 Chapter 65 of David Elgin-Brod This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. David Elgin-Brod by George McDonald Chapter 65 Victory O my admired mistress, quench not out the holy fires within you, though temptations shower down upon you, clasp thine armor on, fight well, and thou shalt see, after these wars, thy head wears sunbeams, and thy feet touch stars. Massanger, the Virgin Martyr But you could sleep no more than if he had been out with Falconer. He was as restless as a wild beast in a cage. Something would not let him be at peace, so he rose, dressed, and went out. As soon as he turned the corner, he could see Mrs. Elton's house. It was visible both by intermittent moonlight above and by flickering gaslight below, for the wind blew rather strong. There was snow in the air, he knew. The light they had observed last night was burning now. A moment served to make these observations, and then Hugh's eyes were arrested by the sight of something else, a man walking up and down the pavement in front of Mrs. Elton's house. He instantly stepped into the shadow of a porch to watch him. The figure might be the Count's, it might not, he could not be sure. Every now and then the man looked up to the windows. At length he stopped right under the lighted one and looked up. Hugh was on the point of gliding out that he might get as near him as possible before rushing on him, when at the moment, to his great mortification, a policeman emerged from some mysterious corner, and the figure instantly vanished in another. Hugh did not pursue him, because it would be to set all on a single chance and not a poor one, for if the Count, should it be he, succeeded in escaping, he would not return to a spot which he knew to be watched. Hugh therefore withdrew once more under a porch and waited. But whatever might be the cause, the man made his appearance no more. Hugh contrived to keep watch for two hours in spite of suspicious policemen. He slept late into the following morning. Calling at Mrs. Elton's, he learned that the Count had not been there, that Ms. Cameron had been very ill all night, but that she was rather better since the morning. That night, as the proceeding, Margaret had awaked suddenly. Euphra was nodding the bed beside her. She started up in an agony of terror, but it was soon elade, though not removed. She saw Euphra on her knees at the foot of the bed, an old-fashioned four-post one. She had her arms twined round one of the bed posts, and her head thrown back, as if someone were pulling her backwards by the hair, which fell over her nightdress to the floor in the thick black masses. Her eyes were closed, her face was death-like, almost livid, and the cold doos of torture were rolling down from brew to chin. Her lips were moving convulsively, with now and then the appearance of an attempt at articulation, as if they were set in motion by an agony of inward prayer. Margaret, unable to move, watched her with anxious sympathy and fearful expectation. How long this lasted, she could not tell, but it seemed a long time. At length Margaret rose, and longing to have some share in the struggle, however small, went softly and stood behind her, shadowing her from a feeble ray of moonlight, which, through a wind-rent cloud, had stolen into the room and lay upon her upturned face. There she lifted up her heart in prayer. In a moment after, the tension of Euphra's countenance relaxed a little. The composer slowly followed. Her head gradually rose, so that Margaret could see her face no longer, then as gradually drooped forward. Next her arms untwined themselves from the bedpost, and her hands clasped themselves together. She looked like one praying in the intense silence of absorbing devotion. Margaret stood still as a statue. In speaking about it afterwards to Hugh, Margaret told him that she distinctly remembered hearing. While she stood, the measured steps of a policeman passed the house on the pavement below. In a few minutes, Euphra bowed her head yet lower, and then rose to her feet. She turned round towards Margaret as if she knew she was there. To Margaret's astonishment, her eyes were wide open. She smiled the most childlike, peaceful, happy smile, and said, It is over, Margaret, all over at last. Thank you with my whole heart. God has helped me. At that moment the moon shone out full, and her face appeared in its light like the face of an angel. Margaret looked on her with awe. Fear, distress, and doubt had vanished, and she was already beautiful like the Blessed. Margaret got a handkerchief, and wiped the cold damps from her face. Then she helped her into bed, where she fell asleep almost instantly, and slept like a child. Now and then she moaned, but when Margaret looked at her, she saw the smile still upon her countenance. She woke weak and worn, but happy. I shall not trouble you today, Margaret, dear, said she. I shall not get up yet, but you will not need to watch me. A great change has passed upon me. I am free. I have overcome him. He may do as he pleases now. I do not care. I defy him. I got up last night in my sleep, but I remember all about it, and although I was asleep and felt powerless like a corpse, I resisted him even when I thought he was dragging me away by bodily force, and I resisted him till he left me alone. Thank God. It had been a terrible struggle, but she had overcome. Nor was this all. She would no more lead two lives, the waking and the sleeping. Her waking will and conscience had asserted themselves in her sleeping acts, and the memory of the somnambulous lives still in the waking woman. Hence her two lives were blended into one life, and she was no more two, but one. This indicated a mighty growth of individual being. I woke without terror, she went on to say. I always used to wake from such a sleep and an agony of unknown fear. I do not think I shall ever walk in my sleep again. It's not salvation the uniting of all our nature into one harmonious whole. God first and us, ourselves last, and all in due order between. Something very much analogous to the change in euphoria takes place in a man when he first learns that his beliefs must become acts, that his religious life and his human life are one, that he must do the thing that he admires. The ideal is the only absolute real, and it must become the real in the individual life as well, however impossible they may count it who never try it, or who do not trust in God to affect it when they find themselves baffled in the attempt. In the afternoon, Euphra fell asleep, and when she woke, seemed better. She said to Margaret, Can it be that it was all a dream, Margaret? I mean my association with that dreadful man. I feel as if it were only some horrid dream, and that I could never have had anything to do with him. I may have been out of my mind, you know, and have told you things which I believed firmly enough then, but which never really took place. It could not have been me, Margaret, could it? Not your real true best self, dear. I have been a dreadful creature, Margaret, but I feel that all that has melted away from me, and gone behind the sunset which will forever stand in all its glory and loveliness between me and it, an impassable rampart of defense. Her words sounded strange and excited, but her eyes and her pulse were calm. How could he ever have had that hateful power over me? Don't think any more about him, dear, but enjoy the rest God has given you. I will, I will. At that moment a maid came to the door with Funkelstein's card for Miss Cameron. Very well, said Margaret, ask him to wait. I will tell Miss Cameron. She may wish to send him a message, you may go. She told Euphra that the count was in the house. Euphra said no surprise, no fear, no annoyance. Will you see him for me, Margaret, if you don't mind, and tell him from me that I defy him, that I do not hate him only because I despise and forget him, that I challenge him to do his worst. She had forgotten all about the ring, but Margaret had not. I will, said she, and left the room. On her way down she went into the drawing room and rang the bell. Send Mr. Irwin to me here, please. It is for Miss Cameron. The man went but presently returned saying that the butler had just stepped out. Very well, you will do just as well. When the gentleman leaves who is calling now you must follow him. Take a cab if necessary and follow him everywhere till you find where he stops for the night. Watch the place and send me word where you are, but don't let him know. Put on plain clothes, please, as fast as you can. Yes, Miss, directly. The servants all called Margaret Miss. She lingered yet a little to give the man time. She was not at all satisfied with her plan, but she could think of nothing better. Happily it was not necessary. Irwin had run as fast as his old legs would carry him to the golden staff. He received the news with delight. His heart seemed to leap into his throat and he felt just as he did when, deer stalking for the first time, he tried to take aim at a great red stag. I shall wait for him outside the door. We must have no noise in the house. He is a thief or worse, Irwin. Good gracious, and there is the plate all laid out for dinner on the sideboard, exclaimed Irwin, and hurried off faster than he had come. But he was standing at the door long before Irwin got up to it. Had Margaret known who was watching outside, it would have been a wonderful relief to her. She entered the dining room where the count stood impatient. He advanced quickly, acting on his expectation of Yupra, but seeing his mistake stopped him bad politely. Margaret told him that Miss Cameron was ill and gave him her message, word for word. The count turned pale with mortification and rage. He bit his lip and made no reply and walked out into the hall where Irwin stood with the handle of the door in his hand, impatient to open it. No sooner was he out of the house than he used spraying upon him, but the count, who had been perfectly upon his guard, eluded him and darted off down the street. Hugh pursued at full speed, mortified at his escape. He had no fear at first of overtaking him, for he had found few men his equals in speed and endurance, but he soon saw to his dismay that the count was increasing the distance between them and feared that by a sudden turn into some labyrinth he might escape him altogether. They passed the golden staff at full speed, and at the next corner Hugh discovered what gave the count the advantage. It was his agility and recklessness in turning corners, but like the sorcerer's impunity they failed him at last, for at the next turn he ran full upon Falconer, who