 This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Lucy Burgoyne. Angela, An Inverted Love Story by William Shweet Gilbert. I am a poor paralysed fellow who, for many years past, has been confined to a bed or a sofa. For the last six years, I have occupied a small room, giving on to one of the side canals of Venice, and having no one about me but a deaf old woman who makes my bed and attends to my food. And there I ek out a poor income of about 30 pounds a year by making watercolour drawings of flowers and fruit. They are the cheapest models in Venice. And these I send to a friend in London who sells them to a dealer for small sums. But on the whole, I am happy and content. It is necessary that I should describe the position of my room rather minutely. Its only window is about five feet above the water of the canal and above it the house projects some six feet and overhangs the water, the projecting portion being supported by stout piles driven into the bed of the canal. This arrangement has the disadvantage, among others, of so limiting my upward view that I am unable to see more than about ten feet at the height of the house immediately opposite to me. Although by reaching as far out of the window as my infirmity will permit, I can see for a considerable distance up and down the canal which does not exceed 15 feet in width but although I can see that little of the material house opposite I can see reflection upside down in the canal and I take a good deal of inverted interest in such of its inhabitants as shown themselves from time to time always upside down on its balconies and at its windows. When I first occupied my room about six years ago my attention was directed to the reflection of a little girl of thirteen or so as nearly as I could judge who passed every day on a balcony just above the upward range of my limited field of view. She had a glass of flowers and a crucifix on a little table by her side and as she sat there in fine weather from early morning until dark working assiduously all the time I concluded that she earned her living by needlework she was certainly an industrious little girl and as far as I could judge by her upside down reflection neat inner dress and pretty she had an old mother, an invalid who on warm days would sit on the balcony with her and it interested me to see the little maid wrap the old lady in shawls and bring pillows for her chair and a stool for her feet and every now and again lay down her work and kiss and fondle the old lady for half a minute and then take up her work again. Time went by and as the little maid grew up her reflection grew down and at last she was quite a little woman of I suppose 16 or 17 I can only work for a couple of hours or so in the brightest part of the day so I had plenty of time on my hands in which to watch her movements and sufficient imagination to weave a little romance about her and to endow her with a beauty which to a great extent I had to take for granted I saw or fancied that I could see that she began to take an interest in my reflection which of course she could see as I could see hers and one day when it appeared to me that she was looking right at her that is to say when her reflection appeared to be looking right at me I tried the desperate experiment of nodding to her and to my intense delight her reflection nodded in reply and so our two reflections became known to one another it did not take me very long to fall in love with her but a long time passed before I could make up my mind to do more than nod to her every morning when the old woman moved me from my bed to the sofa at the window and again in the evening when the little maid left the balcony for that day one day however when I saw her reflection looking at mine I nodded to her and threw a flower into the canal she nodded several times in return and I saw her direct her mother's attention to the incident then every morning I threw a flower into the water for good morning and another in the evening for good night and I soon discovered that I had not altogether thrown them in vain for one day she threw a flower to join mine and she laughed and clapped her hands when she saw the two flowers joined forces and flowed away together and then every morning and every evening she threw her flower when I threw mine and when the two flowers met she clapped her hands and so did I as they sometimes were owing to one of them having met an obstruction which did not catch the other she threw up her hands in a pretty affection of despair which I tried to imitate but in an English and unsuccessful fashion and when they were rudely run down by a passing gondola which happened not unfrequently she pretended to cry and I did the same then in pretty pantomime she would point downwards to the sky to tell me that it was destiny that had caused the shipwreck of our flowers and I in pantomime not nearly so pretty would try to convey to her that destiny would be kinder next time and that perhaps tomorrow our flowers would be more fortunate and so the innocent courtship went on one day she showed me her crucifix and kissed it and thereupon I took a little silver crucifix that always stood by me and kissed that and so she knew that we were one in religion one day the little maid did not appear on her balcony and for several days I saw nothing of her and although I threw my flowers as usual no flower came to keep it company however after a time she reappeared dressed in black and crying often and then I knew that poor child's mother was dead and as far as I knew she was alone in the world the flowers came no more for many days nor did she show any sign of recognition but kept her eyes on her work except when she placed her handkerchief to them and opposite to her was the old lady's chair and I could see that from time to time she would lay down her work and gaze at it and then a flood of tears would come to her relief but at last one day she roused herself to nod to me and then her flower came day by day and my flower went forth to join it and with varying fortunes the two flowers sailed away as of yore but the darkest day of all to me was when a good looking young gondolier standing right end uppermost in his gondola for I could see him in the flesh worked his craft alongside the house and stood talking to her as she sat on the balcony they seemed to speak as old friends indeed as well as I could make out he held her by the hand during the whole of their interview which lasted quite half an hour eventually he pushed off and left my heart heavy within me but I soon took heart of grace for as soon as he was out of sight the little maid threw two flowers growing on the same stem an allegory of which I could make nothing until it broke upon me that she meant to convey to me that he and she were brother and sister and that I had no cause to be sent and thereupon I nodded to her cheeringly and she nodded to me and laughed aloud and I laughed in return and all went on again as before then came a dark and dreary time for it became necessary that I should undergo treatment that could find me absolutely to my bed for many days and I worried and fretted I thought that the little maid and I should see each other no longer and worse still that she would think that I had gone away without even hinting to her that I was going and I lay awake at night wondering how I could let her know the truth and fifty plans splitted through my brain all appearing to be feasible enough at night but absolutely wild and impracticable in the morning one day and it was a bright day indeed for me the old woman who tended me told me that a gondolae had inquired whether the English signal had gone away or had died and so I learned that the little maid had been anxious about me and that she had sent her brother to inquire and the brother had no doubt taken to her the reason of my protracted absence from the window from that day and ever after during my three weeks of bed keeping a flower was found every morning on the ledge of my window which was within easy reach of anyone in a boat and when at last a day came when I could be moved I took my custom place on my sofa at the window and the little maid saw me and stood on her head so to speak and clapped her hands upside down with a delight that was as eloquent as my right hand up the light could be and so the first time the gondolae had passed my window I beckoned to him and he pushed alongside and told me with many bright smiles that he was glad indeed to see me well again then I thanked him and his sister for their many kind thoughts about me during my retreat and I then learned from him that her name was Angela and that she was the best and purest maiden in all Venice and that anyone might think himself happy indeed who could call her sister but that he was happier even than her brother that he was to be married to her and indeed they were to be married the next day there upon my heart seemed to swell to bursting and the blood rushed through my veins so that I could hear it and nothing else for a while I managed at last to stammer forth some words of awkward congratulation and he left me singing merrily after asking permission to bring his bride to see me on the morrow as they returned from church forth said he, my Angela has known you very long ever since she was a child and she has often spoke to me of the poor Englishman who was a good Catholic and who lay all day long for years and years on the sofa at a window and she had said over and over again how dearly