donal grant-第78章

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came　instructions　as　to　the　forwarding　of　money；　Forgue　writing　and
his　father　signing。　Mr。　Graeme　replied；　excusing　himself　as　he
could；　but　sending　no　money。　They　wrote　again。　Again　he　excused
himself。　The　earl　threatened。　Mr。　Graeme　took　no　heed。　His　lordship
continued　to　demand　and　threaten；　but　neither　he　nor　his　son
appeared。　The　factor　at　length　wrote　that　he　would　pay　no　money　but
to　lady　Arctura。　The　earl　himself　wrote　in　reply；　sayinghad　he
been　out　of　the　country　that　he　did　not　know　she　was　dead　and　six
weeks　in　her　grave？　Again　the　factor　did　not　reply。

Donal　rode　back　to　Glashgar；　and　brought　Davie　home。　Lessons　were
resumed；　and　Arctura　took　her　full　share　in　them。

Soon　all　about　the　castle　was　bustle　and　labourmasons　and
carpenters　busy　from　morning　to　night。　The　wall　that　masked　the
windows　of　the　chapel　was　pulled　down；　the　windows；　of　stained
glass；　with　never　a　crack；　were　cleaned；　the　passage　under　them　was
opened　to　the　great　stair；　lady　Arctura　had　a　small　sweet…toned
organ　built　in　the　little　gallery；　and　the　mural　stair　from　her　own
room　opened　again；　that　she　might　go　down　when　she　pleased　to　play
on　itsometimes；　in　south…easterly　winds；　to　listen　to　the　aeolian
harp　dreaming　out　the　music　of　the　spheres。

In　the　process　of　removing　the　bed；　much　of　it　crumbled　to　dust。　The
carved　tester　and　back　were　set　up；　the　one　over　the　great
chimney…piece　in　the　hall；　the　other　over　that　in　Arctura's　room。
The　altar　was　replaced　where　the　bed　had　been。　The　story　of　the
finding　of　the　lost　chapel　was　written　by　Donal；　and　placed　by
Arctura　among　the　records　of　the　family。

But　it　soon　became　evident　that　what　she　had　passed　through　had
exercised　a　hurtful　influence　on　lady　Arctura's　health。　She　was
almost　always　happy；　but　her　strength　at　times　would　suddenly　desert
her。　Both　Donal　and　mistress　Brookes　regarded　her　with　some　anxiety。

Her　organ；　to　which　she　gave　more　labour　than　she　was　quite　equal
to；　was　now　one　of　her　main　delights。　Often　would　its　chords　be
heard　creeping　through　the　long　ducts　and　passages　of　the　castle：
either　for　a　small　instrument　its　tone　was　peculiarly　penetrating；
or　the　chapel　was　the　centre　of　the　system　of　the　house。　On　the　roof
would　Donal　often　sit　listening　to　the　sounds　that　rose　through　the
shaftairs　and　harmonies　freed　by　her　worshipping
fingersrejoicing　to　think　how　her　spirit　was　following　the　sounds；
guided　by　them　in　lovely　search　after　her　native　country。

One　day　she　went　on　playing　till　she　forgot　everything　but　her
music；　and　almost　unconsciously　began　to　sing　〃The　Lord　is　mindful
of　his　own。〃　She　was　unaware　that　she　had　two　listenersone　on　the
roof　above；　one　in　the　chapel　below。

When　twelve　months　were　come　and　gone　since　his　departure；　the　earl
one　bright　morning　approached　the　door　of　the　castle；　half　doubting；
half　believing　it　his　own：　he　was　determined　on　dismissing　the
factor　after　rigorous　examination　of　his　accounts；　and　he　wanted　to
see　Davie。　He　had　driven　to　the　stables；　and　thence　walked　out　on
the　uppermost　terrace；　passing　the　chapel　without　observing　its
unmasked　windows。　The　great　door　was　standing　open：　he　went　in；　and
up　the　stair；　haunted　by　sounds　of　music　he　had　been　hearing　ever
since　he　stepped　on　the　terrace。

But　on　the　stair　was　a　door　he　had　never　seen！　Who　dared　make
changes　in　his　house？　The　thing　was　bewildering！　But　he　was
accustomed　to　be　bewildered。

