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live for ever； were set upon that which had passed away。 But the
child that weeps because his mutilated doll will not rise from the
dead； shall yet find relief from his sorrow； a true relief； both
human and divine。 He shall know that that which in the doll made
him love the doll； has not passed away。 And Robert must yet be
comforted for the loss of his bonny leddy。 If she had had a soul；
nothing but her own self could ever satisfy him。 As she had no
soul； another body might take her place； nor occasion reproach of
inconstancy。
But； in the meantime； the shears of Fate having cut the string of
the sky…soaring kite of his imagination； had left him with the stick
in his hand。 And thus the rest of that winter was dreary enough。
The glow was out of his heart； the glow was out of the world。 The
bleak； kindless wind was hissing through those pines that clothed
the hill above Bodyfauld； and over the dead garden； where in the
summer time the rose had looked down so lovingly on the heartsease。
If he had stood once more at gloaming in that barley…stubble； not
even the wail of Flodden…field would have found him there； but a
keen sense of personal misery and hopeless cold。 Was the summer a
lie？
Not so。 The winter restrains； that the summer may have the needful
time to do its work well； for the winter is but the sleep of summer。
Now in the winter of his discontent； and in Nature finding no help；
Robert was driven inwardsinto his garret； into his soul。 There；
the door of his paradise being walled up； he began； vaguely；
blindly； to knock against other doorssometimes against stone…walls
and rocks； taking them for doorsas travel…worn； and hence
brain…sick men have done in a desert of mountains。 A door； out or
in； he must find； or perish。
It fell； too； that Miss St。 John went to visit some friends who
lived in a coast town twenty miles off； and a season of heavy snow
followed by frost setting in； she was absent for six weeks； during
which time； without a single care to trouble him from without；
Robert was in the very desert of desolation。 His spirits sank
fearfully。 He would pass his old music…master in the street with
scarce a recognition； as if the bond of their relation had been
utterly broken； had vanished in the smoke of the martyred violin；
and all their affection had gone into the dust…heap of the past。
Dooble Sanny's character did not improve。 He took more and more
whisky； his bouts of drinking alternating as before with fits of
hopeless repentance。 His work was more neglected than ever； and his
wife having no money to spend even upon necessaries； applied in
desperation to her husband's bottle for comfort。 This comfort； to
do him justice； he never grudged her； and sometimes before midday
they would both be drunka condition expedited by the lack of food。
When they began to recover； they would quarrel fiercely； and at
last they became a nuisance to the whole street。 Little did the
whisky…hating old lady know to what god she had really offered up
that violinif the consequences of the holocaust can be admitted as
indicating the power which had accepted it。
But now began to appear in Robert the first signs of a practical
outcome of such truth as his grandmother had taught him； operating
upon the necessities of a simple and earnest nature。 Reality；
however lapt in vanity； or even in falsehood； cannot lose its power。
It isthe other is not。 She had taught him to look upthat there
was a God。 He would put it to the test。 Not that he doubted it yet：
he only doubted whether there was a hearing God。 But was not that
worse？ It was； I think。 For it is of far more consequence what
kind of a God； than whether a God or no。 Let not my reader suppose
I think it possible there could be other than a perfect
Godperfecteven to the vision of his creatures； the faith that
supplies the lack of vision being yet faithful to that vision。 I
speak from Robert's point of outlook。 But； indeed； whether better
or worse is no great matter； so long as he would see it or what
there was。 He had no comfort； and； without reasoning about it； he
felt that life ought to have comfortfrom which point he began to
conclude that the only thing left was to try whether the God in whom
his grandmother believed might not help him。 If the God would but
hear him； it was all he had yet learned to require of his Godhood。
And that must ever be the first thing to require。 More demands
would come； and greater answers he would find。 But nowif God
would but hear him！ If he spoke to him but one kind word； it would
be the very soul of comfort； he could no more be lonely。 A fountain
of glad imaginations gushed up in his heart at the thought。 What
if； from the cold winter of his life； he had but to open the door of
his garret…room； and； kneeling by the bare bedstead； enter into the
summer of God's presence！ What if God spoke to him face to face！
He had so spoken to Moses。 He sought him from no fear of the
future； but from present desolation； and if God came near to him； it
would not be with storm and tempest； but with the voice of a friend。
And surely； if there was a God at all； that is； not a power greater
than man； but a power by whose power man was； he must hear the voice
of the creature whom he had made； a voice that came crying out of
the very need which he had created。 Younger people than Robert are
capable of such divine metaphysics。 Hence he continued to disappear
from his grandmother's parlour at much the same hour as before。 In
the cold； desolate garret； he knelt and cried out into that which
lay beyond the thought that cried； the unknowable infinite； after
the God that may be known as surely as a little child knows his
mysterious mother。 And from behind him； the pale…blue； star…crowded
sky shone upon his head； through the window that looked upwards
only。
Mrs。 Falconer saw that he still went away as he had been wont； and
instituted observations； the result of which was the knowledge that
he went to his own room。 Her heart smote her； and she saw that the
boy looked sad and troubled。 There was scarce room in her heart for
increase of love； but much for increase of kindness； and she did
increase it。 In truth； he needed the smallest crumb of comfort that
might drop from the table of God's 'feastful friends。'
Night after night he returned to the parlour cold to the very heart。
God was not to be found； he said then。 He said afterwards that
even then 'God was with him though he knew it not。'
For the very first night； the moment that he knelt and cried； 'O
Father in heaven； hear me； and let thy face shine upon me'like a
flash of burning fire the words shot from the door of his heart： 'I
dinna care for him to love me； gin he doesna love ilka body；' and no
more prayer went from the desolate boy that night； although he knelt
an hour of agony in the freezing dark。 Loyal to what he had been
taught； he struggled hard to reduce his rebellious will to what he
supposed to be the will of God。 It was all in vain。 Ever a voice
within himsurely the voice of that God who he thought was not
hearingtold him that what he wanted was the love belonging to his
human nature； his human needsnot the preference of a
court…favourite。 He had a dim consciousness that he would be a
traitor to his race if he accepted a love； even from God； given him
as an exception from his kind。 But he did not care to have such a
love。 It was not what his heart yearned for。 It was not love。 He
could not love such a love。 Yet he strove against it allfought
for religion against right as he could； struggled to reduce his
rebellious feelings； to love that which was unlovely； to choose that
which was abhorrent； until nature almost gave way under the effort。
Often would he sink moaning on the floor； or stretch himself like a
corpse； save that it was face downwards； on the boards of the
bedstead。 Night after night he returned to the battle； but with no
permanent success。 What a success that would have been！ Night
after night he came pale and worn from the conflict； found his
grandmother and Shargar composed； and in the quietness of despair
sat down beside them to his Latin version。
He little thought； that every night； at the moment when he stirred
to leave the upper room； a pale…faced； red…eyed figure rose from its
seat on the top of the stair by the door； and sped with long…legged
noiselessness to resume its seat by the grandmother before he should
enter。 Shargar saw that Robert was unhappy； and the nearest he
could come to the sharing of his unhappiness was to take his place
outside the door within which he had retreated。 Little； too； did
Shargar； on his part； think that Robert； without knowing it； was
pleading for him insidepleading for him and for all his race in
the weeping that would not be comforted。
Robert had not the vaguest fancy that God was with hi