she wished she could speak to him and comfort him and one day when you threw a flower into the canal she asked me whether she might throw another and I told her yes that he would understand that it meant sympathy for one sorely afflicted and so I learned that it was pity and not love except indeed such love as it is akin to pity that prompted her to interest herself in my welfare and there was an end of it all for the two flowers that I thought were on one stem were two flowers tied together but I could not tell that and they were meant to indicate that she and the gondolae were a fine ant lovers and my express pleasure at this symbol delighted her for she took it to mean that I rejoiced in her happiness and the next day the gondolae came with a train of other gondolas all decked in their holiday garb and on his gondola sat Angela happy and blushing at her happiness then he and she entered the house in which I dwelt and came into my room and it was strange indeed after so many years of inversion to see her with her head above her feet and then she wished me happiness and a speedy restoration to good health which could never be and I in broken words and with tears in my eyes gave her the little silver crucifix that had stood by my bed or my table for so many years and Angela took it reverently and crossed herself and kissed it and so departed with her delighted husband and as I heard the song of the gondoliers as they went their way the song dying away in the distance as the shadows of the sun down closed around me I felt that they were singing the requiem of the only love that had ever entered my heart End the story This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org A Dog's Tale by Mark Twain 1 My father was a Saint Bernard My mother was a Collie but I am a Presbyterian This is what my mother told me I do not know these nice distinctions myself To me they are only fine large words meaning nothing My mother had a faunus for such She liked to say them and see other dogs look surprised and envious as wondering how she got so much education but indeed it was not real education it was only show she got the words by listening in the dining room and drawing room when there was company and by going with the children to Sunday school and listening there and whenever she heard a large word she said it over to herself many times and so was able to keep it until there was a dogmatic gathering in the neighborhood then she would get it off and surprise and distress them all from pocket pup to mastiff which rewarded her for all her trouble if there was a stranger he was nearly sure to be suspicious and when he got his breath again he would ask her what it meant and she always told him he was never expecting this but thought he would catch her so when she told him he was the one that looked ashamed whereas he had thought it was going to be she the others were always waiting for this and glad of it and proud of her but they knew what was going to happen because they had had experience when she told them the meaning of a big word they were also taken up with admiration that it never occurred to any dog to doubt if it was the right one and that was natural because for one thing she answered up so promptly that it seemed like a dictionary speaking and for another thing where could they find out whether it was right or not for she was the only cultivated dog there was by and by when I was older she brought home the word unintellectual one time and worked it pretty hard all the week at different gatherings making much unhappiness and despondency and it was at this time that I noticed that during that week she was asked for the meaning at eight different assemblages and flashed out a fresh definition every time which showed me that she had more presence of mind and culture though I said nothing of course she had one word which she always kept on hand and ready like a life preserver kind of emergency word to strap on when she was likely to get washed overboard in a sudden way that was the word synonymous when she happened to fetch out a long word which had had its day weeks before and its prepared meanings gone to her dump pile if there was a stranger there of course it knocked him groggy for a couple of minutes then he would come to and by that time she would be away down the wind on another tack not expecting anything so when he'd hail and ask her to cash in I the only dog in the inside of her game could see her canvas flicker a moment but only just a moment then it would belly out taut and full and she would say as calm as the summer's day its synonymous with super-arrogation or some godless long reptile of a word like that and go possibly about and skim away on the next tack perfectly comfortable you know and leave that stranger looking profane and embarrassed and the initiated sliding the floor with their tails in unison and their faces transfigured with a holy joy and it was the same with phrases she would drag home a whole phrase if it had a grand sound and play at six nights and two matinees and explain a new way every time which she had to for all she cared for was the phrase she wasn't interested in what it meant and knew those dogs hadn't witted enough to catch her anyway yes she was a daisy she got so she wasn't afraid of anything she had such confidence in the ignorance of those creatures she even brought anecdotes that she had heard the family and the dinner guests laugh and shout over and as a rule she got the nub of one chestnut hitched onto another chestnut where of course it didn't fit and hadn't any point when she delivered the nub she fell over and rolled on the floor and laughed and barked in the most insane way I could see that she was wondering to herself why it didn't seem as funny as it did when she first heard it but no harm was done the others rolled and barked too privately ashamed of themselves for not seeing the point and never suspecting that the fault was not with them and there wasn't any to see you can see by these things that she was of a rather vain and frivolous character still she had virtues and enough to make up I think she had a kind heart and gentle ways and never harbored resentments for injuries done her but put them easily out of her mind and forgot them and she taught her children her kindly way and from her we learned also to be brave and prompt in time of danger and not to run away but face the peril that threatened friend or stranger and help him the best we could without stopping to think what the cost might be to us and she taught us not by words only but by example and that is the best way and the surest and most lasting why the brave things she did the splendid things she was just a soldier and so modest about it well you couldn't help admiring her not even a King Charles Spaniel could remain entirely despicable in her society so as you see there was more to her than her education too when I was well grown at last I was sold and taken away and I never saw her again she was brokenhearted and so was I and we cried but she comforted me as well as she could and said we were sent into this world for a wise and good purpose and must do our duties without repining and find it live it for the best good of others and never mind about the results they were not our affair she said men who did like this would have a noble and beautiful reward by and by in another world and although we animals would not go there to do well and right without reward would give to our brief lives a worthiness and dignity which in itself would be a reward she had gathered these things from time to time when she had gone to the Sunday school with the children and had laid them up in her memory more carefully than she had done and she had studied them deeply for her good and ours one may see by this that she had a wise and thoughtful head for all there was so much lightness and vanity in it so we set off our wells and looked our last upon each other through our tears and the last thing she said keeping it for the last to make me remember it the better I think was in memory of me when there is a time of danger to another do not think of yourself think of your mother and do as she would do I think I could forget that no three it was such a charming home my new one a fine great house with pictures and delicate decorations and rich furniture and no bloom anywhere all the wilderness of dainty colors lit up with flooding sunshine and the spacious grounds around it and the great garden oh greensward and noble trees and flowers no end and I was the same as a member of the family and they loved me and petted me and did not give me a new name but called me by my old one that was so dear to me and my mother had given me a lean mild bore name she got it out of a song and the greys knew that song and said it was a beautiful name Mrs. Grey was 30 and so sweet and so lovely you cannot imagine it and Sadie was 10 and just like her mother just a darling slender little copy of her with auburn tails down her back and short frocks and the baby was a year old and clumped and dimpled and fond of me and never could get enough of falling on my tail and hugging me and laughing out its innocent happiness and Mr. Grey was 38 and tall and slender and handsome a little bald in front alert quick in his movements business-like prompt decided unsentimental and with that kind of trim chiseled face it just seems to glint and sparkle with frosty intellectuality he was a renowned scientist I do not know what the word means but my