Darrel

“ Soon the widow and her boys came, their pails full of berries.
"We cannot shake hands with you," said Mrs. Vaughn, her fingers red with the berry stain.
"Blood o' the old earth!" said Darrel. "How fares the clock?"
"It's too slow, Polly says."
"Ah, time lags when love is on the way," Darrel answered.
"Foolish child! A little while ago she was a baby, an' now she is in love."
"Ah, let the girl love," said Darrel, patting the red cheek of
Polly, "an' bless God she loves a worthy lad,"
"You'd better fix the clock." ”

“ Then, suddenly, many people were beside him, and far ahead on a steep hill, in dim, gray light, he could see Darrel toiling upward. And sometimes the tinker turned, beckoning him to follow. And Trove ran, but the way was long between them. And the tinker called to him; "Who drains the cup of another's bitterness shall find it sweet." Quickly he was alone, groping for his path in black darkness and presently coming down a stairway into the moonlit chamber of his inheritance. ”

“ DARREL OF THE BLESSED ISLES, By Irving Bacheller With illustrations by Arthur Keller.
“Darrel, the clock tinker, is a wit, philosopher, and man of mystery. Learned, strong, kindly, dignified, he towers like a giant above the people among whom he lives. It is another tale of the North Country, full of the odor of wood and field. Wit, humor, pathos and high thinking are in this book.”—Boston Transcript. ”

“ Again they sat down together, and presently Trove told him of those silent men who had ever haunted the dark and ghostly house of his inheritance.
"'Tis thy mother's terror,—an' thy father's house,—I make no doubt," said Darrel, presently, in a deep voice. "But, boy, I cannot tell any man where is thy father; not even thee, nor his name, nor the least thing, tending to point him out, until—until I am released o' me vow. Be content; if I can find the man, ere long, thou shalt have word o' him." ”

“ Some power, greater, far greater, than his words, had gone out of the man. Those many who sat before him and they standing there by the door had felt it and were deeply moved. There was a quick stir in the audience—a stir of hands and handkerchiefs. Trove entered; the chaplain was now reading a hymn. Darrel sat behind him on a raised platform, the silken spray upon his brows, long and white as snow, his face thoughtful and serious. The reading over, he came and sat among the men, singing as they sang. ”

“ Darrel lay on a lounge in the sitting-room, a victim against his will to romance. Beside him on a low footstool sat Valentine, reading aloud to him when she thought he ought to be read to, fussing with his pillows when she chose to fuss, taking his cigarette from his lips and inserting a thermometer at intervals, and always calmly indifferent to his protests or to her mother's laughter. ”

“ They could see the crowd scatter, and some passed near them, running away in the darkness.
"Stoop there an' say not a word," the tinker whispered, crouching in the grass.
When all were out of hearing, they started for the little shop.
"Hereafter," said Darrel, as they walked along, "God send he be more careful with the happiness of other men. I do assure thee, boy, it is bitter, bitter, bitter." ”

“ To preach thoroughly his gospel of art, as he conceived it, Darrel lived in London, that microcosm of life in all its phases, good, bad, and indifferent. Usually he worked in the morning, slept in the afternoon, amused himself in the evening, and devoted the night from twelve to five to exploring the deeps of the metropolitan ocean. In a disguise of decent poverty more threadbare than ragged, this enthusiast would exploit the dark corners of the Strand, penetrate into Whitechapel slums, and explore the least-known recesses of the City. ”

“ So the young men went away together; and presently Guild was flinging from him the same worn clothing which, at one terrible moment, seemed destined to become his shroud: and Darrel sat on the bed and gave him an outline of the life at Lesse Forest and of the two American women who lived there.
"Courland loved the place," said Darrel, "and for many years until his death he spent the summers here with his wife and daughter.
"That's why they continue to come. The place is part of their life. ”

“ God love thee, child!" said the tinker, in a tone of great admiration. "'Tis beautiful."
"And, you came through the woods?" said Polly.
"Through wood and field," was Trove's answer.
"I wonder you knew the way."
"The little god o' love—he shot his arrows, an' we followed them as the hunter follows the bee," said Darrel.
"It was nice of you to bring the flowers," said Polly. "They are beautiful."
"But not like those in thy cheeks, dear child. Where is the good mother?" said Darrel. ”

