　Falconer；　left　her　by　her　husband。　　Trade

had　gradually　ebbed　away　from　the　town　till　the　thread…factory　stood

unoccupied；　with　all　its　machinery　rusting　and　mouldering；　just　as

the　work…people　had　risen　and　left　it　one　hot；　midsummer　day；　when

they　were　told　that　their　services　were　no　longer　required。　　Some　of

the　thread　even　remained　upon　the　spools；　and　in　the　hollows　of　some

of　the　sockets　the　oil　had　as　yet　dried　only　into　a　paste；　although

to　Robert　the　desertion　of　the　place　appeared　immemorial。　　It　stood

at　a　furlong's　distance　from　the　house；　on　the　outskirt　of　the　town。

There　was　a　large；　neglected　garden　behind　it；　with　some　good

fruit…trees；　and　plenty　of　the　bushes　which　boys　love　for　the　sake

of　their　berries。　　After　grannie's　jam…pots　were　properly　filled；

the　remnant　of　these；　a　gleaning　far　greater　than　the　gathering；　was

at　the　disposal　of　Robert；　and；　philosopher　although　in　some　measure

he　was　already；　he　appreciated　the　privilege。　　Haunting　this　garden

in　the　previous　summer；　he　had　for　the　first　time　made　acquaintance

with　the　interior　of　the　deserted　factory。　　The　door　to　the　road　was

always　kept　locked；　and　the　key　of　it　lay　in　one　of　grannie's

drawers；　but　he　had　then　discovered　a　back　entrance　less　securely

fastened；　and　with　a　strange　mingling　of　fear　and　curiosity　had　from

time　to　time　extended　his　rambles　over　what　seemed　to　him　the　huge

desolation　of　the　place。　　Half　of　it　was　well　built　of　stone　and

lime；　but　of　the　other　half　the　upper　part　was　built　of　wood；　which

now　showed　signs　of　considerable　decay。　　One　room　opened　into

another　through　the　length　of　the　place；　revealing　a　vista　of

machines；　standing　with　an　air　of　the　last　folding　of　the　wings　of

silence　over　them；　and　the　sense　of　a　deeper　and　deeper　sinking　into

the　soundless　abyss。　　But　their　activity　was　not　so　far　vanished　but

that　by　degrees　Robert　came　to　fancy　that　he　had　some　time　or　other

seen　a　woman　seat