And one day after another passed like that, and the weight of his
flesh was heavy about him. But little by little as he grew weaker he
knew there were some greater than himself in the room with him, and
that the house began to be filled with them; and it seemed to him
they had all power in their hands, and that they might with one touch
of the hand break down the wall the hardness of pain had built about
him, and take him into their own world. And sometimes he could hear
voices, very faint and joyful, crying from the rafters or out of the
flame on the hearth, and other times the whole house was filled with
music that went through it like a wind. And after a while his
weakness left no place for pain, and there grew up about him a great
silence like the silence in the heart of a lake, and there came
through it like the flame of a rushlight the faint joyful voices ever
and always.
One morning he heard music somewhere outside the door, and as the day
passed it grew louder and louder until it drowned the faint joyful
voices, and even Winny's cry upon the hillside at the fall of
evening. About midnight and in a moment, the walls seemed to melt
away and to leave his bed floating on a pale misty light that shone
on every side as far as the eye could see; and after the first
blinding of his eyes he saw that it was full of great shadowy figures
rushing here and there.
At the same time the music came very clearly to him, and he knew that
it was but the continual clashing of swords.
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