The Launch Boys' Adventures in Northern Waters - Edward Sylvester Ellis (bookreader TXT) 📗

/> CHAPTER XIV

"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."


CHAPTER XV

A KNOCK AT THE DOOR

Alvin easily caught the swing of the bass and sang when the chorus was reached. Mike barely touched the keys, bringing out a few faint chords that could not add to the sweetness of his voice. Mrs. Friestone sat motionless, looking intently at him until he came to the last words. Then she abruptly took off her glasses and put her handkerchief to her eyes.

The sweet long ago! Again she saw the handsome, sturdy youth when he returned from the war for the defence of his country, as brave, as resolute, as aflame with patriotism as in his earlier years, but with frame wrenched by painful wounds. Their lives were inexpressibly happy from the time she became a bride, and their maturer age was blessed by the gift of darling Nora. Existence became one grand sweet dream--more happy, more radiant and more a foretaste of what awaited them all in the great beyond. That loved form had vanished in the sweet long ago, but the memory could never fade or grow dim.

It was the song that brought back the picture with a vividness it had not worn for many a year. The tears would come, and Nora, glancing at her mother, buried her face in her own handkerchief and sobbed. Alvin and Chester sat silent, and Mike, turning gently on the stool, looked sympathetically at mother and daughter.

"Thank you, Mike," came a soft, choking voice from behind the snowy bit of linen, and the brave lad winked rapidly and fought back the tears that crowded into his honest eyes.

It was not strange that the effect of Mike Murphy's beautiful singing of the touching songs brooded like a benison throughout the evening. Even Nora, when asked to favor them again, shook her head.

"Not after Mike," she replied, her eyes gleaming more brightly through the moisture not yet dried.

It was impossible for the Irish lad to restrain his humor, and soon he had them all smiling, but there was no loud laughter such as greeted his first sallies, and the conversation as a whole was soberer and more thoughtful. Alvin and Chester told of their school experiences, and finally Mike related his adventure when marooned on the lonely island well out toward the Atlantic and his friends found him after they had given him up as drowned.

So the evening wore away until, at a seasonable hour, the head of the household said that when they wished to retire she would show them to their room. Just then Mike had his hand over his mouth in the effort to repress a yawn. Nora laughingly pointed at him.

"In a few minutes he'll be asleep and will tumble off his chair."

"I'm afeard ye're right, as I replied to me tacher whin he obsarved that I was the biggest numskull in Tipperary County. Come, Captain and sicond mate--ye won't forgit, Miss Nora, that I'm _first_ mate of the battleship _Deerfut_."

The girl went to the kitchen from which she speedily returned, carrying a hand lamp, which she gave to her mother. She nodded to the lads, who followed her to the door of the apartment assigned them for the night. They entered behind her as she set the light on the stand and turned about.

"I think you will find everything