staggered back while the count reeled and fell. Hugh was upon him in a moment. Help! roared the count for a last chance from the sympathies of a gathering crowd. I've got him, cried Hugh. Let the man alone, growled a burly fellow in the crowd with his fists clenched in his trouser pockets. Let me have a look at him, said Falconer, stooping over him. Ah, I don't know him. That's as well for him. Let him up, Sutherland. The bystanders took Falconer for a detective and did not seem inclined to interfere, all except the car man before mentioned. He came up, pushing the crowd right and left. The man alone, said he in a very offensive tone. I assure you, said Falconer, he's not worth your trouble for— none of your cursed jaw, said the fellow in a louder and deeper growl, approaching Falconer with a threatening mean. Well, I can't help it, said Falconer, as if to himself. Sutherland, look after the count. That I will, said Hugh confidently. Falconer turned on the car man, who was just on the point of closing with him, preferring that mode of fighting and saying only, Defend yourself, retreated a step. The man was good at his fists too, and having failed in his first attempt made the best use of them he could. But he had no chance with Falconer, whose coolness equaled his skill. Meantime, the Bohemian had been watching his chance, and although the contest certainly did not last longer than one minute, found opportunity in the middle of it to wrench himself free from Hugh, trip him up and dart off. The crowd gave way before him. He vanished so suddenly and completely that it was evident he must have studied the neighborhood from the retreat side of the question. With a rat-like instinct, he had consulted the holes and corners in anticipation of the necessity of applying to them. Hugh got up and directed, or possibly misdirected by the bystanders, sped away in pursuit, but he could hear or see nothing of the fugitive. At the end of the minute, the car man lay in the road. Look after him, somebody, said Falconer. No fear of him, sir, he's used to it, answered one of the bystanders, with the respect which Falconer's prowess claimed. Falconer walked after Hugh, who soon returned, looking excessively mortified and feeling very small indeed. Nevermind Sutherland, said he. The fellow was up to a trick or two, but we shall catch him yet, if it hadn't been for that big fool there. But he's punished enough. But what can we do next? He will not come here again. Very likely not. Still, he may not give up his attempts upon Miss Cameron. I almost wonder, seeing she is so impressable, that she can give no account of his whereabouts. But I presume clairvoyance depends on the presence of other qualifications as well. I should like to mesmerize her myself and see whether she could not help us then. Well, why not, if you have the power? Because I have made up my mind not to super-induce any condition of whose laws I am so very partially informed. Besides, I considered a condition of disease in which, as by sleeplessness, for instance, the senses of the soul, if you will, allow the expression R for its present state rendered unnaturally acute. To induce such a condition, I dare not exercise a power which itself I do not understand. Chapter 65 Chapter 66 of David Elginbrod This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. David Elginbrod by George McDonald Chapter 66 Margaret For though that ever virtuous was she, she was increased in such excellence of thew is good, yes, in high bonte, and so discreet and fair of eloquence, so benign and so dignified of reverence, and kuthe, so the people's hurt embrace, that each her loveth that looketh in her face. Chaucer, the clerk's tale. She returned to Mrs. Elton's, and in the dining room wrote a note to Euphra to express his disappointment and shame that, after all, the count had foiled him. But at the same time is the termination not to abandon the quest, till there was no room for help left. He sent this up to her and waited, thinking that she might be on the sofa and might send for him. A little weary from the reaction of the excitement he had just gone through, he sat down in the corner farthest from the door. The large room was dimly lighted by one untrimmed lamp. He sat for some time thinking that Euphra was riding him a note, or perhaps preparing herself to see him in her room. Involuntarily he looked up, and a sudden pang as that the vision of the disembodied shot through his heart. A dim form stood in the middle of the room, gazing earnestly at him. He saw the same face which he had seen for a moment in the library at Arnstead, the glorified face of Margaret Elginbrod, shimmering faintly in the dull light. Instinctively he pressed his hands together, palm to palm, as if he had been about to kneel before Madonna herself. The light mingled with hope, and tempered by shame flushed his face. Ghost or none she brought no fear with her, only awe. She stood still. Margaret, he said with trembling voice. Mr. Sutherland, she responded sweetly. Are you a ghost, Margaret? She smiled as if she were all spirit, and advancing slowly took his joined hands in both of hers. Forgive me, Margaret, sighed he, as if with his last breath and burst into an agony of tears. She waited motionless till his passion should subside, still holding his hands. He felt that her hands were so good. He is dead, said Hugh at last with an effort, followed by a fresh outburst of weeping. Yes, he is dead, rejoined Margaret calmly. You would not weep so if you had seen him die as I did, die with a smile like the summer sunset. Indeed it was the sunset to me, but the moon has been up for a long time now. She sighed a gentle painless sigh and smiled again like a saint. She spoke nearly as scotch as ever in tone, though the words and pronunciation were almost pure English. This slaps into so much of the old form, or rather garment, of speech, constantly recurred as often as her feelings were moved, and especially when she talked to children. Forgive me, said Hugh once more. We are the same as in the old days, answered Margaret, and Hugh was satisfied. How do you come to be here, said Hugh at last after a silence? I will tell you all about that another time. Now I must give you Miss Cameron's message. She is very sorry she cannot see you, but she is quite unable. Indeed she is not out of bed. But if you could call tomorrow morning, she hopes to be better and to be able to see you. She says she can never thank you enough. The lamp burned yet fainter. Margaret went and proceeded to trim it. The virgins that arose must have looked very lovely trimming their lamps. It is indeed very fair and womanly, the best forewoman to make the lamp burn. The light shone up in her face, and the hands removing the globe handled it delicately. She saw that the good hands were very beautiful hands, not small but admirably shaped and very pure, as she replaced the globe. That man, she said, will not trouble her anymore. I hope not, said Hugh, but you speak confidently. Why? Because she has behaved gloriously. She has fought and conquered him on his own ground, and she is a free and beautiful and good creature of God forever. Will you delight me, rejoined Hugh? Another time perhaps you will be able to tell me all about it. I hope so. I think she will not mind my telling you. They bid each other good night, and he went away with a strange feeling, which he had never experienced before. To compare great things with small, it was something like what he had once felt in a dream in which, digging in his father's garden, he had found a perfect marble statue, and yet old as the hills. To think of the girl he had first seen in the drawing room at Turry Puffet, idealizing herself into such a creature as that, so grand, and yet so womanly, so lofty, and yet so lovely, so strong, and yet so graceful. Would that every woman believed in the ideal of herself and hoped for it as the will of God, not merely as the goal of her own purest ambition? But even if the lower development of the hope were all she possessed, it would yet be well, for its inevitable failure would soon develop the higher in triumphant hope. He thought about her till he fell asleep, and dreamed about her till he woke. Not for a moment, however, did he fancy he was in love with her. The feeling was different from any he had hitherto recognized as embodying that passion. It was the recognition and consequent admiration of a beauty which everyone who beheld it must recognize and admire. But mingled, in his case, with old and precious memories, doubly dear now in the increased earnestness of his nature and aspirations, and with a deep personal interest from the fact that, however little, he had yet contributed a portion of the vital food whereby the gracious creature had become what she was. In the so-called morning he went to Mrs. Elton's. Euphor was expecting his visit, and he was shown up into her room, where she was lying on the couch by the fire. She received him with the warmth of gratitude added to that of friendship. Her face was pale and thin, but her eyes were brilliant. She did not appear at first sight to be very ill, but the depth and reality of her sickness grew upon him. Behind her couch stood Margaret, like a guardian angel. Margaret could bear the day for she belonged to it, and therefore she looked more beautiful still than by the lamp-light. Euphor held out a pale little hand to Hugh, and before she withdrew it, let's use towards Margaret. Their hands joined. How different to Hugh was the touch of the two hands, life, strength, persistency in the one, languor, feebleness, and fading in the other. I can never thank you enough, said Euphor. Therefore I will not try. It is no bondage to remain your debtor. That would be thanks indeed if I had done anything. I have found out another mystery, Euphor resumed after a pause. I am sorry to hear it, answered he. I fear there will be no mysteries left by and by. No fear of that, she rejoined, so long as the angels come down to men, and she turned towards Margaret as she spoke. Margaret smiled. In the compliment she felt only the kindness. Hugh looked at her. She turned away and found something to do at the other side of the room. What mystery, then, have you destroyed? Not destroyed it, for the mystery of courage remains. I was the wicked ghost that night in the ghost's walk, you know, the white one. There is the good ghost, the nun, the black one. Who? Margaret? Yes, indeed. She has just been confessing it to me. I had my two angels, as one whose fate was undetermined. My evil angel in the count, my good angel in Margaret. Little