He　opened　the　doorplainly　a　new　oneand　entered　a　gloomy　little
passage；　lighted　from　a　small　aperture　unfit　to　be　called　a　window。
The　under　side　of　the　bare　steps　of　a　narrow　stone　stair　were　above
his　head。　Had　he　or　had　he　not　ever　seen　the　place　before？　On　the
right　was　a　door。　He　went　to　it；　opened　it；　and　the　hitherto　muffled
music　burst　loud　on　his　ear。　He　started　back　in　dismal
apprehension：there　was　the　chapel；　wide　open　to　the　eye　of
day！clear　and　clean！gone　the　hideous　bed！　gone　the　damp　and　the
dust！　while　the　fresh　air　trembled　with　the　organ…breath　rushing　and
rippling　through　it；　and　setting　it　in　sweetest　turmoil！　He　had
never　had　such　a　peculiar　experience！　He　had　often　doubted　whether
things　were　or　were　not　projections　from　his　own　brain；　he　moved　and
acted　in　a　world　of　subdued　fact　and　enhanced　fiction；　he　knew　that
sometimes　he　could　not　tell　the　one　from　the　other；　but　never　had　he
had　the　apparently　real　and　the　actually　unreal　brought　so　much　face
to　face　with　each　other！　Everything　was　as　clear　to　his　eyes　as　in
their　prime　of　vision；　and　yet　there　could　be　no　reality　in　what　he
saw！

Ever　since　he　left　the　castle　he　had　been　greatly　uncertain　whether
the　things　that　seemed　to　have　taken　place　there；　had　really　taken
place。　He　got　himself　in　doubt　about　them　the　moment　he　failed　to
find　the　key　of　the　oak　door。　When　he　asked　himself　what　then　could
have　become　of　his　niece；　he　would　reply　that　doubtless　she　was　all
right：　she　did　not　want　to　marry　Forgue；　and　had　slipped　out　of　the
way：　she　had　never　cared　about　the　property！　To　have　their　own　will
was　all　women　cared　about！　Would　his　factor　otherwise　have　dared
such　liberties　with　him；　the　lady's　guardian？　He　had　not　yet
rendered　his　accounts；　or　yielded　his　stewardship。　When　she　died　the
property　would　be　his！　if　she　was　dead；　it　was　his！　She　would　never
have　dreamed　of　willing　it　away　from　him！　She　did　not　know　she
could：　how　should　she？　girls　never　thought　about　such　things！
Besides　she　would　not　have　the　heart：　he　had　loved　her　as　his　own
flesh　and　blood！

At　intervals；　nevertheless；　he　was　assailed；　at　times　overwhelmed；
by　the　partial　conviction　that　he　had　starved　her　to　death　in　the
chapel。　Then　he　was　tormented　as　with　all　the　furies　of　hell。　In　his
night　visions　he　would　see　her　lie　wasting；　hear　her　moaning；　and
crying　in　vain　for　help：　the　hardest　heart　is　yet　at　the　mercy　of　a
roused　imagination。　He　saw　her　body　in　its　progressive　stages　of
decay　as　the　weeks　passed；　and　longed　for　the　process　to　be　over；
that　he　might　go　back；　and　pretending　to　have　just　found　the　lost
room；　carry　it　away；　and　have　it　honourably　buried！　Should　he　take
it　for　granted　that　it　had　lain　there　for　centuries；　or　suggest　it
must　be　lady　Arcturathat　she　had　got　shut　up　there；　like　the　bride
in　the　chest？　If　he　could　but　find　an　old　spring　lock　to　put　on　the
door！　But　people　were　so　plaguy　sharp　nowadays！　They　found　out
everything！he　could　not　afford　to　have　everything　found　out！God
himself　must　not　be　allowed　to　know　everything！

He　stood　staring。　As　he　stood　and　stared；　his　mind　began　to　change：
perhaps；　after　all；　what　he　saw；　might　be！　The　whole　thing　it　had
displaced　must　then　be　a　fancya　creation　of　the　dreaming　brain！
God　in　heaven！　if　it　could　but　be　proven　that　he　had　never　done　it！
All　the　other　wicked　things　he　wasor　supposed　himself　guilty
ofsome　of　them　so　heavy　that　it　had　never　seemed　of　the　smallest
use　to　repent　of　themall　the　rest　might　be　forgiven　him！But　what
difference　would　that　make　to　the　fact　that　he　had　done　them？　He
could　never　take　his　place　as　a　gentleman　where　all　was　known！　They
made　such　a　fuss　about　a　sin　or　two；　that　a　man　went　and　did　worse
out　of　pure　despair！

But　if　he　had　never　murdered　anybody！　In　that　case　he　could　almost
consent　there　should　be　a　God！　he　could　almost　even　thank　him！For
what！　That　he　was　not　to　be　damned　for　the　thing　he　had　not　donea
thing　he　had　had　the　misfortune　to　dream　he　had　doneGod　never
interfering　to　protect　him　from　the　horrible　fancy？　What　was　the
good　of　a　God　that　would　not　do　that　much　for　youthat　left　his
creatures　to　make　fools　of　themselves；　and　only　laughed　at
them！Bah！　There　was　life　in　the　old　dog　yet！　If　only　he　knew　the
thing　for　a　fancy！

