BILL KELLAR.
"He is coaxing again, that violin-loving devil."
New Year's Eve had come, and Bill Kellar sat before a log-fire in his
sitting-room, glad that he had given his violin into Lizzi's charge the
night of her birthday ball. Since then he had not seen it, though his
fingers had often itched for the strings, and his arm longed for the
bow.
"He is there, the red salamander; and already his tempting has ceased.
Now he commands. Soon he will threaten. Well, let him; I will not give
up this time."
Bill looked resolutely into the fire, as if resolved to stare the
tempter out of countenance. He ran his thin hand through his long hair,
and seemed quite satisfied with his powers of resistance.
"Lord! what is that?" he cried suddenly, and started to his feet. For a
while he was motionless, gazing at the flames leaping up the chimney.
Presently he muttered, "Sure as I live, the devil wears a mask, and a
queer one. The eyes are curiously long with curving corners, and set up
and down in his face. The nose is long, with a high bridge. The chin is
turned up, and has fiddle-screws through it. The devil holds a
violin-bow in one hand, and in the other a scourge of fiddle-strings.
Something has happened to my fiddle, my dear old violin."
He covered his face with his hands, and wept convulsively.
"I thought my fiddle would be as safe in Lizzi's keeping as her honor."
His clock struck ten.
"I will have to go." The resolution formed, he removed his hands from
his face, and dried his tears on a bandanna handkerchief. Then he
continued the soliloquy.
"I meant to fight it out this time, and let Satan go without his New
Year's dance. I could have sat here until morning and shaken with
chills-and-fever until my teeth dropped out; but I can't stand this
uncertainty about the fate of my violin. This suspense would make me
mad--madder far than the noises of the city would have done; madder than
crazy Lear; crazier far than that lunatic Bill Kellar has ever been."
"Yes, you soul-thief, redder than the flames around you. I will go to
see the waif, my child that I abandoned for fear of you and your
shivers; and if it is well with the darling, you know you will get your
annual Harvest dance. For I must needs caress the baby, and to the music
of its glad laugh you will kick your cloven hoof, you superannuated old
fiend. What have I done that you must select me for your soloist on the
violin?"
As he talked, Bill looked steadily at the flames as if at the face of a
person. When he had thus relieved his mind he took down his heavy coat,
and nervously buttoned it round him. Snatching his hat, he jammed it
over his eyes and opened the door. With one hand on the latch, he turned
and glanced over his shoulder. The apparition had vanished.
"The devil is mighty eager for a dance, else my old eyes have been
making a fool of me."
Leaving the door wide open, he returned to the fireplace. He waited a
while, but did not see the face in the fire.
With a glad shout he suddenly ran to the door, and slammed it shut.
"I'm free, free!" he cried, clapping his hands gleefully.
Hanging his coat and hat on their pegs, he sat down before the fire, and
congratulated himself on his liberty. But his cheerful mood did not last
long. Soon he began to shiver, and in the fire beheld the devil return.
"Oh, Lord! he is back. I am still his slave. He has not removed the
violin-mask. Yes, yes, I go to my child."
Bareheaded he plunged into the cold, which he did not mind, and the
darkness, which he did not heed, for his way was marked by the light of
the Three-Sister furnaces, reflected by the clouds.
Lizzi was at the window, listening to the gunshots--the farewell volleys
to the old year, the welcoming salute to the new--when a cold, nervous
hand was laid on her shoulder. She had not heard the door open, but as
it was like any one of the boys to steal up behind her and say something
humorous in her ear she sat still, and continued to watch for the
flashes of the guns.
"Lizzi, what has happened to my fiddle?"
Recognizing Bill Kellar's voice, harsh as it was, she caught his hand in
a hard grip and turned, not knowing whether she would face a lunatic or
a drunken man, but afraid of neither.
He was not intoxicated nor seemingly crazy, only intensely eager. His
eyes were not wild, but pathetically pleading as they met hers.
"Nothin', Bill," she replied gently. "It's just as you left it. I keep
it in the cupboard, and Blind Benner dusts it often."
His fast walk, which had been a sort of run over the frozen road, had
worn Bill out, and he almost swooned with joy when he heard the good
news. As he gasped for breath his body swayed, and he would have fallen
had she not supported him with her free hand--he still clung to the
other--and helped him to a chair. While she stood beside him he kissed
her hand frequently as he silently wept. She did not take it away nor
forbid him to caress it. Understanding his emotion, she allowed it to
express itself in the way it chose.
Presently he became less demonstrative and said:
"Now please give me the fiddle, Lizzi."
She opened the cupboard, and handed him the box. He was so nervous that
he could not fit the key in the lock, and Lizzi did it for him. When the
lock sprung open he eagerly raised the lid, and there lay, bright and
unharmed, the violin that he loved as his life.
"The red devil wore that lying mask and forced me to come. He knew
chills-and-fever had about lost their terrors for me, so instead of
trying to force me that way, he threw me into an agony of suspense that
drove me here. Very well, King of Liars, your dance this time will be
short. Bill Kellar's nerves are too shaky and his brain too tired to
fiddle long for you to-night."
While he talked he tuned the violin. When it was in chord he began
playing a slow improvisation that calmed and rested him, but must have
made Satan angry, judging from the sarcastic smile that settled on the
fiddler's face.
He had not played longer than ten minutes when Blind Benner entered, and
sat down at Lizzi's feet.
Soon the spirit of the violin began to gain the mastery, and Bill's
playing became more rapid, his execution more emphatic. Then Blind
Benner knew that the demon of the music had woven its spell over his
master.
Rising, Blind Benner groped his way to the door and went out. Lizzi was
rather lethargic, not fully sympathizing with the violinist, yet
gradually yielding to the fascination of the music. Soon Benner came
back, with Hunch, who had his cornet. Bill's gleaming eyes caught sight
of it, and he rose, stamping his foot and shaking his head. Hunch gave
him a look of inquiry, and held up the horn.
"Yes; don't blow it to-night, for I've got Old Nick in my power, and he
must dance until I fall senseless, unable to play longer."
Hunch laid the horn on the table, and settled himself to see the end of
the violinist's madness. Blind Benner stood reverently near his maestro,
while Lizzi tried to hear the devil's hoof on the snow-covered roof.
Furiously Bill played out the old year, and in the new. Guns were
popping all around in the semi-darkness. The horn and the goblin were
silent. They had the power to break the spell of the music.
Suddenly the music ceased. Hunch caught the violin, and Lizzi seized in
her strong arms the falling player, who otherwise would have struck his
head on the bare floor as he sank into unconsciousness.