mother would know how to use it and get effects she would know how to depress a rat terrier with it and make a lap dog look sorry he came but that is not the best one the best one was laboratory my mother could organize a trust on that one that would skin the tax collars off the whole herd the laboratory was not a book or a picture or a place to wash your hands in as a college president's dog said no, that is the lavatory the laboratory is quite different and is filled with jars and bottles and electrics and wires and strange machines and every week other scientists came there and sat in the place and used the machines and discussed and made what they called experiments and discoveries and often I came too and stood around and listened and tried to learn for the sake of my mother and in loving memory of her although it was a pain to me as realizing what she was losing out of her life and I gaining nothing at all for try as I might I was never able to make anything out of it at all other times I lay on the floor in the mistress's work room and slept she gently using me for a foot stool knowing it pleased me or it was a caress other times I spent an hour in the nursery and got well tousled and made happy other times I watched by the crib there when the baby was asleep and the nurse out for a few minutes on the baby's affairs other times I romped and raced to the grounds in the garden with Sadie till we were tired out then slumbered on the grass in the shade of a tree while she read her book other times I went visiting among the neighbor dogs for there were some most pleasant ones not far away and one very handsome and courteous and graceful one a curly haired Irish setter by the name of Robin Adair who was a presbyterian like me and belonged to the Scotch minister the servants in our house were all kind to me and were fond of me and so as you see mine was a pleasant life there could not be a happier dog than I was nor a great flair one I will say this for myself for it is only the truth I tried in all ways to do well and right and honor my mother's memory and her teachings and earn the happiness that had come to me as best I could by and by came my little puppy and then my cup was full my happiness was perfect it was the dearest little waddling thing and so smooth and soft and velvety and had such cunning little awkward pause and such affectionate eyes and such a sweet and innocent face and it made me so proud to see how the children and their mother adored it and fondled it and exclaimed over every little wonderful thing it did it did seem to me that life was just too lovely too then came the winter one day I was standing a watch in the nursery that is to say I was asleep on the bed the baby was asleep in the crib which was alongside the bed on the side next to the fireplace it was the kind of crib that has a lofty tent over it made of a gauzy stuff that you can see through the nurse was out and we too sleepers were alone a spark from the wood fire was shot out and it lit on the slope of the tent I suppose a quiet interval followed then a scream from the baby woke me and there was that tent flaming up toward the ceiling before I could think I sprang to the floor in my fright and in a second was halfway to the door but in the next half second my mother's farewell was sounding in my ears and I was back on the bed again I reached my head through the flames and dragged the baby out by the waistband and tugged it along and we fell to the floor together in a cloud of smoke I snatched a new hold and dragged the screaming little creature along and out at the door and around the bend of the hall and was still tugging away all excited and happy and proud when the master's voice shouted be gone you cursed beast and I jumped to save myself but he was wonderfully quick and chased me up striking furiously at me with his cane I dodging this way and that in terror and at last a strong blow fell upon my left foreleg which made me shriek and fall for the moment helpless the cane went up for another blow but never descended for the nurse's voice rang wildly out the nurseries on fire when the master rushed away in that direction and my other bones were saved the pain was cruel but no matter I must not lose any time he might come back at any moment so I limped on three legs to the other end of the hall where there was a dark little stairway leading up into a garret where old boxes and such things were kept as I had heard say and where people seldom went I managed to climb up there then I searched my way through the dark among the piles of things and hid in the secretest place I could find it was foolish to be afraid there yet still I was so afraid that I held in and hardly even whimpered though it would have been such a comfort to whimper because that eases the pain you know but I could lick my leg and that did me some good for half an hour there was a commotion downstairs and shouting and rushing footsteps and then there was quiet again quiet for some minutes and that was grateful to my spirit for then my fears began to go down and my fears are worse than pains oh much worse then came a sound that froze me they were calling me calling me by name hunting for me it was muffled by distance but that could not take the terror out of it and it was the most dreadful sound to me that I had ever heard it went all about everywhere down there along the halls through all the rooms in both stories and in the basement in the cellar then outside and further and further away then back and all about the house again and I thought it would never, never stop but it lasted did hours and hours after the vague twilight of the garret had long ago been blotted out by black darkness then in that blessed stillness my terror fell little by little away and I was at peace and slept it was a good rest I had but I woke before the twilight had come again I was feeling fairly comfortable and I could think out a plan now I made a very good one which was to creep down all the way down the back stairs and hide behind the cellar door and slip out and escape when the ice man came at dawn while he was inside filling the refrigerator then I would hide all day and start on my journey when night came my journey too well anywhere where they would not know me and betray me to the master I was feeling almost cheerful now then suddenly I thought why what would life be without my puppy that was despair there was no plan for me I saw that and must stay where I was stay and wait and take what might come it was not my affair that was what life is my mother had said it then well then the calling began again all my sorrows came back I said to myself the master will never forgive I did not know what I had done to make him so bitter and so unforgiving yet I judged it was something a dog could not understand though which was clear to a man and dreadful they called and called days and nights it seemed to me so long that the hunger and thirst near drove me mad and I recognized that I was getting very weak when you are this way you sleep a great deal and I did once I woke in an awful fright it seemed to me that the calling was right there in the garret and so it was it was Sadie's voice and she was crying my name was falling from her lips all broken poor thing and I could not believe my ears for the joy of it when I heard her say come back to us oh come back to us and forgive it is all so sad without our I broke in with such a grateful little yelp and the next moment Sadie was plunging and stumbling through the darkness and the lumber and shouting for the family to hear she's found she's found the days that followed well they were wonderful the mother and Sadie and the servants why they just seemed to worship me they couldn't seem to make me a bed that was fine enough and as for food they couldn't be satisfied with anything but game and delicacies that were out of season and every day the friends and neighbors flocked in to hear about my heroism that was the name they called it by and it means agriculture I remember my mother pulling it on a kennel once and explaining it that way but didn't say what agriculture was except that it was synonymous with intramural incandescence and a dozen times a day Mrs. Gray and Sadie would tell the tale to newcomers and say I risked my life to save the babies and both of us had burns to prove it and then the company would pass me around and pet me and exclaim about me and you could see the pride in the eyes of Sadie and her mother and when the people wanted to know what made me limp they looked ashamed and changed the subject and sometimes when people hunted them this way and that way with questions about it it looked to me as if they were going to cry and this was not all the glory no, the master's friends came a whole twenty of the most distinguished people and had me in the laboratory and discussed me as if I was a kind of discovery and some of them said it was wonderful and a dumb beast the finest exhibition of instinct they could call to mind but the master said with vehemence it's far above instinct it's reason and many a man privileged to be saved and go with you and me to a better world by right of its possession has less of it than this poor, silly quadruped that's poor ordained to perish and then he laughed and said why look at me I'm a sarcasm bless you with all my grand intelligence the only thing I inferred was that the dog had gone mad and was destroying the child whereas but for the beast's intelligence it's reason, I tell you