did I think then that the holy powers were watching me in her. I knew the evil one. I knew nothing of the good. I suppose it is so with the great many people. Hugh sat silent in astonishment. Margaret then had been at Arnstead with Mrs. Alton all the time. It was herself he had seen in the study. Did you suspect me, Margaret? Resumed you for turning towards her where she sat at the window. Not in the least. I only knew that something was wrong about the house, that some being was terrifying the servants and poor Harry, and I resolved to do my best to meet it, especially if it should be anything of a ghostly kind. Then you do believe in such appearances, said Hugh. I have never met anything of the sort yet. I don't know. And you were not afraid? Not much. I am never really afraid of anything. Why should I be? No justification of fear was suggested either by Hugh or by Euphra. They felt the dignity of nature that lifted Margaret above the region of fear. Come and see me again soon, said Euphra as Hugh rose to go. He promised. Next day he dined by invitation with Mrs. Elton and Harry. Euphra was unable to see him, but sent a kind message by Margaret as he was taking his leave. He had been fearing that he should not see Margaret, and when she did appear, he was the more delighted, but the interview was necessarily short. He called the next day and saw neither Euphra nor Margaret. She was no better. Mrs. Elton said the physicians could discover no definite disease, either of the lungs or of any other organ. Yet life seemed sinking. Margaret thought that the conflict which she had passed through had exhausted her vitality. That had she yielded, she might have lived a slave, but that now perhaps she must die a free woman. Her continued illness made Hugh still more anxious to find the ring, for he knew it would please her much. Falconer would have applied to the police, but he feared that the man would vanish from London upon the least suspicion that he was watched. They held many consultations on the subject. Chapter 66 Chapter 67 of David Elginbrod This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. David Elginbrod by George MacDonald. Chapter 67 A New Guide Thus thinking is nor unthrown disfuelings. An erstavenis fulin. I'm bless grannis. Suakes liven. Thinking is only a dream of feeling. A dead feeling. A pale gray feeble life. Novalis. Dirlinge susais. For where's no courage, there's no roost normon. Fairy Queen. 6, 7, 18. One morning, as soon as she waked, Hugh first said, Have I been still all the night, Margaret? Quite still. Why do you ask? Because I have had such a strange and vivid dream that I feel as if I must have been to the place. It was a foolish question, though, because, of course, you would not have let me go. I hope it did not trouble you much. No, not much. For though I was with the Count, I did not seem to be there in the body at all, only somehow near him and seeing him. I can recall the place perfectly. Do you think it really was the place he was in at the time? I should not wonder. But now I feel so free, so far beyond him all his power that I don't mind where or when I see him. He cannot hurt me now. Could you describe the place to Mr. Sutherland? It might help him to find the Count. That's a good idea. Will you send for him? Yes, certainly. May I tell him for what? By all means. Margaret wrote to Hugh at once and sent the note by hand. He was at home when it arrived. He hurriedly answered it and went to find Falconer. To his delight he was at home, not out of bed in fact. Read that. Who is it from? Miss Cameron's maid. It does not look like a maid's production. It is though. Will you come with me? You know London ten thousand times better than I do. I don't think we ought to lose a chance. Certainly not. I will go with you, but perhaps you will not see me. Oh yes, she will, when I have told her about you. It will be rather a trial to see a stranger. A man cannot be a stranger with you ten minutes if he only looks at you. Still less a woman. Falconer looked pleased and smiled. I am glad you think so. Let us go. When they arrived, Margaret came to them. Hugh told her that Falconer was his best friend and one who knew London perhaps better than any other man in it. Margaret looked at him full in the face for a moment. Falconer smiled at the intensity of her still gaze. Margaret returned the smile and said, I will ask Miss Cameron to see you. Thank you, was all Falconer's reply, but the tone was more than speech. After a little while they were shown up to you for his room. She had wanted to sit up, but Margaret would not let her, so she was lying on her couch. When Falconer was presented to her, he took her hand and held it for a moment. The kind of indescribable beam broke over his face, as if his spirit smiled and the smile shown through without moving one of its features as it passed. The tears stood in his eyes. To understand all this look, one would need to know his history as I do. He laid her hand gently on her bosom and said, God bless you. Euphra felt that God did bless her in the very words. She had been looking at Falconer all the time. It was only 15 seconds or so, but the outcome of a life was, crowd into Falconer's side of it, and the confidence of Euphra rose to meet the faithfulness of a man of God. What words those are? A man of God. Have I not written a revelation? Yes, to him who can read it, yes. I know enough of your story Miss Cameron, he said, to understand without any preface what you choose to tell me. Euphra began at once. I dreamed last night that I found myself outside the street door. I did not know where I was going, but my feet seemed to know. They carried me around two or three corners into a wide, long street, which I think was Oxford Street. They carried me on into London, far beyond any quarter I knew. All I can tell further is that I turned to the left, beside a church, the steeple of which stood what I took for a wandering ghost just slided there. Only I ought to tell you that frequently in my dreams, always in my peculiar dreams, the more material and solid and ordinary things are, the more thin and ghostly they appear to me. Then I went on and on, turning left and right too many times for me to remember, till at last I came to a little old-fashioned court with two or three trees in it. I had to go up a few steps to enter it. I was afraid because I knew I was dreaming and that my body was not there. It is a great relief to feel that sometimes, for it is often very much in the way. I opened the door upon which the moon shone very bright and walked up two flights of stairs into a back room, and there I found him doing something at a table by candlelight. He had a sheet of paper before him, but what he was doing with it I could not see. I tried hard, but it was of no use. The dream suddenly faded and I awoke and found Margaret. Then I knew I was safe. She added with a loving glance at her maid. Falconer Rose. I know the place you mean perfectly. It is too peculiar to be mistaken. Last night, let me see, how did the moon shine? Yes, I shall be able to tell you the very door, I think, or almost. How kind of you not to laugh at me. I might make a fool of myself if I laughed at anyone, so I generally avoid it. We may as well get the good out of what we do not understand or at least try if there be any in it. Will you come, Sutherland? He rose and took his leave with Falconer. How pleased she seemed with you, Falconer, said he as they left the house. Yes, she touched me. Won't you go and see her again? No, there is no need, except she sends for me. It would please her, comfort her, I am sure. She has got one of God's angels beside her, Sutherland. She doesn't want me. What do you mean? I mean that maid of hers. A pang of jealousy, was it? Shot through Hugh's heart. How could he see? What right had he to see anything in Margaret? He might have kept himself at peace even if he had loved Margaret as much as she deserved, which would have been about ten times as much as he did. Is a man not to recognize an angel when he sees her and to call her by her name? Had Hugh seen into the core of that grand heart what form sat there and how? He would have been at peace. Would almost have fallen down to do the man homage. He was silent. My dear fellow, said Falconer as if he had divined his feeling. For Falconer's power over men and women came all from sympathy with their spirits and not their nerves. If you have any hold of that woman, do not lose it, for as sure as there is a man she is one of the winged ones. Don't I know a woman when I see her? He sighed with a kind of involuntary sigh which yet did not seek to hide itself from Hugh. My dear boy, he added, laying a stress on the word. I am nearly twice your age. Don't be jealous of me. Mr. Falconer, said Hugh humbly. Forgive me. The feeling was involuntary and if you have detected in it more than I was aware of you are at least as likely to be right as I am. But you cannot think more highly of Margaret than I do. And yet Hugh did not know half the good of her then that the reader does now. Well, we had better part now and meet again at night. What time shall I come to you? Oh, about nine, I think we'll do. So Hugh went home and tried to turn his thoughts to his story, but you, for a Falconer, Funkelstein and Margaret persisted in sitting to him, the one after the other, instead of the heroes and heroines of his tale. He was compelled to lay aside and to take himself to a stroll and a pipe. As he went downstairs, he met Miss Talbot. You're soon tired of home, Mr. Sutherland. You haven't been in above half an hour and you're out again already. While you see Miss Talbot, I want a pipe very much. Well, you ain't going to the public house to smoke it, are you? No, answered Hugh, laughing. But you know, Miss Talbot, you made it part of the agreement that I shouldn't smoke indoors, so I'm going to smoke in the street. Now, think of being taken that way, retorted Miss Talbot, with an injured air. Why, that was before I knew anything about you. Go upstairs directly and smoke your pipe and when the room can't hold anymore, you can open the windows. Your smoke won't do any harm, Mr. Sutherland, but I'm very sorry you quarreled with Mrs. Appleditch. She's a hard woman and over fond of her money in her drawing room, and for those boys of hers, the Lord have mercy on them, for she has none. But she's a true Christian for all that and does a power of good among the poor people. What does she give them, Miss Talbot? Oh, she gives them, hmm, tracks and things, you know, she added, perceiving the weakness of her