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groupssome twenty or so； here and there。 When he let himself in
with his pass…key； there were two men in the entry。 Without
stopping to speak； he ran up to his own chambers。 When he got into
his sitting…room； there stood De Fleuri； who simply waved his hand
towards the old sofa。 On it lay an elderly man； with his eyes half
open； and a look almost of idiocy upon his pale； puffed face； which
was damp and shining。 His breathing was laboured； but there was no
further sign of suffering。 He lay perfectly still。 Falconer saw at
once that he was under the influence of some narcotic； probably
opium； and the same moment the all but conviction darted into his
mind that Andrew Falconer； his grandmother's son； lay there before
him。 That he was his own father he had no feeling yet。 He turned
to De Fleuri。
'Thank you； friend；' he said。 'I shall find time to thank you。'
'Are we right？' asked De Fleuri。
'I don't know。 I think so；' answered Falconer； and without another
word the man withdrew。
His first mood was very strange。 It seemed as if all the romance
had suddenly deserted his life； and it lay bare and hopeless。 He
felt nothing。 No tears rose to the brim of their bottomless
wellsthe only wells that have no bottom； for they go into the
depths of the infinite soul。 He sat down in his chair； stunned as
to the heart and all the finer chords of his nature。 The man on the
horsehair sofa lay breathingthat was all。 The gray hair about the
pale ill…shaven face glimmered like a cloud before him。 What should
he do or say when he awaked？ How approach this far…estranged soul？
How ever send the cry of father into that fog…filled world？ Could
he ever have climbed on those knees and kissed those lips； in the
far…off days when the sun and the wind of that northern atmosphere
made his childhood blessed beyond dreams？ The actualthat is the
present phase of the ever…changinglooked the ideal in the face；
and the mirror that held them both； shook and quivered at the
discord of the faces reflected。 A kind of moral cold seemed to
radiate from the object before him； and chill him to the very bones。
This could not long be endured。 He fled from the actual to the
source of all the idealto that Saviour who； the infinite mediator；
mediates between all hopes and all positions； between the most
debased actual and the loftiest ideal； between the little scoffer of
St。 Giles's and his angel that ever beholds the face of the Father
in heaven。 He fell on his knees； and spoke to God； saying that he
had made this man； that the mark of his fingers was on the man's
soul somewhere。 He prayed to the making Spirit to bring the man to
his right mind； to give him once more the heart of a child； to begin
him yet again at the beginning。 Then at last； all the evil he had
done and suffered would but swell his gratitude to Him who had
delivered him from himself and his own deeds。 Having breathed this
out before the God of his life； Falconer rose； strengthened to meet
the honourable debased soul when it should at length look forth from
the dull smeared windows of those ill…used eyes。
He felt his pulse。 There was no danger from the narcotic。 The coma
would pass away。 Meantime he would get him to bed。 When he began
to undress him a new reverence arose which overcame all disgust at
the state in which he found him。 At length one sad little fact
about his dress； revealing the poverty…stricken attempt of a man to
preserve the shadow of decency； called back the waters of the
far…ebbed ocean of his feelings。 At the prick of a pin the heart's
blood will flow： at the sight ofa pin it wasRobert burst into
tears； and wept like a child； the deadly cold was banished from his
heart； and he not only loved； but knew that he lovedfelt the love
that was there。 Everything then about the worn body and shabby
garments of the man smote upon the heart of his son； and through his
very poverty he was sacred in his eyes。 The human heart awakened
the filialreversing thus the ordinary process of Nature； who by
means of the filial； when her plans are unbroken； awakes the human；
and he reproached himself bitterly for his hardness； as he now
judged his late mental conditionunfairly； I think。 He soon had
him safe in bed； unconscious of the helping hands that had been busy
about him in his heedless sleep； unconscious of the radiant planet
of love that had been folding him round in its atmosphere of
affection。
But while he thus ministered； a new question arose in his mindto
meet with its own new； God…given answer。 What if this should not be
the man after all？if this love had been spent in mistake； and did
not belong to him at all？ The answer was； that he was a man。 The
love Robert had given he could not； would not withdraw。 The man who
had been for a moment as his father he could not cease to regard
with devotion。 At least he was a man with a divine soul。 He might
at least be somebody's father。 Where love had found a moment's rest
for the sole of its foot； there it must build its nest。
When he had got him safe in bed； he sat down beside him to think
what he would do next。 This sleep gave him very needful leisure to
think。 He could determine nothingnot even how to find out if he
was indeed his father。 If he approached the subject without guile；
the man might be fearful and cunningmight have reasons for being
so； and for striving to conceal the truth。 But this was the first
thing to make sure of； because； if it was he； all the hold he had
upon him lay in his knowing it for certain。 He could not think。 He
had had little sleep the night before。 He must not sleep this
night。 He dragged his bath into his sitting…room； and refreshed his
faculties with plenty of cold water； then lighted his pipe and went
on thinkingnot without prayer to that Power whose candle is the
understanding of man。 All at once he saw how to begin。 He went
again into the chamber； and looked at the man； and handled him； and
knew by his art that a waking of some sort was nigh。 Then he went
to a corner of his sitting…room； and from beneath the table drew out
a long box； and from the box lifted Dooble Sandy's auld wife； tuned
the somewhat neglected strings； and laid the instrument on the
table。
When； keeping constant watch over the sleeping man； he judged at
length that his soul had come near enough to the surface of the
ocean of sleep to communicate with the outer world through that
bubble his body； which had floated upon its waves all the night
unconscious； he put his chair just outside the chamber door； which
opened from his sitting…room； and began to play gently； softly； far
away。 For a while he extemporized only； thinking of Rothieden； and
the grandmother； and the bleach…green； and the hills； and the waste
old factory； and his mother's portrait and letters。 As he dreamed
on； his dream got louder； and； he hoped； was waking a more and more
vivid dream in the mind of the sleeper。 'For who can tell；' thought
Falconer； 'what mysterious sympathies of blood and childhood's
experience there may be between me and that man？such； it may be；
that my utterance on the violin will wake in his soul the very
visions of which my soul is full while I play； each with its own
nebulous atmosphere of dream…light around it。' For music wakes its
own feeling； and feeling wakes thought； or rather； when perfected；
blossoms into thought； thought radiant of music as those lilies that
shine phosphorescent in the July nights。 He played more and more
forcefully； growing in hope。 But he had been led astray in some
measure by the fulness of his expectation。 Strange to tell； doctor
as he was； he had forgotten one important factor in his calculation：
how the man would awake from his artificial sleep。 He had not
reckoned of how the limbeck of his brain would be left discoloured
with vile deposit； when the fumes of the narcotic should have
settled and given up its central spaces to the faintness of
desertion。
Robert was very keen of hearing。 Indeed he possessed all his senses
keener than any other man I have known。 He heard him toss on his
bed。 Then he broke into a growl； and damned the miauling； which； he
said； the strings could never have learned anywhere but in a cat's
belly。 But Robert was used to bad language； and there are some bad
things which； seeing that there they are； it is of the greatest
consequence to get used to。 It gave him； no doubt； a pang of
disappointment to hear such an echo to his music from the soul which
he had hoped especially fitted to respond in harmonious unison with
the wail of his violin。 But not for even this moment did he lose
his presence of mind。 He instantly moderated the tone of the
instrument； and gradually drew the sound away once more into the
distance of hearing。 But he did not therefore let it die。 Through
various changes it floated in the thin ？ther of the