按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
distance of hearing。 But he did not therefore let it die。 Through
various changes it floated in the thin ？ther of the soul； changes
delicate as when the wind leaves the harp of the reeds by a river's
brink； and falls a…ringing at the heather bells； or playing with the
dry silvery pods of honesty that hang in the poor man's garden； till
at length it drew nearer once more； bearing on its wings the wail of
red Flodden； the Flowers of the Forest。 Listening through the
melody for sounds of a far different kind； Robert was aware that
those sounds had ceased； the growling was still； he heard no more
turnings to and fro。 How it was operating he could not tell；
further than that there must be some measure of soothing in its
influence。 He ceased quite； and listened again。 For a few moments
there was no sound。 Then he heard the half…articulate murmuring of
one whose organs have been all but overcome by the beneficent
paralysis of sleep； but whose feeble will would compel them to
utterance。 He was nearly asleep again。 Was it a fact； or a fancy
of Robert's eager heart？ Did the man really say；
'Play that again； father。 It's bonnie； that！ I aye likit the
Flooers o' the Forest。 Play awa'。 I hae had a frichtsome dream。 I
thocht I was i' the ill place。 I doobt I'm no weel。 But yer fiddle
aye did me gude。 Play awa'； father！'
All the night through； till the dawn of the gray morning； Falconer
watched the sleeping man； all but certain that he was indeed his
father。 Eternities of thought passed through his mind as he
watchedthis time by the couch； as he hoped； of a new birth。 He
was about to see what could be done by one man； strengthened by all
the aids that love and devotion could give； for the redemption of
his fellow。 As through the darkness of the night and a sluggish fog
to aid it； the light of a pure heaven made its slow irresistible
way； his hope grew that athwart the fog of an evil life； the
darkness that might be felt； the light of the Spirit of God would
yet penetrate the heart of the sinner； and shake the wickedness out
of it。 Deeper and yet deeper grew his compassion and his sympathy；
in prospect of the tortures the man must go through； before the will
that he had sunk into a deeper sleep than any into which opium could
sink his bodily being； would shake off its deathly lethargy； and
arise； torn with struggling pain； to behold the light of a new
spiritual morning。 All that he could do he was prepared to do；
regardless of entreaty； regardless of torture； anger； and hate； with
the inexorable justice of love； the law that will not； must not；
dares not yieldstrong with an awful tenderness； a wisdom that
cannot be turned aside； to redeem the lost soul of his father。 And
he strengthened his heart for the conflict by saying that if he
would do thus for his father； what would not God do for his child？
Had He not proved already； if there was any truth in the grand
story of the world's redemption through that obedience unto the
death； that his devotion was entire； and would leave nothing undone
that could be done to lift this sheep out of the pit into whose
darkness and filth he had fallen out of the sweet Sabbath of the
universe？
He removed all his clothes； searched the pockets； found in them one
poor shilling and a few coppers； a black cutty pipe； a box of snuff；
a screw of pigtail； a knife with a buckhorn handle and one broken
blade； and a pawn…ticket for a keyed flute； on the proceeds of which
he was now sleepinga sleep how dearly purchased； when he might
have had it free； as the gift of God's gentle darkness！ Then he
destroyed the garments； committing them to the fire as the hoped
farewell to the state of which they were the symbols and signs。
He found himself perplexed； however； by the absence of some of the
usual symptoms of the habit of opium； and concluded that his poor
father was in the habit of using stimulants as well as narcotics；
and that the action of the one interfered with the action of the
other。
He called his housekeeper。 She did not know whom her master
supposed his guest to be； and regarded him only as one of the many
objects of his kindness。 He told her to get some tea ready； as the
patient would most likely wake with a headache。 He instructed her
to wait upon him as a matter of course； and explain nothing。 He had
resolved to pass for the doctor； as indeed he was； and he told her
that if he should be at all troublesome； he would be with her at
once。 She must keep the room dark。 He would have his own breakfast
now； and if the patient remained quiet； would sleep on the sofa。
He woke murmuring； and evidently suffered from headache and nausea。
Mrs。 Ashton took him some tea。 He refused it with an oathmore of
discomfort than of ill…natureand was too unwell to show any
curiosity about the person who had offered it。 Probably he was
accustomed to so many changes of abode； and to so many bewilderments
of the brain； that he did not care to inquire where he was or who
waited upon him。 But happily for the heart's desire of Falconer；
the debauchery of his father had at length reached one of many
crises。 He had caught cold before De Fleuri and his comrades found
him。 He was now illfeverish and oppressed。 Through the whole of
the following week they nursed and waited upon him without his
asking a single question as to where he was or who they were； during
all which time Falconer saw no one but De Fleuri and the many poor
fellows who called to inquire after him and the result of their
supposed success。 He never left the house； but either watched by
the bedside； or waited in the next room。 Often would the patient
get out of bed； driven by the longing for drink or for opium；
gnawing him through all the hallucinations of delirium； but he was
weak； and therefore manageable。 If in any lucid moments he thought
where he was； he no doubt supposed that he was in a hospital； and
probably had sense enough to understand that it was of no use to
attempt to get his own way there。 He was soon much worn； and his
limbs trembled greatly。 It was absolutely necessary to give him
stimulants； or he would have died； but Robert reduced them gradually
as he recovered strength。
But there was an infinite work to be done beyond even curing him of
his evil habits。 To keep him from strong drink and opium； even till
the craving after them was gone； would be but the capturing of the
merest outwork of the enemy's castle。 He must be made such that；
even if the longing should return with tenfold force； and all the
means for its gratification should lie within the reach of his
outstretched hand； he would not touch them。 God only was able to do
that for him。 He would do all that he knew how to do； and God would
not fail of his part。 For this he had raised him up； to this he had
called him； for this work he had educated him； made him a physician；
given him money； time； the love and aid of his fellows； and； beyond
all； a rich energy of hope and faith in his heart； emboldening him
to attempt whatever his hand found to do。
CHAPTER XIII。
ANDREW REBELS。
As Andrew Falconer grew better； the longing of his mind after former
excitement and former oblivion； roused and kept alive the longing of
his body； until at length his thoughts dwelt upon nothing but his
diseased cravings。 His whole imagination； naturally not a feeble
one； was concentrated on the delights in store for him as soon as he
was well enough to be his own master； as he phrased it； once more。
He soon began to see that； if he was in a hospital； it must be a
private one； and at last； irresolute as he was both from character
and illness； made up his mind to demand his liberty。 He sat by his
bedroom fire one afternoon； for he needed much artificial warmth。
The shades of evening were thickening the air。 He had just had one
of his frequent meals； and was gazing； as he often did； into the
glowing coals。 Robert had come in； and after a little talk was
sitting silent at the opposite corner of the chimney…piece。
'Doctor；' said Andrew； seizing the opportunity； 'you've been very
kind to me； and I don't know how to thank you； but it is time I was
going。 I am quite well now。 Would you kindly order the nurse to
bring me my clothes to…morrow morning； and I will go。'
This he said with the quavering voice of one who speaks because he
has made up his mind to speak。 A certain something； I believe a
vague molluscous form of conscience； made him wriggle and shift
uneasily upon his chair as he spoke。
'No； no；' said Robert； 'you are not fit to go。 Make yourself
comfortable； my dear sir。 There is no reason why you should go。'
'There is something I don't understand about it。 I want to go。'
'It would ruin my character as a professional man to let a patient
in your condition leave the house。 The weather is unfavourable。 I
can