position. People's souls should come first. And poor Mrs. Appleditch, you see, some folks is made stickier than others and their money sticks to them somehow, that they can't part with it, poor woman. To this hue had no answer at hand. For though Miss Talbot's logic was more than questionable, her charity was perfectly sound, and he felt that he had not been forbearing enough with the mother of the future pastors. So he went back to his room, lighted his pipe, and smoked till he fell asleep over a small volume of morbid modern divinity, which Miss Talbot had lent him. I do not mention the name of the book, lest some of my acquaintance should abuse me and others it more than either deserves. He, however, found the best refuge from the diseased self-consciousness which it endeavored to rouse, and which is a kind of spiritual sub-nambulism in an hour of God's good sleep, into a means of which the book was temporarily elevated. When he woke, he found himself greatly refreshed by the influence it had exercised upon him. It was now the hour for the daily pretense of going to Dine, so he went out. But all he had was some bread, which he ate as he walked about, loitering here and trifling there, passing five minutes over a volume in every bookstall in Holborn, and comparing the shapes of the Meers moms in every tobacconist window, time ambleds gently along with him, and it struck nine just as he found himself at Falconer's door. You are ready, then, said Falconer. Quite. Will you take anything before you go? I think we had better have some supper first. It is early for our project. This was a welcome proposal to you. Cold meat and ale were excellent preparedness for what might be required of him, for a tendency to collapse in a certain region, called by courtesy the chest, is not favorable to deeds of valor. By the time he had spent ten minutes in the discharge of the agreeable duty sedested, he felt himself ready for anything that might fall to his lot. The friends set out together, and under the guidance of the two foremost bumps upon Falconer's forehead, soon arrived at the place he judged to be that indicated by Euphra. It was very different from the place you had pictured to himself, yet in everything it corresponded to her description. Are we not grateful, Sutherland, to set out on such a chase with the dream of a sick girl for our only guide? I am sure you don't think so, else you would not have gone. I think we can afford the small risk to our reputation involved in the chase of this same wild goose. There is enough of strange testimony about things of the sort to justify us in attending to the hint. Besides, if we neglected it, it would be more defined to find out some day, perhaps a hundred years after this, that it was a true hint. It is altogether different from giving ourselves up to the pursuit of such things, but this ought to be the house. He added going up to one that had a rather more respectable look than the rest. He knocked at the door, an elderly woman half opened it and looked at them suspiciously. Will you take my card to the gentleman who is lodging with you and say I am happy to wait upon him? said Falconer. She glanced at him again and turned inwards, hesitating whether to leave the door half open or not. Falconer stood so close to it, however, that she was afraid to shut it in his face. Now, Sutherland, follow me, whispered Falconer, as soon as the woman had disappeared on the stair. He followed behind the moving tower of his friend who strode with long, noiseless strides that he took three steps at a time. They went up two flights and reached the top just as the woman was laying her hand on the lock of the back room door. She turned and faced them. Speak one word, said Falconer in a hissing whisper, and he completed the sentence by an awfully threatening gesture. She drew back in terror and yielded her place at the door. Come in, bawled someone in second answer to the knock she had already given. It is, he said to you, trembling with excitement. Hush, said Falconer, and went in. He followed. He knew the back of the count at once. He was seated at the table, apparently riding, but going nearer they saw that he was drawing. A single closer glance showed them the portrait of Euphra's growing under his hand. In order to intensify his will and concentrate it upon her, he was drawing her portrait from memory. But at the moment they caught sight of it, the wretch, aware of a hostile present, sprang to his feet and reached the chimney piece at one bound whence he caught up a sword. Take care, Falconer, cried Hugh. That weapon is poisoned. He is no everyday villain you have to deal with. He remembered the cat. Funkelstein made a sudden lunge at Hugh, his face pale with hatred and anger, but a blow from Falconer's huge fist traveling faster than the point of his weapon, stretched to the ground, such was Falconer's impetus that it hurled both him and the table across the fallen villain. Falconer was up in a moment, not so Funkelstein. There was plenty of time for Hugh to secure the rapier and for Falconer to secure its owner before he came to himself. Where's my ring? said Hugh, the moment he opened his eyes. Gentlemen, I protest, began Funkelstein in a voice upon which the cord that bound his eyes was heard. No chaff, said Falconer. We've got all our feathers. Hand over the two rings, or be the security for them yourself. What witness have you against me? The best of witnesses, Miss Cameron. And me, added Hugh. Gentlemen, I am very sorry. I yielded to temptation. I meant to restore the diamond after the joke had been played out, but I was forced to part with it. I am very sorry. I yielded to temptation. I played out, but I was forced to part with it. The joke is played out, you see, said Falconer. So you had better produce the other bobble you stole at the same time. I have not got it. Come, come, that's too much. Nobody would give you more than five shillings for it, and you knew what it was worth when you took it. Sutherland, you stand over him while I search the room. This portrait may as well be put out of the way first. As he spoke, Falconer tore the portrait and threw it into the fire. He then turned to a cupboard in the room. Whether it was that Funkelstein feared further revelations, I do not know, but he quelled. I have not got it, he repeated, however. You lie, answered Falconer. I would give it you if I could. You shall. The Bohemian looked contemptible enough now, despite the handsomeness of his features. It needed freedom and the absence of any urgency to enable him to personate a gentleman. Given those conditions he succeeded, but as soon as he was disturbed the gloss vanished and the true nature came out, that of a ruffian and a sneak. He quite quivered at the look with which Falconer turned again to the cupboard. Stop! he cried. Here it is. And muttering what sounded like curses he pulled out of his bosom the ring, from his neck. Sutherland, said Falconer, taking the ring. Secure that rapier and be careful with it. We will have its point tested. Meantime, here he turned again to his prisoner. I give you warning that the moment I leave this house I go to Scotland Yard. You know the place. I there recommend the police to look after you and they will mind what I say. If you leave London a message will be sent wherever you go and be watched. My advice to you is to stay where you are as long as you can. I shall meet you again. They left him on the floor to the care of his landlady whom they found outside the room speechless with terror. As soon as they were in the square on which the moon was now shining as it had shone in you for this dream the night before, Falconer gave the ring to Hugh. Take it to a jeweler's cell I will answered Hugh and added I don't know how to thank you then don't said Falconer with a smile. When they reached the end of the street he turned and made Hugh good night. Take care of that cowardly thing it may be as you say. Hugh turned towards home Falconer dived into a court and was out of sight in a moment. End Chapter 67 Chapter 68 of David Elgin Broad This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org David Elgin Broad by George MacDonald Chapter 68 The Last Grote Thou hast been as one in suffering all that suffers nothing A man that fortunes buffets and rewards has taken with equal thanks and blessed are those whose blood and judgment are so well commingled that they are not a pipe for fortunes finger to sound what stops she please. Hamlet Most friends befriend themselves with friendships show Southwell Hugh took the ring to Mrs. Elkins and gave it into Margaret's hand. She brought him back a message of warmest thanks from Euphra. She had asked for writing materials at once and was now communicating the good news to Mr. Arnold and Madeira. I have never seen her look so happy added Margaret. She hopes to be able to see you in the evening if you would not mind calling again. Hugh did call and saw her. She received him most kindly. He was distressed to see how altered she was. The fire of one life seemed to dine out flowing away and spending from her eyes which had illuminated with too much light as it passed out. But the fire of another life the immortal life which lies in thought and feeling in truth and love divine which death cannot touch because it is not of his kind was growing as fast. He sat with her for an hour and then went. This chapter of his own history concluded Hugh returned with fresh energy to his novel and worked at it as his invention gave him scope. There was the more necessity that he should make progress from the fact that having sent his mother the greater part of the salary he had received from Mr. Arnold he was now reduced to his last sovereign. Poverty looks rather ugly when she comes so close as this but she had not yet accosted him and with the sovereign in his pocket and last week's rent paid. A bachelor is certainly not poverty stricken at least when he is as independent not only of other people but of himself as Hugh was. Still without more money than that a man walks in fetters and is ready to forget that the various restraints he is under are not incompatible with most honorable freedom. So Hugh worked as hard as he could to finish his novel and succeeded within a week. Then the real anxiety began he carried it with much doubtful hope to one of the principal publishing houses. Had he been more selfishly wise he would have put it into the hands of Falconer to negotiate for him but he thought he had given him quite trouble enough already so he went without an introduction even the manuscript was received politely and attention