Eben Holden: A Tale of the North Country

by Irving Bacheller

  Chapter 33

  That very night, I looked in at the little shop beneath us and metRiggs. It was no small blessing, just as I was entering upon darkand unknown ways of life, to meet this hoary headed man with all hislanterns. He would sell you anchors and fathoms of chain and rope enoughto hang you to the moon but his 'lights' were the great attraction ofRiggs's. He had every kind of lantern that had ever swung on land orsea. After dark, when light was streaming out of its open door and broadwindow Riggs's looked like the side of an old lantern itself. It wasa door, low and wide, for a time when men had big round bellies andnothing to do but fill them and heads not too far above their business.It was a window gone blind with dust and cobwebs so it resembled the dimeye of age. If the door were closed its big brass knocker and massiveiron latch invited the passer. An old ship's anchor and a coil ofchain lay beside it. Blocks and heavy bolts, steering wheels, old brasscompasses, coils of rope and rusty chain lay on the floor and benches,inside the shop. There were rows of lanterns, hanging on the bare beams.And there was Riggs. He sat by a dusty desk and gave orders in a sleepy,drawling tone to the lad who served him. An old Dutch lantern, its lightsoftened with green glass, sent a silver bean across the gloomy upperair of the shop that evening. Riggs held an old un lantern with littlestreams of light bursting through its perforated walls. He was blind.One would know it at a glance. Blindness is so easy to be seen. Riggswas showing it to a stranger.

  'Turn down the lights,' he said and the boy got his step-ladder andobeyed him.

  Then he held it aloft in the dusk and the little lantern was like acastle tower with many windows lighted, and, when he set it down, therewas a golden sprinkle on the floor as if something had plashed into amagic pool of light there in the darkness.

  Riggs lifted the lantern, presently, and stood swinging it in his hand.Then its rays were sown upon the darkness falling silently into everynook and corner of the gloomy shop and breaking into flowing dapples onthe wall.

  'See how quick it is!' said he as the rays flashed with the speed oflightning. 'That is the only traveller from Heaven that travels fastenough to ever get to earth.

  Then came the words that had a mighty fitness for his tongue.

  'Hail, holy light! Offspring of Heaven first born.

  His voice rose and fell, riding the mighty rhythm of inspired song. Ashe stood swinging the lantern, then, he reminded me of a chanting priestbehind the censer. In a moment he sat down, and, holding the lanternbetween his knees, opened its door and felt the candle. Then as thelight streamed out upon his hands, he rubbed them a time, silently, asif washing them in the bright flood.

  'One dollar for this little box of daylight,' he said.

  'Blind?' said the stranger as he paid him the money.

  'No,' said Riggs, 'only dreaming as you are.

  I wondered what he meant by the words 'dreaming as you are.

  'Went to bed on my way home to marry,' he continued, stroking his longwhite beard, 'and saw the lights go out an' went asleep and it hasn'tcome morning yet--that's what I believe. I went into a dream. Think I'mhere in a shop talking but I'm really in my bunk on the good ship Aridcoming home. Dreamed everything since then--everything a man could thinkof. Dreamed I came home and found Annie dead, dreamed of blindness, ofold age, of poverty, of eating and drinking and sleeping and of manypeople who pass like dim shadows and speak to me--you are one of them.And sometimes I forget I am dreaming and am miserable, and then Iremember and am happy. I know when the morning comes I shall wake andlaugh at all these phantoms. And I shall pack my things and go up ondeck, for we shall be in the harbour probably--ay! maybe Annie andmother will be waving their hands on the dock!

  The old face had a merry smile as he spoke of the morning and all it hadfor him.

  'Seems as if it had lasted a thousand years,' he continued, yawning andrubbing his eyes. 'But I've dreamed the like before, and, my God! howglad I felt when I woke in the morning.

  It gave me an odd feeling--this remarkable theory of the old man. Ithought then it would be better for most of us if we could think all ourmisery a dream and have his faith in the morning--that it would bringback the things we have lost. I had come to buy a lock for my door, butI forgot my errand and sat down by Riggs while the stranger went awaywith his lantern.

  'You see no reality in anything but happiness,' I said.

  'It's all a means to that end,' he answered. 'It is good for me, thisdream. I shall be all the happier when I do wake, and I shall love Annieall the better, I suppose.

  'I wish I could take my bad luck as a dream and have faith only in goodthings,' I said.

  'All that is good shall abide,' said he, stroking his white beard, 'andall evil shall vanish as the substance of a dream. In the end the onlyrealities are God and love and Heaven. To die is just like waking up inthe morning.

  'But I know I'm awake,' I said.

  'You think you are--that's a part of your dream. Sometimes I think I'mawake--it all seems so real to me. But I have thought it out, and I amthe only man I meet that knows he is dreaming. When you'do wake, in themorning, you may remember how you thought you came to a certain shop andmade some words with a man as to whether you were both dreaming, and youwill laugh and tell your friends about it. Hold on! I can feel the shiplurching. I believe I am going to wake.

  He sat a moment leaning back in his chair with closed eyes, and asilence fell upon us in the which I could hear only the faint ticking ofa tall clock that lifted its face out of the gloom beyond me.

  'You there?' he whispered presently.

  'I am here,' I said.

  'Odd!' he muttered. 'I know how it will be--I know how it has beenbefore. Generally come to some high place and a great fear seizes me. Islip, I fall--fall--fall, and then I wake.

  After a little silence I heard him snoring heavily. He was still leaningback in his chair. I walked on tiptoe to the door where the boy stoodlooking out.

  'Crazy?' I whispered.

  'Dunno,' said he, smiling.

  I went to my room above and wrote my first tale, which was nothing moreor less than some brief account of what I had heard and seen down atthe little shop that evening. I mailed it next day to the Knickerbocker,with stamps for return if unavailable.