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！
father must be sacred even from the eyes of their son。 But what
other or fitter messenger than himself could bear it to its
destination？ It was for this that he had been guided to it。
For years he had regarded the finding of his father as the first
duty of his manhood： it was as if his mother had now given her
sanction to the quest； with this letter to carry to the husband who；
however he might have erred； was yet dear to her。 He replaced it in
the box； but the box no more on the forsaken shelf with its dreary
barricade of soulless records。 He carried it with him； and laid it
in the bottom of his box； which henceforth he kept carefully locked：
there lay as it were the pledge of his father's salvation； and his
mother's redemption from an eternal grief。
He turned to his equation： it had cleared itself up； he worked it
out in five minutes。 Betty came to tell him that the dinner was
ready； and he went down； peaceful and hopeful； to his grandmother。
While at home he never worked in the evenings： it was bad enough to
have to do so at college。 Hence nature had a chance with him again。
Blessings on the wintry blasts that broke into the first youth of
Summer！ They made him feel what summer was！ Blessings on the
cheerless days of rain； and even of sleet and hail； that would shove
the reluctant year back into January。 The fair face of Spring； with
her tears dropping upon her quenchless smiles； peeped in suppressed
triumph from behind the growing corn and the budding sallows on the
river…bank。 Nay； even when the snow came once more in defiance of
calendars； it was but a background from which the near genesis
should 'stick fiery off。'
In general he had a lonely walk after his lesson with Miss St。 John
was over： there was no one at Rothieden to whom his heart and
intellect both were sufficiently drawn to make a close friendship
possible。 He had companions； however： Ericson had left his papers
with him。 The influence of these led him into yet closer sympathy
with Nature and all her moods； a sympathy which； even in the stony
heart of London； he not only did not lose but never ceased to feel。
Even there a breath of wind would not only breathe upon him； it
would breathe into him； and a sunset seen from the Strand was lovely
as if it had hung over rainbow seas。 On his way home he would often
go into one of the shops where the neighbours congregated in the
evenings； and hold a little talk； and although； with Miss St。 John
filling his heart； his friend's poems his imagination； and geometry
and algebra his intellect； great was the contrast between his own
inner mood and the words by which he kept up human relations with
his townsfolk； yet in after years he counted it one of the greatest
blessings of a lowly birth and education that he knew hearts and
feelings which to understand one must have been young amongst them。
He would not have had a chance of knowing such as these if he had
been the son of Dr。 Anderson and born in Aberdeen。
CHAPTER XIX。
ROBERT MEDIATES。
One lovely evening in the first of the summer Miss St。 John had
dismissed him earlier than usual； and he had wandered out for a
walk。 After a round of a couple of miles； he returned by a
fir…wood； through which went a pathway。 He had heard Mary St。 John
say that she was going to see the wife of a labourer who lived at
the end of this path。 In the heart of the trees it was growing very
dusky； but when he came to a spot where they stood away from each
other a little space； and the blue sky looked in from above with one
cloud floating in it from which the rose of the sunset was fading；
he seated himself on a little mound of moss that had gathered over
an ancient stump by the footpath； and drew out his friend's papers。
Absorbed in his reading； he was not aware of an approach till the
rustle of silk startled him。 He lifted up his eyes； and saw Miss
St。 John a few yards from him on the pathway。 He rose。
'It's almost too dark to read now； isn't it； Robert？' she said。
'Ah！' said。 Robert； 'I know this writing so well that I could read
it by moonlight。 I wish I might read some of it to you。 You would
like it。'
'May I ask whose it is； then？ Poetry； too！'
'It's Mr。 Ericson's。 But I'm feared he wouldna like me to read it
to anybody but myself。 And yet'
