Ravenshoe. By Henry Kingsley.

THE FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE NEW WORLD. 145
and I tried to'play on it; I blew for him, and he sounded two or
three notes, but it frightened us, and we ran away, and never
went near it again."
" It is a beautiful old instrument," said young Tiernay; "will
you stand just here, and listen to it? "
Charles stood in one of the windows, and Father Tiernay
beside him. He leant his head on his arm, and looked forth eastward and northward, over the rolling woods, the cliffs, and the
bright blue sea.
The music began with a movement soft, low, melodious, beyond
expression, and yet strong, firm, and regular as of a thousand
armed men marching to victory. It grew in volume and power
till it was irresistible, yet still harmonious and perfect. Charles
understood it. It was the life of a just man growing towards
perfection and honor.
It wavered and fluttered, and threw itself into sparkling sprays
and eddies. It leapt and laughed with joy unutterable, yet still
through all the solemn measure went on. Love had come to
gladden the perfect life, and had adorned without disturbing it.
Then began discords and wild sweeping storms of sound, harsh
always, but never unmelodious; fainter and fainter grew the melody, till it was almost lost. Misfortunes had come upon the just
man, and he was bending under them.
No. More majestic, more grand, more solemn than ever, the
melody reasserted itself: and again, as though purified by a furnace, marched solemnly on with a clearness and sweetness greater
than at first. The just man had emerged from his sea of troubles
ennobled. Charles felt a hand on his shoulder. He thought it
had been Father Tiernay. Father Tiernay was gone. It was
Cuthbert.
" Cuthbert! I am so glad you have come to see me. I was
not surprised because you would not see me before. You did n't
think I was offended, brother, did you? I know you. I know
you!"
Charles smoothed his hair, and smiled pleasantly upon him.
Cuthbert stood quite still and said nothing.
" Cuthbert," said Charles, "you are in pain. In bodily pain I
mean."
"I am. I spent last night on these stones praying, and the.
cold has got into my very bones."
"You pray for the dead, I know," said Charles. "But why
destroy the health God has given you because a good man has
gone to sleep?"
"I was not praying for him so much as for you."
"God knows I want it, dear Cuthbert. But can you benefit
me by killing yourself?"
7 J