| 1 |
She'd been staying there anyway, but she had kept her own apartment until after the wedding. She learned to cook for him, and he bought her expensive clothes, and a beautiful simple diamond necklace for her thirtieth birthday. He could have afforded to buy her a lot of things, but there was very little she wanted. |
| 2 |
It had made Alex think seriously, for the first time, about having children. But this time, Sam could no longer imagine it. Their life was too set, too well regulated, and too easy without kids. After twelve years of marriage to her, he thought it was too late, and it would no longer enhance anything. |
| 3 |
They were coming back from a trip to India, where she had never been before, and she was feeling seriously ill, and afraid she had caught some dread disease, when she went to her doctor. It was the first time she had felt really sick in years, and it scared her. But what he told her of her malady scared her even more. |
| 4 |
He asked if she was all right, and she insisted that she was, although her face was the color of paper. She got upstairs in the elevator, and let herself into the apartment, and fortunately her cleaning lady was there, because half an hour later, Alex was hemorrhaging all over their bathroom and barely conscious. |
| 5 |
It was the worst experience of her life, and taught her something about herself she had never known or suspected. Maybe it had never even been there before, but it was there now. All she wanted, to fill the aching void the miscarriage had left, was to fill the void with another baby. And Sam felt it too. |
| 6 |
They both cried for their unborn child, and when Alex went back to work the following week, she was still feeling shaken. They had gone away for a few days over a long weekend, and talked about it, and they both agreed. They weren't sure if it was a reaction, or real, but they knew that something major had changed. |
| 7 |
But her health was excellent, and her doctor assured them that there was no reason whatsoever to anticipate another problem. "You know what? We're nuts," she said, lying in bed one night, eating Oreo cookies, and getting crumbs all over their bed, but she claimed they were the only things that settled her stomach. |
| 8 |
Despite Sam's aversion to hospitals, he went to Lamaze classes with her, and was going to be at the delivery with her. And she and Sam were having dinner at Elaine's three days after her due date, when her water broke, and they left quickly for the hospital, and were then sent home, until labor had started in earnest. |
| 9 |
He awoke finally, and gave a start when he saw the look on her face. "Now?" he said, leaping out of bed, with his heart pounding, looking frantically for his trousers. He had left them on a chair, but suddenly in the dark, he couldn't find them, and Alex was doubled over in pain, gripping his arm, and crying. |
| 10 |
Sam took a thousand photographs of them, as he and Alex cried, unable to believe the blessing that had been bestowed on them, the miracle they had almost missed, and fortunately hadn't. They had been spared from their own stupidity, they felt, by a wiser Power who had showered them with good fortune. |
| 11 |
It was a system that worked for them, and she was religious about coming home promptly whenever possible. And in exchange for their love and efforts, and their incessant appreciation of her, Annabelle adored her Mommy and Daddy. She was the light of their lives, and they were all that mattered to her. |
| 12 |
She looked just like Alex, and even her mannerisms looked like a miniature version of her mother's. In fact, the only disappointment to them was that their efforts to get pregnant again had been surprisingly unfruitful. They started when Annabelle was six months old, and had tried for a year after that. |
| 13 |
And it seemed funny to both of them that after so many years of emphatically not wanting children, they were now willing to go to any lengths to pursue having them. They had even talked about her taking Pergonal shots, which was a more extreme solution than the Serophene pills, with other side effects. |
| 14 |
They hadn't ruled out either of the more elaborate treatments. But at forty two, she still felt she had a chance for conception without such heroic measures, particularly with the hormones she was currently taking. That in itself was already a big commitment, because taking them was anything but easy for her. |
| 15 |
She was one of those people who reacted severely to medication. But she felt it was worth it, because she and Sam both wanted another baby so badly. Annabelle had taught them many things, mainly how sweet life could be with the bond of a child between them, and how much they had missed in their years of childlessness. |
| 16 |
Annabelle was three and a half years old by then, and Alex's and Sam's hearts melted every time they saw her. Her hair was a halo of coppery curls, her eyes were huge and green, just like her mother's, and her face was dusted with a thin veil of what Alex called "fairy dust," which were her freckles. |
| 17 |
At thirty two, he still looked like a boy to her, he had sandy blond good looks, and looked like everyone's kid brother. He had gone to a state law school in Illinois, and she knew he came from a simple family with very little money. But he had worked his way through school, and he burned with a real fire for the law. |
| 18 |
He didn't mind the hundreds of hours he spent working, preparing cases for her, he always learned a great deal from her strategy. She never put herself out on a limb unless she was absolutely sure she wouldn't hurt her client by taking risks, and she always warned them fully of the risks she was taking. |
| 19 |
Although she complained occasionally that once he made partner, which she hoped wouldn't be soon, she would have no one decent to do her grunt work. He also knew from the other partner he worked for in the firm, that Alex had already put a good word in for him to Matthew Billings, though Alex would never admit it. |
| 20 |
He was thorough and smart, and a nice guy. And it also helped that he wasn't married. He had lots of spare time to spend on work, late at night, over holidays, on weekends. He was willing to do what he had to to build an important career. At times, he reminded her of her and Sam in their early days. |
| 21 |
They worked just as hard now, but differently, there wasn't that blind hard push that kept you in the office till midnight, as it had for them years before. Now they had Annabelle and each other, and they wanted more out of life than just careers. But fortunately for her, Brock Stevens wasn't there yet. |
| 22 |
And Alex knew that both he and the other associate were too ambitious, and too sensible, to let that happen. She met with the new client shortly after that, and she was very llikewarm about what she heard from him. It was an ugly case, and she was not at all convinced that the plaintiff in this case wasn't lying. |
| 23 |
Generally, she preferred defense work. She told him that she'd think about it and discuss it with her partners, but that she felt that her own schedule at the moment, and the number of cases she had pending trial, could well keep her from giving him the kind of attention she felt he deserved, and was certain he wanted. |
| 24 |
She just needed some time to think it over, but she doubted very seriously that she'd take it. And at five o'clock sharp, she looked at her watch, buzzed her secretary, Liz Hascomb, at the desk outside, and told her she was leaving. She left at five o'clock every day, whenever she could, and her schedule allowed it. |
| 25 |
It was the kind of weather that made her want to walk uptown, except that she didn't want to waste a minute getting home to her daughter. Instead, she settled back in the cab, thinking about Annabelle and her mischievous little face with the freckles. It was hard not to think about getting pregnant again too. |
| 26 |
They wound up in a traffic jam on Madison and Seventy fourth, and she decided to get out and walk the last three blocks. The air felt good on her face after being cooped up all day. And there was a real spring in her step, as she swung her briefcase beside her, and thought about getting home to Annabelle. |
| 27 |
A fabulous career, an adorable little girl, a husband she loved deeply. She was the luckiest woman alive, and she knew it. That was the best part. She never took any of it for granted. She was grateful for every blessing in her life, every day. And if she didn't get pregnant again, it wouldn't be the end of the world. |
| 28 |
She and Sam were only children, it hadn't done them any harm. On the contrary, people said only children were smarter. Whatever happened, she knew they had it made. Just thinking about it made her smile broadly as she reached their building, and smiled at the doorman as she strode confidently into the lobby. |
| 29 |
They relied on her completely. Alex told Sam about her trial the following week, and the deposition she'd sat in on that day, without telling him anything confidential. And he told her about an extraordinary new client in Bahrain, and a prospective new partner his two other partners had introduced him to. |
| 30 |
All she could think of was him, as he held her in his arms and plunged slowly into her. They hung lost in space for an indeterminable time, aching with pleasure, and then returned slowly to earth, drifting back to reality again, as he purred softly in her arms, and drifted off to sleep contentedly as she held him. |
| 31 |
He had never known she was gone, and when she turned off the light, she lay next to him, thinking about him, and about Annabelle, and about her trial the following week, and the new client she'd seen that day, whom she'd decided to decline, and the English prospective partner Sam had talked to her about. |
| 32 |
Her day began, as it always did, with Sam waking her up, usually with a pat and a kiss, the radio was always on, and like most mornings, she was exhausted. Each day seemed to spill over into the following one, and she was usually tired from the endless demands on her, and the relentless stresses at the office. |
| 33 |
Brock was already waiting in her office for her, with all the pertinent files spread out, and there were five messages waiting on her desk, all unrelated to the Schultz case. Two of them were from the previous day's prospective client, and she jotted a note to herself to call him before she left the office. |
| 34 |
But she always seemed to be late or rushed, or trying to do too many things. Her life always felt like a relay race, with no one to pass the baton to. She certainly couldn't pass it to Sam, he had his own life to lead, and his own business headaches to attend to. At least she had Brock to help at the office. |
| 35 |
She had never felt better. And she could talk to him on the phone about the Serophene. And as she thought of that, she glanced at her watch and made a quick decision. She dialed his number from memory, and was going to postpone the appointment, but the line was busy, and she didn't want to be rude and just not show up. |
| 36 |
He was good at what he did, and he had been very attentive to her. He had delivered Annabelle, and had been part of the three year pursuit of pregnancy since then. It didn't seem right to just stand him up. She tried again, found the line still busy, and stood up and grabbed her coat, in spite of her irritation. |
| 37 |
There was no specific medical reason for it, but her job was stressful certainly, and she was just that much older. They discussed the Pergonal shots again, their advantages and risks, and the possibility of in vitro fertilization, though at forty two she was not thought to be an excellent candidate for it. |
| 38 |
And in the end, they decided to stay with the Serophene, and he talked to her about trying artificial insemination with Sam's sperm the following month, if he'd agree, to give the egg and the sperm a better chance to "meet up," as he put it. He made it all seem very simple, and a lot less upsetting than it could be. |
| 39 |
She was small busted, and had nursed Annabelle, all of which were supposedly good news against breast cancer, and she'd already been told that the hormones she was taking did not increase the risk of cancer, which she had found reassuring. "When are you ovulating again?" he asked offhandedly, glancing at her chart. |
| 40 |
She glanced absently at a magazine, looked at her watch several times, and ten minutes after she'd arrived, a woman in a white coat came to the doorway of the waiting room and called her name. There was something very loud and impersonal about the way she said it, but Alex followed her without a word. |
| 41 |
She left the office as quickly as she had come, grabbed a cab home, and was there in time to watch Annabelle finish her lunch and dress her for ballet. And for some odd reason, it felt better than ever to be there. One couldn't totally ignore the statistics that forced women to have mammograms each year. |
| 42 |
One in eight or one in nine women would be struck with breast cancer in their lifetime, depending on the source of the statistics. Even having been near them, having been tested for it, made one shudder a little, and be grateful for the simple blessings in one's life, like taking a child to a ballet class. |
| 43 |
It seemed as though it had been a long day, preparing for the trial, and having the mammogram had left her feeling drained, and she was happy to stay home and relax with her daughter. Carmen went home early on Friday afternoons, and Alex had dinner ready when Sam got home, later than usual, at seven. |
| 44 |
There's something vaguely degrading about it, but I'm not sure why. You feel kind of vulnerable and stupid. I couldn't wait to leave. I'd never been so happy to see Annabelle in my life. I guess it's a reminder that things do go wrong, those things do happen to someone, and you're damn lucky when it's not you. |
| 45 |
She had read somewhere that that might help, and was willing to try almost anything. But she was still looking sleepy and satisfied, when Sam came back for a cuddle with her just before lunchtime. "You going to stay in bed all day?" he teased her, nuzzling her neck with his lips, and sending another thrill through her. |
| 46 |
It was fun doing that sometimes on the weekends. And on Sunday, they rode their bicycles in the park, and Sam put Annabelle in the little seat on the back of his, as they rode around the reservoir. It was a beautiful warm day, and on Sunday night they all agreed that it had been the perfect weekend. |
| 47 |
She put on her coat and slipped out of the apartment quietly, it was only seven thirty in the morning. And the cab ride down Park was speedy at that hour. She was in her office by a quarter to eight, and she felt a little tug at her heart as she thought of Annabelle and Sam having breakfast without her. |
| 48 |
He had already taken care of most of them, but she had had a number of new ideas over the weekend. And she was just outlining them to him when Elizabeth Hascomb hesitantly opened the door to her office, and peeked in at them. But the moment Alex saw her, she shook her head and put up a hand to stop her. |
| 49 |
But Alex looked anything but pleased. She felt sure that the call was just routine, and it wasn't worth throwing everyone into a tizzy for. For an instant, as she looked at Liz, she wondered if it could be bad news, but the idea of that was so inconceivable that she went back to being irritated instead of worried. |
| 50 |
Although she had a number of friends who had had treatments using freezing techniques or laser beams applied to precancerous conditions, and had still managed to get pregnant. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she feared, all she wanted to know was that her life wasn't in danger and she could still get pregnant. |
| 51 |
He pointed to a frontal view, and then put another film up with a side view. It all looked very mysterious to her, like a weather map of Atlanta. He turned then to look at her, with a look of painful importance. "There's a mass there," he pointed to it, and only because he showed her where it was could she see it. |
| 52 |
It was happening. It was rolling out in front of her like a terrifying movie. "I don't do biopsies. You need a surgeon." He picked up a piece of paper from his desk then, and she noticed that she had already been there for half an hour, but suddenly her whole life had changed, and she wasn't ready to leave yet. |
| 53 |
It will depend on whether or not your lymph nodes are involved, how many, and whether or not it has spread to other parts of your body. Alex, there are no simple answers. You may need extensive surgery, you may need a lumpectomy, you could need a course of chemotherapy, or radiation. I just don't know. |
| 54 |
He didn't dare ask her if she was up to doing the case, he knew that she would have taken the question as an insult. "Are you going home?" He hoped for her sake that she was. He still had work to do for her, for the trial, but he could see a pile of files on her desk too and that didn't bode well for an early evening. |
| 55 |
But a gray shadow that John Anderson had admitted could kill her, if it was malignant. It was unbelievable. Yesterday she had been trying to get pregnant, and today her own life was in danger. And the hormones she had taken the week before made it all the more difficult now to maintain her composure. |
| 56 |
They made everything seem more upsetting, and more alarming, and she tried to tell herself that the terror she was feeling wasn't real, it was just the hormones. Brock checked back with her at nine o'clock, and he noticed that she still hadn't eaten the sandwich that had been on her desk since lunchtime. |
| 57 |
People were depending on her... and then she thought of Annabelle and Sam and had to fight back tears again. Her engine was running low, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by everything that had happened. The mammogram films were in an envelope on her desk, but what she had seen there was emblazoned in her mind forever. |
| 58 |
It was obvious that something was wrong. She had never looked worse, but he didn't know her well enough to ask her, or offer to help her. She laid her head back against the seat of the cab, and she felt as though it were a bowling ball, and it was just too heavy to hold up anymore. She just couldn't do it. |
| 59 |
A bad mammogram was nothing to take lightly, and statistics about breast cancer kept leaping into her head, and none of them were good news. She couldn't even begin to imagine how she would tell him. He was watching TV in the living room when she walked in, and he looked up at her with a smile when he saw her. |
| 60 |
He was wearing jeans and his white shirt from work. His tie was still lying on the table. "Hi, how was your day?" he asked cheerfully, reaching out to her, and she sat down heavily on the couch beside him. She suddenly had to fight back tears again, just seeing him had brought all the terror back to her. |
| 61 |
She felt immeasurably better when they turned off the lights that night, and only slightly worried again when she woke up the next morning. For an instant, she remembered that something terrible had happened the day before and she had that feeling of foreboding you get when you're in the midst of disaster. |
| 62 |
But as soon as she woke up, she reminded herself of everything Sam had said and she felt better again. And she made a point of waking Annabelle up and having her sit in the kitchen with her while she made breakfast. She even had a list of possible costumes for her. Liz had researched it the day before. |
| 63 |
A nurse asked why she was calling him, and Alex explained that it was about a biopsy, as Brock came back into her office for a file, and she prayed that he would take it quickly. He did and then disappeared again, as she wished she had locked the door. But maybe, if Sam was right, it really wouldn't matter. |
| 64 |
He told her that the shadowy area they saw was clearly a tumor deep in her breast in an area, and of a shape that almost always indicated a malignancy. Naturally, they couldn't be sure until they did the biopsy, but in his experience what they were going to find would be a tumor, and not a good one. |
| 65 |
It wasn't that she was so enamored with her breasts, but the idea of being completely disfigured and desperately ill from chemo or radiation made her want to vomit just thinking about it. Where was Sam now with his cheerful prognosis, and warnings about surgeons fearing malpractice? She couldn't even remember it now. |
| 66 |
But you should know that my preference is almost always mastectomy in the case of early cancers. I want to save your life, Mrs. Parker, more than your breast. It's a question of priorities. And if you have a malignancy that deep in your breast, you may be a lot safer, and better off, without the breast now. |
| 67 |
Doing a mastectomy early on could well be a great deal safer. And if indicated after the surgery, I'd want to start an aggressive course of chemotherapy four weeks after the surgery. This may sound frightening to you now, but six or seven months from now, you'll be free of the disease, hopefully forever. |
| 68 |
But all she could do was shake her head. It was worse than what she'd heard the day before, and he had completely overwhelmed her. She could already imagine herself without her left breast, and undergoing chemotherapy. Did that mean she would also lose her hair? She couldn't bring herself to ask him. |
| 69 |
She left his office in a daze, and when she got back to her own office, she wasn't even sure what the doctor looked like. She knew she had spent an hour with him, but suddenly his face was blank, along with almost everything he had said except the words tumor and malignancy, mastectomy and chemotherapy. |
| 70 |
You've gone to a surgeon, he's not going to tell you to go home and take an aspirin. Hell, no, he's going to tell you that you need to take your boob off. And if nothing else, he's going to scare the hell out of you, to cover himself, just in case you do have something there, which I don't believe for a minute. |
| 71 |
He seemed to be shielding himself from the realities with optimism and good humor. His insistence that nothing would happen to her made her feel suddenly lonely, and although she desperately wanted to, she didn't entirely believe him. All he had done was shake her faith in both Dr. Anderson and Dr. Herman. |
| 72 |
To everyone else, it seemed like a very ordinary occurrence. An easy choice. Get rid of the breast, and the problem. It was all so simple, as long as they were the doctors, and not the patient. To them, it was a matter of theories and statistics. To Alex, it was her life, her breast, and her future. |
| 73 |
She was disappointed to realize that having gotten a second opinion, she was no more certain of what would happen to her, no more reassured about the outcome or the options. She had somehow hoped that Dr. Wallerstrom would allay all her fears, and tell her that everyone else was overreacting and being foolish. |
| 74 |
The biopsy would still have to be done, the situation and the tumor analyzed, and the ultimate decision would have to be hers, and her surgeon's. There was still the chance, of course, that the tumor would be benign, but after everything they had said to her in the past few days, it seemed less and less likely. |
| 75 |
Even Sam's cheerful refusal to believe the worst seemed patently absurd now. And with his adamant refusal to discuss the possibilities with her, the pressures of the trial, and the fertility medication she knew she was still reacting to, she felt as though she was barely clinging to sanity during the entire week. |
| 76 |
She felt as though she were walking underwater. The only thing that kept her from losing her mind completely was incredibly solid support from Brock as they worked their way through the trial, and it seemed like a miracle when the jury absolved Jack Schultz of absolutely everything the plaintiff wanted. |
| 77 |
She sat in the courtroom, feeling drained, but looking pleased, and she thanked Brock for all his help. It had been the hardest ten days of her life, harder than anyone knew, and they had done some extraordinary teamwork. "I couldn't have done it without you," she said graciously, and really meant it. |
| 78 |
She hoped he was right, but for the moment, he seemed to be the only one who thought so. She tried to feel victorious about the trial, and Jack Schultz sent her a magnum of champagne, which she took home with her, but she wasn't in the mood to celebrate. She was nervous and depressed, and very frightened about Monday. |
| 79 |
The day after the trial ended, she went back to see Peter Herman, and this time he didn't pull any punches. He told her in no uncertain terms that if a tumor that big and that deep turned out to be malignant, she would have to have a modified radical mastectomy, and extensive chemotherapy, and it was best to face it. |
| 80 |
And he said that, whether she was or not, he'd understand perfectly if she preferred doing the procedures in two stages. But, as with the lumpectomy versus the mastec tomyi; she had to be the one to make the decision. She had to choose if she wanted to do the biopsy by itself, or in tandem with the actual operation. |
| 81 |
Both views were heatedly debated by equally respected surgeons, and yet it was clear to her which Peter Herman preferred, and much as she ached at the prospect, she decided to follow his thinking. She had already agreed to the modified radical mastectomy he had described to her, if the tumor proved to be malignant. |
| 82 |
Having a lumpectomy automatically meant the necessity for radiation. But in the case of a mastectomy, if chemotherapy was advised, it would almost certainly cause a spontaneous abortion. It would do the same in the second trimester as well, so if chemotherapy was necessary, it would more than likely kill her baby. |
| 83 |
She knew he would take good care of it. But she hadn't told either of them where she was going. She had intimated only that she had a medical problem that needed to be worked out, and it could take anywhere from two days to two weeks, but they were prepared to accept that and help her out as much as possible. |
| 84 |
It scared him too much, it was all too reminiscent of his own mother. But whatever the reason, it left Alex with no support at all. She had plenty of acquaintances, and some friends she knew well, but she seldom saw them, except the ones she worked with. She never had time to see friends, she was always working. |
| 85 |
Terribly. And that night she explained to Annabelle that in the morning she had to go away for a few days on business. Annabelle looked disappointed but she said she understood, and Alex promised to call her, and told her that Daddy would take good care of her, and she had to fight back tears as she said it. |
| 86 |
And Sam stayed well away from the subject all through dinner. He went to read some reports afterwards and Alex went back to check on Annabelle. She lay next to the sleeping child for a little while, she just wanted to feel her curls against her cheek, and feel her breathing softly before she left her. |
| 87 |
But he didn't hear her. He didn't hear anything. He was far away, in his own world. Too much so to help his wife, or to accept what was happening to her. He was just too afraid to deal with it, and she knew that. But she had never felt as lonely in her life. In his own way, he had deserted her completely. |
| 88 |
She started a pot of coffee for Sam, set out the breakfast things, and looked at Annabelle, sleeping soundly. Sam was still asleep too, and it was so odd looking at both of them, knowing she'd be gone soon, for a few hours, or a few days, to win or lose a battle that could take her away from them forever. |
| 89 |
How could she ever leave her little girl? What would happen to them? She couldn't begin to fathom what was about to happen to her that morning. She was careful not to eat or drink anything, although she longed for a cup of coffee, and as she brushed her teeth, she suddenly found she had to fight back tears. |
| 90 |
The silky gown fell easily to the floor without a sound, and she stood looking at herself, the small firm breasts that she had always taken for granted. The left was a fraction larger than the right, and she remembered suddenly with a smile that Annabelle had always preferred it to the other when she nursed her. |
| 91 |
And now, she stood looking at herself, and she cried as she realized what might happen to her. She couldn't even imagine it. A breast was a small price to pay for a life, if it came to that, but she didn't want to lose it either. She didn't want to be deformed, or look like a man, or have reconstructive surgery. |
| 92 |
He was dressed normally, in a business suit, and when he put the paper down to talk to them, he seemed unusually cheerful. He didn't say anything to his wife, but he was particularly funny with Annabelle and Carmen. And she didn't know what was happening, but something in her gut told her she didn't like it. |
| 93 |
He kissed her, rumpled her curls, and then he went to ring for the elevator, while Alex stood there and held her baby. "I'm going to miss you a lot," Alex said huskily, feeling herself shake as she held her. She didn't want to give away too much, but she wanted more than anything to hold her for as long as she could. |
| 94 |
She was going to sign a permission form that would allow the doctor to do whatever he had to once he got there. So that if the biopsy brought bad news, he would perform all the needed surgery that day. She didn't want to come back again after an agonizing wait, knowing that she had to lose the breast anyway. |
| 95 |
We're strong people, with good jobs, we move a lot of people around, make a lot of decisions that affect money and people and corporations... and then you get hit with something like this, and you're powerless. You're suddenly at the mercy of everyone, people you don't even know, and fate, and your own body. |
| 96 |
That wasn't the issue for her, who had decided what or why. This was a body factory, a warehouse for bodies in disrepair, and she had to get them moving as fast as they could, to make room for the next ones. The IV burned as it went into Alex's arm, but the nurse said that it would stop in a few minutes. |
| 97 |
And she tried not to remember that he had never told her he would love her, even with her breast off. They rolled her inexorably down the hall, and into a large elevator where people stepped aside and stared at her, wondering what was wrong with her, and why she was there, and pretended not to look at her. |
| 98 |
This time he felt both useless and helpless. She was somewhere else, asleep, unaware of who was there with her, and who wasn't. He could have been anywhere. And by ten thirty, he wished he had been. She should have been back to the room by then, or someone should have called to say when she'd come down. |
| 99 |
But she called upstairs anyway, and they told her that everything was running late. After all, this was Monday. They had all the leftover surgeries from the weekend, arms and legs and hips that had waited to be set since the night before, and appendectomies that hadn't been too hot to wait through the weekend. |
| 100 |
He just didn't feel right leaving without knowing what had happened. It was finally twelve thirty when they told him Alex was in the recovery room, four hours after she'd gone upstairs. The delays were ridiculous, he complained. And the nurse told him that Dr. Herman would be down to speak to him in a few minutes. |
| 101 |
Recurrences of breast cancer are more often than not fatal. And the important thing in successful treatment of cancers such as these is removing all of it, while it is still encapsulated, before it has spread to any other part of the system. To that end, we try to espouse extremely aggressive measures. |
| 102 |
It's the only way you can be absolutely sure there won't be a local recurrence. You can't have a recurrence in a breast that isn't there. It could recur in the chest wall, or travel elsewhere, of course, or metastasize, but that will depend on how advanced the tumor is, and how many lymph nodes are involved. |
| 103 |
And at her age, it's doubtful. Since we took the breast, there's no need for radiation. We won't be starting chemo for a few weeks. She'll need time to get on her feet, and we need time to assess her situation. Our tumor board will be meeting to discuss her case, of course, once we have all the pathology reports. |
| 104 |
The tumor was deep and large, but the whole purpose of radical surgeries, and aggressive treatment afterwards, is to wipe out the entire cancer. If we even leave point zero one percent, it could eventually do her grave harm. That's why we can't afford to leave the breast once it's diseased to the extent that hers was. |
| 105 |
We hope that we got all of hers, that it was contained, that it has not infiltrated, and that her nodes are not too excessively involved. We hope that, for her, radical surgery was the answer, and chemotherapy will be the additional guarantee she needs. But only time will tell us if we've been truly successful. |
| 106 |
They were going to butcher her piece by piece, cut off one breast, then the other, scoop her insides out, and boil her guts with the poisons in the chemo, and then she'd die anyway. He was going to lose her. He couldn't stand it. And he was not going to hang around and watch her die, just as he had his mother. |
| 107 |
Just like his father, and it had killed him. But Sam already knew he wasn't going to let this kill him. He couldn't let her do that to him. His eyes filled with tears as he forced himself not to think of her body the way it had been, and the way it would look now. The words were all so ugly... reconstructive surgery. |
| 108 |
Simon himself was roughly Sam's age, though heavier built, with wavy blond hair, blue eyes, and if you were tall enough you could see that he was slightly balding. But he had a very aristocratic British air, he was given to tweeds, handmade shoes, and impeccably starched shirts, and remarkably important clients. |
| 109 |
Sam had finally even decided that he liked him. He had a great sense of humor, and he was anxious to become friends. He had a wife he'd left "at home," they were separated, though they vacationed together frequently and seemed to have an interestingly open arrangement. And he had three kids, all boys, at Eton. |
| 110 |
And he saw when she went to the ladies' room after a little while that she was not only very tall, but she had an incredibly good figure, and her skirt barely covered her bottom. She had an Hermes Kelly bag slung over one arm, and she was wearing a short black wool dress, silky black stockings, and a string of pearls. |
| 111 |
Daphne seemed very cool in the company of half a dozen men, and he overheard her having a very intelligent conversation about oil prices with one of the Arabs. For Sam, it was a blessed afternoon, a huge relief to be in the midst of busy, healthy, living people, after his hellish morning at New York Hospital. |
| 112 |
He wasn't sure why, but there seemed something wrong about it, as though they had done something terrible, as though she had something to hide now. An ugly secret called cancer. "Some deals are like that," she said coolly, appraising him. She crossed, and then uncrossed her legs, and he tried not to watch her. |
| 113 |
There was something very unsettling about her, and he was wondering if it was going to be a good idea to have her around the office. Simon was hoping to have her work with him for a year, and then she wanted to go back to England, and go to law school. And in some odd ways, she reminded Sam a little bit of Alex. |
| 114 |
At eight o'clock he changed into jeans, and seemed to hesitate before going back to the hospital. He knew he had to go, but suddenly he didn't want to see Alex. She would be woozy and sick, and probably in a lot of pain, in spite of what the surgeon had said about "ductal" tumors being less painful. |
| 115 |
Could she feel it? He looked grim when he got to the hospital, and went up to the small, ugly blue room, and much to his chagrin, she was wide awake when he saw her. She was lying in bed, with an IV pole next to her, and an elderly nurse reading a magazine in the light of the single lamp that was lit in the room. |
| 116 |
She would very probably lose her hair, and just as possibly be permanently sterile after the treatment. Right now, it seemed like there was nothing left, not even her marriage. Sam hadn't even been there for her when she woke up. He hadn't been there when the doctor had told her the devastating news. |
| 117 |
You just want to mouth a lot of platitudes and feed me a lot of bullshit. You weren't even here for chrissake when they told me what had happened to me. You were at your office, making deals, and at home, watching fucking TV with our daughter, so don't tell me how to feel. You don't know shit about what I'm feeling. |
| 118 |
And then, a few minutes later, she started to doze off. She didn't speak to him again, she just fell asleep, holding his hand, and he stood there and cried as he watched her. She looked so tired and so sad, and so broken, all covered in bandages, her beautiful hair like flame, and her body so badly injured. |
| 119 |
He tiptoed quietly from the room once she was asleep, and signaled to the nurse that he was leaving. And as he rode down the elevator, he thought of what Alex had said to him. That he could walk away from this, and go home. It wasn't happening to him, just to her. And as he walked slowly home, he couldn't deny it. |
| 120 |
Nothing had changed, except that he knew he had lost part of himself that afternoon, the part that was irretrievably bound to Alex. She was leaving him, bit by bit, just as his parents had left him, and he wasn't going to let her take him down with her. She had no right to do that to him, to expect him to die with her. |
| 121 |
She stared out the window from her bed, and then lunch came. More soft, bland food. She didn't touch any of it, and just after that, her surgeon came, and looked at the dressing and the drain. Alex was afraid to look at herself yet, and she looked up at the ceiling, wanting to scream while he changed it. |
| 122 |
What would it look like? Dr. Herman had showed her photographs so she would be prepared, and they had terrified her. It was just a clean flat slab of flesh, with no nipple, and a diagonal scar where the breast had been. She couldn't even imagine how Sam would react to that when they finally took off her dressing. |
| 123 |
She had lost a part of her self image and her self confidence, and her life was at stake now. That was about as big a deal as you get, no matter how small your breasts were. She hadn't wanted to lose one. "How are you going to feel about me now?" she asked him honestly, facing him from across the small room. |
| 124 |
She wanted to hear it, since he had never reassured her about it before the operation. But he felt that the fact that he was there told her everything. To Alex, it didn't. He was passing through once a day for an hour, between office and home, and the rest of his busy life. That was a little too easy. |
| 125 |
She had said none of the right things to him to elicit his sympathy, and he hadn't said anything right either. She was angry at him for not being there for her. He hadn't been there when she woke up from the surgery, or when they'd told her she'd lost her breast and had cancer, and he hadn't been there all day today. |
| 126 |
It was important to her. She cared about how she looked to him, and she cared desperately about whether or not he loved her, and he wasn't saying anything to convince her that he would love her no matter what. In fact, he was reserving judgment to see how it affected him when he saw what it looked like. |
| 127 |
She was still furious when he left, and she noticed that he kissed her on the forehead again, instead of the lips, as though he was suddenly afraid to touch her. She sat in her room and cried again that night. She didn't even bother walking down the hall, or calling Annabelle, and she didn't call Sam either. |
| 128 |
She gave Alex a few exercises to do, and told her some things to think about, and she didn't leave her any booklets. She knew Alex too well to do that. Alex had no patience with brochures or superficial information. She got right to the heart of things. And for her, the heart of things right now was survival. |
| 129 |
And after he'd read Goodnight Moon to her again, and turned off all but the night light, he went to his bedroom and changed his shirt and shaved, and thought about Alex. It had been a rough couple of days for both of them, and he was beginning to wonder just how rough it would be when she got home on Friday. |
| 130 |
She was making a real issue of the surgery and the missing breast. And the truth was that it frightened him more than a little. Who wouldn't be worried about seeing that? There was no way it could be anything but very ugly. But lie didn't want to tell her that. He wished she wouldn't push him about it. |
| 131 |
She accused him of leaving his fly open in the hope that women would watch him. And he thought of that now as he made his way across the restaurant and smiled, thinking of his wife. But when he thought of her, it was as she had been before, not as she was now, deformed and angry, at New York Hospital. |
| 132 |
He was lost in thought all the way home in the cab, remembering what it had been like dancing with her. It was a memory he wouldn't soon forget, and as he walked into the apartment, he felt guilty toward Alex. And even more so, when he walked into his bedroom and saw Carmen's message from her on his pillow. |
| 133 |
And this was not how he wanted to spend the rest of his days, listening to her daily reports about her cancer. Suddenly he saw her as a tragic figure trying to swallow him alive and ruin his life. The Alex he had known and loved had disappeared, and in her place was this angry, frightened, depressing woman. |
| 134 |
She had come every day since discovering that Alex was there, and what had happened. And on Friday, Sam came at noon to take her home from the hospital. It was the first time he had seen her in two days, and she looked suddenly very fragile when he saw her. She was wearing a dress she had asked him to bring her. |
| 135 |
He thought she was playing invalid again, and she knew it. But he didn't know how tired she was, or how worn out, or how afraid of seeing their little girl and what she would say. It was all very upsetting and desperately scary. And as she lay on their bed and turned on the TV, she saw Sam put his coat on. |
| 136 |
Liz called that afternoon, to see how she was doing at home, and she was happy to hear Alex sounding so much better. Annabelle had improved her spirits immeasurably, but later, when she took off her dressing gown because she was warm, she noticed that Annabelle shied away from her a little bit. The dressing scared her. |
| 137 |
Instead, she just watched him for a moment, and then blew him a kiss and left the room, wishing she could spend the weekend with him and not Simon and their friends from England. And at five thirty, he ran out of excuses. He put on his coat, and went downstairs, and walked a few blocks before taking a cab home. |
| 138 |
She just didn't know what to do with Sam. But Liz had reassured her again, when she called her that afternoon, and told her to be patient. She said she'd had the same problems with her husband at first too, the awkwardness, the fears about her illness, the resentment too, but eventually he had adjusted. |
| 139 |
It was more than a little distressing. "You won't hurt me, Sam," she said quietly, trying to reassure him. But he slipped into bed as though there were a land mine on her side of it and he was afraid to set it off. He lay there stiffly on the edge of the bed, keeping as far away from her as he could. |
| 140 |
And once he was asleep, she lay in bed and cried, pining for her husband. He woke up on Saturday long before she stirred, and by the time she got up, and changed her bed jacket for the dressing gown again, he and Annabelle were dressed and tailing about going to Central Park to fly a new kite he had bought her. |
| 141 |
The cookies and the kite. And she and Sam went out half an hour later, with their kite, in high spirits. He had hardly spoken to Alex since she got up, it was as though now that she was back in the apartment, she was a real threat to him. He was even less communicative than he had been when she was in the hospital. |
| 142 |
They'd had a good time. And they'd bought chestnuts and pretzels. Alex had done her hair while they were gone, and she had dressed. She was wearing a full sweater and jeans, and you almost couldn't see anything of what had happened to her. You barely saw the swell of either breast in the oversized sweater. |
| 143 |
But sitting in his office downtown, Sam was looking glum. He had very little work to do. His work required people and clients, and deals to make. He didn't have the kind of avalanche of paperwork that Alex constantly lived with. And he had come to the office merely to escape, and now that he was here he felt stupid. |
| 144 |
He had been absolutely certain there was no one else in the office. The alarm had been on, and the watchman downstairs didn't tell him anyone was there. She must have just come in. It was Daphne. She was wearing a tight black jersey shirt and a pair of black leggings that made her legs seem endless. |
| 145 |
He wanted to tear her leggings off and lay her on the floor next to him, but he didn't dare do more than kiss her, and allow his hands to drift hungrily down her body. She was all muscles, and tight stomach, and splendid little behind. She was built like a ballerina, and her breasts filled both his hands. |
| 146 |
It's all I remember about her, how sick she was, how she talked about it all the time, and had endless operations. They chopped her up in little bits, until they finally killed her. And her dying killed my father. I felt like she tried to kill all of us. She would have killed me too, except I wouldn't let her. |
| 147 |
But at least he owed it to her to be faithful. It was just bad luck that Daphne had crossed his path at that particular moment. Or maybe it was meant to be that way. Maybe this was his reward for what he was losing. They stood there together in the pantry for a long time, and it was dark when they looked outside. |
| 148 |
He went to her office with her while she got it, and then he kissed her there too. She fell backwards against the desk in his arms, and the temptation to take her right there was almost irresistible, but again he forced himself to remember that he was married. The leggings she wore didn't make it any easier for him. |
| 149 |
Their dinner together was anything but warm, or even interesting. They seemed to be groping for subjects of mutual interest, which was unusual for them, but at least they were together and she was home. The worst had already happened, or almost, and now all she had to do was hang in and survive the treatment. |
| 150 |
Their marriage would fall into place again after that. She was sure of it. It was just rough now, as they both adjusted to a new situation. But he was just as cautious about lying next to her that night as he had been the night before. He was solicitous and polite, but he made no attempt at all to come near her. |
| 151 |
She told him she was still tired after the surgery, but had very little pain, and he was very pleased at what he saw when he took off her dressing. He said it was very clean, and the sutures were healing nicely. In fact, she was doing even better than he'd hoped. And he'd had the final results of her tests. |
| 152 |
She had taken off her dress, and the bra she'd worn, and then slowly pulled off her dressing, and with a determined look, she walked over to the mirror. She tried to keep her eyes on her face, but slowly, she let them drift down, until she screamed, and took a step backwards from the mirror. It wasn't possible. |
| 153 |
She thought it was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen, and even knowing that it might have saved her life did nothing to console her. She felt sick after looking at it, and she sat down on the carpet on the bathroom floor and hugged her knees as she sobbed. It was almost an hour later when Carmen heard her. |
| 154 |
It made the agony of wanting Daphne even more painful. And he felt guiltier than ever remembering how exquisite her breasts had been when he'd touched them, and he remembered exactly how they'd looked when he took off her shirt and freed them. She was so young and inviting and alive, and her body was so perfect. |
| 155 |
She wore a little silver crown, and carried a wand, and she had a great time trick or treating in their building. Alex usually dressed up too, but she hadn't put together a costume this year, and at the last minute she dressed as Cruella De Vil in a black and white wig and an old fur coat, and Annabelle loved it. |
| 156 |
She was wearing a prosthesis now in her bra, which was heavy but looked surprisingly realistic. And Sam couldn't help but admire her figure. Even without the missing breast, she still had sensational legs, and the body of a model. He seemed to be noticing things like that more and more these days, especially on Daphne. |
| 157 |
He and Daphne had been behaving themselves admirably, though not without enormous effort. Only once, he had given in to the urge to kiss her when they were alone in his office. But otherwise, they had done nothing they shouldn't have, in spite of a number of meetings and business lunches together with clients. |
| 158 |
His partners had wondered about it too, but no one had dared to ask, only Simon continued to make a crack now and then about how appealing English girls were, particularly his cousin. Sam always agreed with him but no one except Daphne knew how infatuated he was with her, or how desperately horny she made him. |
| 159 |
He was too scared of what would happen after that, what she might expect from him, and he might not be able to deliver. Nothing about her turned him on right now. She was intrinsically too ill, her body had changed too much, there was too much fear and too many bad memories for him even to want to try it. |
| 160 |
He laughed, and Alex grinned. It was the happiest they'd been in a month, and the rest of the evening was just as pleasant. They stopped and visited friends, shared a glass of wine with them, ate candy with the kids, and by the time they got home, Annabelle was half asleep, and her parents were both in very good humor. |
| 161 |
Before that, it had meant nothing. Thinking about it made Alex sad again, knowing that she would probably never have more children. It was just too unlikely now, with the statistics of sterility after chemo and the importance of not getting pregnant for the next five years. And by then, she'd be forty seven. |
| 162 |
The prospect of another baby was over. She also knew that, at forty two, she would probably go through menopause, as a consequence of having chemo. It was still difficult to understand the words, to absorb them, to make them hers, mastectomy, malignancy, chemotherapy, nodular involvement, metastasis. |
| 163 |
He never even took his nose out of the Wall Street Journal to kiss her good bye, but she was getting used to it. And at least now she'd have her work to keep her busy, and her colleagues to talk to. The last two weeks had been the loneliest in her life, and she couldn't imagine anything worse than what had happened. |
| 164 |
And with that she hailed a cab with her right arm, and hopped into it and headed downtown. Her left side was still a little sensitive, but she felt alive again for the first time in two weeks. It had been exactly two weeks to the day, almost to the hour, since her mastectomy, and she already felt better. |
| 165 |
There was a handful of names who had chosen to wait the two weeks for Alex, and she sat down and read the names and information, as Liz went to get her a cup of coffee. She looked up when Liz came back in, and smiled. It felt great to be back in her chair, to be here among friends, and to feel useful. |
| 166 |
Although she liked doing libel occasionally, this one was too hot to handle. The woman claimed that one of the most respectable magazines in the country had libeled her. It was not going to be easy to prove, given the limited rights of celebrities in the press, and the magazine's powerful reputation. |
| 167 |
At first, she found it irritating in the extreme, but eventually she came to understand that these people cared, they wanted to help her, they wanted to do everything they could to help her make it. Their regard for her professionally translated instantly into how much they cared about her as a person. |
| 168 |
By now, he knew a lot more than she'd told him. But Matt Billings had been so upset he'd told his secretary and four other partners right after his lunch with Alex. And they had told their secretaries, who told associates, who had told other partners, who had told their paralegals, who had told... it was limitless. |
| 169 |
Moving toward Alex again would have meant giving up something with Daphne. But getting closer to her meant betraying his wife. And for the moment, he was just standing in the middle, panicking, getting closer to neither. But he also knew that while he agonized over it, he was destroying his relationship with Alex. |
| 170 |
Whatever he needed to warm up to her again, he was definitely not getting it, and she was just going to have to be patient. A woman in the group had had similar problems with her husband, and they had even separated for a year. He just couldn't face her raw need, and the fear of her dying, so he had shut her out. |
| 171 |
And Daphne sympathized completely. She asked if he wanted to come over for a little while, but he said he really didn't think he should. He knew he was too vulnerable now, he needed her too much. And he couldn't let her be the excuse for ending his marriage. He had to work this thing out, and see it through. |
| 172 |
He had failed her completely. In six weeks he had negated everything they'd ever shared, denied anything they'd ever felt, and destroyed all the hope and respect they had built in seventeen years together. And the promise of "for better or worse, in sickness and in health" had been completely forgotten. |
| 173 |
Alex had scheduled the appointment at noon, and was expecting to be back in the office at one thirty. Both Brock and Liz knew that she was starting chemotherapy on that day, and of course Sam did too. He had left for the office, after their massive argument the night before, without even bothering to have breakfast. |
| 174 |
She had already figured out one thing, she was going to have to get through this without him. The building was a modern one, off Third Avenue, and the waiting room was well decorated and had an open, airy feeling. It was warmly lit, and decorated in soft yellow, and everything about it was deceptively cheerful. |
| 175 |
And like the other doctors involved, she felt absolutely sure that chemotherapy was necessary to obtain a complete cure. They couldn't take the risk of leaving even a fraction of a cell to divide and spread. Only a hundred percent cure was acceptable, and would assure Alex that she would remain free of cancer. |
| 176 |
She had had the optimum outcome. It was a relief hearing about it, except that even with the good news came bad news. The bad news was that she had had cancer at all, and she had six months of chemotherapy ahead of her now, which profoundly depressed her. When they talked about it, Dr. Webber understood. |
| 177 |
She had a sympathetic face, and small, neat looking, immaculate hands, which moved to emphasize what she was saying. She tried to explain to Alex that while the side effects of chemotherapy could be disagreeable, they were not as fearsome as people believed, and with proper treatment they could be managed. |
| 178 |
Only the weight gain surprised Alex, it would have seemed that with the nausea and vomiting she would lose weight and not gain it, but the doctor explained it just seemed to be an unavoidable factor, like the hair loss. She suggested that Alex go out and select a wig she liked immediately, even several of them. |
| 179 |
The nausea, the vomiting, the loss of hair, the relentlessness of it made her feel breathless. The doctor explained that she would have a physical exam each time she came, a blood test, and regular scans and X rays, all of which could be performed in her office. They had the latest state of the art equipment. |
| 180 |
The way things were going she wasn't sure she cared. And thinking about that brought tears to her eyes, as the doctor pricked her finger for her blood count. Suddenly, there was a catch in her throat for everything, and as the doctor set up the IV, Alex suddenly found herself sobbing and apologizing for it. |
| 181 |
I'd like to see you back here exactly a week from today, and I want to hear from you if you think you're having any problems. Don't be shy, don't hesitate, don't tell yourself you're being a nuisance. If anything seems unusual to you at all, or you just feel rotten, call me. We can see what we can do to help you. |
| 182 |
Alex was stunned to realize as she left that she had been at the oncologist's for two hours. It was just after two o'clock, and her hand was still sore as she hailed a cab. There was a Band Aid over where the doctor had injected the medications. Alex was beginning to learn all the terms and phrases. |
| 183 |
It was information she would have been happier not knowing, and she felt enormously relieved as she rode back to the office. She didn't feel sick, she hadn't died, nothing terrible had happened to her. At least the doctor knew what she was doing. She thought about buying a wig as they drove down Lexington Avenue. |
| 184 |
But the doctor was probably right. It would be less upsetting to have one on hand when she needed it, rather than going to stores, hiding her balding head with a scarf on. The thought of it was far from cheering. She paid the cab and went up to her office, and Liz was away from her desk when she got in. |
| 185 |
It wasn't cloying and intrusive, it was just very obvious that he cared, and that touched her. He was almost like a younger brother. "So far so good. It was scary as hell though." She didn't know him well enough to tell him she'd cried, that she'd been to hell and back, waiting for the injection to kill her. |
| 186 |
But she was still suing. She claimed she wasn't promoted because of her cancer. What the woman wanted was to make some money, sit at home, and be able to pay for all her treatments and then some with what she made on the lawsuit. The cancer appeared to have been cured, and she didn't even want to work anymore. |
| 187 |
As usual, Alex felt very sorry for the defendant. She hated the injustice of people who thought they ought to clean up just because someone else had money and they didn't. And it was also a good time for her to be taking the case, because she had a lot of very useful firsthand information about cancer. |
| 188 |
She wasn't looking forward to going back in a week, but maybe it would be better this time, and after that she had a three week break before the next one. Liz had filled her prescription for the pills, and she had them in her handbag. It was like being on the pill again, which she hadn't been in years. |
| 189 |
Alex hadn't heard from him all day and she assumed that he was still furious about the night before. But now she couldn't even tell him that the chemo had gone smoothly. She thought of calling him at work, but after all the ugliness they'd exchanged the night before, she thought it was better to wait until she saw him. |
| 190 |
She felt as though she never saw him. She had dinner with Annabelle, and decided to try and wait up for him. But she was so exhausted that she fell asleep at nine o'clock, in bed, with the light on. It had been the hardest day of her life, harder even than the surgery, and she was totally exhausted. |
| 191 |
At first he thought it was a machine, and then he thought it might be the alarm, and then some crazy sense told him the elevator might be broken. But no matter what, the sound wouldn't stop, and when he finally woke up and turned over, he realized that it was Alex, vomiting and retching uncontrollably in the bathroom. |
| 192 |
She also offered her additional medication for the vomiting, which might help, but Alex was afraid to put any more chemicals into her system, and the additional medications had their own side effects as well. "Thank you," Alex rasped, and went to vomit again, but this time it was all over in a few minutes. |
| 193 |
It was bad enough to wake him up vomiting, but she knew how he hated her explanations to Annabelle. "Sorry," she said pointedly at him, in less than pleasant tones, and he went back to his paper. She hung back while he left to take Annabelle to school, and he made no further mention of her vomiting that morning. |
| 194 |
She washed her face again, and brushed her teeth, and put another cold cloth on her head, and then with a look of determination she put on her coat and picked up her briefcase. She had to sit down in the hall again, and her stomach turned, but she made it to the elevator and down to the street, and felt better. |
| 195 |
It was fully an hour later when the food caught up with her, and suddenly she looked panicked, as she felt it rising. She had a tiny bathroom adjacent to her office, and without a word to Brock, she disappeared, and vomited horribly and then retched for half an hour while he couldn't help but hear it. |
| 196 |
He put the ice pack on the back of her neck, and the wet cloth on her forehead. And for an instant, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, but she didn't speak. She couldn't. He flushed the toilet for her, and put the lid down, and after a little while, he laid her down on the pillow, and covered her with a blanket. |
| 197 |
It took him a few minutes to catch a cab, and he told her to wait inside while he did. She was about to argue with him, but he didn't hang around to discuss it with her, and he was very firm in his directions. He had already paid the taxi for her, so no one else would hijack it, when he came back inside to get her. |
| 198 |
And by the time she got home to Annabelle, she felt like a dishrag. She would have liked to have a warm bath with her, but Annabelle still hadn't seen her scar, and she had no intention of letting her see it. So she had a bath by herself with her bathroom door locked, and sat at dinner with Annabelle, but ate nothing. |
| 199 |
In fact, it was less frightening not to be alone and have him with her. She was ashamed for feeling that way, but when she lay against him afterwards, she looked up at him, wondering why he did it. "You should have been a doctor." She grinned foolishly at him. This was certainly one way to establish a friendship. |
| 200 |
Survival was more to the point. That was the only issue at the moment. They worked together all afternoon, and at the end of the day, he got her a cab again, although she insisted she felt fine. And on Friday, she managed to take Annabelle to ballet. Remarkably, she was doing everything she needed to. |
| 201 |
They went downstairs together, and for an odd instant, she felt sad when she left him. She could be so honest and outspoken with him. While she sat throwing up next to him, she had come to rely on him, and on being able to tell him her feelings. Suddenly a four day holiday without talking to him seemed very lonely. |
| 202 |
He had had his own tender partings at the office too. Daphne was going to Washington, D.C., that night to visit friends, and he felt an ache of loneliness when he took her to the train and watched her leave. He was getting more and more attached to her, and more and more unhappy whenever he didn't see her. |
| 203 |
Her bladder bothered her too that night, and by the time she got to bed, Sam was asleep and she felt like death and she looked it. He had promised to help her in the morning. She set her alarm clock for six fifteen, so she could put the turkey in the oven. It was a big bird, and it would take a long time to cook. |
| 204 |
She went to get out of her nightgown then, and put on a white dress and comb her hair. But she didn't have time or feel well enough to put on makeup. She was almost the color of the dress when they finally sat down to eat. And Sam glanced at her, as he carved, irritated that she hadn't made the effort to put on makeup. |
| 205 |
Years when his mother had been too sick even to come out of her room, or cook a turkey. His father usually got drunk. And once he was at school, he hadn't even bothered to come home for Thanksgiving. The holidays meant a lot to him, and it meant a lot to him to have Alex make the effort. She always had before. |
| 206 |
After the football game, he went out alone that afternoon. He went for a long walk in the park, by himself, and when he came back, they ate leftovers, and Alex seemed to be in better spirits. Having ruined their Thanksgiving meal, she was free to perk up now, and feel better. Or at least that was his perception of it. |
| 207 |
It was hard to believe things would ever get any better. And she surprised Sam with what she said when he came back from putting Annabelle to bed. Alex looked over at him with a look of resignation. Maybe she had to finally accept it, that things were never going to be the same again, and it was all over. |
| 208 |
He never said another word to her, he went out and walked for hours, to the river, and then slowly south, until he finally found himself on Fifty third Street. He knew what he wanted, and he wondered if he had destroyed his marriage just so he could have it. But it was too late to think about that now. |
| 209 |
She was so healthy and young, so beautiful, and so perfect. He pressed the buzzer downstairs, and she buzzed him in, and he bounded up the steps like a teenager, and then stopped as he saw her standing in the doorway. Her luxurious black hair hung past her shoulders, concealing one breast, and leaving the other bare. |
| 210 |
After that, he and Daphne went to Bloomingdale's and he bought half a dozen shirts, some jeans, corduroy pants, a jacket, socks, some underwear, and a sweater. And then they went to the drugstore and bought a razor and all the toiletries he needed. He didn't want to go home just yet, he didn't want to see them. |
| 211 |
He wanted to be completely alone with Daphne. He cooked dinner for Daphne that night, and she pretended to help him, but she insisted on wandering in and out of the kitchen stark naked. And in the end, he almost burned their dinner. They left it in the microwave and went to bed. And at midnight, she made him an omelet. |
| 212 |
All thoughts of their families disappeared in an instant. But later that night she told him that she was taking her son skiing in Switzerland for a week at Christmas. It would make die choice of who to be with over the holidays a little easier for him, and he suggested he meet her after her son went back to his father. |
| 213 |
Sam never came home on Sunday night, although she thought he would, but she wasn't worried about it. She was sad, but not really concerned. He had called Annabelle a couple of times over the weekend, but Alex hadn't talked to him. She had just handed the phone to her daughter, and tried not to think about her husband. |
| 214 |
It was actually a relief when Monday rolled around, and she could go back to work and try to forget her problems. And after she dropped Annabelle off at school, she got to the office and felt better. Everyone looked rested and happier after the long weekend. Even Alex did, although it certainly hadn't been a good one. |
| 215 |
Although for the next two weeks she felt a lot better than she had before that. She had stopped taking the pills, according to her treatment plan, and she wasn't due for another intravenous treatment until two weeks before Christmas. But when she started them again, she was just as sick as she had been the first time. |
| 216 |
He comes in at midnight, or he doesn't come in at all, he lives in the guest room like a stranger, and the only time I ever see him is with my daughter. I'm sick all the time, she's scared of me now, and wait till she sees me without hair. The poor kid isn't even four years old yet, and she has a monster for a mother. |
| 217 |
Who would have thought three months before that the three most important people in her life would turn out to be her housekeeper, her secretary, and her associate at the law firm? But they were all godsends. And she couldn't have made it without them. She also would never have expected Sam to fail her. |
| 218 |
And the next morning she felt surprisingly better. Until she looked in the mirror again, and saw that more hair had fallen out during the night. There were three huge locks of it in her scarf, and she had a crazy urge to save it. And when she looked in the mirror, she saw that parts of her scalp were already showing. |
| 219 |
It made her cry again. She was losing everything. She didn't even feel like a woman now, just a thing, a body that was falling apart slowly. She hastily put her scarf back on before Annabelle came in, and she was surprised to see Sam with her when she went to make her breakfast. He had already given her cornflakes. |
| 220 |
She paid for them by check, and cautiously put one on. If anything it was even more lush and a little longer than her own hair, and it was beautifully styled and very glamorous. It was a great look with her green suit, and she tied the scarf around her neck and felt human again. It was amazing the difference hair made. |
| 221 |
She worked alone at her desk for the rest of the afternoon, and she met with two of her partners before she went home. Brock was going Christmas shopping again, and when she got home, Carmen was wrapping her presents. It made her feel useless and helpless, but she was too exhausted even to offer to help her. |
| 222 |
Sam came home with a Christmas tree that night, and he stuck around long enough to decorate it, and then he left. And she sat alone, feeling depressed, remembering the Christmas before Annabelle was born, only four years before, and countless others. It all seemed so long ago, and like part of another world. |
| 223 |
Alex was lying there, on the floor, with her wig off, and her eyes closed. Almost all of her hair was gone now. It had fallen out in a matter of days, and the day before she had cut most of it off, there were just little tufts now, but even those were coming out daily. There was almost nothing left now. |
| 224 |
Christmas was two days away, and she felt as though she had barely acknowledged it. Liz and Brock had done all her shopping for her, except for a beautiful dresser set she had Tiffany's send her for Sam, and an art book she'd been saving for him for ages. She hadn't been to any parties, or seen any friends. |
| 225 |
She was standing there looking at them, when a particularly striking girl came out the door and down the steps, laughing and talking in an English accent. She was wearing a short black coat, and she had fabulous legs in tall black suede boots. And she was wearing a huge sable hat that made her look very romantic. |
| 226 |
It reminded her of years before, and her and Sam. He even looked a little like him. He was wearing a well cut navy blue coat, and their arms were full of packages wrapped in bright red paper with gold bows. There was something achingly bittersweet about the pair, they looked so young and so in love. |
| 227 |
What if he'd used her sickness as an excuse to leave her? She wanted to tear her eyes away from them, but she couldn't bring herself to, as he tucked a hand into the woman's arm and they crossed the street to another store as Alex watched them. They had no idea she was there, and Sam had no clue that she had seen him. |
| 228 |
She hurried back up Madison then, not hearing the carolers, or the Santa Clauses ringing bells, or seeing the people or the Christmas trees or the windows. She saw nothing except her own life, lying in shards around her. She was back at the apartment half an hour after she'd left it, looking worse instead of better. |
| 229 |
She was deathly pale, and her hands shook violently as she hung up her coat, and walked somberly into her bedroom. She closed the door and lay down on the bed, wondering how she would ever face him again. That was why he had wanted his freedom. It had all been a sham, a game, saying that he needed time. |
| 230 |
To her own eyes, she looked a hundred years old, and as she slowly pulled the wig off, she saw what she had become. She was disfigured and bald. She had cancer, she had lost a breast, and her hair. She thought of the girl she had seen with him, and knew the ugliest of truths. She was no longer a woman. |
| 231 |
Sam had always been generous and he had bought something pretty for Alex too, though nothing quite as important. He had bought her a very handsome Bulgari watch that he knew she'd wanted for a while, but none of the thoughtful little things that expressed his interest and affection. He didn't want to mislead her. |
| 232 |
Alex had never told him. It made him realize how out of touch he was. He had been so wrapped up in Daphne and their love affair for the last month, that he hadn't focused on anything else. He hadn't wanted to know what was going on at home, and he hadn't even paid serious attention to what was happening at the office. |
| 233 |
In spite of their close working relationship, she hardly knew him. And she didn't want to go alone. There was no point. She was better off in her own apartment, her own bed, with her own things, close to her doctor, if she had a problem. She was very introverted these days, and very dependent on the familiar. |
| 234 |
He doubted it. She was too involved with herself right now to even think there was someone else. She couldn't possibly suspect it. All of Annabelle's presents were wrapped and hidden in a locked closet. They set them out under the tree shortly after nine, and then they retired to their own rooms, like strangers. |
| 235 |
Annabelle loved all her gifts and Sam was touched by the lavishness of Alex's gift to him, and he said he loved it. She liked the watch, although she understood the message he had been giving her, that this was no longer a time for personal gifts between them, and the clarity of it hurt her feelings. |
| 236 |
She managed to cook a roast beef and popovers for all of them, and to conceal how sick she felt through most of it. But it wasn't nearly as disastrous as Thanksgiving. She lay down afterwards to rest, and just for the fun of it, since they were at home, she wore her short wig, and she and Annabelle looked like twins. |
| 237 |
She forced herself to get up again after that, and finish packing the suitcase. She was not going to let anything like that happen, she was not going to lose her to Sam, or that woman. Fearing that made her stay up for dinner with them that night, although she was truly exhausted after all the efforts of Christmas. |
| 238 |
And then she pulled her close to her, and held her as though she were afraid she might never see her again. Sensing her mother's panic, Annabelle started to cry when she left her, and they clung to each other for a long time. Annabelle knew how much her mother loved her, and instinctively felt how alone she was. |
| 239 |
Alex had no business clinging to her and scaring her the way she did. It brought back all the same feelings of resentment he'd had since October, and ever since his own mother had died years before. For Sam it was a relief to get away from her. Just being around her was depressing, no matter how hard she tried. |
| 240 |
Without Annabelle, Alex had said she didn't need any help, and she had given her the day off. Alex wandered aimlessly around the apartment, and finally went to her bathroom to take a shower. She was trying to talk herself into getting dressed, and going out for a walk, so she wouldn't feel so lonely. |
| 241 |
She was even less than that. She looked like a nothing, like a mannequin, with no hair and one breast, the kind that you find lying disassembled on the floor in department stores on the day that they change the windows. She started to cry as she saw herself, and realized that not only Sam was gone but Annabelle. |
| 242 |
She felt ugly, useless, and sick. She almost wondered if it wouldn't be easier to die, to just give up now, before she lost even more than she already had. Why wait until the rest was taken from her? Until Sam told her he wanted a divorce so he could marry that girl, and Annabelle fell in love with her. |
| 243 |
Her stomach revolted finally from all the anguish of her illness and her realizations, and naked, she knelt on the floor and began vomiting, and eventually there was only retching. It was all too familiar now. It was what she had become, a broken machine that could only spew bile. There was nothing left of her. |
| 244 |
He was contemplating doing one or the other. He didn't like the way she sounded, especially since she was alone. There was always the possibility that in light of her present state of mind, she might do something crazy. "I'm fine," she said, lying very still with her eyes closed, so she wouldn't vomit. |
| 245 |
She hung up and forgot about him. She wanted to forget everything. Maybe if she just starved herself for six days until Annabelle came home, she'd be dead when they found her. It was a lot easier than dying by chemo. She drifted off to sleep, and a little while later, she heard an alarm, or a bell, or a sound. |
| 246 |
She tried to ignore it for a long time, and then she realized it was her doorbell. She couldn't imagine who it was, and she tried to ignore it some more, but it wouldn't stop. And then someone started pounding on the door, so she put her dressing gown on, and went to the door and looked through the peephole. |
| 247 |
She was so surprised, she opened it and they stood staring at each other, she in her beige cashmere robe and he in a heavy sweater and parka, corduroy pants, and heavy boots. There was a smell of fresh air about him, and he looked very worried when he saw her. "I was worried sick about you," he said as she stood there. |
| 248 |
It's a precious commodity. And the rest of us need you. But when you look in the mirror, and you don't like what you see, you remember that that woman is you. All the trappings mean nothing. You are exactly who you were before all this happened. If anything, you're more, not less. Don't forget that. |
| 249 |
She cried softly then, thinking of what Brock had just taught her, and she turned on the shower, and let it run across her head and down her shoulders, and in warm sheets across her body. She put jeans and a sweater on, and the short wig she had left on the sink that morning, after she shook her own hair out of it. |
| 250 |
The potatoes were too much for her, but she struggled with the toast and the scrambled eggs, and managed to eat a little. But she didn't want to push her luck and spend the rest of the night sick in the bathroom. Her stomach was a disaster but she suspected that for once Sam was right, and it was due to emotions. |
| 251 |
After the chemo, she just didn't have the strength. But she felt healthier than she had in weeks. She only had one really bad day. But she stayed in bed, and by evening she was better. He found an old sled in the garage the day after they arrived and he pulled her around, so she wouldn't get too tired. |
| 252 |
He cooked dinner for her at night, and when she told him to go out with friends, he only laughed at her and told her he was too tired. He liked staying home with her. But one night they even went to Chez Henri for dinner, where they had a lovely time, and by the end of the week, Alex was feeling a lot better again. |
| 253 |
She's an awfully pretty girl, Brock. Actually, she's the right age for you. Maybe you should go sweep her off her feet, and provide some stiff competition. He didn't tell her that he'd rather have swept her off her feet. It didn't seem the right moment. And she was so at ease with him, he didn't want to spoil that. |
| 254 |
She was quiet on the drive home, thinking of seeing Sam again, even if only for one night. She knew he was leaving for Europe the next day, and she assumed she knew why. To meet his little friend there. Brock asked her from time to time if she was all right, and she said she was, but she was very pensive. |
| 255 |
The entire day was a disaster, even with Carmen's help, and Alex cried when she saw the disappointment in Annabelle's eyes. Sam had flown in late the night before, and he was jet lagged and cranky, and obviously not pleased to be back, and when he saw Annabelle's chopped off hair, he went absolutely crazy. |
| 256 |
But the next day, he and Alex sat down and talked in earnest. This wasn't working out. It was time for him to move out, and they both knew it. Their battle in front of Annabelle the day before had shaken them both. But he absolutely amazed her by saying he didn't think he should go until she finished her treatments. |
| 257 |
She knew that eventually, now, or in four months, he was going to leave her. And in most ways, he already had. And when she told him the next day, Brock couldn't believe the arrangement they had come to. It made sense, for Annabelle's sake, but it was hard on everyone else, and just seemed to drag things out forever. |
| 258 |
It made her sad seeing them again. A lot of things made her sad these days. The way Annabelle looked when her father left, or when she asked about him, and Alex had to find excuses about why he didn't sleep there very often. It still made her sad to see what her body looked like, or that her hair didn't grow back. |
| 259 |
And even though she called his friend a bimbo, she suspected that they would probably get married. He was obviously very involved with her, and he was very protective whenever Alex tried to ask him questions. He had never actually acknowledged that there was someone else, but it had become obvious that Alex knew. |
| 260 |
But he was always a gentleman, and refused to discuss her with Alex. It also meant that Alex had to get on with her life too. She had to face the fact that Sam was gone, even if he still lived in the same apartment for the moment. When the chemotherapy was over, she could go back to trial work again. |
| 261 |
He had even gone to the doctor with her once so he could understand it better and see what it was like. He had held her hand through the entire procedure. There was very little he hadn't done for her in the past six months. He had become like a brother to her, and there was nothing she was afraid to tell or show him. |
| 262 |
She didn't see anything wrong with showing him what they were discussing. She looked at him oddly then, wondering what he would think of it. She genuinely trusted his opinion, and his kind heart. "Do you want to see it?" she asked casually, like a kid offering to drop his pants to one of his playmates. |
| 263 |
It was like a slow and very respectable striptease. She stood before him, in all her nakedness, with one breast bare, and the other missing. He looked at her eyes first, before he looked anywhere else, and the way she looked at him gave him permission. It was a clean, simple look that passed between them. |
| 264 |
And as he looked at her, his heart went out to her. She looked so sweet and so young, and so vulnerable, the one breast was still high and firm, the other looked as though it had been slashed from her body with a saber. And without thinking, he reached his arms out to her, and pulled her slowly toward him. |
| 265 |
And as he did, one hand gently caressed the breast she had, and the other hand tenderly touched the scar, and then her stomach and her back. And when he pulled her close to him, he held her in his strong hands, and she could almost feel the air go out of her in a rush, and then he kissed her harder. |
| 266 |
And he knew he would never let her go now. He had waited too long for her to come to him, and she had drifted into his arms naked and without guile, and now he would do anything he had to, to keep her. At last, she was his now, and no longer Sam's. And Brock had every intention of holding on to her forever. |
| 267 |
He had flowers for her, and he kissed her gently the minute he saw her. She was in a nightgown and dressing gown, and the dressing gown fell open as he kissed her and caressed her. She had put on one of her wigs before he came, and he teased her about it and reminded her that she didn't have to wear it for him. |
| 268 |
Then he went to the kitchen, and put the flowers in a vase for her. She was looking a lot better than she had that afternoon, and he sat on the edge of the bed and talked to her for a long time, running a lazy finger down her body to all the places that intrigued him. "I'm a lucky man," he said, watching her. |
| 269 |
And then it all began again, the vomiting, the fatigue, and then finally the two or three good weeks until the next time. But the time seemed to fly now. They stole what time they could, at her apartment late at night, when Sam wasn't there, which was most of the time, or at his place whenever Carmen stayed. |
| 270 |
They got hungrier for each other by the day. And once they even got carried away in her office bathroom. He had gone back out with his shirt buttoned wrong and his tie askew and Alex had laughed so hard she could hardly control herself. They were like two kids, but they were having fun, and they deserved it. |
| 271 |
Alex shared all her cases with him, and no one found it unusual, since she had been so sick since the fall, and relied on him so much to help her carry her workload. Everyone seemed very impressed by their system, and their results. It was the perfect relationship, and they were together constantly. |
| 272 |
She had been patient for long enough, and she wanted him to herself now. He always felt a little torn between coming home at night, not that he wanted to, but he felt guilty about Annabelle, and as though he should be there in the morning. "I haven't found anything yet. I'll let you know," he said coolly. |
| 273 |
She had seemed so dead in those early months, and now she seemed to be coming slowly alive again. It made him feel better about leaving her, and worse at the same time. And much to his own surprise, it also made him miss her. "I'm fine," she reassured him. But talking to him still made her sad, and angry sometimes. |
| 274 |
It made him smile sheepishly, he knew he was foolish to have regrets about the past. It was over and gone. It had been good then, but this was better now. And as usual, when he slid his hand under her skirt, he found no barriers to his fingers. She wore no underwear, no pantyhose, and he loved that. |
| 275 |
This would never happen to her again. She felt sure of it. She wouldn't let it. They went back to the office, and spent a quiet afternoon. She was sick, but even that didn't seem as bad as usual. Even her body seemed to know that it had suffered the last assault, the last vicious attack on her system. |
| 276 |
Suddenly they could make plans, they could lead a life. They could go away. She was a real person again, with hopes, and dreams, and, with luck, a future. The next few weeks were frantic for her. She was still catching up on work, and she was taking on more responsibilities again, for future trials. |
| 277 |
He had finally found a penthouse that he liked. It was close to where they currently lived, and had a living room with spectacular views, a handsome dining room, three bedrooms and servants' quarters, and a kitchen that had been in House and Garden. It cost an arm and a leg, but Daphne absolutely adored it. |
| 278 |
They had made it. Bad things had happened to them, but they had managed to live through it. She went back out to see Sam again, before he left, and she found him packing a suitcase in the guest bedroom. Most of his things were still there, but he had told her that he'd be moving in the next two weeks. |
| 279 |
Sam could have used a little of that kind of weekend too. He picked Annabelle up at school, with her suitcase, and took her for a quick lunch, before they picked up Daphne and headed for Southampton. He had wanted to have lunch alone with Annabelle first, so he could prepare her, but she seemed more confused than ever. |
| 280 |
Annabelle was downstairs in the car, he had the keys, and he was keeping an eye on her from the window. "Or at least a maid. We won't be able to go anywhere with a child that age. We'll be bloody well stuck all weekend." It was a side of her he'd never seen, but she was anything but amused as he picked up her suitcase. |
| 281 |
I must say, you treat children in America in quite extraordinary ways. They're dreadfully spoiled and the center of everything. It's not even healthy for them. I promise you, she needs to be treated like a child, Sam. She'd be much happier at home, with a nanny or a maid, than dragging around everywhere with you. |
| 282 |
Annabelle never took her eyes off her plate, and didn't eat anything. She had heard everything that Daphne had said, and for the moment she hated her and wanted to go back to her Mommy, and after lunch she said as much to her father. But he explained unhappily that her Mommy was away for the weekend. |
| 283 |
And she laughed at him, and said she didn't have one. The next day was more of the same, and all of them were relieved when they finally drove back to the city. Alex was already at home waiting for them, alone, when they arrived. And Daphne waited in the car downstairs while Sam took Annabelle upstairs to her mother. |
| 284 |
It was odd, because he hadn't asked Alex for the divorce yet, but she knew it was coming, probably at the end of the summer. He probably just didn't want to look like he was pushing. She had resigned herself to it by then. Their marriage was history, it had never been as glamorous as his life with Daphne anyway. |
| 285 |
It was simple and comfortable, with blue and white checked curtains and sisal on the floor. There was a big homey kitchen with Portuguese tiles, and a sweet little garden for Annabelle to play in. She thought the house was pretty too, when they took her there for the first time on the Fourth of July weekend. |
| 286 |
Annabelle was completely happy and at ease with him, and the three of them went everywhere together. Alex was getting her full strength back rapidly, and she was full of energy and good spirits. And in mid July she surprised both of them by coming downstairs without her wig. Her hair was soft and short and curly. |
| 287 |
He had called her, and sent her a dozen postcards. But Alex hadn't talked to him, he never called when she was there. She didn't want to ask him for the divorce over the phone anyway. She had no doubts anymore. Brock had convinced her. He had done more than any man ever could to prove himself to her. |
| 288 |
He examined Alex's breast, or where it had been, and looked at the other one too, and told her he thought they could do a good job for her. They could either put an implant in or do a tissue expansion, which would require two months of weekly injections of saline solution to obtain the desired form. |
| 289 |
He had had a cancellation at the end of the week, and he told her to expect to spend four days in the hospital, but after that she could go back to work. It would be painful for a while, more painful than her previous surgery, he confessed, but nothing like the discomfort she had experienced with chemo. |
| 290 |
He was very pleased. It was a complicated procedure but everything had gone smoothly. "I think she'll be very happy with the results." He had put an implant in, and as her original breast had been small, it did not require extensive tissue expansion although of course there had been some to obtain the desired form. |
| 291 |
She stayed in her office, and she was wearing one of Brock's shirts over the bandages. He brought her lunch, and at the end of the day they went back to his apartment. And on Thursday, a week after the surgery, the dressing had come off, and the stitches were removed, before they went back to East Hampton. |
| 292 |
They were on the yacht by then, and some of Daphne's fancy English friends had joined them. It was a very worldly group with very sophisticated pastimes, and they were spending a lot of time visiting people on other yachts, and in villas along the Riviera. And in a few days they were going to Sardinia. |
| 293 |
But when Sam brought her back to East Hampton early on Sunday afternoon, it was obvious that something had happened. He was very terse when he dropped her off, and he was alone, and although she knew Brock was anxious for her to talk to him, there was no opportunity before he got in his car and sped off. |
| 294 |
His reputation was down the drain, and his entire life had fallen apart, seemingly all in six weeks, while he was in Europe with Daphne. Alex had asked him if he minded having Brock in on the meeting with them, and though he wasn't enthusiastic about it, he agreed, if she thought it would be useful. |
| 295 |
He wanted all the help he could get, and he was very grateful to Alex. He told her she was the best attorney he knew, and he valued her opinion. He did not say more than that but the look that passed between them was old and familiar. They had known and loved each other for a long time, it was hard to forget that. |
| 296 |
What appeared to have happened, as far as he could discern, was that Simon had been slowly and steadily introducing unscrupulous clients into their business, and falsifying their histories and reports from various banks in Europe. And then, in ways Sam had not yet completely figured out, Simon had begun juggling money. |
| 297 |
It had apparently gone on for months, and Sam admitted, without accusing her, that during the time of her illness and the stress between them, he had stopped paying as close attention as he should to his business. He didn't want to tell her, unless he had to, that he had also been distracted by his affair with Daphne. |
| 298 |
She felt sorry for him, but not as sorry as she should be. In some ways, he had deserved this. He had trusted Simon when he shouldn't have, when his own instincts had warned him right from the beginning. And he had kept his eyes closed while Simon destroyed not only his business, but his life and his future. |
| 299 |
He sits there in his expensive suit and his ten thousand dollar watch, having just walked off a yacht in the South of France, and he's all surprised that his partners are crooks and he's been indicted by the grand jury. Well, I'm not surprised at all. I think he was probably in on it from the beginning. |
| 300 |
He felt sure that the matter would go to trial and what would happen in front of a jury was unpredictable. Sam had a good chance of losing. Particularly if the jury didn't believe him. The strongest thing he had going for him was the fact that he really hadn't known what had happened, until very late in the day. |
| 301 |
Let's have a little respect for the guy, or at least compassion. He's under a grand jury indictment for embezzlement and fraud. He has just come home from Europe to find that out. And after seventeen years of marriage, and one child, I think I can give him a few weeks' grace to deal with his other problems. |
| 302 |
He went back to his office in a fury, and she didn't see him again until they left the office together at seven o'clock that evening. But even then, Brock was in a bad mood, and he sulked at her all through dinner. She had never seen him behave that way, and it took endless cajoling to finally get him to stop it. |
| 303 |
I found out that my wife knew about us all along, by the way. I must say, you have to give the poor woman credit. I gave her the worst deal any woman's ever had this side of hell, while she lies around half dead puking her brains out on chemo, and she's elegant enough not to admit she knows we're having an affair. |
| 304 |
She had grown to like him better than she meant to. She was not one to get involved, or stay that way forever. And with him it had been different. But even she knew, it was all over. He shook his head in answer to her question. He left the apartment for a long, quiet walk then. He had a lot to think about. |
| 305 |
The worst of it for Sam was that she seemed to bear him no malice. It would almost have been easier if she'd hated him, but apparently she didn't. She seemed not to care about what he'd done to her at all. She had made her peace with everything that had happened to her. He had no idea how she'd done it. |
| 306 |
He would be stripped to the bone, and bared for all to see, all his sins, and stupidities, and failings, and then he would be at the mercy of twelve good men, or women, a jury of his peers, who would determine his future. It was pretty scary. And then she remembered that it was almost the Labor Day weekend. |
| 307 |
She was trying to stay out of it officially, but still keep an eye on things, although from a distance. And she had promised Sam that she would sit through the trial with him, and go to as many meetings before that as she could. But she didn't want Phillip to feel that she was crowding him, or interfering. |
| 308 |
He was still annoyed that she hadn't taken the bull by the horns with Sam, and pressed him for an immediate divorce, and she thought Brock was being unreasonable and childish. They had a big fight about it again on Friday night, and for the first time in her five month affair with him, they both went to bed angry. |
| 309 |
Sometimes she felt light years older, but she was touched by what he was feeling, and he was right in some ways. The things he talked about had bound her to Sam for close to two decades. But Brock had a history with her too, a history of incredible kindness, and she couldn't ignore that either. Besides, she loved him. |
| 310 |
But in the right way, at the right time, without causing even more damage. They spent an easy weekend on the beach, and packed up their things with regret on Monday. He had rented a station wagon to take everything home with them, and they were unpacking her things at her apartment when Sam came home with Annabelle. |
| 311 |
He suddenly felt like a stranger in what had been his home, and he realized he didn't belong there. Brock was painfully polite to him, and Alex was very pleasant, but when he saw Annabelle with them, he realized that this was a unit he could no longer interfere with. They were part of it, and he wasn't. |
| 312 |
Several of her partners had commended her for her fortitude in hanging in while she was sick, and she had become something of a legend in the law firm. And in spite of the amount of time they still spent together almost every day, no one had yet figured out that she and Brock were seriously involved with each other. |
| 313 |
Brock spent every night with them after work, but he still kept his own apartment, and most of the time, he slept there. Neither of them thought it would be good for Annabelle to have him living there full time, so he forced himself to get up in the middle of the night and go home, which they both hated. |
| 314 |
He seemed happier and more at peace, although when Alex saw him at meetings with Phillip, he was strained, and often nervous. The prospect of going to prison terrified him, but he also realized it was a strong possibility. Phillip had told him more than once that keeping him out of jail was going to be a long shot. |
| 315 |
Everyone figured that Simon would somehow weasel out of it, he was just too slippery not to. He'd been continuing to do business in Europe while waiting for the trial, and was involved in half a dozen shady deals there, but nothing seemed to stop him. And it was predicted that Larry and Tom were going to go to jail. |
| 316 |
But she kept promising it was going to happen right after the trial, and she meant it. She and Brock had been physically involved for eight months, and close friends for a lot longer, and she really loved him. But she and Sam had known each other for eighteen years, and loved each other for as long. |
| 317 |
Alex was startled to realize it, but she also found it very touching. The actual trial began on the afternoon of the third day, and there was an air of real tension in the courtroom. The jury had been selected carefully, and they'd been told that the matters before them would be both complicated and financial. |
| 318 |
There were four defendants, who were accused in varying degrees, and each case was explained in excruciating detail. Sam's was explained last, and Alex thought the judge spelled it out very clearly. He was a good judge and she'd always had good experiences with him, but that didn't mean anything now. |
| 319 |
He looked very distinguished and tall as he stood in the courtroom in a dark suit the day after Thanksgiving, and when Alex saw him, she asked how he was doing. She knew how difficult it was for him, how worried he was, and how much he had at stake, his entire future. Or at least a decade or two of it. |
| 320 |
He had had to stop once or twice, when he became overwrought, as the reporters took rapid note of it, but she believed his story. She knew what a nightmarish time it had been for both of them, they had both been out of their minds in their own way, and his affair with Daphne must have clouded his judgment further. |
| 321 |
He had never knowingly been part of their collusion. The jury took five days to deliberate, and called for evidence and testimony. They recalled everything they could, and then finally, it was over. Sam and the others sat looking very pale and were asked to stand when the jury entered the courtroom. |
| 322 |
He then rapped his gavel, and dismissed the court, and there was an instant uproar. Photographers flashed photographs of all of them and Alex had to fight to get where Sam was standing with Phillip. Sam looked like he was in shock when she got to him, and there were tears in his eyes, understandably. |
| 323 |
She felt almost as helpless as he had when he found out she had cancer. There was nothing she could do to change it. "Take good care of Annabelle," he said, and then burst into tears. He sat with his face in his hands for a long time, sobbing, and she said nothing, and walked over to him and gently held his shoulders. |
| 324 |
The past was gone, and it was time to move forward. Besides, she loved him. But Sam was in a pensive mood when she picked Annabelle up at the Carlyle late that afternoon, after their day together. It was as though in the past twenty four hours, the verdict had really sunk in, and he was beginning to panic. |
| 325 |
And he was suddenly a lot less philosophical and less glib than he had been the night before over his Scotch after the verdict. Being with Annabelle had reminded him of all he would lose, and seeing Alex made it even more poignant. He had told Annabelle that afternoon that things hadn't gone well for him. |
| 326 |
She called Sam from the desk downstairs, and he asked her to come up just for a minute. She hesitated, and then decided there was no harm in it. He'd filed for the divorce while she was gone. He understood what she wanted. But when she got upstairs and he opened the door to her, she was shocked when she saw him. |
| 327 |
She would have gone in to help, but she didn't want to walk into Sam's bedroom. And as she looked at him, she saw that he was standing breathlessly close to her, and she saw everything in his eyes that she had once loved there, all the tenderness and love and kindness that had drawn her to him in the first place. |
| 328 |
Annabelle turned half a dozen times to wave at him and tell him she loved him, and Alex made a point of not looking back at him. She was too afraid of what she'd see if she did. And she didn't want to see it. Vulnerable or not, he had touched a part of her she had thought was no longer there, but she knew it was now. |
| 329 |
It reminded her of the old days when they had been dating, and had first fallen in love, but now everything was different for both of them. This was the end, not the beginning. And they knew it. He was calmer than he'd been the past few times she'd seen him, and painfully aware that he was going to prison. |
| 330 |
And then, as they walked along, they stopped at a corner for a red light and he pulled her closer to him and kissed her. It was cold, and as he held her, she hated herself for responding. She didn't say anything, and they walked some more, and then he pulled her gently into a doorway to keep warm, and kissed her again. |
| 331 |
When they passed the Carlyle, he tried to talk her into coming upstairs with him, but she wouldn't. She knew better than to trust him, or herself. And when they got to her building, she kissed him on the cheek, and thanked him for a nice evening. And as she went upstairs, she felt quiet and pensive. |
| 332 |
There was a lot to think about, a lot of feelings to sift through. Brock didn't question where she'd been the night before, but there was an odd atmosphere between them all the next morning in the office. It was as though he knew, but refused to ask her. And then finally, at lunch, he couldn't stand it any longer. |
| 333 |
I am giving you five hundred thousand here for Annabelle, and anything you might need for her. I want you to put it in trust for her. And I'm keeping five hundred thousand for me if I ever get out of jail again. And the last five hundred thousand is for you, as a settlement, if you want to call it that. |
| 334 |
He wanted her to keep it. But she already knew she would put it back in an account for him, he was going to need it a lot more than she did. She had her job, and her needs had never been very expensive. He ordered dinner for them after that. Steak for himself and fish for Alex. She was careful about her diet. |
| 335 |
There was something about the familiarity of him that was mesmerizing. It was as though, even after all this time, she had to be with him. "We'd better stop this now," she said softly, and then, stunned at herself, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him, just for old times' sake, she told herself. |
| 336 |
And he wanted her desperately, not just for old times' sake, but for the present. They were slowly, deliberately, unbuttoning each other's clothes, and she felt frightened as she did it. Their attraction to each other was irresistible and relentless, and there was no stopping what they were feeling. |
| 337 |
He wanted her one last time and then he had promised himself he would let go of her forever. He had no right to ruin her life. He had done enough. He wanted only this last gift from her, and it was obvious as they kissed that, in spite of all her warnings to herself, she wanted it as much as he did. |
| 338 |
She knew he was sorry. There was no point tormenting him over what had happened, though Brock would have been incensed that she forgave him. He would have been incensed over many things. But this wasn't his night, it was hers and Sam's, and it was very precious. He walked her slowly home after that. |
| 339 |
They lingered, with his arm around her shoulders. And then he kissed her again. They stood that way for ages outside his old house, and she wanted to ask him up, but she knew she couldn't. They couldn't go on clinging to the past. They had to let go now. At least they were leaving each other something warm to remember. |
| 340 |
It was just like old times, she thought with a smile, only better. They had both learned a lot in the last year, about loving, and forgiveness. She only prayed that, wherever he went, he would be safe, and find something worthwhile to keep him going. She couldn't be there for him now. She owed too much to Brock. |
| 341 |
They had taken people's money, which was wrong, and now he and the bad men had to go to jail to make up for taking the money. He could have told her that he was going on a long trip. But he didn't. He said that one day she could come to see him, but it wasn't a nice place, and he'd like her to be a little older. |
| 342 |
He told her to be a good girl, take care of Mommy, and always, always remember how much he loved her. He held her tightly in his arms while they all cried, but no one more than Sam or Alex. Annabelle was confused by what was happening, and she was upset that he was going, and that bad men had taken money. |
| 343 |
He had nothing else to lose now. "I'll be there tomorrow," she said, wishing she could be there that night. But it didn't seem wise to do that again. After one night together, they both already felt as though they were still married and belonged together. And that would only complicate things for both of them. |
| 344 |
There was no point dragging it out now. But she still felt as though she belonged to Sam, as she talked to him, or stood next to him. All the old bonds had been re formed in a single moment, and it wasn't fair to either of them. It would just make it harder for both of them when he left tomorrow. And he knew it too. |
| 345 |
He wanted her not to have a history with anyone, no bond to a man she still cared about so deeply. But life was never that simple. It never dealt the easy hands. The quick wins. There were always the difficult combinations, the tough choices, to deal with. But there were no choices for her now. Sam was going. |
| 346 |
In a way, they had healed each other, and perhaps their time together was over. It was sad even thinking of that, but she had learned a lot in the past year about acceptance. And she knew that if she had to be, she could be alone now. But it was odd feeling that she was about to lose both of the men in her life. |
| 347 |
Maybe it was time for her to be on her own. And as she lay in bed that night, she thought of Brock and all he'd done for her, but it was Sam she thought of constantly until morning, Sam who needed her thoughts and her strength now. Sam who seemed to be woven into her very soul, who seemed to be a part of her forever. |
| 348 |
He had maintained till the end that he hadn't known what they were doing, and due to the extenuating circumstances of his wife's illness, and his own stupidity, not to mention his affair with Daphne, he had been temporarily lulled into paying far too little attention to the practices of his partners. |
| 349 |
And when she got there, she found him waiting for her, pacing up and down outside the hotel, as though he couldn't wait another moment. The cab slowed as they got there, and the doorman opened the door for her. And as she stepped out, Sam looked into her eyes, and she knew that Brock was right. They loved each other. |
| 350 |
It was that simple. Sam had forgotten the rules for a while but she never had. For better or worse... it was all still there, in spite of all the pain and the heartbreak he had caused her. She wanted to tell Brock he was wrong. She wanted to be bigger than that, to be different, or modern, or very strong. |
| 351 |
But she wasn't sure if they were more than that now. There was no way to tell about the future. She stood next to him in the elevator, wondering what would happen now, how they would put all the pieces back together and try to forget what had happened, what they would say to Annabelle, and what she would tell Brock. |
| 352 |
He was packing that morning. They had said good bye the night before, although neither of them knew it when it happened. And all her worries seemed to fade as they got out on the eighth floor and Sam turned to look at her. He took out his key and held it for a long moment, looking at her, as she smiled at him. |
| 353 |
They had taught each other so much. So many hard lessons. And Brock had been right, in spite of all of it, Sam was still her husband. He took the key and turned it in the lock, and gently pushed open the door, and left it standing, as he swept her into his arms, and carried her across the threshold. |
| 354 |
There was a vibrancy to him, an energy, a driving force. He was like a shooting star, trapped in the body and soul of one man, always pushing forward, skyrocketing toward unseen goals. He had vision and brilliance and excitement like no one else. She had seen it from the moment they met. Had always known it. |
| 355 |
And around him, he had created an extraordinary world. He was a visionary who had created an industry, an empire. He had expanded the world. And in doing so, he had stretched horizons beyond what anyone had imagined would be there. He was driven to build, to break barriers, to constantly go farther than he had before. |
| 356 |
All that mattered to Joe, other than Kate, were his planes. They were, and always had been, an integral part of him. He needed them, and what they meant to him, in some ways more than he needed her. She knew that, and accepted it. Like his soul or his eyes, she had come to love his planes as part of him. |
| 357 |
It was already dark when the call came at six o'clock, and she was startled by how late it was. When she glanced at her watch at the sound of the phone, she smiled, knowing it would be Joe. She looked much the same as she always had, as she pushed back a lock of dark red hair, and reached for the phone. |
| 358 |
She knew she would be met instantly by the deep velvet of the familiar voice, anxious to tell her about his day."Hello?" she said, anticipating his voice, as she noticed how hard it was still snowing outside. It was a perfect winter wonderland, and would make for a lovely Christmas when the children came home. |
| 359 |
She felt disappointed for a moment, but only because she had expected to hear him. He would call eventually. He always did. There was a strange, long pause, almost as though the vaguely familiar voice on the other end expected her to know why he had called. He was a new assistant but Kate had spoken to him before. |
| 360 |
There always seemed to be one more."He flew to Albuquerque this afternoon," the voice said, and suddenly all Kate could hear in the room was the sound of a clock ticking. She realized breathlessly that it was the same sound she had heard more than forty years before when her mother came to tell her about her father. |
| 361 |
And yet she had always known it could happen. But neither of them had ever really believed it would. He was too young for this to happen to him. And she was far too young to be his widow. And yet there had been so many others like her in his life, wives of pilots who lost their men testing his planes. |
| 362 |
And without another word, she hung up. There was nothing left to say to him, nothing she had to say, or could. She stared out at the snow, seeing Joe. It was as though he were standing right in front of her, just as he had always been. She could still see him the way he had looked the night they met, so long ago. |
| 363 |
This was the moment she had looked forward to for her entire lifetime; she was being officially presented to society for the first time. She looked like a porcelain doll as she stood on the reception line with her parents, and a crier announced each guest's name as they entered in their evening gowns and tails. |
| 364 |
As she was introduced to the guests by her parents, she met their eyes squarely, and dazzled them with her smile. There was something about the way she looked, and even the shape of her mouth that suggested she was about to say something funny, something important, something that you would want to hear, and remember. |
| 365 |
She had been born to them late in life, after twenty years of marriage, and when she was a baby, her father liked to say that she had been well worth waiting for, and her mother readily agreed. They adored her. In her earliest years, she had been the center of their world. Kate's early years were easy and free. |
| 366 |
Three of his most important clients and best friends shot themselves within months of losing their fortunes, and it took another two years for John to give way to despair himself. Kate scarcely saw him during those two years. He had closeted himself in an upstairs bedroom, seldom saw anyone, and rarely went out. |
| 367 |
As though sensing the maze he was lost in, she instinctively tried to lure him out again, to no avail. Eventually, even she found his door locked to her, and in time her mother forbade her to go upstairs. Elizabeth didn't want her to see her father, drunk, disheveled, unshaven, often sleeping the days away. |
| 368 |
She had been sitting in the nursery drinking a cup of hot chocolate, holding her favorite doll, and when she saw her mother walk into the room, she knew something terrible had happened. All she could see were her mother's eyes, and all she could hear was the suddenly too loud ticking of the nursery clock. |
| 369 |
The man she had so trusted and loved and looked up to, and who had so clearly adored her, had left them, without warning or explanation or any reason that Kate could fathom. All she knew and could understand was that he was gone, and in all the profound ways that truly mattered, her life was forever changed. |
| 370 |
They were well suited, shared similar interests, and Clarke was not only a good husband to her, but a wonderful father to Kate. Clarke adored Kate, and she him. He worshiped her, protected her, and although they never talked about him, he spent all the ensuing years trying to make up to her for the father she had lost. |
| 371 |
There was nothing he denied her, and he was always there for her in every imaginable way. Eventually, all her friends seemed to forget he wasn't her father, and in time, so did Kate. She thought of her own father quietly sometimes, in rare, solemn moments, but he seemed so far away now that she scarcely remembered him. |
| 372 |
All she remembered now, when she allowed herself to, was the sense of terror and abandonment she had felt when he died. But she seldom, if ever, allowed herself to think of it. The door to that part of her was closed, and she preferred it that way. It wasn't Kate's nature to dwell on the past, or cling to sadness. |
| 373 |
She was the sort of person who always seemed to be propelled toward joy, and created it for others wherever she went. The sound of her laughter, and spark of excitement in her eyes, created an aura of joy wherever she went, much to Clarke's delight. They never spoke of the fact that Clarke had adopted her. |
| 374 |
And certainly in the eyes of the world as well. Kate's mother Elizabeth was a happy woman. She had everything she wanted in life, a husband she loved, and a daughter she adored. Kate had appeared in her parents' lives, just after Elizabeth's fortieth birthday. It had been the greatest joy of her life. |
| 375 |
At seventeen, Kate had been to Europe with them every summer, and they had taken her to Singapore and Hong Kong with them the year before. She had been exposed to far more than most girls her age, and as she glided among the guests seeming more like an adult than a young girl, she was enormously composed. |
| 376 |
It was entirely different from the gowns the other girls were wearing. Most of them were wearing ball gowns in pastel or bright colors. No one else had worn white, of course, in deference to the guest of honor. And they all looked lovely. But Kate looked more than that, she was elegant and striking. |
| 377 |
They sparkled as they danced in and out of her long dark red hair. She wore almost no makeup, just a little powder. Her dress was the color of an icy winter sky, and her skin had the color and softness of the palest creamy rose. Her lips were bright red and caught your eye as she constantly laughed and smiled. |
| 378 |
Kate drifted with the others from the reception rooms to the ballroom. She chatted with the young girls she knew, and was introduced to dozens of young men. She seemed perfectly at ease talking to either women or men, and there seemed to be a score of the latter trailing behind her every step of the way. |
| 379 |
They found her stories amusing, her style exciting, and when the dancing started, they cut in on each other constantly. She never seemed to finish a dance with the same man she had started out with. It was a glittering evening, and she was having great fun. And as always, the attention she got didn't go to her head. |
| 380 |
Kate was standing at the buffet when she first saw him, she had been chatting with a young woman who had started Wellesley that year and was telling her all about it. She had been listening intently, when she looked up and found herself staring at him. She didn't know why, but there was something mesmerizing about him. |
| 381 |
He was only inches from her finally, as he held a half full plate, and he sensed her watching him. Looking down at her from his great height, with a serious air, their eyes met. He stopped moving for a minute, as they watched each other, and when she smiled at him, he almost forgot he was holding the plate. |
| 382 |
He found he couldn't move at all, he was riveted to where he stood, and in an instant he looked at her again. "That doesn't seem like enough dinner for a man your size," she said, smiling at him. She wasn't shy, and he liked that. He had found it difficult to speak to people ever since he'd been a boy. |
| 383 |
And as an adult, he was a man of few words. "I had dinner before I came," he explained. He had stayed away from the caviar table, had avoided the vast variety of oysters that had been brought in for the occasion, and had been satisfied with the two lamb chops, a roll and butter, and a few shrimp. It was enough for him. |
| 384 |
It was an article of clothing he had never needed in his wardrobe, and he did not expect to wear it again. He had borrowed it from a friend. He had done his best to get out of coming by saying that he didn't have a set of tails. And then had felt obligated to come when his friend had gotten them for him. |
| 385 |
They were the same as hers, they were a dark almost sapphire blue. "And so are you," he said unexpectedly. There was something so direct about the compliment he had paid her, and the way he looked, that it meant more to her than all the elegant words of the dozens of young men who had been paying court to her. |
| 386 |
If anything, this evening was one of the few things that had frightened him. He would rather have risked his life, which he did often, than tackle a group like this. He had been there for less than an hour when he met her, and the party had already worn thin for him, and he was hoping to leave soon. |
| 387 |
As she nodded, he handed one to her. She took very little, some vegetables, and a small piece of chicken. She wasn't hungry, she'd been too excited all night to eat. Without saying a word, he carried her plate for her, and they walked to one of the tables where the others were dining, and found two seats. |
| 388 |
He wasn't sure if it was the way she spoke, or the way she looked at him. She looked calm and intelligent, and interested in what he was saying. He wasn't comfortable with people paying such close attention to him. And beyond her obvious intelligence and poise, she was exquisite looking. He loved just looking at her. |
| 389 |
He just wasn't as well known to the public or as openly acclaimed. But Joe had been breaking records consistently in recent years, and some flying buffs thought that Joe was an even better pilot. Lindbergh had said it himself once, it had been the high point of Joe's life until that moment, and even since then. |
| 390 |
The entire world, as they knew it, would be profoundly challenged, and ultimately changed. "Do you really think we'll enter the war?" she asked, looking worried, forgetting their surroundings for an instant, and thinking of far more serious matters. The war had already spread in Europe to a frightening degree. |
| 391 |
She felt as if he was dismissing her, and she wondered if she had offended him by asking him to dance. "Hell, no," he said laughing, and then looked even more embarrassed by what he'd said. He was far more used to airplane hangars than to ballrooms, but all things considered, he was actually having a good time. |
| 392 |
He knew his mentor didn't like parties any better than he did, he was probably hiding somewhere, and it was hard to find anyone in the crowd. There were still at least five hundred people there, wandering between the house and the heated tent outside. And then, after saying goodnight to her mother, Joe turned to Kate. |
| 393 |
Clarke seemed to know them all. As they got in the car, Kate stared out the window, thinking of the time she had spent talking to him. The records he had broken had meant nothing to her although she admired him for it, and realized that he was important and accomplished in the rarefied atmosphere in which he lived. |
| 394 |
His power, his strength, his gentleness, even his awkwardness had touched her in a way no one else ever had. She knew at that very moment, without question, that he had taken some part of her with him, and what was troubling her as she looked out the window, was that she had no idea if she'd ever see him again. |
| 395 |
It was a summer of tennis and parties, and long walks on the beach with friends. Kate swam in the ocean every day, and met a very nice boy who was going to Dartmouth in the fall, and another who was going into his junior year at Yale. They were all healthy young people, with bright minds and good values. |
| 396 |
And a large group of them played everything from golf to croquet and badminton on the beach, and more often than not the boys played touch football while the girls watched. It was a long, easy summer, and the only dark shadows were provided by the news from Europe, which was more worrisome every day. |
| 397 |
At eighteen, she already felt like an old maid. In a year, most of them would have babies, and even more of her friends would be married. But she agreed with her father, she wanted to go to college, although she hadn't decided what to major in yet. If the world had been different, she would have liked to study law. |
| 398 |
But it was too great a sacrifice to make. She knew that if she chose a law career, it was unlikely that she would ever be able to marry. It was a choice one had to make, and law as a career was not a woman's world. She was going to study something like literature or history, with a minor in Italian or French. |
| 399 |
If nothing else, she could always teach one day. But other than law, there were no careers that particularly fascinated her. And both her parents assumed that she would get married when she finished school. College would just be something interesting for her to do while she waited for the right man. |
| 400 |
She was standing in a group of her cohorts, toasting marsh mallows and hot dogs, when she took a step back from the flames, and backed into someone she hadn't seen. She turned to apologize for stepping on their feet, although she knew it couldn't have hurt much. She was wearing shorts and bare feet. |
| 401 |
Unlike Kate, who had just thought him a nice person, and had had no idea what a hero he was. They finished their hot dogs, and sat down on a log to drink coffee and eat ice cream. It was being served in cones, and Kate was dripping hers all over, while Joe sat back and watched her as he sipped his coffee. |
| 402 |
The women he had known over the years had been so much plainer and more subdued. She was like a bright shining star in the heavens, and he couldn't take his eyes off her, for fear he'd lose sight of her. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked finally, when she'd cleaned up the mess from her ice cream. |
| 403 |
He had thought of her once or twice when he flew night flights, and couldn't help musing how nice it would have been to have her with him. And then he told himself he was crazy. She was just a kid, and if he ever saw her again, she probably wouldn't even remember him. But she had, and they felt like old friends. |
| 404 |
He was twelve years older than she, she was from a wealthy family, one of considerable stature, and she was going to Radcliffe. He didn't belong in her world, and he knew it. But it wasn't her world that drew him to her, it was who she was, and how at ease he felt with her. He had never known any woman like her. |
| 405 |
There had only been one woman he had seriously cared about, and she had married someone else, because she said, she was lonely all the time, he had no time to spend with her. He couldn't imagine Kate being lonely, she was too full of life and too self sufficient, it was that which attracted him to her. |
| 406 |
And she was just eighteen. She seemed to have a lifetime ahead of her for marriage and babies. It was odd to hear her talk of it, like a career path she had chosen, rather than an inevitable outcome of what she felt for someone. He wondered if that was the way her parents saw it. It was certainly not uncommon. |
| 407 |
But she didn't look like one as she lay there, she was very much a woman. He looked away from her for a long moment, to regain his composure. Kate didn't have the remotest inkling of what was in his mind. "I think I'd like being in the circus," she said to the back of his head, as he observed the night sky. |
| 408 |
She could imagine him as a serious little boy, overwhelmed by all the action. And the clowns had always seemed too obvious to her too. She preferred greater subtlety, as did he. As different as they were, they had a number of things in common. And always, just under the surface, that irresistible magnetic pull. |
| 409 |
He wondered if that trait was peculiar to pilots. He had taken several long flights with Charles, when they had literally not said a word to each other, and were comfortable with it. They had only spoken, finally, once they had landed and opened the door to the cockpit. It had been a perfect flight for both of them. |
| 410 |
I hated my parents' house at times when I was a kid, because it was so quiet. They were older and pretty sedate, and I had no one to talk to. And it was as though they always expected me to be a grown up, just shorter. I wanted to be a kid, and get dirty and make noise and break things and mess up my hair. |
| 411 |
He hadn't been happy till he left. They were always telling him what was wrong with him, how much trouble he was, and threatening to send him to other cousins. He hadn't gotten attached to anyone, he had always been too afraid that they'd send him away anyway, so there was no point caring too much about them. |
| 412 |
He not only wanted, but needed his freedom, for his survival. It was something he knew he would never give up, for anyone, or anything. "Maybe it was easier for me, not having parents." He told her then about his parents dying in a car wreck when he was six months old, and going to live with his cousins. |
| 413 |
All she wanted was just a little more leeway than they gave her. She didn't have the same need for freedom he did. "Do you want to have kids one day?" she asked him, wondering how that fit into the scheme of things for him, or if it was unimportant. He was old enough to have at least thought about it. |
| 414 |
They had that in common. They spoke their minds and their hearts, with no fear of what other people would think of them. It was rare for him to open up, as he did with her, but he had nothing to hide and nothing to apologize for to her. He had left no debris in his wake, and had never hurt anyone, that he knew of. |
| 415 |
He was on his own in the world, and always had been. He had no one to answer to, or to please, but himself. Her life was entirely different. She carried the burdens of all her parents' hopes and dreams on her shoulders, and she would never have done anything to hurt or disappoint them. She couldn't do that to them. |
| 416 |
There was no artifice and no pretense, and as different as they were, and their lives had been, they were powerfully attracted to each other. They were like the opposite sides of the same coin. Joe was the first to speak, as he turned to look at her again, lying peacefully on the sand, staring up at the moon. |
| 417 |
She was surprised at how far they had walked, but it had been easy beside him. And halfway there, she slipped a hand into his arm, and he pressed his arm closer to his side, and smiled down at her. She would have made a great friend, except that, much to his chagrin, he wanted more than that from her. |
| 418 |
He was in no position to do that. And in his eyes, she deserved better than he had to give. With all her ease and beauty, she seemed far out of his reach. It took them half an hour to get back to the party, and they were both surprised to find that no one had missed them, or even noticed they were gone. |
| 419 |
There was something he wanted to ask her, he'd been thinking about it all evening. He wasn't sure if it was appropriate, or if she'd have time once she started Radcliffe. But he had decided to ask her anyway, he had already told himself that it would be safe for both of them, which was something of a delusion. |
| 420 |
He could never find the right words anyway. A few minutes later, she walked over the dunes to meet her parents, and disappeared from sight as he watched her go. She stopped at the top, and waved at him, as he waved back. Her last sight of him was standing tall, his eyes fixed on hers, with a serious expression. |
| 421 |
She had books to buy, and classes to attend, professors to meet, an advisor to work out her schedule with, and a house full of girls to get acquainted with. It was a huge adjustment for her, but within days, she knew she loved it. She didn't even bother to go home on the weekends, much to her mother's dismay. |
| 422 |
And by the time she sat down at her desk, on a Sunday afternoon, she had plenty of stories about school. She told him about the other girls, her professors, her classes, the food. She had never been as happy in her life as she was at Radcliffe. It was her first taste of freedom, and she was loving it. |
| 423 |
But he was fun to be with, and he was captain of the Harvard swimming team, which impressed the other freshman girls. Instead, she told Joe everything she was doing, and how happy she was there. Her letter, when he received it, was excited and exuberant and ebullient, all the things he loved most about her. |
| 424 |
And he sat down immediately when he got the letter, and answered her, telling her about his latest designs, and his latest victory over a previously insoluble problem. He told her of his most recent test flights. But he avoided telling her of a boy who had died the day before, in a test flight over Nevada. |
| 425 |
And nothing in her letter indicated that she had anything but feelings of friendship for him. She said nothing to give herself away, and she painted a number of amusing portraits for him, with clever words. He sat at his desk laughing out loud when he read her letter. Her description of college life was hilarious. |
| 426 |
And then he attempted, at least, to amuse her as she did him. He was beginning to spend his days anticipating her letters, and anxious for them to come. It was two months later, the Tuesday before the Thanksgiving weekend, when she got a phone call in the house she lived in on campus, and assumed it was her parents. |
| 427 |
But her mother wasn't entirely taken in, she knew her better, although she'd never seen her daughter look quite like that. But at fifty eight, she hadn't entirely forgotten what it felt like to be wooed by an older man when you were young, or to be smitten. But something about Joe Allbright worried her. |
| 428 |
He was so remote and so aloof, and at the same time so intense. He was the kind of man who, if he turned his full attention on you, could be overwhelming. And even if Kate didn't understand that, because she had no experience with it, her mother did, and that was precisely why she was worried about him. |
| 429 |
Elizabeth looked anything but reassured as she saw the looks of ease and admiration that passed between them, and she very definitely had the impression that they knew each other better than either of them was admitting. They seemed unusually comfortable with each other as they chatted side by side. |
| 430 |
It was obvious that she and Joe were friends, and equally so that they were attracted to each other. But Elizabeth also had to admit, to herself at least, that he was intelligent, well mannered, and charming, and he treated Kate with kindness and respect. But there was something about him that frightened her mother. |
| 431 |
And when Joe spoke of flying, it was with such passion, that Elizabeth couldn't help wondering if his love for flying was something any woman could compete with. She was willing to believe he was a good man, but not necessarily the right one for Kate. Liz didn't think Joe had the makings of a good husband. |
| 432 |
What Liz was not sure of was what Joe felt for her. Attraction certainly, and a kind of magnetic pull that he was having trouble resisting, but what lay beyond that, no one knew, not even Joe at this point. Elizabeth felt certain that whatever he felt for Kate, he was trying to resist, but without success. |
| 433 |
And a very romantic figure. I think he's every bit as intrigued by her as she is with him, but there's something about him that seems wounded. He doesn't like to talk about his family, and his parents died when he was a baby. God only knows what happened to him as a child, and what scars lie too deep to be seen. |
| 434 |
Kate and Joe were sitting in a corner, deep in conversation, and as her mother looked at them, she knew without a question. They were oblivious to everyone else in the room, and he looked as though he would have died for her, and she for him. It was already too late. All Elizabeth could do now was pray. |
| 435 |
Her mother wished her goodnight then, and Kate walked back to her own room, looking thoughtful. She had a lot to think about, mostly to figure out how she felt about Joe. Or maybe it wasn't important since he hadn't said anything to her to indicate that he had anything other than friendly feelings toward her. |
| 436 |
There had been no overt suggestion of romance, just the enormous pull they felt toward each other. She felt drawn to him like a magnet, but she was convinced that all he wanted was to be friends. The next morning when Kate was on her way to the kitchen to get something to eat, she heard the phone ring in the hall. |
| 437 |
An hour later, she was waiting outside the house in a duffel coat, a knit cap, and a scarf she wore at school, when Joe came by to pick her up in a cab. "You look cute," he said with a smile. She was wearing loafers and wool socks, and a kilt and cashmere sweater she'd had for years. And of course, a string of pearls. |
| 438 |
It hadn't even occurred to her that he would take her to see his plane. She didn't ask anything, and they chatted easily on the way He told her how much he had enjoyed the past two days, and wanted to do something special for her. And she knew that in his eyes, showing her his plane was the best thing he could do. |
| 439 |
He absolutely loved it, and his heart glowed as he saw the intent look in her eyes as she devoured every word and the most minute details. It was an hour later when he turned to her, and asked if she would like to go up with him for a few minutes, just to see how the plane felt once it was off the ground. |
| 440 |
It was like a dream. "I hope not. I think we'll save that for next time," he said as they gained altitude. Joe and Kate chatted comfortably over the sound of the engine for the first few minutes, and then they settled into an easy silence, as she looked around her with awe, and silently watched him. |
| 441 |
It was as though he had been born to do this, and she felt sure that there was no other man alive who could do it better, not even Charles Lindbergh. If she had been drawn to Joe before, he became irresistible from the first moment she saw him fly. It would have been impossible for her not to feel that way. |
| 442 |
There was no one else in the world like him. His skill alone set him apart from all others, and the style with which he did it only made him that much more appealing to her. What she had just seen was precisely what had impressed Charles Lindbergh about Joe when they met when he was barely more than a boy. |
| 443 |
It had been the perfect way for her to get to know him. And once in the restaurant, Joe seemed quiet and somewhat reserved again. He truly was like a bird, one minute soaring effortlessly through the sky, and the next moment waddling awkwardly on land. Once out of his airplane, he was like a different man. |
| 444 |
He just wanted to be with her, and bask in the light she radiated and the warmth she exuded. Sometimes it made him feel like a lizard on a rock, soaking up the sunshine, as he sat next to her. She made him feel happy and warm and comfortable. But even those feelings seemed dangerous to him at times. |
| 445 |
She was an eighteen year old girl, and he was thirty, no matter how much he had liked flying with her. In spite of all his resistance, and the walls he'd built up over the years, the time they had spent in his airplane that morning had been magical for both of them. The last day they shared passed all too quickly. |
| 446 |
And Joe had a lot to do too. For the first few months at least, he doubted if he'd have time to come to Boston. And he hesitated to ask her to come to see him. Asking her to visit him seemed a little too forward, and he didn't think her parents would approve. She seemed quieter than usual when he said goodbye to her. |
| 447 |
He hadn't indicated anything other than that, and he didn't now. Sometimes he was almost fatherly to her. And yet, there was always an undercurrent of something deeper and more mysterious between them. She was not sure if she was imagining it, or if there was something else there that they were both afraid of. |
| 448 |
It was as though he had to get away from her before he did something he knew he shouldn't. She smiled as she walked through the front door, and closed it quietly behind her. It had been an odd three days with him, they had been times of warmth and ease and friendship. And the wonder of flying with him. |
| 449 |
She told herself, as she walked slowly up the stairs, that she was glad she had met him. One day she would tell her children about him. And there was no doubt in her mind that when she did, they would not be his children. His life was already full, with airplanes and flying and test flights and engines. |
| 450 |
And she told herself that whatever she felt for him, or imagined that he felt for her, was only an illusion. It was nothing more than a dream. On Sunday, before Kate left to go back to school, her mother said nothing about him. She had decided to take her husband's advice and wait to see what happened. |
| 451 |
In her eyes, it was like having a crush on the governor, or the president, or some lofty person who would forever be just out of reach for her. The only difference was that she and Joe were friends, and she enjoyed his company so much, it was hard not to get too caught up in the pleasure of being with him. |
| 452 |
Kate was sure that something terrible had happened to her, some awful news from home, maybe one of her parents had died. She was saying something unintelligible as Kate continued to listen to her mother. Liz had a long list of questions about cakes and hors d'oeuvres, and the exact dimensions of the dance floor. |
| 453 |
Kate quickly got off the phone, and hurried back to her room to see what people were saying about the news. They all sat quietly, tears pouring down their faces as they listened to the news on the radio. One of the girls in her house was from Hawaii, and she knew that there were two Japanese girls in an upstairs room. |
| 454 |
It was unthinkable, and easy to believe that within a very short time the nation's young men would be sent far, far from home to fight this war. And only God knew how many of them would survive. All the Jamisons could think of when they heard the news was that they were grateful they didn't have a son. |
| 455 |
Bomb shelters were being built, medical personnel were being organized. There was a general state of controlled panic. Even in Boston, people were frightened. Kate's parents asked her to come home, and she said she would the next day, but she wanted to wait and see what they were telling them at school. |
| 456 |
A nation of men were about to be sent away to war. "I could meet you in Washington to say goodbye," she volunteered, realizing that she no longer cared what her parents would think. If he was leaving, she wanted to see him. It was all she could think of as she listened to him, and tried to fight back panic. |
| 457 |
It was devastating for everyone, and a number of Kate's friends were already married and starting families. Everyone's lives were about to be disrupted, not just hers or Joe's and people she knew, but the lives of an entire nation. There was no hiding from the fact that many of them were not going to be returning. |
| 458 |
All the girls bade each other a tearful goodbye, as they left one by one to return to their homes in assorted places, and some had a long way to travel. The girl from Hawaii was going home with a friend from California, but her parents didn't want her to return to Honolulu, in case the Japanese attacked again. |
| 459 |
The thought of it terrified her, particularly when she realized that once the Germans knew he had joined the Allied war effort, they'd be gunning for him. With his reputation as a flying ace, he was just the kind of pilot they wanted to eliminate, and she knew they would do everything they could to shoot him down. |
| 460 |
It was obviously going to be impossible for him to call her. But they still had two days, or as much of it as he could spend with her. They had already both assumed that he would spend as much time with her as possible before he flew to Europe. In a matter of hours, everything between them had changed. |
| 461 |
The pretense of friendship had already begun to slip away, and their relationship had already begun to evolve into something else. As it turned out, he had to pick up uniforms and more papers, and it was the next day before he could leave Washington. He was flying out the following day at six o'clock in the morning. |
| 462 |
Some got married in the little time they had left, others went to hotels to find what comfort they could with each other. Others just sat in train stations, or coffee shops, or on park benches in freezing weather. All they wanted was to share their last moments of freedom and peacetime, and cling to each other. |
| 463 |
But they both knew that normally, when he flew, no one was trying to shoot him down. Despite what he said to quell her fears, this was going to be very different. "What are we going to do today?" he asked, as though it was an ordinary day, and they didn't have to say goodbye to each other in less than nine hours. |
| 464 |
He took her to Locke Ober's for lunch, and despite the elegant room and the fine meal, Kate could hardly eat. All she could think of was not where they were now, but where he was going in a matter of hours. The effort to have a civilized meal was essentially wasted on her. They were back at her house at three o'clock. |
| 465 |
She had no idea if Joe reciprocated her feelings, and it would have been improper to ask. Even she, with all her brave ways, wouldn't have had the courage to do that. She just had to go on what she knew and what she felt, and appreciate that, for whatever reason, he had wanted to spend these last hours with her. |
| 466 |
But she also reminded herself that he had no one else to spend them with. Other than his cousins whom he hadn't seen in years, he had no other relatives, and no girlfriend. The only person who seemed to matter to him was Charles Lindbergh. Other than that, he was alone in the world. And he had wanted to be with her. |
| 467 |
She looked so sad that it touched his heart. He realized more than ever that he'd been lucky to meet her when he did. He almost hadn't gone to the ball with Charles Lindbergh the year before. And the fact that he had had obviously been fate, for both of them. Kate smiled at his question about her canceled party. |
| 468 |
They sat quietly and talked for hours, and after a while, her mother brought them two plates of food. She didn't ask the young people to join them in the kitchen. Clarke thought they should be alone, and in spite of herself, Elizabeth agreed with him. She wanted to make things as easy as possible for both of them. |
| 469 |
They had enough anguish in their lives right then, without adding social burdens to it. And Joe stood and thanked her for the meal she had brought them. But they could barely eat as they sat next to each other, and finally he turned to Kate, and put both their plates on the table, as he took her hand in his. |
| 470 |
Kate was in love with him. "I'll have twenty lives if that's what I need. You can count on it," he reassured her, but they both knew it was a promise he might not be able to keep, which was why he hadn't done anything foolish with her before he left. Joe had no intention of leaving her an eighteen year old widow. |
| 471 |
She deserved a lot better than that, and if he couldn't give it to her, someone else would. He wanted to leave her feeling free to pursue anything she wanted in his absence. But all Kate could think of was Joe. It was too late to save herself. She was already far more attached to him than either of them had planned. |
| 472 |
And he had no idea of the loss she had suffered as a child. Kate had never spoken of her father's suicide to anyone, and as far as Joe knew, the only father Kate had ever had was Clarke. But suddenly, for Kate, this loss reawakened the sorrows of her past, and made his going off to war that much worse for her. |
| 473 |
But it wouldn't be fair of me to extract a promise from you, or expect something from you, or ask you to wait for me. There's always a chance that I might not come back, and I never want you to feel that you owe me something you don't. You owe me nothing. I want you to feel free to do whatever you want while I'm gone. |
| 474 |
Some of them had never left home before. Their last minutes together were excruciatingly painful. Kate was trying to hold back tears unsuccessfully, and even Joe looked tense. It was all so intolerably emotional for both of them. Neither of them had any idea if they would see each other again, or when. |
| 475 |
This wasn't what he'd had in mind when he came to spend the day with her. He had somehow felt that they had a silent pact not to say those kinds of things to each other, but she wasn't sticking to it. She just couldn't. She could not let him go without telling him she loved him. In her opinion, he had a right to know. |
| 476 |
Until then, whatever his feelings for her, or how powerful his attraction to her, he had been able to delude himself that they were just good friends. But now there was no hiding from the fact that they weren't. They were far more than that, no matter how strenuously he tried to pretend it wasn't so. |
| 477 |
She looked him right in the eye as she said it, and he nodded, unable to say the words, despite all that he felt for her. They were words to describe feelings that he had fled for thirty years. He held her close and kissed her again, and then he knew he had to leave her. He had to get on the flight. |
| 478 |
He was stationed in Swinderby. He told her only as much about his doings as the censors would allow. Most of the letter had expressed his concern for her, and told her about the people he'd met there. He described the countryside, and how kind the English were being to them. But he didn't tell her he loved her. |
| 479 |
And his passion for the planes he designed and flew, and the world that opened to him, was a way for him to escape life. She wasn't at all sure that, even if he survived the war, he would ever make Kate happy. What she also felt was their unspoken bond, and the deep almost mesmeric fascination they had for each other. |
| 480 |
But what Kate's mother sensed but could never explain was that in some inexplicable way, they were dangerous for each other. She didn't even know why she was frightened by Kate loving him, but she was. The date of Kate's canceled deb party came and went, and she wasn't really sorry it had been canceled. |
| 481 |
Almost every boy she knew was leaving for boot camp by then, had already left or was getting ready to ship out. But Andy had already explained to her several weeks before that he had had a heart murmur ever since his childhood. It didn't hamper him in any way, but even in wartime, it made him ineligible for the army. |
| 482 |
He told Kate he wanted to wear a sign, explaining to people why he wasn't in uniform, and why he was still at home. He felt like a traitor being at home with the women. He was still very upset about it when he called her, and they talked for a while. He wanted to take her out to dinner, but she felt odd going now. |
| 483 |
She told Andy why and said she couldn't. And he tried to negotiate her into a movie anyway. But she wasn't in the mood. They had never been more than pals, but she knew from mutual friends that he was crazy about her. And he'd been trying to start something with her since she'd arrived at Radcliffe in the fall. |
| 484 |
Other than Kate refusing to go out with him, Andy had an active social life. He was tall, dark, and handsome, and one of the few eligible men left on campus and not going off to war. Girls were practically lining up to go out with him, and he could have had just about anyone, except the one girl he wanted. |
| 485 |
She knew that, as well known as he was, and because of his association with Charles Lindbergh, she would read about it before anyone would have a chance to warn her. But so far, in his letters, he seemed to be in good spirits and well. He had complained bitterly about the cold and the bad food all winter in England. |
| 486 |
Andy was doing volunteer work in a military hospital that summer. He wanted to do something to make up for the fact that he hadn't been able to go to war with the rest of the able bodied young men. And when he called Kate, he told her horror stories of the wounded men he saw, and the experiences they shared with him. |
| 487 |
He wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, except maybe Kate, but as he listened to them, there were moments when he was actually glad he hadn't been able to go to war. Most of the men they saw had been in Europe, the ones who were wounded in the Pacific went to hospitals on the West Coast to recuperate. |
| 488 |
But many of the girls she knew were there, and on Labor Day, their neighbors gave the same barbecue they always did. Kate went next door with her parents. She hadn't heard from Joe for nearly a week by then. The letters she received had always been written weeks before and sometimes arrived in batches. |
| 489 |
He had completed his undergraduate work in three years instead of four. Since he couldn't go to war, he was anxious to start working. It seemed like the right decision for him, particularly since his father was the head of New York's most prestigious law firm, and they were waiting for him with open arms. |
| 490 |
All she could do was think how lucky she was to see him. And he looked every bit as happy as she did. He couldn't keep his hands off her as they stood pressed closely together. He stroked her hair, and kept her close to him, and every few minutes, he kissed her, and held her tight. Neither of them cared who saw them. |
| 491 |
Her father spotted them a few minutes later. At first, he couldn't imagine who the tall blond man was standing with Kate, and then he saw him kiss her, and realized it was Joe, as he hurried toward them across the sand. He gave Joe an enormous hug, and then stood beaming at him as he patted his shoulder. |
| 492 |
He was a happy man, and Kate looked like an ecstatically happy woman. She couldn't believe what had just happened to her. It was a reprieve from the long agonizing months of waiting for him and praying for his safety. Two weeks seemed like a miracle to both of them. All she wanted to do was look at him and hold him. |
| 493 |
And if anything ever happened to him, she didn't want Kate to feel that they had done whatever they could to keep her and Joe apart. It seemed better for all concerned to be magnanimous about it, as long as Kate didn't do anything foolish. Her mother was planning to talk to her about it, now that she saw them together. |
| 494 |
She hated the fact that she had to go back to school while he was there, but her parents insisted that she couldn't start late. She would just have to make the best of the time they had. The only concession they made was that she could stay at the house with Joe and them, as long as she went to classes every day. |
| 495 |
There had always been something very paternal and protective about Joe, which was part of why she felt so comfortable with him. There were a million reasons why she did, and when he left her to drive back late that night, he held her for a long moment and told her how much he had missed her and how much he loved her. |
| 496 |
Even her mother was impressed by how he behaved. The only thing he hadn't done, which would have pleased them more, was ask for her hand in marriage. Her father skirted the subject delicately one afternoon when he came home early from the office, and found Joe in the kitchen sketching designs for a new airplane. |
| 497 |
And what he was doing with Ford was valuable and important to the war effort. But nonetheless the public and the press remained critical of him, due to the political positions he'd taken before the war. Like the rest of the country, Clarke had been disappointed by his statements on behalf of America First. |
| 498 |
Joe had never let him down so far. He was just a little slow moving, slower than Kate's mother would have liked, but Kate didn't seem to mind, and Clarke had to respect that. Whatever their feelings for each other, they seemed to be moving toward what they wanted, and had a keen sense of each other. |
| 499 |
She was a very young girl. And at nineteen, he was the first man she had ever been in love with, and hopefully the last, if her mother got what she wanted from him. She had told Clarke the night before that she thought they should get engaged. It would at least clarify his intentions and show some respect for Kate. |
| 500 |
All he could do was concentrate on what he was doing, and the importance of shooting down the enemy. The rest was unimportant to him. Even Kate, at those particular moments. She was a luxury he could allow himself after the important things were accomplished. It was how he thought about his life actually. |
| 501 |
Kate and I hardly know each other, and for another, all I can think about right now is killing Germans. Afterward, when the war is over, we can figure out what color linoleum we want, and if we need drapes. Right now, we don't even have the house yet. I don't think either of us is ready to make big decisions. |
| 502 |
And he hadn't said he wouldn't, but he had admitted that he wasn't ready. Maybe it was better that he was honest about it. Clarke thought that, if Joe had been ready to come forward, Kate would have been thrilled about it. At nineteen, she was more ready to settle down, with Joe at least, than he was at thirty one. |
| 503 |
He had lofty dreams, as long as they were about airplanes, but few if any when it came to everyday life. What he needed to do, after the war, in Clarke's opinion, was concentrate more on what was happening on the ground, instead of looking up at the sky all the time. In some ways, Joe Allbright was a dreamer. |
| 504 |
But none of it was something they'd have wished for her. What they hoped for was a husband for Kate, who loved her, wanted to be with her, and had a solid, settled life. Clarke was beginning to think that Joe might always be a little bit eccentric. He was brilliant enough to excuse being a little odd. |
| 505 |
But her mother didn't feel that her future was by any means secure. Joe was like a wild proud bird, and a totally free spirit. And as far as Liz was concerned, there was no predicting what he was going to do when he came back. She was not as sure as Clarke that he could be counted on to marry their daughter. |
| 506 |
He had always been blown by the wind to the most appealing airstrip. But she didn't want to question him about it. Her father had done enough for one afternoon, and she was really annoyed at him, in spite of Joe's good nature. She was glad that he hadn't been upset by it, and saw no point to the conversation. |
| 507 |
She went to school every day, and afterward he came to meet her. They spent hours talking and walking, sitting under trees and talking about life and all the things that mattered to them. In Joe's case, most of the time it was airplanes. But there were other things too, people, and places, and things he wanted to do. |
| 508 |
As the days went by, it became an ever greater challenge, but they behaved admirably. Just as he didn't want to leave her widowed, if he died, he also didn't want to leave her pregnant when he went back to the war. And if they married one day, he wanted it to be because they chose to, not because they had to. |
| 509 |
And she agreed with him, although some part of her almost wished that if something happened to him, she would have his baby. But all they could do now was trust the future. There were no promises, no guarantees, no sure things. There were only their hopes and dreams and the time they had spent together. |
| 510 |
They were different, but so perfectly matched Kate was convinced they had been born for each other, and Joe didn't disagree. He was still awkward at times, still shy, still quiet now and then, lost in his own thoughts, but she was able to understand that, and she found all his little quirks and mannerisms endearing. |
| 511 |
He was truly a hero. The ceremony had been a strange mixture of happiness and sadness for Kate, as she realized how easily he could have been killed. Everything about life these days seemed bittersweet. Every day that he lived was a gift, and nearly every day she heard about boys who had died in Europe or the Pacific. |
| 512 |
And yet, the people Joe knew there were very brave. Washington looked like a fairyland to him, and to Kate. After dinner, they walked back to their hotel, and chatted in the living room they provided in the lobby. They sat there for hours because they didn't want to leave each other and go to their rooms. |
| 513 |
But in the end, they were both so cold sitting in the lobby, he suggested they sit in his room. He promised to behave, and by then Kate's hands were so cold she could hardly move them, and her teeth were chattering. And outside, it was snowing and bitter cold. They walked up the narrow staircase to their rooms. |
| 514 |
It was a tiny hotel, and the room rate was dirt cheap for military personnel, which was why they had booked a room for him there. Kate's room was only slightly more expensive. The rooms themselves were simply decorated and tiny, but for two days neither of them cared. All they wanted was to see each other. |
| 515 |
There was a bed and a chair in each room, a dresser and a sink, and there was a shower and a toilet in what must have once been a closet. The only place to hang clothes was on the back of the door, but Kate was grateful to have her own bathroom. Once they got to his room, Joe sat on the bed and she took the chair. |
| 516 |
She knew they were tempting fate, but she also knew that they could trust each other. They weren't going to do anything foolish just because they were sitting on a bed in a hotel room. And without hesitation, she came to sit beside him, and they went on talking. She only had half a glass of champagne, and Joe had two. |
| 517 |
She wanted to feel his skin, and to nuzzle him. She couldn't get enough of him, and he knew he couldn't restrain himself much longer. "What are you doing?" he whispered as she opened his jacket, and he started unbuttoning her blouse. Within seconds, he had her breasts in his hands, and leaned down to kiss them. |
| 518 |
He might never come back to her again, and now she wanted to have this with him. He kissed her again in answer to what she had said to him, and he gently peeled the rest of her clothes away, and took his own off, and a moment later they were lying on the bed, their clothes in a heap on the floor beside them. |
| 519 |
It was Joe who moved first, as he rolled over carefully on his side, and looked at her more tenderly than he ever had any woman. Kate had opened doors in him he never knew were there. "I love you, Kate," he whispered into her hair, and traced a lazy finger down her side, and then covered her gently with the blanket. |
| 520 |
But in the morning, it was Kate who reached for him, and within moments, they found each other, and soared to new heights again. New places had opened in their life together, and new feelings had been born. And when Kate got up and looked at him afterward, she realized that a deeper bond had been formed between them. |
| 521 |
It was as though he sensed that she was truly his, and all he wanted was to protect her. He warned her a thousand times to be careful on the way home, to take care of herself, not to do anything foolish. He wished he could have stayed there with her, but he had to go back to England to fly his missions. |
| 522 |
And when he left her, it was agonizing for both of them. For the first time in his life, he had held nothing back. He had been vulnerable and strong at the same time, and just as she had, he had given himself to her. Not because he had slept with her, but because he had taken responsibility for her. |
| 523 |
She could no longer imagine a life without him, and she truly believed that if he died now, it would kill her. She didn't want to live an hour beyond him. And it reminded her once again of the pain of losing her father, as the train pulled away. Joe awoke feelings of love in her she had never before known. |
| 524 |
It was Christmas Eve, and she knew that he would be on a plane to England before she got home. She wouldn't be back in Boston until late that night, and she knew her parents would be waiting up for her. But she could hardly speak she was so grief stricken when she got off the train and hailed a cab. |
| 525 |
Her mother had given her a beautiful sapphire necklace with matching sapphire earrings, and her father was offering to buy her a two year old car he had seen, in perfect condition, if her driving improved. But with gas rationing she had little opportunity to practice, and Elizabeth didn't think it was a good idea. |
| 526 |
But all she could think about was Joe as she sat silently at Christmas dinner, unable to say a word. She knew he was back in England by then, flying bombing missions again. For the next several weeks, her spirits never lifted. Her mother was seriously worried about her, and even thinking of taking her to a doctor. |
| 527 |
She seemed to have no social life anymore, and Andy called her at home several times, complaining that he hadn't seen her in ages. All she seemed to want to do was sleep and reread Joe's letters. He sounded almost as depressed in England. It had been hard going back again, and the weather had been foul. |
| 528 |
She knew it would ruin everything if she had a baby now. She'd have to leave school, and it would scandalize everyone, and even if they wanted to, they couldn't get married. Joe had told her recently that he had no hope of coming home on leave anytime soon, and she hadn't told him why she had asked. |
| 529 |
Married or not, she would want the baby. Rather than making a decision about it, she was letting time pass, and eventually she knew it would be too late to end it. But she hadn't even begun to think of what she would say to her parents after that, or her embarrassment, when she explained her circumstances to school. |
| 530 |
She had been violently nauseous since early January, and it was nearly the first of March. She had almost decided to go ahead with the pregnancy by then, she knew she couldn't do otherwise, and in truth she wanted it. It was Joe's baby. She was going to wait to tell her parents until she had no other choice. |
| 531 |
Kate insisted she was fine, just studying too hard, but her grades were starting to slip, and all of her professors had noticed that as well. Her life was rapidly turning into a nightmare, and she was terrified of what her parents were going to say, when she told them she was having a baby in September, out of wedlock. |
| 532 |
It meant she wouldn't graduate with her class. But with luck, it would only cost her one semester. And she would have a great reward for it, if they would take her back. She would have to tell them why she was leaving. She wasn't the first woman it had happened to, and she had made her peace with it. |
| 533 |
She looked better than she had in February, and he was trying to convince her to go to a movie with him. She went with him occasionally, more so now that he had given up on her as a potential date, and accepted her as a friend. But she had a paper due the next day, and said that this time she couldn't go with him. |
| 534 |
He had no reason to doubt her, or suspect she might be pregnant. It was the farthest thing from his mind. "I'm glad you're over it. Do your paper so we can go to a movie next week," he said, as he hopped on his bicycle, and waved as he rode off, his dark hair ruffled by the wind, and his brown eyes laughing at her. |
| 535 |
She'd finished the work she had to do, and she had three letters from Joe in one day. They tended to arrive in clumps like that sometimes, it had to do with the way the censors sent them, after they cleared them, to make sure that no one gave away sensitive security secrets, or the locations of their missions. |
| 536 |
He wrote to her about people, and the local countryside, and his feelings for her, all totally safe subjects. She had been planning to go home that weekend, and at the last minute decided against it. She went to a movie with a group of friends, and saw Andy there with a girl Kate knew from one of her classes. |
| 537 |
Everyone was sound asleep by the time Kate woke up again at four o'clock in the morning. She was in agony, and when she rolled over in her bed to try and get more comfortable, she saw that she was bleeding. She tried to keep quiet, in spite of the pain, so she wouldn't wake the other girls sleeping near her. |
| 538 |
Her arm and her hip hurt too, from the encounter with the bicycle, but nothing was as painful as her belly. She could hardly stand. She closed the door to the bathroom as quietly as she could, and turned the light on, and when she looked in the mirror she saw that everything from her waist down was covered in blood. |
| 539 |
But she was afraid that if she called someone, she might get kicked out of school, or they might call her parents. She didn't know what the consequences would be if the administration found out she was pregnant. She assumed she'd be asked to leave. This wasn't the way she had wanted things to happen. |
| 540 |
Her mother was a nurse, and her father a doctor, and she had good experience with first aid. But she had never seen as much blood as the pool rapidly spreading around Kate. She was afraid she'd bleed to death if they didn't call someone to help them. Not getting Kate to the hospital seemed like a big chance to take. |
| 541 |
The bleeding was less out of control, and she was still in pain, but it was tolerable. Diana explained that it was her uterus contracting to stop the bleeding, which was a good thing. The earlier pains had been to expel the baby. And if she didn't bleed too much more, Diana hoped that she would be all right. |
| 542 |
It was a long, lonely day for her, and it was another two days before she felt even halfway human. Diana and Beverly went back to class the next day, and Kate just lay in her bed and cried all day long. It was Wednesday before she got out of bed, and when she did, she looked ghostly and had lost ten pounds. |
| 543 |
And she couldn't help thinking, as she took long solitary walks on the beach that, if she hadn't lost the baby, she'd be eight months pregnant by then. Her parents never found out what had happened. And her mother was still talking about the fact that Joe had still made no promises about a future with her. |
| 544 |
She reminded Kate constantly that she was waiting for a man who had promised her nothing. No marriage. No ring. No future. He just expected her to wait for him, and see what happened when he came home. She was twenty years old, and he was thirty two, old enough to know what he wanted to do when he returned. |
| 545 |
She had the feeling as he held her that he had been through some rough times. He couldn't seem to find the words, but she knew that she not only needed him, but he needed her, as well. The war was taking a toll on everyone, even Joe. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, still in his arms as she closed her eyes. |
| 546 |
It was easy to see how tired he was. He felt as though he was in the air almost constantly these days, and a heartbreaking number of their planes had been shot down. The Germans were getting desperate and hitting hard. He looked at her somberly then, and she realized that he felt awkward with her again. |
| 547 |
But he could share none of that with her, and she didn't ask. Something about the way he looked told her that there was very little he could say. And it was even stranger to realize that if she hadn't lost the baby in March, he would have returned to find he had a one month old child. But he knew nothing of all that. |
| 548 |
She told her she was spending the night at a friend's, so they could study peacefully for exams, and she didn't want her mother to worry if she called. Her mother thought that was sweet of her, and said she appreciated the call. Kate knew it would never even occur to her mother that the story was a lie. |
| 549 |
As they drove to the hotel, they both started to unwind. It was as though they had seen each other just yesterday, and in another sense, she felt as though she hadn't seen him in years. But the odd thing was that after sleeping with him the last time, and then losing their baby, she felt almost married to him. |
| 550 |
Joe and Kate took the elevator upstairs without saying a word, and she was relieved to see when he opened the door that it was a pretty room. She had expected something depressing and small, not that it mattered to them, but there was something a little tawdry about checking into a hotel with a man. |
| 551 |
There was a moment of awkwardness again between them once they got to the room, but as Joe sprawled out on the couch with a nervous look and patted the seat next to him, she smiled as she sat down. "I can't believe you're here," she said with a look in her eyes that told him how much he had been missed. |
| 552 |
Two days before he had been providing fighter escort cover for bombers over Berlin, and they had lost four planes. And now suddenly, he was sitting in a hotel room in Boston with her, and she was prettier than ever. She looked so young and so fresh and so far from the life he had been leading for nearly two years. |
| 553 |
Remarkably, no matter how long they'd been away from each other, the same fire and magic was always there. He kissed her then, without saying another word. It was as though he needed her to comfort him, to soothe the wounds in his soul. He just needed to drink from the peaceful fountain she offered him. |
| 554 |
It was as though she understood exactly what he needed from her. And in turn, when she was with him, no matter how limited the words, she always knew how much she was loved. It was a perfect exchange. A few minutes later, he walked over to the bed with her. He felt a little guilty as they undressed. |
| 555 |
They didn't even need words. He kissed her with gentleness and passion as they lay on the bed, and as he undressed her, he realized how hungry for her he had been. Much to his own surprise, there had been no one else. In the ten months that they'd been apart, he hadn't wanted anyone but her. And Kate only wanted him. |
| 556 |
This had never happened to him before, although it had happened to many of his friends. But he'd never gotten a girl in trouble before, and he'd always been careful, except with her. "I was at school, but two of the girls in my house took care of me," she said discreetly, and spared him the details. |
| 557 |
It had taken months to feel like herself again. She had lost so much blood, it took a long time to get fully back on her feet. But she was fine by then. Joe was amazed too by the thought that if the pregnancy had come to full term, they would have had a one month old child. It was mind boggling to him. |
| 558 |
And he admired her for it, more than she knew. She had handled it all herself, and recovered from it, seemingly with no bitterness toward him. He was grateful for that, and touched by how brave she had been. He could sense by the way she spoke of it, that it had been hard for her, in a number of ways. |
| 559 |
There was nothing she wanted more than to be with him, and have his child, but it hadn't been meant to be, so far at least. And given what was happening in their lives, it seemed to be for the best, even to her, and surely to him. "I'm glad you're being careful now." He had brought prophylactics with him too this time. |
| 560 |
She was just grateful that nothing had happened to Joe. They talked a lot that night, which was unusual for him, but they had so little time, so much pulling at them. They didn't have time to unwind, to warm up, to coast along. They just had to be there, and be all they could, in the little time they had. |
| 561 |
She knew her mother wouldn't have approved of it, but she didn't understand. An engagement ring on her finger wouldn't have changed anything, and it wouldn't have kept him alive. And Joe asked nothing of her, except what Kate wanted to give of her own free will, and to the best of her abilities, she gave it all. |
| 562 |
When room service came, they had showered separately, and were wearing the hotel's terrycloth robes. They had orange juice and toast, and ham and eggs, and shared a pot of coffee. It was beyond lavish to Joe, who had been living on military rations for so long he had almost forgotten what real food was. |
| 563 |
He put the paper down and smiled across the table at Kate. They had shared a wonderful evening, and whenever he was with her, it was like finding the missing piece of him. It was as though there was a void in him he was never aware of, until he saw her. The rest of the time, other things seemed to fill it. |
| 564 |
As few had in fact, or any. He had never known anyone quite like her. It struck him again as he sat across the table, looking at her. Her eyes were so deep and so powerful, there was something so direct and open and unafraid about her. She was like a young doe sniffing the air, and liking what she sensed. |
| 565 |
In comparison to that, everything else seemed unimportant to them. After breakfast, they dressed, and they almost didn't leave the room on time. He was kissing and holding her, and they could hardly keep their hands off each other. But he had to drop her off at school and get to the airport on time. |
| 566 |
He loved Kate, but he had no choice but to keep it all in perspective. He had important things to do that didn't include her. As he drove her back to school, they were both quiet as Kate glanced at him. She wanted to remember what he looked like at this exact moment, to keep her warm in the days to come. |
| 567 |
She didn't want them to suspect that she had gone to a hotel with him. She just prayed that no one had seen them entering or leaving the hotel. They clung to each other for a long moment, praying that the gods would be good to them, and then she watched him drive away as tears streamed down her cheeks. |
| 568 |
There were wounded soldiers in every city and town, who had come home from the war injured and maimed. There were little flags in windows to honor loved ones who were fighting somewhere. There were soldiers and young girls saying tearful goodbyes to each other, and screams of joy when they returned. |
| 569 |
Kate and Joe were no different than the others, and luckier than some. It was a serious time for everyone, and a time of tragedy for far too many. All Kate knew for certain was that she was lucky to have Joe. She stayed in her room for the rest of the day, and cut the rest of her classes that afternoon. |
| 570 |
It was hard to believe they had known each other for nearly three years now, and so much had happened since they'd met in a ballroom in New York, in his borrowed tails and her evening gown. She had been seventeen then, and a child in so many ways. At twenty, she felt very much a woman. And better yet, she was his. |
| 571 |
She asked Kate if she was all right, and if she'd heard from Joe. Kate insisted she was fine, but neither of her parents believed her. She seemed to be getting older and more mature every day. College had seasoned her certainly, but her relationship with Joe had catapulted her into adulthood in an instant. |
| 572 |
Everyone was growing up overnight these days. Her parents talked about it that night in their room, but they both agreed that Kate was far from unique in her worries about Joe. Most of the young girls and women in the country were worried about someone, brothers, boyfriends, husbands, fathers, friends. |
| 573 |
He was the personification of a hero in every way. For the next four weeks, Kate kept busy at school. She did well at her exams, despite the fact that she was distracted. She got letters from Joe regularly, and she was both relieved and disappointed to discover three weeks after he left that she wasn't pregnant. |
| 574 |
She had no idea when he'd come home again, but she knew that the closeness they had shared would hold her for as long as it had to. It was hard to believe he'd already been away for two years. She slept badly that night, in a sleep filled with odd dreams and strange feelings that woke her through the night. |
| 575 |
But even when she was, she was more serious these days. She seemed more sensible, and not as mischievous as she had been before she went to college. It was as though knowing Joe, or maybe just fearing for him in the circumstances he was in, had turned her further inward. She kept to herself more than she ever had. |
| 576 |
He had never once called her at Radcliffe. He asked if she'd like to come home for dinner that night, and she told him she had work to do, but the more she tried to get out of it, the more insistent he became, and she finally relented and agreed. It seemed odd to her, and she was a little concerned. |
| 577 |
She wondered if one of them was sick, and they wanted to tell her. She hoped not. As soon as Kate walked into the house, she knew something had happened. Her parents were waiting for her in the living room, and her mother had her back to her so Kate wouldn't see her crying. She was devastated for her. |
| 578 |
Her mother stayed with her until late into the night, and stroked her hair lovingly until she fell asleep, making the little snuffling sobs that come after a child has cried for too long. It nearly broke her mother's heart. "I wish she didn't love that man so," Elizabeth said to Clarke when she finally came to bed. |
| 579 |
She scoured the newspapers for some word of him, but her father had already assured her that they would be called before anything more appeared in the press. And he suspected that there would never be. He had probably been dead for weeks by then, and was lying somewhere in Germany in a shallow grave. |
| 580 |
It was as though part of her very being had been cut away, or some deep internal piece of her that she didn't even know was there had been gouged out. She either lay on her bed, staring at the wall, or paced her room at night, feeling like she was about to explode out of her own skin, and nothing helped. |
| 581 |
When she went back to school, she failed an exam for the first time. Her advisor called her in, and asked if something had happened over the holidays. Kate looked terrible, and in a strangled voice she explained that a close friend of hers had been shot down on a mission over Germany. At least it explained her grades. |
| 582 |
She wanted to be free of it, but she knew nothing would ever free her of him. It was too late. And when Andy saw her after she got back from Christmas break, at first he felt sorry for her, and then he scolded her. He told her she was feeling sorry for herself, that she always knew it could happen to him. |
| 583 |
And in Joe's case it could have happened anytime, anywhere, while he did death defying stunts in planes, aerobatics, or raced. Thousands of other women were in the same boat she was in. She and Joe weren't married, they didn't have kids, she wasn't even engaged. But what Andy said to her only made her furious with him. |
| 584 |
She waited for him afterward, and they went out to eat, and then he took her back to the house. She looked better than she had a few days before, and he felt sorry for her when she told him that she'd had a dream about Joe. She was convinced he was still alive, and Andy was sure her mind was playing tricks on her. |
| 585 |
Eventually, it became a sore subject with her, whenever the topic came up with family or friends. People would tell her how sorry they were to have heard about Joe, and then she would insist that he was probably in a German prisoner of war camp somewhere. In time, people stopped mentioning it to her at all. |
| 586 |
Teaching didn't appeal to her, and there was no other career path that held any particular lure for her, nor did anything else. She saw Andy a few weeks after they got back, he was starting his third year of law school, and had almost no time to see her anymore. He loved it, and was working too hard. |
| 587 |
She was twenty one years old, and soon to become a graduate of Radcliffe. She was intelligent, beautiful, interesting, fun to be with, and well informed. By all rights, her mother insisted, if there hadn't been a war on, she would have been married and had kids by then, if not with Joe, then with someone else. |
| 588 |
He'd gotten too busy playing hockey with their friends. And she had gone off to skate by herself. She was very solitary these days. "I still can't believe that he's gone and never coming back," although she had begun to try the idea on for size recently, and it didn't feel good, and probably never would. |
| 589 |
And she had none of that with Andy Scott. Instead of a bright light burning somewhere deep within her, all Andy represented in her mind was a comfortable warm place. It would have been a huge adjustment to make. And when she saw him at school again a few days later, she started to say as much to him. |
| 590 |
She would much rather have been eating at the cafeteria with him, as they always did. But she didn't say it to him. Andy was very circumspect when he took her home at the end of the evening, and he didn't kiss her. He didn't want to scare her off, and he was very sensible about the fact that it was too soon. |
| 591 |
It was actually enjoyable going out on a date, and it was easy being with him. But for her at least, it wasn't exciting or romantic being with him. He was just a friend, and she couldn't imagine, or not yet at least, feeling more than that for him. But at least she was making the effort to give it a chance. |
| 592 |
All he saw was immeasurable pain. It was like looking into a bottomless pool of grief. The fact that she chatted and smiled and had begun to laugh again didn't fool him. And when her mother was rhapsodizing about Andy one day, when she and Clarke were alone having dinner at the house, he tried to discourage her. |
| 593 |
That she had been profoundly in love with one man, and had to be married to someone, anyone, to replace him, whether she loved him or not? To him, it seemed an abysmal fate. He and Liz had been married for thirteen years, and he was still in love with her every day. He didn't want anything less for Kate. |
| 594 |
The war meant more to her than it did to a lot of girls her age, because it had cost her so much. And others were constantly holding their breath, praying that their men would come home. By then, nearly two years after he'd been shot down, even Kate had lost hope that Joe would turn up at the end of the war. |
| 595 |
She went back to the house where she lived a little while after that, and lay on her bed, thinking about Joe again. He was always there, somewhere, close to her. He was never far. And when one of the girls came to tell her Andy was on the phone, she told her to tell him she was out. She just couldn't talk to him. |
| 596 |
She had just been assigned to working on the docks, helping the medical personnel wade through the men who came off the ship, and sending them off to hospitals where they would spend the next several months, or even years. Kate had never seen people so happy to be home, no matter how damaged they were. |
| 597 |
She got them into ambulances and on military trucks. She came home filthy and tired every day, but at least she felt she was doing something useful with her time. She came home very late one night, after a long day working in a packed hospital ward. Because she was so late, she knew her parents would be concerned. |
| 598 |
He had been in Germany for nearly a year by then. And this time, he made it all the way into Sweden and was trying to board a freighter when he was caught again. He was shot that time, and very badly injured. They think he was either delirious or unconscious for several months, and then put in Colditz again. |
| 599 |
His legs are still badly damaged, and had been broken again. He still had bullet wounds in his legs and arms. He's been in hell for all this time. And if they can get him well enough to travel, they're going to put him on a hospital ship in two weeks and bring him home. He should be here sometime in July. |
| 600 |
Andy Scott and everything he had to offer her had just vanished in a puff of smoke. And no matter how much Kate loved Joe, her mother was sure that because of it, he would destroy her life. But it was obvious to both of them how much he meant to her, it had been impossible to overlook for the past two years. |
| 601 |
And when Andy called, she sounded vague when she talked to him. She didn't want to tell him on the phone that Joe was alive, and she didn't know what to say. She had tried so hard to talk herself into loving him, and she might have one day, but in the face of Joe coming home, she could barely talk to Andy anymore. |
| 602 |
She went to work at five in the morning the day Joe's ship was due in. She knew they were expected at six o'clock when they came in with the high tide. They had been just offshore the night before, and had radioed in. She wore a clean uniform and her cap, and her hands were shaking when she pinned it on. |
| 603 |
There were ambulances and military transport vehicles lined up all along the docks, and they would be sending the men to military hospitals over a range of several hundred miles. She had no idea where they were going to be sending Joe. But wherever it was, she was going to be there with him as much as she could. |
| 604 |
It was a scene she had seen often by then, and it always brought tears to her eyes. But this time, she stood watching them, straining her eyes, scouring the decks for him, but she doubted if he was in any condition to be standing up. From the sound of it he would be one of the men on stretchers lying flat on the deck. |
| 605 |
The nurse could only guess at the kind of damage that had been done. "He was shot down on a bombing raid," Kate still had no idea what kind of injuries he'd had. She was just grateful he was alive. It took them over an hour to berth the ship, and then one by one the men came down the gangways to land. |
| 606 |
But this time, Kate wasn't crying for them, she was crying for Joe, as tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched. It was another two hours before she could get on the ship. They were ready to unload the stretcher cases by then, and she went up with a group of orderlies who were going up to take them off. |
| 607 |
She had to fight to control herself, and not shove her way past them, and she had no idea where to find him on the huge ship. She saw quickly that the orderlies on the ship and the crew were bringing out men on litters and laying them on the upper deck. And she carefully threaded her way amongst wounded and dying men. |
| 608 |
She had been walking a cautious path among them, careful not to step on anyone, and she stopped for what must have been the hundredth time when a man with no legs reached up and took her hand. He had lost half his face, and she could see from the way he turned his head, that his remaining eye was blind. |
| 609 |
He had lost an incredible amount of weight, and she could see as she sat back and looked at him that both his legs were in casts, they had reset them in Germany, but the doctors weren't sure yet if he would walk again. His captors had broken them during interrogations and shot him in both legs when he tried to escape. |
| 610 |
The tides of fortune had finally turned. And Kate knew that, whatever else happened to them, she would be grateful forever for the gift of Joe's life. She got in the ambulance, and sat on the floor next to him. She had brought a bar of chocolate for him in her purse and she handed it to him as the ambulance pulled out. |
| 611 |
He had been tortured for four months and then left to die. They had all gotten nightmarish treatment while in German hands, but in each case, civilians had saved their lives, except for Joe, who had been hidden by a farmer at first, but then had simply hung on to life while in prison, until he was found. |
| 612 |
He had never seen a sight as beautiful as her hair and her skin and her eyes, and the other three men riding with them couldn't take their eyes off her. They just lay on their litters and stared at her, while Joe held her hand. "I'm fine. I always thought you were alive," she said in a whisper as she sat close to him. |
| 613 |
She stayed with him while they settled him in the hospital, but after that she had to ride back to the dock with the ambulance and finish work. "I'll come back tonight," she promised him. And by the time she got back to her parents' house after work, and borrowed their car, it was after six o'clock. |
| 614 |
It was nearly seven when she got to him, all clean and neatly tucked into clean sheets by then, he was sound asleep. She sat next to him, without disturbing him, and she was surprised when, two hours later, he stirred. He turned, grimacing painfully, and then sensed her watching him, and opened his eyes. |
| 615 |
The doctors had examined him, and thought that things looked hopeful. They'd done a good job in Germany of setting his legs. For the next month, Kate visited him every evening after work, she sat with him every weekend, and rolled him into the garden in his wheelchair. He called her the angel of mercy. |
| 616 |
He wasn't well enough to go anywhere, but with each day he was better able to move his legs, in spite of the casts. And when they took them off four weeks after he arrived, much to everyone's amazement, he started walking. He could only take a few steps at first, and he was on crutches, but the prognosis was very good. |
| 617 |
Kate, mark my words, as soon as Joe is on his feet, he's not going to be heading down the aisle with you, he's going to be running for the nearest airstrip. All he did was talk about planes yesterday. He's a lot more excited about flying than about being with you. Maybe you'd better face that, before it's too late. |
| 618 |
They hadn't talked about it yet. Kate just assumed it would happen eventually. She wasn't worried about it. She might as well have been married to him anyway, they were totally devoted to each other. He had no interest whatsoever in other women, just in airplanes. Andy came to the house to see Kate the day he got home. |
| 619 |
It felt like losing her best friend. But she still wasn't convinced that his warm friendship would have been enough to make her love him as a husband. Things had obviously worked out the way they should. She waved as Joe hobbled off toward the train. He was getting around surprisingly well, and was very independent. |
| 620 |
And she was more than a little bowled over by what he had to say. The men Charles had introduced him to wanted to start a company with him, to design and build the most advanced airplanes. They had been buying land since the beginning of the war, had remodeled an old factory, and they even had their own airstrip. |
| 621 |
They were setting up the entire operation in New Jersey, and they not only wanted Joe to run it, but to design and test the planes. He was going to wear a lot of hats at first, but eventually when things settled down, he would run the whole operation. They wanted to put up the money. He would be the brains. |
| 622 |
There was a hotel nearby where she could stay, where he had been living for the past month. But the truth was he had no time to spend with her. He was working night and day, and staying in the office until well after midnight. And he was working weekends too. Sometimes he even slept in his office on the couch. |
| 623 |
The whole plant they were setting up was going to be highly innovative, and there had already been several articles about it in business sections and trade papers. He barely managed to call Kate at night, and it had been six weeks since he left Boston when he finally let her come to see him for a weekend. |
| 624 |
It was a fantastic operation, and Joe loved the fact that when he explained it to her, she understood it all. They had a wonderful weekend together. They spent most of it at the plant, and even got some flying time in a brand new plane he had designed. When she got back to Boston, she described it all to her father. |
| 625 |
Sometimes it felt like the whole world. Joe was handling it well, but it left him no spare time to play, or even call Kate much of the time. And by Christmas, in spite of her enthusiasm about his work, she was complaining to him. She had seen him twice in three months, and she was lonely in Boston without him. |
| 626 |
She felt as though she were living in suspended animation, waiting for him to set up his business, and have time for a life. But it was no easy task for him. He had taken on a mammoth project, and he was only just then beginning to realize how much time and effort it was going to take to do it right. |
| 627 |
To Kate, it was beginning to seem like a crazy way to live, and a frustrating way to see each other. She felt like a child, still living with her parents. By then, most of her friends were married. Those who hadn't gotten married before or during the war, were all getting married now, and having babies. |
| 628 |
She would have given anything then for what she had now, even if she seldom saw him. At least they had a whole life ahead of them, and a rosy future once they got married. January was difficult for both of them. She was adjusting to a new job in an art gallery, and he had a terrible battle with the unions. |
| 629 |
For him, the entire month was a nightmare, and February was worse. He didn't make it up for Valentine's Day, in fact he forgot it completely. They had failed to get their final permit for the airstrip. It was crucial for them, and he had to spend three days romancing politicians and lobbying petty officials to get it. |
| 630 |
They had a great time while she was there. She helped him organize his office, and he even managed to take her out to dinner. He stayed at the hotel with her, and she went back to Boston on Sunday night smiling and happy. She enjoyed it so much, she wanted to come down every weekend, which sounded good to him. |
| 631 |
He felt terrible about Kate, but for the moment, there was nothing he could do. He felt as though he were on a constant merry go round, trapped between feeling guilty about Kate and running a business that devoured his every waking hour. And the worse he felt about Kate, the less time he seemed to have. |
| 632 |
She was no longer complaining about not seeing him. It seemed like the perfect arrangement, to them, if not to her parents. They weren't pleased about her visiting Joe in New Jersey, but she was twenty three years old, and she told them she stayed at the hotel. She had the room at the hotel in case they called. |
| 633 |
But Joe was confident about how capable Kate was. He had taught her well, although she hadn't had time to qualify for her license yet. She was too busy working for him. Clarke was vastly impressed by Joe's fabulous new plane, and afterward on the way back to the house they stopped at a roadhouse for some beers. |
| 634 |
He thought telling her when she frightened him might make him even more vulnerable. After his early years with his cousins constantly telling him how worthless he was, any hint of that in the years since made him want to run. It was the button Kate's mother pushed in him, with unpleasant results every time. |
| 635 |
It took me another two years to bring her back from the cave she'd been hiding in since John killed himself. I don't think she really trusted me, or anyone else, for years, particularly men. And Liz adored the child, but I'm not sure she really knew how to reach out to her, she was too shocked by his death herself. |
| 636 |
It's taken Kate her entire life to become the woman she is now. Strong, confident, happy, funny, capable. The woman you love was a terrified, broken little girl for a long time. I think for years she was afraid that I would abandon her in some way too, like her father. Poor bastard, he couldn't help himself. |
| 637 |
It would have been a tragedy for any girl, but it was more than that for Kate. It opened all her old wounds again, I could see it in her eyes every day. It was a kind of loss that could have destroyed her this time, if she weren't as strong as she is. And then, miraculously, you came back from the dead. |
| 638 |
Every time you leave her, or reject her, or make her feel abandoned in some way, you remind her of everything she's ever lost. She's like a wounded doe, you need to be gentle with her, and give her a good home. If you're kind to her, she'll be good to you forever, Joe. But you need to know about that broken piece. |
| 639 |
But he was right, it was an important piece of Kate, and it explained a lot to him. There was a sense of panic about her when he was away from her. She never expressed it openly, but when he left her to go somewhere, he could always see it in her eyes. And that look of terror had frightened him at times. |
| 640 |
I was there for a long time after my wife died. It's a sad life. A girl like Kate won't let you be sad, if you let her in, even just a little bit. She'll make you mad as hell sometimes, but she won't break your heart. She may scare the hell out of you, but she won't break you, you're a lot stronger than you think. |
| 641 |
But even if you do, I hope you'll be man enough to come back and give it another chance. It's rare to see what you two have. You won't get away from each other now, no matter what you do, or how far you run. What you've got runs too deep and it's too strong. I see it in your eyes, and hers. You'll both lose if you run. |
| 642 |
And yet one thing Clarke had said he knew was true. Joe had never loved anyone as much in his life, nor had Kate. And he could easily believe that what they shared would not come again. But the irony was that he had a need to run away, to flee, to be free, and she had a need to hang on for dear life. |
| 643 |
What Clarke had told him that afternoon had changed things in a subtle way. Joe was still afraid of being strangled by a commitment to her, and yet at the same time he wanted to protect her not only from the world, but from herself. He could still sense the lonely child in her, whose father had committed suicide. |
| 644 |
She had grown strong, and she flew well, as far as the world was concerned, but within, she was still a frightened little girl. Just as he had once been a lonely little boy. They had found each other by fate, or destiny, drawn to each other for some deep reason that was perhaps meant to be from the first. |
| 645 |
It was a nice idea, but too much of a good thing made him nervous. He didn't have time to think about getting married. They were talking about building a second factory, and his business was exploding into new levels, and to new heights almost every day. By the fall, marriage was the last thing on his mind. |
| 646 |
He took her father up in one of his newest planes when he came to visit them. She was still keeping up the myth that she was staying at the hotel, and her father was discreet enough not to press them about it, but he was worried about her. And Joe seemed to be spending all his time either in meetings or in the air. |
| 647 |
And the truth was, he finally admitted to her again, he didn't want to have children. He had thought about it repeatedly, and knew it wasn't for him. It just wasn't what he wanted out of life. All he wanted were his business and his planes, and Kate to come home to at night. He didn't want kids or need marriage. |
| 648 |
The prospect of screaming babies in the house and diapers to change horrified him. He had hated his own childhood, and had no desire to share, much less deal with, someone else's. "Are you telling me that if we get married, you don't want kids?" It was the first time he had actually spelled it out for her. |
| 649 |
She knew he wasn't enthusiastic about them, but it had never occurred to her that he had made a firm decision. And he had never before shared that with her quite as directly. He thought it was better not to. And she had been so incredibly helpful in his business that he had no desire to lose her to some screaming brat. |
| 650 |
She felt as though she had been slapped after what he'd just said. "I've always wanted to have children." It was a huge sacrifice for her to make for him, but she also knew how much she loved him, and she didn't want to lose him. Not after losing him for nearly two years during the war. She knew what that felt like. |
| 651 |
They were trapped in a deathly dance. She was feeling abandoned by him, and sensing that in her, and the panic it caused, made him want to run. Joe wanted to escape, and hide somewhere to lick his wounds, but Kate wasn't wise enough to leave him alone. Panic was a powerful force she could not control. |
| 652 |
They both were. They were like two terrified children clawing at each other, and neither of them was able to be adult enough to stop. They were both too scared, she of abandonment, and he of being devoured. "I'm tired too," she said in a tone of despair. She felt lonelier than she ever had in her life. |
| 653 |
She felt shell shocked and unloved as she stood there and cried. When she got into bed, he was already asleep. She got into bed next to him and looked at him for a long time, wondering who he was. She stroked his hair cautiously, as though he might attack her again, and he murmured in his sleep, and turned away. |
| 654 |
She knew that in spite of what he said, he loved her, and she loved him, maybe even enough to give up all her dreams. But she couldn't see how anymore. He was afraid of loving her. He felt safer running away. And all she wanted was to be close to him. She had made a decision in the shower that night. |
| 655 |
She was too big a threat to him. He wanted his business and his planes, and her after that. But Kate was a twenty four year old girl, and she wanted babies and a husband and a life, not just the opportunity to work for him. What he had just said to her struck her like a blow, and confirmed all of her worst fears. |
| 656 |
She kept hoping that he would wake up and miss her unbearably, and call to tell her that he wanted to marry her and have children with her after all. But he meant what he had said. He sent her a small box of clothes a few weeks later, things she had forgotten in his apartment, and there was no note with it. |
| 657 |
Kate spent three months in the Boston winter, going for long walks and crying. And it was a painful Christmas for her. She thought of calling Joe a thousand times, and she desperately wanted to, but she wasn't willing to live with him as his mistress. In the long run, it would have made her feel like an outcast. |
| 658 |
But now she had to. She had taken a brave stand, and now she had to live with it, and make the best of it. She had no other choice. She made an effort to see a few old friends, but she no longer seemed to have anything in common with them. Her life had been too entwined with Joe's for too many years. |
| 659 |
At least it called into play her art history studies from Radcliffe, although these days she knew a lot more about airplanes. Her heart wasn't in it at first, but she was surprised to find, once she got there, that she loved her job, far more than she had expected. And by February, she had found an apartment. |
| 660 |
Talking, living, moving, breathing. Even going to restaurants and eating. Cooking. It was absurd and she knew it, but he had become part of her essence. All she had to do now, she was convinced, was wait a lifetime to forget him. It could be done, she told herself, she just wasn't sure she could do it. |
| 661 |
She woke up every morning feeling as though someone had died, and then she remembered who. She had. She had been in New York nearly a year when she was in the grocery store one day buying dog food. She had just gotten a puppy to keep her company, and even she laughed at herself and admitted that it was pathetic. |
| 662 |
She assumed by then that he was married, although she didn't know that for sure. "How are you, Kate?" he asked, smiling broadly. He had long since recovered from the blow she had dealt him, although even thinking about her had pained him for a long time, and he had thrown away all his pictures of her. |
| 663 |
She didn't tell her parents she'd seen him, she didn't want her mother to get excited. But she answered the phone when he called her in Boston on Christmas morning. And she was happy to hear him. It was almost like the old days, except she liked him better now. He was comfortable and easy and kind to her. |
| 664 |
And that night they went to a movie. They were spending a lot of time together. And she was suddenly less lonely. It wasn't high romance, it was more like high friendship. For the next six weeks, they saw a lot of each other. Dinners, movies, parties, friends. He came to have lunch with her at the museum. |
| 665 |
He was too busy building the business, although she had loved building it with him. But it was fun being with Andy. He had more time for her, and he enjoyed spending it with her. On Valentine's Day he appeared at her apartment with a bouquet of two dozen red roses in his arms, and a huge heart shaped box of candy. |
| 666 |
Even after all this time, it still seemed like an insuperable challenge to her. It seemed incredible to Kate that someone she had loved so much for so long was perfectly able to live without her. It seemed so wrong, after all they'd been through, that they hadn't been able to work it out and end up together. |
| 667 |
But maybe it worked that way, you only got half your wish in life, not the whole one. She no longer believed in happy endings anymore. And Andy's version was happier than most. She very carefully opened the box, and licked the cake off her fingers, and as she opened it, she saw a diamond ring sparkling at her. |
| 668 |
She couldn't have told anyone, and she knew she was wrong to do it, but all morning, she had been longing for Joe. She felt as though she were leaving him all over again. But she knew she'd have a good life with Andy, he was a kind man, and they loved each other. Not with passion, but with tenderness and understanding. |
| 669 |
They had always been friends. But with a little time and effort, she found that she was surprisingly comfortable with him. He was gentle and playful and tender, and desperately in love with her. And by the time they left for the airport that morning, they seemed less like young lovers than old friends. |
| 670 |
He preferred not knowing, and he didn't like asking her about things that reminded her of Joe. He sensed more than knew that it was still a sore subject, and suspected that it would be for a very long time. But she was his now, and no longer Joe's. Venice was even more romantic than Paris, if that was possible. |
| 671 |
Andy didn't want her to work, and at the time she had too much to do. But now she had nothing whatsoever to occupy her until he came home from the office in the late afternoon. And when he did, she was so bored that she dragged him into bed, and then suggested they go out to dinner, even when Andy was tired. |
| 672 |
It had two bedrooms, so even if they had a baby, there would be enough room for all of them. Three weeks after they got back from Europe, Kate smiled at him shyly over dinner, and told Andy she had news for him. He imagined she had done something fun that day, or talked to her mother or one of her friends. |
| 673 |
He told her to be sensible, rest, eat well, and not to do anything foolish like ride horses or skip rope, which made her laugh. And he sent her home with vitamins and some written instructions to share with her husband, and told her to come back to see him in a month. The baby was due in early March. |
| 674 |
And as she walked home to their apartment, she strolled along the edge of Central Park, thinking how lucky she was. She was happy, loved, married, had a great husband, and she was having a baby. All her dreams had come true, and she knew finally that she had done the right thing when she married Andy. |
| 675 |
Most of the girls she'd gone to school with already had two or three. There had been a wave of young people who'd gotten married right after the war, and were having babies every year to make up for lost time. Compared to them, and those who had gotten married before the war, Kate was off to a late start. |
| 676 |
They left the hospital the next morning, hand in hand, and she spent the rest of the week resting. And after that she was fine, and had no more contractions, until early one Sunday morning, when she woke him. She had been lying in bed for two hours, while he slept, timing contractions. And finally, she nudged him. |
| 677 |
He hadn't eaten all day by then, and had seen other fathers come and go, and some who had waited longer than he had. It seemed like an endless process, and all he wished was that he could be with her. The baby seemed to be taking an eternity to get there, and he was hoping things would be easy for her. |
| 678 |
The twelve hours in the waiting room, worrying about them, had nearly driven him crazy. But she looked remarkably calm and happy as she held Andy's hand, she was tired but she looked fulfilled and peaceful. Her dreams had finally come true. Her mother had been right. She had done the right thing, and now she was sure. |
| 679 |
She was a lot older than most of her friends when she had her first baby, but she was ready for him. She was calm and mature, and she was wonderful with him, and loved nursing. She felt as though she had waited an entire lifetime for this time in her life, and she thoroughly enjoyed it, and her husband. |
| 680 |
It startled her, and she looked up from checking the baby, they were still standing in the middle of the street, and she found herself looking into the eyes of Joe Allbright. She just stood there for a minute staring at him, she had thought of him so often and never expected to see him again, except in the newspapers. |
| 681 |
Nothing had changed. He looked exactly the same. Except there was none of the hardness she had seen on that last day, none of the cruel words, or the disappointment. There was just that incredible face and those blue eyes boring into her, looking as though he'd been waiting for her, but she knew that was an illusion. |
| 682 |
If anything, she looked better, as did he. He was thirty nine years old, but no one would have guessed his age. He had an eternally boyish look about him, particularly with his sandy blond hair falling toward his eyes. He pushed it back, as he always had, in a gesture that Kate had always found endearing. |
| 683 |
And now he was standing in front of her, and it was a strange, sad, empty feeling. She would have liked to be able to say she didn't care, and was unaffected by him, but she had the same odd clutch in the pit of her stomach, like a rock that was turning slowly. She had always thought that was what love meant. |
| 684 |
With him, she always felt peaceful. And now, with Joe standing inches from her, she felt intolerably nervous. He was just a piece of her past, she told herself. But a very big piece. There was the same electricity between them as he looked into her eyes. She wondered if those feelings ever went away. |
| 685 |
They were like old friends catching up on old times, standing on the corner shooting the breeze, except they weren't. The breeze they were shooting was a strong one, and there were dangerous currents in the waters they were wading into. Kate tried to tell herself that wasn't true, but instinctively she knew it was. |
| 686 |
In some ways he was different now. He had the aura of a man in power, and yet when he looked at her, he was still the same, awkward, shy, hesitating to look at her one minute, and then gazing directly into her eyes the next, as though he were looking straight into her soul and knew what she was thinking. |
| 687 |
He was used to getting everything he wanted. "I don't know what our plans are," she said vaguely, trying to keep her wits about her, and not feel the effect of him. Being with him was like a drug, and sitting with him in the car she felt the tug of her old addiction. She knew she had to resist. She was married now. |
| 688 |
It was a clever way of reminding her she had been his before she was Andy's. And as he sat next to her, Joe looked over at her with the smile that had cut right through her from the first moment they met. He didn't know what he was doing, it was instinctive, just like the pull he felt toward Kate as he sat beside her. |
| 689 |
And with that, the car stopped at her building, and she got out as quickly as she could. The driver took the pram out of the trunk an instant later, and she put Reed in it, as Joe watched her. He was always watching. He saw everything, he always had, even what she didn't want him to see. And she knew him just as well. |
| 690 |
They were each like the inside of the other, two halves forming a whole, and held together by a magnetic force so powerful that they could barely resist it. And never had before. But she intended to this time. He was out of her life and he was going to stay that way. For her sake, as well as Andy's. |
| 691 |
She was wearing a skirt and blouse and sandals, and he could see that even after the baby, her figure was still perfect. He remembered it distinctly. Three years hadn't dimmed the memories, or the feelings. "Thanks again for the ride," she said, as he stood watching her roll the pram into the building. |
| 692 |
She felt breathless when she and Reed got back to the apartment. The whole experience of seeing him had made her feel uneasy. She wanted to say something to someone, to hang on to something solid, to explain that she hadn't felt anything for him, that she was over him, and glad she had married Andy, and had Reed. |
| 693 |
Maybe all it had ever been was an illusion. What she had with Andy was real love. She was sure of it. Joe was something else, an illusion, a dream, a hope that refused to die, a childish fairy tale that she always wanted a happy ending for and couldn't have. Joe was a disaster waiting to happen, and she knew it. |
| 694 |
Her childhood friends were all in Boston, and she had lost track of most of them during her years with Joe. Her passion for him and the time she'd spent helping him set up his business had isolated her from everyone she'd ever known. And in the time since, she'd gotten wrapped up in Andy's life and their baby. |
| 695 |
She hadn't had the time or desire to make new friends. She and Joe talked about a thousand things at lunch, about his company, his designs, his problems, his latest airplane. And then they spent an hour talking about his airline. He was involved in a multitude of exciting projects. It was a far cry from her own life. |
| 696 |
She didn't want to talk about that with him. It opened too many doors to the past, and she didn't think they should talk about Andy, it seemed disrespectful to her. She knew he wouldn't have liked her having lunch with Joe, but she had felt it was something she had to do to prove something to herself. |
| 697 |
All they had done really was talk about aviation. It was still his favorite subject, and she knew a fair amount about it, or used to. He had always valued her advice, and he had loved it when she worked in the business with him in the beginning. It was why she understood so much of what he was doing. |
| 698 |
And she knew nothing about his airline, except what she read in the papers. They got in his car when they left the restaurant, and she was enormously impressed when she saw his office building. It was an entire skyscraper filled with the people he employed, both for his design company and his airline. |
| 699 |
But not with Joe. She had made her peace with the idea that she couldn't have everything she wanted a long time since. She walked into the conference room with him, and he introduced her to several people, including his secretary, who had been with him right from the beginning and was thrilled to see Kate again. |
| 700 |
She had wanted too much. She stood up then and kissed his cheek, and he closed his eyes as he smelled her perfume. For an instant, it was painfully familiar, just as the feel of his skin was to her and the way he held her. There were a lot of things, maybe too many things, that they both remembered. |
| 701 |
He was sending her back uptown with his driver. "I'd like that," she said softly. He closed the door of the limousine for her, and she waved as they drove away. He stood watching his car for a long moment, and then went back upstairs and sat down at his desk, and frantically began drawing airplanes. |
| 702 |
He was there in fifteen, with two big oozing cheeseburgers in a white paper bag, just the way they both liked them. She hadn't had one like that in years, and as they dripped and dropped ketchup all over the place, and licked their fingers, they laughed at each other as they sat at the kitchen table. |
| 703 |
Joe was like a giant bird who swooped down, and then settled in for a while, and after that took flight again and disappeared. But she had enjoyed seeing him again. She had forgotten what good company he was, and how much they liked each other. He loved her stories, and she made him laugh at silly things. |
| 704 |
It takes a lot of brains and courage to do things right, Kate, and not everyone has that. Sometimes it takes time to figure it out, and then it's too late. But you have to fix it if you can. You can't just sit back and leave things screwed up, and say that was how they were meant to be. Only fools do that. |
| 705 |
There was no point rehashing the past. "You didn't give me enough time," he said, looking deep into her eyes that were the same color as his own. They were like mirrors of each other. They were so alike in some ways, and so diametrically different in others. And it was all so perfect when it worked. |
| 706 |
She looked more peaceful after feeding the baby, and Reed was sound asleep in his bassinet. Kate sat watching Joe for a while, she touched his hair, and gently stroked his face. It was all so familiar. He had belonged to her for so many years, and she to him. They had so much history together, it was a powerful bond. |