'I don't think he would mind me；' returned Miss St。 John。 'I do know
him a little。 It is not as if I were quite a stranger； you know。
Did he tell you not？'
'No。 But then he never thought of such a thing。 I don't know if
it's fair； for they are carelessly written； and there are words and
lines here and there that I am sure he would alter if he cared for
them ae hair。'
'Then if he doesn't care for them； he won't mind my hearing them。
There！' she said； seating herself on the stump。 'You sit down on
the grass and read meone at least。'
'You'll remember they were never intended to be read？' urged Robert；
not knowing what he was doing； and so fulfilling his destiny。
'I will be as jealous of his honour as ever you can wish；' answered
Miss St。 John gaily。
Robert laid himself on the grass at her feet； and read：
MY TWO GENIUSES。
One is a slow and melancholy maid：
I know not if she cometh from the skies；
Or from the sleepy gulfs； but she will rise
Often before me in the twilight shade
Holding a bunch of poppies； and a blade
Of springing wheat： prostrate my body lies
Before her on the turf； the while she ties
A fillet of the weed about my head；
And in the gaps of sleep I seem to hear
A gentle rustle like the stir of corn；
And words like odours thronging to my ear：
'Lie still； beloved； still until the morn；
Lie still with me upon this rolling sphere；
Still till the judgmentthou art faint and worn。'
The other meets me in the public throng：
Her hair streams backward from her loose attire；
She hath a trumpet and an eye of fire；
She points me downward steadily and long
'There is thy gravearise； my son； be strong！
Hands are upon thy crown； awake； aspire
To immortality； heed not the lyre
Of the enchantress； nor her poppy…song；
But in the stillness of the summer calm；
Tremble for what is godlike in thy being。
Listen awhile； and thou shalt hear the psalm
Of victory sung by creatures past thy seeing；
And from far battle…fields there comes the neighing
Of dreadful onset； though the air is balm。'
Maid with the poppies； must I let thee go？
Alas！ I may not； thou art likewise dear；
I am but human； and thou hast a tear；
When she hath nought but splendour； and the glow
Of a wild energy that mocks the flow
Of the poor sympathies which keep us here。
Lay past thy poppies； and come twice as near；
And I will teach thee； and thou too shalt grow；
And thou shalt walk with me in open day
Through the rough thoroughfares with quiet grace；
And the wild…visaged maid shall lead the way；
Timing her footsteps to a gentler pace；
As her great orbs turn ever on thy face；
Drinking in draughts of loving help alway。
Miss St。 John did not speak。
'War ye able to follow him？' asked Robert。
'Quite； I assure you；' she answered； with a tremulousness in her
voice which delighted Robert as evidence of his friend's success。
'But they're nae a' so easy to follow； I can tell ye； mem。 Just
hearken to this；' he said； with some excitement。
When the storm was proudest；
And the wind was loudest；
I heard the hollow caverns drinking down below；
When the stars were bright；
And the ground was white；
I heard the grasses springing underneath the snow。
Many voices spake
The river to the lake；
The iron…ribbed sky was talking to the sea；
And every starry spark
Made music with the dark；
And said how bright and beautiful everything must be。
'That line； mem；' remarked Robert； ''s only jist scrattit in； as gin
he had no intention o' leavin' 't； an' only set it there to keep
room for anither。 But we'll jist gang on wi' the lave o' 't。 I
ouchtna to hae interruppit it。'
When the sun was setting；
All the clouds were getting
Beautiful and silvery in the rising moon；
Beneath the leafless trees
Wrangling in the breeze；
I could hardly see them for the leaves of June。
When the day had ended；
And the night descended；
I heard the sound of streams that I heard not through the day
And every peak afar；
Was ready for a star；
And they climbed and rolled around until the morning gray。
Then slumber soft and holy
Came down upon me slowly；
And I went I know not whither； and I lived I know not how；
My glory had been banished；
For when I woke it vanished；
But I waited on it's coming； and I am waiting now。
'There！' said Robert； ending； 'can ye mak onything o' that； Miss St。
John？'
'I don't say I can in