was promised but a week passed and another and another. A human soul had a notion about the meat that perished and the manuscript lay all the time unread forgotten in the drawer. At length he reached his last coin he had no meal for several days except once that he dined at Mrs. Elkins but he would not borrow till absolutely compelled and six pence would keep him alive another day. In the morning he had some breakfast for he knew his books were worth enough to pay all he owed Miss Talbot and then he wandered out through the streets he paced and paced looking in at all the silversmiths and print sellers windows and solace in his poverty with a favorite amusement of his in uneasy circumstances an amusement cheap enough for a Scotsman reduced to his last six pence castle building this is not altogether a bad employment where hope has laid the foundation but it is rather a heartless one where the imagination has to draw the ground as well as the elevations the latter however was not quite his condition yet he returned at night carefully avoiding the cook shops and their kindred snares with the silver groat in his pocket still but he crawled upstairs rather feebly it must be confessed for a youth with limbs molded in the fashion of his he found a letter waiting him from a friend of his mother informing him that she was dangerously ill and urging him to set off immediately for home this was like the blast of fiery breath from the dragon's maw which overthrew the Red Cross night but into the well of life where all his wounds were healed and and well bored and lodging provided him gratis when he had read the letter he fell on his knees and said to his father in heaven what am I to do there was no lake with golden pieces in its bottom whence a fish might bring him a coin nor in all the wide London lay there one he could claim as his but the groat in his pocket he rose with the simple resolution to go and tell falconer he went he was not at home emboldened by necessity he left his card with the words on it come to me I need you he then returned packed a few necessaries and sat down to wait but he had not said five minutes before falconer entered what's the matter southerland my dear fellow you haven't pricked yourself with that skewer have you he handed him the letter with one hand and when he had read it held out the four penny piece in the other hand to be read likewise falconer understood it once southerland he said in a tone of reproof it is a shame of you to forget that men are brothers are not two who come out of the heart of God as closely related as if they had lain in the womb of one mother why did you not tell me you have suffered I am sure you have I have a little I am getting rather low in fact I haven't had quite enough to eat he said this to excuse the tears which falconer's kindness not hunger compelled from their cells but he added I have come to you as soon as the four pence was gone or at least if I hadn't got another before I was very hungry again could heavens exclaimed falconer half angrily then pulling out his watch we have two hours said he before a train starts from the north come to my place he rose and obeyed falconer's attendant soon brought them a plentiful supper from a neighboring shop after which falconer got out one of his bottles of port well known to his more intimate friends and he thought no more about money than if he had had his purse full if it had not been for anxiety about his mother he would have been happier than he had ever been in his life before for crossing in the night the wavering heaving morass of the world had he not set his foot upon one spot which did not shake the summit indeed of a mighty plutonic rock that went down widening away the very center of the earth as he sped along in the railway that night the prophecy of thousands of years came back a man shall be a hiding place from the wind a covert from the tempest the shadow of a great rock in a weary land and he thought it would be a blessed time indeed when this was just what a man was and then he thought of the son of man who by being such first was enabling all his friends to be such too of him Falconer had already learned this truth in the inward parts and had found in the process of learning it that this was the true nature which God had made his from the first no new thing super induced upon it he had had but to clear away the rubbish of worldliness which more or less buries the best natures for a time and so define himself after he had eaten and drunk and thus once more experienced the divinity that lay in food and wine he went to take leave of his friends at Mrs. Elton's like most invalids Euphra was better in the evening she requested to see him he found her in bed and much wasted since he saw her last he could not keep the tears from filling his eyes for all the events of that day had brought them near the surface do not cry dear friend she said sweetly there is no room for me here anymore and I am sent for you could not reply she went on I have written to Mr. Arnold about the ring and all you did to get it do you know he is going to marry Lady Emily still you could not answer Margaret stood on the other side of the bed the graceful embodiment of holy health and in his sorrow he could not help feeling the beauty of her presence her lovely hands were the servants of Euphra and her light firm feet moved only in ministration he felt that Euphra had room in the world while Margaret waited on her it is not house and fire and plenty of servants and all the things that money can procure that make a home not father or mother or friends but one heart which will not be weary of helping will not be offended with the petulance of sickness nor the ministrations needful the weakness entire affection cating nicer hands will make a home of a cave in a rock or a gypsy's tent this Euphra had in Margaret and he saw it I trust you will find your mother better you said Euphra I fear not answered he well Margaret has been teaching me and I think I have learned it that death is not at all such a dreadful thing as it looks it is easy for you Margaret who are so far from death's door but she told me that she had been all but dead once and that you had saved her life almost with your own oh Hugh she is such a dear Euphra smiled with ten times the fascination of any of her old smiles for the soul of the smile was loved I shall never see you again I dare say she went on my heart thanks you from its very depths for your goodness to me it has been a thousand times more than I deserve Hugh kissed in silence the wasted hand held out to him in adieu and departed and the world itself was a sad wandering star Falconer had called for him they drove to Miss Talbot's where Hugh got his bag of needmints and bade his landlady goodbye for a time Falconer then accompanied him to the railway having left him for a moment he was following him saying I have your ticket and put him into a first class carriage Hugh remonstrated Falconer replied I find this hulk of mine worth taking care of you will be twice the good to your mother if you reach her tolerably fresh he stood by the carriage door talking to him till the train started walked alongside till it was fairly in motion then bidding him goodbye left in his hand a little packet Hugh opening it by the light of the lamp found to consist of a few sovereigns and a few shillings folded up in a twenty pound note I ought to tell one other little fact however just before the engine whistled Falconer said to Hugh give me that four penny piece you brave old fellow there it is said Hugh what do you want it for I'm going to make a wedding present of it to your wife whoever she may happen to be I hope she will be worthy of it Hugh instantly thought within himself what a wife Margaret would make to Falconer the thought was followed by a pang keen and clear those who are in the habit of regarding the real and the ideal as essentially and therefore irreconcilably opposed will remark that I cannot have drawn the representation of Falconer faithfully perhaps the difficulty they will experience in recognizing its truthfulness may spring from the fact that they themselves are unideal enough to belong to the not small class of strong minded friends whose chief care in performing the part of the rock in the weary land is not to shelter you imprudently they are afraid of weakening your constitution by it especially if it is not strong to begin with so if they do just take off the edge of the tempest with the sharp corners of their shelter and rock for a moment the next they will thrust you out into the rain with a hearty and self-denying by being wet to the skin and well-blown about the rich easily learn the wisdom of Solomon but are unapped scholars of him who is greater than Solomon it is on the other hand so easy for the poor to help each other that they have little merit in it it is no virtue only a beauty but there are a few rich who rivaling the poor in their own peculiar excellences enter into the kingdom of heaven in spite of their riches and then find that by means of their riches they are made rulers over many cities she to whose memory this book is dedicated is I will not say was one of the noblest of such there are two ways of accounting for the difficulty which a reader may find in believing in such a character either that not being poor he has never needed such a friend or that being rich he has never been such a friend or if it be that being poor he has never found such a friend his difficulty is easy to remove I have End Chapter 68 Chapter 69 of David Elginbrod This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org David Elginbrod George McDonald Chapter 69 Death Think then my soul that death is but a groom which brings a taper to the outward room Winston spies first a little glimmering light and after brings it near to thy sight for such approaches death heaven make in death Dr. Dunn Hugh found his mother even worse than he had expected but she rallied a little after his arrival In the evening he wandered out in the bright moonlit snow how strange it was to see all the old forms with his heart so full of new things the same hills rose about him with all the lines of their shapes unchanged and seeming yet they were changing as surely as himself nay he continued more the same than they for in him the old forms were folded up in the new in the eyes of him who creates time there is no rest but a living sacred change a journey towards rest he alone rests and he alone in virtue of his rest creates change he thought with sadness how all the haunts of his childhood would pass to others who would