| 707 |
They lay on the couch kissing for a long time. It was an impossible situation, with an impossible man. "You've got to go," she whispered. He nodded, but made no move to leave the couch, and kissed her again and again, and after a while, she no longer cared if he left or not. She didn't want him to go. |
| 708 |
It had been the culmination of all the years she had loved him, and the three years they'd been apart. But she had no idea what to do now. They had to forget each other, she told herself, as she watched him slowly stir. The baby was still sound asleep. Joe woke a few minutes later, and when he saw her, he smiled. |
| 709 |
All the feelings they had for each other ran deeper than either of them was able to understand. It was like some kind of primal pull. They had to be together. They were so different, so separate, each so unique, and yet in some part of them, they were as one. It needed no explanations and few words. |
| 710 |
The baby woke up finally with a healthy cry. Kate nursed him while Joe took a shower, and afterward she made breakfast for them. He wanted to linger over breakfast with her, and he laughed when the baby grinned at him from his little seat. And then he said regretfully that he had a meeting that morning, and had to go. |
| 711 |
They still had time to stop. It could be one time, one moment that she could atone for, for the rest of her life. It was early enough to stop before they destroyed everything, and everyone in their wake. She had far more to lose than he. It was up to her to stop, she knew, but she couldn't bear losing him again. |
| 712 |
After he left, she nursed the baby again, and sat quietly on the couch. There were pictures of her and Andy all around the room, and a portrait taken at their wedding the year before. Being with Joe again made Andy seem like a distant dream. She knew she loved him, she reminded herself, he was her husband. |
| 713 |
But he always seemed like a boy in comparison to the man Joe already was. There was something about Joe that intoxicated her every time she saw him. He was right, it was dangerous, but at that exact moment in time Kate knew it was too late to turn back, and the risks seemed worth the happiness they shared. |
| 714 |
She put the baby back in his bassinet, and called the sitter. And at noon, she met Joe at Le Pavilion, and walked in wearing a pale green silk dress, with a watery emerald pin her mother had given her years before. She looked beautiful and delicate, and the dress looked incredible with her dark auburn hair. |
| 715 |
Joe sat staring at her, as she walked across the room, just as he had ten years before. There was a certain danger in their being so visible and public, but they had discussed it and decided that their having lunch openly would seem less suspicious, if someone saw them, than if they appeared to be hiding somewhere. |
| 716 |
He loved the way she looked and played and smelled, loved the way she sauntered across a room, totally unaware of how spectacular she was. Together, they made an extraordinary pair. They were not an obvious match, but they looked incredible together, and always had. It was part of the magic they exuded and shared. |
| 717 |
She had abandoned herself to the fates. The tether that bound them could not be cut. Or at least not yet. They stayed at lunch for a long time, and were very circumspect, and then he went back to the office and she went home. She was going to take Reed to the park, and she found a letter from Andy when she got home. |
| 718 |
And what he had told her about the trials was fascinating. But he also told her how much he missed her and loved her and couldn't wait to come home to Reed and her. Each letter was like a slice to her heart. She had no idea what they would do, and she and Joe had agreed not to try to figure it out until the fall. |
| 719 |
So she decided it was best to go. Joe said he'd keep busy while she was gone, and they agreed that she would call him. Her mother would have recognized his voice on the phone if he called. It was strange being so deceitful, and not something she was proud of, to say the least, but they had no choice. |
| 720 |
And mercifully, she looked appropriately surprised. In fact, she looked stunned. Joe had surprised her and come up to visit his friends, and had come to the barbecue with them. Their hosts were pleased to see him, and remembered him from several years before. Joe Allbright was not a man one forgot, and they hadn't. |
| 721 |
As long as they had never married, her mother discounted whatever they had ever felt. As far as she was concerned, they were wasted years, and she had often said as much to Kate. Kate didn't see it that way. They had been the best years of her life. It was nice to just get away, and walk on the sand in the moonlight. |
| 722 |
They lay side by side far down the beach, and kissed, and held hands on the way back. They let go long before they reached the house, and once back, they were very circumspect. Kate left the party before he did, and her parents were already in bed, and Reed was sound asleep and didn't even want to be nursed. |
| 723 |
But Kate also knew he wanted to marry her now, or so he said, although it was easier to say it now when she was married to someone else. After a while, she took the baby and went outside to sit in the sun on the porch. And as she looked up, she saw a plane doing loops overhead. It was easy to guess who it was. |
| 724 |
She had no idea what they would do when Andy got home, but at least it was another two months away. She and Joe had time to figure out what they were going to do then. He was still flying around overhead, doing loops and rolls, and he did a terrifying stall, which made her put her hand over her mouth. |
| 725 |
He had only called once or twice in the two months he'd been gone, it was almost impossible for him to call, but he wrote to her faithfully every day. By the end of September, Kate and Joe had been living together for two months. It had begun to seem comfortable and normal, as though they were married. |
| 726 |
Kate grabbed it from his hand before he could say anything, and they both looked startled when they realized what he'd almost done. She flew with him every weekend, went to the factory with him, he asked her opinions and she gave him advice. And the people in his office had begun to treat her as his wife. |
| 727 |
He told Kate how grateful he was, how well she had done, how uncomplaining she had been. Her letters had been wonderful, and he was dying to see her and Reed again. The photographs she'd sent were adorable, and Andy said the baby looked even more like Kate than before, except for the color of his hair. |
| 728 |
And he was nearly forty years old. She believed he was finally ready to settle down and make a serious commitment to her this time, or so he said. She just wanted to be sure before she asked Andy for a divorce. Other than being devastated over losing her, she knew he would be heartbroken not to be living with his son. |
| 729 |
He couldn't do more than assure her that he was serious, and wanted to marry her. "I'll tell him when he gets home," she said. She wasn't looking forward to it, but they both agreed, it had to be done. She found a sitter, and they spent a weekend at a cozy inn in Connecticut in an out of the way place. |
| 730 |
Joe had stayed there once before, and no one had bothered or intruded on him. It seemed the perfect hideaway for them. Often, people recognized him wherever they went, and with ordinary strangers, he introduced her as his wife. She didn't respond at first when the woman at the inn called her by Joe's name. |
| 731 |
It was where she wanted to be, and had wanted to be for years, but now that it was happening, it all felt strange. Joe moved his things out the night before Andy came home, but he spent the night with her anyway. The baby was teething and cried all night, Kate's nerves were raw, and by morning even Joe looked strained. |
| 732 |
She was sure it was not going to seem quite so simple to Andy when he heard the news. Kate took a cab to Idlewild at eleven o'clock. She had brought Reed with her, and she was wearing a plain black dress, and black hat. She realized that she looked a little funereal when she left the house, but it seemed appropriate. |
| 733 |
He felt as though he'd been gone for years. He not only felt as though the baby didn't know who he was, he could tell that Kate was ill at ease with him, and when he looked at her as they drove home in a cab, she looked strange. She said she was happy to see him, but she looked like someone had died. |
| 734 |
He looked upset, but he was very much in control. He looked as though he'd matured in the past four months. He had seen and heard of atrocities that had made his blood run cold. There was no way not to grow up with all the responsibility that had rested on him. And now he had come home to something even worse. |
| 735 |
But Andy had something to say about it, and she couldn't divorce him, unless he agreed. He had obviously figured it out, or enough to know that their marriage was on the line, and he was not going to lie down and let her roll over him. He had already made a decision about it, no matter how she felt. |
| 736 |
She had never felt so trapped in her life as she just had, listening to him. He was not going to let her out, she knew, no matter what she said. Her only choice then would be to run away with Joe, and live with him. She couldn't even take Reed with her if she wasn't divorced and didn't have custody. |
| 737 |
Andy might as well have put her in jail and locked her in. And they both knew he just had. She had not yet consulted a lawyer, she had wanted to tell Andy first, but she knew that she could not divorce him without grounds to do so. And she had none against him. Her hands were tied, unless he agreed. |
| 738 |
He left the room and closed the bedroom door. He was shaking when he walked into the bathroom and locked the door, but Kate didn't know that. For the first time in the years she'd known him, she hated him. All she wanted was to be with Joe, but she couldn't leave her son. Andy knew he had her by the throat. |
| 739 |
He went back to his meeting, and she hung up as Andy got out of the shower. She called a sitter and agreed to go to dinner with him that night, but the atmosphere between them was extremely unpleasant when she did. He was icy with her and his tone was hard. He wanted her to know that he meant everything he'd said. |
| 740 |
But he didn't seem to care. No matter what Kate did or said, Andy would not let her go. He didn't want to know who or why. He wanted to hear none of it, and they spoke not a word to each other as they went home in a cab. Kate felt almost as though she had lost her strength to move or walk or speak to him. |
| 741 |
Joe kissed her before she left, and she went home. And when Andy came home that night, she tried to talk to him again, to no avail. He lost his temper this time, and threw a porcelain candy dish at the wall. It had been a wedding gift from one of her friends and it smashed to smithereens, while Kate cried. |
| 742 |
He was right. Less than two minutes later, the secretary led him into a staggeringly impressive office full of the art and treasures and memorabilia Joe had collected since the advent of his success. Joe did not rise to greet him, but sat watching him like an animal being stalked, from behind his desk. |
| 743 |
His cool demeanor was a better hand of poker than he had ever played in his life. Joe was taller, older, smarter, more successful, and Kate had been in love with him for most of her adult life. He would have been an awesome opponent for any man. But Andy knew he had the winning hand, and for once Joe did not. |
| 744 |
He was the better fighter of the pair, but this time Andy had him on the ropes. He was the small speedy devil who was going to bring down the champion, and he could already taste the prize. He didn't care what he had to do to keep her, but he wasn't going to lose her to Joe this time. No matter what. |
| 745 |
Her secrecy about that had set the stage for everything else Andy chose to say. Kate had never seen a psychiatrist in her life, as he knew full well, nor attempted suicide, nor chased after him when he went to work. Nor had he ever come home to her in the middle of the day. It was all lies. But it had worked. |
| 746 |
Kate never knew what had happened between Joe and Andy that day. She never even knew that they had met. Andy came home quietly that afternoon and said nothing to her. But there was an air of victory about him that made her feel sick. Her jailer, who had once been her husband, was pleased with himself. |
| 747 |
It was something he could not do. And listening to him, she could see the guilt in his eyes. He was in great pain. Far greater than she knew. All he'd been able to think of since seeing Andy was her attempted suicide three years before, and all because of him supposedly. It was more than he could stand. |
| 748 |
But just as he knew it would, the time and space between them began to force them apart, no matter how deeply they still felt for each other. Andy had executed his plan brilliantly. The fatal damage had been done. But Kate knew that no matter how long he kept her prisoner, he would never change what was in her heart. |
| 749 |
Reed was walking by then, and when they got home, she called Joe, as she did from time to time, just to see how he was. Hazel said he was in California, doing test flights again, and Kate asked her to send him her love when he called. All she heard from him by then were cryptic postcards once in a while. |
| 750 |
In the past year, she had felt nothing for him. The only man she still cared about was Joe, and he was out of her life and back to his own, and his other love. His airplanes had become his passion again, and had always been. It was only for a brief time that he had finally understood he could have both. |
| 751 |
And she hadn't, until then. But she was so lonely, the champagne had unleashed a torrent of desire that had gone unquenched for too long. They made no mention of it and went back to their separate solitude, and it was only at the end of January that she told him the news. She had been devastated when she found out. |
| 752 |
Andy had made it perfectly clear to her. He owned her for the rest of her life. And now, she was expecting another child. He hoped it would bring them closer to each other, but it drove them even further apart. She was constantly sick, day and night. She took to her bed and stayed there most of the time. |
| 753 |
Talking to him was like talking to a distant friend, someone you had met years before and hadn't seen in a long time. "I thought you'd like to know. I'm moving out after the baby comes." He had made the decision weeks before, and rented an apartment that afternoon. He couldn't live that way anymore. |
| 754 |
She smiled as she turned over and went to sleep. It was hard to believe that the dream would ever be hers. It had always been just out of reach. And it was again. He was engaged, or maybe even married by then. She felt she had no right to turn his life upside down again. Whatever he had now, he had a right to it. |
| 755 |
She wished for him that he would marry again and have more kids. He deserved a lot better than she'd given him, although they both loved Stephanie and Reed. He was going to see them every Wednesday afternoon, and alternate weekends. It had all been so neatly and quietly done, as though it had never happened at all. |
| 756 |
She was telling the men where to deliver it, as Reed jumped up and down clapping his hands, when she saw someone get out of a car with his head down in the cold. It had just started to snow. He was wearing a hat and a dark coat, and she knew it was him even before he turned around, and as soon as he did, he saw her. |
| 757 |
They hadn't talked on the phone in months, or seen each other in two years. As he walked toward her, she smiled in spite of herself. Destiny. There he was. Just seeing him reminded her of the magic they had always shared. Their paths crossed and then disappeared again, separately, and then suddenly there he would be. |
| 758 |
But she didn't want to say it to him. There had been so much water under the bridge, oceans of it. Wars, and the empire he'd built, her marriage, their affair two years before, and now her divorce. They had come together and apart so many times, in so many ways, and yet the bond was still there, the magic, the flame. |
| 759 |
It was hard to believe that their time had finally come. Neither of them was entirely sure it had, but it looked like it. And suddenly there didn't seem to be a moment to waste. He wasn't going to wait another twelve years to work it out. He wasn't going to let her get away this time, or run away himself. |
| 760 |
Joe was hers. She had earned the right to be with him fair and square. He called her two hours later, and came by at eight o'clock that night after the children were asleep. They were so hungry for each other that they didn't waste any words. They closed her bedroom door and nearly devoured each other. |
| 761 |
They went alone, hand in hand, with no friends and no witnesses, and no false hopes. And they called her parents when they got home. The suddenness of it came as a shock to them, but it was not a total surprise. Her mother reminded her father that she had finally lost a bet to him, over Joe marrying Kate. |
| 762 |
He lay looking at her for a long time that night after she fell asleep. Everything about her had always fascinated him, and now she was finally his. He didn't see how it could go wrong. It seemed like the perfect combination to him. He had always been her passion, and she was his dream. Her happy ending had come. |
| 763 |
She flew with him on weekends, and when he came home at night, he played with the kids. She went to California with him in January, and was enormously impressed by his entire operation there. She even went to Nevada with him, and watched him do his test flights, and afterward, he took her up for a spin. |
| 764 |
He had dazzled Kate with a series of loops and stalls. She had always loved doing that with him. She said it was better than a roller coaster, and nothing he did, no matter how scary, ever made her airsick. She loved flying with him, no matter what he did, although she didn't fly herself anymore. It had been too long. |
| 765 |
She loved flying, loved him, loved his planes. And she put something in his life that, without her, was never there. She was full of mischief and childlike spirit and fun. She trusted him and loved him. She was serious when he wanted her to be, and smarter than any woman he'd ever known, and most men. |
| 766 |
And they made a couple so striking and so handsome that wherever they went, people stopped to stare. Everyone knew who he was, and his quiet, powerful style was the perfect counterpoint to her wit, charm, and poise. She and her children moved into his apartment a month after they got married, and she brought her dog. |
| 767 |
And little by little, she added pretty things to his apartment and feminine touches, which made it more livable for all of them. They were even talking about buying a house. They talked about a lot of things. Nothing was sacred now to either of them. He had even brought up her "attempted suicide" one day. |
| 768 |
And I hate to admit it to you, but he played me like a harp. He told me how desperate and insecure you were, and how unstable, that you'd tried to kill yourself when we broke up before, and he got me so panicked that I was afraid I'd drive you to it again if I ever did anything wrong or hurt you again. |
| 769 |
She wanted to take some time to think about it, but she knew she would confront him about it one day. In the end, even after having used every ruse he could, he had lost her anyway. In spite of that, in the end, she had found her way back to Joe, and she was grateful for the kindness of the fates every day. |
| 770 |
But from Kate's perspective, she was thirty years old, had a husband she was crazy about, and spent most of her time alone. She went to dinner parties without him, spent weekends with the children, went to sleep alone at night, and had to explain to people who wanted to see them that her husband wouldn't be there. |
| 771 |
All of New York wanted to invite them, the Allbrights were much in demand, he had become the most important man in aviation in eight short years, and he was only forty two years old. He had achieved what he had totally on his own, and he was not only admired for his skill as a pilot, but for his genius in business. |
| 772 |
She had to stand in line with everyone else, and most of the time, she got last place. That was just the way it worked. And if she wanted a life with him, which she did without question, it was what she'd get. He couldn't slice off more pieces of himself than he already had, and he expected her to understand. |
| 773 |
And although she tried to reason with herself, at times she felt abandoned when he was gone. She tried to explain it to him calmly one afternoon when he was home. It was the week after Thanksgiving, and he was watching football on TV. He had come home early that morning, and hadn't slept at all the night before. |
| 774 |
It hurt too much. But she couldn't understand that, any more than he could understand how abandoned she felt. The vicious cycle of their early years had begun again. There was no arguing with him, no way to balance what he was accomplishing in business, and the pressures on him, with what she wanted from him. |
| 775 |
He had gone back to Hong Kong to meet with bankers there, and they were giving him a tough time. And she knew he still had to stop in California on the way home. There were problems at the plant, and the engine for one of his latest designs had failed. There had been yet another death, and he took the blame. |
| 776 |
But he had sworn to her that, no matter what happened, he would be home on Christmas Eve. And she was counting on him. He had promised that, come hell or high water, he would be home that day. He had even told her that he would skip the trip to California, if he had to, and go back after the holidays. |
| 777 |
He was squealing with excitement, and she was humming to herself when the phone rang. She had talked to Hazel, Joe's secretary, after breakfast, and she hadn't had confirmation, but she was sure Joe was on the flight back. He had told her it was what he planned to do, when she spoke to him the day before. |
| 778 |
She wasn't angry, she was bitterly disappointed. She knew it probably wasn't his fault, but it was painful anyway. He wouldn't be there for Christmas, and then she forced herself to remember what it had been like when he'd been shot down. She thought he was dead. Now at least she knew he was coming back. |
| 779 |
And all she could do was tell herself that it didn't matter. They'd have Christmas together next year. Sometimes things worked out that way, and she knew she had to be grown up about it. But she almost cried when her parents called, and then assured them she was fine. She didn't hear from Joe for another two days. |
| 780 |
He had flown the company plane himself. He didn't trust anyone else to bring him in in one piece in conditions like that. Kate was waiting for him, she had already taken off her dress, and was in bed with a book. She didn't even hear him come in, and suddenly he was standing in the room, looking at her sheepishly. |
| 781 |
Kate loved having him at home every night, although she hated to admit to herself that she could see Joe was getting restless. He was flying a lot on weekends, and one Sunday, they even flew up to Boston to visit her parents. And on the way back he let her take the controls for a while, which was fun for her. |
| 782 |
He was home so rarely, and for so little time, that everything revolved around him when he was there. Between public adulation over his flying record, his heroism during the war, and his enormous success in business, all he ever heard was how remarkable he was, and Kate's was just one more voice added to the others. |
| 783 |
He had told her for years that he didn't want children. There were enough children in the world, the baby boom had repopulated the world, and he didn't feel he needed to add to it. And when Reed threw his arms around Joe's neck when they got home, he looked over his head at Kate, as though to prove his point. |
| 784 |
For him, at least. The subject didn't come up again, and he made a point of being home for the holidays that year. Kate had never let him forget the fact that he had missed Thanksgiving and Christmas with her the year before, so he arranged his entire schedule to accommodate her, and he thoroughly enjoyed it. |
| 785 |
The sitter was off on Sundays and holidays. "I'm fine, honestly," she insisted a minute later, and stood up very quickly. She had a lot to do, and didn't want to waste time. And the moment she got up, he turned to look at her, as her eyes rolled slowly back in her head, and she slid to the floor at his feet. |
| 786 |
He didn't want to tell her, but he was worried sick. In all the years he'd known her, she had never fainted. He was still sitting on the couch next to her when she woke up, and she looked much better. And over his protests, that night she cooked them all dinner, but he noticed that she ate very little. |
| 787 |
We have enough strain on us now, you're the one who says I'm never here. And now you're going to be whining constantly that I'm not home with our baby. Christ, if this was what you wanted, you should have married another guy, or stayed married to Andy. He seems to have a kid every time he looks at a woman. |
| 788 |
And the next day he left for his four week trip to Europe. He didn't even say goodbye to her before he left. He just stormed out of the house. It was a whole week this time before he called her, which was unusual for him. But he had been stewing while he was gone, and all she could do was leave him alone. |
| 789 |
He asked how she was, and how the children were, and then he told her what he was doing. And after a few minutes, he told her he'd call her again sometime soon. In the end, he called her three times in four weeks. And she knew that when he came back, he was only going to be in New York for two days. |
| 790 |
He flew back to New York on the first of February, and the kids were already in bed when he got home. Kate was in the living room, watching television, and she looked up with a start when she heard him come in. It took him a few minutes to walk into the living room, and he approached her slowly when he did. |
| 791 |
Joe had barely survived the idea of one baby, she couldn't bear to think what he'd say if he thought there were two. They went to the kitchen after that, and she talked animatedly, telling him everything she'd done, who she'd seen, where she'd been. He loved listening to her, even when he was tired. |
| 792 |
When they went to sleep that night, he put his arms around her. He loved feeling the silk of her skin next to him. And he was amazed, when he ran his hands lightly over her belly, he could feel a small round bump. She had her back to him so she couldn't see his face, but Joe smiled as he drifted off to sleep. |
| 793 |
She could hardly wait for the baby to come. It was due at the end of August, or possibly earlier, if it was twins. The doctor had warned her that she might have to go to bed for the last two months. But so far, despite her size, he hadn't heard two heartbeats, only one. Andy's baby was born in March. |
| 794 |
Kate sent them a gift and a little note, congratulating them. He looked happy whenever he came to pick up the kids. It was as though the time they had spent together had never been. He just seemed like someone she had known a long time before. She remembered him best from the time they'd been friends. |
| 795 |
She rolled down her window and put the radio on, it was a warm night, and she enjoyed the drive. She was back on the parkway at a quarter to eight. But at midnight, the sitter called the Greenwich house. Kate had never come home. Julie answered when Kate's baby sitter called, and she sounded concerned. |
| 796 |
The sitter thought at first that maybe Kate had decided to stop on the way and see friends. But by midnight, she had the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. And she decided to call the Scotts to see if Kate had been tired, and stayed with them. She didn't think she would, but it seemed worth a call. |
| 797 |
There was a huge bandage on her head, a cast on her leg, and he saw as soon as he entered the room that the sheet across her stomach was flat. She didn't know it yet, but she'd lost the baby in the car. It brought tears to his eyes to see the condition she was in, and he walked over to her and gently took her hand. |
| 798 |
In their early days, there had been so many happy times. And the thought of the first year of their marriage always warmed his heart. She was still in a coma when he left the room. And when he spoke to the doctor, he told Andy that they weren't sure yet if she'd survive. It was going to be touch and go for a while. |
| 799 |
He couldn't even call Joe's office, because it was the weekend. If they didn't hear from him soon, Andy was afraid Kate would be dead by the time he called. He couldn't have done anything for her at this point, but it would have been nice for her if he'd been there, or if someone knew where he could be found. |
| 800 |
He called New York, and Joe hadn't called. He and Julie took turns calling the hospital through the night, and they said nothing to the kids. Reed sensed that something was going on, but he had been happy playing outside all afternoon, and his father had told him that his mother had gone away for the weekend. |
| 801 |
Her situation didn't worsen, nor did it improve, she was just hanging there, in limbo, between life and death. From what Andy could see when he returned to the hospital on Sunday afternoon, she was hanging by the merest thread. And still there was no sign of Joe. Her mother cried every time someone mentioned his name. |
| 802 |
And after he hung up, he sat staring across the room. He couldn't believe what they had said. She was barely alive, and she'd lost the babies, the nurse explained. She told him Kate had been pregnant with twins. But all he could think of as he sat on the bed at Claridge's was what he would do if she died. |
| 803 |
It had been five days since the accident. Kate was on a respirator, and being fed through a tube. She hadn't regained consciousness, although they thought the head injury had improved. The swelling was slightly down, and they thought it was a good sign. Her parents had gone back to their motel nearby to rest. |
| 804 |
Andy couldn't even conceive of disappearing for days on end like that. He wondered if he'd been cheating on her, but he didn't know Joe. That was the way he was. Kate had gotten used to it, but there were still times when it was hard on her. Joe reached out when he was ready to, and sometimes he didn't call for days. |
| 805 |
No matter how odd their relationship seemed to other people, he was deeply in love with her, and had been for fifteen years. She was his best friend, his comfort, his mentor, his laughter, his joy, his conscience sometimes, and always had been the love of his life, the only woman he had ever really loved. |
| 806 |
But he had a strange sense in the room, as though someone was watching him. It was as though he could feel her in his own skin, and he was terrified she would die. It made him realize how much he loved her, and he had always known how much she loved him. They just didn't always want the same things. |
| 807 |
He didn't know why, but he felt guilty about the accident. He wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, but he thought he should have been there. He had had no sense that anything had happened to her, he had spent a wonderful three days on his friend's boat. He was British and they'd flown together in the war. |
| 808 |
In retrospect, he couldn't even imagine what it would have been like having twins. But that was beside the point. Joe never went to sleep that night, and at six o'clock he got up and brushed his teeth and washed his face. He had just walked back to her bed to look at her, when she stirred slightly, and opened her eyes. |
| 809 |
She knew instinctively what had happened, and there was nothing he could do to comfort her. He was just glad she was alive. When the nurse came back, she brought the doctor in, and they were pleased to see she had regained consciousness, but the doctor told Joe in the hall she wasn't out of the woods yet. |
| 810 |
She had had a serious concussion and been in a coma for five days. Her leg was badly fractured, and she'd hemorrhaged when she lost the twins. He was anticipating a long recovery, and she would have to convalesce for several months. And he was concerned that she might not be able to get pregnant again. |
| 811 |
He could understand how they felt. Although it all seemed a little unreasonable to him. It had been sheer bad luck that she'd gotten in an accident and lost the twins. He had a right to go on business trips, after all, although maybe not to disappear on a boat for three days, with a pregnant wife at home. |
| 812 |
And his being there wouldn't have changed anything, except that he might not have let her drive to Connecticut. But he couldn't protect her every hour of the day. The driver who had hit her had been drunk, the tests showed. It could have happened anywhere, anytime, even if he'd been driving the car. |
| 813 |
She only got headaches once in a while, and they took the cast off her leg in early May. She looked like herself again, and had lost a lot of weight. But the woman Joe came home to at night was not the one he had married. It was as though the bright light he had always seen shining from her soul had gone out. |
| 814 |
Joe tried with everything he knew for two months to cheer her up, and then he did what he knew best. He escaped. It was too hard being with her. She was constantly angry and depressed. It was as though she blamed him, just as everyone else did, for not being there, for the accident, and the lost twins. |
| 815 |
By the time Joe hit the road again, his nerves were raw. And all they did was argue when he called home. It was like a nightmare that just wouldn't end. He didn't want it to be that way, but he no longer knew what to do, or how to find Kate. She was lost somewhere, and the woman she'd become only drove him away. |
| 816 |
She replayed it in her head a thousand times, driving the car, losing the twins, wondering why she had volunteered to drive Reed to Greenwich that night. If she hadn't, the babies would have been born by then. And now she would never have Joe's child. He had been firm with her that he didn't want to try again. |
| 817 |
You just want to sit here, feeling sorry for yourself. Well, for chrissake, Kate, goddamn grow up. I can't sit here holding your hand all the time. I can't bring those babies back, and who knows, maybe it was for the best, maybe we weren't meant to have more kids. It wasn't our decision, it was God's. |
| 818 |
He walked out of the apartment and slammed the door, and stayed at the Plaza that night. And all she did was lie on her bed and sob. She had said everything she hadn't wanted to say to him. But she was so filled with misery and grief, and so lonely for him all the time. And all she had done was make it worse. |
| 819 |
She had said such terrible things to him, and been so unkind to him that for the first time he was beginning to wonder if they would ever find each other again. And the guilt she had engendered in him only made him want to escape. Joe felt overwhelmed and he had never been as lonely or as miserable in his life. |
| 820 |
And her mother was constantly whipping her up. He wished Kate would stop talking to her, but he knew it was something he couldn't ask. She was much better this time, and they both finally began to relax. They agreed to stay home for the holidays, and not spend Thanksgiving with her parents in Boston this year. |
| 821 |
It was as though she wanted to destroy what he and Kate had, at all costs. And she was doing a good job of it. In two short weeks, she had turned Kate around again, and they hardly spoke the night he came home. He didn't apologize to her, he didn't explain it again, he didn't defend himself for having been gone. |
| 822 |
He wanted to give Kate time to calm down and readjust. He knew that his comings and goings were hard for her, and she needed time to warm up to him again sometimes, particularly if her mother had been talking to her a lot. He told her about Japan when she came to bed, and acted as though nothing was wrong. |
| 823 |
To him, it meant a badly timed business trip. To her, it was a slap in the face, or worse, it meant that he didn't love her as much as she'd thought, or perhaps at all. Her mother had tried to convince her of that. Things calmed down a little in the next few days, and he was home for more than two weeks. |
| 824 |
She wondered sometimes if he avoided their holidays intentionally, because Christmas and other holidays had been so depressing for him as a kid. But whatever the reason, she always felt hurt when he didn't make it home for some major event, no matter how good his intentions were or his efforts to be there. |
| 825 |
She went on a couple of trips with him that year, but she was always sitting in a hotel room waiting for him, and eating room service alone. It made more sense for her to stay home with her kids. She tried talking to him, but he was sick of hearing it, and being made to feel guilty, and she was tired of his being gone. |
| 826 |
She loved him more than she ever had, but the last couple of years had taken a toll on both of them. Her accident the year before had ripped them apart, and they'd found their way back to each other again, but the same spark wasn't there anymore. She was thirty three years old, living with a man she never saw. |
| 827 |
And they came home earlier than usual that summer, because her father got very sick. Joe seemed to be on the go constantly, and it was mid September before their paths crossed again, and he actually came home to spend three weeks in New York. But when she saw him this time, she knew something had changed. |
| 828 |
At first, she thought it was another woman, but after the first week he'd been home, she realized it was something far worse. Joe just couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't have the career he wanted and worry about her. In the end, he had chosen to escape. The price of loving her, or anyone, was simply too great. |
| 829 |
And what he had wanted from Kate, and to share with her, had been an impossible dream. It took him days to say it to her, but finally he did. The night before he left for London, to acquire a small airline there, he saw Kate lying next to him in their bed, and knew he could never come back to her again. |
| 830 |
She had seen something terrifying in his eyes for three weeks, and had done everything she could not to provoke him this time. She had tried to stay small and stay away from him, and not anger him. They hadn't had a fight in months. But it had nothing to do with fighting, or not loving her. It had to do with him. |
| 831 |
The rest of what was left he wanted for himself. And he no longer wanted to apologize or explain or have to comfort her. He knew how abandoned she felt when he was gone, but he no longer cared. Meeting her needs and his own was just too much work for him. Kate turned to look at him without saying a word. |
| 832 |
It could only get worse. There would be Thanksgiving and Christmas, and their anniversary, and holidays he didn't even know or care about, and then the summer and Cape Cod again. He had been married to her for three and a half years, and as it turned out, it was all he wanted from her, and all he wanted to give. |
| 833 |
It was the same look he had seen in the hospital in Connecticut when she discovered her babies had died. And probably the look on her face as a child when her father committed suicide. It was a look of total devastation, and the ultimate abandonment. And he felt wracked with guilt again doing that to her. |
| 834 |
Something he didn't want and had never wanted to have. He had everything he had ever wanted now, just as she had the day she married him. And only one of them was going to get to keep the gift life had given them. The gift she had given him from her heart was one he no longer wanted from her. It was as simple as that. |
| 835 |
He knew he wanted freedom more than anything. The freedom to continue building his empire, and design extraordinary planes, the freedom not to love her anymore. He had given all he had to give. He had realized that summer that he'd been faking it for the last year. He didn't want to do that to her, or to himself. |
| 836 |
He hated calling her, hated being there, hated getting home for holidays, making excuses when he couldn't get back for things that were important to her. He had given her nearly four years. It had been enough for him. She sat in bed looking shell shocked, and when he was through, she started to cry again. |
| 837 |
The one thing he didn't want to take with him was her. She had no idea what she was going to do with the rest of her life. Die, she hoped. After being married to him, and seeing her dreams come true, no matter how hard it was sometimes, she couldn't imagine living without him. But she knew she had to now. |
| 838 |
It was impossible to believe that she hadn't done something terrible to him. But the truth was she hadn't, other than marry him. It was the one thing he didn't want, and thought he had. But he'd been wrong. She fascinated him, she intrigued him, she excited him, but that was all it had ever been for him. |
| 839 |
She stroked his hair, and looked at him as he slept. If he had been anyone else, she would have thought he was insane. But there was something very cold and calculating about what he had said. It was the only way he knew to save himself, and it reminded her of their ending in New Jersey years before. |
| 840 |
She had been dispensed with, dismissed, as she understood it, he didn't want her anymore. It was the cruelest thing anyone had ever done to her. In some ways, even crueler than her father's suicide. In Kate's eyes, the reasons Joe had offered weren't adequate to justify his leaving her, although they were to him. |
| 841 |
Every time he listened to her, he could hear his cousin's voice telling him what a rotten kid he was, and how disappointed she was in him. Just seeing Kate, whenever he came home, reminded him of how inadequate he had felt as a child, and what a failure he believed he was as a human being and a man. |
| 842 |
In the end, it was easier for him to be alone than to be tormented by her, or cause her pain. Every time he knew he hurt or disappointed her, it was agony for him. And there was a selfish side to him as well. He didn't want to meet anyone's needs but his own. It took Kate months to understand what had happened to them. |
| 843 |
The divorce had been filed by then, and they had been separated for nearly a year. He had refused to see her during that time, but called occasionally to check on her and the kids. For months, Kate had wandered around the house they'd rented, in a daze. The hardest part was learning to live without him again. |
| 844 |
It was like learning to live without air. She thought constantly about what had happened to them, trying to understand her part in it. And through the months of her despair, the light began to dawn, slowly at first, and in time she could see how her reaching out and wanting more time with him had panicked him. |
| 845 |
And she endured another blow when Clarke died in the spring. And just as she had years before, Kate's mother retreated into her own world, and all but disappeared. Kate cried herself to sleep at night, and the loneliness she felt was overpowering. But as the months drifted by, she slowly found her feet again. |
| 846 |
And in fact she had nothing left of him but his name. It would have been hard to say when the change happened in her. It didn't come suddenly. It wasn't a sudden awakening. It was a slow, arduous winding path up a mountainside toward maturity and growth. And as she climbed the mountain day by day, she grew strong. |
| 847 |
The things that had once so desperately frightened her seemed less ominous. She had lost so much of what mattered most to her that abandonment was finally a monster she had faced and conquered on her own. Of all the things that terrified her, losing him had been her worst fear. But she had, and lived. |
| 848 |
Her children were the first to see the change in her, long before Kate was even aware of it herself. She laughed more often, and cried less easily. She went on a trip to Paris with them. And this time, when Joe called when she came home, to see how they were, he heard something different in her voice. |
| 849 |
He couldn't help wondering, in spite of himself, if there was a new man in her life. He wanted that for her, and yet at the same time, he hoped not. He had avoided all the available women he had met for the past year. He didn't want to get tangled up with anyone. Perhaps ever again, he told himself. |
| 850 |
As always, for Joe, it was easier to be alone. But he had missed Kate, and the warmth she brought to his life, for many months. What kept him away from her was that the price of being with her and loving her was too high for him. He was certain that to approach, or even see her again, would only sear his wings again. |
| 851 |
But at the same time, he had not. As Kate did every morning when she woke up, he remembered only too well what it was like waking up next to her. He had not touched a woman for an entire year. Kate had begun seeing other men for dinner from time to time, but she could not bring herself to do more than that. |
| 852 |
In truth, being alone no longer seemed menacing to her. It had grown comfortable, she had the children and friends. She had looked loss in the eye and she had not died of it. And slowly, she realized that nothing would ever frighten her in just that way again. She could see it all so much more clearly now. |
| 853 |
Clarke had left half his fortune to her, and she had never wanted to take anything from Joe. He suggested his lawyer send some documents to her. It was about a piece of property he had just sold, and he wanted her to sign a quitclaim deed. She agreed, but for a moment on the phone, her voice sounded odd. |
| 854 |
She still missed seeing him and touching him, the smell of him, the feel of him, but she accepted now that he was gone forever from her life. She knew she would not die of it, but it still felt like losing an essential part of her, like a leg or an arm, or her heart. But she was entirely prepared to go on without him. |
| 855 |
For more than a year, he had thought of her as dangerous. It wasn't that she meant to be, but he was afraid that if he even saw her he would fall in love with her all over again, and the deadly dance would begin again. It was a risk he was no longer willing to take. And he was far too cognizant of her charms. |
| 856 |
And for once she didn't sound devastated, or distraught. There was no desperation in her voice. No subtle reproach to cause him guilt. She sounded peaceful, and sensible, and calm. She went on talking to him about a new subdivision he had formed, and a new plane he had designed. And after he hung up, it gnawed at him. |
| 857 |
And he realized that, even more than he had, she had moved on. She had found freedom finally. And in losing him, she had found peace. She had faced the worst of her fears, looked the monsters squarely in the eye, and had somehow managed to make peace not only with herself, but with him, and go on with her life. |
| 858 |
She knew there was no chance he would ever come back. She had given up the dream. He lay awake long into the night, thinking about her, and in the morning he told himself how unkind it had been of him not to at least see the kids. It wasn't their fault that his marriage to their mother hadn't worked out. |
| 859 |
She had begrudged him nothing in the past year. She had asked nothing of him. She had fallen down the abyss she had always feared, and instead of hanging on to him to survive, and strangling him, she had let go. The thought of it mystified him, and all he could ask himself as he went to work that day was why. |
| 860 |
He couldn't help thinking that it had to be because she was clinging to another man. There had to be. He had felt devoured by her needs. But late that afternoon, he called her again. The same document was still sitting on his desk. He had forgotten to give it to his secretary the day before to send to Kate. |
| 861 |
He couldn't leave her now. He already had. All the worst possible things had happened to her, all the things she used to have nightmares about, and she had survived. More important, even from the distance, she had finally understood who Joe was. And even if she never saw him again, there was no question in her mind. |
| 862 |
He was the biggest and the best, the only man she had ever truly loved, and the one she had accepted that she couldn't have. Knowing that, and that it was in part her fault that she had lost him, had been hard blows to recover from, but nonetheless she had. And she had come out of it, not broken but strong. |
| 863 |
His vulnerability and fears only made him more lovable. She had learned so much. Her only regret was not being able to share it with him. She knew she would never get that chance, and doubted if, after that afternoon, she would ever see him again. Once his quitclaim deed was signed, he had no reason to see her again. |
| 864 |
There was no way he could do that for her, and no way she could soothe his wounds, while she was crying out herself. They had been two children, frightened in the night, and all Joe had known how to do was run away. She loved him in spite of it, and the soul searching she had done had served her well. |
| 865 |
Joe arrived promptly at five o'clock, with his documents in hand. He seemed awkward at first, but all it did was remind her of the first time they'd met. She kept a safe distance from him, and made no attempt to approach. They sat and talked quietly, about the children, his work, and a new plane he wanted to design. |
| 866 |
Just seeing him touched her heart. She would have loved to put her arms around him and tell him she would always love him, but she wouldn't have dared. She sat across the room from him, admiring him, and loving him, like a beautiful bird she could see but never touch. If she did, she knew he would fly away. |
| 867 |
It was all Joe would accept from her ever again. It was nearly eight o'clock when Joe left. She signed the papers for him, and was surprised when he called her back the next day. He sounded awkward again, but this time he relaxed more rapidly, and then nearly strangled on the words when he invited her to lunch. |
| 868 |
And went for a walk in the park the following weekend. They talked about the mess they'd made and what might have been, what couldn't be. And she finally had a chance to apologize to him. She had wanted to for months, and was grateful for the opportunity to tell him how deeply she regretted the pain she had caused him. |
| 869 |
It was an aberration of some kind, she knew, that she was still in love with him, and suspected she might always be. She felt that after all that had happened, she no longer deserved another chance with him. They went back to the house afterward, and he saw Stevie and Reed for the first time since he'd left. |
| 870 |
And she was quiet for a long time after he left. She wanted to believe they could be friends. She had no right to anything more from him, and she told herself it would be enough for her. On his way home, he was trying to convince himself of the same thing. It had to be. He knew they could not try again. |
| 871 |
She was no longer sure what they shared, but whatever it was, they hid it behind the mask of friendship for two months. It was comfortable for them. It was a rainy Saturday afternoon when the children were with Andy in Connecticut, when Joe came by unexpectedly to lend her a book they had talked about the week before. |
| 872 |
She thanked him, and offered him a cup of tea. It wasn't all he wanted from her, but he had no idea how to walk across the bridge from friendship to something new. They both knew that they could no longer go back to where they once had been. If they ventured forth at all, it had to be to a different place. |
| 873 |
But he did trust her now. She knew him better than she ever had during their entire marriage. He was safe with her finally and she with him. And they both knew it. They had never stopped loving each other. The only frightening thought, to both of them, was how close they had come to losing each other. |
| 874 |
He spent the weekend with her, and when the kids came home, they were happy to find him there. The rest slid quietly into place again, as though he had never left. He had sold their apartment in New York months before, and he moved into her house for a while, and eventually they bought a house together, and moved in. |
| 875 |
But Kate didn't mind. They talked on the phone, and she was happy, just as she had known she would be. And so was he. This time, it worked, and felt like a miracle to them. And when they had arguments, they were roaring ones, but like fireworks they lit up the sky and were forgotten quickly afterward. |
| 876 |
Kate traveled with him, but she was always comfortable at home. There were no more demons in her life. They had slain their dragons long before, but not without considerable grief for both of them. The early years had taken a toll on them for a time, but in the end it made them both grateful for what they had learned. |
| 877 |
She had learned not to pull on him, not to entangle him, not to bring up the ghosts of his past, rattle the sabers of guilt at him. And proud bird that he was, he flew down from his skies and came as close as he could to Kate. In their later years, it was close enough for her, and all she wanted or needed from him. |
| 878 |
The storm had raged, and the house they had built stood strong. Joe and Kate understood each other, as few people did. It was ultimately the pearl of great price that people search a lifetime for. They had found each other and lost each other, and found each other again, in a dozen ways, a dozen times. |
| 879 |
The miracle was that they had been given one last chance. One final, final chance, and there was no doubt in either of their minds, right to the end, that they had won, or how lucky they had been. They had come so close to losing everything, and their last chance had been the right one finally. For both of them. |
| 880 |
She had still understood so little about him then. She could have painted a portrait of him now in rainbow hues. She knew him better than she had known anyone. It was inconceivable to her that he was gone. As she stepped out of the car with Reed and Stephanie, she felt panic begin to clutch her soul. |
| 881 |
They had been given a reprieve seventeen years before, halfway through the time they'd shared. She had almost lost him then. And if she had, her life would have been so different for all these years. Two lives forever changed. Even Joe had acknowledged more than once that it would have been a terrible loss to them. |
| 882 |
And Kate had caught a glimpse of Lindbergh's widow Anne, as she walked in, wearing a black suit and a hat, still in deep mourning herself. Joe had spoken at Charles's funeral only four months before. It seemed a strange irony that the two greatest pilots of all time had died within months of each other. |
| 883 |
They said all the things Joe would have wanted said about him. But Kate was the only one in his life who had ever truly known Joe. He was the only man she had ever really loved. And for all the pain they'd caused each other in the early years, they had shared a life finally that had brought them both immeasurable joy. |
| 884 |
Kate had wanted to be there with them alone, and with her memories of Joe. Because of the explosion, they were burying an empty casket. It was a final gesture of respect, as a minister said a brief blessing and then left. And in kindness to her, Stephanie and Reed walked back to the limousine and left her alone. |
| 885 |
Where would she go? How would she live without seeing him again? It was like being a child again when they had buried her father, and she could feel ancient wounds coming to life again. She stood there for a long time, thinking about Joe, and then it was as though she could sense him standing next to her. |
| 886 |
There had been a lot of miracles in their life together, and he had been the best of them. And she knew, as she stood there, that he had taken her heart with him. There would never be anyone in her life like Joe. He had taught her all of life's important lessons, healed all her wounds, as she had healed his. |
| 887 |
He had touched deep into her soul. He had taught her not only about love, but about freedom. He had taught her about letting go. When she loved him most, she had set him free, and eventually he had always come home. She knew as she stood there that this was his final freedom, his last flight away from her. |
| 888 |
And in doing so, he would never leave her, just as he really hadn't left her before. He had come home to her, flown away, and come back again. And even when he was gone, he loved her, just as he loved her now, and she loved him. It had become a love that was strong and sure, and needed no promises or words. |
| 889 |
She would remember everything he had taught her, all of life's most valuable lessons. He had given her all she needed now to live on without him. And he had taught her well. They had learned each other to perfection, loved each other in just the way that worked for them. What she'd had of him, she took with her. |
| 890 |
The sounds of the organ music drifted up to the Wedgwood blue sky. Birds sang in the trees, and in the distance, a child called out to a friend on a lazy summer morning. The voices inside the church rose in powerful unison, as they sang the familiar hymns that Grace had sung with her family since childhood. |
| 891 |
She could barely move, as she stood, staring straight ahead at her mother's casket. Everyone knew Ellen Adams had been a good mother, a good wife, a respected citizen until she died. She had taught school before Grace was born, and she would have liked to have had more children, but it just hadn't happened. |
| 892 |
Her health had always been frail, and at thirty eight she had gotten cancer. The cancer started in her uterus, and after a hysterectomy, she'd had both chemotherapy and radiation. But the cancer spread to her lungs anyway, and her lymph nodes, and eventually her bones. It had been a four and a half year battle. |
| 893 |
And at night, it was Grace who went to her when she called out in pain, helped her turn, carried her to the bathroom, or gave her medication. The nurses only worked in the daytime. Her father didn't want them there at night, and everyone realized he had a hard time accepting just how sick his wife was. |
| 894 |
It was a small, immaculately kept town, filled with profoundly decent people. And he handled all their legal needs, and listened to all their problems. He went through their divorces with them, or battles over property, bringing peace to warring members of families. He was always fair, and everyone liked him for it. |
| 895 |
Other than the town's most popular medical practitioner, who was a friend of his too, John Adams was one of the most loved and respected men in Watseka. John Adams had been the town's football star as a young man, and he had gone on to play in college. Even as a boy, people had been crazy about him. |
| 896 |
She was a pretty girl, or she would have been, if she'd allowed herself to be. At seventeen, she was lean and tall, with graceful shoulders and long thin arms, beautiful long legs, and a tiny waist and full bust. But she always hid her figure in baggy clothes, and long loose sweaters she bought at the Salvation Army. |
| 897 |
She never seemed to look straight at anyone, or be inclined to engage them in conversation. Most people were surprised by how pretty she was, if they really looked at her, but if you didn't look twice, you never noticed her at all. Even today, she was wearing an old dreary black dress of her mother's. |
| 898 |
They'd been through so much. People commented from time to time on how shy Grace was, and how uncommunicative. There had been a rumor a few years back that she might even be retarded, but anyone who had ever gone to school with her knew that that was a lie. She was brighter than most of them, she just didn't say much. |
| 899 |
She was a solitary soul, and it was only once in a while that someone in school would see her talking to someone, or laughing in a corridor, but then she would hurry away again, as though she was frightened to come out and be among them. She wasn't crazy, her classmates knew, but she wasn't friendly either. |
| 900 |
And more than once as a child, she had had to go home from school with a bad attack of asthma. John and Grace stood out in the noon sun for a little while, shaking hands with friends, thanking them for being there, embracing them, and more than ever, Grace looked wooden and removed as she greeted them. |
| 901 |
It was a Cadillac, and some of the kids had rented it for the senior prom two months before, but Grace hadn't wanted to go, and no one had asked her. With her mother so sick, she had barely even wanted to go to graduation. But she had, of course, and she had shown her mother the diploma as soon as she got home. |
| 902 |
People had been bringing them food for days. And Grace had cooked a turkey and a roast the night before. Mrs. Johnson had brought them a ham, and there were salads, and casseroles, some sausages, two plates of hors d'oeuvres, and lots of fresh vegetables, and every imaginable kind of cake and pastry. |
| 903 |
She was sure that they were going to be seeing well over a hundred people, maybe even twice that many, out of respect for John and what he meant to the people of Watseka. People's kindness had been staggering. The sheer number of floral arrangements alone had surpassed anything they'd ever seen at the funeral home. |
| 904 |
That was just the way she was, he accepted it, and it was easier not to argue about it. She was good about other things, and she had been a godsend for him during all the years of her mother's illness. It was going to be strange for both of them now, but in a way, he had to admit, it was going to be easier now too. |
| 905 |
He had done a lot for many of them over the years, and now they were there, in their hour of need, for him, and his daughter. He watched Grace moving quietly around the living room, and he realized how alone they were now. Ellen was gone, the nurses were gone, there was no one left except just the two of them. |
| 906 |
If she'd been aware of such things, she would have seen that her father looked more handsome than ever. Others had noticed it. He had lost some weight in the last few weeks, understandably, and he looked as trim as a young man, and in the sunlight it was difficult to see if his hair was gray or sandy. |
| 907 |
In fact, it was both, and his eyes were the same bright blue as his daughter's. "You must be tired," he said to her, and she shrugged as she loaded glasses and plates into the dishwasher. There was a lump in her throat and she was trying not to cry. It had been an awful day for her... an awful year. |
| 908 |
All the food was put away, and the kitchen looked impeccable. The dishes were in the machine, and the living room looked tidy and spotless. She was well organized and she bustled through the house straightening furniture and pictures. It was a way of keeping her mind off everything that had happened. |
| 909 |
She'd gotten food on the black dress by then, and she'd splashed it with soap and water when she did the dishes. Her hair felt like string, her mouth like cotton, her heart like lead. She closed her eyes, as she lay there miserably, and two little rivers of tears flowed from the outer corners of her eyes to her ears. |
| 910 |
But there was no reason to stay here now. There was every reason to leave, which was all she wanted. She heard her father open his door and go out into the hall. He called her name, and she didn't answer him. She was too tired to speak to anyone, even him, as she lay on her bed, crying for her mother. |
| 911 |
She ran a hot bath almost to the edge of the tub, and she went to lock her bedroom door, before she took off her mother's tired black dress, and let it fall to the floor around her feet, after she kicked her mother's shoes off. She let herself slowly into the tub, and closed her eyes as she lay there. |
| 912 |
There were no images, no people she wanted to see in her mind's eye, nothing she wanted to do, or be. She just wanted to hang in space and think of absolutely nothing. She knew she'd been there for a long time when the water had grown cold, and she heard her father knocking on the door to her bedroom. |
| 913 |
And over that, she put on one of her baggy sweaters, in spite of the heat. And when she was all dressed again, she unlocked the door, and went back to unload the dishwasher in the kitchen. He was standing there, looking out at her mother's roses, and he turned when Grace came into the room, and smiled at her. |
| 914 |
She knew him too well. He never gave up on anything that easily, and she knew he wouldn't now. A moment later, he was back, and she heard an implement of some kind jimmy the lock, and an instant later, he was standing in her room, bare chested and barefoot, with only his trousers on, and a look of annoyance. |
| 915 |
Before that, he had beaten her, and Grace had listened to it, night after night, in her bedroom, sobbing, and listening to them, and in the morning, her mother would try to explain the bruises, talking about how she had fallen, or walked right into the bathroom door, or slipped, but it was no secret. |
| 916 |
He would have beaten Grace, too, except that Ellen never let him. Instead, she had offered herself up, time after time, for his beatings, and told Grace to lock the door to her room. Twice, Ellen had miscarried because of the beatings, the last time at six months, and after that, there had been no more children. |
| 917 |
Her parents had been dirt poor, and she hadn't even finished high school. She was a beautiful girl, but she knew that without John, she didn't have a chance in the world. That was what he told her, and she believed him. Her own father had beaten her too, and at first what John did, didn't seem so unusual or so awful. |
| 918 |
But they didn't wait to hear her answer. That night, they came into her room, and her mother helped him. She held her down, and crooned to her, and told her what a good girl she was, and how much they loved her. And afterwards, when they went back to their room, John held Ellen in his arms and thanked her. |
| 919 |
She never told anyone, and eventually her mother stopped coming into the room with him. Grace knew what was expected of her, and that she had no choice except to do it. And when she argued with him, he'd hit her hard, and eventually she knew there was no way out, no choice. She did it for her, not for him. |
| 920 |
But anytime Grace didn't cooperate with him, or do everything he asked, he went back to his own room and beat up her mother, no matter how sick she was, or how much pain she was in. It was a message that Grace always understood, and she would run shrieking into their room, and swear that she'd do anything he wanted. |
| 921 |
And over and over and over again, he made her prove it. For over four years now, he had done everything he could dream of with her, she was his very own love slave, his daughter. And the only thing her mother had done to protect Grace from him was get birth control pills for her so she wouldn't get pregnant. |
| 922 |
She was always sure they'd know, that they'd see something on her face, or her body, like a sign, like a malignancy that, unlike her mother, she wore on the outside. The malignancy was his, but she never really understood that. Until now. Now she knew that with her mother gone, she didn't have to do this. |
| 923 |
Not even for her mother. It was too much... and especially in this room. He had always come to Grace's room, and forced her to let him in. He had never dared take her in his own room. But now it was as though he expected her to step right into her mother's shoes, and fill them in ways that even her mother never could. |
| 924 |
She knew that she was within an inch of falling off the edge of a dangerous ledge, and suddenly as she fought and clawed at him, she knew through the blur that she was fighting for her survival. And then, without even knowing how she had remembered it, she knew that they had rolled closer to her mother's night table. |
| 925 |
She had to stop him, no matter what or how, she knew she had to stop him before it went any further. She couldn't survive this again. And tonight only told her that he intended this to be her fate for a lifetime. He wouldn't let her go anywhere, he would never let her leave or go to college, or do anything else. |
| 926 |
He wanted to take her and turn her inside out, tear her limb from limb, and devour her. Nothing excited him more than his own flesh, it was deeply primeval. And he was outraged now that she was still going to fight him. He moved to grab the gun from her, and she could see what he was going to do to her. |
| 927 |
He was going to beat her again and beating her always aroused him further. She couldn't let him do it, couldn't let him take her ever again. She had to save herself from him. He was still inside her, as he reached over to grab the gun from her, and in panic she squeezed the trigger as he tried to take it. |
| 928 |
His eyes moved around the room, but he seemed to be paralyzed, nothing moved, as he stared at her in terror. She backed into the corner then, and looked at him, and as she did, her whole body shook violently and she threw up on the carpet. When she stopped, she forced herself to go to the phone, and dial the operator. |
| 929 |
He hadn't moved since he'd fallen back on the bed, and his organ was limp now. The thing that had so terrified her, that had tortured her for so long, looked suddenly so small and harmless, as did he. He looked terrifying and pathetic, blood was bubbling from his throat, and he moaned from time to time. |
| 930 |
She seemed crazy. She had been to hell and only halfway back. Her father was still alive when the ambulance and the paramedics came, but barely. She had severed his spinal cord and the paramedics suspected that the bullet had gone into his lung after that. He was completely paralyzed, and couldn't speak to them. |
| 931 |
What was the deal here? He wondered too if she was on drugs, and he wanted her tested. She didn't ask if they were arresting her. She didn't ask anything. And she didn't get dressed either. She seemed completely disoriented, which was what suggested to the officer in charge more and more clearly that she was crazy. |
| 932 |
She had been two or three years old, and both of them were smiling. Grace looked at it for a long time, remembering what her mother had looked like, how pretty she had been, and how much she wanted of Grace. Too much. She wanted to tell her she was sorry now. She just couldn't do it. She had let her mother down. |
| 933 |
It was hard to say. God only knew what she'd really been up to. When Grace stepped outside in the night air, the front lawn was swarming with policemen. There were seven squad cars parked outside, most of them had come just to see what had happened, some were responsible for checking out the crime scene. |
| 934 |
She wasn't particularly sympathetic to her. She'd seen girls like her before, druggies, or fakes who pretended to be out of it so they wouldn't get blamed for what they'd done. She'd seen a fifteen year old who'd killed her entire family, and then claimed that voices on television had made her do it. |
| 935 |
For all she knew, Grace was a smart little bitch pretending she was crazy. But something about her told the officer that this one might be for real, maybe not crazy, but something was wrong with her. And she kept gulping air, as though she couldn't catch her breath. Something was definitely odd about the girl. |
| 936 |
The place was noisy and filthy, and all of the women in her cell were lying on bare mattresses and covered with blankets. Two were awake, but no one was talking. No one said a word as she was uncuffed, handed a blanket, and went to sit on the only unoccupied bunk in the small cell. She looked around her in disbelief. |
| 937 |
Would she get the death penalty? She couldn't forget what the booking officer had told her. She was being charged as an adult, and accused of murder. Maybe the death penalty was the price she had to pay. And if it was, she'd pay it. At least he could never touch her again, he couldn't hurt her anymore. |
| 938 |
She'd been there for three hours by then, and she hadn't slept all night, but she didn't feel as disembodied as she had the night before. She knew what was happening. She remembered shooting her father. And she knew he had died, and why. She knew that better than anything else. And she wasn't sorry. |
| 939 |
They put her in it without explanation. There was a table, four chairs, and a bright light overhead. She stood there, and five minutes later, the door at the other end of the room opened. A tall blond woman walked in. She looked cool as she glanced at Grace, and waited for a moment as she watched her. |
| 940 |
But she wasn't going to lie to her. She would tell her the truth in answer to anything she asked, as long as she didn't ask too much about her father. That was nobody's business. She owed it to him not to expose him, and to her mother, not to embarrass them. What difference did it make now anyway? He was gone. |
| 941 |
She was hiding something, but she wasn't sure what. She wasn't sure if it was something damaging to herself, or her father. And it wasn't the psychiatrist's job to unearth the answers as to her innocence or guilt. But it was up to her to determine if the girl was sane or not, and knew what she was doing. |
| 942 |
She was much too pushy. There was a relentlessness about her questions, and a look of intelligence in her eyes that worried Grace. She would see too much, understand too much. And she had no right to know. It was no one's business what her father had done to her all these years, she didn't want anyone to know. |
| 943 |
That was the question that was gnawing at Molly. This was not some bad kid who had just blown away her old man. This was a bright girl, with a sharp mind, who was pretending that she had no idea why she had shot him. It was so aggravating to listen to her say it again that Molly would have liked to kick the table. |
| 944 |
They didn't even talk to her. They just chatted to each other about the prisoners they'd transferred the day before, and the movie they were going to see that night, and the vacation one of them was saving up for in Colorado. And Grace was just as glad. She didn't have anything to say to them anyway. |
| 945 |
He made a lot of notes, and put fingers into her at least four or five times, shining a light so close to her that she could feel it warm her bottom. Then he in serted an instrument into her, and did all the same things again. This time he took a smear and made a slide, which he set carefully on a tray on the table. |
| 946 |
You have to do everything you can to save yourself. I'm not telling you to lie, I'm telling you to tell the truth, Grace. If he raped you, if he hurt you, if you were abused, then there were extenuating circumstances. It could reduce the charges to manslaughter or even self defense, and it changes everything. |
| 947 |
Molly left her that night with a heavy heart. She knew exactly what was going on, and she couldn't seem to bridge the gap with Grace. She had worked with abused children and wives for years, and all their loyalty was always to their abusers. It took everything she had to break that bond, but usually she was successful. |
| 948 |
Molly was getting nowhere. She stopped in the detective's office to look at the hospital report and the Polaroids again, and it made her feel sick when she saw them. Stan Dooley came in while she was reading the report, and he was surprised to see her still at work, fourteen hours after she had started. |
| 949 |
Simple as that. And you want to know what I think, with all your exams, and fancy theories? I think probably she went out and got laid that night after her mother's funeral, and her old man thought it wasn't right. So she came home and he gave her hell, and she didn't like it, got pissed off, and killed him. |
| 950 |
And the fact that he was jacking off in bed is pure coincidence. You can't take a guy that the whole community knows as a good guy and convince anyone that he raped his daughter and she shot him in self defense. As a matter of fact, I talked to his partner today, and he said pretty much the same thing I did. |
| 951 |
The idea that John Adams would do anything to harm his child, and I didn't even say what you thought it might have been, horrified him. He said the guy adored his wife, and his kid. He said he lived for them, never cheated on his wife, spent every night with them, and was devoted to his wife till the day she died. |
| 952 |
And he doesn't want to take responsibility for her. He's a bachelor, and he's not prepared to take her in. He said he didn't feel right defending her. Said he just couldn't and we should get a public defender for her. I can't say that I blame him. He was obviously pretty upset about losing his partner. |
| 953 |
She was a pretty girl, but more importantly, she was good at what she did. Even the cops she knew admitted that she was smart, and a pretty good shrink, even if she did come up with some pretty wild theories. Later, when Molly called Frank Wills from home that night, she was shocked by his callousness. |
| 954 |
She and Richard Haverson had lived together for two years, and talked from time to time about getting married, but somehow they never did. But they got on well, and were familiar with each other's work. For both of them, it was the perfect arrangement. And he was as tall and lanky and blond and good looking as she was. |
| 955 |
I wish I could get her to tell me what really happened. I mean, hell, she didn't just wake up in the middle of the night, find a gun in her hand and decide to shoot him. They found her nightgown torn in half on the floor, but she wouldn't explain that either. All the evidence is there, for God's sake. |
| 956 |
I think he raped her that night, and I think he'd done it before, maybe even for a long time, and maybe without her mother there, she'd lost her only protection and she panicked. He did it again, and this time she lost it and shot him. He had to be right on top of her for her to shoot him at that range. |
| 957 |
No one wants to believe that the guy might have been sleeping with his own daughter, or worse, forcing her. Maybe he held the gun on her, for all we know, and she got it away from him. But something has gone on in that girl's life, and she just won't tell me. She has no friends, no life outside of school. |
| 958 |
He also says there's no money left, because of the mother's illness. Just the house, and the law practice. And he might just inherit all of it, now that she can't, and he claims her father owed him quite a bit of money. He's not offering ten cents to help in her defense, which is why I came to see you. |
| 959 |
She was immensely relieved to think that he might be Grace's attorney. It was the best thing that could possibly happen to her. If there was any chance of saving her at all, David Glass would find a way to do it. Molly didn't have time to call him back until after two o'clock and when she did, he was out of the office. |
| 960 |
They're holding to the theory that it was premeditated, or at the very least that they had a fight, she got mad, had a tantrum and killed him. According to them, it's all very simple. Murder one, at worst. Murder two, at best. Anywhere from twenty to life, or the death penalty if they get really crazy. |
| 961 |
There's no evidence that he attacked her or endangered her life, unless your rape theories turn out to be correct. Give me a chance, kid. They only assigned me the case two hours ago, and I haven't even met her yet. They postponed the arraignment till I could see her at least. It's at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. |
| 962 |
They were led into the attorneys' room, with the two separate doors, and the table and four chairs. It was where Molly had met Grace before and at least it would be familiar to her. They sat down for a few minutes and waited for her. David lit a cigarette and offered one to Molly but she declined it. |
| 963 |
All she had was what she had worn the night she had killed her father and been arrested. He watched her carefully as she entered the room, she was tall and thin and graceful, and in some ways she looked young and shy, but when she turned to look at him, he saw that her eyes were a dozen years older. |
| 964 |
She had spent four hours with the police that day, answering questions, and she was exhausted. They had advised her that she had the right to have an attorney present at the questioning but she had already admitted to shooting her father, and didn't think there was any harm in answering their questions. |
| 965 |
She had read the papers that day, the front page and several articles were devoted to stories about the murder, about her father's admirable life, his law practice, and what he had meant to so many. It said relatively little about her, except that she was seventeen, went to Jefferson High, and had killed him. |
| 966 |
But now the big question was if he could convince a jury that Grace had been defending herself after four years of hell at her father's hands. Molly hadn't been able to convince the police, they were too sold on John Adams's public image, He couldn't help wondering if a jury would suffer from the same delusions. |
| 967 |
The judge refused to set bail, which was irrelevant anyway, because there would have been no one to pay it. And David became the attorney of record. And for the next several days, David did everything he could to try to convince her to tell the police that her father had raped her, had been for years. |
| 968 |
But she just wouldn't. And after two incredibly frustrating weeks, he threatened to throw in the towel. Molly was still visiting her frequently, on her own time now. Her report for the court had already been completed. She had judged Grace to be sane, and fully competent to stand trial, in her opinion. |
| 969 |
People's reactions ranged from mild surprise to total outrage at the suggestion, and absolutely no one thought him capable of it, and they said so. Instead they thought it was a crazy theory invented by the defense to justify what many of them referred to as Grace's cold blooded killing of her father. |
| 970 |
Several of them had mentioned the severe asthma that had only begun to affect her at the onset of her mother's illness. Oddly enough, it didn't surprise any of them that she had done something so outrageous. They thought she was strange, and she had obviously "snapped," as they put it, when her mom died. |
| 971 |
They would show up at the jail, and ask for interviews. And now and then the guards would let them in to take her picture. The reporters would slip them a crisp bill or two and the next thing she knew they were outside her cell, with their flashbulbs. Once they even got a picture of her on the toilet. |
| 972 |
She felt she had betrayed herself, and her parents, but David had convinced her it was her only hope to stay out of prison or worse, the death penalty. And even that hadn't worked. She was resigning herself to a life in prison by then, and she still wondered if she would get the death sentence in the end. |
| 973 |
He was still sure he could convince a jury that she killed her father to stop him from raping her, or even killing her. She was young, she was beautiful, she was vulnerable, and she was telling the truth, which had an undeniable ring to it. To David and Molly, there was absolutely no doubt about her story. |
| 974 |
The selection of the jurors took a full week, and because of the seriousness of the case, and based on an impassioned petition from David, the judge agreed to sequester the jury. The judge himself was a crusty old man, who shouted at everyone from the bench, and had frequently played golf with her father. |
| 975 |
The prosecution presented their case, and it was powerfully damning. According to them, she had planned to kill her father the night of her mother's funeral, to inherit what little they had left before he could spend it, or remarry. She had had no idea that she could never inherit from him if she killed him. |
| 976 |
She had killed her father, admittedly. And Frank Wills was a convincing witness. The prosecution eventually rested their case, and then it was David's turn to bring witnesses forward to testify about her character and her behavior. But there were so few people who knew her, a few teachers, some old friends. |
| 977 |
Most people said she was shy and withdrawn, and David explained exactiy why that was, she was hiding a dark secret at home, and living a life of terror. And then he put the resident who had examined her at Mercy General on the stand. He explained in graphic detail the extent of the damage when he'd seen her. |
| 978 |
And when they got tired of it, they walked the halls for hours, with a guard walking quietly behind them. Grace was so used to handcuffs now, she hardly noticed when they put them on, except when they put them on too tightly on purpose. That usually happened with deputies who had known and liked her father. |
| 979 |
David had addressed them powerfully, and demanded justice in the form of a verdict of "defense with the use of justifiable force" for this innocent young girl who had suffered so much and lived a life of torture at the hands of her parents. He had made her tell all of it to the jury. That was her only hope now. |
| 980 |
Voluntary manslaughter carried a sentence of up to twenty years, at the judge's discretion. And in the end, because of her extreme youth, and the fact that Grace herself had believed it to be both a crime of passion and of justifiable defense, the judge gave her two years in prison, and two years probation. |
| 981 |
Molly had been bringing things like that to her, and Frank Wills had reluctantly agreed to give her a few hundred dollars of her father's money, when David asked him. But in jail, the women came and went in a few days, and she never felt truly in danger. She was there the longest by far, and on the worst charges. |
| 982 |
There was so little she could say to her, but she didn't want Grace to give up hope. One day, there would be a new life for her. If she could just hold on till she got there. David had been to see her too, and he was beside himself over the verdict. He blamed himself for failing her, but Grace didn't blame him. |
| 983 |
He was already making plans to move into their home in the coming weeks, and he told David he didn't want her to know that. As far as he was concerned, it was none of her business. He wanted no trouble from her, and he was planning to keep all of their possessions, and all of the house's furniture and contents. |
| 984 |
He had already thrown most of Grace's things away, and all he was offering her was the fifty thousand in exchange for staying away forever. He didn't want any hassles or arguments with her later. David had agreed on her behalf, knowing that one day, when she was free again, she'd have good use for the money. |
| 985 |
If she could just hang on, and stay as safe as possible in prison. But they all knew that wouldn't be easy. She had to be strong. She had no choice now. But she had been strong for so long, and at times she wished she hadn't survived it. Being dead had to be easier than what she'd been through, and going to prison. |
| 986 |
Molly would have given anything to change things for her, but there just wasn't any more she could do now. All she could do was offer her love and support and friendship. She and David had both grown extremely fond of Grace. They talked about her for hours sometimes, and the injustice of all she'd been through. |
| 987 |
She was that kind of person, there was something beautiful and strong hidden deep inside her, and it drew him toward her like a magnet. But knowing all she'd been through, and how young she was, he couldn't allow his feelings to run wild, and he had to force himself to think of her as a little sister. |
| 988 |
Just before they led her away, she gently touched his arm, and for an odd instant, as he looked at her, he thought there was something almost saintly about her. She had accepted her fate, and her destiny. And she looked dignified beyond her years, and strangely beautiful as they led her away in handcuffs. |
| 989 |
There was no one to say goodbye to her, to wish her well. Molly had come the night before, and David that morning before she left, and the guards watched her leave without a word. She'd been no trouble for them, but she was just another convict to them, a face they would soon forget, in a daily lineup of felons. |
| 990 |
And she hadn't gotten away with it. They thought she'd been lucky to get convicted of manslaughter instead of murder. But luck wasn't something Grace had seen a lot of. The ride to Dwight took an hour and a half from Watseka, and the bus bounced along, as her chains ratded and her ankles and wrists ached. |
| 991 |
She was almost what she appeared to be, a very young girl who didn't belong here. What the other girl couldn't see was how much she had suffered to get there. But nothing showed on Grace's face as she looked at her, it was as though the last of her soul had been boarded up when she left David and Molly. |
| 992 |
She intended to keep it that way, and with luck, they would leave her alone once she got to prison. She had heard hideous stories about rape and stab bings while she was in jail, but she forced herself not to think of that now. If she had lived through the last four years, she could make it through the next two. |
| 993 |
She'd already heard that there were courses you could take, other than beauty school and learning to make brooms and license plates, which was somewhat less useful. If there was any chance at all, Grace wanted to take correspondence courses from a local college. "I don't know what I'll do," the other girl said. |
| 994 |
It reminded her of the afternoons when she'd come home and knew what was in store for her that night. She would have done anything not to come home, but she knew she had to take care of her mother, and then she knew what would happen. It was as inevitable as the setting sun. There had been no escaping it. |
| 995 |
Yet there was still an aura of menace. The guards were armed, there were signs everywhere warning of danger or penalties or punishments, for escaping, or assaulting a guard, or breaking the rules. And the prisoners coming in with her looked like a rough group, particularly in what was left of their street clothes. |
| 996 |
She was surprised when the whistle blew again, and they told them all to take everything out of their hair, any rubber bands or bobby pins. They were to let their hair loose, and as she slipped the rubber band off her long ponytail, her dark auburn hair fell in a silken sheet well past her shoulders. |
| 997 |
And in a few minutes, all their clothes were in little piles on the floor, along with their jewelry, their glasses, their hair accessories. They were stripped entirely naked, as six guards walked among them, examining them, telling them to stand with their legs apart, their arms high, and their mouths open. |
| 998 |
They led them to a shower room then, and literally hosed them down with near boiling water. They used insecticides on any area with hair, and sprayed lice shampoo on them, and then hosed them down again. At the end of it, they reeked of chemicals and Grace felt as though she'd been boiled in disinfectants. |
| 999 |
Like Grace, the other girl had been accused of murder, she had plea bargained it down to manslaughter and saved herself from the death penalty. She had killed her brother, after he'd raped her. But now she wanted to go to school and get out of the ghetto. "You've had enough school," the woman standing next to her said. |
| 1000 |
There were cutouts from Playboy and Hustler and magazines Grace couldn't imagine that women would read, but they did here. Or at least, her roommate did. The lower bunk was neatly made, and with shaking hands, she set about making the top bunk, and put her toothbrush on a little ledge with a paper cup they'd given her. |
| 1001 |
She'd been told that she had to buy her own cigarettes and toothpaste. But she didn't smoke anyway, she couldn't with her asthma. When the bed was made, she climbed up and sat on it, and she just sat there, staring at the door, wondering what would happen next, or how bad it would be when she met her roommate. |
| 1002 |
Her chest had been getting tighter and tighter since that morning, and by dinnertime, she could hardly breathe. She was wheezing badly and they had taken her inhaler away from her when she arrived. "You need help, you call a guard," she'd been told, but she didn't want to do that unless she really had to. |
| 1003 |
Sally was known to be one of the hardest women in the prison. She didn't take shit from anyone, and she was in for two counts of murder. She had murdered her girlfriend on the outside, and the woman she'd been cheating with. "It lets people know how I think," she always explained to the women she was involved with. |
| 1004 |
She didn't know that the older woman felt sorry for her. It was obvious even to her that Grace didn't belong there. Five minutes later, she left Grace with the nurse, as she continued to gasp for air. The nurse gave her oxygen, and finally relented and decided to let her have, and keep, her inhaler. |
| 1005 |
But this time, they had to give her some other medication as well, because the attack had gotten too far out of hand in the past half hour. Grace knew only too well that without her medicine, she could die from suffocation. But at this point, she wasn't totally convinced that that wouldn't be a blessing. |
| 1006 |
She arrived at dinner half an hour later, shaken and pale, and most of the edible food was gone, the rest was all grit and grease and bone, and the stuff no one had wanted. She wasn't hungry anyway, the asthma attack had made her feel sick, and the medicine always made her feel shaky. She was too upset to eat anyway. |
| 1007 |
They were showing a movie that night, but she had no interest in going. She just wanted to go back to her cell, and stay there until morning. She lay on her bunk, and heaved a sigh of relief. She had to use her inhaler two more times that night before she relaxed and felt like she could breathe again. |
| 1008 |
After two weeks, Grace knew her way around Dwight, and she had a job in the supply room, handing out towels and combs, and counting out toothbrushes for the new arrivals. Sally got her the job, although she pretended not to have any interest in helping Grace. But she seemed to keep an eye on her from a distance. |
| 1009 |
But Grace insisted that she was all right. And much to her own surprise, no one had really bothered her. They called her a fish whenever they got the chance, and Brenda had stopped to talk to her again once or twice at chow, but it never went beyond that. She hadn't even tweaked Grace's breast again. |
| 1010 |
And she was in pretty good spirits when David saw her, which reassured him. He hated her being there, and he felt more than ever that she didn't belong there, but at least nothing untoward had happened to her, and she insisted that she wasn't in any danger. It was something to be cheered about at least. |
| 1011 |
She held herself straight, and she was thinner than she had ever been. She looked beautiful and neat and clean, and it was hard to believe, looking at her, that she was an inmate in a prison. She looked like a college girl, or a cheerleader. She looked like someone's really good looking wholesome little sister. |
| 1012 |
But she didn't say that. The last thing she wanted was to offend Brenda. She had already gathered from others that Brenda was considered bad news. She was involved with one of the gangs, and the rumor was that she not only did drugs, but sold them, and one of these days, she was going to get in a whole lot of trouble. |
| 1013 |
She touched the inhaler in her pocket and was reassured to know it was close at hand. Sometimes just knowing that it was there made her breathing easier. There were movies again that night, and Sally went out again. Her one weakness in life, other than pinups, seemed to be movies. The more violent the better. |
| 1014 |
Nothing in her life had prepared her for this, not even her father. She was breathless as she hopped off her bunk, still clutching her pen and her letter in her hand. And then, with a smooth gesture, she turned, as though to set it down, and as she did, and left the paper on Sally's bunk, she wrote one small word. |
| 1015 |
She knew nothing of women like them. She was surprised when they didn't take her to their cell, but walked past the gym instead, and then outdoors, as though they wanted to get some air. The guards were watching them, but the guards saw nothing untoward about three women going for a walk outside before lockdown. |
| 1016 |
A lot of the women did that to get some air, or have a smoke, or just relax before they went to bed. And Brenda joked with the guards as they walked by them. Jane stayed close to Grace. The knife in her hand out of sight, but held close to Grace's neck, as she draped an arm casually over her shoulder. |
| 1017 |
Brenda had a key to it, and the moment she opened the door, the threesome disappeared inside. There were four more women in there, leaning against the machinery that was stored, smoking cigarettes, and holding a single flashlight. It was the perfect place for anything they wanted to do to her, even kill her. |
| 1018 |
Two women tied her arms to the heavy machines, then they yanked off her pants and her underwear and threw them aside as two more tied her legs, as the last two sat on them, and Jane managed to sit on one leg to keep her knife pressed into Grace's stomach. There was no point in fighting or screaming, and she knew it. |
| 1019 |
She had muscles almost like a man's and the long sinewy legs of an Olympic runner. She was the prison's female karate and boxing champ, and she was someone that no one wanted to mess with. Jane always swore she wasn't afraid of her, and she'd said more than once that she would have liked to carve her face off. |
| 1020 |
She had told Sally to watch out for her. The kid was so green she was liable to bring the house down. And Luana didn't pull any punches with her when they got back to the cell and Grace started crying. She also knew she didn't dare ask for another inhaler till the next day, and she was wheezing badly. |
| 1021 |
It was as though she didn't exist. She led a sort of charmed life, going her own way in the jungle, amidst the lions and the snakes and the alligators. And her only friends were Sally and Luana. She had gotten religious while she was there. And her asthma was troubling her less than it had in years. |
| 1022 |
It allowed her to accept the news philosophically when he told her that they had lost the appeal, and she would have to serve her full two year sentence. It had been exactly a year since her conviction, and David could barely bring himself to believe that they had lost again, but she took it very calmly. |
| 1023 |
It wasn't easy, but all she could do now was look forward. It touched him more than ever as he listened to her, but it pained him too. He found that he came to see her less often because seeing her always reminded him of all that he hadn't been able to accomplish for her. He still had an odd kind of obsession with her. |
| 1024 |
It made him feel helpless and angry and inadequate. Sometimes, he wondered if he had won the appeal for her, would things have been different? If, maybe then, he would have had the guts to tell her he loved her. But as things stood, he had never said it, and Grace never suspected his feelings for her. |
| 1025 |
There was no appeal. There was nothing he could do for her anymore, except be her friend. And his girlfriend kept telling him he had to get on with his own life. Grace missed seeing him, but she also understood that there was nothing he could do. And she knew that he was seeing someone who meant a lot to him. |
| 1026 |
In a strange way, they were like the parents she had never had. They protected her, they watched over her, they scolded her, and taught her the things she needed to know to survive there. And in a funny way, they loved her. She was just a kid to them, but there was hope for her. She could have a life someday. |
| 1027 |
They had careers, they had histories, they had mates. For Grace, it would all be a fresh beginning when she got out of prison. He stayed with her longer than usual that afternoon, and he promised he'd come back again before he left town, but when he said goodbye to her, Grace somehow knew that he wouldn't. |
| 1028 |
Grace had already promised to spend Thanksgiving with them, and maybe even Christmas. And on their wedding day, Grace sat in her cell most of the day, thinking about them, wishing them well, and knowing all their plans, all the details. She had seen photographs of the dress, she knew who would be there. |
| 1029 |
Her inhaler was familiar to everyone by now, and she no longer worried about using it. With Lu watching over her, no one was liable to take it from her, or steal it. But the nurse knew this time when she came to their cell that it wasn't asthma that was bothering her. Grace wouldn't even answer her. |
| 1030 |
The nurse had told her she had to go back to work the next day, and she was lucky they hadn't already sent her to the hole for not showing up at work for two days. But she was pushing her luck now. And the next day, she made no effort to get up, in spite of all of Sally and Luana's threats and pleas. |
| 1031 |
They had given her a hundred dollars cash when she left the correctional center. And David had set up a small checking account for her before he moved west. It had five thousand dollars in it, and the rest was in a savings account she had vowed not to touch. In Chicago, she had no idea where to stay, or where to go. |
| 1032 |
And no matter how seedy the neighborhood was, she was glad to be free. It meant everything to walk the streets again, to look up at the sky, to walk into a restaurant, a store, to buy a newspaper, a magazine, to ride a bus. She even took a tour of Chicago that night, and was stunned by how beautiful it was. |
| 1033 |
The prostitutes were still there, and the johns, but she paid no attention to them. She just took her key, and went upstairs. She locked her door, and read the papers she'd bought, looking for employment agencies. And the next day, with the newspaper in hand, she hit the streets and started looking. |
| 1034 |
Grace went to see her probation officer after that, and just seeing him was like a trip back to Dwight, or worse. It was incredibly depressing, and this time she didn't have Luana and Sally to protect her. Louis Marquez was a small, greasy man, with beady litde eyes, a severely receding hairline, and a mustache. |
| 1035 |
He had never seen anyone who looked like that in his office. Most of his time was spent with drug addicts, and prostitutes, and the occasional dealer. It was rare for him to handle juveniles, and rarer still to see someone with charges as major as hers, who looked like Grace, and seemed as young and wholesome. |
| 1036 |
She had bought herself a couple of skirts by then, a dark blue dress to go job hunting in, and a black suit with a pink satin collar. She was wearing the dark blue dress when she visited him, because she'd been out looking for work all day, and her feet were killing her from the high heels she was wearing. |
| 1037 |
He wasn't interested in doing a drug test. All he wanted to do was humiliate her and let her know that he could make her do anything he wanted. Grace was steaming when she took the bus back to her hotel. Louis Marquez represented everything she had been fighting all her life, and she wasn't going to give in to it now. |
| 1038 |
She checked the Yellow Pages that night for all the modeling agencies in town. She had liked the woman's suggestion to try them, but not for modeling. She thought maybe she could work as a receptionist, or someone in the office. She had a long list of places to try, and wished that she knew which one was the best one. |
| 1039 |
But she had no way of knowing. All she could do was try them. She got up at seven the next day, and she was still in her nightgown and brushing her teeth when she heard someone pounding on her door, and wondered who it could be. It had to be a hooker, or a john, maybe someone who had the wrong room. |
| 1040 |
And she had just called his bluff, and he knew it. Actually, she had surprised him. He had thought she would scare more easily, and he was more than a little disappointed. But it had been worth a try, and if she ever looked like she was weakening, he was going to pounce on her just like a little cockroach. |
| 1041 |
She wanted to look just right for the modeling agencies. She wanted to look cool and sure and well dressed, but not so flashy she competed with the models. The first two agencies told her they had no openings, and they hardly seemed to notice her at all, and her third stop was Swanson's on Lake Shore Drive. |
| 1042 |
She'd been at it for almost a week, and so far there was no hope yet. And she knew that if she didn't get a job by the following week, her probation officer really would give her trouble. "I hear you're interested in a job as a receptionist," Cheryl said, glancing at a note her secretary had given her. |
| 1043 |
Bob Swanson sized Grace up from behind his desk, and looked at her with a warm smile that really did make her feel part of the family, and then he got up and walked around his desk to shake her hand. He was about six feet four, very rugged looking with dark hair and blue eyes and movie star handsome. |
| 1044 |
She had a knack for organizing things, and she was willing to work long hours and do anything she had to, to get the job done. "Well, welcome aboard, Grace. Get to work." He sat back down at his desk again, waved at them both as they left, and sat staring at them going down the hall for a few minutes. |
| 1045 |
There was something interesting about the girl, he decided as he looked at her, but he wasn't sure what it was yet. He prided himself on having a sixth sense about people. Cheryl asked two of the secretaries to take Grace under their wings, and show her how the phone system worked, and the office machines. |
| 1046 |
Grace was always overwhelmed by how beautiful they were, and how exquisitely put together. They had fabulous hair, perfect nails, their makeup always looked like it had been done by professionals, and their clothes made her stare at them with envy. But she still had no desire to do the kind of work they did. |
| 1047 |
After everything she'd been through in her life, her survival had depended on her ability not to attract attention. And even at twenty, it was too late for her to change that now. She liked nothing better than not being the center of attention. But the models always included her in their conversations. |
| 1048 |
It sounded fabulous to her, but also way out of reach, they were talking about a thousand dollars. It had five bedrooms, though, and they only needed four. Maybe even fewer since one of them was thinking about getting married. "We need someone else to come in with us," a girl called Divina said, sounding disappointed. |
| 1049 |
Cheryl hadn't given up on that yet, but on the other hand, she had discovered that Grace's unfailing sense of organization was a godsend. The town house turned out to be spectacular. It had five good sized bedrooms, and three baths, a decent sized kitchen, a patio, and a sunken living room with a view of the lake. |
| 1050 |
Marjorie, one of her new roommates, had followed her outside. She had seen the emotional look on Grace's face, and she was worried. Marjorie was the mother hen of the group, and the others always teased her that she fussed over them too much. She was only twenty one, but she was the oldest of seven children. |
| 1051 |
If she hung on long enough, the ugliness of the past would be behind her forever. And now, finally, she was past it. She had sent Luana and Sally postcards only a few days before, telling them that she was okay and Chicago was great. But she knew them both well, and she suspected they'd never write her. |
| 1052 |
The group at the apartment got along splendidly. They never fought over bills, everyone paid their share of the rent, they were each nice to the other girls. They bought each other small gifts, and were generous with groceries. It was really the perfect arrangement. And Grace had never been happier in her life. |
| 1053 |
The girls even tried to fix her up with their friends, but she drew the line at that. Groceries were one thing, but gifts of men were of no interest. She had no desire to go out with anyone, or complicate her life. At twenty, she was perfectly content to stay home and read a book, or watch TV at night. |
| 1054 |
Every little freedom she had was a gift to her, and she wanted nothing more from life. Certainly not romance. Just the thought of it terrified her. She had no desire to go out with anyone, possibly ever. Her roommates teased her about it at first, and then eventually, they decided she had a secret life. |
| 1055 |
The women and children living in the crisis center needed medical care, psychological help, they needed a place to live, they needed clothes, they needed tender loving care, they needed a hand to get out of the abyss they were in. Even for Grace, going to St. Mary's every week was like a light shining in the darkness. |
| 1056 |
They were the victims of violence, and most of the time of abusive husbands. Many of them had been abused as children, too, and they were continuing to perpetuate the cycle for their own children, but they had no idea how to break it. That was what the loving staff at St. Mary's tried to teach them. |
| 1057 |
She worked with the women sometimes, and most of all, she loved the children. She'd gather them close to her, hold them on her lap, and tell them stories she made up, or read to them by the hour. She took them to clinics at night, to see the doctor for injuries they'd had, or just to get exams or shots. |
| 1058 |
Some of the women just couldn't stay away from the men who beat them, and when they went back, they took the children with them. Some were hurt, some were killed, some never recovered in ways that couldn't be seen. But some got it, some learned, some moved on to new lives and came to understand how to be healthy. |
| 1059 |
The only thing that bothered her was that Bob had danced with her several times, and she thought he held her a little too close, and once she couldn't have sworn to it, but she felt him brush her breast with his fingers as he reached for an hors d'oeuvre. She was sure it had been an accident and he hadn't even noticed. |
| 1060 |
He was thirty two years old, and he had never met anyone like her. She was bright, she was fun, she was deeply caring, and yet she was so shy and so distant. In some ways, she seemed very old fashioned and he liked that. "You ought to at least get to a movie." But he hadn't been to one in months either. |
| 1061 |
And afterwards, they and Paul sat in the patio, and she couldn't help thinking how far her life had come in the past year. He didn't know it, of course, but she had spent her last two birthdays in prison. And now she was here, with him, living with a bunch of beautiful girls, and working for a modeling agency. |
| 1062 |
And it made her sad when she realized that she was doing just what Luana had said she should. She was taking them out, like memories, touching them widi her heart from time to time, but only for a fleeting moment. And then she'd go back to her own life, and remember them briefly. But they were gone, all of them. |
| 1063 |
They'd never answered her letters. She looked up and saw a falling star, and without waiting, she closed her eyes, and thought about them, and then she made a wish that one day, it really all would be behind her. For the moment, Lou Marquez was still there, threatening to reveal her secrets to her friends. |
| 1064 |
She knew all of the girls who worked for them, and most of the men, and everyone liked her. Things were lively at the apartment too. Brigitte was back from Tokyo by then, but she had moved in with a photographer, instead of the girls at the town house. Allyson had gone to L.A. for a part in a movie. |
| 1065 |
He reeked of cigarettes and sweat, and every single piece of clothing he had was polyester. "Why don't you just tell him to get lost?" she said, shuddering, after he left. He made you want to take a bath every time you saw him. Grace would have liked nothing better than to tell him not to come to the house anymore. |
| 1066 |
She saw Paul Weinberg whenever she went, and she was very fond of him, but she also knew that he had given up waiting for her and was seriously involved with one of the nurses. Cheryl Swanson tried to fix her up with dates from time to time, but Grace continued to have no interest in that direction. |
| 1067 |
She recommended some rental agencies, and introduced him to some of the models as they came in. But he didn't seem particularly interested in them. He saw models constantly. It was Grace who really caught his eye, and before he left, he asked about photographing her, just for fun, but she laughed and shook her head. |
| 1068 |
He had been conscious all through dinner how cautious she was, how outwardly friendly, but inwardly guarded. "It's just something I want to do. It means a lot to me, especially working with the kids. They're so helpless, and so damaged by everything they've been through," just as she was, and she knew it. |
| 1069 |
They went out for drinks after dinner that night, to a place he'd discovered that had an old jukebox and fifties music. And on Sunday they went bicycling around the lake. It was a beautiful warm June afternoon and everything was blossoming. And in spite of all her warnings to herself, she loved being with him. |
| 1070 |
He was the first man she had ever even been kissed by, other than her father. And even that was frightening at first, but she had to admit, she liked it. But as usual, Marjorie was full of warnings when Grace came home after spending a Saturday afternoon with him three weeks after he'd come to town. |
| 1071 |
If there was one thing she had learned from her experiences, and working at the agency, it was people. "People always say stuff like that when they're jealous. She probably had the hots for him, and he didn't go for her so she's pissed off," Grace said matter of factly, annoyed that Marjorie was being so unfair to him. |
| 1072 |
What rotten things to say about poor Marcus. But their business was like that sometimes. People who didn't get jobs blamed photographers, and photographers who wanted to score and didn't said terrible things about models, claiming that they were drug addicts, or had come on to them. Models claimed they'd been raped. |
| 1073 |
He had never said a word about porno, and even as unattractive as that was, Grace knew instinctively that he would have. He was a very open, straightforward person, and he was very honest about confessing his faults and past sins to her. She had never trusted anyone in recent years as much as she trusted Marcus. |
| 1074 |
She liked working with the models at the agency, but she had never wanted to be one of them. It was really only for Marcus that she was doing it, and for fun. He made everything fun to do, as long as she did it with him. And the next Saturday she turned up promptly at ten o'clock, at the studio, as she'd promised. |
| 1075 |
She'd been at St. Mary's the night before, she'd worked late, and she was tired. He made her some coffee when she arrived, and he had already set up. There was a huge white leather chair, and a white fox throw covering part of it, and all he wanted was for her to sprawl on it in her jeans, and a white T shirt. |
| 1076 |
And she was surprised by how much fun it was. He took her in a thousand poses, he had great music on, and each shot was almost like a caress as he danced around her. They were still taking photographs at noon, and he handed her a glass of wine, and promised her a huge lunch of homemade pasta when she was finished. |
| 1077 |
The wine had really done her in, and suddenly she felt like throwing up and she was afraid to say it. Marcus was touching her then, and feeling places where no one had been in years, no one had ever been except her father. "I can't..." she said again. But she couldn't muster the strength to stop him. |
| 1078 |
And when she woke up, he was lying beside her on the huge white leather chair covered in the white fur, and he had all his clothes off. She was still wearing his shirt and her underwear, and he was smiling at her. And all she could feel was a sudden wave of terror. She couldn't remember anything except passing out. |
| 1079 |
She had found her jeans on the floor, and she pulled them on and then stood up unsteadily. She felt awful. And she turned away a moment later to take his shirt off and put her own on. She didn't even waste time putting her bra on. She felt too sick to worry about it. Her head was both pounding and reeling. |
| 1080 |
She remembered kissing him, and his saying things to her, and for some reason she remembered lying there with him, but she couldn't remember anything else. She kept hoping it was all a nightmare induced by too much wine on an empty stomach. She kept having flashes of him tantalizing her with his body. |
| 1081 |
He had taken advantage of her while she was out cold. He had gotten her to undress, almost nude, but not entirely, and had taken his own clothes off. It certainly didn't look like a wholesome scene when she woke up, but nor did she feel as though she'd been raped. She knew that would have been a familiar feeling. |
| 1082 |
He was standing at a table taking film out of his camera, and she wondered how she could have been so wrong. But then, standing there, looking at him, the room spun around again and she almost fainted. She wondered if she was coming down with the flu, or just upset over everything that had happened. |
| 1083 |
Pretty girls, in his life, were a dime a dozen. He never said a word to her as she left, and she practically crawled downstairs from his loft, hailed a cab, and gave the driver the address of the town house. And when they got there, the driver had to shake her to wake her up and tell her what the fare was. |
| 1084 |
She felt too sick to tell her the details, and she wasn't sure she wanted to anyway. But as she lay on her bed, she started to drift off again, just the way she had in the white chair, and then when she'd woken up and found him naked beside her. Maybe when she opened her eyes again, Marjorie would be naked, too. |
| 1085 |
He didn't frighten her anymore. He couldn't do anything to her. She had done everything she was supposed to. And he had just signed off on her papers, and she had them firmly clutched in her hand. She was just an ordinary citizen now. Her past was finally behind her. And this little bastard wasn't going to revive it. |
| 1086 |
She had never spent much money, and she'd been paid well by the Swansons. She'd even managed to save a little extra money, and her nest egg was back up to slightly over fifty thousand. She had already wired it ahead to a bank in New York. And she already knew where she wanted to stay, and she had a reservation. |
| 1087 |
One of the models had told her about it, and thought it was a dumb place, because they didn't let you bring in guys, but it was exactly what Grace wanted. She took a cab from the airport directly to the Bar bizon for Women on Lexington and Sixty third, and she loved the neighborhood the moment she saw it. |
| 1088 |
It was a beautiful October day, and in a funny way, she felt like she'd come home finally. She'd never been happier in her life, and on Monday she went to three employment agencies to look for work. The next morning they called her with half a dozen interviews. Two at modeling agencies, which she declined. |
| 1089 |
Her office skills had improved over the years, but she still didn't take proper dictation, but they seemed willing to accommodate her, as long as she was able to take fast notes and type. She liked everyone she met, including both of the junior partners she would work for, Tom Short and Bill Martin. |
| 1090 |
It was at Eighty fourth and First. She could take the subway to work, or the bus, and she could afford the rent comfortably on her salary. She'd sold her bed and furniture to the girl who took her place in Chicago, and she went to Macy's and bought a few things, but was worried to find them so expensive. |
| 1091 |
And a month after she'd arrived she had a job, a life, and an apartment. She'd bought most of her furniture by then, and it wasn't exciting or elegant, but it was comfortable. Her building was old, but it was clean. They had given her curtains and the place had beige wall to wall that went with everything she'd bought. |
| 1092 |
It was a very different relationship from the one Tom and Bill had with Grace. It was almost as though they pretended not to see her. She wondered sometimes if her youth was threatening to them, or if their wives would have been annoyed, or if Winnie was less of a threat to them, and more comfortable. |
| 1093 |
It was a far cry from Bob Swanson, but she liked that a lot about her job. The week before Thanksgiving, she spent some time on her lunch hour making a few personal phone calls. She had meant to do it for a while, but she'd been busy settling into her apartment. But now it was time to start giving back again. |
| 1094 |
He had been thrilled to hear from her. She was one of the many miracles he said they needed. He led her to a kitchen with three old dishwashers that had been donated to them and a big old fashioned sink. There were posters on the walls, a big round table and some chairs, and two huge pots of coffee. |
| 1095 |
He poured a cup for each of them, and led her to a small room with a desk and three chairs. It looked as though it had been a utility room and was now his office. The place was badly in need of paint and some decent furniture, but sitting there, talking to him, it was easy to forget anything but him. |
| 1096 |
One was wearing a sweat suit, and the other jeans and a threadbare sweater. And Sister Eugene volunteered to take Grace upstairs to show her around the rooms where the women stayed, and the nursery where they sometimes kept the children, if the women were too battered to deal with them for the time being themselves. |
| 1097 |
The lights were kept dim, and Sister Eugene walked Grace in on soundless feet, as she signaled to the nurse on duty. And as Grace looked around her at the women in the beds, her heart twisted as she recognized the signs she had lived her entire life with. Merciless beatings and heartrending bruises. |
| 1098 |
Two women had arms in casts, one had cigarette burns all over her face, and another was moaning as the nurse tried to bandage her broken ribs again, and put ice packs on her swollen eyes. Her husband was in jail now. "We send the worst cases to the hospital," Sister Eugene explained quietly as they left the room again. |
| 1099 |
Sister Eugene took her to see the children then, and in minutes Grace had her arms full of little girls and boys, she was telling them stories, and tying bows on braids, and shoelaces, as children told her who they were, and some of them talked about what had happened and why they had come there. Some couldn't. |
| 1100 |
But no one bothered her, and half an hour later, she was home, walking down First Avenue to her apartment She was tired from her long day, but she felt renewed again, and as though at least for some, the horrors in her life had been useful. For Grace, knowing that always made the pain she carried seem worthwhile. |
| 1101 |
Her constant refusals of all the young men in the office sort of fit the pattern. "She's probably keeping it a secret." He no longer believed that her reticence was entirely caused by virtue and clear thinking, there had to be more to it than that, and several of the other junior partners agreed with him. |
| 1102 |
The two women left each other in the lobby and said good night, and Grace went downtown to Delan cey Street and spent the night caring for the needy. And the next morning, she looked tired when she came to work, which convinced Winnie that their boss was right, and she had been up to some mischief the night before. |
| 1103 |
She couldn't imagine what he might be complaining about, unless one of the men she'd turned down had decided to make trouble for her. She had lived through that before, and it certainly wouldn't have surprised her. "Now don't tell him anything you don't have to," Winnie warned her as she went upstairs. |
| 1104 |
It was like leaving home, and she was in a rotten mood when she got upstairs. She was annoyed over the high handedness of it. And she hadn't had time for lunch, and had a terrible headache. Besides which, she really did feel like she was getting the flu from her long walk in the rain the night before. |
| 1105 |
And then started making the phone calls. When he came back from lunch at two fifteen, she had made all his calls for him, finished half the research, and taken several messages. In each case, she had handled what the caller wanted from him, and he had no need to return the calls, just to know about their resolution. |
| 1106 |
He walked in very quietly, he had had a working lunch downstairs with some of the other partners. And he was casual and friendly when he greeted her, and praised her for the work she'd done for him so quickly. "You're as good as they said you were, Grace." He smiled warmly at her, and she vowed instantly to resist him. |
| 1107 |
For six weeks, Grace had done an impeccable job for him, and she'd barely said a civil word to him. He had been nothing but friendly with her, and accommodating, but each time she saw him, and noticed again how good looking he was, and how at ease he was with her and everyone, she hated him all the more. |
| 1108 |
She knew he'd been married to a well known actress and they'd never had children. He had been divorced for two years, and according to most reports, he dated a lot of women. She had certainly made plenty of dinner reservations for him, but not all were with women. Some were with his partners and clients. |
| 1109 |
She said it was like leaving home again for her, and that he was the kindest person she had ever known. She cried when she said goodbye to him and everyone in the office. Grace didn't get the feeling that she was ending a love affair, but felt that she was genuinely heartbroken to leave a much loved employer. |
| 1110 |
No! She wasn't going to do it. In her mind, it was all a setup, and she would be walking into a trap. But when she went in to tell him the next day that she wouldn't go, he thanked her so nicely for being willing to give up her own time and come with him, that she felt awkward refusing to go with him. |
| 1111 |
And then he chatted with her for a few minutes and read the paper. He didn't seem particularly interested in her, and she could tell that one of his phone calls had been to a woman. She knew that there was a well known socialite who called him fre quently at the office, and he sounded as though he liked her. |
| 1112 |
She hadn't heard from him in years, but she would have loved to try to see him. She had a feeling, though, that his wife had wanted him to break the connection with her. She'd divined that just from little things he'd said in his letters. And now she hadn't heard from him at all since the birth of their first baby. |
| 1113 |
She was becoming just what the others had said she was, loyal, hardworking, and nice to be around. It had been a long time coming. He dropped her off at her apartment on the way home, and told her to take her time coming in, and if she changed her mind, he'd understand. But she was there before he was. |
| 1114 |
Her blood pressure plummeted again as soon as they got inside, but this time her heart didn't stop. She already had an IV in her, and the chief resident came in with three nurses and started issuing orders, as the paramedics and the policeman disappeared, and went to the front desk to fill out papers. |
| 1115 |
Sam Jones had gone after Grace, and nearly killed her. Father Tim followed the nurse into the room and he was shocked at what he saw there. Three nurses were hovering over her, two interns, and the resident. She was almost naked, swathed in sheets, and her whole body was black it was so bruised and swollen. |
| 1116 |
Her face looked like a deep purple melon. She was covered in ice packs, swathed in bandages, there were screens and scans and IVs and instruments everywhere. It was the worst thing he'd ever seen, and at a nod from the resident, he gave her last rites. He didn't even know what religion she was, but it didn't matter. |
| 1117 |
Charles Mackenzie had had one of the secretaries call her half a dozen times at home, but there was no answer. She could have overstayed on a weekend romance, but he kept insisting that it wasn't like her. He had no idea who else to call, but for all he knew, she could have slipped and hit her head in the bathtub. |
| 1118 |
She lost her spleen, though the doctor says she can live without it. Her kidneys are damaged, she has a broken pelvis and half a dozen broken ribs. Her face was pretty badly cut up, and he sliced her throat but only superficially. The worst of it is that she has a head injury. That's the main concern now. |
| 1119 |
Charles couldn't believe what they'd told him when he called the hospital. He remembered telling her how dangerous the neighborhood was, and that she should be taking cabs. And now look what had happened. He felt shaken for the rest of the afternoon, and he called at five and asked if there was any improvement. |
| 1120 |
The priest who came in earlier had apparently gone home to rest. But the Sister says she has no one in the world. That's pretty rough for a young kid. The Sister says she's a nice looking girl, though it's a little hard to tell at the moment. The plastic resident sewed her up so she should look okay. |
| 1121 |
But there were only nurses with her now, and for the moment nothing had changed since that morning. Charles went and sat with her for a while, unable to believe what she looked like. She would have been completely unrecognizable, except for her long, graceful fingers. He held her hand in his own and gently stroked it. |
| 1122 |
And at midnight, Charles was still there with her, he couldn't bring himself to leave her. But it appeared now that her brain was not damaged. They would have to do more tests, and they had to be sure that there was no further hidden trauma, but it looked as though she would in fact recover and be all right eventually. |
| 1123 |
Some of them heal, the way she has, but many of the children who suffer like the ones we see can never cross over into a life where they can trust enough to be whole people again. I think it's miraculous if they come as far as Grace has, and can give so much to others. Maybe wanting more than that is too much to ask. |
| 1124 |
It sounded like he wasn't sure of her history either, and Charles wondered if he could be wrong about her. But he seemed to know Grace a lot better than Charles did. And the things he said about her tore at his heart. He wondered what terrible things had happened to her to leave her so badly scarred as a woman. |
| 1125 |
And Charles had also promised to come and visit the center. He was going to, too, he wanted to know more about Grace, and that was one way to do it. Charles went back to visit Grace for the next three days, canceling his lunches to be there, even one with his producer friend, but he didn't want to let Grace down. |
| 1126 |
She cried when she saw Grace, and wrung her hands, and kissed her on the only tiny patch of her face with no bandages or bruises. She looked slightly better by then. A lot of the swelling had gone down, but everything hurt, and she found she could hardly move, between her ribs and her head, and her pelvis. |
| 1127 |
It hurt so much to do it that she almost fainted, but she celebrated her victory with a glass of fruit juice when she got back to bed. She was sheet white, but smiling, when Charles arrived with a huge bunch of spring flowers. He had been bringing flowers for her daily, and magazines, and candy, and books. |
| 1128 |
They had said three weeks the day before, which didn't appeal to Grace at all, and meant she'd still be in the hospital on her birthday. "I want to go back to work." They had told her she'd be on crutches for a month or two, but she still wanted to go back to work as soon as she got out of the hospital. |
| 1129 |
She was surprised by how easy it was to talk to him, and he didn't seem to want to go anywhere at all. He was still there when her nurse went to lunch, and he even helped her hobble to the chair clutching his arm, and gently propped a pillow behind her when she got there, victorious but pale and exhausted. |
| 1130 |
It was ten o'clock by then, and he thought she should get some sleep, although he didn't want to leave either. But that night, as she lay in bed and thought about him, she started to panic. What was she doing with him? What did she want from him? If she opened up to him like this, he would only hurt her. |
| 1131 |
They laughed, and they talked, and played cards, and he joked with her. He didn't force any confidences from her, and he helped her walk down the hall, and promised her you couldn't see a single scar, and when she complained about how horrible the hospital gowns were, he brought her exquisite nightgowns from Pratesi. |
| 1132 |
But once she went home, she was frightened again that everything would change. For about two hours, until he appeared at her apartment with champagne and balloons, and a picnic lunch. It was only two hours after he had brought her back from the hospital in a rented limo and left her briefly to do some errands. |
| 1133 |
They were suddenly all alone without nurses and attendants to chaperon and interrupt them. It made Grace feel shy with him at first, and he pretended not to notice. He had brought a funny nurse's hat with him with her birthday cake and gift and picnic lunch, and he put it on, and forced her to go to bed and rest. |
| 1134 |
He had been lying next to her on her bed for two hours, and holding her hand. They were like old friends, but there was also an undeniable electricity between them. And now it was Charles who was frightened. He didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize their relationship, or make him lose her. |
| 1135 |
It was the best birthday she'd ever had, even with her broken bones and her stitches and her crutches. He had made up for everything and a lot of years with his dinner, and his present, and his kindness. He didn't want to push her much further than he already had, but he wanted to understand something more clearly. |
| 1136 |
This was not going to be easy. But he was determined to bring her back across the bridge eventually. He knew that whatever it took, and however long, he was going to save her. He left her apartment late that night, after he'd tucked her into bed, and she was almost sleeping. He kissed her again, and let himself out. |
| 1137 |
Why did he need anyone else? Not right off anyway. So when everyone left, I cleaned up, washed the dishes, put everything away, and locked the door to my room. He came after me, he threatened to knock the door down, and he got a knife and sprung the lock. He dragged me into her room, and he'd never done that before. |
| 1138 |
He saw the gun, and he tried to grab it from me, and then the next thing I knew, it went off, and he was bleeding all over me. I shot him through the throat, and it severed his spinal cord and punctured his lung. He fell on top of me and bled horribly, and after that I don't remember anything until the police came. |
| 1139 |
Everything being one small but highly mortgaged house, and half of his law practice, which was a lot smaller than yours. I couldn't inherit any of it anyway, because I killed him. I had no friends. I had never told anyone. My teachers said that I was withdrawn and strange, kids said they never knew me. |
| 1140 |
They'd found my nightgown on the floor where he threw it after he tore it in half, and they claimed I had probably exposed myself to him, and when he didn't want me, I shot him. They charged me with murder one, which would have required the death penalty. I was seventeen, but they tried me as an adult. |
| 1141 |
He told her stories about his childhood, and his parents, who were no longer alive, but whom he had loved very much and had been very good to him. He was an only child, and he'd had a good life, and he knew it. And she told him funny things about Luana and Sally. It was an odd assortment of memories and exchanges. |
| 1142 |
It was so different from his time with his first wife. She'd been so intense, so self involved, and so nervous. Life with Grace was completely different. She was relaxed, intelligent, giving, caring. She had been through so much, and yet she was still so kind and so gentle. And she still had a sense of humor. |
| 1143 |
It was like watching different creatures appear from behind clouds. He loved her playfulness and the fact that she wasn't quite grown up yet. Their room at the inn was done in rose patterned chintzes and Victorian furniture. There was a sweet marble sink in the room, and the bed was canopied and very pretty. |
| 1144 |
There was no memory, no time, no other person, there was only Charles and his incredible gentleness, his endless passion and love for her, as he moved ever so gently toward her, and they moved closer and closer, until suddenly they became one and she could feel herself melt into him and she could bear it no longer. |
| 1145 |
She had already decorated the nursery by then, and they went for long walks at night, up Madison Avenue, or down Park, and talked about their life, their good fortune, and their baby. It still startled them both, and they were both still amazed that, in bed at least, her past had never come back to haunt them. |
| 1146 |
It was perfect. She went into labor one night as they walked home. They had been window shopping on Madison Avenue, and she scarcely noticed the first pains. It was only after a while that she realized what had happened. They called the doctor and he told them to take their time, first babies were usually in no hurry. |
| 1147 |
This was the real thing. Pretty soon, they'd have a baby. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him, and to her. And by the time they settled her in a labor room, she had calmed down again, but Grace was surprised by how much the contractions hurt, and how strong they were. Finally, by two a. |
| 1148 |
All he wanted to do was take her in his arms again, and make the pain stop for her. But nothing helped her now, and the doctor didn't want to give her medication. He said he really preferred natural childbirth, for mother and child. Charles wanted to kill him, as he watched what Grace was going through. |
| 1149 |
There was no reason for them not to go home, her obstetrician explained. And Charles realized that he had a whole new world to discover. It was terrifying taking a baby home so soon, but Grace acted as though it was completely natural, and seemed totally at ease with her son from the very first moment he was born. |
| 1150 |
It amused him that life could change so quickly. Their second baby took longer to come, and once again Charles found himself ready to promise to the gods that he would never touch his wife again, but this time the doctor finally gave in, and gave her some medication. It didn't help much, but it was something. |
| 1151 |
She was too involved with her husband and children. For three years after Abigail was born, Grace spent every daytime moment with them, and her evenings with Charles, going to partners' dinners and dinner parties. They went to the theater, and he introduced her to the opera, and she found that she liked it. |
| 1152 |
Her entire life was opening up, and at times she felt guilty, knowing that in other places, other lives, people were less fortunate, and were suffering as she once had. She was so lucky and so free now. She wondered what had happened to Luana and Sally sometimes, and the women she had tried to help at St. Andrew's. |
| 1153 |
But there didn't seem to be time for things like that anymore. She thought about David in California sometimes too, and wondered where he was now. Her life seemed so far removed from those troubled years. Sometimes even she had a hard time remembering that she had had any other life before marrying Charles. |
| 1154 |
It was as though she had been born again the day she met him. She wanted to have another baby once Abigail started nursery school, but this time it didn't seem to happen. She was only twenty eight by then, and her doctor said it was hard to know why sometimes it was easier to get pregnant than others. |
| 1155 |
She would stand there and just smile at them sometimes, watching them. And then she and Andrew would go to the kitchen and make cupcakes, or she and Abigail would cut out paper dolls, or string beads, or make pictures with spaghetti. She loved being with them, and she never got bored, or tired of them. |
| 1156 |
Grace started to cry as she read about it, wanting to comfort the little girl, imagining her cries as her father beat her. It was so vivid that even after she left for school, she was still crying. And she was quiet as she and the children walked home for lunch. Andrew asked his mother what was the matter. |
| 1157 |
People were shocked and outraged. Teachers at the private school where she had been in first grade defended themselves, claiming that they had suspected nothing. She had been a frail child and bruised easily, and she had never said anything about what was happening at home. But hearing that infuriated Grace. |
| 1158 |
Why did no one suspect what went on behind closed doors when atrocities were happening there? The real tragedy was that sometimes people did know and did nothing about it. It was that indifference that she wanted to stop. She wanted to shake people to wake them. Charles put an arm around her shoulders then. |
| 1159 |
She had talked to a psychologist she had met, and the head of the children's school, and she decided that she had what she needed. She even tracked down Sister Eugene from St. Andrew's, and she gave her some names of people who would be willing to work hands on and wouldn't expect a lot of money for it. |
| 1160 |
She was amazed at how many bookings they got. And she shook like a leaf the first time she gave a talk herself. She told a group of people she had never met how she had been abused as a child, how no one had seen it, and no one had wanted to, and how everyone had thought her father was the greatest guy in town. |
| 1161 |
But what she did tell them moved them deeply. All of their speakers had stories like that, some of them firsthand, and some of them about students or patients. But the people she organized to speak were all powerful in their message. It was a message that came straight from the heart. Help kids! And they meant it. |
| 1162 |
Most of them were too sick even to want help, and it was rare that they themselves would step forward and ask for it. It was easier to get the point across to observers. It was hard to judge what kind of results they were getting, except that their hot line was jammed night and day with desperate callers. |
| 1163 |
It had been a wonderful evening, and she'd been given a handsome plaque to commend her for her unselfish gifts to children. "I'll have to show this to the kids the next time they tell me how mean I am," she smiled, and set it down on a table in their hotel suite. She was glad they had come after all. |
| 1164 |
They were back in New York by two o'clock the next afternoon. Charles was in a festive mood, and decided not to go back to his office. He went home with Grace instead, and the children were delighted to see them. They jumped all over them and wanted to know what their parents had brought them from the trip. |
| 1165 |
And when they got to the house, he ran in to get the kids, and let them pet the horse. And then the driver agreed to take them around the block for an additional fee, and the four of them rode around the block to the house again. And then they went inside, and the sitter left, and Grace made pasta for dinner. |
| 1166 |
And then suddenly she realized what it must have looked like, as though she were being arrested. It would have seemed funny to her except that suddenly it reminded her of the night she had killed her father, and by the time they got to Lenox Hill, she was having an asthma attack, the first she'd had in two years. |
| 1167 |
And when the baby came, he was a beautiful little boy who looked like both of them, except he had pale blond hair, which they insisted was nowhere in their families. He was an exquisite child, and he looked almost Swedish. They named him Matthew, and the children fell in love with him the moment they saw him. |
| 1168 |
And political campaigns were costly and exhausting. They had lunch and talked about it, and Charles turned him down. But when the junior congressman from his district had a heart attack and died later that year, Roger called again, and this time Grace surprised Charles by pressing him to think about it. |
| 1169 |
She still took shifts on the hot line whenever she could, but she worked for Charles more than she did anything else, and she could see that he loved what he was doing. He was excited about it, and they went to picnics and barbecues and state fairs, he spoke to political groups and farmers and businessmen. |
| 1170 |
He was a hardworking congressman who stayed in close touch with his roots at home, and Grace was discreet and hardworking in her own arena, and with her children. They had been in Washington for nearly three terms, five years, when Charles was approached again, and this time with an offer that interested him greatly. |
| 1171 |
But the man had been in the Senate for a long time, and people thought it was time for a change. And Charles Mackenzie was very appealing. He had a great track record, a clean reputation, and a lot of friends. He was also very good looking, and had a family people liked, which never hurt in an election. |
| 1172 |
But in spite of their probing, they seemed inclined to like her. Magazines called her up to do interviews, and photograph her, and at first she refused them. She didn't want to be in the forefront of the campaign. She wanted to do what she had done for him before, work hard, and stand just behind him. |
| 1173 |
Once you entered the ring, you belonged to them, and they could do anything they wanted. Gone the peaceful congressional days when he only had to worry about the constituents he represented, and the local press. Now he was dealing with the national press, and all their demands and quirks, love affairs and hatreds. |
| 1174 |
He took the kids to school as he always did. Matthew, their baby, was in second grade now. And Andrew had just started high school. They still all went to the same school, and they had gotten to the point where most of their friends were in Washington and not Connecticut, but they were at home in both places. |
| 1175 |
There wasn't a soul alive they wanted to talk to. And there was an unlisted emergency line where Charles's aides called him. They called several times, and warned that they had been advised again that the story was ugly. It was presented as a special bulletin, with a full screen photograph of her mug shot from prison. |
| 1176 |
On another channel, they were interviewing the chief of police again. And in Watseka, a girl who claimed to have been Grace's best friend in school, and whom Grace had also never seen before, said that Grace had always talked to her a lot about how much she loved her father and how jealous she was of her mother. |
| 1177 |
But everyone in the public eye is in the same boat you are. And unfortunately these are tabloid times we live in. The common belief of the media is that the public wants not only dirt, but blood. They want to make people and destroy people, they want to tear people apart, and feed them to the public bit by bit. |
| 1178 |
It's not personal, it's economic. They make money off your corpse. They're vultures. They pay up to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a story, and then treat it as news. And unreliable sources who're being paid that kind of money will say anything to keep the spodight on them, and the money coming. |
| 1179 |
You suffered enough. You were seventeen. You shouldn't have to go through all this, nor should your husband and your children. But there's very littie I can do to help you. We'll keep an eye on it, and if anything turns up we can sue for, we will. But you have to be prepared for the fallout from that too. |
| 1180 |
The laws had been made to turn them into victims. The feeding frenzy, as he had called it, went on for weeks. The children went back to school, reluctantly. Fortunately, they got out for summer vacation after a week, and the family moved to Connecticut for the summer. But it was more of the same there. |
| 1181 |
But no one could do anything to stop the press, or the lies, or the gossip. And he knew as well as she did that even if he talked to the press on her behalf, everything he said would be distorted. He was happy to know that other than the current uproar in the press, she was happily married, and had children. |
| 1182 |
They both agreed that the press didn't want the facts. They wanted scandal and filth. They wanted to hear that she'd been giving blow jobs to guards, or sleeping with women in chains in prison. They didn't want to know how vulnerable she'd been, how terrorized, how traumatized, how scared, how young, how decent. |
| 1183 |
But maybe if it was handled well, it wouldn't do any harm either. The conference was set for the week before her birthday on an important interview show, on a major network. It was heavily advertised, and television news cameras started appearing outside their house the day before. It was agony for their children. |
| 1184 |
But I had paid for it before, and I paid for it after. I think revealing it, in this way, scandalizing it, sensationalizing the agony that our family went through, and tormenting my children and my husband now, serves no purpose. It's done in such a way as to embarrass us, and not to inform the public. |
| 1185 |
She was happier at home, behind her walls, and she dreaded going out, even with Charles. In spite of his campaign, it was a very quiet summer. But by August, finally, everything seemed to be back to normal. There were no more photographers camped outside, and she hadn't been on the cover of the tabloids in weeks. |
| 1186 |
Their children were what brought them the most joy in all their years together. He worried about her during the campaign though. The baby was due in March, and she was two months pregnant, which meant that she'd be campaigning all through the early months. She'd be five months pregnant at the election. |
| 1187 |
They had only gone out with close friends in Greenwich, and because of the furor she'd caused in June, and her early pregnancy, he had done all of his campaigning without her. Abigail started high school that year. Andrew went into his second year, and he had a new girlfriend, her father was the French ambassador. |
| 1188 |
She was just three months pregnant, and they had decided to wait until after Matt's birthday in September. Grace had planned a party for him. And little by little, she started going out with Charles again. It was hard being seen again, knowing that her ugly past had become part of everyone's dinner conversation. |
| 1189 |
And as she stood at the checkout stand, waiting to pay, she almost fainted when she saw it. The latest edition of the tabloid Thrill had just been set out, and Charles hadn't been warned this time. There was a photograph of her nude, with her head thrown back and her eyes closed, right on the cover. |
| 1190 |
And as she drove home, crying behind the wheel, she realized how stupid she had been. You couldn't buy them all up. It was like emptying the ocean with a teacup. She ran into the house as soon as she stopped the car, but Charles was sitting in the kitchen looking stunned, holding a copy of the tabloid in his hands. |
| 1191 |
His chief aide had just seen it and brought it to him. They had never warned them. The aide saw the look on Grace's face, and left immediately, and Charles looked at her with real shock for the first time. She had never seen him look as betrayed or as weary, and seeing him that way almost killed her. |
| 1192 |
And as she stared at the photograph, she saw that she looked drugged. She looked completely out of it, to her own eyes. But to a stranger, intent on seeing something lewd, it was everything they could have wanted. She couldn't believe anyone could do something like that. He had destroyed her life with a single picture. |
| 1193 |
The photograph itself was on the news that night, and the story broke so big that every network and wire service in the country were calling. His aides were frantically trying to explain that it was probably all a mistake, the girl only looked like her, and no, Mrs. Mackenzie was not available for comment. |
| 1194 |
And it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that just because Charles was in politics they had a right to destroy her and their family. They had had sixteen wonderful years, and now it had all turned into a nightmare. It was like coming back full circle, and being put back in prison. She was helpless against the lies. |
| 1195 |
Everything she'd done, everything she'd lived, everything she'd built had been wasted. And by that afternoon she'd seen a copy of the release, and there was no denying that she had signed it. The handwriting was shaky, and the forms a little loose, but even to her own eyes, she recognized the signature. |
| 1196 |
All the parents who dropped their children off gave Grace strange looks, or at least she thought so. Charles was on hand to greet them too, but the two of them had barely spoken since the night before, and he had spent the night in their guest room. He needed time to think, and to absorb what had happened. |
| 1197 |
She was packing two big suitcases and he was suddenly worried. He had been hard on her, but he had a right to be upset. Anyone would have been shocked. But he was willing to let her past die quietly behind them. He hadn't told her that yet, but he was slowly coming around. Some things were harder than others. |
| 1198 |
He was referring to the night before and the suitcase, but she pretended not to understand, in front of the boys. And then they all left. Charles had a lot of important meetings, and press fires to put out, and he never had time to call her till noon, and when he did there was no answer. Grace was long gone by then. |
| 1199 |
She was upset and confused and sobbing when she left. The housekeeper saw her go, and heard her wrenching sobs in the garage, but she was afraid to go to her and intrude. She knew what she was crying about or so she thought. She'd cried herself when she'd seen the tabloids. But Grace didn't take the car. |
| 1200 |
He talked incessantly and Grace didn't bother to listen to him. She felt sick when she saw that he had the picture of her on the cover of Thrill on the front seat of the cab, and he was looking over his shoulder to talk to her, when he ran right into another cab, and then was rear ended hard, by two cars behind him. |
| 1201 |
The highway patrol came, no one appeared to be hurt, so all they had to do was exchange all their numbers, driver's licenses, and the names of their insurance carriers. To Grace, it seemed endless. But she had nowhere to go anyway. She was taking a commuter flight, and she could always catch the next one. |
| 1202 |
Too bad Charles didn't think so, but who could blame him? He dropped her off at the airport, and she felt a little twinge in her neck from when they'd been hit, and she felt a little stiff, but it was nothing major. She didn't want to make any trouble for him. And she just managed to catch her flight. |
| 1203 |
They gave her a small room filled with rose covered chintz, and the bellboy put down her two bags. She tipped him, and he left, and no one had said how remarkable her resemblance was to the porno queen in the tabloids. She wondered as she lay down on the bed if Charles had come home by then and found her letter. |
| 1204 |
She knew it was nothing. She didn't have the strength to go to the bathroom. She just lay there, feeling weak and sad, and slowly the room began to spin around, and eventually she drifted off into the blackness. She woke again at four a.m., and by this time the cramps she'd felt earlier were really bad. |
| 1205 |
She rode downstairs huddled over, but the elevator operators said nothing. She knew the hospital was only half a block away, and all she had to do was get there in a hurry. She saw the bellmen watching her, and the clerk at the desk, and when she got outside into the warm September air, she felt a little better. |
| 1206 |
As they wheeled Grace into the emergency room, she saw lights spinning by overhead, and heard noises. There were metallic sounds, and someone called her by her first name. They kept saying it over and over, and then they were doing something terrible to her, and there was awful pain. She tried to sit up and stop them. |
| 1207 |
But Charles wasn't asleep. He had been awake all night, praying that she would call him. He'd been such a fool. He had been wrong to react the way he had, but they were all worn down by the constant attack of the tabloids. And it had been a shock. But the last thing he had wanted to do was lose her. |
| 1208 |
She had lost a dramatic amount of blood, and the doctor didn't think she'd be feeling well for a while, and he said that while she was certainly able to conceive again, he didn't recommend it. She had a startling amount of scarring, and he was actually surprised she'd gotten pregnant as often as she had. |
| 1209 |
They went from the hospital to the hotel that afternoon, and Grace was stunned by how weak she was. She could hardly walk and Charles carried her into the hotel, and to her room, and put her right to bed, and ordered room service for her. She was sad, but they were happy to be together, and the room was very cozy. |
| 1210 |
He called his aides in Washington and told them that he wouldn't be back for a couple of days, and then he called the housekeeper and told her to explain to the children that he was with their mother in New York, and would be back in two days. She promised to stay with them until he returned, and drive Matt to school. |
| 1211 |
She wasn't his problem. At the hotel, Charles made her sleep as much as she could, and the next morning, Grace was feeling better. She ate breakfast and sat up in a chair, and she wanted to go out for a walk with him, but she didn't have the strength to do it. She couldn't believe how rotten she felt. |
| 1212 |
He gave her some pills and some vitamins, and told her she'd just have to be patient. And when they went out in the hall, Charles asked him about what the doctor at Lenox Hill had said about the scarring. But her own doctor wasn't impressed. She'd had it for years and it had never given her any trouble. |
| 1213 |
He had thought about driving her back to Washington, but that seemed too tiring too. Flying was quicker. They flew first class, and he got another wheelchair for her when they arrived, and he wheeled her quickly through the airport. But she waved frantically for him to stop as they passed a newspaper stand. |
| 1214 |
But Grace didn't think they should know that, so they didn't tell them about the miscarriage. She was still feeling very weak the next day, but the children were being very good to her, even Abby brought breakfast to her room, and at lunchtime Grace went downstairs for a cup of tea, and happened to look out the window. |
| 1215 |
Charles came home shortly after that, and he was beginning to wonder if they would ever have a normal life again. He refused to comment to the camera crew, and said that his wife had been in a car accident and was ill and he would really appreciate their leaving, after which there was a lot of hooting and jeering. |
| 1216 |
But by the weekend, another of Marcus's photographs had been printed in Thrill again. She wore the same black velvet ribbon around her neck, and the same lack of clothes. It was essentially the same photograph they'd seen before, just a slightly different position, and only slightly more suggestive. |
| 1217 |
They had to stand and fight, and she told him she refused to destroy her family over his "damn campaign." But that wasn't what it was about, and they both knew it. They were just frustrated at their own helplessness, and needed to scream at someone, since they couldn't do anything to stop what was happening. |
| 1218 |
They said that kids his age wandered off all the time, and usually stayed pretty close to home. They asked for a list of his best friends and a picture of him, and they set out in the squad car. Charles and Grace stayed home to wait for him, in case he came back. But the policemen were back with him half an hour later. |
| 1219 |
It had been a dumb idea to run away and he knew it. His mother walked him upstairs and tucked him in and they all went to bed early that night. Grace and Charles were exhausted and Matthew was asleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow. Kisses was lying at the foot of the bed, and snoring softly. |
| 1220 |
It didn't matter what happened to her anymore. She had to. She opened the safe and took Charles's gun out, and then she got in her car and drove to the address she'd jotted down on a piece of paper. The kids were at school, and Charles was at work. No one knew where she was going, or what she intended to do. |
| 1221 |
She rang the bell at his studio on F Street, and she was surprised when someone buzzed her in without asking who she was. It meant either that they were very big and busy, or extremely sloppy. Because with a lot of valuable equipment around, they should have been more careful, but fortunately, they weren't. |
| 1222 |
It was all so easy, she couldn't imagine why she had never thought of it before. The door was open, and there was no one there, except Marcus. He didn't even have an assistant. He had his back to her, and he was bending over a camera, shooting a bowl of fruit on a table. He was all alone, and he didn't even see her. |
| 1223 |
He had been absolutely certain she was going to kill him, and he'd been right, until the last five minutes. Just seeing him again, standing there, sniveling, coked out to the gills, had brought her to her senses. She drove home and put the gun away, and then she called Charles. "I have to see you," she said urgently. |
| 1224 |
He ordered a glass of wine, she never drank at lunch, and rarely at dinner. And then they ordered lunch. And when they had, she told him in an undertone what had happened. He literally grew pale when she told him. He was stunned. She knew how wrong it was, but for a moment, just a moment, it had seemed worth it. |
| 1225 |
The price is too high for some of us. Some people get away with it quietly forever. But we didn't. There was too much in your past, too many people were jealous of us. I think just the relationship we have and the kids get plenty of people riled. There are a lot of miserably envious, unhappy people in the world. |
| 1226 |
It was just too high a price to pay for any man, or any family that stood behind him. He had called Roger Marshall and apologized, and Roger said he understood completely. He thought there might be some other interesting opportunities in the near future, but it was too soon for Charles even to want to hear them. |
| 1227 |
There had been a time when none of this would have happened. It was all muckraking and lies and maliciousness, actual or otherwise, provable or not. They went for the gut every time with a stiletto, and they didn't even care whose gut it was, as long as the stiletto came back with blood and guts on it. |
| 1228 |
A deal was a deal, and he had sold it and spent the money. But he was terrified that Grace would come back with the gun again, and this time maybe she'd get him. He was afraid to leave the studio, and he decided to leave town. He decided not to sell them the photograph of her with the guy that he'd spoken of. |
| 1229 |
It was a great shot too, and they really looked like they were doing it. But she'd shoot him for sure over that one, and Thrill didn't really care anymore. Mackenzie had resigned and he was old news. Who cared about his old lady? But three days after the picture came out, the wire services got a call. |
| 1230 |
He could have come forward then, but he didn't want to get involved. He could have been charged with fraud, but there was nothing illegal about tricking photographs. It was done constantly for ads, for jokes, for greeting cards, for layouts. It was only when you did what Marcus had done that it became illegal. |
| 1231 |
But he said he wouldn't. He had accomplished a lot in Congress in six years, and learned innumerable important lessons. The most important one he'd learned was that his family meant a lot more to him than his job. He knew he had made the right decision. They'd been through enough pain to last a lifetime. |
| 1232 |
It had made the children stronger too, and brought them all closer together. He had had other offers too, from corporations in the private sector, an important foundation or two, and of course they wanted him back at the law firm, but he hadn't made up his mind yet. And they were going to do exactly what he'd said. |
| 1233 |
The next day Grace was already in the car with the kids when the phone rang. Charles was making a last check of the house to make sure they hadn't left anything behind, but he had only found Matt's football, and a pair of old sneakers under the back porch, otherwise everything was gone. The house was empty. |
| 1234 |
The two men shook hands, and Charles went downstairs looking excited. Grace could see that something had happened upstairs, and she was dying to know what it was. It took them forever to get the kids and the dog back into the car, and finally they did and everyone asked at Once what the President had said to him. |
| 1235 |
She had a fascination with the destitute and devastated. The agony in the eyes of some of her subjects ripped out your soul, just as it had affected hers when she photographed them. Hope's work was greatly respected, but to look at her, nothing about her demeanor suggested that she was famous or important. |
| 1236 |
Sometimes she got on the subway, and rode uptown to Harlem, wandering through the streets in T shirt and jeans, taking photographs of children. She had spent time in South America, photographing children and old people there too. She went wherever the spirit moved her, and did very little commercial work now. |
| 1237 |
But most of the magazine work she did was portraits of important people who she thought were worthwhile and interesting. She had published a remarkable book of portraits, another of children, and was going to publish a book of her photographs from India soon. She was fortunate to be able to do whatever she wanted. |
| 1238 |
They were a deep, deep blue, with the slightly purple color of very fine sapphires from Burma or Ceylon, and were filled with compassion that had seen the sorrows of the world. Those who had seen eyes like hers before understood instantly that she was a woman who had suffered, but wore it well, with dignity and grace. |
| 1239 |
If she believed in anything, she believed in life, and embraced it with a gentle touch. She was a strong reed bending in the wind, beautiful and resilient. It was snowing harder by the time she got to the front door of her building. She was carrying a camera case over her shoulder, and her keys and wallet were in it. |
| 1240 |
She carried nothing else, and she wore no makeup, except very occasionally bright red lipstick when she went out, which made her look more than ever like Snow White. And she wore her almost blue black hair pulled straight back, either in a ponytail, a braid, or a chignon, and when she loosened it, it hung to her waist. |
| 1241 |
Her biography as a photographer said that she was forty four years old, but it was difficult to assess her age and it would have been easy to believe she was far younger. Like the photographs she took, and her subjects, she was timeless. Looking at her, one wanted to stop and watch her for a long time. |
| 1242 |
It had been one of the high points of her life. Hope lit candles around the room and left the lights in the loft dim. Coming home to this room always soothed her. She slept on a little platform, up a ladder, on a spare narrow bed, and loved looking down at the room and the feeling of flying as she fell asleep. |
| 1243 |
She knew she had to eat, so eventually she wound up there, and heated up a can of soup. Most of the time, she was too lazy to make much of a meal. She lived on soups and salads and eggs. On the rare occasions when she wanted a real meal, she went to some simple restaurant alone and ate quickly, to get it over with. |
| 1244 |
She had never been much of a cook, and made no pretense of it. It had always seemed like a waste of time to her, there were so many other things that interested her more previously, her family, and now, her work. In the past three years, her work had become her life. She put her whole soul into it and it showed. |
| 1245 |
He hasn't delivered the book yet, but he will any minute, and the publisher needs the shot done now for their catalog and layouts for advance publicity in the trades. It's all very proper and on the up and up. The only problem is that they have a tight deadline. They should have thought of it before. |
| 1246 |
He was an important author, had won the National Book Award, and was always at the top of the best seller lists, but he was a bit of a wild card, and had appeared in the press frequently with assorted women. Mark didn't know how Hope would feel about shooting him, particularly if he misbehaved, and he could. |
| 1247 |
She wondered if Paul was in London now, but decided not to call him until she arrived, in case plans changed, and she had to see what kind of spare time she had. She didn't want to see him on Christmas, and risk either of them getting maudlin. She wanted to avoid that at all costs. They were best friends now. |
| 1248 |
If she saw him, they would both be careful to keep it light, which was what worked best for them these days. The rest was too hard to talk about, and served no purpose. Hope stood at the window and watched a man leave footprints in the snow, followed by an old woman slipping and sliding as she walked her dog. |
| 1249 |
It was a faithful friend and had served her well. Ten minutes later, she was walking down the street with the snow falling all around her as she prowled along, looking for the right shots. Without planning it, she arrived at the entrance to the subway, and hurried down the stairs. She'd just had an idea. |
| 1250 |
Snow had a way of softening people's hearts and faces. For Hope, the night was young, and if she felt like it, she could stay out all night. It was one of the advantages she had discovered of being alone. She could work whenever she wanted, for however long she cared to, and she never had to feel guilty. |
| 1251 |
She let the flight attendant know that she wouldn't be eating the meal, and told her what time she wanted to be woken up, exactly forty minutes before they landed at Heathrow. That would give her time for a cup of coffee and a croissant before they began their descent, and also time to brush her teeth and hair. |
| 1252 |
And as promised, the car from Claridge's was waiting for her as soon as she cleared customs carrying her camera bag. She had already ordered the rental of all the equipment she needed, and it was being delivered to the hotel that afternoon. She was meeting her subject at his home the following morning. |
| 1253 |
It sounded eerie, but the plot had some interesting twists and he said he'd give her a copy when it was finished. He said he was putting the last touches on it. She told him she hoped he felt better and agreed to meet two days later, to give him time to get over his cold. And after that Hope decided to call Paul. |
| 1254 |
Paul had turned sixty that fall, and had been struggling with Parkinson's for ten years. It had changed everything about their life, and his. He had developed a tremor right after his fiftieth birthday, and at first he had denied it, but as a cardiovascular surgeon, he couldn't hide from it for long. |
| 1255 |
He had had no choice but to retire within six months. And then the bottom had dropped out of his world and her own. He had continued to teach at Harvard for the next five years, until he couldn't manage that anymore either. He had retired completely at fifty five, and that was when the drinking began. |
| 1256 |
For two years he hid it from everyone they knew, except for her. The only wise thing he had done during that time was make some excellent investments, in two companies that made surgical equipment. He had advised one of them, and the investments had been more profitable than anything else he had ever done. |
| 1257 |
The subject was too painful for both of them. Somehow, with all that had happened, they had lost each other. They still loved each other and were close, but he wouldn't allow her to be part of his life anymore. She knew that he cared about her and loved her, but he was determined to die quietly on his own. |
| 1258 |
And other than her work, his seemingly generous gesture had left her completely alone and at loose ends. She worried about him, but she knew that medically he was in good hands. He spent months at a time on his boat, and the rest of the time he lived in London, or went back to Boston for treatment at Harvard. |
| 1259 |
And even though his illness had changed him, she still saw the same brilliant man and mind within the broken body. The loss of his profession had nearly destroyed him, and in many ways he was greatly diminished, but not in the eyes of his ex wife. To her, his tremor and shuffling gait didn't change the man he was. |
| 1260 |
Hope spent the night quietly in her hotel room, reading O'Neill's book, trying not to think about Paul, and the life they had once shared. It was a door neither of them dared open anymore, there were too many ghosts behind it, and they were better off keeping their exchanges about the present, rather than the past. |
| 1261 |
He looked equally happy to see her, and gave her a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You look terrific," he said, smiling at her. She was wearing black slacks, high heels, and a bright red coat, with her black hair pulled back in a bun. Her dark violet eyes looked huge and full of life as she took him in. |
| 1262 |
To her practiced eye, he looked no worse than he had in a while, maybe even slightly better. The experimental medication he was on seemed to be helping, although he was still somewhat unsteady as she took his arm and they walked into the dining room. She could feel his whole body shake. The Parkinson's was so cruel. |
| 1263 |
He had opted out of her life, although they still loved each other, and always had a good time when they were together. Within minutes he had her laughing about something, and she told him all about her recent shows, trips, and work. She hadn't seen him in six months, although they talked on the phone fairly regularly. |
| 1264 |
He didn't want to know. And she spared him the agony of telling him that she was still in love with him. There were a number of subjects they never touched on, both past and present. In the circumstances, what they shared, over the occasional lunch or dinner, or on the phone, was the best they could do. |
| 1265 |
He had an apartment at the Hotel Carlyle, which he rarely used. And he avoided Boston entirely now, except for medical treatments. Going back to visit his old colleagues was too depressing for him. They were all still at the height of their careers, and his had been over for ten years, far too soon. |
| 1266 |
It always made her sad to see him, but he was the only family she had left. She realized as she walked back into the hotel that she had forgotten to wish him a Merry Christmas, but she was glad she had. It would only have brought back memories for both of them, which would have been much, much too hard. |
| 1267 |
The driver the hotel had provided for her with the van drove them the short distance to an elegant mews house at a fashionable address. The house was tiny, as they all were on the narrow backstreet, and as soon as she struck the brass knocker on the door, a maid in a uniform appeared and let them in. |
| 1268 |
And in close proximity to the sitting room was a dining room painted dark green, and a small kitchen beyond. Each of the rooms was very small, but had lots of charm. They sat there for nearly half an hour, waiting for Finn, as both Fiona and Hope got up to stand near the fire, chatting quietly in whispers. |
| 1269 |
And his cold sounded a lot better. He coughed a few times, but no longer sounded as though he were dying. In fact, he looked surprisingly healthy and full of life. And he had a smile that melted Fiona on the spot, as he had the maid offer her a cup of coffee while he invited Hope to join him upstairs. |
| 1270 |
She followed him up a narrow winding staircase, and found herself in a cozy but larger living room, filled with books, antiques, objects, mementos, old leather couches, and comfortable chairs, and there was a blazing fire in the fireplace. It was the kind of room where you wanted to tuck yourself in and stay for days. |
| 1271 |
It was a wonderful old partner's desk, which he said had been on a ship. It dominated the far corner of the room, where his computer sat on it, looking strangely out of place. "Thank you for coming over," he said kindly. He seemed truly grateful, as the maid walked in, carrying a silver tray with two cups of tea. |
| 1272 |
She was younger than he had expected, and better looking. He was startled by how tiny and delicate she was, and the strength of her violet eyes. "You're a good sport to come over here right before Christmas," he commented, as she looked at the light and shadows on his face. He was going to be easy to photograph. |
| 1273 |
She had liked the way he looked when he was sitting on the couch, relaxing and talking about his Dublin house. And she wanted to shoot him at his desk as well, and maybe a couple of shots standing next to the bookcase. It was always hard to predict where the magic would happen, until they connected as she worked. |
| 1274 |
He seemed like an easy subject; everything about him was open and relaxed. And as she looked into his eyes, she could sense that he was the kind of man you could trust, and rely on. There was a feeling of warmth and humor about him, as though he had a good understanding of people's quirks and the vagaries of life. |
| 1275 |
And she suspected that if he turned the charm on at full volume, he'd be hard to resist. She was glad she wasn't in that position, and was only working with him. He had been very complimentary about her work. She could tell from questions he had asked her, and things he referred to, that he had Googled her. |
| 1276 |
That was always her preference for a more interesting look, but his publisher had been specific about wanting color and Finn said he preferred it too. He said that it felt more real to his readers and made it easier for them to connect with him, than in an arty black and white shot on the back of the book. |
| 1277 |
The photograph they were taking was for his eleventh book, and so far, all of them for the past twenty years had been best sellers. At forty six, he was an institution in American literature, just as she was in her field. It would have been hard to decide which of them was more famous or more respected. |
| 1278 |
And then finally, after a few shots of him leaning against an antique ladder in front of the bookcase, they were through. And just as she said it, he exploded in laughter with a look of joy and release, and she stole one more shot of him, which could just turn out to be the best one. Sometimes that happened. |
| 1279 |
He could see that Hope was a woman who had suffered. He wondered if it was only about the divorce and her husband's illness. Whatever it was, he could tell that she had been to hell and back, and yet she was incredibly balanced and peaceful, as she looked across the table at him with a gentle smile. |
| 1280 |
She hadn't been bored with him for a minute all day. He was knowledgeable on a multitude of subjects, well read, well educated, and brilliant. The opportunity to spend a few hours with him and get to know him better was hard to resist. She had come to London just for him. And Paul had left that day. |
| 1281 |
Fiona got all the equipment organized for Hope back at the hotel, and put away her cameras. It was five o'clock by the time she left, and she said it had been a great day. And after that Hope lay down on her bed for a nap, thinking about her conversation with Finn, and his invitation for that night. |
| 1282 |
The work itself wasn't exciting, but the people she met were. He was such a talented man, as most of her portrait subjects were. She had always loved his work, and it was fascinating discovering the man behind it. He wrote somewhat eerie, even frightening books. She wanted to ask him more about it that night. |
| 1283 |
She fell asleep for two hours, and woke in time to shower and dress for dinner. As she had warned him, she wore black pants and a sweater, and the only pair of high heels she had brought with her, and was relieved that she had brought a fur coat. At least, she wouldn't totally disgrace him at Harry's Bar that night. |
| 1284 |
Hope was sitting in the lobby when Finn walked in promptly five minutes later, in a dark blue suit, and a beautifully cut black cashmere coat. He was a striking figure and heads turned as he greeted her and they walked out together. Several people recognized him as he escorted her to the Jaguar he had left at the curb. |
| 1285 |
Spoiled, difficult, narcissistic, but she was one of the prettiest women I've ever seen. She was young too, and things fell apart very quickly when we had Michael. I don't think either of us was ready to have a child. She stopped modeling, and we partied a lot. I didn't have a lot of money, and we were both miserable. |
| 1286 |
And suddenly I was alone with my son. They weren't easy years. But fortunately, he's a great kid, and he seems to have forgiven me most of the mistakes I made, and there were quite a few along the way. I'd lost my own parents by then, so there was no one to help us, but we managed. I took care of him myself. |
| 1287 |
The academic world was familiar to me, because of my father, although Harvard was more competitive than Dartmouth, loftier maybe, and a little more cutthroat. Teaching wasn't enough for Paul, so he helped to start two companies that made surgical equipment. He got very involved in that, and he did very well with it. |
| 1288 |
I think it's what saved him for the first few years, when he couldn't practice anymore. It took some of the sting out of being sick, for a while anyway, to succeed at something else. And then he got worse. And a lot of things changed. It's hard to see him so sick at his age. He's still a relatively young man. |
| 1289 |
My grandfather had been a landowner in Ireland, and never did much more than that. But my father was more industrious, and had studied in the States. He went back to marry my mother, and brought her over with him, but she never adjusted well to life away from Ireland. She died fairly young, and he not long after. |
| 1290 |
Exchanging their histories and talking about their artistic passions made the evening go quickly, and they were both sorry when the evening came to an end and they left the restaurant after a predictably delicious dinner. Hope had indulged herself with the candies and chocolates Harry's Bar was known for, after dinner. |
| 1291 |
She was tired, but game for one more glass of champagne. Talking to him was delightful, and she hadn't had an evening like this in years, and doubted she would again anytime soon. Her life in New York was quiet and solitary and didn't include nightclubs and fancy dinners, or invitations from handsome men like Finn. |
| 1292 |
Finn didn't seem to be the sort of man to sit around at home at night, except when he was writing. "Thank you for having dinner with me tonight, Hope," he thanked her politely as they got out of the car. It was freezing cold, and he walked her into the lobby as she held her coat tightly around her in the icy wind. |
| 1293 |
He had enjoyed meeting her, and he had no real reason to call her again, until he saw the photographs she took. He was looking forward to seeing them, and talking to her again. He felt an odd connection to her, and wasn't sure why. She was a nice woman, and he had felt as though he could get lost in her eyes. |
| 1294 |
She was very guarded, and yet warm and compassionate at the same time. She was a woman of mystery to him, as parts of him had been to her. And the unanswered questions intrigued them both. They were people who were accustomed to looking into other people's hearts and souls, and yet had been elusive with each other. |
| 1295 |
I'm going to go to Central Park to take photographs of children sledding, very mundane, but appealing. There are no mysteries, only unanswered questions that have no answers, and the memory of people who enter and leave our lives, for a short or long time, and stay only as long as they are meant to. |
| 1296 |
The children were squealing and laughing and having fun, as she discreetly took photographs, zooming in on their faces full of excitement and wonder, and suddenly in a way she hadn't expected it to, the scene shot her backward in time, and a spear lodged in her heart that she couldn't remove, even by turning away. |
| 1297 |
It hadn't happened to her in years. She was still shaken when she got home. She took off her coat and stood staring out the window for a long time, and when she turned away, she noticed Finn's email on her computer from that morning, and read it again. She didn't have the heart or the energy to answer him. |
| 1298 |
She was drained from the emotions she had felt in the park that afternoon. And as she turned away from the computer, she realized with a sinking heart that it was Christmas Eve, which made it worse. She always did everything she could to avoid sentimental situations at Christmas, even more so since the divorce. |
| 1299 |
They had separate lives and interests, and he was a subject at a photo shoot and nothing more than that to her. But she kept thinking of things he had said to her at dinner, and his eyes when he looked at her. She was beginning to feel haunted by him, which was the same thing he had said about her in his email. |
| 1300 |
His email sat on her screen all night and she ignored it, but she read it again before she went to bed, and told herself it didn't mean a thing. But in spite of that, she thought it was best if she didn't respond, and when she climbed the ladder to her sleeping loft, she told herself she'd feel better in the morning. |
| 1301 |
They wished each other a Merry Christmas, stayed off sensitive subjects, and hung up after a few minutes. After that she took out a box of photographs to edit for her next show, and pored over the images for several hours. It was two o'clock in the afternoon before she looked up, and decided to go for a walk. |
| 1302 |
She glanced at the email from Finn again, and turned off the computer. She didn't want to encourage him, or start something she didn't want to finish or pursue. And when she dressed and went out, the air felt brisk. She passed people going to visit each other, and others coming out of the Mercer Hotel after lunch. |
| 1303 |
She thought of skipping dinner, but was hungry, and finally decided to go to the nearest deli, to get a sandwich and some soup. The day had turned out to be a lot easier than the one before, and the following day she was planning to go to her gallery on the Upper East Side to talk to them about her show. |
| 1304 |
And she was amused to see a row of cooked, stuffed turkeys lined up at the deli, ready for anyone who needed an instant Christmas dinner. She ordered a turkey sandwich with a slice of cranberry jelly on it, and a container of chicken soup. The man at the deli knew her, and asked how Christmas Day had been for her. |
| 1305 |
She was hoping not to spill the soup, and that the ice cream, with its proximity to the lukewarm container, wouldn't melt. She was concentrating on not spilling it, as she walked up the steps to her building, and saw a man with his back to her in the doorway, carefully looking for a name on the bell. |
| 1306 |
He was hunched over to see the names better in the dim light, and she was standing behind him, waiting to open the door with her key, when he turned and she stared, with a sharp intake of breath. It was Finn, wearing a black knit cap, jeans, with a heavy black wool coat, and he smiled as he looked at her. |
| 1307 |
It was hard to stay angry at him, and her initial reaction of fear began to dispel as they walked up the stairs. Without further conversation, she led him up to her apartment and unlocked the door. She went to put the food in the kitchen, and rescue the ice cream before it melted, and then she turned to look at him. |
| 1308 |
And her death destroyed her father. It was the last straw for him. He had already been sick for years, and drinking heavily in secret. He stayed drunk for three months when she died. One of his old colleagues at Harvard did an intervention on him, and he put himself in a hospital and dried up after that. |
| 1309 |
She was surprisingly comfortable in his peaceful embrace. No one had done that for years. She couldn't even remember the last time. She was suddenly glad he had come. She hardly knew him, but his being there seemed like a gift. Finn sat there holding her for a long time, and then she smiled up at him. |
| 1310 |
Finn called her the next morning and invited her to breakfast at the Mercer. She had nothing important to do and was delighted to join him. He was waiting for her in the lobby and looked as handsome as he had in London. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater with jeans, with his dark hair freshly brushed. |
| 1311 |
He was thoroughly enjoyable company, interesting to talk to, and suddenly an enormous presence. She had no idea what to make of it, or if she should even try to figure it out. She was wearing gray slacks and a pink sweater when he came to pick her up. And they had a glass of wine before they went out. |
| 1312 |
But maybe it happens that way sometimes, when it's for real. I think at our age, you know what you want, who you are, and what you feel. You know when you've found the right person for you. It doesn't have to take a long time. We're grown ups, we've made mistakes before. We're not innocents anymore. |
| 1313 |
Finn was wilder, more creative, his whole existence was more free form. Paul had been extremely disciplined in every way, and deeply involved in his work. Finn seemed more engaged in life, and the world. And his was a broader world, which appealed to her a lot. Hers had broadened a great deal too in the past few years. |
| 1314 |
She was nervous that he would try to kiss her and she didn't feel ready to yet but he didn't. He was relaxed, but gentlemanly, and respected her boundaries. He could sense too that she wasn't prepared to deal with more than what they were doing. Walking, talking, going out for meals, getting to know each other. |
| 1315 |
He met with his agent to talk about a new book deal. And much to her amazement, she missed him for the few hours he was gone. Other than that, he was with her every minute, except when he left her at her loft at night. He still hadn't kissed her, but he had mentioned again that he was falling in love with her. |
| 1316 |
And there was no one else for her to tell. Mark was her closest friend, and she liked his wife as well. They invited her over to have dinner, but she declined. She didn't want to tell him Finn was in town to see her. She knew Mark would be shocked, or surprised at least, and probably fiercely protective and suspicious. |
| 1317 |
She took an old camera with her, to take shots in black and white. They got there around eleven, and artfully wended their way through the crowd that had been waiting there for hours. The characters around them were extraordinary, and Finn enjoyed watching it through her eyes. They were having a great time. |
| 1318 |
Hope was startled by how fast the relationship was moving, although they hadn't slept together, but she enjoyed his company. She was torn between reminding herself that this was more than likely just a passing thing for him, and wanting to believe it was real, and allowing herself to be vulnerable to him. |
| 1319 |
Her romance with Finn was moving with the speed of sound. "Whatever it is, it's wonderful. I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth." She had a feeling that if she talked to someone about their budding relationship, they wouldn't understand it, and would tell her to take her time before jumping in. |
| 1320 |
They were with each other constantly, except when she went back to her loft to sleep at night. He changed the subject then, and she was relieved. Not only did she have to get used to loving him, his notion of fusion made her uncomfortable, and it wasn't what she wanted in a relationship or had in mind. |
| 1321 |
The party they went to at the museum that night was lively and crowded. It was an important event the opening of a major show. The main curator of the museum came to talk to her and she introduced him to Finn. They chatted for a few minutes, and several photographers snapped their picture for the press. |
| 1322 |
No one who would have seen him would have thought he was a show off, or arrogant in any way. He was more than happy to let Hope be the star she was at the museum event, and he seemed to enjoy talking to lots of people and admiring the art. He was in good spirits when they took a cab back to the hotel. |
| 1323 |
She was thrilled to be going with Finn now, and have the opportunity to share it with him. For a man who loved nature, solitude, and time alone with her, it was the perfect place for them to go. She was determined not to sleep with him that weekend, and already knew what guest room she would put him in. |
| 1324 |
They drove on to Wellfleet after Providence and they reached the house at four in the afternoon, as the light was starting to get dim. The roads had been clear, but it looked like it might snow, and it was bitter cold, with a stiff wind. She directed Finn to drive into the driveway, which was slightly overgrown. |
| 1325 |
The house stood apart from all the others, and there was tall dune grass all around. It seemed bleak at that time of year, and Finn commented that it looked like a Wyeth painting that they'd seen at the museum, which made Hope smile. She'd never thought of the house that way before, but he was right, it did. |
| 1326 |
It was an old barn shaped New England structure, painted gray with white shutters. In summer, there were flowers out front, but there were none now. The gardener she hired to come once a month cut everything back in winter, and he wouldn't even bother to come now until spring. There was nothing for him to do there. |
| 1327 |
It always made her feel peaceful being there. She put an arm around his waist and he leaned down to kiss her, and then she took her keys out of her bag, opened the door, turned off the alarm, and walked in, with Finn right behind her. The shutters were closed against the wind, so she turned on the lights. |
| 1328 |
It was the kind of house every child should spend a summer in, and Hope had, and so had her daughter. There was a big country kitchen, with a round antique table, and blue and white tiles on the walls that had been there since the house was built. The place looked lived in and well worn, and more important, much loved. |
| 1329 |
They set some French cheeses on a platter, and when they sat down at the kitchen table, it was a hearty meal. Finn opened a bottle of red wine he'd bought, and they each had a glass. It was a perfect dinner in the cozy house, and then they sat in front of the fire, telling stories of their respective childhoods. |
| 1330 |
Hers had been simple and wholesome in New Hampshire, near the Dartmouth campus, since her father was an English literature professor there. Her mother had been a talented artist, and her childhood had been happy, despite the fact that she was an only child. She said it had never bothered her not to have siblings. |
| 1331 |
It was where she ultimately met Paul. She met him at nineteen, and married him at twenty one, when he was thirty seven. She said that both her parents had died within the first few years she was married. It was a huge loss to her. Her father died of a heart attack, and within a year, her mother of cancer. |
| 1332 |
I'm not sure they were ever very happy, although they were discreet about it. I never saw them fighting, but there was a distinct chill in our Park Avenue apartment, which my mother hated, because it wasn't Ireland, although our home was beautiful and filled with antiques. She just wasn't a happy woman. |
| 1333 |
You can walk in the hills for hours, amid the wildflowers, without ever seeing a soul. The Irish are an odd combination of soulful, solitary, and then wildly gregarious in the pubs. I think that's how I am, sometimes I just need to be alone, and at other times I love being around people, and having fun. |
| 1334 |
There was a lot of common ground between Finn and Hope, in many ways, although their marriages had been different, and his son was still alive. But there were many common points, and they were nearly the same age, only two years apart. When the fire finally went out, she turned off the lights, and they walked upstairs. |
| 1335 |
She had a small double bed in the cozy room that had been her parents', and the bed always felt too big for her now without Paul. The one in the room Finn was staying in was so small that Hope looked embarrassed and said that maybe they should trade, although hers didn't look big enough for him either. |
| 1336 |
They had known each other for so little time, but she had never felt so close to anyone in her life. For a minute, she wondered if his fusion theory was correct, but she didn't want it to be. She wanted to believe that they could love each other, but keep their distinct lives, personalities, and talents intact. |
| 1337 |
That still felt right to her. Thinking about him, she was awake for a long time. She was remembering the things he had said about his childhood and how lonely it sounded to her. She wondered if that was why he was so anxious to be part of someone else. His mother didn't sound like much of one to her. |
| 1338 |
It felt perfectly natural to her now. She was totally at ease with him. They went to his publishing event the night they got back, and this time he was the center of attention, and she quietly took photographs of him from a distance, smiling softly, and every now and then their eyes would meet across the room. |
| 1339 |
He had made a comment about one of the waiters at a restaurant at the Cape, and accused her half jokingly of flirting with him, which of course she wasn't. She laughed at Finn, and he apologized. It made her feel very young and desirable that he would even worry about it, but she only had eyes for Finn. |
| 1340 |
It was easier not to have to defend it, and just enjoy it privately. And Finn wanted to be alone with her anyway before he left. He said he didn't want anyone taking up their time, which was infinitely precious as the days flew by until he was to leave. He looked mournful the morning she helped him pack his suitcase. |
| 1341 |
He was miserable about leaving, and still nervous about her photo shoot with Rod Beames. He kept bringing it up, and Hope was beginning to feel silly reassuring him. But since they had met and fallen in love with each other after her assignment to shoot him, he was worried about all her portrait sittings now. |
| 1342 |
She had gently told him that the project would probably need considerable intervention and assistance, and she didn't feel ready to take that on, at least not yet. She wanted to discuss it later, after they'd been together for longer, but somewhere deep within her, although it sounded crazy, the idea had some appeal. |
| 1343 |
Particularly when she looked at the photographs of Mimi and remembered how adorable she'd been as a baby. The idea of having a child with Finn was scary, but dazzling. And thinking about it made her feel young again. He insisted that they could do it at their ages, others had, including several of his friends. |
| 1344 |
He was taking the night flight, and would arrive too late for him to call her, but it would be morning for him. "I'll get the house ready for you," he promised. He said he had a lot of cleaning up to do, and he needed to get the furnace man in, so the part of the house they lived in wouldn't be freezing cold. |
| 1345 |
Both of them knew people who had fallen in love in their forties, realized they'd met "the right one" quickly, married within months, and had been happy ever since. But they both knew that it would still be hard to explain to others. They had fallen madly in love and decided to spend their lives together, in a month. |
| 1346 |
And Hope was determined not to say anything to Paul yet. She didn't want to upset him, and had no idea how he'd react. She had been alone for so long, and so accessible to him whenever he wanted, even if it wasn't often, she somehow had a sense that he might be unnerved by her being involved with someone. |
| 1347 |
Hope would have been bothered by it if he had. Paul was very important to her, and she loved him deeply, in a pure way now, and knew she always would, for however long he lived, which she hoped would be a long time. She had talked to him once in January, and he was still on his boat then, sailing toward St. Bart's. |
| 1348 |
She and Finn kissed for a last time, and she waved as he went through security and disappeared, and then she went back to the city in the limo he'd rented. It was the first time she'd been alone in a month and it felt strange. It was small comfort that they wouldn't be wrestling with her narrow bed. |
| 1349 |
Finn liked a lot of attention, engaged in interesting conversations with her at all hours, and wanted to be together all the time. And just for a change, it was almost fun to be on her own again, although she wouldn't have said it to him. He would have been crushed. Her cell phone woke her at three in the morning. |
| 1350 |
He had just arrived. He called to tell her he loved her, and missed her awfully. She thanked him, told him she loved him too, blew him a kiss, and went back to sleep. And he called her again at nine. He told her everything he was doing at the house in preparation for her arrival, and she smiled, listening to him. |
| 1351 |
It was a little trying, but flattering at the same time, as though she were some hot young thing that every man on the planet would want to seduce, which she had pointed out to Finn was hardly the case. But he was jealous anyway. Instead of going out, she had dinner in her room at the Beverly Hills hotel. |
| 1352 |
She went through customs quickly, and Finn was waiting for her as she came through and swept her into his arms. Anyone who saw them would have thought he hadn't seen her for years, and he was carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers, reds and yellows and pinks they were the prettiest flowers she'd ever seen. |
| 1353 |
Finn followed the signs to Russborough, on narrow country roads, driving expertly on the left side, and then turned off finally onto a gravel road. The hills he had talked about were all around them, the Wicklow Mountains. There were forests and fields of wildflowers that had sprung up in the February rains. |
| 1354 |
He started the car again then. It was a dark green Jaguar with tan leather seats, very elegant and masculine, and perfectly suited to him. He told her she could drive it anytime, but she was afraid to drive on the wrong side of the road, so he promised to be her chauffeur wherever she went, which sounded fine to her. |
| 1355 |
Inside the house, there was a long gallery filled with dusty family portraits in a long dark hall with tapestries and somber furniture. There was no proper lighting, and Hope could hardly see the portraits, as she walked past them. Winfred had gone out to get her bags, and Katherine had disappeared to make them tea. |
| 1356 |
Next to it was a library that looked like it housed a million books. Finn led her up the grand staircase, to a floor with half a dozen bedrooms, small dressing rooms, sitting rooms. There were ancient furnishings in them, but all the rooms had dustcovers on the furniture, and the curtains were closed. |
| 1357 |
He had a fire burning brightly for her, and had filled vases with wildflowers in every room. There was a cozy bedroom with a gigantic four poster bed, which she knew instantly was his. And as in his mews house in London, there were stacks of books everywhere, particularly in the room he used as an office. |
| 1358 |
She curtsied with a shy smile at them both, and left. "So what do you think?" he asked her, looking anxious. All morning he had asked himself what he would do if she hated it and ran. He loved the place himself, but he was used to its state of comfortable disrepair, and he didn't even see it anymore. |
| 1359 |
He showed her the enormous bathroom then and the gigantic tub. He ran a bath for her, and she was very glad she'd gotten some sleep on the plane. She could see she wouldn't get much here. She slipped into the warm water in the bathtub, and Finn appeared with her cup of tea, in an exquisite gold Limoges cup. |
| 1360 |
He gave her an old jacket of his, which was enormous on her, and they went to see the stables, the gardens, the park, as it was called, and walked to the edge of the forest nearest the house. There was a heavy mist falling, so he didn't suggest they walk into the hills, which he was anxious to do with her. |
| 1361 |
They chatted with everyone around, and Hope was amused to see grandmothers, children, old men, young ones, and young women coming in and out of the pub. It was like the local social club and had none of the atmosphere of bars in the States. It was kind of like a coffeehouse and bar all rolled into one. |
| 1362 |
They drove back to the house and eventually had what the lo cals referred to as "tea," which was really a light dinner. There were sandwiches, meats, potatoes, cheeses, and a heavy Irish meat soup, all of which filled them both. And after that, they sat by the fire in his little living room upstairs. |
| 1363 |
She had Finn take her into the village to buy wax late that afternoon she wanted to try and work on some of the woodwork and paneling herself. It was going to be a mammoth job. Winfred and Katherine were impressed with what she was doing, and Finn was in awe. And the next day, she did the same on the second floor. |
| 1364 |
He took away all the pieces Finn agreed needed to be worked on, and the following day, she had him drive her to Dublin, where she bought miles and miles of fabric, for upholstery, and some for the bedrooms in pastel satins. She made sure that Finn liked all the colors, and she paid for it herself as a gift to him. |
| 1365 |
The windows looked better with no covering than with the remains of the old ones hanging there. The house already looked cleaner and more cheerful, and she pulled back the deep green velvet curtains in the gallery, so the house didn't look so dark as one walked in. The place was looking better every day. |
| 1366 |
Blaxton House looked the most like Russborough House. And her goal now was to help him get his place into shape. It was too big a job for him alone, and she sensed that money was somewhat tight for him, so she tried to do everything on a budget, and paid for things whenever she could, without offending him. |
| 1367 |
Whenever he had work to do, she spent time on her waxing and polishing project, and room by room, the woodwork was starting to shine. The broken furniture was out being restored. A local upholsterer had taken the pieces to be re covered, and upstairs she had found treasures under the holland covers. |
| 1368 |
She even helped Katherine polish the silver on a rainy afternoon, and that night, they had dinner in the formal dining room, at one end of the enormous table, instead of on trays upstairs. She was wearing jeans and an old sweater of Finn's, which made her look like a little girl. The house was still fairly cold. |
| 1369 |
He said he loved her so much, he just couldn't resist. He insisted he wanted a child with her, and she reminded him that it was too soon. She didn't say it to him, but she didn't want to have a baby unless they were married, and that wasn't a certainty yet, although it was looking more and more likely. |
| 1370 |
That was a major decision she wasn't ready to undertake yet. It was one thing helping him fix up his house, another having a child. "We'll see," she said, as she cuddled into his arms and nestled up against him, smiling happily, thinking that these were the best days in her life, or surely in a very, very long time. |
| 1371 |
He made reservations at the Ritz for them, which was her favorite hotel, and that weekend they flew to Paris. They were going to London on the way back, which was perfect for her, since she wanted to meet with the photography curator at the Tate Modern, and called the day before they left to make an appointment. |
| 1372 |
It was unlikely that he would outlive her, a thought that made her very sad. And all the money she had came from him. He had given her a staggering settlement in the divorce, over her protests, but he had insisted that he wanted her set for life, and whatever was left when he died, was coming to her too. |
| 1373 |
Maybe in a few months, if all went well, he would let her help financially with restoring the house. She really wanted to do it. After that, they walked in the Tuileries, went to the Louvre, and walked back to the Ritz for their last night. It had been a heavenly weekend, just like everything else they did together. |
| 1374 |
But he was trying to make her feel that way, and had succeeded. As a result, she rushed through the meeting, didn't cover all the questions she wanted to ask, and was back at his house in two hours. He was sitting on the couch, reading a book and sulking. He looked up with a sullen expression when she walked in. |
| 1375 |
Hope felt drained. She felt as though she were on an express train she hadn't bought a ticket for, and didn't want to be on, to a destination she hadn't chosen in the first place. She had just been reading the travel brochures, and Finn was trying to make the decisions for her, about where they were going and when. |
| 1376 |
And eventually, if necessary, donor eggs. The doctor handed Hope a tube of progesterone cream and told her how to use it every month from ovulation to menstruation, to stimulate implantation and discourage spontaneous abortion. And she told her to see the nurse on the way out for an ovulation predictor kit. |
| 1377 |
She was exhausted, and felt as though she'd been dragged behind a horse, holding on by her teeth. It had been a draining emotional experience for her. Finn didn't say anything, and went to pour her a glass of wine. She looked as though she needed it. She started to turn it down, and then thought better of it. |
| 1378 |
He poured her another glass of wine, and she drank that one too. She was seriously upset, but started to calm down after her third glass, and then started crying again, and Finn wrapped her in his arms and took her upstairs. He ran a warm bath for her, and she slipped gratefully into it, and closed her eyes. |
| 1379 |
But she needed the wine to get over the afternoon, and as she finished the champagne in the flute he had handed her, he took the glass from her hand and set it down. He had emptied his glass too. And then as always happened when they bathed together, he began to make overtures that neither of them could resist. |
| 1380 |
He couldn't stand seeing her leave, and he was already depressed. He kissed her goodbye at the airport, and made her promise to call him the moment she arrived. She smiled as she kissed him. It was sweet really, even if it was a little silly at their age, to be so upset about being apart for a few weeks. |
| 1381 |
Working in New York was doing her good. It revitalized her, and made her excited about seeing him again. She didn't want to feel smothered by being chained to him, which was what he would have liked. Having a few weeks of her own life brought her perspective and independence again, which was important to her. |
| 1382 |
She planned to eventually, but not for a while. She had no idea how he'd react, or if he would be sad. She had spoken to him the day before. He was at Harvard for treatment, and he hadn't sounded well at all, but he assured her he was doing fine. It saddened her, and she worried about him a great deal. |
| 1383 |
She drew a long breath, and walked into the bathroom with the test he had given her. She was sure it was going to be fine, but it scared her anyway. She followed the directions to the letter, set it on the counter afterward, and walked away. The test took five full minutes, and it seemed like an eternity to her. |
| 1384 |
She hadn't had a scare like this in years. Not since she was in her late twenties, and hadn't wanted to be pregnant then either. Paul had only wanted one child, and Mimi was enough for her. As it turned out, she hadn't been pregnant, and was surprised to find that she was more disappointed than relieved. |
| 1385 |
And it had never happened again. They were always careful, and not as abandoned and passionate as she and Finn. She and Paul had made a careful, conscious joint decision to have Mimi and it didn't happen on a bathroom floor. She walked back to her bathroom counter as though she were approaching a snake. |
| 1386 |
One line you're not pregnant, two you are. Anyone could have figured it out. From the distance, she saw one line, and heaved a sigh of relief. She approached and picked it up just to be sure, and was prepared to let out a scream of delight over the negative result, and then she saw it. The second line. |
| 1387 |
Two lines, although the second one was fainter than the first, which the instructions had said still meant a positive result. Shit. She stared at it in horror, set it down, and picked it up again. Still two lines. Her urine had done whatever it was supposed to under the white plastic holder. Two lines. |
| 1388 |
She was forty four years old, and she was pregnant. She sat down on the edge of the tub shaking, with the test still in her hand, and then she threw it away. She thought about using the second one, but she knew she'd get the same result. She had been ignoring it, but her breasts had been sore for the last two days. |
| 1389 |
He had gotten her drunk and tricked her and she had let him, and she wondered if somewhere deep within, she wanted this baby too. She loved him, but not even three months after she had met him, she was pregnant with his child. And in some hidden, distant part of her, she wanted it too. She felt panicked and confused. |
| 1390 |
She needed time to absorb the idea, and decide how she felt about it. She walked into the living room, sat staring into space, and a few minutes later, he called her. She felt guilty doing it, but she didn't want to tell him yet. She already knew what his reaction would be. The one she wasn't sure of yet was her own. |
| 1391 |
He was so sweet about it that he slowly pulled her out of her terror, and into the deep waters of his excitement with him. She wondered if maybe it would be okay after all. She hoped it would. She saw Mimi's photographs as she spoke to him, and prayed she would approve. And Hope suddenly panicked again. |
| 1392 |
It was hard to believe she was pregnant, but maybe it was meant to be. Destiny had intervened. She loved him, and this was a huge commitment. She knew they would marry at some point, and would have anyway, although probably sooner now. She would have to tell Paul, and she was sure he would be shocked too. |
| 1393 |
This clearly was his dream, and it was slowly becoming hers. She still had to get used to the idea. It had been a long time since she'd been pregnant, and it brought back a lot of tender memories for her. Secretly, she hoped it would be a girl, and so did Finn. He said he wanted a daughter who looked just like Hope. |
| 1394 |
She was going through a beautiful old desk in the library two days after she'd come back to Ireland, trying to decide whether to have it restored or not, or just polish it herself, when she opened a drawer, and at the back of it, found a photograph of a strikingly beautiful young woman standing next to Finn. |
| 1395 |
He had an arm around her shoulders, and was so obviously enamored with her that Hope wondered if it was Michael's mother. She had never seen any photographs of her. And there were several more in another drawer of the desk. She wasn't sure if she should mention it to Finn or not, and she was curious. |
| 1396 |
These were obviously troubled girls in desperate situations, one pregnant out of wedlock with an alcoholic father to face and a boyfriend she thought had left her, and the other trapped in a loveless marriage with a child she didn't want and a husband Finn said she hated. It was upsetting to think about. |
| 1397 |
Hope put the photographs back in the drawer, and decided not to restore the desk. She went for a walk alone after that, and thought about Finn. He had had turmoil and upset with the women in his life, and the death of a young girl on his conscience for more than twenty years. It was a lot to live with. |
| 1398 |
And she thought his question to her had been odd. Maybe he just wanted to reassure himself that no matter what happened, he would never have to face something like that again. And with Hope there was no risk. Suicide was not an option for her. If her daughter's death hadn't destroyed her, she knew that nothing would. |
| 1399 |
He would have been justifiably wounded that she would suspect him of such a thing. She felt better when she got back to the house, and decided to empty two closets that were full of ancient dusty linens. She was sneezing incessantly at the top of a ladder when Finn found her there late that afternoon. |
| 1400 |
Most of them were tablecloths no one had used for years, and the rest were sheets for beds in sizes that no longer existed. "I will, but we had to at least pull them out first. We can't let them sit up there forever." She was becoming the unofficial mistress of the manor, and Finn was pleased to see it. |
| 1401 |
He had come home to his roots, and reclaimed them. It was a major step for him. And he felt as though he had been waiting to do that all his life, and often said that to her. He knew that his mother would have been proud of him, if she were still alive to see it. And Hope loved sharing the experience with him. |
| 1402 |
For the next several weeks, Finn continued to work on his book, and Hope took a few pictures. She took them discreetly in the pub sometimes, mostly of old people, and no one seemed to mind. Most of them were flattered. After Finn finished work in the afternoons, they went for long quiet walks in the hills. |
| 1403 |
As he had even before he met her, he loved the photographs she took. And he particularly liked the series she was doing of old men and women in the pubs. They had wonderful faces and expressive eyes, and seen through Hope's lens, they were transfused with all the tenderness and pathos of the human spirit. |
| 1404 |
They had tremendous respect for each other's work. No one had taken as great an interest in her work before, nor had anyone in his. They talked about the baby, although she didn't like to dwell on the subject. She didn't want to get her hopes up too much now that she had gotten comfortable with the idea. |
| 1405 |
Until then, she was hopeful and excited, but trying to remain calm and realistic, and somewhat reserved. Finn had already given his whole heart to it, and she had long since forgiven him for the hideous afternoon at the fertility doctor in London, and even for getting her drunk and pregnant later that afternoon. |
| 1406 |
She was feeling mellow, happy, and very much in love. They were talking about getting married, and they both loved the idea. All Hope wanted was to spend the rest of her life with him, and he felt exactly the same way. And their plans to marry in the near future made her feel very much mistress of his home. |
| 1407 |
She was emptying drawers in the dining room one day, in her continuing efforts to purge the house of old, meaningless things, when she came upon a lease that had just been tossed into a bottom drawer. And it looked relatively new. She was going to leave it on Finn's desk, and then realized what it was. |
| 1408 |
She thought about putting the lease back in the drawer, and not mentioning it to him. It wasn't really any of her business, but it troubled her all that afternoon. It wasn't just that he had lied to her, but it seemed so odd to her that he would tell her he owned it, when in fact it was only rented. |
| 1409 |
And finally, she couldn't stand it, and decided to clear the air with him. It seemed like an important point to her. Honesty was a crucial part of the relationship they were building, which they both hoped would last for years, hopefully forever. And she wanted no secrets between them. She had none from him. |
| 1410 |
It wasn't really a lie, or not a big one anyway, and she told herself that he owed her no explanations, neither about the house, nor about his financial situation, although he was her baby's father and the man she loved. But for the moment anyway, he was not responsible for her, and probably never would be financially. |
| 1411 |
It was obvious he wasn't after her money, and she loved him. They loved each other, and shared a sacred trust and bond, particularly now with the baby. She trusted Finn completely, and knew she wasn't wrong. He was a good man, and a solid person, even if he didn't have a lot of money. That meant nothing to her. |
