FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146  
147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   171   >>   >|  
ght wind of the desert blowing upon his face. "If he could only hear!" she thought. "If he could only wake and know that what he heard was a message of friendship!" And with this fancy in her mind she played with such skill as she had never used before; she made of her violin a voice of sympathy. The fancy grew and changed as she played. The music became a bridge swung in mid-air across the world, upon which just for these few minutes she and Harry Feversham might meet and shake hands. They would separate, of course, forthwith, and each one go upon the allotted way. But these few minutes would be a help to both along the separate ways. The chords rang upon silence. It seemed to Ethne that they declaimed the pride which had come to her that day. Her fancy grew into a belief. It was no longer "If he should hear," but "He _must_ hear!" And so carried away was she from the discretion of thought that a strange hope suddenly sprang up and enthralled her. "If he could answer!" She lingered upon the last bars, waiting for the answer; and when the music had died down to silence, she sat with her violin upon her knees, looking eagerly out across the moonlit garden. And an answer did come, but it was not carried up the creek and across the lawn. It came from the dark shadows of the room behind her, and it was spoken through the voice of Durrance. "Ethne, where do you think I heard that overture last played?" Ethne was roused with a start to the consciousness that Durrance was in the room, and she answered like one shaken suddenly out of sleep. "Why, you told me. At Ramelton, when you first came to Lennon House." "I have heard it since, though it was not played by you. It was not really played at all. But a melody of it and not even that really, but a suggestion of a melody, I heard stumbled out upon a zither, with many false notes, by a Greek in a bare little whitewashed cafe, lit by one glaring lamp, at Wadi Halfa." "This overture?" she said. "How strange!" "Not so strange after all. For the Greek was Harry Feversham." So the answer had come. Ethne had no doubt that it was an answer. She sat very still in the moonlight; only had any one bent over her with eyes to see, he would have discovered that her eyelids were closed. There followed a long silence. She did not consider why Durrance, having kept this knowledge secret so long, should speak of it now. She did not ask what Harry Feversham was doing that
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146  
147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   171   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
answer
 

played

 

strange

 

Feversham

 

silence

 
Durrance
 
minutes
 

thought

 
separate
 

suddenly


carried

 

overture

 
violin
 

melody

 
shaken
 

answered

 
consciousness
 
roused
 

Lennon

 

Ramelton


discovered

 

eyelids

 

closed

 

moonlight

 

secret

 

knowledge

 

whitewashed

 

suggestion

 

stumbled

 

zither


glaring

 
bridge
 

allotted

 

forthwith

 

changed

 
blowing
 

desert

 
message
 

friendship

 
sympathy

waiting
 

enthralled

 
lingered
 
eagerly
 

moonlit

 

spoken

 
shadows
 

garden

 
sprang
 

declaimed