Charles Auchester - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Charles Auchester Volume I Part 26 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"Who told you he has a Jew-beard? Nevertheless he has a beard; but pray hold your tongue about the Jews,--at least till you know him a little better."
"I do not mean," thought I diffidently, "to talk to the old gentleman.
If he is a Jew I shall know it, and it will be enough;" but I did not say so to Santonio, who did not appear to prize his lineage as I did the half of mine. My heart began to beat faster than from the steep ascent, when he, without preparing me further, rapped very vigorously upon another unseen door. I heard no voice reply, but I concluded he did, as he deliberately turned the lock, and drew me immediately after him as I had shrunk behind him. I need not have been afraid,--the room was empty. It was a room full of dusky light; that is, all tones which blended into it were dim, and its quaint nicety put every new-world notion out of the way for the time. The candles upon the table were brightly trimmed, but not wax,--only slender wax ones beamed in twisted sconces from the desk of an organ that took up the whole side of the room, opposing us as we entered, and whose pipes were to my imagining childhood lost in the clouds, indeed, for the roof of the room had been broken to admit them. The double key-board, open, glittered black and white, and I was only too glad to be able to examine it as closely as I wished. The room had no carpet, but I did not miss it or want it, for the floor was satin bright with polish, and its general effect was ebony, while that of the furniture was oak.
There was a curious large closet in a corner, like another little room put away into this one; but what surprised me most was that the chamber was left to itself.
"Where is he?" said Santonio, appealing to the silence; but then he seemed to be reminded, and shouted very loud in German some name I could not realize, but which I write, having since realized.
"Aronach![13] where art thou?"
In German, and very loud, a voice replied, as coming down the organ-pipes: "I am aloft chastising an evil spirit; nor will I descend until I have packed the devil downstairs." At this instant, more at hand than the sound I had met upon the staircase, there was a wail as of a violin in pain; but I could not tell whether it was a fiddle or a child, until the wail, in continuing, s.h.i.+fted from semitone to semitone.
Santonio sat down in one of the chairs and laughed; then arose, having recovered himself, and observed, "If this is his behavior, I may as well go and see after your boxes. Keep yourself here till I come back; but if he come down, salute him in German, and it will be all right."
He retired and I remained; and now I resolved to have another good look. One side of the room I had not yet examined. Next the door I found a trio or quartet of three-legged stools, fixed one into the other, and nearest them a harpsichord,--a very harpsichord with crooked legs. It was covered with baize, and a pile of music-books reposed upon the baize, besides some antique instrument-cases. Other and larger cases were on the floor beneath the harpsichord; there hung a talisman or two of glittering bra.s.s upon the wall, by floating ribbons of red.
Then I fastened myself upon the pictures, and those strange wreaths of withered leaves that waved between them, and whose searest hues befitted well their vicinage. As I stood beneath those pictures, those dead-brown garlands rustled as if my light breath had been the autumn wind. I was stricken at once with melancholy and romance, but I understood not clearly the precise charm of those relics, or my melancholy would have lost itself in romance alone.
There was one portrait of Bach. I knew it again, though it was a worthier hint of him than Davy's; and underneath that portrait was something of the same kind, which vividly fascinated me by its subject. It was a very young head, almost that of an infant, lying, rather than bending, over an oblong book, such in shape as those represented in pictures of literary cherubs. The face was more than half forehead, which the cl.u.s.tering locks could not conceal, though they strove to shadow; and in revenge, the hair swept back and tumbled sideways, curling into the very swell of the tender shoulder. The countenance was of sun-bright witchery, l.u.s.trous as an elf of summer laughing out of a full-blown rose. Tiny hands were doubled round the book, and the lips wore themselves a smile that seemed to stir and dimple, and to flutter those floating ringlets. It was strange I was, though so unutterably drawn to it, in nothing reminded of any child or man I had ever seen, but merely thought it an ideal of the infant music, if music could personate infancy. After a long, long gaze I looked away, expressly to have the delight of returning to it; and then I saw the stove and approved of it, instead of missing, as I was told at home I should miss, the hearthrug and roseate fire-s.h.i.+ne.
Indeed, the stove was much more in keeping here, according to my outlandish taste.