| 1412 |
She was a woman of her word. "You can accept the offer anytime you like," she said, with a gentle hand on his neck as the wind howled outside. It was raining hard. Spring didn't come easily in Ireland, and it was an odd feeling for her, knowing this was going to be her home now, but she loved it too. |
| 1413 |
And if their relationship failed, she was still willing to let him buy the house from her over time. It was the ideal arrangement for him, and he said she was the most generous woman in the world. Hope insisted it was a blessing for them both. She had asked no one's advice and needed no one's permission. |
| 1414 |
It was a lot for Finn's son to swallow at one gulp. Hope wanted to give him time to meet her and adjust to the idea. And she had to tell Paul, and she knew it might be a blow for him at first, knowing she was with another man, and having his child. They needed time for others to get used to their plans. |
| 1415 |
Hope hadn't sounded like that in years. And for the next two months, she and Finn never stopped. Hope hired a contractor and started doing the repairs the house needed so badly. They had to put a new roof on, which cost a fortune but was worth it. Windows were sealed that had leaked for fifty years. |
| 1416 |
And she was buying antiques in shops and at auctions, to fill the house with the furniture it deserved. And every time Finn saw her, she was carrying something, dragging a box, climbing up a ladder, or stripping a paneled wall. She boxed up the books in the library so they could work on the shelves. |
| 1417 |
She still acted as she had when she was pregnant with Mimi, and Finn reminded her that she was no longer twenty two years old. Sometimes Hope remembered to be careful, and the rest of the time she laughed at him and told him that she wasn't sick. She had never felt better or been happier in her life. |
| 1418 |
He believed her, although she didn't look well. He thought that she looked pale, and she was obviously in pain. He came up to check on her an hour later, and found her on the bathroom floor, in a pool of blood, barely able to crawl, as she looked up at him. He panicked when he saw her and rushed for the phone. |
| 1419 |
She lay in bed, inconsolable, thinking of everything he'd said to her, and the nurse finally gave her a shot as she cried incoherently, and when she woke up hours later, Finn was sitting next to her again. He still looked grim, but he was holding her hand. "I'm sorry for what I said," he said gruffly. |
| 1420 |
He refused to accept the idea that age might have been a factor, or it could have happened anyway. He never missed an opportunity to tell her that it was her fault. He kept telling her they'd both feel better when she got pregnant again and did it right this time, which only exacerbated her own unspoken guilt. |
| 1421 |
She had apologized to him a thousand times. Finn acted like she had betrayed him, and their child. She felt like a murderess every time she looked at him, and she wondered if he'd ever forgive her. All he talked about was doing it again. And it was almost a relief to get on the plane to New York and get away from him. |
| 1422 |
She managed to finish all her assignments in New York, and had been hoping to see Paul since she hadn't seen him in six months, which was far too long. But when she called him on his cell phone, he said he was in Germany, checking out a new treatment for Parkinson's, and he planned to stay there for a while. |
| 1423 |
There had been a cruelty to it that was hard to get over now. It was the first time he had been unkind to her in the six months they'd been together, and the first time a shadow had come between them. Mark had gotten her several assignments for the fall, and she wasn't sure if she should take them or not. |
| 1424 |
She went to see her doctor in New York, who told her that she had to wait at least three months before trying to get pregnant again, and reminded her sensibly that she might have lost the baby anyway, even if she'd stayed in bed. But after everything Finn had said to her, she felt responsible and depressed. |
| 1425 |
Finn arrived in New York as soon as she finished her work. He was in better spirits than when she had left him, and he was very loving to her. Hope tried to stay off the subject of the miscarriage, but he mentioned to her several times that he wanted her to see the fertility doctor in London when she went back. |
| 1426 |
It said a lot for Finn that he had single handedly brought up such a wonderful boy, and Hope thought it spoke well of him as a father that their relationship was so good. Hope invited Michael to the Cape, but he said he was spending the summer in California with his maternal grandparents, as he did every year. |
| 1427 |
When she and Finn got to the Cape, it was as though nothing bad had happened. He didn't mention the miscarriage again, he stopped accusing her and making caustic remarks that made her cringe. He was as loving, kind, and gentle as ever. He was the Finn she had fallen in love with seven months before, only better. |
| 1428 |
Her only disappointment was that he refused to meet any of her friends at the Cape. She and Paul had had an open door policy at the house, and their friends had dropped in often. Finn told her he didn't want that happening, it disturbed his work, and he was uncomfortable meeting them whenever it happened. |
| 1429 |
Several people told him they loved his work, and even then he was chilly, and insisted that he and Hope leave early. When she questioned him about it the next day, he said he hated that kind of suburban summer community and had nothing in common with them. And what was the point of meeting them? They lived in Ireland. |
| 1430 |
He complained if she went to the grocery store without him. He wanted to go everywhere with her. It was still flattering in some ways, but there were times when she found it oppressive. And he told her that he liked her Cape Cod house much better in winter than in summer, when it was peaceful and the area was deserted. |
| 1431 |
At times it left her feeling isolated. He insisted that it was more romantic that way, and he didn't want to share her. And he was so loving to her that she really couldn't complain. Whatever momentary rift had happened to them around the miscarriage was finally healed and forgotten by the end of the summer. |
| 1432 |
When she saw Mark, he told her he had a fabulous assignment for her in South America in October, and she had to admit it sounded good to her too, but she hesitated to do it. She knew Finn would be upset, and if she happened to get pregnant again, he wouldn't want her to fly, although her doctor said she could. |
| 1433 |
And his unkindness over the miscarriage had been some kind of slip. She was convinced of it, and he had been better than ever in the months since. She was willing to adjust her work schedule for a while to suit him, and she already had three good assignments lined up for November, she didn't need another one. |
| 1434 |
She had done as much for Mimi when she was young. But Mimi had been her child, not a man. Hope felt that she had already lost so many people she loved in her life that she didn't want to take the chance of losing another. And maybe if she made Finn mad enough, as she had over the miscarriage, he would leave. |
| 1435 |
She didn't want to risk it. She saw Paul the day she left, and she had been planning to tell him about Finn, and that they were getting married, but he looked so sick that she didn't have the heart to tell him. She had to help him feed himself, he could hardly walk now, and he had aged twenty years in the last one. |
| 1436 |
He was on his way to Boston for treatment, and she cried on the way to the airport after she left him. It was terrible watching him slip away and he looked so frail. She was still depressed about it when she got on the plane. She slept most of the way to Dublin, and it was early morning when she got there. |
| 1437 |
Finn was waiting for her with the broad slow smile she knew so well and loved so much. The moment she saw him, she knew that all was well in their world. He drove her home to Blaxton House, and ten minutes after they got there, they were in bed. He was more passionate toward her than ever, and more loving. |
| 1438 |
She was beginning to think that he was right, and being alone was better. Every moment they shared was loving and romantic. It was impossible to complain about that. And by the end of the afternoon, after surveying their domain with pleasure, they walked back up the stairs hand in hand and went back to bed. |
| 1439 |
She didn't want to intrude on them, they had so little time together. And she was happy to have him there. She had arranged one of the newly painted guest rooms for Michael, with an enormous bowl of yellow flowers. She'd bought some magazines in town for him, and tried to think of everything he might like. |
| 1440 |
She knew how much he and Finn loved each other, after their years alone while Michael was growing up, and she was looking forward to getting to know him better. Finn was taking him to fish at the Blessington Lakes for a few days, he had made arrangements for hang gliding, and was planning to rent some horses. |
| 1441 |
He didn't need a single other soul to be there. This was a far cry from the highly social animal she had believed him to be when they met. In reality, Finn was nearly a hermit. And the only person he wanted to be with was her. He said it was a sign of the immensity of his love for her, and she believed him. |
| 1442 |
Hope thought that there were other ways to prove it. She showed Michael around, through all the changes and restorations they'd done. The painting that had been done over the summer was a vast improvement over the dingy walls. She had finally gotten rid of the rugs and had the beautiful old floors redone. |
| 1443 |
It was a very important subject to lie about, the entire youth and childhood of his son, and his relationship with him. She wondered why Finn had done it, and had no idea how she'd ever broach the subject with him. She didn't want him to feel cornered, but she knew that at some point, they'd have to clear it up. |
| 1444 |
She knew now that he had lied to her, and nothing would be comfortable between them until he told her why. The three of them went to the local pub for dinner that night, and over beer Finn said something about he and Hope planning to get married sometime. Michael nodded and seemed pleased for them in a remote way. |
| 1445 |
She realized then that Finn really wanted to do it alone, just as he had said. That sounded sad to her, but she didn't comment. She had very little to say that night, and she and Michael avoided looking at each other. She hugged him the next day before he left, and thanked him for coming to see them. |
| 1446 |
Given what Michael had told her the day before, she was surprised that he came at all. She was still thinking about it when Finn came back from the airport, and she looked at him strangely. Finn picked up on it and asked her what was wrong. She was about to say nothing, and then decided to be honest with him. |
| 1447 |
But they had gotten two beautiful pieces. They had them shipped home, and flew back to Dublin that night. It was a beautiful October night when they got there, and they were both happy to get home. The house was quiet and peaceful, and they figured out where they would put the new antiques. They agreed on everything. |
| 1448 |
Finn had counted on that. But it was a pretty shocking story, and if it was true, she knew he must be in dire financial straits, and even more so if they sued him, which was probably why he hadn't told her. He was like a kid hiding a bad report card from his parents. But Hope also realized this was far more serious. |
| 1449 |
He was lying to her about what was happening in his life, not just the past. And all he wanted to talk to her about was getting pregnant. She thought of something else then, and checked the bank records after she talked to Mark. Finn hadn't paid the rent he owed her monthly since they bought the house in April. |
| 1450 |
She knew that if he had the rent money, he would have paid. And he hadn't. She had never thought to check, since it was just a token payment anyway. She used it as a way of opening the topic of conversation that night, and asked him if everything was all right, since she had noticed that he hadn't paid his rent. |
| 1451 |
She didn't ask him about it again, but he had just flunked the test, and it remained an obstacle between them for the next several weeks while she worried about it, and then packed for her trip to New York. Finn walked in while she was closing her suitcases and instantly looked like an abandoned child. |
| 1452 |
He still hadn't told her the truth about his contract, and if everything Mark said was true, his current publishing situation was disastrous. He was still working on his book, but she had never realized, when she saw him do it, that he was already two books late. He never told her, and seemed almost cavalier about it. |
| 1453 |
And for the moment, he clearly wasn't. "I want you to cancel your trip," Finn said as he held her down on the bed and tickled her. And in spite of herself, she laughed. He was like a child sometimes, a big, beautiful boy, but he was also lying to his mommy, and they were man sized lies and getting bigger. |
| 1454 |
But if he had been fired by his publisher and was getting sued, it put him at a disadvantage, and probably hurt his ego, in the face of her steady, solid, constantly rising career. She didn't know what to say, and he wasn't talking about his publishing problem at all. "I can't cancel my trip," she told him. |
| 1455 |
In his shoes, she would have been panicking, and perhaps he was, and so hiding it from her to save face. They were suing him for more than two million dollars, and interest, three million in all. It was a very, very big deal, and he had no way to pay for it, she knew, if he lost. Fortunately, the house was in her name. |
| 1456 |
She put her head back against the seat and spent the rest of the flight trying to figure out what was happening. She was feeling confused. Most of the time, he was the most lovable man she had ever known. But then there had been his viciousness when she lost the baby, his anger, and blaming her unfairly. |
| 1457 |
She had given herself two days to get organized before she had to do the first shoot, and she went to see Mark Webber the next day. He was surprised to see her in his office. She never dropped in without calling first, and he could see she was upset. He led her into his private office and closed the door behind him. |
| 1458 |
She was even nicer to him than she would have been normally because she felt so guilty about what Mark was doing on her behalf. But Mark was right, it was smart. And if they didn't find any skeletons in his past, or problems, except the lawsuit, Hope knew she didn't need to worry and could marry Finn in peace. |
| 1459 |
Hope found it unbelievably hard to work the next day. She was nervous and distracted, and couldn't make a decent connection with her subject, which was unheard of for her. She finally forced herself to concentrate with enormous effort, and she managed to do the shoot, but it wasn't one of her best days. |
| 1460 |
Paul was doing better but not great, and he slept through most of Hope's visit. She sat next to him, holding his hand, and now and then he opened his eyes and smiled at her. It was painful to think that he had once been a vital man, brilliant in his field, full of life in every way, and now it had come to this. |
| 1461 |
She was in a terrible mood. Finn seemed to be upsetting her constantly all of a sudden. He was unhappy that she was away, and said his writing wasn't going well. And Hope was waiting to hear from the investigator Mark had hired, and nervous about what he was going to say. She hoped that everything would be okay. |
| 1462 |
It didn't make up for the fact that Finn was lying to her about his current publishing situation, but at least if everything else was in order, she could tell herself that he was reacting badly to a difficult situation. That would be forgivable at least. She didn't hear from Mark until the end of the week. |
| 1463 |
The investigator had been told to send the information through him. Mark called Hope on Friday afternoon. He asked her if she could come to his office, he said he had some files and photographs to share with her. He didn't sound particularly happy, and Hope didn't ask him any questions until she got to his office. |
| 1464 |
After Finn was a longshoreman, he seems to have done a lot of things, waiter, chauffeur, doorman, barker at a strip joint. He drove a truck and delivered papers, and I guess he started writing fairly young and sold some stories. After college, his brother doesn't know a lot about what happened to him. |
| 1465 |
Maybe he's ashamed of where he comes from, which is sad for him. But marrying a woman and claiming you're someone and something you're not doesn't show much integrity on his part, and it's none of my business, if you love the guy, but I don't like the smell of it for you. The guy is a first class liar. |
| 1466 |
Don't corner the guy and stick this stuff in his face. Use it for yourself, to make a good decision. But be very, very careful how you handle him. You don't want to wake up a sleeping demon. For what it's worth, his brother says he's a sociopath. But he's not a shrink. He's just a cop who has a crazy brother. |
| 1467 |
The man running the Dublin office now worked with us for several years in New York, and he's a good solid man, and an excellent attorney. I got his phone number this morning, and his cell phone, and they're going to contact him and give him your name. He may even have done some work for you while he was here. |
| 1468 |
She was in the middle of a messy situation, with a man who was a loose cannon, dishonest at best, and she had some difficult decisions to make. He didn't sound dangerous to Mark, from everything Hope had said, but it wasn't going to be pleasant for her dealing with it. He hated knowing she was so far away. |
| 1469 |
The doctor knew that if there was, she would come back immediately. He had known them both when they were married, and he had always been sorry about the terrible turns of fate that had befallen them, first with Paul's illness, his forced retirement, their daughter's death, and Paul's decision to divorce. |
| 1470 |
Hope called Finn before leaving New York, to tell him she was coming and he was ecstatic. It made her sad to hear how happy he was. After the lies she had just discovered, she felt as though the bottom was falling out of their world. She hoped that they could get it on track again, and put it behind them. |
| 1471 |
None of those things would make her think less of him, but lying did. And it unnerved her. She no longer knew what to believe or trust. She wanted to condemn the action, not the man. She still believed that he was a good man. But he still hadn't told her about his current disaster with his contract. |
| 1472 |
She was desperately sad. She loved him, and didn't want him to be afraid to tell her the truth. "It's about goddamn time you came home," he said, grinning broadly, and she noticed that he sounded more than a little drunk. He told her the weather was terrible, and that he had been depressed ever since she left. |
| 1473 |
It hadn't been a great trip. She hadn't even enjoyed her work this time. She had spent the whole three weeks deeply upset about him. And on the plane, she agonized over what to do about the investigator's report. You couldn't unring a bell. But along with the sound of fear in her head, there was love. |
| 1474 |
And she didn't want to humiliate him by confronting him with the report. He looked tired when he met her at the airport, and she noticed that he had dark circles under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept. She wasn't even happy to see the house this time. It was freezing cold, and he had forgotten to turn up the heat. |
| 1475 |
And trying not to think about any of it, and the things his brother had said about him, she let him slowly peel off her clothes, and in spite of everything that she was thinking, she felt herself become rapidly aroused. If nothing else, he had a magic touch. But even though she loved him, that wasn't enough. |
| 1476 |
With everything she had just learned about him, she needed time to think about it. And she was still waiting to hear the rest. She realized that she didn't want to confront Finn now until she knew it all. Maybe the rest of the story would be different, and closer to the truth as she knew it, from Finn. |
| 1477 |
Nothing seemed to be going right. And he was suddenly putting a lot of pressure on her. Given the lies he had told her, she felt he had no right. But he didn't have even the remotest suspicion that she knew he was lying. Now they were both playing the same game, and Hope hated it, and could hardly look him in the eye. |
| 1478 |
Heads of state want you to shoot their portraits, and every magazine in the world wants to buy your work. What the hell is there for you to be embarrassed about? I hit a dry spell for a while, didn't deliver two fucking books, and the next thing I know those assholes are suing me for almost three million dollars. |
| 1479 |
They were not off to a good start, to say the least, but it had to be said. She could no longer pretend that she believed everything he said, because she didn't. But she found herself thinking of Mark's words too, as she walked around the garden to get some air. It wasn't a good idea to corner Finn in his lies. |
| 1480 |
Hope still believed they could turn it around, and she wanted Finn to help her do it. She couldn't do it alone. She walked up the front steps with a heavy heart, as Finn drove up to the house again, and when he got out of the car, he looked apologetic. He came to walk beside her, and turned her around to look at him. |
| 1481 |
He was too ashamed about his real childhood to tell her the truth about it. Compared to her storybook happy childhood in New Hampshire, his had been a nightmare. She just didn't want him lying anymore about his present life. And she was sorry to hear how broke he was, although it didn't surprise her. |
| 1482 |
She assumed he meant a few thousand dollars for minor expenses. She could live with that, although it felt a little awkward to be discussing it. But they were almost married. She was still hoping to get him to wait till June now, but she hadn't said that to him again, since he got so upset when she did before. |
| 1483 |
Suddenly he wanted money, and he alternated between his old sweetness, and being angry and accusatory a lot of the time. This was not the Finn she had fallen in love with. It was a new one who upset her a lot of the time, and then would suddenly revert back to being loving again. But he did not look loving now. |
| 1484 |
It was relatively simple and said that what was Finn's was his, and what was hers was hers. For obvious reasons, she didn't want to commingle funds with him. Paul had given her that money, and she was keeping good track of it. "I had no idea you were cheap," he said bluntly, as he took another sharp turn in the road. |
| 1485 |
Five million dollars was ten percent of what Paul had given her after twenty years. They drove the rest of the way home in stony silence, and when he came to a sharp stop in front, she got out and walked into the house. She was extremely upset by his request, and he was even more so about her refusal. |
| 1486 |
She wondered now if maybe he was. She also recalled reading an article about something called "intermittent reinforcement," where people were alternately abusive and loving, and their victims were so confused, they became more determined than ever to work things out. She felt like that now. Her head was spinning. |
| 1487 |
And she hadn't appreciated the comment about marrying Winfred either, if she didn't want to pay up. Finn was being rude, and mean. And tipping his hand in a frightening way. Hope didn't say another word to him. She turned around and walked into their bedroom and went to bed. She didn't hear him come in that night. |
| 1488 |
From the day Finn first asked her for money, things went steadily downhill. The tension between them was unbearable, the arguments were constant, his drinking increased noticeably, and the conversation was always the same. He wanted four or five million dollars from her, no questions asked, in cash. |
| 1489 |
And on some days, she wondered if that man, of the first eleven months, was even real. By Thanksgiving, she was beginning to wonder if he ever had been. Maybe the man she had known and loved was an act Finn had put on to suck her in, and this one was the real one. She no longer had any idea what to think. |
| 1490 |
On Thanksgiving she made a traditional turkey dinner for them, which was ruined when he started to argue with her halfway through the meal. It was the same horrifying conversation about the money he wanted, and why he felt she should give it to him. She finally got up and left the table without finishing her dinner. |
| 1491 |
He woke her in the middle of the night, and started arguing with her again, on the same agonizing subject, until she finally fell asleep. She woke up in the morning and he served her breakfast in bed, and was his old attentive, good humored, loving self. She felt as though she were losing her mind, or he was. |
| 1492 |
She was most afraid that it was her, and when she said something about his waking her during the night to argue with her, he insisted that he hadn't, and she felt crazier than ever and wondered if she had dreamed it. She needed to talk to someone, to try and make sense of it, but there was no one to talk to. |
| 1493 |
She called Finn once, but explained that she couldn't speak to him from Paul's room, and he said he understood and was very sweet to her, which seemed strange to her again. He was mean to her so often now, and then loving at other times. She almost hated talking to him, because she never knew which one he'd be. |
| 1494 |
He was calling her often, but a lot of the time, she wasn't answering the phone. And then afterward he'd ask her where she'd been and with whom. She usually told him she'd been asleep. Sometimes she just left her cell phone in the apartment and went out. Mark called her two days later and sounded grim. |
| 1495 |
Some he had never mentioned at all. The report started where the last one had left off, after his childhood and youth, early jobs, and went on to tell about his marriage to Michael's mother. It said she was a model, with some moderate success, and had married Finn when she was twenty one and he was twenty. |
| 1496 |
The report said that they had been separated several times, both had committed infidelities, but had gone back together, and that they had gotten into a severe accident on the highway, coming back from a party late one night on Long Island. Finn had been drinking heavily that night, and was at the wheel. |
| 1497 |
He had made no effort whatsoever to save her life. Investigations afterward had determined that their marriage was in trouble, and Finn had asked her for a divorce, which she had refused. There was some question as to whether he had caused the accident, but whether he had or not, he had let her die. |
| 1498 |
Just a crook or a man desperate for money. He had also attempted to invade monies that had gone to the boy directly from his mother, and her parents were able to stop Finn's attempts to get money from his son as well. Hope couldn't help wondering if Michael knew about that. He knew his father was a liar. |
| 1499 |
His finances had always been shaky throughout the years, despite his literary success, and his appetite for money was apparently voracious. There was an additional page about his publisher's current lawsuit against him, and a list of other lawsuits that had been filed against him, usually without success. |
| 1500 |
All together it painted a picture of a man who exploited women, and all the subjects interviewed said he was a pathological liar. Two of them said he was a sociopath, and an unnamed source at his publisher said they considered him unreliable, untrustworthy, unethical, and incapable of following rules of any kind. |
| 1501 |
The question had a whole new meaning now. She was surprised to find that she was shaking as she thought about it all and tried to absorb what she'd just read. It was horrifying to think that all those frightening stories and details of his life had slipped through the cracks over the years and become obscured. |
| 1502 |
He was charming, as they said, and extremely loving in the beginning, but almost every one of them considered him a dangerous man. "Now what do I do?" she said almost to herself, staring out the window into space, thinking about Finn, wanting with all her heart for him to be who he had been at first. |
| 1503 |
She couldn't help wondering if his late wife's parents blamed him because they couldn't accept their daughter's death, and it was easier to blame him. She wanted to believe that, and was wrestling with herself. She tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it was hard to do in light of the report. |
| 1504 |
The silence in her apartment was deafening after Mark left. All she could think of now were those wonderful months she had shared with Finn, how completely she had believed and loved him, how real it seemed. Tears rolled down her cheeks, knowing there was a strong possibility now that every moment of it had been a lie. |
| 1505 |
The situation there had been perfect for him. He didn't know the nature of the problem, but he knew who Hope was, and that she was an important client of the firm. He was well aware of the hour in New York, and although he didn't know her, he could hear a note of tension in her voice when she introduced herself. |
| 1506 |
She didn't even know what she wanted from him, or what she would do yet, and it was a little crazy to ask advice from a total stranger. She knew she needed help, or might, but she wasn't sure with what. He wasn't a bodyguard or a psychologist, if she needed either, and she felt a little foolish calling him. |
| 1507 |
She felt a little silly explaining it to him, as though what she wanted was advice to the lovelorn, and maybe she did. But this wasn't just about being lovelorn, it was about assessing danger and potential risk. It all depended on who Finn really was, what she meant to him, and how desperate or dishonest he was. |
| 1508 |
That's not at all what his father told me. I asked him about it, and Finn said he was embarrassed to admit that he hadn't brought up his son. He has never admitted that he scarcely knew him. He also told me that he and his wife weren't getting along when she died, and they probably would have divorced eventually. |
| 1509 |
He's in financial trouble, which was the third lie that got me worried. He told me he had just signed a new contract with his publisher, for a lot of money. We celebrated it, in fact. As it turns out, he owes them two books, they broke his contract, and are suing him for close to three million dollars. |
| 1510 |
I don't know what's going to happen with the lawsuit. He's trying to stall them, but his name is mud right now in the business. And he says he has no money, not a dime. He said he didn't want to ask for an allowance. I suggested some kind of petty cash account, and I pay all the bills anyway, so he has no expenses. |
| 1511 |
And she was his ideal victim, she was isolated with him in Ireland, had no family or friends nearby, she was in love with him, she had money, a lot of it, and was entirely at his mercy, and would be much more so if they got married. Robert was very glad Hope had called him. He asked her then if she had children. |
| 1512 |
And worse yet, he could sense that she loved him, maybe even now. There was a quality of disbelief to what she was telling him, as though she wanted to piece the puzzle together for him, and have him tell her there was nothing to worry about, and it was not what it appeared to be. So far he couldn't do that for her. |
| 1513 |
The suicide of the previous girlfriend concerned him, as did O'Neill's determination to get Hope pregnant. At least it meant he didn't want her dead. Right now, she was more useful to him alive, married, and pregnant. Unless she gave him trouble, or interfered with his plans, which was what she was currently doing. |
| 1514 |
All bad news for him. It meant he would have to work harder to convince her, and if he couldn't, she was going to be in serious danger. And the worst thing about sociopaths, Bartlett knew, was that they induced their victims to destroy themselves so they didn't have to do the dirty work, like Finn's old girlfriend. |
| 1515 |
But now, he's angry at me all the time, or most of the time. Sometimes he's absolutely wonderful to me again, and then he gets vicious. He's drinking more than he used to. I think he's pretty stressed about the lawsuit, and he's not writing. And he's really angry that I've been postponing the wedding. |
| 1516 |
It was perfect, he was wonderful to me, and he still is sometimes, but it's bad more than it's good now. And sometimes it changes so often and so suddenly, he goes from bad to good to bad to good again, my head is spinning. By the time I left Dublin a week ago, I was so confused, I didn't know what to think. |
| 1517 |
His wife died in an accident. He was driving drunk. He had told me she was alone in the car and died. The report says that he was with her, she was alive at the time of the accident. He had a concussion and didn't call for help and she died. Although to be fair, the medical report said she would have died anyway. |
| 1518 |
Robert Bartlett considered it a bad sign. She was still in love with him, and hadn't fully assimilated the new information she'd gotten. It was too shocking, and hard for her to accept. "He got a suspended prison sentence for manslaughter and five years' probation for killing the other driver," she went on. |
| 1519 |
His wife's parents think he was responsible for her death and wanted her money. He tried to get it, and what she left their son. And now he's after my money. Indirectly, he has been responsible for the death of two women. His wife's death in the car accident and the earlier suicide. He has lied to me about everything. |
| 1520 |
The confusing evidence and contradiction between their calculating viciousness and their extreme attention, kindness, and seduction paralyzed their victims, who wanted to believe that the good parts were true and the bad ones only a mistake. But with more and more evidence, it became harder to believe. |
| 1521 |
The real one is a monster, without a heart or a conscience. I could be wrong, of course, and he could just be a very troubled guy, but I think we both know what we're seeing. That man in the beginning was an act he put on for you. That act is over. This is the third act, where the villain goes in for the kill. |
| 1522 |
Maybe great risk. If you do go back, you've got to be ready to get out fast, and run like hell if you smell danger. You can't stick around to negotiate with him. I don't usually tell people this, but I've been there. I was married to an Irish girl, the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, and the sweetest. |
| 1523 |
She had a miserable childhood, her parents were both drunks, and she wound up in foster homes where people did awful things to her. She had the face of an angel and the heart of a devil. I defended her on manslaughter charges a few years after I got out of law school. I had absolutely no doubt of her innocence then. |
| 1524 |
It took me years to understand that the good Nuala was only an act she put on for me, but it was so goddamn convincing that I always believed her, no matter what lies she told me or what awful things she did. The kids eventually moved in with me, which didn't bother her. People like that don't make terrific parents. |
| 1525 |
So, I get it. If you still need to turn the boat around, no matter what the evidence, no one can stop you. You have what you saw for nine months, and felt for him, and then you have that investigator's report and what everyone who knows him, and has experienced him, said. But if you go back, Hope, be smart. |
| 1526 |
At least now she had a support system in Ireland, and Robert Bartlett clearly knew the subject. It sounded as though what he'd been through with his ex wife was far worse. She was an extreme example of the breed, but with two women dead because of him, and a lifetime of lies, Finn wasn't much better. |
| 1527 |
Finn really was the only person she had left in the world, which would make it that much harder to give him up. It would mean she was entirely alone for the first time in her life. Finn called her twice that morning as she slept. She stirred and saw his number on her cell phone, turned over, and didn't answer. |
| 1528 |
There were delays getting the bags off the plane, and instead of arriving at Robert Bartlett's office at ten in the morning, she arrived at two thirty in the afternoon, tired and disheveled, dragging her finally retrieved suitcase behind her. "I'm so sorry!" she apologized as he came out to greet her. |
| 1529 |
He was a tall, slim, distinguished looking man with graying sandy blond hair, green eyes, and a cleft in his chin that was more noticeable when he smiled, which he did often. He had a friendly face, and a warm demeanor. He made tea for her while she settled into one of the comfortable chairs in his office. |
| 1530 |
There were lovely Georgian houses and a large park. The floors of his office were crooked, the windows were off center, and the general atmosphere was one of cozy disorder. It was a far cry from their fancy, sterile New York office. Robert liked this much better, and was almost sorry he was going back. |
| 1531 |
He and Hope talked for hours about the vagaries of Finn, the lies he had told, and her hope that somehow, magically, things would get better. Robert knew not to argue with her, but he kept reminding her of the evidence she did have, and the unlikelihood that Finn would mend his ways now, even if he loved her. |
| 1532 |
Robert knew it was a slow process giving up the dream, and all he hoped was that Finn didn't do something really terrifying to her in the meantime. He reminded her again and again to trust her instincts, and get out if she felt she should. He couldn't say that to her often enough, and wanted to impress her with it. |
| 1533 |
And she hadn't told him yet that she was coming back, and surely not that she was spending the day in Dublin with an attorney before she did. By the time they had finished talking, it was five o'clock and Robert told her that he wasn't comfortable with the idea of her going back to Blaxton House in the evening. |
| 1534 |
She had to rent a car, which would take time, and then get there, and she had already said how uncomfortable she was driving in Ireland, particularly at night. Worse than that, she might arrive when Finn was in a black mood or drinking. Winfred and Katherine would have gone back to the village for the night. |
| 1535 |
He suggested she stay at a hotel in Dublin that night, and go back in broad daylight the next morning. And as she thought about it, she agreed with him. She was anxious to see Finn, although nervous about it, but getting there late in the evening could mean putting her head in the lion's mouth if he'd been drinking. |
| 1536 |
Robert suggested a hotel she knew, and his secretary made a reservation for her. It was the best hotel in Dublin. And since he was leaving the office, he offered to drop her off with her suitcase, which she gratefully accepted. It had been a pleasant afternoon talking to him, although the subject was difficult. |
| 1537 |
She had no idea what to expect, or what kind of mood he'd be in. There was no way to know if she'd be meeting the good Finn or the bad Finn, the old Finn or the new Finn, and she had admitted to Robert that she was feeling very stressed about it, particularly after his many warnings about what potentially lay ahead. |
| 1538 |
And as she looked at Robert as they drove to the restaurant in his car, it was hard to imagine him in the clutches of the evil Nuala, or even besotted with her. He looked like an even tempered, sensible person. He had worn jeans that night too, with a sweater and a pea coat, and he looked younger than he had in a suit. |
| 1539 |
She sounded hopeful, and Robert nodded and didn't comment. He had said enough on the phone and that afternoon. Hope had all the information she needed, and he hoped that when she was ready, she'd use it. It was all he could do. There was nothing for him to do for her legally at the moment, except be available to her. |
| 1540 |
She now had his office, home, and cell phone numbers written down on a piece of paper in her bag. And he told her to use them, and not be shy if she needed advice or help at any hour. That's what he was there for, and he was happy to help. The curry was delicious and they talked about her travels again. |
| 1541 |
Much to her surprise, Hope slept extremely well that night. She felt peaceful and safe, and it was reassuring to know that she had a friend in Dublin. Everything Robert had said had made her feel less isolated, and she called his office before she left the hotel and left a message, thanking him for dinner. |
| 1542 |
She wanted to be heading for Russborough by nine thirty. When she flew in, they normally got to the house by eleven, and she was planning to tell Finn that she had arrived on the morning flight to surprise him. She had sent him a loving text message the night before, and he hadn't responded. She hoped he was writing. |
| 1543 |
She loved him too much for any of that to be true about him. It was all a mistake. It had to be. She tiptoed to their room and opened the door. It was dark, he was asleep in bed, and there was an empty scotch bottle on the floor beside him, which explained why he hadn't responded to her text message the night before. |
| 1544 |
He didn't stir until she kissed him once more, and then he opened an eye, saw her, and gave a start, and then he beamed at her and pulled her into his arms. He reeked of scotch, but she didn't care as he kissed her. He smelled like an open bar, which worried her for him, but she didn't say anything about it. |
| 1545 |
She wondered how the writing was going, and how close he was to delivering at least one of the two manuscripts he owed them. They were going to uphold the lawsuit if he didn't, and she didn't want that to happen to him. "Where did you come from?" he asked with a slow, sleepy smile, stretched, and then turned over. |
| 1546 |
He was hard to resist. And minutes later they were making wild, passionate, insatiable love, as though the world was about to come to an end, and for a moment it always felt as though it might. It was afternoon when they got up, bathed, dressed, and he looked at her. He was being so sweet to her again. |
| 1547 |
It was hard to believe that he could ever tell a lie, hurt anyone, or make anyone unhappy, even her. "I missed you so much," he said, and she could see that he meant it. He really did. She had found five empty scotch bottles under the bed. He had drowned his sorrows while she was gone, or his fears. |
| 1548 |
She had all his numbers in her purse. She and Finn cooked dinner together that night, and he went upstairs to work while she got things ready, and he was wearing an odd expression when he came back downstairs to the kitchen in the basement. They still needed to restore that. It was functional, but grim. |
| 1549 |
Most of the time they used the pantry on the main floor, but not that night. Just as they sat down at the kitchen table where the servants used to eat, Finn turned to her with a glint in his eyes, and she wondered if he'd had a drink after their walk, or maybe even before. He was drinking way too much these days. |
| 1550 |
It never occurred to her to ask what he was looking for in her purse, she was too scared. Her night in Dublin was going to be hard to explain. She had no choice but to be honest with him. She always had been until now. It was the first time she had ever lied to him, about her arrival, or anything else. |
| 1551 |
He looked like a crazy person as he glared at her, knocked his chair back until it fell, and paced around the kitchen, while she watched him, trying not to anger him further. She sat very still, praying that he'd back down. "You know I wouldn't do anything like that," she said, trying to sound calmer than she felt. |
| 1552 |
He slammed her back into her seat then, and glared at her while she pecked at her dinner. The look in his eyes was not one she recognized. She had never seen him that way before, and it occurred to her as she moved the pasta around her plate and pretended to eat it that she was alone in the house with him. |
| 1553 |
And then without a word, he left the room, and left her to clean up. She sat for a long time at the table, with tears streaming down her cheeks and choking on sobs. And he had made the point earlier. She was alone in the world now. All she had was him. She had nowhere to turn, and no one to love her. |
| 1554 |
She realized that she should have told him the truth about when she was coming, but if she had, she would never have been able to meet with Robert and she was glad she had. It had been helpful and good to know that she could turn to someone somewhere, if she needed to, to help her. And he was at least nearby. |
| 1555 |
One moment brimming with rage like a dragon, the next calmly in bed, smiling at her. She wasn't sure if he was crazy or she was, and she stood looking at him for a moment, with absolutely no idea what to say. "Come to bed, Hope," he said, as though they'd had a pleasant evening, which they certainly hadn't. |
| 1556 |
She got into bed cautiously beside him a few minutes later, after brushing her teeth and putting on her nightgown. She glanced at him as though he were a poisonous snake about to strike. "Everything is fine," he said to her soothingly, and put an arm around her. It was almost worse than if he were still angry at her. |
| 1557 |
Robert had pointed that out to her the day before in his office, and it was obvious to her too. But she didn't want to get Finn mad at her again by saying she wasn't ready to get married. At least not tonight. She'd feel better talking about it in the morning, with Winfred and Katherine around, in broad daylight. |
| 1558 |
Finn was already up when Hope awoke the next morning. She got out of bed feeling drained and beaten, and her spirits were as gray as the weather. She looked tired and pale when she met him in the pantry eating breakfast. He looked full of energy and cheer, and told her how happy he was to have her home. |
| 1559 |
He even seemed as though he meant it. She no longer knew what to believe. She was cautiously sipping a cup of tea, when he mentioned the wedding again. He suggested they go in to talk to the vicar in the village, and said they had to go to the embassy in Dublin to get permission for her to be married in Ireland. |
| 1560 |
He thought he had her trapped. In the end, to pacify him, Hope said that she would think about it and let him know what she thought. She didn't want to set him off by telling him there was no question of his getting the money he wanted, or her marrying him, and she didn't want to give it to him either. |
| 1561 |
His financial demands were insulting and insane. She was trying to stay calm, but it was just too hard fighting with him all the time. He always had some obsession, whether it was getting her pregnant, getting married, or giving him millions of dollars for his own use. Hope was feeling overwhelmingly sad. |
| 1562 |
That was a lot of love. And what was he planning to give in return, other than his time? Even Hope herself was well aware that she was getting screwed. Worse than that, she felt like she was trapped in a spiderweb of deceit. He was the spider and it was becoming ever more clear that she was the prey. |
| 1563 |
Not money, not babies, not weddings. She was depressed at first, and surprised that they had a good time together like in the beginning, and once again, it gave her hope. She was constantly ricocheting now between hope and despair. And she was having more and more trouble getting up each time she got knocked down. |
| 1564 |
He was writing. She was starting a new book of photographs of Ireland, and enjoying some projects in the house. It was beginning to feel like the early days when she had first bought the house. And she tried to put out of her mind the outrageous things he'd said to her, and the money he had asked for. |
| 1565 |
You're forty five years old, not twenty two. You're a pretty woman, but forty five isn't twenty five or thirty. You don't have a living relative in the world, no siblings, no parents, no cousins even, your only child is dead, and the last person you considered yourself related to, your ex husband, just died last week. |
| 1566 |
Then what happens to you? You wind up fucking alone, probably forever, and one day you die alone. So maybe what you need to think about, if you don't want to put that money in an account for me, is what your life is going to look like ten years from now, or twenty, when no one else is around, and you're all alone. |
| 1567 |
She was depressed and angry all day, and stayed busy scrubbing and polishing several bathrooms on the second floor to keep distracted from the agonizing situation she was in. And Finn was affectionate with her. She wondered if that was what life would be like if she paid his price, which she was not inclined to do. |
| 1568 |
Warm and loving as he had been in the beginning? Or would he still be jealous, threaten her if he felt like it, and ask for more when he blew the five or ten million dollars and needed the account filled again, no questions asked? It was hard to know what she'd be getting, if she decided to pay him what he wanted. |
| 1569 |
If anyone had told her she'd be thinking about giving him the money, she would have told them they were insane. All she wanted was the old Finn back, the first one, but even she knew you couldn't buy that. The whole conversation saddened her, and she went for a walk alone that afternoon to clear her head. |
| 1570 |
She really didn't have much choice, as far as he was concerned. He was very sure of himself, and believed that she was firmly hooked. He had all the grandiosity and sense of entitlement of sociopaths, as Robert had said to her. Finn was certain that if Hope loved him, she'd pay up. She didn't want to be alone. |
| 1571 |
But ultimately, unless she was willing to risk being a lonely old lady in a nursing home, Finn knew he was the better deal and she had no choice. And with him, she could have more kids. He had almost called it "stud service" when he talked to her, but decided that might put her off. The rest seemed okay to him. |
| 1572 |
And as far as he was concerned he was worth every penny he was asking. Hope knew he believed that too. It all made sense to him, and he was sure she'd be sensible about it, and too scared not to. He looked jubilant as he sat at his desk and watched her back from the window, as she walked toward the hills. |
| 1573 |
He didn't see the rivers of tears rolling down her face. As Hope sat in a warm bath before dinner, she was seriously depressed. He had planted the seeds of some really melancholy observations, about what her future would look like without him. He was right. She didn't have a soul in the world, except him. |
| 1574 |
If she left him, there might be someone else. But that was beside the point. She loved him, and had for a year, enough to want to marry him at one point and have a child. She wanted neither of these now. She just wanted to feel sane again and for things to calm down. She had no one in her life except Finn. |
| 1575 |
It was a lot to pay for a guy who was demonstrating that he only wanted her for her money, and was fabulous in bed. All she really wanted from him was his heart. And Hope no longer believed that Finn had that particular piece of equipment. It just wasn't there. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought about it. |
| 1576 |
She couldn't stall him forever. She decided to put a good face on it, and dressed in a nice dress for dinner. She put on high heels, brushed her hair back, added earrings and makeup, and when she got downstairs to the pantry where Katherine had left a tea tray for them, Finn looked at her and whistled. |
| 1577 |
She no longer believed anything. It was a sad place to be in. They decided to make do with Katherine's sandwiches and a pot of tea, instead of dinner. And Finn looked animated as he started telling her about a new book he'd been thinking about that afternoon. It was for the second book due in his contract. |
| 1578 |
Initially he had seemed surprisingly normal, considering the twisted tales that he told. Now she was no longer so sure. "Okay, so then what happens?" she said, listening with interest, trying to concentrate on this book. It was something to talk about, other than money, and as a result, it was a relief. |
| 1579 |
And he inherits the entire fortune. Or her half anyway, then he kills the brother. And when their father is kidnapped later, the hero doesn't pay the ransom, because he's been a shit to him. So he lets the kidnappers kill him. One by one, he kills the entire family, and winds up with all their money. |
| 1580 |
It was no accident that the rich wife was killed, the poor boy wins, and the inspector had the name of the lawyer Finn had found on the piece of paper in her purse when she first came from Dublin. All the puzzle parts fit together seamlessly, and the threat to her was clear. She looked straight at Finn then. |
| 1581 |
That would be a lot more scary. But very boring for the reader. You need layers, subplots, and more people to make a story work. I just found it interesting what happens to her when she won't give him the money. It proves that trying to hang on to it doesn't pay. You can't take your money to the grave. |
| 1582 |
They started talking about Christmas, which was two weeks away. Hope said she wanted to go to Russborough to get a tree the next day, and Finn said he would rather chop one down himself. He had an ax in the stable, which sounded ominous to her too. His story had unnerved her, and she suspected that was the point. |
| 1583 |
Finn knew exactly what he was doing. The night before he had reminded her of how alone she was. And now he had told her a story he had created about a man who kills his wife when she doesn't give up her fortune to him. The message was extremely clear. And the hair stood up on her arms when she thought about it. |
| 1584 |
They read side by side in bed that night, clinging to the appearance of normalcy, and Hope said nothing to him. She was thinking of his story and couldn't concentrate on the book in her hands. For an odd moment, she began to wonder if she should run like hell, as Robert had said, or just pay Finn, and give in. |
| 1585 |
The wind was howling outside, and this time, she just lay there, letting him do whatever he wanted, even the things she had never let him do before, and some of them she enjoyed. He was excited by everything that had happened between them that night, his bloodlust had been satisfied, and his need to own her. |
| 1586 |
Hope woke up at five A.M. when the wind smashed a tree limb against the house. The storm was in full swing. Finn had heard nothing, and as Hope awoke she felt as though her heart had been ripped out through her lungs. She was instantly awake and remembered everything that had happened the night before. |
| 1587 |
Hope slipped out of the bed by millimeters. She had to go to the bathroom, but didn't dare. She found her underwear on the floor, the dress she had worn the night before, a sweater of Finn's, she couldn't find her shoes, but she grabbed her purse, and slipped through the crack in the barely open door on bare feet. |
| 1588 |
She had known the minute she woke up that if she didn't, he would kill her. He had made that clear the night before. And she didn't doubt it for a minute. Two women were dead because of him, she was certain of it, and she didn't want to be the third. Even if she was alone forever. She no longer cared. |
| 1589 |
Except getting out. She walked for miles in the storm, with snow blanketing her shoulders; her legs were freezing in the thin dress, but she didn't mind. Her hair was matted to her head. She passed houses and churches, farms and stables, a dog barked when she ran past. She ran and walked, and stumbled in the dark. |
| 1590 |
She forgot she had it until that moment, and with trembling, frozen hands, she found her cell phone. His cell phone number was on the paper; she pressed the buttons and listened while it rang. He answered in a deep sleep filled voice, and her teeth were chattering so hard he didn't recognize her when she said hello. |
| 1591 |
The roads were icy, and it took him fifty minutes to get there. It was seven in the morning by then, and there was the faintest gray light coming through the sky. The snow was still falling, but he reached the southern edges of Blessington, and drove around looking for the White Horse Pub, and then he saw it. |
| 1592 |
He walked to the doors of the woodshed, pulled the doors slowly open, and saw no one, and then he looked down and saw her crouched on the ground, soaking wet, with her thin dress plastered to her legs, and eyes full of terror. She didn't get up when she saw him, she just crouched there, staring at him. |
| 1593 |
He leaned down gently and pulled her slowly upright, and as she stood up, she started to sob. She couldn't even speak to him as he put his own coat around her and led her to his car. She was frozen to the bone. She was still sobbing when they got to Dublin an hour later. He had driven more slowly on the way back. |
| 1594 |
He had no idea what had happened, or what Finn had done to her, but she had no obvious injuries or bruises, except to her soul and mind. He knew it would be a long time before she felt whole again, but he knew from talking to her before that she would survive, and even recover, no matter how long it took. |
| 1595 |
She had left everything there, and she had done what Robert had said. She ran like hell for her life, and she knew with total certainty that if she hadn't, sooner or later, she would have died. Robert waited until the next day to talk to her, and she told him everything that had happened. Every word that Finn had said. |
| 1596 |
His pressure for the money. The outline of the story he had described to her, and the implications of it weren't lost on Robert either. Finn had almost succeeded in getting everything he wanted, but the golden goose had run away during the night. Finn had started calling on her cell phone within hours of her escape. |
| 1597 |
He woke up early in the storm and couldn't find her, and when she didn't answer her phone, he started sending text messages. He kept telling her he'd find her, that he wanted her to come home, at first that he loved her, and later when she didn't respond, his messages were full of thinly veiled threats. |
| 1598 |
And on the second day of her escape, he asked her where she wanted to go, what she wanted to do, and what her plans were for the house. She thought about it for a long moment. In some part of her she still loved the way Finn had been at the beginning, and knew she would for a long time. It wasn't over yet. |
| 1599 |
Robert still had her phone. He handed it to her later that day, and saw her reading all the frantic text messages from Finn, and when she turned it off, she cried. It was awful what loving a man like that did to another human being. He had gone through the same thing when he finally walked away from his wife. |
| 1600 |
When a sociopath lost his prey, or any perpetrator, they went insane looking for them so they could torture them again. Robert had seen it all before. His wife had been similarly desperate, and the last time he had left her, he never went back. He wanted this to be the last time for Hope and she said it was. |
| 1601 |
If he hadn't killed her, she would have killed herself. She was certain of that. She remembered thinking about it on the last night, and knowing she had surrendered her soul to him, she would have welcomed death, or sought it herself. Robert was bringing in food for her, and she was too afraid to leave the house. |
| 1602 |
They were sitting in his kitchen eating dinner, when he gently asked her where she thought she might like to go. She'd had an idea all day, and since she didn't want to go back to New York or Cape Cod yet, it seemed like it might be the right choice. She didn't want to go to a strange city and hide. |
| 1603 |
But she knew that whoever was writing them was not the same man she would find if she went back. The mask was off for good, and as everyone who knew him had said, he was a dangerous man. He was everything they had described and worse. She had Robert's secretary make a reservation for her to New Delhi. |
| 1604 |
It was the only place she wanted to go, and she knew she would find her soul again there, just as she had before. She wanted to hide, but she also needed to put herself back together again. She still shook violently every time she heard the phone ring, and her heart stopped every time Robert let himself into his home. |
| 1605 |
He asked her to stay in touch, and she promised that she would. And then, trembling from head to foot, she called Finn before she left. She had to say goodbye. She needed closure, and couldn't leave without saying something to him, even if only that she loved him, and was sorry she couldn't see him again. |
| 1606 |
For the rest of her life. She was afraid she would have nightmares about it for years. "I think you'll be fine." He thought she had made remarkable progress in the past two days. From the broken woman she had seemed two days before, the shell of who she had been before was already beginning to emerge. |
| 1607 |
Their killer instincts couldn't be cured. Robert was glad she was going as far away as she could, and the place she had described sounded like heaven to him. He hoped it would be for her. They hugged each other as he left her at security with her small bag, full of the clothes he had bought for her to wear. |
| 1608 |
She didn't have the answer to that question, but knew she would one day. When the flight attendant handed her the newspaper, Hope took it and sat staring at the date. She had met him a year ago today. It had started exactly a year before, and now it was over. There was a symmetry to it, a perfect seamlessness. |
| 1609 |
It had been beautiful at first, and terrifying at the last. She sat staring at the sky as they burst through the clouds over Dublin, and she could see stars in the sky. And as she looked at them, she knew that however broken she still felt, her soul had reentered her body, and one day she would be whole again. |
| 1610 |
It had been the right place to come. They had passed several ancient temples on the way to the ashram, and just being there filled her soul. She fasted that night to purify herself, and did yoga in the early morning, and as she stood at the edge of the river afterward, she told her heart to let Finn go. |
| 1611 |
She met with her beloved master every morning after she did her meditation and yoga. She was up each day by dawn, and her master laughed when she told him she had been broken. He assured her that that was a great gift, and she would be stronger now. She knew that what he said was right and she believed him. |
| 1612 |
Hope found it hard to see it that way, but hoped that eventually she would. She thought of Paul a great deal too. She missed him, and being able to call him. He was always in her thoughts, somewhere, in the past behind her, along with their daughter, who was a gentle memory now. She had been for a long time. |
| 1613 |
She wasn't sure she wanted to know. She had spent so much time pushing him from her mind that she was hesitant to think about him now, for fear that he would poison her again. She had worked so hard to heal the wounds, and didn't want thoughts of him opening them again. Everything about him was toxic for her. |
| 1614 |
It had too many ugly memories for her. She was glad he had been able to sell the house. He had said the new owners were keeping Winfred and Katherine, and Hope was glad to hear it. She had written them both letters of thanks and farewell from the ashram, with apologies for not saying goodbye to them. |
| 1615 |
She had worn saris for the last several months. They suited her, and with her jet black hair, she looked completely Indian. Her teacher had given her a bindi, and she loved to wear it. She felt so much at home here. She was sad for days before she left, and spent many hours with her favorite swamiji on the last day. |
| 1616 |
She hoped he was right. It had been a healing place for her for the past six months. The time had flown by. On the last morning, she was praying long before the sun came up, and meditating. She knew she was leaving a piece of her soul here, but as she had hoped to, she had found other pieces of herself in exchange. |
| 1617 |
She wanted to cling to every moment, every image. She had her camera over her shoulder, but didn't use it. She just wanted to watch the scenery she loved so much slide by. She had very little with her, except for the saris she had worn, and a beautiful red one she had bought to wear to parties at home. |
| 1618 |
Predictably, it was a shock to her system. People looked so drab here, there were no saris, colorful clothes, or beautiful women. There were no pink and orange flowers everywhere. There were people in blue jeans and T shirts, and women in short hair. She wanted to put her sari on and wear her bindi. |
| 1619 |
And she wished she were back in New Delhi when she went to rent a car at the airport. She drove to the Cape, thinking quietly to herself, and for a moment she looked around the house when she got there, and thought of her time there with Finn, and then she opened the shutters and forced him from her mind. |
| 1620 |
She didn't want to intrude. She knew from what he'd said how precious his time with his daughters was, now that they were away at school most of the year. He talked a lot about how much he missed them all the time. But he insisted that he wanted Hope to join them, and the girls added their voices to his. |
| 1621 |
They said it would be fun. Robert helped her close the house. She packed a small bag and put the alarm on when they left. She drove them back to the marina and parked her car. She liked being with them. It was like being a family again. She was so used to being alone now that it didn't bother her at all. |
| 1622 |
She helped them toss the lines when they set sail, and then she stood next to Robert as they sailed slowly up the coast. And for some odd reason she thought of Finn then and his dire threats about how lonely she would be if she didn't stay with him, reminding her of how alone she was and that she would have no one now. |
| 1623 |
He was an inveterate and seasoned sailor. The Victory was a hundred fifty foot sailboat, with auxiliary engines, that he had chartered from a man he had done business with frequently in London. Her owner had had business reversals that year, and Quinn had been grateful to have use of the boat since August. |
| 1624 |
But with winter setting in, he knew he couldn't delay his return much longer. The owner of the Victory wanted her in the Caribbean for his own use by Christmas, as they had discussed when they agreed to the charter. Quinn had paid a fortune for three months aboard, but he didn't regret a penny of it. |
| 1625 |
His bags were packed in his cabin as he stood on deck, and, familiar with the efficiency of the crew by then, he knew that within hours of his departure, all evidence of his time aboard would have vanished. There were six male crew members on board, and one woman, the wife of the captain, who acted as stewardess. |
| 1626 |
Quinn Thompson was direct, sure, powerful, mysterious in some ways, and unrelenting about anything he wanted. He was a man of infinite ideas, endless imagination in his field, and few words, except when he was in one of his rare expansive moods, which the captain had enjoyed as well, usually after a few brandies. |
| 1627 |
There were times when a wistful look came over him, and some somber days in the beginning. But for most of the hours they stood beside each other on deck, Quinn kept his own counsel. The captain knew he had a daughter as well, because he'd mentioned her once, but Quinn seldom talked about her either. |
| 1628 |
She had never forgiven him for what she perceived as his failures in her childhood. And she had told him months before that she would never, ever forgive him for calling her so late in her mother's illness. In fact, he realized now that blind hope and denial had kept him from calling her earlier than he had. |
| 1629 |
Alex had arrived two days before Jane died, and she was either in such extreme pain or so heavily sedated, Alex had hardly been able to speak to her mother, except in rare lucid moments when Jane continued to insist she would be fine. Alex had been numb with grief and shock, and blazed with fury at her father. |
| 1630 |
For all the years he had been building his empire, he had spent almost no time with Jane and the children. She had forgiven him, Jane always understood what he was doing, and what it meant to him, and never reproached him for it. She had been proud of his victories, whatever they cost her personally. |
| 1631 |
He had always thought he knew his wife, and it was only at the very end that he discovered he hadn't. Beneath her calm, quiet, bland exterior had lived a woman of boundless warmth and love and passion, all of which had been directed at him, and the depths of which he had never fully understood until far too late. |
| 1632 |
Jane should have been as angry at him as Alex was, but all she had done was love him more, in his endless absences. He was deeply ashamed of it and consumed with guilt he knew he would suffer for a lifetime. It seemed an unpardonable crime even to him, and even more so now that he had read all her journals. |
| 1633 |
There was no way to repair it, or make amends, or even atone for it, although he had apologized for it before she died. Worse yet, Jane had assured him he had nothing to regret, nothing to reproach himself for. She promised him that she had been happy with him for the years they shared, which only made his guilt worse. |
| 1634 |
How could she have been happy with a man who was never there, and paid almost no attention to her? He knew what he had been guilty of, and why he had done it. He had been obsessed with his empire, his achievements, and his own doings. He had rarely thought of anyone else, least of all his wife and children. |
| 1635 |
Dreams in which she was begging him to come home, and pleading with him not to abandon her, or forget her. Quinn had retired the year before she died, and they had spent a year traveling to all the places he wanted to explore. As usual, Jane had been a good sport about following him wherever he wanted. |
| 1636 |
They flew home after that and had it checked out again. And it was even worse than they thought, but even then, they had both denied it. He realized now from her journals that she had understood the severity of what ailed her before he did. But she remained convinced nonetheless that she would beat it. |
| 1637 |
Jane was fifty nine when she died, and they had been married for thirty seven years. Alex was thirty four, and her brother Doug would have been thirty six now, if he had lived. He died in a boating accident at thirteen, and Quinn realized now that he had scarcely known him. He had much to regret and repent for. |
| 1638 |
It had been an agonizing, interminable five months without her. And Quinn knew with absolute certainty that he would never forgive himself for having failed her. His dreams and Jane's journals were a constant reminder of his failures. Alex had long since tried him and found him guilty. He didn't disagree with her. |
| 1639 |
It was more than a little crazy. A hundred and eighty foot sailboat. But why not? He could sail around the world for the rest of his life. He couldn't think of anything he would have liked better. He could live on the boat, and sail around to all the places he loved, and those where he hadn't been yet. |
| 1640 |
Their crystal clarity and open love for him were like a blow each time he read them. "How crazy is that?" Quinn asked the captain, as he sat back in a leather chair in his cabin, and thought about the hundred and eighty foot sailboat for a minute. He felt it was more than he deserved, but it was all he wanted. |
| 1641 |
The captain made all the arrangements for him, and half an hour later Quinn shook hands with him and the entire crew, and thanked them for their kindness to him. He had left generous tips for each of them, and had written a sizable check to the captain. He promised to let him know how things turned out in Holland. |
| 1642 |
There was always something he wanted to share with her, something that reminded him with agonizing acuteness of how empty his life was without her. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of her, and then forced himself to open them. There was no point allowing himself to get sucked into the black pit of grief again. |
| 1643 |
She always was. Whatever he chose to do, she always supported him, and celebrated each and every idea he had, no matter how crazy it seemed to anyone else. Jane would have understood, better than anyone. She was the one person who would. The one person, the only person he knew, who had really loved him. |
| 1644 |
He ordered room service shortly after he arrived and found himself torn between missing the comforts of the Victory and her crew, and excitement over the boat he was planning to see in the morning. He found it nearly impossible to sleep that night with the anticipation of it. All he hoped now was that he would love it. |
| 1645 |
He had heard of him, and read of him over the years, and the night before, he had made some calls, and done some careful research. He had a very clear idea of what Quinn was about, and knew of his incisive, and allegedly ruthless reputation. To those who crossed him, or failed him in some way, Quinn could be fearsome. |
| 1646 |
Both his sons were in the office with them, and explained the plans in detail to Quinn. Both of the younger men were in charge of the project, and took a great deal of pride in it, with good reason. The boat was going to be spectacular, and Quinn had fresh respect for Bob Ramsay's genius as he listened. |
| 1647 |
The giant sailboat seemed to have almost everything he would have wanted. Quinn had a few additional ideas, and made suggestions as they talked, which in turn impressed both younger Hakkers, as well as their father. Quinn's ideas were of a technical nature, which improved on Ramsay's initial concept. |
| 1648 |
There was a long silent pause, as Hakker looked at him and took the full measure of the man, and nodded. And as he did, he stuck out his hand and Quinn shook it. The deal was done, at an impressive price, but there was no question in either man's mind that the yacht was worth it. Both men were delighted. |
| 1649 |
All he wanted to do now was sell the house in San Francisco, and do whatever work he needed to do, to do so. There were a few things he knew he had to clean up before he sold it. But his mind was full now with all the details of the boat. He knew it was going to be a new life for him, for whatever years he had left. |
| 1650 |
He had her precious journals in his briefcase, and shortly after take off he took one of her poems out to read it. He read it again and again, as he always did, and then sat staring out the window. He didn't even hear the flight attendant speak to him and ask him what he'd like to drink as she offered. |
| 1651 |
He declined the champagne, and asked for a Bloody Mary, which she brought to him before serving anyone else. The seat next to him was empty mercifully, and he felt relieved, as he hated talking to people on planes. The flight attendant commented to the purser about him when she went back to the galley. |
| 1652 |
His wife had died, his daughter hated him, or thought she did, his son had died years before. He was alone in the world with no one to love him, or care about what he did. And in a few hours, he would be walking into an empty house, the house he had shared with a woman he had thought he knew and didn't. |
| 1653 |
She had been furious with him for years anyway. She and her mother had discussed it endlessly, and despite all of her mother's efforts to soften her point of view, Alex had continued to maintain her harsh, judgmental position. She claimed her father had never been there, for any of them, not even when Doug died. |
| 1654 |
Quinn had come home for three days for the funeral. He'd been in Bangkok, concluding a business deal, when he got the news, and turned around and left again the morning after the funeral, leaving eleven year old Alex and her mother to grieve and mourn, and cling to each other in their solitary anguish. |
| 1655 |
Whenever he was home, he was too busy, exhausted and jet lagged, and sleep deprived, to spend time with her or her mother. And in the end, he had managed to cheat her of even a decent amount of time to say good bye to her mother. Quinn had heard it all before, during, and after the funeral, and would never forget it. |
| 1656 |
And the worst of it was that, as he listened to her, Quinn knew without a doubt that he couldn't deny it. The man she described was in fact the person he had been then, and was until he retired. And whatever changes had occurred since then, most of them positive, Alex was not willing to acknowledge. |
| 1657 |
But there was no way he could make it up to Alex. It was also noticeable to him that she had married a man who scarcely left home, except to go to the office. She had married a Swiss banker right after college. They had gone to Yale together, and married almost minutes after they graduated, thirteen years before. |
| 1658 |
They were inseparable, and seemed happy, sedate, and secure, though uninspired and unexciting. Quinn found his son in law painfully boring. Alex had been careful not to fall into the same trap she thought her mother had. Instead, she had married a weak man, to do her bidding, as different as possible from her father. |
| 1659 |
Now, as he turned his key in the lock of the big rambling English style house, he dreaded the silence. As he stepped into the front hall and set his bags down, he could hear a clock ticking in the living room. The sound cut through him like a knife, and felt like a heartbeat. He had never felt as alone or as empty. |
| 1660 |
And without thinking, he went to the windows, pulled back the curtains, opened the shades, and stood staring into the garden. The trees and hedges were still green, but there were no flowers, and it was a dark November afternoon. The fog had come in while they were landing, and it was swirling through the city. |
| 1661 |
The sky looked as gray as he felt, as he picked up his bags and walked upstairs. And when he saw their bedroom, it took his breath away. She had died in his arms in their bed five months before, and he felt a physical pain as he stared at the bed, and then saw her smiling in a photograph next to it. |
| 1662 |
It had been a mistake to come home, he knew, but there was no one else to sort through her things, and his own, if he was to sell the house in the spring. And he knew there was work to do on the house. Everything was in good order and worked well, but thirty seven years in one house was almost a lifetime. |
| 1663 |
Some of the rooms needed a coat of paint, and he wanted to consult a realtor to find out what he had to do to sell it. It was a long hard first night home for him, and he longed for Jane with such loneliness and agony that at times he wanted to run into the street in his pajamas, just to flee it. There was no escaping. |
| 1664 |
His life without her was his sentence. Life without parole. He knew his solitude was forever, and felt he deserved it. And that night, he had the same dream he had experienced frequently before he left on his travels. It was a dream in which Jane came to him, held out her arms, pleading with him, and she was crying. |
| 1665 |
The dream entirely dismissed the reasons for his trips, and swept away the empire he was building. And all that was left afterward, in the dream, was his own crushing sense of guilt and failure. He hated the dream, and the fact that it had returned almost immediately, as soon as he came back to San Francisco. |
| 1666 |
The next morning, he showered, shaved, dressed, swallowed a cup of coffee, rolled up his sleeves, and began digging into closets. He was still trying to get the dream out of his head, and felt haunted by it. He began with the easy closets downstairs, where Alex had stored all the mementos of her childhood. |
| 1667 |
It had been too painful to admit that he had missed the chance to know Doug better. And once again, guilt had consumed him, and he had fled so as not to face it. Each reminder of the lost child was like a silent accusation. In fact, he had insisted Jane put Doug's things away as soon as possible, and strip his room. |
| 1668 |
Quinn found almost everything that had been in the boy's room the following afternoon, when he went through a large storeroom behind the garage. It was all there, even his clothes, his sports equipment, his trophies and other memorabilia. She had saved every single thing, right down to his underwear. |
| 1669 |
Thanksgiving came and went, and he dutifully called Alex on the holiday, although she didn't celebrate it in Geneva. Her responses to him were brief and cursory. She thanked her father for calling, in a voice that was icy cold, and Quinn was so put off by her, he didn't even ask to speak to Horst or the boys. |
| 1670 |
He didn't bother with a turkey, since he had no one to share it with, and he did not even bother to let any of their friends know he was back in the city. As painful as his mission was to weed through their belongings and sell the house, it would have been even more painful, he thought, to socialize with people. |
| 1671 |
It was she who kept in touch with everyone, who loved to entertain their friends, and gently encouraged Quinn to slow down for a moment, and enjoy a quiet evening among people they knew well. And most of the time, he had done it for her. But without her softening influence and warmth, he preferred his solitude. |
| 1672 |
He could barely bring himself to part with any of it, and now he understood only too well what it must have done to her when he had insisted she take apart Doug's room. Life had finally turned the tables on him, and he felt that what he was experiencing now was suitable punishment for everything he had done to her. |
| 1673 |
He embraced the task with reverence and humility, and accepted it as the penance he deserved. It was mid December before he had brought some semblance of order to what was left, and had decided what to throw away and what to keep. There were piles of things to give away, or box and store, all over the living room. |
| 1674 |
His only distractions were the calls to Tem Hakker every week to check on the progress of the boat they were finishing for him. Quinn had had a nice letter from Bob Ramsay by then, congratulating him on his new acquisition. He was also delighted to be off the hook, and free to pursue his much larger new sailboat. |
| 1675 |
For the moment, taking apart the house in San Francisco seemed a much bigger job to him, but Quinn was glad he was doing it himself. It gave him some sort of final communion with Jane, a sacred ritual that he could perform that kept her close to him. And every night, he read her words, in her firm, slanting hand. |
| 1676 |
And two or three times a week, he had the dream where she begged him not to leave her. Even by day, he felt haunted by it. He had come across thousands of photographs of them, from the early days when the children were small, on their travels, at important occasions, and more recent ones from their last trips. |
| 1677 |
So much more than he had been of her. Seeing his accomplishments described in the clippings, he realized again and again how selfish he had been, how totally absorbed in his own world, while she loved him from afar, waited for him to come home, forgave him everything, and made excuses for him to the children. |
| 1678 |
He was glad that the holidays were almost over. He spent New Year's Eve at his desk, going over papers that his attorney was going to file in probate court after the first of the year. He worked for hours, as he listened to a driving rain battering his windows, and he could hear the wind whistling through the trees. |
| 1679 |
He learned from the newspaper that morning that at least a dozen people had been killed, mostly by fallen power lines, or trees, and hundreds had been injured around the state. Thousands were temporarily homeless and huddled in school gymnasiums as lowlands flooded. It was a storm of mammoth proportions. |
| 1680 |
And as he made one more trip from the garage to the kitchen, carrying a large box, he saw what must have caused the second and third crashes the night before. Two trees had fallen in his neighbor's garden. They were smaller than the one he had lost, but had nonetheless done considerable damage when they fell. |
| 1681 |
She seemed to be dealing with it on her own, and it made him think of Jane, who had handled anything and everything, and every possible crisis and disaster on her own, in his absence. He assumed this woman's husband was of the same breed as he had been, a man with a job that took him far from home on New Year's. |
| 1682 |
It had changed hands several times in the past dozen years, and Quinn paid no attention to who lived there, although Jane always made some small effort to welcome new neighbors. But he had never seen this one, or her husband, even in passing. She had a faintly desperate look as she tried to clear away some branches. |
| 1683 |
It was still pouring rain and the wind was still ferocious, though not quite as vicious as it had been in the early hours of the morning. The damage looked like what he'd seen in the aftermath of hurricanes in the Caribbean, or typhoons in India. It was definitely not what one expected to experience in San Francisco. |
| 1684 |
She was small, and had tiny, graceful hands, but her handshake was strong. She had long dark hair that hung down her back in a braid, and her hair was matted against her head in the driving rain. She was wearing jeans and a parka, and looked soaked to the skin, and he couldn't help feeling sorry for her. |
| 1685 |
She looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, and there were no children afoot, which made him wonder if she was even younger, and hadn't started a family yet. These days everyone got started older. She looked at him oddly when he mentioned her husband, started to say something, and then didn't. |
| 1686 |
They had had hundreds of calls like his, and said they would be over in an hour or two to cover the hole in his roof. He dutifully mentioned his neighbor, and told her the fire department would be over to help, when he went back to get the last box in the garage, and saw her dragging a branch out of her driveway. |
| 1687 |
By late that night, the storm abated, but the damage throughout the state had been tremendous. Like everyone else in town, he called a contractor on Monday morning, and a roofer. He found their names on a list Jane kept on a bulletin board in the kitchen. The roofer just laughed when Quinn called him. |
| 1688 |
Now it was his, and he had to admit he didn't enjoy it. He had dialed the roofer and the contractor more than a dozen times each before he got through to either of them. Everyone who'd suffered damage in the storm was obviously frantic to get someone to repair it as quickly as they could, and he was no different. |
| 1689 |
And the last roofer he called agreed to come and take a look the following morning, but he warned Quinn when they spoke that there were a good six or eight weeks of work ahead of him by then. It looked like Quinn was going to be living with a hole in his living room ceiling and a tarp over it for a long time. |
| 1690 |
This was not the way he had planned to spend his final months in San Francisco. It was eight o'clock that night when the young carpenter finally called him. He sounded matter of fact and businesslike, and apologized for the hour of the call. He said he'd been out looking at storm damage since early that morning. |
| 1691 |
And a lot of people feel more comfortable with bigger firms, where they know they can count on big crews. I have three subs I use when I need them, and whenever possible I do the work on my own. I keep better control of the job that way, and it keeps the prices down, although it's a little slower going, but not much. |
| 1692 |
He looked neat and clean and well organized. He had short dark hair, and big blue eyes that looked honest and friendly and kind. Quinn offered him a cup of coffee, and he declined, he wanted to get down to business as quickly as possible, and give Quinn an idea of what he felt he could do to help him. |
| 1693 |
As far as Jack was concerned, he didn't need to be. He wondered if there was a wife he was going to be dealing with too. There were a number of photographs around of a pretty, middle aged woman, but Quinn hadn't mentioned her. He was handling the matter himself, maybe just because it was easier for him to do it. |
| 1694 |
Quinn didn't think he would be. Jack wanted the work, and seemed excited about the prospect of working for him. "I can have it to you by this afternoon," Jack responded as he set down the mug and glanced at his watch. He wanted to do the job for his friend that day so he would be free to do this one. |
| 1695 |
The deal had been made, and a contract signed. He brought two big burly young men with him, and they kept to themselves and went straight to work. They greeted Quinn, or nodded, when he went in or out, but Jack was the only one who had contact with him. And the roofer appeared to do his work at the end of the week. |
| 1696 |
It was an extensive job, but Quinn had no choice in the matter. The roof had to be repaired, and Quinn wasn't trying to cut corners. He wanted it done right, in the best possible way, no matter how expensive it was, even though he was selling the house. And Jack respected him for that, as he did for all else. |
| 1697 |
He had already figured out in the first few days that Quinn Thompson was a pleasure to work with, as long as you were fair with him, and told him honestly what was happening, and what you thought you could do about it. What he didn't like were misrepresentations and lies, or people who shirked their responsibilities. |
| 1698 |
He never asked questions inappropriately, but Quinn was so intent on what he was looking at that Jack couldn't help but be intrigued. And whatever the plans were for, it looked huge. Quinn looked up with a tired smile. He had done a lot of paperwork for Jane's estate that week, and it was tedious, depressing work. |
| 1699 |
He wanted to get as far away as he could from his relentless memories, and the world he had shared with Jane. All he wanted now was to sail away and take his memories with him. Being in the house he had shared with her, in the city where they had lived for nearly forty years, was just too hard for him. |
| 1700 |
It was a wonderful book that Quinn had always loved. He had given it to Doug to read that fateful summer before he left for camp, and Doug had pored over it, and memorized parts of it in order to impress his father, and had. It had been one of their few great exchanges and precious moments before he died. |
| 1701 |
He liked working alone sometimes, and getting a handle on some of the details himself. He was even more conscientious than Quinn had thought he would be, and the work was going well. He was supervising the roof work too, and Quinn was pleased with the results, although there was still a lot of work to do. |
| 1702 |
He was willing to help her, he wasn't being forced. And she had managed to find a roofer on her own, and gotten the work she needed done. But she said there were a number of smaller repairs she hadn't found anyone to tackle yet. And like Quinn, she had observed how diligent and competent Jack was about his work. |
| 1703 |
He hoped he'd read the book at some point, and not just say he had, but he forgot to mention it again. It was late January and the work was going well, when Quinn spent an entire afternoon making a list of extra projects he had for Jack, and comments about the work in progress, and he went outside to hand it to him. |
| 1704 |
It's all kind of a blur. And they never came back. I was state raised, as they say. They put me in a couple of foster homes at first, because I was so young, but they always sent me back. I couldn't be adopted because they knew my parents were alive somewhere, and you can't stay in foster homes forever. |
| 1705 |
Quinn didn't want more than that from him. But Jack wanted a great deal more for himself, and he knew he would never have it. The burdens of his past were too heavy, and he knew it, better than Quinn could imagine. Quinn had no concept of the life Jack had led, or the path he had followed to get there. |
| 1706 |
There was a sense of despair about Jack that he had never seen before in the month he had worked for him. He had always been so matter of fact and so cheerful, but what he was seeing now was very different. It was a glimpse into Jack's heart and soul, and the sorrow he had concealed there for a lifetime. |
| 1707 |
I can't read what it says on medicine bottles, or directions, and maps are hard for me. I can hardly read anything. And I can sign my name. That's it. I'll never be more than a carpenter who can't even read. I can't even stay with a woman for more than a few weeks, because if they figured it out, they wouldn't want me. |
| 1708 |
And what he had said was so overwhelming that Quinn didn't know what to say to him at first. He wanted to put his arms around him and hold him, as he would a child. But Jack wasn't a child, he was a man, and as decent and kind and capable as any man Quinn had ever known. He wanted to help him, but he wasn't sure how. |
| 1709 |
And when he woke in the morning, and saw Jack's truck outside, he pulled on a pair of pants and a sweater, slipped his feet into loafers, and walked outside to find him. The two men exchanged a long look that spoke volumes, and Quinn asked him to come inside with him. Jack looked as tired as Quinn felt. |
| 1710 |
Jack spent his days working on the repairs on the house. And for two hours afterward, and sometimes more, he and Quinn sat at the kitchen table and wended their way slowly and painfully through the newspaper. Eventually Quinn used his old sailing book as their textbook, once Jack was more comfortable. |
| 1711 |
It was an admission he had only recently come to accept about himself, and not one he was proud of. "She looks beautiful in the photographs," Jack said quietly. She had been a delicate, almost fragile looking woman, but there had been far more strength in her than anyone ever suspected, least of all her husband. |
| 1712 |
Jack was making impressive progress, and Quinn was giving him something he had always dreamed of. In a way, it was a gift of freedom, and one by one Quinn was helping him to sever the chains that had bound him. His inability to read had been like a death sentence to him, or at the very least a lonely prison. |
| 1713 |
It was Quinn who was imprisoned now, condemned to his own loneliness and bitter recriminations forever. He was still having the recurring dream, but less often ever since he'd started helping Jack with his reading. It was almost as though doing something for another human being was helping to assuage his guilt. |
| 1714 |
But each time he worked for her, he was struck by how lonely she was. Her house was full of photographs of her son who had died. She had told Jack the boy had committed suicide two days after his sixteenth birthday. She never explained why, and it was obvious to Jack by then that there was no man in her life. |
| 1715 |
He had grown up on a farm in the Midwest, and had gone to college with a scholarship to Harvard. And from there he had progressed rapidly into his enormous success. Jane had believed in him from the moment she met him. She had been there before he ever made a penny, and never doubted his abilities for a minute. |
| 1716 |
He had had the Midas touch, as they said in the financial world. To the uninitiated, it looked like he had never made a bad deal in his life. But the truth was that when he had, he had managed to turn it into something better. And he always knew instinctively when to cut his losses. He was, in his own way, a genius. |
| 1717 |
She asked Jack bluntly if it was some kind of a setup, and if it was, she wasn't coming. He assured her that it was nothing more than a Friday night dinner shared by three friends, two of them neighbors. Finally, she agreed to come, and rang Quinn's doorbell ten minutes later with a cautious expression. |
| 1718 |
If nothing else, it made him want to reassure her. He could see why Jack felt sorry for her. She was a woman who looked as though she needed to be protected, or at the very least needed a friend. He stepped aside and invited her in, and she followed him quietly to the kitchen, where Jack was carving the veal roast. |
| 1719 |
And now he understood it better. She seemed to have no need to hide what she was feeling, and he suspected that she felt better now. Better enough to come to dinner at least, and he was suddenly glad that Jack had pressed him to invite her. More than anything else, this woman needed friends to distract her. |
| 1720 |
I withdrew even deeper into my work, and my wife became more introverted and stayed that way. We were both grief stricken, but when I read her journals, after her death, I understood better how profoundly it altered her. I was busy then, and probably insensitive about it. I'm sure I wasn't much help to her. |
| 1721 |
And the little she had kept unboxed, she had concealed from Quinn in her closet. In a sense, he had forced her to do that, and now that he understood what it had meant to her, he deeply regretted what he'd said and done. He had thought he was doing the right thing for her, for himself, and even for Alex. |
| 1722 |
She wanted to ask him how he had survived it, or how his wife had. She still blamed herself for the end of her marriage. She had always felt that her husband had lacked empathy for the depths of their son's depression, and that perhaps unknowingly, because of it, he had exacerbated Andrew's desperation. |
| 1723 |
Their final year together had been one of relentless silent accusation, until they could no longer stand each other. And no matter what they did to each other or themselves, nothing would bring their son back. Although she was devastated when Charles left, she felt he had made the right decision for both of them. |
| 1724 |
In the end, their marriage had been as dead as their son. Charles had given her the best settlement he could, in the form of the house he had paid for her to buy, to escape the one where their son died, and he had given her enough money to live on for the next few years. Eventually, she'd have to go back to teaching. |
| 1725 |
She was open and honest and not afraid to show her vulnerability. Talking to her reminded Quinn that there were others who were suffering as much as he was. He told her about Jane then. The years he had worked too hard and too much, been away most of the time, his retirement, her sudden illness, and death. |
| 1726 |
She noted that he had opted for the geographic cure, as they called it in counseling. And she didn't want to tell him that it didn't work. At some point, wherever he was, he was still going to have to face the fact that she was gone, and however he had failed her, or felt he had, whether accurate or not. |
| 1727 |
Jack was enjoying the exchange between them, glad that he had encouraged Quinn to invite Maggie to dinner. More than they knew, or even he did, they had much in common. And they were each in need of companionship and friendship. They both spent too much time alone, and had too many painful memories to dwell on. |
| 1728 |
It was a particularly nice evening, and much to Quinn's surprise, the Friday night dinner was even more pleasant as a threesome. Maggie had definitely brought something to it, despite her heartfelt confessions. But everyone's spirits seemed to lift as Quinn described the boat in its most minute detail. |
| 1729 |
Jack left a few minutes later, and Quinn was in his kitchen for a long time, putting things away, and washing the dishes. And when he went upstairs finally, he saw the lights on in Maggie's kitchen, as he looked out his bedroom window. By then, he knew she was on the phone, answering the teenage hotline. |
| 1730 |
They talked about the boat, and played liar's dice again. She brought a chocolate cake she had baked for them. And over the next month, their Friday night threesomes became a comfortable tradition, and an easy beginning to the weekend. Jack's reading was going well, and he was working diligently at it. |
| 1731 |
They were a loving and supportive, but definitely odd, threesome. And all three of them were sad that in a few months, their Friday night evenings would be disbanded. Quinn would be off on his boat by then, and now Jack was well on his way to having a woman in his life, if not this one, then undoubtedly another. |
| 1732 |
But the days were long and sunny, and summer seemed to be on the way. "What are you two doing tomorrow?" he asked innocently, but he already knew. He had planned it, although the idea had come to him on the spur of the moment, when he went to watch a sailboat race on Wednesday night, from the yacht club. |
| 1733 |
He had a date planned for that night. He had already told the woman he was seeing that he was not available on Friday evenings. He called it a poker night, so he didn't have to explain Quinn or Maggie, or his reading lessons. She knew nothing about that, and he still would have been embarrassed to tell her. |
| 1734 |
She beat him at liar's dice that night, and went home victoriously with three dollars, to work on the hotline until three in the morning. The next morning she rang his doorbell promptly at nine o'clock, wearing jeans, an old sweater, and a parka. The morning was cool and breezy, but brilliantly sunny. |
| 1735 |
She noticed when he answered the door that Quinn was wearing jeans, a heavy sweater, a thin shell, and deck shoes. "You said sneakers," she said accusingly, as she pointed. She had worn bright red canvas sneakers, as he had said to, and a red sweater to match them, and her eyes were dancing with anticipation. |
| 1736 |
Their Friday nights together had made them supremely comfortable in each other's company. Maggie never bothered to dress up or wear makeup when she was with them. Her long dark hair was clean and shone in the braid she had worn. Quinn liked it when she wore it loose, but he had never said that to her. |
| 1737 |
There was a splendid yacht tied up, much bigger than those that usually were tied up at the yacht club. She was smaller than the one he was building, but she was a hundred and twenty feet of sheer beauty. Quinn walked confidently to the gangway and stepped aboard, and held out a hand to his two cohorts. |
| 1738 |
A crew of four were waiting for them. She was a truly lovely sailboat. There were four cabins below, a handsome dining area on deck, and a short ladder up to an elegant little wheelhouse. And the main saloon was luxurious and comfortable, with a dining area they could use at night or in bad weather. |
| 1739 |
And despite a slight chill to the wind, the weather was warm enough. "What a nice thing to do for us," she said gratefully. If she had dared, she would have thrown her arms around him and hugged him. But even after their many Friday nights together, there was always something a little daunting about him. |
| 1740 |
She offered to cook dinner for him, but he said he had work to do. He was still struggling through probate. It was taking forever. Jack left them in time for his date, and Maggie thanked Quinn again before she went back to her own house, looking like a kid in her braid, white jeans, and red sweater and sneakers. |
| 1741 |
But before that, he wanted to sail around Africa and Europe. Quinn was sitting peacefully in his living room with a cup of tea, reading a sailing magazine, when Maggie rang his doorbell. She was still in her sailing clothes, her hair had come loose from its braid, and she looked slightly embarrassed. |
| 1742 |
It was quite an introduction to sailing. And he had taken to it like a duck to water. He didn't even mind when it got choppy, or when they tacked or jibbed, and the boat heeled as far as it could over the water. Maggie had just plain loved it, and it had reminded her of the best days of her childhood. |
| 1743 |
She was filling in for the teacher who had replaced her and was going on maternity leave. After that, the school had promised to find something for her, if they could. But it was a start, and Quinn agreed that going back to work would be healthy for her. "Good luck on the phone tonight," he said gently. |
| 1744 |
She had a warm, easy open way about her, and he had seen her begin to blossom slowly into the woman she had once been, ever since they'd met. Their Friday nights had benefitted all three of them, even him. "Thanks again, Quinn," she said, and then turning to him, she threw caution to the winds, and gave him a hug. |
| 1745 |
Her hair had brushed his cheek, and he could smell the perfume she wore. It was a fresh airy scent that seemed so typical of her. She was like a breath of air, a summer breeze that had passed through his life, taking with it the sadness that had burdened him for so long. And he had done the same for her. |
| 1746 |
It was a perfect day for sailors the next day, on Saturday, when they left. She met him outside his front door, in a heavy white sweater, jeans, and her bright red sneakers, that always made her look like a kid to him. It was a cold, blustery day with a strong wind, and they took off out of the harbor at a good speed. |
| 1747 |
Quinn had brought shorts with him, and she wore a bathing suit. And by the time they left the boat that night, she felt as though they had been friends forever. He started talking about Jane on the way home. He told her about the poetry Jane had written to him, most of which he hadn't seen until after her death. |
| 1748 |
Jack was the common bond they shared. And Maggie was the light and joy and fun for Quinn, far more than she guessed, or knew. He enjoyed her sunny spirit, her energy, her dry humor, and occasionally insightful wit. But more than anything, he appreciated her tenderness and compassion, which she shared with him and Jack. |
| 1749 |
He came home on Friday morning, and was in good spirits when they met on Friday night. He told them all about it, and reported on his own boat's progress in Holland. Everything was going according to plan, and Maggie was happy for him, although she was beginning to dread what it would be like when he was gone for good. |
| 1750 |
And after lunch, as they sailed peacefully down the coast, she lay on the deck near Quinn and fell asleep, and when she woke, he was sound asleep himself, lying next to her. As she looked over at him, she smiled to herself, thinking that it had been a long time since she lay next to a man, even a friend. |
| 1751 |
And the proximity to Quinn reminded her of that, and was very pleasant. "I know everything," he said wisely, as he opened his eyes and looked at her. They were near the bow of the boat, on comfortable mattresses, lying in the sun. The crew were on the fly bridge deck, and the aft deck, and it was nice to be alone. |
| 1752 |
The moment had come for her finally when she knew that there was nothing she could have done. For her, the truth had come in a thousand tiny moments, like shards that formed a window she could finally look through. It came in talking to others like him, on the phone late at night, and long nights of introspection. |
| 1753 |
That had been the green flash for her, and she hoped that one day Quinn would find that too. He was still tormented about what he hadn't done, and hadn't been, and couldn't do, and until he surrendered and accepted and knew that he couldn't have changed anything, not even himself, he would have to run. |
| 1754 |
It was a moment in which two worlds gently approached each other and melted into one, and neither of them wanted the moment to end. It was a long time before he opened his eyes and looked at her. He wanted her, but knew he had to be honest with her, or whatever they shared would damage both of them. |
| 1755 |
It was the only way to love him. Loving him meant never holding him, as well as letting him go, and she knew that to the roots of her soul. He seemed to relax then, as he pulled her close to him. They lay side by side together, looking up at the sails, and saying nothing. There was nothing they had to say. |
| 1756 |
Quinn seemed happier and more relaxed than he had seen him in months. And when Maggie joined them for dinner, she was wearing her long dark hair loose down her back. They had spent the night together on the Molly B the night before. Neither of them was encumbered, their life and time were their own. |
| 1757 |
Quinn hadn't felt that way in years. And although he hadn't admitted it to her, with Maggie he felt as if he had regained his youth. With him, she had found something she had never known before. Above all, the passion and the love they shared had brought them both peace. It was a union that soothed both their souls. |
| 1758 |
She wouldn't have been ready for it years before, and neither would he. But they had come together at a time that healed them both. It was another month before Jack looked at them standing near each other one night cooking dinner, and finally figured it out. He couldn't imagine why he hadn't thought of it before. |
| 1759 |
And having lost so much in her life, Maggie expected less of him. She was tender and loving, and at the same time, independent and self sufficient. She loved him, and was doing so with wide open arms, which was exactly what he wanted from her. He never wanted to hurt or disappoint anyone again, as he had Jane. |
| 1760 |
Maggie left Quinn alone in the morning of the anniversary, and went for a walk with him in the afternoon. And that night, he spent the night on the boat alone. He seemed better when he came back the next day. The day after the anniversary, like the hand of destiny meddling in their life again, his house sold. |
| 1761 |
And in late June, he invited her to go to Holland with him, to see the boat. He had been over three or four times that spring, to check on it, but this time he wanted to show it to her. He gave her the plane ticket as a gift. She hesitated to accept it, but it was expensive for her, and Quinn knew it. |
| 1762 |
Maggie followed them quietly, listening to their suggestions and Quinn's. And she was amazed once again at the caliber of the work they had done. The main saloon was wood paneled, as were all the cabins, Quinn's stateroom looked palatial to her, and all of the bathrooms were done in the finest Italian marble. |
| 1763 |
It meant night flight, which suited the sleek look of the boat, and the purposes he intended her for. Maggie could easily imagine him sailing through the night from one exotic place to another, on his solitary adventures, much like a pilot in a night sky, beneath the stars, feeling at one with his maker. |
| 1764 |
And as it was in Quinn's, Maggie's love for boats was in her bloodstream. They each selected movies to watch on their individual screens, and ordered dinner. They chatted quietly while they ate, about the details of the boat, and afterward, Maggie put her seat back and watched the movie till she fell asleep. |
| 1765 |
They went through customs rapidly at that hour, and took a cab to the city. They were halfway there when he looked at her. They had no reason to go home that night, and suddenly he didn't want to. He liked sleeping next to her, and he was still reluctant to spend a night with her in either of their houses. |
| 1766 |
After all he had done, and failed to do in his life, he knew he did not deserve to spend the rest of his life with Maggie. She was young enough to find someone else, have a wholesome life, and forget him. And he had never said it to her, but it concerned him that he was twenty years older than she was. |
| 1767 |
Indulging himself with a woman two thirds his age, and dragging her around the world with him seemed as selfish as what he had done to Jane, and the egocentric life he had led, for which Alex could not forgive him. He knew he was doing the right thing in setting Maggie free when he left, and promising her nothing. |
| 1768 |
If anything, he was going to urge her to forget him. His mind was full of thoughts of her, his heart eased with the warmth of her next to him, but he said nothing to her. He was already up and dressed when she awoke the next morning. They had left the dock at eight o'clock, and the Molly B was already sailing. |
| 1769 |
Her life was very simple now, although she knew it would be busier once she went back to teaching in September. She was going back to work around the same time he left for the sea trials. Jack was at the house when Quinn walked in, just finishing some work in the kitchen, and when he saw Quinn, he looked mournful. |
| 1770 |
No one had ever been as kind to him in his life, except Maggie. The two of them had become precious friends to him, and he knew he would never forget Quinn for the horizons he had opened. His life had been changed forever. Michelle sat watching them silently, and kissed Jack when he sat down next to her again. |
| 1771 |
She seemed very young to them. She was only twenty four, but it was obvious that she was deeply in love with Jack, and admired him greatly. After another round of champagne, Quinn invited Jack to walk around the deck with him, while the two women chatted. Maggie felt as though she was talking to a daughter. |
| 1772 |
She kissed Jack first for his accomplishments, and then both of them for their engagement. And Quinn cheered up after another glass of champagne and a brandy. The young couple stayed until one o'clock and then left. Quinn looked sad when they went to bed that night. Maggie had already understood what was behind it. |
| 1773 |
And all Quinn could do was live with it now. He could never erase the pain he'd caused those who loved him. And he didn't want Maggie to be another casualty to him, even if she was willing. He wanted more than that for her, even if it meant protecting her from himself. He didn't think that he deserved her love. |
| 1774 |
He was sad that Jack wasn't coming with him. Sad that he was leaving her. For all the joy he knew his boat would give him, he knew that it was not a sign of victory, but of defeat, when he finally sailed off. He knew he had failed to give Jane the best he could, and in a way, he was doing it again with Maggie. |
| 1775 |
In all fairness, probably too much. "I love you, Quinn," she whispered, as she looked up at him. There was a thin sliver of moonlight that had stolen into the room, and she could see his face clearly, etched against the darkness around them. He lay silently next to her for a long time, and held her close to him. |
| 1776 |
People feel cheated by what they didn't get. What they don't see is what they did have, and that it was the best the man could do at the time. You can't do it all, or be perfect for all those you love. There are women who do the same thing these days, focus on their careers and shortchange their families. |
| 1777 |
She had looked so shy and sad and scared the first time she had walked into his kitchen. And now she was flourishing, and enjoying sailing with him. He knew she was sad about her son at times, but she no longer had that look of agony in her eyes that she had had when they first met the morning after the big storm. |
| 1778 |
Theirs had been a bond of respect and loyalty, quiet companionship when they were together, deep affection, and Jane's endless patience. What he shared with Maggie was younger and more joyful, and far more passionate, just as Maggie was herself. The last days of August were better than ever for them. |
| 1779 |
It was a strange feeling watching the movers empty the house. He felt a pang every time he saw some familiar favorite piece loaded onto the truck. It was as though they were taking away the landmarks of his life. And when the house was finally empty, he stood looking around, and felt a terrible ache in his heart. |
| 1780 |
He was essentially living with her on the sailboat he had chartered. He would never have been as comfortable with her in his own house. He had always felt it was Jane's. And he tried to explain to her what an odd feeling it had been to watch all their belongings being taken away, and standing alone in the empty house. |
| 1781 |
He had told Maggie to use the Molly B as often as she wanted, and she thanked him, but said it would make her sad to be on board without him, which touched him. They spent a long, loving night in each other's arms, and Maggie wouldn't allow herself to think that these were almost their final moments. |
| 1782 |
And it had been Alex's tragedy too, when she lost her brother. It had traumatized her forever, and Quinn knew from Jane that his daughter was extremely cautious with her children, which made it all the more meaningful that she was trusting him with them. Particularly after all the hostility between them. |
| 1783 |
She knew what it meant to him to have evidence of his daughter's forgiveness. It was the greatest gift she could give him. He packed his suitcase on the boat, and half an hour later, left for the attorney's office. He was meeting Maggie at her house at three that afternoon, and she was driving him to the airport. |
| 1784 |
When he met her there, he was wearing a suit and tie, and carrying his briefcase. She had brought his suitcase from the boat, and they were both ready. She was wearing a short black dress and high heels, and she looked young and pretty. He hated to leave her, and said as much in the car, on the way to the airport. |
| 1785 |
And Maggie did nothing to resist it. It was a fact of life with him, and loving him, that she accepted. At the airport, she went in with him as far as she could, and he kissed her before he left her. He told her he'd call as soon as he got to the boat, and hoped their communications system was in full operation. |
| 1786 |
It was one o'clock in the morning for her, and he told her quickly what time he would arrive that day, and his flight number from London. And then he told her to go back to sleep, and he hung up. He was excited to see her, and pleased for her that she was pregnant. He knew Jane would have been happy for her too. |
| 1787 |
But he knew he had no choice. If he delayed his trip, it would only be worse, and he couldn't take her with him. He knew taking her would be the wrong thing to do. He had made a vow to Jane's memory. To atone for his sins and be alone. He was convinced that that was why the recurring dreams had gone. |
| 1788 |
He and his conscience had made a deal, and finally made peace to honor his promise to her, or he would be devoured by guilt forever. He needed the solitude of his life on the boat, for himself, and the freedom to leave just as he had told Maggie he would in the beginning. Above all, he needed his freedom. |
| 1789 |
He felt he had no right to companionship forever. He had to leave. And Maggie needed to go back to her own life, with friends and people she knew, and her teaching. He couldn't drag her around the world with him. He had to do what he had said he would. No matter how painful for both of them, he had to leave her. |
| 1790 |
But as he looked at her, he felt as if all the anger she had felt toward him for so long had dissipated. He didn't know where it had gone, but he was grateful for its disappearance. Half an hour later, he boarded the plane with the boys. They would be in Amsterdam at seven thirty, and on the boat two hours later. |
| 1791 |
She was waving and wiping tears from her eyes when he last saw her. He was busy with the boys for the entire flight, and grateful for the distraction the flight attendants provided. They had coloring books and crayons for them, and brought them each a glass of fruit juice. And the boys kept him laughing and amused. |
| 1792 |
Although they hadn't seen him in more than a year, they seemed to be entirely at ease with him. They wanted to know all about his new sailboat. It kept him wide awake and well entertained answering all their questions. When they arrived in Amsterdam, they were met by the captain and first mate, and Tem Hakker. |
| 1793 |
Once there, they were amazed by the size of the boat, and the stewardess whisked them off to the galley for dinner. Quinn was extremely pleased by all he could see, and he asked about a thousand details, and he was happy with all of Tem's answers. He and both his sons were coming on the sea trials with them. |
| 1794 |
The boat was even more splendid than he'd expected. She looked incredible now that she was in the water. They still had to christen her, but they were going to do that at the yard when he came back in October. Tem Hakker was going to arrange a little ceremony, his wife was going to be her godmother. |
| 1795 |
He was looking forward to the next few weeks, and also to seeing her again afterward in San Francisco. This was the trial balloon for his freedom, and the deal he had struck with his anguished dreams. He was sacrificing the love he had found with Maggie, and himself, to pay the debt he still felt he owed Jane. |
| 1796 |
He was still going to leave her. But he knew he would love her even as he did it, and maybe it was better that she knew it. He hadn't wanted to be unkind to her and strengthen their bond before he broke it, but he knew how much it meant to her, and it was the least he could do for her, to at least say it. |
| 1797 |
Quinn couldn't believe how fast the time had gone, and he had spoken to Maggie several times in San Francisco. She said she was exhausted and harassed, she had forgotten what teaching was like, and how boisterous her students could be, but she sounded happy and busy, and said she could hardly wait to see him. |
| 1798 |
He knew he would see her again one day, he had no intention of abandoning her completely. He would call from time to time. But he was determined not to take her into his new life with him. That had been their agreement from the beginning, and he was going to hold them both to it. As much for his sake as for Maggie's. |
| 1799 |
But he had the impression now that his features had been his mother's. And for the first time in twenty four years, he realized how much he missed him. He had finally allowed himself to feel it. All his pores seemed to be open these days, and Quinn nearly cried again when he saw Alex waiting for them at the airport. |
| 1800 |
And the next morning, before he left, Alex thanked him again, and told him how much it had meant to her to see him. It was as though all the rage had gone out of her, like an illness that had been cured, a miraculous healing she'd experienced during the year he hadn't seen her. She told him she had prayed about it. |
| 1801 |
Maggie had been an adventure of the heart, a moment of sunshine amidst rain, and it was time for him to continue on his solitary path now. He was absolutely certain that it was what he wanted. He promised Alex when he left that he would try to come and see her after she had the baby. He could fly from wherever he was. |
| 1802 |
It was only when they went to bed at night that she felt they found each other again and truly connected. It was when she lay next to him with his arm around her that she felt all she had for him, and knew that he felt the same way about her. The rest of the time, Quinn seemed to have put his guard up. |
| 1803 |
Jack came to dinner with them on Friday night, and he said he was loving school, and Michelle was busy planning their wedding. Quinn offered to charter a boat for their honeymoon, and Jack declined regretfully. Michelle would have hated it, since she got seasick, unlike Maggie, who would have loved it. |
| 1804 |
They knew it was coming, and even when. She felt as though he were going to pull the plug on her respirator, and even though she had always known it would come to this, she had never expected it to hurt quite so acutely. By the second week, the anticipated end began to cause both friction and tension between them. |
| 1805 |
He said as much to Maggie again as they sat on the aft deck under the sails. She was looking miserably unhappy, and could no longer conceal it, nor tried. "I can't believe she'd have expected that of you," Maggie said, looking out to sea, and feeling as though she were about to scatter her own ashes. |
| 1806 |
He no longer had the energy to begin a life with anyone, and he hadn't earned it. He had made too big a botch of the last one, as far as he was concerned. And he didn't want to make a mess of it with Maggie, he didn't want to risk it. He loved her too much to hurt her. They had each suffered enough pain in their lives. |
| 1807 |
There was nothing left to say. It had all been said a thousand times, a thousand ways. She wished that she had had Jane's gift with poems. But all she felt in her heart now was pain, the agony of loss she had already felt too often for one lifetime. Quinn lay next to her on the deck, and held her hand. |
| 1808 |
Quinn had ordered a sumptuous dinner for them, with caviar and champagne, and Maggie barely touched it. And shortly afterward, they went to their cabin. It was then that she began to cry, and looked at him with eyes that tore his heart out. It almost made him regret coming back after the sea trials. |
| 1809 |
This was too hard for both of them, and he wondered if he had made a mistake coming back to San Francisco, if that had been even crueler to her. But however they had done it, or when, the end would have been excruciatingly painful. Before they went to bed, she stood in her nightgown please take me with you. |
| 1810 |
In the end, she lay and sobbed in his arms for most of the night, and in the morning they both looked as though someone had died. It took every ounce of courage she had to dress and follow him upstairs to breakfast. She just sat silently with tears rolling down her cheeks, as he looked at her, as bereft as she was. |
| 1811 |
And she knew she couldn't. He held her for a last time, and kissed her, storing the memories for himself, and she touched his face one last time before he put her in a cab. His was coming in a few minutes. As she pulled away, he stood on the deck watching her. Their eyes never left each other for a single moment. |
| 1812 |
She sat in her kitchen, watching the clock. And when she knew his plane had taken off, she put her head down on the table and sobbed. She sat there for hours, crying and never moving. She had cherished the months she spent with him, and now she knew she had to do what she had promised, no matter how painful. |
| 1813 |
She had to let him go, to be how and where and what he wanted, whether or not it made sense to her. If she loved him as she said she had, she had to let him have the one thing he wanted of her. His freedom. She sat with her eyes closed for a long, long time, thinking of him, and willing him to be as free as he wanted. |
| 1814 |
She went to work and was painfully distracted. She could barely manage to give assignments and correct papers. All she wanted to do was stay home, and think of the time they had shared. Each remembered moment now seemed even more precious. The only useful thing she did was volunteer again for the teen suicide hotline. |
| 1815 |
And Jack looked almost as depressed as she did. He said he really missed him. Quinn had shared so much with them, and given of himself so freely, and yet she knew he couldn't forgive himself for past sins. She had his Satcom number on the boat, for emergencies, but she had promised herself not to call him. |
| 1816 |
Their wedding was scheduled for the week before Christmas. Maggie had promised to attend, but she wasn't in the mood for it. She hadn't bothered to buy a dress, and pulled a short black dress out of her closet the afternoon of the wedding. Jack had told her a few days before that he'd had a postcard from Quinn. |
| 1817 |
It would just make her cry again, and there was no point in that. She had cried endlessly in the past two months. Her gift to him was to free him. She went to Jack's wedding that afternoon, cried copiously during the ceremony, and felt morbidly depressed during the reception. She didn't want to dance with anyone. |
| 1818 |
She was trying to pull out of it, but after Andrew's death, it had become increasingly difficult to lose anyone or anything. And losing Quinn was a loss of such magnitude that it had reopened all her other wounds. But no matter how painful it was for her, she knew she had to survive it. She owed Quinn that. |
| 1819 |
Maggie was sure they would be very happy. It was only on Christmas Eve that she began to find a sense of peace about what had happened. Instead of looking at the years she wouldn't share with him, she thought of the months she had, what a blessing they had been for her, and how lucky she was to have known him. |
| 1820 |
Just as she had done two and a half years before with Andrew. She concentrated on gratitude instead of loss, and she thought of calling him on Christmas morning, and after wrestling with herself for two hours, she managed not to. She knew that if he wanted to talk to her, he would have called her, and he didn't. |
| 1821 |
He went to midnight Mass with them, and in the long forgotten tradition of his youth, he lit a candle for Maggie. Alex had had the baby two weeks before, and as he had promised her he would, he had come to see her. It was something he knew Jane would have done, and he did it for her, since she couldn't. |
| 1822 |
Alex had had a girl this time, and the boys were fascinated by her. They were constantly holding and touching and kissing her. And Alex was remarkably relaxed when they nearly dropped her. She was happy to have some time with her father. He sat with her quietly and talked, while she nursed the baby. |
| 1823 |
He felt sure that she would view it as a betrayal of her mother. He still loved Jane, and thought about her, but it was Maggie who came to mind constantly, as he sat on deck at night and looked at the ocean. Jane seemed more like part of the distant past, and Maggie was integrally woven into the fabric of the present. |
| 1824 |
Hearing her now, and talking to her, would just be painful for both of them. He was determined to let her go. He wanted her to have a better life than he felt he could give her. They changed their course after a week of rain, and by the second week, the entire crew was tired of it, and so was Quinn. |
| 1825 |
They got out their charts and began mapping a new course, hoping to find better weather, but it was worse instead. Vol de Nuit was pitching and rolling in heavy seas. Everyone but Quinn and the captain was sick, and Quinn jokingly said they'd have to lash the crew to their beds if the weather didn't get better. |
| 1826 |
The seas were so rough that a piece of furniture had broken loose and fallen over. He looked at the gauges next to his bed, and saw that the winds had reached gale force. He put on his clothes and made his way to the bridge to talk to the captain. Their new course seemed to have taken them into the worst of the storm. |
| 1827 |
Quinn was startled by the size of the waves breaking over the deck when he met the first mate, the engineer, and the captain in the wheelhouse. They were looking over the weather reports and watching the radar. There was green water sweeping over the deck, and the waves were crashing over the wheelhouse. |
| 1828 |
There was nothing they could do at this point, but ride through it. But it was unsettling for everyone, and as Quinn watched the waves, he was genuinely concerned for the first time. They were the roughest seas he'd ever seen. The waves were as tall as skyscrapers, towering seventy or eighty feet above them. |
| 1829 |
The two stewardesses had joined them in the wheelhouse by then, and reluctantly the captain told everyone to put life vests on. There seemed to be a distinct possibility that they might not make it. They radioed to the nearest ship, and were told that the tanker had gone down, and no one had made it into the lifeboats. |
| 1830 |
There would have been no point anyway. No one could have survived this. Shortly after nine o'clock there was another distress call on the emergency frequency. A fleet of fishing boats had gone down. Quinn and the captain exchanged a long look, and somewhere in the wheelhouse, a crew member was praying out loud. |
| 1831 |
He would have offered them something to fortify them and keep their spirits up, as they'd been up all night, but they needed to keep their wits about them. He stood at the windows watching the waves again, and as he stared into the driving rain, he could have sworn he saw a woman's face, and it was Maggie. |
| 1832 |
And as he thought of her, and the time they had spent together, he had an overwhelming urge to call her, and promised himself he would, if they survived the storm, which was beginning to seem less and less likely. Vol de Nuit could only stand so much abuse, and the waves seemed to be getting bigger instead of smaller. |
| 1833 |
They were telling war stories about storms they'd been in, and Quinn did the best he could to keep the conversation going, but you could smell terror on their skins, and the sight of all of them in life vests was anything but reassuring. Some of the men had lit cigarettes, and a few were still not talking. |
| 1834 |
He was glad she wasn't there, the last thing he would have wanted to do was kill her. And both of the stewardesses were crying. This time, when the boat crashed down, two of the men started singing, and the others slowly joined them. If they were going to die, they were going to go like men, with guts and style. |
| 1835 |
They were a brave band as the storm raged on. It seemed like an eternity, but by noon, they were moving ever so slowly into calmer waters. The storm continued to rage on, but the waves were not quite as ominous, and the boat wasn't shaking quite as badly. It was nightfall before the rain and wind began to slow down. |
| 1836 |
By sheer miracle, the boat had survived and they had lost no one. Both Quinn and the captain had been certain at one point that the boat would go down. It was a real miracle that she hadn't. And for the first time in his life, Quinn knew without a doubt that nothing but a miracle could have saved them. |
| 1837 |
She was beginning to enjoy her work again. And she had saved a fourteen year old girl two nights before on the hotline. Her life was beginning to make sense again, although she couldn't say that she was enjoying it. But her mind was clear, and her heart was not constantly as heavy. Only when she thought about him. |
| 1838 |
The scars and memories remained, but in time, one learned to live with the damage, and even function in spite of it. She couldn't let losing Quinn destroy her life. She had no choice but to survive it. If not, everything she said to kids on the hotline was a lie, and she couldn't allow that to happen to her. |
| 1839 |
If she could give them a reason to live, she had to find one. She couldn't allow herself to mourn him forever. She couldn't afford it. She got up and showered and dressed for school. She drank a cup of coffee, and ate a piece of toast, and half a grapefruit. She put her raincoat on and went out in the rain. |
| 1840 |
She couldn't imagine what he was doing, and she had her head down in the wind and rain, when he reached out for her and she jumped away. It was a crazy hour of the day for someone to attack her. But all he did was wrap his arms around her as she tried to push away, and he just stood there and held her. |
| 1841 |
And losing him nearly had. But like him, she had faced the storm he'd left her in and survived it. They stood there in the rain, looking at each other, trying to see what was left, if anything. They had been washed over the side by forces stronger than they were, and had no idea if they could get back. |
| 1842 |
In the jaws of death, he had found forgiveness. He knew that if he had been saved, then he deserved her. It was why he had seen her face that night, as though she had been a vision and a promise. He had found what he'd been looking for, not only forgiveness, but freedom. He had paid his dues to the utmost farthing. |
| 1843 |
And she reminded him, as she leaned over and kissed him, that it had been a storm that brought them together in the first place. He dropped her off at school, and she waved at him, as he sat and watched her run through the rain. She was the miracle that had come into his life, and brought forgiveness. |
| 1844 |
It had long since become a fashionable neighborhood of mostly modern apartment buildings with doormen, and old renovated brownstones. Olympia was fixing lunch for her five year old son, Max. The school bus was due to drop him off in a few minutes. He was in kindergarten at Dalton, and Friday was a half day for him. |
| 1845 |
Her father had never really worked, and as one of her distant relatives had said after he died, "he had a small fortune, he had made it from a large one." By the time she cleaned up all their debts and sold their property, there was simply no money, just rivers of blue blood and aristocratic connections. |
| 1846 |
He went to work in his family's investment bank, and did anything he wanted, which eventually included going to work as seldom as possible, spending literally no time with her, and having random affairs with a multitude of women. By the time she knew what was happening, she and Chauncey had three children. |
| 1847 |
Other than the fact that he was her children's father and she had loved him when she married him, for the past fifteen years, Olympia found it impossible to defend him. Prejudice was Chauncey's middle name. There was absolutely nothing politically correct about him or Felicia, and Harry loathed him. |
| 1848 |
They shared all of the same extremely liberal, socially responsible ideas. Virginia, her twin, was much more of a throwback to their Newport ancestry, and was far more frivolous than her twin sister. Charlie, their older brother, was at Dartmouth, studying theology and threatening to become a minister. |
| 1849 |
The stories of Frieda's childhood and lost loved ones always made Olympia weep. Frieda Rubinstein had a number tattooed on the inside of her left wrist, which was a sobering reminder of the childhood the Nazis had stolen from her. Because of it, she had worn long sleeves all her life, and still did. |
| 1850 |
It all happened precisely as he had feared it would. As one of the fifty wealthiest women in the world, she became the puppy of the paparazzi again. Every day in some newspaper, there was a mention or a photograph or a blurb or a quote or a joke. Other papers sent their society reporters over to catch glimpses of her. |
| 1851 |
After that he had not taken her out publicly for years... and for years after that, there were the photographs of her that were repressed, and those that were not. The dates she was afraid to have, and then had and regretted, until at seventeen she had feared notoriety more than anything. At eighteen she had hated it. |
| 1852 |
But he was surprised at her skill at avoiding photographers when she wanted to (now he even took her to the opera again) and the marvelous way she had of putting down reporters, with a wide dazzling smile and a word or two that made them wonder if she was laughing at them or with them, or about to call the police. |
| 1853 |
She had that about her. Something threatening, the raw edge of power. But she had something gentle too. It was that that baffled everyone. She was a peculiar combination of her parents. Kezia had the satiny delicacy of her mother and the sheer strength of her father. The two had always been an unusual couple. |
| 1854 |
Hundreds of years of British tradition, a maternal great grandfather who was a duke although her paternal grandfather had only been an earl but Liane had such breeding, such style, such elegance of spirit. Such stature. Edward had fallen head over heels in love with her right from the first. And she had never known. |
| 1855 |
Keenan hadn't given a damn about anything after Liane died, and Edward had always suspected that he had just let it happen, just let the Mercedes slide along the barrier, let it careen into the oncoming highway traffic. He had probably been drunk, or maybe only very tired. Not really a suicide, just the end. |
| 1856 |
Of course, by some standards Keenan had had to get his hands a little bit dirty, but not very. He was always so spectacular, and such a gentleman, the kind of man whom people forgave anything, even the fact that he made much of his own money. Liane, on the other hand, was Kezia's threat, her terror. |
| 1857 |
The look that said the plans had been made, the decisions taken, and there wasn't a hell of a lot you could do about it. Now what? She had pulled out a copy of the morning's paper, and folded it to a page in the second section. He couldn't imagine what he might have missed. He read the paper thoroughly every morning. |
| 1858 |
It was a well informed, slightly cynical, and highly astute account of Jet Set doings in their private haunts. No one had any idea who Martin Hallam was, and everyone was still trying to guess who the traitor might be. Whoever he was, he wrote without malice but certainly with a great deal of inside information. |
| 1859 |
Even the editor doesn't know who writes it. Everything goes through my literary agent, and he's extremely discreet. I had to give them a month of sample columns to show that I knew what I was talking about, but word came back to us today. The column will now run as a regular feature three times a week. |
| 1860 |
This was one number he always dialed himself. It rang twice, and she answered. The voice was husky, the way she always sounded in the morning. The way he liked best. There was something very private about that voice. He often wondered what she wore to bed, and then reprimanded himself for the thought. |
| 1861 |
Twenty two blocks from where he sat, Kezia was lying in bed, finishing her tea. There was a stack of newspapers on her bed, a pile of mail on the table next to her. The curtains were drawn back, and she had a peaceful view of the garden behind the townhouse next door. A bird was cooing on the air conditioner. |
| 1862 |
When she opened the door, a slim, nervous Puerto Rican boy held out a long white box. She knew what was in the box even before she traded the boy a dollar for his burden. She knew who the box was from. She even knew the florist. And knew also that she would recognize his secretary's writing on the card. |
| 1863 |
And a useful one. He was the ideal and eternal escort, and so totally safe. It was appalling to remember that a year or two before she had even considered marrying him. There didn't seem any reason not to. They would go on doing the same things they were doing, and Kezia would tell him about the column. |
| 1864 |
The men wore dark suits and white shirts, and had gray at their temples, and shared their wealth of Romanoff cigars from Cuba via Switzerland in unmarked brown packages. La Grenouille was the watering hole of the very rich and the very chic. Merely having an ample expense account to pay the tab was not adequate entree. |
| 1865 |
She felt eyes on her, acknowledged discreet greetings as she passed tables of people she knew, and the waiters smiled. She had grown into it all years ago. Recognition. At sixteen it had agonized her, at eighteen it was a custom, at twenty two she had fought against it, and now at twenty nine she enjoyed it. |
| 1866 |
She inquired about all his most important clients, remembered all their names, and wanted to know what he had done about the couch in his apartment that so desperately needed re upholstering. They said hello to everyone they knew, and were joined for brief moments by two of his partners in the firm. |
| 1867 |
The cab took Kezia home and deposited her at her door with a flourish of brakes and scattered curbside litter, and Kezia went upstairs and hung the white Dior dress neatly in the closet. Half an hour later she was in jeans, her hair hanging free, the answering service instructed to pick up her calls. |
| 1868 |
Another home. Warehouses and tired tenements, fire escapes and delicatessens, and a few blocks away the art galleries and coffee houses and lofts crowded with artists and writers, sculptors and poets, beards and bandannas. A place where Camus and Sartre were still revered, and de Kooning and Pollock were gods. |
| 1869 |
To Mark? Yes, in a way... even she knew it. He shooed her out the door with another ripple of laughter, and she found herself in the familiar doorway across the street. She hadn't even looked up at the window, but instead nervously searched strangers' faces. Her heart hammered as she ran up the five flights. |
| 1870 |
She reached the landing, breathless and dizzy, and raised a hand to knock at the door. It flew open almost before she touched it, and she was suddenly wrapped in the arms of an endlessly tall, hopelessly thin, fuzzy haired man. He kissed her and lifted her into his arms, pulling her inside with a shout and a grin. |
| 1871 |
She lounged in the doorway, her head to one side, watching him open the champagne. And suddenly she felt as though she loved him, and that was absurd too. They both knew she didn't. It wasn't that kind of thing. They both understood... but it would have been nice not to understand, just for a moment. |
| 1872 |
Kezia was resplendent in a blue gray satin dress that circled her neck in a halter and left her back bare to show her deep summer tan. Small diamond earrings glistened at her ears, and her hair was swept into a neat knot high on her head. Whit's impeccable evening clothes set off his classic good looks. |
| 1873 |
The Baron was real. So real it made her feel hopeless at times. A gilded cage from which one never escapes. One never escapes one's name and one's face and one's ancestors and one's father or one's mother, no matter how many years they've been dead. One never escapes all the bullshit about Noblesse oblige. |
| 1874 |
But neither was very nourishing. What she needed was good, wholesome steak. Counting on Mark's world for sustenance was like hiding with a six month supply of Oreo cookies and nothing else. She simply had one world to offset the other, one man to complement another, and the worst of it was that she knew it. |
| 1875 |
He was an excellent catch. On the dance floor, Kezia was whirling slowly in the arms of the Baron. Whitney was engaged in earnest conversation with a young broker with long, elegant hands. The clock on the wall struck three. Tiffany went to sit dizzily on a red velvet banquette at the back of the room. |
| 1876 |
Oh God, she prayed that she wouldn't. Sometimes when she was very drunk she wanted to ask her brother the same thing. Once she had even asked her mother, and her mother had slapped her. Hard. The question always burned in her when she was this drunk. Champagne always did it to her, and sometimes gin. |
| 1877 |
This was the first "season" when it had rankled right at the beginning. It usually took a few months to get to her. This year, the restlessness had come early. She smoked a last cigarette, turned off the light, and it seemed as though only a few moments later the alarm was ringing. It was eight o'clock in the morning. |
| 1878 |
None of it was interesting and she was restless. She had another article in mind; maybe that would help. A piece on child abuse in middle class homes. It would be a hot and heavy piece if Simpson could find a market for it. She wondered if the Marshes, with their parties for a cast of thousands, ever thought of that. |
| 1879 |
She would have liked to buy it from him, but she couldn't do that, and she wouldn't let him give it to her. She knew he needed the money, and that was one commodity she was wise enough not to exchange with him. "Well, you slammed the door, so I figured something must be bugging you." He had given her back her keys. |
| 1880 |
The end of the day, when those who worked at night began to come alive, and those who worked by day needed to stretch and walk. Later there would be more people in the streets, wandering, talking, smoking grass, drifting, stopping in at the cafes, en route to the studios of friends or someone's latest sculpture show. |
| 1881 |
But Fiorella never asked. Kezia paid and left with the string bag full. She stopped next door to buy eggs, and down the street she went into the delicatessen for three boxes of chocolate cookies, the kind he liked best. On her way back, she strolled slowly through the ever thickening groups on the street. |
| 1882 |
It was a beautiful September, still warm, but the air felt cleaner than it usually did, and there were pink lights in the sky, like one of Mark's early water colors, rich in pastels. Pigeons cooed and waddled down the street, and bicycles leaned against buildings; here and there a child skipped rope. |
| 1883 |
Like in Europe. Le passeggiate, the walks Italians take every evening at dusk, and at noon on Sundays, in funny little old towns where most of the women wear black and the men wear hats and white shirts, baggy suits and no ties. Proud farmers, good people. They check out their scene, greet their friends. |
| 1884 |
First they would walk, and then they would run into friends and stop to chat on the street for a while. It would get dark and they would take refuge in someone's studio, so Mark could see the progress of a friend's latest work, and eventually the studio would grow crowded so they would all go to The Partridge for wine. |
| 1885 |
Tiffany was first on line, and seemed to weave as she stood, smiling amiably at her friends. Kezia looked away and let her eyes comb the crowd. They were all here, all the same faces, and one or two new ones, but even the newcomers were not strangers. They had just added this committee to their myriad others. |
| 1886 |
The echoes she heard brought back other memories, memories that were long gone but would never quite be forgotten. Memories of reproaches she had heard from behind closed doors, warnings, and the sounds of someone violently sick to her stomach. Her mother. Like Tiffany. She hated watching Tiffany now. |
| 1887 |
The silence was easier. Tiffany wanted to invite Kezia home to dinner, but she couldn't remember if Bill was in town, and he didn't like her friends. He wanted to be able to read the work he brought home after dinner, or go out to his meetings, without feeling he had to stick around and make chitchat. |
| 1888 |
Bright sunny skies, a light breeze, little pollution and a low pollen count, and she and Mark had painted the bedroom a bright cornflower blue. "In honor of your eyes," he told her as she worked diligently around the window. It was a bitch of a job, but when they had finished, they were both immensely pleased. |
| 1889 |
She left him at six the next morning. He slept like a child, his head on his arms, his hair hiding his eyes, his lips soft to her touch. "Goodbye, my beloved, sleep tight." She kissed him gently on one temple, and whispered into his hair. It would be noon before he awoke, and she would be far from him by then. |
| 1890 |
They wanted him out of their hair, so he got out and got organized on the outside. He's had a tremendous impact on the public awareness in terms of what really happens in our prisons. Matter of fact, he wrote a very powerful book on the subject when he first got out a year or two ago, can't quite remember when. |
| 1891 |
I've seen him speak, but I've never met him. One gets the impression that he'll tell anyone anything about prisons, but nothing about himself. He'd be a challenge to interview. I'd say he's very guarded, but appealing in an odd way. He looks like a man who fears nothing because he has nothing to lose. |
| 1892 |
Some have already lost all they care about. He had a wife and child before he went to prison. The child died in a hit and run accident, and the wife committed suicide two years before his release. Maybe he's one of those who has already lost... Something like that can break you. Or give you an odd kind of freedom. |
| 1893 |
Not in practice. And right now you have a chance to do an article that would not only interest you, but would be an extremely good opportunity for you professionally, Kezia. I can't let you pass that up. Not without telling you why I think you ought to do it, in any case. I think you'd be a fool not to. |
| 1894 |
But I think you're getting to a point when you have to make some choices. And the fact is that they're not going to be easy whether you make them now, over this particular article, or later, over something else. My main concern is that you make those choices, and don't just let life, and your career, pass you by. |
| 1895 |
The book jacket in her hand looked unimpressive as she perused it in the elevator. There was no photograph of Lucas Johns on the back, only a brief biography which told her less about him than Simpson had. It was odd, though; from what she had heard that morning, she already had a clear picture of the man. |
| 1896 |
Six years in prison had to do strange things to a man, and it surely couldn't add to his beauty. Armed robbery too... a little fat man in a liquor store with a gun. And now he was respected, and she was being offered a chance to interview him. Still, despite all the talk with Simpson, she knew she couldn't do that. |
| 1897 |
His farthest horizon was his easel, and even if he knew, he wouldn't really care. It would make him laugh, but it wouldn't matter. Lucas Johns might be different. He might try to use her notoriety to his advantage. She tried to shrug off her fears as the cab pulled up in front of the address Simpson had given her. |
| 1898 |
The borrowed apartment was on the nineteenth floor of a substantial looking building across from the lake. The parquet floors in the foyer echoed beneath her feet. Above her head was an elaborate crystal chandelier. And the ghostly form of a grand piano stood silent beneath a dust sheet at the foot of the stairs. |
| 1899 |
Kezia watched the man's face. He was setting the stage and the pace. Low key, low voiced, yet with a powerful impact. It was the matter of fact way that he discussed the horrors of the prisons that affected her most. It was almost odd that they would put this man on before Johns; it would be a tough act to follow. |
| 1900 |
She looked at the speaker again. He had the coloring of her father. Almost jet black hair, and fiery green eyes that seemed to fix people in their places. He sought eyes he knew, and held them, speaking only to them, and then moving on, covering the room, the voice low, the hands immobile, the face taut. |
| 1901 |
It had been a strange sensation, like being backed against the wall with a hand at your throat, and another stroking your hair; you wanted to cringe in fear, and melt with pleasure. She felt warm suddenly, in the room full of people, and quietly looked around, wondering why this man was taking so long. |
| 1902 |
No rush. And by the way, I was very impressed by your speech last night. You seem so at ease on the stage. You have a nice knack for bringing a difficult subject down to human proportions without sounding self righteous about what you know firsthand and your listeners haven't experienced. That's quite an art. |
| 1903 |
He had a very quiet way of just sitting, barely moving, his eyes watching the person he spoke to. But it was more like the cautious stance of an animal sniffing the air for signs of attack or approach, ready to spring in a moment. Kezia could sense too that he was wary of her, and not totally at ease. |
| 1904 |
She was the writer, had worked hard at her craft over the past seven years, and yet he had written not one but two books. She envied him. For that, and a lot of things. His style, his courage, his willingness to follow his guts and jump into what he believed in... but then again, he had nothing to lose. |
| 1905 |
Once committed to the claws of the indeterminate sentence, a man could languish in prison literally for life, and a lot of men did, forgotten, lost, long past rehabilitation or the hope of freedom until they no longer cared when they might be set free. There came a time when it didn't matter anymore. |
| 1906 |
I held up a liquor store with a gun that didn't even shoot, and got away with two cases of bourbon, a case of champagne, and a hundred bucks. I didn't really want the hundred but they handed it to me, so I took it. I just wanted the hooch to have a good time with my buddies. I went home and partied my ass off. |
| 1907 |
It was a warm autumn day with a bright sky overhead, and when she reached the apartment building, she could see sailboats skimming over the lake. The ghostly apartment echoed her footsteps as she ran up the stairs for her suitcase, pulled the dust sheet over the tidily made bed, and pulled down the shade. |
| 1908 |
She made a few notes, and nibbled absently at the steak on her plate. Luke was sitting at a long, flower strewn table at the front of the room, and she had been seated nearby. He looked over at her now and then, with mischievous laughter in the emerald green eyes. Once, silently raising his glass toward her, he winked. |
| 1909 |
He had shared so much of his story with her all morning; he had given her the peek into the inner sanctum that Simpson had prophesied she'd never get. It was a shame she could not reciprocate. Her flight was at three, and she had to leave the luncheon at two. He had just finished speaking when she rose. |
| 1910 |
But it was nearly impossible to get through the crowd near his table, and when she finally did, she found herself standing directly behind him, as he spoke animatedly to someone from his seat. She put a light hand on his shoulder and was surprised when he jumped. He didn't seem the kind of man to be frightened. |
| 1911 |
She sounded nervous, and he assumed that the trip had been hectic. But it had been good for her. There was no doubt about that. She had braved it out, done the interview, and no one had recognized her, thank God. If they had, he'd never have heard the end of it. Now there were any number of interviews she could do. |
| 1912 |
Two of the dullest, richest people in town, and worse luck yet, Hunter was her second cousin. The party was sure to be shitful, but at least the El Morocco was fun. She hadn't been since before the summer. And not only were the dumb bastards getting engaged, but they had decided to have a theme for their party. |
| 1913 |
She laughed aloud as she sank into her bath. She would call him after she dressed, to tell him that she'd meet him in Washington tomorrow. But first she had to dress, and she needed time for a party like the one they were going to. She had long since decided what to wear for their charming soiree in black and white. |
| 1914 |
Even in the papers. He had seen her in the papers before, but now he paid close attention to what he saw. Now that he knew her, it mattered to him. And what an odd life she must lead. He had sensed the turmoil beneath the poise and perfection. The bird in the gilded cage was dying inside, and he knew it. |
| 1915 |
Which made it all the more crazy. When Kezia arrived, she found Luke in an office, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. Phones were ringing, people were shouting, messages were flying, the smoke was thick, and he hardly seemed to know she was there. He waved once and didn't look at her again all afternoon. |
| 1916 |
Lucas did not look much better. He looked tired and he had worn a scowl for most of the afternoon. He had a cigar in one hand, and his hair looked as though he had been running his hands through it for hours. But he had been right. The day had been a total contrast to the two meetings she had seen in Chicago. |
| 1917 |
Impassioned, frenzied, fervent. This was more intense, less polite, and far more real. Luke seemed totally in charge here. He was almost a kind of god. There was a fierceness about him she'd only glimpsed in Chicago. The air was electric with his special kind of energy, and the toughness in him was no longer muted. |
| 1918 |
He didn't want to give her time to back off. But she made no move to retreat. In a sense, he had her cornered, and she knew it. She took the pen and wrote down her number, but not her address. There was no harm in his having the phone number. He pocketed the envelope, paid the check, and helped her on with her jacket. |
| 1919 |
Hard to imagine that he'd been tough or mean, had perhaps stabbed a man in a fight in the yard. She had met a different man. A different Luke. A Luke who haunted her all the way home. He was gone for good, from her now, so she could allow herself the luxury of turning him over in her mind... just for tonight. |
| 1920 |
The flight was too short and she almost hated to get off the plane and fight her way through the terminal to a cab. Even at that hour La Guardia was busy. So busy that she never saw the tall, dark haired man follow her to within yards of the cab. He watched her slide into the taxi from only a few feet away. |
| 1921 |
Not even tailor made ones, just good old regular Levi's, with her silky black hair in two long little girl braids. More than ever, she looked like a very young girl to him. The bar was jammed, the lights were bright, the sawdust was thick on the floor, and the jukebox was blaring. It was his kind of place. |
| 1922 |
They both felt the vibes of the town as they wandered its streets, out of step with its mood, refusing to feel pushed or shoved; they felt oddly at peace. They passed little groups of people, and male streetwalkers carrying pug dogs and French poodles, and wearing tight sweaters and crotch clutching jeans. |
| 1923 |
About the loneliness and the hurt and the ugliness of her world draped in gold brocade, as though they could hide it by making it pretty outside, or make their souls smell better by drenching them in perfume... and the intolerable obligations and responsibilities, and the stupid parties, and the boring men. |
| 1924 |
She was constantly spied on, written about, talked about, followed around. When she went to parties, they reported what she wore. When Daddy was away, and she danced with an old friend at a charity ball, they made a thing of it in the papers. She got to feeling hunted. Americans can be brutal that way. |
| 1925 |
That was the last job anyone knew about, the last glimpse of the real me that the world out there had. From then on it was all underground, with pseudonyms, hiding behind agents, and... well, it's all been just the way it was when I met you. And this is the first time I've taken a chance on being found out. |
| 1926 |
All it would take to blow my whole trip would be one person seeing me at the wrong place at the wrong time, and zap, the whole house of cards would go down. And the truth of it is that the writing part of my life, the serious work, is the only part I respect. I won't jeopardize that for anyone, or anything. |
| 1927 |
I have an army of people waiting in the wings all the time to tell me how terrific I am. Not the parole board, mind you, but people, friends. That makes a big difference, it makes it kind of an ego trip. What you're trying to do is a lot harder. Causes carry a lot of glory, breaking away from home never does. |
| 1928 |
He had only been lying there for about ten minutes, and he was too keyed up to sleep. It felt as though they had talked for days, and he had been so afraid of frightening her away, of doing something to make her close the door again. That was why he was lying on the couch, and had settled for a kiss on the cheek. |
| 1929 |
We did things, we never said things. It got all fucked up when I went to the joint. You have to be able to talk when something like that happens, and she couldn't. She couldn't even talk when our little girl was killed. I think that's what killed her. It all knotted up inside her till she strangled on it and died. |
| 1930 |
Back down Fifth, and up Madison past all the boutiques, and all the way uptown again, where they halted the chauffeur at the Metropolitan Museum and got out and walked in the park. It was six o'clock when they wound up at the Stanhope for drinks, fighting the pigeons for peanuts at the sidewalk cafe. |
| 1931 |
But it didn't look to Kezia as though it had been much of a truce. He let go her hand and put an arm around her shoulders as they walked up the stairs. Two raucous teen age black boys and a Puerto Rican girl came roaring out of the door, laughing and shrieking, the girl running away from the boys, but not very hard. |
| 1932 |
She liked him. He was the sort of person you wanted to hug, and she had only just met him. "Yes, drug and minor criminal histories. The two are almost always related." He came alive as he explained the services the facility offered, showed her charts, graphs, histories, and outlines of future plans. |
| 1933 |
He had known immediately that this was no light hearted fling, no one night stand or casual friend. It was the first time he had seen Luke with a woman. Luke kept his women in bed, and went home when he wanted some more. This one had to be special. She seemed different from the others too. Worlds different. |
| 1934 |
But in his own silence, Luke had the same fears. And those weren't his only fears. He had felt it in his gut. Cop cars were all the same, pale blue, drab green, dark tan, with a tall shuddering antenna on the back He could always feel them, and he had felt this one. And now it was tailing them at a discreet distance. |
| 1935 |
He wondered how they had known he was at Kezia's. It made him wonder if they had followed him that night from Washington, if even on the late night walk to her apartment, he had been tailed. They were doing that more and more lately. It wasn't just near the prisons. It was getting to be everywhere now. |
| 1936 |
Right at the start. "I'll take the next exit, miss, and double back as soon as I can." She sat tensely in the back seat, wondering if they would get there too late. But it was hard to argue with the chauffeur's driving, as he weaved in and out of lanes, passing trucks at terrifying speeds, all but flying. |
| 1937 |
And she glowed as she looked up at him. He knew what she was, and what the papers could do with a kiss like the one they'd just indulged in, in broad daylight, with a sea of people around them. She had come back. Out in the open. And at that moment, he knew what he had hoped, but not quite believed. |
| 1938 |
For the first time in her life, she stayed at the airport, and watched the flight take off. It was a good feeling, watching the thin silver plane rise into the sky. It looked beautiful and she felt brand new. For the first time she could remember, she had taken her fate in her hands and publicly taken her chances. |
| 1939 |
No clandestine nothing. She was a woman. In love with a man. She had finally decided to gamble. The only hitch was that she was a novice, and she was playing with her life, without knowing how high the stakes had been set. She didn't see the plain clothesman stubbing out his cigarette near the gate. |
| 1940 |
Her hair was done in two long looped braids threaded with gold, and her sandals were a dull gold that barely seemed to hang on her feet. She moved freely like a vision, with coral and diamonds brilliant at her ears and throat. But there was something about the way she moved that troubled Whit as he watched her. |
| 1941 |
Tonight she seemed more a woman than ever before. The change would have frightened him, had they not been such old friends. There was a butler waiting for guests in the entrance to the house of Cassie's aunt. Two parking attendants had been on hand to relieve them of Whit's car, had he not brought the limousine. |
| 1942 |
For the rest of the evening, he caught glimpses of her, laughing at the center of a circle of friends, dancing with men he hadn't seen on the circuit in years, whispering into someone's ear, and once or twice he thought he saw her alone on the terrace, looking out over the autumn night on the East River. |
| 1943 |
Of course those things had gone on in his youth too, especially among the prep school boys. But it was never taken as seriously then. It was a stopgap measure, so to speak; no one thought of it as a way of life. Just a passing stage before everyone settled down, found a wife, and got married. But not anymore. |
| 1944 |
He gave her the number of the flight he wanted her on, blew her a kiss and hung up. She slipped happily out of the dress, and stood smiling for a moment before getting ready for bed. What a marvelous man Lucas was. Edward had fled entirely from her mind. As had Whit, whose call was the first she got the next morning. |
| 1945 |
Kezia nodded mutely and gulped her Quenelles Nantua. What was a girl to do? And yes, she understood perfectly, and he was quite right of course, she was light years away from marriage, and possibly because of the death of her parents and being an only child, she'd probably never marry, to preserve her name. |
| 1946 |
She half ran once she got out the door. Mercifully, a cab was cruising down the street. She hailed it and slipped inside, so he couldn't see the tears running down her face. Nor could she see the tears on his. He never saw her again. Only in the papers, now and then. The phone was ringing as she came through the door. |
| 1947 |
He looked around, and it wasn't as bad as he'd thought. The people at the small wooden tables were a healthy mix of midtown Eastsiders. Secretaries, art directors, hippies, pretty girls in blue jeans with portfolios at their sides, boys in flannel shirts and shoulder length hair, and here and there a man in a suit. |
| 1948 |
They just weren't Edward's style. And one never knew what Kezia had up her sleeve. The girl had a fiendish sense of humor. She was sitting at a corner table when he approached, and he could see that she was wearing jeans. He smiled a long smile into her eyes and he leaned down to kiss her when he got to the table. |
| 1949 |
At least it was respectable. But it didn't seem likely. And he was still troubled by the subtle alterations he sensed, but couldn't quite see. He could see that she was thinner, more angular, more intense. And she spoke differently now, as though she had finally taken her place in her beliefs, in her work. |
| 1950 |
She was well ahead in her work, and it was too nice a day to hurry indoors. She took deep breaths and smiled at the pink cheeked children on the street. It was rare to see children look healthy in New York. Either they had the grayish green tinge of deep winter, or the hot pale sweaty look of the blistering summers. |
| 1951 |
Children bounced in the carriage at the pony stand, squealing for another ride. The animals at the zoo bobbed their heads as she walked past, and the carillon began its tune as she approached. She stopped and watched it with all the mothers and children. It was funny. That was something she had never thought of before. |
| 1952 |
It was enough that she had to live with it for all those years. No, no children. Never. The carillon stopped its tune, and the dancing gold animals stopped their mechanical waltz. The children began to drift away or rush toward hovering vendors. She watched them, and suddenly wanted a red balloon for herself. |
| 1953 |
She bought one for a quarter and tied it to the button on her sleeve. It danced in the wind, high above her head, just below the branches of towering trees, and she laughed; she wanted to skip all the way home. Her walk took her past the model boat pond, and at Seventy second Street she reluctantly left the park. |
| 1954 |
And the black women who cared for equally sumptuously outfitted babies did not exist. They were the untouchable caste. Kezia waited for traffic to ebb, and eventually wandered over to Madison to stroll past the boutiques on her way home. She was glad she had walked. Her mind wandered slowly back to Luke. |
| 1955 |
It seemed forever since she had seen him. And she was trying so hard to be good about it. Working hard, being a good sport, laughing with him when he called, but something was curling up tightly inside her. It was like a small, dark kernel of sad, and no matter what she did she couldn't get rid of it. |
| 1956 |
Men checked her out with their eyes, but decided she looked rich and uptight. Women eyed her with envy. The slim hips, the trim shoulders, the thick hair, the big eyes. She was not a woman who would ever go unnoticed, whatever her name, and in spite of her height. It was taking forever to open the doors. |
| 1957 |
Finally, they swung open the doors. The crowd began to move, only imperceptibly at first, and then in a sudden rush, the plane blurted its contents like toothpaste onto the ramp. Kezia pressed through the other travelers, and as she turned a corner, she saw him. His head was well above all the others. |
| 1958 |
His dark hair shone, and she could see his eyes from where she stood. He had a cigar in his hand. His whole being wore an air of expectation. She waved and he saw her, joy sweeping his face, and carefully he eased through the crowd. He was at her side in a moment, and swept her high off the ground in his arms. |
| 1959 |
But at least it was that much. At least they were together again. He plucked her bags from the turntable like a child snatching furniture out of a dollhouse, propped one suitcase under his arm, grasped the other by the handle in the same hand, and kept his other arm around Kezia, squeezing her tight. |
| 1960 |
And they have families, wives and children just like the rest of the world. Those families are on welfare, but they wouldn't have to be if the poor bastards inside could earn a decent wage. Not even a high wage, just a decent one. There's no reason why they shouldn't be able to put some money aside. |
| 1961 |
They need it as much as everyone else. And they work for their bread. They work damn hard. So, we set up work strikes. We design them so that the system we use can be implemented by inmates at any prison. Like this one. Folsom is going to be pulling almost the same thing, with some minor alterations in style. |
| 1962 |
She had a way of seeing things that he had never thought of before. She always had a sense of history, of what had come before and what would come later. It was something to which he'd never given much thought. He lived with his feet firmly planted in now. It was an exchange they gave to each other. |
| 1963 |
It made her laugh as they rolled down the hills. For the first time in her life she felt like a tourist. Usually she moved across a regulated map between familiar houses in cities she had known all her life, from the homes of old friends to the homes of other old friends, wherever she was, the world over. |
| 1964 |
Waves crashing against the cliffs, gulls and hawks soaring high, long expanses of hills, and sudden sweeps of beaches, unpopulated and seeming almost to be touched by the hand of God. Kezia knew what Luke had meant. This was a far cry from the wharf. This was real, and incredibly beautiful, not merely diverting. |
| 1965 |
They had an early dinner in a Chinese restaurant on Grant Avenue, and Kezia was in high spirits. They were seated in a little booth with a curtain drawn over the doorway and you could hear giggles and murmurs in other booths, and beyond, the clatter of dishes and the tinkling sound of Chinese spoken by the waiters. |
| 1966 |
He had been there the night before she arrived, to tie up the loose ends about the strike at San Quentin. It was an odd thing, talking about dead men and inmates over fried wonton. It seemed immoral somehow, when he gave it much thought, but mostly he didn't. They had learned to accept what they lived with. |
| 1967 |
Falkes had come out from New Hampshire, but Washington was local and the only black in the group. All radicals of a kind, but none of them heavy left wingers. They just wanted to fight for their ideals, and change a system that should have died years ago. None of them had wild illusions about changing the world. |
| 1968 |
And Luke was going to see that it stayed that way. But the next morning over breakfast there was no mistaking that something was very wrong. She had awakened him this time, after ordering a sumptuous breakfast for them to share. She shook him gently with a kiss after the tray had been delivered to the room. |
| 1969 |
The killing was thought to have been done by a radical left wing group, but the police were not yet sure. Joseph Morrissey had been shot eight times in the head while leaving his house with his wife. The photographs on the front page showed a hysterical woman leaning over the shapeless form of the victim. |
| 1970 |
It takes everything out of you, and doesn't put anything back. It's pretense and games, and people cheating on each other, and lying, and thinking of how many thousands of dollars to spend on a dress, when they could be putting it into something like this. It just doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense to me. |
| 1971 |
They fuck their children. They beat their mothers and their wives. They get frustrated and angry. They don't have time to learn the things you know. Maybe you should just take that knowledge and use it well. Don't waste your time feeling bitter or sad for the years before this. Just use it well now. |
| 1972 |
They had fallen into the easy banter and jovial insults of friends, and she was glad. He was a very appealing man. Deeply sensitive, and at the same time fun. Above all, what struck her again about him was his kindness. And he was right about her too. Her past was a part of her life. The grandeur, the money. |
| 1973 |
The weight of Martin Hallam had finally slipped from her shoulders. Kezia grabbed an old sheepskin jacket from her closet and slipped tall black custom made boots under her carefully pressed jeans. She dug a small knitted red cap from the pocket of her jacket, and took a pair of gloves from a shelf. |
| 1974 |
She thought about buying a picnic to eat in the park, but decided not to bother. Instead, she bought a small bag of hot roasted chestnuts from an old gnarled man pushing a steaming cart along Fifth Avenue. He grinned at her toothlessly and she waved at him over her shoulder as she walked away. He was sweet really. |
| 1975 |
Everyone was. Everyone suddenly looked as new as she felt. She was well into the park and halfway through the chestnuts when she looked ahead and saw the woman trip and fall on the curb. She had spun out into the street close to the clomping feet of an aging horse pulling a shabby hansom carriage through the park. |
| 1976 |
The apartment was empty; Luke was out, and the cleaning woman wasn't due. Kezia was grateful for the solitude as she led her friend into the bedroom. She didn't want to explain Luke, even in Tiffany's current state. She had taken a hell of a chance bringing her there, but she couldn't think of anyplace else. |
| 1977 |
Tiffany shook her head and brought her gaze back from the window with a small, gentle smile, and quietly shook her head. "No. I have to go alone." She walked out of the bedroom, through the living room, and stopped at the front door, looking back at Kezia hovering uncertainly in the bedroom doorway. |
| 1978 |
The door closed softly behind her, and a moment later Kezia heard the elevator take her away. She knew she had no money to go home with, but she knew that Tiffany's doorman would pay for the cab. The very rich can travel almost anywhere empty handed. Everyone knows them. Doormen are delighted to pay for their cabs. |
| 1979 |
They double their money in tips. Kezia knew Tiffany was safe. And at least she was out of her house. There was a heavy scent left hanging in the air, a smell of perfume mixed with perspiration and vomit. Kezia stood at the window for a long time, thinking of her friend, and her mother, loving and hating them both. |
| 1980 |
The excitement and the freedom of the morning, of ditching that damn column, was tarnished by the agony of seeing Tiffany sprawled in the street at the feet of that horse, shouted at by the hansom cab driver, puking and crying and wandering lost and confused... and screwed over by her mother in law. |
| 1981 |
And it probably wouldn't take much talking. It made Kezia's stomach turn over again and again, and when at last she lay down for a nap she slept badly, but at least when she awoke, things looked better again. Much better. She looked up to see Luke standing at the foot of the bed. She glanced at the clock by her bed. |
| 1982 |
Whit was standing three pews ahead. He looked thinner, and suddenly more openly effeminate in an over tailored Cardin suit that clutched at his waist, and seemed to hang too closely across his back. She suspected the suit had been a gift from his friend. It was not the sort of thing Whit would have bought for himself. |
| 1983 |
And she was simply Kezia Saint Martin, mourning her friend. The tears ran freely down her face as they carried the casket down the aisle, to the maroon limousine that waited outside. Two policemen had been detailed to redirect traffic around the long snaking line of limousines, not a single one of which was rented. |
| 1984 |
Kezia found herself staring blankly at the backs of people's heads and felt Edward guiding her slowly out of the pew. It was a long wait at the line where she shook hands with assorted relatives. Bill looked officious and solemn, dispensing small smiles and understanding nods like an undertaker instead of a husband. |
| 1985 |
A few years ago, you couldn't have an attorney at hearings to revoke your parole. Just you and the board. So, cheer up, things could have been worse. We have a good lawyer, we have each other. And they can't object to our life style, it's as clean as they come. We'll just have to do what you do with these things. |
| 1986 |
This was not at all what he'd planned. But what could he expect? He should have known this from the beginning. He had led her gently away from her home, into his, and now he was sitting there telling her that their house might burn down. The look in her eyes made her an orphan again. And her pain was his doing. |
| 1987 |
The revocation hung over their heads, but they had fought hard to ignore it. They rarely discussed it, except once in a while, late at night. They had six weeks till the hearing, and Kezia was determined not to let the threat of it ruin their life. She fought for gaiety with an almost unbearable determination. |
| 1988 |
He didn't stop her. He couldn't. He merely watched her retreat toward the door and clenched his hands very tightly for a moment before signaling for the check. In the bitter cold of the winter afternoon, she rode the subway to Harlem. Alejandro was the only one who could help. She was beginning to panic. |
| 1989 |
An oom pah pah band was doing its best, and outside, Christmas lights were already blinking hopefully. They said nothing of the revocation, but talked of other times. Christmas, California, his family, her father. It was funny; she had thought about her father a lot lately, and wanted to share it with someone. |
| 1990 |
Lucas had the look of a small boy. Or the look of a man with a secret. She grinned to herself, wondering if it was something to do with her. Maybe a present, something silly, an outing, a dinner. Luke was like that. She wouldn't allow herself to wonder if it was something to do with the hearing. It couldn't be. |
| 1991 |
The two men exchanged a long look over her head and Luke nodded slowly. It had been quite a day. And they were both wondering if it was going to be like this all the way till the hearing. It could have been a cop for all they knew, and they both realized it, even though they didn't tell that to Kezia. |
| 1992 |
Kezia... At last he fell asleep in her arms as they sat there, and when Kezia slid him down onto the pillow and turned off the light, she suddenly remembered Alejandro sitting in the chair. She turned to find him, but he was long since gone, with heartaches of his own, and no Kezia whose arms he could cry in. |
| 1993 |
He had no right to do this to her, jeopardize his own life and hers with it. If this trip cost him his freedom, or his life, what did he think it would do to her, or didn't he think? The bastard... Kezia followed him into the bedroom and stood looking at him as he pulled a suitcase out of his closet. |
| 1994 |
She had toyed with the idea of flying out to California to surprise him, but she knew she wouldn't have been welcome. When he was involved in his work, that was it. He wouldn't have been amused or pleased by the gesture, and he probably wouldn't have been able to spend any time with her anyway. So she was alone. |
| 1995 |
Everyone was bound to be somewhere, and she was actually alone. She and an army of doormen and maintenance men, each of whom had received his Christmas dues. The superintendent discreetly left a mimeographed sheet in the mail around the fifteenth of December. Twenty two names, all waiting for bribes. |
| 1996 |
It was cold out, very cold, the way only New York and a few other cities can be. The kind of chill that makes you feel as though you've been slapped when you walk out the door. The freezing winds swept your legs and brushed your cheeks like steel wool, and the ice on the windowsill was frozen in patterns of lace. |
| 1997 |
The finished product looked liked something in a Renaissance painting. The thick pine branch was covered with a neat circle of fruit, the nuts scattered here and there, the whole thing held together with an invisible network of fine wire. It was a handsome ornament, and Alejandro loved the look on her face. |
| 1998 |
She told the answering service when they'd be back, in case Lucas called, and together they braved the biting night air. There was no wind, only a bitter frost which seared the lungs and eyes. They stopped for hamburgers and hot tea, and she laughed as he told her of the chaos of Christmas in a Mexican home. |
| 1999 |
Saint Patrick's was jammed, hot, and smelled strongly of incense. They wedged their bodies in way at the back of the church; they could not approach the front pews, short of standing on shoulders and walking on heads. People had come from miles. Midnight mass at Saint Patrick's was a tradition for many. |
| 2000 |
Totie had aged. Hadn't they all? And the exchange of gifts had all been so meaningless this year, by mail, via stores, to people she owed by ritual and tradition, not really by heart. She was glad she and Alejandro had not tried to drum up gifts for each other that night. They had given each other something far better. |
| 2001 |
He marched right over the suitcase, the clothes, the cigars, kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot, and made his presence rapidly and amply known. Lucas was very much home. He had brought her a turquoise Navajo bracelet of elaborate and intricate beauty, and he laughed at the Christmas presents she gave him. |
| 2002 |
He only looked up at her and nodded, his eyes quiet and grave. She kissed him gently, and the way their lips met told them both what they already knew, how much he loved her, and she him. He was back at the phone in an hour, bourbon in hand. And half an hour later he announced that he had to go out. |
| 2003 |
Time to walk in the park, and talk, to lie in bed at night and think aloud, time to smile at the fire, and giggle over popcorn. It wasn't going to be like that at all. It already wasn't. The hearing was less than a week away now, and at his insistence, she was sticking close to home. He had been adamant about that. |
| 2004 |
There would be Luke coming and going, looking ravaged, up at dawn, drunk by noon, and sober again and spent by the end of the evening. And nightmares when he finally allowed himself a few hours of sleep. A canyon had opened between them, a space around him which she couldn't even begin to approach. He wouldn't let her. |
| 2005 |
The words meant "Nobility obliges"; she'd grown up with it all of her life. The obligation to keep your chin up, no matter who sawed off your legs at the knee; the ability to serve tea with the roof coming down around your ears; the charm of developing an ulcer while wearing a smile. Noblesse oblige. |
| 2006 |
In four months he had developed a fondness for much of her way of life, while still keeping his own view and perspective. Together they filtered out the best of both worlds and made it their own. Mostly, the "posh" things amused him, but there were certain things he truly liked. Caviar was one of them. |
| 2007 |
It was like leaving on a vacation. And he had promised her that he would be all hers the next day. No appointments, no meetings, no friends. They would have the day to themselves. She had taken reservations at the Fairmont, just for the hell of it; a suite in the tower, for a hundred and eighty six dollars a day. |
| 2008 |
They had made matters worse with a third bottle of champagne after dinner. It had been a night for lengthy celebration. Their engagement. It was more than a little mad. He knew only too well that by the following day he could be in jail, which was why he hadn't jumped at the thought of Reno or Vegas. |
| 2009 |
The suite at the Fairmont, the first class seats on the trip out, the limousine, the elaborate room service meals, and now yet another car, for his pleasure. She wanted it all to be special. She wanted to soften the blow of the hearing, or at least provide some diversion from the reason they were there. |
| 2010 |
There was a brisk breeze but the air was warm, and everything around them was green, a far cry from the barren landscape they'd left. They drove all afternoon, stopped here and there at a beach, walked to the edge of the cliffs, sat on rocks and talked, but neither spoke of what weighed on their hearts. |
| 2011 |
The banter in the car on the way into the city was light and easy, bad jokes, silly memories, Alejandro's account of his trip, complete with a woman in labor and another woman who had smuggled her French poodle aboard under her coat and then threatened hysterics when the stewardess tried to take the dog away. |
| 2012 |
That's when things started to go sour. The attorney gave a terse little laugh that set Kezia's nerves on edge. She was suspicious of him anyway. He was renowned for his skill at hearings like Luke's, for which he charged five thousand dollars. Lucas had insisted on paying it himself with his savings. |
| 2013 |
No one could read their minds. Lucas was in danger of being revoked for instigating "unrest" in the prisons, agitating, and basically meddling in what the parole board and prison authorities felt was no longer his business. They had the right to revoke him for less, and there was no denying Luke's agitating. |
| 2014 |
Everyone knew of it, even the press. He had been less than discreet in the years he'd been out. His speeches, his book, his meetings, his role in the moratorium against prisons, his hand in prison labor strikes across the country. He had gambled his life on his beliefs, and now they'd have to see what the price was. |
| 2015 |
Why couldn't they just eat hot dogs, or have a picnic, or go on living after today? Kezia felt a weight settle over her like a parachute dipped in cement. She wanted to go back to the hotel to lie down, to relax, to cry, to do something, anything but sit in this restaurant eating a dessert she couldn't even taste. |
| 2016 |
So that was it. Lucas was going to make news. Either way. They detoured the reporters unnoticed, and slipped into the law library to wait. The attorney joined them after a few minutes, a thick file in his hand, a tense look on his face. But something about his demeanor impressed Kezia more than it had at the hotel. |
| 2017 |
It was the longest half hour of her life. Her mind seemed to doze like the sun on the floor. The chair was uncomfortable but she didn't feel it. She didn't think, didn't feel, didn't see, didn't hear. Not even the footsteps that finally came. She was numb. She saw his feet pointing at hers before she saw his face. |
| 2018 |
She stood for a moment in the hall, and then as though in a distant vision far off down the hall she saw him go, a guard on either side, his hands shackled in front of him. He never looked back and it seemed as though, long after he was gone, she felt her mouth open, and a long piercing sound filled the air. |
| 2019 |
But the sound wouldn't end and someone's arms were holding her tight, as flashbulbs began to explode in her face and strange voices assailed her. And then suddenly she was flying over the city in a glass cage, and after that she was led into a strange room and someone put her to bed and she felt very cold. |
| 2020 |
He'd seen the news in New York. He was half out of his mind. When she came back, she sat on the edge of the bed and lit a cigarette from his pack. She looked tired, haggard, and pale. The tan seemed to have instantly faded, and dark rims framed her eyes all the way around, like purple eye shadow gone wild. |
| 2021 |
Apparently, he had. There were no calls for them at the Ritz. Kezia sat lost in her own thoughts, rarely speaking. She was thinking of Luke, and how he had looked when they led him away... and before that, how he had looked in the law library. He had been a free man then, for those last precious moments. |
| 2022 |
What he had sought most to prevent had finally come. Edward, sitting in his office, knew it too. He walked solemnly to the door, locked it carefully, walked back to his desk, and flicked the switch on his intercom, informing his secretary in the driest of tones that he did not want to be disturbed until further notice. |
| 2023 |
He smoothed the covers around her, and touched her cheek ever so gently. She looked young again as she slept; the anger had left her thin face. The bitterness of what can happen to a life out in the big, bad, ugly world had come as a shock to her. She was learning the hard way, with her heart, and her guts. |
| 2024 |
The truck stop was full but not crowded, the room was warm, and the jukebox was already alive. The aroma of coffee mingled with the odor of tired men, cigarette smoke and cigars. She was the only woman in the place, but invited only a few uninterested glances. Alejandro made her order breakfast, and she made a face. |
| 2025 |
Outside, a pair of sentries from the Examiner scouted her arrival. Another pair were pacing at the building's rear entrance. Kezia had a nose for them, like Luke did for police. She clung tightly to Alejandro's arm while looking as though she barely held it, and quietly pulled her dark glasses over her eyes. |
| 2026 |
The stairs were crowded but there were no reporters in sight. They moved inside, to a neon lit room which boasted another desk, two guards, and three rows of benches. Beyond it they could see a long hall lined with windows, along which ran a shelf with a telephone every few feet, and a stool to sit on as you visited. |
| 2027 |
It was awkward and uncomfortable. Group I was in the midst of its visit, destined to last five minutes or twenty, depending on the mood of the guards. Faces were animated, women giggled and then cried, inmates looked urgent and determined and then let their faces relax at the sight of a threer year old son. |
| 2028 |
Alejandro felt a wave of claustrophobia engulf him. How did she stand it? The other visitors looked astonished and some backed away while others pressed forward to see what was happening. Suddenly, there was chaos, with Kezia in the eye of the storm, dark glasses in place, mouth set, looking stern but unshakably calm. |
| 2029 |
The press would have to wait outside, they were disrupting the visiting. Even the inmates having visits had stopped talking and were watching the group around Kezia and the flashes of light that went off every few seconds. A guard called her aside to the desk, as the photographers and reporters reluctantly exited. |
| 2030 |
He felt lost in the stir. He had never even thought of dealing with something like that, but she handled it well. That surprised him. There had been no trace of panic, but then again it wasn't new to her either. The head guard leaned close to them and made a suggestion. A guard could accompany them when they left. |
| 2031 |
They could take an elevator straight into the police garage in the basement, where a cab could be waiting. Alejandro leapt at the idea, and Kezia gratefully agreed. She was even paler than she had been, and the tremor in her hands was now a steady fluttering. The paparazzi attack had taken its toll. |
| 2032 |
The curious crowd was becoming almost as oppressive as the press. But her request was denied. Nevertheless, a young guard was assigned to hover nearby. A voice called out the end of the first visit, and guards ushered Group I into a cage where they could wait for the elevator without disturbing the next group. |
| 2033 |
The pink slip of paper in her hand was crumpled and limp, but they checked it for the number of the window where they'd visit Luke. There would be other visitors at close range on either side, but the promised guard was standing beside them. It seemed like a very long wait. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen. |
| 2034 |
Luke was fifth on the line. Alejandro took one look at his face and knew he was all right, and then he watched Kezia. Unconsciously, she got to her feet as she saw him, stood very straight, to her full tiny height, a blistering smile on her face. Her eyes came alive. She looked incredibly beautiful. |
| 2035 |
He had known what the chances were, better than she had. The rest of their visit was spent on banalities, jokes, teasing, sarcastic descriptions of the food, but he looked surprisingly well. The grimness was not unfamiliar to him. He spoke to Alejandro for a few minutes, and then pointed back at Kezia. |
| 2036 |
Her eyes never left him as he walked back through the door, and this time he looked back, with a jaunty grin and a wave. She answered with a wave and her most valiant smile. And then he was gone. The guard who had stood behind them now took them aside and showed them the way to the separate elevator. |
| 2037 |
He watched her as she leaned her back against a chair, warming her feet by the fire. There was a smile on her lips. But the spark had gone dead in her eyes. Daily, she was looking worse. She had lost a lot of weight, she was deathly pale, and her hands still shook almost constantly. Not a lot, but enough. |
| 2038 |
I start to work, and then my mind wanders and I look up and it's two hours later and I haven't finished the sentence I was typing. It's crazy. I feel like one of those little old ladies who burrow into their houses, and someone has to keep reminding them to put the other stocking on, and to finish their soup. |
| 2039 |
She had that quality about her; it had something to do with her size and her seeming fragility. They left after their third round of scotch, on equally empty stomachs, both high as kites. "You know what's funny?" She was laughing so hard she could barely stand up, but the cold air had sobered them both a little. |
| 2040 |
Edward slid onto the banquette beside her. It was their first lunch in almost two months. And now she looked so different it shocked him. Her eyes were sunken into her head, her skin looked taut on her cheekbones, and there was not even luster where once there had been fire. What a price she had paid. |
| 2041 |
Perhaps she had, though... perhaps she had. And in any case, her little misadventure had certainly aged her. She looked five years more than her age, particularly in a simple lilac wool dress and her grandmother's remarkable pearls. And then he noticed the ring. He glanced at it and nodded approval. |
| 2042 |
The fun was over. And she felt oddly submissive at his side. He cast a few frosty smiles left and right as they made their way out. He didn't want anyone to think there was trouble, and Kezia looked dreadful. They stood for a moment at the cloakroom while he waited for the girl to retrieve his coat and homburg. |
| 2043 |
But at least they had to keep their distance. The women on the committee didn't, and they'd be all over her in an instant, with snide questions and sneering asides. And of course they had all seen the newspaper photographs of her collapsing in court, and read every word of the story. It was simply too much to handle. |
| 2044 |
The snow crunched beneath her feet as she walked to the corner to hail another cab and go home. She wanted to flee. She had unthinkingly walked back into the insanity of her life before Luke. And even for a day it unnerved her. From cab to cab, from luncheon to meeting to nowhere to nothing to drink to drank to drunk. |
| 2045 |
She trudged all the way home, her suede shoes soaking wet on her feet, her hair damp, and when she got home her cheeks were aflame and her legs felt icy and numb, but she felt alive and sober again. She had pulled her hair from its knot and let it fall around her shoulders, gathering a mantilla of snow. |
| 2046 |
Nothing did. Except Luke. But at least the buzzing sound had left her head, her shoulders didn't feel quite so heavy, her spirit felt clean. Even the drinks had been washed away by the cold and the snow. The doorbell rang just as she peeled off her stockings and stuck her cold feet under the hot water tap in the tub. |
| 2047 |
Between his dismal failure at not looking disapproving, and the stares of the rest of the people there, not to mention a Women's Wear reporter creeping up on us... I got a bad case of the freaks. And then to make matters worse, I took myself off to a benefit meeting, and flaked out before I walked in the door. |
| 2048 |
It was built like a dungeon, and was the color of rancid mustard. It was not only fearsome, but it reeked of anger and terror, loneliness, sorrow, loss. Tall metal fences topped with barbed wire surrounded the encampment, and in all possible directions stood gun towers manned by machine gun toting guards. |
| 2049 |
Who could possibly get free of that place? Yet now and then people did. And seeing the place made her suddenly know why they'd try anything, even death, to escape. It made her understand why Luke had done what he had to help the men he called his brothers. Prisoners of places like that had to be remembered by someone. |
| 2050 |
She also saw a row of tidy houses with flowers beds out front. The houses stood inside the barbed wire fences, in the shadow of the gun towers, at the feet of the prison. And she guessed, accurately, that they were the houses of guards, living there with their wives and their children. The thought made her shudder. |
| 2051 |
There were only two parking spaces left when they got there, and a long line of people snaked past the guardhouse at the main gate. It took them two and a half hours to reach the head of the line, where they were superficially searched and then herded on to the next gate, to have their pockets ransacked again. |
| 2052 |
There were no sounds of laughter in that room, no whispered snatches of conversation, only the occasional clinking of coins in the coffee machine, the whoosh of the water fountain or the brief spurt of a match. Each visitor hugged to himself his own fears and lonely thoughts. Kezia's mind was filled with Luke. |
| 2053 |
Another two hours on those benches... and it had been so long since she'd seen him, touched his hand, his face, kissed him, held him, or been held the way only Luke knew how to hold her. Kisses are different when they come from such a great height, or that's how it had seemed. Everything was different. |
| 2054 |
He stood in a long, barren gray room, whose only decor was a clock. There were long refectory tables with inmates on one side and visitors on the other, while guards wandered and patrolled, their guns displayed prominently. One could kiss hello and goodbye, and hold hands during the visit That was all. |
| 2055 |
He didn't belong here. It didn't make sense. The other faces around them looked ragged and fierce, angry and tired and worn. But now so did Luke. Something had changed. As she walked into his arms, she felt a wave of claustrophobic terror seize her throat... they were lost in the bowels of that tomb. |
| 2056 |
She was oblivious of all but his eyes. She completely forgot Alejandro beside her. Luke swept her up in his arms and the force of his embrace flushed the air from her chest in one breath. He held her aloft for a moment, not releasing his grip, and then gently set her down, hungrily seeking her lips once again. |
| 2057 |
There was a quiet desperation about him, and his arms felt thinner. She had felt bones in his shoulders where weeks before there had been so much flesh. He was wearing blue jeans and a workshirt, and coarse shoes that looked too small for his feet. They had shipped the Guccis and everything else back to New York. |
| 2058 |
Only Alejandro had tears in his eyes as he watched them, a radiant smile sweeping over her face, hiding the panic, and a look of intense need in the eyes of his friend. After a moment, Luke's gaze swept over her head, and acknowledged Alejandro. It was a look of gratitude Alejandro didn't remember seeing before. |
| 2059 |
Luke seemed to have a passionate and hungry need for Kezia, which was amply mutual. Yet, there was a rein on him somewhere. She sensed it, and didn't know what it was. A hesitation, a withdrawal, and then he would say something and she would feel the floodgates open again. Suddenly the hour was over. |
| 2060 |
And this is no life for you. Baby, you've learned a lot in the last few months, and done a lot of things you'd never have done if you hadn't met me. Some of it was good for you, but this isn't. I know what this does, what it'll do to you. By the time I get out, you'd be burnt out. Look at you now, thin, nervous. |
| 2061 |
The short nod at the end said it all. He was committing her into his care. He would know that she was safe and that was all he could do. It was all he had left to give. Kezia stood in the visiting area, numb, unaware of the eyes that turned toward her. It had been an agonizing scene for the few who had overhead it. |
| 2062 |
This time he knew there was no point in asking how she was. It was easily seen. He walked her out of the building and to the main gate as rapidly as he could. He wanted to get her the hell out of there before she fell apart. He guided her quickly around the potholes in the parking lot and eased her into the car. |
| 2063 |
And he knew what a bitching tough thing it had been to do. Lucas needed her there, her visits, her love, her support. But he knew what it would do to her too. She would have hung on for years, destroying herself, maybe even drinking herself to death while she waited. It couldn't have gone on, and Luke knew it. |
| 2064 |
Six months could change a lot in a life. Six months before, Kezia had met Luke. She was no longer crying as they drove away. She merely sat very still in the car, and then in the hotel room, where he left her under the careful guard of a maid, while he attended to the interview he could no longer keep his mind on. |
| 2065 |
With misgivings, he made plane reservations for six o'clock that night and prayed she wouldn't come out of shock until he got her home to her own bed. She was like a child in a trance, and one thing was for sure, he didn't want to be in San Francisco with her when she came out of it. He had to get her back to New York. |
| 2066 |
She ate nothing on the tray the stewardess put before her, and nodded uncomprehendingly when Alejandro offered her the earphones for music. He settled them on her head, and then watched her remove them dreamily five minutes later. She sang to herself for a little while, and then lapsed back into silence. |
| 2067 |
The stewardesses eyed her strangely, and Alejandro would nod with a smile, hoping no one would make any comments, and praying that no one would recognize her. She looked sufficiently vague and disheveled by then to be less readily recognized. He could barely handle her as it was, without worrying about the press. |
| 2068 |
I woke up at four this morning, and I've been thinking everything over for the last two hours. I understand what happened, and now I have to learn to live with it. And the time to do that is right now. You can't sit here and treat me like an invalid, love, that's not right. You have better things to do with your life. |
| 2069 |
She was drunk day and night for five weeks. Even the cleaning woman stopped coming, and she had sent her secretary away the first week. She was alone with her empty bottles, and plates caked with half eaten food, wearing the same filthy robe. Only the delivery boy from the liquor store was a regular "visitor" anymore. |
| 2070 |
She was tear stained, reeling, and drunk. But she still didn't know. He sobered her up long enough to tell her. As best he could. But after her fourth cup of coffee, and opening the windows for air, the headlines did it for him, as her eyes scanned the type. She looked up into his face, and he knew that she understood. |
| 2071 |
She was right, he had walked tall and proud, and she had been so sure, so powerful beside him. They had had something he'd never seen before. And now, one was dead, and the other was dying. It made him feel sick. It was all like living a nightmare; his best friend was dead and he was in love with Luke's woman. |
| 2072 |
The papers said she was planning to go skiing, but it didn't say where, and her hat was pulled so low over her face that Alejandro would never have known her if he hadn't seen the name. As he looked at the picture, he marveled again at the absence of reporters on their last trip to San Francisco and back. |
| 2073 |
When would he hear from her again? He still remembered the kiss of the last morning he'd seen her, only a few days ago. And now she was gone. He felt heavy, as though he were nailed to the chair, glued to the floor, part of the building and crumbling like the rest of it. Everything was going to pot in his life. |
| 2074 |
She stayed in a huge hotel that was mostly uninhabited, and took tea with seven old ladies to the sound of violins and a cello. She went for long walks, drank a lot of hot chocolate, went to bed early, and read. Only Simpson and Edward knew where she was, and she had told them both to leave her alone. |
| 2075 |
She mingled with the early spring tourists, toured the museums, wandered in and out of shops, walked along the Arno, and tried not to think. She did the same in Rome, and by then it was easier. It was May. The sun was warm, the people were lively, the street musicians were funny, and she ran into a few friends. |
| 2076 |
He was walking down a street in Chicago, wearing a white turtleneck sweater, his dark hair blown by the wind, his raincoat slung over his shoulder. One eyebrow raised, he was looking sarcastically into the camera with the beginnings of a smile. She had squeezed the photograph out of him the first time she had seen it. |
| 2077 |
Fresh tears ran down her face as she read it, but they were not tears of grief. Tears of tenderness, of gratitude, of laughter, of loving. Those were the treasures he had given her, not sorrow. Luke had never been a man to tolerate sorrow. He had been too alive to taste even a whisper of death. And sorrow is death. |
| 2078 |
He had missed her very badly, but the time had done him good as well. He had realized at last what she represented in his life, and what she could never be. He too had made peace with himself and the people he dreamed of, as much as he ever would. Most of all he had accepted what seemed to be his role. |
| 2079 |
As life's trains passed him by. The last lonely gentleman standing on the platform. Kezia was almost sorry to leave Marbella, for the first time in her life. She had come to terms with a thousand ghosts in the months she'd spent alone, not only Luke's ghost, but others. She was even free of the ghost of her mother. |
| 2080 |
He was the part she had saved for the present. And the present looked and felt splendid. She was unfettered now, unbound and happy and free. She tingled with the excitement of all that lay ahead... people, places, things to do, books to write, her old conquered world at her feet, and now new worlds to conquer. |
| 2081 |
He had served the minimum amount of time of his sentence, which was nonetheless a big hunk of time for a first offense. He had been caught with an extraordinary amount of cocaine, prosecuted by the state, convicted in a jury trial, and sentenced to state prison at Pelican Bay. At first, he had only sold to friends. |
| 2082 |
His employer had decided not to press charges, once he got arrested for dealing cocaine. What was the point? He didn't have the money anyway, whatever he had taken, and it was in fact a relatively small amount in the scheme of things, and the money was long gone. There was no way he could recoup the funds. |
| 2083 |
More than Peter, his friends and business associates felt sorry for his wife and kids, who became the victims of his crazy schemes and rotten judgment. But everyone who knew him would have said that at the core, Peter Morgan was a nice guy. It was hard to say what had gone wrong. In truth, a lot had, for a long time. |
| 2084 |
The family appeared wholesome, and moneyed certainly, although his mother's drinking increased steadily over time, and wound her up in an institution eventually, leaving Peter and his two full siblings technically orphaned. His stepfather had never legally adopted them, and remarried a year after Peter's mother died. |
| 2085 |
It was all he had, and worked well for him. The only love and nurturing he got in those years were from friends' parents. There were often little incidents, when he stayed with friends during school holidays. Money disappeared, tennis rackets vanished mysteriously, and seemed to be missing when he left. |
| 2086 |
Once a gold watch seemed to evaporate into thin air, and a sobbing maid was fired as a result. As it so happened, it was later discovered, Peter had been sleeping with her. He was sixteen at the time, and the proceeds from the watch that he had talked her into pilfering for him had kept him going for six months. |
| 2087 |
And the veneer was incredibly appealing. It was hard to know who Peter really was beneath the surface. Above all, he was a survivor. He was a charming, bright, good looking kid, who had had a bunch of rotten breaks in his life. He had no one to rely on but himself, and deep at his core, he had been wounded. |
| 2088 |
He rarely talked about the experiences he'd had, or the sorrows that had resulted from them, and on the whole, he appeared to be a levelheaded, optimistic, good natured guy, who could charm just about anyone, and often did. But life had been far from easy for him, although to look at him, you'd never know it. |
| 2089 |
There was no visible evidence of the agonies he'd been through. The scars were far deeper and well hidden. Women fell into his hands like fruit off trees, and men found him good company. He drank a lot in college, friends remembered later on, but he never seemed out of control, and wasn't. Not obviously at least. |
| 2090 |
And whatever luck there was, you made yourself. At twenty nine, he married Janet, a dazzling debutante, who happened to be the daughter of the head of the firm where he worked, and within two years, they had two adorable little girls. It was the perfect life, he loved his wife and was crazy about his kids. |
| 2091 |
It looked like a long stretch of smooth road ahead of him finally, when for no reason anyone could fathom, things started to go wrong again. All he talked about was making a lot of money, and seemed obsessed with that idea, whatever it took. Some thought he was having too much fun. It was all too easy for him. |
| 2092 |
Peter and his father in law had several serious talks, while walking the grounds of his parents in law's estate in Connecticut, and Janet's father thought he had made the point. To put it simply, he had tried to point out to Peter that there was no such thing as a free lunch or an express train to success. |
| 2093 |
It was then that her father discovered the debts he'd incurred, the money he'd "discreetly" embezzled from the firm, and given their relationship with him, and the potential embarrassment to them, and Janet, they covered his debts. He agreed to give Janet full custody of the girls, who were by then two and three. |
| 2094 |
He had borrowed massive amounts of money to support his drug habit, and lost what money he had on high risk investments in the commodities market. After that, no matter how good his credentials, or how smart he was, he couldn't get a job. And just as his mother had before she died, he spiraled down. |
| 2095 |
He was thirty five years old, and had half the world after him for bad debts, when he was arrested for possession of a massive amount of cocaine with intent to sell. He had been making a fortune at it, but owed five times as much when he was arrested, and had some frightening debts to some very dangerous people. |
| 2096 |
As people who knew him said when they heard, he had had everything going for him, and managed to blow all of it to kingdom come. He was in debt for a fortune, in danger of being killed by the dealers who sold to him, and the people behind the scenes who financed them, when he was arrested. He had paid no one back. |
| 2097 |
Peter hoped that would be the case. When Peter Morgan went to prison, he hadn't seen his children in two years, and wasn't likely to again. He sat stone faced through his trial, and sounded intelligent and remorseful when he took the stand. His lawyer tried to get him probation, but the judge was smarter than that. |
| 2098 |
He had read Peter well, and saw that there was something disturbing about him. His appearance and his actions didn't seem to fit. The judge didn't buy the pat phrases of remorse that Peter parroted. He seemed smooth, but not sincere. He was likable certainly, but the choices he'd made were appalling. |
| 2099 |
And everyone believed him. He was released at the first legal opportunity. He had to stay in northern California for a year, and they had assigned him to a parole agent in San Francisco. He was planning to live in a halfway house until he found work, and he had told the parole board he wasn't proud. |
| 2100 |
With a little bit of luck, his well wishers, which even included the warden, hoped that he would find the right niche for him, and build a good life. He had everything it took to do that. All he needed now was a chance. And they all hoped he'd get one when he got out. People always liked Peter and wished him well. |
| 2101 |
He had a nice way with people, both young and old. And had even inspired one of them to apply for a scholarship to Harvard. The boy had just been accepted that spring. The warden felt as though he owed Peter something, and Peter genuinely liked him and his family, and was grateful for the kindness they'd shown him. |
| 2102 |
Isabelle and Heather were now respectively eight and nine, although in his mind's eye they were still considerably younger. Janet had long since forbidden him to have contact with them, and her parents endorsed her position. Peter's stepfather, who had paid for his education years before, had long since died. |
| 2103 |
The money he had wouldn't go far, he hadn't had a decent haircut in four years, and the only things he had left in the world were a handful of contacts in the high tech and venture capital worlds in Silicon Valley, and the names of the drug dealers he had once done business with, and fully intended to steer clear of. |
| 2104 |
But he was healthy, strong, drug free, intelligent, and still incredibly good looking. Something good was going to happen to him eventually. Of that much, he was certain, and so was the warden. "Call us," the warden said again. It was the first time he had gotten that attached to a convict who worked for him. |
| 2105 |
And the warden had spotted instantly that Peter didn't belong there. Only the vast quantities of drugs he'd been dealing, and the money involved, had wound him up in a maximum security prison. Had the charges been less serious, he could just as easily have been incarcerated in a minimum security facility. |
| 2106 |
The few men he chatted with over the years respected him, and he steered a wide berth of potential problems. His close relationship to the warden made him sacrosanct and gave him safe passage. He had no known associations with gangs, groups known for violence, or dissident elements. He minded his own business. |
| 2107 |
The warden himself had written a glowing reference for him to the parole board. His was a case of a young man who had taken a wrong turn, and all he needed was a chance now to take the right one. And the warden was certain he would do that. He looked forward to hearing good things from and about Peter in future. |
| 2108 |
There was no question in anyone's mind that Peter would stick to the straight and narrow. Peter and the warden were still shaking hands, as he was about to leave, when a reporter and photographer from the local newspaper got out of a van, and walked up to the desk where Peter had just collected his wallet. |
| 2109 |
In fact, he had grown up in prison. Carlton Waters had been convicted of the murder of a neighbor and his wife, and attempting unsuccessfully to murder both their children. He had been seventeen years old at the time, and his partner in crime had been a twenty six year old ex con who had befriended him. |
| 2110 |
Waters's partner had been put to death years before, and Waters had always claimed that he did none of the killing. He had just been there, and he had never swerved once from his story. He had always said he was innocent, and had gone to the victims' home with no foreknowledge of what his friend intended. |
| 2111 |
It had happened quickly and badly, and the children had been too young to corroborate his story. They were young enough not to be a danger in identifying them, so they had been badly beaten but ultimately spared. Both men were drunk, and Waters had claimed he blacked out during the murders, and remembered nothing. |
| 2112 |
The jury hadn't bought his story, and he'd been tried as an adult, despite his age, found guilty, and lost a subsequent appeal. He had spent the majority of his life in prison, first in San Quentin, and then in Pelican Bay. He had even managed to graduate from college while there, and was halfway through law school. |
| 2113 |
He was tough, strong, and burly. He was a bodybuilder and looked it. Despite several incidents in his early days when he was still young and hotheaded, in the past two decades he was a model prisoner. He was a powerful, fearsome looking man, but his prison record was clean, and his reputation was bronze, if not golden. |
| 2114 |
As Peter walked through the gate, feeling almost breathless with relief, he looked back over his shoulder once, and saw Carl Waters shaking the warden's hand as the photographer from the local paper snapped his picture. Peter knew he was going to a halfway house in Modesto. His family still lived there. |
| 2115 |
