Chapter 15 Chapter 15 The Ruins of Jonah

Miss Campbell, the Melville brothers, and the two young men set off on this day after lunch.It was a crisp autumn day, with wisps of sunlight shining through the gaps in the thin clouds all the time.The ruins that add luster to the local area, the lively rocks gathered by the sea, the houses scattered on the undulating ground, and the sea rippled by the beautiful breeze in the distance, in the blurred light, all these seem to have changed With a sad face, he smiled under the sunshine. Visitors will never come today. There were fifty tourists on and off the steamboat the day before, and there may be so many tourists tomorrow.But today, Yona belongs entirely to its new inhabitants.When everyone walks into the ruins, there will never be anyone.

Everyone laughed and laughed all the way, and the good mood of Sam and Seb infected the companions.They chatted, walked back and forth, and walked far away across the gravel path.The path winds between low stone walls. At first, everyone stood in front of the Mike Lane crucifix, and everything was at its best.This beautiful red granite monolith fourteen inches high overlooking the main street is the only surviving of the 360 ​​crosses erected around the mid-sixteenth century during the island's Reformation. Oliver was right in wanting to sketch this magnificent building, beautifully constructed and beautifully set against the arid plains covered with gray weeds.

So Miss Campbell, the Melville brothers, and Oliver gathered about five hundred paces from the cross, so as to have a good view of the whole building.Oliver sat in the corner of a small wall and began to draw the level ground on which stood the MacRaine Cross. After a while, everyone noticed a figure trying to climb up the stone base of the cross. "Well," said Oliver, "what's the fellow breaking in for? If he'd been dressed in a monk's attire, and would have been in harmony with the picture, I'd probably bow down to him at the foot of this old cross." "Just a curious fellow, here to mess with you, Mr. Sinclair," said Miss Campbell.

"Isn't that Aristobulus who went before us?" said brother Sam. "It's him," said his younger brother, Sieb. It was indeed Aristobulus, climbing to the base of the cross, and beating it with his hammer. Miss Campbell, extremely indignant at this mineralogist's audacity, went up to him at once. "What are you doing there, sir?" she asked. "You see, Miss Campbell," replied Aristobulus, "I want to get another piece of granite." "But what's the use of being so fanatical? I think the era of destroying icons is over."

"I do not vandalize icons," replied Aristobulus, "I am a geologist, so I must find out what the nature of the stone is." A sharp blow from the hammer ended the sabotage, and a stone from the base had just rolled to the ground. Aristobulus picked up the stone, took out of the case the taxidermist's magnifying glass, in order to double the power of his own eyes, and held the stone up to the tip of his nose to observe. He said: "This is exactly what I thought. Look at the red granite, which is compact and strong. It should come from the island of Nones. It is very similar to the granite used by architects in the twelfth century to build the cathedral. "

Aristobulus would not miss such a good opportunity to give a discourse on archaeology, and the Melville brothers just came over and thought they should listen. Miss Campbell stopped talking about politeness and walked towards Oliver. After painting, everyone met in the church square. The structure of this complex is composed of two churches in pairs, and the walls of the church are as thick as the parapet walls between the bunkers.The pillar is as solid as a rock and has withstood the wind and rain for 1,300 years. We wandered around for a few minutes in the first church, which was a Romanesque building from the soffits of the vaults and the curves of the arcades, and then entered the second church, which belonged to the Gothic church of the twelfth century. style building, forming the nave and transept of the front church.

Thus they passed through the monuments, from one age to another, stepping on the exposed ashlar slabs at the joints, here were the coffin lids, there were a few tombstones standing in the corners, with pictures carved on them, as if Waiting for a handout from passers-by.All these are heavy, solemn and silent, showing the poetic flavor of the past. Miss Campbell, Oliver, and the Melville brothers did not realize that their learned companions were lagging behind.They went under the vault of the square tower, which used to overlook the door of the church ahead, and then stood at the intersection of the two churches.

