“You may be sure the Lord took the position in life in which it was most possible to do the highest good; and without driving the argument—for every work has its own specialty—it seems probable that the true ends of his coming will still be better furthered from the standpoint of humble circumstances, than from that of rank and position.”
“You always speak,” said Arctura, “as if there were only the things Jesus Christ came for to be cared about:—is there nothing but salvation worthy a human being’s regard?”
“If you give a true and large enough meaning to the word salvation, I answer you at once, Nothing. Only in proportion as a man is saved, will he do the work of the world aright—the whole design of which is to rear a beautiful blessed family. The world is God’s nursery for his upper rooms. Oneness with God is the end of the order of things. When that is attained, we shall do greater things than the Lord himself did on the earth!—But was not that Æolus?—Listen!”
There came a low prolonged wail.
The ladder was in readiness; Donal set it up in haste, climbed to the cleft, and with a sheet of brown paper in his hands, waited the next cry of the prisoned chords. He was beginning to get tired of his position, when suddenly came a stronger puff, and he heard the music distinctly in the shaft beside him. It swelled and grew. He spread the sheet of paper over the opening, the wind blew it flat against the chimney, and the sound instantly ceased. He removed it, and again came the sound. The wind continued, and grew stronger, so that they were able to make the simple experiment until no shadow of a doubt was left: they had discovered the source of the music! By certain dispositions of the paper they were even able to modify it.
Donal descended, and said to Davie,
“I wish you not to say a word about this to any one, Davie, before lady Arctura or I give you leave. You have a secret with us now. The castle belongs to lady Arctura, and she has a right to ask you not to speak of it to any one without her permission.—I have a reason, my lady,” he went on, turning to Arctura: “will you, please, desire Davie to attend to what I say. I will immediately explain to you, but I do not want Davie to know my reason until you do. You can on the instant withdraw your prohibition, should you not think my reason a good one.”
“Davie,” said Arctura, “I too have faith in Mr. Grant: I beg you will keep all this a secret for the present.”
“Oh surely, cousin Arkie!” said Davie. “—But, Mr. Grant, why should you make Arkie speak to me too?”
“Because the thing is her business, not mine. Run down and wait for me in my room. Go steadily over the bartizan, mind.”