He told his interviewer again that he had been innocent. Whether or not he was, he made an interesting story, had become respected in prison over the past twenty four years, and had milked his claims of innocence for all they were worth. He had been talking for years about his plans to write a book. |
| 2116 |
He had worked Homicide for a couple of years in the beginning and hated it. It was too grim for him, the men who made a career of it always seemed strange to him. They sat around for hours looking at photographs of deceased victims. Their whole view of life got skewed by having to harden themselves to what they saw. |
| 2117 |
What Ted did was more routine, but to him it seemed much more interesting. Every day was different. He liked the problem solving aspect of matching criminals to victims. He had been in the police force for twenty nine years, since he was eighteen. And a detective for nearly twenty, and he was good at what he did. |
| 2118 |
His parents had come from Beijing before he was born, and both his grandmothers had come with them. His family was steeped in ancient traditions. His father had worked in a restaurant all his life, his mother was a seamstress. Both his brothers had joined the police force, just as he had, fresh from high school. |
| 2119 |
He played golf on his day off, or took his mother to buy groceries, or whatever else she needed. Shirley liked to play cards or go shopping with her girlfriends, or get her hair done. They rarely had the same day off, and no longer worried about it. Now that the kids were grown, they had few obligations to each other. |
| 2120 |
It had been the right choice for him, but he wanted something more for them, although the department had been good to him. When he retired, he would have a full pension. He couldn't imagine retiring, although he would have thirty years in the coming year, and lots of his friends had retired long before that. |
| 2121 |
Ted had seen men come and go over the years, some retire, some quit, some killed, some injured. He'd had the same partner for the last ten years, and before that for a few years, they had paired him off with a woman. She had lasted four years, and then moved to Chicago with her husband and joined the force there. |
| 2122 |
It meant he didn't see a lot of the kids, or her, while they were growing up, but it brought in the bacon, and they had almost never needed to pay for a sitter, and never had to worry about day care. Between them, they had covered all their bases. It had taken a toll on them, in the time they hadn't spent together. |
| 2123 |
It always made him feel human again, and peaceful, after a tough case, or a bad week, or something that had upset him. There were a lot of politics in the department, which sometimes stressed him, but generally, he was an easygoing, good natured person. Which was probably why he still got along with Shirley. |
| 2124 |
She was the hothead in the family, the one who got angry and raged at him, the one who had thought their marriage and relationship should have been more than it turned out to be. Ted was strong, quiet, and steady, and somewhere along the way, she had decided that was enough, and stopped trying to get more out of him. |
| 2125 |
But as Ted knew, everything in life was a trade off, and he had no complaints. She was a good woman, they had great kids, their house was comfortable, he loved his job, and the men he worked with were good people. You couldn't ask for more than that, or at least he didn't, which was what had always annoyed her. |
| 2126 |
A job he loved, a woman he knew well, three kids he was crazy about, and peace. He sat at the kitchen table, and had a cup of tea, enjoying the silence in the peaceful house. He read the paper, looked at his mail, watched a little TV. At two thirty he slipped into bed next to her, and lay in the dark, thinking. |
| 2127 |
Fernanda Barnes was staring at a stack of bills, as she sat at her kitchen table. She felt as though she had been looking at the same stack of bills for the four months since her husband died, two weeks after Christmas. But she knew only too well that even though the stack seemed the same, it grew bigger every day. |
| 2128 |
It had been a never ending stream of bad news and frightening information since Allan's death. The latest being that the insurance company was refusing to pay on his life insurance policy. She and the attorney had been expecting that. He had died in questionable circumstances while on a fishing trip in Mexico. |
| 2129 |
It had taken five days to recover his body. Given his financial circumstances at the time of his death, and a disastrous letter he'd left for her, filled with despair, the insurance company suspected it was a suicide. Fernanda suspected that as well. The letter had been given to the insurance company by the police. |
| 2130 |
Thirteen years later, he had hit the big time. It was more than she'd ever dreamed of, hoped for, needed, or wanted. She couldn't even understand it at first. Suddenly he was buying yachts and airplanes, a co op in New York for when he had business meetings there, a house in London he claimed he had always wanted. |
| 2131 |
It had been tight sometimes, but when it was, she tightened the belt at home, and they squeaked through it. She loved being home with their babies. Will had been born nine months to the day after their wedding, and she had worked part time in a bookstore while she was pregnant the first time and never since. |
| 2132 |
Other than that, she had no marketable skills. All she knew how to be was a wife and mother, and she was a good one. Their kids were happy and wholesome and sensible. Even with Ashley at twelve and Will at sixteen, potentially challenging ages, she had never had a single problem with their children. |
| 2133 |
But to Fernanda, it looked like a palace. She had grown up in a suburb of Chicago, her father had been a doctor and her mother a schoolteacher. They had always been comfortable, and unlike Allan, she had simple expectations. All she wanted was to be married to a man who loved her, and have wonderful children. |
| 2134 |
She encouraged them to be and become all that they dreamed of. And she had always done the same with Allan. She just hadn't expected him to make his dreams materialize to the extent he did. When he told her he had sold his company for two hundred million dollars, she nearly fainted, and thought he was kidding. |
| 2135 |
All she wanted was enough to get their kids through college, and live comfortably for the rest of their days. Maybe enough so Allan could retire at a decent age, so they could spend a year traveling in Europe, and she could drag him through museums. She would have loved to spend a month or two in Florence. |
| 2136 |
His confidence soared to dizzying heights, while she decorated the new house, and he chided her for being so pessimistic and so cautious. By then, even she was getting used to their new wealth, and starting to spend more money than she thought she should, but Allan kept telling her to enjoy it and not worry. |
| 2137 |
She stunned herself by buying two important Impressionist paintings at a Christie's auction in New York, and literally shook as she hung them in their living room. It had never even dawned on her that one day she might own those paintings, or any like them. Allan congratulated her on her good decision. |
| 2138 |
But even at the height of the market, Fernanda was never extravagant, nor did she forget her more modest beginnings. Allan's family was from southern California, and they had lived more lavishly than hers had. His father was a businessman, and his mother had been a housewife, and a model in her youth. |
| 2139 |
Fernanda had been seriously impressed the first time she went there, although she thought them both somewhat superficial. His mother had been wearing a fur coat on a balmy night, as it dawned on her that even living in the frozen winters of the Midwest her mother had never owned one, and wouldn't want to. |
| 2140 |
They had died in a car accident on an icy night ten years before. But something in her gut always told her that her parents would have been shocked at the way Allan was spending money, and it still made her nervous, even after she bought the two paintings. At least they were an investment, or at least she hoped so. |
| 2141 |
She didn't have anything to complain about certainly. Within three years their net worth had almost trebled, and he was worth half a billion dollars. It was beyond thinking. She and Allan had always been happy together, even before they had money. He was an easygoing nice guy, who loved his wife and kids. |
| 2142 |
Allan had become a legend by then, and there were others making nearly as much money as he had. But as with the gaming tables in Las Vegas, some took their winnings and disappeared, while others put them back on the table and continued to gamble. Allan was continually making deals, and huge investments. |
| 2143 |
No one actually knew officially if, or to what extent, he had invested, but he lost over a hundred million dollars. Miraculously, at that point, it scarcely made a dent in his fortune. Fernanda read something about the company going under in the newspapers, remembered hearing him talk about it, and asked him. |
| 2144 |
According to him, a hundred million dollars meant nothing to them. He was well on his way to being worth nearly a billion dollars. He didn't explain it to her, but he was borrowing against his ever inflating stocks at that point, and when they started to collapse, he couldn't sell them fast enough to cover the debt. |
| 2145 |
He leveraged his assets by borrowing to buy more assets. The second big hit was harder than the first, and nearly twice the amount. And after the third hit, as the market plummeted, even Allan began to look worried. The assets he had borrowed against were worth nothing suddenly and all he had left was debt. |
| 2146 |
What came after that was a swan dive so staggering that the entire dot com world went with it. Within six months almost everything Allan had made had gone up in smoke, and stocks that had been worth two hundred dollars were worth pennies. The implication to the Barneses was disastrous, to say the least. |
| 2147 |
And just as she hadn't when he made the windfall on the first company, Fernanda didn't fully grasp the implications of what was happening, because he explained almost nothing to her. He was constantly stressed, always on the phone, traveling from one end of the world to another, and shouting at her when he got home. |
| 2148 |
He was absolutely, totally panicked, and with good reason. All she knew before Christmas the year before was that he was several hundred million in debt, and most of his stock was worth nothing. She knew that much, but she had no idea what he was going to do to fix it, or how desperate their situation was becoming. |
| 2149 |
And miraculously, he had made many investments in the name of anonymous partnerships and "letterbox" corporations, which were set up without his name being publicly disclosed. As a result, the world he did business in had not yet caught on to how disastrous his situation was, and he didn't want anyone to know. |
| 2150 |
He was beginning to feel as though he was surrounded by the stench of failure, just as he had once worn the perfume of victory. Fear was suddenly in the air all around him, as Fernanda silently panicked, wanting to support him emotionally, but desperately afraid of what was going to happen to them and their children. |
| 2151 |
He had been there for two days, when there was suddenly another catastrophe in his financial life. Three major companies fell like thatched huts within a week, and took two of Allan's largest investments with them. In a word, they were ruined. He sounded hoarse when he called her from his hotel room late one night. |
| 2152 |
He had nothing left to negotiate with, or trade. He started crying as she listened to him, and Fernanda assured him that it made no difference to her, she loved him anyway. That didn't console him. For Allan, it was about defeat and victory, climbing Everest and falling off again, and having to start at the beginning. |
| 2153 |
She called him again later that night; just to reassure him again, worried about him. She hadn't liked what he'd said about his life insurance, and she was more panicked about him than their financial situation. She knew that men did crazy things sometimes, over money lost or businesses that failed. |
| 2154 |
He was slurring his words and kept telling her that his life was over. She was so upset that she was thinking of flying to Mexico the next day to be with him, while he continued his negotiations, but in the morning, before she could do anything about it, one of the men who was there with him called her. |
| 2155 |
His voice was jagged and he sounded broken. All he knew was that Allan had gone out alone on the boat they'd chartered, after they all went to bed. The crew were off the boat, and he went late at night, handling the boat himself. All anyone knew was that he must have fallen overboard sometime before morning. |
| 2156 |
There was no way to know for sure. But the greater likelihood was that he had killed himself. The police turned the letter over to the insurance company, as they were obliged to. Based on his words, they had refused to pay the claim on his policy, and Fernanda's attorney said it was unlikely they ever would. |
| 2157 |
Fernanda was in Mexico by the time they found his body, washed up on a beach nearby after a brief storm. It was a horrifying, heartbreaking experience, and she was grateful that the children weren't there to see it. Despite their protests, she had left them in California, and gone to Mexico on her own. |
| 2158 |
But as soon as they would let her, she had to sell it. Mercifully, he had put all their other properties in her name, as a gift to her, so she was able to sell them. She had death taxes hanging over her, which had to be paid soon, and the two Impressionists were going up for auction in New York in June. |
| 2159 |
The majority of Allan's debts were attached to corporate entities, and Jack was going to be declaring bankruptcy, but so far no one had any idea of the extent to which Allan's world had collapsed, and she was trying to keep it that way, out of respect for him. Even the children didn't know the full implications yet. |
| 2160 |
And unaware of the letter or his circumstances, the people who'd been with him weren't convinced it wasn't. Only she, her attorneys, and the authorities knew what had happened. For the moment. She lay in bed every night, thinking of their last conversation and playing it in her head over and over and over again. |
| 2161 |
Fernanda felt totally isolated by all that had happened to her, and the only person who knew what she was going through was their attorney, Jack Waterman. He had been sympathetic and supportive and wonderful, and they had just agreed that morning that she was going to put the house on the market by August. |
| 2162 |
She was still trying to keep the extent of their financial disaster a secret. She was doing it as much for Allan's sake, as to avoid total panic. As long as the people they owed money to still thought they had funds, they would give her a little more time to pay them. She was blaming the delay on probate and taxes. |
| 2163 |
She was stalling for time, and none of them knew it. The papers had talked about the demise of some of the various companies he'd invested in. But miraculously, no one had strung the entire disastrous picture together, mostly because in many cases, the public had no idea that he was the principal investor. |
| 2164 |
Fernanda glanced up at the clock in the enormous elegant white granite kitchen where she sat, and saw that she had five minutes to get to the kids' school, and knew she'd have to hurry. She put a rubber band around the fresh stack of bills, and threw them into the box where she was keeping all the others. |
| 2165 |
Ashley was twelve, but maturing fast, and she was already the same height as her mother. Will was coming up the front steps as she hurried out and slammed the door absentmindedly behind her. He was a tall dark haired boy, who looked almost exactly like his father. He had big blue eyes, and an athletic build. |
| 2166 |
It seemed like his mother was a different person these days, and he worried about her driving sometimes. She was a menace on the road. "I'm fine," she reassured him, as she always did, and convinced neither him, nor herself, but kept moving toward her station wagon, unlocked the door, waved, and got in. |
| 2167 |
And a moment later, she drove away, and he stood watching her for a minute, as he saw her drive right through the stop sign on the corner. And then looking as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, he unlocked the front door with his key, walked into the silent house, and closed the door behind him. |
| 2168 |
With one stupid fishing trip in Mexico, his father had changed their lives forever. He had always been going somewhere, doing something he thought was important. In the last few years, he had almost never been home, just out somewhere, making money. He hadn't been to one of Will's games in three years. |
| 2169 |
He had never hung out in the low rent neighborhoods, but in his state issued prison hand me downs, he fit right in where he stood. He walked along Market Street for a while, trying to get used to having people swirling around him again, and he felt vulnerable and jostled. He knew he would have to get over it soon. |
| 2170 |
It was on Sixteenth Street. Once he got off the bus, he walked until he found it, and then stood outside, looking at his new home. It was a far cry from the places where he had lived before he went to prison. He couldn't help thinking of Janet, and their two little girls, wondering where they were now. |
| 2171 |
He had missed his daughters terribly for all the years since he'd seen them. He had read somewhere that Janet had remarried. He had seen it in a magazine while he was in prison. His parental rights had been terminated years before. He imagined that the girls had probably been adopted by her new husband by now. |
| 2172 |
He was wearing a short sleeved shirt and didn't seem to care, and in spite of his dark skin, he had teardrops tattooed on his face, which was a sign that he had been in prison. He looked up at Peter and smiled. He looked welcoming and pleasant. He could see in Peter's eyes the shell shocked dazed look of a new release. |
| 2173 |
There was something about the way he walked, the caution with which he observed the man at the desk, that said it all. They instantly recognized each other as having a common bond. Peter had far more in common with the man at the desk now than he did with anyone from his own world. This had become his world. |
| 2174 |
It was an old Victorian that had long since fallen into disrepair and had been taken over for this purpose. The house was inhabited only by men. Upstairs, the house smelled of cats, and seldom changed litter boxes. The house monitor walked to the end of the hall, stopped at a door, and knocked. There was no answer. |
| 2175 |
There was badly stained old shag carpeting on the floor, a bunk bed, two chests, a battered desk, and a chair. The single window looked at the back of another house, badly in need of paint. It was beyond depressing. At least the cells in Pelican Bay had been modern, well lit, and clean. Or at least his was. |
| 2176 |
The place was a mess, and he stood staring out the window for a long moment, feeling things he hadn't felt in years. Despair, sadness, fear. He had no idea where to go now. He had to get a job. He needed money. He had to stay clean. It was so easy to think of dealing drugs again to get himself out of this mess. |
| 2177 |
He was forty six years old, had been state raised, had been dealing drugs since he was fifteen, and using them since he was twelve. But the first time he'd gone to prison, there had been manslaughter charges too. Someone had gotten killed when a drug deal went sour. "No one got hurt this time." Waters nodded. |
| 2178 |
He actually liked the guy, although he thought he was a fool to have gotten caught again. And being a mule was as low as it got. It meant he had been hired to carry dope across the border, and obviously hadn't been smart about it, if he'd gotten arrested. But sooner or later, they all did. Or most of them anyway. |
| 2179 |
He was going to see if he could talk his way into something better. And with luck, he might. The supply officer he'd worked for, for the last two years, had given him a glowing reference, and he had acquired decent computer skills in prison. And after the articles he'd written, he was a modestly skilled writer. |
| 2180 |
The two men sat around and talked for a while, and then went out to dinner. They had to sign in and out, and be back by nine o'clock. All Carlton Waters could think of as he walked to the restaurant with Malcolm was how strange it felt to be walking down a street again, and to be going out to dinner. |
| 2181 |
He had spent sixty percent of his life in prison, and he hadn't even pulled the trigger. At least that was what he had told the judge, and they had never been able to prove he had. It was over now. He had learned a lot in prison that he might never have learned otherwise. The question was what to do with it. |
| 2182 |
Even now, with so much else on her mind. She loved being there for him, and besides, it was her job. Or had been till now. She would have to do something else soon. But for now, she was still a full time mother and loved every minute of it. Being there with them was even more precious to her now that Allan had died. |
| 2183 |
Will had dark hair like his father, Ashley was blond like her, and Sam had bright red hair, although no one could figure out courtesy of whose genes. There were no redheads in the family, on either side, that they knew of. With his big brown eyes and multitude of freckles, he looked like a kid in an ad or a cartoon. |
| 2184 |
They loved having her around all the time, although she knew they missed their father. They sat at the kitchen table together, while Sam complained about a fourth grader who had bullied him at school that day. Will said he had a science project due that week, and asked her if she could get some copper wire for him. |
| 2185 |
He was going to lacrosse camp that summer, and she was glad for him. Ashley had made plans to go to Tahoe, to a friend's house, and Sam was going to day camp and staying in town with her. She was glad the kids would be busy. It would give her time to think, and do what she had to do with their attorney. |
| 2186 |
She had no idea where they were going to live once it sold. Someplace small, and cheap. She also knew that sooner or later it would come out that Allan had been totally broke and heavily in debt when he died. She had done what she could to protect him until now, but eventually the truth would come out. |
| 2187 |
She wasn't going to be able to afford that anymore either. When all was said and done, all they were going to be able to do was go to school, keep a roof over their heads, and eat. The rest was going to be slim pickings, unless she got a great job, which was unlikely. It didn't matter anymore. Very little did. |
| 2188 |
She spent a lot of time asking herself why Allan hadn't understood that. Why he would rather have died than face his mistakes, or bad luck, or poor judgment, or all of the above? He had been in the grips of some kind of deal fever that had led him right up to the edge and past it, at everyone's expense. |
| 2189 |
She had features like a cameo and was developing a lovely figure. She was slowly evolving from child to woman and often it seemed to Fernanda that it wasn't as slow as she would have liked. The serious look in her eyes made her look older than her years. They had all grown up in the past four months. |
| 2190 |
Their instant success had isolated them from everyone. And their instant poverty more so. The friends she'd had for years had felt awkward with their sudden money. Their lives became too different, as their new lifestyle set them apart. And Allan's death and the worries he had left her with had isolated her further. |
| 2191 |
She screened all her calls, and rarely returned them. There was no one she wanted to talk to. Except her kids. And the lawyer. She had all the classic signs of depression, but who wouldn't? She had been suddenly widowed at thirty nine, and she was about to lose everything they had, even their house. |
| 2192 |
It wasn't health food, but at least they ate it. She picked at hers, didn't even bother to put a hamburger on her plate, and pushed most of her salad into the garbage. She was seldom hungry, nor was Ashley. She had gotten taller and thinner in the past four months, which made her look suddenly older. |
| 2193 |
No one spoke to her, and she didn't try to engage them in conversation. People didn't know what to say to her. Her grief made everyone feel awkward. It was almost as though people were afraid the loss would be contagious. Women with safe, comfortable, normal lives and husbands didn't want to get near her. |
| 2194 |
He loved winning, and hated losing. "Want to stop for a pizza?" she offered. He hesitated and then nodded. He ran in with the money she handed him, and got a large with everything on it, and then he turned and smiled at her when he got back in the car, and sat in the front seat with the pizza box perched on his lap. |
| 2195 |
For the first time in months, she had a sense of competence and peace and well being, as though she could handle what life had thrown at her, and they would all survive it. Maybe things were going to be okay after all, she told herself, as she locked her car, and followed Will up the steps to the house. |
| 2196 |
Stark was determined not to go back this time. He had stayed clean since he'd been out, and was making enough at the tomato farm to stay afloat, to go out to eat at the local coffee shop, and be able to pay for a few beers. Waters had gone to apply for a job in the office of the farm where Stark worked. |
| 2197 |
Waters said he hoped he'd get the job he'd interviewed for the day before, and if not, he'd have to start looking for something else. But he wasn't worried about it. The two men were asleep on their bunks by ten o'clock, and when Stark got up at seven o'clock the next day, Carl was gone, and had left him a note. |
| 2198 |
Free was the man who had been hired to kill a man's wife, had bungled the job, and wound them both up in prison instead. But they never spoke of their criminal life when they were together. None of them did. They did in prison occasionally, but out in the world, they were determined to put the past behind them. |
| 2199 |
He seemed as though no one and nothing frightened him. He could take care of himself and looked it. The two men sat talking about the ballgame that night, eating their tacos and talking about games they'd seen, players they admired, batting averages, and historical moments in baseball they'd wished they'd seen. |
| 2200 |
He'd heard descriptions like that before, in the joint, and it always made him question the guy's eyesight. The women never looked anything like the guy's descriptions when you saw them. But if that was what Jim Free thought, he wasn't going to argue with him. A man was entitled to his dreams and illusions. |
| 2201 |
He looked relaxed and at ease, and as though he'd spent a pleasant day, as he smiled at the two men. He was wearing a blue cotton shirt open over a T shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots, and his boots were dusty. He had just walked half a mile from the bus stop, on a dirt road, on a beautiful spring night. |
| 2202 |
As she always did, Fernanda spent the weekend with her children. Ashley had a rehearsal for a ballet recital she was preparing for in June, and afterward Fernanda dropped her off for a movie and dinner with friends. Fernanda chauffeured her to all of it, with Sam sitting in the front seat beside her. |
| 2203 |
She would have liked to go for a walk on the beach with the kids. She suggested it at lunch, but none of them was in the mood. She just wanted to get away from her tax work. She had just taken a break, and walked into the kitchen for a cup of tea, when there was a sudden loud explosion that sounded very near them. |
| 2204 |
They could already hear sirens in the distance. "It sounded huge," Will corrected her, as he ran in, and Ashley came downstairs, looking confused a minute later, as they all stood in the kitchen, wondering what had happened. The sirens sounded as though they were on their street, and rapidly approaching. |
| 2205 |
But there were police and firemen everywhere, as the captain got out of his car. "Maybe it was a car bomb," Will said with interest as they stood outside, and eventually they went back into the house, while Sam complained. He wanted to see the fire trucks, but the police weren't letting anyone near the scene. |
| 2206 |
And Ashley sat with Sam, watching the end of the video with him. It was another two hours before the last of the police cars left, and the fire trucks left long before that. Everything was peaceful again, as Fernanda cooked dinner for them. She was just putting the dishes in the dishwasher when the doorbell rang. |
| 2207 |
They both looked respectable, and apologized for disturbing her, as she stood looking at them in confusion. "Is something wrong?" It didn't occur to her at first that their visit had anything to do with the car they'd seen burning that afternoon, or the explosion they'd heard when the gas tank must have exploded. |
| 2208 |
They were both nicely dressed men somewhere in their forties, wearing sport coats, shirts, and ties. They said they were Detectives Lee and Stone, and handed her their cards, as they stood in the front hall, talking to her. There was nothing ominous about them, and the Asian man looked at her and smiled. |
| 2209 |
It was a big handsome room, with white granite counters, state of the art equipment, and a big white Venetian glass chandelier. It was in keeping with the grandeur of the rest of the house. It was an imposing, large, very formal house, in direct proportion to Allan's success at the time they acquired it. |
| 2210 |
The children came into the room right behind her, as the two detectives stood up and smiled at them. They were a nice looking bunch of kids, and she was a nice looking woman. Ted Lee suddenly felt sorry for her, and from the look on her face when she'd answered him, he got the feeling her widowhood was recent. |
| 2211 |
They checked all the houses on the block, including the Farbers and the Coopers Sam had mentioned. No one had seen anything, or at least nothing they remembered. Ted was still thinking of the adorable little redheaded kid three hours later, when they went back to their office, and he poured himself a cup of coffee. |
| 2212 |
When they called the judge on the number his wife had given them, he said that he was convinced someone was trying to kill him. But like Ted, he thought Carlton Waters was too big a stretch. He had put too much effort into winning his freedom to take a risk like that after he'd only been out a few days. |
| 2213 |
Although there was always the possibility that he was in fact just that ballsy, and just that cool. He could have gotten there by bus certainly, planted the bomb, and gotten back to Modesto again, in time for curfew at the halfway house, with time to spare. But Ted's instincts told him that this wasn't their man. |
| 2214 |
And he remembered their names. They were a nasty piece of work. He had never bought Waters's claims of innocence either, and he didn't trust him now. All convicts claimed that they'd been framed, and set up either by their girlfriends, their running partners, or their attorneys. He'd heard it too many times. |
| 2215 |
Carlton Waters wasn't entirely out of the running yet. He didn't have a corroborated alibi, but there was no evidence that pinned it to him either, and he and Jeff both suspected there wouldn't be. If Waters had done it, he was too smart for that. Even if he'd done it, they might never be able to pin it on him. |
| 2216 |
He was alone, and he was wearing a white shirt, dark tie, and blazer. He had looked eminently respectable both times she'd seen him. She opened the door with a look of surprise, and realized again how tall he was. He had a manila envelope in his hands, and seemed to hesitate, until she asked him to come in. |
| 2217 |
In the setting she lived in, she looked as though she should be sweeping down the stairs in an evening gown, trailing a fur coat behind her. But she didn't look like that kind of woman. Instinctively, Ted suspected he'd like her. She seemed like a normal person, and a gentle woman, although a sad one. |
| 2218 |
She wondered what percentage of crimes they solved, and how much energy they put into it. He seemed very earnest about it. He had a nice face, and gentle eyes, and an intelligent, kind demeanor. He wasn't what she would have expected a police detective to be like. She somehow expected him to be harder. |
| 2219 |
But it's amazing the things that come out, when you dig below the surface. And given the fact that it's a judge, my guess is that there was a motive. Revenge, someone he sent to prison who thinks he didn't deserve the sentence he got, and wants to get even. If it's someone like that, we're more likely to find them. |
| 2220 |
Ted said nothing to distract the boy, he just stood quietly and waited, while both adults watched him with interest. Sam was clearly thinking and combing his memory for some sign of recognition, and finally he handed the photograph back and shook his head, but he still seemed to be thinking. Ted noticed that too. |
| 2221 |
She didn't want Ted to tell Sam about the two children they had harmed as well. She didn't want Sam to have nightmares, as he had frequently since his father died. He was afraid she would die too, or even that he would. It was age appropriate for him, but also normal after what had just happened to his father. |
| 2222 |
But he suspected the boy missed having his father around, and it was nice for him to have a few minutes to chat with a man. He didn't know Fernanda's circumstances since her hus band's death, but on the two occasions he'd come to the house, he didn't have the feeling there was a man around, other than her oldest son. |
| 2223 |
He was still thinking about her when he went back to his car, and drove away, and she quietly closed the door. She went back to her desk after that, and read Jack Waterman's letter again. She called to make an appointment with him, and his secretary said he would call her back the next day. He had left for the day. |
| 2224 |
Sam wore his new star, and they talked about the car bombing up the street again. Fernanda felt slightly better knowing that more than likely it was specifically directed at the judge by someone he had sentenced harshly over the years, than if it had been just a random act of violence directed at anyone. |
| 2225 |
The idea of something so extraordinary happening right on their block, to someone they knew, seemed incredible to them, and to her. But incredible or not, it had happened, and could again. The vulnerability it left Fernanda still feeling when she went to bed that night made her miss Allan more than ever. |
| 2226 |
People had moved, faces had changed, people who remembered him either wouldn't take his calls, or did and fobbed him off, sounding stunned to hear from him at all. Four years in a normal life was a long time. And almost everyone who'd ever known him knew he had gone to prison. No one was anxious to see him again. |
| 2227 |
No matter how useful he had been to the warden while he was in prison, no one in Silicon Valley, or the financial field, wanted anything to do with him. His history was too checkered, and they could only imagine he'd have learned worse tricks than the ones he knew previously, after four years in prison. |
| 2228 |
Not to mention his predilection for addiction, which had ultimately brought him down. He inquired at restaurants, then small businesses, a record store, and finally a trucking firm. No one had work for him, they thought he was overqualified, overeducated, one man openly called him a smart ass and a snob. |
| 2229 |
A tortilla shop near the halfway house offered him half of minimum wage, in cash, to wash dishes, but he couldn't live on it, and they didn't need to pay him more. They had unlimited numbers of illegal aliens at their disposal, who were willing to work for pennies. And Peter needed more than that to survive. |
| 2230 |
But someone like Addison could always find a place for Peter in one of his shadier companies, and if nothing else, it was work, and decent money. But Peter hated to call him. He had been sucked in by him before, and once he had you, for whatever reason, he owned you. But there was no one else to call at this point. |
| 2231 |
He had no friends, no family, no one to call, no one to help him. And his parole agent told him he'd better find work soon. The longer he was out of work, the closer they would watch him. They knew the kind of pressure it put on parolees not to have money, and the kind of activities they resorted to in desperation. |
| 2232 |
And two hours later, Phillip called him. Peter was in his room looking grim, when someone shouted up the stairs that there was a call for him from some guy called Addison. Peter ran to the phone, with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It could be the beginning of disaster for him. Or salvation. |
| 2233 |
Phillip Addison was his only option at the moment. Peter told himself that as soon as he got something better, he could always dump him. What he was worried about and trying not to focus on were the shackles Addison put on those he helped, and the unscrupulous methods he used to keep people beholden to him. |
| 2234 |
He had borrowed money from Addison for his last buy, and never paid it back when he got arrested, and they confiscated the bulk of the shipment before he sold it. In real terms, he knew he probably owed Addison a couple of hundred thousand dollars, and he didn't deny it. For whatever reason, Addison hadn't collected. |
| 2235 |
But eventually, he had proven that like everyone else, he had clay feet, and he had overextended himself pretty badly. He had shored up his own finances by running drugs out of Mexico, and the bulk of his net worth now was in crystal meth labs in Mexico, and a land office business he did selling heroin in the Mission. |
| 2236 |
If his own use hadn't gotten out of hand, and his judgment with it, Peter would probably never have gone to prison. Addison was smarter than that. He never touched the drugs he sold. He was clever, and ingenious about how he ran his underground empire. Most of the time, he was a good judge of horseflesh. |
| 2237 |
Now he had blown them, but if he could get on his feet again, with Phillip's help, Addison thought he could be useful. And with what he'd learned in prison in the last four years, perhaps even more so. He had been an amateur conman before, an innocent gone wrong. But if he'd turned pro, Addison wanted him, no question. |
| 2238 |
As he reached the address on foot, he felt overwhelmed with trepidation. And in his office, Phillip Addison was sitting at his desk, reading through a thick file. It had been in a locked drawer in his desk for over a year, and was a life's dream for him. He had been thinking about it for nearly three years now. |
| 2239 |
Whether he was capable of pulling it off was the only question. This was the one thing he was not willing to risk, or do badly. It had to be done with the precision of the Bolshoi Ballet, or the surgical instruments he made, with the infinite pinpoint perfection of a laser. There was no room here for slippage. |
| 2240 |
He was wearing a custom made English suit, a handsome tie, and a shirt that had been made for him in Paris. Even his shoes were shined to perfection when he came around the desk to shake Peter's hand, seeming not to notice the garb Peter wore, which he wouldn't have deigned to wash his car with, and Peter knew it. |
| 2241 |
They chatted inanely for a while, and Phillip indulged him by asking what he had in mind. Peter told him the areas that were of interest. Marketing, finance, new investments, new divisions, new business, anything entrepreneurial that Addison thought would be suited to him. And then he sighed and looked at Phillip. |
| 2242 |
He played golf regularly with heads of industries and heads of state alike. He had important political connections. He was a fraud of such a lofty degree that Peter knew he would be helpless to go after him, if anything ever went wrong. He was a powerful man, an evil force, with absolutely no integrity or morals. |
| 2243 |
It sounded interesting and challenging, and profitable. It was just what he needed to get on his feet and make a few investments of his own again, maybe start his own company. He had a keen sense for investments, and had learned a lot before he got off on the wrong track. This was the chance he needed to start over. |
| 2244 |
Fernanda wanted it that way for as long as possible, to honor her husband's memory and for her children's sake. The benefit to Addison of an alliance with Barnes, from what Peter could see, was that the world Barnes had created around him was so respectable, it would gild his ventures with the same golden brush. |
| 2245 |
The entire project seemed to be shrouded in mystery, so much so that he was being asked to hire people for a nameless project, in a field that hadn't been explained to him, to do a job that Addison had yet to outline. It was more than a little confusing, which was precisely what Addison had intended. |
| 2246 |
After we put together the project, or you do more precisely, we make our proposal to her. We provide a little incentive for her to accept our offer. She pays us handsomely. In fact, I am prepared to be reasonable with her, given the size of her fortune, and the estate taxes she is probably required to pay. |
| 2247 |
He had been laundering money for his Colombian associates for quite some time, and investing it in high risk dot com deals, which promised a tremendous return. The results had been extraordinary for a while, until the tides had begun to turn. They had not only turned finally, but damn near drowned him when they did. |
| 2248 |
That ought to buy you some decent clothes and get a place to stay until you get things up and running. You have to find a location to take them, of course, while we wait for the ransom to be paid. Having just lost her husband, I don't think Mrs. Barnes will take a long time to pay for her children's return. |
| 2249 |
There was no other way to see it. And if his own chil dren's lives were in fact at stake, then he had no choice. How could he possibly take the risk? He didn't think Janet would even talk to him, and by the time he found her to tell her of the danger their children were in, his own daughters might be dead. |
| 2250 |
Even if he hadn't seen them since they were toddlers, he still loved them, and he would die before he'd put them at risk. Or risk prison, or even the death penalty to protect them. All he could think now was that it was his responsibility to see to it that the Barnes children weren't killed in the course of the kidnap. |
| 2251 |
His life had turned into a nightmare in the past two hours. Worse than ever before, and beyond anything he could imagine. He was risking the death penalty, or life in prison at the very least. Addison opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out an envelope of money. He had prepared it before Peter arrived. |
| 2252 |
You walked in here a bum and an ex con two hours ago, and you're walking out of here a rich man. Keep that in mind. And if you ever implicate me in any way in this, or even so much as breathe my name, you'll be dead within a day. Is that clear? And if you get cold feet, and try to back out, just think of your girls. |
| 2253 |
Peter could guess that much. Peter nodded and looked at him. His entire life had changed in the last two hours. He had an envelope full of money in his pocket with a hundred thousand dollars in it. And by the following week, he would have another hundred thousand dollars, and it meant nothing to him. |
| 2254 |
As Peter lay in bed in the halfway house that night, he thought about contacting his ex wife. He wanted to warn her to be especially careful with the girls. But he knew she'd think he was insane. He didn't want Addison pulling a stunt on him, and holding them hostage until he accomplished the task he'd been assigned. |
| 2255 |
So as long as Peter did what he had been hired to do, the girls were safe. It was the only thing he had done for his daughters in the last six years, or maybe their entire lives. He had bought their safety at the expense of his own. He was still having trouble believing they would be able to pull it off. |
| 2256 |
But if he picked the right people, maybe he could. It was all about who he hired now. If he picked a bunch of sloppy, careless criminals, they might panic and kill the kids. What he had to find now was the real thing. The smoothest, toughest, coldest, most competent men in the business, if there was such a thing. |
| 2257 |
Peter had to admit that Addison's strategy was very smooth. As long as Allan Barnes's widow had the money he wanted at her disposal. It was unlikely she kept a hundred million dollars in cash at home, in a cookie jar. He was thinking about all of it, as he lay on his bunk, and his roommate walked in. |
| 2258 |
He had spent a killing day working at Burger King, and reeked of burgers and french fries. It was only a modest improvement over the way he'd smelled the week before, when he'd worked in a place that served fish and chips. The whole room had smelled of fish. The burger smell was only slightly better. |
| 2259 |
He had a pain in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it. So far, he had only one man in mind. He hadn't been convicted of kidnapping, but Peter suspected he was the right kind of person for the job. He knew who he was, and roughly where he had gone when he left prison. All Peter had to do now was locate him. |
| 2260 |
Just thinking about it, he tossed and turned all night. He went to look for a hotel the next morning when he got up. He took a bus downtown, and found a place on the fringes of the Tenderloin, at the southern base of Nob Hill. It was small and impersonal, and just busy enough so no one would pay attention to him. |
| 2261 |
He paid a month's rent in advance, in cash, and then went back to the Mission, to the halfway house, to pack his things. He signed out at the desk, left a note for his roommate, wishing him luck, and then took a bus downtown again. He went to Macy's and bought some clothes. It was nice being able to do that again. |
| 2262 |
There were hookers wandering by, and drunks in doorways. There was a drug deal going down in a car parked outside, and other than that, there were businesspeople and tourists. It was the kind of neighborhood where no one paid much attention to you, and you could get lost easily, which was exactly what he wanted. |
| 2263 |
One of the conditions of his parole was not having a cell phone. It was a standard condition for parolees who had gone to prison for dealing drugs. Addison had told him to buy one. And now, without question, Addison was the boss. Peter knew there was no way his parole agent would know he'd bought the phone. |
| 2264 |
They were getting more and more excited about getting out of school for the summer. Will was particularly excited about playing lacrosse at camp for three weeks. And the others were excited about their plans too. And when they left for school the next day, she drove downtown, to meet with Jack Waterman. |
| 2265 |
She liked him, she always had, although these days he was the voice of doom. He was the attorney who was handling Allan's estate, and before that they had been friends for years. He had been stunned by the mess Allan's affairs were in, the catastrophic decisions he had made, and how they impacted Fernanda and the kids. |
| 2266 |
She tried not to think of it as she smiled at him, and he smiled back. She had been a hell of a good sport for the past four months, and he admired her for it. Fernanda said she wondered if Allan had ever considered what this would do to her. Knowing him, Jack suspected it had been the farthest thing from his mind. |
| 2267 |
All he thought about was business, and money. There were times when Allan only thought of himself, both during his meteoric rise to dotcom celebrity, and as he plummeted at record speed on his way down. He was a handsome, charming, brilliant guy, but there had also been something very narcissistic about him. |
| 2268 |
He'd gone to business school with Allan, and then law school after that. The three of them had known each other for a long time. He had had his own griefs over the years. He had been married to an attorney, and she died of a brain tumor at thirty five. He had never married again, and they hadn't had time to have kids. |
| 2269 |
He was particularly worried about what she was going to live on after they paid Allan's debts. He knew she was thinking about getting a job in a museum, or teaching school. She had figured out that if she taught at Ashley and Sam's school, or even Will's, they might give her a break on their tuitions. |
| 2270 |
There was no current woman in his life, and he had had a soft spot for Fernanda over the years, but he also knew from his own experience that it was far too soon to approach anything of the kind with her. Allan had been gone for four months. And when his own wife died, he hadn't dated anyone for a year. |
| 2271 |
They had known each other for so long that she thought of him as a brother. It never even occurred to her that he wanted to ask her out and was biding his time. She had been off the dating market for seventeen years, and hadn't even thought of reentering it. She had more important things to think of first. |
| 2272 |
She never wanted to see a boat again. "We'll think of something else," he said kindly. They spent the next two hours going over business matters, and finished the last of their paperwork shortly before noon. She had a good understanding of all of it, and she was being responsible about the decisions she made. |
| 2273 |
She was relieved when she said good bye to him, and drove back to Pacific Heights on her own. She heaved an enormous sigh, and tried to get rid of the sensation of panic in her stomach. She had a knot in it the size of a fist whenever she left his office, which was why she had declined his invitation to lunch. |
| 2274 |
It was the second one he had called. He had no idea what he was going to say when he got there. He needed to feel Waters out and see how things were going for him. And even if Waters didn't want to do the job himself, after twenty four years in prison, with a conviction for murder, he would certainly know who would. |
| 2275 |
As it turned out, the halfway house was only a few blocks from the bus station, and he walked there in the late spring heat. Peter took his leather baseball jacket off, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. And by the time he got to the address they'd given him on the phone, his new shoes were covered with dust. |
| 2276 |
All he would confirm was that curfew was at nine o'clock, and he'd be back by then. Peter sat on the porch waiting for a long time, and at five o'clock, he was thinking about getting something to eat, when he saw a familiar figure sauntering slowly down the street, with two other men. Waters was an imposing figure. |
| 2277 |
It had to be. The two men hadn't exchanged ten words in prison in the four years they'd both been there at the same time, and now he had ridden all the way from San Francisco to talk to him. Waters was curious to hear what it was about, to bring Peter up three hours on a bus from the city, and have him wait all day. |
| 2278 |
He was hungry and nervous, and he had a rock in his stomach as they walked down the street without saying a word to each other. It was a full ten minutes before they reached the park, and Peter sat down on a bench, as Waters hesitated for a long moment and then lowered himself onto the bench next to him. |
| 2279 |
He was some fool with money who had gotten himself busted out of sheer stupidity, and then kissed the warden's ass to get a job in the office. Waters had done hard time, and spent a lot of time in solitary. He hung around with murderers and rapists and kidnappers, and guys who had done a lot of time. |
| 2280 |
It was written all over him as he spat a wad of tobacco several feet and turned to look at Peter. Waters's eyes nearly made Peter shiver, as they had when he saw him in the warden's office. He was waiting, and there was no avoiding it. Peter knew he had to talk, he just didn't know what to say, as Waters spat again. |
| 2281 |
Between themselves, they had talked about getting into the drug business, but they didn't have to figure that out yet. Waters knew people who could get them passports, and run them into Mexico. And from there, they could go anywhere. All they wanted was to do the job, get their money, and get the hell out. |
| 2282 |
And it was only for a month. For ten million bucks, he could sit in a car all day, and cover nights. He reported in to Addison and told him they had the guys. Addison sounded pleased and said he was willing to pay for both the van and the car. They could dump both a month later, after the job was done. |
| 2283 |
Peter bought a Ford station wagon that afternoon. It was five years old and had a lot of mileage on it, and conveniently, it was black. He bought an old van at a different lot the next day and rented a space for it in a public garage. At six o'clock that night, he was parked outside Fernanda's house. |
| 2284 |
Something about the way they did it made his heart ache, and he wasn't sure why. She was beautiful and blond and very small, and when they got to the house again, the boy was laughing when he got out of the car. He was in good spirits. They had won. Peter watched them walk up the steps to the house arm in arm. |
| 2285 |
Seeing them made him want to be next to them, and he felt left out in an odd way when they went inside and shut the door. And as she went in, he watched her through the window to see if she was setting the alarm, which was important information for him. She didn't. She walked straight into the kitchen. |
| 2286 |
Peter saw the lights go on in the kitchen, and he imagined her cooking dinner for them. He had seen both Ashley and Will by then, but hadn't seen Sam yet. He remembered him from the photograph as being a smiling, redheaded little boy. Late that night, he saw her standing by the window in her bedroom. |
| 2287 |
Sam was wearing a bright red T shirt with a fire engine on his back, with navy corduroy pants and red high top sneakers, and he was singing at the top of his lungs, while his mother laughed and waved him to the car. He got into the back seat, because his sister was in the front seat, with the bag on her lap. |
| 2288 |
He couldn't imagine what was in the bag as she dragged it up the steps. Sam bounced into school behind her like a puppy, and turned with a grin to wave at his mom, as she stood there for a minute, blew him a kiss, waved, and got back in the car. She waited until he'd gone inside before she drove away. |
| 2289 |
Peter could have stayed in the car, but he had decided to follow her, to get a better sense of who she was. And as he watched her, he found himself fascinated by her. She was the epitome of the perfect mom, in his eyes. All she did and all she thought about and all she bought seemed to be about and for her kids. |
| 2290 |
He was impressed by how simply dressed she was. No one would have thought for a minute that her husband had left her half a billion dollars. She was wearing a pink T shirt, jeans, and clogs, and she looked like a kid herself. She turned to look at him, as they both waited, and unexpectedly she smiled at him. |
| 2291 |
He looked immaculate in a new blue button down shirt, loafers, and khaki pants. He looked like all the men she'd grown up with, or friends of Allan's. He was tall and good looking and blond, and he knew from things he'd read about her now that he was only six months younger than she. They were virtually the same age. |
| 2292 |
She looked a little like Janet, but prettier, and more than he realized, he looked like Allan with blond hair. She had noticed it when she put back the magazine, and then stared at him. And when she dropped a roll of paper towels, while putting them on the check out stand, he picked them up and handed them to her. |
| 2293 |
He liked everything about her, and listened to her chatting with the man adding up her groceries, who seemed to know her well. She said the kids were doing okay, and Will was going to camp to play lacrosse. Peter had to remind himself of what his mission was, and wondered when the boy was going to camp. |
| 2294 |
The thought of it weighed on him, as he watched her go through two more red lights and a stop sign on California Street on the way home. Her driving stank. He wondered what she was thinking about when she cruised through the red lights. And he was puzzled by what he saw when he got back to the house. |
| 2295 |
He wondered if it was the maid's day off. After that, he didn't see her again till noon. She came back out for something she had forgotten in the car, and dropped the roll of paper towels again, but this time he didn't pick them up as he had in the store. He didn't move. He couldn't let her see him. |
| 2296 |
She jumped in her station wagon and drove off toward school, driving too fast, and nearly hit a bus. Just watching her for a day, he already knew that the woman was a menace on the road. She drove too fast, she went through lights, she changed lanes without signaling, and nearly hit pedestrians in crosswalks twice. |
| 2297 |
Peter had put the team in place quickly, and he said he was going to Tahoe over the weekend to find a house. He wanted to find a cabin somewhere in an isolated area where they could keep the kids for as long as it took for her to come up with the ransom. As far as Addison was concerned, this was just business. |
| 2298 |
Fernanda was driving him crazy. She was all he could think of now, not only because of what they had in store for her, but because of what he wished he could say to her, and the time he wished he could spend with her, if things were different. In other circumstances, he would have liked to get to know her. |
| 2299 |
But as long as no one saw Carl and his boys, there was no problem. If anything happened, Peter could always say that the men had broken in and used the house while he was in San Francisco. They were all making painstaking efforts to keep all of the various elements separate, and so far, there had been no problems. |
| 2300 |
He thought about her all the way, wondering what would happen if he backed out now. It was simple, Addison would have his daughters killed, and Peter himself shortly thereafter. And if he confessed to the police and did time for it, or was violated, Addison would have him killed in prison. It was all so simple. |
| 2301 |
She didn't need jewelry or fancy clothes for what she was doing, or what her life was now. Peter drove to the first address on his list, and saw that it was bordered on three sides, and within two feet in each case, by other houses, which made it impossible for their purpose. He had the same problem with the next four. |
| 2302 |
Peter took it as a six month rental, and asked the man if he minded if he cleaned it up a bit, and weeded the yard, since he was going to be using it to entertain clients, and the owner looked delighted. He couldn't believe his good fortune to have Peter as a tenant. Peter hadn't even quibbled about the price. |
| 2303 |
She felt completely isolated. Peter had spoken to her twice by then, once in the supermarket on the first day, and another time in a bookshop, when she glanced up at him and smiled, and thought he looked vaguely familiar. She had dropped some of the books she was carrying, and with an easy smile, he handed them to her. |
| 2304 |
He noticed that she had stopped crying at the bedroom window. He saw her standing there sometimes, looking out at the street vacantly, as though she were waiting for someone. It was like looking straight into her soul, when he saw her there at night. It was almost as though he knew what she was thinking. |
| 2305 |
Technically, he was obliged to submit to a search of his premises, without warrant or notice, if his parole agent ever decided to show up, which so far he hadn't. He wasn't worried about Peter, especially now that he was employed. But there was no point taking chances. Up till then, everything had gone smoothly. |
| 2306 |
He was so close, he could almost touch them. And when she walked by him, he could smell Fernanda's perfume. She had worn a khaki skirt that night, a white cashmere V neck sweater, and high heels for the first time since he'd seen her. Her hair was down, she had lipstick on, and she looked happy and pretty. |
| 2307 |
They had multiple victories to celebrate that night, and Peter felt sad and lonely as he watched them. He knew what was coming. And his heart ached for Fernanda. He felt almost like a ghost watching them. One who knew the future, and the heartbreaks that would come, and could do nothing to stop them. |
| 2308 |
The men still holding out their badges were wearing plaid shirts and blue jeans. One was Hispanic, and the other was African American, and he had no idea what they wanted. As far as he knew, his drug business was running smoothly. Nothing was traceable to him, and the people running it were totally efficient. |
| 2309 |
Holmquist spent the rest of the afternoon interrogating him. After which, he was formally booked, and informed that it was too late in the day for a federal judge to set bail. He would have to cool his heels in jail for the night, and could only be released after a hearing to set bail at nine o'clock the next morning. |
| 2310 |
They had gone through computers and files, which would be used as evidence against him. They had brought boxloads of them back to the office. They had also unlocked his desk, and found a loaded handgun in it, a number of personal files, and four hundred thousand dollars in cash, which Holmquist found interesting. |
| 2311 |
They had used master keys to open all his desk drawers, and the special agents who'd gone through them assured Rick that when they left Addison's office, his desk was empty. They had brought everything back with them, and seized it all as evidence, even his cell phone, which he had forgotten to take with him. |
| 2312 |
There would be only a few stragglers left at that hour. Most of the business they did at night was at the bar. Rick was already there when Ted arrived, and he was relaxing at the bar with a beer. He was going off duty so he could drink. Ted never did. He needed his wits about him when he was working. |
| 2313 |
Allan Barnes had made the front page often enough for his deals and meteoric success. He wasn't like Addison, flaunting himself in the social columns for going to the opening of the symphony. Allan Barnes was an entirely different breed, and there had never been any rumors of monkey business around him. |
| 2314 |
And he still missed working with Ted. They traded a lot of information, and talked about their cases with each other frequently. More than once, in fact many times, they had cracked a case together, just by talking it out. Even now they used each other as sounding boards, as they had tonight, and it always helped them. |
| 2315 |
He had been faithful to Shirley since they were kids, which Rick always told him was sick. But he admired him for it, although he had known for years from things Ted said, and didn't, that their marriage wasn't all that it used to be. At least they were still together, and they loved each other in their own way. |
| 2316 |
Ted showed him his star and asked for the key. The desk clerk wanted to know if he was in trouble, and Ted said it was a standard check of a parolee, which didn't seem to bother him. There had been others who had stayed there before. The desk clerk shrugged and handed Ted the key, and he walked upstairs. |
| 2317 |
There was no telephone number and no name. Only the address, but he recognized it immediately, even without a name. He closed the book and put the rubber band on it, closed the desk drawer, and after a last look around, he walked out of the room. And as soon as he got back to his car, he called Rick. |
| 2318 |
By the time Ted walked into his office, Rick had the Barnes file on his desk, and he had three agents working full time on the computers and calling other agencies and a few select informants, to see what they could find out. It was what they had been planning to do on Addison anyway. He had just speeded it up. |
| 2319 |
But even if she's worth half of that, she's a sitting duck, with three kids. You have two convicted felons who got out of the slammer six weeks ago, and seem to be floating around loose. They're both tied to Addison in some way and each other. And you have a car bombing down the street from our sitting duck. |
| 2320 |
We're not talking white collar crime. I think she's a kidnapping victim waiting to happen, and so are her kids. Addison needs thirty million dollars, and he needs it fast. She's worth five hundred million, or thereabouts. I don't like the way those two facts match up. Or Waters hanging around, if he is. |
| 2321 |
In spite of that possibility, he had made a conscious decision to enter the house through the front visibly. There was no reason for Peter Morgan to recognize him, and even if he or Waters did, Ted had always preferred the theory of a visible police presence in circumstances like that as a deterrent. |
| 2322 |
For a minute, he thought they looked like cops, and then decided he was crazy. There was no reason for cops to show up at her house. He was getting paranoid, because he knew the day was coming close. He also knew Addison had been arrested the day before, on Mickey Mouse charges connected to his taxes. |
| 2323 |
It all looks like nothing for a long time, and then little by little, you get a chunk of sky put together, or a little bit of ocean, and pretty soon enough starts to fit together, and you figure out what you're seeing. Right now, all we have is a piece of sky, a very small piece of it, but I don't like what I'm seeing. |
| 2324 |
They're more dangerous than you can imagine, or want to believe. I think some of them may be watching you, or thinking about you. They may be doing more than thinking. I don't know anything for sure, but the pieces started falling into place for me a few hours ago. And I want to talk to you about it. |
| 2325 |
He's thirty million dollars in debt. Possibly thirty million dollars of other people's money, and more than likely the people he's investing for are not honest, law abiding people. They don't like losing money and will go after him. Things are closing in on him. According to our sources, he's desperate. |
| 2326 |
He embezzled some money, did a lot of stupid stuff, his wife left him, he lost custody and visitation of his kids, and came out here. And made a bigger mess. Eventually, he got arrested for dealing drugs. He was a small time operator fronting for bigger fish, and he took the fall for them. But he deserved it. |
| 2327 |
Sometimes people with the best opportunities do everything in their power to screw them up. He did. He spent just over four years in prison. He had a job working for the warden, who seems to think he's a great guy. I have no idea what his connection is to Addison, but he had Morgan's name written down twice. |
| 2328 |
Now he's living in a second rate hotel in the Tenderloin, with new clothes in his closet. I wouldn't call it a windfall, but he seems to be doing okay. We checked, he has a car, he's paying his rent, he hasn't gotten into trouble since he got out, and he has a job. We don't know about his connection with Addison. |
| 2329 |
I don't know if that rings any bells for you. He's been in prison for murder since he was seventeen years old. He's written a number of articles about his innocence, he tried to get a pardon a few years ago, and didn't. He lost on appeal several times. He finally got out after serving twenty four years. |
| 2330 |
All they see you as, I think, is a cash box they can run off with to solve their problems. If they can get their hands on you, or your kids, they may figure that to you, thirty million dollars, or even fifty, would mean nothing. People like this get delusional, they believe their own fantasies and stories. |
| 2331 |
Who knows what Addison told them, or what they told each other? We can only imagine it. They may figure it's no big deal to you, or there's nothing wrong with it. All they know is violence, and if that's what they have to use to get what they want, they figure it's worth it. They don't think like you and me. |
| 2332 |
Maybe Addison doesn't even know what they have in mind. Sometimes people like him get a ball rolling that gets out of control, and the next thing you know, people are hurt, or worse. I can't show you anything concrete to prove what I think, but I can tell you that something is wrong with this picture. |
| 2333 |
We've managed to keep everything out of the press, for my husband's sake, but we can't cover for him forever. He had lost everything he'd ever made, in fact, he was hundreds of millions of dollars in debt. He committed suicide, or let something happen to him in Mexico, we'll never know, because he couldn't face it. |
| 2334 |
All we have left is this house, and if we're lucky, whatever we sell it for may cover the last of my husband's personal debts, if I'm fortunate enough to get a big price for it and whatever is in it. His attorneys are going to declare bankruptcy on the corporate side, which will get us off the hook. |
| 2335 |
Particularly if what she was saying was true, and she hardly had enough to feed her kids. He and Shirley were in much better shape than she was, and they both had jobs and each other. But what upset him about what she had just told him was that her situation was even more dangerous than he had thought. |
| 2336 |
All our policies have lapsed. We don't even have health insurance right now, although my lawyer is trying to get some for us. And our insurance company told us that they're not going to pay up on Allan's life insurance. The letter he left is too damning, and makes it look like a suicide, which we assume it was. |
| 2337 |
These men are up to something. I don't know what. I don't even know how many of them might be in it, but I think they're cooking up something. These are three very bad guys, and who knows who else they've been talking to. I don't want to panic you, but I think you and your children are in grave danger. |
| 2338 |
She had never enjoyed that, and would have even less now. Jack Waterman had already warned her that there would be a lot of bad press, and curiosity about them, when the news of Allan's financial disaster finally came out, and she was bracing herself for it. He thought it would hit them in the fall. |
| 2339 |
This was actually happening to her, and her children. It was beyond belief, and she hadn't fully understood it yet, and wondered if she ever would. Maybe they were just imagining it. Maybe they were both crazy and had been doing this for too long. Or worst of all, maybe it was really happening and they were right. |
| 2340 |
Both men shook hands with her, and as he walked out, Ted turned to look at her with a reassuring expression. He didn't have the heart to leave without saying something to her. "It'll be all right," he said softly, and then followed Rick down the stairs, as she closed the door behind them and set the alarm. |
| 2341 |
Ted didn't know, but he had a feeling something would happen soon. Maybe Addison's arrest the day before would make them anxious, or even panic. He also had a feeling that Addison's leaving the country had something to do with it. If that was the case, something was going to happen in two days, or anytime thereafter. |
| 2342 |
If she didn't warn them of the potential danger, they might take risks they wouldn't otherwise. "It may be nothing," she tried to reassure them, and as she said the words, Ashley suddenly panicked, fearing her mother might be sick. She was all they had now. But as their mother went on, they knew it wasn't that. |
| 2343 |
They had enough other problems apparently at the moment, and there was still time for that. "They also found in his desk the name and phone number of a man who recently got out of prison. Neither your father nor I know any of these people," she reassured them, and even to her, this sounded crazy as she told it. |
| 2344 |
If anything happens, or it gets worse here, I'll call you. You're safer there, and you'd go crazy stuck in the house with me and Sam. I don't think we're going to be doing much for the next few weeks till this gets sorted out, or they figure out what's really happening. You're much better off in camp, playing lacrosse. |
| 2345 |
The secretary told her that he was in a meeting with the captain, and would call her back. She stood, looking out the window then, thinking about all of it, and wondering if there were people out there, watching her, whom she couldn't see. And as she did, Ted and the captain were shouting at each other. |
| 2346 |
He had already sent an undercover policewoman out, dressed as a meter maid, to check the cars lining Fernanda's street. There were no meters, but cars had to have permit stickers in order to park for longer than two hours, so the meter maid's presence would seem entirely reasonable to anyone who saw her. |
| 2347 |
And he had a junior officer print out a mug shot of Morgan so he could show it to Fernanda and the kids. And then he took a folder out of his desk, and wrote a case number on it, to make it official. Conspiracy to commit kidnap, he wrote in bold letters. He wrote in Fernanda's name, and those of her children. |
| 2348 |
All he had in that piece of sky now was Peter Morgan. But he felt in his gut that the others would be in the puzzle with him before too long. Ted drove back to Fernanda's house at six o'clock that evening. And as he had earlier, he made a decision to enter the house visibly, like a guest, and look casual about it. |
| 2349 |
She and the children were eating pizza in the kitchen when they walked in. They had let Ted in as soon as they saw him through the peephole. And the young man he had brought with him had brought some things with him in an athletic bag slung over his shoulder, which coordinated well with his youthful, athletic demeanor. |
| 2350 |
There wasn't much to smile at right now. Ted had called and told her about Morgan. Apparently, he'd been outside for weeks, and she'd never seen him once. It didn't say much for her powers of observation, and she was worried. Ted had told her that there would be four men at her house shortly after midnight. |
| 2351 |
She knew she had seen him somewhere, but couldn't remember where. And then suddenly, she remembered him. It had either been at the supermarket, or the bookshop. She remembered dropping something and his picking it up, and just as Will had said, it had struck her at the time that he looked like Allan. |
| 2352 |
Ted was driving his own car, and chatted and smiled with the young cop he'd brought with him, trying to propagate the myth that he was a friend bringing his son over to visit. They actually looked convincing. The young policeman looked the same age as her older children and in fact, wasn't too much older. |
| 2353 |
It would be a double edged sword once that happened. The police lost the advantage of anonymity, but it also warned the kidnappers to proceed with caution, or it could scare them off completely, although Ted considered that unlikely. They had no other choice. Fernanda and her family needed protection. |
| 2354 |
And if it scared the man off for good, that was all right too. But above all, she needed a police presence there to protect her and her children. Some of the cops on the detail were probably going to be women, which might create a distraction at first, and make it less obvious that cops were on the scene. |
| 2355 |
They did red ones first, and then black. Will understood why they were being fingerprinted, as did Ashley and Fernanda, but no one wanted to explain it to Sam. It was in case one of them got kidnapped, or killed, with the fingerprints, their bodies could be identified. It was not a cheering prospect. |
| 2356 |
She made as little fuss about it as she could, and thought it seemed less ominous if she did it for them, rather than a stranger. Shortly after that, talking quietly amongst themselves, the children went upstairs. Sam wanted to stay with her, but Will took him by the hand and said he wanted to talk to him. |
| 2357 |
In the case of Will or Ashley, the circumstances that would lead them to need hair or fingerprints would be far more dire. And in this case, with a ransom involved, these kids weren't going to disappear into other lives. They were going to be taken, held, and hopefully returned when the ransom was paid. |
| 2358 |
All Ted could hope, if it happened, was that no one would get harmed, and the kidnappers would keep the kids alive. He was going to do everything he could to see that it didn't happen. But they had to be prepared for all contingencies, and the hair and fingerprints they'd taken were important for them to have. |
| 2359 |
But Sam was too young, and she was going to keep him close to her. Ted had suggested that they go out as little as possible. He wasn't crazy about her being in a car, waiting to be ambushed. They had already discussed whether the officers would ride with her, or follow her. Ted preferred them in the car. |
| 2360 |
And as a result, Ted suggested that if at all possible, she go nowhere. Fernanda called the family hosting Ashley at Tahoe that night, and explained the situation to them, in strictest confidence. They told her how sorry they were, and assured her that they'd keep a close eye on Ashley, and she thanked them. |
| 2361 |
But that night, he had gone home early. She'd been at home all night, as had the kids, and he'd gone back to his hotel. He was almost sorry it was almost over. He liked knowing he was close to her and the children, and loved imagining what they were doing, as he glimpsed them from time to time at the windows. |
| 2362 |
That a bunch of bad guys had a file about them, and one of them had been sitting in a parked car for weeks, watching them? And then what? There was still no concrete evidence that anyone wanted to kidnap them, just endless suspicions. It all sounded insane, even to her. And there was nothing he could do anyway. |
| 2363 |
The officers who arrived at midnight were extremely polite, and after looking around the house, they decided to base themselves in the kitchen. There was coffee and food. She offered to make sandwiches for them, and they told her it wasn't necessary, but they thanked her for her kindness, and settled in. |
| 2364 |
They knew the alarm was on, and she showed them how to work it. Two of them took their jackets off, and she saw their guns hanging in their shoulder holsters, and another on their belt. She suddenly felt as though she were involved in some sort of resistance movement, or underground, surrounded by guerrillas. |
| 2365 |
Seeing their artillery made her feel at the same time vulnerable and protected. No matter how friendly they were, their very presence in the house seemed ominous. And just as she was about to go upstairs, the doorbell rang. Two of the police officers came out of the kitchen rapidly, and went to answer it. |
| 2366 |
The next shift after that would be there from noon to midnight. Which meant that the next day, her children would be having breakfast with men in holsters at their kitchen table. It reminded her of The Godfather, when they went to the mattresses. The only problem was that this was her life, and not a movie. |
| 2367 |
We'll catch these guys doing something stupid. They always do. Like hold up a liquor store right before they were supposed to pull off something much more important. You've got to remember, all these guys were in prison, which tells you that they weren't a great success at whatever they did before this. |
| 2368 |
We're comfortable with the plan we have in place to protect you. But for instance, if an informant tells us they've added more men, or we get information that things could get out of hand. It would have to be somewhere where no one would think to look for you, where we could spirit you away and hide you. |
| 2369 |
Fernanda shook her head in answer to his question. "I sold all our other houses." It reminded him again of the incredible story she had told them that afternoon, of Allan losing all their money. It was still hard for him to believe that anyone could be so foolish and so foolhardy as to lose half a billion dollars. |
| 2370 |
And on the way down from his lofty pinnacle, he didn't want anyone to know it. All that was left now, after his death, were acquaintances she didn't want to confide in. And Jack Waterman, their old friend and attorney. She was planning to tell him what was happening on the weekend, but he had no safe house either. |
| 2371 |
And Fernanda walked slowly up to her bedroom. It had been an endless day for her. She took a long hot bath, and was just climbing into her bed, next to Sam, when she saw a man walk past her room and jumped a foot, as she stood shaking next to her bed, in her nightgown, and the man appeared in the doorway. |
| 2372 |
Sam wanted pancakes, and Will wanted eggs and bacon like the men, so she cooked both. Ashley hadn't woken up yet and was upstairs sleeping. It was still early. Will had to catch the bus at ten o'clock, and she had already discussed with two of the officers whether or not she should go with him to see him off. |
| 2373 |
Peter never saw the other three men go out the back of the house, and cross the neighbor's property, so no one would see them leaving. He left that evening before her guests went home. They seemed to stay forever, and Peter saw no reason to stay. He already knew everything he needed to know about her. |
| 2374 |
He loved being near her, and watching her with her children. It seemed pointless to sit there now while she entertained two couples all day. The two couples had looked benign and friendly when they arrived in one car, talking and laughing. Ted had handpicked them and told them what to wear so they looked like friends. |
| 2375 |
He still had a few things to get for them in the morning, which got him to Fernanda's late. Ashley had already left for Tahoe with her friends, and the shift had changed. By sheer luck, he never saw the cops of the previous shift leave at noon, nor the new ones come in, all through the back door again. |
| 2376 |
He hoped he'd see her again one day. He couldn't imagine what his life would be like now without her. It saddened him, almost as much as what they were about to do to her. He still felt sick at the thought of it. And worrying about it distracted him from any sense that she and the children were being protected. |
| 2377 |
All four of them had been to their parole agents the day before, and as they were on two week check in status now, no one would realize they were gone until they were out of the country. Just as Addison had assured him, Peter in turn had assured them that Fernanda would pay the ransom quickly for her children. |
| 2378 |
All they wanted out of this was their money. They didn't care about her or her kids, one way or the other. It made no difference to them who they took, or why, as long as they got the money. They had already been paid a hundred thousand each in cash. The balance was to be paid to all four of them out of the ransom. |
| 2379 |
The van was gassed up and ready for them. They picked it up at the garage. They were not yet sure at exactly what time they would make their move. They were going to watch for a short while, and pick their moment while things were still quiet in the house. There was no set time schedule, and no hurry. |
| 2380 |
Everything was set up. They had moved the golf bags with the machine guns out of the car into the van. There was rope and plenty of duct tape, and a startling amount of ammo. They shopped for groceries on the way to the garage, and had enough to keep them going for several days. They didn't expect it to last long. |
| 2381 |
She still wanted to talk to him about what was happening, but things were too crazy, and it still seemed too unreal. How could she explain the men camping out in her living room, sitting around the table with holsters in her kitchen? It almost made her feel foolish. Particularly if it turned out to be unnecessary. |
| 2382 |
She had no idea where the men protecting her were, but there was no evidence of them, and no sound from downstairs. She clutched Sam to her and backed up in the bed, as though it would save her and Sam from the men, as one of them wrenched Sam out of her hands without a sound, and she screamed as he took him from her. |
| 2383 |
One of the men was pointing his machine gun at her, and another tossed Sam to the third one. He slung the bag with Sam in it over his shoulder, and there was no sound and no movement, but she knew that nothing they had done to him so far could have killed him. The heavy set man spoke to her again then. |
| 2384 |
The kidnappers had backed up their van to the garage, and no one had seen them do it. They had looked innocuous when they arrived, looking like workmen, went around to the back, broke a window using a towel, unlocked it, and climbed in. They had disabled the alarm and cut the wires before they broke the window pane. |
| 2385 |
The windows of the van had been heavily tinted, and by the time the men took their ski masks off, they had turned the corner, and she saw nothing. She hadn't even seen their license plate and only thought of it afterward. All she could do was watch them drive her son away and pray that they wouldn't kill him. |
| 2386 |
All four of their men were dead, and their deaths had been brutal and ugly. Animals had done it. That was what these men were. Ted felt rage overcome him as he turned to look for her, and ran back into the hallway. There were twenty policemen in the house by then, all shouting and running, and checking for suspects. |
| 2387 |
Ted helped them lay her down on the couch, and took off her shoes before he did it. There was blood on them, and she had tracked it all over the room. There was no point getting it on the couch too. There were police photographers everywhere by then, taking photographs and videos of the crime scene. |
| 2388 |
The general mood was one of outrage. It was late afternoon before they left, and Fernanda was in her room by then. They had put yellow caution tape on the kitchen doorway, indicating that it was a crime scene and had to be left intact, or "sterile" as they called it. Most of the police cars had left. |
| 2389 |
They had explained nothing to the neighbors. And barred all access to the press. The official statement was that an accident had happened. And they took the bodies out the back door, after the press left. The police knew without question that there could be no public statement until they had the boy back. |
| 2390 |
Waters was right. If the kidnapping hit the press along with the murder of four cops, there would be a statewide search on every freeway, on every road, in every corner of the state, and on every border, even more so than just for Sam, which would be bad enough. But killing four cops added a whole new dimension. |
| 2391 |
That was a very different story. It was against his better judgment, but Peter called a central police number, and asked to speak to a sergeant. He knew it didn't matter where he called, whoever he gave the message to would get it into the right hands within seconds. So he passed on what Carl had told him. |
| 2392 |
Details would be released at the appropriate moment, to give the families time to notify their loved ones. It was all they could do, and the simplest and cleanest explanation for the deaths of four law enforcement officers, from two agencies, both city and federal. It was going to be tough to cover. |
| 2393 |
Things had not gone entirely according to plan, and he felt he owed it to Addison to tell him. He didn't tell Carl he was thinking of doing that, although he expected Peter to contact his superiors after what had happened. Waters was still angry at Morgan for his sloppy surveillance, which had led to the problem. |
| 2394 |
He was going to say that his rented house had been broken into, long after they claimed the ransom. Addison had arrived in Cannes the day before, and had just begun enjoying his vacation. He knew what was happening, and the schedule they were on. What he wanted to hear about was good results, not problems. |
| 2395 |
I called the police and left a message. I said that if anything about the dead cops or the kidnapping hit the press, we'd kill the boy. They just issued a press release on the radio that four officers were killed in a high speed chase. There were no other details. And there's no mention of the kidnap. |
| 2396 |
But he knew, as he had from the beginning of this mess, there was no way out. He tried not to think of Fernanda and what she must be going through, as he picked up his bag of toiletries and shaving gear, the two clean shirts and underwear he'd brought in a paper bag, and walked out of the motel ten minutes later. |
| 2397 |
It seemed a lot safer to use a different car than he'd been using while following her for the past month, in case someone in the neighborhood had seen him. Now that Waters and the others had murdered four cops, the risk was greater for all of them, and for Peter, going to Tahoe increased the risks further. |
| 2398 |
Ted had also called the industrial cleaning service they used at homicide scenes, or the one they recommended. They were tearing Fernanda's kitchen apart that night. They even had to pull out the granite and strip the room, thanks to the weapons that had been used and the devastating physical damage they had caused. |
| 2399 |
Ted had been there all day and evening. He never left. He made whatever calls he had to make from his cell phone, while camping out in her living room. And there was a trained negotiator standing by, waiting for the kidnappers' call. There was no question in anyone's mind that it would come. The only question was when. |
| 2400 |
It was nearly nine o'clock at night when she came downstairs, looking gray. She hadn't eaten or had anything to drink all day. Ted had asked her a few times, and then finally he had left her alone. She needed some time to herself. He was there for her, if she wanted him. He didn't want to intrude on her. |
| 2401 |
He had called Shirley a few minutes before, and told her what had happened, and that he was going to spend the night with his men. He wanted to keep an eye on things. She said she understood. In the old days, when he was on a stakeout, or working undercover in his youth, sometimes he'd been gone for weeks. |
| 2402 |
Their crazy lives and schedules had essentially kept them apart for years, and it showed. Sometimes she felt she hadn't been married to him in years, not since the kids were small, or even before that. She did what she wanted, had her own friends, her own life. And so did he. It happened a lot to cops and their wives. |
| 2403 |
There was no point paying ransom for a dead kid. Ted did not say that to her. He just sat there, looking at her, as she stared at him. She felt dead inside. And looked it outwardly. Her face was somewhere between gray and green, and she looked sick. Several neighbors had asked what had happened earlier. |
| 2404 |
Hers hadn't either, in a way. Allan had chosen to bail out rather than face his responsibilities, and left her with a mess, rather than trying to clean it up himself. Instead, he had left her to do it. That had been occurring to her more and more recently. It had occurred to Ted too. And now she had to face this. |
| 2405 |
They had all they needed now with Sam. She lay on the rug in the living room, and didn't say anything. Ted sat near her, writing reports, and glancing at her occasionally. He went to check on his men, and after a while, she fell asleep. She was lying there asleep on the floor when he got back. He left her there. |
| 2406 |
He lay down on the couch himself sometime around midnight, and dozed for a few hours. It was still dark when he woke up and heard her crying, lying on the floor, too grief stricken to move. He didn't say a word to her, he just sat down on the floor next to her and held her, and she lay in his arms and cried for hours. |
| 2407 |
Essentially, Jack was saying the same thing. He told her he would send the papers over for her to sign the next day. And a few minutes later, he left. She wandered into the kitchen, and saw the men drinking coffee. She had sworn she would never go into the room again, but she just had. It was almost unrecognizable. |
| 2408 |
Even in the midst of the agony she was living through, there was something peaceful and reassuring about him. One of the men handed her a cup of coffee, and offered her a box of doughnuts, and she took one and ate half of it, before she threw it away. It was the first thing she had eaten in two days. |
| 2409 |
No one asked. They made small talk in the kitchen, and after a while, she went upstairs and lay on her bed. She saw the negotiator walk past her open door to Ashley's room. She never took her clothes off anymore, except to shower. It was like living in an armed encampment, and everywhere around her were men with guns. |
| 2410 |
She didn't realize it until she went downstairs and saw the paper one of the men had left on the table, it was the Fourth of July. It wasn't a Sunday, but all she knew as she sat and looked at the sunrise was that she wanted to go to church, and knew she couldn't. She couldn't leave the house in case they called. |
| 2411 |
She liked taking the children to church on Sundays, but they had objected to going since Allan died. And she had been so disheartened that she hadn't gone much lately herself. But she knew she wanted to see a priest now. She wanted someone to talk to and to pray with her, and she felt as though she'd forgotten how. |
| 2412 |
He just stayed at the house with her. He had brought clothes with him. She knew some of the men were hot bunking in Will's bedroom. They took turns sleeping one at a time, while the others kept watch over the house, the phones, and her. As many as four or five men used the bed in shifts in any twenty four hour period. |
| 2413 |
They spoke for a few minutes, and then he followed Ted upstairs. She was lying on her bed and he knocked on the open door. She sat up and stared at Ted, wondering who the other man was. He was wearing sandals, a sweatshirt, and jeans. She had been lying there, willing the kidnappers to call, when he walked in. |
| 2414 |
Fernanda led the young priest to a small sitting room off her bedroom and invited him to sit down. She wasn't sure what to say to him, and asked him if he knew what happened. He said he did. He told her then that he had played pro football for two years after college, and then decided to become a priest. |
| 2415 |
But he helped me a lot when a friend of mine died, and I just couldn't make sense of it. The guy had six kids, and his wife was pregnant with another one. He was killed by a homeless man who stabbed him for no reason, and just left him there to die. No act of bravery, no hero's death. Just a lunatic and a knife. |
| 2416 |
Peter couldn't help wondering how she was doing, and how badly shaken up she was. Having watched how close she was to her children, he knew what it must be doing to her. But the boy was in remarkably good shape, particularly after the trauma he'd been through, and a four hour ride tied up in a canvas bag. |
| 2417 |
Sam didn't know where he was, and he was afraid of the men who had kidnapped him, including Peter. He took him to the bathroom, and waited while he went, and carried him back again and left him on the bed. He couldn't do more for him. But he covered him with a blanket before he left, and Sam watched him leave. |
| 2418 |
He rapidly became the official baby sitter. The others were happy not to do it. They wanted their money, not baby sitting for a six year old kid. And in an odd way, Peter felt as though he was doing it for Fernanda, and knew he was. He sat with the boy for a while that afternoon, and came back again that night. |
| 2419 |
Peter was profoundly worried, thought about it all day, and what it might mean to him, and the others. And worse yet, Sam. They sat around for two more days, and then finally decided to call her. All four of them agreed that it was time. They used Peter's untraceable cell phone, and he dialed her number. |
| 2420 |
Peter was afraid that, to reassure her, Sam would say he had been nice to him, and he didn't want the others to hear it. Peter took the phone back, and spoke clearly to her. He sounded well spoken and cool, which surprised her. From what she'd seen in her house four days before, she expected them to be goons. |
| 2421 |
Maybe she could cough up a million or two, if that. But from what Sam was saying about her debts, and his father's suicide, Peter even wondered if she had that. And even a couple of million divided five ways was pointless. The other three got drunk that night, and he sat talking to Sam again for a long time. |
| 2422 |
It was the only choice they had now. But they hadn't been able to get a trace on the line. He cut it off too fast anyway, although with the device they had, they could have, if he'd been calling from a traceable line. But he was using a cell phone that couldn't be traced. It was one of the few that couldn't. |
| 2423 |
Investigators were combing the state, but so far, no one had reported seeing anything suspicious, the police were looking for the men in the mug shots, but no one had seen them, and there had been no sign of Sam, or anything he owned or had been wearing. The boy had disappeared without a trace and so had they. |
| 2424 |
He was lying on the couch, with his eyes open, thinking. The rest of the men were in the kitchen, talking, with their guns in evidence, as they always were. It was like some strange kind of emergency room, or intensive care unit, where people stayed awake all night, wearing guns and waiting to minister to her. |
| 2425 |
There was no longer any clear definition to day or night. It was all the same. There were always people on cell phones, and wide awake. She sat down in a chair next to Ted, and looked at him with a despairing glance. She was beginning to lose hope. She didn't have the money, and the police hadn't found her son. |
| 2426 |
The voice on the phone told her that if she wanted a conversation with her son, she was going to have to pay the ransom. They gave her five days to come up with it, and told her they'd give her delivery instructions the next time they called, and hung up again. Listening to them this time, she was frantic. |
| 2427 |
The last call from the kidnappers came to tell Fernanda she had two days left to deliver the money. And this time they sounded impatient. They didn't let her talk to Sam, and at her end, everyone knew time was running out. Or maybe already had. It was time to make a move, but there was none to make. |
| 2428 |
With no leads whatsoever as to their whereabouts, there was nothing the police could do. They were working every source they had to beat the clock, but without a lead, a tip, a trace, or a sighting they were getting nowhere. Peter explained the delivery instructions to Fernanda when they gave her the two day ultimatum. |
| 2429 |
In fact, if they didn't get their money, they thought it a suitable revenge. The boy meant less to them than a bottle of tequila or a pair of shoes. They didn't even care that Sam had seen them and could identify them. The unholy threesome were planning to disappear into the wilds of South America forever. |
| 2430 |
They had illegal passports waiting for them just north of the Mexican border. All they had to do was get there, pick them up, disappear, and live like kings for the rest of their days. But she had to pay the ransom first. And hour by hour, day by day, Peter came to understand that Sam had told the truth. |
| 2431 |
Nor did Fernanda. He would have liked to ask her, but he could only assume someone was telling her what to do. Jack had already told her that the biggest loan he could get for her, against the house, was an additional mortgage for seven hundred thousand dollars, which she couldn't support the payments on anyway. |
| 2432 |
And if he did, they'd kill Peter too. When Peter walked back into the living room, they were all particularly unhappy about the lack of beer, as well as the delay in her coming up with the ransom. Finally, Peter offered to go into town for them and buy some. He had the kind of looks that never drew attention. |
| 2433 |
They nominated him to make a beer run, and told him to bring back some tequila and Chinese food too. They were sick of their own cooking, and so was he. Peter drove into town and past it on the fateful beer run. He drove through three more towns, thinking about what he was going to do. There was no question. |
| 2434 |
And from all he knew now, the ransom was a lost cause. The only decision left was whether to let them kill Sam or not. And just as he had risked his life in this to save his own children, he knew now what he had to do for Sam. He pulled over in the van, near a campsite, and picked up his cell phone. |
| 2435 |
All she seemed to care about with real passion were her kids. More than anything, he was impressed by what a good mother she was. And she had probably been a good wife to Allan too, more than he deserved, as far as Ted was concerned. But he didn't say that to her. He didn't think it was appropriate for him to do so. |
| 2436 |
But as far as he was concerned, he hadn't done it yet. And he knew that if things went badly in Tahoe, and Sam was killed, more than likely she'd never want to see him again. He would be part of the memory of a nightmarish time. And perhaps already was. But he knew that if he never saw her again, he'd be sad. |
| 2437 |
Stark wanted to call Fernanda back that afternoon and threaten her. Waters said they should wait till that night. And Peter cautiously suggested that they give her one last day to get the money together, and call tomorrow. Jim Free didn't seem to care, all he wanted to do was get his money and get the hell out. |
| 2438 |
When Ted and Fernanda got to Tahoe, the local police had taken over a small motel for the entire task force. It was run down and ramshackle, and had been empty for the most part, even during the summer season. The few guests staying there had been content to leave with a small stipend paid to get them out. |
| 2439 |
The local cops were swarming, but had not yet been advised of exactly what was happening. There were more than fifty men waiting when Ted got out of the car and looked around. They were going to have to handpick who went in and how they did it. A local captain was handling equipment, road blocks, and local officers. |
| 2440 |
They had no way of contacting Peter Morgan to set up a plan with him. They were going to have to make all their decisions on their own, for better or worse. Ted was relieved that Fernanda wasn't in the room with them to listen to the dangers they were outlining. It would have driven her over the edge. |
| 2441 |
Ted wasn't convinced that wouldn't have happened anyway. With no ransom forthcoming, it was almost certain that they were planning to kill Sam. Even with the ransom successfully delivered, there had been that risk. Sam was old enough to identify them, which made it risky to let him go, even if they got their money. |
| 2442 |
It would leave the rescuers vulnerable to open fire from the house. Peter had picked the perfect place. It was damn near impossible to get the boy out of the house and off the property, and one thing Rick already knew, and Ted was coming to understand, a lot of men were liable to die that night, rescuing one boy. |
| 2443 |
It wasn't going well, and he was glad Fernanda wasn't in the room to hear it. At nine o'clock that night, he and Rick walked outside. They still didn't have a plan that worked, and he was beginning to fear they never would, or not in time. They had all agreed hours earlier they had to get Sam out by dawn. |
| 2444 |
No one had come up with anything that worked. They were sending the plane up for reconnaissance in another hour, using infrared and heat seeking devices, neither of which would work inside the house. One of the communications trucks was devoted entirely to them. "I hate this too," Rick said quietly. |
| 2445 |
You've been staying at her house for a week. You didn't have to do that, and you did. You're also a guy who hasn't slept with his wife for about five years, if my memory is correct on that, since the last time we talked about it. You're human, for God's sake. Just don't let it interfere with your job. |
| 2446 |
Shirley's father had been his father's boss for most of his adult life, and they were so proud of him when he got engaged to her. He'd never gone out with other girls. Never thought of it. Until way too late. And then, out of sheer decency, he'd been faithful to her, and still was, which was rare for a cop. |
| 2447 |
Their stressful lives and crazy schedules, rarely seeing their wives and families, or being on the same time clock with them, got them into a lot of trouble, and nearly had Ted a couple of times. Rick had always admired him for his iron will, iron pants he used to call it, when they worked together. |
| 2448 |
She was just lazy, and she said it herself, although she loved him too. But she had said several times recently that she wouldn't have minded living alone, might have preferred it, and felt as though she did anyway, as little as they saw each other. And he felt that way too. It was a lonely life with her. |
| 2449 |
He wouldn't have dared, or even wanted to, in the circumstances in which they'd met. And he had no idea if she felt anything for him, except for the job he was doing for her, in trying to protect her and her kids. And with Sam having gotten kidnapped anyway, it was certainly no victory for him, in his eyes at least. |
| 2450 |
Ted particularly. He liked hearing what Rick thought, about all of it. He had unlimited respect for him. Rick followed him back inside, thinking about what Ted had admitted to him, and as soon as they walked in the door of the command post, they both got swept up in the discussions and arguments again. |
| 2451 |
Ted left the office at one o'clock and headed toward Fernanda's room, to see how she was doing. She was alone in the room when he walked past. The door was closed, but he could see through the window that the lights were on, and she was lying on the bed, her eyes were open, and she was staring into space. |
| 2452 |
Her phone lines were being forwarded to a communications truck outside. "What's happening?" she asked anxiously, and he was quick to reassure her. The hours since they'd gotten there had seemed interminable to her, and to all of them. The teams were itching to get going, and tackle what they had come here to do. |
| 2453 |
Ted was sure there was no way he could call them. He had done all he could do. And if they managed to save Sam at all, it would be in great part thanks to him. Without his lead, the boy would be dead for sure. Now it was up to them to take the ball he'd handed them and run like hell. And they would. |
| 2454 |
In fact, one of their commandos sitting on top of a hill with infrared telescopic binoculars said that the house had been dark for hours. Ted hoped they'd all still be sleeping when they got there. The element of surprise was essential, even if it meant no help from Peter. That would have been too much to ask for. |
| 2455 |
There was no way he could allow her to. It was far too dangerous, he couldn't let her do it. If things went wrong, she could get caught in crossfire, or hit with rifle or machine gun fire if the kidnappers tried to escape, and hit the nest with a blaze of fire on their way out. It was impossible to predict. |
| 2456 |
It was her son they were risking their lives for. And she wanted to be psychically linked to him when they went, willing him to live. Ted nodded, and promised to advise her when the teams moved out, and then she looked panicked. She had come to rely on him. He was her guide through the unfamiliar jungles of fear. |
| 2457 |
It was going to be a long night for both of them, and there was no way that she was going to sleep. Her child's life was on the line, and if the worst happened, she wanted to at least spend the night thinking of him. She couldn't even imagine what she was going to tell the other children, if something happened. |
| 2458 |
Ashley didn't even know that Sam had been kidnapped. And after losing their father six months before, she couldn't begin to imagine the blow it would be to them if Sam was killed. She had talked to Will a few hours before. He was trying to be strong, but by the end of the conversation, they were both in tears. |
| 2459 |
They all needed the caffeine as they formulated their plans. And now probably most of them were finding it impossible to sleep. Everyone was living on adrenaline. Fernanda was just functioning on anxiety and terror, as she sat wide eyed on the bed looking at him, wondering if life would ever be normal again. |
| 2460 |
Ted passed Fernanda's room on the way out, and saw that she had woken up and was wandering around the room. She came to the door the moment she saw him and stood looking at him. Her eyes were begging him to take her along, and he squeezed her shoulder gently with one hand as their eyes met and held. |
| 2461 |
He didn't recognize her at first, and then realized who it was. It was Fernanda wearing the gear of one of the scouts. She had actually gotten herself there and had conned someone into believing she was a member of the local police, and they had handed her the gear. She'd put it on at lightning speed. |
| 2462 |
Peter lay sleeping next to Sam until five o'clock that morning, and then as though some deep primal instinct told him to wake up, he opened his eyes and slowly stirred. Sam was still asleep beside him, with his head on Peter's shoulder. And the same inexplicable intuition told him to untie Sam's hands and feet. |
| 2463 |
And he knew that soon the sun would be coming up over the hill. Another day. Endless hours of waiting. He knew that they were going to call Fernanda, and kill the boy if she didn't have the money for them. They still thought she was holding out on them and playing games. Killing the boy meant nothing to them. |
| 2464 |
And by the same token, if they had any idea what he'd done, nor would killing him. He no longer cared. He had traded his life for Sam's. If he was able to escape with him, it would be a mercy, but he didn't expect that to happen. Trying to flee with the boy might slow them down and put Sam at greater risk. |
| 2465 |
He opened the window soundlessly and squinted into darkness, watching them lower themselves down until they disappeared. He put a hand over Sam's mouth so he didn't cry out, and gently moved him, until the child's eyes opened and Peter saw that he was awake. As soon as Sam looked at him, he put a finger to his lips. |
| 2466 |
He didn't know what was happening, but he knew that whatever it was, Peter was going to help him. He lay totally still on the bed, and realized that Peter had untied him, and he could move his hands and feet freely for the first time in days. Neither of them moved, and then Peter went back to the window. |
| 2467 |
He didn't want to do anything to risk Sam. As Sam crawled across the dirt and into the bushes, he had no idea where he was going. He just went in the direction that Peter had pointed, and as two hands reached out and grabbed him, he was pulled into the brush with such speed and force, it took his breath away. |
| 2468 |
He looked up at his new captors, and whispered to the man who held him with blackened face and black nylon skullcap, "Are you bad guys or good guys?" The man who was holding him tightly to his chest nearly cried, he was so relieved to see him. It had gone like clockwork so far, but they still had a long way to go. |
| 2469 |
He got a faceful of dirt, as long pink and yellow fingers began to streak across the sky. The sun hadn't come up yet, but the men knew it wouldn't be long. They had already ruled out the possibility of pulling Sam back up the rock face on ropes, it would leave him too exposed to gunfire if his absence were discovered. |
| 2470 |
The sound Peter had heard was one of the men going to the bathroom. He heard the toilet flush, and then a swear word as whoever it was stubbed his toe on his way back to bed. And a few minutes later, he heard one of the others. Peter lay very still on the empty bed, and then decided to get up himself. |
| 2471 |
Fernanda and Ted heard the sounds where they were sitting. They had no radio contact with the commandos. Fernanda squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed Ted's hand. There was no way for them to know what had happened, all they could do was wait. They had lookouts watching for them, but they had seen nothing yet. |
| 2472 |
The trial was only going to be a formality, if there even was one. If they pled guilty, it would be simpler for everyone, although Ted knew they weren't likely to do that. They would drag it out as long as they could, and file endless appeals, just to live one more day in prison, for whatever that was worth to them. |
| 2473 |
Frightened neighbors who'd been awakened by machine gun fire at dawn clogged the road, straining to see what had happened, and asking for explanations. The police tried to reassure everyone, and attempted to keep traffic moving. Ted looked exhausted when he got back to the motel, and went to see Sam in Fernanda's room. |
| 2474 |
He was smiling up at her, had a humongous hamburger on a plate next to him, and was watching TV. And literally every cop and agent in the place had come in to see him and talk to him, or just ruffle his hair and leave again. They had laid their lives on the line for him, and lost friends to him. He was worth it. |
| 2475 |
She was only a few miles away, and Fernanda was going to leave her with her friends for a few days till things calmed down. She had never even known Sam was gone. Fernanda had decided not to upset her, until after it was over. She was going to tell her what happened when she got home. It had been better this way. |
| 2476 |
Now that the heat of the moment was over, he was still loyal to Shirley. And Fernanda had her own life and problems to deal with. It was an easy, uneventful drive home. The paramedics and the doctors at the hospital had found Sam to be in surprisingly good shape, considering the ordeal he'd been through. |
| 2477 |
Nothing had been normal for so long that they had forgotten what it felt like. Ted carried Sam up to his room, and laid him gently on the bed, as Fernanda took off his sneakers. He made a gentle snuffling sound, and turned over on his side, without waking, as Ted and Fernanda stood looking down at him. |
| 2478 |
She had learned that lesson. "Get some rest," Ted admonished her, and she nodded. It was silly of her, she knew, but she hated to see him go. She had gotten used to talking to him late at night, knowing she would find him there at any hour, and sleeping on the floor next to him, when she could sleep nowhere else. |
| 2479 |
She realized that now. "I'll call you," he promised again, as she closed the door, wondering how she would ever thank him. The house seemed empty when she walked upstairs. There were no sounds, no men, no guns, no cell phones ringing in every corner of the house, no negotiator listening on her lines. |
| 2480 |
She was either at work, or out with her friends, most of whom he didn't know. There was a deafening silence in the house, and for the first time in a long time, he felt agonizingly lonely. He missed seeing Ashley and Will, Fernanda coming to talk to him, the familiar ease of being surrounded by his men, on a stakeout. |
| 2481 |
But Ted had the feeling, reading it, that Fernanda had had a hand in it. And he wondered if that was what she had been doing with Jack, and why she looked somewhat upset. He didn't blame her, but it was better to get the word out. So far they had managed to keep everything about the kidnap out of the press. |
| 2482 |
But no date had been set, and wouldn't be for a while. Both Stark and Free were already back in prison, after their parole was revoked when they were apprehended. Sam was remarkably cooperative with Ted. It was amazing what he remembered, in spite of the traumatic circumstances, and what he had observed. |
| 2483 |
It wasn't the birthday she would have anticipated a year before, but it was all she wanted this year. To be with her children. Shortly after that, she told them they had to sell the house. Ashley and Will were shocked, and Sam wasn't. He already knew, as he had confessed to her, from eavesdropping on her conversations. |
| 2484 |
Their life had a transitional quality to it, once she made the announcement to them. Ash said it was humiliating for her now at school, once everyone knew her father had lost all his money, and there were girls who no longer wanted to be friends with her, which Will said was disgusting. He was a senior that year. |
| 2485 |
But late at night, she often did, and Will saw it. He offered to get a job after school, to try and help her. She was worrying about college for him. Fortunately, he had good grades and qualified for the University of California system, although she knew she'd still have to scare up enough to pay for the dorm. |
| 2486 |
She had never been as broke as she was at that moment. And it scared her. Jack took her to lunch one day, and tried to talk to her about it. He said he hadn't wanted to approach her too soon, or offend her right after Allan died, and then there was the kidnapping, and all of them had been so upset, understandably. |
| 2487 |
As long as they were still at home, she wanted to be there for them too. Although she knew other mothers managed with sitters and day care and latchkey kids, if she could help it, she didn't want to. She still wanted to be with her kids, as much as she could. She had a lot of decisions to make once the house sold. |
| 2488 |
The rest didn't. And money, to whatever degree, was unimportant to her, except to feed her children. She had been planning to strip the house, and sell whatever she could at auction. But as it turned out, the buyers loved everything she had and paid a huge premium for it, over and above the price of the house. |
| 2489 |
Ashley cried. Sam looked sad. And as always these days, Will was an enormous help to his mother. He carried boxes, loaded things, and he was with her the day she found the new house. She actually had enough left over to buy something small, and put a hefty mortgage on it, after the sale of the house. |
| 2490 |
And the children loved it when they saw it. She decided to put Ashley and Sam in public school in Marin, and Will was going to commute for the remaining months of school until he graduated. Two weeks after they moved into the house, she found a job, as curator of a gallery five minutes from her house. |
| 2491 |
And sometimes, when she thought of it, she thought it was both sad and funny. He had seemed so incredibly pompous when he asked her. She had never seen that side of him before. What didn't seem funny to her, and never would, was the memory of the kidnapping the previous summer. She still had nightmares about it. |
| 2492 |
It seemed surreal to her, and it was one of the many things she didn't mind about leaving their old house. She could never sleep in it again without an overwhelming feeling of panic that something terrible was about to happen. She slept better in Sausalito. And she hadn't heard from Ted since the previous September. |
| 2493 |
But it had been worse for him. She called the trauma therapist, and she and Sam went in. They talked about his being unable to testify, or it being unwise for him. But in the end, he said he would, and the therapist thought it might give him closure. Fernanda was far more afraid it would give him nightmares. |
| 2494 |
But Fernanda felt sick and looked at Ted, and he looked as unhappy as she did, and then he had an idea. He told them to go across the street for something to drink, and he'd be back as soon as he could. It took him twenty minutes. He had met with the judge, the public defender, and the prosecutor, and all had agreed. |
| 2495 |
Sam and his mother were going to be interrogated in the judge's chambers, with the jury present, but not the defendants. He never had to see either of the two men again. He could identify them from pictures. Ted had insisted that it was too traumatic for the boy to testify in the courtroom and see his kidnappers again. |
| 2496 |
They didn't have time to go too far, but Ted could tell they both needed to get away, and Sam and his mother were quiet over their pasta. It had been a difficult morning, which brought back a lot of painful memories for Sam, and Fernanda worried about the impact on him. But he seemed to be all right, just quiet. |
| 2497 |
And identified both defendants from the photographs the prosecution had shown him. Fernanda couldn't identify the men who'd taken her son, while wearing ski masks, but her testimony about the actual kidnapping was deeply moving and her description of the four men murdered in her kitchen was horrifying. |
| 2498 |
Everything he had said had been brutally damning for the defense. There was no question in Ted's mind that the two men were going to be convicted, and he felt certain that however grandmotherly the judge looked, she was going to give them the death penalty at the sentencing. It was a sobering thought. |
| 2499 |
Ted had told her that Phillip Addison was being tried separately in a federal court, for conspiracy to commit kidnap, and all his federal charges, including tax evasion, money laundering, and drug smuggling. He would be going away for a long time, and it was unlikely that Sam would have to testify again in his case. |
| 2500 |
Rick wanted Addison put away for good, or if possible put to death. It had been a serious matter, and as Ted did, he wanted to see justice served. Fernanda was relieved. It was good to have the whole ugly business behind them. With the trial no longer hanging over them, the nightmare was finally over. |
| 2501 |
And then she thought of something they'd been talking about for a long time. "When are you coming to dinner?" She owed him so much for all his kindness to them, and dinner was the least she could do. She had missed seeing him in recent months, although it was a sign that all was well in both their lives. |
| 2502 |
She had grown about three inches in the past year, and Ted looked startled when he saw her. At thirteen, she suddenly looked not like a child, but like a woman. She was wearing a short denim skirt, a pair of her mother's sandals, and a T shirt, and she was a very pretty girl, and looked nearly like Fernanda's twin. |
| 2503 |
As he walked in, Fernanda stuck her head out of the kitchen, and offered him a glass of wine, which he declined. He didn't drink much, even when he was off duty, which he was all the time now. And as Fernanda disappeared into the kitchen again, Will strolled in, and was obviously happy to see Ted as they shook hands. |
| 2504 |
She had made a roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, mashed potatoes, vegetables, and chocolate cake and ice cream for dessert. The kids were impressed by the trouble she'd gone to, and so was Ted. It was a terrific meal. They were still sitting at the table, talking afterward, when the kids got up and went to their rooms. |
| 2505 |
Most nights now, he worked late, went to the gym, and came home close to midnight. He rarely even stopped for dinner. He went to a diner sometimes in the daytime. "I haven't had a home cooked meal in years." Shirley had always hated to cook, and preferred getting take out from her parents' restaurant. |
| 2506 |
In some ways, he still felt married to her. "Did something specific happen?" Fernanda looked sorry for him, and sympathetic. She knew how loyal he was to his wife, and how much he valued the marriage, even though he had admitted that things weren't perfect between them, and he had said they were very different people. |
| 2507 |
But it pointed out to me that we don't have much anymore. We didn't for a long time, but I thought we should stay married anyway. I didn't think it was right for us to get divorced when the kids were small. Anyway, I thought about it while she was gone, and I asked her how she felt about it when she came back. |
| 2508 |
He couldn't get enough of her now, and wished he hadn't waited so long. He had spent months not calling her, thinking he wasn't good enough, or rich enough for her. He realized now that he should have known better. She was more than that. She was real. And he had known ever since the kidnapping that he loved her. |
| 2509 |
This was the magic she had been telling Jack about, that he had never understood. It was the right kind of compliment from God, not like the other one... the easy kind that soothed all the old wounds of loss, and terror, and tragedy. This was the happiness they had both dreamed of, and hadn't had in a long time. |
| 2510 |
Things were different now. He had a normal life finally. If he wanted to, he could leave his office and go home at night, if he had reason to. No more crazy hours or swing shifts. He was just about to kiss her good night, when Ashley sauntered by, and gave them a knowing look. But she didn't seem to disapprove. |
| 2511 |
And he was the magic she had dreamed of, and thought she wouldn't find again. He kissed her one last time, and hurried down the stairs to his car with a last wave to her. She was still standing in the doorway smiling when he drove away. He was halfway across the bridge, grinning to himself, when his cell phone rang. |
| 2512 |
There were fat peasants crowded everywhere, and skinny children, and seedy looking businessmen and hordes of American GI's. There was a sad, musty smell in the train, like a house that hasn't been cleaned in years and years, and added to that the ripe smell of tired bodies, long unwashed, unkempt, unloved. |
| 2513 |
The wheels of the train chattered out her thoughts as she lay huddled in a corner, her eyes closed, her face pressed against the glass. She was tired. God, she was tired. Every inch of her body ached now, even her arms, as she hugged them tightly around her, as though she were cold, which she was not. |
| 2514 |
She had been traveling now for almost nine days in all. It had been an endless journey, and she wasn't home yet. She kept thinking of home, reminding herself of it over and over. She had forced herself not to let out a whoop of joy as they crossed the Alps and she knew that she was back in Italy at last. |
| 2515 |
But this was only the beginning. In fact, she reminded herself again as she opened her eyes slowly in the glare of lights from the station, for her the journey hadn't even begun. It wouldn't begin until sometime the next morning, when she reached her destination, and then she would see, she would find out. |
| 2516 |
It had the translucence of white marble. Yet it was not a face one would have dared to touch. Despite her obvious youth and beauty, there was nothing inviting about her, nothing beckoning, nothing warm. She had surrounded herself with an aura of distance that carefully masked tenderness and vulnerability. |
| 2517 |
In spite of the ugly, wrinkled clothes she wore, she was striking. And yet, if one looked beyond that first glance, one could not help but see pain. One of the GI's had noticed it as he watched her, and now as he took a last drag on his cigarette and dropped it on the platform, he found his eyes drawn toward her again. |
| 2518 |
Serena could not pass for a peasant, no matter what she wore; Her carriage gave her away almost instantly, the way she moved, the way she turned her head, like a young gazelle, bounding with grace. There was something almost too beautiful about Serena. It almost hurt to look at her for too long a time. |
| 2519 |
She had an extraordinary grace about her. As though she were someone important. And she was. "Scusi," she whispered again softly as she made her way down the aisle and back into her seat, where she let out a soft sigh and leaned her head back again, but this time she did not close her eyes. There was no point. |
| 2520 |
Even the sound of Italian being spoken around her was a relief now. The countryside outside the train window was so familiar, so comfortable, so much a part of her, even now, after four years of living with the nuns in the convent in Upstate New York. Getting there four years before had been another endless journey. |
| 2521 |
At fourteen she had already lived through two years of war and loss and fear. Not so much her own fear as everyone else's. The adults had lived with constant terror of Mussolini. The children had tried at first to pretend that they didn't care. But one had to care. Sooner or later, events made you care. |
| 2522 |
They hadn't killed him then though. They had waited until the next day, and shot him along with half a dozen others in the courtyard of the Palazzo Venezia, where Mussolini was headquartered. Serena's mother had been there when they shot him, begging, pleading, screaming, crying, while the soldiers laughed. |
| 2523 |
The Principessa di San Tibaldo crawling as she begged them, as the men in uniform taunted her, teased her. One had grabbed her by the hair, kissed her roughly, and then spat and threw her to the ground. And it was all over moments later. Serena's father had hung limply from the post where they had tied him. |
| 2524 |
The palazzo was his now, she told him as she stood for a last moment in the brilliantly lit black and white marble hallway. She wished never to see him, or the house, again. He was no longer her son, he was a stranger, and for a last moment she had gazed at him with tears filling the wise old eyes once more. |
| 2525 |
It had taken several weeks to find the solution, but when the bishop quietly suggested it to her, she knew that she had no choice. Quietly, that night, after dinner, she had told Serena about the plan. The child had cried at first, and begged her, pleaded not to send her away, and surely not so far away as that. |
| 2526 |
She could barely choke out the words. The old woman nodded silently and kissed Serena one last time, and then, nodding to the two women and the nuns, she stepped gracefully backward and the nuns put their arms around Serena and began to lead her away. She would walk for several miles that night to their convent. |
| 2527 |
Everyone and everything. Her parents, her uncle, her grandmother, her home, and at last her country. There was nothing left. She had stood on deck, a solitary figure in brown and gray, with the wind whipping the long sheets of pale blond hair around her head. The nuns had watched her, saying nothing at all. |
| 2528 |
At first they had been afraid that she might do something desperate, but in time they came to understand her. You could learn a lot about the child simply from watching her. She had an extraordinary sort of dignity about her. One sensed her strength and her pride and at the same time her sorrow and her loss. |
| 2529 |
There were others in the group of children going to the States who had suffered losses similar to Serena's, two of the children had lost both parents and all their brothers and sisters in air raids, several had lost at least one parent, all had lost beloved friends. But Serena had lost something more. |
| 2530 |
Not the servants, not the soldiers, not the government. No one. And now the one person she could count on was nowhere near. When one looked into the deep green eyes, one saw a bottomless sorrow that tore at one's heart, a grief beyond measure, a despair visible in children's eyes only in times of war. |
| 2531 |
But the others had acquired a kind of ease about them, as though they had come from nowhere more exotic than Poughkeepsie, as though they knew nothing of war and had no real fears. The fears were there, and at times, at night, there were nightmares, but on the whole they were an oddly happy go lucky group. |
| 2532 |
There was really no reason to think that something was wrong. Except for the silence... which continued, unexplained. The letter to Marcella was returned to Serena four weeks after she wrote it, unopened and undelivered, with a scrawled note from the postman that Marcella Fabiani did not live at that address anymore. |
| 2533 |
She wrote to the foreman, and the letter came back marked "Deceased." For the first weeks and then months, she had felt panic stricken and desperate, but in time the terror ebbed into a dull pain. Something had happened, of that there was no doubt, but there seemed to be no way to get an explanation. |
| 2534 |
There was still enough money for her to do that. When Serena had left, her grandmother had pressed on her a fat roll of American bills. She had no idea how the old woman had got the American money, but it had amounted to a thousand dollars when Serena counted it out quietly, alone in the bathroom the next day. |
| 2535 |
And every night, as she lay in her bed, thinking, she planned to use the money to get back to Italy the moment the war was over. She would go straight to Venice and find out, and if something had happened to the old woman, because of Sergio, she would go directly to Rome immediately thereafter and kill him. |
| 2536 |
A few gondolas bobbed at the landing, and a fleet of random boats hovered near the quay, drivers shouted to prospective passengers, and suddenly everything was in frantic motion around her, and as she watched it Serena smiled for the first time in days. It was a smile she hadn't felt in her heart for years. |
| 2537 |
Nothing had changed and everything had. War had come and gone, a holocaust had happened, she had lost everyone, and so had countless others, and yet here it was as it had been for centuries, in all its golden splendor, Venice. Serena smiled to herself, and then as she hurried along with the others, she laughed softly. |
| 2538 |
Whatever she was looking for, he hoped she found it. They were only a few hundred feet from the house now, and Serena had already sighted it. She saw the shutters falling from their hinges, boards over a few of the windows, and the narrow canal lapping at the stone steps just beneath the iron grille on the landing. |
| 2539 |
She hated him. She wanted him to choke on his title, to rot in his own blood, to die a far more horrible death than her father, to... "Signorina?" The gondolier had watched her face contort with anger and anguish, and he wondered what agony had seized her soul to make someone so young look so tormented. |
| 2540 |
She nodded, and he helped her back into the gondola and pushed slowly away from the landing, as her eyes held interminably to the facade she would always remember and never come back to see again. This would be her last journey to Venice. She knew that now. She had no reason to come back. Not anymore. |
| 2541 |
But still, the reality of it was almost intolerable and two lone tears traveled down her cheeks to the delicately carved chin. She stood up a moment later and went into the office at the back of the church, to attempt to find the priest. There was an old man in a priest's robe sitting there when she entered. |
| 2542 |
Titles, names, rank, money. All that mattered to Serena was that her grandmother was dead. He was whispering softly to himself as he shuffled through drawers of papers, and then checked a large ledger for what seemed like an interminable time, until at last, he nodded his head and looked up at Serena again. |
| 2543 |
He walked carefully toward a back corner where there were only a few tombstones, and all of them seemed to be new. He gestured gently toward the small white marble stone, watched Serena for a moment, and then turned and left as she stood there, looking stunned. The search was over, the answers had come. |
| 2544 |
It never had been. It had always been foreign and different and intriguing, exciting, a kind of adventure even during the two years she had lived there after her parents death. But now, having come this far, Serena knew that she had to go further. She had to go all the way to her beginnings. She had to go home. |
| 2545 |
But this time Serena did not cry. She watched all of it, as though drinking it in this one last time so that she could remember, as though she knew that she would never come back again. When they reached the station, she paid him, including a handsome tip, for which he thanked her profusely, and his eyes sought hers. |
| 2546 |
She watched landmarks she hadn't seen in almost seven years begin to drift past her, and it was as though for the first time in years a door deep inside her was being torn from its hinges, as though her very soul was exposed. If someone had spoken to Serena at that moment, she wouldn't have heard them. |
| 2547 |
She was lost in another world, as they rolled along on the edge of the city, and suddenly she felt a longing well up in her that she had not allowed herself to feel in years. It was a longing for familiar places, an ache for her parents, a hunger to come home. She could barely wait for the train to stop in the station. |
| 2548 |
As it lurched the last few feet forward she stood up and pulled her suitcase out of the overhead rack, and then with rapid strides she threaded her way to the end of the car and waited, like a horse anxious to return to its stable. The moment the train stopped and the doors opened, she leaped down and began to run. |
| 2549 |
It was a look that startled her in its frank appraisal, and she lowered her eyes suddenly, embarrassed at the desire she saw in the man's eyes. "Dove?" It was a question that startled her in its directness, but it was hardly unusual for him to ask. The only problem was that she wasn't sure how to answer. |
| 2550 |
She found herself walking along one of the grassy paths for strollers along the edge of the park, watching bicyclists hurrying along, or women walking dogs, and here and there children playing. It was late for them to be out, but it was summer and a balmy evening, the war was over, and there was no school the next day. |
| 2551 |
Serena suddenly dropped her face into her hands in the darkness. She didn't want to remember anymore. She didn't want to remember what had happened, how it had happened, what was no more. But it was as though whatever she did now that she had come back here there was no way to run from the memories anymore. |
| 2552 |
She had come home to find them. Without thinking, she wandered in the direction of the Fontana di Trevi, and stood there mesmerized by it, as she had been as a little girl. She sat quietly for a few minutes, hunched against a wall, watching, and feeling refreshed by the breeze that came off the water. |
| 2553 |
A tiny part of her told her to wait until morning, until she was rested and her head was clear. It had been a long trying day, first in Venice and now here, with hours on the train, but it suddenly didn't matter, and Serena stopped letting her feet wander and stopped pretending to herself, that she had nowhere to go. |
| 2554 |
She did have somewhere to go, a place she wanted to go to desperately, no matter how tired she was... and her feet moved relentlessly toward the familiar address on the Via Guilia. She had to see it, just to stand there for a moment, before she turned her back on the past forever and began the rest of her life. |
| 2555 |
Serena made as though to step backward, stunned by the old woman, and then suddenly she looked into the heavily lined face and she gave a gasp of astonishment and then she too was sobbing softly as she reached out and held the old woman to her. It was Marcella, her grandmother's last remaining servant in Venice. |
| 2556 |
The paint was yellowing, she saw as Marcella turned a light on; the curtains were the same, only they were no longer a bright blue but a faded gray; the wood floor was the same only a little duller, but there were fewer hands around now to wax it and Marcella had grown old. But nothing had really changed. |
| 2557 |
On him the hat looked jaunty and he had it perched at a rakish angle, and his gray eyes seemed to dance with amusement as he looked into Serena's green eyes. For an instant she was tempted to smile at him, but her face grew rapidly serious, and as always when confronted with a uniform, she averted her eyes. |
| 2558 |
She would have resented that more than she resented the American officers living upstairs in what had once been her house. It was crazy really, this business of her living with Marcella in a house that had once belonged to her family and now belonged to someone else and was being rented to the American army. |
| 2559 |
And late that night, on tiptoe, Serena ventured upstairs at last. The visit was less painful than she had feared it would be. Almost all the furniture she had loved was gone now. All that remained were a few couches, an enormous grand piano, and in her mother's room the extraordinary canopied antique bed. |
| 2560 |
It had already been patched in a number of places, and it was faded to a color that suggested long years of use. Beneath the dress Serena put on thick dark stockings, sturdy shoes, and over the front of the blue dress she tied a clean white apron, and then looked into the mirror with a serious face. |
| 2561 |
She was still hoping that Serena would forget herself and speak to her new employers in good English and that by the next morning she would be working for the commanding officer as his secretary, in one of the large handsome rooms upstairs. But half an hour later even Marcella had forgotten those hopes. |
| 2562 |
She used to sit there in her nightgown, just around the bend, peeking at them, and now as she thought of it again she laughed to herself as she walked up the same stairs. It gave her an odd feeling now to be here in the dark of night, with all of the others gone. The memories at the same time delighted and chilled her. |
| 2563 |
Suddenly she wanted to be in her old room, to sit on her bed, to look out the window at the garden, just to see it, to sense it, to become part of it again. Without thinking, she put a hand up to the now dusty navy blue bandanna and pulled it slowly off her head and released the long shining blond hair. |
| 2564 |
It was not unlike the gesture she used to make when she took off the hat to her school uniform as she came home every day and ran up the stairs to her room. Only now she checked in the doorway, and the room was almost empty. There was a desk there, a book shelf, several file cabinets, some chairs... |
| 2565 |
He just stood there, looking down at her, wondering why she seemed so familiar. He sensed something about her, even in the moonlight filtering in from the garden. He had the impression that he had seen her somewhere before. He had been watching her since she had entered the room that was to be his office. |
| 2566 |
She had hoped to conjure an image of a dragon who would not allow him to hurt her. But a mental image of the ancient, heavyset, soundly snoring Marcella crossed her mind and she almost groaned aloud. If truly this man meant to hurt, or rape, her there would indeed be no one at hand to help her escape. |
| 2567 |
He couldn't resist any longer. She was really very funny, and so stubborn and so brave and so determined, he wondered what her story was, and where she had learned to speak English. In her nervousness at being discovered in his office, she had allowed him to see that she spoke his language very well. |
| 2568 |
He had Pattie Atherton waiting for him in New York and just thinking about her brought forth a vision of her in a white organdy evening dress with a blue velvet sash, over it she had worn a blue velvet cape trimmed with white ermine, in sharp contrast to the shiny black hair, creamy skin, and big baby doll blue eyes. |
| 2569 |
She had been working for the Americans for almost a month now and it suited her perfectly. She had food in her belly, a bed to sleep in at night, she was living with Marcella, who was the only family she had left, and she was living in what had once been her home. What more could she want? she asked herself daily. |
| 2570 |
It had become an obsession with her in the past month, being at home again and clinging to the memories. It was all she thought of now as she went from room to room, cleaning, waxing, dusting, and in the morning when she made the major's enormous bed, she pretended to herself that it was still her mother's. |
| 2571 |
It was here that the major found her half an hour later, and he stood there for a long moment, watching her as she peeled the orange carefully and then lay in the grass and looked up at the tree. He wasn't sure whether or not to approach her, but there was still something about her that intrigued him. |
| 2572 |
For her, it was an enormous step. After all, he was a soldier. And she had hated all soldiers for so long. But there was something about him that made her want to trust him. Maybe because he was Marcella's friend. His eyes were kind as he accepted half of the orange and began to peel off sections as he sat beside her. |
| 2573 |
He had lost no one in this war. And he knew that his family was grateful that they had not lost him. Friends of his had died, but no cousins, no brothers, no uncles, no distant relations. It was a war that had barely touched the world he had lived in. And one of these days he knew that he would be going home too. |
| 2574 |
All he could think of as he stood there was Serena, the shape of her neck, the grace of her arms, the way her waist narrowed to almost nothing beneath the starched white apron strings. It was insane. Here he was, engaged to the most beautiful woman in New York, and he suddenly had the hots for an Italian maid. |
| 2575 |
But the major was thinking only of Serena as he stared at the exquisite face in the moonlight and kissed her gently on the lips before pulling away to look at her again. She wasn't sure why she let him do it, but it was as though she had to, as though she had sensed from the first where it would end. |
| 2576 |
He didn't understand why that was true, but it was, and a part of him wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he knew that that was mad too. How could he love a girl he barely knew? And yet, he knew, as they sat huddled in the moonlight, that he did, and as she felt his arms around her Serena knew it too. |
| 2577 |
He kissed her again then, long and hard and with passion and hunger. And without saying anything further, he stood up and pulled her up beside him, kissed her again, and then walked her slowly to her back door. He left her there, with a last kiss, and he said nothing further. There was nothing that he dared to say. |
| 2578 |
Every moment seemed to be filled with visions of Serena, and it wasn't until Sunday morning, as he looked down at her working in Marcella's vegetable patch in the garden that he decided he couldn't bear it any longer and he had to speak to her, at least to try to explain things before he went totally insane. |
| 2579 |
He wanted her to want it too. Slowly she nodded and stood up beside him, her face turned up to his, her eyes larger than any he had ever seen, and solemnly he took her hand in his and they walked across the garden together, and Serena felt in an odd way as though they had just been married... Will you take this man. |
| 2580 |
It was then that he let himself go unbridled until he felt hot gold shoot through him, until he seemed to float upon it in a jewel filled sky. They clung together like that, drifting for what seemed like a lifetime, until he found her lying beside him, as beautiful as a butterfly having lighted in his arms. |
| 2581 |
And she told him the truth, that she had nothing, that she was no one now except a maid in the palazzo. She had no money, no belongings, nothing, except her history, her ancestry, and her name. "You have a great deal more than that, my love." He gazed at her gently as they lay on the bed, side by side. |
| 2582 |
But just as he thought that about Serena, his eyes drifted across to the photograph of a smiling dark haired young woman in the silver frame on the marble topped table beside his bed. It was as though Serena sensed where he was looking and she turned to see the photo of Pattie, smiling down at them both. |
| 2583 |
They sat for a moment, watching the sun come up, looking down at the familiar garden, and then with a last kiss, a last touch, an embrace, she went back to her quarters, and they each began the day. In a strange way it was like being newly married, because each lived to return to the other at the end of the day. |
| 2584 |
She knew she had to be brave when she heard it, but her insides had just turned to jelly. Her eyes fluttered open again quickly and she saw the pain in her eyes mirrored in his own. "Now come on, sweetheart, it's not that bad." He took her in his arms and let his lips roam slowly over the soft spun gold hair. |
| 2585 |
He felt protective and tender, and sometimes almost fatherly toward her. He wanted to be there for her. And he knew also that at the end of every day he wanted her to be there for him. He had come to count on her quiet presence, her thoughtful words, her quiet moments in which she weighed all that he said. |
| 2586 |
She often said things that helped him later. As he sat at his desk, tackling a problem, he would hear the soft voice beside him and move steadily ahead. She gave him a force of which Pattie knew nothing. She had survived sorrow and loss and it had made her stronger, and it was that strength that she shared with him. |
| 2587 |
Now it was that strength that she gave to him. She led him silently into the bedroom, stood beside her mother's bed, and began to take off her clothes slowly. It was an evening ritual between them, and sometimes he helped her and sometimes he only watched, admiring the graceful beauty of her young body and long limbs. |
| 2588 |
For a brief moment B.J. wished that he had had a drink before he left the house. And then suddenly he saw the plane, circling high above and then drifting lower, heading toward the runway, and finally making a graceful landing, then taxiing down the runway toward the small hastily erected building where he stood. |
| 2589 |
She was wearing a fur coat and dark stockings, and she touched the railing, as she made her way down the stairway, with one elegant little hand neatly encased in a black kid glove. He was struck, even at this distance, by how pretty she was. That was the right word for Pattie. Pretty. She wasn't beautiful like Serena. |
| 2590 |
But she was pretty, with a brilliant smile, wide baby doll blue eyes, and a little turned up nose. In the summer her face was lightly dusted with freckles when she went to Newport with her parents and summered at their fourteen bedroom "cottage" with all the other friends she joined there every year. |
| 2591 |
In her own way she was a very striking young woman, and none of them had seen a woman like her in a long time. Everything about her reeked of money and class. She looked like something right out of Vogue magazine, deposited on then doorstep, some four thousand miles from home. The orderlies exchanged quick glances. |
| 2592 |
But he did love Serena, and now he would have to make all right with her. God knows what she had heard as Pattie shrieked at him on the balcony. As he remembered her words he suddenly realized that there was not a moment to lose in finding Serena, but as he left his office to find her, his secretary stopped him. |
| 2593 |
Serena had run into their quarters from the door that led into the garden, rushed into her room, and locked the door. Marcella knew that because she had tried to go in when she had heard her crying, but Serena wouldn't let her in. Half an hour later Serena had emerged, red eyed, pale, and with her suitcase in her hand. |
| 2594 |
At first Marcella thought that she had been fired, at this the old woman cast a sidelong glance of apology at the major, explaining that she had thought that it was all because of him. But Serena had insisted that it wasn't, that it was a problem that had nothing to do with him, and that she had to leave Rome at once. |
| 2595 |
But no matter how deep he dug, how far into the memories, he came up blank. She had no one now except Marcella, and he realized once again how devastated she must have been to leave the old woman and the only home she had. A shaft of guilt shot through him again as he remembered the argument he had had with Pattie. |
| 2596 |
As it was, it was after dark when he got there, traveling down the uninhabited, rutted road in the direction that Marcella had described to him, but he began to wonder in a few moments if he had taken the wrong turn. Nothing looked familiar according to the directions, and he stopped the car in the darkness. |
| 2597 |
He turned the jeep back until he found a narrow, rutted lane, and followed it through overgrown bushes in the direction of the building he had seen on the horizon, and a few moments later, splashing through deep potholes, he reached what must have once been a large courtyard, or a kind of main square. |
| 2598 |
The house looked weather beaten and empty, the doors of the barns had fallen off their hinges, there was grass growing waist high between the cobblestones in the courtyard, and what farm equipment there had once been stood rusting and broken in the orchard, which obviously had not been tended for years. |
| 2599 |
To a nearby farm? But there were none. There was nothing here, and no one, and surely not Serena. Even if she had come here to find refuge, she could not stay here. He stared sadly at the barns in the darkness, and then at the house, but as he did so, he thought he saw something scurry into the darkness of a corner. |
| 2600 |
Realizing how mad he was to have come on this solitary adventure, he kept his eyes in the direction of what he had seen, and walked slowly backward toward the jeep. When he reached it, he leaned inside, and took out his pistol, he cocked it and then began to walk forward, wielding an unlit flashlight in his other hand. |
| 2601 |
He switched it on, and set it down, poised at the same instant with his gun, and like his victim's, his eyes blinked for a moment in the sudden light, as he realized with terror that it was not a cat at all. It was someone hunched over and hiding, a dark cap pulled low over his brow, hands held aloft. |
| 2602 |
And when the sun came up, they each ate an apple, washed at the well, and she showed him the farm she had loved as a child, when life had been so very different. And as he kissed her in front of the old barn, he promised himself that whatever it took, he would convince her and one day she would be his for good. |
| 2603 |
Within the year he would surely be transferred home, and moments like this would not come again. Now and then she thought of that time and wished that she would become pregnant, but Brad was determinedly careful that nothing like that would happen, so Serena knew that when B.J. left Rome, that would be the end of it. |
| 2604 |
He didn't want her traveling alone on the train. But it would be impossible for both of them to leave together, she reminded him. One of them had to stay behind and work at the palazzo. He had nodded then. For Brad the past week had sped by in a fog, and by the morning of his departure he felt drained. |
| 2605 |
As it was, when he drove past, she saw that he was crying too, his face somber and pale at the window of the car, and his face wet with silent tears as the driver pressed relentlessly forward. And then, all she saw was a face at the rear window, until finally the car that bore him, away disappeared. |
| 2606 |
She had made her decision and now she would live by it, if it killed her. And after two days of her lying there, Marcella feared that it would. By the third day Marcella was truly frightened. Serena refused to get up, wouldn't eat, never seemed to sleep. She just lay there, crying silently and staring at the ceiling. |
| 2607 |
He didn't have good news for her anyway. Her traveling papers for a weekend in Paris had been denied. There had been some vague hint about fraternization being frowned on, and it was deemed "wisest to leave one's indiscretions behind." He had burned angrily when he had got word, and now he knew he had to tell her. |
| 2608 |
Serena could have had an accident, or she could have run off to that godforsaken farm again, and this time he wasn't there to go and get her, she could fall in the well, she could break her leg, she could... "Is everything all right there, Palmers?" He spoke to his secretary with concern and the junior man smiled. |
| 2609 |
He had already arranged with Palmers for the phone to be pulled into the guest room, and when it rang, first Palmers answered, then Marcella, then he could hear sounds of movement, of shuffling noises, muted voices, a door closing, and then in barely more than a whisper he heard her thready little voice. |
| 2610 |
The final moments as she left the house were frantic and painful, a last hug from a crying Marcella, as they both laughed through their tears. Marcella had turned down Serena's proposal that she accompany her to Paris. Rome was the kind old woman's home and she knew her princess was now well taken care of. |
| 2611 |
Now the garden had little to offer, and it was into the main salon that they turned, as Serena stared in awe. The room was done in deep red damask and white velvet, there were heavy Napoleonic pieces, upholstered chaise longues in bold raspberry and cream stripes, and two huge Chinese urns beside a priceless desk. |
| 2612 |
It was more like a museum and as she wandered through it she marveled to herself and sotto voce to B.J. that they had been able to preserve everything as it was throughout the war. It was also especially touching that the old butler had trusted B.J. enough to bring out some of the really good things. |
| 2613 |
As Marie Rose stopped talking Pierre took the cumbersome object from her, held the hanger high and unzipped the black satin bag, revealing within a sumptuous dark brown fur coat, which as it emerged from the satin turned out to be sable. Serena stared at it in silence, confused as to why it was there. |
| 2614 |
To save time B.J. simply took the coat gently from the old butler's hands and slipped it on her. It fit perfectly over her shoulders, the sleeves were full and the right length, the coat was cut in the same flare as her dress, and instead of a collar it had a huge generous hood, which he slipped onto her head now. |
| 2615 |
He looked over their papers again, checked their passports, and then stamped several documents with an official looking seal. He came around his desk then, with a harrumph and some minor adjustment to his glasses, straightened his tie, and then raised his right hand, looking as though he were about to swear them in. |
| 2616 |
He's... I don't know, maybe he's more like my father. He sort of goes his own way, and he's odd, you can influence him more easily than you can me or Teddy. We're both more stubborn than he is, and yet when he really gets something in his head that he cares about a great deal, he's like a bloody mule. |
| 2617 |
She knew she would have to buy more now that she was his wife, and she was planning to spend some of what was left of her money on that too. She didn't want to disgrace him with the ugly hand me downs that were mostly all that she had. "Don't worry. I'll buy some new things." She looked embarrassed then. |
| 2618 |
In some ways their father had a lot in common with their middle brother. Mr. Fullerton was somewhat more enterprising than Greg, after all for one term he had been in the Senate, but he had coasted more on family prestige, good connections, and lots of campaign money than on any personal charisma of his own. |
| 2619 |
He had felt desperately guilty about it, as he had finally told his younger brother. But because B.J. had been so quick to get himself sent overseas and had several times had assignments in dangerous zones, their parents had been able to pull strings so that only one of their children was jeopardized. |
| 2620 |
There was always about her a kind of electric tension, and she seemed ever about to pounce, which she did frequently, mostly on her husband, and often on her sons. She was a woman one spoke to carefully and handled with the utmost caution, so as not to set her off, or "get her started," as her family called it. |
| 2621 |
She's a principessa by birth and spent the war at a convent in the States, and when she returned to Italy last summer, she found that the rest of her family had died, she had no one and nothing left, so she went back to the palazzo to see it, and was taken in by one of the maids. She's had a grim time of it, Mother. |
| 2622 |
They had never been close and they were less so now, and he had had enough of his mother and her vicious attitude about Serena. He wanted to get off the phone at all costs. He was only sorry that Serena was in the room while he spoke to his mother. He truly wished that he could tell her all that he was thinking. |
| 2623 |
A man with your connections and your chances, and look what you've just done with your life. It makes me want to weep for what you're throwing away. Do you think you'll ever make it in politics now, with that kind of woman as your wife? For all you know she's a common prostitute calling herself a princess. |
| 2624 |
But a gold cigarette case had always been, in Europe, a standard wedding gift for a young man, and an important one. It was the same wedding gift she would have bought him if her parents had been alive. The difference would have been, perhaps, sapphire initials, or an elaborate message engraved inside. |
| 2625 |
And there might have been an additional gift of sapphire cuff links, or studs for his dinner jacket in black onyx with handsome diamonds sparkling inside. But Serena's gift of the simple gold case was both handsome and impressive and B.J. was touched beyond words as he leaned over to kiss his bride. |
| 2626 |
It was the first time since before the war that they had cared so passionately for the people they had worked for, and the young couple who had inspired their love stood before them now, with regrets of their own. For B.J. it was the end of an era, the beginning of a whole other lifetime, as he knew only too well. |
| 2627 |
He felt so protective of her now as they left the safety of familiar turf in Europe. Particularly so now that she was carrying his child. But even if she hadn't been, he would have wanted to make the transition easy for her, and he knew that the first days of introduction to his mother would probably be very tense. |
| 2628 |
But B.J. had questioned for a long time how well all of that could be translated into his own culture. It was one of the reasons why he had been in no hurry to go back to the States. But now the moment had come, and in order to make the transition more gentle, he had arranged to take part of his leave on the way home. |
| 2629 |
This was a luxury liner of the first order, and as she passed down beautifully paneled halls, glanced into red velvet draped staterooms, and looked at the other passengers as they boarded, she realized that this was going to be a very special trip. Serena's eyes began to dance as she turned to her husband. |
| 2630 |
It was the perfect spot for the honeymoon they had never taken, and the whole room had an aura of comfort and luxury that made one want to stay for a year, not a week. Their trunks were already neatly placed on racks in convenient places, and their suitcases were added to them now, as the steward made a neat bow. |
| 2631 |
You don't want to appear a snob. But you don't have basic differences with your very roots, Serena. You belong in that world, and if that world still existed, I would never have taken you from it, because right now America is a place where the people don't understand the kind of world you come from. |
| 2632 |
It was a sight that rarely failed to stir intense feelings, and those who got up early enough to see her always felt a special bond with their country as the ship glided into port. Serena was moved beyond words as they passed the statue lighting her way to a new life. Even B.J. was strangely silent. |
| 2633 |
One wanted to reach out and touch her, yet no one would have dared. Her white kid gloves were impeccable on her hands as she barely touched the railing, and she looked back once at Brad, and he could read everything in her eyes. He leaned toward her with a word of encouragement as they got closer to land. |
| 2634 |
He could already imagine the little wrinkles near his eyes when he smiled. He had a way of smiling that lit up his whole face and made two deep dimples that had been his misery as a child. He was wearing white flannel slacks, a blue blazer, and a boater, and he looked wonderful to Brad as he hurried toward them. |
| 2635 |
He threw his arms around them both, and they stood there, laughing and crying, the three of them locked in a bear hug and standing beside the huge ship that had brought them home. It seemed ages before Teddy let her go, and she stood back to look up at the younger brother she had heard so much about. |
| 2636 |
Yet Teddy had something special, and it was impossible not to see it. It was almost a kind of glow, a kind of excitement that lit up his soul and everyone who came within his sphere. There was a joy and a warmth and a love about him that bubbled over the edges and exploded like fireworks on the Fourth of July. |
| 2637 |
And Serena felt the pull of it too as she stood back and watched him, but she felt something else as well, a wave of admiration from him that was so overpowering, she wasn't sure how to react. Despite the rapid fire conversation between the brothers, Teddy hadn't taken his eyes off Serena since he'd arrived. |
| 2638 |
Brad and Ted whisked her into the elevator and up to the top floor, where the hallway led to a single apartment, the penthouse overlooking Central Park, where all three boys had grown up, and which sent a little shiver of excitement down Brad's spine now as Teddy unlocked the door and stood aside for them to enter. |
| 2639 |
Two maids in black uniforms with lace aprons and caps were frantically dusting the main hallway. It was paneled in extraordinarily beautiful Japanese screens, the floors were a harlequin black and white marble, and here again was a beautiful chandelier, but this one much more so than the one in the lobby. |
| 2640 |
The whole entrance reminded Serena of a brilliantly lit ballroom. The maids were quick to welcome Brad home, and they went off to report to the cook that he was back, and he promised to go out to the kitchen to see her in a minute. But first he wanted to show Serena the apartment where he had grown up. |
| 2641 |
Something very odd had happened between the three of them that day. A new bond had formed between two people who had already loved each other all of their lives and they had managed to include in it a whole other person. It was as though the three of them stood within a magic circle, and they knew it. |
| 2642 |
Something had already told Brad, now that he was back on home turf, that none of it was going to be easy. Before he had come back to this house, he had been able to vacillate about what he thought would happen, how his mother would behave. He had tried to play a game with himself that he could no longer play here. |
| 2643 |
Margaret Hastings Fullerton had been orphaned at twenty two, when both her parents had been killed in a train collision abroad. They left her with an enormous fortune. She had been well counseled by the partners in her father's law firm and a year later she had married Charles Fullerton and merged her fortune with his. |
| 2644 |
But she knew within months of their marriage that there was no hope of that. She was married to one of the country's richest men, and he didn't give a damn about the excitement of how that fortune had been created. Her plans for him, as well as his father's, went awry, and he had his own way in the end. |
| 2645 |
What he wanted, not unlike his father, Margaret had often thought with dismay, was a life that was "pleasant" and meant something to him. He had no interest in power, as she saw it, industry or commerce on a grand scale, or an empire like that of his ancestors. Greg, on the other hand, was a great deal more malleable. |
| 2646 |
They disagreed about everything, from politics to the weather. Particularly this recent business about Brad's little harlot from Rome. She had told the entire family exactly what she thought about that nonsense, and more specifically she had told her husband precisely what she thought needed to be done. |
| 2647 |
And she was sure that there would be no problem. It was obvious that the girl was after his money, from what Pattie had said, but it still wasn't too late to buy her off. They would pay her passage back to Europe, give her a handsome sum to unload her, and the annulment proceedings would be begun at once. |
| 2648 |
She had thought about it again all that morning, and it was a relief to know that the matter was almost at an end. Her intense desire to get rid of Serena had eclipsed almost all else lately. She had scarcely thought about the wedding, and it had taken some of the joy away from the thrill of seeing Brad home. |
| 2649 |
You've got a rehearsal for it tomorrow, and half a dozen other things. You'll have to stop in to see your father's tailor in the morning. He used your old measurements for a cutaway and striped trousers, but you'd better let him check you over quickly tomorrow, while he can still make some changes before it's too late. |
| 2650 |
Just as she had managed not to go to the boat, now she was avoiding them again. What in hell was she doing? he wondered. Trying to pretend that Serena didn't exist, or was there a reason for her behaving this way? Teddy had an unpleasant feeling that something they would all regret was about to happen. |
| 2651 |
But maybe he should give them more of a chance, he decided. It was a hectic time for them all, and he couldn't expect everyone to drop what they were doing just for him. But it was not for himself that he cared about it, it was for Serena. Already he could see something wary in her eyes as he glanced at her. |
| 2652 |
He had only been home for a few hours, and he was already feeling unnerved by his family. What odd people they were, he remembered now, and all the intrigues and plots and tensions and insults. His mother always kept them all at fever pitch, and it annoyed him severely to become a part of that again now. |
| 2653 |
Her grandmother had been a strong woman, but in a much purer sense. Her grandmother had had quiet strength and determination. Margaret Fullerton had something different. One sensed instantly about her that she used her strength to get what she wanted, and perhaps in ways that were occasionally ugly. |
| 2654 |
The paintings were beautifully framed and hung as though in an art gallery, with excellent lighting, against wonderfully draped taupe velvet walls. The carpeting beneath her feet was thick and of the same pale mocha color, it was in sharp contrast to the marble floors she was so used to in Rome and Venice and Paris. |
| 2655 |
There were no peaches or rubies or brilliant greens. It was a whole other look than the Renaissance splendors of the palazzi Serena had known, which she had to admit that she still liked better. Yet this had a certain warmth to it, and it was all as elegant and restrained as Margaret Fullerton herself. |
| 2656 |
While Margaret poured herself a drink, Serena studied her. She was an amazingly distinguished looking woman, and tonight she wore a rich sapphire colored silk dress, set off by a handsome necklace of sapphires and diamonds, which her husband had bought her at Cartier's in Paris after the first world war. |
| 2657 |
She would fade out of Brad's life immediately, in exchange for which she was to be paid the sum of twenty five thousand dollars. Furthermore, the paper went on, she swore that at this moment in time she was not pregnant and would attempt to make no future claim on Brad for paternity of any child she subsequently had. |
| 2658 |
The family dinner that night was an event of intriguing auras and currents. Margaret sat at the head of the table in her sapphire blue silk looking beautiful and charming. There was no sign of what had come before the meal, and if she avoided any conversation with Serena throughout it went unnoticed. |
| 2659 |
At the opposite end of the table sat Charles Fullerton, pleased at having all three of his sons home at once, which was a first since the war, and he toasted all three of them handsomely, as well as the two young women, who were "new additions" to the family, as he put it. Greg seemed unusually expansive at dinner. |
| 2660 |
He leaned toward her and spoke to her quietly, made her laugh once or twice, but mostly he noticed that she was far more withdrawn than she had been that afternoon in his study. He wanted to ask her how the private interview had gone with his mother, but he was afraid that someone might overhear him. |
| 2661 |
The doctor had told her that crying easily wasn't uncommon in the first months of pregnancy, and neither she nor her husband should take it seriously. Until the day before she hadn't, nor had Brad. But suddenly she felt very different. She felt as though this woman was single handedly out to destroy her. |
| 2662 |
He couldn't stay married to the girl forever, no matter how pretty she was. For the moment she was young, but in a few years he would tire of her. And perhaps by then he would be tired of the army too. It wasn't too late after all, he was only thirty four. And in the meantime she had Greg to take care of. |
| 2663 |
She's in a strange country, with strange people, and she's more scared than she lets on. Besides which, she's pregnant, which is emotionally difficult for some women in the beginning. Just be there with her, Brad. All the time. I think that's what happened today. She just got upset, and you weren't around to turn to. |
| 2664 |
Teddy whistled and even Greg looked more than a little stunned. The group left together a few minutes after they had assembled in the front hall, the three brothers, their parents, and Serena. Pattie and her parents were meeting them at the club, where a private room for the rehearsal dinner had been arranged. |
| 2665 |
He had promised himself that he would do all he could to make Serena's evening bearable. Since her husband didn't know what agony his mother had caused, the least Teddy could do was be there for her. Serena was deeply grateful to him once again, as their eyes met, and she knew he understood and would not betray her. |
| 2666 |
On the whole it was a very convivial evening, and Brad managed to talk a great deal to the girl on his left, a tall girl with red hair who had gone to school with Pattie at Vassar, and she had just returned from a long stay with friends in Paris, so at least they had something in common and something to say. |
| 2667 |
It left Brad, next to Pattie, with almost all of the others on the dance floor, and it suddenly seemed very uncomfortable to be seated next to her alone. He glanced to his right, and found that she was looking at him, and somewhat ruefully he smiled at her, trying not to think of what had happened in Rome. |
| 2668 |
He was finding it damn awkward. She sat there as though expecting something from him, like a kiss or an arm around her shoulders. Everyone knew that they had been engaged the year before, and now suddenly here she was, about to marry his brother, and they were sitting alone at the main table, side by side. |
| 2669 |
After she'd pulled herself together, she poured Brad his coffee, made her cup of tea, put both on a tray, and walked slowly upstairs, trying to decide what to do, and when she reached their room, she knew that she had no choice. If her mother in law wanted her to stay away from the wedding, then she wouldn't be there. |
| 2670 |
He looked very dashing in the cutaway and striped trousers, the gray top hat, and gray gloves. It was going to be a very elegant wedding, and Serena was suddenly sorry to miss it. Teddy knocked on the door a moment later, wearing the same costume and holding a sprig of lily of the valley for Brad to put in his lapel. |
| 2671 |
He was nervously getting ready in his own room down the hall. He had had his own apartment for years, but for his last night as a bachelor he had come home and slept in his old room. He knew that way, no matter how drunk he got the night before, he wouldn't be allowed to oversleep on his wedding day. |
| 2672 |
All that garbage about your being a nobody, and somebody's maid, nobody will buy any of that crap after last night. You look every bit what you are: a beautiful, aristocratic lady. I don't know what the hell is eating my mother, except that Brad did something he wanted and made the decision for himself. |
| 2673 |
Because I want that to be clear to you, and to my mother, and to Pattie and Greg, and anyone else who seems not to understand it. I'll explain it to my mother next, and while I'm doing that, you are to get your ass out of that bed and into whatever you were supposed to wear to this bloody farce of a wedding. |
| 2674 |
Serena is my wife, whether you like that fact or not. Apparently you asked her not to come to Greg's wedding. That you would dare do such a thing astounds me and hurts me. If you'd like us both not to come, that would be fine, but if you'd like me to be there, then you'd best know that I'm bringing Serena. |
| 2675 |
She wouldn't have given that paper up to anyone now. The paper Serena had signed was already in her vault. She was still convinced that Serena was after his money, and years later when she left him and tried to soak him, his mother would save the day with the paper she had had the foresight to force Serena to sign. |
| 2676 |
Serena smiled at the children with damp eyes, and then turned to see who came behind them, and as she did she caught her breath at the vision that stood there. It was a fairy princess in a dress of lace so magnificent that Serena thought she had never seen anything like it. It was obviously an heirloom. |
| 2677 |
It was impossible not to feel dwarfed beside her, her dark beauty in sharp contrast to the soft white, and Serena was absolutely certain that she was the most beautiful bride she had ever seen. It was impossible to associate, even for a moment, this totally perfect scene with all that Brad had told her about Partie. |
| 2678 |
This was a goddess, a fairy princess. It was she who looked like a principessa, Serena mused as she sat there. And then with a heavy heart she realized that it was she who could have been Brad's wife. He could have been the groom at this wedding, married to the striking little dark haired beauty from his own world. |
| 2679 |
He could have lived the life his mother wanted for him, keeping his family intact. Instead he had married a stranger to this world, and he would become an outcast. As she thought of it the tears filled her eyes and ran slowly down her cheeks. She felt a grief beyond measure at what she had done to him. |
| 2680 |
A few minutes later they got out, found a redcap, and threaded their way through the crowded station. Serena looked around her in fascination, there were armies of people shuffling around beneath the enormously tall ceilings. Everywhere around her were advertisements and posters and billboards and announcements. |
| 2681 |
She looked like a little girl as she trundled along beside her husband, and he almost had to shoo her out of the main lobby to get her to the platform area where they would find their train. "But it's wonderful, Brad!" He grinned at her delight, and tipped the porter as he unloaded their bags onto the train. |
| 2682 |
It was far more luxurious than any of the postwar trains in Europe. In Italy and France nothing had as yet been completely restored from the condition it had been left in by the armies of occupation. Here mahogany skinned white coated porters with stiff caps assisted them into their tiny but impeccable quarters. |
| 2683 |
Brad had taken his brother's suggestion, and the young couple could hardly wait. But first they had to take the train to Chicago, where they would spend the day and change trains, then continue their journey. Half an hour after they had boarded, the train inched out of the station and hurtled through New York. |
| 2684 |
The influence of the architecture seemed to be mostly Spanish, the view of the bay and the bridge were superb, and some of the houses on the base looked very handsome. She was amazed at how quickly Brad emerged from the building, with a broad smile, and a set of keys in his hand, which he dangled at her. |
| 2685 |
Serena realized that they would have to go out and buy furniture, but the house itself was lovely. It had a big Spanish style kitchen, which someone had redecorated in blue and white Mexican tile. There were overhead hooks for plants, huge windows that looked out over the bay, and a door that opened into the garden. |
| 2686 |
There was also a handsome formal dining room, with a domed ceiling, a small chandelier, and a fireplace; a living room, which also had a splendid view of the Bay, and an even larger fireplace. Upstairs there was a cozy wood paneled den, and three very pleasant bedrooms, all of them with views of the water. |
| 2687 |
There were handsome English prints on the wall, always a profusion of flowers on all the tables, and she had made the curtains herself from a beautiful French fabric. The dining room was formal and a soft ivory white, filled with orchid plants and a view of the profusion of flowers she had planted in the garden. |
| 2688 |
Serena had created an atmosphere of well being that touched everyone who entered. One wanted to unravel on the couch, stare at the bay in peaceful silence, and never leave again. "You did a beautiful job, Serena." She looked pleased, and then jumped up to bring him tea and sandwiches and little cookies. |
| 2689 |
She bitched for two months about their honeymoon. She thought he should have taken her to Europe. But he wanted to go to Newport instead, which she didn't consider a honeymoon. The house he had rented for her for the summer wasn't as fancy as the one her brother in law had got her sister, and on and on it went. |
| 2690 |
But the strangest thing of all was hearing all of the news so distantly from his brother. When he had been in Europe, everyone had made a point of staying in touch. They had written as often as they could, especially his mother. And now, since he and Serena had come to California, there was a measurable difference. |
| 2691 |
Or maybe, in light of what Teddy had just said, he was just desperately unhappy. Brad had heard from his father only once, but from his mother never. He had called her a few times at first, but her voice had been so chill, her remarks about Serena so cutting, that he no longer called her, and she never called him. |
| 2692 |
But as things turned out, it wasn't quite as ferocious during the first semester as he had feared. And although he had a mountain of reading to do most of the time, he still managed to come into town to see them, particularly at the end of Serena's pregnancy. He wanted to be there if something momentous happened. |
| 2693 |
He had already told Brad that when the time came he wanted to be around. Brad had promised to call him at Stanford in case she went into labor, and they both assumed that Teddy would have time to come into town on the train and walk the halls with his brother for as long as it took the baby to arrive. |
| 2694 |
It was definitely time to call the doctor, she realized, and she was a little startled to discover that the first contraction could be so painful. No one had warned her that it would start with such vehemence. In fact the doctor had told her that at first she probably wouldn't even know what the pains were. |
| 2695 |
But he knew that he had to call the doctor, and he did so as quickly as he could. An ambulance was promised, and the doctor told him to stay with her. Teddy told him that he was a first year med student, and the doctor explained how, if the ambulance came before he did, Teddy should hold and clamp the cord. |
| 2696 |
And I find it very touching to hear you sounding so paternal. But that doesn't change the fact mat your marriage to Serena is a tragedy in your life, Bradford, whether you acknowledge that yet or not. And the addition of a child to further embellish an already disastrous union is not something I can celebrate with you. |
| 2697 |
In truth she looked a great deal like Brad, but she had the easy laughter and grace of her mother. Teddy came as often as he could. He called Vanessa his fairy princess and read her endless stories. He could never see them as often as he wanted to anymore, because his studies at Stanford were so demanding. |
| 2698 |
Whatever her grandparents' feelings were about her, it mattered not at all to Vanessa. She was a constantly happy, sunny child, with an even disposition and almost no ill temper. And she was so passionately loved by both her parents and her uncle that the absence of others to adore her never mattered. |
| 2699 |
As the realization hit him Teddy slowly hung up and the tears began to roll down his face. He dropped his face into his hands and sobbed silently, thinking of the big brother he had always looked up to, and of Vanessa and Serena. And then as though he sensed something, he looked up and saw her standing in the doorway. |
| 2700 |
And the real world was waiting out there to devour her. She remembered also, as did Teddy, the paper that her mother in law had made her sign at the very beginning, and by the next morning Teddy had discovered that his brother had died intestate. He had left no will, so that everything he had reverted to his family. |
| 2701 |
She moved as though she were in a daze, not understanding, barely thinking, and suddenly midmorning he heard her give a shout of pain. Almost as if he sensed what had happened, Teddy ran in to find her in her bedroom. Her water had broken. She was already doubled over on the floor in unbearable pain. |
| 2702 |
This time her pulse was thready, her breathing tortured, her eyes glazed. She went into shock in the hospital, and an hour later her son was stillborn. Teddy sat in the waiting room for several hours until he could see her, and when he did, he was overwhelmed by those once emerald eyes, now a deep sea filled with pain. |
| 2703 |
She was still like that the next morning, and two days later when they discharged her. And that morning they had to bury her son in a tiny white coffin, which they lowered slowly into the ground as she fainted. The next day they brought home Brad's body, and she had to go to headquarters and sign papers. |
| 2704 |
Teddy thought she would never make it. But somehow she did, as she signed the forms with a look of horror that almost overwhelmed him. And through it all there was Margaret Fullerton to contend with too. Serena had insisted on calling her herself, and there had been no scream of anguish from Brad's mother. |
| 2705 |
The following week Teddy helped Serena find an apartment, and she packed up all of their beautiful things and moved to Pacific Heights. It was a two bedroom flat with a view of the bay, which she could just manage on her pension, and if they wanted to eat too, she realized that she was going to have to get a job. |
| 2706 |
At six o'clock in the morning, on a foggy day in late July, Serena stood at the pier in Oakland, hugging Teddy for the last time. The weeks had flown by so quickly, she couldn't believe that he was already leaving. She had begged him to change his mind at first, and then finally she had accepted his decision. |
| 2707 |
It was something that he had to do for himself and his brother, no matter what anyone said. His mother had flown out from New York in a fury, threatening to pull strings, use connections, and get him kicked out of the service. But he was so vehement about his decision that in the end even she capitulated. |
| 2708 |
They had an extraordinary bond between them, had had from the beginning, and it had strengthened when he had delivered Vanessa. But in the past two months there had been something more, being with Teddy was like holding on to a part of Brad. It allowed her to hold on to him in some distant, melancholy way. |
| 2709 |
It was several minutes before she saw him again, standing high above her, on the deck, waving slowly, and she couldn't fight back the tears. They streamed down her face unrestrained, until at last the horns bleated again, in concert with the foghorns in the distance, and the ship began to pull out slowly. |
| 2710 |
They had a lot of nice things to do together, Serena encouraged, like going to the zoo, and the rose gardens in the park, the Japanese tea garden, the circus when it came to town... but before she could finish, there were tears in her eyes again and she was holding her daughter and squeezing her tight. |
| 2711 |
Time and again she thought of the agreement she had signed with Margaret Fullerton. If she had never been forced to sign that damned piece of paper, at least she and Vanessa would have been able to eat. Vanessa would have had pretty clothes to wear and more than just one beat up pair of little shoes. |
| 2712 |
Their husbands stared at Serena, utterly awed by her beauty, and it wasn't long before the store's advertising agency saw her, and they made her their main model for the store. Every week her photograph was in the papers, and by the end of her second year at the store people began to recognize her around town. |
| 2713 |
It was a painfully empty life. She had the child, and her work, and their apartment. But other than that, she had nothing at all. No man, no friends, no one to talk to or to turn to. There seemed to be no room in her life for anyone but the child. And at night she would sit and read, or write letters to Teddy. |
| 2714 |
They took weeks to reach him in the distant outposts of Korea. He was a resident now, and wrote to her long sorrowful letters about what he thought of the war. To him, it all seemed a senseless carnage, a war they couldn't win and didn't belong in, and he longed to come home or be transferred to Japan. |
| 2715 |
She was aching with loneliness and exhaustion, from the years alone, the endless hours of hard work at the store, and all that she poured out to Vanessa. It was as though she had to give it all, and there was no one to replenish her strength for her. Week after week she waited anxiously for Teddy's letters. |
| 2716 |
The letters that she dictated to someone else to be sent to Serena were always stilted and awkward, and left an empty chasm there too. In effect there was only Teddy, thousands of miles away in Korea, and it was only in the last few months of the war that they both began to realize what had happened. |
| 2717 |
The morning that she heard the news that the war was over, she was working at the store, and wearing a black velvet evening suit with a stiff white organdy collar, and she stood in the middle of the designer salon with tears streaming down her face. A saleswoman smiled at her, and others chattered excitedly among them. |
| 2718 |
And how different he felt. He had been gone for three years, and he had just turned thirty. And he felt as though in three years of war everything about him had changed. His interests, his needs, his priorities, his values. On the long flight over from Japan he had wondered again and again how he was going to fit in. |
| 2719 |
The two men had somehow merged as one in her mind. And now she had to face the truth again, as her heart plummeted within her and she tried not to let her grief show in her face. "Hello, Serena." She smiled now, over the first shock, and then simultaneously they both looked down at the little girl beside her. |
| 2720 |
But now that he saw her, the way her bones had begun to stand out, the way she looked, the way she did her hair and her face, the way she moved now, he knew that if she wanted to she could have a tremendous career. It was the first time the thought struck him, as they sat on the couch. But Serena only shrugged. |
| 2721 |
She always felt so terribly responsible for Vanessa, as though there were no one who could ever take her place, but as she watched the child with her uncle, she suddenly felt as though she could relax. If something had happened to her at that very moment, Vanessa would have been safe and well cared for. |
| 2722 |
She wore slacks and a black turtleneck sweater, her hair wound high on her head, and she looked very different from the magical creature who had worn the lilac taffeta ballgown only that afternoon, as Teddy mentioned with a grin when she came in and told them that it was time to turn off the lights. |
| 2723 |
But after the phone call Serena felt an ever greater void than she had before she spoke to him. It was almost a physical ache as she thought of how far away he was and how long it might be before she saw him again. And aside from Vanessa he was the only family she had. But four days later he called her. |
| 2724 |
The furniture was simple and unpretentious, freshly painted white wicker chairs, a bright hooked rug, bright prints on the walls, and a handsome quilt on Vanessa's bed, which she later discovered was a present from Teddy. It looked like a cozy guest apartment in someone's house, instead of an entire apartment. |
| 2725 |
He spent the rest of the evening explaining to her how to get around the city, what was where, where not to go, and what were the safest areas. And the more she listened, the more she liked it. She had to go to the agency for her first interview the next day, and she was so excited, she could barely stand it. |
| 2726 |
When Serena appeared at the Kerr Agency the next morning, she was startled at what she found there, gone were the easygoing, relaxed people she had run into modeling in San Francisco. Here everything was business, it was quick fire, high pressure, rushed, and hurried, and there was no fooling around. |
| 2727 |
No casual air surrounded this business, it was an office filled with well dressed, well made up women sitting at desks, speaking on phones with stacks of composites piled up before them, file cards referring to jobs pinned up on boards in front of them, and telephones ringing every time one turned around. |
| 2728 |
She had worn a pale blue sweater, a gray skirt, a simple navy blue cashmere blazer she had bought at the store in San Francisco, and her long graceful legs seemed endless as she crossed them and the woman noticed the black Dior pumps. Her hair was carefully knotted, and in each ear she had worn a simple pearl. |
| 2729 |
In two minutes this woman had got more out of her than anyone had in years. In the years she was married to Brad, she was so wrapped up in him and Vanessa and Teddy that she had made no close friends on the base, and afterward, when she was modeling, there was no room in her life for anyone but her child. |
| 2730 |
He was a tiny elf of a man, with a wonderful smile that lit up his black eyes, horn rimmed glasses, and a shag of silvery gray hair that fell constantly in his eyes, he wore a black turtleneck sweater and black slacks and soft kid jazz dance shoes, and he seemed to leap through the air as he took the pictures. |
| 2731 |
He reminded her constantly of a dancer, and she was so totally enamored of him, that she did all that he told her to do. More than that, he seemed to cast a kind of spell as he worked. She worked tirelessly with him for hours, and it wasn't until she walked in her front door that she realized how exhausted she was. |
| 2732 |
Haven't you done enough to her? If it were up to you, she would have starved after Brad died. She has supported that child for almost four years alone, worked herself to the bone, and you have the nerve to look down on her, and if it's any of your goddamn business, she's still faithful to my brother. |
| 2733 |
She failed to mention, of course, that the palazzo had once belonged to Serena's parents. And it seemed useless to Serena to try to tell them the true version. Besides, she was too busy to care, and every night when she came home she was exhausted. She had lost fourteen pounds in two months from hard work and worry. |
| 2734 |
But as it turned out, the dinner never came to be. Serena's schedule was impossible to rearrange. In truth, she didn't have time to have dinner with Teddy's friend. After trying a few times to arrange it, Teddy finally gave up, not quite sure of his own reasons, still uneasy about the depth of his feelings for her. |
| 2735 |
She valued the older woman's guidance and they had become friends. They seldom saw each other outside business hours, but they spent long hours talking in Dorothea's office, and the advice she gave Serena was always excellent. Particularly in regard to Margaret Fullerton, who for the moment had stopped being a problem. |
| 2736 |
She went home to her little girl, and Dorothea always suspected that there were few men in her life, and even at that, only very circumspect dates, there hadn't been anyone serious since her husband. That summer Serena had been in New York for a year, and she was so busy that she could barely spend a minute with Teddy. |
| 2737 |
She occasionally met him for lunch at the studio between jobs, and when they had a shooting together, they stayed on after hours to talk about work. There was nothing physical about the relationship, but she was very fond of him as a friend and a colleague. Dorothea was still pondering the question. |
| 2738 |
Two days she could handle, and then she could go somewhere for a few days and relax. She couldn't join Teddy in Newport of course, because of his mother, but she didn't even mind that. She knew that his life there was a round of parties, and when she went away, she didn't even want to comb her hair. |
| 2739 |
She got the address of the studio Arbus was using, checked her supplies, makeup, hair spray, mirrors, an assortment of brushes, four pairs of shoes, a bathing suit, some shorts, stockings, three different brassieres, and a little simple jewelry. You never knew what you were going to need when you went to work. |
| 2740 |
He had startled her, standing so close to her, but everything about him was startling. His hair shone like onyx, his eyes were like black gems, sparkling at her with barely hidden laughter, he had a broad angular face and high cheekbones, a rich, sensuous mouth, and a suntan that gave him almost honey colored skin. |
| 2741 |
And now that she thought of it, she vaguely remembered hearing about him. He was the black sheep of the family, and she thought she'd heard that he'd been married several times. The third time he had married it had been on the front page of the paper in San Francisco, he had married a distant cousin of the queen. |
| 2742 |
He suffused her with a kind of joie de vivre that she hadn't remembered in a very long time, if ever. The driver knew exactly where Vasili wanted him to go, and he drove through assorted ugly little suburban communities, until he reached the right one, and drove the enormous Bentley sedately up to a small pier. |
| 2743 |
The ride took half an hour, and they got out on the island on a narrow little pier, and then he walked with her straight across the island to a beach that took her breath away, it was so lovely. It stretched out for miles, a narrow sandspit in the ocean, perfect white sand, and soft waves for almost thirty miles. |
| 2744 |
But he was so open and so appealing, and he had a magnetic quality about him that drew her to him. They walked on the beach for a while, and then sat down to watch the sunset, and they sat that way for what seemed like hours, in the growing dusk, his arm around her shoulders, each of them listening to his own dream. |
| 2745 |
They said little on the ferry ride home, and she was astonished to realize that in the last few minutes of it she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder. But he was that kind of man. He teased her about it once they were back in the Bentley, and they laughed and joked on the rest of the ride home. |
| 2746 |
As relaxed and magical as the day before had been, the day of working with Vasili at the studio was a day of grueling devotion to his work. He shot unrelentingly for hour after hour, in the studio, in the car, with the male models, with the children, head shots of Serena, and shots of the car alone. |
| 2747 |
He kissed her as passionately as he had before, but he forced himself to leave her at the door. He was back again though the next morning, with fresh coffee and croissants, a basket of fruit, and an armful of flowers, and she opened the door to him sleepily in her nightgown and was astounded as he stepped inside. |
| 2748 |
Just as he seemed to feel about her, she also felt that she had to have him, but it was a kind of breathtaking roller coaster whirl. There was nothing calm or peaceful about this. It was raw passion and a constant riptide of desire. He walked toward her now, fully erect and with his black eyes blazing. |
| 2749 |
She wanted to tell him something, but she felt strange explaining Vasili to him. It had all happened so quickly and with such force. She was pensive and a little nervous as she stood there debating, but the phone rang again and it was Vasili. He wanted her to meet him in London for a few days the following week. |
| 2750 |
And it seemed to her that if she did that, it would at least give her another chance to evaluate how she felt. She accepted quickly, thanked him profusely for the coat, said that she really couldn't accept it, but he insisted. And after they hung up, she put it back in the box and hid it in a suitcase. |
| 2751 |
Her guilt made her feel convinced she'd crash on the plane, she was sure that the whole trip would be a disaster, and she really didn't want to go. Yet, something drove her to do it, and by the time she was halfway to Shannon Airport for their first stop, she was so excited, she could hardly breathe. |
| 2752 |
But by the end of the week she had grown used to the gossip, and it seemed as though she had always been part of his life. She brought him coffee and croissants in the morning, he gave her long sensuous massages at night. They talked until all hours of the morning, and she watched his friends with a sense of intrigue. |
| 2753 |
She couldn't truly say that she disliked his life. His studio was enormous and very efficient, his house was enchanting, and the man himself had wit and genius, tenderness and humor and taste. He was, in many ways, all that one could want in a man. But she still felt that she hadn't known him for a very long time. |
| 2754 |
Serena's psyche was exhausted. She was tired and pale and hadn't slept in weeks. Teddy took them to the airport, and all three of them cried as though it were the end of the world. He was quiet and restrained, but the tears flowed down his face as he kissed Vanessa, and Vanessa clung to him like her last friend. |
| 2755 |
For hours on the plane all she had been able to think of was Teddy, looking so bereft when they left, and his begging her not to get married right away. She had cried when she said good bye to Dorothea Kerr too, and she already felt a twinge of nostalgia for the life she had left behind in New York. |
| 2756 |
The wedding was pretty and festive and conducted at the home of one of his friends in Chelsea. There were about thirty people present, and no members of the press. Serena looked magnificent in a beige silk dress that hung to the floor, with tiny beige cymbidium orchids in her hair. A minister performed the ceremony. |
| 2757 |
Vanessa stood beside her mother at the wedding, holding tightly to her hand and glancing at Vasili. In the past two weeks she had begun to like him, but he was still a stranger to her, and she didn't see him very often. He was at the studio most of the time in the daytime, and every night they went out. |
| 2758 |
They went to parties, balls, concerts, the theater, parties after parties after parties, and were frequently not yet in bed when the sun came up over London. How he managed to work as hard as he did was a mystery to Serena. By the end of two weeks she had circles under her eyes and she was exhausted. |
| 2759 |
His youngest child was fifteen and his oldest was twenty one, but they were all delighted to meet Vasili's new stepchild. He had never before married anyone with children, and they were intrigued by this new wife of his, with the golden hair. She was so beautiful and so graceful, and even Andreas was taken with her. |
| 2760 |
She wanted to go on playing checkers forever with Andreas, whom she had come to love, but both Serena and Vasili said that they had to get back to work. Vasili had several jobs waiting for him at the studio in London, and Serena had already made an appointment with an agency to come in and show them her book. |
| 2761 |
Until one night when Serena was waiting for Vasili to come back from the studio, he still hadn't showed up two hours after they were expected at someone's house for a formal dinner. Serena was waiting for him in a spectacular gold dress she had just got from Paris, and her calls to the studio had been to no avail. |
| 2762 |
He looked filthy and disheveled. His hair was all askew, there were deep circles under his eyes, his shirt was covered with spots, his pants were unzipped, and he was walking unsteadily toward her at a much too rapid pace, as though he were operating on the wrong speed. "Vasili?" He looked as though he had been mugged. |
| 2763 |
In almost precisely the same manner, once the following week, and twice the week after that. On Vanessa's birthday he was the worst he had ever been, and two days after that he disappeared for an entire night. It was as though he had gone totally berserk in the past month, and Serena couldn't understand it. |
| 2764 |
The morning of Christmas Eve Serena sat across the dining table from Vasili, and with a pale face and shaking hands she set down her cup. They were alone in the dining room and the doors were closed. Vasili looked as though he had been embalmed only that morning, and he did not attempt to meet her eyes. |
| 2765 |
She just wanted to go home. She got up from the table then, and suddenly, as she walked toward the door, the whole room spun around her, and a moment later she awoke lying on the floor. Vasili was kneeling beside her, looking at her in terror, shouting at the maid for a damp cloth to put on her head. |
| 2766 |
When she left him, she drove directly home and climbed into her bed, and Teddy called her half an hour later, allegedly to wish them both a merry Christmas, but a few minutes later he asked if everything was all right. She had to fight to control her voice as she spoke to him, and she said nothing about coming home. |
| 2767 |
At first she thought that something awful had happened, like a car accident perhaps, and then as the hours ticked by she began to wonder if it was all happening again. She was racked by terror and anger as she waited up for him until four thirty in the morning, and at five o'clock she heard him come up the front steps. |
| 2768 |
She was afraid of what she would see, but she had to see it and know if he was using drugs again. All the old terrors had started again, in only one night. As she stood halfway down the stairs and he stood in the front hallway, his eyes met hers, and he attempted a false bravado, with an enormous movie star smile. |
| 2769 |
And without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and walked up the stairs as quickly as she could. She felt as though at any minute she might have the baby. She felt so tense and she was having so many contractions from her long night awake that she wasn't sure if she was in labor or just feeling ill. |
| 2770 |
He stood over her, and when she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, she saw that his eyes had the mad nervous gleam they had had before when he used heroin. It was like reliving the same nightmare and she felt as though she couldn't bear it. She felt a rage rise up within her that was almost beyond control. |
| 2771 |
She cried for over an hour and he didn't come near her, and when her tears were spent, she fell asleep on the bed, and when she awoke, it was eleven o'clock and he was still snoring. She tiptoed out of the room to go and find Vanessa, but Marianne had taken her for a walk, and Serena walked around the house slowly. |
| 2772 |
She felt trapped as she sat at the foot of the stairs, and didn't hear him approach her. She only felt the touch of his hand on her shoulder and she leaped off the step with a little scream. As she turned to face him she saw his ravaged face. This time the damage of the drug was apparent after only hours. |
| 2773 |
At the end of the first week every day he promised her that he would get help, and every day he went out and used again. He was always going to get help the next morning, she was always going to call her lawyer and leave for the States at a moment's notice. It was a merry go round of threats and promises and fear. |
| 2774 |
She felt isolated from everyone, adrift in this nightmare of Vasili's creation, as she waited to give birth to their child. She was afraid all the time and worried and she felt ill. But she had said nothing to her doctor. She couldn't stand the shame of admitting to anyone, except Teddy, what she was going through. |
| 2775 |
She tried to fall asleep in spite of the impression, not wanting to know what it was, and then suddenly she felt her whole belly seized as though in a giant vise, and she awoke with a start, knowing instantly what she was feeling. "Damn..." she muttered softly. All the women she knew went into labor gently. |
| 2776 |
She got out of bed as quickly as she could, but she suddenly felt very awkward, the baby had dropped even lower in the past few hours, and she felt severely encumbered as she walked to the bathroom for some towels. As soon as she got there she had another pain, and she had to pant softly in order to bear it. |
| 2777 |
He smiled at them both and wished Serena luck, and two nurses came out to help Serena into a wheelchair. She was smiling wanly at Vanessa and waving one hand as they wheeled her away, and Vanessa settled down in a corner of the waiting room, assuming that her little brother or sister would be born a few minutes later. |
| 2778 |
Five minutes after they hung up he called the hospital, spoke to the nurse in charge, and was unable to speak to a doctor. Mrs. Arbus, according to them, was doing fine. The baby was indeed breech, but they felt no need for a Caesarean as yet. They were going to wait until, at the very least, the following morning. |
| 2779 |
And no, they had been unable to turn the baby, but they had every confidence that subsequent efforts would set matters aright. Subsequent efforts would mean that when Serena was in midpain, a nurse or an intern would shove both hands as far in as they could get them and try to turn the baby upside down. |
| 2780 |
He thanked the ambulance driver, gave him an enormous tip, rushed inside, inquired for the maternity ward, and ran up the stairs, his bag in his hand, to emerge into a large unfriendly waiting room, where he saw Vanessa asleep in a chair. He hurried to the desk, spoke to a nurse, and she looked extremely startled. |
| 2781 |
Both Serena and the baby were going to be all right, but he still had to see Vanessa. The poor child had been through an ordeal of her own, and when he reached her side at ten fifteen, she was still sleeping. He sat down beside her and as though she sensed him, she looked up with a puzzled frown, and he smiled at her. |
| 2782 |
He hadn't bathed in a week, his skin was broken out, his hair was matted to his head, his eyes were sunken and darkly ringed, and he was wearing a filthy bathrobe. Andreas tried to urge him to clean up before they left, but he was nodding out, and he saw with distaste and despair the hypodermic on the table. |
| 2783 |
The nurse smiled when she saw Serena, and looked with interest at the man at her side, and then she remembered him from his pictures in the paper, but he looked very different. Nonetheless she recognized him and she was impressed, as she picked up his baby girl and held her up for him to see for the first time. |
| 2784 |
She still loved him, and she owed the baby something, at least to try one more time, but she was afraid that if he used drugs again the horror of it would destroy her. But she felt so torn between what she owed herself and what she thought she owed the baby. "All right. We'll try it once more." It was barely a whisper. |
| 2785 |
He promised to pick her up to bring her home the next day, and as he left the room, with a sigh she reached for the phone to call Teddy, wondering how to explain this new madness to him. She knew it was wrong, and yet she wanted to think it was right. And she couldn't, and now she had to justify it to Teddy. |
| 2786 |
After two weeks at home she was allowed to go for walks nearby. And after another week he took the baby and Vanessa out with the pram for their first outing. By then it was early September, the weather was balmy, and Vanessa had gone back to school. She was in fourth grade now, and her ninth birthday was approaching. |
| 2787 |
They went back to the house that afternoon and played with the baby. He had still not gone back to work after his own stint in the hospital to recover from his addiction. Now he wanted time with Serena and the baby, and Serena began to wonder if his constant absences weren't beginning to affect his career. |
| 2788 |
When she tried to reach him at the apartment, she couldn't, and eventually she gave up, and assumed that she would hear from him, but once again the worries set in. She didn't know for sure until he walked back into the house in London a week later, and she felt her heart sink to her feet as she saw him. |
| 2789 |
She looked at him, feeling as though the end of the world had finally come, but she said not a word to him. She went upstairs, packed her bags, called Teddy, and made reservations on the next plane. And then, trembling from head to foot, she set her bags on the floor just as Vasili walked into the room. |
| 2790 |
Serena looked around at the stark little room, clutching the baby to her. There was only one bedroom, but she didn't care. All she wanted was to be three thousand miles away from Vasili. She had almost no money with her, but she had brought the diamond bracelet he'd given her last month and she was going to sell it. |
| 2791 |
The poor child had been through a great deal in the past six weeks. Serena was almost inclined to give her some time off from school while she readjusted, and all Vanessa wanted to do anyway was take care of the baby. She was totally enamored of her baby sister, whom she called Charlie, instead of Charlotte. |
| 2792 |
His history of heroin use became public knowledge, his marriages were rehashed, his stays in mental hospitals to dry up, were discussed at length. And the hint of a custody battle over the children was superficially mentioned. It was a scandal second to no other, but the main issue at hand was the children's fate. |
| 2793 |
His brother had been doing everything possible to get extradition. He had promised that if they would allow Andreas to take him to Athens they would put him in a hospital there. What he was terrified of was a murder trial for his brother. He was deathly afraid that Vasili would never get out of jail. |
| 2794 |
Vanessa had been in a kind of stupor ever since she had seen her mother killed. She had begun screaming that morning, and the baby sitter said she had screamed until the police came, and then they had gently led her away. She had clutched Charlie to her until Teddy arrived and took the baby from her. |
| 2795 |
They would be leaving for Athens, with two guards, later that day. But, he went on to explain to the judge, since the child so recently born to Serena had no other blood relations, he felt it imperative that he take her back to Athens too, to grow up among her cousins and aunts and uncles who would love her. |
| 2796 |
It was only right that she should be among her own. The judge seemed to give this some serious attention, and as Teddy tried to catch his breath and prepare the argument that the girls shouldn't be separated, he looked up in astonishment at a petition being made to the judge by an attorney he knew well. |
| 2797 |
She just sat on the floor of the courtroom, rocking back and forth. Teddy rushed forward and signaled to Andreas that it was best for him to go quickly, and Teddy reached out and touched the child he loved. He didn't even have time to give a last glance at Charlie. She was gone forever before he could turn his head. |
| 2798 |
The matter of Charlotte he knew was over. What the judge had said was true. He had no blood claim on the child, only his love for her mother, and that would never hold up in court. But with Vanessa it was a different matter, he and the child had a relationship that had been built up over nine years. |
| 2799 |
When Teddy went to see Vanessa at Pattie and Greg's apartment, it tore at his heart in a way that nothing ever had before. She sat in her room, staring out the window, and when he spoke to her, she seemed to hear nothing he said. She didn't stir until he touched her shoulder and shook it gently, calling her name. |
| 2800 |
He tried to talk to Greg about the insanity of Pattie's taking custody of Vanessa, but it was virtually impossible to talk to Greg. He was no longer ever sober past noon. He sat in his office purely to maintain the fiction that he still ran the law firm, but there were other people to do that for him. |
| 2801 |
He promised to buy a larger place, to only tend to his practice four days a week, to hire a female housekeeper and a nurse for the child. He brought out people who had seen him over the years with Vanessa. All to no avail, it seemed. And on the last day of testimony the judge requested that they bring forth the child. |
| 2802 |
As it was, they all knew that within ten minutes of leaving the courtroom he was usually too drunk to get out of the car. But that was just tension, his mother insisted. Teddy didn't choose to argue the point, although he had had his lawyer suggest to the court that Mr. Gregory Fullerton had a problem with alcohol. |
| 2803 |
Teddy was never allowed to be alone with her anymore, but he had had the impression for months that she was slipping more and more into herself. Her eyes seemed glazed and the child who had been so full of life and her mother's magic was listless, but he could never talk with her long enough to pull her back. |
| 2804 |
But she seemed not to hear the judge at first when he spoke to her, and then finally she turned her face up toward where he sat when she heard her name. "Vanessa?" His voice was gruff but his eyes were kind. He was a big man and he had grandchildren, and he felt for this child with the bleak gray eyes. |
| 2805 |
The articles every day were awful, and eventually Vanessa had to be taken out of school. Before that, some effort had been made to maintain normalcy for her, but she had followed almost nothing in her classes, and much of the time she hadn't gone at all. The psychiatrist took a full week to come to his conclusions. |
| 2806 |
She had some recollection of her mother being extremely ill, and it was, as Teddy had suspected, her memory of her mother in the hospital in London that had conveniently surfaced, but she did not recall that it had happened in London or that the reason for the "sickness" was that her mother was in labor. |
| 2807 |
He advocated psychiatric treatment for a time, to see if the memories would surface. He insisted though that she should not be pushed or prodded, that the way her mother had died should not be told to her. She should be left alone with her forgotten memories, and if they came of their own, it was all to the good. |
| 2808 |
He hoped, he explained to the court and all of the parties involved, that when the child felt more secure again, her presently traumatized psyche would relax enough to allow her to deal with the truth. It would have to be dealt with, he said sadly. One day. If not, it would severely damage the child. |
| 2809 |
The doorbell rang, an officer asked if he was Theodore Fullerton, he said that he was, he was told that he was under arrest, handcuffs were clapped on him, and in front of Vanessa's horrified eyes he was led away. Another officer turned off the fire under the breakfast and gently told Vanessa to get her things. |
| 2810 |
Bail was set at fifteen thousand dollars, an extortionate amount, and a hearing was set in front of the very same judge the next day. The next morning, looking unshaved and exhausted, Teddy was led into court, the handcuffs were removed, and the judge glared at him for several minutes before clearing the court. |
| 2811 |
I'm going to give you thirty days in jail for the alleged kidnapping of your niece after my verdict. You may request a trial on the matter if you wish, but I'm not going to charge you with kidnapping. I'm going to charge you with contempt of court. There is no bail for contempt, and you will serve the full thirty days. |
| 2812 |
Maybe she would be all right with them, after all. The bailiff called the court to order, everyone was told to rise, the judge came in, and he frowned at them all. He informed them that the investigation conducted regarding Vanessa's custody had been the most extensive of any of his career on the bench. |
| 2813 |
And when Teddy glanced at his mother, he saw that she was wiping her eyes, and he felt gratitude overwhelm him. She had finally done something decent. Only Pattie looked as though she wanted to kill them all as she stalked out of the courtroom, but Greg stopped to shake Teddy's hand and wished them both luck. |
| 2814 |
The papers had been strictly kept from Vanessa all along, and Teddy hoped that they would all get lost somewhere over the years. He didn't want any of that coming back to haunt Vanessa. She still remembered nothing of Vasili, or the baby, or her mother's murder, but she seemed much more herself now. |
| 2815 |
When she had graduated from Vassar the previous spring, it had been a moment that he knew he would always cherish. In some ways she was as lovely as her mother had been, but it was more a similarity of spirit. She had grown up to look exactly like Brad, and sometimes it amused Teddy to see how much she was like him. |
| 2816 |
He had led two lives for years, that of a sedate, successful surgeon at Columbia Presbyterian, in dark pin striped suits, white shirts, and dark ties, and then a whole other life with Vanessa. A life of ice skating and pony rides and the zoo and father's days at camp, and hockey games and ice cream parlors. |
| 2817 |
She had kept him even younger than his forty five years and he hardly looked more than thirty. His own blond good looks had held up well, and he actually looked a great deal like her. They had the same lanky frames, the same shoulders, the same smile, it was perfectly conceivable that she could have been his daughter. |
| 2818 |
