按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
though by so doing it was necessary to advance a little into the
rain。
'Look； the rain is coming into the porch upon you；' he said。 'Step
inside the door。'
Cytherea hesitated。
'Perfectly safe； I assure you；' he added； laughing； and holding the
door open。 'You shall see what a state of disorganization I am in
boxes on boxes； furniture； straw； crockery； in every form of
transposition。 An old woman is in the back quarters somewhere；
beginning to put things to rights。 。 。 。 You know the inside of the
house； I dare say？'
'I have never been in。'
'O well； come along。 Here； you see； they have made a door through；
here； they have put a partition dividing the old hall into two； one
part is now my parlour； there they have put a plaster ceiling；
hiding the old chestnut…carved roof because it was too high and
would have been chilly for me； you see； being the original hall； it
was open right up to the top； and here the lord of the manor and his
retainers used to meet and be merry by the light from the monstrous
fire which shone out from that monstrous fire…place； now narrowed to
a mere nothing for my grate； though you can see the old outline
still。 I almost wish I could have had it in its original state。'
'With more romance and less comfort。'
'Yes； exactly。 Well； perhaps the wish is not deep…seated。 You will
see how the things are tumbled in anyhow； packing…cases and all。
The only piece of ornamental furniture yet unpacked is this one。'
'An organ？'
'Yes； an organ。 I made it myself； except the pipes。 I opened the
case this afternoon to commence soothing myself at once。 It is not
a very large one； but quite big enough for a private house。 You
play； I dare say？'
'The piano。 I am not at all used to an organ。'
'You would soon acquire the touch for an organ； though it would
spoil your touch for the piano。 Not that that matters a great deal。
A piano isn't much as an instrument。'
'It is the fashion to say so now。 I think it is quite good enough。'
'That isn't altogether a right sentiment about things being good
enough。'
'Nono。 What I mean is； that the men who despise pianos do it as a
rule from their teeth； merely for fashion's sake； because cleverer
men have said it before themnot from the experience of their
ears。'
Now Cytherea all at once broke into a blush at the consciousness of
a great snub she had been guilty of in her eagerness to explain
herself。 He charitably expressed by a look that he did not in the
least mind her blunder； if it were one； and this attitude forced him
into a position of mental superiority which vexed her。
'I play for my private amusement only；' he said。 'I have never
learned scientifically。 All I know is what I taught myself。'
The thunder； lightning； and rain had now increased to a terrific
force。 The clouds； from which darts； forks； zigzags； and balls of
fire continually sprang； did not appear to be more than a hundred
yards above their heads； and every now and then a flash and a peal
made gaps in the steward's descriptions。 He went towards the organ；
in the midst of a volley which seemed to shake the aged house from
foundations to chimney。
'You are not going to play now； are you？' said Cytherea uneasily。
'O yes。 Why not now？' he said。 'You can't go home； and therefore
we may as well be amused； if you don't mind sitting on this box。
The few chairs I have unpacked are in the other room。'
Without waiting to see whether she sat down or not； he turned to the
organ and began extemporizing a harmony which meandered through
every variety of expression of which the instrument was capable。
Presently he ceased and began searching for some music…book。
'What a splendid flash！' he said； as the lightning again shone in
through the mullioned window； which； of a proportion to suit the
whole extent of the original hall； was much too large for the
present room。 The thunder pealed again。 Cytherea； in spite of
herself； was frightened； not only at the weather； but at the general
unearthly weirdness which seemed to surround her there。
'I wish Ithe lightning wasn't so bright。 Do you think it will
last long？' she said timidly。
'It can't last much longer；' he murmured； without turning； running
his fingers again over the keys。 'But this is nothing；' he
continued； suddenly stopping and regarding her。 'It seems brighter
because of the deep shadow under those trees yonder。 Don't mind it；
now look at melook in my facenow。'
He had faced the window； looking fixedly at the sky with his dark
strong eyes。 She seemed compelled to do as she was bidden； and
looked in the too…delicately beautiful face。
The flash came； but he did not turn or blink； keeping his eyes fixed
as firmly as before。 'There；' he said； turning to her； 'that's the
way to look at lightning。'
'O； it might have blinded you！' she exclaimed。
'Nonsensenot lightning of this sortI shouldn't have stared at it
if there had been danger。 It is only sheet…lightning now。 Now；
will you have another piece？ Something from an oratorio this time？'
'No； thank youI don't want to hear it whilst it thunders so。' But
he had begun without heeding her answer； and she stood motionless
again； marvelling at the wonderful indifference to all external
circumstance which was now evinced by his complete absorption in the
music before him。
'Why do you play such saddening chords？' she said； when he next
paused。
'H'mbecause I like them； I suppose；' said he lightly。 'Don't you
like sad impressions sometimes？'
'Yes； sometimes； perhaps。'
'When you are full of trouble。'
'Yes。'
'Well； why shouldn't I when I am full of trouble？'
'Are you troubled？'
'I am troubled。' He said this thoughtfully and abruptlyso
abruptly that she did not push the dialogue further。
He now played more powerfully。 Cytherea had never heard music in
the completeness of full orchestral power； and the tones of the
organ； which reverberated with considerable effect in the
comparatively small space of the room； heightened by the elemental
strife of light and sound outside； moved her to a degree out of
proportion to the actual power of the mere notes； practised as was
the hand that produced them。 The varying strainsnow loud； now
soft； simple； complicated； weird； touching； grand； boisterous；
subdued； each phase distinct； yet modulating into the next with a
graceful and easy flowshook and bent her to themselves； as a
gushing brook shakes and bends a shadow cast across its surface。
The power of the music did not show itself so much by attracting her
attention to the subject of the piece； as by taking up and
developing as its libretto the poem of her own life and soul；
shifting her deeds and intentions from the hands of her judgment and
holding them in its own。
She was swayed into emotional opinions concerning the strange man
before her； new impulses of thought came with new harmonies； and
entered into her with a gnawing thrill。 A dreadful flash of
lightning then； and the thunder close upon it。 She found herself
involuntarily shrinking up beside him； and looking with parted lips
at his face。
He turned his eyes and saw her emotion；