After a while, there was the sound of neat steps on the echoing stone slab.It's like a stone statue, walking heavily under the blow of some god, like Don Kittende's knight who travels thousands of miles. This is Aristobulus measuring the size of the church with his strides of about one meter. "One hundred and sixty feet east and west," he said, and entered the second church as he entered the figures in his notebook. "Oh, it's you, Mr. Ursey Krauss!" said Miss Campbell wryly. "Are you a geometer besides a mineralogist?" "Only seventy feet at the intersection of the transepts," echoed Aristobulus.

"How many inches?" asked Oliver. Aristobulus stared at Oliver, wondering if he should be angry, but Brother Melville joined in just in time to show Miss Campbell and the two young men to the Abbey.Only illegible remnants of the building remained.Although it survived the sabotage of the Reformation. Since then, it has even been used as a convent for some nuns of St. Augustine, and enjoys the protection of the state, and now there are only the poor ruins of the convent.The convent had been battered by storms, and neither the vaults over the soffits nor the Romanesque columns were visible, without which they could not withstand the ravages of the extreme arctic climate.

After studying the remains of the once thriving monastery, visitors can also admire the chapel, which is better preserved.Aristobulus found it unnecessary to measure its interior.The chapel, built a little later than the refectory or inner courtyard of the monastery, or rather stronger, lacks only the roof, but the altar is intact, and is the most popular part of the whole building with the antique dealers. To the west is the tomb of the last abbot of the convent.A large black slate reveals an image of the Virgin, engraved between two angels, with the Child Jesus in her arms. "This is the Virgin sitting on the chair and Our Lady of St. Sixter, the only two Madonnas in Rafael. They never close their eyes, and the eyes of Our Lady of St. Sixter seem to be smiling. .”