It was disturbing that none of that had ever surfaced, but it was possible now, they all felt, that she would never remember. She was happy, well adjusted, there was no reason for any of the past to come leaping out. And they also suggested that if he wanted to, once she was an adult, he might want to tell her. |
| 2819 |
He had decided not to do that, she was happy as she was, and the burden of knowing her mother had been murdered by her husband might have been too great for Vanessa. The only possibility that could be of concern was if she suffered some major trauma. In that case, perhaps, some of the memories could be dislodged. |
| 2820 |
She was just like any other child, happy, easygoing, better natured than most, they had never had any teen age problems. She was just a terrific kid and he loved her as though she were his own child. And now that she was almost twenty three, he couldn't believe how quickly the years had flown past them. |
| 2821 |
He returned to the darkroom twenty minutes later, in blue jeans and a dark brown cashmere jacket with a beige turtleneck sweater. She shopped for him sometimes at Bloomingdale's, and came back with things he would never have bought for himself, but he had to admit that once he had them he liked them. |
| 2822 |
She just didn't know it. The next morning they sat peacefully over scrambled eggs and bacon. They alternated making breakfast every morning. On her days they had scrambled eggs, on his they had French toast. They had it down to a science. They read the paper in sections, with perfectly harmonized rotations. |
| 2823 |
She was reading the article, but her eyes kept straying back to the picture. The article was brief and said only that he was dead of a drug overdose at fifty four. It said also that he had spent five years of his life in a mental hospital for having committed murder, and he had been married six times. |
| 2824 |
After all those years here it finally was. But she seemed to have cast the mood off. She poured his second cup of coffee and went on reading the paper, but he saw a few minutes later that she had turned back to Vasili's picture again. It was interesting also that they didn't say whom he had murdered. |
| 2825 |
And after twenty minutes of trying to concentrate on his patients at his office, he gave up and called Vanessa's last psychiatrist, but it had been eight years since she'd seen him. It turned out that he had retired, and a woman had taken over his practice. Teddy explained the case, and she went to get the file. |
| 2826 |
She urged him to relax and just see what happened, and the same thing happened again the next night, and the night after that. It went on for weeks, but nothing really surfaced. In the daytime Vanessa was cheerful and busy and entirely herself, and at night she lay in bed and moaned and cried softly. |
| 2827 |
It was as though deep down some part of her knew, but the rest of her didn't want her to know it. It was agonizing watching her that way every night, and at the end of three weeks he went to see Dr. Evans. He waited in the waiting room for fifteen minutes, and then the nurse told him that she was ready to see him. |
| 2828 |
I told you it could take months, or even years. There was a possibility, with the initial shock, that she might have been jolted into remembering the whole story. What seems to be happening instead is that it's leaking slowly into her subconscious. It could take a very long time, or it may all subside again. |
| 2829 |
They went to dinner two or three times a week, occasionally went to the opera or the theater. He even took her to a hockey game with Vanessa, and was pleased at how well the two women got along. It also gave Linda her first look at Vanessa. She found her a delightful girl and saw no sign of inner torment. |
| 2830 |
In some ways he was still very shy. But it was part of what she loved about him, and there was a great deal about him that she loved. Vanessa looked at him with a question in her eyes, and for just an instant the two women's eyes met and held, and then Linda looked away. She didn't want to spoil the surprise. |
| 2831 |
They had had something so special for so many years, and now it had altered slightly, but in a healthy way for them both, and she was so pleased that he was marrying Linda. They were perfect for each other, in every way. And neither one of them had ever been married, he at forty six and she at thirty nine. |
| 2832 |
And it grew more marked as the time for the baby's birth came closer. Linda on the other hand seemed to grow happier and calmer as she got larger. There was a serenity about her that struck everyone who knew her. Even her patients were touched by what one of them called "the rosy glow of the Madonna" about her. |
| 2833 |
And I don't think telling her would have changed a damn thing. She'd still have to live with the same nightmare, consciously or not. If she's going to trust men, or even just one man, it will come to her on her own, if the right man comes along. It's still possible, you know, Teddy. She's a young girl. |
| 2834 |
He was more than a little concerned about Linda having her first baby at forty. Medically speaking, they both knew the dangers of giving birth to a first baby at her age, but her doctor seemed to feel confident that there would be no problems. But more and more Teddy found himself remembering Serena's pregnancies. |
| 2835 |
He remembered the golden glow she had seemed to have before the birth of Vanessa, and how he had delivered her himself that afternoon, alone in the house in the Presidio. He told Linda about it one night, and she watched him. Something so gentle and so sad always happened to his face when he spoke of Serena. |
| 2836 |
I tried explaining to John how I felt, and he understood it. He said that after his little boy died and he broke up with his wife, he didn't sleep with anyone for two years. He just didn't want to. He thought that there was something wrong with him too, but there wasn't, it was just as though he were numb or something. |
| 2837 |
A heat wave came along, and she was miserable and restless. At five o'clock one morning she got up, her back ached, she had heartburn, she couldn't sleep, and she finally gave up and made herself a cup of coffee. The coffee gave her cramps, and she felt like a lion in a cage by the time Teddy got up at seven. |
| 2838 |
She was going to try to have the baby by natural childbirth, though he offered her medication if she wanted it. But both she and Teddy had agreed that it would be better for the baby if she tried not to. A few minutes later the pains picked up in speed, and an hour later Teddy was telling her to pant softly. |
| 2839 |
When it was over, he ran a damp cloth over her forehead, gave her ice, held her hand, and told her how wonderfully she was doing. Nurses came and went, and offered her encouragement, they told Linda she was doing great, and outside in the hall they all gossiped about Linda and Teddy both being doctors. |
| 2840 |
It was a whole other world than he had seen with Serena. When he had arrived in London that morning, he had known that she was literally dying. Had they left her there long enough, her heart would have eventually stopped from the strain, and the baby would have died too if they hadn't moved quickly. |
| 2841 |
The labor was moving along nicely, and what had happened was that she was finally in transition. After thirteen hours of labor she was nearly eight centimeters dilated, and in a little while she could begin pushing. But they both knew from the Lamaze class that she had just entered the hardest part of her labor. |
| 2842 |
It was a night filled with jubilation and excitement. When they got back to Linda's room, she was so high she could almost fly. She got out of bed and walked down the hall to see her son in the nursery window, and she stood holding on to her husband's arm, and they both looked like the proudest parents alive. |
| 2843 |
As Teddy watched her get off the elevator, she seemed disoriented. He started to walk toward her with a smile, but then he stopped. She looked almost gray. He wanted to say something to Linda, but there wasn't time. Vanessa stood next to him in a moment, her eyes very big and gray, and she looked frightened. |
| 2844 |
Vanessa stopped for a moment, she had snuck in her camera, and clicked several frames, before she put the camera down again and came toward them. There was something terribly serious in her face as she looked at Linda, and then without saying a word, her eyes went to the baby. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. |
| 2845 |
You did something very healthy. You finally reached back into the past and opened a door that's been locked for years. And the reason your psyche let you do it is because you were ready. You can handle it now, and your mind knows that. What you did took sixteen years to do, and it wasn't easy. We all know that. |
| 2846 |
What has just happened to you is the most normal thing that's happened to you in twenty five years. And the fact that your mother was murdered isn't your fault, Vanessa. You couldn't help that. It's not a reflection on you, or even on her. It happened. Her husband was obviously crazy when he did it. |
| 2847 |
Vanessa's appraisal of him had been correct, he was handsome and intelligent, gentle and kind, and mature well beyond his years. He had declined to hold the baby, but had stood playing with him over his crib. It was obvious that there were still too many memories for him, wrapped up with the infant. |
| 2848 |
It was almost as though she were afraid to see him, afraid of what he represented, and of how much he cared for her. She had told him once at the end that she had nothing to give him, that she thought that she had given herself to people who no longer existed, and she had no way of finding her way back. |
| 2849 |
It had been taken over in recent years by the ambassador of Japan, and there were Japanese soldiers standing outside it when Vanessa went to have a look. She wished that she could walk in the gardens, but she knew that she couldn't. She remembered her mother talking of Marcella, who had died many years before. |
| 2850 |
All in all she was having a wonderful vacation, but after four days in Rome she began to get anxious about why she had come. The first two laps of her pilgrimage were almost over. There had been plenty to see and she had taken lots of photographs, but she knew only too well that that wasn't why she was there. |
| 2851 |
And then, as though she couldn't wait a moment longer, she went to the telephone book, and holding it close to her, she sat on the bed. But she couldn't read the Greek letters in it, so, as though she were trapped in a dream, she went downstairs to the front desk and asked them to look it up for her. |
| 2852 |
And she had no idea at all what to expect now. Surely he would come alone. He would not bring Charlotte with him. But at least she would see him, and maybe she would get some answers from him. The only trouble was that she was not yet sure of the questions, but perhaps when she would see him, she would know. |
| 2853 |
She stood rooted to one spot in the lobby, watching people come in, and then realized that she hadn't told him what she looked like, and she had no idea what to expect of him. She stood there for another ten minutes, wondering if perhaps he were already there, and then, as she watched the door, she saw him. |
| 2854 |
She found herself musing over things he had said, as she undressed slowly, and she found her mind full of him as she fell asleep. The prospect of waiting two weeks to meet Charlotte still didn't thrill her, but at least for a few days she could spend some time with Andreas, and after that she'd have to see. |
| 2855 |
He was driving a large silver Mercedes, and in die backseat he had a whole basket of Greek goodies for her to eat. In addition he had brought along for her a picnic basket, in case they didn't want to go back to eat. She looked at him strangely for a moment, as though she didn't understand him, and he met her eyes. |
| 2856 |
Some things have great meaning in a lifetime, what they become later doesn't always matter so much. In your mother's case it was tragic, but it still meant a great deal. They had a child who is a joy to everyone who knows her, and especially to me. Just as you were the fruit of your mother's love for your father. |
| 2857 |
Vanessa had insisted that she didn't want to shock her, but he insisted again that Charlotte was a sturdy, happy child and it would not upset her to be surprised. In the end Vanessa let him talk her into going, and they drove down to the port after they got the phone call that his friend's yacht had returned. |
| 2858 |
She turned the emerald ring around on her finger, and Andreas walked quietly toward the gangway, and a moment later disappeared. It seemed hours before he emerged again, but it was actually more like twenty minutes. He had taken Charlotte quietly aside after greeting his friends and had had a talk with her. |
| 2859 |
It was an idyllic time for them all, and Vanessa had never been happier. She had everything she wanted, a man she loved, a sister she adored, and now all the good memories returned as she put away the others. She remembered times she had had with her mother, and seeing Charlie brought it all back to her. |
| 2860 |
It was during the second week that Charlie had come back that Vanessa got up one morning and Andreas didn't come to breakfast. She was worried when he didn't come down as he always did, trim in his English suits, and his perfectly starched white shirts, his hair impeccably in place, and smelling of lavender and spices. |
| 2861 |
For an instant she felt sorry for herself, remembering that she was about to endure another loss in her life, but almost at the same moment she could hear Andreas's voice telling her that they had to grab the moment... and now Vanessa had Charlotte to think of. The loss of Andreas would be a tremendous blow to her. |
| 2862 |
Charlie was subdued, and Vanessa looked at her, thinking that she looked absolutely splendid. She was the prettiest girl Vanessa had ever seen, and she had noticed a number of heads turn as they had taken their seats. It was the combination of the ivory skin, the emerald eyes, and the sheet of black satin hair. |
| 2863 |
It was a dazzling combination. It wasn't until later that Vanessa opened the small package Andreas had given her. A thin gold chain fell into her hand, and at the end of it a starkly beautiful single diamond in a setting that made it look like a star, and as she hung it around her neck she understood its meaning. |
| 2864 |
It was odd now that she remembered him so clearly, he seemed ugly to her, in the things he had done to her mother, but he didn't frighten her as he had before. When she thought of him, it was with anger and sadness at what he had done, but she thought also of Andreas and the love she had just shared with him. |
| 2865 |
The doors opened automatically and they stepped into the terminal, and for an instant Vanessa could see Teddy catch his breath. Seeing Charlotte for the first time was like seeing Serena return to life. Only the hair was different but even that seemed not to matter as one looked into the familiar green eyes. |
| 2866 |
There were no words that had to be spoken between them. She had gone to Athens as he had told her, she had touched her past, found her sister, and she had come back. She felt his arms tremble for a moment as he held her, and when he looked into her face and saw her smiling, he knew that all was well. |
| 2867 |
The plane was just high enough for the landscape to have a postcard quality to it, but the wind rushing in through the open hatch distracted the young woman clutching the safety strap so that all she could see was the vast expanse of sky beneath them. The man standing behind her was telling her to jump. |
| 2868 |
It was only their third date, and Blake had made skydiving sound so enticing that after her second cosmopolitan, she had laughingly said yes to the invitation to skydive with him. She didn't realize what she was getting into, and she still looked nervous now, and wondered how she had let him talk her into it. |
| 2869 |
She could hardly wait. He was so charming, so handsome, so outrageous, and so much fun that even though she barely knew him, she was ready to follow him and try almost anything in his company, even stepping out of a plane. But now she was terrified again, as he turned her face toward him and kissed her. |
| 2870 |
She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed as they free fell for a minute, and then she opened her eyes and saw him as he gestured to her to pull the ripcord on her parachute, just as the instructors had taught her to do. Suddenly they were drifting slowly to earth as he smiled at her and gave her a proud thumbs up. |
| 2871 |
He had chartered the smaller plane and a pilot for their jump. Blake Williams appeared to be an expert at everything he did. He was an Olympic Class skier and had been since college, had learned to fly his own jet, with a copilot in attendance, given its size and complexity. And he had been skydiving for years. |
| 2872 |
And in spite of his enormous success before he retired, he didn't have a mean bone in his body. He was the catch of the century, and although most of his relationships in the last five years had been brief and superficial, they never ended badly. Even when their fleeting affairs with him were over, women loved him. |
| 2873 |
Her jump with Blake had been much more exciting than the one with the two instructors days before. And she couldn't wait to tell everyone she knew what she'd done, especially with whom. Blake Williams was everything people said he was. He had enough charm to run a country, and the money with which to do it. |
| 2874 |
It was the highest recorded rainfall in New York in November for more than fifty years, and cold, windy, and bleak outside, but cozy in the office where Maxine spent ten or twelve hours a day. The walls were painted a pale buttery yellow, and she had quiet abstract paintings on the walls in muted tones. |
| 2875 |
The room was cheerful and pleasant, and the big overstuffed easy chairs where she sat talking to her patients were comfortable and inviting, and upholstered in a neutral beige. The desk was modern, stark, and functional, and so impeccably organized it looked as though you could perform surgery on it. |
| 2876 |
Everything about Maxine's office was tidy and meticulous, and she herself was perfectly groomed without a hair out of place. Maxine had her entire world in full control. And her equally efficient, reliable secretary, Felicia, had worked for her for almost nine years. Maxine hated mess, disorder of any kind, and change. |
| 2877 |
At forty two, she was an expert in her field, and appropriately admired and acknowledged by her peers. She turned down more speaking engagements than she accepted. Between her patients, the consulting she did with local, national, and international agencies, and her own family, her days and calendar were filled. |
| 2878 |
All the responsibilities relating to her children fell to her, and her alone. She sat staring out the window, thinking about them, waiting for her next patient to arrive, when the intercom buzzed on her desk. Maxine expected Felicia to tell her that her patient, a fifteen year old boy, was coming through the door. |
| 2879 |
It had been four months since he'd seen the kids. He had taken them to visit friends in Greece in July, and he always loaned Maxine and the children his boat every summer. The children loved their father, but they also knew that they could count on their mom, and that their dad came and went like the wind. |
| 2880 |
But whatever he did, she knew it would be as amazing as everything else he touched. He had incredible taste, and bold ideas about design. All his homes were exquisite, and he owned one of the largest sailboats in the world, although he only used it a few weeks a year, and lent it to friends whenever he could. |
| 2881 |
She had worked too hard to get where she was. She couldn't imagine walking away from it, and didn't want to, no matter how rich her husband suddenly was. She couldn't even conceive of the kind of money he'd made. And eventually, although she loved him, she couldn't do it anymore. They were polar opposites in every way. |
| 2882 |
Blake was never there. Maxine had decided she might as well be alone, rather than bitching at him all the time when he called, and spending hours trying to track him down when something went wrong for her or the kids. When she told him she wanted a divorce, he had been stunned. And they had both cried. |
| 2883 |
He tried to talk her out of it, but she had made up her mind. They loved each other, but Maxine insisted that it didn't work for her. Not anymore. They no longer wanted the same things. All he wanted to do was play, and she loved being there for her children, and her work. They were just too different in too many ways. |
| 2884 |
And when would that be? she thought to herself, but she didn't say the words. He answered her unspoken question. He knew her well, better than anyone else on the planet. That had been the hardest part of giving him up. They were so comfortable together, and loved each other so much. In many ways, they still did. |
| 2885 |
And he had no secrets from anyone, since most of what he did wound up in the press. He was always in the gossip columns with models, actresses, rock stars, heiresses, and whoever else was at hand. He'd gone out with a famous princess for a short time, which only confirmed what Max had thought for years. |
| 2886 |
She always had. He could hardly get her to take a day off in their early days, and she wasn't much better now, although she spent her weekends with the children and had a call group cover for her. That was an improvement at least. They went to the house in Southampton that she and Blake had had when they were married. |
| 2887 |
She came by it honestly, and he was a wonderful example to her, and was very proud of her work. Maxine was an only child, and her mother had never worked. Her childhood had been very different from Blake's. His life had been a series of lucky breaks from the first. Blake had been adopted at birth by an older couple. |
| 2888 |
His biological mother, he had learned later after some research, had been a fifteenyear old girl from Iowa. She was married to a policeman when he went to meet her, and had had four other children. She had been more than a little startled when she met Blake. They had nothing in common, and he felt sorry for her. |
| 2889 |
He was well aware of how fortunate he had been, how he indulged himself, but he enjoyed himself so much with everything he did, it would have been difficult to roll the film backward now. He had established a way of life that gave him immense pleasure and enjoyment, and he wasn't doing anyone any harm. |
| 2890 |
He wanted to see more of his children, but somehow there never seemed to be enough time. And he made up for it when he saw them. In his own way, he was their dream dad come to life. They got to do everything they wanted, and he was able to indulge their every whim and spoil them as no one else could. |
| 2891 |
He had always been fond of her father. He was a hardworking, serious man with good values and solid morals, even if he lacked imagination. In some ways, he was a sterner, even more serious version of Maxine. And despite their very different styles and philosophies about life, he and Blake had gotten along. |
| 2892 |
He just wished she'd relax and have more fun. He thought she had taken the Puritan work ethic to an extreme. Her intercom buzzer rang as she was saying goodbye to Blake. Her four o'clock patient, the fifteen year old boy, had arrived. She hung up, and opened the door to her office, as her patient wandered in. |
| 2893 |
She was seeing him three times a week, and once a week he went to a group for previously suicidal teens. He was doing well, and Maxine had a good relationship with him. Her patients liked her a lot. She had a great way with them. And she cared about them deeply. She was a good doctor and good person. |
| 2894 |
As usual, it was a long, hard, interesting day, that required a lot of concentration. Afterward, she managed to return the rest of her calls, and by sixthirty she was walking home in the rain, thinking about Blake. She was glad that he'd be coming for Thanksgiving, and she knew their children would be thrilled. |
| 2895 |
And now, with Morocco added to the list, it would be even harder to track or pin him down. She didn't hold it against him, it was just the way he was, even if it was frustrating for her at times. There was no malice in him, but no sense of responsibility either. In many ways, Blake refused to grow up. |
| 2896 |
She wondered if things would have been different, if he hadn't made the fortune he did at thirtytwo. It had changed his life and theirs forever. She almost wished he hadn't made all that money on his dot com windfall. Their life had been sweet at times before that. But with the money, everything had changed. |
| 2897 |
Blake had woken her up with a bang. The next day he had taken her for a helicopter ride, and they had flown over the bay, and under the Golden Gate Bridge. Being with him had been thrilling, and their relationship had taken off like a forest fire in a strong wind after that. They were married in less than a year. |
| 2898 |
She was twenty seven when they got married, and it had been a whirlwind year. Ten months after their wedding, Blake sold his company for a fortune. The rest was history. He turned the money into even more, seemingly without effort. He was willing to risk it all and was truly a genius at what he did. |
| 2899 |
They had houses, babies, and an unbelievable fortune, and Blake was on the covers of both Newsweek and Time. He went on making investments, which continued to double and triple his money, but he never went back to work in any formal sense. Whatever he did, he managed to accomplish on the computer and phone. |
| 2900 |
It had gotten harder and harder to kid herself that she had a husband, and that she could count on him at all. She had finally realized that she couldn't. Blake loved her, but ninety five percent of the time he was gone. He had his own life, interests, and pursuits, which hardly included her at all anymore. |
| 2901 |
He hated to admit it but he felt as though he were in a straitjacket in a matchbox, confined to the life Maxine lived in New York. She refused the settlement, and took only child support for their children. Maxine made more than enough in her practice to support herself, she wanted nothing from him. |
| 2902 |
They didn't have a prenuptial agreement to protect his assets, since he'd had none when they met. She didn't want to take anything from him, she loved him, wanted the best for him, and wished him well. All of that had combined to make him love her even more in the end, and they had remained close friends. |
| 2903 |
Maxine always said he was like her wild wayward brother, and after her initial shock over the girls he went out with, most of them half his age, or hers, she had gotten philosophical about it. Her only concern was that they be nice to her kids. Maxine herself had had no serious relationships since him. |
| 2904 |
Most of the physicians and psychiatrists she met were married, and her social life was limited to her kids. For the past five years, she had had her hands full with her family and her work. Occasionally she dated men she met, but she hadn't had sparks with anyone since Blake. He was a tough act to follow. |
| 2905 |
He was irresponsible, unreliable, disorganized, an inadequate father despite all his good intentions, and a lousy husband in the end, but there wasn't a man on the planet, in her opinion, who was kinder, more decent, more good hearted, or more fun. She often wished that she had the courage to be as wild and free as he. |
| 2906 |
But she needed structure, a firm foundation, an orderly life, and she didn't have the same inclination as Blake, or the guts, to follow her wildest dreams. Sometimes she envied him that. There was nothing in business or life that was too high risk for Blake, which was why he had been such a huge success. |
| 2907 |
Maxine felt like a mouse compared to him. Although she was a remarkably accomplished woman herself, she was far more human scale. It was just too bad their marriage hadn't worked out. And Maxine was infinitely glad they had their kids. They were the joy and hub of her life, and all she needed for now. |
| 2908 |
She hadn't worn makeup that day so her face looked fresh and young and clean. She was tall and thin, appeared younger than her age, and Blake had often pointed out that she had spectacular legs, although she rarely showed them off with short skirts. She usually wore slacks to work and jeans on the weekends. |
| 2909 |
Daphne and Jack both had Blake's almost jet black hair and their parents' bright blue eyes, Sam's hair was blond like his mother's, and he had his grandfather's green eyes. He was a beautiful child, and still young enough to be cuddly with his mom. Maxine rode up in the elevator, dripping pools of water at her feet. |
| 2910 |
She let herself into the apartment, one of only two apartments on the floor. The other tenants had retired and moved to Florida years before, and were never there, so Maxine and the children didn't have to worry too much about noise, which was a good thing, with three children under one roof, and two of them boys. |
| 2911 |
Zelda quickly handed her employer a cup of tea. It was always comforting coming home to her, and knowing that everything was in control. Like Max, she was obsessively neat, and spent her life cleaning up after the kids, cooking for them, and chauffeuring them everywhere when their mother was at work. |
| 2912 |
She had been their nanny for twelve years and was part of the family. She didn't think much of Blake, whom she considered handsome and spoiled, and a lousy father to the kids. She had always felt they deserved better than they got from him, and Maxine couldn't tell her she was wrong. She loved him. Zelda didn't. |
| 2913 |
Blake had done fabulous rooms for them in his fiftieth floor penthouse, full of terrific contemporary art, and state of the art video and stereo equipment. They had an incredible view of the city from their rooms, a theater where they could watch movies, and a game room with a pool table and every electronic game made. |
| 2914 |
Blake often had women with him when he saw the kids. They were always young, and sometimes the children had fun with them, although most of the time, she knew, they found his carousel of women an intrusion, particularly Daphne, who liked being the primary female in her father's life. She thought he was really cool. |
| 2915 |
Aside from that, they had a proper living room, a dining room just big enough for them, and a small den where Maxine often worked, writing articles or preparing lectures, or research papers. Their apartment was nothing compared to the opulent luxury of Blake's, which was like a space ship perched on top of the world. |
| 2916 |
Maxine was a little nervous about what life would be like once boys entered the scene. So far the kids had been easy, but she knew better than anyone that that couldn't last forever. And if it got tough, she'd have to handle it alone. She always had. Maxine took a hot shower and put on a terrycloth robe. |
| 2917 |
She cooked good, solid wholesome meals, and they all agreed she made the best brownies, snickerdoodles, and pancakes in the world. Maxine often thought sadly that Zelda would have made a great mom, but there was no man in her life, and hadn't been in years. At forty two, more than likely, that chance had passed her by. |
| 2918 |
It was still snowing, and her children were still young enough to act like little kids once in a while, instead of grown up, as they wanted to be. They stayed out till three o'clock and then walked home through the park. It had been fun, and she made them hot chocolate with whipped cream and s'mores when they got home. |
| 2919 |
In the end, two additional girls had turned up. She ordered pizza for them at eight o'clock, and Sam called at nine "to see how she was," which she knew from experience meant he might not spend the night at his friend's. Sometimes he couldn't pull it off, and came home to sleep with her or in his own bed. |
| 2920 |
She told him she was fine, and he said he was too. She was smiling when she hung up, and could hear squeals of laughter coming from Daphne's room. Something told her they were talking about boys, and she wasn't wrong. Two extremely uncomfortable looking thirteen year old boys dropped by at ten o'clock. |
| 2921 |
She figured it was Sam wanting to come home, and she was still smiling when she answered, expecting to hear her youngest son's voice. Instead, it was a nurse at Lenox Hill Hospital's emergency room, calling about one of her patients. Maxine frowned and instantly sat up in rapt attention, asking pertinent questions. |
| 2922 |
Jason Wexler was sixteen, his father had died suddenly of a heart attack six months earlier, and his older sister had died in a car accident ten years before. He had taken a handful of his mother's sleeping pills. He suffered from depression, and had tried it before, though not since right after his father's death. |
| 2923 |
She wanted to let her know that she was going out to see a patient, and to listen for the girls, just in case. But she hated to wake her, so she closed the door softly without making a sound. It was her day off, after all. And then Maxine walked into Daphne's room as she pulled a heavy sweater over her head. |
| 2924 |
She hated the idea of Silver Pines. She said it sounded like a cemetery to her. Maxine checked Jason quietly while he was sleeping, read the chart, and was alarmed to see how much of the drug he'd taken. He had taken far more than a lethal dose, unlike last time when he had barely taken enough to kill himself. |
| 2925 |
They were going to move him to a private room later that night, and her orders included a nurse with him, on suicide watch. There had to be someone there to observe him even before he woke up. She told the nurse she'd be back the next morning at nine o'clock, and if they needed her sooner, they should call. |
| 2926 |
She left them her home and cell phone numbers, and then sat down again with Jason's mother outside. Helen seemed even more devastated than before, as reality began to hit her. She could easily have lost her son that night, and been alone in the world. The very thought of it nearly drove her over the edge. |
| 2927 |
She was thinking more like two or three months, and maybe an interim support facility after that, if she thought he needed it. Fortunately, they could afford it, but that wasn't the issue. She could see in Helen's eyes that she wanted Jason to come home, and she was going to fight Maxine on a longer hospital stay. |
| 2928 |
The movie was droning on, and they were still dressed, and then as she looked at them, she noticed an odd smell. It wasn't a smell she had ever noticed in Daphne's room before. She had no idea why, but she walked to her closet and opened the door, and was startled to see two empty six packs of beer. |
| 2929 |
They seemed a little young to her to be sneaking beer, but in fact it wasn't unknown at that age. She wasn't sure whether to cry or to laugh. She didn't know when it had started, but they had taken full advantage of her going to the hospital. She hated to do it, but she would have to ground Daphne the next day. |
| 2930 |
She lined up the empty bottles on her dresser, neatly, for them to see when they woke up. They had managed to consume two bottles of beer each, which was plenty for kids that age. So, she whispered to herself, adolescence has begun. She lay in bed afterward, thinking about it, and for a minute she missed Blake. |
| 2931 |
When in fact, Maxine well understood she was a teenager and that there would be many, many nights in their future when someone did something stupid, her own kids or others took advantage of a situation, or experimented with alcohol or drugs. And it surely wasn't the last time that one of her children would get drunk. |
| 2932 |
Maxine knew she would be lucky if it didn't get much worse than this. And she also knew that she had to take a firm stand about it the next day. She was still thinking about it when she fell asleep. And when she got up in the morning, the girls were still sleeping. The hospital called her while she was getting dressed. |
| 2933 |
The nurse said his mother was with him, and she was very upset. Helen Wexler had called her own physician, and according to the nurse, instead of reassuring her, he had unnerved her more. Maxine said she'd be in shortly, and hung up. She heard Zelda in the kitchen then, and went in to pour herself a cup of coffee. |
| 2934 |
Zelda's heart went out to the parents as much as to the kid. Teenage suicide was a terrible thing. And judging how busy Maxine's practice was, there was a lot of it in New York, and everywhere else. Compared to that, two six packs of beer shared among six thirteen year old girls didn't seem like such a tragedy. |
| 2935 |
It was windy and cold, but the sun was out, and it was a beautiful day. She was still thinking of her daughter and her caper the night before. It was definitely the beginning of a new era for them, and she was grateful again for Zelda's help. They were going to have to keep a close watch on Daphne and her friends. |
| 2936 |
Soon they would all be teenagers, up to mischief of all kinds. But at least, for the moment anyway, it was pretty normal stuff. When she got to Jason's room at the hospital, he was sitting up in bed. He looked groggy, worn out, and pale. His mother was sitting in a chair, talking to him, crying and blowing her nose. |
| 2937 |
It was a scary thought for him. But his succeeding at his next suicide attempt frightened her even more. She had a lifetime commitment not to let that happen, if she could do anything about it. And often, she could. She wanted this to be one of those times, and to avert tragedy before it happened to them again. |
| 2938 |
I'd like to get him out of here as soon as possible. They can't protect him properly here either. This isn't a psychiatric hospital. He needs to be at a place like Silver Pines. It's not as bad as you think, and it's the right place for him right now, at least until he's no longer in crisis, maybe after the holidays. |
| 2939 |
Luckily, they had room for him. And Maxine arranged to have him transferred by ambulance at five o'clock that afternoon. His mother could go with him to help settle him in, but she couldn't spend the night. Maxine explained everything to both of them, and said she would go to visit Jason there the next day. |
| 2940 |
The bright morning sunlight poured into the room, and she called out loudly, telling them to rise and shine. None of them looked well as they groaned and got up. And then, as she climbed out of bed, Daphne spotted the lineup of empty beer bottles on her dresser and saw the look in her mother's eyes. |
| 2941 |
Maxine was sure she was crying, but she wanted to leave her alone for now. "And this is only the beginning," Zelda said glumly, and then both women laughed. It didn't seem like the end of the world to either of them, but Maxine wanted to make a big impression on her daughter so it didn't happen again anytime soon. |
| 2942 |
According to Jack, their mother knew everything and had radar of some kind and X ray vision implanted in her head. It was part of the options package that came with moms. The four of them had a quiet dinner in the kitchen that night, and all of them went to bed early, since the next day was a school day. |
| 2943 |
Maxine was sound asleep at twelve o'clock when the nurse at Silver Pines called her. Jason Wexler had made another suicide attempt that night. He was in good condition and stable. He had taken off his pajamas and tried to hang himself with them, but the nurse assigned to him had found him and revived him. |
| 2944 |
Her daughter had gotten drunk on beer for the first time, and one of her patients had attempted suicide twice. All things considered, matters could have been a lot worse. Jason Wexler could have been dead. She was relieved he wasn't, although she would have liked to give Charles West a piece of her mind. |
| 2945 |
They were all grateful he was at Silver Pines, and that his third suicide attempt had been foiled. Helen was quick to give Maxine credit, and say that she'd been right. She shuddered to think what would have happened if she'd insisted on taking him home. More than likely, this time, he would have succeeded. |
| 2946 |
Both Helen and Maxine knew now that it was going to be a long haul for Jason. And contrary to his mother's initial hopes, he would not be home in time for Christmas. Maxine was now hoping that they would keep him there for six months to a year, although it was still too soon to say that to his mother. |
| 2947 |
Nothing could stop him. And much to her chagrin, Maxine knew from experience, he was right. What they had to do now was heal his wounded soul and spirit, and that was going to take time. Maxine was back on the freeway at four o'clock, and in her office, after some traffic on the bridge, just after five. |
| 2948 |
She thought about not taking the call, assuming she was in for more of the same pompous crap she'd heard from him the day before, and she wasn't in the mood. Although she always remained professional about her patients, and had good boundaries, she was profoundly sad about Jason, and for his mother. |
| 2949 |
He had read her CV, schools, degrees, noted her books, lectures, committees she had served on, and knew now that she had advised schools all over the country on trauma in younger children, and that the book she had written on suicide in teens was considered the definitive work written on the subject. |
| 2950 |
His sister's death shook them all up, understandably, and he's at a tough age. Sixteen year old boys are very vulnerable, and there are a lot of expectations in that family, academically and otherwise. Surviving only child, all of that. It's not easy for him. And his father's death blew him right off the map. |
| 2951 |
She's pretty shaken up. I referred her to a psychiatrist who does very good grief work, but having Jason in the hospital for the next several months, particularly over the holidays, won't be easy for her. And you know how it is with things like that, sometimes that kind of stress hits the immune system. |
| 2952 |
Calling her to acknowledge his mistake had been a decent thing to do. "Not at all," he said, and they hung up. Maxine got up from her desk and let a pretty young girl into her office. She was still extremely thin and looked far younger than she was. She looked ten or eleven, although she was about to turn fifteen. |
| 2953 |
Maxine nodded and they talked about it after that, among other things. Josephine had also met a boy she liked, now that she was back in school, and was feeling better about herself. It was a long, slow road back from the terrifying place she had been, when she weighed barely more than sixty pounds at thirteen. |
| 2954 |
As Sam had suggested, she found her on her bed, happily chatting on her cell phone. Daphne jumped when she saw her mother. Maxine advanced toward her with her hand held out for the phone. Looking nervous, Daphne put the cell phone in it, after rapidly disconnecting her friend without saying goodbye. |
| 2955 |
Maxine took off the jacket to her suit, and changed into flat shoes. She had worn high heels all day. She always looked professional for work, and relaxed when she got home. If she'd had time, she would have changed into jeans, but dinner had waited long enough, and she was starved, as were the kids. |
| 2956 |
It seemed mean to Maxine to make her eat alone, and with no father at the table, Maxine had always invited her to join them. The children talked about what they'd done that day, except for Daphne, who said little, and knew she was still in disgrace. And she was embarrassed about the incident with the phone. |
| 2957 |
She went to the opera, theater, and ballet, though not as much as she should have, she knew. It seemed like such an effort, and she loved staying home after a long day. She went to movies with her children, and medical dinners she couldn't get out of. But she knew what Daphne meant and she was right. |
| 2958 |
And in the meantime, she was fine like this. When she and Blake first broke up, she had always assumed she'd find someone else, maybe even get married again, but now that seemed less and less likely every year. Blake was the one swinging from the chandeliers, enjoying an active dating life, with gorgeous young girls. |
| 2959 |
They were a special breed, who gave their lives to the children they cared for and loved, and had none of their own. Maxine got Sam's clothes out for him and reminded Daphne to get off the phone and get dressed. Her daughter walked into her bathroom with her cell phone still glued to her ear and slammed the door. |
| 2960 |
She was planning to wear a beige pantsuit with a matching cashmere turtleneck sweater and high heels. She pulled the sweater over her head, and started brushing her hair. Ten minutes later Sam came in, with his shirt buttoned wrong, his fly open, and his hair sticking up all over the place, and she grinned. |
| 2961 |
Maxine had given them to her for her thirteenth birthday and allowed her to have her ears pierced. Now she wanted a second set of holes in her ears. "Everyone" had two pierces at least at school. So far Maxine hadn't given in, and her daughter looked lovely with her dark hair brushed softly around her face. |
| 2962 |
Daphne wanted to take a cab, but Maxine said the walk would do them good. It was a beautiful sunny November day, and the children were all looking forward to their father's arrival that afternoon. He was flying in from Paris, and they were due at his apartment in time for dinner. Maxine had agreed to go along. |
| 2963 |
Their grandparents were kind and loving, but they weren't used to having that many children around at once, particularly boys. Sam sneaked a deck of cards out of his pocket, and he and his grandfather started a game of Go Fish! while Maxine and her mother went out to the kitchen to check on the turkey. |
| 2964 |
Maxine always enjoyed visiting with her parents. They had been supportive of her all her life, and particularly so since her divorce from Blake. They had liked him, but thought he had been over the top ever since his big win in the dot com boom. The way he lived now was entirely beyond their understanding. |
| 2965 |
Her mother checked on the sweet potatoes in the oven, poked the turkey again to make sure it wasn't drying out, and turned to Maxine with a warm smile. She was a quiet, reserved woman who had been satisfied all her life to be in the background, be supportive of her husband, and she was proud to be a physician's wife. |
| 2966 |
She had done extensive charity work for the Junior League, was a volunteer at the hospital where her husband was on staff, and she enjoyed reading for the blind. She was satisfied, happy, and her life was full, but she worried that her daughter had too much responsibility on her shoulders, and worked too hard. |
| 2967 |
She had never been able to understand what he was doing or how he behaved, and she thought it remarkable that Maxine was so patient about it, and so tolerant of his complete lack of responsibility toward their children. In fact, she felt downright sorry for them for what they were missing, and for Maxine. |
| 2968 |
Had Maxine felt the need, she would have been more inclined to discuss things with her father, who had a more realistic view of the world. Her mother had been so sheltered through nearly fifty years of marriage that she was far less able to be helpful in any practical way. And Maxine hated to worry her. |
| 2969 |
She always prepared Christmas dinner too, which was a huge relief for Maxine, who had never been as domestic, and was more like her father in many ways. She also had his realistic, practical view of the world. She was more scientific than artistic, and as the breadwinner in her own family, she was more down to earth. |
| 2970 |
It looked like it was ready to be photographed for a magazine. "Everyone seems to break something during ski season, and as soon as it gets cold, people start falling on the ice and breaking hips." She had done it herself three years before, and had had a hip replacement. She had come out of it very well. |
| 2971 |
It was hard to believe that her parents were now that old. Her mother said grace, as she did every year, and then her father passed the turkey platter around. There was stuffing, cranberry jelly, sweet potatoes, wild rice, peas, spinach, chestnut puree, and rolls her mother made from scratch. It was a veritable feast. |
| 2972 |
And by the time lunch was over, they were so full they could hardly move. The meal had been finished off with apple, pumpkin, and mince pies, with a choice of vanilla ice cream or perfectly whipped cream. Sam's shirttail was hanging out when he left the table, the neck of his shirt was open, and his tie was askew. |
| 2973 |
Like her mother, he thought she worked too hard, but he was enormously proud of her, and just very sorry she was alone. It didn't seem fair to him, and he resented Blake for how things had turned out, far more than Maxine did herself. She had made her peace with it long since. Her parents never had. |
| 2974 |
Every moment they shared with him was precious. Her parents were sorry to see them leave. They hugged and kissed, and she and the children thanked them for the terrific meal. It was what everyone's Thanksgiving should be, and Maxine was grateful for the family she had. She knew just how lucky she was. |
| 2975 |
He had just gotten in. He was on his way in from the airport, and told them to be at his place at seven. He said everything was set and waiting for them. He was having dinner catered by a restaurant, and knowing they would have had turkey at their grandparents', he said he had ordered something different. |
| 2976 |
He had two entire floors, and from the moment he opened the door to them, it was pure Blake and the magical world he lived in. The music on the extraordinary sound system was blaring, the art and lighting were amazing, the view was beyond spectacular with glass exterior walls, picture windows, and enormous skylights. |
| 2977 |
He always drank Cristal. She took it and sipped it, admiring the view from his apartment. It was like flying over the city. Everything he owned or touched had that magical quality to it. He was what people dreamed of being if they hit it big, but very few people had Blake's style and ability to pull it off. |
| 2978 |
She was surprised he didn't have a woman with him this time, and a few minutes later, he explained it with a rueful smile. "I just got dumped," he said, by a twenty four year old supermodel, who had run off with a major rock star, who Blake said had a bigger plane. Maxine couldn't help laughing at the way he said it. |
| 2979 |
He had no desire whatsoever to settle down, and didn't want more kids, so eventually the young women he went out with had to marry someone else. Marriage with him was never an option, and the farthest thing from his mind. As they sat in his living room and chatted, Sam wandered in, and hopped up on his mother's lap. |
| 2980 |
The children wandered in and out, chatting easily with their parents, and getting used to Blake again. Daphne looked at him with open adoration, and when she left the room, Maxine told him about the incident with the beer, just so he was aware of it, and didn't let it happen when Daphne was with him. |
| 2981 |
They had the strangest relationship, like great friends, more than people who had been married for ten years and had three children. He was like the crazy pal she saw two or three times a year, while she was the responsible one, bringing up children and going to work every day. They were night and day. |
| 2982 |
She always missed them when they went away with him, but she wanted them to have a father, and it wasn't easy to manage with him. You had to catch him when he was willing, and able to make plans with them. "Do you want to have dinner with us tomorrow night?" he offered, as he walked her to the elevator. |
| 2983 |
And he'd had a good time since then. But he loved still having her in his life, and was glad she had never shut him out. He wondered if that would change when she found a serious man, and he never doubted that she would one day. He was surprised it had taken this long. "I might," she said, looking relaxed. |
| 2984 |
She still loved him. She always had. She had never stopped loving him. She just didn't want to be with him anymore. It didn't even bother her that he went out with girls in their twenties. It was hard to define their relationship. But whatever it was, and however strange, it worked for both of them. |
| 2985 |
The one she lived in looked better to her than ever. There was no part of his life that she still wanted. She had no need for that kind of excess and self indulgence. She was happy for him, but what she had was all she wanted. For the thousandth time since she left him, she knew she had made the right decision. |
| 2986 |
Maxine was sound asleep at four A.M. when the phone rang at her bedside. It took longer than usual to wake her up, as she had been sleeping deeply. She often fell into a deeper sleep when her children weren't around. As she glanced at the clock, she hoped that nothing had gone wrong at Blake's apartment. |
| 2987 |
Maxine had been seeing her for two years. She was the only child of extremely dedicated, loving parents who had done everything they could. There were some kids that, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't help. Maxine had hospitalized her four times in the last two years, with very little effect. |
| 2988 |
And after school, and over the years of covering each other's practices, they had become friends. Privately or professionally, she knew she could always count on Thelma. They were very similar in many ways, and equally dedicated to their work. Maxine felt completely at ease leaving her patients in her hands. |
| 2989 |
All they could do now was wait to see what happened. It was no secret to either of them, or to Hilary's parents, that if she didn't regain consciousness soon, there was a good chance she would be brain damaged forever, if she lived, which was still doubtful. Maxine was surprised she had survived what she'd taken. |
| 2990 |
The machine was breathing for her, she was immobile, and her face was gray. Maxine stood looking at her for a long moment, spoke to the team that had been with her since she got there, and had a word with the attending. Her heart was holding up, although the monitor had reported arrhythmia several times. |
| 2991 |
They had been with Hilary initially until the team asked them to leave. It was too upsetting to her parents to watch what was happening, and the residents and nurses needed room to move. Angela Anderson was crying when Maxine walked in to see them, and Phil had his arms around her, and had obviously been crying too. |
| 2992 |
They worked on Hilary's lifeless form for half an hour, until the resident finally signaled to the rest of the team. It was over. Hilary was gone. They all stood looking at each other for a long, painful moment, and then the resident turned to Maxine, as they turned off the respirator and took it out of Hilary's mouth. |
| 2993 |
She had been there the last time Hilary came in, and helped to save her life. The team had been just as good this time, but Hilary's chances of survival had been considerably worse. As they spoke, Maxine noticed a tall man in a white doctor's coat standing nearby, watching them, and she had no idea who he was. |
| 2994 |
He insisted they'd have a ball, but she resisted, and he could hear that she was down. In fact, he had been planning to take the children Christmas shopping for her, and Tiffany and Cartier were on their list, but he didn't mention it to her. Instead, he invited her to meet them for dinner, and she declined that too. |
| 2995 |
Maxine told them again how very sorry she was, and they thanked her for all her help. But even knowing she had done everything possible, Maxine still had an overwhelming sense of defeat and loss. Blake called her again, as she was dressing to go out for a walk. He was checking up on her to make sure she was okay. |
| 2996 |
He was planning to take them skating the next day, and she said she might do that with them. But today, since the children were busy and in good hands, she wanted to be alone. Blake said to call if she changed her mind, and she promised she would. It was nice having him in town, to give her a breather for a change. |
| 2997 |
She went for a walk in the park and then hung around the house for the rest of the afternoon, and made herself some soup for dinner. Sam called her before they went to the play, and he was excited about seeing it with his father. "Have fun with Daddy tonight, and I'll come skating with you tomorrow," she promised. |
| 2998 |
He just got worse once he had the means to indulge it. There have always been men like him in the world. In the old days, they became sea captains, adventurers, explorers. Christopher Columbus probably left a bunch of kids at home too. Some guys just aren't made to hang around and be normal husbands and dads. |
| 2999 |
It made her wonder if Zelda regretted not having children of her own, but she didn't want to ask. They sat at the kitchen table and chatted while Maxine ate dinner, and then they each went back to their own rooms. Zelda very seldom went out in the evening, even on her days off. And Maxine was kind of a homebody too. |
| 3000 |
The children headed straight for the projection room to watch a movie before dinner, and seemed perfectly at home being there with him. They always readjusted quickly when he appeared. Daphne had called two of her friends to come by. She loved showing off his glamorous penthouse, and her handsome father. |
| 3001 |
He was meeting friends to go to a rock concert there. He knew the stars who would be performing too. Sometimes it seemed, even to Maxine, as though he knew everyone in the world. Several times, he had introduced his children to wellknown actors and rock stars, and he was invited backstage everywhere he went. |
| 3002 |
They walked through the main restaurant, and were given a private dining room. It was an excellent dinner, and they all had a good time. They dropped Maxine off afterward, and then Blake and the kids went back to his apartment. He was bringing them back to Maxine at five the next day before he left. |
| 3003 |
And as usual, when left to her own devices, she spent the day working. She was at her computer, working on an article, when they got home. Blake hadn't come up, as he was late leaving for the airport, and the kids were overflowing with excitement when they walked in. And Sam was particularly happy to see her. |
| 3004 |
When he loaned her his yacht every year, for their summer vacations, he wasn't there. Besides, this was his time to be with the kids. But it was sweet of Sam to ask her. They told her about all the things they'd done and seen with him in the past three days, and all three of them were in high spirits. |
| 3005 |
He made everything they did an adventure and fun for them. At dinner, Daphne said her father had told her she could use his apartment any time, even when he wasn't around, and her mother looked surprised by the offer. He had never said that before, and Maxine wondered if Daphne had misunderstood him. |
| 3006 |
What Maxine was planning to say to Blake was to warn him not to be manipulated by his children, nor to set them up for disaster by giving them too much freedom as they headed into their teens. She just hoped that he was willing to cooperate with her. If not, the next several years were going to be a nightmare. |
| 3007 |
The thought of it and the kind of things that could go on there made her shudder. She was definitely going to say something to him about it. And for sure, Daphne wouldn't like it. As usual, Maxine had to be the heavy. Maxine finished her article that night, and the children watched television in their bedrooms. |
| 3008 |
The next morning at breakfast was chaos. Everyone had woken up late. Jack spilled cereal all over the table, Daphne couldn't find her cell phone and refused to leave for school until she did, Sam burst into tears when he discovered he'd left his favorite shoes at his father's apartment, and Zelda had a toothache. |
| 3009 |
He suggested a restaurant that was near her office, to make it convenient for her. It was small and pleasant and she occasionally had lunch there with her mother. It had been years since she took time out to lunch with girlfriends. She preferred to see patients, and at night she stayed home with the kids. |
| 3010 |
She had been so upset about Hilary Anderson on Friday morning that all she remembered was that he was tall, and had graying blond hair. The rest of his appearance was a blur, not that it mattered. She made a note in her book, returned two more calls as quickly as she could, and saw her last patient. |
| 3011 |
The day ended as it began, harried and stressful. And she managed to burn dinner, so they ordered pizza. The next two days were equally stressful, and it was Thursday morning when she suddenly remembered the lunch date she had made with Charles West. She sat at her desk looking at her appointment book bleakly. |
| 3012 |
She didn't even know him, nor want to. The last thing she needed was lunch with a total stranger. She glanced at her watch and realized that she was already five minutes late, grabbed her coat, and hurried out of the office. She didn't even have time to put on lipstick or comb her hair, not that she cared. |
| 3013 |
He stood up when he saw her walk in, and she recognized him. He was tall, as she had remembered, and nice looking, and appeared as though he was in his late forties. He smiled and stood up as she approached the table. "I'm sorry I'm late," she said, slightly flustered, as he noticed the look of caution in her eyes. |
| 3014 |
They chatted easily all through lunch, and she said she had to get back to see patients, and so did he. He told her how much he'd enjoyed her company, and said he'd like to see her again. She still couldn't figure out if it had been a date, or a professional courtesy, of one physician meeting another. |
| 3015 |
Thinking about it that way was actually depressing, and most of the time she tried not to. She just hadn't met anyone she liked in a long time, and sometimes she wondered if she didn't want to. She had gone out with a number of people after she and Blake split up, and had gotten tired of being disappointed. |
| 3016 |
When she saw her old married friends, they didn't go to restaurants, and she went to their homes for dinner. And she was even doing that less often. She had let her social life dwindle from lack of attention and interest. Charles had reminded her, without meaning to, of what a slug she had been about going out. |
| 3017 |
He walked her back to her office, and she liked striding along beside him. He had been good company over lunch. And then she thanked him for lunch again, and walked back into her office, feeling dazed. She had a date. An honest to God dinner date, with a fairly attractive forty nine year old internist. |
| 3018 |
He had told her his age over lunch. She didn't know what to make of it, although she realized with a smile to herself that, if nothing else, her father would be pleased. She'd have to tell him about it the next time they talked. Or maybe after the date. And then, all thoughts of Charles West went out of her head. |
| 3019 |
Sam went to two birthday parties, and she carpooled for both of them, and Daphne had ten friends in for pizza. It was the first time she had had friends over since the fateful beer party, so Maxine kept a close eye on them, but nothing untoward happened. Zelda was back on her feet again, but had the weekend off. |
| 3020 |
And two of her patients were hospitalized over the weekend, one for an overdose, and the other for observation as a suicide risk. She had six kids to visit in two different hospitals on Monday, and a slew of patients in her office. And when she got home, Zelda was sick as a dog with flu and a fever. |
| 3021 |
They could manage. And they would have, if the gods hadn't conspired against her. Maxine had patients back to back all day. Tuesday was her day to see new patients, she had histories to take, and first meetings with adolescents were crucial, so she needed her wits about her. At noon, Sam's school called her. |
| 3022 |
It was like leaving the wounded with the maimed, but she had no other choice. She showered, changed, and had to get back to the office. She was ten minutes late for her next patient, which made a poor impression, and the girl's mother complained about it. Maxine explained that her son was sick and apologized profusely. |
| 3023 |
She had enough on her hands. She sat down at the kitchen table with him and they chatted for a few minutes. He had certainly had his trial by fire, and had met them all. Sam throwing up as he walked in was certainly one way to introduce Charles to her children, though not the one she would have chosen. |
| 3024 |
He didn't see why his mother needed a man around. They were doing fine the way they were. It didn't shock them that their father went out with women, even a lot of them. They weren't used to seeing a man in their mother's life, and none of them liked the idea. It worked fine for them having her to themselves. |
| 3025 |
They didn't finish until twelve o'clock. It had been a hell of a day, and a long night. And when she finally slipped into her bed next to Sam, she had a minute to think about Charles. She had no idea what would come of it, or if she'd see him again after Friday night, but in its own way, tonight hadn't been so bad. |
| 3026 |
She was a serious, intelligent woman with a booming career in the medical field, highly respected, and she was beautiful as well. It was a combination that was tough to beat. The only thing about her that unnerved him somewhat were her kids. He just wasn't used to that, and didn't feel a need for children in his life. |
| 3027 |
Maxine and Charles left her apartment at a quarter to eight, and reached the restaurant precisely on time, and were given an excellent table. The evening had been perfect so far, he observed, but the night was young. Nothing would have startled him now, after the introduction he'd had to her life three days before. |
| 3028 |
He liked Maxine a lot, and she was great to talk to. For the first half of dinner, over scallops, soft shell crab, followed by pheasant and Chateaubriand, they discussed their work, and current medical issues that were pertinent to both of them. He liked her ideas, and was impressed by her accomplishments. |
| 3029 |
That's just his style, it always was. The other path he could have chosen was to pour his money into philanthropy. And he does a fair amount of that, but he's not involved in charity in any hands on kind of way. Basically, he figures that life is short, he's been lucky, and he wants to have a good time. |
| 3030 |
I see him with the kids whenever he's in town. I'm still part of his life in a different way, as a friend and the mother of his kids. He knows he can count on me. He always could. And he has plenty of girlfriends, who are a lot younger and a lot more fun than I am, or ever was. I was always too serious for him. |
| 3031 |
He liked that about her, and she suited him just fine. He found her relationship with her ex husband strange. He almost never spoke to his ex wife. Without children to bind them to each other, after the divorce there was nothing left, but a fair amount of animosity between them. Mostly, there was nothing. |
| 3032 |
She didn't need to throw her weight around, and rarely did, except when a patient's life was at stake, but never to feed her ego. In many ways, to Charles, she seemed like the perfect woman, and he had never met anyone like her. "How do your children feel about your dating?" he asked her as they finished dinner. |
| 3033 |
And in turn, with everything that had happened after that, they had surprised the hell out of him. He had told a friend about it the next day, who had roared with laughter at Charles's description of the chaotic scene, and had said in no uncertain terms that it would do him good and loosen him up a little. |
| 3034 |
The doctors she met always seemed pompous to her, or she had nothing in common with them, and they found the demands of her practice and home life too taxing. Most men didn't want a woman or a wife who went to the hospital for emergencies at four in the morning, and had that many demands on them outside the home. |
| 3035 |
Blake hadn't loved it either, but her medical career had always been important to her, and her children even more so. Her cup was very full, and as Tuesday night had proven, it didn't take much for it to run over. There wasn't much room, if any, for anyone else. And he suspected that that suited her children. |
| 3036 |
It had been clearly written on all their faces when he met them, that they wanted her to themselves, and he was not welcome in their midst. They didn't need him. And he suspected she didn't either. She didn't have that desperate quality of most women her age, who wanted more than anything to meet a man. |
| 3037 |
I could only make the adjustment for the right man. I'd have to really believe it could work. I don't want to make another mistake. Blake and I were just too different. You don't notice it as much when you're young. After a certain point, when you're grown up and know who you are, it really matters. |
| 3038 |
It's all good fun when you're a kid. Later, it's another story. And it's not so easy to find the right match, there are a lot fewer candidates, and even with the good ones, there's a lot of baggage. It has to be worth the effort of making the adjustment. And my children give me an excuse not to try. |
| 3039 |
He dealt with the common cold, a host of more mundane ailments and situations, and the occasional sadness of a patient with cancer whom he immediately referred to a specialist and lost sight of. His practice did not revolve around crisis the way hers did, although he occasionally lost a patient too, but it was rare. |
| 3040 |
It was his favorite restaurant in town, although he liked Le Cirque too. He had a great fondness for excellent French food, and the atmosphere that went with it. He liked pomp and ceremony far more than she did, and adult evenings. He wondered as he talked to her if going out with her children would be fun too. |
| 3041 |
That wasn't his style. He moved slowly and deliberately when he liked a woman, setting the stage for something to happen later on, if they both chose that. He was in no rush, and never liked to push women too hard or too soon. It had to be a mutual decision, and he knew Maxine was nowhere near that point. |
| 3042 |
The concept of a relationship was not even on her mind. He would have to bring her around to that slowly, if he decided it was what he wanted. He wasn't sure about it yet either. She was nice to talk to and spend time with, the rest remained to be seen. Her kids were still a big hurdle for him to get over. |
| 3043 |
She thanked him again and gently closed the door. Jack was asleep in his room by then, after the party he'd gone to, as was Zelda in hers. The apartment was quiet as Maxine got undressed, brushed her teeth, and got into bed, thinking about Charles. It had been nice, there was no question about that. |
| 3044 |
But it felt weird to her to be out with a man. It was so grown up, and so polite. And so was he. She couldn't imagine hanging around with him on a Sunday afternoon, with her kids around her, as she did with Blake when he was in town. But then again, he was their father, and his life wasn't home centered either. |
| 3045 |
But he wasn't light hearted or playful or a lot of fun. For a moment, she missed that in her life, and then realized that you couldn't have everything. If she ever got seriously involved with anyone again, she had always said she wanted someone solid she could rely on. Charles was certainly that kind of man. |
| 3046 |
It was a shame that nowhere on the planet there was a man who could be both a kind of grown up Peter Pan, with good values. It was a lot to ask, and probably why, she told herself, she was still alone, and maybe always would be. You couldn't live with a man like Blake, and you might not want to with a man like Charles. |
| 3047 |
He had invited Maxine to join them, but she had decided not to come, and said he needed time alone with the children, which seemed silly to him. They always had a good time when she came along. Most of the time, she just overlapped for a day here and there when he loaned her his boat, or one of his houses. |
| 3048 |
He had introduced Blake to a number of other players in the rock star world, and several remarkable women. Blake's brief affair with one of the biggest female rock stars in the world had made headlines everywhere, until she spoiled everything and married someone else. That wasn't his game, and he was honest about it. |
| 3049 |
He never pretended to anyone that he wanted to get married, or was even open to it. He had far too much money now. Marriage was much too dangerous for him, unless he married someone who had as much as he did, and those were never the women he went after. He liked them young, lively, and unencumbered. |
| 3050 |
Every royal, model, actress, socialite, aristocrat, and rock star was there. It was everything that Blake loved, and his world. He had talked to half a dozen women that night, met some interesting men, and was thinking about leaving, when he ordered one last drink at the bar, and saw a pretty redhead smiling at him. |
| 3051 |
She had a diamond in her nose, was wearing a ruby bindi and a sari, had spiky hair, and tattoos running down her arms, and she was staring unabashedly at him. She didn't look Indian, but the ruby bindi between her eyebrows confused him, and the sari she wore was the color of a summer sky, the same color as her eyes. |
| 3052 |
It seems rather frightening to me. All that responsibility, they get sick, you have to make sure they're doing well in school, have good manners. It's even harder than training a horse or a dog, and I'm terrible at both. I had a dog once that did its business all over my house. I'm sure I'd be even worse with kids. |
| 3053 |
He spent a lot of time on the London scene. He told her about the house in Marrakech then, visibly excited about it, and she agreed that it sounded like a fabulous project. She said that she had nearly studied architecture and decided not to, she could never do the math. She said she'd been terrible in school. |
| 3054 |
I think she was engaged to some very fancy Frenchman, a marquis or something. I don't know what happened, but she didn't marry him. She went out to India instead, had an affair with some very important Indian chap, and came home, with a hell of a lot of good looking jewels. I can't believe you don't know her. |
| 3055 |
Just the bare bones necessary to make the appointment for lunch. He wondered if she'd show up in the bindi and the sari. All he knew was that he couldn't wait to see her. He hadn't been this excited about anyone in years. Blake arrived at Santa Lucia promptly at one the next day, and stood at the bar waiting for her. |
| 3056 |
Arabella walked in twenty minutes later, her short red hair sticking up straight, a miniskirt, high heeled brown suede boots, and an enormous lynx coat. She looked like a character in a movie, and there was no sign of her bindi. She looked more like Milan or Paris, and her eyes were the electrifying blue he remembered. |
| 3057 |
She was very glamorous, and at the same time very unassuming, and Blake loved that about her. He felt like a puppy at her feet, which was rare for him, as the headwaiter took them to their table, and made as big a fuss over Arabella as he did over Blake. The conversation flowed with ease over lunch. |
| 3058 |
They exchanged thoughts about everything imaginable and left the restaurant at four o'clock. He said he'd love to see her work, and she invited him to the studio the next day, after her next session with Tony Blair. She said other than that, she had an easy week, and was of course leaving for the country on Friday. |
| 3059 |
Everyone who was anyone in England went to the country on the weekend, to their homes or someone else's. When they left each other on the street, he could hardly wait to see her again. He was suddenly obsessed with her, and sent her flowers that afternoon, with a clever note. She called the minute they arrived. |
| 3060 |
Everything about her was a little crazy, but utterly fascinating to him. She showed him several portraits in progress, and some old ones she had done for herself. There were some beautiful horse portraits, and he thought the one of the prime minister extremely good. She was as talented as Mick Jagger had said. |
| 3061 |
He drank two glasses with her, in spite of his aversion to champagne. He would have drunk poison for her, and then he suggested they go back to his place. He wanted to show her his treasures now too. He had some very important art, and an absolutely spectacular house that he loved and was very proud of. |
| 3062 |
She liked their intelligent, adult conversations, and he didn't seem quite as serious as he had before. He had a sense of humor after all, although he kept it in check. Nothing about Charles ever seemed out of control. He said he preferred everything in his life planned and in good order, moderate, predictable. |
| 3063 |
It was the kind of life Maxine had always wanted, which had been impossible with Blake. And it wasn't totally feasible for her either, with three children and the unpredictable elements in their lives, and the kind of practice she had, where the unexpected happened regularly. But their personalities were a good fit. |
| 3064 |
She liked having that in common with him. It was a strong bond to share medical careers. They gave the driver the hospital's address uptown, and sped north as Maxine explained the situation to Charles. The girl had cut herself, slashed her wrists, and stabbed herself in the heart with a kitchen knife. |
| 3065 |
And by sheer miracle, her mother had found her fast enough to make a difference. The paramedics had been on the scene in minutes. They had given her two units of blood so far, her heart had stopped twice on the way in, and they had gotten it going again. She was hovering near death, but still alive. |
| 3066 |
Her optimism was still guarded, but she had a feeling they were going to win this one, and had snatched victory from the jaws of death. "I don't know how to tell you how impressed I am with what you do," Charles said softly. He had an arm around her shoulders, and she was leaning against him on the ride home. |
| 3067 |
It was sooner than either of them had planned to kiss, but tonight had changed a lot of things for both of them. They had somehow formed a bond. He kissed her again, harder this time, and she kissed him back as he slipped his arms around her and held her close to him. "I'll call you later," he whispered. |
| 3068 |
It was hard to say which of the three had shaken her most. Her patient's suicide attempt undoubtedly, but she felt as though lightning had struck her when Charles kissed her. But it felt nice too. She had loved having him there for her. In so many ways, Charles seemed like everything she had ever wanted. |
| 3069 |
Her children were still asleep, and she was hoping she'd get some sleep before she had to get moving with them. And she wasn't prepared for Daphne's attack, when she finally got up after two hours' sleep, and was drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen around eleven. Daphne was glaring at her in fury. |
| 3070 |
Maxine went back to the hospital at noon, and was delighted to find that Eloise was doing well. She had regained consciousness, and Maxine was able to talk to her, although she wouldn't say why she had made the attempt. Maxine was recommending a long term hospitalization for her, and her parents had agreed. |
| 3071 |
And much to their delight, Jack's team won the game. By the time they all got back to the apartment at five o'clock, they were in better spirits. Daphne was home by then and was very subdued. When Charles called her at six, he said he had just woken up, and was stunned to hear she had run around all day. |
| 3072 |
When Charles showed up the next day, Daphne was in her room, and Maxine had to coax, beg, and threaten her to finally emerge for dinner. She came to the kitchen, but she made it clear with her body language and behavior that she was there under protest. She ignored Charles completely, and looked at her mother in fury. |
| 3073 |
In Arabella's case, he just wanted her to himself, and she was more than willing. She had been staying in his London house with him since they met. And they had already been in the tabloids together numerous times. Daphne had spotted them in People magazine, and had showed it to her mother, with a disapproving look. |
| 3074 |
She knew Blake, and she didn't believe him when he said this was different. He always said that. She couldn't imagine him being serious about anyone, although this woman was older than his usual fare, but she was still only twenty nine, a kid as far as Maxine was concerned. And then Maxine volunteered her news. |
| 3075 |
It was going to be a honeymoon of sorts for them, and it had been a long time for her, but they had been dating for six weeks. She couldn't put it off forever. Sleeping with him seemed like a huge step. Blake picked the children up in the morning as promised, and Maxine didn't go downstairs to see him. |
| 3076 |
Charles called her on the road twice, to make sure she was all right. It was snowing north of Boston, but the roads were clear, although it got heavier when she got to New Hampshire, and by then she had heard from her children. Daphne had called her the minute they landed in Aspen, and sounded frantic. |
| 3077 |
The trip took longer than she expected because of the snow, and she got to Charles's place at eight o'clock. It was a small, neat little New England house with a peaked roof and a rustic fence around it. It looked like something on a postcard. He came out to greet her as soon as she drove up, and carried in her bags. |
| 3078 |
She was disappointed to note that there would have been nowhere to put her kids, if it ever came to that. Not even a guest room where she could have crammed all three into one bed. It was a house suitable for a bachelor, or at most a couple, and nothing else, which was how he lived. And he liked it that way. |
| 3079 |
It seemed a little premature since she had never slept with him, and now they would be sharing a bed. What if she decided not to sleep with him? she asked herself. But it was too late now, she was there. She suddenly felt very brave coming up, and shy as he bustled around showing her where things were. |
| 3080 |
He sounded like he was volunteering for the job, and she was touched. He kissed her again, and this time no one called, no one disturbed them. She followed him back inside, and they took turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. It was faintly embarrassing and kind of funny, and Maxine giggled as she got into bed. |
| 3081 |
He said he had been falling in love with her since they met. And she told him as gently as she could that she needed more time before knowing that. There was so much she liked about him, and so much that she hoped to feel as she grew to know him better. She felt safe with him, which was important to her. |
| 3082 |
He made breakfast for her, pancakes and Vermont maple syrup, with crisp strips of bacon. She looked at him tenderly, and he kissed her across the table. This was what he had been dreaming of since they met. Time like this was hard to come by in her life. Her children had already called her twice before breakfast. |
| 3083 |
Maybe you missed something in your childhood after all. Look at the British, they send their children away at six or eight, and some of them are screwed up because of it and talk about it later as adults. You can't send a child away at that age, and not have it take a toll. People have trouble attaching after that. |
| 3084 |
There was definitely a piece missing in Charles, when it came to kids, and she thought it was too bad. Maybe it was the piece that made her hesitate about him even now. She wanted to love him, but she needed to know that he could love her kids too, and surely not by lobbying to send them away to boarding school. |
| 3085 |
The very thought of it made her shudder. He could see that, and immediately backed off. He didn't want to upset her, although he thought it would have been a great idea, if she were willing. She wasn't. That was clear. They went skiing that afternoon in Sugarbush, and it was easy and fun skiing with him. |
| 3086 |
Arabella had no idea how to deal with her, but she told Blake she was determined to hang in. He insisted they were good kids. He wanted it to work with his kids. Daphne was doing everything possible to see that it wouldn't. And she was trying to rile the boys up against Arabella, but so far it hadn't worked. |
| 3087 |
They thought she was okay, although her tattoos and her hair were a little weird. Jack paid virtually no attention to Arabella, and Sam was polite. Sam had inquired about the bindi, and his father had told him that Arabella had worn them since she lived in India, and he thought it looked really pretty. |
| 3088 |
She had made several unpleasant remarks about her mother's friend Charles too. She seemed to want her parents staying solo these days, which was not very realistic. Blake was happy that Maxine finally had someone. She deserved a little comfort and companionship in her life. He didn't begrudge it to her. |
| 3089 |
The best she could hope for was an uneasy truce, which was what she had gotten so far. It was still a vast improvement over Daphne's behavior in the beginning. But Blake didn't envy his ex wife if this was what she had to deal with whenever her current boyfriend was around. He was amazed the guy put up with it. |
| 3090 |
She had driven down from Vermont that day, and had just gotten home when Blake dropped them off at the apartment. Arabella was waiting for him at the penthouse, and they were leaving for London that night. Sam immediately threw his arms around his mother with a shout of delight and almost knocked her down. |
| 3091 |
They were going to stay at the La Mamounia, and he was taking his architect with him. He already had blueprints for the house, and they looked fabulous to him. The project was going to take at least a year, which was fine with Blake. The best part was the planning, and the excitement of watching it take shape. |
| 3092 |
They chatted excitedly about it for the whole trip. And she was struck by the beauty of the place the moment they landed. They arrived at sunset, with a soft glow over the Atlas Mountains as they flew in. A car was waiting to take them to the hotel and Arabella was dazzled as they drove through the city. |
| 3093 |
Blake had asked his driver to wait for them, and he and Arabella wanted to go out and explore, after they had a quiet meal in their garden. It was magical and exotic just being there. They both showered and changed, and ate a light meal at the table in the garden, and then went out together hand in hand. |
| 3094 |
It had turrets and arches, and an enormous inner courtyard with beautiful old mosaics inset into the walls, and the rooms of the house were huge. It truly was a palace, and Blake's eyes danced as he walked through it with the architect and Arabella. She made some terrific suggestions for paint colors and the decor. |
| 3095 |
It was a perfect little town, with the restaurants, the bazaars with their exotic wares, and the beauty of nature beyond them. And there was a lively social life as well. Arabella had several French friends who had moved to Marrakech, and she and Blake had dinner with them before they left. It had been a terrific trip. |
| 3096 |
Arabella loved his house there, and a week later they took off on his boat. It was the largest sailboat she had ever seen, and they headed for the Grenadine Islands, just north of Venezuela. She had had to reorganize all her portrait sitting sessions to be with him, and travel with him, but it was worth it. |
| 3097 |
In her personal life, things were going well with Charles. The winter was flying by. And even Daphne was settling down. She and Charles might never be best friends, but she had stopped making overtly rude comments about him, and once in a while she even let her guard down when he was around, and they had a good laugh. |
| 3098 |
It was easiest for him with Jack and Sam, and he had taken both of them to several basketball games. Daphne was too busy with her own social life to join them, although he always invited her as well. Maxine was extremely careful not to let them know that she and Charles were sleeping with each other. |
| 3099 |
She tried to stay at his apartment once or twice a week, but she always came home before the children got up to go to school. It made for short nights for them, and very little sleep for her, but she thought it was important to do that. And once in a while, they went away for a weekend. It was the best they could do. |
| 3100 |
It was a perfect evening, and Charles came upstairs afterward. She poured him a glass of brandy, and they sat in the living room, as they often did, talking about what was going on in their lives. He was fascinated by her work, and after the recent school shootings, she was scheduled to speak to Congress again. |
| 3101 |
He had made up his mind in the last two weeks, and he was going to share his thoughts with her tonight. "It's great for me too," she said, as she leaned over and kissed him. They had left the lights off in the living room, it was relaxing and romantic that way, and she could taste the brandy on his lips. |
| 3102 |
Listening to him, she was suddenly afraid he wanted to move in. And she knew only too well that that would traumatize her kids. They had finally gotten used to her dating him. Living together would have been too much, and it wasn't her style. She liked the fact that she had her apartment, and he had his. |
| 3103 |
She was afraid they still might, even in June. They weren't going to be thrilled about it, she knew. They had just barely accepted him, and it didn't even occur to them that she might remarry. They had stopped worrying about that in the beginning, when she reassured them that she wouldn't, and she had believed it then. |
| 3104 |
But then again, she and Charles were older and this made more sense. Charles was the kind of solid, reliable man she had always wanted, not a madman like Blake, however charming he was, that you could never count on. Charles was no rogue, he was a man. And this felt right, even if it was surprising. |
| 3105 |
And as she locked the door and walked to her bedroom, she turned it around in her mind. It wasn't at all what she had expected, but now that they had decided, it sounded like a wonderful plan to her too. She just hoped the kids would take the news well. She was glad Charles had agreed to wait. She loved the whole idea. |
| 3106 |
Although Charles and Maxine didn't tell the children their plans and kept them private for the moment, having made them between themselves changed everything subtly anyway. Charles suddenly had a proprietary air about him whenever he was around Maxine or the kids, and Daphne was quick to pick it up. |
| 3107 |
She was hoping that in the coming months, they would accept it a little more each day. March was a busy month for Maxine. She attended two conferences at opposite ends of the country, one in San Diego on the effects of national traumatic events on children under twelve, where she was the main speaker. |
| 3108 |
It was a terrible time for her, and Thelma lost one of her patients too, an eighteenyear old boy she had worked with for four years, and she was heartbroken for the family, and missed the boy herself. September was also an equally dangerous month, and statistically prime time for suicides in adolescent boys. |
| 3109 |
Zelda knew nothing of Maxine's upcoming marriage. But they were planning to tell the children in three weeks when they got out of school. Maxine was apprehensive about it, but excited too. It was time to share their big news with them. Zelda didn't mention the idea of adoption again, and Maxine forgot about it. |
| 3110 |
How could they let that happen to her son? She was shaking when she hung up, and rushed back into her office. She'd been seeing a seventeen yearold boy, who had been a patient for two years, and had taken the call at her secretary's desk. She explained to her patient what had happened, and he told her how sorry he was. |
| 3111 |
Maxine was beside herself as she waited. And later that afternoon, they let her take him home. Charles was still with her, and Sam was holding both their hands. It tore at her heart to see the condition he was in, and they settled him in her bed. They had painkillers to give him, and he was very groggy. |
| 3112 |
He said there had been an earthquake there, a bad one. And suddenly Maxine vaguely remembered hearing about it. But all she'd thought about for the last week was Sam. He had been miserable with the ribs, and had a headache for several days from the concussion. The arm and leg weren't as bad since they were in casts. |
| 3113 |
Sam was thrilled to talk to his dad and told him all about it. He said Charles had stayed in the operating room with him, and held his hand. He told Blake that his mom was upset and the doctor wouldn't let her come in, which was true. She had nearly fainted, worrying about her son. Charles had been the hero of the day. |
| 3114 |
By then, Maxine had read all about the earthquake in Morocco. It was a big one, and two villages had literally been destroyed and everyone in them killed. There was even extensive damage in the cities. Blake had been telling the truth. But she was still upset that she hadn't been able to reach him for their son. |
| 3115 |
It was June, and school was out. Maxine gathered everyone in the kitchen on Saturday morning. Charles was there with her, which she wasn't entirely convinced was a good idea, but he wanted to be there when she told them, and she felt she owed it to him. He had proven himself with Sam, she couldn't shut him out now. |
| 3116 |
And the children could unburden themselves later to her, if they had anything to say about it. She sounded a little vague at first, talking about how kind Charles had been to them in the last several months. She looked at each of her children as she said it, as though trying to convince them as well as remind them. |
| 3117 |
You couldn't have everything. And if he had children of his own, they might not have liked that either. This was simpler. Maxine cooked dinner for the children that night, and everyone pushed their food around their plates. None of them could eat, including Maxine. She hated the look on their faces. |
| 3118 |
We airlifted in some bulldozers to help them. They're still digging people out. Max, there are kids walking around the streets here with nowhere to go. Whole families got wiped out, and children are still looking for their parents. There are injured people lying everywhere, because the hospitals are full. |
| 3119 |
She was thinking about Blake in the devastation after the earthquake in Morocco and all he was doing to help orphans and wounded people, clear away rubble, and fly in medicines and food. For once, he was doing more than just putting his money to good use, he was rolling up his sleeves to do the work himself. |
| 3120 |
If so, it was long overdue. Maxine called her parents in the morning, and finally someone was thrilled with the news. Her father said he was delighted and he liked him, and that Charles was just the kind of man he had hoped she would find and marry one day. And it pleased him that he was a physician too. |
| 3121 |
She wanted Charles to get to know them better, particularly since he had no family himself. It was nice for everyone that her parents were so happy for them, and that they approved. It mattered a great deal to Maxine, and she hoped it would to Charles too. It would help to balance the children's lack of enthusiasm. |
| 3122 |
They were engaged to be married, no matter how unhappy her children appeared to be about it. It was a wonderful thing, and Charles kissed her as they both looked down at the ring. It sparkled as brightly as her hopes for their marriage, and their love for each other, which hadn't dimmed in the last difficult days. |
| 3123 |
Blake called Maxine in the office between patients, and it had already been a crazy day for her. She had dealt with three new referrals, and she had just been arguing with the caterer in Southampton about the price of the tent for their wedding. The price was insane, but there was no question that they needed one. |
| 3124 |
The government systems are so overwhelmed that the private sector is trying to see what they can do to bail them out. I've taken on a huge project for the kids, and I'm doing it myself. I need some advice about what kind of assistance they're going to need, both long term and now. It's right up your alley. |
| 3125 |
The session was longer than usual, and afterward Maxine hurried home. All her children were hanging out in the kitchen with Zelda when she got there, and she told them about their dad and what he was doing in Morocco. Their eyes shone as she told them, and she mentioned that he had asked her to join him. |
| 3126 |
And Thelma was doing the weekend anyway. Maxine made some other calls, checked her computer to see what appointments she had on Friday, and by eight o'clock she had made a decision. She hadn't even stopped for dinner. This was the least she could do, and Blake was making it easy for her by sending his plane. |
| 3127 |
It had taken him one hell of a long time. At forty six, he was turning into a real human being. She waited until midnight to call him. It was very early morning for him by then. She had to try several times on both his cell phones, and finally got through. He sounded even more exhausted than he had the day before. |
| 3128 |
He told her he had been up all night, again. It was the nature of the beast in those situations, Maxine knew, and what everyone had to do. If she went, she would be doing that too, so as not to lose any more time than they already had. There was no time to waste or spend on food or sleep. Blake was living that now. |
| 3129 |
He promised to take care of everything at his end, and he thanked her another dozen times before they hung up. "I'm proud of you, Mom," Daphne said softly when her mother hung up. She had been standing in the doorway, listening to her end of the conversation, and there were tears rolling down her cheeks. |
| 3130 |
There was nothing unusual about it, she knew, but it was damn hard to live with. Maxine was a full half hour late at her office, and continued to run late all day. She hadn't had time to talk to Charles again. She was swamped, seeing patients, and canceling whatever appointments she could for the end of the week. |
| 3131 |
But Charles wasn't ready to give it up. She hated leaving knowing that he was still angry at her, but he refused to relent. Maxine thought it was childish of him, but decided to let him calm down while she was away. There was no other choice. When she called him later, she found he had even turned off his phone. |
| 3132 |
It was beautiful there in June. She would have loved it if he had the kind of relationship with her children where he would see them even without her, since he was going to become their stepfather in two months, but he didn't. And she knew that, in her absence, the children wouldn't want to see him either. |
| 3133 |
She knew she'd need all the rest she could get before she got there, and it was easy to do in the luxury of Blake's plane. It was handsomely decorated in beige and gray fabrics and leathers. There were cashmere blankets on every seat, mohair couches, and thick gray wool carpets throughout the plane. |
| 3134 |
The bedroom was done in a pale yellow, and Maxine fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. She slept like a baby for six hours, and when she woke up, she lay in bed, thinking about Charles. She was still upset that he was so angry at her, but she knew that going to Morocco had been the right decision. |
| 3135 |
She combed her hair and brushed her teeth, and put her heavy boots back on. She hadn't used them for a while and had retrieved them from the back of her closet, where she kept clothes for situations like this. She had brought rough gear with her, and suspected she'd be sleeping in what she wore for the next few days. |
| 3136 |
And she did some reading after she ate, as they started to descend. She had pinned a caduceus to her lapel when she got up, which would identify her as a physician at the disaster site. And she was ready to roll when they landed, her hair in a neat braid, and wearing an old tan safari shirt under a heavy sweater. |
| 3137 |
She had T shirts, and a rough jacket too. Jack had checked the weather for her online before she packed. And she had a water canteen that she filled with Evian before she left the plane. There were work gloves clipped to her belt, and surgical masks and rubber gloves in her pockets. She was ready to work. |
| 3138 |
There seemed to be almost no structures left standing, and hundreds of people wandering by the side of the road. There were a few mules, and other livestock wandering loose, often interfering with traffic on the road. It was slow going on the last miles to Imlil. There were firemen and soldiers in evidence too. |
| 3139 |
Bodies were being buried quickly, according to the traditions of the region, but with many bodies still unrecovered, the spread of disease as a result was a real concern. It was more than a little daunting, even to Maxine, to see how much work there was to do, and how little time she had to advise Blake. |
| 3140 |
She had exactly two and a half days to do whatever she could. Maxine was suddenly sorry she couldn't stay for weeks instead of days, but there was no way she could. She had obligations, responsibilities, and her own children to return to in New York, and she didn't want to push Charles more than she already had. |
| 3141 |
He was working out of one of the Red Cross tents. And as they drove slowly toward the rescue tents, Maxine was aware of the hideous, acrid stench of death that she had experienced before in similar situations, and that one never forgot. She pulled one of the surgical masks out of her bag and put it on. |
| 3142 |
The weather was warm, mercifully, and she took her sweater off and tied it around her waist. The smell of death, urine, and feces was everywhere as she walked into the tent, looking for a familiar face. There was only one person she would know here, and she found him within minutes, talking to a little girl in French. |
| 3143 |
Every family had been decimated and sustained losses. And he said the next village up the mountain was worse. He had been there for the past five days. There were almost no survivors there, and most had been brought here. They were shipping the elderly and the severely wounded to hospitals in Marrakech. |
| 3144 |
She had promised to go back to the medical tent later that night, to outline some plans for helping them deal with trauma victims, but that meant almost everyone here, including the workers. They had seen some terrible tragedies firsthand. Maxine had chatted with the Red Cross volunteers for a few minutes. |
| 3145 |
She had given a mask to Blake too, and surgical latex gloves. She didn't want him getting sick, and it was easy to do in a place like this. Soldiers had been burying bodies all day, while family members wailed. It was an eerie, torturous sound, mercifully drowned out by the bulldozers some of the time. |
| 3146 |
She was up for most of the night with Blake, as he had been for days, and in the end they both slept in the Jeep that had brought her there, piled on top of each other like puppies. She didn't even think about what Charles's reaction would have been to that. It was entirely beside the point, and of no interest here. |
| 3147 |
She could spend her time reassuring him when she got home. She had more important things to do now. They spent most of Saturday with the children. She talked to as many of them as she could, and sometimes just held them, particularly the young ones. Many of them were getting sick, and she knew that some would die. |
| 3148 |
It was a new discovery for him, and it had taken him a lifetime to get there. "What about helping them right here, instead of trying to take them home? You could get caught up in red tape forever." He looked at her strangely then, as something occurred to him, which might make more sense in the long run. |
| 3149 |
They slept in the Jeep again that night, and she made rounds with him again all the next day. The children they saw were adorable and in such dire need that it made his idea of turning his house into an orphanage for some of them all the more poignant. And in the coming months, there would be much work to do. |
| 3150 |
He was so busy he had hardly had time to call her, but she was loving and adorable whenever he did. She told him how wonderful and what a hero he was and that she was in awe of him. And so was Maxine. She had been monumentally impressed by his efforts and plans for setting up an orphanage in his palace in Marrakech. |
| 3151 |
They both felt awkward talking about it here. A vacation on a superyacht seemed totally out of place in this context. She thanked him again for it. Charles would be joining them this time, albeit reluctantly, but she had insisted that it was one of their traditions, and the children would be upset if they didn't do it. |
| 3152 |
The flight crew were waiting for her, with a delicate meal prepared. She just couldn't touch it, after all she'd seen. She sat staring into the night for a long time. There was a bright moon at the tip of the wing, and a sky full of stars. And everything she had just seen and done for three days felt unreal. |
| 3153 |
The children were still asleep, and Zelda was still in her room. Maxine showered and dressed for the office. She had slept well on the plane, so she felt rested, although she had a lot to think about and digest after her trip. It was a beautiful June morning, so she walked to the office and got there just after eight. |
| 3154 |
She told them everything except about the orphanage. She had promised him that she would let him tell them about it, and she kept her word. She even managed to be dressed on time when Charles showed up just before eight o'clock. He said hello to the children, who muttered greetings and disappeared into their rooms. |
| 3155 |
He said he had already made some contacts to further his plans. He was embarking on it with the same determination, energy, and focus that had won him his success over the years. They were halfway through dinner when Maxine told Charles about the rehearsal dinner Blake was giving for them the night before the wedding. |
| 3156 |
She would have hated to have an ex husband she never spoke to, or where they were constantly fighting over the kids. Charles was glaring at her. She had never seen someone as jealous, and she couldn't help wondering if it was because of who Blake was and what he had achieved, or because she'd been married to him. |
| 3157 |
Charles was a little tight about things like that. But Maxine wanted everything beautiful for their wedding. As she rode up in the elevator, she thought about telling Blake not to do the rehearsal dinner, but she knew that he'd be so disappointed. And the kids would be upset too, if they got wind of it. |
| 3158 |
He had an easy way with everyone, and no one had ever been able to resist his charm and sense of humor. If Charles could, it would be a first. In spite of his anger at her the night before, the next morning Maxine had to ask Charles to come by that night, to go over the guest list and details about the wedding. |
| 3159 |
There was a little too much Blake Williams in his life these days, even at his wedding. It was a lot for Charles to digest. Charles sat down at the kitchen table with the children as they were finishing dessert. Zelda had made apple pie with vanilla ice cream, and he willingly had a piece, and said it was very good. |
| 3160 |
I considered international adoption, and I looked into it, but there are too many unknowns, and it's too expensive for me. I can't go sit in Russia or China, for three months, waiting for them to give me some random three year old from an orphanage, who might have all kinds of damage that I only figure out later. |
| 3161 |
The father is in jail for dealing drugs and grand theft auto. He's nineteen and he's not interested in the baby or the girl, so he's willing to sign off. He already did, and that's a big deal too. Her parents won't let her keep the baby, they have no money, and she's a sweet kid. I met her yesterday. |
| 3162 |
It sounded like a huge mistake to her, but who was she to decide other people's lives? She wouldn't have done it, but she had three healthy kids, and who knew what she would do in Zellie's position? It was a very loving thing to do, even if a little crazy, and very high risk. She was brave to do it. |
| 3163 |
She just figured it was one of his quirks. But he had loved the peaceful, childless weekend he had just spent with her. Maxine, on the other hand, had loved it but had missed her kids. She knew that having no children of his own, it was something he would never understand, and she let it go at that. |
| 3164 |
And as it turned out, much to her chagrin, Charles wasn't wrong. The birth mother had done far more drugs than she admitted, and the baby was born addicted to cocaine. He spent a week in the hospital being detoxed, while Zelda sat with him every day and rocked him. And when he came home, he screamed night and day. |
| 3165 |
Zelda looked like ten miles of bad road after another sleepless night. She was awake with the baby every night, for most of the night, holding him. "The doctor said it could take a while for the drugs to get out of his system. I think he's a little better," Zellie said, looking down at her son blissfully. |
| 3166 |
The social workers had come to check on him several times, and no one could have faulted Zellie for how devoted she was to him. He just wasn't a lot of fun for anyone else. Maxine was relieved they'd be leaving on vacation in a few weeks, and with luck by the time they got back, Jimmy would have settled down. |
| 3167 |
And little Jimmy was a lot harder to deal with. In the meantime, plans for the wedding were under way. Maxine hadn't found a dress yet, and she needed one for Daphne too. Daphne refused to have any part of it, and was threatening not to go to the wedding at all, which was yet another challenge Maxine had to face. |
| 3168 |
He planned to come back every month to make sure they were moving ahead as planned. So he was going back to London for the time being, and he told Maxine that everything was ready on the boat for them. She and the kids could hardly wait. It was their best vacation together every year. Charles was not as sure. |
| 3169 |
She thought it was a wonderful thing to do. He decided to surprise her when he flew back to London. He was coming home a week earlier than he'd said he would. He had done everything he could, and he had work to do now in London, setting up the financial arrangements for the orphanage, and a hundred orphans. |
| 3170 |
He arrived at Heathrow at midnight, was at his house forty minutes later, and let himself in. The house was dark, and Arabella had said she'd been working hard, so he assumed she was asleep. She'd said she had hardly been going out, and it was no fun without him. She was desperate for him to come home. |
| 3171 |
He tiptoed into his bedroom, in case she was asleep. He saw her shape under the sheet, sat down next to her, and leaned down to kiss her, only to discover that there were two bodies, not one, and they were intertwined and half asleep. His eyes flew wide open, and he turned on the light for a better look. |
| 3172 |
He couldn't believe what he was seeing, and at first he wanted to believe it was a mistake. It was no mistake. An extraordinarily handsome dark skinned man sat up in bed with her, with a look of panic. Blake suspected it was one of the important Indian men she knew, or perhaps a new one. It didn't matter who he was. |
| 3173 |
A big one. She stood looking at him with tears rolling down her cheeks, as he looked away. It was a nasty little scene. None of the women he had gone out with had ever been dumb enough to bring other men to his bed. And he had dated Arabella longer than anyone else. It had been seven months, and it hurt. |
| 3174 |
It took every ounce of restraint not to call her ugly names as she clattered down the stairs. He went to the bar, and poured himself a stiff drink. He never wanted to see her again. She tried calling him later that night, and for days thereafter, and he didn't answer her calls. Arabella was history. |
| 3175 |
She was shopping for their trip, when she came upon the dress accidentally. It was just what she wanted, by Oscar de la Renta, a huge champagne colored organdy skirt with a lavender satin sash and a tiny beaded beige bustier, and the way the dress fell, it had just the hint of a train, but not enough to look overdone. |
| 3176 |
And by sheer luck, the next day she found a beautiful lavender silk strapless dress for Daphne. They were all set. She was excited and happy about her wedding dress, and Daphne's. But she decided to wait to show her till they got back from the trip. Daphne was still threatening not to come to the wedding. |
| 3177 |
That night, she and Charles had dinner with her parents. Charles had bought every kind of seasick medicine he could lay his hands on, and was still gritting his teeth about taking a vacation on Blake's boat. He was doing it for Maxine, and admitted to her parents that night that he was not looking forward to it. |
| 3178 |
It was an easy flight. Three of Blake's crew members and the captain were waiting at the Nice airport for them, and took them to the boat in two cars. Charles had no idea what to expect, but was a little surprised by the crisp uniforms, and the professionalism of the crew. This was obviously no ordinary boat. |
| 3179 |
She was a two hundred forty six foot sailboat, the likes of which Charles had never seen. There was a crew of eighteen on board, and staterooms more beautiful than most houses, or any hotel. There was a fortune in art on the burnished wood walls. The children always had a ball when they were on board. |
| 3180 |
They scampered around her like she was their second home, which in some ways she was. They were delighted to see the crew, who were equally happy to see them. The crew were trained to meet every imaginable need, and spoil them in every possible way. No request was too menial or too small or ever ignored. |
| 3181 |
And there was a fullsize theater to entertain them at night, a fully equipped gym for them to exercise in, and a masseur to give them all massages. Charles sat on deck looking startled and uncomfortable, as the enormous sailboat left the dock. A stewardess offered him a drink, and another one offered him a massage. |
| 3182 |
Maxine and the kids were below unpacking and making themselves comfortable. Fortunately, none of them ever got seasick, and on a boat this size, Charles suspected he wouldn't either. He was watching the coast with binoculars when Maxine came upstairs to find him. She was wearing a pink T shirt and shorts. |
| 3183 |
And he's willing to risk anything to win. He's a good gambler, but that doesn't make him a good husband or father. And he gambled on me in the end, and lost. He figured he could never be there, do whatever he wanted, show up once in a blue moon, and not lose me. After a while, it just wasn't worth it to me. |
| 3184 |
She worried sometimes about his ability to tolerate her life. It was a lot wilder than what he was used to. Not as wild as Blake's by any means, but much more lively than anything he had ever known. But being with her excited him too, and in spite of his complaints, he was crazy about her. She could feel that now. |
| 3185 |
It still amazed Charles that Maxine took nothing from him, and was content with her far more human scale life. Not many women would have resisted the temptation to stick it to him when they left. And he suspected that was why she and Blake were such good friends, because he knew what a good person she was. |
| 3186 |
He went scuba diving with one of the crew members afterward, since he was certified. And he went snorkeling with Maxine after lunch. They swam to a small beach together, and they lay on the white sand. Jack and Daphne were watching them with binoculars, and Daphne set them down with a look of disgust when they kissed. |
| 3187 |
Daphne was still giving him a tough time, but it was hard to avoid him on the boat. And eventually even she relaxed, particularly after he taught her how to waterski. He was good at it, and taught her a few tricks that made it easier for her. It delighted Maxine to see Charles warming up to her children. |
| 3188 |
They talked about their wedding, and she got emails from the caterer and the wedding planner. Everything was under control. They swam in beautiful coves off Corsica, and lay on white sandy beaches. And then they went on to Sardinia, which was far more social, and there were other big boats there as well. |
| 3189 |
It was always fun for the children there. They rode in a horse drawn carriage, and did some shopping, and Charles bought her a beautiful turquoise bracelet that she loved. And he told her again on the way back to the boat what a good time he was having on the trip. They both looked happy and relaxed. |
| 3190 |
They were both excited about the wedding, and her parents were staying with them for the wedding weekend too. It would give Charles someone to talk to, while Maxine tended to the final details. The only time Charles wouldn't be staying with them was the night before the wedding, after the rehearsal dinner. |
| 3191 |
Maxine never wanted to go there because they couldn't take the kids with them, unlike her rambling old house in the Hamptons, which housed them all and still left room for guests. The captain pulled the boat into port in Monte Carlo early the next morning, and they were already moored there when everyone woke up. |
| 3192 |
The two women had lunch together right after Maxine got back from the boat trip, and Thelma asked her about Charles. She had met him twice, but didn't really have a sense of him, other than that he was very reserved. She had met Blake once too and commented that the two men were as different as night and day. |
| 3193 |
It was a blessed relief. And more than once when he was howling his little lungs out in the apartment, she had suggested that Zellie get the car out and drive around the block. Several times she had, and it worked. Maxine was only sorry she couldn't do that all night. He was a cute little guy with a sweet face. |
| 3194 |
Charles wasn't interested in the wedding details and trusted Maxine with them. At night, she and Charles went out to dinner, or they took the children to the movies. And in the daytime, the kids hung out with their friends on the beach. Everything was going fine until Blake arrived the second week that they were there. |
| 3195 |
He packed that night, and in the morning he left for Vermont. He said he'd be back in time for the wedding. It was a great start. He didn't even answer his cell phone for two days, which hurt Maxine's feelings, and he never apologized to her for storming off, when they finally talked. He sounded stiff and cold. |
| 3196 |
There were times when she wanted to strangle him, like now, before the wedding. All the pre wedding excitement and details were bringing out the worst in both of them. She wasn't as patient as usual, and she thought he was being a poor sport, stomping off to Vermont in a huff the moment Blake appeared. |
| 3197 |
She hoped he'd get over it soon. Blake picked her and the kids up for dinner that night, and as he had planned, he told them about his Moroccan orphanage as they ate. They looked a little stunned for a minute, and then realized what a wonderful thing he was organizing. They all told him how proud they were of him. |
| 3198 |
Maxine could tell he was feeling better about it. He had recovered quickly. He always did. His feelings for the women in his life never ran too deep, although Maxine knew they had run deeper for Arabella than for most. But it had been a pretty nasty ending, given the scene he had described in his bed. |
| 3199 |
Maxine was looking forward to meeting them, and checking them for the effects of the trauma they'd endured. Blake came and went back and forth to her house for the rest of the week. And Maxine realized it was easier not having Charles there. He hardly called her all week from Vermont, and she didn't call him. |
| 3200 |
She figured it was best to let him cool down, and he'd show up again sooner or later. The wedding was only days away. The day of the rehearsal dinner, Charles returned. He just walked in, as though he'd gone to the store for a loaf of bread. He kissed Maxine, walked into their room, and put down his things. |
| 3201 |
It was a pale gold filmy strapless evening gown that wrapped around her like a sarong. She looked like a young Grace Kelly. She was wearing it with high heeled gold sandals. Blake had decided to make the rehearsal dinner black tie. Charles looked very proper in a single breasted black dinner jacket. |
| 3202 |
And when they got to the party, Blake was wearing a double breasted white one, with black tuxedo trousers, his proper black bow tie, and patent leather pumps. Maxine noticed immediately that Blake wasn't wearing socks. She knew him well, and it didn't surprise her. A lot of the men in Southampton did it. |
| 3203 |
Her parents were there, her mother in a pale blue evening dress with a jacket, and her father in a white dinner jacket like Blake's. They were a handsome group. Maxine's father stopped to talk to Charles for a few minutes before dinner, and asked him how the boat trip had been. He hadn't seen him since. |
| 3204 |
Charles started the evening off by dancing with Maxine, and they looked happy and relaxed, and at ease in each other's arms. They made a very attractive couple. And it was a beautiful party. Blake had had the club decorated with thousands of white roses and delicate paper lanterns brushed with gold. |
| 3205 |
Blake wished them both well then, and said that he hoped Charles did a much better job of making her happy than he did. It was a moving moment, and brought tears to Max's eyes. And afterward, Charles stood up and toasted their very generous host, and promised to see to it that Maxine was blissful forever. |
| 3206 |
It was a perfect evening, and the last guests straggled home around one A.M. Charles was staying at the hotel that night, as she had insisted he should. In the end, her parents had decided to stay there too instead of with her. She had one last dance with Blake and thanked him for the fireworks show. |
| 3207 |
Blake promised to have them home in half an hour. And when the dance ended, she went back to Charles and they left. The wedding was at noon the next day. But everyone agreed that the rehearsal dinner would be hard to top. She and Charles talked about it on the way to his hotel, which he had complained about. |
| 3208 |
When she got home, she walked into the living room and poured herself another glass of champagne. A few minutes later, she heard Blake's car drive in with Zellie and the children. Zellie had left Jimmy at the house with a sitter, who left as soon as they returned, and Zelda urged all the children upstairs to bed. |
| 3209 |
They were exhausted and disappeared with mumbled goodnights to their parents, who were sitting on the couch, talking. Blake was in good spirits, and Maxine seemed a little tipsy to him, more so than she had at the party. She had been sober then, but was less so now, after two more glasses of champagne. |
| 3210 |
Blake had had a lot to drink that night but was still sober. And he looked like a movie star in his white dinner jacket. They both did, as they toasted each other with the champagne. "That was a gorgeous party," she said, twirling around the living room in her gold dress, and she twirled herself right into his arms. |
| 3211 |
The final glass had made the difference, and he was feeling very drunk too. The vodka did him in after a long night of drinking, or maybe it was seeing her that way, in her gold dress. She was intoxicating. She always had been for him. He suddenly remembered, and wondered how he could have forgotten. |
| 3212 |
He was fine. He had only had one glass of champagne, and soda the rest of the night, which saved him from a fate like his sister's. Zelda poured two cups of coffee into Maxine, and scrambled eggs, under protest. She handed her two aspirin with the coffee, and the hairdresser went to work on her in the kitchen. |
| 3213 |
The cars were waiting for them outside, and a minute later Zelda came back in a red silk dress, black patent leather shoes, and she was carrying her baby. He was starting to stir, but he wasn't crying yet. Maxine knew that if he did, it would split her head in two, and she silently begged him not to. |
| 3214 |
They were meeting her parents and Blake at the church. Charles would be waiting for her at the altar. Suddenly, mostly due to her extreme hangover, she assumed, the thought of a church service and a wedding made her feel slightly sick. There was a car for Zellie and the children, and another one for her. |
| 3215 |
That wasn't supposed to happen. But at least nothing else had. The limousine she was in pulled up behind the church at five to twelve. And the one with the children was right behind her. They had made it. Maxine walked as steadily as she could into the rectory, and her parents were waiting for her there. |
| 3216 |
They all recognized Blake, and were a little puzzled when he and Daphne took their places at the altar, and were joined by Sam and Jack a minute later. This was obviously a very liberal modern wedding with the ex husband helping to give the bride away. The guests were impressed and a little startled. |
| 3217 |
It was the marriage of two people who had always loved each other, and each, in their own way, had grown up at last. It was the perfect union between a delightful, lovable rogue and his very happy bride. Her father winked at them as they walked past him, down the aisle. Blake winked back, and Maxine laughed out loud. |
| 3218 |
There was almost no one on the beach that day, it was too cold. But she didn't mind, and the dog barked from time to time at the little swirls of sand raised by the wind, and then bounded back to the water's edge. He leaped backward, barking furiously, when he saw a crab, and the little girl laughed. |
| 3219 |
Safe Harbour was thirty five minutes north of San Francisco, and more than half of it was a gated community, with houses sitting just behind the dune, all along the beach. A security booth with a guard kept out the unwelcome. There was no access to the beach itself save from the houses that bordered it. |
| 3220 |
But most of the time, even the public beach was sparsely visited, and at the private end, it was rare to see anyone on the beach at all. The child had just reached the stretch of beach where the simpler houses were, when she saw a man sitting on a folding stool, painting a watercolor propped against an easel. |
| 3221 |
She just liked watching him, there was something solid and familiar about him as the wind brushed through his short dark hair. She liked observing people, and did the same thing with fishermen sometimes, staying well away from them, but taking in all they did. She sat there for a long time, as the artist worked. |
| 3222 |
She liked the colors he was working with, and there was a sunset in the painting that she liked as well. The dog was tired by then, and stood by, seeming to wait for a command. And it was yet another little while before she approached again, and stood near enough for the artist to notice her at last. |
| 3223 |
Neither of them seemed to want to leave, but they knew they had to. She had to get home before her mother did, or she'd get in trouble. She had escaped the baby sitter who'd been talking for hours on the phone with her boyfriend. The child knew that the teenage baby sitter never cared if she went wandering off. |
| 3224 |
And with that, he walked into his living room, and sank heavily into an old battered leather chair, and looked out at the fog rolling in over the ocean. As he stared at it, all he could see in his mind's eye was the little girl with bright red curly hair and freckles, and the haunting cognac colored eyes. |
| 3225 |
The town consisted of two restaurants, a bookstore, a surf shop, a grocery store, and an art gallery. It had been an arduous afternoon in the city for her. She hated going to the group twice a week, but she had to admit that it helped her. She had been going to it since May, and had another two months ahead of her. |
| 3226 |
She did it by reflex now, on automatic pilot. It had been a good decision, and the right place to spend the summer. She needed the peace and quiet it offered. The solitude. The silence. The long, seemingly endless stretch of beach and white sand, which was sometimes almost wintry, and at other times hot and sunny. |
| 3227 |
Some days she didn't leave the house at all. She stayed in bed, or tucked herself into a corner of the living room, pretending to read a book, and in fact just thinking, drifting back to another time and place when things were different. Before October. It had been nine months, and seemed like a lifetime. |
| 3228 |
And as she drove into the driveway and turned off the car, she sat quietly for a moment. She was too tired to move, see Pip, or cook dinner, but she knew she had to. That was all part of it, the endless lethargy that seemed to make it impossible to do anything more than comb her hair or make a few phone calls. |
| 3229 |
There was little to do anyway, it was a bright, cheerful, well kept house, with clean looking modern furniture, bare light wood floors, and a picture window that went the length of the house and afforded a splendid view of the ocean. There was a long narrow deck outside, with outdoor furniture on it. |
| 3230 |
It was too much effort, more than she could cope with. Everything was too much now, sometimes even breathing, and especially talking. She just retreated to her bedroom night after night, and lay on the bed in the dark. Pip went to her own room and closed the door, and if she wanted company, she took the dog with her. |
| 3231 |
But Pip was used to it now. It was as though any form of human touch or contact was too painful for her mother. She had retreated behind her walls, and the mother Pip had known for the past eleven years had vanished. The woman who had taken her place, though outwardly the same, was in fact frail and broken. |
| 3232 |
She was anxious to see him again on Thursday. She liked him. And the drawing looked a lot better with the changes he'd made to the back legs. Mousse looked like a real dog in the drawing, and not half dog half rabbit, like the earlier portraits she'd done of him. Matthew was clearly a skilled artist. |
| 3233 |
Even when she slept, she never woke feeling rested. It took only an instant after she woke up, for the wrecking ball of reality to hit her chest again. There was always that one blissful moment when memory failed her, but there was just as surely the hideous moment following it, when she remembered. |
| 3234 |
The difficulties of their son had irreversibly altered the father. And as he withdrew from the boy, he also withdrew from his mother, as though somehow it was her fault. Their only son had been difficult as a small boy, and after endless agonies and a tortuous road, was diagnosed at fourteen as bipolar. |
| 3235 |
The baby was a pleasant distraction, particularly for Pip, who adored him. And in spite of her age and inexperience, Andrea was a fairly easygoing mother. She never minded Pip wandering around with him everywhere, holding him, kissing him, or tickling his toes while his mother nursed him. And the baby loved her. |
| 3236 |
She had been the glue that had kept the family together, despite countless traumas and near tragedies. It was only since October that she had finally been brought to her knees. And Andrea was convinced she'd get back on her feet eventually. She wanted to do all she could to help her in the meantime. |
| 3237 |
And Andrea knew that too. Only Pip had managed to somehow stay away from it, and remain untouched by the strife that nearly destroyed their family eventually. Even as a small child, Pip had become the little fairy who flew above it all, touching each of them gently, and trying to make peace between them. |
| 3238 |
She showered, but then put on jeans and an old sweater, and just ran a hand through her hair instead of combing it, except when she went somewhere, like to group. But she rarely went anywhere anymore. She had no reason to. Except when she drove Pip to school. And she didn't comb her hair for that either. |
| 3239 |
Andrea thought it had been long enough, it was time to pull herself together. It had been her idea that they come to Safe Harbour, and she had even found the house for them through a realtor she knew. She was glad she had, she could see just from looking at Pip, and even her mother, that it had been a good decision. |
| 3240 |
Maybe it would get better again one day, but obviously not yet. And Pip accepted that. She was wise way beyond her years. And the past nine months had forced her into adult shoes. Andrea stayed until late in the afternoon, and left just before dinnertime. She wanted to get home before the fog rolled in. |
| 3241 |
They sat on the deck, soaking up the sun, and all in all, it had been a lovely, friendly afternoon. But the minute Andrea and the baby left, the house seemed instantly sad and empty again. She was such a powerful presence that the absence of her actually made things seem worse than they had been before she came. |
| 3242 |
The hamburgers were more cooked than Pip liked them, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to discourage her, and it was better than the frozen pizza neither of them ate. Pip ate her whole hamburger, while her mother picked at hers, but she ate all the salad and at least half of the hamburger for once. |
| 3243 |
Things had definitely improved with Andrea's good influence on them. As Pip went to bed that night, she wished her mother would tuck her in. It was too much to ask in her current state, but nice to think about anyway. She remembered that her father used to do that when she was small, although he hadn't in a long time. |
| 3244 |
Her mother had gone to bed straight after dinner that night, while she was still watching TV. Mousse licked her face as she lay in bed, and then with a yawn himself, lay down on the floor next to her, as she reached a hand out of bed and stroked his ear. Pip smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep. |
| 3245 |
She had run for a long time when she saw him finally. He was in the same place, sitting on the folding stool, working at his easel. He heard Mousse barking in the distance, and turned to look at her. He had missed her the day before, surprisingly, and was relieved to see her small brown face smiling up at him. |
| 3246 |
He wondered again what had happened to Pip's father, if anything, but he didn't get the feeling she was living with him, and he was afraid to ask. He didn't want to upset her unnecessarily, or pry. Their budding friendship seemed to rely on a certain amount of discretion and delicacy, which was both her nature and his. |
| 3247 |
He figured she would tell him as much as she wanted to, when she was ready. And he was in no rush to press her. Theirs was a friendship that seemed to float in space, independent of time. And he felt as though he had known her for a long time. And then finally, it occurred to him to ask the obvious. |
| 3248 |
He could sense painful memories wafting around her, and he had to resist an urge to reach out and touch her hair or her hand. He didn't want to frighten her, or appear inappropriate by being overly familiar. "How are you now?" It seemed a safer question than other possibilities, and this time she looked up at him. |
| 3249 |
It never occurred to her to ask him how often he saw them, she just assumed he did. But she was sorry for him anyway, for having them so far away. "I miss them too." He got off his stool then, and came to sit next to her on the sand. Her small bare feet were dug into the sand, and she looked up at him with a sad smile. |
| 3250 |
It was odd the things you missed about people once they were gone. "Are we going to draw today?" he asked, deciding that they had shared enough painful confidences and both needed a break, and she looked relieved when he said it. She had wanted to tell him, but talking about it too much made her sad again. |
| 3251 |
And within instants, she was far down the beach. She danced around backward once and waved at him again, and he stood for a long time watching her, until she was a tiny figure far down the beach, and finally all he could see clearly was the dog running back and forth. She was breathless when she got to the house. |
| 3252 |
She didn't ask to see the drawing, it never even occurred to her, as Pip went to her room, and laid it on the table next to the one of the dog. They were souvenirs of afternoons that were precious to her, and reminded her of Matt. She didn't have a crush on him, but there was no denying they had formed a special bond. |
| 3253 |
She blamed herself for selfish motives too. Their son required so much attention, and had been in such a precarious state for months, she had wanted a break from him, and to spend a quiet afternoon with Pip. With all the attention focused on Chad constantly, she never seemed to spend enough time with her. |
| 3254 |
She would have given all of it to spend the rest of her life with Ted, and to have Chad alive too. There had been some tough times between her and Ted, but even then, her love for him hadn't faltered. But there was no question, it had been rocky between them at one point, and more than once because of Chad. |
| 3255 |
And Ted, for all his brilliance and awkwardness and chemistry and charm, had vanished from her life. She spent hours at night rolling the film of their life backward in her head, trying to sort it out, trying to remember what it had really been like, savoring the good times, and trying to fast forward past the bad. |
| 3256 |
What was left in the end was the memory of a man she had deeply loved, whatever his faults. Her love for him had been unconditional, not that it mattered now. They solved the dinner dilemma with sandwiches, although Pip had barely eaten that day, and the silence in the house was deafening. They never put music on. |
| 3257 |
And there was no point telling him about it now. Chad was gone. His illness had left a deep mark on her, on all of them. Living with him had been traumatic and difficult, and just as Chad had known how much his father resented him and the mental illness he refused to name, Pip had been aware of it herself. |
| 3258 |
Her mother slept on the deck all afternoon, and after watching her quietly for an hour, Pip went down on the beach with Mousse. She wasn't intending to walk down to the public beach, she just headed that way, and before she knew it, she was far down the beach, and then she started running, hoping to see him. |
| 3259 |
In circumstances other than these, he would have said something harsher to her. She was being more than a little insulting, but he didn't want to upset Pip by being rude to her mother. And she deserved a little leeway given all she'd been through, but she had used almost all of it with her last words to him. |
| 3260 |
He put his paints and drawing away then, and folded up his stool and easel, and with his head down and a grim expression, he walked back to his cottage to drop them off. Five minutes later, he was on his way to the lagoon to take his boat out for a sail. He knew he needed to get out on the water to clear his head. |
| 3261 |
She said not a single word to her mother, as she prepared her breakfast, and then left. And at his house, Matt had lain awake all night, thinking of her, and worried about her. He didn't even know where they lived, so he could make a formal apology to her mother, in the hopes of softening her position. |
| 3262 |
And from his living room, Matt stood and gazed out the window for a long time. He saw birds, and a fishing boat, and some new driftwood on the beach. He never saw Pip and her mother sitting there, or walking hand in hand. They were gone by the time he looked, and the beach was empty and deserted, like his life. |
| 3263 |
She wondered what had happened to him, since he said he went there every day, and hoped his absence wasn't her mother's fault. But as soon as she saw him and looked into his eyes, before he said a single word, she knew it was. Even two days later, he looked distant and hurt. She got straight to the point. |
| 3264 |
She had come to mean a lot to him, in a remarkably brief time. She had landed like a bright little bird, right on his heart. But there were also deep emotional holes in each of them that the other filled. She had lost a father and brother, he both his children. And Matt and Pip each filled a need for the other. |
| 3265 |
She reminded him so much of his daughter Vanessa. And aside from that, he admired her, she was a spunky little kid. Even more than he had first thought, if she had managed to convince her mother to let her come back down the beach to visit him, and even dragged her along to apologize the day before. |
| 3266 |
It was four thirty when she finally got up. Mousse had been lying quietly next to her for once, and he got up too. "Are you two heading back?" Matt asked with a warm smile, and as she looked at him, she realized that he looked more like her father than ever when he smiled, although her father hadn't smiled very often. |
| 3267 |
He couldn't help wondering, as he thought about her, what her mother was really like. And the father she said was a genius. He sounded difficult, from things she'd said, and a little dark. And the boy sounded unusual too. Not the typical family. And she was certainly no ordinary child. Nor were his. |
| 3268 |
They had been great kids. The last time he'd seen them anyway. It had been a long time. But he didn't let himself dwell on that. It occurred to him as he walked over the dune to his cottage that he would have liked to take her sailing with him, and even teach her how to sail, as he had his own kids. |
| 3269 |
But out of respect for Pip's mother, Matt knew he wouldn't take her out on the boat. She didn't know him well enough to trust him on the water, and there was always the faint possibility that something could go wrong. He didn't want to risk that. When Pip got home, she found her mother just walking through the door. |
| 3270 |
They both had hamburgers, and chatted amiably. It was the first night out they'd had. And when they got back to the house, they were both happy, full, and tired. Pip went to bed early that night, and went back to see Matt the next day. Her mother offered no objection when she left, and looked relaxed when Pip got back. |
| 3271 |
But as soon as he got to her, he saw that it wasn't a nail she'd stepped on, but a jagged piece of glass, and she had an ugly gash on the sole of her foot. "How did that happen?" he asked as he sat down next to her, there was a considerable amount of blood in the sand, and her foot was still bleeding profusely. |
| 3272 |
But she looked frightened too. "You can still draw with one foot," he said, as he scooped her up. She was light as a feather and even smaller than she looked. He didn't want her to get sand in it, and was afraid she already had. And he instantly remembered her mother's admonitions not to go to his house. |
| 3273 |
Her eyes looked enormous in the pale face. "Chad cut his head open once, and he bled all over the place and had to have a lot of stitches." She didn't tell him it was because he had had a tantrum, and had banged his head into the wall. He had been about ten at the time, and she was six, but she remembered it perfectly. |
| 3274 |
And their mother cried. It had been an ugly scene. "Let's take a look." It didn't look any better to him than it had on the beach. He lifted her up and sat her on the edge of the sink, and ran some cold water on it, which made it feel better, but the water looked bright red as it ran down the drain. |
| 3275 |
She gave Pip a shot to numb it, and then neatly stitched it up. She had seven stitches, and a huge bandage to cover it, and she had to stay off the foot for several days, and come back to get the stitches out in a week. Matt carried her back to the car afterward, and she looked worn out from the ordeal. |
| 3276 |
She seemed down to earth and unpretentious. Although he couldn't help noticing that peeking through the mane of long wavy blond hair were tiny diamond studs on her ears, and she was wearing a beautiful black cashmere sweater. But the luxuries seemed inconsequential and were outshone by her gentleness and beauty. |
| 3277 |
She had talked about it in her group frequently, and couldn't imagine feeling otherwise. The thought of being single again made her shudder. She had been in love with Ted for twenty years, and even death hadn't changed that. In spite of everything that had happened, her love for him had never wavered. |
| 3278 |
Ted and Chad had been gone for ten months now. It was hard to believe. Nearly a year since her life had been utterly and totally shattered. She hadn't picked up the pieces yet, but ever so slowly she was finding them here and there, and one day, maybe, she would get her life back together. But she wasn't there yet. |
| 3279 |
He was hard at work and deeply engrossed in what he was doing. She hesitated, as Pip had at first, staying at a distance. And after a time, Matt sensed her, turned, and then saw her. She was standing hesitantly, and looked strikingly like her daughter. And when he smiled at her, she finally approached him. |
| 3280 |
All he had wanted originally was a year off before he started something else, but then she'd left for New Zealand, and he had tried commuting to see the kids. By the time he stopped doing that four years later, he had lost interest in starting another business. And all he wanted to do now was paint. |
| 3281 |
She didn't see it that way, she saw herself as his support system and cheering team to encourage him through the hard times, and she had been. It was the main reason their marriage had lasted. Ted needed her as his link to the real world. She was the one thing that had kept him going when things were hardest. |
| 3282 |
Having a mentally ill son was unacceptable to him. And her greatest grief, her biggest sin, as far as she was concerned, was that she had sent him to L.A. with his father. She had wanted a break, and to spend some quiet time with Pip, without worrying about Chad for a change, or being distracted by him. |
| 3283 |
For the moment at least, the problem seemed insoluble, but it made for an interesting conversation between the two of them, and it was obviously far more adult than the things he discussed with Pip, while he taught her to draw. He liked both of them, and felt lucky that their paths had crossed and he had met them both. |
| 3284 |
Sometimes it enriched the spirit, and sometimes it broke it. The secret of life seemed to be surviving the damage, and wearing the scars well. But in reality, no heart went unscathed. Life itself was all too real. And in order to love someone, whether lover or friend, one had no choice but to be real. |
| 3285 |
She had put a chicken in the oven, and in a very short time, cooked some asparagus and wild rice, and made hollandaise. It was the most elaborate culinary effort she'd made in a year. And she'd enjoyed doing it. Matt was impressed when they sat down to dinner, and so was Pip. She laughed at her mom. |
| 3286 |
It was all in a drawer somewhere at home. For the last ten months, she hadn't cared if she never wore it again. It seemed irrelevant now. Or had, until tonight. Not that she was wooing him, but she at least felt like looking like a woman again. The robot she had become in the past year was slowly coming back to life. |
| 3287 |
The three of them enjoyed a lively conversation through dinner. They talked about Paris, and art, and school. Pip said she wasn't looking forward to going back. She was turning twelve in the fall and entering seventh grade. And when asked, she told Matt she had a lot of friends, but she felt weird with them now. |
| 3288 |
A lot of her friends' parents were divorced, but no one had lost a father. She didn't want people to feel sorry for her, and she knew some of them did. She said she didn't want them to be "too nice," because it made her sad. She didn't want to feel different. And he knew it was inevitable that she would. |
| 3289 |
He lived in jeans and old sweaters, and the occasional worn tweed jacket left over from the old days. He didn't need suits anymore. He didn't go anywhere, and hadn't had or wanted a social life in years. Once in a while, an old friend came over from the city to have dinner with him, but less and less. |
| 3290 |
They just figured that was who he was, and had become. Pip stayed and chatted with them until long after her bedtime, and finally she began to yawn. She said she could hardly wait to get her stitches out at the end of the week, but was annoyed that she would have to wear shoes on the beach for another week afterward. |
| 3291 |
The house had only a large living room, an open kitchen and dining room, and their two bedrooms. It all seemed to blend together, no one wanted privacy or grandeur at the beach. But the decor was very nice. The owners had some lovely things, and some very handsome modern paintings, which Matt said he liked. |
| 3292 |
And like her, he was an only child, and had become solitary over the years. He didn't even have close friends anymore. During the bad years after the divorce, the friendships had been too hard to maintain, and like Pip, he didn't want people feeling sorry for him. What had happened with Sally had just been too tough. |
| 3293 |
She felt a little better now, after the summer at the beach, and she was hoping she would improve further in the coming months. She had felt utterly disconnected for the past ten months, but the connections were slowly forming again. The robot she had become was nearly humanoid again, but not quite. |
| 3294 |
I stayed at a hotel, I even got an apartment at one point, but I was very much the fifth wheel. She married a great guy, a friend of mine, who loved my kids, about nine years ago, and they were crazy about him. He's very much a man's man, lots of money, lots of toys. Four kids of his own, they had two more. |
| 3295 |
She thought I should only come out when they wanted to see me, which of course was almost never. I called a lot, and they were busy. And eventually, I wrote and they didn't answer. They were only seven and nine when she remarried, and she had the other babies in the first two years they were married. |
| 3296 |
It doesn't seem fair to put pressure on them. I miss them like crazy. I don't think I exist for them anymore. I've talked to their mother and she says it's for the best. She tells me they're happy and don't want me in their life. I never did anything wrong, from my perspective, they just don't need me anymore. |
| 3297 |
She sends me photographs with the Christmas card so I know what they look like. I'm not sure if that's better or worse. Sometimes better, sometimes worse. I feel like one of those poor women who've given birth to a baby, and for whatever reason, given it up. And all they get are pictures once a year. |
| 3298 |
She couldn't even begin to imagine her life without her. "Why did the marriage break up?" She knew it was impertinent, but it was a piece she didn't have yet of the total picture, and she knew that if he didn't want to tell her, he wouldn't. After all that they had told each other, they were friends now. |
| 3299 |
She needed space, and time. Those things happen, I guess. To some people. She told me she'd never really been in love with me, we were just a great business team, and she had had the kids because it was expected of her. Hell of a thing to say about our children, and about me, but I actually think she meant it. |
| 3300 |
She offered to sell me her half of the business, but I had no desire to run it without her, or find a new partner. I just didn't have the heart to do it. She knocked me flat on my ass, and I couldn't get up for a long time. We sold the whole shebang, lock, stock, and barrel, to a major conglomerate. |
| 3301 |
I just couldn't see myself doing that again, or trusting anyone enough to put myself in that position. I didn't want to get married and have kids, and risk getting divorced again and losing them. I couldn't see the point. She was thirty two years old, and I was forty four at the time, and she gave me an ultimatum. |
| 3302 |
They just had their third baby this summer. I just couldn't go there. I hope I'll get back in touch with my own kids again someday, when they get a little older. But I have no desire to start another family, or open myself up to that kind of disappointment. Going through that once in a lifetime has done it for me. |
| 3303 |
And in some ways he hadn't. As gentle and caring as he was, he was emotionally shut down, and not willing to open up again, but she couldn't really blame him. It also explained why he had opened up to Pip so much and reached out to her. She was almost the same age as his children the last time he saw them. |
| 3304 |
With incredible vision. He always knew what he wanted to do, from the beginning. He was single minded in his purpose, and he refused to let anything stop him. Absolutely nothing. Not even me, or the children, not that we wanted to stand in his way. We did everything we could to support him, or I did at least. |
| 3305 |
And it was difficult certainly at times. There were years, many of them, when we had absolutely no money. We struggled for about fifteen years, and then he made so much we didn't know what to do with it. But that was never what was important to us, or me anyway. I loved him just as much when we were poor. |
| 3306 |
It seemed to be hard to remember the flaws and failings of someone you loved who had died. In divorces, all you remembered was what had been wrong with them. And over time the remembered flaws just seemed to get bigger and worse. When they died, all you remembered was the best part, and then you improved on it. |
| 3307 |
And Matt felt genuinely sorry for her. They talked for a long time that night, about their childhoods, their marriages, their kids. Her heart ached every time she thought of Matt's estrangement from his children, and as he spoke of it, from the look in his eyes, she could see easily what it had cost him. |
| 3308 |
As far as he was concerned, he had lost the war, and for now at least, it was over. All he could hope was to see his children again someday. A distant hope he thought of at times, but no longer lived for. He lived day to day, and was content with his spartan existence at the beach. Safe Harbour was a refuge for him. |
| 3309 |
It was after midnight when he left, and it had been a good evening for both of them. It had been the human contact and warmth that they both so desperately needed, although neither of them was aware of it. If nothing else, they each needed a friend, and they had found that. It was the one thing they both still trusted. |
| 3310 |
There were twelve people in the group, ranging in age from twenty six to eighty three. Their common bond was having lost someone dear to them. The youngest member of the group had lost her brother in a car accident. The oldest had lost his wife of sixty one years. There were husbands and wives and sisters and children. |
| 3311 |
She was sleeping too much by then, and eating far too little. Even she knew that she was seriously depressed, and it was unlikely to get better unless she did something about it. It had been hard at first to get over her own sense that she had failed somehow because she couldn't solve her own problems. |
| 3312 |
But each of them knew how hard the baby steps were, and what a difference it made when you finally achieved one. They celebrated each other's victories, and sympathized with each other's anguish. And you could tell early on who the successes would be, those who were willing to go through the agony of moving forward. |
| 3313 |
Even there, he reminded people that there was no "right model" for new relationships or even marriage. Some people waited years to find a new mate, others never did, nor wanted to. Some felt they needed to wait a year before dating or remarrying, others married literally weeks after they lost a spouse. |
| 3314 |
And when it happened, he wished it had been. Five years later he had remarried, to a wonderful woman, and they had three children. "I would have married earlier, if I'd met her sooner, but she was worth waiting for," he always told them, with a smile that never failed to touch the people with whom he shared the story. |
| 3315 |
It was the second time she had mentioned it, and he stopped to talk to her after the group. He had an idea that he wanted to suggest to her. He didn't know why, but he had the feeling it might be right up her alley. She had been doing well in the group so far, although he had the impression that she didn't think so. |
| 3316 |
She was consumed with guilt over what she was still not able to do for her daughter, and might not be able to do for a long time. More than anything, he didn't want her beating herself up over it. What she was experiencing, in the disconnect from all other loved ones, was entirely normal, according to him. |
| 3317 |
If she were attuned to them, or to her daughter in this case, her feelings would be wide open, and all the pain she felt over her loss would come rushing in to drown her. The only way her psyche could keep the agony at bay was to put itself on hold for a while, so she felt nothing at all, for anyone. |
| 3318 |
Matt had suggested something like that too, and she thought it might be meaningful to her, and less emotionally charged for her than volunteering in the field of mental illness. She had always had a keen interest in the welfare of the homeless, and no time to pursue it, while Ted and Chad were alive. |
| 3319 |
She waved as Pip set off down the beach in her sneakers, to protect the newly healed foot. And she didn't run, as she usually did. She was being a little more circumspect, and respectful of the foot, and as a result, it took her longer to reach him. And when she did, he stopped painting and beamed at her. |
| 3320 |
And Pip loved it. They had dinner in one of the two local restaurants, the Lobster Pot, and all three of them ate clam chowder and lobster. They decided en masse to make a real feast of it, and forget the hamburgers, and all of them complained on the way out that they could hardly move. But it had been a fun evening. |
| 3321 |
And she didn't want to make her mother mad, but her father hadn't always been nice to her. He used to yell at her, and was mean to her sometimes, especially when they argued over Chad, or other things. She loved her father, and always would, but she thought Matt was a lot friendlier and easier to be with. |
| 3322 |
She didn't want another man in her life. She was used to Ted. Familiarity was part of it. She couldn't even imagine herself with another man. She had been with him since she was twenty two, and married since she was twenty four. At forty two, she couldn't even begin to imagine starting all over again. |
| 3323 |
He was excited about doing the portrait, and had promised her it would be ready in time for her mother's birthday, and probably long before. "I'm going to miss you when we leave," Pip said sadly after he'd taken the photographs of her. She loved coming down to sit with him, and talk and draw for hours. |
| 3324 |
Or her mother. He had always had an edge to him, and got angry easily, especially at her mom or Chad, not as much with her. Because Pip had always been careful with him. He scared her a little. Although he'd been nicer to her when she was very young, she had pleasant memories of that, and less so in recent years. |
| 3325 |
But pieces of the puzzle didn't seem to fit. Particularly in his relationship with his son. And Matt didn't have the feeling he'd spent much time with Pip, she had almost said as much, in incidents she talked about, and stories she told. And it didn't sound as though he'd spent much time with his wife either. |
| 3326 |
It was too hot to sit on the deck, or the beach, and at least on the ocean, there would be a breeze. The wind had started to come up in the last hour, which was what had given him the idea. He'd been in the house all day, drawing Pip, from memory, photographs, and sketches he'd made of her on the beach. |
| 3327 |
It was exactly how she felt about her. Everything seemed more ominous now, which was why she'd been so upset earlier in the summer, when Pip disappeared down the beach. All they had now was each other. And danger was no longer an abstract concept to them. It was real. And tragedy a possibility they both knew existed. |
| 3328 |
They couldn't live in fear forever either. Maybe it was a good idea to show her that they could lead normal lives, and nothing terrible would happen. She felt no danger whatsoever about going out on the boat with Matt. And she was certain he was a supremely competent sailor. They had talked a lot about sailing. |
| 3329 |
And she found him a moment later, putting some things away on his boat. She was a lovely little sailboat in immaculate condition. It was easy to see how much he loved her by how beautifully he kept her. Everything on deck had been varnished, the brass shone, and the hull had been freshly painted white that spring. |
| 3330 |
He wasn't sure which was the prettier sight, the sailboat that he loved, or the woman at his side. They sailed for a long time in silence until the beach had all but disappeared. She had promised Pip they wouldn't stay out for long, but it was too tempting to just sail away and leave the world behind. |
| 3331 |
She grabbed the binoculars, and this time saw not only the board, but a man clinging to it. She waved frantically at Matt, and he quickly grabbed the binoculars from her, nodded, and together they maneuvered the sails down, and he started the engine and headed toward what they'd seen as fast as he could. |
| 3332 |
Matt had a small radio onboard, but other than the freighter, which was miles away, there were no boats in sight, and even the Coast Guard would take too long to arrive. If he was to live, they had to save him themselves. And there was no telling how far gone he was, or how long he'd been in the water. |
| 3333 |
She could see then how powerful Matt was, it was an inhuman effort he was making, and when he approached the boat with the boy, he shouted to her, and she understood. He threw the end of the rope back up to her, and miraculously she caught it, and attached it to the winch. She knew what she had to do. |
| 3334 |
He was barely conscious and shaking violently, as she looked back at Matt, got the rope from around the boy, and threw it to Matt. Despite the movement of the water, he caught it effortlessly, and the winch hauled him up. It seemed a miracle that they had both managed to get out of the water and into the boat. |
| 3335 |
The wind had turned and come up powerfully, and he thought he could get to shore faster under sail. He put the sails back up, while she got a blanket from the cabin and covered the boy, as he looked at her with dying eyes. She knew that look, and had seen it twice on Chad when he'd attempted suicide. |
| 3336 |
He believed he would get back to shore before they could reach him, and asked them to have paramedics waiting for him on shore, or to try and catch up with him by boat if they could. They were halfway back when the wind began to die down, and he took down the sails again and started the engine back up. |
| 3337 |
He still needed to hose down the deck to get the salt off her, but he would have to come back later. By the time it was all over, they'd been out for five hours. She barely had the strength to walk when they left the dock, and Matt drove her back to her house. But neither of them was prepared for what they found there. |
| 3338 |
She hated saying good bye to her friend. She and her mother had packed their bags that afternoon, and they were going home the next morning. Pip had a few things to do at home before starting school. "It's going to be awfully quiet around here without you two," Matt said pleasantly as they finished dessert. |
| 3339 |
He had to work. She had brought her brother once. And a friend of Andrea's another time. Ted hated events at their schools, and he and her mother had argued about it. They had argued about a lot of things, although her mother didn't like to be reminded of it now. But it was true anyway, whether she admitted it or not. |
| 3340 |
But the pain of their absence was a little more bearable than it had been three months earlier. Time did make a difference, albeit a small one. "You're looking very serious," he said, as he sat down next to her and took a sip of the wine she had poured him. It was the last of the bottle he had brought her. |
| 3341 |
So many people they had loved and cared about had left their lives, through death and divorce, and circumstances that neither of them had wanted. The tides of life that swept away people and places and cherished moments all too quickly, just as the ocean had swept away the boy they'd saved only days before. |
| 3342 |
Pip had overheard a lot of conversations between her parents about Andrea over the years, and had figured some of it out herself. Andrea had a way of emasculating men, and she was too independent, which was why she'd had to go to a sperm bank for a baby. No man so far had wanted to get that closely entangled with her. |
| 3343 |
She hadn't been to the house in three months. She had purposely avoided it whenever she came into the city, and had had their mail forwarded all summer to Safe Harbour. It was the first time she'd been back since they left it. And the reality of their situation hit her like an express train as they entered. |
| 3344 |
The chemistry between them had been powerful for their entire marriage. But the house was empty. There was no escaping the truth. She and Pip were alone forever. They both stood in the front door, as the same realization hit them at the same time, and their eyes filled with tears as they held each other. |
| 3345 |
And within minutes, she was sleeping as soundly as her daughter. They both woke with a start when they heard the alarm ring. They had forgotten where they were, and why they were sleeping together, and then they both remembered. But they didn't have time to get depressed again, they had to hurry to get ready. |
| 3346 |
She had been so happy when they moved into it, and now it made her so unhappy. But she had to admit, last night had turned out better than she'd expected. And she was grateful for Matt's input, and creative ideas. She walked slowly up the stairs with Mousse, and sighed as she unlocked the front door. |
| 3347 |
It was enough to keep her busy until she picked Pip up at three thirty. But as she walked past Chad's room, she couldn't help herself. She opened the door and looked in. The shades were drawn and it was dark, and so empty and sad, it nearly tore her heart out. His posters were still there, and all his treasures. |
| 3348 |
It had a dry quality, like a leaf that had fallen and was slowly dying, and a musty smell. And as she always did, she went to his bed, and put her head on his pillow. She could still smell him, although more faintly. And then, as always happened when she walked into this room, the sobs engulfed her. |
| 3349 |
They only postponed the inevitable agony, as she realized once again that Chad was never coming home. She had to tear herself away finally, and went back to her bedroom, feeling drained and exhausted. But she refused to give in to it. She saw Ted's clothes hanging there, and it was almost too much for her. |
| 3350 |
She could still smell his cologne and almost hear him. She almost couldn't bear it. But she forced herself not to give in to it. She couldn't. She knew that now. She couldn't afford to become a robot again, to stop feeling, or to let the feelings destroy her. She had to learn to live with pain, to go on in spite of it. |
| 3351 |
She was grateful she had group that afternoon and could talk to them. The group was about to end soon, and she wasn't sure what she was going to do without them, and their support. When she went to group, she told them about the night before, the Chinese food and the loud music, and Pip sleeping in her bed with her. |
| 3352 |
Not for yet another year. The year before, of mourning them, had been a nightmare and nearly killed her. Somehow she had to make this year better. The anniversary of their death was coming up in four weeks, and although she was dreading it, she knew that in the second year of their grief, she had to make it better. |
| 3353 |
She hoped so. She was on her way to pick Pip up at school, and was stopped at a light, when she glanced into the window of a shoe store. She wasn't paying attention at first, and then she smiled to herself when she saw them. They were giant fluffy slippers for grown ups, that were made of Sesame Street characters. |
| 3354 |
She made it to school just in time to see Pip come out of the building and head for the corner where she always waited for her mother. Pip saw her as soon as she got there. She looked tired and a little disheveled, but delighted. She hopped into the car with a big grin on her face, happy to see her mother. |
| 3355 |
In spite of the simple clothes she'd worn, she looked well kept and beautifully groomed, and she looked out of place in the threadbare room. None of the furniture matched and it all seemed beaten up. It was easy to guess they'd gotten it at Goodwill, and there was a coffeemaker with styrofoam cups in the corner. |
| 3356 |
Most of the shelters have criteria that eliminate people who exhibit bizarre behavior, which makes many of the homeless population ineligible for the shelters. It's a pretty crazy rule, but it makes things easier for the shelters. We're a little soft on that here, but as a result, we see some pretty sick people. |
| 3357 |
We let them stay as long as we can, we try to find them referrals to agencies, or long term shelters, or foster care for kids. We try to meet their needs in every way we can, clothe them, house them, get them medical assistance when they need it, apply for government benefits when that's appropriate. |
| 3358 |
This is a business that breaks your heart. You're emptying an ocean with a teacup, and every time you think you've made a difference, the ocean fills up again faster than you can look. The ones that kill me are the kids. They're in the same boat with everyone else, and more liable to drown, and it's not their fault. |
| 3359 |
No frills. The real thing. You can spend a few days with us, and see how you feel. If you think it's what you're looking for and what you want to do. And after that, if we both think it's a match, we train you for a week, two at the most, depending on which area appeals to you, and then we put you to work. |
| 3360 |
They go to the clients who need us most of all. The ones who can get to us here are at least thinking a little more clearly and on their feet. Some of the people out there are actually doing okay, but they need help and may be too scared to try and get it. They don't trust us, even though they may have heard about us. |
| 3361 |
They're heroes around here. They're all a little crazy, and a lot wild. They're out there every night, five nights a week. We have a weekend crew that takes over when they're not here. But these guys are incredible. All of them. I went out with them once, it damn near broke my heart... and scared me to death. |
| 3362 |
And throughout the day, homeless people of varying sizes, ages, and genders came in to take showers, have a meal, sleep, or just get off the streets and shuffle around the lobby for a while. Some of them looked remarkably coherent and responsible, and even clean, and others looked confused and had glazed eyes. |
| 3363 |
A few were obviously inebriated, and one or two looked like they were on drugs. The Wexler Center was extremely generous in their criteria for admission. No one could use alcohol or drugs on the premises, but if they were in less than ideal condition when they got there, they were still allowed to stay. |
| 3364 |
She could hardly wait to come back, and she told Pip all about it on their way back to the house after school. Pip was understandably impressed, not only by what she heard of the Center, but by the fact that her mother had gone there and wanted to volunteer. She told Matt all about it when he called that afternoon. |
| 3365 |
And by Friday afternoon, there was no doubt in her mind, or anyone else's. She was ready to volunteer three days a week, and they wanted her. She was going to work Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and the following week they were going to train her, by having her follow various staff members for several hours each. |
| 3366 |
And she ardently hoped Andrea was wrong. He was standing there in a leather jacket and gray slacks, a plain gray turtleneck, and a well shined pair of loafers. It was the kind of outfit Ted would have worn, only better. Ted never remembered to shine his shoes, nor cared. He was too concerned with more important things. |
| 3367 |
But she had to admit, in spite of everything, he appeared to be at peace, and fairly content. His life suited him, and his house was comfortable. He enjoyed his work. The only thing that appeared to be missing in his life was people, and he didn't seem to miss them either. He was a very solitary being. |
| 3368 |
They were just better than they had been, and she had acquired more effective tools to cope. It was all she could hope for, and in some ways seemed enough. But she felt overwhelmed with sadness, and a sense of loss again, as she said good bye to Blake, and she looked grief stricken when she picked Pip up at school. |
| 3369 |
It was all too familiar to her. And she remembered when Chad had looked that way too. That glazed, dark, vague, nameless misery that seemed bottomless and left its victim paralyzed with lethargy, indifference, and grief. Pip wanted to do something to stop it before it took hold, but she didn't know what. |
| 3370 |
And as soon as they got there, Pip slipped into the upstairs den that no one used anymore, and called Matt. It was raining that day, and he was working on her portrait, instead of painting on the beach. As winter advanced, he would do that less and less, but the weather was still pretty good, except for today. |
| 3371 |
And she realized, as she looked more closely, that he seemed somewhat disheveled and unsteady on his feet. "I'm cooking dinner," she said awkwardly, unable to figure out what he wanted. But she knew he had her address from the group list they'd distributed that day so those who wanted to could stay in touch. |
| 3372 |
If he got into the house, he might hurt her or Pip. Knowing that gave her the strength she needed, and without warning, using her full force, she shoved him backward with one hand, and slammed the door with the other, as Mousse appeared at the top of the stairs and began to bark as he came bounding toward her. |
| 3373 |
Blake said he felt confident it wouldn't happen again, but it had been a good lesson to her to be cautious and wary of strangers, even those she knew slightly. There was a whole new world out there, waiting for her, full of evils she had never encountered before, as a married woman. It was not a cheering thought. |
| 3374 |
Apparently, they all had their own ways of dealing with the destabilizing effect of losing the support of the group. His had just been scarier than most. But it showed her that she wasn't the only one depressed and shaken up by it. It was a major adjustment, and a loss of sorts, to no longer have the group. |
| 3375 |
You couldn't let on to the clients how tragic you thought their situation was, or how hopeless. Most of the time, it was hard to imagine their ever getting out of their desperate situations, but some did. And whether they did or not, like the others at the Center, she was there to do everything she could to help them. |
| 3376 |
She was so moved by everything she was experiencing that her biggest regret, when she went home at night, was that she couldn't tell Ted about it. She liked to believe that he would have been fascinated by it. Instead, she shared as much as seemed reasonable with Pip, without frightening her unduly. |
| 3377 |
He had come by to check their provisions, they were adding some new medical and hygiene supplies to their usual offerings. Most of the time, he didn't come to work till six o'clock, and usually stayed on the streets until three or four in the morning. And it was easy to see that he loved what he was doing. |
| 3378 |
And there had been a distinct chill in the air at night for the past few weeks. They carried with them doughnuts and sandwiches and thermoses of coffee, she knew, and Jeff had said that they stopped at McDonald's sometimes halfway through the night. Whatever they had planned, she was prepared, as best she could be. |
| 3379 |
They went to areas she had never known, down back alleys that made her shudder, and saw people so far beyond her ken that it nearly ripped out her heart. People with scabs on their faces, covered with sores, with rags on their feet instead of shoes, or without even that, barefoot and sometimes half naked in the cold. |
| 3380 |
It's safer for them most of the time than where they've been. The programs try for reunification with their families, but a lot of times no one gives a damn. Their parents don't even care where they've been. They come here from all over the country, and they just wander around, living on the streets till they grow up. |
| 3381 |
They can't exist anywhere but here. Since federal funds got cut back years ago, we don't have the mental hospitals anymore to house them, and even the ones who look relatively okay probably aren't. There's a lot of mental illness out here. That's all the substance abuse is, a lot of selfmedication just to survive. |
| 3382 |
He knew what he had been doing when he asked her. Everyone had said she was great, and he wanted her for the outreach team before she got bogged down in a lot of paperwork at the Center. He had sensed almost instantly that she would be a valuable member of the outreach team, if he could get her to sign up. |
| 3383 |
He told her that among the aggressive and the hostile, dirty needles were the weapon of choice. And as he said it, all she could think of was Pip. She couldn't afford to get injured or killed. It reminded her, even if only for an instant, that she was crazy to be out here. But being there was like a drug. |
| 3384 |
She was already addicted to it before the night was out. What they were doing was the single greatest act of giving and caring that she could imagine. These people were putting their lives on the line every night. Unaided, unarmed, unsupported, they went out there on a mission of mercy that in turn risked their lives. |
| 3385 |
She liked him even better than Jeff. Bob was quiet and hardworking and kind to the people they dealt with, and respectful to her. She had learned in the hours they'd spent together that his wife had died of cancer four years before. He was bringing up three children on his own, with his sister's help. |
| 3386 |
He had a pension from the force, so he could afford the low pay he made at Wexler. More than anything, he loved the job. And he was less of a cowboy than Jeff. He had been incredibly nice to her all night, and she was dismayed to discover that they had devoured nearly an entire box of doughnuts together. |
| 3387 |
The luxury, the comforts, the colors, the warmth, the food in the refrigerator, her bathtub, and the hot water as she got in it. It all seemed infinitely precious suddenly, as she lay there soaking for nearly an hour, thinking back on what she'd seen, what she had done, what she had just committed to. |
| 3388 |
And as she got into bed next to Pip, who had opted to sleep in her mother's bed again that night, she had never in her life been as grateful for her child, and the life they shared. She went to sleep with her arms around her daughter, giving silent thanks, and woke with a start when she heard the alarm. |
| 3389 |
What would happen to Pip if she got hurt? Yet it no longer seemed as likely. The team seemed very efficient, and as best they could, they took no obvious risks. The risks were inherent on the streets, but they were sensible people who knew what they were doing. But it was still more than a little scary anyway. |
| 3390 |
She didn't want to have a place to go or mourn. As far as she was concerned, she had explained to Pip the year before, they carried them in their hearts. All that had been left in the rubble were Chad's belt buckle, and Ted's wedding ring, both twisted almost beyond recognition, but she had saved both. |
| 3391 |
You could have heard a pin drop all day in the silent house. And it reminded them both of the day of Ted's and Chad's deaths. Neither of them ate, neither of them spoke, and when the doorbell rang that afternoon, they both jumped. It was flowers from Matt, he had sent a small bouquet to each of them. |
| 3392 |
He sounded infinitely sympathetic, but had no wisdom to offer, having never been through it himself. His own losses had stretched over time, and finally become evident. They hadn't happened all at once in a single hideous instant like theirs. "I didn't want to intrude, so I didn't call," he apologized. |
| 3393 |
And she felt guilty just rejecting the invitation out of hand. "I'm not very good company." She still felt utterly worn out by the previous day's emotions, especially the hours she had spent sobbing on Chad's bed, muffling the sounds of her crying in his pillow, which still smelled faintly like him. |
| 3394 |
But he noticed instantly how sad she was. She looked as though there was a thousand pound weight on her heart, which there was. He sat her in his deck chair, and put an old plaid blanket over her, insisting she stay there and relax, and then he enlisted Pip to help him make mushroom omelettes and help him chop herbs. |
| 3395 |
You just had to be smart and fast and keep your eyes open, which they all did. But beyond that, for the most part, they had to rely on their own wits, the benevolence of the homeless they served, and the grace of God. There was no question in anyone's mind, at any given time, something bad could happen. |
| 3396 |
She didn't know why, but she felt right being out there, and was no longer scared. She hadn't even been as frightened as she would have expected to be when the addict pulled the gun on them, but she didn't say anything about it to Matt. He would have had her locked up, as he'd threatened to earlier. |
| 3397 |
He was suddenly convinced that his newfound friend was going to die. And he didn't want that to happen to her, to Pip, or to him. He had a lot at stake now, and hadn't in a long time. He cared about both of them. His heart was at risk now too. He put a log on the fire when they got back to his house. |
| 3398 |
Dying no longer held the terror for her it once had. She knew that death was the one thing you could not control. "That's less likely and you know it." He sounded desperately frustrated, and after a few minutes they both got off the phone. She was not about to resign from the outreach team, and he knew it. |
| 3399 |
She had no intention of resigning from the team, and Matt knew it. But he had every intention of continuing to reason with her about it, and put pressure on her to resign. They finally got onto other subjects for the first time in a week, and they both seemed to relax over a glass of wine as they sat by the fire. |
| 3400 |
But he was doing the best he could, given the limitations of his role in her life. And as she walked slowly up the stairs in the dark, to find Pip in her bed, as usual, she was thinking of him. He was a nice man, and a good friend, and she was lucky that someone cared about them. It had been a nice evening with him. |
| 3401 |
He was her friend, and nothing more. As he drove back to Safe Harbour, Matt was smiling to himself. He was a little shocked at what he had done before he had left her house, but it was for a good cause. The idea had only come to him as he sat next to her and happened to look past her at a photograph on the table. |
| 3402 |
He wasn't angry at her, she knew, just frustrated that she refused to agree with him. And he worried about her, and Pip too. He arrived for the father daughter dinner in a blazer, gray slacks, a blue shirt, and red tie, and Pip looked proud when they left for the dinner, held in the gym at her school. |
| 3403 |
It horrified her now to think that she was single again, and the dating world terrified her. She was much happier at home with Pip, than out carousing with men who were cheating on their wives, or even bachelors who wanted to stay that way, and were just looking to get laid. She couldn't think of anything worse. |
| 3404 |
They were much better off as friends, no matter what Andrea thought. He and Pip came home at ten thirty that night. She looked happy and disheveled, her shirt had come untucked from her skirt, and he had his tie in his pocket. They had eaten fried chicken, and danced to rap music the girls had selected. |
| 3405 |
And she and Bob had become good friends. She gave him gratuitous advice about his kids, although he seemed to be doing fine on his own, and she talked a lot about Pip. He had just started dating his wife's best friend, which she thought was sweet, and probably good for his kids, who were crazy about her. |
| 3406 |
It was funny how people learned to survive, she mused. One learned to make do, and to make shift, and substitute and rely on friends instead of mates and spouses. They became family to each other, huddled together like people in a lifeboat in a storm. It wasn't what she had expected to do with her life, but it worked. |
| 3407 |
There was no way to dress it up, soften it, or pretend it was less painful than it was. And when she said grace to the small group at her kitchen table, expressing gratitude for all they had to share, and asking for God's blessing on her lost son and husband, she broke down and sobbed. Pip cried with her. |
| 3408 |
She had worn his wedding ring for the past year, on a thin chain around her neck. No one knew it was there, but she did, and her hand went to it from time to time, just to reassure herself that he had in fact existed, that they had been married, and she had once been loved. It was almost hard to remember that now. |
| 3409 |
She could feel something rustle in one of the pockets as she did, and without thinking she reached inside. It was a letter, and for an insane moment, she wanted it to be a letter from him to her, but it wasn't. It was a single typed sheet someone had written on a computer, with an initial at the bottom of the page. |
| 3410 |
I know only too well how hard this has been for you. And like you, I'm not all that convinced he really has problems. I have never truly believed the diagnosis, and I think it's possible that the so called suicide attempts were only bids for your attention, maybe even asking you to save him from her. |
| 3411 |
And he is a lot more like us, you and me, than he is like her. It's obvious to both of us that she doesn't understand him. Maybe because he's smarter than she is, maybe even smarter than we are. In any case, if it's what you want, I'd be willing to try it, and have him live with us, if that's what you decide. |
| 3412 |
She feeds off of you, and them, in order to give her life meaning. It doesn't have one. She'll have to find a life of her own, sooner or later. Maybe in the long run, this is what she needs, to jolt her into realizing how pointless her life is, how empty, and how little she has come to mean to you. She drains you. |
| 3413 |
I know that you have made no firm decision yet, but I think I know what you want, as you do. All you have to do is reach out and claim it, as you claimed me. As you reached out nearly a year ago now. This baby would never have happened if it wasn't meant to be, if you didn't want us as badly as I do. |
| 3414 |
Our baby is coming. Our life will begin soon, just as his will, or hers, although I feel sure it is a boy, just like you. God is offering us a new life, a fresh start, the life we have always wanted, between two people who understand and respect each other, two people who are in fact one now in this child. |
| 3415 |
And then as she knew, as she thought of it, as it came to her, she wanted to die. The baby spoken of in the letter had been born, if it had been, six months after he died. William Theodore. She hadn't dared name him Ted, but she had come close enough. And it was not the honor she had claimed it was for her dead friend. |
| 3416 |
The single signed letter "A" was her initial, and she had even manipulated him about Chad, played into his desperate need for denial, and criticized her. The letter had been written by the woman who had claimed for eighteen years to be her best friend. It was beyond belief, beyond thinking, beyond bearing. |
| 3417 |
It no longer mattered. And now he had killed her, as surely as if he had shot her. The letter made a travesty of their marriage, not to mention her friendship with Andrea. She couldn't understand how anyone could do that to her, how she could be so insidious and so treacherous, so dishonest and so cruel. |
| 3418 |
She could understand suddenly how people committed crimes of passion. But she didn't want to kill her. She just wanted to see her, to take one last look at her, the woman who had destroyed their marriage, who had turned her memories of Ted and what they had shared to ashes. She couldn't even allow herself to hate him. |
| 3419 |
She had made no call of warning, and she ran up the stairs and rang the doorbell. She had worn no coat over her thin shirt, not even a sweater, and she felt nothing. It took Andrea only a moment to answer the doorbell. She was holding the baby in his pajamas, and they both smiled the minute they saw her. |
| 3420 |
Andrea didn't argue with her, and she was shaking too, as she held the baby. They were both cold and in shock, and badly shaken, and Andrea knew she deserved it. She had worried endlessly about what he had done with the letter, but when it never surfaced, she assumed he had destroyed it, and hoped he had. |
| 3421 |
And hear me. He hadn't made up his mind yet. He told me he didn't see how he could ever leave you, you had been so good to him in the beginning, and always, he knew that... he was a selfish man, he only did what he wanted to, and he wanted me, but I think he was only playing. We had a lot in common. |
| 3422 |
As though she was blind suddenly. The robot had returned, and it was utterly, totally broken, with sparks shooting everywhere, a system that had misfired and was self destroying as Pip watched. "I'm going to bed now" was all she said to Pip, and then turned off the lights and lay there, staring into space. |
| 3423 |
Pip snuggled up to her mother then, and neither of them slept for a long time. Pip kept glancing up to check on her mother, and when they finally fell asleep, they slept with the lights on that night, to keep the demons away. Matt's Thanksgiving had been at the opposite end of the spectrum from theirs. |
| 3424 |
And then made himself a tuna fish sandwich. He liked doing everything he could to prove to himself it wasn't Thanksgiving Day. Even a turkey sandwich by coincidence would have been an affront. And he was washing the plate he'd eaten the sandwich on when he heard a knock at the door. He couldn't imagine who it was. |
| 3425 |
He thought of ignoring it, but the knock was persistent. So he finally strode to the door and pulled it open, and stared at the unfamiliar face. There was a tall young man standing there with brown eyes and dark hair, and he had a beard. The odd thing was that the face wasn't entirely unfamiliar to him. |
| 3426 |
It had been cleverly done, almost brilliantly, and had succeeded for the past six years. Robert said he had been looking for him since September, and finally found him three days before. It had been his Thanksgiving gift to himself to drive over and surprise him. His only fear was that Matt would refuse to see him. |
| 3427 |
He couldn't even begin to imagine what had gone through her head. He had a lot to say to her, but he wanted to cool off first, or he knew he wouldn't even be coherent. He was going to call Hamish too. He assumed he'd been part of her plot, but Robert didn't seem to think he was, and still insisted he was a nice guy. |
| 3428 |
And he knew he never would. He and Vanessa talked for a few more minutes and then she talked to Robert, and he tried to explain as much as he knew. It sounded incredible to them too, but Robert believed his father. He could see in his eyes that it was the truth, and he could also see what it had cost him. |
| 3429 |
There was a depth of pain that Matt hadn't been able to hide in years, even from his son now. Seeing that, and knowing what had happened put Robert's relationship with his mother on the line, which was hard for him too. Matt and Robert talked for hours and were still talking when Pip called about her mother. |
| 3430 |
And he walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulders, and together, they walked inside. He had put the portrait away, and Pip was looking around, wondering where it was, with a shy smile. Their eyes met conspiratorially, and he nodded, as though to tell her that it was all in good order, and done. |
| 3431 |
She didn't know what to say to him, but she knew now that she wanted to share it with him. She walked over to where she had left her handbag, pulled out An drea's letter, and handed it to him. He hesitated, holding it, wanting to ask her if she was sure she wanted him to read it, but he could see that she was. |
| 3432 |
She sat down across from him at the table, with her head in her hands, as he began to read. It didn't take him long. And when he had finished, he looked at her, and said not a word. Her eyes were bottomless pools of pain, and now he knew why. He reached out and took her hand, and they sat that way for a long time. |
| 3433 |
And this time they could not fix it, or talk about it, or explain. She had to live with it this time, all by herself. There would be no repairing it this time. The fabric of their entire life together had been torn to shreds in a single night, with one letter, and a betrayal by a friend. Damage beyond repair. |
| 3434 |
They put on their coats and went outside, and he put an arm around her and pulled her close. She suddenly seemed even smaller and so frail. They walked down the beach, and she leaned against him, as though for support. He was the only friend she had left, the only person she still trusted, and knew she could. |
| 3435 |
And she felt as though her whole life had changed. She had made a decision that morning to get rid of Ted's clothes. It was her way of throwing him out of the house, and punishing him posthumously for what he'd done. It was the only revenge she had left, but she also knew it would be good for her. She had to move on. |
| 3436 |
She knew now that she was hanging on to her illusions and a lifetime of dreams. It was time to wake up, no matter how alone it made her feel. She told Matt when Pip went to her room to do her homework, and he was afraid to say too much. He didn't want to tell her that he thought her late husband was a sonofabitch. |
| 3437 |
It didn't seem fair. She had to come to those conclusions herself. And it was hard to let go now in death, after she had been willing to forgive him so much in life. She had been willing to tolerate almost anything from him. But Matt was pleased to see her making different decisions now, and silently approved. |
| 3438 |
But he had picked a slightly more grown up restaurant than usual for her birthday night. He wanted to take her somewhere special. She deserved a reward for all the misery Ted and Andrea had just put her through. And she told him that she'd had a letter from Andrea, which had been delivered by messenger that afternoon. |
| 3439 |
She had an uneventful night, as she told Matt when he called to check on her on Wednesday, and it was another quiet night when she went out with them on Thursday. They had come across several camps of kids and young people, some of them still decently dressed from when they left home, which tugged at her heart. |
| 3440 |
They had a lovely time at dinner, and he had arranged a birthday cake for her at the restaurant. It was a perfect birthday, and Pip was yawning when they got home. It had been a big night for her too. She had waited months for the presentation of the portrait, and her excitement and anticipation had worn her out. |
| 3441 |
The safety of the entire team rested on each one of them. And although they were casual at times, and joked with each other, and even those they helped, they still had to keep their wits about them and remain aware of the players. They had to anticipate the worst in order to prevent it happening to them. |
| 3442 |
There were the inevitable stories of cops and volunteers and social workers who'd been killed on the streets, usually doing something they shouldn't have done, like going out to work on the streets alone. They knew better, but there was always the temptation to believe that they were exempt and couldn't be touched. |
| 3443 |
It was late in their night, when it was usually safer there. By then, a lot of the troublemakers had gone to bed, and the neighborhood had calmed down. "There's a news flash," he said with a look of interest. He had come to respect her and like her a lot in the nearly three months they'd worked together. |
| 3444 |
More than anything, she didn't want to jeopardize their friendship, and a romance, if it went awry, might. She didn't want to risk that for him, or herself, or even more importantly for Pip. If she and Matt got involved romantically, and made a mess of it, it could spoil it all, and that was the last thing she wanted. |
| 3445 |
Pip worried less about her mother's moods these days. Whatever else happened, she seemed to recover from the bad days sooner. Although she still didn't know what had happened on Thanksgiving. All she knew was that it had something to do with Andrea. Her mother had told her that they wouldn't be seeing her again. |
| 3446 |
Someone simpler, and who had been less brutally hurt than she had been, and again recently. At times, she felt so damaged. Yet with him she always felt peaceful, whole, and safe, which said a lot. He came to town and had dinner with her and Pip that weekend, and on Sunday she and Pip drove out to the beach to see him. |
| 3447 |
Their relationship, past, present, and future, was of vital importance to him, and he wanted to treat it cautiously, and give her all the time and space she needed to make room for him in her heart. He was just about to pick up the phone on Monday night to call her, when it rang before he did. He was hoping it was her. |
| 3448 |
Her wheels were always turning to her own advantage. It was just the way she was, and had always been. And at the time, Hamish had been a better deal for her. He had more money, more toys, more houses, he was more fun, so she dumped her husband and moved on. It was still hard to take, and Matt knew it would always be. |
| 3449 |
She was not at all sure yet if she wanted to forge ahead. He had only kissed her a few times by then, and he was willing to wait, however long it took. Although he was aware that the passion he felt for her distracted him. He was equally well aware of all the trauma she'd been through, especially recently. |
| 3450 |
He had come to mean so much to her, but she still didn't know what to do about it, when, or if. She felt strongly about him, but her feelings were in constant conflict with her fears. But he wasn't asking for answers or promises. He never put pressure on her, except about this, which he did constantly. |
| 3451 |
She was far too attached to Matt by now, not to be affected by the specter of his exwife. What if he fell in love with her again? If he had before, perhaps he could again, in spite of everything she'd done. She had just been relaxing about her, but Sally's impending arrival set her on edge suddenly. |
| 3452 |
She was just trying to be friendly, for old times' sake, but even that didn't appeal to him. Far from it, after she'd stolen his kids from him. His rational mind hated her, but there were other parts of him, which responded instinctively to memory. It was Pavlovian and irritated him at himself as much as her. |
| 3453 |
She buried her face in his neck, and kissed him, and touched his face as he held her. The cruelty of their long separation was apparent in the hunger with which they held each other. He never wanted to let her out of his arms again, and he had to force himself to let go of her just so he could see her. |
| 3454 |
He had been completely unaware of anyone else from the moment he laid eyes on her. But Sally was standing halfway across the lobby, with a woman who looked like a nanny and two little boys. The years had been kind to her, she was still a good looking woman, although slightly heavier than she had been in the past. |
| 3455 |
She had talked to her brother at length about what had happened, and she was far less willing to forgive than Robert, who always made excuses for their mother and said she didn't understand her effect on people. But Vanessa hated her with all the energy of a girl of sixteen, and with good cause in this case. |
| 3456 |
He tried to be somewhat discreet for Vanessa's sake. But there was no dressing it up, or explaining it. She had kept them from their father, for her own purposes, for six years. Almost half a lifetime for them, and it felt like more than that to him. And all they wanted to do was catch up with him now. |
| 3457 |
Sally was going to New York to see friends with her two youngest children. She seemed to have nowhere to go now, and was searching for something. If he hadn't disliked her so much, he would have felt sorry for her. Sally called him again the next day, about dinner, and she tried to convince him to join them. |
| 3458 |
He had no intention of lowering the drawbridge, and hoped the alligators in the moat would devour her if she tried to take the castle. "I gather you're still painting, you have so damn much talent," she said lavishly. And then she seemed to hesitate for a moment, and sounded childish and sad when she spoke again. |
| 3459 |
It was too easy to remember all that she had once been to him, and too hard, all at the same time. He just couldn't. It would kill him. "You don't have to say anything, Sally," he said, sounding like the husband he had once been to her, the man she had known and loved, and whom she had nearly destroyed. |
| 3460 |
If he didn't, it would haunt him forever. She opened the door looking serious and elegant in a black suit, black stockings, high heels, and her long blond hair was as beautiful as her daughter's. She was still a spectacular looking woman. "Hi, Matt," she said easily, and offered him a chair and a martini. |
| 3461 |
He had had the chance he wanted for ten years, and found that he didn't really want it. It was an incredible feeling of liberation, and at the same time of loss... of disappointment, victory, and freedom. "You always were such a romantic," she said, sounding slightly irritated. Things weren't going the way she wanted. |
| 3462 |
It was special, and important to her, and she hoped he'd like it. And his face, when he opened it, was as moved as hers had been when she saw the portrait. It was an old Breguet watch of her fa ther's, from the fifties. It was a handsome piece, and she had no one to give it to now. No husband, no son, no brother. |
| 3463 |
This was quiet and powerful and real, two good people slowly and solidly bonding to each other. He would have done almost anything for her, and she knew it. And for Pip as well. She was a good woman, a great woman even, and he felt incredibly lucky. He felt totally safe when he was with her, as she did with him. |
| 3464 |
She didn't want to go through that again, with anyone, no matter how lovely and kind Matt seemed. He was human, and human beings did terrible things to each other, most often in the guise and the name of love. Asking anyone to believe in that again, and risk everything seemed almost too much to her. |
| 3465 |
She was no longer sure, and knew she could never trust anyone as she once had, not even Matt. He deserved better than that, particularly after what he'd gone through with Sally. But she and Pip were both in good spirits when they left the next day. She had brought chains with her in case they ran into snow on the way. |
| 3466 |
In the process of getting to know each other better and better, they left no stone unturned, and wanted to know everything about each other. And before they each went to their own rooms, he kissed her, and it took them forever to leave each other. What they knew of each other was a powerful force between them. |
| 3467 |
Pip looked ecstatic as she pulled off her cap and gloves. She was having a ball, and Vanessa looked happy too. She had seen some cute boys, and they had followed her on the slopes. But mostly, she just thought it was in good fun. She didn't appear to be out of control, or wild, unlike her mother at the same age. |
| 3468 |
I was afraid I would have to fight her off, in my head if nowhere else. And it wasn't like that. It seemed sad and funny, and everything that had always been wrong between us. All she wanted was to manipulate me to get what she wanted, and instead of being in love with her, I felt sorry for her. She's a very sad woman. |
| 3469 |
He knew she had issues to wrestle with, and fears to overcome, just as he did, but he wanted them both to come to the same conclusions and find each other at the end. But he was ever cautious with her. He knew how skittish she was. Better than anyone. Because he knew, or at least as much as she did, what Ted had done. |
| 3470 |
She was always happy with him. She felt protected and safe and loved in his world. She had a sense that no harm could come to her as long as she was with him. And all he wanted was to protect her, shield her from all the agonies she'd been through, and put balm on her many wounds. The prospect of that didn't daunt him. |
| 3471 |
They sat there together for a long time, and then lay on the couch, their bodies and limbs intertwined, until he finally whispered to her. "We're going to get ourselves into trouble if we stay out here for much longer." She giggled in answer, feeling like a young girl again for the first time in years. |
| 3472 |
Life would hurt them, given the opportunity. Terrible things would happen if she let down her guard and allowed him into her world completely. She would lose him, or he would betray her, or he would leave her or die. Nothing was sure anymore, she knew. She couldn't trust anyone or anything, not even him. |
| 3473 |
It was impossible to say. All she knew was that she couldn't now. It would have been too terrifying to let him in. And he was willing to wait for her. He held her in his arms for a long time that night, feeling her graceful body next to his, and he longed for her, but he was grateful for what they had. |
| 3474 |
She wasn't even embarrassed to be naked next to him. She wanted him, but not enough. He kissed her before she left his room, and she went back to her own bed and slept. She slept fitfully for two hours, and when she woke up, she felt the familiar lead weight on her chest. But it was different this time. |
| 3475 |
And she knew without a doubt that if he had pushed her that night, or forced her, or been angry at her, even the hope of a romance between them would be gone. But Matt was far wiser than that, and he loved her more. They left each other the next morning with no promises, no certainties between them, only love and hope. |
| 3476 |
He had no other choice but to wait and see what happened between them, if anything ever did. And if it didn't, if she was never able to reach out to him, then at least he could be a friend to her and Pip. He knew that was a possibility too. There were no guarantees in life. They had all had ample proof of that. |
| 3477 |
And he didn't want to close any doors between them. He wanted to leave them wide open, and give her the chance to come through them when she was ready. Whenever that happened, if it did, he'd be waiting for her. And in the meantime, all he could do was love her as best he could, even if the relationship was limited. |
| 3478 |
But she recognized the possibility that Ted might have ended her life as a woman for good. He didn't deserve to have that power over her, but much as she hated to admit it to herself, he still did. He had destroyed some essential part of her she could no longer find or retrieve. Like a sock that had gotten lost. |
| 3479 |
She knew the team well, and how capable they were. They were always sensible and cautious. They were cowboys, as they said themselves, but cowboys who knew their way around the streets, and watched their backs, and hers. And she had grown skilled at what she was doing too. She was no longer an innocent on the streets. |
| 3480 |
They had added more supplies for their route, a number of food items, more medical supplies, warm clothes, condoms, and there was a wholesaler donating down jackets to them regularly. The vans were loaded that night, and the night was bitter cold. Bob told her with a grin that she should have worn long johns. |
| 3481 |
It reminded her of how unnecessary Matt's fears for her were when she was on the streets. She was completely relaxed, and joking with Millie and Jeff when they stopped for hot coffee and something to eat. It was freezing outside, and the people on the street were miserable, and grateful for everything they gave them. |
| 3482 |
They had never even seen him pull the gun. And within a split second, he seemed to do a twirl and a jump in space, leaped like a ballet dancer, and started to run. Jeff started to run after him, and Bob shouted after him as the two men in the doorway vanished into thin air. They disappeared and a door closed. |
| 3483 |
Everything happened so fast, and the whole focus was on Jeff and the man he was chasing, as Millie ran faster and shouted at Jeff too. They weren't armed, there was no point chasing him down. If they got him, there was nothing they could do except risk being shot while they wrestled him to the ground. |
| 3484 |
The man with the gun had shot her. "Fuck, Opie... what did you do?" he said, as he got down on his knees and tried to pick her up. He wanted to get her out of there, hoping it was a surface wound, but he saw instantly that she was too badly injured to move, and they were sitting ducks with her lying where they were. |
| 3485 |
He was pissed at Jeff. The alley had been a bad decision. It was the first dumb one they'd made in a long time. And he was even more pissed at himself for letting her do it, and not following her more closely. But without guns, there was almost nothing they could do to protect each other in situations like this. |
| 3486 |
It was getting weaker, and it had only been minutes, but it felt like lifetimes. But they could hear the sirens coming, and a second later, Jeff saw Millie waving, as the paramedics came running. They loaded her onto the gurney quickly, as one of them ran a line into her arm while they were still moving. |
| 3487 |
But how much more scary could it be than telling her that her mom had been shot twice in the chest and once in the stomach. Jeff shook his head and headed for the phone, as the others waited, leaning against the wall near the trauma unit door. At least no one had come out yet to tell them she had died. |
| 3488 |
He was praying far harder for her mother. And he didn't comment to Pip about the insanity of her mother being on the streets late at night with the outreach team. This was what he had feared, and predicted, all along. But there was no comfort now in having been right. He couldn't see how she would survive. |
| 3489 |
None to him, or Pip. Nothing was going to bring her back if she died. But at least she wasn't dead yet. He went to the desk several times and asked them, but all they could tell him was that she was still in surgery. In the end, she was there for seven hours. But at the end of it, she was still alive. |
| 3490 |
The other one came out the back of her neck, and missed her spine. All things considered, she was pretty lucky, but she's not out of the woods yet. The third bullet took out an ovary and her appendix, and did some nasty damage to her stomach and her intestines. We've been working on that for the last four hours. |
| 3491 |
But it was clear to all of them, even Pip, what a long, delicate treacherous haul it would be. She was by no means out of the woods. The others went back to the Center that afternoon, but promised to come back that night, while they were on their route. They had to get home and get a few hours' sleep. |
| 3492 |
And Bob and Jeff had already said that from then on they were going to be carrying guns, since they all still had permits to do so, and Millie agreed. There was a major question now as to whether the outreach team was an appropriate placement for volunteers. It was obvious to everyone that it wasn't. |
| 3493 |
And as soon as they left, they gave her morphine. He tried to talk Pip into going home for an hour then, to rest and clean up and get something to eat. And after they'd given her mother the shot to make her sleep, she finally agreed, although reluctantly. He went back to the house with her, and Mousse greeted them. |
| 3494 |
And then Matt went to make scrambled eggs and toast for them. There were two messages on the machine from Pip's school, expressing their concern for her. Alice had apparently called them that morning before she left, and she had left a note on the kitchen table, telling Pip to call if she needed anything. |
| 3495 |
They discussed it over breakfast, and decided to stop at Macy's on the way back to pick up some things for him. It was obvious that Pip didn't want him to leave, so he didn't. He finally got a minute to call Robert and tell him that morning, and made an arrangement with Alice to walk the dog regularly. |
| 3496 |
But as she did, he wished it would. She drifted off to sleep then, pleased about having spoken to him, and he sat there for a long time, watching her with a quiet smile. He went to call Robert again then, he had promised he would, and reported what was happening. He had offered to come in from Stanford that morning. |
| 3497 |
And he'd been apprehended completing a drug transaction only three blocks from Jesse, the alley where she'd been shot. The suspect still had the gun on him. They were going to try to identify him in a lineup the next day, but there was no question about who he was. And he was going to be sent away for a long time. |
| 3498 |
So far, it was all good news. Except for her. Her life still hung in the balance and it was early days yet. But when they saw her the next morning, she smiled at both of them, and asked when she could go home. They moved her from critical to serious condition, and the surgeon in charge said she was doing well. |
| 3499 |
They packed a picnic lunch in the city, since he had nothing to eat out there. And as soon as they got to the house in Safe Harbour, he set the basket on the table, and put some music on. She had a fair idea of what he was thinking, and she was ready this time. They had waited a long, long time for this. |
| 3500 |
Long before he ever touched her, she was already his, and wanted to be. She followed him into his bedroom, and he took her clothes off gently and laid her down on his bed, and then he joined her, and they cuddled quietly under the sheets, until passion overtook them, and swept them away on a gentle sea. |
| 3501 |
And all she could think of as she sat there was of having been at the delivery with her, less than a year before. It had been so exciting and so joyful, and so moving, and as she thought of it, she realized that that was how she would remember her. And suddenly she was glad that she hadn't seen her when she was sick. |
| 3502 |
And it would have been a full time job. For Pip and Matt's sake, she wanted help with him, or she wouldn't have enough time or energy for them. She did some quick thinking and spoke to Matt for a few minutes, and he was willing, if she thought it would be all right with Pip, which she was sure it would be. |
| 3503 |
But it had taken more than luck and happy accidents or even love. It had taken wisdom and courage to put their lives back together, and to have the sheer grit it took to reach out and hold on tight. It would have been so much easier to never try, to never touch at all, to run away and hide, while protecting old wounds. |
| 3504 |
But even those who disliked her had to admit they respected her. She was a woman of power, passion, and integrity, and she would fight to the death for a cause she believed in, or a person she had promised to support. She never broke a promise, and when she gave her word, you knew you could count on her. |
| 3505 |
She and the conductor had remained good friends. He had come before the architect, whom she had left when the affair got too complicated and he threatened to leave his wife for her. She didn't want to marry him, or anyone. She hadn't wanted to marry the conductor either, although he had asked her repeatedly. |
| 3506 |
Marriage always seemed too high risk to her, she would have preferred to do a high wire act in the circus than risk marriage, and she warned men of that. Marriage was never an option for her. Her own childhood had been hard enough to convince her that she didn't want to risk that kind of pain for anyone. |
| 3507 |
Her father had abandoned her mother when her mother was twenty five and she was three. Her mother had attempted two more marriages to men Fiona hated, both were drunks, as her father had been. She never saw her father again after he left, nor his family, and knew only that he had died when she was fourteen. |
| 3508 |
And her mother had died when she was in college. Fiona had no siblings, no known relatives. She was alone in the world by the time she was twenty, graduated from Wellesley, and made it on her own after that. She crawled her way up the ladder in minor fashion magazines and landed at Chic by the time she was twenty nine. |
| 3509 |
Fiona was a legend by the time she was thirty five, and the most powerful female magazine editor in the country at forty. Fiona had nearly infallible judgment, an unfailing sense for fashion and what would work, and a head for business that everyone she worked with admired. And more than that, she had courage. |
| 3510 |
She was never really alone anyway, she was constantly surrounded by photographers, assistants, designers, models, artists, and a flock of hangers on. She had a full calendar and an active social life and a host of interesting friends. She always said that it wouldn't bother her if she never lived with anyone again. |
| 3511 |
The meeting was merely a matter of form to meet each other. He had been reorganizing the London office when she decided to hire the firm, and now that he was back in town, they had agreed to meet. He had suggested lunch, but she didn't have time, so she'd suggested he come to her office, intending to keep it brief. |
| 3512 |
She returned half a dozen calls before the meeting, and Adrian Wicks, her most important editor, dropped in for five minutes to discuss the couture shows in Paris with her. Adrian was a tall, thin, stylish, somewhat effeminate black man who had been a designer himself for a few years before he came to Chic. |
| 3513 |
As Fiona looked across her desk to the doorway, she watched John Anderson walk in, and came around her desk to greet him. She smiled as their eyes met, and each took the other's measure. He was a tall, powerfully built man with impeccably groomed white hair, bright blue eyes, and a youthful face and demeanor. |
| 3514 |
She also knew he had two daughters in college, one at Brown and the other at Princeton. Fiona always remembered personal details, she found them interesting, and sometimes useful to help her know who she was dealing with. "Thank you for coming over," she said pleasantly as they stood eyeing each other. |
| 3515 |
She nodded, and looked serious for a moment as she watched him. She hadn't expected him to look quite that uptight, or be that good looking. He seemed calm and conservative, but at the same time there was something undeniably electric about him, as though there were an invisible current that moved through him. |
| 3516 |
The magazine was the most established in the business, and she expected their advertising to reflect that. She didn't want anything wild or crazy. John was relieved to hear it. Chic was a great account for them, and he was beginning to look forward to his dealings with her. More so than before the meeting. |
| 3517 |
In fact, as he drank a second glass of lemonade, and the air conditioning finally came back on, he had actually decided that he liked her. He liked her style, and the straightforward way she outlined their needs and issues. She had clear, sound ideas about advertising, just as she did about her own business. |
| 3518 |
She was totally feminine, and strong at the same time. She was a woman to be feared and admired. Fiona walked him to the elevator, something she did rarely. She was usually in a hurry to get back to work, but she lingered for a few minutes, talking to him, and she was pleased when she went back to her office. |
| 3519 |
She left the office late that afternoon and as always was in a hurry. She hailed a cab outside their offices on Park Avenue, and sped uptown to her brownstone. It was after six when she got home, already wilted from the heat in the cab. And the moment she walked in she could hear chaos in her kitchen. |
| 3520 |
Her dinner parties always appeared casual but in fact were always more carefully orchestrated than she admitted, however impromptu or last minute the arrangements. She was a perfectionist, although she enjoyed eclectic people, and collected an odd assortment of acquaintances from a wide range of artistic fields. |
| 3521 |
He had obviously put some effort into the research. She made notes of what he said, and he told her he'd fax over more information later. She thanked him, and was about to get off the phone and deal with the chaos around her, when he switched into another gear entirely, and she could almost hear him smiling. |
| 3522 |
