第 4 节
作者:孤悟      更新:2021-02-19 20:30      字数:9322
  rekindled within my breast; and then with half…closed eyes; and wooingly;
  she said:
  ‘‘No drooping Clytie could be more constant than I to him who strikes
  the chord that is responsive in my soul。''
  Her   emotion   must   have   surprised   her;   but   immediately   she   regained
  her placidity and reverted no more to the subject。
  I went out into the gathering gloom。 Her words haunted me。 A strange
  feeling   came   over   me。 A  voice   within   me   cried:   ‘‘Do   not   play   to…night。
  Study! study! Perhaps in the full fruition of your genius your music; like
  the warm western wind to the harp; may bring life to her soul。''
  I   fled;  and   I  am    here。   I  am   delving    deeper    and   deeper    into   the
  mysteries of my art; and I pray God each hour that He may place within
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  my grasp the wondrous music His blessed angels sing; for the soul of her I
  love is at。 tuned to the harmonies of heaven。
  Your    affectionate     brother;    ANGELO。         ISLAND       OF    BAHAMA;
  January 2。
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  VI
  When Diotti left New York so precipitately he took passage on a coast
  line steamer sailing for the Bahama Islands。 Once there; he leased a small
  cay; one of a group off the main land; and lived alone and unattended; save
  for   the   weekly     visits  of  an   old   fisherman     and   his  son;   who    brought
  supplies   of   provisions   from   the      town   miles   away。   His     dwelling…place;
  surrounded with palmetto trees; was little more than a rough shelter。 Diotti
  arose   at   daylight;   and   after   a   simple   repast;   betook   himself   to   practise。
  Hour after hour he would let his muse run riot with his fingers。 Lovingly
  he wooed the strings with plaintive song; then conquering and triumphant
  would   be   his   theme。   But   neither   satisfied   him。   The   vague   dream   of   a
  melody more beautiful than ever man had heard dwelt hauntingly on the
  borders   of   his   imagination;   but   was   no   nearer   realization   than   when   he
  began。 As   the day's   work   closed;   he   wearily  placed   the   violin   within   its
  case; murmuring; ‘‘Not yet; not yet; I have not found it。''
  Days passed; weeks crept slowly on; still he worked; but always with
  the same result。 One day; feverish and excited; he played on in monotone
  almost listless。 His tired; over…wrought brain denied a further thought。 His
  arm     and   fingers   refused    response     to  his  will。  With    an   uncontrollable
  outburst of grief and anger he dashed the violin to the floor; where it lay a
  hopeless wreck。 Extending his arms he cried; in the agony of despair: ‘‘It
  is   of   no   use!   If   the   God   of   heaven   will   not   aid   me;   I   ask   the   prince   of
  darkness to come。''
  A tall; rather spare; but well…made and handsome man appeared at the
  door of the hut。 His manner was that of one evidently conversant with the
  usages of good society。
  ‘‘I beg pardon;'' said the musician; surprised and visibly nettled at the
  intrusion;   and   then   with   forced   politeness   he   asked:   ‘‘To   whom   am   I
  indebted for this unexpected visit?''
