The Master of Silence by Irving Bacheller
page 37 of 123 (30%)
page 37 of 123 (30%)
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"I should think he would have lost the power of speech and hearing," I remarked. "No. Music saved them--abstract music. His voice is wonderful. His hearing is quick. Rayel knows words but not speech. His mind has command of my knowledge. He has never seen the world, but he knows about it. I tried to begin my life anew and to forget the past. But I could not wholly cleanse my mind of it. Its memories faded slowly. I have avoided renewing them for his sake." "He could, then, learn to speak?" "With ease, and it were better if he could speak now. We will teach him soon." As he ceased speaking, fatigued by the unaccustomed effort, I heard low strains of music echoing through the silent halls around us. A violin! The tone was deep and tremulous, gradually growing louder, filling the ear with its message, and lifting the mind to lofty heights of thought and passion. We both sat listening for hours, and midnight came before the last strain died away. That music was like a strange story that drops its plummet deep into life's mysteries. "A new song!" said my uncle, turning to me with surprise on his face. "He got the subject from you. We shall see." |
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