the child would have perished they disputed and disputed and I was the very center and subject of it all and I wish my mother could know that this grand honor had come to me it would have made her proud then they discussed optics, as they called it and whether a certain injury to the brain would produce blindness or not but they could not agree about it and said they must test it by experiment by and by and next they discussed plants and that interested me because in the summer Sadie and I had planted seeds I helped her dig the holes, you know and after days and days a little shrub or flower came up there and I wonder how that could happen but it did and I wished I could talk I would have told those people about it and shown them how much I knew and been all alive with the subject but I didn't care for the optics it was dull and when they came back to it again it bored me and I went to sleep pretty soon it was spring and sunny and pleasant and lovely and the sweet mother and the children patted me and the puppy goodbye and went away on a journey and a visit to their kin and the master wasn't any company for us it was good times and the servants were kind and friendly so we got along quite happily and counted the days and waited for the family and one day those men came again and said now for the test and they took the puppy to the laboratory and I limped three leggedly along too feeling proud for any attention shown the puppy was a pleasure to me of course they discussed and experimented and then suddenly the puppy shrieked and they set him on the floor and he went staggering around with his head all bloody and the master clapped his hands and shouted I've won, confess it, he's as blind as a bat and they all said it's so you've proved your theory and suffering humanity owes you a great debt from henceforth and they crowded around him and wrung his hand cordially and thankfully and praised him but I hardly saw or heard these things for I ran at once to my little darling and snuggled close to it where it lay and licked the blood and put its head against mine whimpering softly and I knew in my heart it was a comfort to it in its pain and trouble to feel its mother's touch though it could not see me then it dropped down presently and its little velvet nose rested upon the floor and it was still and did not move anymore soon the master stopped discussing a moment and rang in the footman and said bury it in the far corner of the garden and then went on with the discussion and I trotted after the footman very happy and grateful for I knew the puppy was out of its pain now because it was asleep we went far down the garden to the furthest end where the children and the nurse and the puppy sat in the summer in the shade of a grey elm and there the footman dug a hole and I saw he was going to plant the puppy and I was glad because it would grow and come up a fine handsome dog like Robin Adair and be a beautiful surprise for the family when they came home so I tried to help him dig but my lame leg was no good being stiff and you have to have too or it is no use when the footman had finished and covered little Robin up he patted my head and there were tears in his eyes and he said he saved his child I have watched two whole weeks and he doesn't come up this last week a fright has been stealing upon me I think there is something terrible about this I do not know what it is but the fear makes me sick and I cannot eat though the servants bring me the best of food and they pet me so and even come in the night and cry and say poor doggy do give it up and come home don't break our hearts and all this terrifies me the more and makes me sure something has happened this week since yesterday I cannot stand in my feet anymore and within this hour the servants looking toward the sun where it was sinking out of sight and the night chill coming on said things I could not understand but they carried something cold to my heart those poor creatures they do not suspect they will come home in the morning and eagerly ask for the little doggy that did the brave deed and who of us will be strong enough to say the truth to them the humble little friend is gone where go the beast that perish and of a dog's tail by Mark Twain this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org each in his own tongue by L. M. Montgomery read for LibriVox by Missy the honey tinted autumn sunshine was falling thickly over the crimson upper maples around Old Abel Blair's door there was only one outer door in Old Abel's house and it almost always stood wide open a little black dog with one ear missing and a lame forepaw almost always slept on the worn red sandstone slab which served Old Abel for a doorstep and on the still more worn fill above it a large gray cat almost always slept just inside the door on a bandied leg chair of Elder Dave Old Abel almost always fat he was sitting there this afternoon a little old man sadly twisted with rheumatism his head was abnormally large fatched with long, wiry black hair his face was heavily lined and sorely flunged his eyes were deep-set and black with occasional peculiar golden flashes in them a strange looking man was Old Abel Blair and as strange was he as he looked lower-carmity people would have told you Old Abel was almost always sober in these his later years he was sober today he liked to bask in that ripe sunlight as well as his dog and cat live and in such baskins he almost always looked out of his doorway at the far fine blue sky over the tops of the crowded navels but today he was not looking at the sky instead he was staring at the black dusty rafters of his kitchen where hung dried meats and strings of onions and bunches of herbs and fishing tackle but Old Abel saw not these things his face was the face of a man who beholds visions compact of heavenly pleasure and hellish pain for Old Abel was seeing what he might have been and what he was as he always was and the awful joy of dreaming that he was young again with unspoiled life before him was so great and compelling that it counterbalanced the agony in the realization of a dish on our old age following years in which he had squandered the wealth of his soul in ways well wisdom lifted not her boy Felix Moore was standing opposite to him before an untidy stove where the noon fire had died down into pallid scattered ashes under his chin he held Old Abel's brown battered fiddle his eyes too were fixed on the ceiling and he too saw things not lawful to be uttered in any language based out of music and of all music only bit given forth by the anguished and raptured spirit of the violin and yet this Felix was little more than 12 years old and his face was still the face of a child who knows nothing either sorrow or sin or failure or remorse only in his large gray black eye was there something not of the child something that spoke of an inheritance from many hearts now ashes which had a foretime grieved and joy and struggled and failed and succeeded and rubble the inarticulate cries of their longing had passed into this child's soul and transmuted themselves into the expression of his music Felix was a beautiful child poverty people who stayed at home thought though and Old Abel Blair who had roamed afar in many lands thought though even the Reverend Stephen Leonard who taught and tried to believe that favors deceitful and beauty of fame thought though he was a flight lad with sloping shoulders a thin brown neck and a headset on it with stag-like grace and uplift his hair cut straight across his brow and following over his ears after some decrees of Janet Andrews the minister's housekeeper who was a glossy blue black the skin of his face and hands was like ivory his eyes were large and beautifully tinted gray with dilating pupils his features had the outlines of a cameo comedy mothers considered him delicate and had long foretold that the minister would never bring him up but Old Abel pulled his bristled mustache when he heard such forebodings and smiled Felix more will live, he said positively he can't kill that kind until their work is done he's got a work to do if the minister will let him do it and if the minister don't let him do it then I wouldn't be in that minister's shoes when he comes to the judgment no I'd rather be in my own it's an awful thing to cross the purposes of the Almighty either in your own life or anybody else's sometimes I think it's what's meant by the unpardonable sin I that I do comedy people never asked what Old Abel meant they had long ago given up such vain questioning when a man had lived as Old Abel had lived for the greater part of his life was it any wonder he said crazy things and as for hinting that Mr. Leonard a man who was really almost too good to live was guilty of any sin much less an unpardonable one look there now what use was it to be taken any account of Old Abel's queer speeches though to be sure there was no great harm in a fiddle and maybe Mr. Leonard was a might too strict that way with the child but then could you wonder at it there was his father you see Felix finally lowered the violin and came back to Old Abel's kitchen with a long sigh Old Abel smiled dearly at him a smile of a man who has been in the hands of the tormentors it's awful the way you play it's awful like he said with his shutter never heard anything like it never had any teaching since you were nine years old and not much practice except what you could get here now and then in my old battered fiddle and you think you make it up