  ‘‘Allow me;'' said the stranger taking a card from his case and handing
  it to the musician; who read: ‘‘Satan;'' and; in the lower left…hand corner
  ‘‘Prince of Darkness。''
  ‘‘I am the Prince;'' said the stranger; bowing low。
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  There was no hint of the pavement… made ruler in the information he
  gave; but rather of the desire of one gentleman to set another right at the
  beginning。   The   musician   assumed   a   position   of   open…mouthed   wonder;
  gazing steadily at the visitor。
  ‘‘Satan?'' he whispered hoarsely。
  ‘‘You need help and advice;'' said the visitor; his voice sounding like
  that of a disciple of the healing art; and implying that he had thoroughly
  diagnosed the case。
  ‘‘No;   no;''   cried   the   shuddering   violinist;   ‘‘go   away。   I   do   not   need
  you。''
  ‘‘I regret I can not accept that statement as gospel truth;'' said Satan;
  sarcastically; ‘‘for if ever a man needed help; you are that man。''
  ‘‘But not from you;'' replied Diotti。
  ‘‘That statement is discredited also by your outburst of a few moments
  ago when you called upon me。''
  ‘‘I   do   not   need   you;''   reiterated   the   musician。   ‘‘I   will   have   none   of
  you!'' and he waved his arm toward the door; as if he desired the interview
  to end。
  ‘‘I came at   your behest; actuated entirely by kindness of heart;'' said
  Satan。
  Diotti laughed derisively; and Satan; showing just the slightest feeling
  at Diotti's   behavior; said   reprovingly:   ‘‘If you   will   listen a   moment;   and
  not be so rude to an utter stranger; we may reach some conclusion to your
  benefit。''
  ‘‘Get thee behind''
  ‘‘I know   exactly  what   you   were   about to   say。  Have   no   fears on that
  score。 I have no demands to make and no impossible compacts to   insist
  upon。''
  ‘‘I have heard of you before;'' know… ingly spoke the violinist nodding
  his head sadly。
  ‘‘No doubt you have;'' smilingly。 ‘‘My reputation; which has suffered
  at the hands of irresponsible people; is not of the best; and places me at
  times   in   awkward   positions。   But   I   am   beginning   to   live   it   down。''   The
  stranger looked contrition itself。 ‘‘To prove my sincerity I desire to help
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  you win her love;'' emphasizing her。
  ‘‘How can you help me?''
  ‘‘Very easily。 You have been wasting time; energy and health in a wild
  desire to play better。 The trouble lies not with you。''
  ‘‘Not with me?'' interrupted the violinist; now thoroughly interested。
  ‘‘The   trouble   lies   not   with   you;''   repeated   the   visitor;   ‘‘but   with   the
  miserable   violin   you   have   been   using   and   have   just   destroyed;''   and   he
  pointed to the shattered instrument。
  Tears     welled     from    the   poor    violinist's    eyes   as   he   gazed     on   the
  fragments   of   his   beloved   violin;   the   pieces   lying   scattered   about   as   the
  result of his unfortunate anger。
  ‘‘It was a Stradivarius;'' said Diotti; sadly。
  ‘‘Had   it   been   a   Stradivarius;   an Amati   or   a   Guarnerius;   or   a   host   of
  others rolled into one; you would not have found in it the melody to win
  the    heart    of  the   woman       you    love。   Get    a   better   and    more     suitable
  instrument。''
  ‘‘Where   is one?''   earnestly  interrogated   Diotti; vaguely  realizing   that
  Satan knew。
  ‘‘In my possession;'' Satan replied。
  ‘‘She   would   hate   me   if   she   knew   I   had   recourse   to   the   powers   of
  darkness to gain her love;'' bitterly interposed Diotti。
  Satan;   wincing   at   this   uncomplimentary   allusion   to   himself;   replied
  rather    warmly:      ‘‘My    dear    sir;  were    it  not  for   the  fact   that   I  feel  in
  particularly      good    spirits   this   morning;      I  should    resent    your    ill…timed
  remarks      and    leave   you    to  end   your    miserable     existence     with    rope   or
  pistol;'' and Satan pantomimed both suicidal contingencies。
  ‘‘Do you want the violin or not?''
  ‘‘I might look at it;'' said Diotti; resolving mentally that he could go so
  far without harm。
  ‘‘Very well;'' said Satan。 He gave a long whistle。
  An old man; bearing a violin case; came within the room。 He bowed to
  the    wondering       Diotti;    and    proceeded      to   open    the   case。    Taking     the
  instrument   out   the  old   man   fondled   it   with   loving   and tender   solicitude;
  pointing out   its   many  beautiesthe   exquisite  blending of   the  curves;   the
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  evenness of the grain; the peculiar coloring; the lovely contour of the neck;
  the graceful outlines of the body; the scroll; rivaling the creations of the
  ancient sculptors; the solidity of the bridge and its elegantly carved heart;
  and;    waxing      exceedingly      enthusiastic;      holding    up    the  instrument      and
  looking at it a