“ Arriving at Hillsborough, he tied her in the sheds and took his way to the Sign of the Dial. Darrel was working at his little bench. He turned wearily, his face paler than Trove had ever seen it, his eyes deeper under their fringe of silvered hair.
"An' God be praised, the boy!" said he, rising quickly. "Canst thou make a jest, boy, a merry jest?"
"Not until you have told me what's the matter."
"Illness an' the food o' bitter fancy," said the tinker, with a sad face.
"Bitter fancy?"
"Yes; an' o' thee, boy. ”

“ He had large brown eyes, a mouth firm and well modelled, a nose slightly aquiline, and wore a small, dark imperial—a mere tuft under his lip.
"Well, Colonel, you have paid me a graceful compliment," said he.
"Nay, man, do not mistake me rank," said Darrel.
"Indeed—what is it?"
"Friend," he answered, quickly. "In good company there's no higher rank. But if ye think me unworthy, I'll be content with 'Mister.'"
"My friend, forgive me," said the stranger, approaching Darrel. "Murder and envy and revenge and all evil are in my part, but no impertinence."
"I know thy rank, sor. ”

“ They use fire an' the fume o' sulphur."
"And the men go to sleep."
"Ay, the cruel master makes a thick hide," said Darrel, quickly. "So Nature puts her hand between the whip an' the horse, an' sleep between cruelty an' the congregation."
"Nature is kind," was the remark of the warden.
"An' shows the intent o' the Almighty," said Darrel. "There are two words. In them are all the sermons."
"And what are they?" the woman asked.
"Fear," Darrel answered thoughtfully; "that is one o' them." ”

“ Polly waited full half a minute for his answer. Then she touched her eyes with her handkerchief, turned impatiently, and went halfway to the door. Darrel caught her hand, drawing her near him.
"Give me thy hand, boy," said he to Trove, now on his way to the door.
He stood with his arms around the two.
"Every shadow hath the wings o' light," he whispered. "Listen."
The house rang with laughter and the music of Money Musk.
"'Tis the golden bell of happiness," said he, presently. "Go an' ring it. Nay—first a kiss." ”

“ Darrel crossed to his bench and began to wind the clocks.
"Ho, Clocks!" said he, thoughtfully. "Know ye the cars have come? Now must we look well to the long hand o' the clock. The old, slow-footed hour is dead, an' now, boy, the minute is our king."
He came shortly and sat beside the young man.
"Put away thy unhappiness," said he, gently, patting the boy's hand. "No harm shall come to thee—'tis only a passing cloud."
"You're right, and I'm not going to be a fool," said Trove. "It has all brought me one item of good fortune."
"An' that is?"
"I have discovered who is my father." ”

“ Trove remained at Robin's Inn that night, and after the men had gone he recalled a circumstance that was like a flash of lightning in the dark of his great mystery.
Once at the Sign of the Dial his friend, the tinker, had shown him a pair of new boots. He remembered they were of the same size and shape as those he wore.
"We could wear the same boots," he had remarked to Darrel.
"Had I to do such penance I should be damned," the tinker had answered. "Look, boy, mine are the larger by far. There's a man coming to see me at the Christmas time—a man o' busy feet. ”

“ So came my hero in a little red sleigh, and was adopted by the settler and his wife, and reared by them with generous affection. Well, he goes to school and learns rapidly, and comes to manhood. It's a pretty story—that of his life in the big woods. But now for the love tale. He meets a young lady—sweet, tender, graceful, charming."
"A moment," said Darrel, raising his hand. ”

“ The tinker turned quickly. "'O et presidium et duice decus meum,'" he quoted, never stopping until he had finished She ode.
"Is there anything you do not know?" Trove inquired.
"Much," said the tinker, "including the depth o' me own folly. A man that displays knowledge hath need o' more."
Indeed, Trove rarely came for a talk with Darrel when he failed to discover something new in him—a further reach of thought and sympathy or some unsuspected treasure of knowledge. The tinker loved a laugh and would often search his memory for some phrase of bard or philosopher apt enough to provoke it. ”

“ But mind thee, boy, we are trying the law o' the great teacher, and let us see if we can learn to love this man."
"Love Riley Brooke?" said Trove, doubtfully.
"A great achievement, I grant thee," said the tinker. "For if we can love him, we shall be able to love anybody. Let us try and see what comes of it."
A man was waiting for Darrel at the foot of the old stairs—a tall man, poorly dressed, whom Trove had not seen before, and whom, now, he was not able to see clearly in the darkness.
"The mare is ready," said Darrel. "Tis a dark night." ”

