When Evelyn announced to the old YaskÙlskis her firm intention of marrying the blind man, the old mother wept; but the father, after saying a prayer to the images, declared that it was manifestly the will of God. In due course of time, therefore, the wedding was celebrated. Now began a new and happy life for Peter; and yet it made no great change in him. In his happiest moments there was a shade of sadness The blind man had also lost to a certain extent his extreme sensitiveness to the outward impressions made by light, and his mental activity was proportionately diminished. The turbulent organic force within him lay for the moment dormant, with no conscious effort of will on his part to rouse it into action, or to combine his manifold sensations into one consistent whole. But who can tell?—this interior calmness may have served to promote the work that was unconsciously to himself going on II.In the very same room where Peter was born, no sound could be heard save the wailing cry of an infant. A few days had passed since its birth, and Evelyn was rapidly recovering. But Peter still seemed depressed, as though weighed down by the presentiment of some impending misfortune. The doctor taking the child in his arms carried him to the window. Quickly drawing aside the curtain and admitting a bright sunbeam into the room, he took his instruments and bent at once over the boy. Peter was also “The child must be blind,” he kept repeating. “Better for it, too, had it never been born.” The young doctor made no reply, but continued his observations in silence. At last he laid aside the ophthalmoscope, and his calm, encouraging voice echoed through the room: “The pupil contracts; the child sees!” Peter started, and rose instantly to his feet. But although the act gave proof that he heard the doctor’s words, the expression of his face showed no comprehension of their significance. Resting his trembling hands upon the window-seat, and with his pale face and set features uplifted, he looked like one petrified. Until the present moment he had been in a state of Such had been Peter’s state of mind while the doctor was silently carrying on his preparations. He had wavered between hope and fear; but now the latter, rising to its highest pitch, had won entire control of his excited nerves, while hope withdrew to the innermost recesses of his heart. Then came the words, “The child sees!” and his feelings underwent a sudden transformation; his fears vanished, and assurance took the place of hope, illuminating the inner world of imagination in which the Directly upon this flash, strange shapes rose before those eyes blind from birth. Were these rays of light, or sounds? He could not tell. They seemed like vivified sounds, that had taken the form and the motion of light. They were radiant as the firmament, and their course was as that of the sun in the heavens above; waving to and fro, they whispered and rustled like the green steppe, and swayed like the branches of the pensive beech-trees. And all the time these branches were mysteriously but clearly outlined against the sky; the steppe Some one touched the blind man’s hand. Yes! he knows, he hears, he feels, he sees this touch! Here again come the ray-sounds, shaping themselves into visible images. From his childhood he has known that bright vision, so dear to his heart, reproduced in his soul with such marvellous fidelity! He hears his mother’s gentle voice; her tender blue eyes rest lovingly and sadly upon his face, and somewhere in the depths of his heart the reflection of her gaze faintly glimmers. The silvery white hair, the clear, pure ringing tones of her voice,—he not only hears, he also sees and feels that fondly loved, that pure and gentle being, the embodiment of holy love! A young, anxious, and sympathetic cry!—His heart beats with passionate excitement. Can it be that he has never seen her before,—his friend, his wife, his best-beloved? Behold, she now lies before him, distinct and wonderful! And this?—A discord; the tapping of a crutch; a stifled exclamation! He reaches out his hands toward the tutor who has devoted his life to him. He knows the keen glance, the dogged persistency, the energetic voice, the heavy and ungainly figure that seems to belong to the harsh, abrupt tones,—a succession of discordant sounds against a background of controlled emotions! But now again comes the darkness, sweeping once more in waves across the blind man’s brain; and this form loses all distinctness of Silence and darkness, with certain vague object-sounds, fantastic of outline, yet still striving to rise to the surface! Peter could not grasp their tones, forms, or colors, but somewhere from the depths he could still hear the resonant modulations of the scale, and seemed to see the rows of ivory keys flashing in the darkness, as they glided down into space. Suddenly the sounds began to reach him in their ordinary way. It was as if he had just waked, and bright and joyous began to press the hands of Maxim and of his mother. “What is it?” asked his mother, in alarm. “Nothing! I thought I—saw you all. I am not sleeping, am I?” “And now?” she asked anxiously. “Do you remember? Shall you remember?” The blind man breathed a deep sigh. “Nothing,” he replied with an effort. “I shall transmit it all—I have already transmitted it to the child.” The blind man tottered, and fell fainting to the floor. His face was pale, but a gleam of joy and satisfaction still rested upon it. |