This was Miss Campbell's note, so well put that it made Aristobulus's lips curl up in a mocking purse. "Miss Campbell, where did you know," he said, "that eyes can smile?" Perhaps Miss Campbell was tempted to say that it would not be while looking at him anyway.There was that look in her eyes, but she said nothing. "It is a very common error," continued Aristoboulos, with an air of professional authority, "that, as the ophthalmologists tell us, these organs of vision have no expression at all. For instance, Put a mask on a person's face, and look into the person's eyes through the mask, then you can see whether the face is happy, sad or angry." "Ah! Really," said Sam, as if interested in the little subject. "I really don't know," Sieb added. "And yet it is so," went on Aristobulus, "if there had been a mask..." But the extraordinary young man had no mask, so the experiment could not be done, and all the doubts about it could not be resolved, and Miss Campbell and Oliver had left the abbey and walked towards the graveyard of Jonas. This place is called "Obain's Reliquary" in honor of St. Columba's companion, who made this small teaching chapel possible.The ruins of the church are in the middle of the ancient land. This is a very strange ruins.Forty-eight Scottish kings, eight Hebridian satraps, four Irish satraps, and a French king lay dormant in this land of tombstones, whose names are no longer named, like a prehistoric chieftain.It is surrounded by a large iron fence, and is paved with stone slabs side by side, like a field in Karnak, where the stones are tombs, and not the stones of the Saroi priests, and between these graves lie on green litter. Granite tombs of Scottish kings.King Duncan became famous for the tragedy of Macbeth. Some of these tombstones are only decorated with geometric figures, others are carved with round sculptures, representing some Goerth kings, whose stiff corpses lie there, how many pairs of pasts float in this cemetery of Jonah Memories!How, in excavating the land of Saint-Denis in the Hebrides, one's mind was carried back to the past! How could one forget Ossion's stanza, which seemed to inspire him as well? "Foreigner, you live in a land full of heroes, praise the great deeds of these dead! Their light shadows were jubilant around you just now." Miss Campbell and her companions watched all this in silence, completely spared the annoyance of an annoying tour guide.They often cut up the ancient history beyond recognition.They seemed to see Angus Auger, a descendant of the nobles on the island, who was the companion and comrade-in-arms of Robert the Bruce, the hero who fought for the independence of the country. "I'd like to come back after dark," said Miss Campbell, "and I think it would be a better time to call up these memories, and perhaps I'll see the unfortunate King Duncan's body brought up, The talk of those on the land. Mr. Sinclair, is this not the time to wake up the ghosts who guard the royal tombs?" "Yes, Miss Campbell, I think they will hear you and come out." "Why, Miss Campbell, do you believe in ghosts?" cried Aristobulus. "I believe in ghosts, sir. As a true Scot I believe in ghosts," replied Miss Campbell. "But in fact, you know that this is just a fantasy, these fantasy things don't exist at all!" "If only I were happy!" said Miss Campbell, annoyed by the untimely rebuttal. "If only I would believe in the brown fairy who looks at the furniture in my house, the witch who believes in the spells of ancient Norse poetry, the Valkyries, those deadly goddesses of Scandinavian mythology who carry away the fallen warriors in battle. Believe Where are the familiar fairies celebrated in the immortal poem of the poet Burns? No true son of the Highlands will ever forget his verse: 'Tonight the ethereal fairies dance above the Davana's, In the moonlight, towards Gorshi, drifting in the bay, lost among rocks and creeks.'” "Oh, Miss Campbell," continued the obstinate fool, "do you think poets believe in the dreams they imagine?" "Of course, sir," replied Oliver, "otherwise his poems would sound as fake as works of fiction." "Do you believe it too, sir?" said Aristobulus, "I knew you were a painter, but I didn't know you were a poet." "It's the same," said Miss Campbell. "Art is a whole, but in different forms." "No... no! This is simply unacceptable!... Do you not believe in the myths written by the Celtic hero poets? Their chaotic heads remind one of imaginary gods!" "Ah, Mr. Ursey Claus," cried brother Sam, who was also annoyed, "don't slander the poets of our forefathers' days, who sang of our old Scotland!" "Listen to these poems!" said the Sib brothers, reciting their beloved poems: "I love this Celtic hymn. I love the stories of the old days. To me: it is the silence of the morning and the Fresh roses that moisten the hills..." "When the sun casts only weary light on the hillsides," Sam went on, "when the lake deep in the valley is still and blue!" If Aristobulus had not interrupted in the middle, the two uncles might have continued to indulge in Ossion's verse.Aristobulus interrupted them suddenly and said: "Gentlemen, has any of you ever seen one of these so-called gods of which you speak so feverishly? No, no! Can one see it? No, can you?" "Sir, that's where you're wrong, and I'm so sorry for you that you never saw these gods." Miss Campbell added that she would not give in to the objectors, she would never give up any of them. gods. "They may be seen manifesting over all the highlands of Scotland, gliding along barren glens, rising in the depths of ravines, flying over lakes, playing in the calm waters that surround our Hebrides, bringing Also, look at this green light, I have been insisting on chasing it, why can’t it be the shawl of the goddess Valkyrie? The tassels of the shawl are dragging in the sea in the sky.” "Oh, no!" cried Aristobulus. "This, no! Let me tell you what your green light is..." "Don't tell me, sir," cried Miss Campbell, "I don't want to know!" "No, I'm going to say," said the scholar, already agitated by the argument. "I remind you not to say..." "Still I will say, Miss Campbell, that the last ray of light from the upper half of the disc of the sun as it touches the sky is green, perhaps because it is tinged with color as it travels through the thin water. The green of the water..." "Shut up...Mr. Ursey Claus!..." "As long as this green is naturally following the red of the sun's disc, although the green suddenly disappears, our eyes still have the impression of it, because, from an optical point of view, green is the complementary color of red!" "Ah, sir, your physical reasoning..." "Miss Campbell, my reasoning agrees with the nature of things," replied Aristobulus. "I just happened to come up with a paper on that." "Uncles, let's go!" cried Miss Campbell, really pissed off. "Mr. Ursey Krauss will finally tarnish my green light with his explanation!" Oliver joined in at this time. "Sir," he said, "I think your paper on green light will be extremely rare, but allow me to give you a suggestion. Write another paper on a more interesting topic." "What, sir?" Ursey Krauss asked pompously. "Sir, you do know that some scholars have scientifically addressed such a touching question, the effect of fish tails on the heaving of the sea?" "Ah! sir..." "Okay, sir, there is another topic that I recommend for you to do profound thinking, and that is the influence of wind instruments on the formation of storms."