Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-07-18
FROM LETHE,S BANKS.
WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY
HENRY HERMAN,
Author Of The Silver King" and "claudian."
CHAPTER I.

L with the dim, purple twilight, which
streamed through the stained glass windows
and bathed the gray Norman masonry and the
darkly glowing oak paneling with a glory of
warm. subdued color. Its fairy touch made
the old Tudor granite floor into one sheet Of
softly lustrous amethyst, with here and there
. narrow golden band where the last rays Of the
orb Of day pierced the rich amber trsnslucence
Of the oriers brighter bordering. 1t played
among the gilded tubes of the great organ like
q ftful phosphorescent haze. ripping now and
then in little streamlets and spots Of light upon
cornice and scroll work. and Immediately aft
srward hiding its tickle brightness behind q
vaporsus pearly veil
The dulcet opalescence Of the church vibrsted
with melody, weird, strange, yet harmonious
and tuneful; erratic. wandering from one key
TO another with easy and scholarly graduation,
now tripping and playful. then Gliding. sonor-
Gus. grand, as the organists fingers half I'M
consciously wandered over the keys and called
forth the ghosts of treasured harmonies some
nigh forgotten, others nearer and dearer to
memory. one to melt into the other, one to
chase the other with the hearts longings that
prompted them
He was alone IN the church-that old man at
the organ-alone-his thoughts and the great
instrument of sweetness and passion his only
companions. His thoughts led him far away.
across the green meadows and smiling fields
Of England, across the vast billowy deep,
past city and forest and prairie and
mountain. to his boy who had left him
to go TO America-now nearly twelve
years ago. Some three or four letters. brim-
ming with impatient, boisterous hopefulness
had been as songs Of the psalmist to the anx-
ious father. Then a silence. like unto that Of
tie grave. never again to be broken The
years had passed. but no word of his boy had
reached the organists home
The old mans face was wrinkled and fur
rowed. the pale lips trembled feebly. and in the
big brown eyes. beneath the bushy white brows.
glowed the soft luster of patience and fortitude,
which all-destroying time had been powerless to
dim He sat there in silent musing whilst his
hands called forth the harmonious strains
as by their own volition and in his
mind he pictured that son who had
gone away and left him chIldless and lonely-a
brave. strspping. lusty, handsome lad, brown
q Q berry, with health and youthful strength,
with his glossy. curly hair and his eyes like a
pair of black gems. How proud he had been
of that boy! With what q heavy heart
he had consented to his wandering forth
into the Businesses of the far off new
world. there to seek his fortune. Fortune!
A treacherous. murderous rutfian's bullet
had. perhaps, laid him TO sleep beneath
the brown sward Of the foothills of tie Rockies,
or merciless disease. gaunt famine who knew
had snatched that young rosy life from its path
OF hope and had not even left the trace of its
previous suffering.
As the old man 5 waking dreams became more
palpable to his mental vision. his fingers
strayed and from the maj site peals Of Gregg
rian anthem he subsidized into the mellifiuous
soothing strains of ''Old Hundred An i'm
pulse. unaceountable and unaccounted, mado
him turn his head. whilst his hands still rested
upon the keyboard, and there, at the other end
of the aisle. framed by the gray stone work of
the porch, the figure of a tall man stood in the
open door Of the church as in a panel of gray
evening light For a mere heart beats space
the musician imagined that he saw two
figures there, but one vanished as by witch
craft, into the mellow darkness of the vaulted
columns or-so he thought-his weakened sight
had played tricks with him. His fingers still
went over the keys as he looked, and 'Old
Hundred swelled out in its harmony, but on a
sudden he stopped. wondering who it might be
whom he knew not, and who pail visit to the
church at that hour, for the figure was strange
To him.
As the melody ceased the voice Of the man
came 10 him from the church door.
will YOU please play that again. sir love
old Hundred, and have not listened to it
for a long time"
The organist had never before heard the voice
The speech had the barely distinguishable ac-
cent of an educated, well-spoken western Ameri-
can The thought of it caused the musicians
heart TO beat In a tulnuituous riot and tremor.
His son, his lad. had gone to America, and in
memory Of the lost one, and for the sake Of
III,
and never had the organ entuned ''Old Hun
dred' with greater statelinsss sweetness.
When the las: notes had died away IL a har-
monious whisper the old man wiped tear
from his eye
Thank YOU. sir said the man at the door.
II am downright Obliged to you. And if you
will DE so good a 10 come down. when you are
quite done and when you have time, shall be
glad to thank you more closely"
Again the sound of the voice touched a chord
NJ int -
man was an American Perhaps he had lived
near the place where his poor boy had died.
Perhaps he could describe the spot to him, the
country, and the people who lived there. Per-
haps be knew something of the scenes through
which the dead lad had passed Perhaps-and
what soothing hope was there in that thought
he had known the boy himself At last d. r.
haps. he might be able to speak to somebody
who could shed a glea Of light upon the dark
picture that had 81 Ia <frowned upon him: that
had transformed his brightest days into chill
end somber nights of grie;
He gently closed the organ lid and locked il
with his little key, was his habit. and then he
took his old hat and brushed it with his arm.
and his stick and his faded, worn old black
gloves. and. with fumbling fingers, he ar
ranged his white crayat, which he thought
had become little loosened- He descended
with slow and rieketty steps. pausing now and
then. for he was full of novel emotion which
rendered eAertion difficult.
The man at the door greeted him heartily.
he was tall and in the prime Of manhood
foFty-nve. perhaps. or little more. great
dark brown beard streamed around his sharp.
Dronzed lace The deep gray eyes were con-
vlnelng with their honesty, and the sinewy
form, hthe ard wiry, but broad In the chest
and shoulders, denoted strength and power of
endurance Of no ordinary kind.
Again. as the musician approached, he mag
ined that he saw a second figure dart away into
the gloom and vanish there. But the thought
&as merely momentary, and he knew his eve