Paul the Minstrel | Page 9

presently died, and his last prayer was that his
son might not know the temptation of song. And his wife lingered a
little, but she soon pined away, for her heart was broken within her; and
she too died. And now, Paul, listen, for the truth must be told--you are
that child, the son of sorrow and tears. And here you have lived with
me all your life; but because the tale was a sad one, I have forborne to
tell it you. I have waited and wondered to see whether the gift of the
father is given to the son; and sometimes I have thought it might be
yours, and sometimes I have doubted. And now, child, we will talk of

this no more to-day, for it is ill to decide in haste. Think well over what
I have said, and see if it makes a difference in your wishes. I have told
you all the tale."
Now the story that Mistress Alison had told him dwelt very much in
Paul's mind that night; but it seemed to him strange and far off, and he
did not doubt what the end should be. It was as though the sight of the
minstrel, his songs and words, had opened a window in his mind, and
that he saw out of it a strange and enchanted country, of woods and
streams, with a light of evening over it, bounded by far-off hills, all
blue and faint, among which some beautiful thing was hidden for him
to find; it seemed to call him softly to come; the trees smiled upon him,
the voice of the streams bade him make haste--it all waited for him, like
a country waiting for its lord to come and take possession.
Then it seemed to him that his soul slipped like a bird from the window,
and rising in the air over that magical land, beat its wings softly in the
pale heaven; and then like a dove that knows, by some inborn
mysterious art, which way its path lies, his spirit paused upon the
breeze, and then sailed out across the tree-tops. Whither? Paul knew not.
And so at last he slipped into a quiet sleep.
He woke in the morning all of a sudden, with a kind of tranquil joy and
purpose; and when he was dressed, and gone into the hall, he found
Mistress Alison sitting in her chair beside the table laid for their meal.
She was silent and looked troubled, and Paul went up softly to her, and
kissed her and said, "I have chosen." She did not need to ask him what
he had chosen, but put her arm about him and said, "Then, dear Paul, be
content--and we will have one more day together, the last of the old
days; and to-morrow shall the new life begin."
So the two passed a long and quiet day together. For to the wise and
loving-hearted woman this was the last of sweet days, and her soul
went out to the past with a great hunger of love; but she stilled it as was
her wont, saying to herself that this dear passage of life had hitherto
only been like the clear trickling of a woodland spring, while the love
of the Father's heart was as it were a great river of love marching softly
to a wide sea, on which river the very world itself floated like a

flower-bloom between widening banks.
And indeed if any had watched them that day, it would have seemed
that she was the serener; for the thought of the life that lay before him
worked like wine in the heart of Paul, and he could only by an effort
bring himself back to loving looks and offices of tenderness. They
spent the whole day together, for the most part in a peaceful silence;
and at last the sun went down, and a cool breeze came up out of the
west, laden with scent from miles and miles of grass and flowers,
which seemed to bear with it the fragrant breath of myriads of sweet
living things.
Then they ate together what was the last meal they were to take thus
alone. And at last Mistress Alison would have Paul go to rest. And so
she took his hand in hers, and said, "Dear child, the good years are over
now; but you will not forget them; only lean upon the Father, for He is
very strong; and remember that though the voice of melody is sweet,
yet the loving heart is deeper yet." And then Paul suddenly broke out
into a passion of weeping, and kissed his old friend on hand and cheek
and lips; and then he burst away, ashamed, if the truth be told, that his