robert falconer-第23章

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that　he　would　not　run　the　risk　of　carrying　her　out　unprotected；　and

it　was　altogether　a　bulky　venture　with　the　case。　　But　by　spying　and

speeding　he　managed　it；　and　soon　found　himself　safe　within　the　high

walls　of　the　garden。



It　was　early　spring。　　There　had　been　a　heavy　fall　of　sleet　in　the

morning；　and　now　the　wind　blew　gustfully　about　the　place。　　The

neglected　trees　shook　showers　upon　him　as　he　passed　under　them；

trampling　down　the　rank　growth　of　the　grass…walks。　　The　long　twigs

of　the　wall…trees；　which　had　never　been　nailed　up；　or　had　been　torn

down　by　the　snow　and　the　blasts　of　winter；　went　trailing　away　in　the

moan　of　the　fitful　wind；　and　swung　back　as　it　sunk　to　a　sigh。　　The

currant　and　gooseberry　bushes；　bare　and　leafless；　and　'shivering　all

for　cold；'　neither　reminded　him　of　the　feasts　of　the　past　summer；

nor　gave　him　any　hope　for　the　next。　　He　strode　careless　through　it

all　to　gain　the　door　at　the　bottom。　　It　yielded　to　a　push；　and　the

long　grass　streamed　in　over　the　threshold　as　he　entered。　　He　mounted

by　a　broad　stair　in　the　main　part　of　the　house；　passing　the　silent

clock　in　one　of　its　corners；　now　expiating　in　motionlessness　the

false　accusations　it　had　brought　against　the　work…people；　and　turned

into　the　chaos　of　machinery。



I　fear　that　my　readers　will　expect；　from　the　minuteness　with　which　I

recount　these　particulars；　that；　after　all；　I　am　going　to　describe　a

rendezvous　with　a　lady；　or　a　ghost　at　least。　　I　will　not　plead　in

excuse　that　I；　too；　have　been　infected　with　Sandy's　mode　of

regarding　her；　but　I　plead　that　in　the　mind　of　Robert　the　proceeding

was　involved　in　something　of　that　awe　and　mystery　with　which　a　youth

approaches　the　woman　he　loves。　　He　had　not　yet　arrived　at　the　period

when　the　feminine　assumes　its　paramount　influence；　combining　in

itself　all　that　music；　colour；　form；　odour；　can　suggest；　with

something　infinitely　higher　and　more　divine；　but　he　had　begun　to　be

haunted　with　some　vague　aspirations　towards　the　infinite；　of　which

his　attempts　on　the　violin　were　the　outcome。　　And　now　that　he　was　to

be　alone；　for　the　first　time；　with　this　wonderful　realizer　of　dreams

and　awakener　of　visions；　to　do　with　her　as　he　would；　to　hint　by

gentle　touches　at　the　thoughts　that　were　fluttering　in　his　soul；　and

listen　for　her　voice　that　by　the　echoes　in　which　she　strove　to

respond　he　might　know　that　she　understood　him；　it　was　no　wonder　if

he　felt　an　ethereal　foretaste　of　the　expectation　that　haunts　the

approach　of　souls。



But　I　am　not　even　going　to　describe　his　first　tête…à…tête　with　his

violin。　　Perhaps　he　returned　from　it　somewhat　disappointed。

Probably　he　found　her　coy；　unready　to　acknowledge　his　demands　on

her　attention。　　But　not　the　less　willingly　did　he　return　with　her　to

the　solitude　of　the　ruinous　factory。　　On　every　safe　occasion；

becoming　more　and　more　frequent　as　the　days　grew　longer；　he　repaired

thither；　and　every　time　returned　more　capable　of　drawing　the

coherence　of　melody　from　that　matrix　of　sweet　sounds。



At　length　the　people　about　began　to　say　that　the　factory　was

haunted；　that　the　ghost　of　old　Mr。　Falconer；　unable　to　repose　while

neglect　was　ruining　the　precious　results　of　his　industry；　visited

the　place　night　after　night；　and　solaced　his　disappointment　by

renewing　on　his　favourite　violin　strains　not　yet　forgotten　by　him　in

his　grave；　and　remembered　well　by　those　who　had　been　in　his　service；

not　a　few　of　whom　lived　in　the　neighbourhood　of　the　forsaken

building。



One　gusty　afternoon；　like　the　first；　but　late　in　the　spring；　Robert

repaired　as　usual　to　this　his　secret　haunt。　　He　had　played　for　some

time；　and　now；　from　a　sudden　pause　of　impulse；　had　ceased；　and　begun

to　look　around　him。　　The　only　light　came　from　two　long　pale　cracks

in　the　rain…clouds　of　the　west。　　The　wind　was　blowing　through　the

broken　windows；　which　stretched　away　on　either　hand。　　A　dreary；

windy　gloom；　therefore；　pervaded　the　desolate　place；　and　in　the

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　gr