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communications to the cheerful fire； like a new…hatched gosling
beginning to find itself comfortable。 But presently the warmth had
a lulling effect； and the little golden head sank down on the old
sack； and the blue eyes were veiled by their delicate half…
transparent lids。
But where was Silas Marner while this strange visitor had come
to his hearth？ He was in the cottage； but he did not see the child。
During the last few weeks； since he had lost his money； he had
contracted the habit of opening his door and looking out from time
to time； as if he thought that his money might be somehow coming
back to him； or that some trace； some news of it； might be
mysteriously on the road； and be caught by the listening ear or the
straining eye。 It was chiefly at night； when he was not occupied in
his loom； that he fell into this repetition of an act for which he
could have assigned no definite purpose； and which can hardly be
understood except by those who have undergone a bewildering
separation from a supremely loved object。 In the evening twilight；
and later whenever the night was not dark； Silas looked out on
that narrow prospect round the Stone…pits； listening and gazing；
not with hope； but with mere yearning and unrest。
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This morning he had been told by some of his neighbours that
it was New Year’s Eve； and that he must sit up and hear the old
year rung out and the new rung in； because that was good luck；
and might bring his money back again。 This was only a friendly
Raveloe…way of jesting with the half…crazy oddities of a miser； but
it had perhaps helped to throw Silas into a more than usually
excited state。 Since the oncoming of twilight he had opened his
door again and again； though only to shut it immediately at seeing
all distance veiled by the falling snow。 But the last time he opened
it the snow had ceased； and the clouds were parting here and
there。 He stood and listened； and gazed for a long while—there
was really something on the road coming towards him then； but he
caught no sign of it； and the stillness and the wide trackless snow
seemed to narrow his solitude； and touched his yearning with the
chill of despair。 He went in again； and put his right hand on the
latch of the door to close it—but he did not close it： he was
arrested； as he had been already since his loss； by the invisible
wand of catalepsy； and stood like a graven image； with wide but
sightless eyes； holding open his door； powerless to resist either the
good or evil that might enter there。
When Marner’s sensibility returned； he continued the action
which had been arrested； and closed his door； unaware of the
chasm in his consciousness； unaware of any intermediate change；
except that the light had grown dim； and that he was chilled and
faint。 He thought he had been too long standing at the door and
looking out。 Turning towards the hearth； where the two logs had
fallen apart； and sent forth only a red uncertain glimmer； he
seated himself on his fireside chair； and was stooping to push his
logs together； when； to his blurred vision； it seemed as if there
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Silas Marner 150
were gold on the floor in front of the hearth。 Gold！—his own
gold—brought back to him as mysteriously as it had been taken
away！ He felt his heart begin to beat violently； and for a few
moments he was unable to stretch out his hand and grasp the
restored treasure。 The heap of gold seemed to glow and get larger
beneath his agitated gaze。 He leaned forward at last； and stretched
forth his hand； but instead of the hard coin with the familiar
resisting outline； his fingers encountered soft warm curls。 In utter
amazement； Silas fell on his knees and bent his head low to
examine the marvel： it was a sleeping child—a round； fair thing；
with soft yellow rings all over its head。 Could this be his little sister
come back to him in a dream—his little sister whom he had
carried about in his arms for a year before she died； when he was a
small boy without shoes or stockings？ That was the first thought
that darted across Silas’s blank wonderment。 Was it a dream？ He
rose to his feet again； pushed his logs together； and； throwing on
some dried leaves and sticks； raised a flame； but the flame did not
disperse the vision—it only lit up more distinctly the little round
form of the child； and its shabby clothing。 It was very much like
his little sister。 Silas sank into his chair powerless； under the
double presence of an inexplicable surprise and a hurrying influx
of memories。 How and when had the child come in without his
knowledge？ He had never been beyond the door。 But along with
that question； and almost thrusting it away； there was a vision of
the old home and the old streets leading to Lantern Yard—and
within that vision another； of the thoughts which had been present
with him in those far…off scenes。 The thoughts were strange to him
now； like old friendships impossible to revive； and yet he had a
dreamy feeling that this child was somehow a message come to
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Silas Marner 151
him from that far…off life： it stirred fibres that had never been
moved in Raveloe—old quiverings of tenderness—old impressions
of awe at the presentiment of some Power presiding over his life；
for his imagination had not yet extricated itself from the sense of
mystery in the child’s sudden presence； and had formed no
conjectures of ordinary natural means by which the event could
have been brought about。
But there was a