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'Praise be thankit；' then； without another word； turned and went to
his lonely stool and home 'untreasured of its mistress。' Robert
went home too； and stole like a thief to his room。
The next day was a Saturday； which； indeed； was the real old
Sabbath； or at least the half of it； to the schoolboys of Rothieden。
Even Robert's grannie was Jew enough； or rather Christian enough；
to respect this remnant of the fourth commandmentdivine antidote
to the rest of the godless money…making and soul…saving weekand he
had the half…day to himself。 So as soon as he had had his dinner；
he managed to give Shargar the slip； left him to the inroads of a
desolate despondency； and stole away to the old factory…garden。 The
key of that he had managed to purloin from the kitchen where it
hung； nor was there much danger of its absence being discovered；
seeing that in winter no one thought of the garden。 The smuggling
of the violin out of the house was the 'dearest danger'the more so
that he would not run the risk of carrying her out unprotected； and
it was altogether a bulky venture with the case。 But by spying and
speeding he managed it； and soon found himself safe within the high
walls of the garden。
It was early spring。 There had been a heavy fall of sleet in the
morning； and now the wind blew gustfully about the place。 The
neglected trees shook showers upon him as he passed under them；
trampling down the rank growth of the grass…walks。 The long twigs
of the wall…trees； which had never been nailed up； or had been torn
down by the snow and the blasts of winter； went trailing away in the
moan of the fitful wind； and swung back as it sunk to a sigh。 The
currant and gooseberry bushes； bare and leafless； and 'shivering all
for cold；' neither reminded him of the feasts of the past summer；
nor gave him any hope for the next。 He strode careless through it
all to gain the door at the bottom。 It yielded to a push； and the
long grass streamed in over the threshold as he entered。 He mounted
by a broad stair in the main part of the house； passing the silent
clock in one of its corners； now expiating in motionlessness the
false accusations it had brought against the work…people； and turned
into the chaos of machinery。
I fear that my readers will expect； from the minuteness with which I
recount these particulars； that； after all； I am going to describe a
rendezvous with a lady； or a ghost at least。 I will not plead in
excuse that I； too； have been infected with Sandy's mode of
regarding her； but I plead that in the mind of Robert the proceeding
was involved in something of that awe and mystery with which a youth
approaches the woman he loves。 He had not yet arrived at the period
when the feminine assumes its paramount influence； combining in
itself all that music； colour； form； odour； can suggest； with
something infinitely higher and more divine； but he had begun to be
haunted with some vague aspirations towards the infinite； of which
his attempts on the violin were the outcome。 And now that he was to
be alone； for the first time； with this wonderful realizer of dreams
and awakener of visions； to do with her as he would； to hint by
gentle touches at the thoughts that were fluttering in his soul； and
listen for her voice that by the echoes in which she strove to
respond he might know that she understood him； it was no wonder if
he felt an ethereal foretaste of the expectation that haunts the
approach of souls。
But I am not even going to describe his first tête…à…tête with his
violin。 Perhaps he returned from it somewhat disappointed。
Probably he found her coy； unready to acknowledge his demands on
her attention。 But not the less willingly did he return with her to
the solitude of the ruinous factory。 On every safe occasion；
becoming more and more frequent as the days grew longer； he repaired
thither； and every time returned more capable of drawing the
coherence of melody from that matrix of sweet sounds。
At length the people about began to say that the factory was
haunted； that the ghost of old Mr。 Falconer； unable to repose while
neglect was ruining the precious results of his industry； visited
the place night after night； and solaced his disappointment by
renewing on his favourite violin strains not yet forgotten by him in
his grave； and remembered well by those who had been in his service；
not a few of whom lived in the neighbourhood of the forsaken
building。
One gusty afternoon； like the first； but late in the spring； Robert
repaired as usual to this his secret haunt。 He had played for some
time； and now； from a sudden pause of impulse； had ceased； and begun
to look around him。 The only light came from two long pale cracks
in the rain…clouds of the west。 The wind was blowing through the
broken windows； which stretched away on either hand。 A dreary；
windy gloom； therefore； pervaded the desolate place； and in the
dusk； and their settled order； the machines looked multitudinous。
An eerie sense of discomfort came over him as he gazed； and he
lifted his violin to dispel the strange unpleasant feeling that grew
upon him。 But at the first long stroke across the strings； an awful
sound arose in the further room； a sound that made him all but drop
the bow； and cling to his violin。 It went on。 It was the old； all
but forgotten whirr of bobbins； mingled with the gentle groans of
the revolving horizontal wheel； but magnified in the silence of the
place； and the echoing imagination of the boy； into something
preternaturally awful。 Yielding for a moment to the growth of
goose…skin； and the insurrection of hair； he recovered himself by a
violent effort； and walked to the door that connected the two
compartments。 Was it more or less fearful that the jenny was not
going of itself？ that the figure of an old woman sat solemnly
turning and turning the hand…wheel？ Not without calling in the jury
of his senses； however； would he yield to the special plea of his
imagination； but went nearer； half expecting to find that the mutch；
with its big flapping borders； glimmering white in the gloom across
many a machine； surrounded the face of a skull。 But he was soon
satisfied that it was only a blind woman everybody knewso old that
she had become childish。 She had heard the reports of the factory
being haunted； and groping about with her half…withered brain full
of them； had found the garden and the back door open； and had
climbed to the first…floor by a farther stair； well known to her
when she used to work that very machine。 She had seated herself
instinctively； according to ancient wont； and had set it in motion
once more。
Yielding to an impulse of experiment； Robert began to play again。
Thereupon her disordered ideas broke out in words。 And Robert soon
began to feel that it could hardly be more ghastly to look upon a
ghost than to be taken for one。
'Ay； ay； sir；' said the old woman； in a tone of commiser