He was worshipped by everyone who knew him , and he was , in so far as mortal man may be , worthy of that worship . `` Old Abel is amusing himself with his violin again , '' he thought . `` What a delicious thing he is playing ! He has quite a gift for the violin . But how can he play such a thing as that , -- a battered old hulk of a man who has , at one time or another , wallowed in almost every sin to which human nature can sink ? He was on one of his sprees three days ago -- the first one for over a year -- lying dead-drunk in the market square in Charlottetown among the dogs ; and now he is playing something that only a young archangel on the hills of heaven ought to be able to play . Well , it will make my task all the easier . Abel is always repentant by the time he is able to play on his fiddle . '' Mr. Leonard was on the door-stone . The little black dog had frisked down to meet him , and the gray cat rubbed her head against his leg . Old Abel did not notice him ; he was beating time with uplifted hand and smiling face to Felix 's music , and his eyes were young again , glowing with laughter and sheer happiness . `` Felix ! what does this mean ? '' The violin bow clattered from Felix 's hand upon the floor ; he swung around and faced his grandfather . As he met the passion of grief and hurt in the old man 's eyes , his own clouded with an agony of repentance . `` Grandfather -- I 'm sorry , '' he cried brokenly . `` Now , now ! '' Old Abel had risen deprecatingly . `` It 's all my fault , Mr. Leonard . Do n't you blame the boy .
I coaxed him to play a bit XXXXX me .
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