ous disappearance, without being in the
least cleared up, gradually faded from men's minds and passed out of
their conversation.
Months and years passed away, and nothing was known of the poor man.
His son, now come to the years of manhood, always declared that his
father would not have been absent from the trial willingly; and he
firmly believed that he had met with a violent death. More than this
he would not say; but sometimes when he looked towards Monsieur
Baptiste Lacombe,--still the respected organist of the church,--his
eyes were observed to flash meaningly.
There was to be a grand _fete_ in the church, and great preparation
was made. As the organ needed repairs, it was decided to repair it
thoroughly; and one of the builders from Bordeaux was sent for.
He was to come on Thursday; but he chanced to arrive the day before,
and was to begin work early the following morning. That night a
light glimmered out of the darkness of the gallery of the church.
Two days passed. The repairing of the organ went on; but there was
much to be done, and it might take a week. One afternoon, as
Francois passed through the centre of the village, two men came
hurriedly out of the town-house, and hastened away towards the
church. It was the organ-builder, very much excited, and one of the
officials of the town. The young man, venturing on his well-known
skill as an organist, followed them; and the three entered the
building. A few worshippers were at the great altar, and the sacred
edifice seemed unusually quiet and peaceful.
The organ-builder seemed too agitated to answer the questions that
the town official asked him, but led the way quickly to the
organ-loft. "Put your foot on that pedal!" he said excitedly,
pointing to a particular one of the scale.
The official was too bewildered to comply, and Francois did it for
him.
"Now try the next one!" said he.
Francois did so, but no sound came; only a queer, intermittent
rumbling, like a bounding and rebounding.
"It does not sound," said the organ-builder. "Follow me and I will
show you why."
"It never has sounded since the great trial-day, years ago,"
muttered the young man. But he followed on.
They clambered up a rickety staircase, a still more rickety ladder,
and came to a platform at a level with the top of the organ; and all
around them, reaching up out of the dim light below, wer
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