The Argosy — page 57: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

44 The Spirit Organist of Seville. daughter, had been unavailing to prevent him from rising from his bed. “No,” he had said, ‘I cannot die without visiting my organ. I know this will be the last time, and on this night, above all others— Christmas Eve—I must play upon it once more. I wish it; nay, I - command it. Convey me to the church.” He was a good man; poor indeed, but charitable to a degree. Many churches had sought to engage him, and even the Arch- bishop had offered him a heap of gold to induce him to be the organist of the cathedral; but he would sooner part with life than leave his dear old organ at the convent church of Santa Inéz. His organ was old, but so skilful were his hands, and so loving, that beneath them it pealed forth wonderful notes. Poor man! he had been blind from his birth; yet lately he had spoken of hopes of seeing. ‘‘ Yes, and very soon,” he would add, smiling, with a far-off look in his face; ‘I have already lived seventy-six years, and how- ever long my life may be, I shall soon see in the spirit world.” So his wishes on this Christmas Eve were complied with, ill though he was. His friends conveyed him to church; he took his seat in the organ gallery, and the mass commenced. When the clock of the cathedral was heard striking the hour of twelve, the first part of the mass had been performed, and the moment had come when the priest, after his consecration, proceeds _ to elevate the wafer. A cloud of incense—which rose up in blue undulating waves—filled the church. The bells rang with a vibra- ting sound, and Maese Perez placed his trembling hands upon the Keys of the organ. The hundred voices of its metal tubes resounded in a majestic chord, which was prolonged until it gradually died away as though a breeze of wind had ravished its last echoes. This first chord, which sounded like a voice rising from earth to heaven, was responded to by another, far distant and soft, but which continued swelling until it became atorrent of high-sounding harmony. It was like the voice of angels, traversing space and coming down to the world. Then began to be heard a marvellous hymn, sounding from far away as though sung by hierarchies of seraphim: a thousand voices at once, yet which mingled together formed one alone. Yet even this was but an accompaniment to a still higher and more heavenly strain which seemed to float above this ocean of celestial music, like mists over the waves of the sea. Then the angelic voices of this heavenly choir became hushed one by one; only two voices remained at length answering each other—then one alone sustaining a divine clear note, like a vibrating beam of light! . . The celebrant priest bowed low, and above his venerable, hoary head, and as though across a blue gauze formed by the incense cloud, the Host — was rajsed. At that instant the note which Maese Perez held down opened wide and wider still, until a tremendous outburst of harmony CORNICE LOOKS aECO©