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Updated: May 18, 2025
Nothing but the blue sky, in which the sun was on its downward course, the house, and the walls of living green, were visible. Out of this Eden-like spot we passed into another wing of the building with large windows looking out upon it. Rayel met us at the door, dressed in a black robe of silk that hung gracefully from his shoulders.
The sick man was asleep, and I went at once to the library, where Rayel soon came, as was his custom in the afternoon, for a lesson in talking. Both my uncle and myself had taken great pains to teach him this accomplishment, and his progress had been even more rapid than we thought possible.
On a large canvas that was stretched across it I saw a likeness of myself. The eyes wore a haggard look which seemed unnatural. But there was something strangely real about it, in spite of that. "Wonderful!" said I. Rayel started at the sound of my voice, and glanced from one to the other with a puzzled, inquiring look. Turning to his father, he uttered some strange monosyllable in a deep voice.
The twilight of a cloudless autumn day was closing in upon the city, and the keen, bracing winds which sweep over the American metropolis from the sea brought the color to our faces. We walked down Broadway, now quite deserted, in silence, and as we were passing Wallack's Theatre Rayel stopped suddenly, and stood for a moment looking into the brightly lighted foyer.
Hester had decided to stay a day or two with her mother, but it was necessary for Rayel and me to return to London that night, as we were to make an important call the next day. Late in the afternoon of the day following our visit to Liverpool we ascended the big stone steps of my old home and pulled the bell.
Until the fading twilight blended all color into gloom I passed from one canvas to another along the wall in silence, oblivious of all save the presence of Rayel, who followed close at my elbow, evidently enjoying my admiration of his work. When I had finished looking at the paintings I turned for some sign to indicate his further pleasure, and discovered that he was gone.
What is there in it that thrills me so strangely? When she ceases speaking she is standing almost within reach of my hand. Suddenly her eyes meet mine and I see Hester Chaffin standing there on the stage and looking into my face. She recognizes me, for she seems confused and proceeds with evident embarrassment. I turned to Rayel he, too, was deeply moved by this great surprise.
In a moment the swelling cry broke into a sharp scream, such as might come from one exposed to sudden peril, and ceased. Then the sound of a bell rang sharply through the house, followed by loud knocking at the door and a man's shout. "Open the door, I command you!" he said. He must have heard that piercing cry. Rayel still lay motionless upon the floor. Was he asleep? Why did he not rise?
Something was needed for a cue a starting-point. Ten pregnant words of Sanscrit were all we needed. It was easy then." "I should think he would have lost the power of speech and hearing," I remarked. "No. Music saved them abstract music. His voice is wonderful. His hearing is quick. Rayel knows words but not speech. His mind has command of my knowledge.
Rayel and I went directly home for a bath and a change of clothing, after which we proceeded at once to Hester's apartments. Evidently somewhat fatigued by the day's experience, Rayel had little to say while we were eating dinner. It was arranged that we would start for England by the first steamer on which we could secure a comfortable passage.
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