Meantime the young surgeon had carried Elsie into the house; for, as
soon as she was rescued from the dog, she had fallen down in one of her
fits, which were becoming more and more frequent of themselves, and
little needed such a shock as this to increase their violence. He was
dressing her arm when she began to recover; and when she opened her
eyes, in a state of half-consciousness, he first object she beheld was
his face bending over her. Recalling nothing of what had occurred, it
seemed to her, in the dreamy condition in which the fit had left her,
the same face, unchanged, which had once shone in upon her tardy
springtime, and promised to ripen it into summer. She forgot it had
departed and left her in the wintry cold. And so she uttered wild words
of love and trust; and the youth, while stung with remorse at his own
neglect, was astonished to perceive the poetic forms of beauty in which
the soul of the uneducated maiden burst into flower. But as her senses
recovered themselves, the face gradually changed to her, as if the slow
alteration of two years had been phantasmagorically compressed into a
few moments; and the glow departed from the maiden’s thoughts and words,
and her soul found itself at the narrow window of the present, from
which she could behold but a dreary country.--From the street came the
iambic cry of the fool, _“Come hame, come hame.”_
Tycho Brahe, I think, is said to have kept a fool, who frequently sat at
his feet in his study, and to whose mutterings he used to listen in the
pauses of his own thought. The shining soul of the astronomer drew forth
the rainbow of harmony from the misty spray of words ascending ever from
the dark gulf into which the thoughts of the idiot were ever falling. He
beheld curious concurrences of words therein; and could read strange
meanings from them--sometimes even received wondrous hints for the
direction of celestial inquiry, from what, to any other, and it may be
to the fool himself, was but a ceaseless and aimless babble. Such power
lieth in words. It is not then to be wondered at, that the sounds I have
mentioned should fall on the ears of Elsie, at such a moment, as a
message from God Himself. This then--all this dreariness--was but a
passing show like the rest, and there lay somewhere for her a reality--a
home. The tears burst up from her oppressed heart. She received the
message, and prepared to go home. From that time her strength gradually
sank, but her spirits as steadily rose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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