He seemed like a nice guy, and a decent person. He was waiting downstairs in a black Lincoln Town Car with a driver. He smiled broadly the moment he saw her. She was wearing pink linen slacks, a white sleeveless shirt, and sandals, and with a straw bag over her shoulder, she looked as if she were going to the beach. |
| 3523 |
He was wearing a beige suit and a blue shirt, and another serious looking dark tie. All business, in sharp contrast to Fiona's summer look. She had her hair piled in a loose knot on her head with ivory chopsticks stuck in it. He couldn't resist wondering suddenly what would happen if he pulled them out. |
| 3524 |
She was telling him about the meeting she'd just been in, and he realized as he looked at her that he hadn't heard a word she said. By then, they had reached the deli, and the driver opened the door and helped her out. The deli was busy and full, looked efficient and clean, and the food smelled delicious. |
| 3525 |
He had an odd look on his face, as though he had been struck by something, as the waiter poured his coffee. "No." He wanted to tell her he liked her perfume, but was afraid she would think him a fool if he did. She didn't look like the sort of person to mix business with pleasure, and normally neither did he. |
| 3526 |
And he was feeling mesmerized. Without meaning to, she had a seductive quality about her, and he found it hard to keep his mind on business as he sat across the table from her, looking into the deep green eyes that looked back so earnestly at him. She was entirely oblivious to what he was thinking about her. |
| 3527 |
She was so stylishly thin that it was hard to imagine that she ate much, but she didn't look anorexic either. There was just enough meat on her bones to give her figure a look that appealed to him. She looked athletic, and he noticed that she had firm, thin, strong arms. He wondered if she played tennis or swam a lot. |
| 3528 |
I wouldn't have minded running it for a few years. Actually, they offered me that first, several years ago, but I couldn't ask Ann to move, she was too sick by then, and I wouldn't have wanted to leave the girls here, they didn't want to leave their schools. In the end, I got a bigger job later by turning them down. |
| 3529 |
And then she hurried into the building as he drove off, thinking about her. Fiona Monaghan was a remarkable woman, beautiful, intelligent, exciting, elegant, and in her own inimitable way, scary as hell. But as he thought about her as he went back to his office, he wasn't scared. John Anderson was seriously intrigued. |
| 3530 |
Fiona stood watching them up to her hips in the water, it was the only relief, as she fanned herself with a huge straw hat. Her cell phone rang late that afternoon, for the ninety second time. Every other time it had been her office with some new crisis. They were deep into the September issue by then. |
| 3531 |
Fiona ran Chic with an iron hand. She worried about the budget and was the most fiscally responsible editor in chief they'd ever had. In spite of their vast expenses, the magazine had been in the black for years and turned a handsome profit, in great part thanks to her, and the quality of her product. |
| 3532 |
By then, his wife was asleep in the car with the twins. And Fiona realized she was exhausted as she watched the last of the shoot. It was after nine before they got everyone dressed and off the beach, all the camera equipment packed up, and the models into the limousines that Chic had hired for the day. |
| 3533 |
But from a technical standpoint, it had been a perfect day. She knew the shots would be great, and none of the problems would ever show. But as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she felt a hundred years old. And she smiled when she found Sir Winston snoring loudly on her bed. She envied him the life he led. |
| 3534 |
She had told everyone that if the heat wasn't too unbearable, they would eat in her garden. On warm summer nights, that was relaxing and nice. And Jamal made fabulous pasta. He had wanted to do paella, but she didn't trust the shellfish in the heat, which seemed wise, so she had told him to make pasta. |
| 3535 |
They had only moved into the city after she got sick, because it was easier for her to be close to the hospital for treatment. And she had been too sick by then to entertain. She had spent her last two years in their current apartment, which made it a sad place for him now, but he didn't say that to Fiona. |
| 3536 |
She liked him, and felt an undeniable attraction to him, although he was entirely different from any other man who had appealed to her. She had gone out with a few conservative preppy guys when she was young. But in recent years, she had been drawn to artistic, creative men, which had always ended up in disaster. |
| 3537 |
Maybe it was time for a change. She was still thinking about him when she slipped into bed next to Sir Winston, who rolled over with a groan and went on snoring more loudly than ever. It was a familiar sound that always lulled her to sleep. And as always, she slept straight through until her alarm went off at seven. |
| 3538 |
It might turn out to be one of those mild mutual attractions that went nowhere. Or more than likely, they'd just be friends, if that. They were so immensely different, the likelihood of anything coming of it seemed slim to none to her. They'd probably drive each other insane. They were better off as friends. |
| 3539 |
She tasted one of them when she came in. He was wearing hot pink capri pants, gold Indian sandals, and was bare chested. Most of her friends were used to Jamal's exotic getups, and she thought they lent her evenings a festive air, although she wondered about his not wearing a shirt, and she mentioned it to him. |
| 3540 |
She and Jamal looked almost like a matched set. He had put plates, napkins, and cutlery on the table in the garden, and there were candles and flowers everywhere. She tossed some big cozy cushions around in case people wanted to sit on the floor, and put some music on, just as the first guests came through the door. |
| 3541 |
The living room, dining room, and kitchen were on the main floor, and there was a cozy library on the second floor, and a guest room next to it. The colors she had chosen were all warm caramel and chocolate, with accents of white and a little red to spice it up. She seemed to favor suedes, silks, and fur. |
| 3542 |
She had exquisite beige silk drapes trimmed in red. Her bedroom and dressing room were on the top floor, with a tiny office she used when she worked at home, which was rare. It was the perfect house for her. There had been a second bedroom on the top floor, which she had turned into a closet when she moved in. |
| 3543 |
Sir Winston was sleeping and never stirred. Fiona gently patted him, and he finally picked up his head with considerable effort and a groan and stared at them, and a moment later, he dropped his head back on the bed again with a sigh, and closed his eyes. He made no attempt to introduce himself to John. |
| 3544 |
Everything about Fiona and her surroundings was exotic, from her half naked Pakistani house man to her friends, and in some ways even her house and dog, although they were slightly more traditional, but not much. There was very little traditional about her, or predictable, and she liked it that way. |
| 3545 |
He looked totally bowled over by her, but who wouldn't be, Adrian commented to a photographer who had noticed it too, and said they made a handsome though unlikely pair. They both knew that Fiona hadn't been involved with anyone in nearly two years, and if this was what she wanted, they were glad for her. |
| 3546 |
She hadn't said anything to Adrian yet, but he knew she would before long, if there was anything to it. He had a feeling they were going to be seeing a lot of John Anderson, and he hoped so for Fiona's sake, if that was what and whom she wanted, for however long. They both knew that forever after wasn't in her plans. |
| 3547 |
Adrian always thought it was unfortunate that she was alone, although she claimed that she preferred it that way. He never quite believed her, and suspected she was lonely at times, which explained her excessive attachment to her ridiculous old dog. In truth, when she came home at night, Fiona had no one else. |
| 3548 |
Just knowing her father had abandoned her, and after the evil stepfathers she'd seen come and go, Fiona had made a decision years ago never to fully trust any man. And Adrian knew that if she didn't break down her walls one day, she would in fact wind up alone. It seemed a reasonable fate to her, but not to him. |
| 3549 |
She said she had a million things to do, and when he asked her to dinner, she said she didn't have time to see him before she left, which was relatively true. She could have changed some plans for him, but she didn't think that was a smart move. She was trying her best to resist her overwhelming attraction to him. |
| 3550 |
Emotional involvements were always dangerous, and she was leery of them. And if anything was going to happen, she wanted it to go slow, to give her time to think. She was in no hurry to rush into anything with him, no matter how appealing he was. And there was no denying he was very appealing. Maybe even too much so. |
| 3551 |
If she thought about it too much otherwise, she knew she'd get too scared. This was almost threatening. She was much too attracted to him. But on the other hand, he seemed like an incredibly nice man. He had no obvious defects, no visible character flaws, no bad reputation from all she'd heard. He was a good man. |
| 3552 |
But most of the time it's a lot of fun. And if you've never seen the couture shows, they're a real spectacle, and the parties are fabulous. Everyone goes all out for the haute couture. It's like an art form in France, even cabdrivers know about it, and talk about the shows as though they've seen them. |
| 3553 |
It was fun to step outside the confines of his safe, familiar world. And into her far more exotic one. It promised to be a real adventure for him. And maybe even for her too. Although Fiona seemed to vacillate between being warm and impersonal with him, which was a manifestation of her own ambivalence toward him. |
| 3554 |
She didn't want him to think that she was chasing him, or too available. They both needed time to think about what they were doing before they did it, no matter how tempting it was. That was all the more reason to move cautiously, and she had every intention of doing that, particularly if he was coming to Paris. |
| 3555 |
She was mildly sorry she had decided not to see him before she left. It might have been easier than seeing him again in Paris, for the first time since her dinner party. It felt a little weird that they hadn't had a date yet, and he was meeting her in Paris, but they would have plenty to keep them occupied. |
| 3556 |
He particularly liked the thought of lying around, sleeping on her bed, minus the snores. "He's a lucky guy," John said cryptically, and they discussed last details of the trip to Paris, and what sort of clothes he should bring. She told him then that nothing planned was black tie, but he needed a couple of dark suits. |
| 3557 |
They weren't going to lack for entertainment and social life. And the party Chic gave at the Ritz was always fun. Adrian was in charge of organizing it and inviting the guests. He always invited every movie star, singer, designer, celebrity socialite, and royal he could lay his hands on. People begged to come. |
| 3558 |
But they were both tired on their first evening, and happy to share a huge platter of oysters, and a salad, and go back to the hotel. They both knew that by the next day everyone would be in high gear and moving at full speed. The first show would be that night, and John was arriving from London in the late afternoon. |
| 3559 |
Adrian had already teased her about it, and she had brushed him off, they had plenty of other things to talk about. The clothes they were going to be seeing, some of which Fiona had previewed that day, were for the winter season, and they were going to be fabulous if the samples she'd seen were any indication. |
| 3560 |
There was a luminous glow to the night sky that fascinated her, almost like a large black pearl. She loved lying in bed and looking at it until she fell asleep. Fiona's second day in Paris was even busier than the day before, and John had already arrived by the time she got back to the hotel late that afternoon. |
| 3561 |
Most men would have had their fill, and then some, after a day or two, and he didn't look the type to linger long in a woman's world. She could never get enough of it, and it was her business. John was just a tourist. "I'm here for the duration, if you want me," he announced gamely, which was news to her. |
| 3562 |
That's what the invitation says. If we're lucky, they'll start at nine. Dior is always a zoo, they never start on schedule, they're always late. They'll still be sewing beads on dresses and finishing hems at seven, but it's the best show. And they do it in crazy locations they announce at the last minute. |
| 3563 |
And each model was exquisite, as one by one they stepped off the train. The clothes were beaded, colorful, exotic, with long sweeping painted taffeta skirts, or lace leggings covered with beads, extraordinary intricately beaded bustiers, or some stepped off the train with their breasts bare, as John tried not to stare. |
| 3564 |
And all the while, Fiona sat watching the girls file past with an unreadable expression, which was part of her mystique. She had a well trained poker face that allowed no one to guess if she approved of the clothes or not. She would let the world know what she thought when she was ready to and not before. |
| 3565 |
The evening gowns that came toward the end of the show were equally fabulous and unique. He couldn't imagine any of the women he knew wearing these creations to the opening of the Met, or any of the events he went to, but he loved watching them, and seeing all the drama and spectacle that surrounded the models. |
| 3566 |
And at the instant the model stepped off the train, John Galliano appeared on a white elephant, wearing a loincloth, and an identical breastplate himself. And half a dozen of the painted warriors lifted the bride up to him, and sat her behind him on the elephant, as they both waved and were led away. |
| 3567 |
And she was obviously enjoying being with him. As the crowd began to thin, they made their way toward the exits. They were going back to the hotel for a drink, and eventually they were going to a public swimming pool for the party hosted by Dior. But Fiona said there was no point going before midnight. |
| 3568 |
It was an incredible evening, but John was grateful when they left in less than an hour. Fiona had done her duty and was satisfied to leave, as they both leaned back against the seat in the limousine, relieved to have escaped the noise. "My God, that was quite a scene," he said, unable to find words to comment on it. |
| 3569 |
But not one he could have tolerated easily day to day. His own life seemed half dead and incredibly mundane compared with hers, although he ran one of the largest ad agencies in the world. But even his world seemed tame compared to hers. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like being married to her. |
| 3570 |
It was the antithesis of the way he'd lived, with a long marriage, a wife he had loved, and two kids. And even though he'd been devastated when Ann died, he thought the years they'd shared before were well worth it. When he went, he wanted to be mourned by more than a dog. But Fiona didn't. She was very clear about it. |
| 3571 |
She had seen her mother's pain each time a man left her life, and felt her own when her two long term relationships had ended. She could only imagine that marriage, and losing a spouse, would be far worse, perhaps even unbearable. It was easier, in her mind at least, not to have one in the first place. |
| 3572 |
She seemed perfectly content with her existence, and made no bones about it. Once back in the Ritz, they walked past the vitrines full of expensive items of jewelry and clothing, as he took her to the elevator on the Cambon side. Their rooms were on the third floor, and his was just down the hall from hers. |
| 3573 |
They put it on a heavy brass ring, and she always took the key off and left the brass part on the desk in her room. It was too heavy to drag around in her bag. John waited politely until she found it, inserted it in the electronic lock, and the door opened as she turned to thank him for coming to Paris with her. |
| 3574 |
Or rather, from train station to pool. "Do you have time for breakfast tomorrow morning, or will you be too busy?" he asked, as she noticed that he looked as impeccably groomed as he had at the beginning of the evening. And it was already two o'clock in the morning. It had been a long night, but a good one. |
| 3575 |
They lingered for a moment, sensing each other more than saying anything, and then he gently kissed her on the forehead and walked to his own room with a wave. Fiona felt haunted by him as she walked into her own room. He was damnably attractive, responsible and normal, sensible and so undeniably all male. |
| 3576 |
She had made that decision in the course of the evening. He was handsome as hell, and she was physically attracted to him, but she was wise enough to know that they were just too different. She wasn't a kid anymore, after all, and some gifts, no matter how alluring they were, were better left wrapped and unopened. |
| 3577 |
Her teeth were brushed, her hair was combed, and she told John she had been on the phone since seven o'clock that morning. She and Adrian had discussed the Dior show from the day before, and were in complete agreement as to which were the most important pieces. They were both going to Lacroix that morning. |
| 3578 |
He was lost in thought, and gave a start when she touched his shoulder. He had been a million miles away, and thinking of her. "Don't you look elegant," he said admiringly. She was wearing a black and white summer linen pantsuit that had been given to her the year before as a gift from Balmain, and it suited her well. |
| 3579 |
There were designers and socialites and bankers, and as they ordered coffee, Fiona chatted amiably with a Russian prince at the next table. She knew everyone, and more important, they all knew her. They both went back to the hotel to make phone calls to New York after lunch, and met up again at four thirty. |
| 3580 |
They were on their way to see Givenchy, which turned out to be slightly outrageous, and although she said she liked some of the pieces, she was disappointed in it from a professional point of view. After that they came back to the Ritz for the Chic magazine cocktail party, which Adrian had in total control. |
| 3581 |
Then they stopped at the Hemingway Bar at the hotel for a last drink. John had brandy and she had mineral water, and she realized in amazement that it was two thirty in the morning by the time they left the bar and went upstairs. Things always started late in Paris, and as a result, the nights got late. |
| 3582 |
It was a lot easier, he realized, going to an office and having sedate dinners out a couple of times a week. He couldn't even begin to think of all the things they had done and seen in two days. And she didn't even look tired as she fumbled in her bag for her key. "Yes, it's always pretty hectic." She smiled at him. |
| 3583 |
It had been a memorable two days with her, and without thinking, he leaned slowly toward her, and the next thing he knew, he was holding her and kissing her in the doorway of her suite. They stood there for a long time, and the thought crossed John's mind that Adrian might happen by on the way to his room. |
| 3584 |
Unlike the other shows, Chanel started punctually, and the clothes were respectable and terrific. They played Mozart as the models made their way sedately down the designated path through the seats. Every aspect of the show was about elegance and tradition. It was like visiting a grande dame for tea. |
| 3585 |
Karl Lagerfeld had designed a collection that knocked everyone off their feet. The wedding gown at the end was every bit as spectacular as Adrian had told her it would be. The velvet gown with the ermine cape caused everyone to catch their breath, and Lagerfeld himself got a standing ovation when he appeared. |
| 3586 |
She was like a beautiful animal in the wild, running free, but so unforgettably beautiful and enticing when she stopped to look at you. He was head over heels in love with her and had only known her for a matter of weeks. Fiona was astounded by it, and it amazed him too. She was just as crazy about him. |
| 3587 |
More than she had wanted anything in years. She had never known anyone like him either. Strong, solid, sensible, warm, affectionate, intelligent, kind, reasonable, and he seemed perfectly able to tolerate the occasional insanity of her career, even during couture week. He liked Adrian, who was a mainstay in her life. |
| 3588 |
She was not entirely certain of the future of the relationship between him and Sir Winston, but that could be worked on. The rest seemed perfect, although she knew nothing was, and this couldn't be. But it sure looked it. He seemed to be everything she had ever wanted all rolled into one human being. |
| 3589 |
That night, she took him to her favorite bistro. It was as noisy and crowded as she had warned him it would be, and after walking for a while, they went back to the hotel, and were content to fall into bed in each other's arms. They fell asleep this time almost as soon as their heads hit the pillow. |
| 3590 |
The next morning when they saw the boat, they were both awestruck by her beauty. They spent the day sailing her with a crew of nine, spent the night in the port in Monte Carlo, and had a quiet romantic dinner on the aft deck, drinking champagne and reveling in the joy of being together in glorious surroundings. |
| 3591 |
And after spending Labor Day weekend with him, both his girls were going back to college, although he saw them regularly throughout the school year. Courtenay came home often for weekends since she was only in Princeton. Hilary did her best to come home from Brown once a month, except when she had exams. |
| 3592 |
His girls needed adult female companionship, since both of them missed their mother so much. Fiona had already said that she was going to go shopping with them. She didn't know much about kids and young people, but shopping was one thing she was good at, and she thought it would be an easy way to get to know his girls. |
| 3593 |
Failing that, he could always charter another boat, which appealed to both of them as well. The possibilities were infinite, but she had another plan in mind. They had gone straight from dating and first blush to wanting to be together all the time. He had already said as much to her himself in St. Tropez. |
| 3594 |
But he was unfailingly polite and easygoing, and she loved that about him. He didn't seem to have a temper, and had a happy disposition. They went straight to her house that night. Jamal had left it immaculate for her, and filled the house with flowers. And the refrigerator was full of everything she liked to eat. |
| 3595 |
Men had spent the night from time to time over the years, and the conductor had lived with her, but he hadn't seen anyone at the house in the morning in a very long time. He didn't know if this was a temporary fling for her, or someone who was going to stick around. Her next words to him spelled it out. |
| 3596 |
Presto magic, she was living with a man in her house. For the summer at least. Until his daughters and housekeeper came back. Once the girls left for school again, she assumed he would move back in with her again, as long as they both liked it. And she hoped they would. She hoped so with all her heart. |
| 3597 |
He brought her up to date on all the follow up from Paris. She had a general staff meeting set for eleven o'clock, which, as it turned out, went till two. She spent the rest of the afternoon catching up, looking at shots of the couture, and checking on schedules and details for shoots. They were insanely busy. |
| 3598 |
And she had freed up two drawers. It didn't look like much, but it had taken her two hours to do it. John had called at seven and explained that he had gotten held up at the office, he hadn't gotten to the apartment yet, and hoped to be home by nine. And if she wanted him to, he would bring pizza and wine. |
| 3599 |
She finally managed to part with a couple of ski parkas she rarely used, and the big down coat she wore when it snowed. They took up a lot of room, but translated into closet space, she suspected it would give him room for only two or three more suits. Closet space seemed to be harder to find than gold. |
| 3600 |
He was carrying armloads of clothes, which he dragged out of a cab, with two shopping bags full of belts, ties, underwear, and socks. He looked as if he were moving in, and for a fraction of a second, her heart gave a flutter. And then she instantly remembered how lucky she was and how much she loved him. |
| 3601 |
He walked into the bathroom, while Fiona hung up his clothes, and when he came back out twenty minutes later, he felt human again, and clean, and all his things were put away. Fiona showed him his two drawers. He felt like a kid at camp, or his first day in boarding school, learning where his locker was. |
| 3602 |
All he wanted was to be with her. And then she showed him where she had hung his suits and shirts. They were nicely squeezed in to the left of hers, without a centimeter of spare room, but they fit. He stared at them for a moment, wondering why she hadn't made more room, but decided not to say anything. |
| 3603 |
There was some sort of gown with feathers on it draped over one of his dark suits. "Not a lot of room, is there," he commented, and she hated to admit it, but the closet seemed to have shrunk since that afternoon. She had been so proud of the space she'd made for him, and now it didn't seem like enough. |
| 3604 |
He turned on the TV, and lay on the bed, as Sir Winston lifted his head, looked at him in despair, and appeared to collapse deeper into the bed. But at least he didn't growl. John wasn't sure he could sleep with the noise he made, but he was willing to try, and he was so tired that night, it actually didn't bother him. |
| 3605 |
That was all he wanted. And when he awoke the next morning, Fiona had orange juice and coffee waiting for him, handed him the newspaper, and made him scrambled eggs. The dog was already outside. All was well in their little world. Their first night had gone well. Fiona was enormously relieved as she left for work. |
| 3606 |
She was going to have to dump her things on the bed. It was a small price to pay. And the following day, true to her word, she did. She took out all her leather skirts and pants, and laid them gingerly on the guest room bed. It at least gave him room for some more suits and shirts. He seemed to have a lot. |
| 3607 |
The following weekend they went out to the Hamptons, and much to her delight, for the entire month of August, he chartered a boat. It wasn't as big as the one they'd had in St. Tropez, but it was a beautiful sailboat nonetheless, and they had a great time with it. Adrian even sailed on it with them one weekend. |
| 3608 |
John thought it a terrific plan. He wanted the four of them to have dinner that week, so Fiona could get to know the girls before they went back to college. They were going to be in town for only a few days. And after that he and Fiona had to figure out what they were going to do about their living arrangements. |
| 3609 |
She didn't really have room for him, although he was happy staying with her, but her closets were a nightmare, and she couldn't seem to find space for him. But he also felt a little odd bringing her into the apartment where he had lived with Ann. And he wasn't sure how the girls would feel about it either. |
| 3610 |
She had been relentlessly busy all month, and it was going to be nice to just stay home and chill out. She and Adrian went to a movie one night. And the next night she took her old mentor to dinner. It was nice to have some free time on her hands. She had less of it now that she was unofficially living with John. |
| 3611 |
He had never seen her look like that in all the years they had been friends. Fiona was never afraid of anything, and surely not two young girls. She had never even been afraid of men. But that was also because she never cared if she lost them. Until now, she had always been just as happy to be alone. |
| 3612 |
At least she spoke to John twice between meetings, and he sounded more normal again. She admitted to him that she was nervous about dinner, and he reassured her and told her he loved her. After that, she was less worried. It was just the newness of it all, and she had never had to meet anyone's kids, nor cared so much. |
| 3613 |
He told her not to worry about it, but he sounded strained and annoyed. And when she got to the apartment, she saw why. The apartment itself was large and handsomely decorated, but everything about it seemed cold and uptight. And on literally every surface there were framed photographs of his late wife. |
| 3614 |
The living room looked like a shrine to her, and there was an enormous portrait of her on one wall, and on either side of it were portraits of the two girls. They had had them done just before she died. She was a pretty woman, and she had the look of a debutante who had grown up to be head of the Junior League. |
| 3615 |
As Fiona walked across the living room, she saw two stern looking young women sitting rigidly on the couch. They looked as though they had been forced there at gunpoint, and they nearly had. She'd seen happier looking people in hostage situations, and they glared at her without remorse. Neither of them said a word. |
| 3616 |
He hadn't expected this reaction from his children, he was sorely disappointed in them, and deeply hurt. He had been loyal and faithful to their mother and her memory, he had done everything he could to save her, and stood by her till the end. And he had been there for his daughters, without reservation, ever since. |
| 3617 |
But they had said they hated him and Fiona anyway, and cried all weekend. And so had he. Now he was running out of patience, and getting angry at them for being so unreasonable. Hilary was ignoring Fiona entirely. She was the prettier of the two, although they were almost identical and looked like twins. |
| 3618 |
John waited for the girls to stand up, and followed them into the dining room. It was definitely not going to be an easy dinner, and Fiona felt desperately sorry for him. He was doing all he could to keep the ship afloat. But she felt as though they were having dinner on the Titanic, and were going down fast. |
| 3619 |
She was determined to be there for him, and was trying to give him all the strength she could. And as she looked at him lovingly, Mrs. Westerman walked into the dining room and slammed dinner on the table. The roast beef was dry and charred beyond all recognition, and the potatoes around it had been burned to a crisp. |
| 3620 |
She had pledged her allegiance to the girls when they came home from San Francisco the night before and told her what had happened over the summer while they were all gone, and she was outraged and said that everything their father was doing, whatever it was, was a sin. And she didn't want to work for a sinner. |
| 3621 |
She had told John the same thing when he got home from the office that night. Like the girls, she was punishing him. Fiona knew she had been with the family since Hilary was born, twenty one years, and she was going to do everything she could to make life difficult for him. It was not only unfair, it was sick. |
| 3622 |
Fifi paused in the doorway, growling as she looked at them, and seeing Fiona and John with their arms around each other, it was hard to say if she thought Fiona was attacking him, but without pausing for breath, she flew straight out of the kitchen like a heat seeking missile, and landed at Fiona's feet. |
| 3623 |
But her ankle wouldn't stop bleeding, as John put pressure on the wound, and then looked at her miserably as he helped her hobble into the kitchen, and shouted a warning to Mrs. Westerman to lock up the dog. But she had already retreated to her room with Fifi. They could hear the dog barking furiously through the door. |
| 3624 |
All John wanted to do was get the hell out, and go home with Fiona, but he knew he had to stay till the girls went back to school at least. He had never been through anything like this. He studied her ankle, as she sat on the kitchen counter, with her foot in the sink, and he looked at her with embarrassment and grief. |
| 3625 |
It had already soaked through by the time they hailed a cab, and blood was dripping down her foot as John carried her into the hospital and deposited her in the emergency room with a look of disbelief. When the doctor on duty examined her finally, he said it was a deep wound, and she needed stitches. |
| 3626 |
He administered a local anesthetic and sewed her up, gave her a tetanus shot, since she hadn't had one in years, and then gave her antibiotics and painkillers to take home with her. She was looking a little green around the gills by then. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, and it had been a rough evening. |
| 3627 |
After a night like that, he could only have come to a single conclusion, that having Fiona in his life was just too difficult for him. She sat stoically while he gathered his thoughts and looked at the woman he had fallen in love with in Paris, or even before that. It had been love at first sight for him. |
| 3628 |
Everything seemed to be moving very quickly. Everything continued to go smoothly until Thanksgiving. Inevitably, the issue of the holidays came up, and John and his daughters got in a huge battle over whether or not Fiona would be allowed to join them. Both girls threatened not to come home if she was there. |
| 3629 |
And John had a solemn, lonely Thanksgiving with his two daughters, and the stern faced housekeeper grimly serving dinner. The meal was anything but happy. And as he and Ann had both been only children, and had lost their parents when they were young, they had no other relatives to share it with them. |
| 3630 |
And at the end of the silent meal, John confronted them and told them that he was tired of their punishing him not only for their mother's death, but also for his relationship with Fiona. "I'm not going to let you do this," he said sternly, as both girls cried and told him they didn't want him to forget their mother. |
| 3631 |
It sounded like a good plan to them. They liked the idea of getting rid of her in six months. At least they wouldn't be stuck with her forever, and they'd have their father to themselves again. It was all they wanted. If their mother wasn't alive, they didn't want anyone else to take her place. Ever. |
| 3632 |
They were already in college. It wouldn't be long now. And if she kept him from marrying that woman, at least she would have done her duty by the late Mrs. Anderson. She had made her that promise after she died, that she would keep him from defiling her memory, or doing anything foolish. She owed her that much. |
| 3633 |
And she was going to do whatever it took to protect her. Ann Anderson had been such a good woman. And that other woman, the one he was chasing after and sleeping with and making a fool of himself with, well, whoever and whatever he thought she was, as far as Mrs. Westerman was concerned, she was no one. |
| 3634 |
And when people dropped by, as they had for years, she suggested that they call her first in future. She staged no shoots in the house, didn't let it out as a backdrop, as she had before, and no longer allowed photographers from out of town to stay there. She was, if nothing else, trying to be respectful of John. |
| 3635 |
She had never gone to his apartment again. She found it depressing anyway. He only went there when one of his daughters came to town for the weekend, which was seldom. They were busy at school. And they never mentioned Fiona, nor did he. But he still thought it was a miserable situation, and wanted to change it. |
| 3636 |
They stayed in a lovely old French hotel, and it was wonderful being there, with the heat and the sun and the good weather. It was yet another perfect vacation, and it only served to strengthen his resolve, and give him courage. He didn't want to rock the boat, but he also wanted to know that the boat was his now. |
| 3637 |
Even the situation with his daughters would be worse if they got married, and become more important. Now it was his problem, married it would be hers as well. This way she could sympathize with him, and just ignore it. If she married him, she'd have to own it. "I like being married," he said honestly. |
| 3638 |
She had never looked as beautiful as when they exchanged their vows in the tiny church, and he put a simple gold ring on her finger. And as she looked up at him, she actually believed, finally, that she belonged to him forever, and he belonged to her. She had never realized how much this would mean to her. |
| 3639 |
To Fiona, it was a promise never to be broken, and she knew that to John it was just as powerful, which was why she had married him. It was a solemn vow they both believed in. And when they went home that afternoon, they just sat there for a while and drank champagne, and then she started to giggle. |
| 3640 |
After they got back to the house, she called Adrian, and John went upstairs to call his daughters. Both calls were predictable. Adrian was beside himself, he was so thrilled, and both girls were nasty to their father. He knew they had hoped to stop him by their antics, and they were horrified to find they hadn't. |
| 3641 |
Mrs. Westerman damn near poisoned her with a curry so spicy it nearly killed her, and much to John's horror and disbelief, she "accidentally" let Fifi out of the kitchen, and the dog made a beeline straight to Fiona's left leg this time, and took a chunk out of her left ankle, instead of the right one. |
| 3642 |
People had quit, the format had changed, the new ad campaign was causing problems and had to be redesigned, which was yet another of John's problems, as well as hers. A photographer had sued the magazine. A supermodel had OD'd on a shoot and damn near died, and attracted a huge amount of negative publicity. |
| 3643 |
The agency was changing hands again, and it was causing him huge problems. And in April, one of his daughters told him she was pregnant, and had an abortion. She blamed him, and said that if he hadn't married Fiona, she wouldn't have been so freaked out, and wouldn't have been careless with the boy she slept with. |
| 3644 |
Jamal had argued with her on the phone, that she had told him not to let John change anything, and she nearly got hysterical screaming at him, and told him to just do what she told him and not make more problems. Jamal called her in tears that night and threatened to quit, and she begged him not to. |
| 3645 |
And suddenly everything was changing. She had two stepdaughters she couldn't stand, and a man who wanted to make his mark in her life, and had a right to. But after a lifetime of doing things her way, and controlling her environment, she felt every change he wanted to make like an assault on her person. |
| 3646 |
It was as though they were constantly at each other's throats these days, arguing and shouting and accusing. Mrs. Westerman had threatened to quit, John was thinking of selling the apartment, and his daughters were outraged. And if he did sell it, Fiona knew his daughters would come to stay at her place. |
| 3647 |
He wanted to do it at Le Cirque, in a private room, and asked Fiona to help. His secretary wasn't good at that sort of thing, and it seemed reasonable to him to ask Fiona to give him a hand. All he wanted her to do was book the room, choose the menu, order the flowers, and help him with the seating. |
| 3648 |
He knew the client fairly well, but had never met his wife, and he trusted Fiona's judgment about the details, and how to seat the party. The client was an extremely dour man from the Midwest, and about as far from Fiona's world as you could get. The first thing Fiona did was insist they have it at her house. |
| 3649 |
And Adrian was out with the flu. She had a massive headache herself by midafternoon, which was threatening to become a migraine. As soon as she got home, she took a pill she found in her medicine cabinet in an unmarked bottle that someone had given her in Europe. It was relatively mild and had worked before. |
| 3650 |
And half an hour before the dinner party, the caterers had everything in order, Jamal was wearing his uniform, the table looked beautiful, and the crystal and glass shone. And when John checked it all out before the guests arrived, he looked relieved and pleased. The table looked like a layout in a magazine. |
| 3651 |
The guest of honor and his wife arrived right on time, in fact they were five minutes early, which Fiona found slightly unnerving. She was just zipping up a plain black dress when the doorbell rang, and John hurried downstairs. She put on high heeled black satin pumps, and a pair of big coral earrings. |
| 3652 |
The rest of the guests took a little of the stiffness out of it as they arrived one by one. There were to be ten guests in all, and with Fiona and John, it made twelve. Jamal passed the first plate of hors d'oeuvres, and everything went fine, just as Fiona felt her headache returning with a vengeance. |
| 3653 |
John's obvious concern over the evening didn't help, and she felt stressed just watching him. He wanted everything to be perfect, and it was. Fiona decided not to take another pill for her headache. She quietly asked Jamal for a glass of champagne instead. And by the time she finished the glass, it seemed to help. |
| 3654 |
She went to put some music on to add some atmosphere, and smiled to herself. She hadn't given a dinner party as proper and restrained as this in years. Or ever. She liked things livelier and more fun, and definitely more exotic. But she wanted to do everything just the way John had asked her to, and she had. |
| 3655 |
He was frowning at her ferociously, and then glancing at Jamal's feet. And then she saw that along with his black trousers with the satin stripe down the side, and the proper black tux jacket, white shirt, and bow tie he had worn, he had added a pair of gold and rhinestone high heels after the party began. |
| 3656 |
Jamal returned wearing different shoes, as he'd been told, but instead of black, he had chosen shocking pink alligator flats. It wasn't what Fiona had had in mind, and everyone in the room noticed it as he passed the hors d'oeuvres. And by the time they sat down to dinner, Fiona was so drunk she could hardly stand up. |
| 3657 |
The seemingly harmless headache pill and the champagne had turned out to be a lethal mix. She had to go upstairs and lie down before dessert. The food was good and the wine was excellent, but Jamal had clearly shocked the Madisons and continued to do so as he served the meal, and chatted amiably with the guests. |
| 3658 |
He was shaking with rage when he called Fiona in the office. She didn't blame him, and she was upset too, but the photographer was one of the most important she dealt with, and she didn't want him to quit, which he did the next day, and flew back to Paris. She had no idea how to fill the gap in the July issue. |
| 3659 |
He doesn't want to lose his kids for you. You have some goofy house man running around half naked, no matter how sweet he is, which embarrasses John. You have a smelly old dog snoring on his bed every night. You have a job that keeps you running around the world constantly. You have weird friends like me. |
| 3660 |
She felt as if he had shut her out, and she felt panicked. Maybe Adrian was right and she had to make some changes quickly. But she felt as though the fates were conspiring against her. They had an emergency on a shoot in London two days later, and they insisted she had to come over. It was a story on the royal family. |
| 3661 |
She had to go. And this time she was gone for two weeks. She only got to speak to John twice while she was away. He always seemed to be too busy to talk to her, and his cell phone was always on voice mail. When she came back, he was still in his apartment. He said he didn't want to stay at her place while she was away. |
| 3662 |
And under Mrs. Westerman's ever evil influence they had been pressuring him, and blackmailing him emotionally to leave her. And with everything so difficult between him and Fiona it provided fertile ground for the forces against them to dig their heels in. It had worked. They had finally won him over. |
| 3663 |
In the end, they had won. She was going to lose the one man she had really loved. Adrian was right. She hadn't compromised enough. She had felt so safe that she had ignored all the warnings. And now he was going to divorce her, in order to please his kids. But she had made more than her share of mistakes too. |
| 3664 |
Fiona did not go to the Hamptons all summer. She stayed at home, nursed her wounds, sat home alone at night, went to the office, and cried often. It was as though all the life had gone out of her, all the joy and excitement and passion. She felt as though she were in a dark tunnel, lost in the darkness. |
| 3665 |
John had shown her all she had ever wanted, and never let herself hope for, and when she failed to understand, he took it all away again. Nothing in her life had ever hurt so much, not even when her mother died, or she lost men later on. The loss of the marriage she had shared with John was the death of hope for her. |
| 3666 |
She didn't deserve either the punishment he meted out to her, nor the abuse she heaped on herself afterward, and nothing anyone could do or say made it right for her again. As she dragged through the summer toward September, she could barely work. And on the Labor Day weekend, in crushing heat, disaster struck again. |
| 3667 |
Sir Winston had a heart attack and was on life support for two weeks. She visited him twice daily, before and after work, stroked his face, kissed his paws, and just sat quietly beside him. And finally, with a snore and a peaceful look at her, he closed his eyes one afternoon and went quietly to sleep for good. |
| 3668 |
It was a peaceful death. And yet one more blow to her. He had been a beloved faithful friend. Two days later, they had a major meeting with their ad agency, and there was no way she could avoid it. She discussed it with Adrian beforehand, and he said she absolutely had to go, no matter how hard it was for her. |
| 3669 |
The clock was running, and the divorce would be final in three months. After such a short marriage, it shouldn't have been the deathblow it was to her, but even Adrian knew now that it was. She had opened places in herself to him that had never seen light and air and love before, and had never known human touch. |
| 3670 |
And when he shut the door on them, and on her, he created wounds that she had been trying to shield herself from all her life. Worse yet, he had reopened every wound she'd ever had, while creating more. It was a blow of total devastation, and there was no way she could sit through a meeting with him. |
| 3671 |
She had no one, and nothing, and the funny, crazy, zany free spirited life she had once loved no longer held any appeal to her. She hated going to work every day, and even more than that she hated coming home. She handed in her resignation to Chic magazine on the first of October, and she knew it was time. |
| 3672 |
She gave them a month's notice, which wasn't long, and in a private letter to the head of the board, she strongly recommended Adrian for her job. She said that she was resigning due to health and personal reasons, and had made a decision to take a year or two off, and move abroad, which wasn't entirely a lie. |
| 3673 |
Two days later he learned that she had recommended him for her job. It was the right decision, and a wise recommendation, and within two weeks of her resignation, Adrian was named editor in chief of Chic magazine, and they told her that within another week, when the dust had settled, she was free to go. |
| 3674 |
Adrian was crying openly as he took the box from her. They both knew that the waters closed rapidly over old editors, and they were soon forgotten, but there was no denying that Fiona Monaghan had made her mark, and she had trained him well. They had wanted to give her a party when she left, but she had declined it. |
| 3675 |
She had rented a small room at the Ritz, at a discount they'd offered her, till she found an apartment. Thanks to wise investments over the years, she was in good shape, and wouldn't have to work for a long time. She was going to find an apartment and, if she felt up to it, write a book. Maybe in the spring. |
| 3676 |
The future was unknown and didn't look hopeful to her. And the present was intolerably painful. Adrian came, as promised, the next morning. It took them all day to empty her closets into wardrobe boxes. She was amazed at what she found there, and at the mountain of once meaningful out of date treasures she gave away. |
| 3677 |
Adrian came back to help her again on Sunday. And she spent the rest of the following week disposing of her things. In honor of her own sense of the ridiculous, she left for Paris on Halloween. Adrian took her to the airport, and they stood looking at each other for a long moment before she went through security. |
| 3678 |
In a matter of months, she had lost everything, and now she was here, not sure what to do next. The winter in Paris was rainy and gray, but it suited her mood, and she was glad she was there. She didn't need to talk to anyone, or see anyone. In fact, she didn't want to. She was steeped in her own solitude and grief. |
| 3679 |
The things she had used as substitutes for real relationships, the job that had meant so much to her that it had obscured all else, the sacrifices she'd been willing to make, the children she'd never had. The pursuit of perfection, and driving herself. Even the dog who had become a substitute child. |
| 3680 |
But even in the rain, the apartment was beautiful. The house it was in was behind another building, on a cobbled courtyard, with a small meticulously kept garden. A couple who now lived in Hong Kong owned the house and were never there. They didn't have the heart to sell it and it was easy to see why. |
| 3681 |
It was just big enough for her and no one else. And there was a studio in the attic where she could write. She rented it on the spot, and they said she could move in right away. It was simply furnished with some antiques and a big canopied bed. It had lovely moldings and three hundred year old wood floors. |
| 3682 |
She hoped it would be by spring at the rate she was going. But it didn't matter how long it took. She didn't even know if she would publish it, but writing it was doing her good. As she signed the lease the next day, and wrote a check, she realized that it would have been her first wedding anniversary. |
| 3683 |
He was still worried about her, with good reason. She was drifting loose, and the more she drank, the more she talked about John that night, about forgiving him for what he'd done, and running out on her, that she understood and it was all right, and it didn't matter, and he'd been right, she'd been terrible to him. |
| 3684 |
Her life seemed so empty to him now, so unpopulated except for the characters in her book. And more than anything, he knew, she needed to forgive herself, and he wondered if she ever would, or if she would be haunted forever by the ghosts of what could have been. It still broke his heart to see her that way. |
| 3685 |
Their life may have been chaotic, but she was a hell of a good woman. Adrian thought John had been a fool for leaving her, and running out of patience so soon. Adrian hated to leave her, when he left Paris at the end of the week. She was moving into her apartment the next day, but he couldn't stay to help her. |
| 3686 |
She never went anywhere, so she didn't need reservations, but they got things for her, mailed her letters and packages, had pages xeroxed, bought books she needed for research, and were always pleasant when she stopped at the desk to talk to them. It was lonely in the apartment at first. She had no one to talk to. |
| 3687 |
She had to get dressed and go out, even if it was only in jeans and an old sweater. There was a bistro around the corner where she ate once in a while, or had coffee, and a grocery store a few blocks away where she stocked up on food. Sometimes she holed up in the apartment until she ran out of cigarettes and food. |
| 3688 |
She had led a solitary life in Paris for more than six months, but she realized now that it had done her good. She felt more like herself again when Adrian came back in June, and he was relieved to see her looking so well. She had gained a little weight, and was smoking like a chimney, but her color was good. |
| 3689 |
He always had a critical eye about her, and she was still his dearest friend, even though she was living so far away. He liked what she told him about the book. She was willing to go to Le Voltaire with him this time, and she was fine about it when they ran into another magazine editor. She had nothing to hide now. |
| 3690 |
She seemed a lot more relaxed and more philosophical in many ways, and she said she enjoyed cleaning the apartment herself. But the one thing that worried him was that she was leading a lonely life, and she had isolated herself. At forty four, she was still too young to shut herself out of the world. |
| 3691 |
It was obvious that he had hit a nerve. There were a lot of places she didn't want to go, or be anymore. She said she had no interest in them. But they both knew they just hurt too much. He lingered for a few days after the couture shows to visit with her, and when he left Paris in early July, she got back to work. |
| 3692 |
They talked on the phone frequently, but it was better being face to face, and they had lunch at Le Voltaire almost every day. She cooked dinner for him in her apartment once, and they sat on her terrace eating cheese and drinking wine. He had to admit, she hadn't chosen a bad life, and in a way he envied her. |
| 3693 |
She was going to put it on the market while she was in town, and she was going to offer it to her tenants first. If they could make a deal, it would save them both real estate agents' fees, which might be good for both of them, and they loved the house. She had made a decision not to come back to New York to live. |
| 3694 |
And as soon as she got back, she was going to start another book. She had already started the outline, and she worked on it some more on the plane. Fiona met Adrian at the magazine, and it felt strange to her, like visiting a childhood home where other people now lived. And it was even stranger, visiting her house. |
| 3695 |
They settled on a mutually agreeable price within two days, avoided the agents' fees, and the trip had been worthwhile if only for that. She and Adrian spent nights in his apartment, and she went to meet the literary agents she'd lined up. She strongly disliked two of them, but the third one she saw seemed just right. |
| 3696 |
She told him what the book was about, and he liked it. She left a manuscript with him, and she felt as though she were leaving her baby with strangers. She was a nervous wreck when she went back to Adrian's apartment that night. She had stayed with the agent for hours, and Adrian had dinner waiting for her. |
| 3697 |
He knew how stressful it was for her meeting with agents about her book. "What if he hates it?" she said, looking anxious. She had worn a white turtleneck and gray slacks, with gray satin loafers and her signature turquoise bracelet on her wrist. She hadn't even noticed it, but the agent had been very taken with her. |
| 3698 |
She got a little drunk as they sat there, which was rare for her. And by the next morning, she had convinced herself that the agent would reject it, and was steeling herself to stick the manuscript in a drawer somewhere. She was already concentrating on the new book. The phone rang at Adrian's late that afternoon. |
| 3699 |
They were trying to connect for dinner that night, although he was even busier than she had been when she had his job. The only difference was that he didn't give parties, and never let photographers or models stay with him. But he had admitted to her a year before, when she left, that he had hired Jamal. |
| 3700 |
Adrian had put him in a uniform, black pants and a white shirt, with a little white jacket he wore and a tie on the rare times when Adrian entertained. And Adrian said Jamal wasn't nearly as happy with him, because he couldn't get castoffs from him, his shoes were too big. But Jamal seemed very happy in his new job. |
| 3701 |
But much to her surprise, the voice asked for her. It was Andrew Page, the literary agent she had seen the day before. He gave her the news fast and quick. He knew how anxious new authors were, and he told her almost instantly that he loved the book, it was one of the best first novels he had read in years. |
| 3702 |
She was wearing her hair down, and it shone like burnished copper, and in honor of her new career as a soon to be author, she had even deigned to wear makeup. The dress was short and showed off her legs, and she was wearing astonishingly high Manolo Blahnik sandals with ankle straps that nearly made Jamal drool. |
| 3703 |
She noticed that the woman with him was very respectable looking and very blond. She looked almost as though she could have been his late wife's twin. And she was the head of the local Junior League. They had been dating for six months, and had the comfortable air of people who knew each other well. |
| 3704 |
She suddenly wanted to tell him about her book and her new agent, but it seemed a little foolish doing so, so she refrained. "How've you been?" he asked, as though they had been old tennis partners that had drifted out of sight in the last year, or as though the only contact they had ever had was through their work. |
| 3705 |
As luck would have it, it took him another half an hour to get there, and she was ready to have a nervous breakdown by the time he arrived, although she looked sophisticated, poised, and cool, as she made some notes on a pad, and never even glanced at John. She forced herself to look at ease and unconcerned. |
| 3706 |
So I told you I thought you should adjust to him. But I think he is a chickenshit sonofabitch for throwing in the towel and walking out in a matter of months. You should have done a lot of things differently, and could have if you wanted to, like empty your closets for him, and keep the chaos to a minimum. |
| 3707 |
He damn near destroyed your life, for chrissake. First he talks you into marrying him, and then he dumps you, because you have a crazy house man, too many clothes in your closets, and his kids are two raving bitches. A lot of that, maybe even most of it, wasn't your fault. I think you were just too much for him, Fiona. |
| 3708 |
She was complaining about her twenty year old daughter and fourteen year old son. She was a widow, and had been nagging John to spend time with them, and he was hesitant to do so. He didn't want to mislead her kids, and he was not yet sure how committed he was to their mother. It had taken him time to get over Fiona. |
| 3709 |
The apartment she was in suited her, but she wanted something permanent. Fiona knew for sure now that she was not moving back to New York. It was hard to believe she had been gone a year. And she was relieved to find that she no longer missed her job. She had at first, but she was feeling encouraged about her writing. |
| 3710 |
It was fulfilling a dream for her. Even though other dreams had died. Within a week of her return, Fiona had seen two houses she didn't like, and started her new book. She was off and running, and by Thanksgiving, she had made a good start. They had heard from the editor by then, who had declined her book. |
| 3711 |
And he'd be back again in January for the haute couture. She loved knowing she was going to see him twice in the next two months. He was still the best friend she had. She wished him luck with his dinner, wished him a Happy Thanksgiving, got nostalgic for a minute, and then reminded herself that there was no point. |
| 3712 |
And Elizabeth had mentioned her several times. She was a fearsome opponent, and a tough act to follow. Fiona stood staring at herself in the mirror after she hung up. She was sorry she had agreed to meet him. She was tired, her hair was dirty, and she had dark circles under her eyes from writing into the wee hours. |
| 3713 |
She didn't know why she'd agreed to meet him. She had worn her hair in a single long braid down her back. She had no idea how beautiful she looked when she walked in, slightly breathless, with a halo of soft hair that had gotten loose and framed her face, and the big green eyes he still thought of often. |
| 3714 |
They settled on the shaved mushroom salad she always had, and she was torn between liver and blood sausage as he made a terrible face and she laughed. "That's a hell of a thing to eat on Thanksgiving. You should at least have some kind of bird." In the end she decided on veal, and he had the steak tartare. |
| 3715 |
It was so typical of Fiona to have found it. And the house she lived in was as cute as she had said. She used her key and the code, turned off the alarm, and he followed her up the slightly crooked stairs, and a moment later they were in her apartment, and as he had suspected, it was lovely, and beautifully decorated. |
| 3716 |
She still dazzled him in just the way she once had, perhaps more so now that she seemed to have grown up. He liked who she had become, although at great price. But he felt less guilty now than he had before. He somehow felt as though they had both landed in a better place. And he loved the apartment where she lived. |
| 3717 |
He called her that night, but she didn't answer her phone. He suspected she was there, when he spoke to the machine. She was listening to him, and wondering why he had called. He thanked her for letting him come up to see her place. And the next day, wanting only to be polite, she called and thanked him for lunch. |
| 3718 |
He suddenly missed her more than he had in the past year, and he had the ghastly feeling that he had let a priceless diamond slip through his fingers. He had, and in her own way so had she. But she was willing to live with the loss. She had adjusted to it, and she had no desire to reopen old wounds. |
| 3719 |
He had a business meeting to go to then, and couldn't linger on the phone with her. He promised to call her later, but before he did, an enormous bouquet arrived for her from Lachaume. It was the most spectacular thing she had ever seen, and it embarrassed and worried her. She didn't want to start something with him. |
| 3720 |
Reluctantly, she buzzed him in and went to open her front door. He was standing there with some kind of box in a paper bag. "You shouldn't be doing this," she said, frowning at him, and trying to look stern. It was a look that had terrified junior editors for years, but he knew her better, and it didn't scare him. |
| 3721 |
He was like a man on a mission, or a quest. And she didn't want to be his prize. "Do you want some?" she asked, putting the profiteroles on a plate. In spite of her reservations, she couldn't resist what he'd brought, and handed him a spoon as she sat down at her kitchen table, and he sat down next to her. |
| 3722 |
Five minutes later, they were back in her bed again and stayed there for the next two hours. He got out of bed at noon regretfully. He had to shower, shave, dress, and pick his things up at the Crillon. He had sent his driver away the night before, and told him he would take a cab back to the hotel. |
| 3723 |
He kissed her one last time before he left, and then hurried down the stairs and across the courtyard, while she stood watching him for the last time. And after he left, she crawled into her bed again, and stayed there all day. At nightfall, she was still lying there, crying, and thinking about him. |
| 3724 |
He had called her a dozen times since he'd left. But she didn't take the calls, nor return them. She wasn't going to speak to him again. She had meant what she told him. It was over. Their night together had been a brief reprieve from a life separate from each other. And in every possible way, it had made it harder. |
| 3725 |
Which made her all the more determined not to speak to him, or see him. She had never loved anyone as she had him, and she didn't want to go through the pain again, especially with him. She loved him too much to try again. And she knew that eventually he'd stop calling. It took her nearly a week to get back to work. |
| 3726 |
She tried to work, and couldn't. It was like detoxing from a highly addictive drug. She not only pined for him and longed for him, she craved him. All of which proved to her how dangerous he was for her. John had been gone for a week when Andrew Page called and told her the second publisher wanted to buy her book. |
| 3727 |
Not only that, they were offering her a three book contract. It was the first and only good news she'd had since John left, and after she hung up, she realized that even that hadn't cheered her. She felt almost as miserable as she had when he divorced her. And in the last two days, he had finally stopped calling. |
| 3728 |
She went out to buy groceries that afternoon, which seemed stupid to her since she wasn't eating anyway, but she needed cigarettes and coffee. And as she walked into her courtyard carrying the bags, she heard a footstep behind her. She turned to see who had followed her, and saw John standing there, looking at her. |
| 3729 |
She hadn't done it perfectly either. And he was willing to trust her. The only thing she was sure of now was that she loved him. She didn't say a word to him, she just turned and walked up the steps and unlocked her door, and he followed her in, carrying the two bags of groceries, and he closed the door behind him. |
| 3730 |
And she had wanted Adrian to be there, as their witness. It still seemed slightly insane to her, and she was amazed at herself that she was willing to do it. She hadn't thought she could trust him again, but she knew she did. And in the end, what they owed each other as much as love was forgiveness. |
| 3731 |
And as she held the puppy in her arms, she leaned over and kissed him. She knew as she looked at him that things were going to be better this time. In the ways that were good and right, still the same, and in new and better ways, they would be different. She trusted him again, which was a miracle in itself. |
| 3732 |
They finished shooting at one A.M., after which she went to a party she had promised to attend. And she walked back into the Ritz at four o'clock in the morning, full of energy, and none the worse for wear. Matt had dropped out two hours before. As he had pointed out, there was nothing like being twenty one years old. |
| 3733 |
Living in Florence was her dream come true. She was planning to attend an informal life drawing class with a live model, at an artist's studio at six o'clock that night, and she was leaving for the States the next day. She hated to leave, but had promised her mother she'd come home, as she did every year. |
| 3734 |
She had rented a tiny garret apartment in a crumbling building, which suited her to perfection. The work she was doing showed the fruits of her hard work for the past several years. She had given her parents one of her paintings for Christmas, and they had been astounded by the depth and beauty of her work. |
| 3735 |
Her mother said it was truly a masterpiece, and had hung it in the living room. Annie had carried it home herself, wrapped in newspapers, and unveiled it for them on Christmas Eve. Now she was going home for the Fourth of July party they gave every year, which she and her sisters moved heaven and earth to attend. |
| 3736 |
It was a sacrifice for Annie this year. There was so much work she wanted to do, she hated to pull herself away, even for a week. But like her sisters, she didn't want to disappoint her mother, who lived to see them, and thrived having all four of her girls home at the same time. She talked about it all year. |
| 3737 |
Nothing thrilled Annie more than her work and the deep satisfaction she derived from studying art, here at its most important source, in Florence. She got lost for hours at times in the Uffizi, studying the paintings, and drove often to see important work in neighboring towns. Florence was Mecca for her. |
| 3738 |
They met at the studio of a fellow artist, a young Italian, on New Year's Eve, and their romance had been hot and heavy ever since. They loved each other's work, and shared their deep commitment to art. His work was more contemporary, and hers more traditional, but many of their views and theories were the same. |
| 3739 |
Annie was more fortunate. At twenty six, her family was still willing to help her. She could easily see herself living in Italy for the rest of her life, nothing would please her more. And although she loved her parents and sisters, she hated to go home. Every moment away from Florence and her work was painful for her. |
| 3740 |
But for now, she was soaking up ancient techniques and the extraordinary atmosphere of Florence like a sponge. Her sister Candy was in Paris often, but Annie could never tear herself away from her work to see her, and although she loved her youngest sister deeply, she and Candy had very little in common. |
| 3741 |
They had been nearly inseparable for the past six months, and had traveled all over Italy together, studying both important and obscure works of art. The relationship was really going well. As she had told her mother on the phone, he was the first noncrazy artist she had ever met, and they had so much in common. |
| 3742 |
Her parents could have afforded to rent her a decent apartment, if she so chose. That was certainly not the case for most of the artists they knew. And however much he might have teased her about her parents supporting her, he had a deep respect for her talent and the quality of the work she produced. |
| 3743 |
And when she mastered a particularly difficult subject, Charlie told her how proud of her he was. He had wanted to travel to Pompeii with her that weekend, to study the frescoes there, and she had told him that she was going home for the week, for the Fourth of July party her parents gave every year. |
| 3744 |
Charlie had been mildly annoyed, and rather than waiting for another week to go to Pompeii with her, he said he would make the trip with another artist friend. Annie was disappointed not to go with him, but decided not to make an issue of it. At least that way he'd have something to do while she was gone. |
| 3745 |
He was extremely sensitive about his art, as many artists were. Annie was more open to critiques, and welcomed them, in order to improve her work. Like her sister Candy, there was a surprising modesty about her, and who she was. She was without artifice or malice, and was astonishingly humble about her work. |
| 3746 |
She was much happier wandering around Florence, eating gelato, or going to the Uffizi for the thousandth time in her sandals and peasant skirt. She preferred that to getting dressed up or wearing makeup or high heels, as everyone in Candy's crowd did. She disliked the superficial people Candy hung out with. |
| 3747 |
She had promised to cook him dinner the night before she left, after her class. She bought fresh pasta, tomatoes, and vegetables, and she planned to make a sauce she had just heard about. Charlie brought a bottle of Chianti, and poured her a glass while she cooked, as he admired her from across the room. |
| 3748 |
Annie was quiet and modest about that too. The only yardstick she measured herself and others by was how hard they worked on their art, how dedicated they were. "I'm leaving tomorrow," she reminded him, as she set down a big bowl of pasta on the kitchen table. It smelled delicious, and she grated the Parmesan herself. |
| 3749 |
She had acquired most of her furniture that way. She spent as little as possible of her parents' money, just for rent and food. There were no obvious luxuries in her life. And the little car she drove was a fifteen year old Fiat. Her mother was terrified it wasn't safe, but Annie refused to buy a new one. |
| 3750 |
She liked him better than she had anyone in years, and was in love with him too. The only thing that worried her about their relationship was that he was going back to the States in six months. He was already nagging her to move back to New York, but she wasn't ready to leave Italy yet, even for him. |
| 3751 |
Despite her love for him, she was loath to give up the opportunity for ongoing studies in Florence for any man. Until now, her art had always come first. This was the first time she had ever questioned that, which was scary for her. She knew that if she left Florence for him, it would be a huge sacrifice for her. |
| 3752 |
He leaned across the table and kissed her then, and she served him the pasta, which they both agreed was delicious. The recipe had been good, and she was a very good cook. He often said that meeting her had been the best thing that had happened to him since he'd arrived in Europe. When he said it, it touched her heart. |
| 3753 |
Her mother was afraid with each passing year that one of them would break tradition and stop coming home as they always had. And once that happened, it would never be the same again. So far none of the girls was married or had children, but their mother was well aware that once that happened, things would change. |
| 3754 |
She realized that it was nothing short of a miracle that all four of her daughters still came home three times a year, and even managed to visit whenever possible in between. Annie came home less frequently than the others, but she was religious about the three major holidays they celebrated together. |
| 3755 |
Charlie was far less involved with his family and said he hadn't been home to New Mexico to see them for nearly four years. She couldn't imagine not seeing her parents or sisters for that long. It was the one thing she missed in Florence, her family was too far away. Charlie drove her to the airport the next day. |
| 3756 |
Candy was arriving earlier, and Sabrina only had to drive in from New York, if she could drag herself out of the office, and of course she was bringing her awful dog. Annie was the only member of the family who hated dogs. The others were inseparable from theirs, except Candy when she traveled for work. |
| 3757 |
She couldn't say the same, and wouldn't have, but there was no question in her mind that she was very much in love with him. For the first time, she felt as though she had met a kindred spirit, and maybe even a possible mate, although she had no desire to marry for the next several years, and Charlie said the same. |
| 3758 |
She knew it was what he wanted, and she was ready to consider it now. They had gotten extremely close to each other in the last six months. Their lives were completely intertwined. He often said to her that he would love her no matter what, if she got fat, old, lost her teeth, her talent, or her mind. |
| 3759 |
She waved before disappearing through the gate, and her last sight of him was a tall, handsome young man waving at her with a look of longing in his eyes. She hadn't invited him to join her this time, but she was thinking of doing so for her Christmas trip, particularly if it was around the time he was going back. |
| 3760 |
In many ways, she had more in common with Charlie than with them, although she loved them more than life itself. Their sisterly bond was sacred to each of them. Annie settled into her seat for the brief flight to Paris. She sat next to an old woman who said she was going to visit her daughter there. |
| 3761 |
The first class seats turned into proper beds, and she had no desire to miss out on that. She told Annie she'd see her at home. She had thought of paying the difference in her fare but knew that Annie would never take charity from her sister. Annie was perfectly content in her economy seat as the plane took off. |
| 3762 |
It was the price she was willing to pay for creating and producing a hit television show. They had won two Emmys for the last two seasons. Their ratings had gone through the roof. The network and sponsors loved them, but she knew better than anyone that that would be the case only as long as their ratings stayed up. |
| 3763 |
She needed to sign them before she left, and she had to leave for the airport at one for a three o'clock flight to New York. It was impossible to explain to her family what her life looked like on an everyday basis, and what kind of pressure she was under to keep the show on top of the ratings charts. |
| 3764 |
If anything happened to Juanita, it would kill Tammy. She was unnaturally attached to her dog, as her mother had commented more than once. She was a replacement for everything Tammy didn't have in her life, a man, children, women friends to hang out with, her sisters on a daily basis since they had all left home. |
| 3765 |
She was famous all over the building now, as was Tammy, for her enormous success with the show, and her obsession with her dog. Tammy was a stunning looking woman, with a mane of long curly red hair that was so lush and luxurious that people accused her of wearing a wig sometimes, but it was all her own. |
| 3766 |
It had been what most people dreamed of and never had. Loving parents who were deeply devoted to each other, who had been rock solid for their four girls and still were. She missed their happy home life sometimes. Her life had never seemed entirely complete since she left. And they were all so spread out now. |
| 3767 |
She missed them so much at times, and usually when she finally had a chance to call them late at night, the time difference was all wrong, so she e mailed them instead. When they called her on her cell phone, when she was running from one meeting to another, or on the set, they could only exchange a few words. |
| 3768 |
She didn't want to hire a decorator and was determined to do it herself, but never had time. There were still boxes of china and decorative doodads that she hadn't bothered to unpack since she sold her last house. One day, she told herself and promised her parents, she was going to slow down, but not yet. |
| 3769 |
Tammy always said that Candy was a nomad at heart. The others were far more attached to the cities where they lived, and the place they had carved out for themselves in their own worlds. Although Candy was only eight years younger than Tammy, she seemed like a baby. And their lives were so incredibly different. |
| 3770 |
Tammy's work was about how beautiful others were, and how smart she was, although she was an extremely attractive woman, but she never thought about it. She was too busy putting out fires to even think about her looks, which was why there hadn't been a serious man in her life for more than two years. |
| 3771 |
Most of them were flaky, self centered, and so full of themselves. She often felt she was almost too old for them now. They preferred dating actresses, and most of the men who asked her out were married and more interested in cheating on their wives than in having a serious relationship with a single woman. |
| 3772 |
Healthy single guys were hard to come by, and at twenty nine she was in no rush to get married. She was far more interested in her career. Her mother reminded her every year that time went by quickly, and one day it would be too late. Tammy didn't know if she believed her, but she wasn't worried about it yet. |
| 3773 |
For now, she was on the fast track of Hollywood, and thoroughly enjoying it, even if she didn't have a social life or even a date. It was working for her. At five minutes after one she grabbed Juanita and put her in her Birkin, grabbed a stack of files and her computer, and shoved them in her briefcase. |
| 3774 |
Tammy didn't need much for the weekend, mostly blue jeans and T shirts, a white cotton skirt for her parents' party, and two pairs of high heeled Louboutin espadrilles. She had a row of bangle bracelets on her arm, and despite her lack of effort in that department, she always looked stylish and casual. |
| 3775 |
By the time they were halfway to the airport, there was nothing for her to do but put her head back against the seat and relax. She had brought work to do on the flight. She just hoped she didn't have a talker sitting next to her. Her mother always reminded her that she might meet the man of her dreams on a plane. |
| 3776 |
She always complained that you could hang meat in the first class cabin, they kept it so damn cold. She had brought a cashmere sweater for herself too. She always froze on planes. Probably because she skipped meals and never got enough sleep. She was looking forward to sleeping late at her parents' house that weekend. |
| 3777 |
It was the only place in her universe where she felt loved and nurtured and didn't have to take care of anyone else. Her mother adored fussing over them, no matter how old they were. She was looking forward to talking to her sisters about their parents' thirty fifth anniversary, which was coming up in December. |
| 3778 |
She held Juanita as she went through the metal detector while the little dog shook miserably, and as soon as they got through it, she put her back in her bag. And she was relieved to discover that there was no one beside her on the plane. She put her briefcase on the seat next to her, and took her work out. |
| 3779 |
She wanted to be wide awake and rested when she saw her sisters. They had so much to catch up on, and always so much to talk about. And even better than seeing her sisters, she couldn't wait to hug her mom. No matter how much clout she had in Hollywood or television, she was always thrilled to go home. |
| 3780 |
Sabrina left her office at six o'clock. She had meant to leave earlier, but there were documents she had to proofread and sign. Nothing was going to get done over the holiday weekend, but she was taking an extra day off and her secretary had to file the papers with the court when she got back to the office on Tuesday. |
| 3781 |
What she had seen in her eight years as an attorney had convinced her that she never wanted to get married, although she was crazy about her boyfriend and he was a good man. Chris was an attorney in a rival firm. His specialty was antitrust law, and he got involved in class action suits that went on for years. |
| 3782 |
Sabrina was thirty four years old. She and Chris didn't live together, but they spent the night with each other, at his apartment or hers, three or four times a week. Her parents had finally stopped asking her if and when they were getting married. The arrangement they had worked for them. Chris was as solid as a rock. |
| 3783 |
They enjoyed the theater, symphony, ballet, hiking, walking, playing tennis, and just being together on weekends. By now most of their friends were married and were even having second kids. Sabrina wasn't ready to think about it yet and didn't want to. They had both been made partners in their law firms. |
| 3784 |
She felt that what she and Chris shared was almost as good as being married, without the headaches, the risk of divorce, and the pain she saw in her practice every day. She never wanted to be like one of her clients, hating the man she had married, and bitterly disappointed by how things had turned out. |
| 3785 |
He was coming to her parents' party the next day and would spend the night at the house in Connecticut. He knew how important these weekends with her family were to her. And he liked all of her sisters and her parents. There was nothing about Sabrina he didn't like, except maybe her aversion to marriage. |
| 3786 |
He knew the nature of her law practice had put her off. At first, he had thought they'd be married in a couple of years. Now they had settled into a comfortable routine. Their apartments were only a few blocks apart, and they went back and forth with ease. He had a key to her apartment, and she had the key to his. |
| 3787 |
He had given her the dog for Christmas three years before, and Sabrina adored her. She was a black and white harlequin basset, with the mournful look of her breed and a personality to match. When Beulah didn't get enough attention, she got severely depressed, and it took days to cajole her out of it. |
| 3788 |
Chris took her on runs in the park on weekends, but lately they'd both been busy. He was working on a huge case, and Sabrina was currently handling six major divorces, at least three of which were going to trial. She had a heavy workload, and was very much in demand as a divorce attorney among the elite of New York. |
| 3789 |
She had packed the night before, and all she had to do was change out of her work clothes, a dark gray linen suit she had worn for a court appearance that morning, with a gray silk T shirt, a string of pearls, and high heeled shoes. She changed into jeans and a cotton T shirt and sandals for the drive to Connecticut. |
| 3790 |
She wished Tammy would find a man like him, but there were none in her world. Sabrina hadn't liked a single man that Tammy had gone out with in the past ten years. She was a magnet for self centered, difficult men. Sabrina had chosen someone like their father, easygoing, kind, good natured, and loving. |
| 3791 |
It was hard not to love Chris, and they all did. He even looked a little like her father, which the others had teased her about when they first met him. Now they all loved him as she did. She just didn't want to be married to him, or anyone else. She was afraid it would screw things up, as she had seen so often. |
| 3792 |
She never used it in the city, only when she went out of town. It was a short walk to the garage. She put her bag in the trunk, and Beulah sat majestically in the front passenger seat and looked out the window with interest. Sabrina was relieved that her parents were good sports about their daughters' dogs. |
| 3793 |
And she and Chris weren't going anywhere, they were happy as they were. Annie was the only one who seemed even remotely likely to get married. And as she drove out of the garage, Sabrina found herself wondering how serious this new boyfriend of Annie's was. She sounded pretty keen on him, and said he was terrific. |
| 3794 |
Sabrina made a point of meeting her for lunch or dinner, or even coffee, but she hardly saw the other two and seriously missed them. Sometimes she thought she felt it more than the others. Her bond to her sisters and sense of family was strong, stronger than her bond to anyone else, even Chris, much as she loved him. |
| 3795 |
He had just come home from playing squash with a friend and said he was exhausted, but happy he had won. "What time are you coming out tomorrow?" she asked. She already missed him. She always missed him on the nights they didn't spend together, but it made the nights they did spend with each other even sweeter. |
| 3796 |
They were still like a bunch of teenagers when they got together, they laughed and talked and giggled, usually late into the night. The only difference now from when they were young was that they smoked and drank while they did it, and they were a lot kinder about their parents than they had been as kids. |
| 3797 |
As teenagers, she and Tammy had given their mom a tough time. Candy and Annie had been easier, and had enjoyed the freedoms that Tammy and Sabrina had fought for earlier and that in some cases had been hard won. Sabrina always said that they had worn their mother down, but she had held a hard line at times. |
| 3798 |
Their mom had done a great job, and so had their dad. However, he often left a lot of the difficult decisions to their mother and often deferred to her, which always made Sabrina mad at him. She had wanted his support, and he refused to get in the middle of their battles. He wasn't a fighter, he was a lover. |
| 3799 |
And their mother had been more outspoken and more willing to be unpopular with her daughters, if she was convinced she was right. Sabrina thought she had been very brave, and respected her a great deal. She hoped she'd be as good a mother herself one day, if she was ever brave enough to have kids of her own. |
| 3800 |
She was in no hurry. Tammy was the one who was nervous about missing out on having kids, if she didn't find the right guy. At Christmas, she had admitted that she would go to a sperm bank one day if she had to. She didn't want to miss the chance to have children, just because she never found a man she wanted to marry. |
| 3801 |
But it was still early days for that, and her sisters had urged Tammy not to panic, or she'd end up with the wrong man again. She had done that often, and now seemed to have given up entirely. She said the men she met were all too crazy, and Sabrina didn't disagree, from what she'd seen of them over the years. |
| 3802 |
It was going to take forever to get there at this rate, but it was nice chatting with him. It always was. They rarely had arguments, and when they did, they blew over quickly. He was like her father that way too. Her father hated arguments of any kind, particularly with his wife or even his daughters. |
| 3803 |
He told her he loved her, and would see her the next day at her parents'. Sabrina thought about him as she drove, and felt lucky to have met him. It wasn't easy to meet good men, and one as nice as Chris was rare. She was well aware of it, and deeply grateful that they were so happy with each other. |
| 3804 |
It just got better from year to year, which was why her mother couldn't understand her lack of interest in getting married. It was just the way Sabrina was, and she always said it wasn't due to any failing on Chris's part. He was more than willing to get married, but patient with the fact that she wasn't. |
| 3805 |
The drive to Connecticut was long and slow that night. She called home to apologize for the delay, and her mother told her that both Annie and Candy had arrived, and were sitting by the pool. She said they both looked terrific, although Candy hadn't gained any weight, but at least she was no thinner. |
| 3806 |
More important, all four of them were happy, and had found their niche. Their mother never compared them to each other, even as children, and saw each of them as individuals, with different talents and needs. It made their relationship that much better with her now. And each in her own way was crazy about their mom. |
| 3807 |
And when they didn't respect them, she had been tough. It was just after ten o'clock when Sabrina pulled into their driveway. She let Beulah out of the car, and walked to the pool, where she knew she'd find everyone. The girls were in the water, and her parents were sitting on deck chairs, chatting with them. |
| 3808 |
And like her sisters, but in a totally different way, she was a beautiful young woman. She had long legs and a trim figure. She wasn't as tall as Candy, but she was tall. Tammy was tiny, like their mother, and Annie was somewhere between the two and of average height, but she was an unusually pretty girl too. |
| 3809 |
He leaned over and kissed her. After nearly thirty five years, they were still very much in love, and it showed. They had had their arguments over the years, though never serious ones. Their marriage had been stable since the day they married. Sabrina wondered sometimes if that was why she was hesitant about marriage. |
| 3810 |
She couldn't imagine being lucky enough to have a marriage like theirs, and she didn't want anything less. If anyone was likely to be a good husband, Chris was, but she couldn't imagine being as good a wife as her mother had been for all these years. Jane Adams seemed like the perfect wife and mother to her. |
| 3811 |
She wanted to be awake to welcome her. Sabrina went to put her bathing suit on and joined her sisters in the pool. It was a hot balmy night, the fireflies were dancing, and it was warm in the pool. Eventually, they went back into the house and changed into their nightgowns at nearly one o'clock in the morning. |
| 3812 |
Her personality did not reflect Tammy's, but she was definitely the fiercest dog in the pack, although the smallest. Tammy picked her up and scolded her, but the minute she set her down again, she had both dogs on the run. "She's hopeless," Tammy apologized, and then looked her sisters over carefully. |
| 3813 |
She had welcomed them all home and could leave them to their own devices now. She knew they'd sit up for hours, catching up, and exchanging secrets and stories about their respective lives. It was time for her to retire and leave them alone. "I'll see you in the morning," she said with a yawn, as she left the kitchen. |
| 3814 |
Money and success had come to her early, and in some ways it made her seem more mature than she really was. Sabrina and Tammy worried about her, and talked about it sometimes. Candy was exposed to some pretty scary stuff, in the course of her career as a supermodel. They just hoped she could handle it. |
| 3815 |
It was life on another planet to her. Her older sisters were far more aware of the dangers and risks, and the toll they could take on her. They kissed each other goodnight and went to their own rooms, and a few minutes later Sabrina walked back into Tammy's room and told her how happy she was to see her. |
| 3816 |
She was so happy to be with her sisters. They all were. And in her room, their mother could hear them moving around, visiting each other's bedrooms. She smiled as she turned over next to Jim. It reminded her of the old days, when she knew that all was well because all four of them were home at night. |
| 3817 |
He liked to leave them time with their mother, and planned to get back in the thick of things again later. He knew how crazy things were going to get with all five of his women buzzing around him. He preferred his mornings peaceful and quiet. Sabrina was always an early riser and was the first to get up. |
| 3818 |
Sabrina noticed how happy her mother seemed that morning, and knew how much it meant to her that they were all at home, even for a brief time. She had put a pot of coffee on, and Sabrina helped herself to a cup of the steaming brew, and sat down at the kitchen table to chat with her mother while waiting for the others. |
| 3819 |
Some things never changed even after all these years. She was still sound asleep upstairs in her bedroom, although her Yorkie had wandered downstairs and was playing in the kitchen with Juanita. Sabrina had let the basset out to check things out for herself, and hopefully she would find something to chase. |
| 3820 |
They were on a wide variety of time zones. It was already nearly dinnertime for Candy, who was still sleeping, and for Annie, who didn't want to admit it but was starving. She grabbed an orange from a bowl of fruit on the counter, and started unwinding the rind, as her mother poured coffee for Annie and Tammy. |
| 3821 |
For Tammy it still felt like the middle of the night, but she was wide awake. They all were. In spite of the late night the night before, they all were energetic. Jane suggested scrambled eggs, and put a plate of muffins on the table, with butter and jam. All three girls helped themselves while chatting. |
| 3822 |
Annie silently disappeared from the room and went to rouse her, and ten minutes later they both came down. By then, their mother was making scrambled eggs and bacon. They all insisted they weren't hungry, but as soon as the eggs were ready, they helped themselves to generous portions, including several strips of bacon. |
| 3823 |
And they all agreed that their mother looked better than ever. Her face was still beautiful and hardly lined. She could easily have lied and taken ten years off her age. It was hard for all of them to believe that she was old enough to have children their age, despite the fact that she had started young. |
| 3824 |
With so many hands at work, it took them only a few minutes to clean up the kitchen, and their mother ran upstairs to get her car keys and purse. She was back a minute later, as the three other girls headed toward the pool to check on their father, while she and Annie went out the back door to the car. |
| 3825 |
They found a parking space at the supermarket easily, and went inside together. They put the few items they wanted in a cart, and qualified for the express lane. They were back in the parking lot in less than five minutes. The weather was extremely hot, and they were both anxious to get home and jump in the pool. |
| 3826 |
Jane was listening to her intently, and as Annie talked, they both heard a loud snap, and saw the steel pipes begin to fall off the truck. Some rolled off to the sides, causing cars on the other side of the road to swerve to avoid them, and the rest of the pipes shot backward off the truck toward Jane's Mercedes. |
| 3827 |
Cars behind them and ahead of them came to a screeching stop, and traffic backed up instantly, as someone called the police. There was no sign of movement in any of the cars that had been hit, and the driver of the truck stood by the side of the road crying, as he looked at the scene of carnage his truck had caused. |
| 3828 |
The drivers of all three vehicles had been killed, along with a total of five passengers. There was only one survivor, the firemen were able to ascertain, and it took half an hour to get her out of the car. She had been pinned under the steel pipes, and she was unconscious as the ambulance drove her away. |
| 3829 |
If necessary, highway patrolmen were allowed to notify next of kin by phone, in case of an accident. But Chuck Petri, the officer in charge at the scene, thought it was inhuman to do that. If something had happened to his wife or daughter, he would want a real live human being to come and tell him, not a phone call. |
| 3830 |
So he sent two patrolmen to the Adamses' address and handled traffic at the scene himself, as they directed a single file of cars to move past the crushed cars and tarped bodies, going five miles per hour. The highway would be tied up for hours. The two patrolmen ringing the bell looked acutely uncomfortable. |
| 3831 |
They had been gone for nearly an hour, a lot longer than it took to get to the store they had in mind. Maybe the store was closed and they had had to go somewhere else for the pickles and mayonnaise. Tammy went to answer the door when they heard it; she was going to the kitchen to get something to drink anyway. |
| 3832 |
He hoped that one of the girls hadn't done something stupid. Candy was still young and was the only one he could think of who might. Maybe she had smuggled some drugs through customs when she came from Paris, or Annie in the spirit of her artistic life. He hoped not, but it was the only thing that came to mind. |
| 3833 |
They ran upstairs and grabbed their handbags, and with sudden forethought, Sabrina took the address book and party list from her mother's desk. They were going to have to call off the party that night. Tammy made sure all three dogs were inside and took bottles of water from the fridge and threw them into her bag. |
| 3834 |
It was bad enough to lose their mother, unthinkable in fact, but right now all she could allow herself to think about was Annie. She waited for the others to get out, which seemed to take forever, set the alarm on her father's car, and waved her thanks at the highway patrolmen for getting them there so fast. |
| 3835 |
They ran straight into the emergency room and were sent to the trauma unit, where the woman at the desk said Annie had been taken. Sabrina ran down the hall, with Candy and Tammy behind her, and her father bringing up the rear. Sabrina wanted to console him, but they had Annie to think about right now. |
| 3836 |
Somehow, as they walked into the trauma unit, Sabrina felt sure she would see her mother waiting for them, telling them Annie was going to be okay. The reality they encountered was far different. The chief resident in the trauma unit came out to see them immediately, as soon as Sabrina gave their names. |
| 3837 |
He said that Annie was barely clinging to life and needed brain and eye surgery as soon as possible, to relieve pressure on her brain and hopefully save her sight. But as he looked at all of them, he didn't pull any punches and said that Annie's injury was greatest in the part of her brain that affected her vision. |
| 3838 |
Both had been called. Since it was the Fourth of July, neither of them was on duty, but luckily their answering services had reached them. The brain surgeon had phoned to say he was on the way, and they had just reached the eye surgeon at a family barbecue. He had said he would be there in less than half an hour. |
| 3839 |
As far as they could tell, there was no major brain damage so far. The swelling of her brain was going to cause some real problems very shortly, but what the resident said he was most worried about were her eyes. If she survived the accident at all, there was a good chance her brain would return to normal. |
| 3840 |
They agreed to let him operate, and both Sabrina and Tammy signed the release forms. Their father was in no condition to do anything except sit in a chair in the waiting room, crying for his wife. His daughters were afraid he'd have a heart attack, and Candy had to sit down, saying she thought she was going to faint. |
| 3841 |
They didn't say it, but it was possible that it was the last time any of them would see her alive. Their father just shook his head and turned his face away. He was already dealing with more than he could handle, and he had been told he would have to identify his wife's body, which was downstairs in the morgue. |
| 3842 |
She was in a small curtained off area with a forest of tubes and monitors hanging from her. She had been intubated for the respirator and her nose taped closed. Four nurses and two residents were working on her, watching her vital signs closely. Her blood pressure had dropped, and they were fighting to keep her alive. |
| 3843 |
Sabrina was willing to settle for anything they could get, even if Annie was brain damaged and no longer herself for the rest of her life. They would love her just the same. She kissed her fingers again, and gave up her place to Tammy, who stood looking at her, with tears rolling down her cheeks in streams. |
| 3844 |
Sabrina came to put an arm around her and they walked out to the waiting room again. Their father and Candy hadn't moved since they left them and looked even worse than before, if that was possible, which gave Tammy an idea. She looked up their family doctor's phone number in the address book they'd brought with them. |
| 3845 |
After that she could be released to a funeral parlor, but none of them had thought of that yet. They were too stunned by everything that had happened, and too worried about Annie. While Tammy was on the phone, the resident had come to say that Annie was already in surgery, and they'd be starting in a few minutes. |
| 3846 |
He was deeply sympathetic, compassionate, and kind. He handed Sabrina a bottle of Valium and told her to distribute it as needed. He thought her father would benefit from one now and suggested someone take him home. He was in good health, but had always had a mild heart murmur, and he'd been through so much that day. |
| 3847 |
She had hyperventilated twice since they'd arrived, and said she felt as though she was going to vomit. She felt sick every time she stood up. Sabrina gave each of them a pill with a paper cup full of cold water, and conferred with Tammy quietly as soon as the doctor went downstairs to the morgue to identify Jane. |
| 3848 |
He asked the girls if they had contacted a funeral parlor yet, and they said they hadn't had time. They had come straight to the hospital to see Annie. No calls had been made. Neither of their parents had siblings, and their grandparents were all dead and had been for years. The entire family was at the hospital. |
| 3849 |
All decisions could be made right here, although Sabrina and Tammy were obviously in charge and had the clearest heads, in spite of the fact that both were deeply affected by what had happened. But their father and Candy were falling apart. Tammy and Sabrina weren't, no matter how heartbroken they were. |
| 3850 |
The doctor had told them what funeral parlor to call, and as soon as he left, Sabrina called them and said they would try to come in the next day to discuss arrangements, but circumstances were difficult, with their sister in critical condition. She just hoped they wouldn't be planning two funerals. |
| 3851 |
If anything, she was pragmatic and had common sense, even in circumstances as awful and emotional as these. And Sabrina was levelheaded too. They looked entirely different, but were sisters to the core, and had a lot of their mother in them. She would have handled this just as they had. Sabrina was aware of it herself. |
| 3852 |
They just took comfort in action, like their mother. Annie and Candy were more like their father, dreamers, and more high strung, although Tammy had never thought of her father that way. She had always assumed he was strong, but saw now that he wasn't, and without her mother he was collapsing like a house of cards. |
| 3853 |
He was just leaving his apartment, and asked if she had forgotten anything she needed him to bring. He sounded in great spirits, and hadn't had time yet to notice that Sabrina wasn't. All she had said so far was hello, in a shaking voice. "I need you to come out right away," she said, which confused him. |
| 3854 |
For an artist, on top of it. He just hoped that she'd survive, in whatever condition. Sabrina called the caterers first, to cancel, and then everyone on the list. It took two hours, and was nearly unbearable. She had to tell each person what had happened. And all of their friends were in shock once she had. |
| 3855 |
Many of them offered to go over and see her dad, but she told them she thought it was too soon. He had been in no state to see anyone when he left the hospital. She had called Tammy at the house several times, and she said they were both sound asleep, mercifully. The Valium had done its job. Tammy had taken nothing. |
| 3856 |
There was so much to think about and so little that any of them could do right now. All they could do was wait, and pray for Annie. Tammy had called the funeral parlor again from the house, and started to make arrangements, and decisions. She told Sabrina that they had to go there in the morning and pick a casket. |
| 3857 |
Chris told Sabrina he'd cook dinner for them, and Tammy could come back to the hospital to wait with Sabrina. Half an hour later Tammy was back, and the two sisters sat in silence in the waiting room, huddled together and holding hands. Eventually they had their arms around each other and just held each other that way. |
| 3858 |
It sounded sensible to her too. It was nearly ten when Annie finally came out of surgery. She had been there for almost eight hours, and as far as the doctors were concerned, it had gone well. She had survived it. She was still on the respirator, but they were going to try and take her off it in a few days. |
| 3859 |
She was still in critical condition, but as they told her sisters, they were guardedly optimistic, depending on how she came through the next forty eight to seventy two hours. But they were hopeful that she would live, without long term damage to her brain. And then came the bad news. They had saved the worst for last. |
| 3860 |
The most important was that she had survived the surgery, and the operation on her brain had gone well. But the eye surgery hadn't. Her optic nerves had been severed and could not be repaired. The damage to her eyes was so severe that even a transplant could not help her. There was no question and no hope. |
| 3861 |
Knowing her as they did, they couldn't imagine it, and suspected she would rather be dead than blind. Everything in her life was about art and sight. What would Annie do without that? Her entire education and life were related to art. It was horrifying to think about, but losing her completely would be worse. |
| 3862 |
Sabrina hadn't been there since they got the news, and Tammy had been at the hospital for hours. It was hard to believe it was the same day as the one in which they'd left the house, after learning of their mother's death, and going to find Annie. The day had been a thousand years long, and every one of them bad. |
| 3863 |
Chris had fed them and let them out several times. There wasn't much else for him to do, since both Jim and Candy had been asleep most of the time. He just sat quietly, thinking, and played with the dogs. He was afraid to call Sabrina and disturb her, so he just waited to hear the news when they got back. |
| 3864 |
She, Chris, and Tammy got up early the next morning. He cooked breakfast while the girls showered and got ready to go to the funeral parlor. Candy and their father were still asleep. Chris took care of the dogs, and was waiting at the breakfast table with scrambled eggs and bacon and English muffins. |
| 3865 |
Much to their amazement, their father cleaned his plate, and for the first time in twenty four hours, he wasn't crying. Sabrina and Tammy had agreed, they had to tell them about Annie then. It couldn't be put off. They had a right to know. Sabrina started to tell them after breakfast, and found she couldn't. |
| 3866 |
She turned away, and Tammy stepped into the breach, and explained everything the ophthalmologist had said the night before. The bottom line was that Annie was blind. There was stunned silence in the kitchen after she said it, and her father looked at her as though he didn't believe her or hadn't heard her correctly. |
| 3867 |
This was going to be a huge adjustment for all of them, but nothing compared to what it would be for Annie. It would be catastrophic for her, a tragedy beyond measure. Telling her would be the worst moment of their lives, other than their mother dying, living with it the worst moments in hers, forever. |
| 3868 |
That wasn't sure yet either. But the shock of Annie's blindness kept them from thinking about what would happen if she died. Their mother's funeral had been scheduled for Tuesday afternoon, after the long weekend. Tammy had contacted caterers to serve the throngs of people who would come to the house afterward. |
| 3869 |
But the surgeon had been so specific with them, and so thorough, that it was hard to believe he might be mistaken. It would have been nice if he was, but Sabrina thought her father just wasn't ready to give up hope. She couldn't blame him. Everything about this experience had been excruciating for all of them. |
| 3870 |
This time Tammy agreed that they should call. If he was calling her cell phone, he might be getting worried. It had disappeared somewhere under the truck. Luckily for them, there was an address book in the suitcase in her room, and Charlie's cell phone number was in it. It was all too simple to find him. |
| 3871 |
It seemed to be the pat phrase everybody said now, although she was sure he meant well. It was hard to know what to say in the face of such enormous shock. She would have been hard pressed for words herself, and after all she and Annie's boyfriend were strangers. All they had in common was her sister, which was a lot. |
| 3872 |
But maybe, he told himself, they didn't want to support a blind kid and wanted to foist her off on him. If that was the case, they had called the wrong number. Sabrina thought she had anyway, in every possible way. She felt deeply sorry for her sister. But not everyone was lucky enough to find a man like Chris. |
| 3873 |
She didn't want to make things worse, or scare Charlie off forever. It sounded like he was headed that way anyway, but Sabrina didn't want to be the cause of his disappearing into the sunset prematurely. Annie had a right to do that herself, or not if she preferred it. She needed him more than ever now. |
| 3874 |
You can send her a get well card, come to visit her, be there for her, or walk out on her because it's too much for you. It's your choice to make, and I'm sure it's not easy. I just figured you'd want to know what's going on. She has a lot of very, very hard stuff to face. And as far as I know, you're important to her. |
| 3875 |
But she's going to need a lot of care and support. She'll probably be depressed out of her mind for the next several years, maybe forever. That's too much for me to carry. I can't. I don't want to be a psych nurse, or a guide dog for the blind. I can hardly keep my shit together myself, I can't take on hers too. |
| 3876 |
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They visited Annie in the hospital that afternoon. She was still unconscious, and would remain that way for another day or two, from the sedation. As it turned out, she was going to sleep through their mother's funeral on Tuesday, which the others thought was a blessing for her. |
| 3877 |
The two older sisters clutched each other's hands and cried when she took her first breath on her own. Sabrina looked at Tammy afterward and said that she felt as though she had just given birth to her herself. They reduced the sedation after that and expected her to wake up gently on her own in the next few days. |
| 3878 |
In some ways, they were both relieved. It would have been too much having Annie discover her blindness that day too. They had gotten a reprieve for another day. The funeral itself was exquisite agony. It was simple, beautiful, elegant, and in perfect taste. There were lilies of the valley and white orchids everywhere. |
| 3879 |
Sabrina said to Chris afterward that she had never been so tired in her life. They were just about to sit down in the living room, when the hospital called. Tammy's heart stopped as she answered. All she could think of when the chief resident identified himself was that if Annie died now, it would kill them all. |
| 3880 |
Annie's eyes were still bandaged when they got to her, and the chief resident assured them that they would be for at least another week. It gave them time to prepare for what they were going to say to her. She complained that she couldn't see anything with the bandages on, and asked weakly to have them taken off. |
| 3881 |
They kissed her and held her hands and told her how much they loved her. All three of her sisters and Chris had come to visit her. Their father was just too wiped out to face yet another emotional event. He promised to visit her the next day. They still had their mother's burial to get through the following afternoon. |
| 3882 |
Their mother's burial was the last step in the series of traditions that seemed barbaric to all of them now, and this would be the final one. Seeing Annie talking and moving again, and speaking to each of them was an affirmation of life. She asked where their parents were, and Tammy said simply that they hadn't come. |
| 3883 |
She had already called her office that morning, and was taking the next two weeks off. Chris had finagled four days, so he could spend the rest of the week in Connecticut with her. And Tammy had done the same, but she had to go back without fail by the coming Monday. She didn't see how she could stay even another day. |
| 3884 |
They were furious about it, but she insisted she was too upset to work, and told them why. So at least for the rest of the week, they could all be together, and at Annie's side. Sabrina knew she was going to need each one of them, maybe for a long time, or even forever. They hadn't worked out the future yet. |
| 3885 |
First Annie had to wake up, and now that she had, they had to make plans. Sabrina was relieved that Annie hadn't said anything about Charlie that night. She was still too tired, but sooner or later, she would ask. It was yet another blow coming her way, along with her mother's death and the loss of her sight. |
| 3886 |
They were sitting in the kitchen late that night, after their father went to bed, when Sabrina looked at her sisters with a frown. "Uh oh," Tammy teased her, and poured herself another glass of wine. She was beginning to enjoy the gatherings they shared every night, in spite of the reason they were still there. |
| 3887 |
They had been drinking some of his best wines. "You've had an idea," Tammy finished the thought, looking at her older sister. Sabrina looked as though she was hatching a plan. In the old days, when they were kids, it would have meant something forbidden, like giving a party when their parents went away for the weekend. |
| 3888 |
They would have to do it soon. It wasn't fair to her not to know for much longer, and inevitably, she would wonder where she was. Even that night, it had been hard to explain. Their mother would have been there in a flash, and camped out in the room. Her absence was sorely felt by them all, and would be by Annie too. |
| 3889 |
She had lived there briefly before she left for Paris four years before, although she said it was too hectic for her. She had liked France, and then Italy much better, but now it was out of the question. She needed to be closer to home, for a while anyway, until she adjusted to her situation. They all agreed on that. |
| 3890 |
But he was willing to listen and see where they went with her idea. He could see advantages to it too, particularly for Annie, in her moment of need, initially anyway. In the long run, as hard as it was, Annie would have to find her way. Sabrina knew that too. But at least at first, they could help. |
| 3891 |
The others were always helping her, but this might help her grow up. She made an incredible living as a supermodel, but she was still very immature. And she was only twenty one. As far as they were concerned, she was a baby. But maybe she could handle closing the apartment in Florence. It was worth a shot. |
| 3892 |
Now they were leaving her here, to be buried at a cemetery with strangers, in the family plot. They didn't wait to see the box lowered into the ground. Sabrina and Tammy had agreed at the funeral parlor that no one could have tolerated the agony of it, and when they checked with him, their father had agreed. |
| 3893 |
The past few days had been the hardest of his life, as his children knew only too well. He looked as though he had aged a decade in five days. Her father got into the limousine without comment and sat next to Sabrina. He sat staring out the window on the way home. Tammy was in the car with them as well. |
| 3894 |
Sabrina had a sense that her mother would have preferred it that way. Since she had left no directions about funeral arrangements, they had had to guess all along the way, and they had consulted their father about each minute detail. He just wanted the nightmare to end, and for her to come back to them. |
| 3895 |
They hadn't even begun to travel that road with her yet, and she was fully expecting the transition from artist to woman who no longer had sight to take a long time. This was no small cross for her to bear. Her father said when they got back to the house that he needed to go to the bank that afternoon. |
| 3896 |
Sometimes the full weight of the tragedy nearly crushed him, and at other times he felt all right for a few hours, and then fell through a hole in the floor again, suddenly, brutally, with all the force of her loss weighing on him. He felt as though his whole world were upside down, and in many ways it was. |
| 3897 |
Sabrina thought it would be good for him, but some of the others didn't agree. He looked tired and worn and frail, and had already lost several pounds. They were all afraid that the loss of their mother would impact his health, and that he would turn into an old man overnight. He already nearly had. |
| 3898 |
When Sabrina was alone in the library after the burial ceremony, she called the realtor in New York who had found her current apartment, and told her what she was looking for. Three bedrooms, since Tammy had decided not to join them but would stay in California so she could still produce her hit show. |
| 3899 |
She had never bothered to decorate it, or put the finishing touches on it. She was out of town too much to really care. Like Sabrina, she was interested in their safety, and a sense of protection when she came home at night. The others didn't go out as much as Candy did, they led more sedentary lives. |
| 3900 |
Sabrina was also hoping they'd find a place with a decent kitchen where they could cook. And hopefully, thanks to Sabrina, Chris would come often and whip something up for them to eat. He was very nearly a gourmet cook. Sabrina wanted to learn from him, but she never had time, and some of the time she skipped meals. |
| 3901 |
Of course it made it more challenging that Sabrina told her they needed it soon. Annie would be out of the hospital in a few weeks, and Sabrina wanted to get them all moved in. She'd have to give notice on her own apartment, and Candy was planning to rent out her penthouse once they found something. |
| 3902 |
He was willing to pay as much as half, because he thought their project to help their injured sister was noble of them, although he still refused to believe that she would be permanently blind. He now said that maybe her vision would come back one day. The blow of her new reality was just too much for him to endure. |
| 3903 |
But losing his wife, nearly losing his daughter, and her becoming permanently blind were almost too great a shock for him to bear. His mind refused to take it all in, or believe what had happened in the past five days. It was barely easier for his daughters to understand. And Annie knew nothing about any of it yet. |
| 3904 |
Tammy and Chris made sandwiches when they got back. People had been dropping food baskets off to them, and there was a wide assortment of delicacies, snacks, and cooked meals crowded into the kitchen. It looked like Christmas, when friends and their father's clients sent baskets of gourmet treats and wine. |
| 3905 |
In fact, Sabrina was already dreading the holidays now that her mother was gone. They would be agonizing for all of them this year. She knew that their mother's absence would be felt even more acutely then, by all. Their father went to the bank when the girls went to visit their sister that afternoon. |
| 3906 |
They sat quietly in her room for a while, and waited for her to wake up. The nurse said she was having a nap, but was in fairly decent spirits that day. Her sisters knew she wouldn't be for long. By the end of the week, reality would have hit. Like a tsunami. She woke up finally as they sat whispering close by her. |
| 3907 |
She was developing a sixth sense for people's movements with the heavy bandages over her eyes. Her hearing seemed much more acute, and she correctly guessed which of her sisters was standing closest to her almost every time. "Hi, Tammy," she said, as her next oldest sister smiled and kissed her cheek. |
| 3908 |
They were a tightly knit group that often spoke with one mind, one voice. Their mother had loved calling them the four headed monster when they were growing up. If you spoke to one, or crossed one, you dealt with all four. And God help you if they felt you had been unjust to one or more. Nothing much had changed. |
| 3909 |
The doctor said they had to stay on for a few more days. They were taking them off a week early as it was. But this was terrible not being able to see her sisters' faces or eyes if they had lost their mother. She wanted her bandages off, but tugging and clawing at them did nothing. She had already tried, to no avail. |
| 3910 |
She sat and cried for a long time while they held her, like three guardian angels taking care of her. But the sweetest angel of all was gone. Annie just couldn't understand it or absorb it any more than they could. It was the worst thing Annie had ever heard, and the same for her sisters, even after four days. |
| 3911 |
It hadn't been easy for them either. They were still having trouble adjusting, and so would she. Their mother was just too strong a loving presence for them to be able to understand her sudden death, or even able to cope with the aftermath, which so far had been very well handled, by her sisters above all. |
| 3912 |
It was Annie who was going to have such enormous challenges to meet now, whose suddenly limited life was going to be so hard, who would never again be able to see a painting, or create one, when all her life she had lived for art. It was Annie who had been cheated out of her sight and was still so young. |
| 3913 |
It was such a strange time for all of them. Their mother had left such a huge hole in their lives, and their community, where for years she had been so loved and admired, as a wife, mother, friend, human being, and hard worker at many charities. She had been so much more to so many than just their mother or Jim's wife. |
| 3914 |
This was between them, a private moment in their family. It had startled him when Jim had told him what he was doing, after they went to the bank that afternoon. It seemed soon to him, but the older man had pointed out that it would be months before all his daughters would be home again at the same time. |
| 3915 |
As the girls followed their father into the dining room, they were shocked at what they saw there. They hadn't been prepared for this, and he hadn't warned them. Tammy gave a little gasp of pain and took a step back. Sabrina covered her eyes for a moment with her hand. And Candy just stood there and started to cry. |
| 3916 |
But they were lovely pieces that her mother had worn and loved. Each piece on the dining room table would remind them of their mother each time they wore them, although it felt a little like stealing them from her, raiding her jewel box while she was out, and having to explain it to her when she got back. |
| 3917 |
Laying her jewelry out as he had was a way of acknowledging that she was gone forever, and they had to step into the world as adults now, with nothing to buffer them from what life had in store for them, good or bad. Suddenly, no matter what age they were, they were adults. They no longer had a mom. |
| 3918 |
Annie isn't here, but she can't pick the pieces now anyway, and you know what she likes. You can pick for her, or make exchanges later if you want. I want you to take turns, one by one. Each of you pick something, then the next one takes a turn, by order of age, one turn each, until you divide it all up. |
| 3919 |
They put the first items on. The ruby band was exactly the right size for Tammy, and she swore she'd never take it off. She was exactly her mother's size. One by one, they began to choose items that they remembered so well. There were a few pieces of their grandmother's, which were outdated but pretty. |
| 3920 |
They had the look of the forties, some big topaz pieces, some aquamarines, and a beautiful cameo they chose for Annie, because she could feel it and they agreed that the face on the brooch looked like her. It wouldn't have surprised their mother, or their father, that they were extremely respectful of each other. |
| 3921 |
They wound up with exactly the same number of pieces. Each of them had two or three fairly important items, and a number of others that were of less value but meant a lot to them, and they were satisfied with what they'd picked for Annie, and more than willing to make trades if she didn't like what they described. |
| 3922 |
It was all a little more grown up than they were used to wearing, but they agreed that they'd grow into it over time, and even wear it now, to remind them of their mother. There was something very tender and moving about having her jewelry now. And when they had finished dividing it up, they tried on the furs. |
| 3923 |
There was a black mink coat that looked gorgeous on Sabrina and fit her since the style was loose and her mother wore her fur coats a little on the long side. Sabrina looked very elegant in the coat. And the rich brown mink looked spectacular on Tammy, who said she would wear it to the Emmys next year. |
| 3924 |
She was so thin that it fit, and the length looked great with her long legs. The sleeves were a little short, but she said she liked it that way. Her mother had worn it only once, and all four of the coats were in great shape and seldom worn. She only wore them when they went to dinner in the city, or some major event. |
| 3925 |
She had had a Persian lamb coat of her grandmother's from the thirties that she had worn when she was young, but it was long gone. These coats were almost brand new, very stylish, and looked fabulous on them. They all set the coats down respectfully when they had chosen, and went back to the den to thank their dad. |
| 3926 |
He saw them walk into the room with smiling faces, and they each kissed him and told him how much it meant to them to have their mother's things. He had kept her wedding ring and engagement ring, which had a very small stone, and put them in a little box on his desk, where he could see them whenever he wanted. |
| 3927 |
But there was no rush for that. The jewelry had seemed important to him, as they needed to be together to do it, and he didn't want to wait five months, when they came back for Thanksgiving. It had shaken them to see her things at first, and to help themselves to them, but it had been done in an orderly, loving way. |
| 3928 |
They had learned the lesson well. Their father and Chris had ordered dinner while the sisters were looking at the jewelry. They had ordered curry from a nearby Indian restaurant, and it was very good. They chatted over dinner, and for a moment life almost seemed normal as they talked and laughed and teased each other. |
| 3929 |
Or they had now they'd all be living together, when Annie got out of the hospital, and she'd be living three thousand miles away. But there was no other way. She couldn't give up what she had there. It would have destroyed the career she had worked so hard to build. It was a tough choice for her to make. |
| 3930 |
They had their own apartments, never commingled money, and were careful to keep things separate. As attorneys, they knew the mess it could make otherwise, if they ever broke up. But Beulah was the child they shared. Sabrina always laughed and said they'd need a joint custody agreement for her if they ever split up. |
| 3931 |
Chris had a better idea and would have preferred getting married, if nothing else to protect the dog, he liked to tease her. But marriage just hadn't been in the cards for her so far, and wouldn't be for a while. "Why not?" Tammy asked her the next day, as they were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee. |
| 3932 |
Their father and Chris were doing errands, and Candy was checking out a new gym nearby. She said she was falling apart not doing her Pilates for the last week, and she said she was gaining weight, which seemed like good news to all of them. She said her body was turning to mush, or it felt that way to her. |
| 3933 |
Neither of them had been a heavy drinker, and none of their daughters was, although they drank more than their parents had. Candy partied harder than the others, but she was still young, and moved in a faster crowd, because of her work. None of the others was out of control, and Candy was still within the norm. |
| 3934 |
She thought Chris was incredibly patient with her sister, and she knew he wanted kids. Sabrina wasn't sure about that either. She didn't want to lose her children half time to joint custody if she ever got divorced. She had been deeply affected by her work, and the ugly problems she handled for her clients every day. |
| 3935 |
She was in a tough spot to meet men. She was successful, powerful in her industry, in a world of narcissists and operators who all wanted something from her and gave nothing back. And yet she was beautiful, smart, successful, and young. It was hard to believe she couldn't meet a decent man, but she hadn't yet. |
| 3936 |
He and Jim had just gotten back after a long run to the hardware store. Chris had promised to fix some things around the house. They were looking for distractions to keep busy, and as long as he was going to be there for three more days, he thought he might as well help out. He enjoyed that kind of thing. |
| 3937 |
Her sisters reminded her that her health did too. Tammy had warned her that she'd wind up sterile from starving for so many years. It wasn't a high priority for Candy yet. She was much more interested in staying on top in her field, and she certainly had the right look. Being superthin was essential to her. |
| 3938 |
The three of them went out to the pool then and went for a swim. Afterward their father joined them, and sat chatting with Chris, while the two women talked about Annie, and the adjustment she'd have to make. Sabrina was still excited about her apartment idea, and hoped she'd hear from the realtor soon. |
| 3939 |
He had been outnumbered by women for years. Chris was like the son he'd never had. "You can fly in and spend weekends with us when you have time." Tammy tried to remember the last time she'd spent a weekend when she hadn't worked, and there hadn't been a crisis on the show. It had been at least six months, maybe more. |
| 3940 |
She was getting restless and her head still hurt, which was hardly surprising. A physical therapist came to work with her, and she broke down and cried several times about their mother. She still couldn't believe what had happened, and neither could they. But they were focusing their worries on her now. |
| 3941 |
The bandages were due to be taken off on Saturday. And all three of her sisters felt sick, thinking about the impact it would have on her. Reality was coming toward her with lightning speed. Their father went to see her on Thursday night, and dropped by again while the girls were there on Friday morning. |
| 3942 |
She assumed he was in Pompeii with his friends, and maybe the reception was bad there. She didn't want to leave a message that her mother had died and she'd been in an accident, and worry him, but it was upsetting not being able to get hold of him for so long. It had only been a week. So much had happened since then. |
| 3943 |
She hated to leave, but had no choice. Fires were burning at her office, and they still had to find a replacement for their star, and alter the scripts once they did. It was going to be a knotty problem to work out, and she was in no mood to think about it now. All she could think about were her mother and Annie. |
| 3944 |
But she had no idea that when she did, she would be blind. She kept saying that she couldn't wait until they took the bandages off her eyes, and every time she said it, her sisters silently cried. When the bandages came off, Annie's world would still be dark, forevermore. It was a tragedy beyond words. |
| 3945 |
They had agreed amongst themselves that he shouldn't be there. It was going to be too emotional for him. He had enough on his plate, adjusting to the loss of his wife. When Sabrina walked into the kitchen of her parents' house, she saw two messages from the realtor she had called, and thought it was a hopeful sign. |
| 3946 |
It's a co op, but the people aren't ready to move in yet. They want to sell their house first, so they're willing to rent it for six months or a year. It's in fabulous condition, since everything's brand new. State of the art equipment. It's a penthouse, and there's a pool and a health club in the building. |
| 3947 |
You said you only need three, but you could use the fourth one as a home office. And the kitchen and dining room are in the basement, so it's a hike from the fridge to the bedrooms, but there's a fridge and a microwave in the family room upstairs. You have to be creative about brownstones in New York. |
| 3948 |
It's all north south exposure. Washing machine and dryer, the house is fully air conditioned, and the price is right, but you can't extend it beyond a year. He wants his house back after a year. He sees patients in the house. He's a fairly well known guy in his profession. He's written several books. |
| 3949 |
Sabrina was thinking that they could put Annie on the second floor, with Candy maybe, and she could take one of the bedrooms on the next flight up, so she and Chris could have some privacy, and they could all hang out upstairs. With luck and a little planning, it might work, if Annie could get around. |
| 3950 |
He doesn't want people giving wild parties, or trashing it. It's a cute little house, and he wants to come back and find it in good shape. He set the price, and I told him he could get twice that, but he doesn't care. If you're interested, you'd better see it quick. I don't think it will be on the market for long. |
| 3951 |
It didn't have the security most young women wanted, with a doorman, but you couldn't have everything, she pointed out, and then added that houses and apartments were like romance. You either fell in love or you didn't. She hoped Sabrina would. She told Tammy and Candy about it when she got off the phone. |
| 3952 |
She had bought some pretty antiques and wonderful art, and although the house wasn't finished, it was a pleasure to come home to at night, even if she was alone. Like Candy, her income allowed her to live in a wonderful place and buy pretty things. Sabrina lived on a tighter budget than her sisters. |
| 3953 |
And Annie lived on a shoe string, out of respect for her parents, since she had almost no income except for the occasional painting she sold. She had simple needs. And none of them could imagine Annie making any kind of income now that she was blind. There was nothing she was trained for except art. |
| 3954 |
This was a whole new world for her, and it would be for Annie too. Aside from the physical aspects, depression was her greatest fear for her sister now, and all too real. She couldn't imagine it being otherwise. All three girls thought the brownstone sounded like a good possibility, and even Chris was enthused. |
| 3955 |
They already knew that she would have to have special training. She could go away to a rehab place for blind people for several months, or she could do it on an outpatient basis. What she needed now were life skills adapted to her blindness, and eventually maybe, if she was amenable, a seeing eye dog. |
| 3956 |
A seeing eye dog might be different, but that was still a long way off. She had a lot of very basic things to learn first. At least Annie didn't have long months or years of surgeries ahead of her, Sabrina said on the way to the hospital, looking for the bright side. But other than that, there was none. |
| 3957 |
She had classic survivor guilt, and her sisters told her over and over, to no avail, that it wouldn't have made a difference. It all happened too fast. They assured her again and again that no one blamed her, but she clearly blamed herself. Annie was lying in bed quietly when they walked into the room. |
| 3958 |
And the doctor walked in five minutes later. He exuded an air of quiet confidence, and smiled as he looked at all four sisters. He had already seen them several times that week, and had commented that Annie was a lucky woman to have such strong family support. He said it wasn't always that way between sisters. |
| 3959 |
And he realized now that he was facing all four, not just one, for this painful moment. He told Annie that when he took the bandages off, she was not going to see anything different than she did now. As he said it, Sabrina held her breath, and Tammy reached out and squeezed her hand. This was awful. |
| 3960 |
Annie asked him then if there were stitches he had to take out, and he said there weren't. The stitches were all dissolving ones, and were inside. Many of the cuts on her face had begun to heal by then. Only the gash on her forehead was likely to leave a scar, but if she wanted to, she could cover it with bangs. |
| 3961 |
She didn't know what it was, but the tension in the room was palpable and she didn't like it. He took the patches off, and Annie had done what she was told and closed her eyes. He shielded her eyes with his hand then, and asked Sabrina to close the venetian blinds. Even in her blindness, the sunlight could be a shock. |
| 3962 |
There are a lot of things you can do to have a good life. Jobs, travel, you can lead a fully independent life. People without sight do remarkable things in the world. Famous people, important people, ordinary people like you and me. You just have to take a different approach than the one you had before. |
| 3963 |
She might see light and shadows one day, but she would never have her sight. She was blind. At her father's request, another ophthalmologist had examined her records that week, and had come to all the same conclusions. "Oh my God," she said, as her head dropped back onto the pillow, and she sobbed uncontrollably. |
| 3964 |
There was nothing more he could do for her right now. She needed them. He was the villain who had just destroyed all hope of life as she had known it until now. He would meet with her again, and help design a treatment plan for her, and make suggestions about the training she would need. But it was too soon for that. |
| 3965 |
Although he was usually more dispassionate, these four women, and especially his patient, had moved him deeply. He felt like an ax murderer as he left the room, and wished he could have done more for her, but he couldn't. No one could have. At least he had managed to preserve her eyeballs so she wasn't disfigured. |
| 3966 |
Sabrina nodded it seemed like an excellent idea. This was just too much for her. Losing their mother and finding out she was blind, all within a week. After listening to Annie cry for three and a half hours, she felt as though she needed sedation herself. Annie lay in Tammy's arms, crying, as they gave her the shot. |
| 3967 |
After what they had just been through, Sabrina was going to call her. She finally got the car keys out of her bag, and opened the doors. The others got in, and looked as though they'd been through the wars. It was two o'clock, and they had been with her for four hours, three and a half since she heard the news. |
| 3968 |
Their second visit of the day to Annie was even worse than the first. She was still sleepy from the sedation and had sunk into a depression. She just sat in her bed and cried and hardly talked. Their father cried when he saw her and tried to tell her, in a broken voice, that everything would be all right. |
| 3969 |
It occurred to Sabrina then that they might have to get tough with her, and force her to make efforts that she wouldn't make otherwise. Tammy was thinking the same thing. If Annie was going to feel sorry for herself, and refuse to cooperate, she would have to be pushed. But it was way too soon to tell. |
| 3970 |
She had just found out, and everything was still horrifying and new. They stayed with her until dinnertime, and then much as they hated to do it, they had to leave. They were all exhausted, and she needed to rest. They had been with her most of the day, and promised to come back in the morning, which they did. |
| 3971 |
Sunday was more of the same, if anything it was worse than the day before, as the reality sank in. It was what she had to go through, in order to accept what had happened to her. They left her at six o'clock. It was Tammy's last night. She still had to pack, and she wanted to spend some time with their father. |
| 3972 |
Sabrina was taking Candy with her too, so if they liked it, they could make a decision on the spot. They all tried to come up with ideas for Annie that night over dinner. There was no question, she had to go to a special school for the blind. She was right, there were so many things she couldn't do now. |
| 3973 |
He had absolutely nothing to do without his wife. She had taken care of everything for him, organized their social life, planned everything. She had kept life interesting for him, with trips into the city for symphony, theater, and ballet. None of his children could imagine him doing any of that for himself. |
| 3974 |
Their dogs were all asleep on their beds. Their father had gone to bed at ten. All was peaceful in the house, and as Sabrina got into bed, she told herself that if she closed her eyes, she could pretend that her mother was still there. In each of their beds, all three girls were thinking exactly the same thing. |
| 3975 |
Candy said she didn't need to go to hers. She seemed to have a limitless supply of see through T shirts with her. Sabrina felt as though she'd been gone for years. It felt strange to realize that the last time she had seen her apartment, her mother was alive and Annie wasn't blind. So much had changed in a short time. |
| 3976 |
She wasn't attached to her apartment, so she didn't care so much about that. But living with Annie and Candy would be a big change for her. She had been on her own since college, nearly thirteen years. Moving in with her sisters would be a step backward in time for her. She would miss her independence. |
| 3977 |
Already on the first floor, they liked the feeling of the house. They communicated it to each other with a nod and a smile. It was inviting and warm. The ceilings were high, and there were attractive antique sconces on the walls. There was plenty of light. And even for a tall person like Candy, the scale felt right. |
| 3978 |
The kitchen was modern enough, serviceable, and there was a nice round table in it, big enough for eight or ten to eat at, and it opened out into the garden, which was friendly and unkempt. There were two deck chairs, a patio, and a built in barbecue that looked well used. Sabrina knew that Chris would like that. |
| 3979 |
It wasn't like walking into a magazine. It was a home, and it wasn't overcrowded. Some of her furniture would fit, and she liked a lot of what they had. She might even put her own things into storage if they took it. The house had a great feeling, and she could see why the owner loved it and wanted it back. |
| 3980 |
So far it was a winner. The bedrooms were small, as they'd been warned, but adequate with pretty windows, and good curtains in pastel silks with elegant tassels and tie backs. There was a king size bed in every room, which Candy loved, and the others would too, particularly if they had men in their lives. |
| 3981 |
It was friendlier and warmer. Her penthouse was sophisticated and showy, and cold in many ways. It looked like a magazine shoot, not a home. Candy already felt more at ease here. It was the kind of place that made you want to curl up in a big, comfy chair and stick around. It had a wonderful vibe to it. |
| 3982 |
She was afraid she would be too hot in the car, and she was company for Beulah, who had stayed in the country too. Sabrina hadn't wanted to scare the realtor with a bigger dog. And Beulah got carsick, so she wasn't fun to drive around. Sabrina confirmed with the realtor that the owner had no problem with dogs. |
| 3983 |
The house had been made to order for them, in every way. Warm, cozy, pretty, comfortable, inviting, and the price was right. His furniture was better than their own, and they could have their dogs. Candy had already decided that she wanted to rent her penthouse furnished, which would make it more appealing to a tenant. |
| 3984 |
She hated the world. Sabrina and Candy stayed for another half hour and tried to jolly her out of her black mood, without success. And finally they took her at her word and left, promising to be back later, if she called them and wanted them to come back, or tomorrow. Both sisters talked about it on the way home. |
| 3985 |
She said her practice was in New York, but in special circumstances, she made exceptions and visited patients where they were. Annie's circumstances sounded special enough to her. She promised to come out on Wednesday, and was encouraged to hear that they were moving to the city in the next few weeks. |
| 3986 |
She had been highly recommended by Annie's surgeon. Sabrina left a message on Tammy's cell phone then to tell her they got the house. And she spent the rest of the afternoon returning calls and making notes. She called her office and checked in, then called her landlord about how to go about releasing her apartment. |
| 3987 |
It sounded like a fairly simple procedure to her. She explained the circumstances to them, and they were sympathetic and helpful. They didn't visit Annie again till the next day. When they got there, a nurse was walking her down the hall, and Annie didn't look happy. She sensed them before they greeted her. |
| 3988 |
And she was glad she'd called and warned him. If Annie had told him, and he'd rejected her, it would have been much worse. This way she thought she'd gotten dumped like anyone else. Rotten luck. And bad behavior on his part. But not the mortal blow of a man who no longer wanted her because she was blind. |
| 3989 |
Being there alone and blind would have been impossible for her, and she knew it. But she insisted that she didn't want to give up her apartment in Florence. Sabrina told her to discuss that with their father. It was up to him, and she knew Annie's apartment there was dirt cheap so maybe he'd let her. |
| 3990 |
It was a major double blow. She suggested, as the surgeon had, that Annie needed to join a rehab program that worked with people who had lost their sight, but she said the doctor would make those referrals before Annie came home. In the meantime, she was satisfied with what she saw. For Sabrina, that was good enough. |
| 3991 |
So, I sat home and pouted for a couple of years, and drove my family insane. I started to drink a lot, which complicated everything. My brother finally told me what a horse's ass I was, how everyone was sick of my feeling sorry for myself, and why didn't I get a job and stop punishing everyone for how miserable I was. |
| 3992 |
I had no training for any job except medicine. I got a job in an ambulance company, answering the phones. And as some kind of crazy fluke, I got another job on a suicide hotline, and I actually liked it, which led me to psychiatry. I went back to school, and studied psychiatry. And the rest is history, as they say. |
| 3993 |
She took care of her father, and tried to buoy his spirits. Candy wasn't as much help as she'd hoped. She was easily distracted, disorganized, and still too upset about their mother's death to assist in the ways Sabrina needed. In so many aspects, Candy was still a child, and now she expected Sabrina to mother her. |
| 3994 |
After her second meeting with Dr. Steinberg, Annie had told both of her sisters that if they babied her or made her feel helpless, she would move out. And both Candy and Sabrina had agreed, and said they would be respectful of her and wait until she asked for their help, unless she was about to fall down the stairs. |
| 3995 |
By the third week of July, when Annie was released from the hospital, all three girls were excited about the house and living together again, in spite of why they were moving there. Annie's first days at her father's house were difficult. Being there without their mother was newer to her than to the others. |
| 3996 |
They had already been there for three weeks without her. For Annie, it was all fresh. She knew the house perfectly, so could move around fairly easily, but in every room she expected to hear her mother's voice. She walked into her closets, and felt her clothes with her fingers and put them to her face. |
| 3997 |
The memory haunted Annie, and she spoke of it during every session with Dr. Steinberg. She couldn't get it out of her mind, nor the feeling that she should have done something to stop it, but there hadn't been time. She even dreamed of it at night, and losing Charlie after the accident just made things worse. |
| 3998 |
She needed a fresh start. But her father had agreed not to give up her apartment there for a while. Her treatment plan when she left the hospital was fairly straightforward, and the ophthalmologist explained it to Sabrina as well. Sabrina was beginning to feel more like Annie's mother than her sister. |
| 3999 |
He lost things, broke things, cut himself twice, and couldn't remember where anything was, or worse, had never known. Sabrina commented to Tammy on the phone late one night that their mother must have done everything except chew his food for him. He had been totally pampered, protected, and spoiled. |
| 4000 |
He had told her and Sabrina that it would allow Annie to become independent, and able to live successfully on her own, which was ultimately their goal. Annie had been sullen about it for days after they talked, and wandered around her father's house looking depressed. She had a white cane, but wouldn't use it. |
| 4001 |
Their father was circumspect and never appeared at breakfast without a robe, and their mother had been as well, but the girls had always drifted in and out of each other's bathrooms, looking for hair dryers, curling irons, nail polish remover, clean panty hose, and a missing bra, in various states of undress. |
| 4002 |
Her second day home, her bathtub had overflowed, and as water poured through the dining room chandelier directly below it, Sabrina realized what had happened, and ran upstairs. She pounded on the door, and Annie finally let her in. Sabrina turned the tub off for her, standing in two inches of water on the marble floor. |
| 4003 |
Annie was furious with both her sister and herself. It took two more incidents for Annie to agree to at least think about going to school in September, to learn how to deal constructively with being blind. Until then she pretended to herself that it was a temporary condition and she could deal with it on her own. |
| 4004 |
She was no longer anyone they recognized. She wouldn't even let Sabrina or Candy help her comb or brush her hair, and the second week she was home she chopped it off herself. The results were disastrous, and Sabrina found her sitting in her room, on the floor, sobbing, with her long auburn hair all around her. |
| 4005 |
She looked absolutely beautiful with her new haircut, and Sabrina told her so again. She found Annie and her father in the kitchen twenty minutes later. Annie could feel the food on the plates and rinsed them off. She did a much better job of it than their father, who wasn't blind, just helpless and spoiled. |
| 4006 |
He was weak, scared, confused, depressed, and cried all the time. Sabrina had suggested seeing a shrink to him too, and he refused, although he needed one as much as Annie, who seemed to be liking hers. She let Annie babysit for him, while she and Candy went into the city to get ready for their move. |
| 4007 |
At other times she didn't, which usually led to temper tantrums and tears. She wasn't easy to live with these days, but she had a more than valid excuse. Sabrina hoped that going to a training school for the blind would improve her attitude. If not, Annie was going to be tough to be around for a long time. |
| 4008 |
I don't even know where to stop. My father can hardly tie his shoelaces, and he does less and less every day. He refuses to go back to work. Candy looks like she just got out of Auschwitz, and Annie is going to kill herself slashing her wrists while she tries to slice the bread and won't let anybody help. |
| 4009 |
The danger is that she'll wind up sterile, lose her teeth or hair, or worse, develop a heart problem, or die. Anorexia is nothing to screw around with. But she won't listen to me. She says she doesn't want kids, she gets hair extensions so her hair looks great anyway, and so far her health doesn't seem to be affected. |
| 4010 |
And the person who always got short shrift and didn't get her needs met was her, and now him as well. They had hardly had five minutes of peace alone in the last three and a half weeks since the accident. He kept her father entertained and cooked for the entire family every weekend, and she did everything else. |
| 4011 |
Tammy had warned her that he wouldn't be, if Sabrina didn't take it easy and slow down. It was easy for her to say, living in California, three thousand miles away, while Sabrina was running the show, and picking up pieces everywhere. She felt as though their once orderly life was in tiny shards all around her. |
| 4012 |
It had the possibility of turning into some real high drama and chaos, or like sleeping in the dorm of a sorority. He wanted time alone with her and was afraid that he might not get any for the next year. It was a scary thought, but he didn't want to upset her by voicing his own fears or complaining. |
| 4013 |
She had enough on her plate as it was, and he didn't want to add to it. But like Sabrina, he was getting short shrift too. He lay down next to her on the bed, stroked her hair, and rubbed her back, and within five minutes she was sound asleep, as he lay next to her, wondering if they'd ever get married. |
| 4014 |
He wanted to get married and have a family. And one of these days he wanted her to bite the bullet and take the leap. He didn't want her to miss out on having kids because she was scared and had seen too many bad divorces and bitter custody battles through her work. That was no excuse to shortchange them. |
| 4015 |
His worst fear was that normal would never come their way again, and her sisters would become her life. When Sabrina woke up in the morning, he was gone. He'd had an early breakfast meeting with the associate counsel on his case, to bring him up to speed. He had left her a note, telling her to take it easy. |
| 4016 |
She had been up till two in the morning, helping Annie pack, and finishing some work she'd brought home from the office. Sabrina's work was never done. And now she was extremely tired, and they hadn't even started. The movers were coming at eight, to deliver everything they had picked up the day before. |
| 4017 |
By one o'clock they had unloaded the truck, and spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking the boxes and crates. By six o'clock, there were things everywhere, dishes, books, paintings, clothes. The place was a total mess, and Sabrina was trying to put her belongings away where she wanted them, with Chris's help. |
| 4018 |
Sabrina called her father and told him they were going to spend the night in the city, at the new house, to deal with the mess. He said he and Annie were fine. He said he was cooking dinner for her, which meant frozen egg rolls and instant soup. Sabrina smiled. He sounded better than he had all week. |
| 4019 |
They were all children again. For now, it was the best any of them could do. Chris was carrying a huge box of games upstairs to the top floor playroom, when she crossed him on the stairs, as she was coming down. He blew her a kiss and said the place was looking great. It would, she knew, but it wasn't yet. |
| 4020 |
They still had a long way to go, and days of work. And they were supposed to move in officially the following night. She was thinking of asking Candy and Annie to wait a week to move in, so she and Chris could finish the job. Annie couldn't manage, with boxes all over the place and everything a mess. |
| 4021 |
Candy said she'd be back later. They were going to Cipriani downtown, and probably clubbing, Sabrina guessed. Candy hadn't been out with friends in a while, and it had been a tough few weeks. She didn't begrudge her the relief, and she wasn't much help anyway. It was easier not having her underfoot. |
| 4022 |
It was the first time in a month that Chris felt he had her full attention, and that for an hour at least she belonged to him again. It was sheer heaven and gave him hope that their life might return to normal again one day. He couldn't help but wonder when. In Connecticut, her father had made Annie dinner. |
| 4023 |
Her father went to answer it, while Annie waited in the kitchen. She could hear a woman's voice talking to her father and the words "What a surprise," from her father, but she didn't pay any attention to it, until she finished her Dove bar, and followed the voices to see what he was doing and who it was. |
| 4024 |
She wished that she could have seen her and evaluated the situation herself. She made a mental note to mention it to Sabrina when she came home. She didn't like the idea of women going after their father. Particularly not girls like Leslie Thompson, if she was anything like what she'd been when they were kids. |
| 4025 |
And afterward they both went upstairs. Annie was excited about the new house and moving in the next day. It was too quiet here, and she felt isolated. It was going to be nice to be in the city, even if her movements were still limited and she couldn't go out on her own. It was going to be a refreshing change. |
| 4026 |
And Chris had gone to a baseball game with friends that day, after spending the first night in the new house with Sabrina. They were comfortable in her room, and loved the bed, which was enormous, much better than her old one, which was queen size, lumpy, and too hard. The one in their new house was a dream. |
| 4027 |
They had fun in the country, it was company for him, and she and Annie were going to be busy moving in, and so was Candy. She had enough on her plate at the moment without worrying about the dogs. Her father said he'd be delighted to babysit his grand dogs, and she and Annie drove back to the city after lunch. |
| 4028 |
They all decided to go out to dinner, and went downtown to a little neighborhood Italian place in the Twenties. Annie didn't want to go initially, but they insisted she come with them. It was the first time she'd been to a restaurant since the accident. She wore dark glasses and kept a tight grip on Candy's arm. |
| 4029 |
You're twenty six years old. You're smart, beautiful, talented, well educated, well traveled, and fun to be with. Any guy would be lucky to go out with you, whether you have your sight or not. You have enough other attributes to make up for that. Any man worth a damn won't care if you can see or not. |
| 4030 |
Her sisters and father were happy to see Tammy. They stayed up late that night, as they always did when they got together and hadn't seen each other for a while. Tammy had been gone for nearly six weeks. The time had flown for all of them. In the morning Chris came out, and it was an easy, fun weekend. |
| 4031 |
They played Scrabble, liar's dice, and read the Sunday paper. But Annie could do none of it, and at one point Sabrina saw the look on her face, and motioned to the others to put the games away. Annie knew instantly what they'd done and why, and insisted it didn't bother her, but it was obvious that it did. |
| 4032 |
After that she left, and came back here. I think it only happened last year. She said the divorce was just final. But that may be why she felt badly about your mom. She knows what it's like to lose someone now. The baby was only five months old, long enough to fall in love with him, and then he's gone. |
| 4033 |
The rest of the weekend sped by too quickly, and they all left on Monday morning, so they could show Tammy the house in town. Their father looked sad when he waved goodbye, and Candy and Annie promised to come back soon, and this time they took their dogs with them, since they were settled into the house. |
| 4034 |
Sabrina's things looked pretty spread around the house, and she and Annie had gone to buy a carful of plants. The basic bones of the house were good, and the decor was charming, as the realtor had said. And when Tammy saw the small bedroom across from Sabrina's, she fell in love with it. Everything in it was pink. |
| 4035 |
Beulah had been running up and down the stairs, and Zoe was barking at everyone, delighted to have them all under one roof. Annie was less delighted at the constant barking right outside her room. She came out to shout at Zoe, and fell over her, as she got tangled in Annie's feet. Annie fell flat on her face. |
| 4036 |
It was too late to call her sisters again. When she turned her cell phone on, Tammy had a message from each of them, and as she walked into her house that night, she had never felt so lonely in her life, or so far away. Living in Los Angeles had always been perfect for her. She had been there since college. |
| 4037 |
But there was just no way she could. She loved her house, her job, and the career she had established here, but suddenly she felt cut off from all of them and as though she was letting them down. Even Juanita looked unhappy to be home. She lay down on Tammy's bed and whined. She missed the other dogs. |
| 4038 |
She dreamed of them all night, in the house in New York. She was exhausted the next morning when she went to work. And as usual, all hell broke loose the day after the holiday weekend. Sound technicians were having problems, directors were complaining, actors were throwing tantrums and threatening to quit. |
| 4039 |
Or at least the first part of the day was. She had liked Tammy's suggestion, passed on by Sabrina, and had taken a cab to the school, which was in the West Village, a lively neighborhood these days, but a long way from where they lived. Traffic was terrible getting there, and she was late when she arrived. |
| 4040 |
And as she said it to her, Sabrina fell over Candy's dog. "This place is a madhouse," she said, as she went upstairs to finish getting dressed. She was late for her office, and had to be in court that afternoon, on a motion to suppress in a nasty divorce she hadn't wanted to take in the first place. |
| 4041 |
By the time Annie had listened to the whole list, her head was spinning. According to them, about the only things she wouldn't be able to do after six months at the Parker School were drive a car and fly a plane. There was even an exercise class and a swimming team, and an Olympicsize pool with lanes. |
| 4042 |
She had no idea what he looked like, tall or short, fat or thin, black or white or Asian. All she knew was that she liked him, they were both artists, and he was going to be her friend. They were both exhausted by the end of the day. She asked him if he needed a ride home, if he lived uptown and was on her way. |
| 4043 |
Two blind artists in a sea of people. There were eight hundred adults in the school. There was a youth section, but there were far more adults. And it was thought to be one of the best training schools for the blind in the world. They both suddenly felt lucky to be there, when it had seemed like a punishment before. |
| 4044 |
She wouldn't have dared to call him Brad. She had no idea how old he was. But as the founder of the school, she had to assume he wasn't very young, and he sounded like he was a man, not a boy like Baxter, so she couldn't kid around, and didn't want to seem rude. As they spoke, the guide came back inside to get her. |
| 4045 |
Tammy's week went from bad to worse. Problems with actors, problems with the network, problems with the unions and the scripts. By the end of the week, she was a total mess. And she felt guiltier every day for not being with her sisters to help deal with the aftermath of her mother's death. Her father sounded terrible. |
| 4046 |
None of it seemed fair. And now with Annie to take care of, and their father to visit whenever she could, she felt as though she hardly had time to see Chris. He slept at the house a few times a week, but she said she barely had time to talk to him. All of the responsibilities were on her shoulders, and no one else's. |
| 4047 |
And even when she had been at home, Candy was too young and immature to really help. She was twenty one going on twelve, or six. Tammy spent a long, quiet, reflective weekend. The show was shut down because of the strike, and they already knew they weren't going to be able to shoot the following week because of it. |
| 4048 |
It was the scariest thing she'd ever done. On Monday morning, she made an appointment with the senior executive producer of the show for later that afternoon. And another appointment with the head of the network the following day. She wanted to speak to them both. She owed it to them, and to herself. |
| 4049 |
She looked somber when she walked into the senior executive producer's office, and he smiled as he looked up. "Don't look so depressed. The strike can't last forever. We'll settle it in a couple of weeks, and get back on track." His view was more optimistic than what she'd been hearing around the show. |
| 4050 |
For now anyway. And she might never get a decent job again. She knew that as she left his office, but she truly felt she had no choice. Her meeting with the head of the network the next day was less emotional. He was angry at first, and then resigned. He thought that what Tammy was doing was a crazy thing to do. |
| 4051 |
Tammy pointed out that that was true, but it might help support her through a terrible time, and the others who were with her. He could see her point, but it was not the decision he would have made. Which was why he was the head of the network, and she wasn't. But Tammy also knew that his home life was a mess. |
| 4052 |
So maybe from a career standpoint, he was right. But personally, she wouldn't have traded her life for his. She'd rather screw up her career than let her sisters down. And maybe one day there would be another opportunity for her, even at a different network. For now, she just had to trust the fates. |
| 4053 |
She packed quietly over the next two weeks. She had decided not to rent her house. For now, she could afford to keep it as it was, and just close it. She had been careful with her money, and had plenty set aside, even if she didn't work for the next year, although she was planning to look for something in New York. |
| 4054 |
You never knew what might turn up. And with luck, she'd be back here in a year. So she wasn't going to sell anything, or make any more brutal changes than she already had. At least she still had her house if not her job. Her last day at work was heartbreaking for her. Everyone cried when she left, and so did Tammy. |
| 4055 |
Tammy's arrival at the house changed the dynamics considerably. She was another responsible adult to share the burdens with Sabrina, which was precisely why she'd come. It made things more crowded than before, even though Candy was still away. And they all knew that when she got back, it would be even crazier. |
| 4056 |
They were all crowded around the breakfast table, and were sharing scones, pains au chocolat, and blueberry muffins. The three older sisters were sharing them, and Chris had already eaten several. Candy hadn't touched a single one. They all had noticed, and also that she had lost more weight on her trip. |
| 4057 |
One was a woman who had worked in a hotel for ten years, and didn't mind working for several people. She was only available twice a week however, which wasn't enough. Tammy thought they needed someone every day. With four of them living there, and Chris some of the time, there was just too much to do. |
| 4058 |
Mrs. Shibata arrived promptly for the interview and was wearing a kimono. As it turned out, she didn't totally "not speak English," she said about ten words that she repeated frequently, whether appropriate or not. She did in fact look immaculately clean, and she left her shoes politely at the door when she got there. |
| 4059 |
The only problem was that she had fed them seaweed, left over from the lunch she'd brought, of pungent pickles, seaweed, and raw fish, all of which smelled awful, and the seaweed made the dogs violently sick. Tammy spent more time cleaning up the mess they made than she would have cleaning the house. |
| 4060 |
Which was comforting, since no one else did. Problem number one was solved, but now Tammy had to solve a more important problem before she could look for a job. She and Sabrina had agreed that something had to be done about Candy's eating disorder before it destroyed her, so they confronted her that night. |
| 4061 |
She said there was nothing wrong with her eating, and they just didn't see her eat, and what she ate was healthy. For a canary maybe, or a hamster, but not a woman who stood six feet one in bare feet. They assured her that she didn't need to get fat to please them, and no, they weren't jealous of her. |
| 4062 |
Candy and Sabrina were working, and Annie was going to school. She was the only one of the sisters who had nothing important to do, except be there at night when they all came home. She felt like a housewife, and as though she was losing her identity. Project number three took a lot more time than projects one and two. |
| 4063 |
Professionally, it would be embarrassing to be associated with the show, but the ratings were good, and they were desperate for a producer. The one they'd started with had just quit for a prime time show on network TV. They couldn't believe that someone with Tammy's credentials was actually willing to talk to them. |
| 4064 |
It had started to slide a little, although much to Tammy's amazement, their ratings were still strong, and the concept mesmerized their viewers. The show seemed to represent or even mirror the problems people had in their relationships, from cheating to impotence, emotional abuse, or intrusive mothers in law. |
| 4065 |
Substance abuse and delinquent children also seemed to be high on the list of what caused people problems and brought them to the show. It was a slice of life, and everything you didn't want to know about other people's relationships and lives. Except the audience apparently did. The Nielsen ratings said so. |
| 4066 |
Although most of them were badly behaved, which the audience preferred. They had an excellent conversation, and she had to admit she liked him, although the associate producer was a jerk and had an attitude about her. He was defending his turf, wanted the senior job himself, and was not being considered for it. |
| 4067 |
He was hoping she was. He already knew he wanted her. He wasn't interviewing anyone else, and he said as much to her. He gave her several tapes of the show, and asked her to think about it and get back to him. They didn't want to mess with something that worked. And he wanted her to respect that too. |
| 4068 |
She appeared more accepting of her situation than she had been at first, and was noticeably less angry. And Tammy liked to think that being surrounded by her sisters, who loved her so passionately, was doing her good too. She watched the rest of the tapes alone in her room that night. Some were better, others worse. |
| 4069 |
She wasn't someone who wanted to stay idle, and spend her life going shopping, or having lunch with friends. She had no friends in New York, and her sisters were all working. She wanted to be too. Irving said that if they could come to an agreement quickly, he wanted her to come in the following week. |
| 4070 |
Candy was on shoots every day once she got back from Europe. The intervention over her eating disorder had helped a little. She had never been bulimic, she just didn't eat, and was anorexic. But she was doing better, and was on weekly weigh ins that Sabrina monitored diligently, and called the doctor to check on. |
| 4071 |
They got together on weekends sometimes, and talked about art, their opinions, the things they thought were important about it, the work they had seen and loved. She talked to him for hours about the Uffizi in Florence, and instead of being angry now, she said she was grateful to have seen it before she went blind. |
| 4072 |
She had fed Beulah cat food once, and she'd been at the vet for a week, which cost them a fortune. And she still sneaked seaweed into their diet from time to time. Annie was home more than the others, and came home earlier from school than they did from work, so Sabrina assigned her the task. And Annie was outraged. |
| 4073 |
She even bitched at her for spilling the dog food in the pantry and leaving a mess, and told her to clean it up before they got rats or mice in the house. Annie had been in tears over it, and didn't speak to Sabrina for two days, but she was becoming more and more independent and capable of taking care of herself. |
| 4074 |
It was a big deal for her to go out to dinner once a week with them, which they all agreed wasn't enough for her, but they didn't know how to solve the problem. And Annie insisted she liked staying home. She was starting to read in braille, and spent hours with her headphones on, listening to music and dreaming. |
| 4075 |
She needed people and parties, and places to go to, girlfriends and a man in her life, but it wasn't happening, and her sisters feared it never would. She didn't say it to them, but so did she. Her life was as over as her father's, who sat in his house in Connecticut, crying for his late wife most of the time. |
| 4076 |
He was in Florida half the week, and played golf whenever he could. He was tired, and wanted to retire early, but the show was a cash cow for him. When Tammy tried to discuss its problems with him, he waved her out of his office, and told her she had dealt with bigger problems in her last show, just deal with it. |
| 4077 |
Tammy actually got their staff psychologist into some attractive beige suits by major designers, some more modest silk dresses where her gigantic tits weren't spilling onto her knees, and she suddenly looked like an authority in her field, and not a guy in drag. Her look had been very Cage aux Folles before that. |
| 4078 |
He was fifty five years old, had been divorced four times, had caps on his teeth the size of Chiclets, and a terrible hair weave he had done in Mexico. He had been a minor actor on soaps in his youth, and was a bodybuilder. From a distance, he was decent looking, but from up close he was terrifying. |
| 4079 |
He was probably a perfectly nice human being, just unattractive and creepy. Her specialty. Men like him were the only ones who ever asked her out, on either coast. She told her sisters about it that night as they were doing the dishes after dinner. Annie was rinsing and putting them in the dishwasher. |
| 4080 |
She always felt that way when married men asked her out, as though she were a cheap slut, that they could have a good time with and then go home to their wives. If she ever wound up with anyone, which was beginning to seem unlikely, she wanted it to be her own man, not one she had stolen or borrowed from someone else. |
| 4081 |
So many people saw her naked or at least topless during couture shows or on shoots that she didn't really care. But he did. And although he loved them, their flock of dogs occasionally got on his nerves. That and the lack of privacy, with Tammy now living on the same floor. That was challenging for him at times. |
| 4082 |
The only thing that unsettled all of them was the man Candy came home with in early November, when she got back from a three day shoot in Hawaii. Sabrina said she had read about him. Tammy had never heard of him, and Annie said he gave her a creepy feeling, but since she couldn't see him, she couldn't pinpoint why. |
| 4083 |
He had a famous mother who had been a well known Italian actress. And he had a title. Princes were in high demand in lofty social circles, and made people overlook a multitude of sins. He had come to the house several times to pick Candy up, and treated her sisters like the maids who opened the door. |
| 4084 |
He looked thinner too. Tammy asked him if he felt all right, with a look of concern. He said he did, but he seemed quiet and lonely and grateful to see the girls. They went through their mother's things that weekend, at his suggestion, took the clothes they wanted, and he was going to donate the rest. |
| 4085 |
It was a family weekend, which was important to them, especially this year. It was Saturday when Tammy came across a pair of women's sneakers in the room off the kitchen where her mother used to arrange flowers. They were a size nine, and her mother had worn a size six. And they didn't belong to any of the girls. |
| 4086 |
Things were slightly more complicated that day because it had snowed the night before, which made the ground slippery and treacherous, and this time she slid on an ice patch in front of the school and wound up on her bottom instead of her knees. But unlike the first time, when she was near tears, this time she laughed. |
| 4087 |
He sounded happy, she decided, and nice. In a fatherly sort of way. She wondered how old he was. She had the feeling he wasn't young, but she couldn't ask. He took her upstairs to a storeroom with racks of clothes in it. They donated them to some of their scholarship students, or used them for incidents like this. |
| 4088 |
She heaved a sigh as she came through the door, took off her boots, and said she was exhausted when she saw Annie, and asked her how her day was. "It was fine." She didn't tell her that she had fallen. She didn't want her to worry, and they got nervous about things like that, and worried that she might hit her head. |
| 4089 |
Sabrina wished she had asked her for Marcello's phone number, but she hadn't, only his address, and she couldn't drop by to ask him where her sister was. Candy would have gone insane. He lived in a good neighborhood at least, if that meant anything. And at midnight they still hadn't heard a word from her. |
| 4090 |
It was unlike Candy to just disappear like that and not check in. They didn't know what to do. And then Tammy remembered that there was a hotline at her agency to call anytime day or night, for models who had problems. Some of them were still very young, came from other cities or countries, and needed help or advice. |
| 4091 |
But he was doing it for Sabrina. The door was open wide by then. Chris stepped into the apartment so he couldn't close the door on them, and towered over Marcello, with at least fifty pounds and a lot of toned muscle to his advantage. Marlene stepped in beside him and didn't pull any punches with him. |
| 4092 |
It was too late. She had opened the door to the bedroom, guessing accurately where it was, and found Candy unconscious, with tape over her mouth, and her arms and legs tied to a four poster bed with rope. She looked dead. And Marcello looked totally panicked as the others followed Marlene into the room. |
| 4093 |
As they could well imagine, she had been raped. Her bruises were superficial, nothing was broken, and she had been heavily drugged. They said it would take another twenty four hours for her to come around, and then they could take her home. They had taken photographs of all her bruises for the police files. |
| 4094 |
But they said there would be no lasting physical damage, only the emotional trauma she had sustained, which was undoubtedly considerable. The only good news was that the doctor assumed she had been unconscious for most of what had been done to her, so she would have no memory of it, which was a mercy. |
| 4095 |
But there was nothing to remember, no painful or frightening memories. All she had were the bruises, which slowly faded away. But her sisters would never forget what they had seen when they found her, nor would Chris. They were all deeply grateful to Marlene for responding so quickly, and being so brave. |
| 4096 |
Despite what had happened, Candy was a very lucky girl. And much to everyone's relief, relative to other equally appalling charges, Marcello was deported and extradited to Italy by the end of the week. Marlene had used her connections to speed the process. There would be no scandal, no court appearances, no press. |
| 4097 |
And then he did something he never did. He had a hard and fast rule but broke it for her. He had been thinking of her since the day he had helped her find dry jeans. She was such a pleasant, intelligent, nice girl, and seemed very mature for her age. And she'd been through so much this year. More than he knew. |
| 4098 |
Annie was startled at first, and didn't know what else to say, so she said yes. She didn't want to be rude to him, and he was the head of her school, after all. She felt like a kid when he asked. But Annie was no kid anymore. She had grown up immeasurably this year, and had been on her own before that. |
| 4099 |
Her bruises were healing, and she was in fairly decent spirits, considering what had happened. And they were all looking forward to Christmas. Mostly it was a relief to know that Marcello was gone and she wouldn't run into him anywhere. Marlene was also delighted. He was a danger to any woman he encountered. |
| 4100 |
And he was right, the desserts were fantastic. She had something called a frozen mochaccino, which was chocolate ice cream, ice, and coffee all blended together, with whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top. He had an apricot smush, which was a fabulous confection, and they shared a piece of pecan pie. |
| 4101 |
He said just for a minute, he still had Christmas shopping to do that afternoon. Annie had been stumped about how to do that this year, and was planning to ask her sisters to help. He walked into the house, as Mrs. Shibata was vacuuming loudly, and Candy had her music on so loud, you could hardly hear. |
| 4102 |
Brad couldn't stop himself from staring at Candy. He had never seen a woman so beautiful in all his life. And she was completely relaxed and in no way stuck up. She was just like any other girl her age, only a hundred times more beautiful. Except that in her own way, he thought Annie was just as beautiful. |
| 4103 |
He called her the next day and invited her to dinner three days later, before she left for Connecticut for Christmas with her father. Annie hesitated for a second, and then accepted. It was a little scary dating someone you couldn't see. But she liked him, and they shared a wealth of common opinions and ideas. |
| 4104 |
Both her older sisters felt that way about their work, and she had about her art. It hadn't precluded romance in her life, but it had in Tammy's case and even in Sabrina's, to some extent. They were both workaholics, and maybe he was too. You paid a high price for that, and sometimes wound up alone. |
| 4105 |
But he could see how beautiful she was, and she touched his heart with her openness and sincerity. There was no artifice about her. "You'll find something," he said gently. She was industrious, hardworking, passionate, and smart. There was no way she wasn't going to find the right path sooner or later. |
| 4106 |
He wasn't worried about her at all. They ordered dinner and kept on chatting. They sat at the table until the restaurant closed and then he walked her home. She didn't invite him in this time, because it was late, and she didn't feel ready to do that. And her sisters were probably in their pajamas and relaxing. |
| 4107 |
The sisters all left for Connecticut together the next day. Chris came with them, and they all went to midnight mass together with their father. It was a solemn moment thinking about their mother, after going to mass with her in that same church every year. Tammy looked over and saw that her father was crying. |
| 4108 |
It was a tender moment full of memories and love, and in its own way filled with hope. They were still together and had each other, whatever happened. The weather was cold in Connecticut, and it snowed several times over the weekend. The girls and Chris got into snowball fights, and they built a snowman. |
| 4109 |
She knew he hated being alone, and at the end of lunch, he cleared his throat uncomfortably, and said he had something to tell them. Tammy was afraid he was going to say that he was selling the house and moving into the city. She loved this house and didn't want him to sell it. She hoped that wasn't it. |
| 4110 |
He was twenty six years older than the woman he was planning to marry seven months after his wife's death, and he expected his children to be happy for him. That was not going to happen, not in a hundred million years. Tammy stood up with a look of outrage, and so did Sabrina as Candy walked back into the room. |
| 4111 |
Sabrina cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher, and as soon as she finished, they said goodbye to their father. Without commenting further on his announcement, they left his house and drove home to New York. The explosions in the car were extreme all the way home. Tammy swore she'd never see him again. |
| 4112 |
Sabrina was afraid he had Alzheimer's and Leslie was taking full advantage of him. Candy said she was losing her father to a slut and cried all the way to the city. And Annie quietly said he was the biggest fool that ever lived, and there was no way on earth that anyone would ever convince her to go to the wedding. |
| 4113 |
None of them spoke to their father for the rest of the week. All of them were off work, so they had plenty of time to talk about it. No matter how they turned it around in their minds, they were outraged on their mother's behalf, hated Leslie's guts, and were furious with their father. And they got more so every day. |
| 4114 |
He and Chris had a good time talking before, during, and after dinner, and the biggest surprise of the evening was Candy's friend from L.A. He was probably the most famous young actor on the planet at the time, and it turned out that they had met three years before on a shoot and become good friends. |
| 4115 |
He always hung out with her when he came in from L.A. There was nothing romantic between them, and he was great company. He had them laughing hysterically through most of the evening, and Brad couldn't believe the sort of people who dropped in at their house. Annie insisted she hadn't even known her sister knew him. |
| 4116 |
He asked her to come upstairs with him shortly after midnight, and the others never saw them again. When Chris closed the door to Sabrina's bedroom, he kissed her. Privacy was hard won in their house. He had brought with him two glasses and a bottle of champagne he'd bought himself. Sabrina smiled at him. |
| 4117 |
She knew she could count on Chris to be there for her, no matter what. And as he kissed her, he took a small box out of his pocket, held her close to him, opened it with one hand, and slipped a ring on her finger. She didn't know what he was doing at first, and then she realized and looked down to see it. |
| 4118 |
It was just one more shock. And she had had far too many in far too short a time. From their mother's death to Annie's blindness, the assault on Candy, and now her father marrying a girl half his age whom they had always thought of as a slut it was just too much. She wasn't prepared to marry him. She wasn't ready. |
| 4119 |
He turned as he stood in the doorway. "You know, I think your father is a fool to do what he's doing, especially so soon after your mother died, and with a woman younger than you. But however stupid it may seem to us, at least you've got to respect the guy for having the balls to take a chance." Sabrina nodded. |
| 4120 |
For her, what they had now was enough. More would be too much. They were all depressed about it when they heard what had happened, but no one as much as Sabrina. She really did love him, but she just didn't want to get married, and those things couldn't be forced, even with a lovely ring, and a great guy. |
| 4121 |
They always had a nice time. He had talked her into taking the sculpture class, and she was actually enjoying it. And even without being able to see what she was doing, her work was surprisingly good. He told her about a lecture series he was trying to organize, centered on cultural things, theater, music, and art. |
| 4122 |
She told him about Annie, and losing her mother in July, and then she told him that her father was getting married in two weeks, to a girl who was thirty three years old. "Wow, that's heavy," he said, looking sympathetic. His parents had gotten divorced when he was ten, and both of them were remarried. |
| 4123 |
It was a relief when Paul invited Candy to visit him at Brown two weeks later. He was having a show of his photographic work. It was a great weekend for both of them, and she loved meeting his friends. They were startled when they realized who she was, but for once everyone treated her like just another kid. |
| 4124 |
They were having a million problems on the show. Their host's contract was up and he wanted double the money. He'd been shot once and assaulted twice. He felt he deserved combat pay for being on the show, and he wasn't wrong. The trouble was the audience loved him, which gave him a choke hold on them now. |
| 4125 |
He was obviously hurt by their reaction, and they were horrified by what he was doing. They all felt he was betraying their mother. It had been five weeks since any of them had spoken to him, which had never happened before. "Maybe one of us should call him," Sabrina suggested, but no one volunteered. |
| 4126 |
In the end, after hours of discussion, they decided to invite him to the house for a drink. It was less stressful than sitting through a meal in a restaurant, with strangers all around them. As the oldest, they appointed Sabrina to call him. She was hesitant and nervous when she called the house in Connecticut. |
| 4127 |
And this is our life, not yours. I don't interfere with what you do. I don't tell Sabrina that she should be married, that Chris is a great guy, and she should be doing something about it, if she wants kids. I don't tell Tammy that she should stop working on all these crazy shows and find a decent guy. |
| 4128 |
And a short while later, he left. The meeting had gone better than any of them had hoped. He was marrying her, but at least he and his children were talking again, and he wasn't expecting them to embrace her with open arms, or even see her for a while. He was hoping they'd get used to the idea in time. |
| 4129 |
Or as foolish. She didn't see how his marriage to Leslie could ever work. But she wished him well. Even though she thought the way he had gone about it was a huge disrespect to their mom. But she loved him nonetheless, and she was relieved that they had talked. At least the lines of communication were open again. |
| 4130 |
All of her friends were in L.A., and she never had time to see them anyway. She was in good spirits when she went back to the office and he called her the next day just to say hello. He sent her an interoffice memo with a joke in it, and she laughed out loud at her desk. He was a nice addition to her life. |
| 4131 |
Not a bolt of lightning, which she didn't want. It was more like a quiet entrance of someone solid into the room. She felt his presence, but it didn't shake her up or unnerve her, which felt much more comfortable to her. And he wasn't on any unusual diets, and didn't belong to any cults. That in itself was a marvel. |
| 4132 |
She said very little about him to her sisters. Their contact didn't warrant it yet. She came home happy and relaxed on Saturday, tired after a game of tennis, which he had won easily. He played much better than he said, but she had held her own. And afterward they'd had lunch and gone for a walk in the park. |
| 4133 |
It was still cold, but not too much to enjoy a walk. She ran into Brad and Annie on their way out as she got home. Brad was taking her to some sort of tactile conceptual art exhibit he had read about that he thought she'd enjoy, and they were chatting animatedly. He wanted her to do another lecture at the school. |
| 4134 |
They were solemn and uncommunicative at breakfast. They had sent their father and Leslie flowers to their hotel room, and champagne. And Sabrina had sent him the e mail about the pre nup two weeks before. He had answered, saying that he had thought of it himself and taken care of it, which reassured her. |
| 4135 |
As for Valentine celebrations, Brad was taking Annie to dinner that night. Tammy was amazed that John had asked her out for the evening. He had suggested they go to dinner and a movie, which sounded perfect to her, without seeming awkward or overly romantic to either of them, since they had just started dating. |
| 4136 |
And he was bowled over by how beautiful she looked. He was obviously crazy about her, and Annie was visibly in love with him. Things seemed to be taking a serious turn. By nine o'clock, Sabrina was alone, and she sat at the kitchen table, staring at her soup, thinking of Chris, and wondering how it had come to this. |
| 4137 |
Tammy was convinced she was with Chris, and they didn't want to call. She and Chris both went back to the house in the morning, looking a little sheepish, but happy to be together again. Her sisters threw their arms around him and hugged him, like their long lost brother. It was a happy reunion for them all. |
| 4138 |
They wanted big name actresses in it, and important visiting actors on the show. They already had sponsors for it, and they wanted Tammy to produce it. It was just like what she had done in Los Angeles, only bigger and better. It was exactly what she would have wanted, if she had dreamed it up herself. |
| 4139 |
It was a fabulous opportunity. She accepted it immediately. They wanted it on the air by the following spring, which meant she would be staying in the city, even after they gave up the house. And she realized it probably meant she would sell her house in L.A. now, and buy something here. A brownstone of her own. |
| 4140 |
And in a way, she'd miss some of the people she'd worked with. The show had served her well, kept her busy, made her some decent money, and it had only taken six months for something better to come along. The new show was the biggest opportunity of her career. And when she told John, he was ecstatic for her. |
| 4141 |
She wasn't enthusiastic about it, but she said she'd try it. She had picked out her own chocolate lab, and would graduate in May with the dog. Baxter left school at the end of March, but they promised to stay in touch. He had become a very special friend, and had made school better for her right from the first. |
| 4142 |
Annie's graduation from school was very moving, and was attended by everyone's family and friends. Annie had done a huge amount of work toward her diploma, and was doing well with the dog, although they still needed to do some more work. She had asked her father to attend the graduation, preferably without his wife. |
| 4143 |
Their father with a new baby was a daunting prospect. He seemed so old to have more children. It was lucky that Leslie was young. They had had no contact with her since she came to drop off her pie. She certainly got a lot of mileage out of a single apple pie and a porcelain plate that had to be returned. |
| 4144 |
The girls were unsure if they were right about her or not. They hoped that they were wrong, and their father right. In the meantime, they wished him well. But things were not quite back to normal. They all realized, as did their father, that it would take time. They loved their father just as they always had. |
| 4145 |
The boat was well staffed with an efficient crew, and from the brochure it looked like a beautiful boat. There was a captain, two crew members, and four cabins for them. It was going to be a memorable trip. And two days before they picked the boat up in Newport, Tammy was shaken to the core by an offer she got. |
| 4146 |
She told John about it after she made the decision, and he was enormously relieved. Their relationship had flourished for the past six months. Tammy was happier than she had been in years. The freaks and weirdos in her life were history. She couldn't believe she'd actually found the right man at last. |
| 4147 |
Their landlord had fallen in love with Vienna, his research project was taking longer than planned, and he wondered if they wanted to keep the house until the end of the year, and extend their lease by another five months. They had a serious family discussion about it, and regretfully Sabrina bowed out. |
| 4148 |
She couldn't do that to Chris she had promised to move in with him on the first of August. He had been patient for so long that she didn't dare ask him to extend it. Candy's tenant was moving out of the penthouse, and she was thinking of going back there, but it was tempting to stay on at the house. |
| 4149 |
This was a much better way to spend their mother's anniversary. Together, among people they loved, in a different setting than the place they'd been the year before when the accident happened. On the morning of the Fourth, the girls held a quiet ceremony on deck, and each of them threw a single flower into the water. |
| 4150 |
At their age, marriage was the farthest thing from their minds. They just wanted to hang out with each other and have a good time, as they had been for the past five months. As they sat on the boat, the four women looked at each other. They didn't have to say anything. They were thinking of their mother. |
| 4151 |
She had impeccably groomed shoulder length brown hair, beautiful skin, huge brown eyes, a trim figure, perfectly done nails, and she was wearing a navy linen suit that looked as though she had bought it in Paris. She wore high heeled navy blue shoes, a navy Chanel bag, and everything about her was perfection. |
| 4152 |
She selected two small steaks, two baking potatoes, some fresh asparagus, some fruit, and some yogurt, remembering too easily the days when her shopping cart had been filled with treats for the children. She always pretended to disapprove, but couldn't resist buying the things they saw on TV and said they wanted. |
| 4153 |
And as it turned out, Alyssa and Todd were good looking, bright and shining in every way, outstanding in and out of school, and basically very decent people. Bill had teased them ever since they were young, and told them that he expected them to be the perfect kids, he and their mother were counting on it in fact. |
| 4154 |
There was nothing showy or ostentatious about their way of life, it was all beautifully done, meticulously handled. You couldn't see the seams in anything Mary Stuart did. She made it all look effortless, although most people realized it couldn't be as easy as she made it seem. But that was her gift to him. |
| 4155 |
Her children had always been the smartest, the most accomplished, the most beautiful. Her husband was enormously successful, both financially and in terms of the prestige he earned in winning highly visible, landmark international cases. He was highly respected in business, as well as in their social world. |
| 4156 |
When one sensed that about her, divining her with the heart rather than the eyes, it seemed strange and unlikely, and made one question one's own intuitions about her. There was no reason to suspect that Mary Stuart Walker was lonely or sad, and yet if one looked hard enough at her, one knew she was. |
| 4157 |
In winter, she looked welldressed despite the brutal cold and the layers everyone wore, the boots against the snow and slush, the hats and the scarves and the earmuffs. And in summer, when everyone else looked frazzled in the deadly heat, she looked calm and cool and unruffled. She was just one of those people. |
| 4158 |
Despite the cool way she looked, she was tired and hot after a long day of meetings. The museum was planning an enormous fund raising drive in the fall, they were hoping to give a huge ball in September, and they wanted her to be the chairman. But so far she had managed to decline, and was hoping only to advise them. |
| 4159 |
It seemed like only yesterday when the children were at home, when they had dinner together every night, with everyone talking at once about their activities, their plans, their problems. Even one of Alyssa and Todd's arguments would have been a relief now, and so much more comforting than the silence. |
| 4160 |
How your heart could break, shattered beyond repair, and yet you went on, making coffee, buying sheets, turning down beds, and attending meetings. You got up, you showered, you dressed, you went to bed, but inside a part of you had died. In years past, she had wondered how other people lived through it. |
| 4161 |
Bill wasn't coming home. Again. He did that a lot now. He worked too hard. That was how he survived. And in her own way, so did she, with her endless merry go round of meetings and committees. She turned off the oven, and decided to make herself eggs instead, but not yet, and then walked into her bedroom. |
| 4162 |
It was like being drawn into another time, and she so often wished she could go back to that earlier time, when all their problems had been simple. Todd's blond, cheery little face looked out at her from when he was a little boy and she could hear him calling her name again... or see him chasing the dog. |
| 4163 |
She had saved him then. She had always been there for him, and for Alyssa. There was a photograph of all of them three Christmases before, laughing, their arms around each other, horsing around while an exasperated photographer had begged them to be serious for a moment so he could take their picture. |
| 4164 |
It had felt good to be so silly. It always felt good to be with them. It made the sound of Alyssa's voice on the machine that night even more poignant. And then, as she always did, Mary Stuart turned away from the photographs, the little faces that both caressed and tormented her, that tore at her heart and soothed it. |
| 4165 |
It was bleak and unpopulated, and at times unbearably lonely. At times, she felt as though she had come there by herself, except that she knew Bill was there too, lost in the desert somewhere, in his own private hell. She had been searching for him there for over a year, but as yet she hadn't found him. |
| 4166 |
And she knew she probably never would be. Giving up wasn't something that fit into her scheme of things, it wasn't something she believed in. They owed each other more than that after all these years. When times got rough, you did not abandon the ship. In Mary Stuart's life, you went down with it if you had to. |
| 4167 |
If she let herself, she would see couples strolling there in the warm June air at sunset, but she didn't want to. She had nothing to say to them now, nothing to learn from them. All they brought her now was pain, and the memories of what she and Bill once shared. Perhaps they would again. Perhaps... |
| 4168 |
That was unthinkable, and prodding herself again, she went back to her papers. She worked for another hour, as the sun went down, making committee lists, and suggestions for the group she'd met with that afternoon, and when she glanced outside again, it was almost dark, and the velvet night seemed to engulf her. |
| 4169 |
Tanya had married right away, two days after graduation. She married her childhood sweetheart from her hometown in East Texas. They were married in the chapel, and it had lasted all of two years. Within a year of graduation, her meteoric career had taken off and blown her life to bits, and her marriage along with it. |
| 4170 |
She always said it a little wistfully, and Mary Stuart knew that Tanya was always aware of the price she had paid, the dues that life had collected from her in exchange for her wild success, her fantastic career. Twenty years after she'd begun, she was still the number one female singer in the country. |
| 4171 |
Mary Stuart wondered at times if she would ever have been able to cope with the pressures of the outside world. She was so delicate as to be almost unreal, and unlike the others, with their life's goals and their plans, she had been completely unrealistic, a total dreamer. She died three weeks before graduation. |
| 4172 |
Professionally, Tanya always said, he did a lot of good things for her. He made changes she could never have made on her own, set up concerts around the world for her, got her record contracts that broke all records, and pushed her from superstar to legend. After that, she could ask for just about anything she wanted. |
| 4173 |
He was a real estate developer in the Los Angeles area, and had gone out with half a dozen starlets. There was no doubt that he was impressed with Tanya's career, but even Mary Stuart, always fiercely defensive on her friend's behalf, had to admit that he was a decent guy and obviously cared deeply about her. |
| 4174 |
She had enough on her plate without negotiating with Tony about having a baby. She had two concert tours back to back in the first two years of their marriage, the tabloids were going crazy with her, and she had been battling a couple of lawsuits. It was hardly an atmosphere conducive to sanity, let alone conception. |
| 4175 |
Tanya had always worn her hair blond, and constant, careful cosmetic repair kept her looking sinfully young. She was claiming to be thirty six now, and had successfully shed the additional eight years that she and Mary Stuart had in common. But no one would have suspected from looking at her that she was lying. |
| 4176 |
She would have felt an obligation to expose her, to shine a bright light on her pain, thinking she could heal it. At least Tanya understood that she couldn't. She had her own worries now. The tabloids weren't right about the affair, but they weren't far off the mark that she and Tony were having problems. |
| 4177 |
After the first one, which had come as a terrible blow, she had called Mary Stuart in the middle of the night in hysterics. They had been there for each other a lot over the years, and by now they both felt certain that they always would be. It was the kind of friendship you don't reproduce in later life. |
| 4178 |
It had all been so easy then... at first. Until Ellie had died, just before graduation. That had been their entry into the real world, and as she thought of it, she glanced at a photograph on her night table, of the four of them in freshman year. They looked like children to her now, even younger than her own daughter. |
| 4179 |
He stood looking at her for a long time, and then turned off the light. He never spoke to her and never touched her, and she slept in her jeans all night. And when she woke the next morning, he had already gone back to the office. He had simply passed through her life once again, like the stranger he was now. |
| 4180 |
And Tony's bathroom was done entirely in black marble and granite. Black towels, black silk drapes, it was the consummate male bathroom. She had bought the house years before, and had it all redone to suit Tony when they got married. Although he was extremely successful too, she knew he loved showing off her success. |
| 4181 |
There never seemed to be any way to defend herself anymore, to prove to anyone that she was innocent, that it was all lies, and that it was a form of blackmail. She knew that her husband knew that too, and he was always the first one to tell her to settle, no matter how outrageous the claim, or the attack. |
| 4182 |
As far as she was concerned, he was just a regular guy going to work every day, and playing ball with his sons on the weekend. And she particularly liked the fact that he wasn't in "the business." What she hadn't figured on originally was that he liked all of the Hollywood trappings a lot more than she did. |
| 4183 |
He liked all of it, but he didn't like paying his dues for the lifestyle. He liked the glitter but not the price you had to pay to be there. And Tanya knew you couldn't have one without the other. In fact, Tony complained constantly about the aggravations they had to endure, and the infuriating stories in the tabloids. |
| 4184 |
Tanya knew only too well how Tony reacted to these stories. First he pretended they didn't bother him, then he got increasingly more disagreeable as the plot unfolded, and eventually he put as much pressure on her as the lawyers did to just get out of it, and settle. But through it all he acted like the injured party. |
| 4185 |
And then he turned on his heel and left. And a minute later she heard his car speeding down the driveway. She dialed her attorney, Bennett Pearson, almost as soon as Tony had left, and her attorney apologized. They had received the papers late the day before, and hadn't had time to call her and warn her. |
| 4186 |
According to her attorneys, the claim wasn't particularly unusual, but Tanya remembered that the guy was a real sleaze and would probably really stick it to her. In earlier days, she would probably have sat and cried over it. But after over twenty years, it was all too familiar, and she knew why it happened. |
| 4187 |
In Hollywood, like anywhere else, there were armies of frustrated people who were only too happy to take what they could from anyone else. It was an unusual work ethic certainly, but it was by no means unheard of. She had asked her attorney what he wanted her to do about the case, and he told her to just forget it. |
| 4188 |
It was all she'd ever wanted, maybe even more than children, just a solid, real relationship with a man who would stick around when the shit hit the fan, because it would. She had told Tony that at the beginning. And he'd been good about it, for nearly three years now, but lately he was getting testy. |
| 4189 |
The tabloids and the lawsuits and the threats and the pressure of all of it proved to be too much for any relationship with any normal human being. "Are you telling me you want out?" she asked miserably. He was not the love of her life, but she was comfortable with him, she trusted him, she loved him and his kids. |
| 4190 |
The first of many talks to begin the unraveling of their marriage. But he reached out and touched her hand when he saw the devastated look in her eyes. He felt terrible at what he was seeing. And he hated himself for doing this to her, but he had known for a while that he couldn't take it much longer. |
| 4191 |
She put on dark glasses, and Jean drove the car. She returned some of her calls from the car, and told her agent she'd do the concert tour, including Japan. She would be on the road the following year for nearly four months, but she could fly home from time to time, and she knew how important the concert tour was. |
| 4192 |
She went straight into the studio when they arrived, and stayed until six o'clock, and then she went on to the rehearsal for the benefit, and didn't get home again until eleven o'clock that evening. And when she did, she found a note from Tony on the kitchen table. He had gone to Palm Springs for the weekend. |
| 4193 |
The handwriting was on the wall, and it didn't take a clairvoyant to guess that he was on his way out. She thought about stopping him, about calling him in Palm Springs, and telling him how much she loved him, how sorry she was for all the pain she'd caused. But when she picked up the phone, she just stood there. |
| 4194 |
The only conclusion she could come to as she thought about it was that it was entirely possible Tony Goldman had never really loved her. And if that was truly the case, she would very probably never know it. She set down the phone, and with tears in her eyes, she walked quietly toward the silence of their bedroom. |
| 4195 |
The plane was waiting for her, and it was almost like having a commercial airliner all to herself. There was a company executive heading for New York onboard. He obviously knew who she was, but other than a curt hello, he said nothing more to her. And she made notes, and telephone calls, and worked on some music. |
| 4196 |
I get the glory. I suspect he's sick of it. There was a story in the paper this week by some ex employee we hired last year, the guy claims I came on to him, and then fired him when he wouldn't screw me. You know, your usual nice, homespun little story. It made the front page and embarrassed Tony with all his friends. |
| 4197 |
I should have been able to foresee disaster before it struck us. Bill bestows magical qualities on me, when it suits him. In any case, I suppose I blame myself too. It doesn't change anything. The delusion is that you can turn the clock back, and stop it from happening, if you assign the blame to the right person. |
| 4198 |
They chatted on for a little while, about Alyssa, and Tanya's next movie, and the concert tour she had signed on for the following winter. Mary Stuart could only imagine how rigorous it would be, and she admired Tanya for doing it. And then they talked about the show she was going to be on the next morning. |
| 4199 |
They hadn't gone out in months, except for business purposes, and he was working late every night now, getting ready for London. He was leaving in two weeks for the rest of the summer, but she hoped that at the end of her trip, with Alyssa, they would spend a weekend at Claridge's in London, visiting him. |
| 4200 |
He said he'd let her know how the trial was going, and if she could come over again to visit. In some ways, it didn't sound too much different to her from what Tony had said to Tanya. And perhaps it wasn't. They both seemed to be losing the men in their lives, and had no way to stop them from going. |
| 4201 |
And when she let herself in, she found him in the den, putting away some papers. She was in good spirits, and she smiled at him, as he turned to face her. And he looked startled to see her expression, as though they had both forgotten what it was like to have a good time, to be with friends, to talk to each other. |
| 4202 |
He had taken so much distance from her that she couldn't even see him anymore, much less find him. All she could hear was an echo of what had been. "I didn't see the note." It was a statement more than an accusation. And as she looked at him, she often found herself wishing he weren't still so handsome. |
| 4203 |
It was something he would never have done a year before, and it was a small thing, but it no longer mattered. "I think we're actually going to leave for London a little early." He had said nothing to her until now. He had just made his plans, and that was it, as though he no longer had to consult her. |
| 4204 |
She was tired of sitting home and grieving. Seeing Tanya had reminded her there was a whole world out there even with her own problems, and worries about Tony, her lawsuits, and the tabloids, she wasn't sitting at home, crying in the corner. It had reminded Mary Stuart that there were other options. |
| 4205 |
And Mary Stuart disappeared into the bathroom, and emerged ten minutes later in a white cotton nightgown. She could have worn chain mail or a hair shirt and he wouldn't have noticed, and she lay in bed quietly while he read, thinking about her conversation with Tanya, and the things she had said about Tony. |
| 4206 |
It seemed so unfair of him not to stand by Tanya, but she seemed resigned to his defection, and almost to expect it. Mary Stuart couldn't help wondering if Tanya should take a less accepting role, and at least try to stop him. It was so easy to look at someone else's life and decide what they should do. |
| 4207 |
In the past year, she had been completely helpless to reverse the tides, or to reach Bill at any time. He was totally beyond her reach, behind a wall of ice that grew thicker and thicker by the moment. She felt as though she hadn't really seen him in months, and she had begun to lose hope of ever reaching him again. |
| 4208 |
She had no idea what they would do about their future. And he was certainly not open to discussion about that either. She had the feeling that if she had even mentioned it to him, he would have acted as though she were crazy. As he had tonight, when she came home with a lighter step, and a smile on her face. |
| 4209 |
All they wanted was sensationalism, not substance. She was sick of all of them by the time she called Jean that afternoon, and found out that she was once again all over the L.A. papers, and there was something in the tabloids about her husband spending a weekend in Palm Springs with an unidentified starlet. |
| 4210 |
Jean read the L.A. piece about the lawsuit to her, and Tanya had to fight back tears as she listened. The ex bodyguard was claiming that she had taunted him repeatedly by strolling around the house naked when they were alone, which would have made her laugh, if she hadn't been so distressed by the story. |
| 4211 |
But she declined Jean's offer to read the tabloid story about him to her. She went out and bought it herself after she hung up, and it was a beauty. There was a photograph of him trying to hide from a photographer, and a picture of a young actress Tanya knew, who couldn't have been a day over twenty. |
| 4212 |
These days you could never be sure about pictures. But she didn't like it anyway, and although at first she resisted, she eventually called him at the office. She caught him just as he was leaving. "I gather my name's been up in lights again today," she said, trying to inject a little humor into a dismal situation. |
| 4213 |
It was all tangled and nearly unintelligible, but Mary Stuart managed to figure out what was happening, and insisted she come over. They had plenty of time before the party, if they even went after all. All Tanya wanted to do was go home, but they weren't sending the plane for her until the next morning. |
| 4214 |
And in some ways, it had never been completely right between them since the beginning and she knew that too, although she would have hated to admit it. They settled in the living room and talked for a while, and then Tanya got up and said she had to go to the powder room, and Mary Stuart told her where to go. |
| 4215 |
There was a tiny guest bathroom down the hall, on the left, and Tanya walked swiftly toward it. She opened the door, turned on the light, and then gasped. She had opened the wrong door, and she was standing in Todd's bedroom, staring at the trophies and the pictures and the memorabilia all around her. |
| 4216 |
As usual, she hadn't dared tell Bill she'd been in there. He had told her once before that he thought the room should be kept locked, but when she asked him what he thought she should do with Todd's things, he had told her to do whatever she wanted. And she hadn't had the heart to take any of it apart. |
| 4217 |
But they all knew why now. It was so pathetically simple. The girl he had loved for four years had died in a car accident, on an icy New Jersey road four months before, and he had quietly sunk into an ever deeper depression. No one had realized how depressed he was, or the full extent of his despair after she died. |
| 4218 |
They had gone for a long walk in the park, and talked philosophically and laughed, he had even talked in vague terms about his future. He told her he knew now he would always be happy. And then he did it, the night he went back. He committed suicide two weeks before his twentieth birthday, in his room in Princeton. |
| 4219 |
And he hoped that once they forgave him, they would be relieved to know that he and Natalie would be together forever in Heaven. Although his parents had said they were too young, he had wanted to marry her, after graduation, the following summer. And in a sense, Todd said in his note, they were married now. |
| 4220 |
You can't just silently accept all the guilt and all the burden of what happened. Todd goes down in history as a hero, and not a poor, sick, foolish kid who did an incredibly stupid thing we'll all regret forever. But whatever it was, for whatever reason, maybe that was his destiny. And it is what happened. |
| 4221 |
You can't take it back, or make it your decision, or your fault. It was all his doing. And Bill has no right to blame you, that's how he absolved himself. It was all your fault, so he could be free to be angry and miserable and rotten. Mary Stuart, you're not the responsible party here, you're the scapegoat. |
| 4222 |
Just as it was easier for Bill to blame Mary Stuart, and not himself, for not anticipating what had happened. And she was still sitting and thinking about it when Alyssa called and they chatted for a little while, and she told her about Tanya's visit, but not about their conversation in her brother's bedroom. |
| 4223 |
Not yet, at any rate. And more than likely never. But she didn't like feeling that part of her life was entirely over, and for the past year it certainly had been, and in spite of her talk with Tanya in Todd's room that afternoon, for the moment, there was certainly no light at the end of the tunnel. |
| 4224 |
She let everyone know she was married, and her wedding ring was plainly visible, but she had several very interesting conversations, and the whole evening was good for her ego. She felt great when they finally left, and Tanya offered to take her out for hamburgers again, but she really thought she should get home. |
| 4225 |