Before I returned to the picture Santonio re-entered, and finding me still alone, took up a broom which he discovered in some region, and, mounted on a chair, made with it no very gentle demonstrations upon the ceiling, which was low, and which he could thus easily reach. In about ten minutes more, I could feel, no less than hear, a footstep I did not know, for I am generally cognizant of footsteps. This was cautious and slow, yet not heavy; and I was aware it could be none other than that of my master presumptive. If I could have turned myself into a mustard-pot, to delay my introduction, I would have done so without the slightest hesitation; but no! I remained myself, and he, all himself, opened the door and came in. I had expected a tall man,--broad; here was a little gentleman no bigger than Davy, with a firm and defiant tread, clad in a garment that wrapped about his feet, in color brown, that pa.s.sed well into the atmosphere of his cave. He confronted Santonio as if that wonder were a little girl in petticoats, with no more reverence and not less benevolence, for he laid one arm upon his shoulder and embraced him, as in England only very young and tender brothers embrace, or a son embraces his father.
There was complaisance together with condescension in his aspect; but when he turned upon me, both complaisance and condescension were overpast, and a lour of indifference clouded my very faculties as with a film of worldly fear. Then he chucked me under the chin, and held me by it a moment without my being aware whether he examined me or not, so conveniently disposed were his black eye-lashes; and then he let me go again, and turned his back upon me.
"Sit!" said he to Santonio; and then he threw his hand behind him, and pointing, without turning his head, indicated the group of stools. I nervously disentangled one and sat down upon it then and there by the side of the very harpsichord. Santonio being also seated, and wearing, though as cool as usual, a less dominant aspect, the brisk demon marched to the bureau, which I had taken little heed of, under the window, but which, upon his opening, I discovered to be full of all sorts of drawers and pigeon-holes, where a family of young mice would have enjoyed a game at hide-and-seek. He stood there writing, without any apology, for some time, and only left off when a female servant, brilliant and stolid as a Dutch doll, threw the door open again to bring in supper.
She carried both tureens and dishes, and went into the closet after bottles of wine and a tablecloth; and everything she did was very orderly, and done very quietly. She spoke to Aronach, having arranged the table; and he arose, wiped his pen, and closed the bureau. Then he came to Santonio, and addressed him in most beautiful clear German, such German as was my mother's mother-tongue.
"I travelled very comfortably, thank you," said Santonio, in reply to some inquiry suggestive of the journey, "and I am glad to see you younger than ever."
"Oh! my sort don't die; we are tough as hempen cloth. It is _that_ make which frets itself threadbare,"--he pointed obviously at me.
"What is to be done with him, eh?"
"To be left here, of course, as we agreed."
"Recollect my conditions. I turn him out if he become ill."
"Oh! he is very well indeed; they are all pale in England, they have no sun."
"_Be_ well then!" said Aronach, threateningly, yet not terrifyingly, "and _keep_ well!"
What a silvery stream swept over his s.h.i.+rt-bosom! it was soft as whitest moonlight. "Is that a beard?" thought I--"how beautiful must the high-priest have looked!" This thought still touched me, when in came a boy in a blouse, and I heard no more of his practice as I now recognized it, though the wail still came from above, fitful and woebegone. This boy was tall and slender, and his face, though he had an elegant head, was too formed and adult to be agreeable or very taking for me. His only expression was that of haughty self-content; but there was no real pride in his bearing, and no reserve. His hands were large, but very well articulated and extremely white; there was no spirit in them, and no spirituality in his aspect. He took no notice of me, except to curl his upper lip--which was not short, and which a curl did not become--as he lifted a second stool and carried it up to the table; nor did he wait to be asked to sit down upon it, and having done so, to smooth his hair off his forehead and lean his elbows upon the table. Then Aronach took a chair, and admonished Santonio to do the same. The latter made himself instantly at home, but most charmingly so, and began to help himself from a dish directly. The young gentleman upon the stool was just about to lift the cover from the tureen in the same style, when Aronach roused, and looking grandly upon him said, or rather muttered, "Where are thy manners? Is it thy place in my house to ape my guests? See to thy companion there, who is wearier than thou, and yet he waits. Go and bring him up, or thou shalt give thy supper to the cat's daughter."
"So I will," responded the blouse, with a.s.surance; and leaving his stool abruptly, he ran into the closet aforementioned, and brought back a kitten, which as he held it by the nape of its neck came peaceably enough, but upon his dropping it roughly to the floor, set up a squeak. Now the wrath of Aronach appeared too profound for utterance. Raising his deep-set but lightsome eyes from a perfect thicket of lashes, he gave the impertinent one look which reminded me of Van Amburgh in the lion's den. Then, ladling three or four spoonfuls of soup or broth into a plate, he set the plate upon the floor and the kitten at it, so seriously, that I dared not laugh. The kitten, meantime, unused to strong meats, for it was not a week-old mite, mewed and whined in antiphon to the savage lamentations of another cat in the closet, its maternal parent. The blouse never stirred an inch, save carelessly to sneer over his shoulder at me; and I never loved him from that moment. But Santonio nodded to me significantly, as to say, "Come here!" and I came and planted my stool at his side.