“ Trove halted to compose himself, for now he could hear the voice of Darrel.
"Let me stand here a while—I cannot go in now," he whispered.
The words of the old man were vibrant with colour and dramatic force.
"Night!" he was saying, "the guard passes; the lights are out; ye lie thinking. Hark! a bell! 'Tis in the golden city o' remembrance. Ye hear it calling. Haste away, men, haste away. Ah, look!—flowers by the roadside! an' sunlight, an', just ahead, spires o' the city, an' beneath them—oh! what is there beneath them ye go so many times to see? ”

“ The young man sank upon a chair, covering his face.
"Nay, boy, it is not wise," said Darrel, tenderly. "Take thought of it—thou'rt young. The time is near when thy father can make restitution, ay, an' acknowledge his sin before the world. All very near to him, saving thyself, are dead. Now, whatever comes, it can do thee no harm." ”

“ Trove and Darrel walked to the clearing above Faraway. At a corner on the high hills, where northward they could see smoke and spire of distant villages, each took his way,—one leading to Hillsborough, the other to Allen's.
"Good-by; an' when I return I hope to bear the rest o' thy tale," said Darrel, as they parted.
"Only God is wise enough to finish it," said the young man.
"'Well, God help us; 'tis a world to see,'" Darrel quoted, waving his hand. "If thy heart oppress thee, steer for the Blessed Isles."
XXI Robin's Inn
A big maple sheltered the house of the widow Vaughn. ”

“ Darrel stood to his full height, the red handkerchief covering his head and falling on his back. He began with a tone of contempt that changed quickly into one of sharp command. There was a little silence and then a quick rap.
"Come in," Darrel shouted, as he let the handkerchief fall upon his face again.
The district attorney, a constable, and the bank clerk, who had been injured the night of the robbery, came in.
"He is not guilty," said Trove, rising quickly.
"I command ye, boy, be silent," said Darrel, sternly. ”

“ There, again, they rested in a cool shade of pines, Darrel lighting his pipe.
"I envy thee, boy," said the tinker, "entering on thy life-work in this great land—a country blest o' God. To thee all high things are possible. Where I was born, let a poor lad have great hope in him, an' all—ay, all—even those he loved, rose up to cry him down. Here in this land all cheer an' bid him God-speed. An' here is to be the great theatre o' the world's action. Many of high hope in the broad earth shall come, an' here they shall do their work. ”

“ Sidney Trove and another young gentleman."
The boys took the two chairs offered them in silence.
"Kind sor," the tinker added, turning to Trove, "thou hast thy cue; give us the lines."
"Pardon me," said the boy. "Mr. Darrel, my friend Richard Kent."
"Of the Academy?" said Darrel, as he held to the hand of Kent.
"Of the Academy," said Trove.
"An', I make no doubt, o' good hope," the tinker added. "Let me stop one o' the clocks—so I may not forget the hour o' meeting a new friend." ”

“ He's got to have some place for his enemies. If it were not for hell, the deacon would be miserable here and, maybe, happy hereafter."
"It's a great hope and comfort to him," said the widow, smiling.
"Well, God save us all!" said Trove, who had now a liking for both the phrase and philosophy of Darrel. They had taken chairs at the table.
"Tom," said he, "we'll pause a moment, while you give us the fourth rule of syntax."
"Correct," said he, heartily, as the last word was spoken. "Now let us be happy."
"Paul," said the teacher, as he finished eating, "what is the greatest of all laws?" ”

“ Trove inquired,
"Marry, I do not know; it may have been joy," said the tinker, lighting his pipe. "Ah, sor, Brooke is tough. He smites the helping hand an' sickens the heart o' kindness. I offered him help an' sympathy, an' he made it all bitter with suspicion o' me. I turned away, an' said I to meself, 'Darrel, thy head is soft—a babe could brain thee with a lady's fan.'"
Darrel puffed his pipe in silence a little time.
"Every one hates Brooke," said Trove. ”

“ Our King must see those papers."
"Bien," said Michaud. "We bivouac near Quellenheim tonight—time for a crust, Monsieur, while you go to the house and return. Is it agreeable to Monsieur?"
"Perfectly." And, to Darrel: "Take your chance while it remains and join the Courlands when they leave Quellenheim. Will you promise?"
"I'll see," said Darrel, carelessly tossing his rifle across his shoulder and stepping into the silent file of men which was already starting across the ridge. ”