THE DYKGRAVE'S RETURN
47
Vigor. In the echoes of his music he seemed to hear again the gentle tones of the Dykgrave's voice, and even to see something of his profound look in the velvety darkness. Strange contradiction: notwithstanding this enthusiasm, the poor boy felt his heart swell, his throat tighten, and his eyes ready for tears—and were they sometimes cries of distress, or appeals for help, that his instrument addressed to his distant protector, who still heard them not less overcome with sympathetic distress, long after they died away beneath the exceptionally solemn elms?
