"THE NIGHT SHALL BE FILLED WITH MUSIC"
The prima donna who grew so fond of Mike discovered several interesting
facts about him, aside from his marvellous tenor voice. He had the talent
of improvisation. When they became well enough acquainted for him to feel
at ease in her presence, he sang bits of melody that were his own
composition. She was delighted and encouraged him to cultivate the gift.
Of course he knew nothing about playing any instrument, but under her
instruction he quickly picked up the art of accompanying himself on the
piano. The music which he sang was of the simplest nature and the chords
suggested themselves to his ear.
Another peculiarity of the lad was that, despite his exuberant,
rollicking nature, he had no taste for humorous music. When she asked him
to sing a lively song, he shook his head. He not only knew none, but had
no wish to learn any. His liking was for sentiment and tenderness of
feeling. Moore's melodies were his favorites and he knew few others. At
the last meeting of Mike and the lady she gave him a fragment of verse
which she had cut from a paper and asked him to compose a melody for it.
He promised to try.
With this rather lengthy explanation, and the fact that neither Alvin
Landon nor Chester Haynes had ever heard him sing, though both had
noticed that his voice was peculiarly clear, you will understand the
surprise that awaited them when he walked to the piano and reluctantly
sat down. The hoarseness which followed his shouting when marooned on
White Islands was gone and his notes were as clear as a bell.
Every one expected a mirth-provoking song when he placed his foot on the
pedal and his fingers touched the keys. Even Widow Friestone smiled in
anticipation, while Alvin and Chester feared that in his ignorance of
true singing his attempts would become comical to the last degree. The
listeners glanced significantly to one another, while he was bringing out
a few preliminary notes.
Suddenly into the room burst the most ravishing music from the sweetest
voice they had ever heard.
"The harp that once through Tara's halls
The soul of music shed,
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls
As if that soul were fled.
So sleeps the pride of former days,
So glory's thrill is o'er,
And hearts that once beat high for praise,
Now feel that pulse no more."
With the same bewitching sweetness he sang the remaining stanza, and then
paused with his fingers idly rambling over the keys, as if in doubt what
next to do.
There was no applause. Not a person moved or seemed to breathe. Then
Alvin and Chester looked wonderingly at each other, as if doubting their
own senses. Whoever imagined that Mike Murphy was gifted with so
wonderful a voice? It seemed as if they were dreaming and were waiting
for the spell to lift.
It would have been affectation on the part of Mike to pretend he was
ignorant of the effect he had produced. He had seen it too often in the
past, and he knew the great songstress on the steamer would not have said
what she did had there not been good basis therefor. So, without seeming
to notice the hush--the most sincere tribute possible--he sang the old
favorite "Mavourneen," and at its conclusion "Annie Laurie," with a
liquidity of tone that was never surpassed by throat of nightingale.
At its conclusion he swung round on the stool, sprang up and dropped into
the nearest chair, looking about as if doubtful of the reception that was
to attend his efforts.
Nora was the first to rally. She uttered one ecstatic "Oh!" bounded
across the floor, threw her dimpled arms about his neck and kissed him on
the cheek.
"You darling! You sing like an angel!"
"Nothing could be sweeter," added the smiling mother. Mike gently kissed
the girl on her forehead, and did not release her until she drew away.
"Ye're very kind. It's mesilf is glad me efforts seemed to plaise ye,
though I'm in doubt as to the Captain and second mate."
Alvin walked silently across the floor and reached out his hand.
"Glad to know ye," replied Mike, with a grin, looking up in the face that
had actually turned slightly pale. "What is yer name, plaise?"
Chester joined his chum.
"Mike, Alvin and I were silent, for we didn't know what to say. You have
given us the surprise of our lives. I am no singer and never can be, but
I would give a hundred thousand dollars, if I had it, for your voice.
Alvin makes some pretensions. He is the leader of his school quartette,
but he can't equal you."
"Equal him!" sniffed the Captain. "If Mike ever shows himself where our
quartette is trying to sing, I shall make every one shut up to save
ourselves from disgrace. As for Mike, we'll give him the choice to sing
for us or to be killed."
Chester asked reprovingly:
"Why didn't you let us know about this before?"
"Ye didn't ask me, and what could be the difference if ye didn't find it
out? Ye wouldn't have larned the same if Nora and her mither hadn't
insisted that I should entertain them, as I tried to do."
"You are a queer make-up," replied Alvin, with a laugh.
"Since ye are the leader, Captain, of yer quartette at school, it's up to
ye to obleege the company wid something in their line."
Nora added her entreaties.
"We know you can do very well, Alvin, though of course not half so well
as Mike, for _nobody_ can do that," was the naive argument of the miss.
"No, sir," said Alvin emphatically, and, assuming deep solemnity, he
raised his hand. "I vow that I will never, never sing in Mike's presence.
I can stand a joke as well as most persons, but that is the limit. Here's
Chester, however. He will be glad to give Mike a few lessons."
The fun of it was that Chester could not sing the chromatic scale
correctly if his life were at stake. He was not rattled by the request.
"Mike, can you play the accompaniment to 'Greenville'?" he asked.
"How does it go? Hum the same fur me so I can catch it."
Chester stood up and "hummed," but without the slightest resemblance to
any tune that the others had ever heard.
"That gits me," commented Mike, "as Teddy O'Rourke said whin the
p'liceman grabbed him. If ye'll sthrike in I'll do my best to keep wid
ye."
"No, sir; I decline to play second fiddle to anyone," and Chester resumed
his seat as if in high dudgeon.
At this moment Nora asked of Mike:
"Did you ever make up music for yourself?"
"I have tried once or twice, but didn't do much."
"Oh, please sing us something of your own."
"A leddy on the steamer that brought me over give me some printed words
one day wid the requist that I should try to put some music to 'em. I
furgot the same till after she had gone, but I'll make the effort if ye
all won't be too hard on me."
(This was the only reference that Mike was ever heard to make to the
incidents recorded in the previous chapter.)
And then the Irish lad sang "The Sweet Long Ago."