Aronach took no notice, but went on pouring coffee, one cup of which he set by the kitten. Again she piteously smelled, but finding it even worse than the broth, she crept up to the closet-door and smelled at that.
"Go up!" said Aronach, to the blouse, "and send Burney to his supper.
He shall have the cat's supper, as thou hast given thine to the cat."
He went out sulkily, and the wail above ceased. I also heard footsteps, but he came back again alone.
"He won't come down."
"Won't! Did he say 'won't,' Iskar? Have a care!"
"He says he wants no supper."
"That I have taken away his stomach, eh? Come hither, thou black and white bird that art not yet a pyet."
This was to me; I was just sliding from my stool.
"Eat and drink first, and then thou shalt carry it to him. Thou lookest better brought up. Don't grimace, Iskar, or thou shalt sleep in the cupboard with the cat, and the rats shall dance in thy fine curls. So now eat, Aukester, if that be thy name."
"Sir, I am Carl; will you please to call me Carl?"
He gave me a glance from behind the coffee-stand. Sparks as from steel seemed to come out of his...o...b.. and fly about my brain; but I was not frightened the least, for the lips of this austerest of autocrats were smiling like sunlight beneath the silver hair. I saw at this moment that Aronach had a bowl of smoking milk crammed with bread by his side, and believing it to be for the violin up in the clouds, and concluding inferentially that the unseen was some one very small, I entreated Aronach without fear to let me carry it to him while yet it smoked.
He did not object, but rather stared, and observed to Santonio, "His father makes a baby of him; to give a boy such stuff is enough to make a girl grow up instead." Still he handed it to me with the caution, "If thou fallest on thy nose in going up to heaven, the kitten will lose her supper, for the milk is all used up in the town." I could just see a very narrow set of steps, exactly like a belfry-stair, when I opened the door, and having shut it again and found myself in darkness, I concluded to leave the bowl on the ground till I had explored to the top. I did so, and spun upwards, discovering another door, to which, though also in darkness, the wail of the violin became my light. I just unlatched it, and returned for my burden, carefully adjusting spoon and basin on the road back. I knocked first, not to alarm the semi-tonic inhabitant; and then, receiving no intimation, entered of my own accord. It was a queer region, hardly so superior as a garret, extremely low and vast, with mountains of lumber in every corner, and in the midst a pile of boxes with a portmanteau or two, and many items of property which for me were nondescript. It had no furniture of its own besides, but to do it justice it was weather-proof. I could see all this rugged imagery on the instant, but not so easily I discerned a little figure in the very centre of the boxes, sitting upon the least of the boxes, and solitarily regaling the silence, without either desk or book, with what had made me suffer below stairs. The organ-pipes came up here, and reached to the very roof; they gave me a strange feeling as of something misplaced and mangled, but otherwise I was charmed to discover them. I hastened across the floor. The player was certainly not an adept,--a tiny, lonely looking boy, who as I went up to him almost let his fiddle fall with fright, and shrank from me as some little children do from dogs.
I was as tall again as he, and felt quite manly. "I am only come," I said, "to bring your supper,--have it while it is hot; it is so good then!"
Do not believe, sweet reader, that my German was more polished than my English,--it was quite the same. He dropped his bow upon the nearest box, and depressing his violin so that it touched the ground while he still held it, looked up at me with such a wistful wonder, his lip still quivering, his pretty hair all ruffled up.
"I don't want it, thank you."
"You must eat it; you have been up here ever so long."
"Yes, a good while; please take it away. Are you the new one who was coming?"
"Who said I was coming?"
"The master. He said you would beat us both, and get first to Cecilia."
"That is because I am older. I can't play the least in the world. I don't know even how to hold the bow. Come, _do_ eat this good-looking stuff."
"I don't think I can, I feel so sick."
"That is because you _do_ want something to eat."
"It is not that"--he touched my jacket. "This is what they wear in England. I do wish you would talk English to me."
I was touched almost into tears. "You are such a little darling!" I exclaimed; and I would have given anything to fondle him, but I was afraid of staying, so I took a spoonful of the milk and put it to his lips, still another and another, till he had taken it all; and then I said, "Do not practise any more;" for he was disconsolately gathering up his bow.
"I must until bed-time; but I am so sleepy."
"Why are you left up here? I will stay with you."
"No, no, you must not. I only came up here because the master caught me looking out of the window this morning, and the windows here don't show you anything but the sky."
As I went out at the door I looked after him again. He was just finis.h.i.+ng one of those long yawns that babies delight in. The moment I found my way below, I marched to the master's chair. He was awful in his dignity then, with the wine-bottle beside him and a gla.s.s held half-way to his lips.