yourself as you go along I suppose your grandfather had never heard of your studying music would he now Felix shook his head I know he wouldn't Abel he wants me to be a minister ministers are good things to be but I'm afraid I can't be a minister not a pulpit minister there's different kinds of ministers and each must talk to men in his own tongue to do many real good fiddle they will meditatively your Tommy's music strange that your grandfather can't see that for himself and him such a broad minded man he's the only minister I ever had much use for he's God's own if ever a man was and he loves you yes sir he loves you like the apple of his eye and I love him said Felix one way I love him so much that I'll even try to be a minister for his sake though I don't want to be what do you want to be if father's violinist stands for the child his ivory-hued face suddenly warming into living rose I want to play two thousand and see their eyes look as yours do when I play sometimes your eyes frighten me but oh it's a splendid fright if I had father's violin I could do better I remember that he once said it had a soul that was doing purgatory for it since he lived on earth I don't know what he meant but it seemed to me that his violin was alive he taught me to play only as soon as I was big enough to play did you love your father asked old Abel with a keen look again Felix prinsen but he looked straightly and steadily into his old friend's play no he said I didn't but he added greatly and deliberately I don't think you should have asked him such a question it was old Abel's turn to blush comedy people would not have believed that he could blush and perhaps no living being could have calm that deepening hue but a beat and cheat save only this grey-edged child of the looping face no I guess I shouldn't he said but I'm always making mistakes I've never made anything else that's why I'm nothing more than old Abel to the comedy people nobody but you and your grandfather recalls me Mr Blair yet William Blair at the store up there, rich and respected as he is was a half a cover man as I was when we started in life you may not believe that but it's true and the worst of it is young Felix that most of the time I don't care whether I'm Mr Blair or old Abel only when you play out here it makes me feel just as a look I saw it in a little girl's eyes from years ago made me feel her name was Ann Shirley she lived with the cupboards down at Avonlea we got into a conversation at Blair's store she could talk a blue streak to anyone like real could I happened to say about something that it didn't matter to a battered old hope of 60 odd blood being she looked at me with her big innocent eyes a little bit coach for life as if I had said something awful hereditary don't you think Mr Blair she said that the older we get the more things ought to matter to us as grave as if she'd been a hundred instead of eleven things matter so much to me now she said clasping our hands this way and I'm sure that when I'm 60 they'll matter just five times as much to me while the way she looked and the way she spoke made me feel gone I'm ashamed of myself because things had stopped mattering with me but never mind all that my miserable old feelings don't count so much what come of your father's fiddle Grandfather took it away when I came here I think he burned it and I longed for it so often well we've always got my old brown fiddle to come to when we must yes I know and I'm glad for that but I'm hungry for a violin all the time I come here when the hunger gets too much to bear I feel as if I oughtn't to come even then I'm always saying I won't do it again because I know Grandfather wouldn't like it if he knew he's never forbidden it has he no but that is because he doesn't know why come here for that he never thinks of such a thing I feel sure he would forbid it if he knew and that makes me very wretched and yet I have to come Mr Blair do you know why Grandfather have a play on the violin he loves music and he doesn't mind my playing on the organ if I don't make left other things I can't understand it can you I have a pretty good idea but I can't tell you it isn't my secret maybe he'll tell you himself someday but Mark you young Felix he's got good reasons for it all knowing what I know I can't blame him over much though I think he's mistaken come now play something more for me before you go play something bright and happy this time so as to leave me with a good taste the last thing you played took me straight to heaven but heaven's awful near to hell and at the last you tip me in I don't understand you said Felix drawing his fine narrow black brows together in a perplexed realm no and I wouldn't want you to you couldn't understand unless he was an old man who had it in him once to do something and be a man I don't know but I play differently to different people I don't know how that is when I'm alone with you I have to play one way and when Janet comes over here to listen I feel quite another way not so thrilling but happier and lonelier and that day when Jessica came over and she said I don't know I don't know and that day when Jesse Blair was here listening I felt as if I wanted to laugh and sing as if the violin wanted to laugh and sing all the time a strange golden gleam flashed through old Abel's tongue and eye God, he muttered into his breath I believe the boy can get into other folk's souls somehow and play out what his soul sees there what's that you say, inquired pellets petting his fiddle never mind, go on something lively now, young Felix stop probing into my soul where you have it no business to be you infant and play me something out of your own something sweet and happy and pure I'll play the way I feel on sunshiney morning when the birds are singing and I forget I have to be a minister said Felix simply a witching, gurgling, mirthful strain like mingled bird and brooksong floated out on the still air along the path where the red maple leaves were falling very fastly one by one the reverend Stephen Leonard heard it as he came along the way and the reverend Stephen Leonard smiled now, when Stephen Leonard smiled children ran to him and grown people felt his soat they looked from Pisca over to some fair land of promise beyond the fret and worry of their charitoned earthly lives Mr. Leonard loved music as he loved all things beautiful whether in the material or the spiritual world though he did not realise how much he loved him for their beauty alone or he would have been shocked and remorseful he himself was beautiful his figure was erect and youthful despite 70 years his face was as mobile and charming as a woman yet with all a man's tried strength and firmness in it and his dark blue eyes flashed with the brilliance of woman 20 even his silk and silvery hair could not make an old man of him he knew him and he was and so far as any mortal man may be worthy of that worship old Abel is amusing himself with his violin again he thought what a delicious thing he's playing he has quite a gift for the violin but how can he play such a thing as that a battered old hulk of a man who has at one time or another wallowed in almost every spin to which human nature can think he was on one of his sprees three days ago the first one for over a year was a rocket-square and charlatan among the dog and now he's playing something that only a young archangel on the hills of heaven ought to be able to play well it will make my task all the easier Abel is always repentant by the time he is able to play on his spittle Mr Leonard was on the doorstone the little dog had frisked down to meet him and the grey cat rubbed her head against his leg old Abel did not notice him he was meeting time with uplifted hand and smiling face to Felix's music and his eyes were young again glowing with laughter and sheer happiness Felix what does this mean? the violin bow clattered from Felix's hand upon the floor he swung around and faced his grandfather as he met the passion of grief and hurt in the old man's eyes his own clouded with an agony of repentance grandfather I'm sorry he cried brokenly now now old Abel had risen deprecatingly it's all my fault Mr Leonard don't you blame the boy I coaxed him to play a bit for me didn't feel fit to touch the fiddle yet myself too soon after Friday you see so I coaxed him on wouldn't give him no peace till he played it's all my fault no said Felix throwing back his head his face was as white as marble yet it seemed a blaze with desperate truth and scornable Abel's shielding lie no grandfather it is an Abel's fault I came over here on purpose to play because I thought you'd gone to the harbor I've come here often ever since I've lived with you ever since you've lived with me you've been deceiving me like this Felix there was no anger in Mr Leonard's tone only measureless sorrow the boy's sensitive lips quivered you gave me grandfather he was so deceiving me you never forbid him to come old Abel broken angrily be just Mr Leonard be just I am just he disobeyed me in the spirit if not in the letter do you not know it Felix yes grandfather I have done wrong I've known that I was doing wrong every time I came forgive me grandfather Felix I forgive you but I ask you to promise me here and now that you will never again as long as you live touch a violin dusky crimson rushed madly over the boy's face he gave a cry as if you'd been lashed with a whip old Abel sprang to his feet don't you ask such a promise that then Mr Leonard he cried fiercely