Tanya's visits always transformed her life while she was there, and they always reminded her of what good friends they had been, still were, and probably always would be. It was a good thing to remember. And she felt better than she had in months, maybe over a year. Tanya's timing couldn't have been better. |
| 4226 |
But he had long since made it clear to her that that was out of the question. He didn't want her there while he was working. It was yet another way he kept his distance from her, to punish her for her transgressions. "I'll see you when you come over with Alyssa," he said, as though reading what was in her head. |
| 4227 |
She spoke very clearly and very quietly in the room, and even she was surprised by her own words, but not as startled as he was. "I'm not going to do this forever, Bill." She stood there for a moment after she said it, and slowly he turned and looked at her, holding his glasses in his hand with a look of amazement. |
| 4228 |
You act as though I don't exist. You ignore me, you shun me, you reject me, and now you're going to London for three months, or two at least, and you expect me to be satisfied with a two day visit. This isn't a marriage anymore. It is slavery, and people must have been a lot nicer to their slaves than you are. |
| 4229 |
Even at forty four, there was a life out there for her, and people who were willing to talk to her, and show a little interest. It was as though Tanya had opened a window for her, and she had dared to look outside for the first time in ages. It was all very intriguing, and she had no idea what to do now. |
| 4230 |
Despite the chasm between them now, it was going to be incredibly lonely without him. She picked up some dinner at William Poll, got the book and some magazines, some candy and gum, and she had all of his clean shirts hanging in his dressing room for him when he got home from the office at four thirty. |
| 4231 |
When she had even tried to say something to him a few days before, she had met a wall, and he had completely ignored her. She wondered now if he had actually heard her. "I don't expect you to stay out of my hair," she said, as she sat down across from him, and her eyes looked like pools of dark chocolate. |
| 4232 |
She hadn't seen him cry since the day they'd picked Todd's body up at Princeton. Even at the funeral, he had looked stern, and she had never seen him cry since. He had been hiding behind his wall for all this time, and this was the first time he'd ventured out from behind it. Maybe he was upset about leaving too. |
| 4233 |
I think of him... it's as though we're all irreversibly bound to each other. I needed to get away from it, to stop thinking about him, and what we should have done or known or said, or how things could have been different. It's almost driven me out of my mind. I thought London might be a good way to change that. |
| 4234 |
He had told himself it was so sensible leaving her. He was going to London to work, after all. But in fact, he had been relieved at the opportunity to escape her, and now it seemed awkward and stupid, yet he didn't want to change it and take her with him. "I'll be fine," she said with more nobility than truth. |
| 4235 |
He was in the bathroom taking a shower when she came in, and when he walked into the bedroom, he was wearing a robe and his hair was damp. He smelled of soap and aftershave, and for a moment, seeing him that way gave her a jolt. He seemed to be relaxing with her a little bit now that he was leaving. |
| 4236 |
She nodded, and said nothing, and when he got up, she put their dishes in the sink, and tried to keep herself from crying. It was so strange watching him leave, going through all the procedures and plans, and almost before she had come to terms with it, he had rung for the elevator and his bags were on the landing. |
| 4237 |
And it had been tacitly decided by then, she was not going to the airport. She stood in the doorway watching him as the elevator man took his bags, and then took a discreet step back so he couldn't see them. "I'll call you," Bill said, looking like a kid again, and she had to fight back tears as she watched him. |
| 4238 |
She knew instinctively that they would only get farther apart from it, not closer. He was so foolish to think this was what they needed. If anything, it would make the gap unbridgeable in future. He took a step back from her then, without kissing her, and looked down at her with immeasurable sadness. |
| 4239 |
What it boiled down to finally was that a group of her friends were going to the Netherlands and they wanted her to go with them. It was a rare opportunity, and they would travel into Switzerland and Germany, staying with friends, or at youth hostels, and then Italy, where she had planned to meet them later. |
| 4240 |
She could remember those days now, as though they had happened only the day before. She had spent every afternoon in the park with her children. Some of her friends had gone to work, but she had always felt it was more important for her to be at home, and she was lucky that she had always been able to do it. |
| 4241 |
And now they were gone, one grown and on her own and traveling around Europe with friends, the other to a distant place in eternity where she hoped she would one day see him again. Believing that was all she had left to hold on to. "Take care of them," she wanted to whisper to the mothers she could see far below. |
| 4242 |
And she didn't even have the comfort of thinking it was another woman. It was no one, it was him, it was her, it was time, it was the fact that tragedy had struck them, and they hadn't survived it. It was Life. But whatever had done it, she knew that her marriage had died. All she had to do now was adjust to it. |
| 4243 |
She would have preferred not to do it alone, but it was time. It almost felt as though he were waiting for her, as though he would have approved and wanted her to do it. She opened the door to his room, and stood there for a long time, and then she opened the drapes and the blinds and let in the sunlight. |
| 4244 |
It was as though he had suddenly shared something with them, as though he had left them a gift, yet another memory. She put an especially nice photograph of all of them in her own room, and another of him in Alyssa's bedroom. It was two o'clock in the morning before she was through, and it was all done by then. |
| 4245 |
It was dark outside, as she stood alone in the stark white kitchen. She could almost feel him next to her, she could still see his face, his eyes, hear his voice so clearly. Sometimes she thought she was forgetting, but she knew she never would. Todd was so much more than the sum of his things to her. |
| 4246 |
She took the dark green bedspreads off the beds, and put them in the closet to send to the cleaners, and she made a mental note to change the drapes. She had never noticed how badly they had faded. It was sad looking at his old room, it seemed so empty and so bereft, with boxes stacked everywhere all around her. |
| 4247 |
But he was already long gone. She was a year late putting away his things. She was a year late saying good bye to him, but in the important ways she had. He would never be forgotten, and things would never be the same again. It seemed only a matter of time before she would be packing the rest of the apartment. |
| 4248 |
The next day, she was going to have the Goodwill pick up the things to give away, and the service manager take the rest of the boxes down to the basement. And as she walked slowly back to her room, she thought of everything that had happened in the past year, how far they had come, and how alone they all were. |
| 4249 |
And now she was here, putting away memories, and letting go of her older child, her first baby. She looked long and hard at a photograph of him as she stood in her bedroom. His eyes were so big and bright and clear, and he had been laughing when she took the picture. She could still hear the sound of his laughter. |
| 4250 |
He was pretending to strangle his sister, it was all in good fun, and he had run halfway down the beach afterward with the top of her bikini, with Alyssa running after him, clutching a towel and screaming. It seemed a thousand years ago, when there was still more to her life than just memories, and an empty apartment. |
| 4251 |
An attorney, an accountant, a decorator who thought she should redo the house, an architect who was going to help her alter the kitchen at the beach house. Everyone had to be paid and met with and listened to, and if they somehow decided she had fallen short of their expectations of her, they would sue her. |
| 4252 |
It wasn't just her work and the pressures that got to him, she knew she had lost him because he was so humiliated over the tabloids. You had to have a thick skin to love someone with a show business career, and apparently he didn't. "What have you told the kids, by the way?" She was worried about that. |
| 4253 |
She couldn't believe what was happening to her. He had left her, taken his life, his kids, cheated on her in Palm Springs, made a fool of her in the press, and now his ex wife wouldn't let her see the children. But when her lawyer called her back later that night, he was not encouraging when she explained it. |
| 4254 |
It was so totally the wrong thing to do, and yet it required a peculiar mix of cowardice and courage, and she found that she had neither. She sat in her living room until the sun came up, thinking about all of it, wanting to hate Tony for as much as she could, and she found she couldn't do that either. |
| 4255 |
She couldn't do anything except sit there and cry all night, and there was no one to hear her. And at last, she got up and went to bed. She had no idea what she was going to do about Wyoming, and she didn't even care now. She'd let Jean go and take friends, or her hairdresser, or Tony with a girlfriend. |
| 4256 |
And then she remembered he was going to Europe with his girlfriend. Everyone had friends and children, and a life, and even a decent reputation. And all she had were a bunch of gold and platinum records, hanging on a wall, and a row of awards sitting on a shelf below them. But there was not much more beyond that. |
| 4257 |
She hadn't even had a drink the day before, but she felt rotten, and she had a dismal headache. "God, I'm going to need another trip to the plastic surgeon after all this," she said to her reflection once she walked into the bathroom. She ran a hot bath, and slipped slowly into it, and she felt a little better. |
| 4258 |
And Tanya was so touched after what she read, that she reached for her telephone book, looked up the number, and called her. She hadn't talked to her in two years, but they always exchanged cards at Christmas. Tanya knew she was the only one still in touch with her. Mary Stuart had lost contact with her years before. |
| 4259 |
She pointed to her watch and held up five fingers to her. She wanted five more minutes to talk to Tanya. But there were over forty patients waiting for her in the waiting room, some of them too ill to be there. It was a familiar story to Zoe. But she could take at least five minutes out for old times' sake. |
| 4260 |
She was in great spirits all day thinking about it, and that night at the benefit she looked spectacular in a black sequined dress that clung to her extraordinary figure, and everyone said her performance had never been better. "You were hot!" Jean whispered as Tanya came off the stage, spent but pleased. |
| 4261 |
But the cases she hated most, and she had had many of them, were the children. It was like working in an underdeveloped country. She could offer them no cure, and there was so little she could do to help them. Sometimes only a gesture, a touch of the hand, a gift of time, a moment at their bedside before they died. |
| 4262 |
She wanted to change as quickly as she could, and then come back to spend a few minutes with Jade before she went out with Dick Franklin. This was exactly why she hated going out at night. It gave her absolutely no time with her daughter. But her outings and dates were rare, just as her days off were. |
| 4263 |
She was crouched on the floor, still playing blocks with her daughter. "I'm impressed," he said, managing to look both very handsome and extremely lofty. There had always been something very arrogant about him, and Zoe suspected that was what appealed to her, there was an irresistible desire to tame him. |
| 4264 |
He had confessed to her long since that he felt uneasy around children. He had never had any of his own, and like her, he had never been married. He claimed that the opportunity had never presented itself to him at the right time, but she sensed fairly accurately that he was basically too self centered. |
| 4265 |
It was all she could do to stay awake at the table. And she was planning to do rounds at seven o'clock the next morning, which meant she'd be up at five or five thirty with Jade. She got up with her every morning, and played with her before she went to work. It was her favorite time of day with her baby. |
| 4266 |
He himself had a busy schedule with an enormous number of patients to see, he was considered the preeminent breast surgeon at UC, and he still managed to lecture all over the country. "Maybe that's what keeps things interesting," Zoe said, smiling at him, as she sat in the comfortable car, watching him. |
| 4267 |
She thanked him for dinner, and he left, and the moment he was gone, she hurried to her bedroom, took off her clothes, and slipped into bed without even putting on her nightgown or brushing her teeth. She was too tired to do anything but sleep, and she lay dead to the world until six o'clock the next morning. |
| 4268 |
It was one of the busiest days she'd had in months, and she didn't have time to call the lab till lunchtime. And when she did, they didn't have the results for her, and for once she lost her temper. "We've waited two weeks for this, dammit. It's not fair to keep people waiting that long," she complained. |
| 4269 |
What was she going to do now? And as she contemplated the enormity of it, she was overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings. She had had denial about it at first, but she had suspected it for weeks, when she had gotten a funny sore on her lip. It had disappeared fairly rapidly, but her suspicions didn't. |
| 4270 |
But if she were to continue seeing him now, she would tell him, just so he'd know what she had to contend with. But she had no desire to see him, or tell him. She couldn't imagine him taking care of her or even being very sympathetic. He had even warned her of the risks she was taking, with her kind of practice. |
| 4271 |
He was a scientist, and they were good friends certainly, but he wasn't the kind of person you went to with a problem. He was the kind of man you went out with for a nice evening. But she was sure he'd be appalled, if she told him. And she knew, without even thinking about it, that their dating career had just ended. |
| 4272 |
But there was no one else she wanted to share her bad news with. As she did with everything else, she kept it to herself. Zoe Phillips did not cry on anyone's shoulder. But Zoe cried all the way home, in the old Volkswagen van, and when she reached her house, she looked almost as ravaged as she felt. |
| 4273 |
The medical community was so small and gossipy, she just didn't want anyone to know yet, although eventually, she supposed, once she got very sick, the news would get around. But if she was lucky that might not be for a very long time. And in the meantime, she didn't want Dick Franklin filling everyone in. |
| 4274 |
Despite the longevity of their friendship, she was extremely private about her life. Yet it was hard for him not to respond to her warmth and compassion. He admired her more than he could ever tell her, and he would have done anything for her. "Thanks, Sam," she said, and he waved and closed the door behind him. |
| 4275 |
She lay in bed, lost in her own thoughts after that, for a long time. There was so much to think about, her practice, her daughter, her health, their future. It was all racing through her head, and as she closed her eyes again, it all seemed like a blur. And then suddenly, as she lay there, she thought of Tanya. |
| 4276 |
But before they got there, she didn't want to give either of them a chance to back out. "I can only come for a week though," Zoe said firmly. She was already panicking at the thought of leaving her practice. But it was the kind of thing she was going to have to do now, if she wanted to maintain her health. |
| 4277 |
But there was something in the way she sounded that Tanya vaguely remembered, something about her voice that was reminiscent of when Zoe was in trouble or distraught over something years before, like Ellie. But it had been so long since they'd seen each other that Tanya didn't dare press her, or accuse her of lying. |
| 4278 |
Sam worked with Zoe for several hours the following week, to acquaint himself with her current patients. There were a number of them he knew from covering for her on the odd night, here and there. But when he read all the current files of her most acutely ill patients, he was stunned by how many she handled. |
| 4279 |
It seemed awful to be thinking like that, but Zoe knew she had to. Part of her was still resisting it, but another part had already accepted her fate. It seemed an incredible end to a bright career, and if she let herself, she could dwell on her bad luck and ill fate, but she really didn't want to do that. |
| 4280 |
She seemed to leave no stone unturned in seeking out new antibiotics, medications, ways of treating infection and pain, and even unusual holistic treatments. She did anything she could to beat the disease, right till the bitter end, and to comfort the patient. "One of these days we'll get lucky," she said sadly. |
| 4281 |
Sam would have liked to be closer to her. She had always been very open with him, and very friendly, but he never felt there was any interest on her part in being more than friends and business associates and collaborating physicians. And particularly lately she felt she couldn't allow herself to be close to anyone. |
| 4282 |
She was very careful to put a safe distance between herself and the rest of the world, even Sam, whom she had known since med school. She didn't want to mislead him or anyone, to lead them on, or provide a come on. She wanted to make it clear to everyone that she was not available as a woman, only as a doctor. |
| 4283 |
It seemed the only fair way to handle her situation. She had even thought about buying herself a cheap wedding band, and she forced herself not to think of the lonely path she was taking. But as they worked on the last of the files, Sam glanced at her again and wondered if he could ask her out to dinner. |
| 4284 |
He always had. And over the years, he had come to admire her more, and like her better. "That sounds fine," she said with no clue at all that he found her even remotely attractive. She had wanted to take him out anyway, to thank him for giving her the opportunity to leave town and have a real vacation. |
| 4285 |
They laughed about how long it had been. Although their paths had crossed regularly over the past eighteen years, they'd never really had time alone together, they were always working. They both ordered ravioli, and he offered her wine but she refused, and then they settled down to talk about work again. |
| 4286 |
He admired her, but he felt sorry for her too. She did so much for so many people, and he knew firsthand how draining it was. But there didn't seem to be anyone to do anything for her. And he couldn't imagine her deriving any real comfort from her relationship with Dick Franklin, or anyone like him. |
| 4287 |
Thanks to him, I started the clinic. He was in research and he was brilliant. He had bypass surgery at forty two, and eventually it killed him. He didn't live a year after the transfusion. I thought about going into research with him. I'd always been intrigued with unsolved mysteries, and remote diseases. |
| 4288 |
My patients love you. You do a great job. And I can't really blame you for avoiding all the crap that goes with an ordinary practice. I've really missed not having partners, it's so much more work like this. But I also like not having the headaches, the arguments, the petty jealousies, and all the problems. |
| 4289 |
I was in a practice with two other docs then, but I left it when I set up the clinic. I never felt compelled to be married, or even to be with anyone indefinitely. We saw each other a lot, and we were very close, but we didn't live together actually until he was dying. I took three months off work and took care of him. |
| 4290 |
She just wanted to keep to herself, and enjoy her life with Jade. It would have been different if there had been someone in her life when it happened, but since there wasn't, as far as she was concerned, the doors were closed now. "I don't have time for a relationship," she said simply, and he looked startled. |
| 4291 |
Otherwise he just couldn't understand it, but she seemed very firm about it. She turned the conversation then to other things, which frustrated him even more. He found that they had even more in common than he'd previously thought, people, plans, their shared views about medicine, and passion for all it represented. |
| 4292 |
She had a great sense of humor, and a quick mind. She had traveled extensively, and there was something wonderfully honest and genuine about her. She told things the way they were, analyzed situations very astutely, and as she talked about her patients to him, it was obvious how much she loved them. |
| 4293 |
But as far as he was concerned, she could have said that. In fact, everything in her life pointed to it, the fact that she had so much time available to spend on her work, that she had no desire to get married, she was obviously involved and didn't want to admit it. And he was very sorry to know that. |
| 4294 |
And as Zoe watched him as they ate, and afterward as they sat and drank cappuccino, she found that she liked him too. He was exactly what he had always seemed, a real teddy bear of a man, someone intelligent and kind, someone you could really count on. And he was as enamored as she was with her clinic. |
| 4295 |
But he noticed when it came that Zoe was looking exhausted. He had noticed several times recently how tired she looked, but he didn't think much about it. Her practice was so draining that it wasn't surprising she was pale, and it was only tonight that he also noticed a certain gauntness to her figure. |
| 4296 |
She knew more than ever that she couldn't let her guard down. No matter how kind and appealing he was, she couldn't let herself do it. It had been so easy with Dick, when she went out with him. They were just friends, and if they took it a little further than that once in a while, there was no harm done. |
| 4297 |
And she had no intention of doing it to Sam. There was not a chance in the world that she was going to let him come any closer to her. They were colleagues and friends, and nothing more, and she absolutely would not let him come beyond her limits, and he sensed that. It made him sad as they left the restaurant. |
| 4298 |
She didn't want him to open his heart to her, or ask her to open hers, or worse yet have to tell him why she couldn't. As far as she was concerned, no one had the right to know that. "Thank you for covering for me," she said, and meant it. It was a relief to talk about their work and not their feelings. |
| 4299 |
He had been attracted to her for years, but his feelings had always been in check, and had long since settled into an easy friendship. He had never expected to be completely bowled over by her, and then find that the door behind which she hid had been locked and sealed forever. The very thought of it drove him crazy. |
| 4300 |
She had talked to Alyssa in Holland the night before, she was having a fantastic time traveling with five friends, and Mary Stuart suspected she was having her first really serious romance. She was happy for her, and still more than a little sad to have missed their opportunity to travel around Europe together. |
| 4301 |
He never thought she had any particular affinity for horses. He said all the things which, years before, would have made her reconsider, but this time did not affect her. She wanted to spend two weeks at the ranch with Tanya. She wanted to be with her friend, to talk to her, and look up at the mountains in the morning. |
| 4302 |
He had given up that right when he had told her he didn't want her in London with him. He had given up a lot of things that year, intentionally and otherwise, and she wanted to do some serious thinking about it. She couldn't imagine coming back to their relationship the way it had been, the way it had become. |
| 4303 |
And she doubted if what had been left in its place was worth keeping. She couldn't believe what she was thinking. But she couldn't imagine going back to him, couldn't think about living with him that way again, never speaking, holding, touching. They had lost their dreams, their lives, more than just Todd had died. |
| 4304 |
It had all ended so quickly. It was strange to think about it now. She felt as though she had been treading water in icy seas for a long time, she had almost drowned, but she was beginning to move forward again, still frozen, still numb, injured and bruised, but she was beginning to think she might not drown after all. |
| 4305 |
Her housekeeper was putting bags of food on the bus, and she had bought a dozen new videos to keep them entertained on the trip across Nevada and Idaho. It was a long, boring ride, she'd been told, and she'd even brought half a dozen new scripts to look at. She was currently being offered parts in several new movies. |
| 4306 |
She had worn them all through college, and everyone who knew her knew how much she loved them. "Thanks, Tom," she said, waving to the driver as she got on, and he began slowly maneuvering the giant vehicle through her gates, and down her narrow driveway. The bus was huge, and it was divided into two huge rooms. |
| 4307 |
She stood a little to one side with her friend, and within less than a minute heads began turning, she saw a few people whispering, some shy smiles, and five minutes later a cluster of teenagers came over with a pen and some paper. "May we have your autograph, Miss Thomas?" they asked, giggling and shoving each other. |
| 4308 |
But she also knew that if they didn't move quickly then, she would be surrounded by fans in less than five minutes. She knew from experience that once she was recognized it was only a matter of moments before it became a mob scene. And she smiled over the kids at Mary Stuart, as her old friend watched her. |
| 4309 |
She had fought long and hard to get where she was, and she had paid a high price for it, and given up parts of herself she knew she would never get back now. She had given trust and caring and love, and worked harder than anyone Mary Stuart had ever known, and in the end, she stood alone at the top of the mountain. |
| 4310 |
And yet I'm expected to be there for him, to run his home, to take his messages, to cook his dinner. But he no longer has to speak to me, or care for me, or take me anywhere. He's silently blaming me for killing Todd, or at least not stopping him from what he did. But Bill no longer acts married to me now. |
| 4311 |
I bought it and put most of the money into it, and in the end I'll have to give him a bunch of money to keep it. And some other stuff. He took the Rolls, and he wants alimony and a settlement, and he'll probably get it. He says that my lifestyle caused him pain and suffering and he wants to get paid for it. |
| 4312 |
Even Tony had given in to it finally. It was hard for anyone to remember she was a person, and harder still for people to resist just grabbing for what they wanted. Tanya hated it too, but it was something she had long since understood and made her peace with. It was just what happened when you became that famous. |
| 4313 |
You'd get used to it, just like I did. There are a lot of perks. That's what kind of sucks you in at first, they don't hit you with the rough stuff until later, and then it's too late, you're too far in to get out, and you figure you might as well stay for the whole show. I'm not sure yet myself if it's been worth it. |
| 4314 |
Mary Stuart had brought a stack of books with her, and Tanya was poring over magazines, and relieved not to find herself in them. And at nine o'clock, they finally rolled into Winnemucca. It was a brassy little town filled with restaurants and casinos along the main drag, which was actually just a piece of the highway. |
| 4315 |
It was as if he had hardly known her. And he was making her so angry these days, that she didn't even miss him. Now and then, she had a flash of nostalgia for him, remembering something they did, but in a minute, remembering the rest, it was over. It had been a mistake, a marriage that should have been an affair. |
| 4316 |
She wondered if she was getting callous, or if it had never been what she pretended. It was very strange watching the whole relationship recede into the mists as though it had never existed. The only thing she missed now were his children. They got off the bus, with Tom watching them, and Tanya told him they'd be fine. |
| 4317 |
And he went inside to check in and have dinner. And with that, Tanya and Mary Stuart hurried inside to change two fifty dollar bills into quarters, and they put the money in a bucket. They had a great time playing the quarter slot machines, making a dollar back here and there, and staring at the people. |
| 4318 |
The waitress was particularly intent on watching them, but she wasn't quite sure, and she didn't dare ask, and they actually got to eat a meal in peace, which was rare for Tanya. And then they went back to the slot machines till nearly midnight. In the end, they had forty dollars left and split it between them. |
| 4319 |
And a few minutes later, they walked back into the casino. Tanya had called Tom and told him they were almost ready to get going. They had closed up their beds, and he was going to finish cleaning up for them, and get gas, while the two women went to spend another twenty dollars on the slot machines. |
| 4320 |
There was only a message from Zoe confirming her flight time. She was going to arrive at Jackson Hole shortly after they did. And a van from the hotel was picking her up at the airport. Tanya figured they'd arrive at the ranch around five thirty, just in time to change their clothes and have dinner. |
| 4321 |
But she had promised Tanya, and she knew she needed the rest. Otherwise, she would have stayed home and gone to work. She had just gone through the same performance at home with Inge, about instructions for Jade, and when the baby had started crying, Sam almost had to drag her down the stairs with her suitcase. |
| 4322 |
Probably a little of both. He was glad she was taking a vacation and he loved doing locum tenens in her practice. He liked working for her too. But he was willing to sacrifice her company for the moment, she was obviously in dire need of some time off. They had never talked about her personal life again. |
| 4323 |
She was a great believer in doing that prophylactically, even before symptoms, and recommended it to all her patients. She had even told Sam that, in case he saw any new patients. "I really shouldn't have gone on this trip," she said, torturing herself further, and he suggested they go and get a cup of coffee. |
| 4324 |
He stood watching the plane until it pulled away, and then he walked slowly out of the airport. And almost before he'd reached the door, his beeper went off, and he went to a phone to answer a call from one of her patients. He was off and running. And she was in the air by then, on her way to Wyoming. |
| 4325 |
She thought about calling Jade, but she decided it might upset her to hear her voice so soon and not understand where she was. She decided to wait till she got to the ranch instead, and she sat in the airport and drank coffee and read the paper and sat lost in her own thoughts. She so rarely had time to do that. |
| 4326 |
He appreciated her honesty, though he wasn't worried, and he assured her that her secret was safe with him. He asked her how it had happened, and she told him, and he said he wasn't surprised. And she had the feeling, when they hung up, that she wouldn't hear from him again. But in her mind, it was just as well. |
| 4327 |
And she really wanted to shore up her energy and her strength. She knew she would need them. She had every intention of continuing her practice till the bitter end. She had already made that decision. She was going to give her patients everything she had to give, until there was nothing left to give them. |
| 4328 |
But she had to figure out what to do about Jade. She had no family to leave her with, and no friends she thought were responsible enough to take good care of her, or else they were people she liked but weren't good with children. She'd been thinking of talking to Tanya, and she had no idea what she'd think of it. |
| 4329 |
She had planned to reach her at the ranch, and the hotel was sending a van for her. Her bags were among the first ones off, the driver was waiting for her, and everything went smoothly. The young man who drove the van was wearing jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat, and he looked like everyone else in Wyoming. |
| 4330 |
But Zoe found she could barely listen to him, she was mesmerized by the mountains. They were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, and the late afternoon sun shimmered on them in blues and pinks. There was snow at the very top, and they looked like the Swiss Alps to her. She had never seen anything like it. |
| 4331 |
He said he had an uncle who was a doctor too, he was an orthopedist and he'd set Tim's arm once. Did it real good too, because when he rode in the rodeo last year, the arm he'd broken before hadn't bothered him at all, but he'd broken the other one, and his leg too. But he was riding again this year. |
| 4332 |
And there was an enormous fireplace that a tall man could have stood up in. It looked like a cozy place to spend a long winter's night, and there were a few guests chatting quietly in the corner. The woman at the desk explained to her that at that hour most of them were in their cabins, changing for dinner. |
| 4333 |
There was a big, cozy living room, with a fireplace and a potbellied stove, a small kitchen area, and couches covered in handsome textured fabrics. The feeling in the room was Southwestern, and somewhat Navajo, but it looked like a spread in Architectural Digest, where it had recently been featured. |
| 4334 |
And there were three huge bedrooms, each one with a splendid view, and there were trees all around them. It was really beautiful, and Zoe felt totally spoiled as she set down her tote bag, and Tim put down her suitcase. He asked her which bedroom she preferred, and she wanted to wait for Tanya to make the selection. |
| 4335 |
There was one slightly larger than the other two, but they were all large and comfortable with huge king size beds, and rough hewn furniture, and a fireplace in each bedroom. For a minute she wanted to jump up and down on the beds and scream, like a little kid, and she was beaming when Tim left her. |
| 4336 |
For a few minutes she wandered from room to room, and she helped herself to a nectarine from a large bowl of fruit on the coffee table. There was a big tin of freshly baked cookies too, and a box of chocolates. They had also asked Tanya's secretary for all her preferences, and the room was full of them. |
| 4337 |
She watched the news on television, helped herself to a diet Coke, and ten minutes later she could hear the bus lumbering slowly up the driveway. It was perfect timing. And Zoe stood in the doorway, like the lady of the house, waiting to greet her, as Tanya walked off the bus, and ran toward her as soon as she saw her. |
| 4338 |
The two were locked in a fast embrace, as suddenly Zoe saw over her shoulder that someone else was getting off the bus too. And she looked instantly startled, but not nearly as much so as Mary Stuart. Mary Stuart stood rooted to the spot, and she didn't know whether to get back on the bus, or march down the driveway. |
| 4339 |
She had expected some kind of reaction when they arrived, but she hadn't expected both of them to insist on leaving. She realized now that her idea had been really stupid. She would have been better off extending the invitation to either Mary Stuart or Zoe, and not undertaking such an ambitious reunion. |
| 4340 |
She just went to her own room to change for dinner, and the others did the same a moment later. Zoe called home from her room, and everything was fine. Jade was eating dinner when she called, and Inge said everything was going smoothly and she put Jade on the phone, and she didn't even cry when she heard her mother. |
| 4341 |
A number of people they knew in school in the early years had died in Vietnam just before the peace was signed. It had been particularly cruel to lose friends in the final hours, but it had happened. And others had died since then. Several members of their class had died of cancer, and Zoe seemed to know that. |
| 4342 |
And through it ail none of them ever mentioned Ellie. They were still talking about other friends as they walked back to the cabin, and it was only when they were back in their living room that Tanya said it. She knew Ellie was on all their minds, and it would be easier if someone just said it. So she did. |
| 4343 |
She had always been the gentlest of them all, and yet she had often been the life of the party. She was a funny, zany girl, who would do almost anything for a laugh, including walking into a party with nothing but white paint on. She had done that once, and now and then she wore a lamp shade to chapel. |
| 4344 |
I was so damn ignorant when I was young, I kept thinking that one of us should have seen it, that you should have because you were closest to her. I couldn't understand why you didn't know that she'd been taking pills and drinking. She must have been doing it for months, I think, and I guess she'd gotten away with it. |
| 4345 |
It had blown them all apart. Zoe had been vicious with her, she had raged at her for days, and even at the funeral, she had refused to sit beside her. She had blamed Mary Stuart completely for not being able to stop her, and Mary Stuart had been overwhelmed by the accusations, and she had believed her. |
| 4346 |
Just talking about her plans made it all seem so final. And in a way it seemed a betrayal of Bill, who didn't even know what she was thinking. But it was real, and it was what she was feeling, and what she thought she'd do at the end of the summer. At least she had time to think about it now while he was in England. |
| 4347 |
And Zoe was deeply moved to realize her words had hurt her friend for all these years, worse still since her son had been a suicide, not unlike Ellie. Life was so cruel sometimes. It always boggled her, but it was also so kind at others. And in the morning, when the phone rang at six o'clock, it was Zoe who answered. |
| 4348 |
There was an overwhelmingly vulnerable quality about her, and yet she was hiding somewhere, and he was beginning to suspect he would never find her. At that exact moment, as he went to bed, Zoe was standing in the living room of their cabin in Moose, Wyoming, watching the sun come up over the Grand Tetons. |
| 4349 |
Even in college, she had always looked perfect. It was just her style, and in fact they all liked it. She was an inspiration to the others, and always had been. And guys had loved it. Zoe was wearing jeans with holes in the knees, a pair of cowboy boots she'd had for years, and a comfortable old beige sweater. |
| 4350 |
But both of them had to smile when they saw Tanya emerge from the bathroom five minutes later. Even with no makeup on, and having been dragged out of bed, she looked sensational. Tanya was simply a star, without even trying. Her thick blond hair did all the right things, as it cascaded past her shoulders. |
| 4351 |
She didn't drink much, but she just wondered. "Because you'll get smashed on the first three sips and make an ass of yourself," Zoe explained, laughing at her, and then reminded her of the time she had passed out after some dance, and they'd taken her home and she threw up all over Zoe's bed and Zoe almost killed her. |
| 4352 |
And the ranch had already explained that there were too many guests at the moment to send them out without other guests, but Tanya said she didn't mind that. If it got too difficult because they hounded her or took constant photographs, or she didn't like the people they chose, she could always opt to stop riding. |
| 4353 |
But they were from opposite ends of the state, and he didn't seem inclined to pursue the matter further. Most people tried to find some common ground with her. He was only interested in saddling up her horse, adjusting the stirrups for her, tightening the girth for her again, and getting the others mounted. |
| 4354 |
The only way she knew the cowboy's name, since he hadn't introduced himself, was when she heard one of the other wranglers call him. His name was Gordon. Zoe's horse was a paint mare, and she looked spirited, but Liz had promised she was friendly, and Zoe looked surprisingly comfortable in the saddle. |
| 4355 |
Big Max was a tall black horse with a long mane and tail, and as he shied a little in the corral, Tanya wondered if he was as sleepy as Liz had promised. She had no intention of battling a wild horse all over these mountains. But Liz explained as she walked by that he'd be fine once he got out, he was corral shy. |
| 4356 |
He looked to be about fifty five, and Mary Stuart kept staring at him, she could swear she knew him. He was tall and spare and had a mane of gray hair, and sharp blue eyes that examined the entire group with interest. He was a good looking man and even Tanya couldn't help noticing he had distinguished features. |
| 4357 |
But he was so open. "I've felt it too. I felt it yesterday when we arrived. It's as though the mountains are waiting for you here... as though you can tell your troubles to them, and they're waiting to embrace you." She was afraid it would sound silly to him, but he knew just what she meant as he nodded. |
| 4358 |
He'd been thinking about doing a book about it, but he'd been dragging his feet about doing the research. It seemed so depressing. But he was obviously fascinated by what she did, and asked her a great many questions. And he seemed sorry to leave them at their cabin, and said he'd see them at lunchtime. |
| 4359 |
But he surprised her after another half mile, while she was debating whether or not it was worth the trouble of trying again, just to see if he would answer. "You're a real good rider." At first, she couldn't believe he'd spoken, and this time he glanced at her sideways, and then looked away just as quickly. |
| 4360 |
She never really understood why people were so fascinated, nor why he would be frightened of her, "Don't want to say the wrong thing, ma'am. Might make you angry." And then she laughed suddenly, as they rode through a clearing. The light was beautiful on the hills, and in the distance they could see a coyote. |
| 4361 |
It was like seeking truth, or finding nirvana. There was something about the place that touched her deeply. She had come here to amuse her stepchildren originally, and then her friends, but instead she was finding something she had lost from her soul a long time ago, a kind of peace she had long since forgotten. |
| 4362 |
He was careful to set boundaries and stay well behind them. And then, before she could ask him anything else about his life there, they rejoined the others. Hartley and Mary Stuart were chatting easily, and the doctors were still busy dismembering remembered patients, enchanted with their discussions. |
| 4363 |
It was four o'clock by then, and they were free to go to the swimming pool, go hiking, or play tennis. But they were all exhausted and Zoe looked it. Tanya had been noticing since the day before that Zoe was paler than she had been in college. Her already fair skin seemed to have gotten even whiter. |
| 4364 |
And Hartley saw something in her eyes that made him wonder. "Do you have children?" he asked. He had noticed the wedding band on her hand that afternoon, but from things she'd said about deciding where to spend the summer, and the impression he'd gotten that she was alone, he wasn't exactly clear on her marital status. |
| 4365 |
Perhaps he had died in an accident with the father... or perhaps she was still married. There were questions he wanted to ask her. After riding with her all day, he felt as though they were friends now. They were so isolated from the world they knew, in this remarkable place, thrown together for only moments. |
| 4366 |
It was what he had wanted to know. And he assumed that meant Bill lived there. Mary Stuart didn't understand why he had asked her and just thought he was being friendly. It had been a long time since a man had shown an interest in her, and she didn't fully comprehend that that was the case now with this one. |
| 4367 |
It was only partly from the chill, the rest was pure emotion. She had only arrived the day before, and seen him for the first time that morning. But she had read everything he'd ever written, and almost felt she knew him, and they had talked for hours and bared their souls, and they shared a powerful attraction. |
| 4368 |
I don't have much of a life, to tell you the truth, and I never will now. I hate that, but that's the way it is. The press will never let me have a real life. And even the people who meet me won't. They want you to be what they think you are, and then when they get close to you, they want to hurt you. |
| 4369 |
One found oneself talking about the oddest things here. One's hopes and one's dreams, and one's disappointments. It was as though the mountains did something strange and put everything into fast forward. Hartley was talking seriously to Mary Stuart too, and apologizing if he had overstepped his bounds the night before. |
| 4370 |
She didn't say exactly that to him, but he understood very clearly as they rode along that she hadn't in any way been offended by his behavior, far from it. And it was a great relief to him, as their horses stopped for a moment and took a drink from a little stream, as he looked at her, and she was smiling. |
| 4371 |
There was so much that he wanted to tell her and show her and ask her. It was impossible to stand still. The two of them talked constantly, and laughed, and shared ideas, and they were both surprised when they wound up back at the corral at lunch time. They hadn't even been looking where they were walking. |
| 4372 |
But now she understood it better. She looked like his mother, so he was drawn to her, and he was angry at his own mother about the baby. Mary Stuart couldn't help wondering if their paths had crossed so she could help him, or perhaps he had come to her to help her. There was obviously a reason for their meeting. |
| 4373 |
She loved her daughter passionately, and had from the moment she was born, but she had never loved her more or less than her first baby. She touched his hand as they put him in the ambulance, and then bent down and kissed his cheek, and it tore at her heart again as she remembered the sweet smell of childhood. |
| 4374 |
It was as though this child had come to her to open the floodgates of her feelings. "I'll see you soon," she said, and his mother cried and thanked her again, and then they were gone, and Mary Stuart stood there crying and she didn't know what happened but she suddenly felt a powerful pair of arms around her. |
| 4375 |
And Mary Stuart was surprised when she came out of her bedroom, to find that her two friends had gone, and Hartley was still waiting. She thanked him for waiting for her, and he looked at her gently, and she was suddenly worried about him. He had been through a lot too, and he was being very generous with her. |
| 4376 |
What was she going to end up with? A bunch of gold records, a pile of money, a big house? She had no husband, no kids, no one to take care of her when she got old, no one to be with, and share her victories and defeats with. It all seemed so pointless, and the place she had reached in her life seemed so empty. |
| 4377 |
It was what everyone in Hollywood wanted, and the truth was it meant nothing to her. It had been serious stuff to share with him, but he had made a lot of sense, and been very comforting to her. He was smart and practical and down to earth, and so was she, and in an odd way they had a lot in common. |
| 4378 |
There were many things she liked about him. And she didn't mind his simplicity or his occasional roughness. He was never unkind, or thoughtless, there was nothing greedy or cruel about him, and he was very intelligent. She even liked the fact that they were fellow Texans, but she didn't feel ready to tell the others. |
| 4379 |
He smelled of soap and aftershave, and looked very handsome in a white shirt and blue jeans, and Tanya couldn't help thinking that he and Mary Stuart looked terrific together. They looked as though they were meant to be, and Zoe agreed with her, as she commented on it later, on the way to the stables. |
| 4380 |
Little Benjamin was waiting for them there, and having everyone sign his cast. Tanya gave him a big kiss and an autograph, and a bunch of young girls asked her for one too, and their mothers let them. People were more relaxed about seeing her around, but no one was taking sneaky pictures of her, which she appreciated. |
| 4381 |
But Tanya could hardly wait to see it. And she had just the outfit for it. She was like a kid going to the fair when they got dressed that night before dinner. She came out of her room wearing soft beige suede jeans with fringe down the side, and a matching beige suede shirt with the same fringe and a suede neck scarf. |
| 4382 |
And in the comfortable bus, the time passed quickly on the way into Jackson Hole from Moose, and half an hour later they were at the rodeo, and they were nearly half an hour early. The ranch had gotten them great tickets. And it all had a familiar smell and feel to it that reminded Tanya of her childhood. |
| 4383 |
It was just the way Tanya remembered it when she was a little girl. She used to ride her pony over and watch all of it. And when she was a little older she rode in it a few times, but her daddy said it was too expensive, and she wasn't all that crazy about horses. She just loved the excitement. It was like the circus. |
| 4384 |
It was a hard song to sing, but in a way it would be fun to do it. Right out in the open, with the mountains all around them. It was such a sweet idea that she smiled at him, and wondered what Gordon would think if she did it. In a funny way, she wanted to do it for him, to wish him luck on his bronco. |
| 4385 |
She was a target either way, but she had more mobility on a horse than on foot, and she was a good enough rider to get out of any situation if she had a horse on which to do it. They were more than happy to have her do it on horseback, and they offered her a beautiful palomino which matched her hair and her outfit. |
| 4386 |
It was more theatrical that way anyway. She only hoped she wasn't making herself an easy target for a crazy with a gun. It was an awful way to think, but when she did concerts, she had to. Her agent would have had a nervous breakdown, if he'd known what she was about to do, with no protection, and for free yet. |
| 4387 |
If she had thought when she was a child she would sing the anthem at the rodeo one day, she would never have believed it. It was something she had never done, and used to dream of, as a kid from Texas. And she agreed to do it on horseback. They explained to her that she'd go on in the next ten minutes. |
| 4388 |
And according to plan, she galloped once around the ring, and then walked the horse into the middle, smiling at the crowd and waving as they screamed and cheered her. People were on their feet and unable to believe their good fortune. And for a fraction of an instant, she was afraid they would stampede her. |
| 4389 |
It was the high point of his existence, at least it always had been. But at that moment, the only thing he could think of was her, and what he was hearing and seeing. He had never seen or heard anything more beautiful than Tanya singing the anthem, and he wished he had it on tape, so he could play it forever. |
| 4390 |
He couldn't believe he knew her. The last few days had been like a dream for him, and now he was standing there talking to her, as though he'd always known her. He was wearing green and silver leather chaps, and handmade boots to match them, a bright green shirt, and a gray cowboy hat, and silver spurs that jangled. |
| 4391 |
It might be impossible to stay now anyway, now that they knew she was there, but she was dying to see him ride. It took her a full five minutes, but she got back to her seat with no mishap, and her heart was pounding when she got there, but it was because of Gordon, not the crowd or the performance. |
| 4392 |
It was like that all night, through the team roping, the barrel racing, the bareback broncos, the bulls, and then finally, she saw him. He was riding a fierce, bucking bronco with a saddle. And the thing she hated most about saddle broncs was that the cowboys taped one hand into the horn on the saddle. |
| 4393 |
It had been a real victory for him. And he had done it for Tanya. They stayed until the last event, a final round of bulls, followed by fourteen year old boys on young steers, that made you wonder about the boys' parents. It was certainly not as dangerous as the bulls, but close enough, and Mary Stuart was outraged. |
| 4394 |
But in spite of some of the barbarism, and the sheer hokiness, Tanya had to admit she loved it, it was everything she had always loved as a child. And as they left, the others couldn't believe the number of people who asked for autographs on the way out, who snapped her picture, and tried to touch her. |
| 4395 |
But the grand marshal had very kindly sent the security and the real police over to her, anticipating that, and she managed to get back to the bus without any real problems. There were still about fifty people standing outside the bus when they left, waving and shouting, and running alongside the bus as it drove away. |
| 4396 |
If she stayed long enough, they would have torn her limb from limb, in order to get a piece of her or maybe some lunatic would really hurt her. It was the kind of atmosphere that always made her very nervous in crowds, or out in public. "Tanya, you're amazing," Hartley said to her as they pulled away. |
| 4397 |
She was gracious to everyone, while still maintaining her dignity, and trying to give them what they wanted, and yet keep a reasonable distance. But through it all, one sensed constantly how precarious the balance of the crowd was. "I would be terrified of even a little crowd like that," he said sensibly. |
| 4398 |
She was still exhilarated from the rodeo, and her brief performance, and just after midnight, she heard a soft tapping on the window. She thought it was an animal outside at first, and then she looked up and saw a flash of green shirt, and then a face smiling at her like a mischievous boy. It was Gordon. |
| 4399 |
They stood there for a long time and kissed and talked. He had a day off on Sunday and wanted to go exploring with her. She offered to take him in the bus, but he just wanted to take her out in his truck, and show her the places he loved, and she agreed to go with him. She had to figure out what to tell the others. |
| 4400 |
She didn't really want to discuss it with them. There was something so magical about what was happening to them, she wanted to keep it private. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered finally, but he couldn't imagine not being able to kiss her the next day, or put his arms around her, but they both knew he couldn't. |
| 4401 |
It was after two o'clock by then, and they had been out there for nearly two hours, talking and kissing. And when Tanya went inside, she jumped when she heard a sound. She had thought they were asleep, but it was Zoe putting the kettle on in the kitchen. She looked green and she had a blanket around her. |
| 4402 |
Tanya called the manager and asked if there was a doctor nearby who could make a house call. They asked what the problem was and she said only that one of her friends was extremely ill, they didn't know what it was, but it could easily have been appendicitis or something that needed immediate treatment. |
| 4403 |
He had told Zoe he thought she'd feel better in a few days. But she had been honest with him and shared her secret. He suggested she take it extremely easy, stay in bed, drink clear fluids, do everything possible not to get dehydrated, and try to recoup her strength. He was sure she'd be feeling better by Monday. |
| 4404 |
She looked crestfallen at that, she didn't even know if Sam was free to cover for her for a second week. And she had said darkly that she'd have to call him. She wanted to see her little girl, and go back to work, and she was worried that this was a sign of things to come, but Dr. Kroner told her he hoped it wasn't. |
| 4405 |
She thought that was hopeful. Each time she got sick, she was terrified it would mean a marked degeneration, but so far, she'd been lucky, and she always got better quickly. Tanya and Mary Stuart were waiting just outside her door when the doctor emerged, and they were deeply concerned by the long visit. |
| 4406 |
And somehow, discussing it with him brought the situation home to her again with a vengeance. Unfortunately Zoe knew more about all of it than he did. And she knew what the prognosis was too. She dealt with it daily, and as her two friends looked at her in dismay, she found that she couldn't stop crying. |
| 4407 |
Zoe was still completely overwrought, and as Mary Stuart looked at her eyes, it was as though there were someone frightened and sad trapped inside her. And somehow, she had to try one more time. She didn't want to intrude, but she wanted to help her, As she leaned over her, she asked her one last question. |
| 4408 |
Hartley walked them up to lunch, and the three of them talked endlessly about Zoe, her health, her career, her clinic, her child, her future, her brilliant mind, her enormous devotion to mankind. They went on endlessly about her, and the subject of their admiration and sympathy was sitting in her bedroom, thinking. |
| 4409 |
You fall in love with the people you fall in love with. Sorry if it's inconvenient, sorry if you're sick. I could fall in love with some awful woman tomorrow and have her fall under a train. At least you and I know the score here. We have some time, maybe a lot, maybe a little. I'm willing to take what we can get. |
| 4410 |
She had been so fond of him for so long, but she had never allowed her feelings for him to move forward. She had been too busy taking care of her patients to let herself be anything more than a doctor, and mother, "You can call yourself anything you like if you marry me," Sam told her magnanimously. |
| 4411 |
But it was the most beautiful afternoon of her life, as she lay looking up at him, and then he lay next to her, and they looked at the mountains. They walked for a while, hand in hand, leading their horses, talking about their childhoods, and they talked about Zoe too, and Sam's remarkable love for her. |
| 4412 |
He wanted to spoil her, and be there for her, and take care of her. He wanted to make history, and have her recover. But if she didn't, he'd be there for her too, until the bitter end. He knew now, to his very soul, that it was his destiny, and nothing she could have said to him would dissuade him or change that. |
| 4413 |
She wasn't even sure if they would, but the fact that he wanted to touched her deeply. Knowing that he wanted to be there for her meant everything, with or without a wedding. The wedding was only frosting on the cake, the important thing was that he'd be there for her, in sickness and in health, for better or worse. |
| 4414 |
Things certainly seemed to be working out well for her, and that was important. She said that she had told her friends about her illness too, and it had been very emotional for all of them, but she felt great support from all the people who really mattered to her. "You know how much that means," he reminded her. |
| 4415 |
He reminded her not to overdo it, and she promised she wouldn't, but he said he didn't believe her. "You're probably right," she laughed. She couldn't wait to get back and see her patients, but she was having fun in Wyoming too, and she thought it was doing her good. Like the others, she had felt the same pull here. |
| 4416 |
And then he asked her something that surprised her. He said he wanted a favor from her, and she couldn't imagine what it was. But she was deeply touched when he asked if she would visit some of his patients. She was so knowledgeable and she had so much experience, it would be invaluable to him if she would see them. |
| 4417 |
She used to think it gave texture to things, and it shed new light on a variety of situations. But in Hartley's case, everything was so much smoother. Now she saw what it was like being with someone who had the same ideas about things, shared the same views, it was like dancing with Astaire and being Ginger Rogers. |
| 4418 |
And she was tempted not to answer. But it didn't seem fair to the others, it could have been a call from Zoe's child or one of her patients, or something warning Tanya of danger, or a potential problem. She hurried back into the room, carrying her red cashmere shawl, and picked up the phone, sounding breathless. |
| 4419 |
She didn't want to mislead him now, and she didn't know why he was doing this. After a year of silence and pain, why would he? Maybe he just felt guilty, or was sorry about what they no longer had, just as she was. But she wasn't going to play games with him, and she wasn't going to let him hurt her again. |
| 4420 |
The two step lesson that night was even more fun than anticipated. All the guests came, and Zoe sat wrapped in a blue cashmere shawl, she was wearing a soft chamois dress and beautiful turquoise earrings, and she looked lovely as she sat there. Some of the other guests had worn skirts that swirled as they danced. |
| 4421 |
She and Gordon danced four more times, and then he changed partners and showed several others how to do it. But at the very end, he came back to her, and they did it one last time. Everyone had had a great time, and people were admiring her, but they left her alone now. They hardly even whispered when they saw her. |
| 4422 |
Mary Stuart felt certain she had made her mind up. "I don't think seeing him is going to change anything," she said gently, holding Hartley's hand in her own and kissing it. He was so dear to her, she had grown so fond of him in such a short time, and they felt incredibly protective about each other. |
| 4423 |
There was nothing else left to hold them back from each other, although he was still a little bit concerned about her daughter. He had never had children of his own, and he wondered if Alyssa would resist him, if she would blame him for the divorce, and choose to hate him out of loyalty to her father. |
| 4424 |
In fact, the divorce wouldn't have been because of him, but it might be hard for her to accept that. He had spoken to Mary Stuart about it that afternoon, and she admitted that she and Alyssa would have to do some very serious talking. But on the other hand, she wasn't willing to stay with her father just for her. |
| 4425 |
And as Mary Stuart saw it, her own life was better than half over, this was her last chance possibly to make a life with a person she could really care about and who loved her. She wasn't going to let the chance pass her by out of loyalty to something she no longer had with a man who could no longer love her. |
| 4426 |
And then she would go home again, and get her life organized. She had no idea what Bill would want to do with the apartment. If he would want to keep it, or sell it, if he wanted to live in it, or thought she should. But she had already made her mind up about that too. She didn't want to live there. |
| 4427 |
It was all too painful, and a constant reminder of tragedy every time she passed Todd's room. Whether or not his things were there made no difference. She knew he had once lived there, knew exactly where the Princeton banner had been, and the trophies, and the teddy bear on his bed when he was little. |
| 4428 |
Funnily enough, they had both worn navy blue, it was something Hartley said couples sometimes did unconsciously when they were particularly in tune with each other. But it warmed Tanya's heart to see them. "You two are so cute," she said, sitting on the couch on her bus, swinging one leg over the other. |
| 4429 |
He had the perfect house, the perfect wife, the perfect children, and he expected it that way. She wondered how much he'd ever really appreciated it, how often he'd thanked her, if ever. But she was sure that he was going to be stunned now when Mary Stuart told him it was over. Even his faxes to her made Tanya mad. |
| 4430 |
She really thought he was perfect for Mary Stuart, and they looked fabulous together. They even looked a little bit alike, except that his hair was gray and he was ten years older. And he made Tanya promise that she'd be careful that night, and ask for help from the police if she had the smallest problem. |
| 4431 |
People were looking at her, and she knew they had recognized her, but other than a few kids, no one had dared approach her. And she went off to do her bit for them, wearing blue jeans and a red shirt, and Mary Stuart had lent her her new red cowboy boots that looked terrific. They still wore the same shoe size. |
| 4432 |
People like Tanya Thomas just didn't get on a horse and ride off into the sunset with you. He kept trying to remind himself that it was probably just a game for her, a fun part of her vacation, and yet he knew from talking to her that she was genuine and sincere, and he believed everything she told him. |
| 4433 |
And now he sat looking at her prancing around the ring on the palomino they'd loaned her, and the crowd fell instantly quiet. There were a few screams, and he could hear some of the fans shout her name, but as she looked at them, and moved around the ring, they fell silent. She had an amazing power and charisma. |
| 4434 |
She had a powerful voice that floated up to the skies and enveloped all of them, and even Gordon wiped his eyes when she was finished. She smiled broadly at them all then, and waved at them as she made the horse dance, and then she galloped out of the ring with a good Texas yell and the crowd went crazy. |
| 4435 |
But she was careful this time. She was off the horse and gone before they knew it. She kissed the grand marshal on the cheek, and thanked him for letting her sing both songs, and then she literally disappeared into the crowd as he started after her. She quickly took off the red shirt and tied it around her waist. |
| 4436 |
And the cowboys would have talked for sure. They both knew they were better off keeping their secret. "I'll try and come back later. Otherwise, come visit," she whispered before she left. He had promised that afternoon to come to her cabin again, they loved to sit and talk and neck in the moonlight. |
| 4437 |
She watched most of the events with interest, and then Gordon came on. He was riding bareback tonight, which was even harder and more dangerous. Tanya hated all of it, and most of all the breathless feeling of watching him in midair being bounced around by a wild beast that could easily have killed him. |
| 4438 |
But at the last moment, he turned and waved, and she knew he had done it just for her, so she wouldn't worry. She wanted to run and find him and find out if he was all right, but she didn't want to draw too much attention to herself, so she waited a little while, and watched him from where she was sitting. |
| 4439 |
But this was the world they lived in. Even the five year olds were out in the ring during the intermission chasing raffle tickets and tickets for free days at the county fair tied to the tails of calves and young steers, and Mary Stuart kept complaining to Hartley that they were going to get trampled. |
| 4440 |
But even to Tanya, who had lived in Texas, it all looked dangerous and more than a little crazy. "This macho shit is going to kill me," she said to Hartley as they watched one young bull rider nearly get killed when the bull dropped him unexpectedly and then stomped on what must have been his kidneys. |
| 4441 |
People snatched articles of clothing from her and ran off with them as souvenirs. It was really annoying, and always scared her a little. "How's your arm?" she asked him quickly, and he smiled at her concern. She could see that his hand was swollen, but he had put ice on it and claimed he didn't feel it. |
| 4442 |
They were talking about a cowboy who'd been disqualified from the saddle broncs, and offered a reride but refused it. The politics of cowboys. Mary Stuart and Hartley made their way out with Tanya between them, and they could see the security nearby, keeping an eye on them, and several of the local police. |
| 4443 |
All the fans in the area realized where she was and what had happened, and she couldn't get past the cameras to safety. Tom had the bus door open for her, but he was instantly shoved aside, and a dozen fans poured into the bus past him, looking for her, grabbing things, trying to see what they could, taking pictures. |
| 4444 |
It was terrifying, but through it all she kept trying to shove her way past the newsmen but they wouldn't let her, and Hartley and Mary Stuart had been separated from her by a seething mass of fans who wanted to tear her limb from limb. They didn't know what they were doing. They just wanted to have her. |
| 4445 |
She couldn't get away from them, and they were pushing her, grabbing her, clawing her. There was no getting away from them, and in the midst of it all she felt a powerful arm around her waist, and felt herself lifted off the ground as she saw a hand punch someone, but she didn't know who it belonged to. |
| 4446 |
She was shaking from head to foot. It had been awful. It had been one of the most dangerous situations she'd been in recently, because the crowd was uncontrolled and she didn't have adequate security to help her. If he hadn't been there, she might have gotten killed, or badly hurt, and they both knew it. |
| 4447 |
Hartley, Mary Stuart, and the police were waiting with him. They knew that if she was okay, she'd call the bus, and Hartley had suspected that it was Gordon who had taken her, but he hadn't wanted to say it. They had said only that she had friends at the rodeo, and they were hoping she had gone with them. |
| 4448 |
He really wanted to take her to his place to unwind, so they could talk and sit by a fire. He didn't want to sit outside with her tonight. She'd been through too much, he wanted to take her home and put his arms around her. And who knew what might happen. Tanya read volumes in his eyes and nodded with a smile. |
| 4449 |
She wanted to see where he lived, what he had, what he liked, she just wanted to be with him. "I think everyone's out, but we need to be kind of quiet about it." She knew how much trouble he'd be in if someone saw them, and she worried about it. The other cabins were nearby, although his was less accessible than most. |
| 4450 |
The cabin itself, as it had been provided to him, was nicely decorated, with a denim couch and Western decor, and all around the room he had put photographs of his son, his parents, a horse he'd loved. There were books and magazines in neat piles, some tools in a neat box, and an entire bookcase filled with music. |
| 4451 |
He had whiskey and wine and offered her both, but she said she wasn't a drinker, although after the fracas at the rodeo he thought a shot of whiskey might have done her good, but she said she didn't want it. And as she walked out of the kitchen again, with a mug of coffee in her hand, she glimpsed his bedroom. |
| 4452 |
It looked small and spare. There was a bed, a dresser, and a large comfortable chair. He pointed out that he didn't spend a lot of time there. But it was nice being in his world, seeing where he lived, and she felt surprisingly at home there. It was nicer than a lot of homes she had seen in her lifetime. |
| 4453 |
It was so peaceful there, she couldn't imagine any harm ever coming to her with him. She felt completely safe and totally protected. They started to kiss again after a while, and all the terror and the relief and the sheer horror of what had happened that night seemed to flow away from her as he held her. |
| 4454 |
She was wearing her jeans, an old hat, and she tied an old workshirt of his just beneath her breasts. She looked spectacular, and he shook his head in mock amazement at his fate, as she put on the radio and turned up the music. She had left a message for the others at the ranch that she'd be back sometime that night. |
| 4455 |
And on their way back to town, he stopped at an old ranch. He said it had been one of the finest in town once, but the owner had died, and it wasn't showy enough for the kind of people coming to Jackson Hole now. A couple of movie stars had looked at it, and some German guy. Gordon knew the realtors. |
| 4456 |
You tell me. I could come to visit once in a while, for as long as you could stand it, or I could. You could come back here. You could get yourself a place here, it might do you good. A place to come to and get sane again after the kind of lunacy we saw the other night. If you lived here, it'd be different. |
| 4457 |
In a funny way, it appealed to him, in another way, it didn't. He wanted to be with her, and to protect her from all the garbage she went through. But the idea of being part of all that really scared him. But he knew that if he was going to be with her, he had to at least share in her world some of the time. |
| 4458 |
She had meant to ask earlier but never had the chance. But he didn't see any problem with it. As far as he was concerned, that was up to Tanya. It took all the strength she had to tear herself away from him, and finally she was dressed, and he was in his jeans and barefoot, standing in his living room. |
| 4459 |
His horse had thrown a shoe, and he had paperwork to take care of. New guests had come in the day before, and although he didn't have to ride with them, since he was already assigned to Tanya's group, he still had to make sure that the other wranglers were doing their jobs and there were no problems with the horses. |
| 4460 |
They had a pleasant dinner, the four of them, and Zoe went to bed early after her busy afternoon. Hartley and Mary Stuart decided to go into town for a movie, and by eight o'clock, Tanya was walking down the road to the corral in her old yellow cowboy boots, and her blue jeans and a big white sweater. |
| 4461 |
He could see some smoke, but there was no glow from the fire, and he wasn't worried. And when he came back inside, he was more interested in Tanya than Shadow Mountain. He played some of his favorite music for her, and played with an old guitar, and she sang softly for him, so no one would hear them. |
| 4462 |
She felt like the little woman as she stood there. And she quickly put on her clothes and did as he told her. And as he drove his truck down the road, he smiled when he saw a rustle in the tall grass moving toward the cabins. He knew exactly what it was, and he mentally put his arms around her and kissed her. |
| 4463 |
But as soon as he got to the corral, his work was cut out for him. They had to get all the horses out of their stalls, into the main corral, and they were going to herd them across the valley. The trick was seeing that none of them got hurt or lost, or stampeded. He rounded up ten good men and four women to do it. |
| 4464 |
She was very bright and very cool, and very cheerful. Sandwiches were being made, she said, and thermoses of coffee being prepared, and she indicated that transportation would not be a problem. She said their biggest concern was getting the horses out, and that was being handled at this very moment. |
| 4465 |
Tanya thought of Gordon as she said it. She said that everyone would be moved out in the next half hour, and they would, of course, keep them posted. And with that, the meeting ended, and there was a huge hubbub of voices as people milled around, discussing what was happening with each other and Charlotte. |
| 4466 |
And they were welcome to use it for transporting people to other locations. Charlotte said she was very kind, and they'd be grateful to use it. She explained too that there were busloads of volunteers going up to fight the fire on Shadow Mountain, at which point Zoe stepped in, and asked if she could go up with them. |
| 4467 |
She hesitated for an instant, knowing she wasn't well, and then agreed to let her do it. They always needed medical assistance, and she knew Zoe was well enough to provide it. Whatever her long term medical problems were, and John Kroner had hinted to her that they were severe, she was certainly fine at this point. |
| 4468 |
None of them was well prepared for burns, but Charlotte said she had a kit just for that purpose, and someone brought it to them. It was enormous and very helpful. People started getting in vans provided for them then, and twenty minutes later, Tanya's bus arrived, and Charlotte started funneling people into it. |
| 4469 |
Hartley was right beside her. And a moment later, Tom took off with the other vans, and Charlotte directed the handful that had stayed into trucks. There were half a dozen men, the three doctors, and Tanya, and they headed up the mountain in Jeeps, trucks, and vans, along with dozens of wranglers and ranch hands. |
| 4470 |
They traveled up the mountain for nearly half an hour and then they reached the barricades where they had to leave the trucks. They were directed to go the rest of the way on foot, and join the others on the line. They were passing buckets of water, while planes overhead were dropping chemicals on it. |
| 4471 |
Tanya took her sweater off, and tied it around her waist, she was wearing one of Gordon's T shirts, and she had never been so hot in her life. She could feel her face getting blistered, and sparks were flying around them. It was terrifying as they fought the blaze, and they weren't even in the front lines. |
| 4472 |
She took a break for a minute then, she'd been working for hours, and her arms were so sore she could hardly lift them. "What are you doing here?" He looked tired and filthy dirty, but the run to the other ranch had gone well. All the horses were safe there, and he had come up to fight the fire with the others. |
| 4473 |
A cheer went up all around, and half an hour later a band of filthy but happy people went back down the mountain. They went in trucks and vans and cars, they went on foot, and they talked and joked, and shared stories of what had gone on at the top, or off to the side, or on the trucks, or in the air. |
| 4474 |
He knew it too, and he started singing with her, and the people they passed smiled. As she sang, they began to realize who she was, and they were amazed to realize that she had come with them. It impressed a lot of them, and it had made a big impression on Charlotte Collins. Tanya had worked like a dog all night. |
| 4475 |
She'd actually had a great time with the other doctors. When they got back to the ranch, before they brought the guests back, the dining room was opened to all the workers, and a huge meal was served of fried eggs, omelettes, sausages, bacon, steaks, fried tomatoes, there were cakes and ice cream, and fried potatoes. |
| 4476 |
Zoe had been putting away supplies after the fire, and Tanya stuck around to help her after Gordon left to get the horses. But a noticeable camaraderie had sprung up among all those who'd fought the fire, and Zoe commented on how perfect for each other Gordon and Tanya seemed to her whenever she saw them together. |
| 4477 |
Tanya got in the shower, and then soaked in the Jacuzzi for an hour, and as she got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a large towel, she heard a tapping on her window. She pulled back the curtain and saw a filthy black face there, with his goggle marks, and she wanted to reach out and put her arms around him. |
| 4478 |
Mary Stuart and Zoe were already in bed. None of them slept the night before, and both of them said they were exhausted. Tanya was tired too, but she was waiting for Gordon, and it had taken hours to soak the smell of smoke out of her skin and her hair. She was all pink and clean now and smelled of perfume. |
| 4479 |
He was too tired to wait, he was dead on his feet, but she signaled to him to hold on for a second, and she ran to the door of her cabin. She had had an idea as she lay in the Jacuzzi. She turned the light out outside and in the living room, so no one would see them there, and she stood talking to him from the doorway. |
| 4480 |
He was like a little kid only too happy for the assistance, and a moment later he got into the huge sunken tub, and she turned on the jets, and he lay there with his eyes closed, feeling as though he had died and gone to Heaven. He opened his eyes once as he started to drift off to sleep and looked at her. |
| 4481 |
That wasn't the point between them. She just let him soak in the tub, and she washed his hair for him, while he lay there luxuriating. It was the best gift she could have given him, and she was glad she had insisted he come in with her. He lay in the tub for nearly an hour, and then he glanced up at her. |
| 4482 |
And then he slipped out on silent feet and was gone before anyone could see him. And when she saw him at the corral at nine o'clock, he looked clean and organized and official in a white shirt, a cowboy hat, and a pair of jeans. The horses were all sorted out and saddled, everyone looked rested again. |
| 4483 |
And she knew it. He'd probably go on like that forever, married to a woman he never touched, looked at, or spoke to. As far as she was concerned it was not too appealing. And having just spent ten days talking to Hartley constantly, the idea of going back to a silent, loveless marriage made her suicidal. |
| 4484 |
And he knew exactly what he was going to hear when she came to London. He respected her for coming to tell him herself and not writing to him, but that didn't make it any better. He was crushed when they hung up. She could have saved herself the trip. He knew precisely what she was going to tell him. |
| 4485 |
They had done the right thing for them, and he knew that. She reminded him of how much they had both been through, how much loss, how much pain, and how much wiser for them to proceed with caution. She didn't want to begin their relationship by feeling she had cheated on Bill, or left him for Hartley. |
| 4486 |
It would be better for both of them, she'd be free then. And she was more than willing to spend the rest of the summer with him at Fisher's Island. He wanted to give a dinner party for her, to introduce her to his friends, and let them know the good times had come again after nearly two years of solitude and silence. |
| 4487 |
But Gordon was a nice guy and they seemed surprisingly well matched. It actually didn't shock him. She walked down the path, as she always did, and the sky was filled with stars. It was such a pretty night, she almost hated to go in, and she could hear the horses neighing softly when she went by them. |
| 4488 |
They were lying in the dark and talking late that night when she thought she heard a crashing sound, a dog barked, and then the horses suddenly were neighing loudly. Gordon turned his head in the dark, and listened to the sounds, and then the dog barked again, and it sounded as though the horses were going crazy. |
| 4489 |
He looked so handsome as he stood there in the moonlight that she almost wanted to stop him. She kissed him long and hard and felt him aroused and he laughed softly in the darkness. "Hold that thought, I'll be right back." He headed for the corral at a run, and then she saw him slow as he rounded the corner. |
| 4490 |
And she couldn't see anything. Other than the noise the horses had made, and were still making now, everything seemed to be peaceful. But he didn't come back for a long time and after an hour, she got worried. She didn't know if one of the horses was sick, and he had to stay with it, or if something had happened. |
| 4491 |
She decided to put her own clothes on and look for him. At worst if she met someone, she could say she hadn't been able to sleep and had gone for a walk. They wouldn't know where she'd come from. She walked slowly toward the corral, and it seemed quieter suddenly, but as she turned the corner she saw them. |
| 4492 |
He thought it was probably another forest fire. Sometimes when a fire was put out, an ember smoldered for a while and then set it off again, but he saw from her face that something much worse than that had happened. He knew instantly who she was, and she grabbed his arm and tried to pull him with her. |
| 4493 |
He was still brandishing his gun and shouting obscenities at them, but he didn't shoot at anyone. Two horses lay dead, one stabbed, the other shot, and Gordon was lying on the ground bleeding profusely. There was blood everywhere, and it was spurting from his arm. Tanya understood instantly what had happened. |
| 4494 |
An artery had been cut and he was going to bleed to death in a matter of moments. She grabbed his arm and applied pressure to it, and shouted at the other wrangler to run to her cabin and get Zoe, and as she looked at him she could see Gordon fading away on her. But for a second at least the blood had slowed. |
| 4495 |
But just as she began to give up hope, a siren screamed through the night, and the wranglers directed it right down to where Gordon lay. He had just lost consciousness and his pulse was thready. He had lost a lot of blood, and Tanya was sobbing as she kept pressure on the wound while Zoe kept trying to reassure her. |
| 4496 |
Other than the tourniquet, there was nothing she could do now, except keep track of his vital signs, and pray he made it. She told the paramedics as much as she knew immediately and they had him on a stretcher in seconds. Zoe got in with them and someone handed her a long slicker to cover her nightgown with. |
| 4497 |
The rest could be sorted out later. When they reached the hospital, a code blue had been sent out, and they were met by a dozen staff, a gurney from the operating room, and two surgeons were already scrubbing. They asked Zoe if she wanted to come in, and she said she didn't think that she was needed. |
| 4498 |
There wasn't much they could do to suppress evidence or testimony and no one wanted them to, but nobody needed to call the papers. They were very sympathetic, and they knew Charlotte. They also promised to send the sheriff into the mountains to look for Gordon's attacker, and recover the horse he'd stolen. |
| 4499 |
The surgeon explained to Charlotte that there had been ligaments and nerves involved, but he thought Gordon would be fine. He didn't even think he'd need additional surgery, just therapy, and a week or two of convalescence. He had lost a lot of blood, but Tanya and Zoe had both acted quickly and saved him. |
| 4500 |
The two women left, and John Kroner went home, and she went back to Gordon. He was sleeping. And they set up a small cot in the recovery room for her, and at six in the morning, they moved him to his own room and she went with him. He was awake by then, and claimed that he was fine, but he looked pretty rocky. |
| 4501 |
She noticed just then that they had almost reached their destination. She glanced out the window and saw it. They had come around a bend, and were looking out over a bluff, just beneath the mountains. It was a place she had gone to with him the week before, and he recognized it as he looked out the window. |
| 4502 |
She was too afraid to hurt him if she moved his arm wrong. Everyone wanted to talk to him, tell him how glad they were that he was okay. They had brought him books and candy and food, and tapes. He had everything he needed. And now he had a woman who loved him, and the ranch he had always dreamed of. |
| 4503 |
It even told the story of how he'd been stabbed allegedly by another wrangler fighting over her in the corral. It made the knifing sound like a fight between two men vying for Tanya, and the article claimed she'd nearly been killed trying to stop them. She sat in her room at the ranch, feeling sick as she read it. |
| 4504 |
Rotten probably. How could he not? They managed to make everything good look sleazy. She had stayed with him the night before, and cooked dinner for him, and she hadn't even left him till daylight. It wasn't much of a secret now that she was with him. And when she'd gone back to her own cabin, she'd seen the papers. |
| 4505 |
He was riding with Zoe. Tanya was sorry not to go, but she wanted to be with Gordon. And now she wanted to talk to him about the papers. But the moment she walked in, she knew he'd seen it. There was something pained in his eyes, a kind of embarrassment, and she wondered if it was over between them. |
| 4506 |
She looked at him long and hard. He was sitting on the couch, watching TV and drinking coffee. It had been on the news too, with a picture of him, and the slasher story, but she didn't know that. He couldn't believe how they could distort the truth that way. And as he looked at her, he wondered what she was feeling. |
| 4507 |
And maybe the ninety third time it happens to you, you'll start to hate me. It's happened to me before. I know what happens. I know how it feels. It erodes your life like cancer. I've lost two husbands to it, and the third one was so corrupt he sold my ass out to the tabloids more than anyone else did. |
| 4508 |
I don't know what happened, we'd been having problems, we were dealing with the fact that she couldn't have children then and it was very difficult for her. She kind of went crazy for a while, and she put a lot of distance between us. I think she blamed me, as much as herself, because she couldn't get pregnant. |
| 4509 |
She had all the inadequacies, the neuroses, the irrationalities that made her difficult, and all the things I adored about her as well, her honesty, her loyalty, her creativity, her wonderful sense of humor, her bright mind, her discretion, her sense of fairness. There were a million things I loved about her. |
| 4510 |
They were all talking about their plans, their dreams, the things that had happened at the ranch, and how much they wanted to come back here. It had been magical for all of them. And Tanya and Gordon were talking about their plans for the ranch she had just bought. They had all but forgotten the tabloids. |
| 4511 |
She knew it would never be quite like this again. They would not be in this cabin, sealed off from the world. It would never be this simple again. They would be in their own house, and they would be part of the world after this. It would own a piece of them, and grab whatever it could take from them. |
| 4512 |
A thousand questions had been born at the ranch in those two weeks, but they did not yet have all the answers. And as Tom drove the bus away, they all sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts, thinking of the people and the dreams they'd left there. They didn't talk for a long time, and they kept to themselves. |
| 4513 |
She was in a deep sleep and smiled when they woke her. She had made them promise to come in a minute and see her baby, even though she'd be sleeping, and they'd both agreed to it. Tanya woke Mary Stuart too, and the threesome walked up the steps to Zoe's house, and waited while she found her key in her handbag. |
| 4514 |
He barely moved, and smiled as she looked at him, and then she kissed him too, gently on the cheek at first, and then on the lips as her two friends watched her. "I missed you," he whispered, and then he stood up to meet the others. He was still carrying Jade and she was sound asleep and didn't stir. |
| 4515 |
He was inquiring about exactly when she was arriving. She had her reservations made, but she had not yet told him. And there was a long list of messages for Tanya, from her lawyers, her secretary, and her agents. But looking at it now, after being in Wyoming for the past two weeks, it all seemed less important. |
| 4516 |
He was fine, working in the corral, missing her like crazy, and he'd gone up to see the house, and had a contractor drawing up plans for her. He said they'd be ready to move in, in no time. And she told him about all the horrors of coming back to work in the real world. He told her to just hang in until he got there. |
| 4517 |
But she had reserved her own room. She had no idea if Bill knew that. But actually, the hotel had told him. She went through customs easily, and reached the hotel shortly after. It was all very civilized, and when she reached Claridge's they ushered her upstairs like a visiting dignitary from another country. |
| 4518 |
By then, it was ten o'clock in the morning. But she had no idea that Bill was going crazy. He knew her plane had gotten in at seven. He assumed she had gone through customs by eight, and gotten to the hotel at nine. And he had called the desk to confirm it. He knew she was in her own room, and hadn't called him. |
| 4519 |
It was certainly a circuitous route from Wyoming. He answered on the first ring when she called him. It was awkward even speaking to him now, and she gave him her room number, and he said he'd come right down to see her. He left his secretary and told her not to disturb him. He was going to an important meeting. |
| 4520 |
And as men go, I've been pretty dumb. I've spent the last year with my head buried in my desk somewhere, thinking that if I ignored you long enough you'd go away, or my misery and my guilt would, or Todd would come back, or the stupid things I said to you would be forgotten. But none of that seemed to happen. |
| 4521 |
He had been about to tell the housekeeper to prepare for another guest in his room, and it crushed him when he realized she wasn't going to stay with him. That certainly delivered the message. "You're very angry at me, Stu," he said sadly, looking at her, wishing he could take it all back, or change it. |
| 4522 |
It was sad, the body snatchers had brought him back too late, but it probably didn't matter anyway, it was only for a visit. If she had agreed to go back to him, he probably would have been rotten to her again, and stopped talking to her, she thought as she looked at him. She didn't want to chance it. |
| 4523 |
She would never believe again that he loved her. He had proved otherwise for an entire year now. He had ignored her, abandoned her, shunned her, frozen her out, gone to London for two months, and he had never offered her a moment of comfort when their son died. He had cheated her of everything he owed her as a husband. |
| 4524 |
He had his arms around her and his face was inches from hers, and he wasn't letting go. She wanted to tell him she didn't love him anymore, but she didn't have the guts to say it. And it wasn't true yet. But it would be one day. It would just take time. She had loved him for too long for it to disappear overnight. |
| 4525 |
And the worst thing was that she wanted to kiss him. "Don't," she said, when he stopped, and they were both breathless. But she found that kissing him had soothed the hurt even if it didn't end the pain. And then he kissed her again, and she kissed him, and it felt like she never wanted him to stop, for forever. |
| 4526 |
The room was strewn with their clothes, and they were both exhausted when they finally stopped. It had been a year for both of them, and as she lay and looked at him, she grinned, and then suddenly she laughed, it was all so absurd, and he was smiling. "This is disgusting," she said, still grinning at him. |
| 4527 |
He asked her if she wanted room service, but all she wanted was to be with him, and she slept in his arms. And when she woke the next morning, he was looking at her, praying it hadn't been a dream. The one thing he knew in his life, with all the uncertainties he'd found, was that he didn't want to lose her. |
| 4528 |
He had ordered a huge breakfast for both of them, they were starving, for food and each other. And as they sat and talked, he asked her what she wanted to do that day. He made it sound as though they were on vacation. "Don't you have to work?" she asked, finishing her omelette, and taking a sip of coffee. |
| 4529 |
He swore the nightmare of the past year would never happen again, and after all the talking they'd done, she believed him. He said he wanted to take her out that afternoon, just for a walk, so he could be with her and talk to her, and remember how sweet it was to walk beside her. But he had to stop at his office first. |
| 4530 |
But she wasn't thinking of that now, she was thinking of him, the man who had ridden through the wildflowers with her in Wyoming. She went downstairs and spoke to the concierge, and he said it was no problem to send it for her, although he reminded her that her husband had a private fax already set up in his office. |
| 4531 |
She'd been saying good bye to a friend. And then, she took her husband's hand, and they walked out into the sunshine. The doorman watched them as they walked away, hand in hand, and he smiled. It was nice, and so rare, when you saw happy couples. Life seemed so easy for them. Or maybe they were just lucky. |
| 4532 |
They were well made but unexciting and stymied all her creative sense. Walter Adams, whose father had founded the company, staunchly believed that high fashion shoes were a passing trend, and he discarded all her more innovative designs. As a result, Claire's workdays were a source of constant frustration. |
| 4533 |
Walter resisted her every step of the way on every subject. She was sure that business, and their profits, would have improved if he listened to her, but Walter was seventy two years old, believed in what they were doing, and did not believe in high style shoes, no matter how fervently she begged him to try. |
| 4534 |
Walter wouldn't hear of it, and scolded her sternly when she tried to push, which she still did. She had never given up trying to add some real style to what she did. He had hired her because she was a good, solid, well trained designer who knew how to create shoes that were comfortable to wear and easy to produce. |
| 4535 |
It was a dream she refused to give up. Her long, straight blond hair hung damply on her neck by the time she reached the fourth floor in high heels. After nine years, she was used to the climb, and claimed that it kept her legs in shape. She had found the apartment by accident, by walking around the neighborhood. |
| 4536 |
It was the same school where her mother had studied interior design in her youth. It had been Claire's dream to attend Parsons and study fashion design. Despite their tight budget, her mother had saved every penny she could and made it possible for her to enroll and live in the dorm for her first year. |
| 4537 |
The owner said he had a loft available on the fourth floor. The building was an old factory that had been changed into living space fifteen years before, and he said it was rent stabilized, which sounded hopeful to her. When she went to see it the next day, she was stunned to find the space was vast. |
| 4538 |
They were busy, had full lives and demanding jobs, and they enjoyed the time they spent together. And all four still agreed, the apartment Claire had discovered nine years before was a rare find, and a gem. They loved living in Hell's Kitchen, for its history and still slightly seedy quality, and it was safe. |
| 4539 |
And they had all chipped in to purchase air conditioning units that took a while to work in the vast space they used as a living room, but the place cooled down eventually, and the heat worked fairly decently in winter, and their bedrooms were small, cozy, and warm. They had all the comforts they wanted and needed. |
| 4540 |
She had watched her mother abandon her dreams for him, shelve her own career, pass up bigger opportunities, and hide her talents, in order to shore him up and protect him. It had given Claire an iron determination never to compromise her career for a man, and she had said for years that she never wanted to get married. |
| 4541 |
She loved her husband and made the best of the hand she'd been dealt, which Claire found particularly sad. Their whole life had been spent making do, depriving themselves of luxuries and sometimes even vacations, so Claire could go to a good school, which her mother had always paid for from her secret fund. |
| 4542 |
Their father had fallen in love with a young model in one of the department stores he owned, and married her a year later, and had two daughters by his new wife, which enraged the twins' mother even more, proving that hell hath no fury like a woman whose husband leaves her and marries a twenty three year old model. |
| 4543 |
Valentina had no interest in them and thought their father was ridiculous, but Sasha thought their half sisters were sweet and had remained close to her father after the divorce. Their mother was a divorce lawyer in Atlanta, and was known to be a shark in the courtroom, particularly since her own divorce. |
| 4544 |
The four women's careers had gone forward at a steady pace in the five years they'd lived together, Claire at both shoe companies she'd worked for. She dreamed of working for a high end shoe company one day, but she was making a decent salary, even if she wasn't proud of the shoes she was designing. |
| 4545 |
At thirty nine, George had built an empire for himself, in private investment management, and Morgan loved her work with him, consulting with clients on their investments and flying to exciting meetings in other cities on his plane. She admired her boss immensely and at thirty three, she was meeting her goals. |
| 4546 |
He had assured her that what she was writing now was far more important, avant garde, and likely to make a name for her than the "commercial drivel" she had written before, and she believed him. He had promised to produce her plays, but hadn't done so yet after three years, and only produced his own. |
| 4547 |
Her roommates suspected he was a fraud, but Abby was convinced he was talented, sincere, and a genius. Ivan was forty six years old, and Abby was working as his assistant, vacuuming the theater, painting scenery, and working the box office for him. For the past three years she had been his full time slave. |
| 4548 |
And much to her roommates' dismay, Abby was always willing to believe him and give him another chance. Ivan was like playing a slot machine that never paid off. The others had lost patience with him long since. They didn't find him charming, but Abby did. She was trusting and loving and hung on his every word. |
| 4549 |
Their mothers were both actresses who had become successful after their affairs with him, and he said they were far better able to provide for the children than he. He was a man who shirked responsibility at every turn. He had bewitched Abby, and they all hoped she would wake up soon. She hadn't in three years. |
| 4550 |
And it wasn't the first inadequate relationship Abby had had. She was their resident collector of wounded birds. In the five years they'd all lived together, there had been an actor who was dead broke and could never get a job, even as a waiter, and had spent a month on their couch until the others complained. |
| 4551 |
There had been writers, and other actors, and a down on his luck though brilliant British aristocrat who had constantly borrowed money from her, and a series of losers, aspiring artists, and men who had disappointed her constantly until she gave up. And unfortunately she wasn't ready to give up on Ivan yet. |
| 4552 |
She worked so hard she rarely had time to date and didn't care. She worked late at night and on weekends. Her career as a designer meant more to her than any man. She was burning with the ambition her mother had never had. And nothing and no one was going to take that from her. Of that she was sure. |
| 4553 |
She was either on duty, exhausted, or asleep. She was spectacular looking, but she literally had no time for a man, and spent her life in hospital scrubs, unlike her equally beautiful twin, who partied all the time. Sasha liked the idea of marriage and a family in theory, but for her it was still years away. |
| 4554 |
And in reality, she often thought that staying single would be simpler. And the men she went out with occasionally got tired of the demands on her within weeks. Of the four roommates, only Morgan had a serious relationship, and fortunately they all liked him, since he frequently spent nights at the apartment. |
| 4555 |
They were generous and good natured, and never quibbled over money. They were respectful of one another, which was why their living arrangement worked so well. "I'm too tired to eat," Abby said, and the paint had made her feel sick. Ivan had changed his mind about the color of the scenery four times. |
| 4556 |
She was all legs and high heels in a navy linen suit with a short skirt. Her dark hair was fashionably cut to her shoulders, and she was carrying several takeout containers from Max's restaurant. She set them down on the industrial metal table Claire's mother had found for them at a terrific price online. |
| 4557 |
The chicken smelled delicious. The three of them went to the kitchen, got out plates and cutlery, and Morgan opened a bottle of wine for them to share, as Abby went to get napkins and glasses, and a minute later they were seated at the table, laughing and talking, as Claire described her new intern to them. |
| 4558 |
Their exchanges were always good humored, there was no jealousy between them, they were just good friends with no ax to grind, and they knew each other well, their weaknesses and their strengths. They were forgiving, tolerant of occasional bad moods, and were a strong support system in the challenges that they faced. |
| 4559 |
They each supported one another in their endeavors. It was exactly what a family should be, Claire thought, as she came up with a detail she really liked on one of her drawings. And the best part for all of them was that this was not the family that they had been born with, this was the family they had chosen. |
| 4560 |
And it worked for all of them. As Claire thought about it and continued drawing, she hoped they would live there together forever, or for a very, very long time. The apartment was quiet as she mused about it. The others were asleep by then. She was the night owl in the group, and she liked working late. |
| 4561 |
He had made some very profitable investments for one of the potential client's friends, and Morgan had done her homework for the meeting, and had discussed George's plans for him at length. She had contributed several additional suggestions that George liked and was planning to present too. They were a good team. |
| 4562 |
George was a handsome, successful bachelor, but his relationship with Morgan had always been strictly business. He never played where he worked, which she respected about him. At thirty nine, he was hotly pursued by every gold digger in New York, and some very nice women too, some of them with a great deal of money. |
| 4563 |
They felt safe with George since he had his own. He had made a fortune in recent years, and Morgan respected him for that. He was brilliant at what he did, and deserved his success. She had learned a lot from him in the past three years. They never saw each other socially, but she enjoyed traveling with him. |
| 4564 |
He was smooth as silk, and Morgan loved watching him handle their clients. He had it down to a fine art. She went back to her own office then, and the day flew by with meetings, and some research she had to do after their meeting that morning. She always did her homework and followed up meticulously. |
| 4565 |
He always wanted to play it safe, both with production quantity and design. She wished he would give her more leeway, but he never did. He never budged on anything. And Monique, the new French intern, irritated her all day. Claire felt like she was babysitting a petulant child and didn't have time to entertain her. |
| 4566 |
By the time she got back to the apartment, Claire was seriously aggravated, and wished she had the guts to quit. But she needed the money, and didn't want to take a chance on being out of work while she looked, or risking the job she had if she started looking and Walter heard about it and fired her. |
| 4567 |
She could see her lying on the couch, barefoot and in shorts, reading a magazine. Sasha glanced up at her and smiled, sipping a glass of wine, which meant she was off call, which was a relief for her. She hardly ever got time off, and Claire couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her read a magazine. |
| 4568 |
Their father had sent it to her from one of his stores in Atlanta, it was by a well known designer, and he knew she never had time to shop for clothes. Valentina had no problem buying clothes for herself, or taking what she wanted from her sister. And she got a lot of the clothes she modeled after the shoots. |
| 4569 |
He was a good looking guy, but they had nothing in common, and she doubted he would ask her out again. "So what do you do?" he asked her, shouting over the din of the noisy restaurant after they had ordered. She noticed that his muscles rippled under the black T shirt he was wearing with black jeans. |
| 4570 |
None of it seemed worth it. And it felt humiliating and stupid to have participated at all. She heard sirens in the distance as the cab approached her street, and she saw half a dozen fire trucks and a chief's car, parked helter skelter, and several policemen blocking traffic from entering the street. |
| 4571 |
The hub of activity appeared to be in the middle of the block, where men were running. Firefighters wearing heavy packs, helmets, and face masks were lumbering down the block at full speed. She could see ladders going up the front of two buildings, and then realized how close their building was to the fire. |
| 4572 |
And there were firemen on the roof to make holes in it with axes to let out some of the heat, while others shot water into the blaze. The smoke emerging from the buildings was inky black, which she knew meant the fire was still raging. Once under control, the smoke would be white, but it wasn't yet. |
| 4573 |
She and Claire continued talking for the next hour, neither of them wanting to leave where they were standing and miss something important that might happen. And then finally, an hour later, the first sign of white smoke came through the holes in the three roofs and out the windows of the buildings. |
| 4574 |
And the ambulances had raced past her several times. Sasha had lost count how many, and she had noticed somberly two gurneys with lifeless forms on them, and blankets covering the bodies, and she had seen a firefighter carried to an ambulance when another firefighter had dragged him out of the building, injured. |
| 4575 |
Morgan suggested they meet at Max's restaurant, half a block from where they were standing, at the other end of the street. Their building was no longer at risk, but they'd been told it would be another hour or two before they would be allowed back into their home. Sasha was sure it would reek of smoke when they did. |
| 4576 |
One of the firemen had told Morgan it started as an electrical fire, in a building that hadn't been renovated like theirs, and since it was rent controlled, it had some of the original tenants in it. They shared a bottle of wine at Max's, and finally at three thirty, they were allowed to go back to their apartment. |
| 4577 |
They had installed smoke detectors in the loft years before, and had never had a fire in the neighborhood come as close as that. It was an eerie, depressing feeling, especially knowing people had died. It was five in the morning before they all went to bed, and just before they did, Claire turned to Sasha. |
| 4578 |
As she lay down and closed her eyes for a minute, he slipped totally from her mind into oblivion, where he belonged. It had been a long night, and it had been frightening for those at risk of losing their homes, and tragic for those who had died, all of which made her date seem utterly inconsequential. |
| 4579 |
Abby had come to the theater with an envelope just like it three years ago, when Ivan first convinced her to try her hand at writing a play instead of her novel, and then promised to produce it. Abby heard an alarm bell go off in her head, and sensed danger. "Are you a set designer?" the girl asked with interest. |
| 4580 |
There was no reason for her to worry, and Ivan had every right to read other people's plays. Although he only did his own very avant garde plays, which never got good reviews, or even attracted the notice of the press. Ivan was particularly irate that every play he had produced and directed was ignored. |
| 4581 |
But he was so knowledgeable about everything involving experimental theater that Abby considered him one of the unsung heroes of his time. And apparently this girl thought so too. She sat down in the second row of the theater and prepared to wait while Abby continued painting scenery with a shaking hand. |
| 4582 |
He mesmerized her, and she would have done anything for him. And they both jumped when the girl spoke in a soft voice from the second row in the dimly lit theater. Abby had turned the house lights down, and had kept only the spotlights bright on the stage so she could see her work, and had forgotten she was there. |
| 4583 |
But she didn't say anything as she continued painting the scenery, and pretended not to listen. The girl instantly accepted his offer, and they left the theater a few minutes later, deep in conversation about her play, as she explained its message to him. And for a minute, Abby felt sick. She had heard it all before. |
| 4584 |
And she had seen him flirt with other young girls, actresses they auditioned, or young directors seeking work. She never took it seriously, or felt threatened by it, but this time, for some unknown reason, she did. The girl looked so innocent but determined, and he was so intense when he talked to her. |
| 4585 |
It was small and disorderly, but they could be alone for the tantalizing things they did in bed. He kissed her again before she left, and the girl seemed insignificant to Abby now. She was a means to an end, money for his theater, which Abby knew he needed desperately. Even his regular supporters had limited funds. |
| 4586 |
Claire complained about her French intern again, Morgan said she had a slew of new clients, Sasha was hoping to work at the infertility clinic in the coming months and was excited about it, and they had agreed to buy a new black leather couch for the apartment from one of Claire's mother's decorating resources. |
| 4587 |
They ordered their favorite dishes for dinner, and tried a few new things Max had added to the menu and recommended, and no one was disappointed by the meal. And Sasha made them all laugh when she described her date with the underwear model. She didn't expect to hear from him again, and didn't care. |
| 4588 |
They were pulling her in for a set of twins. They had admitted the mother to the hospital a week before, to stop premature labor, but they couldn't hold it off anymore. The babies were a month early, and had had complications. The text said she was dilating rapidly, and they wanted Sasha in right away. |
| 4589 |
They had a beautiful apartment, and loved entertaining friends, which they did well, unlike Morgan, who had never been the homemaker her brother was, and she couldn't cook as well as Max, who had made Thanksgiving for them the year before. Sasha left quickly after that, while the others made plans for the fall. |
| 4590 |
She was too scared that everything would go wrong. She sailed out of the elevator as she thought about it, and crashed into a doctor wearing a white coat. He was headed in the direction of labor and delivery as she was, and she almost knocked him down, and herself, when she bumped into him going full speed. |
| 4591 |
They were talking about a C section, but hadn't made the decision yet. The twins' mother had wanted a natural birth, but was changing her mind about it rapidly, faced with the pain of contractions. She was crying while the younger man with her stroked her head and held her hand and spoke to her soothingly. |
| 4592 |
He had seemed panicked when Sasha walked into the room. She had a wonderful way of calming her patients, and making them feel like everything was under control. She made solid, rapid, good decisions, and her bedside manner was excellent. All of the doctors she had trained with were impressed with her. |
| 4593 |
But twins at thirty six weeks were a fairly normal occurrence, and the fetal monitors attached to the mother's belly and internally told them that the babies were doing well. They lightened up on the epidural so she could push effectively, and she started to scream again and said it was too much pain. |
| 4594 |
Sasha congratulated the couple, and did some minor repair work to the mom after the babies left the room. They had given the mother something to sedate her, and she was shaking violently from what she'd just been through, which was normal too. Sasha made easy conversation with her, as she did some stitches. |
| 4595 |
He had brought several loaves of French bread, freshly baked focaccia, half a dozen different cheeses, and a chocolate cake that had been baked that afternoon. Everyone was in good spirits, and gathered around the kitchen while he cooked. Morgan and Claire set the table. Oliver opened the wine to let it breathe. |
| 4596 |
And Sasha came home from work right before they sat down, and joined them wearing the familiar blue scrubs. Greg had put some music on, and the atmosphere was festive as Max poured the wine, and Morgan set the plates down at each place piled with food. It was a feast, and the kind of Sunday evening they all loved. |
| 4597 |
They disappeared into her room, and talked quietly, sitting on the bed. He loved spending nights with her there, although he teased her about it and said it was like sleeping in a girls' dorm, but he loved the warm, welcoming atmosphere. It felt like a home, not just an apartment shared by four women. |
| 4598 |
He was such a good man. She didn't know how she'd been lucky enough to find him, but she knew it was a blessing that she had. She and Oliver had both been lucky with their partners, and they had created the kind of relationships they wanted, which were nothing like what they'd seen when they were growing up. |
| 4599 |
He was loved by all. Morgan was at her office before anyone else the next day. She wanted to get ready for her first meeting, and still had research she wanted to read, and to check some numbers on her computer. There was an investment that George wanted to make, and she had promised him her opinion before the meeting. |
| 4600 |
Sasha didn't have to be at work until noon after their Sunday night dinner, so she could sleep in, and still almost overslept anyway. She was rushing again as she got to the hospital. She was wearing black jeans and a white sweater, and grabbed her white doctor's coat with her name on it out of her locker. |
| 4601 |
The surrogate was married, in her thirties, and had three children. It was the second time she had lent her body for surrogacy. She thought it was a noble cause, and it was a good source of income for her. The twins' biological parents had been desperate to have a baby, and had been willing to pay almost anything. |
| 4602 |
He just seemed like a friendly guy at work, and she thought of him as collegial and nothing else. She didn't have the vaguest idea that he was interested in her. "Either one," she said, noncommittal and businesslike, thinking about the babies she was about to deliver and hand over to their legal parents. |
| 4603 |
Sasha was already in the labor room, checking her patient, who was handling the contractions well. The parents were so excited they were already crying, and it wasn't even time to push. They could hardly wait to get their babies in their arms. But for now, the surrogate was her patient, and Sasha was focusing on her. |
| 4604 |
Claire went to her bedroom and changed out of her work clothes, trying not to think about her problems with her boss. And her mother called her a little while later, just to see how she was. Claire tried to talk to her at least once a week, but sometimes she got too busy, or forgot, or the time difference was wrong. |
| 4605 |
She always belittled what she was doing, and made it sound like a favor, instead of work, which was how she portrayed it to her husband if he saw her with samples or found out. She had been treating her decorating work that way for years, although she did a beautiful job and her clients loved what she did. |
| 4606 |
She usually came in under budget, and had a knack for finding good looking accessories and furniture at reasonable prices. She and Claire had decorated the loft together nine years before, and added new pieces from time to time, to keep it up to date and interesting looking. The others loved what Sarah did for them. |
| 4607 |
And their life in San Francisco had shrunk steadily over the years. Embarrassed over his many failures, Jim no longer wanted to travel or entertain, and Claire thought they led a sad life. He hated the opera, symphony, and ballet, which her mother loved, never went to the theater, and they had few friends. |
| 4608 |
She wished that she could kidnap her mother and take her back to New York with her, and free her from the dreary life she led. She deserved so much better, but her mother insisted she was fine. Things hadn't turned out as she'd hoped, but she was an intrinsically cheerful person and never complained. |
| 4609 |
Her parents had been busy when she was growing up, and never there. They left her with a nanny, while they pursued their careers, and she had been starving for affection ever since. They loved her, but just didn't have enough time for her. Even now, she had to speak to assistants when she called them. |
| 4610 |
Her father had met him once and didn't like him. Ivan's credentials didn't impress him, and he thought he was arrogant, a pretentious phony, and her father wanted her to come back to L.A. and work on her novel. But he and Abby's mother felt she was old enough to make her own decisions, and mistakes. |
| 4611 |
He had a thousand explanations and excuses, and begged her not to give up and be a commercial hack like her parents. He had nothing but contempt for what Abby's mother wrote, no matter how successful she was. He felt that Abby had a much greater, purer talent, and he pleaded with her to hold out. So far she had. |
| 4612 |
Ivan left the theater early that night to meet with the partner of the backer he had met the night before. And Abby was relieved that there had been no sign of Daphne. Abby acted as house manager for him, and handled everything, as she always did. She got home at midnight, after everyone had gone to bed. |
| 4613 |
They'd had no big emergencies so far, and several of their patients from the day before had been moved to the healthy baby nursery. "It's been pretty civilized," Sasha said easily. She had no one in labor at that precise moment, only patients she had already delivered, and the ones from the day before. |
| 4614 |
I have three roommates. They've kind of become my family, since I hardly ever get home, and my own family has been pretty disjointed since my parents' divorce when I was twenty five. You think you're all grown up then, but it hit us pretty hard. My father is remarried and has two little girls, and my mom isn't. |
| 4615 |
His own biological family sounded more run of the mill than hers. His parents were still married. He had a brother who was four years older than he, and was thirty six and still single. They still all got together for vacations and holidays since neither son was married, and they enjoyed spending time together. |
| 4616 |
The men she was attracted to always appeared unsavory to Sasha. They were the exact opposite of someone like Alex, whom Valentina wouldn't have given the time of day. Sasha loved how normal he sounded, as far as she could tell. He had a stable background, and a family he still liked to hang out with. |
| 4617 |
Valentina had played with drugs for a while, which were common in that world. At thirty two, she was saner now, and still a top model, but one day her career would be over, and Sasha couldn't imagine her sister leading a quiet life with a husband and kids. She needed the frenzy and glamour now, and the high life. |
| 4618 |
She didn't flirt with him, or act coy, and she treated him like a pal more than a date. He wasn't sure what that meant. Maybe she wasn't interested in him, or attracted to him. He hadn't figured that out yet, and Sasha looked surprised for a minute when he asked about dinner, as though that hadn't occurred to her. |
| 4619 |
He wasn't her style, and she suspected her sister would find him boring, which Sasha didn't find him at all. Their conversation had been lively and thoughtful, and she liked that there was no artifice about him, and he didn't seem to have a big ego, which was something she didn't like about male doctors. |
| 4620 |
He was one of the most sought after bachelors in town. And at a glance, she could see that there was a good looking older man waiting for him at the door. But he seemed to be in no rush to join him. "It was wonderful to meet you," he said to Claire, lingering for an instant, before he left them reluctantly. |
| 4621 |
And he's actually very serious about his work. But he likes beautiful women, kind of as an accessory, I suspect. I've never known him to get serious about anyone. He doesn't talk about his private life at work, but he's on Page Six a lot, and he dates some very well known women, mostly actresses and models. |
| 4622 |
She felt like she was killing her career just for a paycheck, and not a huge one at that. She had wanted Morgan's support and encouragement, and she had gotten that. Morgan never disappointed her, and she had great respect for her advice. And when the check came, Claire treated her, to thank her for her help. |
| 4623 |
She was nowhere in their league, and it felt strange to be the object of his attentions. She almost called Morgan to tell her about it, but decided not to. It didn't mean anything. He was just a rich, successful guy playing a game, and she had no intention of playing it with him. But the flowers were beautiful. |
| 4624 |
She had no idea how to deal with someone like him. He was so totally out of her league. She was hoping he'd lose interest in her before he called her or sent any more gifts. And she still hadn't said anything to Morgan about him, nor had she mentioned him to the others. He was rapidly becoming a dark secret. |
| 4625 |
Walter was annoying her more than ever, and being constantly critical, and in her face. George was the bright spot in her life at the moment, although his attention made her nervous. He was just a player flirting with her, she was sure, and she reminded herself to keep her eye on the ball, which was her job. |
| 4626 |
And he was right, the food at the restaurant he'd chosen was delicious, and they served it quickly. They sat relaxing afterward, talking about skiing and sailing and their favorite books. They liked some of the same authors, and confessed with some embarrassment that both of them had been good students. |
| 4627 |
The hospital hadn't called her all through dinner, and she decided to go home when they left the restaurant, but she invited him to dinner at the loft the next day. She was off duty and so was he. Max was cooking, everyone was coming, and it would be a nice opportunity for Alex to meet them in a low key way. |
| 4628 |
But she was happy he'd come to dinner so everyone could meet him and he could see where she lived, and with whom. As usual, dinner was delicious. Max had made a French style leg of lamb, with lots of garlic, mashed potatoes, and string beans. And he had brought tiramisu from the restaurant for dessert. |
| 4629 |
They had flown back on his private plane, which was nothing unusual for her, but she said that Jean Pierre was different from any man she had ever known, and he seemed to know everyone in the world. Sasha had heard all of it before, but she was pleased that her sister was happy, as long as he was a decent guy. |
| 4630 |
She no longer did the ingenue shoots, where they used fourteen year old models, but there was still plenty of work for her, and her agency booked her for great shoots all the time, even for American Vogue. She told Sasha that they were pissed at her for staying in St. Bart's for so long, but she'd had a ball. |
| 4631 |
Sasha introduced them, and he scolded her for not telling him that her sister was an identical twin. Both girls laughed at what he said and at the stunned expression on his face. Valentina was vastly amused. He looked shocked. And admittedly, her outfit was a jolt, like an electric charge. For Valentina, it was tame. |
| 4632 |
Sasha had to go then, and the two women left Alex to eat his lunch and ponder the creature he had met. With their two very different styles, despite their identical faces and bodies, at least he couldn't get them confused. Sasha walked her through the lobby and kissed her again at the revolving door. |
| 4633 |
She loves confusing people. She used to love driving my roommates nuts, pretending to be me. Claire is the only one who can tell us apart. No one else can, not even our parents, they never could. It was kind of fun being a twin, except when I was taking the rap for her. I'm glad you met her before she left town. |
| 4634 |
He was very smooth. He called her several times, just to say hello and see how she was, before he asked her out. And then finally after a week of calls and flowers, he invited her to dinner and she gently explained to him that she had to work. His pursuit of her was so determined that she was scared. |
| 4635 |
If she fell for him, it might dilute her energy or alter her focus and jeopardize her work, which was what had happened to her mother. She had let a man rob her of a promising career. Claire was never going to let that happen to her. She had decided that as a young girl. And George was much too seductive. |
| 4636 |
He was a master at it. And he always got his way. She wore a simple black dress for their date, and a gorgeous pair of high heels. Her blond hair was in a sleek bun, with a tiny pair of diamond studs on her ears that she had bought herself. She looked simple and elegant and very striking when he picked her up. |
| 4637 |
He was a pro at this, but Claire was so impeccably put together, and her natural beauty shone like a beacon at the restaurant. He picked her up in the black Ferrari he drove to work every day, and took her to his favorite uptown restaurant, La Grenouille, for a fabulous meal. He asked her a million questions at dinner. |
| 4638 |
He wanted to know everything about her, and he was impressed by how dedicated she was to her career. She didn't tell him about her mother, and why she considered any serious relationship a threat to her goals. After her second glass of champagne, she asked him why he hadn't married yet, and he was pensive for a minute. |
| 4639 |
She almost cried as they held hands. But you couldn't ignore the power of what he said. He was a man who had lost everyone he'd ever loved, and his entire family by the time he was eighteen, and he was willing to admit that he had never fully given his heart ever since, and now he was tentatively offering it to her. |
| 4640 |
He said he'd pick her up at nine o'clock on Saturday morning, and told her to wear casual warm clothes. The week flew by as she thought of him, and he called her several times, first thing in the morning, when she woke up, or late at night. He sent her funny text messages throughout the day to make her laugh. |
| 4641 |
And then, laughing like two kids, they went to the local drugstore to buy toothbrushes, and whatever else they needed for the night. Neither of them had planned to stay in Vermont. It wasn't a seduction scene he had sprung on her, it was a decision he had let her make, so she felt comfortable and not forced. |
| 4642 |
He was a tall, powerful looking, heavyset man with gray hair and piercing dark eyes. If Sasha had met him on the street, she would have said he had a mean face, but he was wreathed in smiles when he gave her a hug and kissed her on both cheeks and looked like a teddy bear. A teddy bear who would eat his young. |
| 4643 |
He looked like he had X ray vision. And she wouldn't have trusted him farther than she could throw him. He hadn't said or done anything wrong, but something about him just didn't feel right. They chatted for a while, sitting on the couch in Valentina's apartment, and finally Sasha got up and said she had to go. |
| 4644 |
I just met Valentina's boyfriend, and I can't tell you what's wrong with him, but something didn't feel right. That always happens with her, and later we find out they were dealing heroin to small children. This one's a little better, or a little smoother maybe, but he's got the meanest eyes I've ever seen. |
| 4645 |
And even though she didn't want to believe it yet, she knew it was true. This was it. She just hadn't expected him to come into her life so soon. She wondered sometimes if this was what had happened to her mother, when she had fallen head over heels in love with Claire's father, and followed him to San Francisco. |
| 4646 |
It explained how desperate she was to remain independent and do her work. She never wanted to be dependent on a man, even him. And George understood. They went water skiing in Miami off a yacht he had chartered for the day, and ate at all the best restaurants. She felt like a fairy princess living in a dream with him. |
| 4647 |
She called them to have them send her the right ones, and something caught her eye on the balance sheets while she waited for them to pick them up. There had been a transfer of a hundred thousand dollars, and a withdrawal of twenty thousand that didn't look right to her. The money didn't belong in that account. |
| 4648 |
She wondered if it had been an error in accounting that they had corrected. All the numbers looked right at the end, but there had been some moving and shifting that she couldn't explain. She thought about telling George about it, but since the money had all ended up in the right place, it didn't really matter. |
| 4649 |
But it seemed odd to her. A lot of money came in and out of their office for clients, and she knew George had a remarkable head for numbers and a keen radar, and he kept a close eye on their books. It was important to do that in a firm like theirs, so maybe he knew about it, and had demanded the correction. |
| 4650 |
They had a number of new clients, and she had a lot of work to do. She had noticed what good spirits George was in since he'd started seeing Claire, and he didn't say anything to Morgan, but he looked like a man in love. She had never seen him as happy or as relaxed, and Claire was like a field of flowers in spring. |
| 4651 |
Alex fit in perfectly to their self made family, and the others hoped that he'd stick. It was too soon to tell. The only one who clearly wasn't happy, and seemed downright miserable, was Abby. Ivan was torturing her, and there were even more excuses than before about why he wasn't around, or was out of range. |
| 4652 |
He was sick, he had a migraine, he had put his back out moving scenery, he had to meet with backers or his accountant, he was reading new plays, he was exhausted from reading new plays, his cell battery had died, and he lost the phone itself once or twice a week, or there was no cell service wherever he'd been. |
| 4653 |
Abby was tired of his excuses. He was beginning to seem like the liar he was. And when Abby asked Daphne about her father one afternoon, to be polite, and where he was traveling these days, Daphne looked at her blankly, and with a wistful expression said he had died two years before. The jig was up. |
| 4654 |
Abby said nothing to her, but she was waiting for Ivan at the theater when he got there that night. He had a meeting in his office with Daphne that lasted for nearly an hour, and when she slipped out of his office looking flushed and sweaty, Abby quietly went in. She was not going to be put off anymore. |
| 4655 |
I don't care who you're screwing or who you're lying to. I've closed my eyes and my ears and my mind for three years because I loved you and I believed you. I don't love you or believe you anymore, and one day she won't either, and you can find another young blonde to give you blow jobs in your office and screw you. |
| 4656 |
Abby was walking back to the apartment by then, at a rapid pace, with adrenaline pumping in her veins. There were tears running down her face, but she didn't know it and wouldn't have cared. When Daphne came on the scene, it made her realize she'd never had him, he had just used her, and he wasn't worth having anyway. |
| 4657 |
She knew she'd be sad that night, when she thought about it, and remembered the good times, whatever they were, but she was twenty nine years old and couldn't let guys like him use her anymore. She had to start over, she had to do it right next time, and she had to work with people who kept their word. |
| 4658 |
The four of them had dinner together that night, and talked about it. It was like having three sisters who were there for her when it counted. She was going to call her parents and tell them too, but not yet. They all drank a lot of wine that night and went to bed early. Abby didn't know what she was going to do now. |
| 4659 |
With the pure rage that was spewing out of her for Ivan, her writing was stronger, clearer, and more honest than it had ever been. Her anger fueled her, and she was doing the best work she'd done in years, as she holed up in the apartment, writing day after day while the others went to work. But she wasn't shirking. |
| 4660 |
She didn't want her to wind up with a broken heart, and Sarah vaguely remembered that he was something of a playboy, which wasn't surprising for a relatively young man who had made a fortune. He had the world at his feet, and now her daughter in his arms. She hoped he was sincere about her, and not just playing. |
| 4661 |
Their holidays had been grim for the last several years, with her father making constantly gloomy comments, about the state of the economy and the world. She didn't want to drag George into it, although she might have to someday, but not just yet. She was planning to warn him that she had to go home for a few days. |
| 4662 |
He loved going to parties with her, but he put his foot down on spending a night with her and her roommates at the loft. "I'm too old to spend a night with all your roommates." He liked his privacy and his comfort, and all the luxuries he was used to. And he liked sleeping in his own bed, preferably with her. |
| 4663 |
But she hadn't left anything there yet, it seemed too soon. She took a small bag with her when she spent the night and took it all home with her afterward. She didn't want to be presumptuous and look like she was moving in. She respected his space. He had been a bachelor for a long time, and he was set in his ways. |
| 4664 |
He had a houseman and a maid at his apartment, and they took good care of him. She still felt a little awkward when they served her breakfast in the morning, but they were very nice to her. It was an easy way of life to get used to. And he talked as though he expected her to be there for a long time, hopefully forever. |
| 4665 |
They had both tried to negotiate their schedules, so they could work and be on call on the same days, and have the same days off, and some of the time it worked, and they did fun things. They went to concerts at Lincoln Center, and she met his friends, most of whom she liked when they had dinner with them. |
| 4666 |
They climbed into bed rapidly and laughed when it creaked, and they instantly forgot about it in a rush of desire that surprised them both. After a month of waiting while they got to know each other, now this was all they wanted, and they were both breathless afterward as they lay in bed and he admired her body. |
| 4667 |
They were quiet on the ride back, listening to music, and thinking about what had happened that weekend. She leaned over and kissed him, and he smiled at her. He had never felt more elated or at peace in his life. They took their time driving back to the city, after a last walk on the beach at the end of the day. |
| 4668 |
There were no secrets in the group. As they always did, they sat talking for a long time. The candles burned low on the table, and everyone was full and relaxed when the others went home. And after Sasha helped with the dishes, she and Alex went to her room and got into bed, as though they'd been doing it for years. |
| 4669 |
The next thing he knew, it was six o'clock, the alarm had gone off, and it was time to go to work. They were on the same schedule that day. She showered first, and then made him breakfast while he showered and dressed. She had it on the table for him when he walked out of her bedroom. The others were all still asleep. |
| 4670 |
Staying with her had worked out better than he had expected. No one made an issue of it, and he felt as though he fit right in. Max had spent the night too, and the loft was big enough for all of them, especially with different schedules. Sasha shared a bathroom with Abby, who wouldn't be up before noon. |
| 4671 |
And then they walked into the hospital together, kissed, and wished each other a good day. Sasha was smiling when she got to the nurses' station, and looked at the chalkboard on the wall to see who was in active labor, who had delivered, when, and how many patients they had. "Full house," she commented to the nurses. |
| 4672 |
His parents always hosted dinner, he and his brother were there, and a few friends of his parents who had nowhere else to go. "I'd like to bring a friend with me, if that's okay with you," he told his mother on the phone, and she immediately made it clear that any friend of his or Ben's was welcome. |
| 4673 |
This was a first for him. Ben had had a girlfriend for two years, and she had joined them, but she and Ben had broken up that summer. So now it was his turn, and he had suspected his parents would be welcoming about it, but he still wanted to give them the courtesy of asking before he said anything to Sasha. |
| 4674 |
But he had been very upset about the breakup, and had only just started dating again recently, but there was no one important in his life yet. Alex talked to her for a few minutes, and was excited to speak to Sasha that afternoon when they left work together. He had been staying at the apartment with her. |
| 4675 |
She didn't enjoy her stepmother, although she was a sweet woman, and her mother was just too difficult and hadn't done Thanksgiving dinner in years. She went to a friend's house every year, and was happy not to be bothered, so this was going to be the first family Thanksgiving Sasha had had in a long time. |
| 4676 |
He was ecstatic that she was coming home with him. And he wanted to show her all his favorite haunts in Chicago. It was going to be a fantastic weekend. Sasha called Oliver that night to tell him about her change of plans and that she wouldn't be at their Thanksgiving dinner, and he was happy for her. |
| 4677 |
He was scanning them daily now for mention of her, so he could complain that she was out partying too much to do her job. She wasn't going to add fuel to the fire by refusing to go to an important trade show with him, even if it sounded insignificant to George. "You don't even like your job," he reminded her. |
| 4678 |
The word was unfamiliar to him. They finished dinner in silence, and he took her home to Hell's Kitchen in the Ferrari in a huff, and went back to his apartment after he dropped her off. He never stayed at the loft with her anyway, but he didn't invite her to stay with him uptown that night. He was mad. |
| 4679 |
The turkey wasn't dry, the stuffing was perfect, there was cranberry jelly, mashed potatoes, an assortment of vegetables, and pumpkin, pecan, and apple pie for dessert, with whipped cream. "I thought we should have our own Thanksgiving dinner, since we won't be together," he said lovingly to Claire. |
| 4680 |
It was not something she had ever longed for, but she could see herself having children with him now, and now it was her hope too. He hadn't proposed to her that night, but he had said he wanted her to be the mother of his children, which was almost the same thing. Her future was linked with his now. |
| 4681 |
They had hardly talked since her breakup with Ivan. She had been plunged in her writing night and day. It was as though freeing herself had fueled her, and she had a lot to talk about with her parents. They had always given her good advice in the past, and she needed to decide where to go from here. |
| 4682 |
It was going well. Ivan had called a few times to make weak excuses for his behavior, and told her he was all alone. She stopped taking his calls, and he gave up calling quickly when he realized she wasn't sympathetic to his cause and hadn't changed her mind. He wanted her to feel sorry for him, but she didn't. |
| 4683 |
He described their dress code as preppy, which was what he wore too when they went out. His father and brother would wear suits for Thanksgiving and he would do the same, otherwise a blazer and slacks, and his father always wore a tie and looked like a banker. He said his patients expected it of him. |
| 4684 |
There were flowers in the living room, and a comfortable country style kitchen, where the family often gathered. And then he showed her his boyhood room, filled with sports trophies and mementos of his school years. His diplomas from Yale and Harvard were on the wall as she looked around and smiled at him. |
| 4685 |
And he led her to a guest room across from them, where he and Sasha would be staying. His old room had a narrow single bed, and he would have felt strange staying in that room with her anyway, even with a bigger bed. The guest room was neutral ground, and he had never stayed there with anyone. He set her suitcase down. |
| 4686 |
The style was somewhat English, and the walls were a pale yellow, which made the room look sunny even in Chicago winter weather. They were predicting snow for the weekend. They stopped in the kitchen and made a sandwich, and Alex suggested they go downtown and look around. He wanted to show her the city. |
| 4687 |
They wandered into a bookstore, and an art gallery, and it struck her immediately how friendly people were. Salespeople were pleasant, anxious to help them, and chatted with them. They headed back to the house around five thirty. Sasha started to fidget in the car, and Alex smiled at her and leaned over and kissed her. |
| 4688 |
Her mother dismissed his business acumen as luck, and being in the right place at the right time, which Sasha knew wasn't true, and was a mean thing to say about him, along with all the rest of what she still accused him of, including being a lousy father, which Valentina agreed with, and Sasha didn't. |
| 4689 |
I think if I ever told her I was getting married, she'd kill me. Recidivists, as she calls them, are the mainstay of her business. She's handled two or three divorces for some of her clients. They always come back to her because she does such a good job, and gets them a ton of money from the other side. |
| 4690 |
Her parents were almost the same age, but had a very different life experience. It was hard for Sasha to imagine. Her mother was always telling her about marriages that fell apart in a year. And the high divorce rate nationally supported what she said, that marriage just didn't work, and was an antiquated idea. |
| 4691 |
And in her own way, Valentina did too. She had never gone to college and had started making big money at eighteen as a model, and she still made a fortune at what she did, more than Sasha ever would using her skill and brain. But her job had longevity, and Valentina's didn't. One day she'd be too old to model. |
| 4692 |
She was everything he had described, except younger, prettier, and warmer. She didn't look old enough to have a son his age, let alone Ben's, and she still had a trim figure. She played golf and tennis on the weekends with friends. And Alex said she'd played touch football with them when they were young. |
| 4693 |
They bought them at auction whenever they found them. And there was some very handsome art on the walls, much of it English, of horses and landscapes, and several of boats. The whole family loved sailing. Sasha sat down on a comfortable couch, and a moment later the housekeeper brought them all tea on a silver tray. |
| 4694 |
She seemed to be the perfect wife and mother, and had a major career as an attorney too. It was impressive. Her mother had the law career, but had never cared about their home. She hated to cook, and had sold their family home and bought a small apartment without a guest room six months after the divorce. |
| 4695 |
She fools my roommates all the time, pretending to be me, except one of them can tell us apart. Our parents used to dress us identically but in different colors, and my sister would make us switch clothes. It drove them crazy, and I have to admit, we loved it. No one could ever figure out who was who. |
| 4696 |
Helen thought it made life easier for this generation that they didn't marry as young, although she thought Ben should be thinking about it now. He had been about to get engaged to his girlfriend when they broke up a few months ago. Helen was philosophical about it, and said she obviously hadn't been the right one. |
| 4697 |
And there was no denying, their older son was married to his work. Alex was a little more moderate, and their father loved his practice, but had always made time for his family too. He had set the boys a good example about priorities, and they'd had a warm home life as a result, and still did, and strong family ties. |
| 4698 |
They chatted until dinnertime, and right before dinner, Ben joined them. And he was even more handsome than his younger brother. They were the best looking family she'd ever seen, and Sasha silently wished that her sister would go out with someone like Ben, but she wouldn't have given him the time of day. |
| 4699 |
Her husband talked a lot about his cardiology practice, and she was very knowledgeable and well informed about new developments in experimental surgeries. His father was very interested in Sasha's passion for infertility and innovations they were implementing in Europe, which they discussed at length. |
| 4700 |
It was easy and fun for Sasha to talk to people who shared the same interests she did, and a little while after dinner, Ben left to go back to his apartment, and the elder Scotts and she and Alex retired to their respective rooms. She flopped onto the comfortable bed and smiled at Alex, and he beamed at her. |
| 4701 |
Alex showed her the cabins belowdecks if she got too cold, and told her not to be a hero if she was freezing, but she loved being on deck, as they pulled away from the dock in the crisp cold air. There was just enough wind to fill their sails, and they spent the next two hours sailing around the lake. |
| 4702 |
Alex looked at her as though he'd found the prize of a lifetime, and Sasha was ecstatic, and he was sorry when they returned to the yacht club after a great sail. "Your mother will kill me if we don't go back now," Tom said regretfully. Their faces were all red, and they looked healthy and glowing from the cold. |
| 4703 |
The dining room looked beautiful after Helen had set the table and decorated it with flowers and their Thanksgiving decorations. Their friends were interesting and good company, the meal was splendid, the conversation was lively, and they sat around and talked for hours until the guests left and Ben finally went home. |
| 4704 |
They all said they were too full to ever eat again, but Alex knew that they would be eating the leftovers enthusiastically the next day and all through the weekend. He and Sasha were having dinner at a restaurant with Ben the following night, and then taking her on a tour of their favorite bars and hangouts. |
| 4705 |
Her mother had had it redone the year before with strikingly modern furniture and contemporary art. It wasn't cozy, but it was beautiful. Abby wandered around the house, after she put her small tote bag in her room, and went to sit in the garden, thinking about what she would do now, and what she wanted to say to them. |
| 4706 |
She hadn't realized it for the past three years, but he had been holding her back, as she tried to meet his esoteric new wave standards, which no longer felt right for her, and never really had. She was developing her own voice again, and she felt that her writing was getting stronger than ever before. |
| 4707 |
She hadn't been home in almost a year, since Christmas, and she was startled to see that her parents had aged a little. She always thought of them as young and vital forever. Her father was complaining about a bad knee he had injured playing tennis, and her mother was healthy, but seemed subtly older. |
| 4708 |
The guy started out normal when we got married, and became a religious fanatic, and founded a cult in Argentina, which was when I left him. We all do stupid things sometimes and get involved with the wrong people. It's good to keep an open mind, but also to know when to cut your losses and close the gate. |
| 4709 |
She got pulled away by her mother then, to talk to someone else, an old friend of theirs she hadn't seen since high school, who looked a hundred years old now, and was nearly unrecognizable after a face lift. She was grateful her mother hadn't had any work done and still looked like herself, even if slightly older. |
| 4710 |
And she used her least expensive upholsterers to re cover the furniture so her husband wouldn't complain about the expense. Her father looked depressed, and was grousing about the real estate market. He hadn't sold a house in eighteen months, which Claire thought was due to his personality, not the economy. |
| 4711 |
When she didn't, she called him from her room on her cell, and the call went straight to voicemail. With the time difference between San Francisco and Aspen, she figured he was already asleep, so she left him a loving message. He didn't call the next day on Thanksgiving, probably for the same reason. |
| 4712 |
They hadn't spoken since he dropped her off late Tuesday night, which was very unusual for him. He liked to keep track of her all day, with calls and texts, and to know what she was doing. After three days of silence, she wondered if he hated holidays so much that he had retreated into his cave in a mild depression. |
| 4713 |
What if he was sick, or had been seriously injured skiing? He might have broken both his arms and couldn't use his cell phone, or had a head injury, since he said he didn't wear a helmet but was an avid skier. But she thought he would have had someone call her if he was hurt, or texted her himself if he was sick. |
| 4714 |
His secretary answered on the private line and said that he was in a meeting. Claire said to just tell him she had called. And now she was sure he would call her. She could hardly think straight until lunchtime, and she snapped at Monique when she set foot in Claire's office. She was in no mood for her today. |
| 4715 |
And why? He was stonewalling her, and she had done nothing to deserve it. She was so panicked and in so much pain from worrying about it, she was breathless. She left work half an hour early and told Walter she was coming down with the flu and had a fever. It was easily believable, she looked awful. |
| 4716 |
Claire had taken two days off from work, still claiming to have the flu. Everyone in the apartment knew by then, and they were tiptoeing around as though someone had died. Claire emerged from her room as seldom as possible, not wanting to see anyone, and Morgan asked Max what he thought about it that night. |
| 4717 |
It made no sense and sounded crazy to all of them. If he had changed his mind, it would be awful, but all he had to do was tell her. It was obvious to everyone by then, and most of all to Claire, he had scared himself to death, panicked, and run. But he had been the one to set the pace and move so quickly. |
| 4718 |
But Claire was going straight from work to bed every day, and sleeping all the time. And two days later Walter called her into his office. It was ten days before Christmas, and she thought he was going to hand her her end of the year bonus. She had worked hard, and their numbers had improved slightly. |
| 4719 |
He was giving her as little as he could get away with. She couldn't believe it. She was in shock. She walked into her office, put her sketches and personal belongings in a cardboard box, and walked out carrying it, and once in the street, she hailed a cab. It was snowing, and she was soaking wet when she got in. |
| 4720 |
At least it was nothing she had done. He had set the pace, he had wanted her so desperately and convinced her to go out with him, said he loved her and wanted to have babies with her, and now he had dumped her. The irony and the cruelty of it was almost unbearable, and she knew that she would never trust any man again. |
| 4721 |
Morgan was furious at George. Although she had respected him before, she no longer did. It was impossible to respect a man who could be so cruel to her friend. Claire was reeling from having her heart broken into a million pieces. She could barely face the thought of Christmas and wished she wasn't going home. |
| 4722 |
She dreaded spending the holidays with them. They had no idea that George had dumped her and she'd lost her job. She was going to tell her mother while she was there, after Christmas, and ask her to tell her father after she left. She couldn't face dealing with his concern, and depressing view of life. |
| 4723 |
And twenty minutes after that, Claire was sound asleep. She helped her mother bake cookies the next day, and watched her prepare the turkey and stuffing and put it in the oven. Claire set the table for her, and Sarah had decorated a beautiful Christmas table for the three of them, as she always did. |
| 4724 |
In the morning, Claire and her mother exchanged gifts sitting next to the tree. Sarah loved the Chanel bag and was touched by what it must have cost her, especially now. And Claire gave her father his sweater when he got up. He actually liked it and thanked her for it, and everyone was in a good mood. |
| 4725 |
Claire went into her room then, and sent e mails to her roommates, wishing them a merry Christmas, and as she turned the computer off, her mother walked into the room, and quietly shut the door behind her, and then sat down on her daughter's bed. She looked as though she had something important to say. |
| 4726 |
I'd like to invest that money in a small shoe company. I know how to run an interior design business, and shoes can't be that different. We could start very small, on a tight budget. And you could design the shoes you want to. If we're successful, you can pay me back one day. But I don't expect that. |
| 4727 |
They had a lot of work to do, and they'd have to go to Italy to meet with the factory, make production arrangements, and sign a contract. It was too good to be true, but it was happening. Two weeks before, she had lost everything, and now a whole new life was beginning. A miracle had happened, all thanks to her mother. |
| 4728 |
They were all happy for her, and the three women said they liked her mother and thought it would be fine. She was a quiet woman, and if Claire didn't mind sharing her bedroom with her, it would work. They all had a good time at dinner that night, and went back to the apartment. And the next day Sasha called her mother. |
| 4729 |
She called her father after that, and her father said he was thrilled for her, congratulated her immediately, and said he couldn't wait to meet Alex. He said all the right things, and then put his wife on the phone to congratulate her too, which was a lot better than the conversation with her mother. |
| 4730 |
And suddenly Abby knew she had to leave before she made a terrible mistake and went home with a dog. She had just gone to see them for the fun of it, to cheer herself up, and now they were tugging at her heart. The enormous black dog was still barking, standing up in his cage, and he was as tall as a man. |
| 4731 |
And as she did, Charlie broke free from the attendant and ran after her, and then lay whining at her feet. Abby was nearly crying as she patted him, and told him he had to go back. And then he put his hands on his head, while he lay there, as though it were the worst news he'd ever heard, and he didn't want to hear it. |
| 4732 |
Abby sat down on the steps next to him, and gently stroked his coat as he gazed up at her imploringly, begging her to take him. She felt a wave of insanity come over her then, stood up, faced the attendant, and said, "I'll take him." The attendant beamed and Charlie barked, and then the attendant asked her a question. |
| 4733 |
He had won. Abby took him for a walk on the way back to the apartment, as the dog loped along. He really did look like a small horse, and people gave them a wide berth, not sure if the enormous dog was friendly. But he didn't react to anything on the way home, strollers, kids, bicycles, roller bladers, other dogs. |
| 4734 |
He just trotted next to Abby, and once when a small dog barked at him, he panicked, and she remembered that the attendant had said he was a coward. He ran up the stairs, and Abby was relieved when she saw that no one was home. Charlie sniffed around the apartment, and then lay down at her feet, as she grinned at him. |
| 4735 |
Everything was fine until Morgan came home from the restaurant during a break to change her shoes. Her legs were killing her after standing up all through the lunch rush in heels, and she wanted to put on flats. She saw Abby working, and then she saw the enormous beast and let out a horrendous scream. |
| 4736 |
The bullet went right through his heart, angled downward, through his back, came out his chest, and lodged in her upper thigh, where it is now. That's all we know for the moment. We'll need to talk to your sister to see what she knows, after they get the bullet out. She's in no condition to talk to us now. |
| 4737 |
We've seen her with him for months. She may be able to identify some faces for us. But these big guys don't usually share information with their women. She's not in trouble with us, for the moment, but she will be with them, whoever killed him. She may have seen the shooter. If she did, she's in serious danger. |
| 4738 |
Sasha went back to see Valentina again, she was woozy from the pre op sedation, but Sasha kissed her and told her she'd be fine, and then they rolled her away. Sasha didn't go into the operating room with her, and a few minutes later Alex joined her. He had found someone to cover for him for a little while. |
| 4739 |
Sasha nodded, but in the meantime, this was going to change Valentina's life dramatically, if she had to go into hiding, possibly for a long time. And Sasha was not going with her. She didn't tell Alex about the risk to her, and what the lieutenant had told her, and then he went back to work upstairs. |
| 4740 |
Valentina was in a private room on the surgical floor two hours later, with two policemen outside her door, and a nurse with her in the room to make sure that she didn't bleed again. Sasha spent a few minutes with her, but Valentina was sleepy from the anesthetic and pain medication, and she wasn't making sense. |
| 4741 |
Her sister had put her in a hell of a position. And when she left at six o'clock with Alex, the two cops followed them home, ready to stand at the door of the apartment. She invited them in to have coffee at the kitchen table. The Great Dane looked up with interest, lifted his giant head, and went back to sleep. |
| 4742 |
They were looking her over carefully, her bone structure, her hair, her eyes. It took them an hour to decide what they needed to do. And they made their recommendation to the lieutenant while Sasha listened with a sinking heart. It didn't sound good to her. Her long blond hair had to be cut short and dyed brown. |
| 4743 |
They wanted her to be nondescript instead of striking like her sister, but Sasha was still a pretty woman. And they were debating brown contact lenses instead of blue. Sasha cried when they cut her hair, and dyed it brown. They cut it short in a boyish cut, which actually suited her, but Alex looked upset. |
| 4744 |
And Valentina would be removed from the hospital before noon, to an undisclosed location, until they found the man who had shot Jean Pierre. The three women and Alex were sitting at the kitchen table discussing it, and the two policemen had retreated to a discreet corner of the room and were playing with the dog. |
| 4745 |
It was the worst story she'd ever heard. And on a lighter note, she couldn't believe the size of the dog Abby had brought home, but she admitted that he seemed sweet. And he held out a paw to her too, and then licked her hand with a tongue the size of a ham. She sat down on the couch after a while and laughed. |
| 4746 |
And it was time to grow up. What she'd done with Ivan had been amateur hour. She couldn't do that anymore. She had to take this project and see if she could make it in the real world. And an indie film based on a book she loved was a gentle way to start a serious career. She couldn't ask for anything better. |
| 4747 |
She promised herself before she fell asleep that if she still felt the same way in the morning, she'd call him. Charlie nudged her at nine o'clock. He wanted to go out, and he didn't care how hung over she was. She walked him around the block and came back, and then she picked up her cell phone and called. |
| 4748 |
He was staying with a writer who drank a lot. And he sensed that what he was about to hear was important. He had known it the minute the phone rang, just as he had known it when he read the material she sent him. Something huge was about to happen, to both of them. "I'll do it," she said in a small voice. |
| 4749 |
He was glad he had come to dinner and met her friends. He liked them all, they were good people. The two plainclothes policemen assigned to Sasha had joined them for dinner too. It had been the usual noisy, friendly family dinner, although everyone was quiet after Josh left, at the thought of Abby leaving. |
| 4750 |
They used the conference room to interrogate the employees, while Morgan waited in her office. They had told them that no one could leave. Their cell phones had been taken from them, and they said they would be returned later, and people were standing around in clusters whispering all over the office. |
| 4751 |
But she still couldn't imagine George doing what they were accusing him of. It had to be some kind of mistake. She was allowed to leave the office at six o'clock, and was told not to return. The entire staff was under investigation, and had been dismissed. The office was closed, and their accounts had been seized. |
| 4752 |
But it was all over the Internet and TV that night. George Lewis was under investigation, and more than likely would be indicted by the grand jury for stealing millions from his investors. Bail had been posted at ten million dollars in a federal arraignment, and he was expected to get out of jail that day. |
| 4753 |
And he told them about her asking him what he thought of the irregularities she'd found, and he had told her that he thought they were accounting errors, and she had agreed. But neither of them had suspected something like this, the theft of millions from his investors. And he had done it cleverly and well. |
| 4754 |
She was grateful for the distraction, and he offered to pay her a salary for doing it, which she wouldn't accept. But she went to work with him every day. It was a terrible time for her, and she clung to him like a rock in a storm. Claire's mother arrived in the midst of the mess, and was shocked at what she read. |
| 4755 |
They had interviewed her several more times, and nothing was conclusive yet. And she couldn't look for another job until she was cleared, and absolved of any guilt. Claire was sure they would find her innocent of any knowledge of what he'd done, but in the meantime, Morgan's life was in limbo, her future uncertain. |
| 4756 |
She was stronger than Claire had ever dreamed, and it proved to her that you could pick up the pieces and start again at any age. It had been weeks since the breakup with George, and Claire was still reverberating from it, but it had turned out to be a blessing, given everything that was happening to him. |
| 4757 |
After they met with the factory, they could establish their price point. Claire wanted to try and keep their prices down, while offering a high fashion look, and it was going to be a challenge. But she finally had a sense of freedom to do the kind of designs she wanted to do, after being stymied by Walter for years. |
| 4758 |
And the week before they left, Morgan was informed there was no evidence that she'd been involved in George's crimes, and she was free of any suspicion. It was an enormous relief. But they asked her to remain available for future meetings if they needed more information for the federal prosecutor's case against George. |
| 4759 |
All they talked about at the apartment now was George's indictment, and Morgan being cleared. She had decided to keep helping Max with his books at the restaurant, and Max said she was a genius at it. From looking at the spreadsheets, she had spotted that the bartender was skimming money off the top. |
| 4760 |
The few they had heard about and checked out cost a fortune, and Prunella was only slightly cheaper. She asked them to describe their dream wedding, and they both agreed that small would be better, and said they wanted about a hundred guests. "Are you sure?" she asked with a disapproving expression, and they nodded. |
| 4761 |
I'm not sure how she'd feel about a wedding. She owns the top two floors, so you wouldn't have to worry about the neighbors complaining. She let us go pretty late for our event. It wasn't cheap, but it wasn't ridiculous either. If you want, I'll call her, and it's not like a hotel where it's booked years in advance. |
| 4762 |
But this was so much easier than planning a wedding. She knew what to do here. Weddings were a mystery to her, and she had no mother to advise her. Muriel wouldn't even discuss it with her. She walked into the first labor room two minutes later, and was just in time to tell the mother to push after she checked her. |
| 4763 |
They had to bring in one of the attendings for her, Sasha couldn't be everywhere at once. The paramedics signed her over and wished her luck. It was one of those insane days when they delivered babies nonstop all day. She was there till midnight, and Alex was at the apartment when she got home at almost one. |
| 4764 |
There was so much to do to get their fledgling business off the ground, and her roommates had been patient about deliveries of color swatches, leather and fabric samples, and all the tools and materials they would need to show customers eventually. And they found a lawyer who helped them set up the company. |
| 4765 |
Parabiago was in what was known as the shoe district of Italy, where the finest factories were. They were staying in Milan, less than an hour away, and had located a small hotel near the Via Montenapoleone, where the best shopping was, and where they planned to go after they finished their meetings. |
| 4766 |
Claire was aching to shop while they were there, but was trying to save her money for their business. Her mother had been generous, but Claire wanted to make a contribution too. They agreed to one day of shopping in the city before they left. Sarah loved the designs Claire showed her on her computer. |
| 4767 |
There was a vast range of quality and possible price points, and they would have a lot to decide on their limited budget. But thanks to her mother, they had a fair amount of leeway to work with, far more than Claire had had when she was designing for Walter Adams, and she was finally getting to design shoes she loved. |
| 4768 |
They had dinner at a small trattoria, and Claire noticed that the local men were admiring both her and her mother, and assumed they were two friends. Age didn't matter in Italy, her mother was still a beautiful woman, and men looked at her as often as they did at Claire, and Sarah seemed to be enjoying the attention. |
| 4769 |
The first factory they went to was the one she had been to several times with Walter, and they remembered her. She knew it was one of the most reliable and respected factories in Italy, they did solid work, and they did the manufacturing for several important brands in the States, and all over Europe. |
| 4770 |
They produced shoes for almost every popular high end brand, and several secondary lines at their price point. The factory was owned by Biagio Machiolini and his two sons, and like the others had been a family business for generations, and they were cousins of the owners of the second factory they'd seen. |
| 4771 |
Claire was familiar with the contracts, as she had handled them for Walter and knew what to expect. And when she read it over carefully in their hotel room, there were no surprises, it was exactly as they had said. All three factories had excellent reputations, and she knew they would be in good hands with any of them. |
| 4772 |
It was only six weeks away, but the Machiolinis had a large, efficient operation and assured them they could meet the deadline with ease, and they could make adjustments to the fit later. Claire realized she was going to need a fit model in a European size 37, which was size six and a half to seven in the States. |
| 4773 |
In a few months, Claire wanted to hire an assistant, possibly before the Las Vegas trade show, but they didn't need one yet. The two women were more than willing to do all the work, and even some of the heavy lifting, literally, when their samples came in. Both of them were hard workers with a lot of energy. |
| 4774 |
They hadn't spoken to each other, or seen each other, in two months by then, for the first time in their life. Even when they traveled, or Sasha had been in medical school, they had never let more than a few days go by without talking. The silence between them had been brutal, and painful for both of them. |
| 4775 |
Sasha thanked and hugged them both, and they left. The nightmare was over, as swiftly as it had begun. And she sent both her parents a text to tell them. After that, it was up to Valentina to contact them, to apologize for what she'd put them all through, but she probably wouldn't, if she knew her sister. |
| 4776 |
She couldn't do that to herself, or Alex now. She had seen what a toll it took on him. He had said nothing to his parents, so as not to worry them, but that was hard on him too, since they were very close, and they would have been terrified for him and Sasha, and wondered what he'd gotten himself into. |
| 4777 |
If Valentina wanted a decent life, she'd have to find someone like him, which Sasha knew she'd find boring. Valentina had developed dangerous tastes and habits and connections with her modeling career. Not everyone used it that way, but Valentina did. It was a high price to pay for expensive thrills. |
| 4778 |
They were both sobered by the experience, and relieved that the drama was over. When Valentina called her in the morning, tears sprang to Sasha's eyes when she heard her. In spite of the trouble she had caused, for everyone, and for Sasha specifically, they were still twins, with an unseverable bond between them. |
| 4779 |
He looked about six or seven years younger than her sister. And it was suddenly obvious what he was doing there. She had brought him home as the spoils of war. As Sasha looked at him, she remembered the lieutenant's cryptic comment about her sister, that she was a handful. Now she could see why he'd said it. |
| 4780 |
She was involved with one of the cops. Sasha was sure they'd appreciated it at the monastery. Valentina was incurable. There was always a guy, preferably with a gun. But at least this one was on the right side of the law. Sasha wondered what she would do with him now that she was back in her own world. |
| 4781 |
She was sure her twin was going to break his heart, and possibly destroy his career, and she wouldn't care a whit about it. She did whatever suited her, in the moment, with total disregard for the damage she caused. Sasha loved her sister, but she knew how selfish she was. She was a narcissist through and through. |
| 4782 |
Valentina kissed her and then left with Bert to go to her apartment, in Tribeca. Jean Pierre had been murdered at his place, not hers, so her apartment was pristine. Bert had brought some things over that afternoon, and she had invited him to move in. The detail was over, but their life together was just beginning. |
| 4783 |
Morgan said it was the worst thing that had ever happened to her, and Sasha felt sorry for her. Morgan was devastated, and Max figured out for himself that Morgan was pregnant when she threw up three mornings in a row. He asked her, and her face told him the whole story. She didn't want to lie to him and deny it. |
| 4784 |
But it didn't change her mind. She hadn't wanted it to happen this way. She hadn't wanted him to know, because she knew it would end like this, probably forever. She knew it was true when he said that he would never forgive her. It was against everything he believed in, and he wanted their child, he always had. |
| 4785 |
There was no other acceptable option, to him. They stopped seeing each other entirely, and Morgan was still sure she wanted an abortion, but hadn't scheduled it yet because she knew that when she did, Max would never see her again. He said it and he meant it, and she believed him. She loved him, but not his baby. |
| 4786 |
She couldn't have it and send it back. He even asked her to have the baby and let him raise it, and she wouldn't. That sounded twisted to her. She wasn't going to give birth to a child and give it up. It made more sense to put an end to it before it happened and ruined their lives, but it already had. |
| 4787 |
Max was beside himself over it, and he missed her. But he refused to back down. He had said clearly that if she aborted, they were through. By now, Morgan was very emotional and cried all the time. She had a few days left to decide, and Sasha went to the doctor with her to support her while she made the final decision. |
| 4788 |
She started to cry even more after she saw it, and talked to the doctor about an abortion. She said she would call to set it up the next day, and the doctor didn't push her either way. She said she could fit her in the following afternoon for a termination if that was her decision. All she did was cry on the way home. |
| 4789 |
She was convinced a baby would destroy her life. She remembered her hideous life as a child, her drunken mother and irresponsible father who cheated on her. The miserable life they had led until they died young, and they had had no pleasure from their children, and had had nothing to give her or her brother. |
| 4790 |
Morgan was so desperate, torn between the two options, that Sasha was afraid she'd become suicidal. She was terrified whichever way she turned. Sasha tried to convey that to Max when she stopped by the restaurant to have coffee with him earlier that week, and he didn't want to hear it. For him, it was simple. |
| 4791 |
They had dinner that night at a restaurant her mother liked. Her mother examined Alex like a piece of property she was buying, and asked him a thousand questions about his parents, and particularly his mother's law practice. She had checked her out on the Internet and was impressed, but didn't admit it. |
| 4792 |
Sasha tried to get them out of the restaurant as quickly as possible, and she suggested brunch on Sunday before their flight. Her mother said she was playing golf with two women friends who were judges, and couldn't make it. "I assume you're seeing your father and his airhead wife tomorrow," she said coldly. |
| 4793 |
She never forgave him for starting a new life and being happy with another woman. And it's worse because Charlotte is so much younger, and beautiful. And she's furious they had more kids. Now she hates everyone. I don't know how her clients stand her. You have to really hate the man you're divorcing to hire her. |
| 4794 |
Atlanta seemed like a nice city, but they hadn't had time to explore it, and all Sasha wanted, whenever she went back to Atlanta now, was to leave town again as soon as she could. She never even called her old friends. Her mother had ruined it for her. They met her father at his country club for lunch the next day. |
| 4795 |
He wasn't an intellectual or an academic, but he was an intelligent businessman who had done extremely well. He wasn't as sharp or astute as Sasha's mother, but he was a kind, warm person, and Alex liked him. And after lunch they followed him to Buckhead, the very expensive residential part of Atlanta where they lived. |
| 4796 |
They had an enormous house that was more like an estate, with a tennis court and an Olympic size pool, and beautiful old trees lining the driveway. It was very Southern, and there was a lovely young woman barefoot on the lawn, smiling and waving at them as they drove up, and two beautiful little girls. |
| 4797 |
As soon as Alex and Sasha got out of their rented car, Sasha saw a problem on the horizon, a big one. Charlotte was pregnant again, which her father hadn't mentioned, and Muriel was going to split a gut at the wedding when she found out. It would be further proof of his happy marriage to someone else. |
| 4798 |
Her days consisted of shopping, manicures, a little charity work, and lunch with her friends. Her father asked Alex about his residency, and they talked until dinnertime, and then had an early dinner in the gazebo on the lawn. They left by eight o'clock, and all Sasha wanted was to go back to New York. |
| 4799 |
They were in agreement about her mother and had said it all the night before. Her father and Charlotte were like something in a Southern movie and never seemed real to her. No one was ever tired or dirty or messy or swore, or talked about problems, or things she cared about. It all stayed very superficial. |
| 4800 |
She was going to have it. But she was leaving Max. The fact that he'd been willing to leave her if she didn't have his baby told her what she needed to know. She didn't want to be wanted for their child. And if he wasn't willing to stick by her, whatever decision she made, he didn't really love her. |
| 4801 |
But he couldn't have her. He had blown it. She had written him a letter and dropped it in the mail. She wasn't going back to the restaurant, and didn't want to see him. It was over, and she'd let him know when the baby was born in October, since that was all he cared about. She went for a long walk then, alone. |
| 4802 |
Morgan stuck to her decision about Max, and the baby. He groaned when he got the letter at the restaurant, and tried to call her, but she wouldn't take his calls. She had the rest of his clothes dropped off at the restaurant. They hadn't spoken in four weeks since his ultimatum, and now the tables had turned. |
| 4803 |
The only one she told was her brother, and Oliver and Greg were thrilled and promised not to tell the others. Morgan was in no mood to celebrate it. She was in mourning for her life, Max, and her career. She had called a headhunter for a short term job for four or five months, but nothing had turned up yet. |
| 4804 |
Max spoke to Oliver too, who said his sister was the most stubborn woman he had ever met. Oliver said she was deeply upset and emphatic that she didn't want to speak to Max. All he could do now was wait till the baby was born, and see if she softened then, but that was more than five months away, an eternity to him. |
| 4805 |
He couldn't even concentrate on his work, was short tempered with his staff, and whenever he cooked, he burned the food. He was obsessed with Morgan and the baby. He still had the key to the apartment, but he didn't dare use it to see her. She'd probably call the police if he did, and have him arrested. |
| 4806 |
With Sasha and Morgan's permission, she had turned Abby's bedroom into a storeroom, and she and her mother slept in her room. And there were more boxes in the living room. She hired a fit model for an afternoon, and checked the fit. The model said they felt great, and the high heels were at a good pitch. |
| 4807 |
And on the second day, Claire got the ultimate satisfaction. She spotted Walter from across the room, and he sauntered over to them, trying to be nonchalant, while ogling the shoes on the table. Claire almost laughed and pointed him out to Claudia and her mother. And then he headed straight for her. |
| 4808 |
And she was embarrassed to have Claire's mother know. They all knew that she and Max had broken up, but she refused to discuss the details, or say why. She and Max hadn't spoken in two months. He finally couldn't stand it, and sat on the front steps of her building one morning, waiting for her to come out. |
| 4809 |
She would do her duty, but no one could force her to want it. He had tried, and it blew up in their faces. But she had made the decision on her own to keep it. She couldn't blame him for that, and she knew it. "Thanks for coming by," she said, and tried to walk past him down the steps, and he wouldn't let her. |
| 4810 |
They walked down the stairs together to the street, and she stopped twice for cramps again and could feel dampness between her legs. He hailed a cab and helped her in, and he held her hand on the way to the hospital. Morgan called Sasha from the cab. She was on duty and told her where to go and said she'd meet her. |
| 4811 |
They were very simple and elegant. They had chosen the menu, with a tasting at the apartment, and tried five different wedding cakes from three wedding bakers. And Max was giving them the wine as a wedding gift, and the champagne. Prunella had recommended a photographer and videographer, which she insisted they needed. |
| 4812 |
They had toured the penthouse on Fifth Avenue, where they were giving the reception, and they had found a small church near the penthouse that was willing to do a six o'clock wedding. The reception was due to start at eight. And Sasha had managed to decide on all of it, in her meager time off from work. |
| 4813 |
Amazingly, everything was on track, and Prunella had turned out to be as organized and efficient as Oliver had been told. Sasha couldn't stand her, but had to admit she was doing a great job. In spite of that, Sasha was nervous about all the details coming together on the big day. There was so much that could go wrong. |
| 4814 |
It was a lot to think about, but she could see that her mother thought it was the right thing to do. And her eyes lit up when she talked about doing things with Jim. And Claire knew she couldn't hang on to her mother forever. The past five months had been a wonderful reprieve from the blows that had come before that. |
| 4815 |
The girls were all laughing and talking at the nail salon when her father called her. They had arrived from Atlanta that morning, with the children and their nanny. Muriel was due in that afternoon, and the Scotts had arrived the night before. Alex and Sasha had stopped by the hotel to give them a hug. |
| 4816 |
She had been wonderful about it. She went to get it and came back a few minutes later, and Charlotte didn't even feel it. Sasha had a nurse hook up a fetal monitor, and everything was looking good. She noticed that the baby was big, but they said it wasn't twins and it didn't feel like it, just a big baby. |
| 4817 |
She still had plenty of time to dress. And then she went back to check her stepmother again. The contractions were persistent, but slowing down a little. She waited two hours and gave her another shot, and sedated her, which she thought would help. By then it was seven, and she was going to be late for the dinner. |
| 4818 |
She was tempted to say to the liveried doorman as she ran by, "Did someone call a doctor?" but she decided to behave, and walked into the beautiful room filled with flowers at the dinner organized by her soon to be in laws, in scrubs and sandals. It was either that, or arrive at ten, when they finished dinner. |
| 4819 |
The speeches went smoothly, and were very touching, particularly by her roommates, and Alex's father. Her father was going to speak at the wedding, and Ben, the best man. She and Alex parted company after the evening, so she wouldn't see him until the wedding. She was spending the night at the loft with the girls. |
| 4820 |
They referred to him as supermodel Valentina's drop dead gorgeous bodyguard. They were a striking pair. And then the big moment came, and Sasha's friends lifted her wedding dress over her head, with Sarah's help. Abby stood on a chair to assist, and they were careful not to mess up her hair or makeup. |
| 4821 |
It seemed sad to her for a moment that she had Claire's mother there to help dress her, and not her own, but she didn't want Muriel to spoil it, and she would have. Sasha didn't want to take the chance. Her father was meeting her at the church, and she rode uptown alone in the limousine he had rented for her. |
| 4822 |
And the girls rode in a second one, right behind her. She could feel them near her, cheering her on. And Prunella was waiting for them at the church in the rectory where they gathered, while Alex's groomsmen ushered people to their seats in the church, which the florist had filled with white flowers. |
| 4823 |
There was a brief pause after the girls took their places at the altar with Alex's groomsmen, all friends from medical school, with his brother at his side as best man. And then Sasha and her father came down the aisle in stately elegance, and she could see Alex catch his breath as she walked toward him. |
| 4824 |
She stood on a little stool so she could throw the bouquet at them, and her toss was stronger and higher than expected as it sailed over the women's heads, past Claire, where she had aimed it. And without even meaning to, Greg instinctively reached out and caught it, as Oliver looked at him in amazement. |
| 4825 |
There were two gardeners pulling weeds around the main fountain as Abe got out of his car, and two others working in a flower bed nearby, as Abe made a mental note to cut the gardening staff in half, at the very least. All he could see as he looked around him were numbers, and dollar bills flying out windows. |
| 4826 |
But no matter how irresistible he still was on screen, there were fewer and fewer parts for him to play. In fact, as Abe rang the front door bell and waited for someone to answer, Coop hadn't had any part at all in just over two years. But he claimed he met with directors and producers about their new movies every day. |
| 4827 |
He was going to a black tie party, and wanted to be sure to get a haircut, a massage, and a nap before he went out. And she hadn't seen him that morning. He was out at a breakfast at the Beverly Hills Hotel when she arrived, with a producer who had called him about a movie with a possible part in it for him. |
| 4828 |
She had given her life's blood to the impeccable running of Cooper Winslow's life, working fourteen hours a day, sometimes seven days a week, if he needed her, and in the process, she had forgotten to get married or have kids. It was a sacrifice she had willingly made for him. She still thought he was worth it. |
| 4829 |
And at times she was worried sick about him, particularly in recent years. Reality was not important to Cooper Winslow. He considered it a minor inconvenience, like a mosquito buzzing around his head, and he avoided it all costs. Successfully, from his perspective at least, most of the time. Nearly always in fact. |
| 4830 |
He had a single expression he used in every situation, none. It seemed to suit his part. Although rumor had it that once or twice, when Cooper teased him mercilessly about something, he had actually smiled. But no one had actually seen him do it, so it was more legend than fact. But Coop swore he did. |
| 4831 |
Almost every part he played was in black tie. And he was as charming on the set as he was in real life. So much so that even now, the perks in his contracts were legendary. He somehow always got to keep his costumes, and negotiated his wardrobe, custom made at all his favorite tailors in Paris, London, and Milan. |
| 4832 |
Coop viewed the cars and wardrobe not as luxuries, but as the necessities of life. Those were the basics, the rest was cream. A houseman appeared from the kitchen with two glasses of iced tea on a silver tray. Livermore had disappeared. The young man hadn't even left the room when Abe looked over at Liz with a frown. |
| 4833 |
He couldn't help wondering how Liz had stood him for all those years. He had always suspected they'd had an affair, and would have been surprised to learn that wasn't the case. Coop was smarter than that, and so was Liz. She had adored him for years, and never gone to bed with him. Nor had he asked. |
| 4834 |
He was a breathtakingly handsome man, with chiseled features and a cleft chin. He had deep blue eyes, smooth, fair skin, and a full head of immaculately trimmed and combed silver hair. Even with the top down, he didn't have a hair out of place. He never did. Cooper Winslow was the epitome of perfection in every detail. |
| 4835 |
The women he dated adored him, even long after they left him. He somehow nearly always managed to engineer it so that they left him, when he had had enough of them. He was a genius at handling women, and most of the women he had affairs with, those he remembered at least, spoke well of him. They had fun with him. |
| 4836 |
He was six feet four, also rare in Hollywood, where most of the movie idols had always been short. But not Coop, and as he waved at the gardeners, he flashed not only a smile which showed off perfect teeth, but a woman would have noticed that he had beautiful hands. Cooper Winslow appeared to be the perfect man. |
| 4837 |
He was a magnet to men and women alike. Only a few people who knew him, like Abe Braunstein, were impervious to his charm. But for everyone else, there was an irresistible magnetism, a kind of aura about him that made people turn and look, and smile with awe. If nothing else, he was a spectacular looking man. |
| 4838 |
Livermore had been with him for four years, and Coop was immensely pleased with him. He liked his dignity, his stiffness, his efficiency, and his style. It lent his home precisely the kind of image he wanted to achieve. And Livermore took care of his wardrobe impeccably, which was important to Coop. |
| 4839 |
He knew that within seconds, Livermore would bring him a glass of champagne, and he was right. It was the vintage Cristal he always drank, chilled to the perfect temperature. He had dozens of cases of it in his cellar, along with other fabulous French wines. His cellar was legendary, as was his taste. |
| 4840 |
And then maybe you can start to dig yourself out of the hole you're in. I'd like to see you sell the house or at the very least rent the gatehouse, and maybe even part of this house, which would bring some money in. Liz tells me you never use the guest wing in the main house. You could rent that out. |
| 4841 |
He just shut it out. He wanted life to be pleasant and fun and easy and beautiful at all times. And for him it was. He just couldn't pay for it, but that never stopped him from living the way he wanted to. He never hesitated to buy a new car, or order half a dozen suits, or buy a woman a beautiful piece of jewelry. |
| 4842 |
You've got to cut back until it does. Stop spending money like water, reduce the staff down to next to nothing, rent out the gatehouse and part of this house, and we'll take another look at things in the next few months. But I'm telling you, if you don't, you'll be selling this house before the end of the year. |
| 4843 |
She couldn't just do it without warning him. But she thought renting out the two guest facilities was actually not a bad idea. Coop wouldn't miss the space, and they could get a very high price for the rent. She thought it was one of Abe's better ideas. And it would be a lot easier on Coop than selling the place. |
| 4844 |
And their decision coincided perfectly with Abe's decision to fire everyone. In a way, she knew she was doing Coop a favor. He couldn't afford her either. But she knew it was still going to be hard for both of them to say goodbye to each other. She couldn't imagine leaving him, and it broke her heart to do it. |
| 4845 |
And secretly, he hoped she would. Coop felt as though he were losing his younger sister and best friend. Liz started crying again as she drove away. She loved Ted, but she couldn't imagine what life would be like without Coop. Over the years, he had become her family, her best friend, her brother, her son, her hero. |
| 4846 |
And as she drove out the main gate, she nearly hit a car driving by. She was totally unnerved. Leaving Coop would be like leaving the convent or the womb. She just hoped she had made the right decision in the end. Coop was still standing in the library when she left, and poured himself another glass of champagne. |
| 4847 |
She was wearing her hair in a long braid down her back, and she was wearing sunglasses, which caught his attention, as she vacuumed noisily on the stairs. "Paloma?" he asked cautiously, as though seeing her for the first time, and wishing he hadn't. She was wearing leopard sneakers, which made him wince. |
| 4848 |
And as he closed the door to his bedroom, Paloma stood staring at him, and then rolled her eyes. It was the first time he had ever spoken to her, but even from the little she knew of him, she'd never liked him. He went out with women young enough to be his children, and seemed entirely self involved. |
| 4849 |
She wasn't looking forward to being alone in the house with him either. She felt as though she'd drawn the short straw when she found out she was the only one not being fired by the accountants. But she wasn't going to argue about it. She had a lot of relatives in San Salvador to support and she needed the money. |
| 4850 |
He had been planning to keep the house, and live in it, but Janet had told him to sell it as soon as she had gotten to New York. He knew then, that no matter what she had said in the weeks prior to that, she was never coming back to him. She had told him that she was leaving him only two weeks before she left. |
| 4851 |
He was staying in a hotel near his office, and he was waking up every morning, wishing he were dead. They had lived in Los Angeles for ten years, and been married for sixteen. Mark was forty two years old, tall, lean, blond, blue eyed, and until five weeks earlier had been convinced he was happily married. |
| 4852 |
The people who had just bought it wanted to close as soon as they could, they were expecting twins in six weeks. And as Mark thought about it as he took a last walk around, he couldn't help thinking that their life was just beginning, and his was over. He still couldn't believe what had happened to him. |
| 4853 |
The realtor left him alone as he wandered through the empty rooms. All he could think of were the good times they'd shared. There had been nothing wrong with their marriage from his perspective, and even Janet admitted that she'd been happy with him. "I don't know what happened," she said tearfully when she told him. |
| 4854 |
He was a great guy, had been wonderfully supportive and sympathetic and kind to her. They had dinner one night, just casually, and it had taken off from there. She had been involved with him for a year, and she said it was tearing her apart. She kept thinking she'd get over it, that it was a passing thing. |
| 4855 |
He suggested therapy and couples counseling, but Janet refused. She didn't say it to him then, but she had made up her mind. She said she wanted to move back to New York, and see where things went. She needed to be out of the marriage, for the time being at least, so she could explore the affair honestly. |
| 4856 |
They had wanted to know if he and Mom were getting divorced, and he had said honestly that he wasn't sure. But he realized now that Janet had known even then. She just didn't want to tell them yet, or him. The kids had cried endlessly, and for no apparent reason, at first Jessica had blamed it all on him. |
| 4857 |
None of it made sense to them. At fifteen and thirteen, it made even less sense to them than it did to Mark. At least he knew why Janet was leaving him, whether he deserved it or not. But to the kids, it was a mystery that defied any explanation. They had never seen their parents argue or disagree, and they rarely had. |
| 4858 |
And now, nothing was comfortable anymore. The emotional anguish he felt was almost a physical pain. He had had a knife in his gut for the past five weeks. He had just started going to a therapist, at the suggestion of his doctor, when Mark called and asked for sleeping pills, because he said he could no longer sleep. |
| 4859 |
He was just standing there, staring into space, lost in his own thoughts. "Yeah, sure," he said, and walked out of the room, with one last glance back. It was like saying goodbye to a lost world, or an old friend. He followed her out of the house and she locked the door. He had given her all his keys. |
| 4860 |
The holiday doldrums were over, and some great listings came on the market in the spring. And with the sale of the house, and the price he'd gotten for it, she knew he had money to spend. Even his half was more than enough to buy himself a handsome new place. And he had a good job. Money wasn't a problem for Mark. |
| 4861 |
He had never been to a therapist before, and he seemed like a nice guy, but Mark wasn't sure it would help. Maybe with the sleep problem, but what could he do about the rest? No matter what they said in the counseling sessions, Janet and the kids were still gone, and without them he had no life. He didn't want a life. |
| 4862 |
He wanted them. And now she belonged to someone else, and maybe the kids would like him better too. It was a devastating thought. He had never felt as hopeless in his life, or as lost. He drove back to the office, and was back at his desk by noon. He dictated a stack of letters, and went over some reports. |
| 4863 |
He had lost ten pounds in the last five weeks, maybe twelve. All he could do now was keep moving, putting one foot after the other, and try not to think. He did his thinking at night, when it all came back to him, and he heard her words again and again, and thought about the kids and how much they had cried. |
| 4864 |
When he saw Abe Braunstein in a meeting about new tax laws late that afternoon, the accountant was stunned. Mark looked like he had a terminal disease. He usually looked healthy and young and athletic, he was always in good spirits, and even though he was forty two, Abe always thought of Mark as a nice kid. |
| 4865 |
It was too humiliating, it made him seem like such a loser, and he worried that people would think he'd been a shit to her. He wanted to explain, and he was torn between wanting to whine, and needing to hide. "Janet left," Mark said cryptically as they left the meeting side by side. It was nearly six o'clock. |
| 4866 |
Mark stayed at the office shuffling papers on his desk until eight o'clock that night, and then finally went back to the hotel. He thought about picking up a sandwich on the way, but he wasn't hungry. Again. He had promised both his doctor and his therapist that he would try to eat. Tomorrow, he promised himself. |
| 4867 |
At thirty three, he had a life and a career he loved, and still managed to get a little time in for sports. He had organized a soccer team and a softball team for the kids he worked with. He placed kids in foster care, and removed them from abusive homes, homes where they were beaten or molested or abused. |
| 4868 |
And grousing about it every inch of the way, they had gone to City Hall and gotten married six years before. Mostly to get their parents off their backs. It didn't make much difference to either of them, they claimed, and then grudgingly they admitted to each other that it was not only okay, it was nice. |
| 4869 |
There wasn't a single thing he didn't like about her, except maybe the fact that she couldn't cook and didn't care. So he cooked for both of them, and was proud of the fact that he was a pretty decent cook. He was packing the kitchen, and his frying pans, when the building manager rang the bell and walked in. |
| 4870 |
The building manager was showing the apartment to a young couple who said they were getting married. They were both wearing jeans and sweatshirts and sandals, and to Jimmy they seemed innocent and young. They were in their early twenties, had just graduated from college and had come from the Midwest. |
| 4871 |
It didn't really matter. Someone would. It was a nice place, the building was clean, and they had a good view. Maggie had insisted on a view, although it had stretched her budget, but there was no point living in Venice if you didn't have a view, she had said with the brogue again. She played with the brogue a lot. |
| 4872 |
They found a brain tumor, they tried to operate but it was too big, and it had spread all over the place. She was dead in two months. I thought it was going to kill him too. I've never seen two people more in love. They never stopped laughing and talking and kidding around. He just gave me notice last week. |
| 4873 |
And late that afternoon, the building manager slipped a note under Jimmy's door to tell him the young couple had taken the apartment. He was off the hook in three weeks. Jimmy sat staring at the note. It was what he had wanted, and what he knew he had to do, but he had nowhere to go. He no longer cared where he lived. |
| 4874 |
It didn't matter to him. He could have slept in a sleeping bag on the street. Maybe that was how people became homeless. Maybe they no longer cared where they lived, or if. He had thought of killing himself when she died, just walking into the ocean without a murmur or a sound. It would have been an enormous relief. |
| 4875 |
She had told him she wanted to stay in California with him, so he buried her there. And after they all went home, he was alone again. Her parents and brothers and sisters had been devastated over their loss. But no one was as distraught as he, no one knew how much he had lost, or what she meant to him. |
| 4876 |
Maggie had become his whole life, and he knew with absolute certainty that he would never love another woman as he had her, or perhaps at all. He couldn't conceive of another woman in his life. What a travesty that would be. And who could possibly be like her? All that fire and passion and genius and joy and courage. |
| 4877 |
She was the bravest human he had ever known. She hadn't even been afraid to die, she just accepted it as her fate. It was he who had cried and begged God to change his mind, he who had been terrified, who couldn't imagine living on without her. Unthinkable, unbearable, intolerable. And now here he was. |
| 4878 |
She had been gone for a month. Weeks. Days. Hours. And all he had to do now was crawl through the rest of his life. He had gone back to work the week after she died, and everyone treated him like broken glass. He was back at work full time with the kids, but there was no joy in his life now, no spirit, no life. |
| 4879 |
He just had to find a way to keep putting one foot in front of the other for the rest of his life, to keep breathing, to keep waking up every morning, with absolutely no reason why. Part of him wanted to stay in the apartment forever, and another part of him couldn't bear waking up there without her one more time. |
| 4880 |
He left his name and number, and went back to packing. But when he got to her half of the closet, he felt as though Mike Tyson had reached out and punched him in the chest. It took his breath away. The sheer reality of it was so powerful it sucked the air out of his lungs and the blood out of his heart. |
| 4881 |
He could smell her perfume, and feel her presence beside him as though she were standing in the room next to him. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" he said out loud as tears sprang to his eyes, and he held on to the door frame. It was as though a supernatural force had almost knocked him down. |
| 4882 |
She wanted to move ahead as soon as possible, before he changed his mind. The income they would generate would make a big difference for him. And she wanted to do everything she could for him before she left. She had agreed to meet the realtor at eleven, and when they both reached The Cottage, Coop was out. |
| 4883 |
This was high, high prestige, and the estate was the only one like it in the country, if not the world. With a handsome movie star in residence, at least some of the time. Maybe if the tenants were lucky, they would catch a glimpse of him on the tennis court or at the pool. She was going to put that in the brochure. |
| 4884 |
But generally speaking, it looked fine. It was a beautiful wing of the house. It had the same high ceilings the rest of the house had, and elegant French windows leading out to the grounds. There was a lovely stone terrace framed with hedges, and antique marble benches and tables Coop had bought in Italy years before. |
| 4885 |
There was a massive old French stove, a ceramic fireplace in the corner of the room, and beautiful antique painted tiles on the walls. All in all it made a perfect apartment for someone, on the grounds of the most beautiful estate in Bel Air, and they had full access to the tennis courts and the pool. |
| 4886 |
Perhaps someone staying in town to make a movie, or spending a year in LA. The fact that it was furnished would make it a real bonus for someone. And beautifully furnished at that. With fresh flowers, and a little dusting, the guest wing would really come to life, and the realtor could see that too. |
| 4887 |
Not that she had such perfect controls on him, but she could at least remind him from time to time not to get in any deeper than he was. As soon as Liz locked the front door to the guest wing, they drove to the north end of the property to where the gatehouse stood secluded in a seemingly secret garden. |
| 4888 |
It was a perfect little English cottage, and you could have imagined yourself anywhere but Bel Air. It was closer to the tennis courts than the main house, but it was farther from the pool, which was almost directly outside the guest wing. So each place had its virtues and conveniences and own style. |
| 4889 |
Livermore had already announced that he was going to Monte Carlo, to work for an Arab prince. He'd been hounded by him for months, and had called that morning to accept the job that had been a standing offer to him. He didn't seem particularly upset to be leaving Coop, and if he was, as usual, he showed no sign of it. |
| 4890 |
He didn't care where, just something small and easy to manage, with a decent kitchen. He wasn't cooking these days, but he realized that at some point he might like to start again. Other than sports, it was one of the few things that relaxed him. He also didn't care whether or not the place was furnished. |
| 4891 |
He and Maggie had the basics, in terms of furniture, but they hadn't loved any of it, and he wouldn't have minded leaving it all in storage. In some ways, he thought it might remind him less of her, and be less painful, if even the furniture was different. In fact, as he thought about it, he realized he preferred it. |
| 4892 |
Everything did. It would have been hard to find something that didn't. And when he didn't make a point about price, the realtor decided to take a chance, and told him about the gatehouse. She didn't mention the price to him, but described it, and after a moment's hesitation, he said he'd like to see it. |
| 4893 |
But in the places where he visited families, there were often rats and he didn't want to get bitten. But in contrast to his clothes, he was clean shaven, intelligent, obviously well educated, and had a recent haircut. He was an interesting conglomeration of conflicting elements, which confused the agent completely. |
| 4894 |
You never knew who you were dealing with. She had been in the business long enough to know that. Sometimes the people who looked the least reputable or the most poverty stricken turned out to be the heirs of enormous fortunes. She had learned that early on in the business, so she was gracious to him. |
| 4895 |
As Jimmy drove home, he thought about the gatehouse. It was a beautiful little place, and it seemed like a peaceful retreat from the world. He would have loved to live there with Maggie, and wondered if that would bother him. It was hard to know what was best anymore. There was nowhere he could hide from his sorrow. |
| 4896 |
He made himself a bowl of soup, and sat staring silently out the window. He lay awake for most of the night, thinking about Maggie, about what she would advise him. He had thought of taking an apartment on the edge of Watts, which would be practical certainly, and the dangers didn't alarm him particularly. |
| 4897 |
The Cottage had a very imposing entrance. Abe knew the code, and let himself in, and they drove along the winding drive through trees, and endless manicured gardens, and Mark laughed out loud when he saw the house. He couldn't even imagine living in a house like that, it looked like a palace to him. |
| 4898 |
He felt sorry for him, and wanted to help him. He'd never seen the guest wing himself, but Liz had told him it was terrific, and she was right. Mark whistled as the realtor let him in. He looked up in amazement at the high ceilings, and out the French windows with pleasure. The gardens were absolutely beautiful. |
| 4899 |
There were more than he needed. But he particularly liked the two bedrooms for the children, and he thought his kids would love the place. It was elegant and glamorous, but still comfortable, and it was all done in beautiful taste. Mark was pondering the rent as he looked around, but he knew he could afford it. |
| 4900 |
But the realtor was relieved, after Liz's warning that Coop wasn't anxious for tenants with children. He was a perfect candidate, a single man, with children who weren't even in the same city, and would hardly ever come to visit. You couldn't ask for better. And he was obviously solvent, if Abe had brought him. |
| 4901 |
And Jessica always seemed to be looking for someone to blame, mostly him. She still hadn't figured out that her mother had wanted the divorce. And Mark didn't want to point the finger at her. He was waiting for Janet to step up to the plate and take responsibility for it herself, but so far she hadn't. |
| 4902 |
They'd been fine, until Adam came along. Mark wondered how she was going to sell him to the kids, maybe as someone she'd just met. It was probably going to be years before they figured it out, if they ever did, which depressed him too. His children were going to go on blaming him forever for causing the divorce. |
| 4903 |
He had the code to the gate and opened it, and when he let himself into the guest wing, it was immaculately clean. Everything had been vacuumed and dusted, and the furniture shone. The kitchen was spotless and there were clean sheets on his bed. And for a surprisingly long moment, it felt like coming home. |
| 4904 |
He was certainly a good looking man, and Mark wondered when and if they'd meet. He had seen someone drive in behind him in a Rolls Royce convertible that afternoon, but he was just far enough ahead that all he could see was a man with silver hair, presumably Coop, and a pretty girl next to him in the front seat. |
| 4905 |
Mark realized Coop had a far more interesting life than he. After sixteen years being faithfully married, he couldn't even imagine what it would be like to start dating again, and had no desire to. He had too much on his mind, too many memories, too many regrets, and all he could think about were his kids. |
| 4906 |
For the moment, there was no room for a woman in his life. Room maybe, but no heart. He was just grateful that when he went to bed that night, he slept like a baby, and woke up happy the next morning after dreaming that his children were living with him. That would in fact have made it a perfect life for him. |
| 4907 |
And he'd be seeing them in two weeks. It was something to look forward to, and all he needed now. He went to cook himself breakfast, and was surprised to discover that the kitchen stove didn't work. He made a note to call the realtor about it, but he didn't really care. He was just as happy with orange juice and toast. |
| 4908 |
He wasn't much of a cook, except when the kids were around, he would cook for them. And in the main part of the house, Coop was making similar discoveries. His cook had left earlier that week, after finding another job. Livermore was already gone. And both maids were off for the weekend, and leaving the following week. |
| 4909 |
The houseman was already working for someone else. And Paloma didn't come in on weekends. Pamela was cooking breakfast for him, wearing bikini underwear and one of his shirts. She claimed to be a whiz in the kitchen, as witnessed by a mound of rock hard scrambled eggs and burnt bacon she handed him on a plate in bed. |
| 4910 |
She went back to get them as Coop used a cautious finger to poke the eggs. They were not only hard, but cold. She'd been talking to a girlfriend on the phone while she cooked. Cooking had never been her strong suit, but what she did in bed with him was, and he was pleased. The only problem was, she couldn't talk. |
| 4911 |
He just liked being with her. There was something very invigorating about young girls. He had a marvelous way with women her age, he was debonair and fun and worldly wise and sophisticated, and besides which, he took her shopping nearly every day. She had never had as much fun in her life as she was having with Coop. |
| 4912 |
There was no question about it. Cooper Winslow knew how to live. He flushed the eggs down the toilet when she went back downstairs to get him a glass of orange juice, and she was proud to see that he had eaten everything. And as soon as she ate hers, he brought her back to bed with him, where they spent the afternoon. |
| 4913 |
He was shooting a car commercial, which was a big deal, and they were paying him handsomely for it, and it was going to be Liz's last week. Coop was actually happy to climb into his bed alone that night. Pamela was a lot of fun, but after a while, she was just a kid. And he no longer was. He needed his beauty sleep. |
| 4914 |
Otherwise he might have been sprawled naked across his bed. "What are you doing in here?" She was wearing a clean uniform, this time with rhinestone sunglasses, and bright red high heeled shoes. She looked like a combination between a nurse in the white uniform, and a gypsy fortune teller, and he wasn't amused. |
| 4915 |
Why in hell did she have to be the one they kept? Couldn't they have kept one of the others? No, of course not, he complained to himself... she was cheap. But he had to admit, twenty minutes later when he came out of the shower, and found his breakfast sitting on a tray on his bed, the eggs were good. |
| 4916 |
He would have complained about her not cooking what he'd asked for, but they were delicious and he devoured it all. Half an hour later, he was out the door, impeccably dressed, as usual, in a blazer, gray slacks and blue shirt, a navy blue Hermes tie, and his hair as beautifully groomed as it always was. |
| 4917 |
He was a vision of elegance and sophistication as he slipped into his old Rolls, and drove off. And Mark followed him down the drive, on his way to work. He wondered where Coop was going at that hour, and couldn't imagine it. He was alone for once, which was unusual for him, but so was leaving the house at that hour. |
| 4918 |
He had never been as sweet to her, or as generous. He gave her a diamond ring that he said had been his mother's, which was one of those stories she was always skeptical of. But whosever ring it had been, it was beautiful and fit her perfectly, and she promised him she would always wear it and think of him. |
| 4919 |
But he had resigned himself to her departure by then, reassured her that she was doing the right thing, left her at her place and drove home, where he had a new flame waiting for him. Pamela was on location for a magazine in Milan. And he had met Charlene while doing the car commercial he'd just done. |
| 4920 |
He had invited her to spend the weekend with him, and she had accepted with a squeal of delight. He was already thinking of going to the Hotel du Cap with her. She would look fabulous with her top off at the pool. She was in his bed when he got home after his dinner with Liz, and he joined her without ceremony. |
| 4921 |
He was sure it would be fixed by then, even if he had to take care of it himself, and he told the realtor he was willing to. She said she would see what she could do. But Coop never returned any of her calls, or his. And Coop was scheduled to do another commercial that week, for a brand of chewing gum. |
| 4922 |
His agent had been beating the bushes for him to no avail. His reputation was too well known in Hollywood, and given the kind of parts he wanted to play, romantic leads, leading men, he was simply too old. He wasn't ready to play fathers or grandfathers yet. And there hadn't been any demand for aging playboys in years. |
| 4923 |
Those things had a way of working themselves out, particularly in Coop's world. It was all about bodies and temporary alliances and quick affairs. It was only when he went out with famous actresses that he encouraged the rumors about engagements and wedding bells. But he wanted none of that with Charlene. |
| 4924 |
She had done a little cleaning for him, and he'd paid her handsomely. She would have done it for him anyway. She felt sorry for him when he told her his wife had left him for another man, and she started leaving fresh fruit in a bowl on his kitchen table, and some tortillas she'd made. She liked hearing about his kids. |
| 4925 |
Janet said he should have given them more time to settle in before he came, and she seemed nervous and hostile to him. She was leading a double life, pretending to be unattached when she was with the kids, and continuing her clandestine affair. And Adam wanted to know when he was going to meet her kids. |
| 4926 |
He took them to the theater, and a movie. He went shopping with Jessica, and he and Jason went for a long walk in the rain, trying to make sense of things. And by Sunday afternoon, he felt as though he had only scratched the surface, and hated leaving them again. He was depressed all the way home on the plane. |
| 4927 |
Jimmy hesitated for a long moment, and then accepted gratefully. He was surprised himself at how much stuff he had. He had sent most of what he had to storage, but had kept a lot of framed photographs, some trophies, his sports equipment, and his clothes. He had a lot of stereo equipment, some of which was Maggie's. |
| 4928 |
She had just caught a fish in a lake on one of their trips to Ireland, and she looked victorious and pleased, her bright red hair tied in a knot on top of her head, her eyes squinting against the sun. She looked about fourteen years old. It was the summer before she got sick, only about seven months ago. |
