LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

the harmony themselves, Mrs Wyllys and her pupil could but gaze on the singularly constituted being into whose hands their evil fortune had seen fit to cast them. The former was filled with admiration at the fearful contrariety of those passions which could reveal themselves, in the same individual, under so very different and so dangerous forms; while the latter, judging with the indulgence and sympathy of her years, was willing to believe that a man whose emotions could be thus easily and kindly excited was rather the victim of circumstances than the creator of his own luckless fortune.

      “There is Italy in those strains,” said the Rover, when the last chord had died upon his ear; “sweet, indolent, luxurious, forgetful Italy! It has never been your chance, Madam, to visit that land, so mighty in its recollections, and so impotent in its actual condition?”

      The governess made no reply; but, bowing her head, in turn, her companions believed she was submitting also to the influence of the music. At length, as though impelled by another changeful impulse, the Rover advanced towards Gertrude, and, addressing her with a courtesy that would have done credit to a very different scene, he said, in the laboured language that characterised the politeness of the age,—

      “One who in common speaks music should not have neglected the gifts of nature. You sing?”

      Had Gertrude possessed the power he affected to believe, her voice would have denied its services at his call. Bending to his compliment, she murmured her apologies in words that were barely audible. He listened intently; but, without pressing a point that it was easy to see was unwelcome, he turned away, gave the gong a light but startling tap.

      “Roderick,” he continued, when the gentle foot step of the lad was heard upon the stairs that led into the cabin below, “do you sleep?”

      The answer was slow and smothered; and, of course, in the negative.

      “Apollo was not absent at the birth of Roderick, Madam. The lad can raise such sounds as have been known to melt the stubborn feelings of a seaman. Go, place yourself by the cabin door, good Roderick, and bid the music run a low accompaniment to your words.”

      The boy obeyed, stationing his slight form so much in shadow, that the expression of his working countenance was not visible to those who sat within the stronger light of the lamp. The instruments then commenced a gentle symphony, which was soon ended; and twice had they begun the air, but still no voice was heard to mingle in the harmony.

      “Words, Roderick, words; we are but dull interpreters of the meaning of yon flutes.”

      Thus admonished of his duty, the boy began to sing in a full, rich contralto voice, which betrayed a tremour, however, that evidently formed no part of the air. His words, so far as they might be distinguished, ran as follows:—

      “The land was lying broad and fair

       Behind the western sea;

       And holy solitude was there,

       And sweetest liberty.

      The lingering sun, at ev’ning, hung

       A glorious orb, divinely beaming

       On silent lake and tree;

       And ruddy light was o’er all streaming,

       Mark, man! for thee;

       O’er valley, lake, and tree!

      And now a thousand maidens stray,

       Or range the echoing groves;

       While, flutt’ring near, on pinions gay,

       Fan twice ten thousand loves,

       In that soft clime, at even time,

       Hope says”——

      “Enough of this, Roderick,” impatiently interrupted his master. “There is too much of the Corydon in that song for the humour of a manner. Sing us of the sea and its pleasures, boy; and roll out the strains in such a fashion as may suit a sailor’s fancy.”

      The lad continued mute, perhaps in disinclination to the task, perhaps from utter inability to comply.

      “What, Roderick! does the muse desert thee? or is memory getting dull? You see the child is wilful in his melody, and must sing of loves and sunshine or he fails. Now touch us a stronger chord my men, and put life into your cadences, while I troll a sea air for the honour of the ship.”

      The band took the humour of the moment from their master, (for surely he well deserved the name), sounding a powerful and graceful symphony, to prepare the listeners for the song of the Rover. Those treacherous and beguiling tones which so often stole into his voice when, speaking, did not mislead expectation as to its powers. It proved to be at the same time rich, full, deep, and melodious. Favoured by these material advantages, and aided by an exquisite ear, he rolled out the following stanzas in a manner that was singularly divided between that of the reveller and the man of sentiment. The words were probably original; for they both smacked strongly of his own profession, and were not entirely without a touch of the peculiar taste of the individual

      All hands, unmoor! unmoor

       Hark to the hoarse, but welcome sound,

       Startling the seaman’s sweetest slumbers.

       The groaning capstan’s labouring round,

       The cheerful fife’s enliv’ning numbers;.

       And ling’ring idlers join the brawl,

       And merry ship-boys swell the call,

       All hands, unmoor! unmoor!

      The cry is, “A sail! a sail!”

       Brace high each nerve to dare the fight,

       And boldly steer to seek the foeman;

       One secret prayer to aid the right,

       And many a secret thought to woman

       Now spread the flutt’ring canvas wide,

       And dash the foaming sea aside;

       The cry’s, “A sail! a sail!”

      Three cheers for victory!

       Hush’d be each plaint o’er fallen brave;

       Still ev’ry sigh to messmate given;

       The seaman’s tomb is in the wave;

       The hero’s latest hope is heaven!

       High lift the voice in revelry!

       Gay raise the song, the shout, the glee;

       Three cheers for victory!

      So soon as he had ended this song, and without waiting to listen if any words of compliment were to succeed an effort that might lay claim to great excellence both in tones and execution, he arose; and, desiring his guests to command the services of his band at pleasure, he wished them “soft repose and pleasant dreams,” and then coolly descended into the lower apartments, apparently for the night. Mrs Wyllys and Gertrude, notwithstanding both had been amused, or rather seduced, by the interest thrown around a manner that was so wayward, while it was never gross, felt a sensation, as he disappeared, like that produced by breathing a freer air, after having been too long compelled to respire the pent atmosphere of a dungeon. The former regarded her pupil with eyes in which open affection struggled with deep inward solicitude; but neither spoke, since a slight movement near the door of the cabin reminded them they were not alone.

      “Would you have further music, Madam?” asked Roderick, in a smothered voice, stealing timidly out of the shadow as he spoke; “I will sing you to sleep if you will; but I am choaked when he bids me thus be merry against my feelings.”

      The brow of the governess had already contracted, and she was evidently preparing herself to give a stern and repulsive answer; but, as the plaintive tones, and shrinking, submissive form of the other, pleaded strongly to her heart, the frown passed away, leaving in its place a mild reproving look, like that which chastens the frown of maternal concern.

      “Roderick,” she said, “I thought we should have seen you no more to-night!”

      “You

Скачать книгу