CHAPTER II.

ayer-meetings,wasveryfarawayfromthislandinwhichhehadtakenrefuge,wheremenlivedincarelessabundance,knowingandneedingnothingofthattrust,which,forhim,hadbeenturnedtobitterness.Thelittlelighthepossessedspreaditsbeamssonarrowly,thatfrustratedbeliefwasacurtainbroadenoughtocreateforhimtheblacknessofnight. Hisfirstmovementaftertheshockhadbeentoworkinhisloomandhewentonwiththisunremittingly,neveraskinghimselfwhy,nowhewascometoRaveloe,heworkedfaronintothenighttofinishthetaleofMrs.Osgood’stable-linensoonerthansheexpected—withoutcontemplatingbeforehandthemoneyshewouldputintohishandforthework.Heseemedtoweave,likethespider,frompureimpulse,withoutreflection.Everyman’swork,pursuedsteadily,tendsinthiswaytobecomeanendinitself,andsotobridgeoverthelovelesschasmsofhislife.Silas’shandsatisfieditselfwiththrowingtheshuttle,andhiseyewithseeingthelittlesquaresintheclothcompletethemselvesunderhiseffort.ThentherewerethecallsofhungerandSilas,inhissolitude,hadtoprovidehisownbreakfast,dinner,andsupper,tofetchhisownwaterfromthewell,andputhisownkettleonthefireandalltheseimmediatepromptingshelped,alongwiththeweaving,toreducehislifetotheunquestioningactivityofaspinninginsect.Hehatedthethoughtofthepasttherewasnothingthatcalledouthisloveandfellowshiptowardthestrangershehadcomeamongstandthefuturewasalldark,fortherewasnoUnseenLovethatcaredforhim.Thoughtwasarrestedbyutterbewilderment,nowitsoldnarrowpathwaywasclosed,andaffectionseemedtohavediedunderthebruisethathadfallenonitskeenestnerves. ButatlastMrs.Osgood’stable-linenwasfinished,andSilaswaspaidingold.Hisearningsinhisnativetown,whereheworkedforawholesaledealer,hadbeenafteralowerratehehadbeenpaidweekly,andofhisweeklyearningsalargeproportionhadgonetoobjectsofpietyandcharity.Now,forthefirsttimeinhislife,hehadfivebrightguineasputintohishandnomanexpectedashareofthem,andhelovednomanthatheshouldofferhimashare.Butwhatweretheguineastohimwhosawnovistabeyondcountlessdaysofweaving?Itwasneedlessforhimtoaskthat,foritwaspleasanttohimtofeeltheminhispalm,andlookattheirbrightfaces,whichwereallhisown:itwasanotherelementoflife,liketheweavingandthesatisfactionofhunger,subsistingquitealooffromthelifeofbeliefandlovefromwhichhehadbeencutoff.Theweaver’shandhadknownthetouchofhard-wonmoneyevenbeforethepalmhadgrowntoitsfullbreadthfortwentyyears,mysteriousmoneyhadstoodtohimasthesymbolofearthlygood,andtheimmediateobjectoftoil.Hehadseemedtoloveitlittleintheyearswheneverypennyhaditspurposeforhimforhelovedthepurposethen.Butnow,whenallpurposewasgone,thathabitoflookingtowardsthemoneyandgraspingitwithasenseoffulfilledeffortmadealoamthatwasdeepenoughfortheseedsofdesireandasSilaswalkedhomewardacrossthefieldsinthetwilight,hedrewoutthemoneyandthoughtitwasbrighterinthegatheringgloom. Aboutthistimeanincidenthappenedwhichseemedtoopenapossibilityofsomefellowshipwithhisneighbours.Oneday,takingapairofshoestobemended,hesawthecobbler’swifeseatedbythefire,sufferingfromtheterriblesymptomsofhe