feel no love or reverence for them that the house would be the same but sounding with new steps and ringing with new laughter a little further thought however soon satisfied him that places die as well as their dwellers that by slow degrees their forms are wiped out that the new tastes obliterate the old fashions and that air long the very shape of the house and farm would be lapped as it were about the tomb of him who had been the soul of the shape and would vanish from the face of the earth all the old things at home looked sad the luck came from this that though he could sympathize with them and their story they could not sympathize with him and he suffused them with his own sadness he could find no refuge in the past he must go on into the future his mother lingered for some time without any evident change he sat by her bedside the most of the day all she wanted was to have him within reach of her feeble voice that she might when she pleased draw him within touch of her feeble hand once she said my boy I am going to your father yes mother I think you are you replied how glad he will be to see you but I shall leave you alone mother I love God the mother looked at him as only a mother can look smiled sweetly closed her eyes as with the weight of her contentment fell asleep holding his hand and slept for hours meanwhile in London Margaret was watching Euphra she was dying and Margaret was the angel of life watching over her I shall get rid of my lameness there Margaret shall I not said Euphra one day half playfully yes dear it will be delightful to walk again perhaps you will not get rid of it all at once though why do you think so asked Euphra with some appearance of uneasiness because if it is taken from you before you are quite willing to have it as long as God pleases by and by you will not be able to rest till you have asked for it back again that you may bear it for his sake I am willing Margaret I am willing only one I can't like it you know I know that answered Margaret she spoke no more and Margaret heard her weeping gently half an hour had passed away when she looked up and said Margaret dear I begin to like my lameness I think why dear why just because God made it and bade me bear it may I not think it a mark on me from his hand I think so why do you think it came on me to walk back to him with dear yes yes I see it all until now Margaret had not known to what a degree the lameness of Euphra had troubled her that her pretty ankle should be deformed and her life foot able only to limp had been a source of real distress to her even in the midst of far deeper the days passed on and every day she grew weaker she did not suffer much but nothing seemed to do her good Mrs. Elton was kindness itself Harry was in dreadful distress he haunted her room creeping in whenever he had a chance and sitting in corners out of the way Euphra liked to have him near her she seldom spoke to him or to anyone but Margaret her Margaret alone could hear with ease what she said but now and then she would motion him to her bedside and say she was always the same Harry dear, be good I will, indeed I will dear Euphra was still Harry's reply once expressing to Margaret her regret that she should be such a trouble to her she said you have to do so much for me that I am ashamed do let me wash the feet of one of his disciples Margaret replied gently expostulating after which Euphra never grumbled at her own demands upon her again one day she said I am not riot at all today Margaret God can't love me I am so hateful don't measure God's mind by your own Euphra it would be a poor love that depended not on itself but on the feelings of the person loved a crying baby turns away from its mother's breast but she does not put it away till it stops crying she holds it closer for my part the most mood I am ever in when I don't feel I love God at all I just look up to his love I say to him look at me see what state I am in help me you would wonder how that makes peace and the love comes of itself sometimes so strong it nearly breaks my heart but there is a text I don't like take another then but it will keep coming give it back to God and never mind it but would that be right one day when I was a little girl so high I couldn't eat my porridge and sat looking at it eat your porridge said my mother I don't want it I answered there's nothing else for you said my mother for she had not learned so much from my father then as she did before he died hoots said my father no no don't no no don't I shall understand them perfectly hoots my woman said my father give the Baron a dish of tea would not you like some tea I would I said I the porridge is good enough said my mother they do it to boot the porridge woman it's the Baron's stomach it's no the porridge my mother said no more it was such nice tea for whenever she gave in she gave in quite I drank it and half from anxiety to please my mother half from reviving hunger attack the porridge next and ate it up look at that said my father Janet my woman give a body the good that they can take and they'll soon take the good that they cannot you're better knew Maggie Madhu I never told him that I had taken the porridge too soon after all he would and be sick but it is all the same for the story Euphra laughed a feeble but delighted laugh and applied the story for herself so the winter day is passed on I wish I could live till the spring said Euphra I should like to see a snow drop and a primrose again perhaps you will dear but you are going into a better spring I could almost envy you Euphra but shall we have spring there I think so and spring flowers I think we shall better than here but they will not mean so much then they won't be so good but I should think they would mean ever so much more and be ever so much more spring like they will be the spring flowers to all winters in one I think folded in the love of this woman anointed for her death by her wisdom baptized for the new life by her sympathy and its tears Euphra died in the arms of Margaret Margaret wept fell on her knees and gave God thanks Mrs. Elton was so distressed that as soon as the funeral was over she broke up her London household sending some of the servants home to the country and taking some of her favorite watering place to which Harry also accompanied her she hoped that the affair of the ring was cleared up she might as soon as Hugh returned succeed in persuading him to follow them to Devonshire and resume his tutorship this would satisfy her anxiety about Hugh and Harry both Hugh's mother died too and was buried when he returned from the grave which now held both father and mother he found a short note from Margaret telling him that Euphra was gone sorrow is easier to bear but he could not help feeling a keen additional pain when he learned that she was dead whom he had loved once and now loved better Margaret Snowde informed him likewise that Euphra had left a written request that her diamond ring should be given to him to wear for her sake he prepared to leave the home whence all the homelessness had now vanished except what indeed lingered in the presence of an old nurse who had remained faithful to his mother to the last himself is of little value after the spirit the love is out of it so the house and all the old things are little enough after the loved ones are gone who kept it alive and made it home all that Hugh could do for this old nurse was to furnish a cottage for her out of his mother's furniture giving her everything she liked best then he gathered the little household treasures the few books the few portraits and ornaments his father's sword and his mother's wedding ring destroyed with sacred fire all written papers sold the remainder of the furniture which he would gladly have burnt to and so proceeded to take his last departure from the home of his childhood and Chapter 69 Chapter 70 of David Elginbrod this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the the the the the the the the women are a lovely mystery veiled however, not shut up her twilight were more clear than our midday she dreamt the vowlier men used to pray Dr. Dunn perhaps the greatest benefit that resulted to Hugh from being thus made a pilgrim and a stranger in the earth was that nature herself saw him and took him in hitherto as I have already said Hugh's acquaintance with nature had been chiefly a secondhand one he knew friends of hers nature and poetry not in the form of Thompsonian or Calperian descriptions good as they are but closely interwoven with an expository of human thought and feeling had long been dear to him in this form he had believed that he knew her so well as to be able to reproduce the lineaments of her beloved face but now she herself appeared to him the grand pure tender mother ancient in years yet ever young appeared to him not in the mirror of a man's words but bending over him from the fathomless realm of the sky from the outspread arms of the forest trees from the silent judgment of the everlasting hills she spoke to him from the depths of air from the winds that harp upon the boughs and trumpet upon the great canvas and from the screams that sing as they go to be lost and rest she would have shown upon him out of the eyes of her infants the flowers but they had their faces turned to her breasts now hiding from the pale blue eyes in the burning breath of old winter who was looking for them with his face bent close to their refuge and he felt that she had a power to heal and to instruct yea that she was a power of life and could speak to the heart and conscience mighty words about God and truth and love for he did not forsake his dead home in haste he lingered over it and roamed about its neighborhood regarding all about him with quiet sense of spirit he was astonished to find how his eyes opened to see nature in the mass before he had beheld only portions and beauties when or how the change passed upon him he could not tell but he no longer looked for a pretty eyebrow or a lovely lip on the face of nature the soul of nature looked out upon him from the harmony of all guiding him unsought to the discovery of a thousand separate delights while from the expanded vision new meanings flashed upon him every day he beheld in the great all the expression of the thoughts and feelings of the maker of the heavens and the earth and the sea and the fountains of water the powers of the world to come that is the world of unseen truth and ideal reality were upon him in the presence of the world that now is for the first time in his life he felt at home with nature and while he could moan with the wintry wind he no longer