it's a sin that's what it is man what blinds you you are blind can't you see what is in the boy his soul it's full of music it'll torture him to death or to worse if you don't let it have way there's a devil in such music said Mr Leonard hotly I there may be but don't forget there's a Christ in it too retorted old Abel in a low tense tone Mr Leonard looked shocked he considered that old Abel that uttered blasphemy he turned away from him reviewing me Felix promised me there was no relenting in his face or tone he was merciless in the use of the power he possessed over that young loving spirit Felix understood that there was no escape but it was very whiteness he said I promised grandfather Mr Leonard drew a long breath of relief he knew that promise would be kept so did old Abel the latter crossed the floor and suddenly took the violin from Felix's relaxed hand without a word or look he went into the little bedroom off the kitchen and shut the door with a slam of righteous indignation but from its window he stealthily watched his visitors go away just as they entered on the maple path Mr Leonard laid his hand on Felix's head and looked down at him instantly the boy flung his arm up over the old man's shoulder and smiled at him in the look they exchanged there was boundless love and trust eye and good fellowship old Abel's scornful eyes again held the golden flash how those two love each other he muttered enviously how they torture each other Mr Leonard went into his study to pray when he got home he knew that Felix had run for company to Janet Andrews the little, thin, sweet-faced rigid-lipped woman who kept house for them Mr Leonard knew that Janet would disapprove of his action as deeply as old Abel had done she would say nothing she would only look at him with reproachful eyes over the tea-cups that's up her time but Mr Leonard believed he had done what was best and his conscience did not trouble him though his heart did thirteen years before this his daughter Margaret had almost broken that heart by marrying a man of whom he could not approve Martin Moore was a professional violinist he was a popular performer though not in any sense a great one he met the slim golden-haired daughter of the man at the house of a college friend she was visiting in Toronto and fell straight away in love with her Margaret had loved him with all her virginal heart in return and married him despite her father's disapproval it was not to Martin Moore's profession that Mr Leonard objected to the man himself he knew that the violinist's past life had not been such as became a suitor for Margaret Leonard and his insight into character warned him that Martin Moore could never make any woman lastingly happy Margaret Leonard did not believe this she married Martin Moore and lived one year in paradise perhaps at a tone for the three bitter years which followed that and her child at all events was very loyal and uncomplaining she died alone or her husband was away on a concert to her and her illness was so brief that her father had not had time to reach her before the end her body was taken home to be buried beside her mother in the little comedy churchyard Mr Leonard wished to take the child but Martin Moore refused to give him up six years later Moore too died and at last Mr Leonard had his heart's desire the possession of Margaret's son the grandfather awaited the child's coming with mingled feelings his heart yearned for him yet he dreaded to meet a second edition of Martin Moore suppose Margaret's son resembled the cancer and died the bond of his father or worse still suppose he were cursed with his father's lack of principle his instability, his bohemian instinct thus Mr Leonard tortured himself wretchedly before the coming of youth the child did not look like either father or mother instead Mr Leonard found himself looking into a face which he had put away under the grasses 30 years before the face of his girl bride who had died at Margaret's birth here again were her lustrous gray black eye her ivory outline her fine traced arch of a brow and here, looking out of those eyes seemed her very scared again from that moment the soul of the old man was knit to the soul of the child and they loved each other with a love surpassing that of women Felix's only inheritance from his father was his mother's music but the child had genius where his father had possessed only talent to Martin Moore's outward mastery of the violin was added the mystery and intensity of his mother's nature with some Moore's subtle quality still which had perhaps come to him from the grandmother he so strongly resembled Moore had understood what a career was naturally before the child and he had trained him in the technique of his art and the slight fingers could first grasp the bow when nine-year-old Felix came to the comedy net he had mastered as much of the science of the violin as nine out of ten musicians acquire in a lifetime and he brought with him his father's violin it was all Martin Moore had to leave his son but it was an amati the commercial value of which nobody in comedy expected Mr. Leonard had taken possession of it and Felix had never seen it since he cried himself to sleep many a night for the lawsuit Mr. Leonard did not know this and if Janet Andrews suspected it she held her tongue an art in which she excelled she saw no harm in a fiddle herself and thought Mr. Leonard absurdly strict in the matter though it would not have been well for the luckless outsider who might have ventured to say as much to her she had connived at Felix's visit to old Abel Blair squaring the matter with her presbyterian conscience by some peculiar process known only to herself when Janet heard of the promise which Mr. Leonard had exacted from Felix she seized with indignation and though she knew her place better than say anything to Mr. Leonard about it she made her disapproval so plainly manifest in her bearing that the stern gentle old man found the atmosphere of his hitherto peaceful man unpleasantly chill and hostile for a time it was the wish of his heart that Felix should be a minister as he would have wished his own son to be had one been born to him Mr. Leonard thought rightly that the highest work to which any man could be called was a life of service to his fellows but he made the mistake of supposing the field of service much narrower than it is a failing to see that a man may minister to the needs of humanity in many different but equally effective way Janet hoped that Mr. Leonard might not exact the fulfillment of Felix's promise but Felix himself, with the instinctive understanding of perfect love knew that it was vain to hope for any change of viewpoint in his grandfather he addressed himself to the keeping of his promise in letter and in spirit he never went again to old ables he did not even play on the organ though this was not forbidden because any music wakened in him a passion of longing and ecstasy which demanded expression with an intent for the not to be born he flung himself grimly into his studies and conned Latin and Greek verbs with a persistency which soon placed him at the head of all competitors only once in the long winter did he come near to breaking his promise one evening when March was melting into April and the pulses of spring were stirring under the lingering snow he was walking home from school alone as he descended into the little hollow below the man a lively note of music drifted up to meet him it was only the product of the mouth organ manipulated by a little black eyed French Canadian hired boy sitting on the fence by the brook but there was music in a ragged urchin and it came out through his simple coy it tingled over his head and when Leon held out the mouth organ with a paternal boom of indication he snatched at it as a femmish creature like snatched food then with it half way to his lips he passed true it was only the violin it was only the violin he had promised never to touch but he felt that if he gave way ever seen with him to the desire that was in him it would sweep everything before if he played on Leon Buett's mouth organ there in that misty spring veil he would go to Old Abel's bed evening he knew he would go to the end amazing he looked through the mouth organ back at him and ran up the hill as if he were pursued there was something in his boyish face that frightened Leon it frightened Janet Andrews as Felix rushed past her in the hall of the man child what's the matter with you she cried are you sick have you been scared no no leave me alone Janet said Felix choking me dashing up the stairs to his own room he was quite composed when he came down to tea an hour later though he was unusually pale and had purple shadows under his large eye Mr. Leonard scrutinized him somewhat anxiously it suddenly occurred to the old man instead that Felix was looking more delicate than his want this spring he had steady heart all winter he was certainly growing very fast when vacation came he must be sent away for a visit they tell me Naomi Clark is real sick Janet she's been ailing all winter and now she's fast to her bed Mrs. Murphy says she believes the woman is dying but nobody dares tell herself so she won't give in she's sick nor take medicine and there's nobody to wait on her except that simple creature I wonder if I ought to go and see her said Mr. Leonard uneasily what use would it be to bother yourself you know she wouldn't see you she'd shut the door in your face like she did before she's an awful wicked