He turned his eyes to Drake with sudden energy.
"Don't pity me, Lord Angleford. There is no need."
Drake took his other hand and pressed it.
"You must get well soon, or her--our--happiness will be marred,
Falconer," he said warmly.
Falconer nodded.
"I shall get well," he said. "I am better already. We artists are never
beyond consolation. Art is a jealous mistress, and will brook no rival."
"And you worship a mistress who will make you famous," said Drake.
Falconer smiled.
"We are content, though she should deny us so much as that," he said.
"Art is its own reward."
Nell rose from her knees and stole from the room. When she had gone,
Falconer raised his head and looked long and seriously at Drake.
"Be good to her, my lord," he said, very gravely. "You have won a great
prize, a ruby without a blemish; value it, cherish it."
Drake nodded.
"I know," he said simply.
Nell stole into the room again. She was carrying Falconer's violin
carefully, tenderly. She put it in his hands, held out eagerly to
receive it, and he placed it in position, turned it swiftly, and began
to play, his eyes fixed on hers gratefully.
Nell and Drake withdrew to the window, their heads reverently bent.
He played slowly, softly at first, a sad and yet exquisitely sweet
melody; then the strain grew louder, though not the less sweet, and the
tiny room was throbbing with music which expressed a joy which only
music could voice.
Drake's hand stole toward Nell's, and grasped it firmly. Her head
drooped and the tears rose to her eyes, and soon began to trickle down
her cheeks. The exquisite music seemed to reach her soul and raise it to
the seventh heaven, in even which there are tears.
"Drake!" she murmured. "Drake!"
"Nell, my dearest!" he responded, in a whisper.
Then suddenly the music ceased. Falconer slowly dropped the violin on
the bed and fell back, his eyes closed, his face as calm as that of a
child falling to sleep.
"Go now," whispered Nell; and Drake stole from the room, leaving Nell
kneeling beside the musician, who had apparently fallen asleep.
Drake went down the stairs like a man in a dream, the strange, weird
music still ringing in his ears, and walked up to the Hall.
The countess met him as he entered, and he took her hand and led her
into the library without a word.