sighed in the wintry sunshine that foretold like the far-off flutter of a herald's manner the approach of victorious lady spring with the sorrow and loneliness of loss within him and nature around him seeming to sigh for a fuller expression of the thought that throbbed within her it is no wonder that the form of Margaret the gathering of the thousand forms of nature into one intensity and harmony of loveliness should rise again upon the world of his imagination to set no more father and mother were gone Margaret remained behind nature lay around him like a shining disc that needed a visible center of intense light a shield of silver that needed but a diamond boss Margaret alone could be that center that diamond light giver for she alone of all the women he knew seemed so to drink of the sun's rays of God as to radiate them forth very fullness upon the clouded world she had dawned on him like a sweet crescent moon hanging far off in a cold and low horizon now lifting his eyes he saw that same moon nearly at the full and high overhead yet leaning down towards him through the deep blue air that overflowed with her calm triumph of light he knew that he loved her now he knew that every place he went through caught a glimmer of romance the moment he thought of her that every most trifling event that happened to himself looked like a piece of storybook the moment he thought of telling it to her but the growth of these feelings had been gradual so slow and gradual that when he recognized them it seemed to him as if he had felt them from the first the fact was that as soon as he began to be capable of loving Margaret he had begun to love her he had never been able to understand her until he was driven into the desert but now that nature revealed herself to him full of life, yea of the life of life namely of God himself it was natural that he should honor and love that lady of her own that he should recognize Margaret as greater than himself as near to the heart of nature yea of God the Father Law she had been one with nature from childhood and when he began nature too he must become one with her and now in absence he began to study the character of her whom in presence he had thought he knew perfectly he soon found that it was a manoa a golden city in a land of paradise too good to be believed in except by him who was blessed with the beholding of it he knew now that she had always understood what he was only just waking to recognize and he felt that the scholar had been very patient with the stupidity of the master and had drawn from his lessons a nourishment of which he had known nothing himself but dare he think of marrying her a creature inspired with the presence of the spirit of God which none but the saints enjoy and then disclosed with the garment of beauty which her spirits wove out of its own loveliness she was a being to glorify any man who had a spiritual presence what then if she gave her love she would bring with her the presence of God himself for she walked ever in his light and that light clung to her and radiated from her true many young maidens must be walking in the sunshine of God else whence the light and loveliness and bloom the smile and the laugh of their youth but Margaret not only walked in this light she knew it and then had illuminated her face the silent girl of old days whose countenance wore the stillness of an unsunned pool as she listened with reverence to his lessons had blossomed into the calm, stately woman before whose presence he felt rebuked he knew not why upon whose face lay slumbering thought ever ready to wake into life in motion dare he love her dare he so poor so worthless seek for himself such a world's treasure he might have known that worth does not need honor that its lowliness is content with describing it some of my readers may be inclined to think that I hide for the sake of my hero poor little hero one of God's children learning to walk an inevitable struggle between his love and his pride in as much as being but a tutor he might be expected to think the more of his good family and the possibility of his one day coming to honor without the drawback of having done anything to merit it, a title being almost within his grasp while Margaret was a plowman's daughter and a lady's maid but although I know more of Hugh's faults than I have thought it at all necessary to bring out in my story I protest that had he been capable of giving the name of love to a feeling in whose presence I dared to speak I should have considered him unworthy of my poor pen in plain language I doubt if I should have cared to write his story at all he gathered together as I have said the few memorials of the old ship gone down in the quiet ocean of time paid one visit of sorrowful gladness to his parents grave over which he raised no futile stone leaving it like the forms within it in the hands of holy decay and took his road wither to Margaret's home to see old Janet and to go once to the grave of his second father then he would return to the toil and hunger and hope of London what made Hugh go to Terry Puffett? is love for Margaret? no a better motive even than that repentance better I mean for Hugh as to the individual occasion not in and itself for love is deeper than repentance seeing that without love there can be no repentance he had repented before but now that he haunted in silence the regions of the past the whole of his history in connection with David returned on him clear and vivid as if passing once again before his eyes and through his heart and he repented more deeply still perhaps he was not quite so much to blame as he thought himself perhaps only now was it possible for the seeds of truths which David had sown in his heart to show themselves above the soil of lower yet ministering cares they had needed to lie winter long in the earth now the keen blasts and grinding frosts had done their work and they began to grow in the tearful prime sorrow for loss brought in her train sorrow for wrong sister more solemn still and with the deeper blessing in the voice of her loving farewell it is a great mistake to suppose that sorrow is a part of repentance it is far too good a grace to come so easily a man may repent that is think better of it and change his way and be very much of a Pharisee I do not say a hypocrite for a long time after it needs a saint to be sorrowful yet repentance is generally the road to this sorrow and now that in the gracious time of grief his eyesight purified by tears he entered one after another all the chambers of the past he humbly renewed once more his friendship with the noble dead and with the homely, harpful living the grey-headed man who walked with God like a child and with his fellow men like an elder brother who was always forgetting his birthright and serving the younger the woman who believed where she could not see and loved where she could not understand and the maiden who was still and lusterless because she ever absorbed and seldom reflected the light all came to him as if to comfort him once more in his loneliness when his heart had room for them and need of them yet again David now became after his departure yet more of a father to him than before for that spirit which is the true soul of all this body of things had begun to recall to his mind the words of David and so teach him the things that David knew the everlasting realities of God and it seemed to him the while that he heard David himself uttering in his homely, kingly voice whatever truth returned to him from the echo cave of the past even when a quite new thought arose within him it came to him in the voice of David or at least with the solemn music of his tones clinging about it as the murmur about the river's course experience had now brought him up to the point where he could begin to profit by David's communion he needed the things which David could teach him and David began forthwith to give them to him that birth of nature in his soul which enabled him to understand and love Margaret helped him likewise to contemplate with admiration and awe the towering peaks of David's hopes, trusts and aspirations he had taught the Ploughman mathematics but that Ploughman had possessed in himself all the essential elements of the grandeur of the old prophets glorified by the faiths which the Son of Man did not find in the earth but left behind him to grow in it and which had grown to a noble growth of beauty and strength in this peasant simple and patriarchal in the midst of his self conceded age and oh how good he had been to him he had built a house that he might take him in from the cold and make life pleasant to him as in the presence of God he had given him his heart every time he gave him his great manly hand and this man this friend this presence of Christ he had forsaken neglected all but forgotten he could not go and like the prodigal fall down before him and say father I have sinned against heaven in thee for that heaven had taken him up out of his sight he could only weep instead and bitterly repent yes there was one thing more he could do Janet still lived he would go to her and confess his sin and beg her forgiveness receiving it he would be at peace he knew David forgave him whether he confessed or not and that if he were alive David would seek his confession only as the casting away of the separation from his heart as the banishment of the worldly spirit and as the natural sign by which he might know that he was one with him yet Janet was David's representative on earth he would go to her so he returned rich and great rich in knowing that he was the child of God whom all the gold mines belong and great in that humility which alone recognizes greatness and in the beginnings of that meekness which shall inherit the earth no more would he stunt his spiritual growth by self-satisfaction no more would he lay aside in the cellars of his mind poor withered bulbs of opinions which but for the evil ministrations of that self-satisfaction seeking to preserve them by drying and salting might have been already bursting into blossoms of truth of infinite loveliness he knew that Margaret thought far too well of him honored him greatly beyond his desserts he would not allow her to be any longer thus deceived he would tell her what a poor creature he was but he would say too that he hoped one day to be worthy of her praise that he hoped to grow to what she thought him if he should fail in convincing her he would receive all the honors she gave him humbly as paid not to him but to what he ought to be God grant it might be as to his future self in this mood he went to Janet Chapter 70 Chapter 