woman but it's kind of terrible to think of her lying more sick with no responsible person to tend her Naomi Clark is a bad woman and she lived a life of shame but I like her for all that remarked Felix in the grave of a sedative tone in which he occasionally said rather startling things Mr. Leonard looked somewhat reproachably at Janet Andrews as if to ask her why Felix should have attained to this dubious knowledge of good and evil under her care and Janet shot a dour look back which being interpreted meant that if Felix went to the district school she could not and would not be held responsible if he learned more there than arithmetic and Latin what do you know of Naomi Clark like she asked curiously did you ever see her oh yes Felix replied addressing himself to his cherry preserve with considerable gusto I was down at Spruce Cove one night last summer when a big thunderstorm came up I went to Naomi's house for shelter the door was open so I walked right in because nobody answered my knock Naomi Clark sat the window watching the cloud coming up over the sea she just looked at me once but didn't say anything I didn't like to sit down because she hadn't asked me to so I went to the window by her and watched it too it was a dreadful sight the cloud was so black and the water so green and there was such a strange light between the cloud and the water yet there was something splendid in it too part of the time I watched the storm the other part I watched Naomi's face it was dreadful to see like a storm and yet I liked to see after the thunder was over it rained a while longer and Naomi sat down and talked to me she asked me who I was and when I told her she asked me to play something for her on her violin Felix shot a deprecating glance at Mr. Leonard because she said she'd heard I was a great hand at it she wanted something lively and I tried just as hard as I could to play something like that but I couldn't I played something that was terrible I just played it self it seemed as if something was lost that could never be found again and before I got through Naomi came at me and tore the violin for me and swore and she said you big-eyed brat how did you know that? then she took me by the arm and she hurt me too I can tell you and she put me right out in the rain and slammed the door the rude, unmanorly creature said Janet indignantly oh no she was quite in the right to do it supposedly served me right for what I played you see she didn't know I couldn't help playing it as the post she thought I did it on purpose what on earth did you play child? I don't know I feel like she would it was dreadful it's good to break your heart I can't even play the ball play anything at all I don't understand what you mean I declare I don't say Janet indignable women I think we'll change the subject of conversation said Mr. Leonard it was a month later when the simple creature Maggie appeared at the man's door one evening and asked for the creature Naomi wants to see her she mumbled Naomi sent Maggie to tell her to come at once I shall go certainly said Mr. Leonard gently is she very ill? her's dying said Maggie with the broad grin and her's awful scared of hell her just knew today where her was dying Maggie told her her wouldn't believe the harbour woman but her believes Maggie who yelled awful Maggie chuckled to herself over the gruesome remember Mr. Leonard his heart filled with pity called Janet and told her to give the poor creature some refreshment but Maggie shook her head no no preacher Maggie must get right back to Naomi Maggie'll tell her the preacher's coming to save her from hell she uttered an eerie cry and ran at full speed shoreward through the spruce wood someone save us said Janet in an odd tone I knew the poor girl was simple so she was like that and are you going sir? yes of course I pray God I may be able to help the poor soul then Mr. Leonard see through he was a man who never shirked what he believed to be his duty but duty had sometimes presented itself to him in pleasanter guise than this summons to Naomi Clark's deathbed the woman had been the play spot of lower Carmody and Carmody harbour for a generation in the earlier days of his ministry to the congregation he had tried to reclaim her and Naomi had mocked and flouted him to his face then for the sake of those to whom she was a snare or a heartbreak he had endeavored to set the law in motion against her and Naomi had laughed a lot to scorn finally he had been compelled to let her alone yet Naomi had not always been an outcast her girlhood had been innocent but she was the possessor of a dangerous beauty and her mother was dead her father was a man notorious for his harshness and violence and temper when Naomi made the fatal mistake of trusting into a false love that betrayed and deserted he drove her from his door with taunts and cursing Naomi took up her quarters in a little deserted house at Spurs Cone had her child lived it might have saved her but it died at birth and with its little life went her last chance of worldly redemption in that time forth her feet were set on hell for the past five years however Naomi had lived a tolerably respectable life when Janet Peterson had died her idiot daughter Maggie had been left with no care for kin in the world nobody knew what was to be done with her for nobody wanted to be bothered with her Naomi Clark went to the girl and offered her a home people said she was no fit person to have charge of Maggie but everybody shirked the unpleasant task of interfering in the matter except Mr Leonard who went to expostulate with Naomi and as Janet said for his pains got her door shut in his face but from the day when Maggie Peterson went to live with her Naomi ceased to be the harbour Magdalene the sun had set when Mr Leonard reached Spurs Cove and the harbour was veiling itself in a wondrous twilight splendour afar out the sea lay throbbing in purple and the moan of the bar the sweet chill spring air with its burden of hopeless endless longing and speaking the sky was blossoming into stars above the afterglow out to the east the moon was rising and the sea beneath it was a thing of radiant and silver and clamour and a little harbour boat that went sailing across it was transmuted into an elfin shell up from the coast of Farina Mr Leonard sighed as he turned from this thin sky to the threshold of Manny Clark's house it was very small one room below and a sleeping loft above but a bed had been made up for the sickleman by the downstairs window looking out on the harbour and Naomi lay on it with a lamp burning at her head and another at her side though it was not yet dark a great dread of darkness had always been one of Manny's peculiarity she was tossing restlessly while Maggie crouched on a box at the foot Mr Leonard had not seen her for five years and he was shocked at the change in her she was much wasted her clear-cut aquiline features had been of the type which becomes indescribably witch-like in all age and though Naomi Clark was barely 60 she looked as if she might be a hundred her hair streamed over the pillow in white uncared-core tresses and the hands that plucked at the bed clothes were like wrinkled claws only her eyes were unchanged they were as blue and blowny together but now filled with such agonized terror and appeal that Mr Leonard's gentle heart almost stood still with the horror of him they were the eyes of a preacher driven wild with torture hounded by fear he percletched by unutterable fear Naomi sat up and dragged at his arm can you help me can you help me she gasped imploringly oh I thought you'd never come I was scared I'd die before you got here die and go to hell I didn't know before today that I was dying none of those cowards would tell me can you help me if I cannot, God can said Mr Leonard gently he felt himself very helpless and inefficient before this awful terror and frenzy he had seen bad deathbeds troubled deathbeds, eye and despairing deathbeds but never anything like this God Naomi's voice shrilled terribly as she uttered the name I can't go to God for help oh I'm scared of hell but I'm scared as still of God I'd rather go to hell a thousand times over than face God after the life I've lived tell you I'm sorry for living wicked I was always sorry for it all the time there ain't never been a moment I wasn't sorry though nobody would believe it I was driven on by themes of hell oh you don't understand you can understand but I was always sorry if you repent that is all that is necessary God will forgive you if you ask him no he can't sins like mine can't be forgiven he can't and he won't he can and he will he's a God of love Naomi no, said Naomi with stubborn conviction he isn't a God of love at all that's why I'm scared of him no, no he's a God of wrath and justice and punishment no, there ain't no such thing as love I've never found it on earth it's to be found in God Naomi, God loves us like a father like my father? Naomi's shrill laughter peeling through the still room he hates to hear the old minister shudder no, no as a kind, tender, all wise man Naomi as he would have loved your little child if it had lived Naomi powered and moaned oh I wish I could believe that frightened if I could believe that make me believe it surely you can make me believe that there's love and forgiveness in God if you believe it yourself Jesus Christ forgave and loved the Magdalene Naomi Jesus Christ oh I ain't afraid of him yes he could understand and forgive he must have human I tell you with