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the doctor's part a very meagre performancethey retired to his
room again； and then Robert found the table covered with a snowy
cloth； and wine and fruits arranged upon it。
It was far into the night before he rose to go home。 As he passed
through a thick rain of pin…point drops； he felt that although those
cold granite houses； with glimmering dead face； stood like rows of
sepulchres； he was in reality walking through an avenue of homes。
Wet to the skin long before he reached Mrs。 Fyvie's in the auld
toon； he was notwithstanding as warm as the under side of a bird's
wing。 For he had to sit down and write to his grandmother informing
her that Dr。 Anderson had employed him to copy for the printers a
book of his upon the Medical Boards of India； and that as he was
going to pay him for that and other work at a rate which would
secure him ten shillings a week； it would be a pity to lose a year
for the chance of getting a bursary next winter。
The doctor did want the manuscript copied； and he knew that the only
chance of getting Mrs。 Falconer's consent to Robert's receiving any
assistance from him； was to make some business arrangement of the
sort。 He wrote to her the same night； and after mentioning the
unexpected pleasure of Robert's visit； not only explained the
advantage to himself of the arrangement he had proposed； but set
forth the greater advantage to Robert； inasmuch as he would thus be
able in some measure to keep a hold of him。 He judged that although
Mrs。 Falconer had no great opinion of his religion； she would yet
consider his influence rather on the side of good than otherwise in
the case of a boy else abandoned to his own resources。
The end of it all was that his grandmother yielded； and Robert was
straightway a Bejan； or Yellow…beak。
Three days had he been clothed in the red gown of the Aberdeen
student； and had attended the Humanity and Greek class…rooms。 On
the evening of the third day he was seated at his table preparing
his Virgil for the next； when he found himself growing very weary；
and no wonder； for； except the walk of a few hundred yards to and
from the college； he had had no open air for those three days。 It
was raining in a persistent November fashion； and he thought of the
sea； away through the dark and the rain； tossing uneasily。 Should
he pay it a visit？ He sat for a moment；
This way and that dividing the swift mind；4
when his eye fell on his violin。 He had been so full of his new
position and its requirements； that he had not touched it since the
session opened。 Now it was just what he wanted。 He caught it up
eagerly； and began to play。 The power of the music seized upon him；
and he went on playing； forgetful of everything else； till a string
broke。 It was all too short for further use。 Regardless of the
rain or the depth of darkness to be traversed before he could find a
music…shop； he caught up his cap； and went to rush from the house。
His door opened immediately on the top step of the stair； without
any landing。 There was a door opposite； to which likewise a few
steps led immediately up。 The stairs from the two doors united a
little below。 So near were the doors that one might stride across
the fork。 The opposite door was open； and in it stood Eric Ericson。
CHAPTER VII。
ERIC ERICSON。
Robert sprang across the dividing chasm； clasped Ericson's hand in
both of his； looked up into his face； and stood speechless。 Ericson
returned the salute with a still kindnesstender and still。 His
face was like a gray morning sky of summer from whose level
cloud…fields rain will fall before noon。
'So it was you；' he said； 'playing the violin so well？'
'I was doin' my best；' answered Robert。 'But eh！ Mr。 Ericson； I wad
hae dune better gin I had kent ye was hearkenin'。'
'You couldn't do better than your best；' returned Eric； smiling。
'Ay； but yer best micht aye grow better； ye ken；' persisted Robert。
'Come into my room；' said Ericson。 'This is Friday night； and there
is nothing but chapel to…morrow。 So we'll have talk instead of
work。'
In another moment they were seated by a tiny coal fire in a room one
side of which was the slope of the roof； with a large； low skylight
in it looking seawards。 The sound of the distant waves； unheard in
Robert's room； beat upon the drum of the skylight； through all the
world of mist that lay between it and themdimly； vaguelybut ever
and again with a swell of gathered force； that made the distant
tumult doubtful no more。
'I am sorry I have nothing to offer you；' said Ericson。
'You remind me of Peter and John at the Beautiful Gate of the
temple；' returned Robert； attempting to speak English like the
Northerner； but breaking down as his heart got the better of him。
'Eh！ Mr。 Ericson； gin ye kent what it is to me to see the face o'
ye； ye wadna speyk like that。 Jist lat me sit an' leuk at ye。 I
want nae mair。'
A smile broke up the cold； sad； gray light of the young eagle…face。
Stern at once and gentle when in repose； its smile was as the
summer of some lovely land where neither the heat nor the sun shall
smite them。 The youth laid his hand upon the boy's head； then
withdrew it hastily； and the smile vanished like the sun behind a
cloud。 Robert saw it； and as if he had been David before Saul； rose
instinctively and said；
'I'll gang for my fiddle。Hoots！ I hae broken ane o' the strings。
We maun bide till the morn。 But I want nae fiddle mysel' whan I
hear the great water oot there。'
'You're young yet； my boy； or you might hear voices in that water！
I've lived in the sound of it all my days。 When I can't rest at
night； I hear a moaning and crying in the dark； and I lie and listen
till I can't tell whether I'm a man or some God…forsaken sea in the
sunless north。'
'Sometimes I believe in naething but my fiddle；' answered Robert。
'Yes； yes。 But when it comes into you； my boy！ You won't hear much
music in the cry of the sea after that。 As long as you've got it at
arm's length； it's all very well。 It's interesting then； and you
can talk to your fiddle about it； and make poetry about it；' said
Ericson； with a smile of self…contempt。 'But as soon as the real
earnest comes that is all over。 The sea…moan is the cry of a
tortured world then。 Its hollow bed is the cup of the world's pain；
ever rolling from side to side and dashing over its lip。 Of all
that might be； ought to be； nothing to be had！I could get music
out of it once。 Look here。 I could trifle like that once。'
He half rose； then dropped on his chair。 But Robert's believing
eyes justified confidence； and Ericson had never had any one to talk
to。 He rose again； opened a cupboard at his side； took out some
papers； threw them on the table； and； taking his hat； walked towards
the door。
'Which of your strings is broken？' he asked。
'The third；' answered Robert。