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〃Yes； indeed！〃 answered Donal； to whom the idea of his aerie was
growing more and more agreeable。 〃But would there be no objection to
my using the place for such a purpose？〃
〃What objection？〃 returned his guide。 〃I doubt if a single person
but myself knows it。〃
〃And shall I be allowed to carry up as much as I please？〃
〃I allow you；〃 said the butler； with importance。 〃Of course you will
not wasteI am dead against waste！ But as to what is needful； use
your freedom。Dinner will be ready for you in the schoolroom at
seven。〃
At the door of his room the old man left him； and after listening
for a moment to his descending steps； Donal re…entered his chamber。
Why they put him so apart； Donal never asked himself； that he should
have such command of his leisure as this isolation promised him was
a consequence very satisfactory。 He proceeded at once to settle
himself in his new quarters。 Finding some shelves in a recess of
the wall； he arranged his books upon them； and laid his few clothes
in the chest of drawers beneath。 He then got out his writing
material； and sat down。
Though his window was so high； the warm pure air came in full of the
aromatic odours rising in the hot sunshine from the young pine trees
far below； and from a lark far above descended news of heaven…gate。
The scent came up and the song came down all the time he was
writing to his mothera long letter。 When he had closed and
addressed it； he fell into a reverie。 Apparently he was to have his
meals by himself： he was glad of it： he would be able to read all
the time！ But how was he to find the schoolroom！ Some one would
surely fetch him！ They would remember he did not know his way about
the place！ It wanted yet an hour to dinner…time when； finding
himself drowsy； he threw himself on his bed； where presently he fell
fast asleep。
The night descended； and when he came to himself； its silences were
deep around him。 It was not dark： there was no moon； but the
twilight was clear。 He could read the face of his watch： it was
twelve o'clock！ No one had missed him！ He was very hungry！ But he
had been hungrier before and survived it！ In his wallet were still
some remnants of oat…cake！ He took it in his hand； and stepping out
on the bartizan； crept with careful steps round to the watch…tower。
There he seated himself in the stone chair； and ate his dry morsels
in the starry presences。 Sleep had refreshed him； and he was wide
awake； yet there was on him the sense of a strange existence。 Never
before had he so known himself！ Often had he passed the night in
the open air； but never before had his night…consciousness been
such！ Never had he felt the same way alone。 He was parted from the
whole earth； like the ship…boy on the giddy mast！ Nothing was below
but a dimness； the earth and all that was in it was massed into a
vague shadow。 It was as if he had died and gone where existence was
independent of solidity and sense。 Above him was domed the vast of
the starry heavens； he could neither flee from it nor ascend to it！
For a moment he felt it the symbol of life； yet an unattainable
hopeless thing。 He hung suspended between heaven and earth； an
outcast of both； a denizen of neither！ The true life seemed ever to
retreat； never to await his grasp。 Nothing but the beholding of the
face of the Son of Man could set him at rest as to its reality；
nothing less than the assurance from his own mouth could satisfy him
that all was true； all well： life was a thing so essentially divine；
that he could not know it in itself till his own essence was pure！
But alas； how dream…like was the old story！ Was God indeed to be
reached by the prayers； affected by the needs of men？ How was he to
feel sure of it？ Once more； as often heretofore； he found himself
crying into the great world to know whether there was an ear to
hear。 What if there should come to him no answer？ How frightful
then would be his loneliness！ But to seem not to be heard might be
part of the discipline of his darkness！ It might be for the
perfecting of his faith that he must not yet know how near God was
to him！
〃Lord；〃 he cried； 〃eternal life is to know thee and thy Father； I do
not know thee and thy Father； I have not eternal life； I have but
life enough to hunger for more： show me plainly of the Father whom
thou alone knowest。〃
And as he prayed； something like a touch of God seemed to begin and
grow in him till it was more than his heart could hold； and the
universe about him was not large enough to hold in its hollow the