God I'm scared of they are one and the same said Mr. Leonard helplessly he knew he could not make Naomi realize it this anguish deathbed was no place for a theological exposition on the mysteries of the trinity Christ died for you Naomi he bore your sins in his own body on the cross we bear our own sins that Naomi says to me I've borne mine all my life and I'll bear them for all eternity I can't believe anything else I can't believe God can forgive me I've ruined people body and soul I've broken hearts and poisoned homes I'm worse than a murderer no no there's no hope for me her voice froze again into that shrill intolerable shriek I've got to go to hell it ain't so much the fire I'm scared of it's the outer darkness I've lost it so scared of darkness the horrible things we thought oh there ain't nobody to help me man ain't no good and I'm too scared of God she wrung her hand Mr. Leonard walked up and down the room in the keenest anguish of spirit he had ever known what could he do what could he say there was healing and peace in his religion for this woman as for all others but he could express it in no language which this tortured soul could understand he looked at her writhing face he looked at the idiot girl chuckling to herself at the foot of the bed he looked through the open door to the remote starlit night and a horrible sense of utter helplessness overcame him he could do nothing in all his life he had never known such bitterness a soul as the realization brought home to him what would the good of you if you can't help me moan to dying woman pray pray she shrilled suddenly Mr. Leonard dropped on the truth by the bed he did not know what to say no prayer that he had ever prayed was abused here the old beautiful formulas which had soothed and helped the passing of many a soul were not safe idle empty words to Naomi Clark in his anguish of mind Steven Leonard gasped out the briefest and sincerest prayer his lips had ever uttered oh God her father help this woman speak to her in a tongue which she can understand a beautiful white face appeared for a moment in the light that streamed out of the doorway into the darkness of the night no one noticed it and it quickly drew back into the shadow suddenly Naomi fell back on her pillow her face horribly pinched her eyes rolled up in her head Maggie started up pushed Mr. Leonard aside and proceeded to administer some remedy with surprising skill and deafening Mr. Leonard believing Naomi to be dying went to the door feeling thick and bruised and full presently a figure stole out into the light Felix is that you said Mr. Leonard in a startled tone yes sir Felix came up to the stone step Janet got frightened that you might fall on that rough road after dark so she made me come after you with a lantern I've been waiting behind the point but at last I thought I'd better come and see if you'd be staying much longer if you will be I'll go back to Janet and leave the lantern here with you yes that will be the best thing to do I may not be ready to go home for some time yet said Mr. Leonard thinking that the death bed is thin behind him there's no slight for Felix to deny is that your grandson you're talking to Naomi spoke clearly and strongly the spasm had passed if it is bring him in I want to see him reluctantly Mr. Leonard find Felix to enter the boy stood by Naomi's bed and looked down at her with her pathetic eye but at first she did not look at him she looked past him at the minister I might have died in that spell she said looked far and approaching her voice and if I had I'd been in hell now you can't help me end anything Harry didn't help me and I know it now she turned to feel it take down that fiddle on the wall and play something for me she said empirically I'm dying and I'm going to hell and I don't want to think about it play me something to take my thoughts off it I don't care what you play I was always fond of music I was always something that you call me I never found anywhere else Felix looked at his grandfather the old man Naughty he felt too ashamed to speak he sat with his fine silver head in his hand while Felix took down the two little violin on which so many gobless loops have been played in many a wild bubble Mr. Leonard felt that he had failed his revision he could not give Naomi the help that was in it for him Felix drew the bow softly perplexed me over the string he had no idea what he should play then his eyes were caught and held by Naomi's burning Nesmark blew gay as she lay on his crumpled pillow a strange inspired look came up the boy's face he began to play as if it were not he who played but some mightier power of which he was what the passive instrument breathed and soft and wonderful with the music that stole through the room Mr. Leonard forgot his heartbreak and listened to it in puzzled amazement he had never heard anything like it before how could the child play like that he looked at Naomi and marveled at the change in her face the fear and frenzy were going out of it she listened breathlessly never taking her eyes from Felix at the foot of the bed the idiot girl's fat little tears on her cheeks in that strange music was the joy of innocent, mirthful childhood blunt with the laughter of waves and the call of Gladwin then it held a wild way were dreams of youth sweet and pure in all their wildness and waywardness they were followed by a rapture of young love all surrendering all sacrifice and love the music changed it held the torture of onshed tears the anguish of a heart deceived and desolated Mr. Leonard almost put his hands over his ears to shut out its intolerable poignancy but on the dying woman's face was only a strange relief as if some dumb long hidden pain had at last worn to the healing of utter the sullen indifference of despair came next the bitterness of smoldering revolt and misery the reckless casting away of all good there was something indescribably evil in the music now so evil that Mr. Leonard's white full shuttered away and loathing and Maggie cowered and whined like a frightened animal again the music changed and in it now there was agony and fear and repentance and a cry for pardon to Mr. Leonard there was something strangely familiar in it he struggled to recall where he had heard it before then he suddenly knew he had heard it before Felix came in Naomi's terrible word he looked at his grandson with something like awe here was the power of which he knew nothing a strange and dreadful power was it of God or of Satan for the last time the music changed and now it was not music at all it was a great infinite forgiveness an all comprehending love it was healing for a sick soul it was light and hope and peace a bible text seemingly incongruous came into Mr. Leonard's mind this is the house of God he's the gate of heaven Felix lowered the violin and dropped weirdly on a chair by the bed the inspired light faded from his face once more he was only a tired boy but Stephen Leonard was on his feet sobbing like a child and Naomi's heart was lying still with her hands clasped over her breast I understand now she said very softly I couldn't see it before and now it's so plain I just feel it God is a God of love he can forgive anybody even me he knows all about it I am scared anymore he just loves me and forgives me as I'd have loved and forgiven my baby if she'd lived no matter how bad she was or what she did minister told me that but I couldn't believe it I know it now I'm here tonight boy to tell it to me in a way that I could feel it Naomi Clark died just as the dawn came up over the sea Mr. Leonard rose from his watch at her bedside and went to the door before him lay the harbor gray and austere in the faint light but afar out the sun was rending asunder the mill quite mist in which the sea was carved and under it was a virgin glow sparkling water the fir trees on the point moved softly and whispered together the whole world sang of spring and resurrection and life and behind him, Naomi Clark's dead faith took on the peace that passes understanding the old minister and his grandson walked home together in the silence that neither wished to break Janet Andrews gave him a good scolding and an excellent breakfast then she ordered them both to bed but Mr. Leonard smiling at her said presently Janet presently but now take this key go up to the black chest in the garret and bring me what you will find there when Janet had gone he turned to Felix Felix, would you like to study music as your life works? Felix looked up with a transfiguring flash on his long face oh grandfather oh grandfather you may do so my child after this night I dare not injure you go with my blessing and make God guiding and keep you and make you strong to do his work and tell his message to humanity in your own appointed way it is not the way I decided for you but I see that I was mistaken Old Abel spoke truly when he said there was a Christ in your violin as well as a devil I understand that he meant now he turned to meet Janet who came into the study with a violin Felix's heart throbbed Mr Leonard took it from Janet and held it out to the boy this is your father's violin, Felix see to it that you never make your music the servant of the power of evil never debase it to unworthy end for your responsibility is as your gift and God will exact the accounting of it from you speak to the world in your own tongue through it with truth and sincerity and all I have hoped for you will be abundantly fulfilled in his own tongue by L. M. Montgomery