71 of David Elgin Broad This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org David Elgin Broad by George MacDonald Chapter 71 The Fur Wood Again Erstan vor der Himliksten Jungfrau Dahaber den Liechten Glänzen den Schleier und Rose Blutschen Sank und Sein Arm Novalis Dileerlingd Zuzeis He stood before the heavenly virgin Isis the goddess of nature then lifted he the light shining veil and rosebud his old love sank into his arms so womanly so benign and so meek Chaucer prologued to the legend of good women it was with the mingling of strange emotions that Hugh approached the scene of those not very old and yet to his feeling quite early memories the dusk was beginning to gather or frost lay thick on the ground the pine trees stood up in the cold looking in their garment of spikes as if the frost had made them the rhyme on the gate was unfriendly and chilled his hand he turned into the footpath he saw the room David built for him its statue was one mass of mosses whose colors were hidden now in the cuckoo fruit of the frost alas how death had cast his deeper frost over all for the man was gone from the earth but neither old winter nor skeleton death can withhold the feet of the little child spring she is stronger than both love shall conquer hate and God will overcome sin he drew night to the door trembling it seems strange to him that his nerves only and not his mind should feel in moments of unusual excitement it sometimes happens that the only consciousness a strong man has of emotion lies in an unwanted physical vibration the mind itself refusing to be disturbed it is however but a seeming the emotion is so deep that consciousness can lay hold of its physical result only the cottage looked the same as ever only the peat stack outside was smaller in the shadowiness of the furs the glimmer of a fire was just discernible in the kitchen window he trembled so much that he could not enter he would go into the firwood first and see Margaret's tree as he always called it in his thoughts and dreams very poor and stunted in meager looked the fir trees of Turry Puffet after the beaches and elms of Arnstead the evening wind whistled keen and cold through their dry needles and made them moan as if because they were fettered and must endure the winter in helpless patience here and there amongst them rose the titans of the little forest the huge old contorted wizard like he had benevolent beings the scotch furs towards one of these he bent his way it was the one under which he had seen Margaret when he met her first in the wood with her whole soul lost in the waving of its wind swung the sun lighted top floating about in the sea of air like a golden nest for some silvery bird of heaven to think that the young girl to whom he had given the primrose he had just found the then firstborn of the spring should now be the queen of his heart her childish dream of the angel haunting the wood had been true only she was the angel herself he drew near the place how well he knew it he seated himself cold as it was in the sanctuary of Scotland at the foot of the blessed tree he did not know that it was cold while he sat with his eyes fixed on the ground a light rustle in the fallen leaves made him raise them suddenly it was all winter and fallen leaves about him but he lifted his eyes and in his soul it was summer Margaret stood before him he was not in the least surprised for how can one wonder to see before his eyes full there is no shock she stood a little way off looking as if she wanted to be sure before she moved a step she was dressed in a grey winzy gown close to her throat and wrist she had neither shawl nor bonnet her fine health kept her warm even in winter wood at sundown she looked just the same at home everywhere most at home in nature's secret chamber like the genius of the place what were the oaks and beaches of our instead now homeliness and glory are heaven she came nearer Margaret he murmured and would have risen no no sit still she rejoined in a pleading tone I thought it was the angel in the picture now I know it sit still dear mr. Sutherland one moment more humbled by his sense of unworthiness and a little distress that she could so quietly reveal the depth of her feeling towards him he said ah Margaret I wish you would not praise one so little deserving it praise she repeated with an accent of wonder I praise you no mr. Sutherland that I am not guilty of next to my father you made me know and feel and as I walked here I was thinking of the old times and older times still but once I saw the very picture out of the old bible she came close to him now he rose trembling but held out no hand uttered no greeting Margaret dare I love you he faltered she looked at him with wide open eyes me she said and her eyes did not move from his a slight rose flush bloomed out on her motionless face will you be my wife he said trembling yet more she made no answer but looked at him still with parted lips motionless I am very poor Margaret I could not marry now it was a stupid speech but he made it I don't care she answered with a voice like thinking if you never marry me he misunderstood her and turned cold to the very heart he misunderstood her stillness her heart lay so deep that it took a long time for its feelings to reach and agitate the surface he said no more but turned away with a sigh come home to my mother she said he obeyed mechanically and walked in silence by her side they reached the cottage and entered Margaret said here he is mother and disappeared Janet was seated in a much with the plain black ribbon down both sides and round the back in the armchair by the fire pondering on the past or gently dreaming of him that was gone she turned her head sorrow had baptized her face with the new gentleness the tender expression which had been but occasional while her husband lived was almost constant now she did not recognize you he sighed and it added weight to his despair he was left outside mother he said involuntarily she started to her feet my Baron threw her arms around him and laid her head on his bosom he sobbed as if his heart would break Janet wept but her weeping was quiet as the summer rain he led her to her chair knelt by her side and hiding his face in her lap like a child without interrupted by convulsive sobs forgive me forgive me don't deserve it but forgive me hooked away my Baron my bonny man did not greet that gate the Lord preserves what are you greeting for are now you come home to your own did not dog it's I say give the lad time woman it's uncle chafe for the Lord's eye making it the best things is I the most at a time a bonny woman did not he say that I he called me his bonny woman ill as I deserved it at his hand and it's no for me to say onward again you Mr. Sutherland given you had been a hauntal war nor a young thoughtless lad could now well help being and know you'll come home and nothing could gladden my heart more except maybe the master himself was to say to my man David come forth you could make no reply he got hold of Margaret's wooden stool which stood in its usual place and sat down upon it at the old woman's feet she gazed in his face for a while and then putting her arm around his neck drew his head to her bosom and fondled him as if he had been her own firstborn but eh your bonny face is sharp and small to what it used to be master Sutherland I do see have come through a heap of trouble I'll tell you all about it said you ne ne but still a wee I can all about it from Maggie and good preserve us your clean Paris with cold let me up my Baron Janet rose and made up the fire which soon cast the joyful glow throughout the room the peat fire in the little cottage was a good symbol of the heart of its mistress it gave far more heat than light and for my part here is light is I like heat better she then put on the kettle or the boiler I think she called it saying I'm just going to make you a cup of pay master Sutherland it's the handiest thing you can and I do to you muckle in want of something would you now take a drop of it to the bottle in the meantime no thank you said you who long to be alone for his heart was cold as ice I would rather wait for the tea but I should be glad to have a good wash after my journey come your ways then Ben the who's I'll just gone and get to drop you hot water in a big canter but you still by the fire he stood and gazed into the peat fire but he saw nothing in it a light step past him several times but he did not eat it the loveliest eyes looked earnestly towards him as they passed but his were not lifted to meet their gaze I will miss the Sutherland come this way he was left alone at length in the room where David had slept where David had used to pray he fell on his knees and rose comforted by the will of God a few things of Margaret's were about the room the dress he had seen her in at Mrs. Elton's was hanging by the bed he kissed the folds of the garment and said God's will be done he had just finished a hasty ablution come away Master Sutherland come Ben to your own Chalmer and said she leading the way to the room she still called the study Margaret was there the room was just as he had left it a bright fire was on the hearth tea was on the table with eggs and out cakes and flour scones and abundance for Janet had the best she could get for Margaret who was only her guest for a little while Janet looked distressed and Margaret glanced at him uneasily do eat something Mr. Sutherland said Margaret you looked at her involuntarily she did not understand his luck and it alarmed her his countenance was changed what is the matter dear you she said rising and laying her hand on his shoulder hoods lassie broke in her mother are you making love to the man Mary Ein he did it first mother answered Margaret with a smile a pang of hope shot through Hugh's heart ow that's the gate of it is it the Baron's gone demented you know after marrying the gentleman Maggie nay nay lass so saying the old lady rather crossly and very imprudently left the room to fill the teapot in the kitchen do you remember this said Margaret who felt that she must have misunderstood something or other taken from her pocket a little book and from the book a withered flower you saw that it was like a primrose and hoped against hope that it was the one which he had given to her on the spring morning in the firwood still a feeling very different from his might have made her preserve it he must know all about it why did you keep that he said because I loved you loved me yes didn't you know why did you say then that you didn't care if if because love is enough you that was why it's the end