The　music　ceased；　and　the　silence　was　a　shock　to　him。　Again　he　began
to　stare　about　him。　He　looked　up。　Before　him　in　the　air　hovered　the
pale　face　of　the　girl　he　hador　had　not　murdered！　It　was　one　of　his
visionsbut　not　therefore　more　unreal　than　any　other　appearance：
she　came　from　the　world　of　his　imaginationso　real　to　him　that　in
expectant　moods　it　was　the　world　into　which　he　was　to　step　the
moment　he　left　the　body。　She　looked　sweetly　at　him！　She　was　come　to
forgive　his　sins！　Was　it　then　true？　Was　there　no　sin　of　murder　on
his　soul？　Was　she　there　to　assure　him　that　he　might　yet　hope　for　the
world　to　come？　He　stretched　out　his　arms　to　her。　She　turned　away。　He
thought　she　had　vanished。　The　next　moment　she　was　in　the　chapel；　but
he　did　not　hear　her；　and　stood　gazing　up。　She　threw　her　arms　around
him。　The　contact　of　the　material　startled　him　with　such　a　revulsion；
that　he　uttered　a　cry；　staggered　back；　and　stood　looking　at　her　in
worse　perplexity　still。　He　had　done　the　awful　thing；　yet　had　not
done　it！　He　stood　as　one　bound　to　know　the　thing　that　could　not　be。

〃Don't　be　frightened；　uncle；〃　said　Arctura。　〃I　am　not　dead。　The
sepulchre　is　the　only　resurrection…house！　Uncle；　uncle！　thank　God
with　me。〃

The　earl　stood　motionless。　Strange　thoughts　passed　through　him　at
their　will。　Had　her　presence　dispelled　darkness　and　death；　and
restored　the　lost　chapel　to　the　light　of　day？　Had　she　haunted　it
ever　since；　dead　yet　alive；　watching　for　his　return　to　pardon　him？
Would　his　wife　so　receive　him　at　the　last　with　forgiveness　and
endearment？　His　eyes　were　fixed　upon　her。　His　lips　moved　tremulously
once　or　twice；　but　no　word　came。　He　turned　from　her；　glanced　round
the　place；　and　said；

〃It　is　a　great　improvement！〃

I　wonder　how　it　would　be　with　souls　if　they　waked　up　and　found　all
their　sins　but　hideous　dreams！　How　many　would　loathe　the　sin？　How
many　would　remain　capable　of　doing　all　again？　But　few；　perhaps　no
burdened　souls　can　have　any　idea　of　the　power　that　lies　in　God's
forgiveness　to　relieve　their　consciousness　of　defilement。　Those　who
say；　〃Even　God　cannot　destroy　the　fact！〃　care　more　about　their　own
cursed　shame　than　their　Father's　blessed　truth！　Such　will　rather
excuse　than　confess。　When　a　man　heartily　confesses；　leaving　excuse
to　God；　the　truth　makes　him　free；　he　knows　that　the　evil　has　gone
from　him；　as　a　man　knows　that　he　is　cured　of　his　plague。

〃I　did　the　thing；〃　he　says；　〃but　I　could　not　do　it　now。　I　am　the
same；　yet　not　the　same。　I　confess；　I　would　not　hide　it；　but　I　loathe
itten　times　the　more　that　the　evil　thing　was　mine。〃

Had　the　earl　been　able　to　say　thus；　he　would　have　felt　his　soul　a
cleansed　chapel；　new…opened　to　the　light　and　air；nay；　bettera
fresh…watered　garden；　in　which　the　fruits　of　the　spirit　had　begun　to
grow！　God's　forgiveness　is　as　the　burst　of　a　spring　morning　into　the
heart　of　winter。　His　autumn　is　the　paying　of　the　uttermost　farthing。
To　let　us　go　without　that　would　be　the　pardon　of　a　demon；　not　the
forgiveness　of　the　eternally　loving　God。　ButNot　yet；　alas；　not
yet！　has　to　be　said　over　so　many　souls！

Arctura　was　struck　dumb。　She　turned　and　walked　out　upon　the　great
stair；　her　uncle　following　her。　All　the　way　up　to　the　second　floor
she　felt　as　if　he　were　about　to　stab　her　in　the　back；　but　she　would
not　look　behind　her。　She　went　straight　to　her　room；　and　heard　her
uncle　go　on　to　his。　She　rang　her　bell；　sent　for　Donal；　and　told　him
what　had　passed。

〃I　will　go　to　him；〃　said　Donal。

Arctura　said　nothing　more；