heart that swelled with it。
〃God is enough；〃 he said； and sat in peace。
CHAPTER XIII。
A SOUND。
All at once came to his ear through the night a strange something。
Whence or what it was he could not even conjecture。 Was it a moan
of the river from below？ Was it a lost music…tone that had wandered
from afar and grown faint？ Was it one of those mysterious sounds he
had read of as born in the air itself； and not yet explained of
science？ Was it the fluttered skirt of some angelic song of
lamentation？for if the angels rejoice； they surely must lament！
Or was it a stilled human moaning？ Was any wrong being done far
down in the white…gleaming meadows below； by the banks of the river
whose platinum…glimmer he could descry through the molten
amethystine darkness of the starry night？
Presently came a long…drawn musical moan： it must be the sound of
some muffled instrument！ Verily night was the time for strange
things！ Could sounds be begotten in the fir trees by the rays of
the hot sun； and born in the stillness of the following dark； as the
light which the diamond receives in the day glows out in the gloom？
There are parents and their progeny that never exist together！
Again the soundhardly to be called sound！ It resembled a
vibration of organ…pipe too slow and deep to affect the hearing；
only this rather seemed too high； as if only his soul heard it。 He
would steal softly down the dumb stone…stair！ Some creature might
be in trouble and needing help！
He crept back along the bartizan。 The stair was dark as the very
heart of the night。 He groped his way down。 The spiral stair is
the safest of all： you cannot tumble far ere brought up by the
inclosing cylinder。 Arrived at the bottom； and feeling about； he
could not find the door to the outer air which the butler had shown
him； it was wall wherever his hands fell。 He could not find again
the stair he had left； he could not tell in what direction it lay。
He had got into a long windowless passage connecting two wings of
the house； and in this he was feeling his way； fearful of falling
down some stair or trap。 He came at last to a doorlow…browed like
almost all in the house。 Opening itwas it a thinner darkness or
the faintest gleam of light he saw？ And was that again the sound he
had followed； fainter and farther off than beforea downy
wind…wafted plume from the skirt of some stray harmony？ At such a
time of the night surely it was strange！ It must come from one who
could not sleep； and was solacing himself with sweet sounds；
breathing a soul into the uncompanionable silence！ If so it was； he
had no right to search farther！ But how was he to return？ He dared
hardly move； lest he should be found wandering over the house in the
dead of night like a thief； or one searching after its secrets。 He
must sit down and wait for the morning： its earliest light would
perhaps enable him to find his way to his quarters！
Feeling about him a little； his foot struck against the step of a
stair。 Examining it with his hands； he believed it the same he had
ascended in the morning： even in a great castle； could there be two
such royal stairs？ He sat down upon it； and leaning his head on his
hands； composed himself to a patient waiting for the light。
Waiting pure is perhaps the hardest thing for flesh and blood to do
well。 The relations of time to mind are very strange。 Some of
their phenomena seem to prove that time is only of the
mindbelonging to the intellect as good and evil belong to the
spirit。 Anyhow； if it were not for the clocks of the universe； one
man would live a year； a century； where another would live but a
day。 But the mere motion of time； not to say the consciousness of
empty time； is fearful。 It is this empty time that the fool is
always trying to kill： his effort should be to fill it。 Yet nothing
but the living God can fill itthough it be but the shape our
existence takes to us。 Only where he is； emptiness is not。
Eternity will be but an intense present to the child with whom is
the Father。
Such thoughts alighted； flitted； and passed； for the first few
moments； through the mind of Donal； as he sat half consciously
waiting for the dawn。 It was thousands of miles away； over the
great round of the sunward…turning earth！ His imagination woke； and
began to picture the great hunt of the shadows； fleeing before the
arrows of the sun； over the broad face of the mighty worldits
mountains； seas； and plains in turn confessing the light； and
submitting to him who slays for them the haunting demons of their
dark。 Then again the moments were the small cogs