| 4929 |
Mark couldn't think of anything worse than what had happened to his new friend. Jimmy turned up half an hour later, looking fresh and clean, with freshly shampooed hair. He was wearing shorts and a T shirt, and carrying a tennis racket. And he was vastly impressed when he saw the wing where Mark lived. |
| 4930 |
He showed up an hour later with a bottle of very decent cabernet, and they sat on Jimmy's terrace and talked about life, sports, their jobs, Mark's kids, and the ones Jimmy wished he'd had, and might someday, and they talked as little as possible about their wives. It was still too painful for both of them. |
| 4931 |
It made him feel young again, and challenged, and amused. She had a kittenish quality, which titillated him, and then a moment later, she was a fierce lioness, defying him to conquer her. She kept him busy for most of the night. And the next morning, she sneaked downstairs to cook breakfast for him. |
| 4932 |
And if it hadn't been so embarrassing he would have laughed at the scene. He felt completely inept standing in front of her, and while he continued to look mortified, she made him a cup of coffee and handed it to him. "Are you the tenant?" she asked comfortably, as he held the steaming cup, trying to retreat. |
| 4933 |
He locked the door to the main house again, and then stood grinning in the hallway off his living room where the communicating door was. He couldn't believe the scene he'd just been in. It was like something in a very bad movie. But she sure had one hell of a figure, and incredibly long raven black hair. |
| 4934 |
And once he was dressed, he couldn't resist walking up to the gatehouse to tell Jimmy. He had already vowed to himself he was going out to buy a new coffee machine that afternoon. Jimmy was sitting on the patio, drinking a mug of coffee and reading the newspaper, when he looked up and saw Mark grinning at him. |
| 4935 |
They had isolated themselves, and now they had each found a partner in their isolation. It was far easier than being with the people who knew them when they were married. It was like starting with a clean slate, even though they had shared their stories. But their old friends' pity was sometimes hard to take. |
| 4936 |
Mark went back to his place half an hour later. He had brought some work home from the office. But they met up again at the pool later that afternoon. Mark had bought himself a new coffee machine, and Jimmy had finished unpacking by then. He had put up half a dozen pictures of Maggie in key locations. |
| 4937 |
He was a vision of perfection, and they both jumped like two kids who had been caught doing something they shouldn't. In fact, they had both been given access to the pool, and the only reason Coop had come out was to meet them. He had seen them from his terrace. Charlene was upstairs, in the shower, washing her hair. |
| 4938 |
He seemed totally at ease in his own skin, and he was obviously used to attention and adulation. There was no question that he was entirely aware of how dazzling he was. He had made his living off it for half a century. They were impressive statistics, particularly given the way he looked, at his age. |
| 4939 |
He had already decided to have them fixed himself and take the appropriate amount off his next rent check. He didn't want to open the conversation about his morning coffee, on the off chance that the woman with the huge breasts had told Coop, even though she'd promised she wouldn't. Mark was afraid to trust her. |
| 4940 |
Coop smiled winningly at both of them again, chatted for a few more minutes and then left them, as the two much younger men stared at each other once he was gone. They waited several minutes before speaking, to give him a chance to go back into his own house, so he wouldn't overhear them. "Holy shit," Mark spoke first. |
| 4941 |
He had been involved with his share of heiresses, and a number of very wealthy women of more respectable ages over the years, but Coop had always preferred the young ones. There had even been an Indian princess, and a couple of very wealthy Saudis. But no matter who they were, or how wealthy, Coop always tired of them. |
| 4942 |
One is a lawyer, and the other one is a social worker. The social worker looks like a kid, and went to Harvard. The lawyer looks a little nervous, but he was perfectly pleasant. They seem reasonable and well behaved, as long as they don't start throwing beer bottles into the pool, or adopt undesirable orphans. |
| 4943 |
He had felt adrift ever since she left. His house and his life were like a ship without a rudder. He still couldn't imagine what he would do without her. And when he checked his appointment book that morning, he saw her careful handwriting in it. He was expected at a dinner party at the Schwartzes' that night. |
| 4944 |
He was a major producer, and she had been an actress and great beauty in the fifties. Coop didn't want to go, but he knew they'd be upset if he didn't. He was far more interested in spending another night with Charlene, and he didn't want to take her with him. She was a little bit too racy for that circle. |
| 4945 |
Charlene was the kind of girl he played with, not someone he wanted to be seen with at formal dinner parties. He had many categories of women. Charlene was an "at home" girl. The major movie stars he reserved for premieres and openings, where they would double their impact on the press by being seen together. |
| 4946 |
And there were a whole flock of young actresses and models he enjoyed going out with. But he preferred going to the Schwartzes' parties alone. They always had a roomful of interesting people, and he never knew who he'd meet there. It was more effective to be alone, and they enjoyed having him as a bachelor. |
| 4947 |
And on his left was a young woman he had never met before. She had a delicate, aristocratic face, big brown eyes, ivory skin, and dark hair pulled back in a bun, like a Degas ballerina. "Good evening," he said pleasantly. He noticed that she was small and lithe, and he wondered if she actually was a dancer. |
| 4948 |
And as a brigade of waiters served the first course, he asked her, and she laughed. It wasn't the first time someone had asked her that, and she claimed she was flattered. She knew who he was, and had been excited to find him sitting next to her. Her place card said Alexandra Madison, which meant nothing to him. |
| 4949 |
He had had a lifelong distrust of children, and an aversion to them. He generally tried to choose women who didn't have them. They complicated everything, and had spoiled many an evening for him. Women without children were much more fun to be with, from his standpoint. You didn't have to rush home to pay babysitters. |
| 4950 |
She was still laughing at him when the meal came to an end, and he was sorry when she got up and went to talk to some old friends she had spotted at another table. They were friends of her parents, and she thought she should speak to them, but she told Coop how much she had enjoyed meeting him, and she meant it. |
| 4951 |
And totally simple and unassuming, and one of the brightest girls he'd ever met. Better than that, she had a lot of spirit. It would have been difficult not to be attracted to her, or amused, or challenged at least. Coop watched her with interest as she spoke to a number of people. She had scored a hit with Cooper. |
| 4952 |
She was clearly a woman who would not tolerate any nonsense. Better yet, or worse, she'd been hurt, and he could see that she was cautious. And who she was, or who her father was, only added depth and color to the picture. She appealed to him immensely, and would have, with or without her father, or his money. |
| 4953 |
They said she was on duty, but couldn't be called to the phone. He was surprised to find he was disappointed when he didn't hear back from her. And two days later, he was out in black tie again. He was invited to the Golden Globes as usual, although he hadn't been nominated for anything in more than twenty years. |
| 4954 |
The attention they got from the press was staggering, and they had been linked romantically from time to time over the years. His press agent had leaked that they were getting married once, and she got annoyed with him. But they had been seen together too often now for anyone to believe the rumor again. |
| 4955 |
With the endless adulation and all eyes on them, it took them nearly half an hour to get to their seats. They were at tables, and would be eating a meal before the televised awards began. And Coop was visibly attentive to her, leaning gently toward her, handing her a glass of champagne, carrying her coat. |
| 4956 |
He had kissed her once, just for the hell of it, but she was so narcissistic he knew he couldn't have stood her for more than a week, nor she him. They were both smart about that. As soon as the show began, and the cameras scanned the audience, they zoomed in instantly, and at considerable length, on them. |
| 4957 |
They had recent grief and loneliness in common, and neither of them was ready to date. It helped pass the evenings to share a steak and a few beers a couple of times a week. And once Coop vanished from the screen, they settled in to watch the Golden Globes. Jimmy had just put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. |
| 4958 |
She had already had a busy, stressful evening, when she walked through the waiting room looking for the parents of a two week old preemie who had been a code blue earlier in the day, but had been stabilized again. She wanted to reassure them that their baby's vital signs were stable, and he had gone to sleep. |
| 4959 |
It was funny to think how distant their world was from her own. She spent her days and nights saving lives, and comforting parents whose babies hovered on the brink of death. And people like Coop and Rita Waverly spent their time looking beautiful and going to parties, wearing furs and jewels and evening gowns. |
| 4960 |
It often made her realize that it was a good thing she hadn't married Carter. Now that he had married her sister, and was emblazoned in the social register, he was as snobbish and arrogant as all the other men she detested in her old world. Coop was an entirely different breed. He was a movie star, a celebrity. |
| 4961 |
A moment later, after watching him until the camera moved away from him again, she went back to her safe, protected environment, full of incubators, and tiny babies on monitors and tubes. And she forgot about Coop and the Golden Globes again. She didn't even see his message on her pager until the next day. |
| 4962 |
As far as he was concerned, their relationship wasn't serious or important enough to warrant publicity. Besides which, being seen with Rita Waverly did him a great deal more good. He enjoyed Charlene, and others like her, immensely but privately. He had no desire whatsoever to show her off to the world. |
| 4963 |
She was going to turn ugly soon, Coop knew. Those kinds of inquiries always encouraged him to move along quickly to the next candidate on his list. Beautiful or not, Charlene's moment in the sun was almost up. There were always others waiting for him in the wings. It was time to turn the corner again. |
| 4964 |
His cell phone rang again almost immediately and he let it go to voice mail, and then she tried his house. She called for the next two hours, and he finally switched off the phone, and went to sleep. He hated possessive women who made scenes. It was definitely time for Charlene to vanish out of his life. |
| 4965 |
She had always been so good at that. If Charlene had been more important to him, he'd have sent her a diamond bracelet or some similarly impressive gift to thank her for the time they'd spent together. But she hadn't been around long enough to warrant it. And in her case, he knew, it would only have encouraged her. |
| 4966 |
If she hadn't, he would have been perfectly happy to keep her around for at least another two or three weeks, but surely no longer than that. But after tonight, she was destined for a speedy exit. In fact, he knew, as he heard his phone ring in the distance for the hundredth time, she was already gone. |
| 4967 |
She was sobbing and hysterical, and said she wanted to see him immediately. She said she was going to have a nervous breakdown if he didn't, and it took him an hour to get off the phone. He told her he didn't think their relationship was good for her, and it seemed wiser not to see each other for a while. |
| 4968 |
She was still crying, but less hysterically, when he finally got off the phone. And he went to find Paloma immediately. He was still in his pajamas, when he found her in the living room, vacuuming. She was wearing a new pair of purple velvet sneakers and matching sunglasses, with rhinestones of course. |
| 4969 |
He was still irritated when he finally got out of bed, showered, shaved, and dressed. He was having lunch at Spago with a director he'd worked with years before. Coop had called and suggested lunch, he wanted to find out what he was up to. You never knew when someone was making a movie with a great part for him. |
| 4970 |
And it was only on his way to Spago that he remembered he had never heard from Alex, and he decided to page her again. He left his cell phone number on her pager. He was surprised and pleased when she answered him immediately this time. He had just put his cell phone on the seat next to him when she called. |
| 4971 |
She seemed all innocence and decency and good spirits. It was very refreshing for Coop, who was so tired of jaded women. Alex was like a breath of fresh air in his very sophisticated existence. She was an entirely different creature, and the fact that she was Arthur Madison's daughter hadn't been forgotten either. |
| 4972 |
She went back to work after that, and Coop went to his lunch at Spago. It proved entertaining but fruitless. Things had been more than a little thin for him of late. He'd been offered another commercial, for men's underwear this time, and he had refused to do it. He never lost sight of the importance of his image. |
| 4973 |
Much as he hated to be driven by financial concerns, he knew he had to make some money. All he needed was one great, big, fat movie, and a leading role at that. It never seemed impossible to Coop, or even unlikely. It was just a question of timing. And in the meantime, there were cameos and commercials. |
| 4974 |
They talked about a thousand different subjects, Kenya again, and Indonesia, where she had done extensive traveling after college. And Bali, which was one of her favorite places, along with Nepal, where she'd gone trekking. She talked about the books she liked to read, most of which were surprisingly serious. |
| 4975 |
She had a delightful evening with him, and she said so as he drove her home. It was only nine thirty, and he'd been careful not to keep her out late, or he knew she'd be reluctant to see him again, if he dragged her around till midnight and she felt like death the next morning. He knew she had to get up at six thirty. |
| 4976 |
She had feared he would be all glitter and flash and charm, and very much a product of his business. She was surprised to find him intelligent and warm, and well informed. She didn't have the feeling that he was playing a part, but rather that he was in fact a worthwhile human being, which surprised her. |
| 4977 |
And Alex was open and easy to read, and she had explained herself to him. She thanked him without kissing him, and he watched to make sure she got into the building safely. He waved as he drove away, and she looked pensive as she rode up in the elevator. It was hard to know if he was for real, and she was skeptical. |
| 4978 |
He was a very experienced player. Alex took her clothes off and dumped them in a heap on a chair, along with the surgical pajamas she'd worn all day, and the ones she'd worn the day before, and the day before that. She never had time to do laundry either. Coop was very pleased with himself as he drove home. |
| 4979 |
He was far more intrigued by Alex. And not entirely indifferent to her fortune. It wasn't his main attraction to her, but it certainly added incentive to lust and fascination. Charlene had none of that to offer. And he also wisely sensed that if he wanted to date Alex, he would have to keep his nose relatively clean. |
| 4980 |
Charlene was history, and an extremely brief, undistinguished chapter. He had had many like her, and he always tired of them quickly. And the few exotic elements she had, like a Japanese grandmother, and having lived in Paris and grown up in Brazil, simply didn't make up for what she lacked in distinction. |
| 4981 |
Overnight, she had become a major problem. But there wasn't much he could do about it. She'd give up eventually, but in the meantime, she was being very unpleasant, and Coop was annoyed at her. He called Alex that afternoon, but she had three emergencies back to back, and she didn't get back to him till that evening. |
| 4982 |
He hadn't asked what kind of medicine she practiced, and Coop had monopolized most of the conversation with his stories. And they were always amusing. He was easy to be with, and both Mark and Jimmy could see why women liked him. He was infinitely charming, undeniably good looking, and his wit was sharp and quick. |
| 4983 |
Mark was making hamburgers and Caesar salad. And things were going pretty well, until he put too much fuel on the charcoal and flames started leaping skyward, and seemed to get rapidly out of control. "Shit, I haven't done this in a while," he apologized, trying to dampen the flames and save their dinner. |
| 4984 |
She walked away from the center of conversation so she could hear better. Two of their preemies had coded, and one had died. The resident on duty had his hands full and needed her to come in. A new patient was on its way in, a preemie that was hydrocephalic. She glanced at her watch as she approached the group again. |
| 4985 |
Hanging out with a famous movie star seemed totally surreal. The two friends said goodnight to each other, Mark went back to the guest wing, and Jimmy to the gatehouse, as Coop sat in the library, smiling to himself, sipping a glass of port. He'd had a very pleasant evening, although different than he'd expected. |
| 4986 |
And as she settled down on a cot in her office to get some sleep, she wondered what it would be like if she ever took Coop seriously, if one even could. It was hard to know who he really was behind the charm, and the wit, and the stories. She wondered if it was all a facade, or if there was someone real inside. |
| 4987 |
It was hard to say, but she was tempted to find out. She realized too that the age difference between them was considerable, but he was such an extraordinary man, she really didn't care about his age. There was something about Coop that made her want to ignore all the possible risks of being involved with him. |
| 4988 |
He was enchanting and mesmerizing and captivating. She kept trying to remind herself that going out with him might not be such a wise idea. He was older, he was a movie star, and he had been involved with innumerable women over the years. But all she could think of was how dazzling and immensely appealing he was. |
| 4989 |
Mark was in a deep sleep, assisted by the wine he had drunk with Jimmy and Coop, when he heard the phone ring. He started to wake up, and then decided he was imagining it. He had had a lot to drink, and he knew if he opened his eyes, he would have a serious headache, so he kept his eyes closed and went on sleeping. |
| 4990 |
She didn't think they were ready either, but he said he refused to stay hidden any longer. If she was serious about him, he wanted to meet them. And it had been a disaster. She and Adam had had a huge fight afterwards, and he had stormed off, slamming the door behind him. It had been a nightmarish evening. |
| 4991 |
He wanted them to like him, and he was insulted by the way they'd behaved, and threatened her about it. "Stay in touch," Mark said, and then hung up. He lay in bed for another two hours after that, unable to sleep, with his head pounding. It was nearly nine when he got up, and after ten when he got to the office. |
| 4992 |
But her children didn't want him. And as a result, they didn't want Janet either. At the end of the vacation, Mark sat down with Janet, and told her he had no idea how to make them settle down and stay with her. Jessica was threatening to call a child advocacy lawyer, and ask the court to send her to her father. |
| 4993 |
She didn't want to lose her children. Or Adam. And he had not only told her he wanted to marry her as soon as the ink on the divorce was dry, but he wanted her to get pregnant. He wanted them to have a baby, maybe two. She couldn't even imagine selling that to her children. But she'd deal with that later. |
| 4994 |
They were still furious with their mother, and her boyfriend. He flew back to California that night, and spent the next week negotiating with their school to let them back in. They had been gone for less than three months, and they were in an excellent school in New York, so they hadn't lost any ground. |
| 4995 |
She had never done well in stressful situations. He had always handled everything for her. Except her affair with Adam. She had managed that on her own, and screwed up everyone's life in the process. She told the children on Sunday, and they didn't even have the grace to pretend they were sorry they were leaving. |
| 4996 |
He was going to drive them to their activities himself, and shorten his workday if he had to. They were worth it. Janet stood in the airport looking devastated when they left. They had hugged her before they left her, and Jason hesitated for a long moment. Even if he didn't want to stay, he felt sorry for her. |
| 4997 |
She could hardly wait to get to California, and see her dad. And the scene at the other end was one of unreserved jubilation. Mark was waiting for them as they got off the plane, and the kids gave a whoop of joy. There were tears in his eyes as he held them. Things were finally beginning to look up for him. |
| 4998 |
He'd been involved with career women before, and even a couple of lawyers, but never a doctor. And not a resident. His dating life with her consisted of pizzas, fast food, and Chinese takeout, and nearly every meal, movie, and evening was interrupted by calls from the hospital. She couldn't help it. |
| 4999 |
It was why most residents had no personal life, and most of them dated doctors or nurses, or other med students or residents. Dating a famous movie star was a whole other experience for her. But she was clear about the demands on her time, and she did the best she could to juggle. Coop did his best to adjust to it. |
| 5000 |
And most of the time, he forgot about her fortune. Every now and then, it crossed his mind, and it only enhanced the package further. Like a red ribbon on a Christmas gift. But he tried not to think about it. His only concern was how her parents would feel about him. So far, he hadn't dared discuss it with her. |
| 5001 |
She didn't want to make another mistake, and she had no intention of moving quickly with Coop. He had kissed her after the fifth date, but they had gone no further, and he didn't press her. He was smarter than that, and far more patient. He wasn't going to sleep with her until she begged him for it. |
| 5002 |
Even when he wasn't with Alex, he stayed at home at night and read scripts, or went out with friends. He went to another, smaller dinner at the Schwartzes', but Alex couldn't make it this time, she was working. And he didn't mention her to them. He didn't think it was a good idea for people to know they were dating. |
| 5003 |
He knew how proper and decent she was, and she would have hated being dragged through the tabloids, as a member of a chorus line he was now trying to avoid. She knew of his reputation to some extent, he had been a glamorous playboy around Hollywood for decades after all, but he preferred to keep the details from her. |
| 5004 |
It was a major victory when they went to a movie. And she enjoyed coming to The Cottage whenever she was off on the weekends. She swam in the pool, and she cooked dinner for him one night, and then had to leave before she could eat it with him. She was used to it, but it was a major adjustment for Coop. |
| 5005 |
But it seemed challenging, and she was so bright and intelligent, the obstacles and inconveniences seemed worth it to him. She enjoyed chatting with Mark when she ran into him at the pool. He talked a lot about his kids, and shared with her one night, the problems he was having with them and Janet, and Adam. |
| 5006 |
He kept to himself a lot of the time, and he seemed uncomfortable around women. He hated the fact that he was single again. In his heart, he was still married. And by then, she had figured out that they were both tenants, although Coop never admitted it to her, and she never questioned him about it. |
| 5007 |
She had dated Coop for three weeks when he invited her to go away for a weekend. She said she would see if she could get the time, although she doubted it, and was amazed when she found she could arrange it. Her only condition was separate rooms at the hotel. She wasn't ready to commit her body to the relationship yet. |
| 5008 |
She wanted to take her time, and move slowly, but she was immensely attracted to him. And she told Coop she would pay for her own hotel room. They were going to stay at a resort he knew in Mexico, and she was excited about it. She hadn't taken a vacation since she started her residency, and she loved to travel. |
| 5009 |
No one would know what they were up to. It was a naive assessment on her part, and Coop didn't disabuse her of it. It suited his purposes not to. He wanted to go away with her, and didn't want to discourage her from going by frightening her about the press. He wanted to keep everything simple and pleasant. |
| 5010 |
They never saw anyone, except when they wanted to. And in the late afternoon, they went into town, wandered into shops, and sat at outdoor cafes drinking margaritas. It felt like a honeymoon, and on the second night, just as he had hoped she would, she seduced him. She wasn't even drunk when she did it. |
| 5011 |
No man had ever been as kind to her, as thoughtful, or as gentle. He was not only a wonderful companion, and a great friend, but the perfect lover. Cooper Winslow knew his way around women. He knew what they wanted, what they liked to do, and how they liked to be treated, as well as what they needed. |
| 5012 |
She had never enjoyed shopping with anyone as much as she did with Coop, she had never talked as easily to anyone, never laughed as much, had never been as spoiled. She had never known anyone like him. She was also surprised by how many autographs he signed, and how many people stopped him to take his photograph. |
| 5013 |
It wasn't a reality he faced often. But it was nice knowing she wasn't financially dependent on him. That had always been an issue for him. He had never wanted to take on a wife, when his own circumstances weren't stable, and most of the time, they weren't. Even when he had money, it slipped right through his hands. |
| 5014 |
He didn't need help spending it, and most of the women he had known had been fearfully expensive. Alex wasn't, and she had her own anyway, so it wasn't an issue. For the first time in his life, he was actually thinking about marriage. In a vague, distant way of course, but it no longer terrified him to the same degree. |
| 5015 |
Much to his own amazement, he could actually contemplate settling down with her, without wanting Dr. Kevorkian to officiate at the wedding. He had always thought he would have preferred suicide to marriage. The two had always seemed equally lethal, and synonymous to some degree. But with Alex, everything was different. |
| 5016 |
When she'd asked him about it, he had said that he'd never found the right girl. But now he was beginning to think he finally had. Alex was a woman worth having for a lifetime. The weekend they shared was magical, and when they flew back to LA, they were both starry eyed and sorry to leave each other. |
| 5017 |
He felt like a new man. He insisted on carrying her bag up to her apartment. He had never seen it, and he was shocked when he did. He was stunned by the stacks of discarded hospital scrub suits, lying in piles, the medical books stacked sky high on the floor, the bathroom with no frills and no amenities. |
| 5018 |
She was so exquisite and so delicate, but all she had cared about for years was being a doctor. He had seen gas stations that were more inviting. "I think you should throw a match into this place and move in with me immediately." But he knew she wouldn't. She was far too cautious and independent to do that. |
| 5019 |
And when he got back to The Cottage, he truly missed her. He had never felt that way before about any woman. Paloma came in later that morning, and when she saw the look on his face, she was intrigued. She was beginning to think he really was in love with the young doctor. It almost made her like him better. |
| 5020 |
Coop couldn't imagine any other way for him to get there. The boy stood staring up at him in terror and amazement. All he could think of to say was, "My father lives here," in a strangled voice as he clutched his skateboard to his chest. He had never contemplated for an instant the damage he might do to the marble. |
| 5021 |
He still didn't know that Paloma occasionally did laundry and some minor housekeeping for Mark in her spare time. Coop had poured himself a stiff drink the minute he slammed the door, and sat down to page Alex. She called him five minutes later. She could hear in his voice that something terrible had happened. |
| 5022 |
He explained the circumstances to Coop, all of them, and said that he was sure the kids would go back to Janet at the end of the school year. More than likely, they would only be there for three months. It sounded like a death sentence to Coop. All he wanted to hear was that they were leaving the next day. |
| 5023 |
He was furious that Mark had somehow snuck them in on him. Coop didn't want to run a high school or a nursery, or a Cub Scout troop, or a skateboard park. He didn't want children within a hundred miles of his house, or his life. He just hoped their mother's romance ended quickly, and they'd go back to her soon. |
| 5024 |
Jason saw Coop drive in a few times, but there was no further incident, at least for the first two weeks of their living there. They were happy to be back in LA with their old pals, loved their school, and thought their new home was really "cool," in spite of what they referred to as their crabby landlord. |
| 5025 |
And other than Jason using his front steps as a skateboard ramp on the first day he was there, so far at least there had been no other problems. It was only on the first weekend Alex spent at the house with him, that they both woke up at noon, and heard what sounded like a convention in full progress at his pool. |
| 5026 |
It sounded like there were five hundred people shouting to each other. There was loud rap music coming from somewhere, and Alex couldn't help smiling as she lay in bed listening to the lyrics. They were absolutely filthy, but very funny, and totally irreverent about grown ups and what kids thought of them. |
| 5027 |
He loved his peaceful, orderly life, and he loved having everything beautiful and elegant around him. The songs they were listening to qualified as neither, and she felt sorry for him. "That would be lovely," he said gratefully, as she stepped into shorts and a T shirt and slipped her feet into sandals. |
| 5028 |
Unlike Alex, who always woke up feeling as though she'd been dragged behind a horse on a rope all night. Her hair was all over the place, and with the hours she worked, she was always exhausted. But she had youth on her side, and she looked like a kid herself as she went out to the pool, to deliver his message to Mark. |
| 5029 |
There was always something guarded about Jimmy's eyes, as though even looking at people now was painful. Alex could see the toll his loss had taken on him. He looked like someone who had suffered a trauma. He had that familiar shell shocked look she saw in the eyes of parents who had just lost their babies. |
| 5030 |
He liked her, he got a sense of enormous warmth and compassion from her. He wasn't sure what she did, but he remembered it was something with babies. And he suspected she was good at it. She was obviously smart, and seemed like a very caring person. He hadn't figured out yet what she was doing with Cooper Winslow. |
| 5031 |
He had burned muffins to a crisp, and had broken the yolks on all four of the eggs he was frying. The bacon was burned beyond recognition, and he had spilled orange juice all over the table. "You can cook!" she said with amazement, and a broad smile as she took stock of the chaos. She couldn't have done much better. |
| 5032 |
She had used his best plates, Baccarat crystal for the orange juice, and folded paper towels in lieu of napkins. "The delivery is excellent You need a little work on table service Linen is always a nice touch when you're using good china," he teased her, but he smiled at her as he set down the newspaper. |
| 5033 |
She had a growing feeling that he was serious about her, and she didn't really mind. So far at least, she liked everything about him, but it was early days yet. They had been going out for barely more than a month, and a lot of things could change, problems could come up, as they got to know each other better. |
| 5034 |
They came here from another galaxy, to stamp out life on Planet Earth, as they see it. They have a tremendous advantage in doing so, they have no hearts, medium sized brains which process only the obvious, and they have an embarrassing amount of money, which they use almost exclusively to their own advantage. |
| 5035 |
But she and Carter would have killed each other. It had taken her years to realize that he was just like her father, and her sister was just like her mother. All her sister wanted was the money and the name and the security and the prestige of being married to someone important. She didn't know who he was, or care. |
| 5036 |
And all Carter wanted was to be the most important man on the planet. Her father was all about himself, and so was Carter. And they weren't close enough to discuss it anymore, but Alex had suspected for years that her sister was unhappy. Alex was sorry for her, she was an empty, lonely, vapid, useless human being. |
| 5037 |
She wanted nothing from anyone, and surely not from him. She didn't need Coop, she just loved him. She wasn't even emotionally dependent on him, she enjoyed his company, and she was able to walk at any time, if need be. It was an enviable position to be in. Young, smart, free, rich, beautiful, and independent. |
| 5038 |
At times, he almost wished she wasn't who she was, because he couldn't pretend to himself that she wasn't one of the richest young women in the country. And he wasn't sure what he would have felt about her, other than just enjoying her for a short time, if she wasn't. It complicated things, and colored them. |
| 5039 |
And worst of all, he didn't want to hurt her. He had never worried about that before, with any of the women he dated. Alex brought the best out in him, and he wasn't at all sure he liked it. Being responsible and respectable was an enormous burden. The phone rang while he was shaving, and he didn't answer it. |
| 5040 |
He knew Paloma was there somewhere, but wherever she was, she didn't pick it up, and it went on ringing. He thought it might be Alex. She was working for the next several days to make up for the weekend. He ran to answer the phone with shaving cream still on his face, and was irritated the instant he heard her. |
| 5041 |
And in Charlene's case, it seemed a fair question. He knew she had had quite an active romantic career before him, possibly during, and surely after. Sex was the mainstay of Charlene's life, and her primary means of communication. The way some women used food, or shopping. She was a very active young woman. |
| 5042 |
He had never loved her. He felt utterly threatened not only by what she said, but the tone of her voice. And more than a human dilemma, her plight seemed more like a threat for blackmail. It was hard for him to feel anything toward her. And every protective feeling he had was not for her, but for Alex. |
| 5043 |
What she really wanted was to get him back, and to make him feel obligated to her, but he didn't. He didn't for a moment believe that she was sincere about any of this, and he wasn't about to do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Alex. The affair with Charlene had lasted a mere three weeks. |
| 5044 |
No one was hiring him anyway, except for cameos, and the occasional commercial. But he still didn't want to be pulled into a scandal with her. He had never been involved in anything like that. He might have been known as frivolous, or a playboy, but no one had ever had anything truly scandalous to say about him. |
| 5045 |
Or if it was a Halloween costume, it was a very good one. It impressed him to see her there, and the easy way she had breezed past the desk and instructed one of the nurses before she addressed him. She was really something. Which made him even more nervous as he contemplated what he was about to tell her. |
| 5046 |
She had been falling for him since she met him. And now this sounded like a farewell speech. She sat back in her chair and watched him. If nothing else, she was going to take her lumps with dignity and courage. And he could see that she was backing off as he watched her. It was self protection. But he continued. |
| 5047 |
She's a simple girl, an aspiring actress, and her only roles so far have been in porn videos and trade shows. She doesn't have a lot going for her, but I thought she was a sweet girl, and we were both playing. She knew the ground rules. She's not an innocent. She's been around the block more than a few times. |
| 5048 |
I have no idea what she's going to do, or if she'll actually have the baby. Or call the tabloids. She's a loose cannon, and she's fully loaded, if you'll pardon the pun. I sent her a check to pay for an abortion, but that's all I'm willing to do for the moment, and I said so. The entire affair lasted three weeks. |
| 5049 |
She knew he would have to review the situation later, if she really did have the baby. But at least he wasn't in love with the woman, and didn't intend to marry her. In essence, it affected nothing between Coop and Alex. Except for some noise that could come up later in the tabloids, and that didn't worry Alex. |
| 5050 |
He didn't care if he ate or not, if he lived or didn't. He was just getting through the days. And the nights were endless. It had been three months since Maggie died, and he was beginning to wonder if it would ever get better. There was no end in sight to the grief he was feeling. And at night, he lay in bed and cried. |
| 5051 |
He saw everything through her eyes. She had taught him so much. He wondered sometimes if that was why she had died. Because she had taught all the lessons she was meant to. But thinking that still didn't make it any easier for him. He missed her unbearably, and the pain he felt night and day was barely tolerable. |
| 5052 |
He managed to stave it off for a few hours sometimes, like when he hung out with Mark, or went to work, or coached softball to the kids he worked with. But it was always waiting there for him, like an old friend, the pain that lurked everywhere and waited to overtake him. It was a fight he couldn't seem to win. |
| 5053 |
He had just decided not to bother cooking anything, when he heard a knock on the door, and got up to answer it. He was looking tired and disheveled, and smiled when he saw it was Mark. Jimmy saw less of him now, because Mark was busy with his children. He had to cook dinner for them, and help them with homework. |
| 5054 |
He'd had a tough time too, but things had gotten better for him when his kids came back to California to live with him. He just hoped something happened soon to make things easier for Jimmy. He was a bright, good looking guy, and a nice one. They hadn't even had time to lob tennis balls at each other lately. |
| 5055 |
It was an uncharitable exchange, but the tabloid article titillated them both, and as Mark left, Jimmy promised to come to dinner on the weekend. Coop wasn't nearly as amused as he discussed the article with Alex when they had dinner that night. He was profoundly upset by it, and the fact that the news was out. |
| 5056 |
He was relieved that she was so philosophical about it. It made things a lot easier for him. They went out for pizza that night, and Alex did everything she could to distract him. But it wasn't easy. He was in a glum mood, and then when they got back to his place, he remembered something he had wanted to ask her. |
| 5057 |
It was midnight blue satin and the most elegant thing she'd ever seen, bias cut, and it showed off her flawless figure. All it needed, when she tried it on, was to be shortened. He had borrowed a sable jacket for her from Dior, and a sapphire necklace that took her breath away, with matching bracelet and earrings. |
| 5058 |
It was still broad daylight when they got there. There was a long red carpet going in, and an endless wagon train of limousines waiting to disgorge their contents. Beautiful women in expensive gowns, wearing dazzling jewels, were the norm, and photographers were pressing and shoving to take their pictures. |
| 5059 |
She was asleep in his arms in less than five minutes, and when the alarm went off at five, she almost turned over and went back to sleep, but Coop pushed her gently out of bed and told her he'd call her later. Twenty minutes later, she was grinding down the driveway in her ancient car, and wide awake. |
| 5060 |
Anything between twenty one and thirty was fair game for Coop. Liz also asked him how much he was working. She hadn't seen him in anything lately, not even a commercial. He'd been calling his agent, but nothing seemed to be brewing, for the moment. But as his agent reminded him, he wasn't getting any younger. |
| 5061 |
He never even thought about being forty years older than she was. And neither did Alex. She had pondered the issue initially and as she got to know him and fell in love with him, she dismissed it. They were lying on his terrace talking about nothing in particular that weekend, when her pager went off. |
| 5062 |
She was on call, but when she glanced down at it, she saw that it wasn't the hospital. She instantly recognized the number, and waited half an hour to pick up her cell phone. Coop was stretched out in a deck chair in the shade next to her, reading the paper, and only listening with half an ear to her conversation. |
| 5063 |
It was the way meetings with him always went. Nothing ever changed in her dealings with him. He arrived five minutes early, and he was waiting in the cafeteria for her when she arrived. He was tall and slim, with gray hair and blue eyes, and he looked stern. He always had to have an agenda when he saw her. |
| 5064 |
He could never just talk to her and ask her how she was. Instead, he seemed to go down some kind of mental list, as though he were running a board meeting, and in some ways he was. The only affectionate thing he said to her that even indicated that they were related was that her mother sent her love. |
| 5065 |
She would have hated to admit it, but in some ways she was not unlike him. She was ruthlessly honest, not only about others, but also about herself. She had principles that she adhered to and she was very clear about what she believed. The major difference between them was that Alex was kind, and he was not. |
| 5066 |
He has probably done a thorough check on you, just as I did on him. I have a file an inch thick on him on my desk. And it's not good news. He's been in over his head for years, he has a mountain of bad debts. His credit is nonexistent, I don't think he could borrow a book at the library, if he tried. |
| 5067 |
Maybe he's not even aware of it himself. The man is in a terrible spot. Alex, desperation is not a good thing, for either of you. It might even force him to want to marry you, when he might not otherwise. Aside from that, he's far too old for you. I think you have no idea what you're getting yourself into. |
| 5068 |
But she didn't care. Even if she'd never seen his balance sheet, she knew who Coop was, his quirks, his virtues, and his flaws. And she loved him just as he was. The only thing that worried her was the fact that he didn't want children at his age. That concerned her far more, because she did want them at some point. |
| 5069 |
What if he's trying to provide for his old age, and trying to save himself now, and this is the only way he has? It's too late for him to do it any other way. You're the only meal ticket he has. The girl having his baby isn't going to support him. It's not pretty, Alex, but this book is very easy to read. |
| 5070 |
Even if he meant well, he did it in such an ugly, painful way. It was the way he had always dealt with her. It was all about power and control. And when Carter had run off with her sister, hours before her wedding, he had blamed Alex, and told her that if she'd handled him right, he never would have done it to her. |
| 5071 |
He may be attractive, and obviously he is, as you say, and charming I'm sure, undoubtedly fun to be with, all of which is very alluring at your age. But the rest is an absolute disaster, and I don't think he'll make you happy in the long run, if he even marries you. He's never gotten married before. |
| 5072 |
Hearing about the extent of Coop's debt, she felt sorry for him. Mercifully, her pager went off at the end of his speech. It wasn't an emergency, but she used it as an excuse to bring the meeting to a close. They hadn't eaten a thing. What he had to say was far more important, and he felt it was his responsibility. |
| 5073 |
She didn't want a man like him. And for the moment, she was happy with Coop, in spite of everything her father had said. He walked her to the elevator, and as the doors closed, he turned and walked away, as Alex closed her eyes and rode up to her floor, feeling numb. He always had that effect on her. |
| 5074 |
He was always careful to stay out of the sun, to protect his skin. It was part of the secret of why he never seemed to age. And he loved the peace and quiet of being at the pool in the daytime during the week. There was no one else around. His tenants were at work, and Mark's miserable kids were in school. |
| 5075 |
He wasn't exactly solvent at the moment. And if her father had done an investigation, he was undoubtedly well aware of it. For the first time in his life, it actually bothered Coop what someone might think of him. For both their sakes, he had been meticulously scrupulous with her, in spite of his financial woes. |
| 5076 |
But so far, he had been remarkably good, and had held himself in check. Besides which, he was seriously beginning to suspect he really was in love with her, whatever that meant to him. It had meant different things over the years. Lately, it meant being comfortable and at ease, not having headaches in the relationship. |
| 5077 |
She was wonderfully self sufficient, and if he did get desperate and the bottom fell out of his life financially, he knew he could turn to her. The money she had was like an insurance policy for him. He didn't need it yet, but he might one day. He wasn't with her because of her money, but he liked knowing it was there. |
| 5078 |
Just in case. It made him feel safe. The only thing he didn't like, and which kept him from making any overt promises, was that she was young enough to have kids, and probably should have them one day. That really was too bad, in Coop's eyes. And a real flaw in their relationship. But you couldn't have everything. |
| 5079 |
She hadn't pressed him yet, and he liked that about her too. There was no pressure involved in being with her. There was a lot about her he liked. Almost too much. He was thinking about her, as he walked back into the house, and ran smack into Paloma. She was dusting furniture and eating a sandwich at the same time. |
| 5080 |
He had given up trying to train or educate her. They were just trying to survive on parallel paths without killing each other. And he had figured out several weeks before, that she was doing work for the Fried mans too, but as long as she did what she had to do for him, he didn't really care. It wasn't worth the fight. |
| 5081 |
Once. And show him her mother's letter. It was a piece of history for them to share. She was at the gate ten minutes later, and he buzzed her in from the house. She drove up in a rented car, and when she got out, he saw that she was tall and blonde, in her late thirties, he guessed. She was actually thirty nine. |
| 5082 |
She was a good looking woman, with a slim figure, and a short skirt. She was very well dressed, and seemed to have a sense of style. There was something familiar about her, but he didn't know what it was. He didn't think he'd ever seen her before. And as she approached, she smiled, and then shook his hand. |
| 5083 |
The letter was long, and as he read it, he looked up at her several times. And when he finished it, he sat for a long moment, staring at her, not sure what to say next, or what she wanted from him. He handed her back the letter, and looked serious as he did. If it was another blackmail scheme, he wasn't up to it. |
| 5084 |
She married someone else, had the baby, a daughter, and never told her that the man she believed was her father actually wasn't. It was Coop. Instead, she left her a letter, which explained it all. And now they were sitting, examining each other. The man who thought he had no children suddenly had two. |
| 5085 |
This thirty nine year old woman who had suddenly appeared, and the one Charlene was carrying, and claimed was his. It was a very odd feeling for a man who hated kids. But Taryn was no kid. She was a grown woman, who appeared to be respectable and intelligent, had money, and looked a great deal like him. |
| 5086 |
It was definitely a familiar face. She hadn't left a lifelong impression, but he remembered something about her, and he thought he knew which part she'd played. She'd been an understudy, but the actress she stood in for got drunk a lot, and Coop remembered being on stage with her. But he didn't remember much else. |
| 5087 |
And she liked what she saw. So did he. "It's probably a crazy thing to say, but you were probably a very nice little girl. Your mother must have been a decent woman," particularly for not making trouble for him and shouldering all the responsibilities herself. He wondered if he had cared about her at all. |
| 5088 |
They told each other all about themselves and were amazed at how similar they were in some ways, how many tastes they shared, right down to their favorite ice cream and dessert, and the kind of books they did and didn't like. It was uncanny how powerful the genetics were. And at the end of lunch, he had an odd idea. |
| 5089 |
And Alex could see the resemblance to Coop. Not only physically, but they had the same naturally aristocratic look. It was remarkable. The two things she didn't have in common with him were that she traveled with very little luggage, and she was financially sound. Other than that, they were two peas in a pod. |
| 5090 |
After they'd gotten to know each other, she asked him if he was serious about Alex, and he told her he wasn't sure. It was the most honest thing he'd ever said. Even in the short time he'd known her, Taryn brought the best out in him, even more than Alex. It was as though she had come to make him whole. |
| 5091 |
He just wanted her in his life. It was the closest he'd ever been to unconditional love. And it seemed to have happened overnight, almost as though he had known she was out there somewhere, and he was waiting for her to arrive in his life. He needed her. And maybe, in some odd and unexpected way, Taryn needed him. |
| 5092 |
I had a problem with that with my husband too. We built the business together, and in the end, it brought us down. He wanted to take more money out of it than I did. I did the designing so I got the recognition, and he was jealous of that. In the end, he tried to take the business away in the divorce. |
| 5093 |
It was a hot day, and they all wanted to swim. Mark was talking to Taryn about her business and New York, and the kids were hanging out with friends who had just arrived. Alex asked them not to play their music, since Coop wasn't feeling well, and they hung out at the far end of the pool, talking and laughing. |
| 5094 |
Grief. Some days you think it'll kill you. And other times, it's okay. And you can never tell which when you wake up. A good day can turn to shit. And a day that starts out so badly you want to die can suddenly turn around. It's like pain, or an illness or something, you can never tell which way it's going to go. |
| 5095 |
He'd felt a little guilty disturbing her. She told him where to go, and he said he'd be right up. She was watching for him when he got off the elevator, and waved to him from the desk. She was on the phone, talking to a mom who had just taken her baby home, and everything seemed fine. The baby was doing great. |
| 5096 |
It had taken them five months to get her home. She was one of Alex's stars. "So this is where you do your thing," he said admiringly as he looked around. There was a glass wall behind the desk, where he could see a maze of equipment and incubators and lights and people milling around in scrubs and masks. |
| 5097 |
It was all about him, and Alex was about everyone else. Maybe that was why it worked. They stood chatting near the desk for a little while, and then they needed her to evaluate a patient and consult with an attending, so he said he'd leave. "Thank you for letting me come up," he said, still in awe of her. |
| 5098 |
And he was pleased to see that Taryn followed suit. He nagged Alex constantly about all the sun she took. Jimmy looked more rested for once, Alex thought, automatically assessing him. She treated the rest of the world as though they were patients, and it was hard not to notice how they looked, acted, or moved. |
| 5099 |
And for once, the kids hadn't invited friends over to swim, so things were fairly quiet. With the good weather, it seemed like a constant party at the pool these days, but this time, it was just the actual residents of The Cottage, which was a relief for Coop. The group was big enough without adding to it. |
| 5100 |
Alex thought she'd been a good influence on Coop. Although he'd been wonderful before, he somehow seemed more grounded, and more interested in other people's lives suddenly. He wasn't quite as focused on himself. He actually sounded as though it mattered to him when he asked Alex what she'd done at work. |
| 5101 |
But when she explained it to him, he still looked a little blank. The complicated medical interventions she participated in were a little beyond him, as they would have been for most people. But if nothing else, he seemed happy and mellow these days. He was working a little, but not enough, he said. |
| 5102 |
And when she asked him about Alex, he was vague. He had his own questions about that, but he didn't share them with anyone. It was occurring to him increasingly that if he just allowed himself to marry her, he would never have to work again. And if he didn't, he would be hustling cameo roles forever. |
| 5103 |
For the moment, it still seemed like an unsolvable problem. And she had no idea what he was wrestling with, she thought their relationship was going fine, and it was for both of them. Except for Coop's bouts with his conscience. Much to his chagrin, it seemed to be growing like a benign tumor inside of him. |
| 5104 |
And his exchanges with Taryn only seemed to enhance it. They were both remarkable women, and they'd had a profound effect on him. More than he'd ever dreamed of or wanted. Life had been so simple before, without the burden of a conscience. And like it or not, the voices in his head seemed to be there to stay. |
| 5105 |
Understandably, it was a situation he detested. And it put a strain on them as well. She knew he was worried about the financial implications to him. There had been a recent case where a girl had gotten twenty thousand dollars a month in child support from a man she had been involved with for two months. |
| 5106 |
But the father of the baby in that case, as Alex pointed out to Coop reassuringly, was a major rock star with a humongous income. Coop was by no means in that situation. She was particularly aware of that now after talking to her father. Coop never talked about his debts, and he spent money with utter abandon. |
| 5107 |
But she knew that somewhere in the back of his mind, he had to be worried about how much he would have to give Charlene to support the baby, if it was his. The three of them went downstairs to the guest wing that night, promptly at seven. Taryn was wearing pale blue silk pajamas that were very flattering on her. |
| 5108 |
She'd had a busy day, and he and Taryn had had fun. There was none of the petulance in his voice that she'd noticed the night before. She told him she'd see him the following night when she got off duty at six o'clock. He had promised to take her to a movie she'd been dying to see, and she was looking forward to it. |
| 5109 |
Alex went to bed in her office shortly after that. She always slept in her scrubs when she was on duty. And her clogs were parked right next to her in case she had to hit the deck running. She never fell into a deep sleep when she was at work. She was always half listening for the phone, even in her sleep. |
| 5110 |
She explained the circumstances to him and said she didn't need more than half an hour, to get to trauma and check things out. He said it was no problem, and showed up, sleepy eyed, ten minutes later. By then she had called the trauma unit, and all they could tell her on the phone was that he was in critical condition. |
| 5111 |
They had intubated him, and he was hooked up to a dozen machines. His vitals were irregular, and his face was so cut and bruised, she could hardly recognize him. Her heart ached when she saw him. "How bad is the head injury?" she asked the chief resident when she saw him again, and he shook his head. |
| 5112 |
If he was an attempted suicide, they were going to have to watch him very closely when he came out of the coma. "You know this guy?" the attending had asked her, and she had said they were friends, and she told him about Maggie. He made a note of it on the chart, with a question mark in a red circle. |
| 5113 |
But she was more inured to medical scenes than they were. Taryn only lasted a minute or two, and then she left, with tears running down her cheeks. And Mark staunchly stood beside his friend, and talked to him, as Alex had suggested. But after a few minutes, he was so choked up, he had to stop talking. |
| 5114 |
He seemed to take it all in stride, and she thought he should be there with him, whether he hated hospitals or not. A man that they knew might be dying at any moment, and even with her medical background, she couldn't just ignore it. Maybe life and death were less impressive at his age, or more frightening. |
| 5115 |
Jimmy's mother was sitting calmly in the waiting room with them. She looked composed but sad, but she was in better shape than they were. It had been a long day for her too, with the shock of the news, and the long flight from Boston before she saw him. But she looked like a quiet, capable, unassuming woman. |
| 5116 |
She kept in very close contact with Jimmy and knew he hadn't seen any women since he lost Maggie. She had been afraid he never would. The two had been perfect for each other, and had an enviable marriage, just as she had. She'd been a widow for ten years and had long since given up meeting any man she cared about. |
| 5117 |
No one could replace him, and she had no desire to try. They sat and talked for a long time, and she asked Alex to go in with her the next time she saw Jimmy. She confessed that it made her feel braver, and afterwards they talked and she cried. She couldn't imagine what her life would be like if he left her. |
| 5118 |
She did volunteer work with the blind and the homeless in Boston. But Jimmy was her only child, and just knowing he was in the world somewhere, even if not at home, made life worth living for her. It was nearly ten when Alex talked one of the nurses into setting up a bed for Valerie in a back hallway. |
| 5119 |
It took her a long time, but as she drifted off to sleep, she realized that she wasn't angry at him, she was disappointed. For the first time, in the wake of Jimmy's accident, she had seen a side of Coop she didn't like. And she knew that no matter how much she loved him, she had lost respect for him. |
| 5120 |
No matter how natural his avoidant reaction was to him, he knew it wasn't the right thing, whether he admitted it or not. But what bothered Alex was how he could allow himself to avoid the situation entirely. As a result of his denial, he offered no one any support. And as a result, she felt cheated by him. |
| 5121 |
There was no change. And hope was beginning to dwindle. He had been in the coma for nearly forty eight hours. And with each passing day, the possibility of a full recovery would diminish. He had about another day to come around, maybe two, before his possibility for full recovery would be gone forever. |
| 5122 |
They both talked to him endlessly, as though he could hear them. And it seemed fitting that Valerie was standing near his head and talking to him, while Alex stood near his foot and saw a toe move. At first, she thought it was a reflex. And then the whole foot moved. Alex glanced at the monitor, and then the nurse. |
| 5123 |
She felt a powerful need to make excuses for him. She was willing to give him a break on this one. In fact, for her own sanity, she needed to. Love, in her eyes at least, was about compassion, compromise, and forgiveness. Coop's definition might have been a little different. It was about beauty, elegance, and romance. |
| 5124 |
About her parents, and the relationship she had wanted with them as a child, and never had, because both of them were incapable of it. Little by little, they fed each other their secrets and tested uncharted waters. They were entirely unaware of it, and had anyone asked, they would have insisted it was friendship. |
| 5125 |
She was highly suspicious of the label they put on it. The brew they were concocting was far more potent, whether or not they knew it. And she was happy for them. The only fly in the ointment, as far as she could see, was Coop. And that weekend, she got a look at the fly for herself. She hadn't met him until then. |
| 5126 |
No matter how youthful he looked, or how many young women he surrounded himself with, he knew the game was almost over. He was terrified, she realized. Of being sick, of being old, of losing his looks, of dying. His refusal to deal with Jimmy's accident in any form told her that. And so did his eyes. |
| 5127 |
And no matter how charming Coop was, she felt sorry for him. He was a man who was afraid to face his demons. The rest was just window dressing. But she knew Jimmy would never have understood it if she'd tried to explain it to him. And the nonsense about the girl having the baby was just food for his ego. |
| 5128 |
And at first glance, he appeared to be unimpressed by her. Valerie was by no means the profile of the women he courted. She was old enough to be their mother. What he did like, he told Alex later, as they lay in bed and rehashed the evening, was Valerie's graciousness, her style, her simple elegance. |
| 5129 |
Just as he felt youth was wasted on the young, money was wasted on the overly philanthropic. He thought money was meant to be spent and have a good time with. Alex hid hers, or ignored it. She needed lessons in how to spend it. Lessons he could easily have given her, but hesitated to for the moment. |
| 5130 |
Coop saw Valerie again the next day, at the pool. She was sitting in the shade of his favorite tree. She had taken the day off from visiting Jimmy, and was going to see him that evening. She lay on a chaise longue in a perfectly simple black bikini, and did herself credit wearing it. She had a very reasonable body. |
| 5131 |
He was obviously smitten with her, but it was hard to tell with Coop how much depth there was to anything. He kept everything in his life on the surface, particularly his emotions. But she could easily see him marrying her, even if for the wrong reasons, to prove something, or worse, to slide into the Madison money. |
| 5132 |
But it was obvious to him that Janet had really burned her bridges, or damaged them badly. And Adam hadn't helped her. He had been outspoken and overbearing with the kids, and made it obvious to them that he'd been involved with their mother before she left California. If nothing else, it was stupid of them. |
| 5133 |
And Jason agreed with her. Janet knew that she couldn't force them to do otherwise, but she told Mark that if she agreed, they had to set up a regular visiting schedule for them to come to New York for weekends, once a month, if not more often. He agreed, and promised to try to convince the children. |
| 5134 |
They thought it was a major victory that she had agreed to let them continue living with their father, and so did Mark. And they left for New York the following week, in much better spirits. They were going to be gone for four weeks, and as soon as they left, Taryn moved to the guest wing to stay with him. |
| 5135 |
That was a big bite for them to swallow. The time Mark and Taryn spent together while the children were gone only solidified their relationship, and strengthened their resolve to do something about it in the near future. Things were moving along at such a fast clip that Taryn spoke to her father about it. |
| 5136 |
He had lived in a different world all his life, which had centered around him, and spoiled him. It wasn't surprising that his character hadn't developed in some areas. It never had to. But in an odd way, Alex had forced him to look at things he never had before, and challenge his entire belief system and values. |
| 5137 |
She had her hair in a knot on top of her head, wore little or no makeup, as usual, and a plain black bathing suit, which showed off her youthful figure. There was no denying she was a good looking woman, beautiful even, he conceded. Just older than he liked them. And so far at least, he'd found her easy to talk to. |
| 5138 |
The only evidence to the contrary was the fact that Jimmy paid a stiff rent at the gatehouse, but Coop suspected he did so out of insurance money Maggie must have had, and that would run out sooner or later. Everything else he saw suggested that he, and his mother, lived on a shoestring. Albeit in her case, a silk one. |
| 5139 |
She was just old enough to be able to see things from his vantage point, but not so old she had lost her zest for life, or appreciation of having fun or being happy. Talking to her was comfortable for him, and she seemed surprisingly young to him, despite her wisdom. She was seventeen years younger than he was. |
| 5140 |
He was at loose ends, with Alex working, and he was lonely. It was difficult for him at times being faithful to one woman, who was so often busy. In the past, he had always dated several women, so he never had solitary nights as he did now. He would have been even lonelier without Taryn. She had been a godsend for him. |
| 5141 |
Nor would her father. Jimmy went to bed right after dinner, and after Valerie settled him, she came back and sat in the living room with Coop and they talked for hours. About Boston, and Europe, the films he'd made, the people he knew, and they were both surprised to discover they had a number of friends in common. |
| 5142 |
All she said was that her husband had been a banker, but she didn't elaborate on it, and Coop didn't ask her. He just enjoyed her company, and they were both startled to discover that it was two in the morning when he finally left her, and he was in excellent spirits. He had had a wonderful evening with her. |
| 5143 |
But after five months in the relationship with him, it seemed to be stalling. Coop lay in bed awake for a long time that night, thinking about things he and Valerie had said. He had a lot to think about, and decisions to make. He fell into a fitful sleep finally, dreaming about Charlene and the baby. |
| 5144 |
Alex had just worked three days straight when she came home exhausted one night. She'd been covering for two other people, and had had a string of emergencies, babies coding, mothers getting hysterical, a father who had threatened a doctor with a gun when his baby died unexpectedly, and was subsequently arrested. |
| 5145 |
She nodded, and walked out the front door. She felt as though her life as a fairy princess was over. She was being sent away from home, into the darkness and loneliness. It was impossible for her to understand why he had done it. She couldn't help wondering if there was someone else. And there was finally. |
| 5146 |
There was Coop. He had himself now. He had found the piece of him that had always been missing. It was the piece he had always been afraid to find. Alex drove up the driveway in tears, and as the gate opened, she knew without a doubt that she had just turned into a pumpkin. Or she felt that way anyway. |
| 5147 |
He called her every day until they took his casts off. And to celebrate, he took her out to dinner. His mother drove them, and she was relieved to see that Alex looked better than she had expected. It had been a hard blow, but maybe the right one in the long run. It was hard to say, but she hoped so. |
| 5148 |
But he could at least see people in his office. Valerie was going to drive him to work, and she was planning to stay with him until he was fully walking again, and able to drive. "I feel like a kid with my mother driving me everywhere, and taking me to the bathroom," he confessed to Alex with a rueful grin. |
| 5149 |
Coop was vindicated. Which left him footloose and fancy free, with his bills still to pay, and Alex still lonely for him. But he had made it clear again when he called that he wasn't coming back to her, not only for her sake, but for his. It no longer seemed right to him to be with a woman forty years younger than he. |
| 5150 |
But maybe it was enough. They were both good people, and they deserved the right person in their lives. Whether or not they proved to be the right ones remained to be seen, but it was a beginning at least. It was a promise to promise to try to promise to maybe if they were lucky fall in love with each other one day. |
| 5151 |
And for now, it was enough. Neither of them was ready for more. And when she drove him back to the gatehouse after dinner that night, they felt both comfortable and awkward, hopeful and scared. And when she helped him out and up the stairs, he turned to her with a smile, and then leaned down and kissed her. |
| 5152 |
He had never been attracted to a woman her age, or not in a long time. But he could see a lot of merit in it now. He had developed a strong distaste for women like Charlene, and he didn't want to hurt or disappoint anyone, as he had Alex. It was finally time to play with kids at least a little closer to his age. |
| 5153 |
He couldn't think of anything nicer than visiting her. It was easy for him too, knowing he wanted nothing from her, nor she from him. Whatever they gave each other, if they did, would be from the heart and nothing more. There were no motives to question, nothing to be gained. It was all very clean and very pure. |
| 5154 |
And it's not right for a girl your age to be with a man like me. You need a husband and babies, and a real life, maybe with someone from your own world, or someone who does the same kind of work you do. I think if we tried to make this work permanently, it would be a huge mistake. I'm so sorry if I hurt you, Alex. |
| 5155 |
I learned a lot from you, but that's a poor excuse to have done it at your expense. Maybe it wasn't about the money. But it just doesn't feel right. Maybe we both need people closer to our own age. I don't know why, but all my instincts tell me that we both need to walk away from this before we make a real mess of it. |
| 5156 |
But let's not go back and make a big mistake we'll both regret. I think we both need to go forward instead of back In light of the time they'd spent together and what she'd felt for him, she had hoped he would say something different to her, but she didn't disagree with him. She just didn't want to lose. |
| 5157 |
But she had thought about it a lot in the past weeks too, and her conclusions weren't very different than his. She missed him terribly, and she'd had a wonderful time with him, but something in her gut stopped her from trying to talk him into it, or even wanting to go back herself. But she had felt compelled to ask. |
| 5158 |
Coop had always been squeamish about it. And she had never really belonged in Coop's world. She had had fun being in it with him, but she had always felt like a visitor, a tourist, she couldn't really imagine living there for good. In fact, she had more in common with Jimmy than she'd ever had with Coop. |
| 5159 |
It all felt like destiny as he kissed her again, and then she slipped quietly into the gatehouse, thinking of him. Cooper Winslow was not who she'd expected, but she was glad he had come along. She didn't even feel like Cinderella with him. She felt like herself, but a woman falling in love with her best friend. |
| 5160 |
Valerie made one of her memorable pasta dinners the night before they left. Coop was flying with her to Boston, and then they were driving to the Cape. Alex hadn't come to dinner, she had to work anyway. But Valerie had gone to the hospital that afternoon to have lunch with her and say goodbye before she left. |
| 5161 |
The Westerfields made the Madisons look like paupers by comparison, but the difference was that Valerie was a grown up, and didn't have to answer to anyone. Somehow, the circumstances were such, now that his finances were in order, or about to be, that it didn't seem like such a shocking alliance after all. |
| 5162 |
But he already knew he loved the place. He had fallen in love with it when her mother had invited him there. It seemed to go on forever, with houses and boathouses and guest houses, and a barn full of antique cars he could have spent the entire weekend in. It was one of the most famous houses in the East. |
| 5163 |
He loved her elegance and her simplicity. It explained the distinction he had felt. She was an undeniable aristocrat even in white shirt and jeans. And suddenly he realized what it meant for Alex too. Jimmy was exactly the man she needed, he was part of her world, and at the same time, as much of a renegade as she. |
| 5164 |
They hadn't made it up, or invented it, or acquired it, or married it. They were born to it, so they could live any way they chose. Richly, or poorly, or quietly or noisily. It was entirely up to them. And Alex was cut from the same cloth. It meant nothing to her, and she liked living as though she were poor. |
| 5165 |
And he was likely to crumble first, because he was, after all, seventeen years older than she. She was in fact a younger woman, and a very wealthy woman. But not too young. And no matter how rich she was, he no longer cared, because he had money of his own. It had taken a Westerfield to bring him down, and capture him. |
| 5166 |
She told him some of the history he didn't know about the house. It fascinated him and he couldn't wait to see it again, and share it with her. As he remembered it, it was an elegant, charming, romantic old estate, with exquisite grounds. He rented a car at the Boston airport, and they drove slowly up the Cape. |
| 5167 |
They were there for three weeks, and he'd never been happier, although he'd never worked as hard in his life. But he loved doing it with her, and she worked as hard as he. She always had a hammer and nails in her pocket, and a swipe of paint somewhere on her face. He loved her and every minute that they shared. |
| 5168 |
It occurred to her, as it always did, that one of these days when she met with him, it would really be for the last time. He always said it was. She had begun to expect him to live forever, despite his protests, and in spite of the realities of time. Her law firm had handled his affairs for more than half a century. |
| 5169 |
She had been his estate and tax attorney for the past three years. At thirty eight, Sarah had been a partner of the firm for the past two years, and had inherited Stanley as a client when his previous attorney died. Stanley had outlived them all. He was ninety eight years old. It was hard to believe sometimes. |
| 5170 |
Stanley Perlman had been a genius in business all his life. The only thing that had changed over the years was that his body had betrayed him, but never once his mind. He was bedridden now, and had been for nearly seven years. Five nurses attended to him, three regularly in eight hour shifts, two as relief. |
| 5171 |
The sun was shining brightly as they climbed Nob Hill up California Street, and she knew it might be otherwise when they got uptown. The fog often sat heavily on the residential part of the city, even when it was warm and sunny downtown. Tourists were happily hanging off the cable car, smiling as they looked around. |
| 5172 |
He was always making minor additions and adjustments to his will. He had been prepared to die for all the years she had known him, and long before. But in spite of that, whenever he seemed to take a turn for the worse, or suffered from a brief illness, he always rallied and hung on, much to his chagrin. |
| 5173 |
He had been remarkably clever at finding jobs, making deals, working for the right people, seizing opportunities, and saving money. He had bought property, always in unusual circumstances, sometimes preying on others' misfortunes, he readily admitted, and making trades, and using whatever credit was available to him. |
| 5174 |
Most of his early money had been made in real estate development, trading one building for another, sometimes buying land no one else wanted, and biding his time to either sell it later or build office buildings or shopping centers on it. He had had the same intuitive knack later on, for investing in oil wells. |
| 5175 |
He had achieved his goal. He said he had been in love with two women in his younger days, but had never offered to marry either and had lost contact with both of them when they gave up on him and married other men, more than sixty years ago. The only thing he said he regretted was not having children. |
| 5176 |
She was the kind of granddaughter he would have liked to have. She was smart, funny, interesting, quick, beautiful, and good at what she did. Sometimes, when she brought papers to him, he loved to sit and look at her and talk to her for hours. He even held her hand, something he never did with his nurses. |
| 5177 |
She always knew her stuff about new tax laws. He loved the fact that she came up with new ideas about how to save him money. He had been wary of her at first, because of her youth, and then progressively came to trust her, in the course of her visits to his small musty room in the attic of the house on Scott Street. |
| 5178 |
Sarah glanced out the window of the cab as they passed Grace Cathedral, at the top of Nob Hill, and sat back against the seat, thinking about him. She wondered if he really was sick, and if it might be the last time. He had had pneumonia twice the previous spring and each time, miraculously, survived it. |
| 5179 |
Maybe now he wouldn't. His nurses were diligent in their care of him, but sooner or later, at his age, something was going to get him. It was inevitable, although Sarah dreaded it. She knew she'd miss him terribly when he was gone. Her long dark hair was pulled neatly back, her eyes were big and almost cornflower blue. |
| 5180 |
She was tall, thin, athletic looking, and had long legs that he always silently admired. She was wearing a neat navy blue suit, which was the kind of thing she always wore when she visited him. The only jewelry she wore was a pair of small diamond earrings that had been a Christmas gift from Stanley. |
| 5181 |
He had ordered them by phone for her himself from Neiman Marcus. He was not usually generous, he preferred to give his nurses money on holidays, but he had a soft spot for Sarah, just as she had for him. She had given him several cashmere throws to keep him warm. His house always seemed cold and damp. |
| 5182 |
Sarah had always been intrigued by the fact that he had never occupied the main part of the house, only the old servants' rooms in the attic. He said he had bought the place as an investment, had always meant to sell it, and never had. He had kept the house more out of laziness than any deep affection for it. |
| 5183 |
He had told her that the house had been stripped bare before he got it. The rooms were large and once elegant, there were curtains hanging in shreds at some of the windows. Others were boarded up, so the curious couldn't look in. And although she'd never seen it, Sarah had been told there was a ballroom. |
| 5184 |
She had never walked around the house, but came in straight from the service door, up the back stairs, to his attic bedroom. Her only purpose in coming here was to see Stanley. She had no reason to tour the house, except that she knew that one day, more than likely, after he was gone, she would have to sell it. |
| 5185 |
It was hard to believe he had lived in it for seventy six years and neither furnished it nor moved from the attic. But that was Stanley. Eccentric perhaps, unassuming, unpretentious, and a devoted and respected client. Sarah Anderson was his only friend. The rest of the world had forgotten he existed. |
| 5186 |
The front door hadn't been touched for years, and was kept locked and bolted. The lights in the main part of the house were never turned on. The only lights that had shone in the house for years were those in the attic. They cooked in a small kitchen on the same floor that had once served as a pantry. |
| 5187 |
Sometimes as late as midnight. He had no reason to rush home. Sarah followed the nurse up the stairs at a solemn pace, carrying her briefcase. The staircase was always dark, lit by a minimal supply of bare bulbs. This had been the staircase the servants had used in the house's long gone days of grandeur. |
| 5188 |
He looked worn and tired, and she was suddenly afraid that maybe this time he was right. He looked all of his ninety eight years now, and never had before. "Hello, Sarah," he said quietly, taking in the freshness of her youth and beauty. To him, thirty eight was like the first blush of her childhood. |
| 5189 |
He had scolded her soundly when she said that she wanted to do neither. The only sorrow of his life was not having children. He often told her not to make the same mistakes he had. Stock certificates, bonds, shopping centers, and oil wells were no substitute for children. He had learned that lesson too late. |
| 5190 |
She always wished that there were some way to get him out in the air, but other than occasional trips by ambulance to the hospital, he hadn't left the house in years. The attic of the house on Scott Street had become the womb where he was condemned to finish his days. "Sit down," he said to her finally. |
| 5191 |
She had sent several drafts over by messenger, for his approval. He had no fax machine or computer. Stanley liked to see original documents, and had no patience with modern inventions. He had never owned a cell phone and didn't need one. There was a small sitting room next to him set up for his nurses. |
| 5192 |
Farther down the hall, on the top floor, there were several more small maids' rooms, where the nurses could sleep, if they chose, when they went off duty, or rest, when there was another nurse around. None of them lived in, they just worked there in shifts. The only full time resident of the house was Stanley. |
| 5193 |
It was a very big pie, and each of them would get an impressive slice, far more than they knew. But he felt strongly about leaving what he had to relatives and not to charity. He had given his share to philanthropic organizations over the years, but he was a firm believer that blood was thicker than water. |
| 5194 |
She had admitted to him before that she dated someone, but had always said it wasn't serious or permanent, and it still wasn't. It had been a casual relationship for four years, which he had also told her was foolish. He had told her that you don't do "casual" for four years. Her mother told her the same thing. |
| 5195 |
She was sorry that he had no children, and had no relatives nearby, but living as long as he had, most people wound up alone. He had outlived everyone he had ever known. He might even have lost all his children by then, if he'd had any, and would have only had grandchildren or great grandchildren to comfort him. |
| 5196 |
The married people she knew didn't look all that happy to her, and if she ever married and it didn't work out, she didn't need an ex husband to hate and torment her. She knew too many of those, too. She was much happier like this, working, on her own, with a part time boyfriend who met her needs for the moment. |
| 5197 |
It made him feel young again, although he knew that in his youth he would have been too foolish and intent on his work to pay any attention to her, no matter how beautiful she was. The two women he had lost, due to his own stupidity at the time, he realized now, had been just as beautiful and sensual as she. |
| 5198 |
He had so little to live for, and he was so alone. His life was so confined by the tiny room he lived in, and the four walls of the cell where he was trapped for the remainder of his days. He had lived a good life, or at least a productive one, and the lives of his nineteen heirs would be forever changed when he died. |
| 5199 |
She tried not to think about the many warnings he gave her about her own life. She had years to think about babies and marriage. For now, she had a career that meant the world to her, and a desk full of work waiting for her at the office, although she appreciated his concern. She had exactly the life she wanted. |
| 5200 |
She had a stack of messages waiting on her desk, and she managed to return all but two of them before the meeting with her partners. She would return the other two, and whatever new ones she had, between client meetings later that afternoon. She had no time for lunch... any more than she did for babies or marriage. |
| 5201 |
She brought him a cheesecake and put a candle in it. She knew it was his favorite, and reminded him of his childhood in New York. For once, he didn't scold her about how hard she was working. They talked at length about a new tax law that was being proposed, which could prove advantageous to his estate. |
| 5202 |
She left him a stack of new books, some music to listen to, and a pair of black satin pajamas that seemed to amuse him. She'd never seen him in better spirits, which made the call she got two weeks later, on the first of November, more shocking somehow. It shouldn't have been. She had always known it would come. |
| 5203 |
After more than three years of doing legal work for him, and enjoying their resulting friendship, she really had begun to expect him to live forever. The nurse told her that Stanley had died peacefully in his sleep the night before, listening to the music she had given him and wearing the black satin pajamas. |
| 5204 |
He was always telling her not to work too hard, and to learn from his mistakes. No other man she knew had ever said that to her, and she knew how much she was going to miss him. But this was what they had prepared for, why she had come into his life, to plan his estate, and how it would be dispersed to his heirs. |
| 5205 |
There was only Sarah to make the arrangements. She made the appropriate phone calls after speaking to the nurse. She was surprised to see that her hand shook as she made the calls. He was to be cremated the next morning, and buried at Cypress Lawn, in a spot he had purchased in the mausoleum a dozen years before. |
| 5206 |
None of them lived in San Francisco, and wouldn't want a house there. There were a multitude of details to attend to. And she had been advised by the cemetery that Stanley would be interred at nine o'clock the next morning. She knew it would be several days, or longer, before she began hearing from his heirs. |
| 5207 |
By late afternoon, the head nurse had come to the office to bring all the nurses' keys to her. The cleaning woman who had come in for years, just to clean the attic rooms, was going to continue working. There was a service that came in once a month to clean the rest of the house, but nothing was changed for them. |
| 5208 |
He was a simple man with few needs and no luxuries, and he had been bedridden for years. Even the watch he wore was of no consequence. He had bought a gold watch once, and had long since given it away. All he had were properties and shopping malls, oil wells, investments, stocks, bonds, and the house on Scott Street. |
| 5209 |
Stanley Perlman had had an enormous fortune, and few things. And thanks to Sarah, his estate was totally in order at the time of his death, and long before. Sarah stayed at the office until nearly nine o'clock that night, poring over files, answering e mails, and filing things that had sat on her desk for days. |
| 5210 |
They rarely, if ever, saw each other during the week. He went to the gym every night after work. He was a labor attorney in a rival firm, specialized in discrimination cases, and his hours were as long as hers. He also had dinner with his children twice a week, since he didn't like seeing them on weekends. |
| 5211 |
She brought files home to work on, and worried about her clients, their tax problems and plans. Phil left his clients at the office, and their worries on his desk. Sarah carried them around with her. And her sadness over Stanley weighed heavily on her. There was no one to say anything to, no one to tell. |
| 5212 |
She felt bereft, just as she had when her father died, only this was worse. There was none of the shock she'd had then, and none of the relief. There was no real loss when her father died, except the loss of an idea. The idea of the father he'd never been. He had been the phantom father her mother had created for her. |
| 5213 |
At the time her father died, although they lived in the same house, Sarah hadn't really talked to him in years. She couldn't. He was always too drunk to talk or think, or go anywhere with her. He just came home from work and drank himself into a stupor, and eventually didn't even bother to go to work. |
| 5214 |
He died at forty six, of liver disease, and had been a total stranger to her. Stanley had been her friend. And in some strange way this was worse. With Stanley gone, there was actually someone to miss. She sat in her office and cried, finally, as she thought about it, and then she picked up her briefcase and left. |
| 5215 |
Sarah said she was addicted to twelve step groups. Her mother was always busy and spinning her wheels, but she seemed happy doing it. She had called Sarah to check in, and said she was on her way out for the evening. As she listened to the message, Sarah sat down on the couch, staring straight ahead. |
| 5216 |
She hadn't eaten dinner and didn't care. There was two day old pizza in the fridge, and she knew she could have made a salad if she wanted one, but she didn't. She didn't want anything tonight except the comfort of her bed. She needed time to grieve, before doing everything she had to do for Stanley. |
| 5217 |
She knew the next day she'd be fine, or thought she would, but right now she needed to let go. She stretched out on the couch and hit the remote for the TV. All she needed was sound, voices, something to fill the silence and the void she felt welling up in her. Her apartment was as empty as she was tonight. |
| 5218 |
Her mother nagged her constantly about it, and Sarah always fobbed her off, and said she liked it that way. She liked to say her apartment looked studious and intelligent. She didn't want fluffy curtains, or a bedspread with ruffles. She didn't need cute little cushions on the couch, or plates that matched. |
| 5219 |
There were two dead plants, and a fake silk ficus tree her mother had found somewhere, a tired looking beanbag seat Sarah had brought back from Harvard, and a small battered dining table with four unmatched chairs. She had venetian blinds instead of curtains, but they worked fine for her. Her bedroom looked no better. |
| 5220 |
There was an old rocking chair in the corner, with a handmade quilt thrown over it that she'd found in an antique store. She had a full length mirror with a small crack in it. Another dead plant sat on the windowsill, and the bedside table had another stack of law books on it, her favorite bedtime reading. |
| 5221 |
And she had to admit, now and then she enjoyed it, like tonight. She liked hearing the droning of the voices on some innocuous sitcom, and then her cell phone rang. She debated answering it, and then realized it might be Phil, returning her call. She picked it up, glanced at the caller ID, and saw that it was. |
| 5222 |
She knew if he said the wrong thing, it would upset her, but she had to take the chance. She needed some form of human contact tonight, to make up for Stanley's absence from now on. She turned down the volume on the TV with the remote in one hand, flipped open her cell phone with the other, and put it to her ear. |
| 5223 |
She missed him and would have loved him to come over. She wasn't sure what he'd say if she asked. Their long standing agreement, mostly unspoken, though occasionally put into words, was that they saw each other only on weekends, and alternated between her place and his, depending on whose was the bigger mess. |
| 5224 |
Usually it was his. So they stayed at hers, although he complained that her bed was too soft and hurt his back. He put up with it to be with her. It was only for two days a week, if that. "I had kind of a shit day," she said in a monotone, trying not to feel all she did, and have it make sense to him. |
| 5225 |
This guy wasn't your father. He was a client. I had kind of a shit day myself. I was in deposition all day, and my client in this case is a total asshole. I wanted to strangle the son of a bitch halfway through the deposition. I figured opposing counsel would do it for me, but he didn't. I wish to hell he had. |
| 5226 |
He had played ice hockey at Dartmouth, and had lost his front teeth, which had been beautifully replaced. He was a very handsome man. At forty two, he still looked thirty, and was in fantastic shape. Sarah had been bowled over by his looks the first time they met and, much as she hated to admit it, ever since. |
| 5227 |
She felt terrible about Stanley, no matter what his age when he died. He was still her friend, and not just her client, whatever Phil said and even if he was right about it being unprofessional. Phil never got emotionally involved with his clients, or anyone else, except her to some degree, and his three kids. |
| 5228 |
She had made her peace with it over the past four years. You could only get so much from him, and usually not by asking. Asking him for anything made him feel cornered, or controlled. As he said himself at every opportunity, he only did what he wanted. And tonight he didn't want to drop by to hug her. |
| 5229 |
Sometimes it was easy, sometimes it was hard. He said he never wanted to get married again, and had always been straightforward with her about it. She had told him just as honestly that marriage wasn't a priority for her, or even of interest to her, and Phil liked that about her a lot. She didn't think she wanted kids. |
| 5230 |
And he already had kids, and didn't want more. So it had been a good fit in the beginning. In fact for the first three years, it had suited them both to perfection. The shoe had only begun to pinch slightly for the last year, when Sarah mentioned that she'd like to see more of him, like maybe one weekday evening. |
| 5231 |
He said he needed weekday evenings to himself, except those he spent with his kids. After three years Sarah felt it was time to take a small step forward into more time together. Phil was adamant about it, Sarah had gotten nowhere on the subject for the past year, and they argued about it often now. |
| 5232 |
It was a sore subject for her. He didn't want to spend more time with her, and said the beauty of their relationship had always been mutual freedom, weekdays to themselves, companionship on weekends to the degree they wanted, and not having to make a serious commitment, since neither of them wanted to get married. |
| 5233 |
All he wanted was what they had. A great time in the sack on weekends, a body to cuddle up with two nights a week. He wasn't willing to give her more than that, and probably never would. They had been stuck on the same argument for the past year, and gotten nowhere with it, which had begun to seriously annoy her. |
| 5234 |
But by now, she had four years invested in the relationship, and she didn't have the time or energy to go out and audition anyone else. She knew what she had with Phil and was afraid she might find someone worse, or no one at all. She was nearly forty years old, and the men she knew liked younger women. |
| 5235 |
She worked a fifty or sixty hour week at least, in a high stress job, so when was she going to be dating to find someone else who might want more than just weekends? It was easier to stay with Phil, and live with his gaps and lapses. He was the devil she knew, and for now that was good enough. Maybe not great. |
| 5236 |
At first he had told her how devoted he was to his kids, that he coached Little League and went to all their games. She had realized eventually that he was just a sports fanatic, and gave up coaching because it ate up too much of his time. And he didn't see his kids on weekends, because he wanted the time to himself. |
| 5237 |
More than once, Sarah had felt he was transferring his anger at his ex wife onto her, for crimes Sarah had never committed. But someone had to be punished, not only for his ex wife's sins, but worse yet, for those of his mother, who had had the audacity to die and thus abandon him when he was three. |
| 5238 |
I love you, but don't ask me to give up the gym, or see you on a weekday night... or come by for a hug on a night we're not supposed to see each other, just because you're sad. There was a limited amount to what he had to give. He just didn't have it in his emotional piggy bank, no matter how hard she shook. |
| 5239 |
She let the secretary in the office know why she had come, and she was waiting in the mausoleum for the cemetery people to arrive with Stanley's ashes at nine o'clock. They placed the urn inside a small vault, and it took another half hour to seal it up with the small marble slab, while Sarah watched. |
| 5240 |
Maybe Phil was right, and she was being unprofessional. But whatever this was, it felt awful. She had work to do for him now, the work they had completed so carefully in the three years they had worked together, meticulously preparing his estate, and discussing tax laws. She had to wait to hear from his heirs. |
| 5241 |
But she wanted to at least get a current appraisal for the heirs before they turned up for the reading of the will. She called a realtor as soon as she got to her office. They made an appointment to meet at the house the following week. It was going to be the first time Sarah got a full tour of the house herself. |
| 5242 |
She had watched his interment as his friend. She had just hung up after talking to the realtor, when her secretary buzzed her and told her that her mother was on the line. Sarah hesitated for a moment, took a breath, and answered the call. She loved her mother, but not the way she never failed to invade her space. |
| 5243 |
She seemed to draw dysfunctional men to her like a magnet. And after she disposed of them, she then went back to hanging out with other women. She was in one of her celibate phases again, after a brief romance with an owner of a car dealership, who had turned out to be yet another alcoholic, or so she said. |
| 5244 |
The way she said it spoke volumes. She had pegged him correctly as a problem, right from the beginning. Audrey was the expert in screwed up men. She said it as though asking if Sarah was bringing a test tube of leprosy to their dinner. She asked the same question every year, which never failed to annoy Sarah. |
| 5245 |
After four years, she would have liked being invited on his vacations, but it was not part of the deal she had with him. She was strictly his weekend girlfriend. It was hard for her to admit, even to herself, that she had put up with it for that long. Four years had just slipped by, and nothing ever changed. |
| 5246 |
And if she did, and he walked out on her, then she would have no one to spend weekends with. The loneliness of that possibility didn't appeal to her, and she didn't want to replace him with book clubs, like her mother. It was a problem Sarah hadn't solved yet, and wasn't ready to face at the moment. |
| 5247 |
And denial. She had played that one for years herself. She was unnerved after she hung up the phone. It was hard putting her mother's pointed questions and criticisms out of her head. Her mother always wanted to strip away her defenses, and leave her standing there naked, while she looked over every pore. |
| 5248 |
In contrast, the conversation with Mimi was lively, loving, and brief. Her grandmother was a gem. After that, Sarah tied up the last loose ends on Stanley's estate, made a list of questions to ask the realtor, and made sure the letters had gone out to notify the heirs. Then she turned to her work for other clients. |
| 5249 |
It was nearly ten o'clock when she got home, and midnight when she heard from Phil. He sounded tired too and said he was going to bed. He said he hadn't gotten home from the gym till eleven thirty. It was strange knowing he was a few blocks away, yet acted as though he lived in another city five days a week. |
| 5250 |
She had nightmares about her mother that night, and woke up twice during the night, crying. She told herself she was just upset about Stanley, when she woke up the next morning, with a stomachache and a headache. It was nothing a cup of coffee, two aspirins, and a hard day at the office wouldn't fix. |
| 5251 |
Sarah's relationship with her grandmother had always been easy, accepting, and warm. She was an incredibly nice person, and Sarah had never met anyone who didn't love her, man, woman, or child. It was hard to believe that this gentle, happy human being had spawned a child who was as abrasive as Audrey. |
| 5252 |
Unlike Sarah's father, who had turned out to be a total lemon. Audrey had been sour, critical, and suspicious ever since. Sarah hated that about her, although she didn't entirely blame her. Sarah's father and his rampant alcoholism, and failure to be there for anyone, even himself, had damaged her as well. |
| 5253 |
Seeing Stanley's ashes sealed away in the mausoleum had been a huge emotional blow to her. It was so final, and so sad. A long life, but in many ways an empty one. He had left a fortune behind him, but very little else. And she couldn't help but remember now all his warnings about how she led her life as well. |
| 5254 |
They had begun to color how she viewed everything that week, even Phil's weekday unavailability to her. She was suddenly really tired of it, and having trouble buying the excuses he had given her for four years. Even if it wasn't right for him, and didn't fit into his program, she needed and wanted more. |
| 5255 |
His refusal to drop by to see her, and comfort her, the night Stanley died, had left a sour taste in her mouth. Even if they never planned to marry, four years together should have counted for something. An ability and desire to meet each other's needs and be there for each other in hard times, if nothing else. |
| 5256 |
Sometimes nine. He insisted that he needed at least two hours, sometimes three, at the gym, to unwind, and get over the stress of his daily work life. It also kept his body looking fantastic, which he was well aware of and wasn't lost on her, either. Sometimes it annoyed her. He was in much better shape than she was. |
| 5257 |
She looked great, but she wasn't as toned as he was with twenty hours spent at the gym every week. She didn't care as much about it, and she didn't have the time. He made time for himself, hours of it, every day. Something about it had always bothered her, but she had tried to be magnanimous about it. |
| 5258 |
He diligently maintained the status quo. They seemed to be frozen in time, and she felt like nothing more than a four year two night stand. She wasn't sure why, but just in the few days since Stanley's death, she was more acutely aware than ever before that maybe that just wasn't enough. She needed more. |
| 5259 |
And yet she still hung on. She watched her own feelings about him now, and her reactions to him, with dispassionate fascination, as though she were another person, a deus ex machina hanging somewhere off the ceiling, observing what was happening in the room, and commenting silently on it to herself. |
| 5260 |
But Phil worked hard too, and his area of law was admittedly more stressful than hers and he was frequently involved in litigation, which he enjoyed, but was far more anxiety causing than her endless hours of trying to ferret out new tax laws to assist her clients, or protect them from others that could hurt them. |
| 5261 |
It had cast a pall over everything she did all week. And in spite of her unspoken complaints and questions, or even doubts about him, she was happy to see Phil on Friday night. She always was. He was familiar, and seeing him on the weekend was an easy way to unwind, and sometimes they had a lot of fun. |
| 5262 |
He looked so beautiful and healthy and alive, lying on her couch, watching TV. He was nearly six foot four, his hair was sandy blond, and instead of blue like hers, his eyes were green. He was a beautiful example of the male species, with broad shoulders, a small waist, and legs that seemed endless. |
| 5263 |
He said that before he went back into the ring on Monday morning, he needed a night of undisturbed sleep, and she was too distracting. He meant it as a compliment, but it disappointed her anyway. She was always looking for ways to increase their time together, while he found better ones to keep it in check. |
| 5264 |
So far, he was winning. Or lately, maybe losing, in more important ways. His stubbornness about limiting their time together was beginning to turn her off, and made her feel unimportant to him. Although Sarah hated to admit it, maybe her mother was right. Maybe she needed more in her life than Phil would ever give her. |
| 5265 |
His older daughter was a powerhouse in tennis, and he enjoyed playing with her. But at fifteen, the last people she wanted to spend time with on weekends were her parents, so he was off the hook. And the youngest one had never been athletic. Sports seemed to be the only way Phil interacted with his children. |
| 5266 |
He would leave her early the next morning, after they woke up, and return in time for dinner. It was a game he had played often, first he told her he had nothing to do, then stayed busy from morning to night, doing things he said she didn't need to bother doing with him. He preferred doing his chores on his own. |
| 5267 |
She had machines in her building, though not in her apartment. They were no better or worse than the ones in his building, and they could watch a movie on TV together, or a video, while he did it. She didn't even mind doing his laundry for him. Sometimes she liked doing little domestic things like that for him. |
| 5268 |
This was the nice part about their weekends, not the errands she didn't get to do with him, but the affection he shared with her when he was with her. Despite the distance he kept between them much of the time, he was a surprisingly warm person. He was an interesting dichotomy, both independent and sometimes cozy. |
| 5269 |
She missed him during the week, so damned much. Things just got good between them on the weekends, and then on Sunday he was gone for five days. It made the contrast of his absence more acute. "I love you, too," she said, returning the kiss, and then stroking his silky blond hair, as she nestled against him. |
| 5270 |
Friday evenings always went by quickly. By the time they had dinner, unwound for a few hours, chatted about their weeks, or just sat quietly together, the evening was over. Half of their weekend was already gone before she had a chance to catch her breath, relax, and enjoy it. She could never believe how fast it went. |
| 5271 |
He had given it to her for Christmas their first year. It hadn't been a romantic gift, but it had served them well for the past four years. She only used it when he was there. The rest of the time, when she was running to work, she stopped at Starbucks and bought herself a cappuccino, which she took to work with her. |
| 5272 |
It would have been hard to give that up. There were lots of things about him she didn't want to lose: his companionship, his intelligence, the fact that he was a lawyer too and was usually interested in what she was doing, at least to some degree, although admittedly, tax law wasn't as exciting as what he did. |
| 5273 |
Lately, she had thought that she might like living with him one day, but there was no chance of that. He had told her right from the beginning that he was interested neither in cohabitation nor in marriage, only dating. And this was dating. It was more than enough for him, and had been for her for four years. |
| 5274 |
There was nothing she could do about it, given Phil's stubbornness on the subject and the firm boundaries he set. He had always been completely clear about the limits on the relationship he wanted. But doing the same old thing year after year made her feel like she was trapped in the twilight zone sometimes. |
| 5275 |
Always. He considered that a lesson in life, and justification for the way he treated people. The way he put it made it hard to argue with him, so she didn't. They were just different. She wondered sometimes if it was the basic difference between women and men, and not anything particularly deficient about him. |
| 5276 |
Single working people never did. Her only day to do errands was Saturday, which was why Phil was doing his. She would just have liked to do them together. He laughed at her when she said that, made light of it, and then reminded her that that was what married people did, single people didn't. And they weren't married. |
| 5277 |
They were single, he always said loud and clear. They did laundry separately, errands separately, had separate lives, apartments, and beds. They came together a couple of days a week to have fun, not to join their two lives into one. He said it to her often. She understood the difference. She just didn't like it. |
| 5278 |
She had decided to cook Phil dinner, and maybe after that they could rent a video or go to a movie. They didn't have much of a social life these days. Most of her friends were married and had children, and Phil found them incredibly boring. He liked her friends, but no longer liked their lifestyles. |
| 5279 |
The people they had met together in the beginning of their relationship were now all married. And he said he found it depressing to try and have an intelligent conversation, while listening to their toddler and brand new baby screaming either for their dinner or from earaches. He said he had done all that years before. |
| 5280 |
It was always so hurtful and disappointing when he did things like that. And Phil had absolutely no idea that she was upset, or why she would be. That was the core of the problem. Everything he had done that day seemed fine to him, including leaving Sarah out of his life, in spite of the fact that this was the weekend. |
| 5281 |
She had accepted it for four years, but now it infuriated her. His priorities were so insulting and hurt her feelings. And saying it to him, as she had tried to on occasion, made her sound like a bitch to him, or so he said. More than anything, he hated complaints, and wanted total freedom about how he spent his time. |
| 5282 |
He was almost positive that Sarah wasn't old enough to be sensitive about her age, or anyone else's. In fact, she was, and even more sensitive about how he had spent his day, without including her. She had spent her whole day alone, while he hung out in his apartment, and then played video games with his friend. |
| 5283 |
He didn't want to get it. She had fallen in love with the Ray Charles of relationships. The music was wonderful, and romantic at times, he just couldn't see a thing. Not about her point of view, at least. In order to end the argument before it got out of hand, she stood up and put the dishes in the sink. |
| 5284 |
By the time she came and sat next to him on the couch, half an hour later, she looked calmer again. She said nothing more about Dave, or his new Playboy bunny friend. She knew there was no point, but she was depressed about it anyway. Given Phil's attitude and defenses, she felt powerless to change it. |
| 5285 |
She felt as though she were trying to fit pieces together that showed trees, sky, half a cat, and part of a barn door. All together they didn't make a picture. She knew what the images were, but none of them was complete, and she didn't feel whole, either. She reminded herself that she didn't need a man to be complete. |
| 5286 |
She was tired of being the beggar in the relationship. If he didn't want to spend the day with her, she would find something to do by herself. She could always call a friend. She hadn't been hanging out with her old friends recently, because especially on weekends, they were busy with their husbands and kids. |
| 5287 |
Sundays had always been hard for her. They had always seemed like the loneliest day of the week. They were worse now. They always seemed acutely bittersweet after Phil left. The silence in her apartment after his departure depressed her no end. She could already tell that today would be no different. |
| 5288 |
She tried to at least feign good spirits, as they walked out of her apartment on the way to brunch. He was wearing a brown leather bomber jacket, jeans, and an immaculate, perfectly pressed blue shirt. He kept just enough of his things at her place so that he could spend the weekend with her, and be decently dressed. |
| 5289 |
In spite of herself, Sarah had a good time with him at brunch. He told her funny stories, and a couple of really outrageous jokes. He did an imitation of someone in his office, and even though it was stupid and meant nothing, he made her laugh. She was sorry that he wouldn't go with her to see Stanley's house. |
| 5290 |
She didn't want to go there alone, so she decided to wait until she met with the realtor on Monday morning. Phil was in good spirits, and ate an enormous brunch. Sarah had cappuccino and toast. She could never eat when he was about to leave. Even though it was a weekly occurrence, it never failed to make her sad. |
| 5291 |
But Sunday mornings were always too short. This one was going to be no different. Just another lonely, depressing day after he left. It was the price she was paying for not being married or having kids, or being in a more committed relationship. Other people always seemed to have someone to spend Sundays with. |
| 5292 |
She preferred to be alone. She just wished she could have spent the day with Phil. She had gotten good at concealing all she felt when he left on Sunday mornings. She managed to look cheerful, and even amused sometimes, when he kissed her lightly on the mouth, dropped her off at her place, and drove home. |
| 5293 |
She said she wanted to walk down Union Street and check out the shops. What she didn't want was to go home to her empty apartment. She waved gamely, as she always did, when he drove away, back to his own life. End of weekend. She walked down to the marina eventually, sat on a bench, and watched people flying kites. |
| 5294 |
She didn't bother to make the bed when she got back. She didn't eat dinner that night, and then finally, she made herself a salad, and took some files out of her briefcase. They were Stanley Perlman's files, and the one thing she was excited about was seeing his house. She had a million fantasies about it. |
| 5295 |
She wished she knew its history. She was going to ask the realtor to research it for her before they put it on the market. But first she wanted to see the house. She had a feeling it was going to be remarkable. She thought of it again as she lay in bed that night. She was almost asleep when her phone rang. |
| 5296 |
He was sweet, even though he disappointed her at times. Maybe all men did, and it was just the nature of relationships, she told herself. She was never sure. This was the longest relationship she had ever had. She had always been too busy before that with school and work to commit herself fully to a man. |
| 5297 |
She lay in bed thinking about him after they hung up. He had gotten his wish. She was thinking about him, and not Stanley's house. As she lay there, her eyes drifted closed, and the next thing she knew, the alarm had gone off and the sun was streaming in her windows. It was Monday morning, and she had to get up. |
| 5298 |
Sarah had told the nurse to remove the chain closing it before she left, so that she could bring the realtor in through the front door. The door opened and revealed a yawning darkness. Sarah walked in first, and looked around for a switch to turn on the lights. As she stepped inside, the realtor followed. |
| 5299 |
The realtor opened the door wider behind them, so the sunlight could enter the house and light their path, and then they both saw the light switch. The house was eighty three years old, and neither of them had any idea if the switch would still work. There were two buttons in the marble entranceway where they stood. |
| 5300 |
And in each there was a spectacular chandelier. The house had been stripped before Stanley bought it, but he had mentioned to Sarah once that the previous owners had left all the original sconces and chandeliers. They both saw then, too, that there were also antique marble fireplaces in each of the rooms. |
| 5301 |
It swept grandly toward the upper floors, and it was easy to envision men in top hats and tailcoats and women in evening gowns walking up and down those stairs. Overhead was a chandelier of incredibly vast scale. They both stepped gingerly away from it, each of them with the same thought at the same time. |
| 5302 |
Sarah was suddenly terrified that it might come crashing down. And as they stepped away from it, they saw an immense drawing room beyond, with curtains covering the windows. Marjorie and Sarah both walked toward them, to see if they were boarded up. The heavy curtains shredded in their hands as they pushed them aside. |
| 5303 |
People no longer had dozens of servants to run food and trays up and down the stairs. There was a row of dumbwaiters, and when Sarah opened one of them to inspect it, one of the ropes broke in her hands. There was no sign of rodents or damage in the house. Things had not been chewed, nothing was damp or mildewed. |
| 5304 |
The back stairs area for the huge staff of domestics they must have had was vast. By then, they were ready to move upstairs. Sarah knew there was an elevator in the house, but Stanley had never used it. It had long since been sealed off, as even he acknowledged that it would be far too dangerous for current use. |
| 5305 |
On the second floor, they found two more splendid living rooms, a day parlor facing the garden, a card room, a conservatory, where the grand piano had once been, and finally the ballroom they had both heard about. It was in fact an exact replica of the Hall of Mirrors in Versailles, and utterly beyond belief. |
| 5306 |
But grandeur on that scale, and elegance of the kind they were seeing, had clearly not been his thing. Only money was, which suddenly struck her as sad. She finally understood now what he had been saying to her. Stanley Perlman had not wasted his life, but in so many important ways, it had passed him by. |
| 5307 |
He had never loved it or enjoyed it, or allowed himself to expand into a bigger life. The maid's room where he had spent three quarters of a century was the symbol of his life, and everything he'd never had, neither companionship, nor beauty, nor love. Thinking about it made Sarah sad. She understood it better now. |
| 5308 |
Sarah thought they were locked at first. She and Marjorie pulled and tugged and nearly gave up, when they suddenly sprang open, and revealed a suite of rooms so beautiful and welcoming, they had obviously been the master suite. Here the walls were painted a faded, barely discernible pale powder pink. |
| 5309 |
There was a sitting room, a series of dressing rooms, and two extraordinary marble bathrooms, each one larger than Sarah's apartment, that had obviously been built for Lilli and Alexandre. The fixtures were exquisite, the floor in hers pink marble, and in his beige marble, of a quality worthy of the Uffizi in Florence. |
| 5310 |
She didn't want to see the room where Stanley had lived. Sarah knew it would make her too sad. All that had mattered to her, of him, was in her heart and her head. She didn't need to see his room, or the bed where he had died, and never wanted to again. What she had loved of him, she had taken with her. |
| 5311 |
Sarah knew she had chosen the right woman to sell Stanley's house. Marjorie took out a small sketch pad in the master suite, and worked quickly, walking off distances and making notes to herself, as Sarah looked at the bathrooms again, and wandered through the dressing rooms, opening a multitude of closets. |
| 5312 |
In all her years of visiting Stanley there, she had never thought about the previous owners much before. Stanley never said anything about them, and seemed to have no interest in them himself. He had never even mentioned them to her by name. Suddenly the name de Beaumont seemed all important to her. |
| 5313 |
She must have heard about them at some point. They had been an important family in the city's history at one time. She knew she had heard the name before, although she no longer remembered where, or in what context. Maybe during some field trip she had participated in as a child at school, visiting a museum. |
| 5314 |
As Sarah glanced into the darker recesses of the closet, as though expecting to find one there, something on the floor of the closet caught her eye. She used the flashlight Marjorie had given her and saw that it was a photograph. She got down on all fours and reached for it. It was covered with dust and very brittle. |
| 5315 |
Had someone dropped it when they stripped the house, and he sold it to Stanley? The oddest thing about it was that Sarah had the overwhelming feeling that she had seen the photograph somewhere before, but she couldn't remember where she'd seen it. Maybe in a book or a magazine. Or maybe she had imagined it. |
| 5316 |
It will cost a fortune to restore and furnish it, and it would take an army of people to run it. No one lives like that anymore. The neighborhood isn't zoned for a hotel, or a bed and breakfast. No one will buy it as a school. Consulates are closing their residences, and renting apartments for their staff. |
| 5317 |
But if no one wants to deal with something like this, the heirs may be lucky to get three, or even two. It could sit here, unsold, for years. It's impossible to predict. How anxious are they to sell it? They may want to price it for a quick low ball sale, and get rid of it as is. I just hope the right person buys it. |
| 5318 |
But that won't bring the electricity back to life, or the plumbing. Someone will have to build a new kitchen, probably in those main floor pantries. It'll need a new elevator. There's some real work to do, and that costs money. I don't know how much they'll want to invest in selling it. Maybe nothing. |
| 5319 |
Most buyers will be scared to death of a house like this, and the problems they'll find once they start the project. The exterior looks good to me, which is good news, although some of the windows need replacing. Dry rot, that's pretty common, even in a new house. I had to replace ten windows in my own house last year. |
| 5320 |
He sounded stressed out of his mind, and ready to kill his client. It was another one of those weeks. "I've had the most incredible morning," she said, still excited about it, and on a high from all they'd seen. Whatever the heirs decided to do with the house, Sarah was grateful to have seen it first. |
| 5321 |
The money Stanley had left had come in the nick of time for all of them. She said she had never even heard of Stanley, or a cousin of her father's in California. Sarah promised to send her a copy of the portions of the will that applied to her, after the official reading, assuming there would be one. |
| 5322 |
He sounded vaguely embarrassed about it, and given his position as a bank president, Sarah had the feeling he didn't need the money. The second heir who hadn't responded to her said he was ninety five years old, and hadn't answered her because he thought it was some sort of joke someone had played on him. |
| 5323 |
He told Sarah he had assumed he had died by then. She promised to send him a copy of the will, too. She knew she would have to be contacting him again to ask how he wished to dispose of the house. By late Thursday afternoon, the reading of the will had been set for the following Monday morning, in her office. |
| 5324 |
He had clearly been the black sheep of his family, whose fleece had become white as snow, as a result of the fortune he had left them. She was unable to tell any of them how large an amount it was, but she assured them it was a sizable sum. They would have to wait to hear the rest on Monday morning. |
| 5325 |
Her last call of the day was from Marjorie, the realtor, who asked if Sarah would mind meeting the two restoration architects with her at the house the following day. She said it was the only day and time they could make it. They were leaving for Venice that weekend, to attend a conference of restoration architects. |
| 5326 |
It would give her time to unwind and relax, before Phil showed up several hours later, after the gym. She had hardly spoken to him all week. They had both been busy. And he had been in a rotten mood every time she spoke to him. Opposing counsel had made mincemeat of him and his client in the depositions. |
| 5327 |
It wasn't pretty. And she at least wanted to spend a decent weekend with him. For the moment, she wasn't optimistic. Marjorie and the two architects were waiting for her at the house when Sarah showed up promptly at three o'clock on Friday. Marjorie said they had been early, and not to worry about it. |
| 5328 |
There was nothing exciting about him. He wasn't excessively handsome, and he looked competent, interested, and easy going. She liked his smile, which seemed to light up his face and improve his looks. He had a nice personality, one could tell instantly, and she could see why Marjorie liked working with him. |
| 5329 |
His partner, on the other hand, was exactly the opposite of everything he was. Where he was noticeably tall, at least as tall as Phil, if not taller, Sarah noticed, she was tiny. His hair was dark and subdued, hers was bright red, her eyes were green, and she had creamy skin with a smattering of freckles. |
| 5330 |
Sarah wondered if it was because she knew they were unlikely to be asked to do the work. They were there only for a consultation. Marjorie had warned them that the house was more than likely going to be sold in its existing condition. Which meant to Marie Louise that they were wasting their time at the meeting. |
| 5331 |
The female partner of the team looked like a huge pain in the neck to her. And even without subtitles, she sounded like a bitch. Marjorie didn't like her much either, she admitted to Sarah sotto voce when they reached the master suite, but she said they both did great work, and were an excellent team. |
| 5332 |
It was a lot of work, but certainly not impossible. And he added that he loved this kind of challenge. Marie Louise didn't comment, or say a word. Jeff said that putting in a kitchen wasn't a monumental task, and he agreed with Sarah and Marjorie about the location of a new kitchen on the main floor. |
| 5333 |
The elevator could be given modern workings, while preserving its original look. And the rest he thought should remain as it was. Craftsmen should be brought in to restore the wood, treat it, and oil it. The boiseries had to be handled with great care and precision. Everything else needed paint or varnish or polishing. |
| 5334 |
The chandeliers were perfect and could be made to work again. There were a lot of details that could be played with and highlighted. Hidden lighting could be installed. It all depended on how much work and money a new owner wanted to put into it. The exterior was in good shape, and the house was well built. |
| 5335 |
Sarah wanted to get as much information as she could for his heirs, and be realistic about it, although she doubted they'd want to do the work. They would get a much better price for the house ultimately if they made some modern improvements, but she also knew that they probably wouldn't want to be bothered. |
| 5336 |
She definitely had not made a commitment to life in San Francisco, and made it sound as though she was still planning to go back. Jeff didn't look worried. He probably knew they were empty threats. Although Sarah thought it was interesting that after fourteen years together, they still weren't married. |
| 5337 |
Every now and then she gets fed up, and goes back to France. She left him for a year once, while he was working on a big project I referred to him. But she always comes back, and he takes her back when she does. I guess he's crazy about her, and she knows she's got a good thing. He's solid as a rock. |
| 5338 |
They weren't likely to want to spend a million dollars to restore Stanley's house, or even half that, and then wait six months or a year to sell it. She was sure that on Monday she'd be telling Marjorie to put it on the market as is. Sarah said good bye to her, and drove home, to get ready for Phil. |
| 5339 |
He always made it up to her when he let her down in some way, which made it hard to stay angry at him. It was why she had never walked away, so far. He reeled her in, and out. She had told him about her visit to Stanley's house, over dinner at the new restaurant, but it was obvious he wasn't interested in it. |
| 5340 |
Phil had an incredible knack for salvaging things, calming her down, and keeping her in it, just as he had for four years. It was an art. She was in good spirits when she went to work on Monday, and excited about meeting Stanley's heirs. Five had been unable to leave their jobs and lives in other cities. |
| 5341 |
She had asked her secretary to set up the conference room for them, with coffee and Danish pastries. She knew that what was coming to them was going to be a big surprise for them. A few of them were already waiting in the hallway when she reached her office. She set down her briefcase and went out to meet them. |
| 5342 |
He had already told her he was widowed, and had four grown children, and she had gathered in the conversation that one of them had special needs. Perhaps, although he had money, the bequest from Stanley would be of some use to him. It was nearly ten o'clock when the last of the heirs finally drifted in. |
| 5343 |
The man from Texas was wearing a cowboy hat and boots that looked well broken in. He was the foreman of a ranch he had worked on for thirty years, lived in a trailer, and had six kids. His wife had died the previous spring. The cousins were enjoying talking to each other, as Sarah made her way through the group. |
| 5344 |
She had explored the options for them, and had them carefully outlined on a single sheet, with the appraisal from Marjorie, which was more of a guesstimate, since nothing even remotely comparable to it had been sold for years, or existed anymore, and the condition it was in affected the price they could ask for it. |
| 5345 |
The heirs were looking at her with open expectation. She was glad that they had been respectful enough to come in person, and didn't just tell her to send the money. She had the feeling that Stanley would have enjoyed meeting all or most of them. She knew two of the women were secretaries and had never been married. |
| 5346 |
The others had made an effort to leave their jobs, and pay their way to come to San Francisco. For the most part, they looked as though the windfall they were about to receive would leave their lives forever changed. Sarah knew better than anyone that the size of that windfall was going to amaze them. |
| 5347 |
I know it took some real effort for some of you to be here. I know it would have meant a lot to Stanley that you came here today. I'm sad for all of you that you didn't know him. He was a remarkable man, and a wonderful person. In the years we worked together, I came to admire and respect him a great deal. |
| 5348 |
She opened the file in front of her and took out the will. She sped through most of the boilerplate, explaining to them what it meant as she went along. Most of it related to taxes, and how they had protected his estate. He had set aside more than enough money to pay the taxes when it went through probate. |
| 5349 |
And then she reached the list of bequests, which were in nineteen equal shares. She listed their names alphabetically, including those who were not present. She had a copy of the will for each of them, so they could study it later, or have it examined by their own attorneys. Everything was in order. |
| 5350 |
But based on what we already have, and some fairly close assessments, your great uncle's estate is currently valued, after taxes, which have been handled separately, at just over four hundred million dollars. In our estimation, that will give each of you a bequest of approximately twenty million dollars, give or take. |
| 5351 |
Some of them looked embarrassed, especially those who'd never heard his name. This was like winning the lottery, only better in some ways, because someone they didn't even know had remembered them, and meant for them to have it. Although he had no family of his own, those he was related to meant everything to Stanley. |
| 5352 |
In his mind, they were the children he had never had. It was his one moment, after death, to be their loving father, and benefactor. Sarah was honored to be part of it, and only wished he could have seen it. The cowboy was wiping his eyes, then blew his nose and said he was going to buy the ranch, or start his own. |
| 5353 |
Now maybe he had a chance. They all did. Stanley had given them that. It was his posthumous gift to all of them, even those who hadn't shown up. He cared about them all equally. Sarah was nearly in tears herself. It might have been unprofessional of her, but it was an unforgettable experience, sharing this with them. |
| 5354 |
It will be simpler for you if you sell the joint holdings, where reasonable to do so, and divide up the profits, depending on what our financial advisers recommend to you. In some cases, this may not be the right time to sell them. But if that's what you decide, we'll wait for the right time to sell, and advise you. |
| 5355 |
But she also explained to them that the individual portion of their bequests was in the vicinity of seven or eight million dollars each. The rest would come to them later after the joint assets were disposed of. Stanley had tried to keep it as clean as possible for them, without hindering his investments. |
| 5356 |
It's a remarkable place, and I think you should see it. It was built in the twenties, and unfortunately, it hasn't been remodeled, renovated, or modernized since. It's almost like a museum. Your great uncle lived in a small portion of the house, the attic actually. He never occupied the main portion of the house. |
| 5357 |
There's a broad range of possibilities of what that work would entail. You could spend as little as five hundred thousand dollars to clean it up, make it livable, and bring it up to code, or ten times that if you really want to do it up and make a showplace of it. The same is true of selling the house. |
| 5358 |
My recommendation to you would be to sell it. Maybe clean it up, take the boards off the windows, polish up the floors, and maybe put a coat of paint on the walls, but put it on the market essentially as is, without undertaking the more costly work of electricity and plumbing and renovation according to current code. |
| 5359 |
The others all had flights back to their own cities early that afternoon, and they unanimously told Sarah to put the house on the market, and sell it as it was. Their bequests from Stanley were so large, and so exciting to them, that the sale of the house and what they got seemed to make little difference to them. |
| 5360 |
Even if they got two million for it, it would only give them an additional hundred thousand dollars each. And after taxes, even less. To them now, it was a pittance. An hour before it would have been a windfall. Now it meant nothing to them. It was amazing how life could change in a single unexpected moment. |
| 5361 |
She smiled as she looked around the table. They all looked like decent people, and she had the feeling Stanley would have liked them. Those who had come looked like wholesome, nice individuals, whom he would have enjoyed being related to. And they were certainly ecstatic over having been related to him. |
| 5362 |
My associate gave it to me this morning. I'm told Stanley wanted it read, after the reading of the will, which we've done now. I received it sealed myself, and have no idea what it contains. I've been assured that nothing in its contents alters the will in any way. With your permission, I'll read it now. |
| 5363 |
It had been a thrill for her just announcing the gift to them. She was only the messenger, but even that had been a joy for her. She would like to have had some small sentimental token from him for herself, but there were none to have. All he had were books, and the clothes they had given to Goodwill. |
| 5364 |
And nineteen strangers to leave it to. It was a big statement about his life, and who he had been. But he had been important to her, as much as he now was to them. In his final years, Sarah was, in fact, the only person he had loved. And she had loved him. Sarah cleared her throat again, and began reading the letter. |
| 5365 |
She was surprised to notice that she held it in trembling hands. There was something deeply moving about seeing his tremulous handwriting stretched out across the pages, and as he had promised her, there was a line at the bottom, ratifying his current will and witnessed by two of his nurses. Everything was in order. |
| 5366 |
It was like his last whisper from the grave, a final farewell to all of them. She would never see that handwriting, or hear his voice again. The thought of that brought tears to her eyes, as she fought to keep her voice steady. In some ways, he had meant more to her, as a friend and client, than he had to any of them. |
| 5367 |
Make your lives better because of it. Share it with your children. If you don't have children, have some, soon. They will be the best gift you ever had. This is my gift to you. Maybe it's time for you to enjoy new lives, or new opportunities, new worlds you wanted to discover, and can now, before it's too late. |
| 5368 |
The gift I want to leave with you is one of options and opportunity, of a better life for you, and those who are important to you, not just money. In the end, the money means nothing. Except for the joy it gives you, what you do with it, and the lives you touch, the difference you make to the people you love. |
| 5369 |
Do something important with it. Something that matters to you. Give yourselves better lives, give up jobs you hate, or that stifle you. Let yourselves grow and feel free with the gift I am leaving you. My wish for you is happiness, whatever that means to you. For me, happiness was building a fortune. |
| 5370 |
No one deserves it more than you. No one deserves a good life more than you, even a great life. I want you to have that, and if my relatives give you a hard time about it, I'm going to come back from the grave and kick their asses. I want you to enjoy the gift I am leaving you, and do something wonderful with it. |
| 5371 |
Being of sound mind, and completely deteriorating body, dammit, I hereby bequeath to you, Sarah Marie Anderson, the sum of seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I thought a million would make you nervous, and might piss them off, and half a million didn't seem like enough to me, so I compromised. |
| 5372 |
Above all, darling Sarah, have a wonderful happy life, and know that I will be watching over you, with love and thanks, always. And to all of you, you have my best wishes and my love, along with the money I have left you. Be well, go well, and may your days be happy and worthwhile, and filled with people you love. |
| 5373 |
It was his last good bye to her and to all of them. There were tears rolling down her cheeks, as she set the letter down, and looked at the others. She spoke to them in a hoarse voice, filled with emotion. She had never, ever expected to receive anything from him, and wasn't even sure she should now. |
| 5374 |
Sarah was so moved, she was almost sobbing. The best part was that he had said he loved her. Although he was almost a hundred years old in the years she knew him, he had been the father she'd never had, the man she had respected most in her life, in fact the only one. Good men had not been abundant in her life. |
| 5375 |
It had been an overwhelming morning. The receptionist called cabs for all of them, to get to the airport. Sarah's secretary handed each of them a manila envelope, with a copy of the will and whatever additional documents there were, about their investments. Their last word on the house was to sell it as it was. |
| 5376 |
They instructed Sarah to put it on the market immediately, and get whatever she could for it. Tom Harrison had agreed to see it with her only to be polite, but she could tell, he wasn't interested in it, either. No one was. It was a white elephant in another city, which none of them wanted or needed. |
| 5377 |
The decision to sell it had been theirs. She left Tom Harrison in the conference room, and called Marjorie from her office. She told her their decision, and asked if she would mind meeting her at the house in half an hour, to show it to one of the heirs. But she said it was purely a visit of formality. |
| 5378 |
It was beyond amazing. It was breathtaking. Stunning. With what she had saved herself over the years of her partnership in the law firm, she now had well over a million dollars, and felt like a rich woman. Although she was determined not to let it change her attitudes or her life, despite Stanley's warnings. |
| 5379 |
She drove him there herself. Marjorie was waiting for them. And Tom Harrison was as impressed with the house as they all had been. Once he saw it, though, he was glad they had collectively decided to sell it. It was a remarkable and venerable piece of history, but utterly unlivable, in his opinion, in today's world. |
| 5380 |
Sometimes a house she thought she could never sell went five minutes after she put it on the market, and the ones she swore would be gone instantly and sell for their full asking price, didn't. There was no predicting taste or sometimes even value in the real estate market. It was all very personal and quixotic. |
| 5381 |
I'll have a broker's open house the Tuesday after Thanksgiving. It can go on the market officially the day after. Someone will probably buy it, and hope to win a battle with the city to change the zoning. It would make a gorgeous little hotel, if the neighbors will put up with it, though I doubt it. |
| 5382 |
Stanley was gone, and would live forever in her heart. It was hard to realize that suddenly her circumstances had changed, dramatically in fact. She had far less to adjust to than the others did, but it had been a huge windfall for her. She decided not to tell anyone for the moment, not even her mother or Phil. |
| 5383 |
She needed to get used to the idea herself. She and Marjorie discussed plans about the janitorial service, and the broker's open house. She signed a release confirming the asking price, on behalf of the heirs. They had signed a power of attorney at her office, allowing her to sell the house and negotiate for them. |
| 5384 |
Shit, not just lucky, she had suddenly become a rich girl. She felt like an heiress as she drove downtown. And then he startled her, as he sometimes did. "I have bad news for you, babe," he said, as she felt the usual drag of an anchor on her heart. Bad news, with him, usually meant less time he could spend with her. |
| 5385 |
She would be at her grand mother's house for a few hours, as she always was, and then she would have three lonely days over the weekend without him. And of course he wouldn't compensate for it by seeing more of her the following week. She'd have to wait a whole week, till the next weekend, to see him. |
| 5386 |
Phil was as unattainable as ever, except on his terms. He was emotionally and physically unavailable to her, except when he chose to be otherwise. And on holidays, he didn't. As far as he was concerned, holidays belonged to him and his kids, and he expected her to fend for herself. That was their deal. |
| 5387 |
She could always figure out in the flicker of an eye how long it had been since she'd last seen him, and before she'd be seeing him again. This time it would be two weeks and five days. It felt like an eternity to her. It wouldn't have been as bad if they could see each other over the Thanksgiving weekend. |
| 5388 |
She was everyone's ideal grandmother, and nearly every man's ideal woman. At eighty two, she was lively, happy, had a great attitude about life, and never dwelled on anything unpleasant. Her outlook was always positive, and she was interested and open to new people. She exuded happiness and sunshine. |
| 5389 |
Sarah smiled to herself, thinking about her, on the way to her grand mother's house, on Thanksgiving afternoon. She had heard from Phil the night before, when he breezed through town on the way to pick up his kids. He had gotten back from New York late the night before but hadn't had time to see her. |
| 5390 |
It just reminded her of everything they didn't share and never would. When Sarah got to her grandmother's house, Mimi's two women friends were already there, both women older than she, and both widowed. They looked like little old ladies, but Mimi didn't. Mimi had snow white hair, big blue eyes, and perfect skin. |
| 5391 |
They hadn't had a huge fortune when Sarah's grandfather was alive, but they were comfortable, and she had always been well dressed and stylish. They had made a handsome couple for more than fifty years. She rarely, if ever, spoke of her childhood. She liked to say that she'd been born on her wedding day to Leland. |
| 5392 |
She didn't even know where her grandmother had gone to school, or what her maiden name had been. They were things Mimi simply didn't talk about. She never dwelled on the past, she lived in the present and the future, which made her so appealing to everyone who knew her. There was nothing depressing about her. |
| 5393 |
She was a happy woman through and through. Her current favorite beau was in the living room when Sarah walked in. He was a few years older than her grandmother, had been a stockbroker, and played eighteen holes of golf every day. He had children he got along well with and enjoyed, and he liked to dance as much as Mimi. |
| 5394 |
She was busy with the turkey, which she was afraid would be too dry. Half an hour later they were seated at Mimi's dining table, in the small, elegant dining room Audrey had decorated for her. The vegetables were all on the table in serving bowls, and George had carved the turkey. Everything looked perfect. |
| 5395 |
There was another of Audrey on her wedding day. And one at the back, of Mimi on her wedding day during the war, in a white satin gown with a tiny waist and enormous shoulders. She managed to look both demure and stylish, and then another photograph caught her eye, of another young woman in an evening gown. |
| 5396 |
The house that Stanley had lived in for seventy six years, and that she was selling now for his estate, had been built by her great grandfather for her great grandmother. She had been in it dozens of times over the years to visit Stanley, and she had never suspected that it had a deep connection to her. |
| 5397 |
They met at a diplomatic party and fell in love. Several years after my father died, I learned that she had died of pneumonia or tuberculosis during the war. I never saw her again after she left us, and my father would never speak of her to me. As a child I never knew why she disappeared, or what happened. |
| 5398 |
They would have had to give up the house anyway, and I think they were selling things already then. After that, my father worked in a bank, and became a recluse for the rest of his life. I don't remember him ever going out socially, until he died fifteen years later. He died right after I got married. |
| 5399 |
She put her arms around Mimi and gave her a hug. She couldn't even imagine what those years had been like for her. Losing her mother, her father's years of depression, and then to lose her only brother in the war. He had been killed at Iwo Jima, which she had always said had been the fatal blow for her father. |
| 5400 |
She thought of Phil with his children in Tahoe, and felt lonely. Everything in her life suddenly seemed depressing. Her apartment was ugly, she had a weekend relationship with an inattentive boyfriend who didn't even bother to spend holidays with her after four years. All she really had in her life was work. |
| 5401 |
But what did she have? A solid career as a tax attorney, a partnership in a law firm, a mother who picked on her frequently, an adorable grandmother who adored her, and Phil, who used every excuse he could dream up not to spend time or holidays with her. It felt as though her personal life couldn't get much worse. |
| 5402 |
She thought of how brave her grandmother must have been, how hard it was to lose her mother, brother, father, and still soldier on like a ray of sunshine, bringing joy to everyone in her life. She thought of Stanley then, in his attic room in the Scott Street house, and she suddenly made a decision. |
| 5403 |
She had to do something different. If she didn't, she would be trapped here forever, alone on holidays, with dead plants and an unmade bed. Phil didn't bother to call her that night, to wish her a happy Thanksgiving. She didn't even matter that much to him. And he never liked her to call him when he was with his kids. |
| 5404 |
He considered it an intrusion and said as much if she called. She knew that when he did call, he'd have some complicated though plausible excuse why he hadn't. And swallowing whatever he said to her would only make it that much worse. It was time to pick up her skirts and do something about her life. |
| 5405 |
Marjorie thought she was calling about the house on Scott Street. The janitorial service had been there, the boards and curtains had been put in a dumpster, and the place was immaculate after a full time cleaning crew had scrubbed, polished, and shined it all week. The broker's open house was Tuesday. |
| 5406 |
Ten percent of half a million, if she spent that much, was only fifty thousand. That would leave her with seven hundred thousand to invest. If she went totally crazy and bought a house for two million dollars, she'd have to put up two hundred thousand. She'd still have half a million of Stanley's money left. |
| 5407 |
And she made enough money at the law firm to pay a mortgage. She didn't want a house. She didn't need that much space. An apartment seemed like a much better solution to her. She ran down the steps of her building at eleven thirty, stopped at Starbucks, and met Marjorie promptly at noon at the first address. |
| 5408 |
They were cold and small and cramped. For half a million dollars she wanted to buy something that had soul and that she loved. She was disappointed, but Marjorie told her not to be discouraged. There were going to be lots more on the market before the end of the year. And after Christmas, there would be even more. |
| 5409 |
People didn't want to be bothered selling their houses over the holidays, she explained to Sarah. This was a whole new world for her. She was discovering the horizons Stanley had alluded to in his letter. She was doing just what he had urged her and the others to do. He had opened an important door for her. |
| 5410 |
She hadn't heard from him in two days. He obviously wasn't pushing himself, or even thinking of her. He finally called her late that night, after she went to a movie by herself. The movie was lousy and the popcorn was stale. When the phone rang, she was lying on her bed, still dressed, feeling sorry for herself. |
| 5411 |
She didn't feel like part of his life, not an important part in any case. It sounded almost like a duty call, and she was too depressed to enjoy it. It just depressed her more, for everything it wasn't, and probably never would be. She was just a woman he spent weekends with. She wanted more than that. |
| 5412 |
She slept fitfully that night and woke up at six o'clock the next morning, forgot that it was Saturday, and started to get ready to go to work. And then she remembered what day it was, and went back to bed. She had two more days of the weekend to get through before she could escape into her work at the office. |
| 5413 |
Calling her married friends would just depress her. They were busy with husbands and kids she didn't have. What had happened to her life? Had all she accomplished for the past ten years been work, lose track of friends, and find a weekend boyfriend? She had no idea what to do with herself with spare time on her hands. |
| 5414 |
She decided to go to a museum, and drove by the house on Scott Street on her way. She hadn't done it on purpose, she had just turned, and there it was as she drove past it. It was even more meaningful to her now that she knew it had been built by her great grandfather, and her grandmother had been a child there. |
| 5415 |
She didn't like traveling by herself. She wondered if maybe for something like that, Phil would join her. She was suddenly trying to fill in the gaps in her life, to make it all make sense, and give her life some meaning and movement. Somewhere, sometime, somehow, she felt as though the engine of her life had died. |
| 5416 |
She stopped the car, got out, and stood staring up at it. The idea that had just come to her was the craziest she'd ever had. It wasn't just crazy. It was more than that. It made no sense whatsoever. Phil was right for once. Instead of buying a new couch and throwing out her plants, she was thinking of buying a condo. |
| 5417 |
But this, this was a money pit. It would not only eat up the money Stanley had so unexpectedly left her, it would eat up everything else she had saved. But if what Marjorie said was true, an ordinary little Pacific Heights house would cost her just as much, and this was a piece of history, her own history. |
| 5418 |
A man she had loved and respected had lived tucked away in the attic. And if what she needed was a project, this was the project to end all projects. "No!" she said to herself out loud, as she reached into her bag, found the keys, walked up the front steps, looked at the heavy bronze and glass door, and unlocked it. |
| 5419 |
She felt suddenly as though she had been picked up by a riptide in a rushing river with no free will of her own. She walked slowly into the main hallway. As Marjorie had promised, it was immaculate. The floors gleamed, the chandeliers sparkled in the afternoon light, and the white marble staircase shone. |
| 5420 |
The elevator was roughly eighty years old. There was almost nothing in the house, except the floors and boiseries, that didn't require some kind of attention. Jeff Parker had said it could be done for half a million dollars by someone who did some of the work themselves and kept a careful eye on the budget. |
| 5421 |
But all she could think of now was if she paid them two million for the house and put two hundred thousand down for the mortgage, she would have five hundred and fifty thousand of Stanley's dollars left to restore the house. "Oh my God," she said out loud, as she put her hands over her mouth and stood there. |
| 5422 |
And the scariest too. Marjorie promised to come by with the offering papers the following morning. Sarah started her car and drove home. She had never felt calmer, more certain about anything, or happier, ever. She parked her car, walked up the front steps of her apartment building, and went inside with a broad smile. |
| 5423 |
Sarah had already thought of it herself. She had said nothing to Phil when he called the night before. He had been shocked on Friday when she said she'd been looking at condos. He would think she'd lost her mind entirely if she told him that the next day she'd made an offer on a thirty thousand square foot house. |
| 5424 |
Once the offer was accepted, if it was, she needed to start making lists of everything she'd have to do. The electrical and plumbing work would have to be handled by a contractor, but she was going to try and do a lot of the more menial manual work herself. She was going to need their help, and lots of advice. |
| 5425 |
He took his work very seriously. He had brought two cameras, an industrial tape measure, a sketch pad, and a series of tools and implements to measure things, and check others out. He explained to her that the floors and boiseries would have to be protected while there was work being done in the house. |
| 5426 |
He obviously loved his profession, and the house she was buying was rapidly becoming his passion. It was like the projects he had done in Europe. He dropped her back at her place just after eight thirty, and promised to call her in the morning. The phone was ringing when she walked into her apartment. |
| 5427 |
In spite of the inadequacy of their arrangement, from her perspective, she had always been faithful to him, and he to her. She couldn't help wondering why he was coming over. She was drying her hair, after the shower, when he walked into the apartment, frowning. "What's with you?" he asked, looking worried. |
| 5428 |
Jeff gave out a whoop of glee when she told him. He had called her on Tuesday to check, but then she still had five approvals missing. All the heirs were delighted to get the house sold and out of the estate, and they were happy with the price. It was a complication and headache none of them had wanted. |
| 5429 |
There was even room for a large, comfortable dining table in front of the windows facing the garden. He was putting a lot of time and thought into her project. Occasionally, it made her wonder what his bill would look like. But he was obviously as passionate about the house on Scott Street as she was. |
| 5430 |
Or at worst, by the following Christmas. Jeff didn't think it would take a full year. He paid the check, and then looked at her with a quizzical expression. He had a boyish face, but a wise man's eyes. He seemed both old and young at the same time, and was only six years older than she was. He was forty four years old. |
| 5431 |
And he had mentioned in passing that Marie Louise was forty two, although Sarah thought she looked much younger. There was something about her spicy, somewhat racy look that made her seem even younger than Sarah, who had an entirely different, more businesslike look, at least on days she went to the office. |
| 5432 |
We have very different needs. He's divorced, and has been for twelve years. Three teenage kids, whom he sees for dinner once or twice a week. He goes away on holidays with them. He doesn't see more of them than that, and he never sees them on weekends, they're too busy, and I don't think he'd want to. |
| 5433 |
He's an attorney, too, and he's very busy. But mostly he likes to do his own thing, during the week anyway, and sometimes on weekends. He doesn't have much tolerance for closeness, or someone in his space all the time. We spend Friday and Saturday nights together. It's strictly a weekends only deal. |
| 5434 |
Weekends only is the pits. I hate it. It was fine at first, but it got to me after the first couple of years. I've been upset and complaining about it for the last year, but he doesn't want to hear about it. That's the deal that's on the table. Take it or leave it. He's a tough negotiator, and a very good attorney. |
| 5435 |
Most of them are commitment phobic. They've had a bad marriage and don't want another one, or even a full time commitment. The ones who've never been married are usually dysfunctional, and can't tolerate any relationship at all. The good ones are married by now and having children. Besides, I'm busy. |
| 5436 |
She over the three weeks she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him, although he could have dropped by during the week. And he because he didn't like her being out for dinner and turning off her cell phone. And this was the weekend she was planning to tell him about the house on Scott Street and maybe even show it to him. |
| 5437 |
With a house that size to remodel, she was going to have a lot to do. It would take up all her spare time. She stopped and bought groceries on the way home that night, and was thinking of cooking dinner, since they hadn't seen each other for so long. She was surprised to see Phil walk in just after seven. |
| 5438 |
He rarely apologized verbally, but always tried to make it up to her in other ways, if he had offended her in some way. "That would be nice," she said pleasantly, and got up to give him a kiss. She was surprised by the strength with which he hugged her, and the fervor of his kiss. Maybe he really had been jealous. |
| 5439 |
Most of the time he didn't want to see her, and then when she fended for herself, he was jealous, had a tantrum, and said he missed her. It seemed as though one of them always had to be uncomfortable. One end of the seesaw had to be up and the other down. They could never be on an even keel at the same time. |
| 5440 |
She had missed him, too, but not as much since she was distracted by the house. She hadn't said anything to him about it at dinner. She wanted to wait until after breakfast on Saturday morning. She somehow thought he'd be in a better mood. And she didn't know exactly why, but she had the feeling he'd disapprove. |
| 5441 |
Phil hated change, and there was no denying it was an outlandishly big house. She made him scrambled eggs and bacon in the morning, with blueberry muffins she had bought the night before. She even made him a mimosa, with champagne and orange juice, and brought him the paper while he was still in bed. |
| 5442 |
She could see that he thought it was a bad idea. He had already done the house thing, in his marriage. He didn't want anything more than the small apartment he had. All he had at his was one big bedroom, and a tiny back room with a triple bunk for his kids. They hardly ever stayed there, and it was easy to see why. |
| 5443 |
She had hated everything about his reaction, and she had no idea why he was doing that to her. Maybe he was jealous, or threatened, or hated change. Whatever it was, it wasn't nice, or even pretty to watch. When he came out of the bathroom, with his hair wet, wrapped in a towel, she was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. |
| 5444 |
He liked the status quo, and didn't want anything to change. Ever. He wanted her here in this apartment, which he was familiar with, at home on weekday nights, so he knew where she was. He wanted her sad, lonely, and bored, while she waited for him to show up two nights a week, just as she had said to him. |
| 5445 |
Nothing he had said that morning showed any respect for her. Or even kindness. Saying he loved her meant nothing if this was how he behaved. She remembered Jeff asking her the other night what it would take for her to let go, and she had told him she wasn't sure. Whatever it was, Phil was getting close. |
| 5446 |
It was the first sign of buyer's remorse she'd had, but as she walked through the master suite, she thought of the beautiful young woman who had lived there, and then run off to France and abandoned her husband and children. And the old man she had loved who had lived in the attic, and never had a life. |
| 5447 |
The house deserved it, and so did she. She went back to her apartment just before six, and thought about what to say to Phil. She had thought all day about telling him it was over. She didn't want to, but she was beginning to feel she had no other choice. She deserved a lot better than he was giving. |
| 5448 |
He didn't want to lose her, either. He wasn't willing to do it right, and he wasn't willing to let go. He was no different than she was, except that she wanted a real relationship with him, one that actually moved forward and grew, and he didn't want that. He wanted it just as it was, frozen in time, and stagnant. |
| 5449 |
There was very little good stuff left, just a lot of resentment and bad feelings, on both sides. That much was clear from the force of his tirade about the house the day before. It wasn't about the house, she realized, it was about them. He was tired of her pulling on him, begging for more, and she was tired of asking. |
| 5450 |
She wasn't going to let herself forget that. She wasn't going to do the unavailable thing again, even in a different format this time. Jeff was a truly lovely man. But unavailable was off limits for her. She wasn't going to allow herself to do that again. Whatever she did this time, it had to be right. |
| 5451 |
He gave her a new espresso machine, because hers was getting tired, and a pretty silver bracelet from Tiffany, which she loved. It was a simple bangle that she could wear to the office, or anytime. It wasn't showy. She gave him a new briefcase he needed desperately and a great looking blue cashmere sweater from Armani. |
| 5452 |
Sarah had been spending a lot of time there on weekends, sanding, cleaning, measuring, making lists. She had bought herself an impressive looking tool kit, and was going to try and build a bookcase herself, in her bedroom. Jeff had said he'd show her how. Marie Louise had finally come back to the city the week before. |
| 5453 |
If anything else developed later, if their current relationships failed, that would be a bonus, but Sarah had made it clear to him that it was too uncomfortable for her to harbor romantic feelings for him, while he was living with and totally enmeshed with Marie Louise, whether he was happy with her or not. |
| 5454 |
He also gave her a book, explaining about carpentry and house repairs, which would be very useful. He had given her the perfect gifts, carefully chosen. She in turn had given him a set of beautiful old leatherbound books on architecture, which were first editions. She had found them in a musty old bookstore downtown. |
| 5455 |
She knew that their time together at the house would be more circumspect now. He had never kissed her again since the day of their picnic there. They had both agreed that that wasn't a good idea, and would just get them into trouble, and someone would get hurt. Sarah didn't want it to be her, nor did he. |
| 5456 |
He had conceded that she was right, although it was hard not to reach out and take her in his arms when they were alone together. For her sake, as much as his own, he resisted the impulse now. Instead they worked together for hours, side by side, without ever touching. Admittedly, sometimes it was hard. |
| 5457 |
Mimi had done the vegetables and baked two pies, which got rave reviews. Sarah had brought wine, which everyone complimented her on. And George had given Mimi a beautiful little sapphire bracelet that made her eyes light up when she showed it off, and everyone oohed and aahed, which pleased George no end. |
| 5458 |
Phil called her at midnight, to wish her a merry Christmas. He said his children were having a great time, and so was he. He told Sarah he missed her, and she said the same to him, and felt sad after they hung up. She couldn't help wondering if she would ever have a man to spend holidays with. Maybe one day. |
| 5459 |
At least one woman in the family had a decent relationship. And it might as well be Mimi, she was so cute, and deserved to spend the remainder of her life happily. Sarah thought George was perfect for her. Mimi was the first to come through the front door, looking around as though afraid to see ghosts. |
| 5460 |
She walked slowly into the main hallway, with the others behind her, and went straight to the bottom of the grand staircase and looked up, as though she still saw familiar people there. As she turned to Sarah, there were tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. "It looks exactly the way I remember it," she said softly. |
| 5461 |
The results were exquisite. They spent another half hour on the second floor, looking at the sitting rooms, and standing in the ballroom, with its gilt and mirrors, paneling and inlaid floors. It was a work of art in itself. And then they went upstairs. Mimi went straight to her bedroom and her brother's. |
| 5462 |
She felt as though she had last seen them yesterday. She couldn't even speak, standing there, as George put a gentle arm around her shoulders. Standing in these rooms again was a deeply emotional journey for her. Sarah almost felt guilty putting her through it, but at the same time, she hoped it might heal old wounds. |
| 5463 |
Mimi remembered the elevator and how much she loved riding in it with her father, and the favorite downstairs maid she had sneaked up to see in the attic, whenever she could escape her governess. It was nearly two o'clock by the time they finished their tour. Mimi looked exhausted, and even the others looked drained. |
| 5464 |
They were working hard one night in separate rooms. He didn't charge her for the time he spent there, only his designs and drawings and liaison to contractors during that time. He said it relaxed him working on the house. He came to check on her progress, trying a new wax on one of the paneled rooms. |
| 5465 |
Sarah got up then, and was back at the house by ten. Jeff joined her there at noon. He didn't tell her that he had had a fight on the phone with Marie Louise that morning. She hadn't called him at midnight the night before, but she had wanted to know where he'd been. He told her the truth, and said it was innocent. |
| 5466 |
She was tired of being disappointed. It was simpler to wait until the weekend. He said he'd see her on Friday, and no matter how many times he did this to her, it was still an odd feeling to know that he was back in town, in his apartment only a few blocks away, and she couldn't see him. It gnawed at her for days. |
| 5467 |
And she had his keys with her. He had finally given them to her the year before, a year after she had given him hers. He was always slower to reciprocate. And he knew she didn't abuse the privilege. Except for something like this, to surprise him, she would never have gone there when he wasn't there. |
| 5468 |
The overalls were covered with the wax she used on the panels, and her hair was piled on top of her head to keep it out of her way when she worked. As she walked toward the building, she could see that the lights were out in his apartment. And she suddenly loved the idea of slipping into his bed and waiting for him. |
| 5469 |
She didn't bother to turn on the lights, because she didn't want to tip him off that she was there, if he was just walking down the street himself, on his way home from the gym, and happened to look up at his windows. She walked straight down the hall in the dark to his bedroom, opened the door, and walked in. |
| 5470 |
But at least she knew now. No more manipulation and lies. No more disappointment. No more agonizing self examinations about why she put up with his bullshit. It was finally over. She told herself she was glad, but tears were pouring down her cheeks as she walked into her apartment. It had been a hell of a shock. |
| 5471 |
The voice of conciliation. She walked over to her machine and erased it without listening to him. She didn't want to hear it. She lay in bed awake for hours that night, replaying the ugly scene in her head, that fucking unbelievable moment when he had sat up in bed and she realized there was a woman with him. |
| 5472 |
It was like watching the collapse of a building imploding on itself, or a bomb going off. Their very own twin towers. The whole fantasy world she had shared with him for four years, however inadequate it was, had come falling down around them. And there was no putting it back together. She didn't want to. |
| 5473 |
And even in her shaken state, she knew it was a mercy. She probably would have accepted weekends only for many more years. The phone continued to ring all night, and finally she unplugged it, and turned off her cell phone. It was gratifying to know he cared that much. He just didn't want to look bad. |
| 5474 |
She no longer cared. Cheating was one thing she wasn't going to put up with. She had put up with far too much already. But this was finally, and irreversibly, the last straw. She tried to tell herself in the morning that she felt better. In truth, she knew she didn't. But she felt certain she would eventually. |
| 5475 |
He called her six times that day at her office. She didn't take the calls, and then finally, on the seventh call, she did. She told herself she didn't need to hide from him. She had done nothing wrong. He had. All she said was hello when her secretary put the call through. He sounded panicked, which surprised her. |
| 5476 |
I believed the garbage you told me. I let you leave me at home for weekends and holidays with your kids. I've spent every goddamned Christmas and New Year's alone for four years, while you tell me how busy you are during the week and that you're going to the gym, when you're really fucking someone else. |
| 5477 |
He tried a few more times that night, after she plugged her phone in again, and this time she had unplugged her message machine, she didn't want to hear his voice ever again. It really was over. She shed a few tears over him that night, and tried to get the awful scene of the night before out of her head. |
| 5478 |
Her keys came back to her by messenger the next morning. He sent them to the apartment. It was Saturday morning. He had included a note saying that he was there for her, anytime she wanted to call him, and he hoped she would. She threw the note away after glancing at it, and packed up the things he had left there. |
| 5479 |
She realized as she packed his things that he had been more fantasy in her life than real. He was the embodiment of hope, and the culmination of her own neurosis, her terror of being alone, and abandoned by a man, as she had been by her father. So she put up with the crumbs he gave her, and never demanded more. |
| 5480 |
And on top of it, he was cheating on her. He had done her a huge favor the night he went to bed with the young blonde. She was actually surprised to discover that she didn't feel as bad as she had feared she would after the breakup. By late that afternoon, she was at the house, hammering away on the bookcase. |
| 5481 |
She thought the hammering would do her good, and it did. She didn't even hear the doorbell ring at first, and when she did finally, she was afraid that it was Phil. She peered downstairs cautiously, from a second floor window, and saw that it was Jeff. She ran down the grand staircase to the front door to let him in. |
| 5482 |
She was busy at the office, and working at the house every weekend. Jeff was right. Phil hadn't given up easily. He had called her many times, written to her, sent her roses, and even dropped by unannounced at the house on Scott Street. She had seen him from an upstairs window, and hadn't let him in. |
| 5483 |
She responded to none of his calls or messages, didn't thank him for the roses, and threw away his letters. She had meant what she said. There was nothing to discuss. She was finished. She assumed now that he had probably cheated on her for years. The way he had arranged their lives, he had had every opportunity. |
| 5484 |
And now she knew she couldn't trust him. That was enough for her. She was done. It took him nearly a month to stop calling. And when he did, she knew he had moved on. He had admitted to her once that he had cheated on his wife at the end, but he had blamed it on her, and said that she had driven him to it. |
| 5485 |
Maybe now, Sarah thought, he was blaming it on her. Stanley's estate was nearly settled. They had already disbursed a considerable amount of the assets to the heirs. She had received her bequest as well, from the liquid portion of his estate. She was doling it out carefully to the contractors Jeff was hiring for her. |
| 5486 |
She was doing a huge amount of work herself, and loving every minute of it. It was incredibly gratifying doing manual work, after all her more cerebral stresses in the office. And she was surprised to find she didn't miss Phil as much as she had feared. Working at the house on weekends helped a lot. |
| 5487 |
At times, even at thirty eight she felt over the hill. And there were fewer and fewer takers for women her mother's age. She knew a lot of Audrey's friends had tried computer dating services, sometimes with good results. But otherwise the men in Audrey's age group, for the most part, were dating women Sarah's age. |
| 5488 |
If nothing else, she was flattered. She hadn't had a date in months. And the last blind date she'd had had been a total dud. He was seventy five years old, had false teeth that kept slipping, he was deaf as a stone, rabidly right wing, refused to leave a tip at dinner, and hated everything she believed in. |
| 5489 |
She was wearing a red wool dress that set off her figure, without looking vulgar. It had a high neck and long sleeves, and she was wearing high heels and pearls, her hair done in a neat French twist. She was wearing a beautifully cut black wool coat over it that she had had for years, but looked well on her. |
| 5490 |
They were doing it floor by floor. In March they started laying the groundwork for the kitchen. It was exciting watching things come in. She had picked her appliances from books in Jeff's office, he was buying them for her wholesale. The house wasn't ready for her to move in yet, but it was going well. |
| 5491 |
And no one to go with. She hated traveling alone. All of her friends had children and husbands. She called a friend from college in Boston, but she was just getting divorced and couldn't leave her devastated kids. Sarah consoled herself by reminding herself that she couldn't have gone with Phil, either. |
| 5492 |
And wherever possible, she was going to do some of the painting herself. If not, it would cost a fortune and impact her budget. Besides, she thought painting some of the rooms would be fun, and learning to lay carpet gave her the illusion that she was saving money. Actually she had done well on the budget so far. |
| 5493 |
For the next month, she caught up with everything she had to do in the office, and started packing her apartment, so she'd be ready to move when she got back. Most of what she owned she was planning to either throw in the garbage or give to Goodwill. All she really had to take with her were her books and clothes. |
| 5494 |
He knew the story from her, but not the details. He was as intrigued by it as she was. It gave life to the house, and spirit, and soul. Lilli had been an adventuresome and somewhat outrageous young woman for her day. Particularly when one thought that she had been twenty four years old when she left. |
| 5495 |
They had become fast friends in their months of working together closely on her house. And as always, she was wearing his antique house pin on her lapel, she almost always did now. It was the symbol of her liberation, and her passion for the house. And she loved it all the more because Jeff had given it to her. |
| 5496 |
It was stressful for Jeff. Sometimes he thought she enjoyed it. For her, it was a way of life. Her family was like that. Sometimes it seemed, when he visited them with her, that they woke up every morning and slammed all the doors for the hell of it. It was the same with her aunts, uncles, and cousins. |
| 5497 |
Now that she was free and he wasn't, she didn't want to play those games with him. She knew she'd get hurt. And he respected her wishes. He cared about her too much to want to hurt her, and he was deeply involved with Marie Louise, for better or worse. Worse at the moment, but that could change any minute. |
| 5498 |
It was as though the project had been meant to be since the beginning. The restoration had been a dream. It was as though both Lilli and Stanley had wanted her to have the house, although perhaps each of them for different reasons. But it already felt like home to her. Moving in would be the icing on the cake. |
| 5499 |
And she was amazed at how comfortable she was alone. She felt totally safe, and despite her limited French, people seemed ready and able to help her all along the way. When she got off the train, she took a cab to her hotel. It was an old Renault that bumped along the roads, and the countryside was beautiful. |
| 5500 |
She was excited to see it. She had carefully written down the name, and showed it to the clerk at the desk of her hotel. He nodded and said something unintelligible to her in French, then showed her on a map and spoke in halting English. He asked if she wanted someone to drive her there, and she said she did. |
| 5501 |
They prepared it with cooked apples on the side, and salad and cheese afterward. Once back in her room, she sank into the feather bed, and slept like a baby until morning. She awoke with the sunlight streaming through the windows. She hadn't bothered to close the heavy shutters. She preferred the sunlight. |
| 5502 |
It looked enormous. There were turrets, and a courtyard, and a number of outbuildings. It dated back to the sixteenth century, and was very beautiful, although currently under reconstruction. There was heavy scaffolding around the main building, and workmen working industriously, just as they were on Scott Street. |
| 5503 |
This was so different and so far from home for her. And although she had none herself, Sarah couldn't imagine leaving one's children. Her heart went out to Mimi, as the thought crossed her mind. None of the workers paid any attention to Sarah, and she wandered for nearly an hour, exploring the property. |
| 5504 |
There was a man standing at a window, looking down at her, and she wondered if they were going to ask her to leave. He appeared on the front steps a few minutes later and walked toward her with a quizzical look on his face. He was a tall man with silver hair, wearing a sweater, jeans, and workboots. |
| 5505 |
The last marquis had no children. Someone bought it after the war, but they died very soon after, and it became a big battle with their family. They fought over it for twenty years, and never lived here. In time, they just left it, the people who had wanted it were gone, the others didn't want to live here. |
| 5506 |
There were enormously high ceilings, and a grand staircase leading to the upper floors. There were long hallways where Sarah could imagine ancestral portraits. Now there were rugs rolled up against the walls. There were sconces made for candles, and as they walked farther in, the tall windows let in sunlight. |
| 5507 |
He reappeared five minutes later, driving a black Rolls convertible. It was a very handsome car. Pierre Pettit treated himself very well. His ancestors may have been serfs, but he was obviously a very rich man. Sarah got in beside him, after explaining to her driver that the gentleman would take her back to the hotel. |
| 5508 |
It was a small, neat cottage with a fence around it, beautifully maintained, with rosebushes in front, and a tiny vineyard behind it. He got out and opened the car door politely for Sarah. It was a remarkable experience being with him. She felt as though she were in a movie. The movie was her life for the moment. |
| 5509 |
She spoke to Pierre, and pointed to someone in the back garden. She was his grandmother's caretaker. Pierre led Sarah out through the back of the small house. It was filled with lovely antiques, and had bright pretty curtains at the windows. The house was small, but he took care of his grandmother well. |
| 5510 |
She said she never even knew she had children until one day she saw her looking at photographs of them in the garden, and she was crying. But she said that other than that, she was always very happy here. She had a sunny nature, and she adored her husband. He was a few years older than she, and he worshiped her. |
| 5511 |
Alexandre, her ex husband, had died that year too. It was hard to imagine how Lilli could survive for all those years without news or contact with her children, or any of the people she had once loved. She left them all for the marquis, closed the door of her past behind her, and never opened it again. |
| 5512 |
And the marquis was inconsolable when she died. My grandmother thinks he had been in the Resistance all along, but no one knew for sure. He began disappearing more and more after she died, perhaps on missions with local cells, or in other districts. The Germans killed him one night not far from here. |
| 5513 |
She had belonged to each of them, and had been theirs, and in the end, she had been her own. She was like a beautiful bird that could be loved and admired but not caged. As they sat together, and Sarah mulled over Lilli's story, Pierre's grandmother's brow furrowed for a moment, and she said something more to him. |
| 5514 |
He told my grandmother that she put them in a little box, where she kept them tied up with ribbons. My grandmother said she never saw them until the marquise died. She found the box when she was helping to put away her things, and showed the box of letters to the marquis. He told her to throw them away, so she did. |
| 5515 |
She doesn't know for sure, but she thinks they were letters to her children, all of which were returned. She must have tried to contact them over the years, but someone always sent them back to her unopened. Perhaps the man she had been married to, the children's father. He must have been very angry at her. |
| 5516 |
But in the end, hard as it was to understand, her love for the marquis had been more powerful, and had prevailed, as had his for her. It was one of those passions apparently that defied reason and all else. She had walked away from an entire life to give herself to him, and leave everyone, even her children, behind. |
| 5517 |
She had gone to her grave without ever seeing them again, which seemed a terrible fate to Sarah. And for Mimi, the grandmother she loved so much. Pierre chatted with his grandmother for a while, and then they left. Sarah thanked her profusely again before she did. It had been an amazing day for her. |
| 5518 |
What had driven her, who she had been, what she had really felt or not felt or cared about or longed for were all secrets she had taken with her. Clearly, her passion for the marquis had been a powerful force. Sarah knew that Lilli had met him at a consular party in San Francisco just before the crash. |
| 5519 |
Perhaps she had been unhappy with Alexandre, but he had obviously adored her. But it was, in the end, the marquis who had owned her heart, and only he. Sarah felt as though she had something to go back with, which would satisfy her grandmother and even her mother, although Lilli would forever be an enigma. |
| 5520 |
He had made her whole trip worthwhile. She felt as though destiny had brought them together. Meeting Pierre had been an incredible gift. "Perhaps you are dangerous," he said, as they drove up to her hotel, and she thanked him for his kindness, and spending the entire day with her, driving her around. |
| 5521 |
He had brought his own bottle of wine. He regaled her with tales of his travels, and adventures on his yacht when he sailed around the world. He was interesting to talk to and fun to be with. She felt as though she were on another planet as she laughed and talked with him. It was a delightful evening for both of them. |
| 5522 |
It's yours. Sarah's house. She led her life, she did exactly what she wanted to do, no matter who she hurt or who she left behind. She was a woman who knew her own mind, and always got what she wanted. You can tell that, listening to her story. I'm sure she was very beautiful, but probably very selfish. |
| 5523 |
He told her he'd pick her up at nine the next morning, and they'd be back in Paris by five in the afternoon. He said he was meeting friends in Paris the following night, but would enjoy taking her to dinner in Paris another night of her stay. It sounded wonderful to her, and they made a date on the trip back to Paris. |
| 5524 |
She made him promise to call her if he ever came to San Francisco. And she had no doubt he would. They had genuinely enjoyed getting to know each other, and she left Paris knowing she had a friend there. She felt as though she were leaving home when she checked out of the hotel and took a cab to the airport. |
| 5525 |
She wanted to come back to Paris again soon. It had been everything she'd hoped for and more. She'd only heard from Jeff twice on the trip. Once about a minor electrical problem, and the second time about a replacement refrigerator, when the one they'd ordered didn't come, and wouldn't for several months. |
| 5526 |
Long distance was too tough to really work. Sarah had tried it in college and never liked it. Geographic undesirability had been a turn off to her ever since. She took a cab from the airport to her apartment, and as she came through the door, it looked worse than ever. She felt like she no longer even lived there. |
| 5527 |
She couldn't wait to get out. There were boxes everywhere that she'd packed before she left, and the rest of her belongings were in piles all over the floor. Goodwill was scheduled to come on Tuesday to take whatever she didn't move. She wasn't moving much. She was almost embarrassed to give it to Goodwill. |
| 5528 |
She felt as though she had grown up in the last six months, ever since she'd bought the house. She called her mother that night to say she was back. Her mother sounded rushed, she said she was flying out the door. She was going to Carmel for the weekend. She seemed to be moving around a lot these days, and having fun. |
| 5529 |
Sarah was surprised not to hear from Jeff that night. He knew when she was coming back, but he was probably busy. She fell asleep early that night, still on Paris time, and woke up at five in the morning, thoroughly jet lagged. She showered and dressed, made herself a cup of coffee, and headed to the house at six. |
| 5530 |
And when she walked in, the new kitchen was gorgeous. It was even more beautiful than she'd hoped for. And she liked the replacement refrigerator even better. She was going to start painting the smaller rooms in the next week, and the professional painters were starting in two weeks to do the big ones. |
| 5531 |
By June the house would be nearly complete. She was going to do the rest of the details slowly, over time, and begin looking for furniture at estate sales and auctions. That would take more time, but her money was holding up nicely, thanks to Jeff's help cutting corners and getting her everything wholesale. |
| 5532 |
But he hadn't wanted to tell Sarah till she got back. He needed time to adjust to it himself. It was still a little weird going home to an empty house. She had taken everything she wanted with her, and told him to keep or sell the rest. She had no great attachment to any of it, not even him, which was painful. |
| 5533 |
It was gorgeous, and very girly with the pink headboard. It was almost worthy of Lilli. He went to her apartment with her, helped her carry armloads of clothes and boxes downstairs, and they drove over four loads of her things in both their cars. And then he helped her carry it all up to her bedroom. |
| 5534 |
Marie Louise had never spent much time with him, but it was different now, knowing she was gone for good. No matter how difficult it had been, it left a void, and he hadn't yet figured out how to fill it. She was like a phantom limb now that she was gone. It ached at times, but he was managing without her. |
| 5535 |
She had felt that way since the first time she saw the house. And now it was real. Her dream had come true at last. They found an apartment for him that afternoon. It was small and compact. It wasn't exciting, but it was clean and in good condition, and a block from his office. It even had a small garden. |
| 5536 |
He had said that, eventually, he would buy another house, but not yet. It was too soon. It was an odd feeling for her now, too. After their off and on flirtation for the last five months, and occasional moments of near passion when he kissed her, she didn't know quite where they stood now, and neither did he. |
| 5537 |
She didn't want to screw up their friendship for a romance that might not last anyway, or destroy the easy companionship they shared. She didn't hear from him again until Tuesday at the office. He said he had an appointment in the neighborhood, and invited her to lunch. She met him at the Big Four at one o'clock. |
| 5538 |
She was going to introduce him as the architect who was helping her with the house, which explained his being there, without telling her family yet that they were dating. It was still very new, and she wasn't ready to share that information with them yet. But it was an easy way for them to meet him. |
| 5539 |
He told her on the phone the day before that he was nervous about it. She told him she thought her mother would be fine, her grandmother was adorable, and George was easy. He was only slightly reassured. This was important to him, he didn't want to blow it. They had already seen each other three times that week. |
| 5540 |
He came by the next day, too, and Sarah made dinner. They wound up talking about everything from foreign movies to decorating to politics, and neither of them got any work done, but they had a nice time. And on Friday he took her to dinner and a movie, to "maintain their dating status," as he put it. |
| 5541 |
It wasn't a serious film, but they had a nice time with each other, and kissed again for a long time when he brought her home. They were still moving slowly, though seeing a lot of each other. He had spent the day with her on Saturday, painting again, and helped her set the dinner table for her first party. |
| 5542 |
Mimi and George were the first to arrive. She looked as happy and was as sweet as always, said how pleased she was to meet Jeff and what a good job he'd done helping her granddaughter with the house. They walked straight into the kitchen, because there was nowhere else to sit for the moment, except on Sarah's bed. |
| 5543 |
She was wearing it differently these days, in a variety of upsweeps that were very flattering, and she was wearing very good looking new pearl earrings that Sarah complimented her on, too. "I thought you'd like to meet him," Sarah said, referring to Jeff, and then lowered her voice conspiratorially. |
| 5544 |
Audrey and her mother embraced, and Mimi couldn't stop talking about how immaculate the house looked. It still needed a coat of paint, of course, but all the new electric lights and the revitalized chandeliers had already given the place a glow. The paneling shone, the bathrooms were clean and functional. |
| 5545 |
Jeff had pointed out every new detail, while Mimi told him tales of her childhood, and pointed out all the little secret cubbyholes and corners of the children's rooms. They had become good friends on their brief tour. Sarah lit the candles on the table, and they sat down to dinner shortly after that. |
| 5546 |
Audrey asked him about his work, and he explained about his passion for old houses. Everyone thought him very attractive, although Audrey remembered Sarah telling her that he lived with someone, so it was obvious that their relationship was professional and not romantic. Still, they appeared to be very good friends. |
| 5547 |
It was a typically generous statement from her, knowing all she'd lost. She had grown up without a mother, because Lilli ran off with the marquis. It was an odd, empty feeling knowing that her mother had been alive until she herself was twenty one years old, when she had never seen her again after she was six. |
| 5548 |
It was a trip she still wanted to make, to see where her mother was buried, and pay her last respects to the mother she had lost as a young child. It was a lovely evening for all of them, and they hated to see it end. They were about to leave the table finally, when Audrey cleared her throat and clinked her glass. |
| 5549 |
Sarah thought she was going to say something about wishing her luck in her new house. She smiled at her mother expectantly, as did the others, and Jeff stopped talking to Mimi. They had enjoyed a lively conversation with each other all night, particularly about the house, but on other topics as well. |
| 5550 |
She had read her some of the stories she used to read to Sarah when she was little. Tom had watched them from the doorway of Debbie's room with tears in his eyes. Audrey was more than willing to help him handle the nurses and Debbie's care, as his late wife had done. She wanted to do everything she could to help him. |
| 5551 |
They had all they wanted without marriage. But Tom would be great for Audrey, who was still young enough to want a husband. Mimi said she was happy as she was. The house was strangely quiet after the others left. Sarah walked back to the kitchen, thinking of how odd it felt to know that her mother would be moving away. |
| 5552 |
I had no idea she'd marry him, though. I know they had dinner together when he was out here, and he sent her some e mails. She hasn't said a word to me about him since. But I think she'll be really happy with him, and once you get past her occasional prickles and sharp tongue, my mother is a really good woman. |
| 5553 |
She offered Jeff another glass of wine then. There was almost no place for them to sit yet. All she had was her kitchen table and chairs, and her bed upstairs. The rest of the time they had been working on the house, and didn't mind sitting on the floors. But on a social evening like this one, the options were limited. |
| 5554 |
She didn't even have a chair in her room, although she had ordered a small pink couch, which wasn't due to arrive for months. He said he'd had enough to drink, and they sat in the kitchen for a long time, talking. He was aware of the social awkwardness her lack of furniture caused. He knew her circumstances well. |
| 5555 |
Her new bed looked very pink and pretty in the master bedroom, and the light from her two bed lamps cast a soft glow in the room. "Welcome home," she said softly as she turned to look at him. He was gazing down at her with eyes of wonder, as he gently released her hair, and it cascaded past her shoulders. |
| 5556 |
He spent most of his nights with her at the house on Scott Street. He only went home for the night when he had work to do and needed his drafting table. She finally suggested he get one and put it in one of her spare little rooms. She had so many, she had plenty of room for him to set up a makeshift office with her. |
| 5557 |
Each day, the house looked more exquisite. Jeff turned out to be an excellent cook and made breakfast for them every morning before they left for work. He made pancakes, French toast, fried eggs, omelettes, scrambled, even eggs Benedict on weekends, and she warned him that he'd have to leave if he made her fat. |
| 5558 |
They had long since lost count of the number of dates, and agreed that there had been many. They had been together for some part of every day since Audrey's announcement of her impending marriage. And he spent just about every night of the week with her. He hadn't officially moved in, but he was there constantly. |
| 5559 |
And one of the master dressing rooms was now his. Everything was working out beautifully for them. By the first of June, preparations for Audrey and Tom's wedding were in high gear. Audrey had picked out furniture to rent for the main floor, for the dining room and sitting rooms, and the main salon. |
| 5560 |
Even though it was the second wedding for each of them, she wanted it to be a day that they would remember for the rest of their lives, especially Tom. She had hired a group of four to play chamber music as people walked in. The wedding itself was going to be in the living room. She had thought of everything. |
| 5561 |
She had been too busy in the office to go shopping since Audrey had shared the news. Her mother finally convinced her to take an afternoon off, and they went shopping together, with great results, at Neiman Marcus. Audrey found an off white satin cocktail dress with crystal beads on the hem, cuffs, and neck. |
| 5562 |
She found perfect white satin shoes with rhinestone buckles to go with it, and a matching handbag. Tom had just given her a spectacular pair of diamond earrings as a wedding present, and the engagement ring he had given her was a ten carat cushion cut diamond that knocked Sarah's eyes out when she saw it. |
| 5563 |
Her mother insisted she couldn't wear an old black cocktail dress she'd worn to her office Christmas party for the past two years. As the maid of honor, she had to buy something new, and then finally her mother spotted an exceptionally pretty Valentino dress. It was the same brilliant blue as Sarah's eyes. |
| 5564 |
There were still details to attend to, and there would be for a long time. But the house looked beautiful and was very much in order and, thanks to Jeff, had come in way under budget. She had even finished the bookcase she made and it was now full of law books in her study. There was even room for more. |
| 5565 |
The stairs in her new house were keeping her in shape. She hadn't started to build the gym in the basement yet. She wanted to do curtains and furniture first. He was back upstairs in her bedroom half an hour later. She was lying on the bed, watching the news and looking relaxed. He loved just watching her sometimes. |
| 5566 |
Jeff's idea was that they buy houses together, in bad shape, restore and remodel them together, then sell them at a profit. He loved what she had done to her own house, and said she had a knack for it. She liked the idea, but worried about what it would cost them. It was an idea for the long haul, if there was one. |
| 5567 |
But she liked his idea about redoing houses on spec. She knew she was going to be sad when the house on Scott Street was finally complete. She had loved every minute of doing it, and still did. He stayed with her that night, and for the weekend. He hardly went to his apartment anymore except to get books and clothes. |
| 5568 |
She was going to live there, and set up a studio for herself. Their life of fourteen years had unraveled fairly easily, surprisingly so, which only validated Sarah's point to her mother. It was easier not to get married, especially if anything went wrong further down the road. Sarah thought Marie Louise was lucky. |
| 5569 |
Jeff was a great guy. He had handled everything for her, didn't cheat her out of a penny, was generous to a fault, and gave her everything she wanted. He was a prince in every way. Sarah was impressed by all she saw. The gods had smiled on her this time. So far. For now at least, she didn't want to look past today. |
| 5570 |
Everyone was moved, as she walked to him and took his arm. The judge who performed the ceremony spoke wisely about the challenges of marriage, and the blessings it provided when it was right, the wisdom of it between two good people who had chosen well. The food was delicious. The wine was fabulous. |
| 5571 |
Sarah was happy for her. She had never expected her matchmaking to have this result, but now that it had happened, she was glad it did. She hoped they had a long and happy life together. Her mother called her as they were going to bed, to thank her for letting her use the house, and tell her how much she loved her. |
| 5572 |
They walked and swam, rode mountain bikes, and water skied in the icy lake. On Labor Day weekend, at the end of their stay, Jeff reminded her that they had been together for four months. They both agreed they had been the happiest months of their lives. The subject of marriage and children hadn't come up again. |
| 5573 |
He hadn't heard from her since August, and much to his own surprise, didn't miss her. Even though they had spent fourteen years together, he always knew it was wrong for him. He had just kept investing himself in it. But now that he was with Sarah, he saw the difference. It was as though they were made for each other. |
| 5574 |
He remembered his own grandfather's old saying that there was a pot for every lid, or a lid for every pot. Whichever it was, he had found it. The only one as amazed by it as he was, was Sarah, who was equally delighted with him. As Sarah had promised she would, she made Thanksgiving dinner at her house that year. |
| 5575 |
George had become a permanent fixture, and was only slightly older than she. Sarah was serving the mince, apple, and pumpkin pies they had every year at the end of the meal, while Jeff dished out the ice cream and whipped cream, when Mimi looked at them, somewhat nervously, and George nodded encouragement. |
| 5576 |
She looked faintly embarrassed, as though there was something slightly silly about it. But they loved each other and wanted to spend their final years together. The only bad news was that they were moving to Palm Springs. George had already sold his house in the city, and Mimi was putting her house on the market. |
| 5577 |
They all knew that Jeff and Sarah were living together, and it didn't bother her at all. She was nearly forty years old, and had a right to do what she wanted. Sarah ignored his good natured complaints and asked them when they were getting married. They hadn't set the date yet, but they wanted it to be soon. |
| 5578 |
Every day he brought home new decorations, more presents, another tape of carols, and two weeks before Christmas, he came home with a twenty foot Douglas fir. He had four men from The Guardsmen set it up next to the grand staircase, after which he brought home two carloads of decorations. Sarah laughed when she saw it. |
| 5579 |
She had also given him a bunch of small silly gifts, filled a stocking for him, and even left him a letter from Santa, telling him what a good boy he was, but to please stop dumping his dirty laundry all over the laundry room floor and expecting someone else to pick it up. It was his only flaw. He didn't have many. |
| 5580 |
Sarah loved that they were all staying with her. It made her feel like a kid again to have them both around. They all went out to breakfast the next day, on the morning of New Year's Eve. The caterers were already at work in the kitchen, and even for a small dinner party, the preparations seemed endless. |
| 5581 |
At the last minute, they had decided to make the wedding black tie. All three women were going to be wearing long gowns, as were Mimi's five or six friends who were attending. The men were wearing tuxedos. The groom looked very debonair with a red bow tie, and ruby studs and cufflinks that had been his grandfa ther's. |
| 5582 |
They stood in front of the minister, and exchanged their vows in clear, strong, peaceful voices. Then George kissed the bride, and the music started up again, and everyone was laughing and crying and celebrating, as they had done only months before for Audrey. Jeff kissed the bride, and told her it was now official. |
| 5583 |
She stopped halfway down the stairs as they watched her. She was wearing a bright red suit, with her mink coat over her arm, and low heeled shoes. She looked well put together, and far younger than her age, as she took a last whiff of the delicate flowers and gracefully tossed them at her granddaughter. |
| 5584 |
Sarah caught them before they fell to the floor, looked startled, and then, as though they were too hot to handle, she tossed them back to Mimi, almost by reflex, who caught them with one hand, and threw them at Jeff, who caught them with both hands, and stood there grinning, while everyone applauded. |
| 5585 |
It was a quiet weekend after everyone left. Jeff went to his office upstairs to work. Sarah changed her clothes and started her painting project. She brought him a sandwich at his desk around two. They both worked till dinnertime, they ate leftovers from the wedding, and afterward they went to a movie. |
| 5586 |
And for the rest of the day, they were both busy. They went to a party given by old friends of Sarah's on Sunday night, and on Monday the new year began with a bang. It seemed like every client she had wanted to rewrite their will that month. New tax laws had been passed, and everyone was in a panic. |
| 5587 |
After four weeks of working day and night and burning the candle at both ends, Sarah caught a terrible cold at the end of January. She had never been as sick in her life, and after a week of cold and fever that kept her home, it then turned into stomach flu, and she spent the next four days in the bathroom. |
| 5588 |
Jeff felt sorry for her, and kept bringing her soup, orange juice, or tea. It all made her even sicker, and finally she just lay in bed moaning. "I think I'm dying," she said to him, as tears rolled down her cheeks. He felt helpless, and at the end of the second week he told her she had to go to the doctor. |
| 5589 |
Jeff wasn't home yet. Feeling stupid for even doing it, she followed the directions, did the test, left it on her sink, went back to bed, and turned on the TV. She'd almost forgotten about it half an hour later, and went back to her bathroom to see what the results were. She knew they were going to be not pregnant. |
| 5590 |
She picked up the test with a smug look, glanced at it, looked again, and then fumbled in the garbage for the instructions. There were two lines on the test, and she suddenly couldn't remember if there were supposed to be one or two if she wasn't pregnant. The diagram stated it clearly so anyone could read it. |
| 5591 |
When he did, she was asleep, and in her sleep, she looked as sweet as ever. He knew it had been a hell of a shock for her. He wanted her to keep their baby, but he couldn't force her to do it. He knew she had to make that decision herself. She was sullen and silent at the breakfast table the next day. |
| 5592 |
She left for her doctor's appointment, and she never called him. She was already at home when he got back that night, and he could see how upset she was. The doctor had obviously confirmed it. Jeff said nothing, and she went back to bed. She was asleep by nine o'clock, and the next morning, she looked better. |
| 5593 |
She was just angry and upset and terrified. She didn't feel ready to be a mother, and didn't want to condemn a child to an unhappy life. He offered to marry her, which frightened her even more. All the ghosts of her past had come back to haunt her, mostly her own miserable childhood, and her father. |
| 5594 |
He was a good man, and she knew it. It took her nearly three weeks, and then she made a decision. She never told her mother, or anyone. She figured it out for herself. It was the scariest thing she'd ever done in her life. She told him she wouldn't marry him, for now anyway, but she wanted to have their child. |
| 5595 |
It was due on the twenty first of September. Jeff had never been so excited in his life. It took Sarah longer to get used to the idea. But the first time she felt it move, she lay in bed and smiled and told him it felt weird. He went to all her sonograms, even the one at five months where they saw it sucking its thumb. |
| 5596 |
She thanked him for putting up with her neuroses and terrors. From then on, she was fine. It was their baby, not just hers. She had told her mother and Mimi, and everyone was excited. He had offered to marry her several times, but that was too much for her right now. She told him one thing at a time. |
| 5597 |
And for the first time, she realized that she wanted to be Jeff's wife, not just bear his child. All her notions of independence and freedom flew right out the window, as Phil and his bimbo walked down the street. She didn't want to be one of them. She wanted to be with Jeff, and their baby, for the rest of her life. |
| 5598 |
She was still working, but she was getting tired. She was going to take six months' maternity leave after the baby came. She was going to figure out if she wanted to work part time or full time after that. He would have loved it if she'd retire from the law firm, and restore houses with him, but that was up to her. |
| 5599 |
As part of her plan, Sarah had decided to work till her due date. She finished work on the last day, they gave her a shower and a lunch, and she couldn't imagine what she would do without going to the office. The whole concept seemed odd to her. She was an attorney. She went to an office every day. Or she used to. |
| 5600 |
She was afraid she would go out of her mind with boredom. She told them she might come back early, and one of the women lawyers told her she might not want to come back at all, which Sarah thought was absurd. Of course she would. Unless she went into business with Jeff, restoring houses commercially. |
| 5601 |
That appealed to her, too, particularly with him. She loved the idea of working with him every day. It was a period of transition and change for her. Everything in her life was shifting and moving, even the baby in her womb. After the shower and the lunch, she packed her briefcase and went home. And then she waited. |
| 5602 |
Jeff was trying to work from his office at home as much as he could. He wanted to be around if something happened, or she needed him. They had set up the nursery in Mimi's childhood room. It seemed fitting, since the baby had been conceived on her wedding night, and Mimi herself had been born in that room. |
| 5603 |
They went for a walk around the neighborhood that afternoon. They walked to Fillmore Street and back, and she could hardly make it up the hill, but she did, with Jeff's help. They were talking about what they were going to do, and if they were going to buy a house to resell. She was tempted to do it. |
| 5604 |
It ached all the time now, because the baby was so heavy. The doctor was going to induce her in another week, he said, but not till then. The baby was fine, and so was she. She went downstairs after her bath, to get something to eat, and then came back upstairs again. She felt as though she needed to move around. |
| 5605 |
She couldn't speak. She had woken up out of a sound sleep, having a baby, and was too stunned to even wake him. They had both realized by then that the contractions in the bathtub had been real, not "fake," and her restlessness, backache, and stomachache had been labor, for a long time. They had missed all the signs. |
| 5606 |
A burly paramedic cut the cord, wrapped the baby in a sheet, and handed him to Sarah as she beamed. Jeff couldn't stop crying. She and the baby were the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. They put her in an ambulance with the baby, to check them out at the hospital, and Jeff rode with them. The baby was perfect. |
| 5607 |
Sarah had never looked better, Jeff looked slightly frazzled and sleep deprived, and everyone agreed William was the prettiest baby they'd ever seen. He was a beautiful, healthy boy. His parents had waited a long time to have him, but he had come at the right time. Mimi loved visiting him in her old room. |
| 5608 |
It made Sarah half an hour late when she came downstairs, and by then everyone was waiting. Mimi was holding the baby, Jeff was wearing a dark blue suit and was wide awake and looked refreshed. Tom and George were standing side by side, and all heads turned as Sarah came slowly down the stairs in a long white dress. |
| 5609 |
The dress was a simple creamy lace with long sleeves and a high neck, and showed off her figure, which was better than ever, even if slightly fuller. She was wearing her hair in a loose bun, with lily of the valley in it, and she held a bouquet of them in her hands. Jeff's eyes filled with tears when he saw her. |
| 5610 |
They were slowly growing into the house, each other, and their lives. Sarah had become Mrs. Jefferson Parker. She had extended her maternity leave to a year, and they had just bought a small house to remodel, to try it out as a joint project. They would see what happened after that, and how much money they made on it. |
| 5611 |
If it went well, she was going to leave the law firm. She was tired of chasing tax laws and writing wills. As she danced with Jeff, Sarah thought of Stanley's words way at the beginning, telling her not to waste her life, to live it and dream it and savor it, to look to the horizon, and not make the mistakes he had. |
| 5612 |
In the end, they had all been touched by Lilli. The woman who had run away so long ago had left a legend and a legacy behind her. A daughter she had barely known, a granddaughter who was a fine woman, a great granddaughter who had brought Lilli's house back to life with infinite tenderness and love. |
| 5613 |
The model stood in the fountain for hours on end, jumping, splashing, laughing, her head thrown back in practiced glee, and each time she did it, she was convincing. She was wearing an evening gown hiked up to her knees, and a mink wrap. A powerful battery operated fan blew her long blond hair out in a mane behind her. |
| 5614 |
They wrapped up the shoot at twelve thirty, and she climbed out of the fountain as though she had only been in it for ten minutes, instead of four and a half hours. They were doing a second setup at the Arc de Triomphe that afternoon, and one that night at the Eiffel Tower, with the sparklers going off behind them. |
| 5615 |
They had plenty of time. It would take his assistants roughly two hours to set up the shoot at the Arc de Triomphe. He had gone over all the details and angles with them the day before, and he didn't need to be there until they had the shot fully ready. That gave him and Candy a couple of hours for lunch. |
| 5616 |
You could see all the bones in her shoulders, chest, and ribs. Just as she was more famous than most of her counterparts, she was also thinner than most. It worried Matt for her sometimes, although she just laughed when he accused her of having an eating disorder. Candy never responded to comments about her weight. |
| 5617 |
She ordered a salad for lunch, without dressing, Matt ordered steak tartare, and they settled back to relax, as people at tables around them stared at her. Everyone in the place had recognized her. She was wearing jeans and a tank top and flat silver sandals she had bought the year before in Portofino. |
| 5618 |
She usually stayed at the Byblos Hotel, with friends, or on some one's yacht. Candy always had a million options, and was in huge demand, as a celebrity, a woman, and a guest. Everyone wanted to be able to say she'd be there, so others would come. People used her as a lure, and proof of their social prowess. |
| 5619 |
She didn't have the time or the desire to settle down, and the kind of men she met were not the kind she wanted to stay with. She always said that she'd never been in love, although she had been out with a lot of men, but none of them worthwhile, since the boy she'd been involved with in high school. |
| 5620 |
He was still in college now, and they had lost touch. Candy had never gone to college. Her first big modeling break had happened in her senior year in high school, and she had promised her parents she'd go back to school later. She wanted to take advantage of the opportunities she had, while she had them. |
| 5621 |
College was becoming an ever more unlikely plan. She just couldn't see the point. Besides, as she always pointed out to her parents, she wasn't nearly as smart as her sisters, or so she claimed. Her parents and sisters denied it, and still thought she should go to college when her life slowed down, if it ever did. |
| 5622 |
And her mother still had a great figure and was beautiful at fifty seven. All the women in the family were knockouts, although their looks were very different from each other. Candy looked nothing like the other women in her family. She was by far the tallest, and she had her father's looks and height. |
| 5623 |
They had one of every color, their father liked to tease them. And in their youth, they had looked like the old Breck ads, eastern, patrician, distinguished, and handsome. The four girls had been beautiful as children, and often caused comment, and still did when they went out together, even with their mother. |
| 5624 |
She looked absolutely breathtaking, as two policemen helped her cross through the traffic to where Matt and his crew were waiting for her under the huge French flag flying from the Arc de Triomphe. Matt beamed as he saw her coming. Candy was truly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and possibly in the world. |
| 5625 |
Jack and Liz had been handling her divorce for the past year, they worked as a team, and had opened their joint family law office eighteen years before, just after they were married. They liked working together, and had long since developed a comfortable routine. They enjoyed their practice, and were good at it. |
| 5626 |
And as usual, he didn't. After hearing the shenanigans that had been pulled by Phillip Parker and his legal team, the judge agreed to freeze his assets and monitor his companies for the next thirty days until he came up with the information his wife's legal team needed to reach a settlement with him. |
| 5627 |
His lawyer argued vehemently against it, protesting hotly to the judge, but the judge refused to hear it, ordered him to sit down, and minutes later, rapped his gavel and called a recess. And within seconds afterwards, after an ominous look at his soon to be ex wife, Parker stormed out of the courtroom. |
| 5628 |
And as much as Jack scared her at times, she trusted him completely, and had followed everything he told her to the letter, even this time. She herself was surprised that the judge had been so sympathetic to her, and as Jack said as they walked back to their offices again, that alone should prove something to her. |
| 5629 |
She was intensely organized and detail conscious, which was the only way she could manage both a large family and a career. That and the wonderful housekeeper they'd had for the last fourteen years, Carole, who was devoted to their children. Liz knew without a moment's doubt that she would have been lost without her. |
| 5630 |
They had come to each other with years of Christmas traditions they cherished, and over the years had managed to blend them into one big warm cozy celebration, which their children loved. Liz drove the short distance to their home in Tiburon, and smiled to herself as she pulled into the driveway on Hope Street. |
| 5631 |
All three of her daughters had just returned from shopping with Carole, and they were getting out of the car with all their packages. Megan was a willowy fourteen, at thirteen Annie was stockier but looked just like her mother, and Rachel was eleven, and looked just like Jack, despite her mother's red hair. |
| 5632 |
She glanced at the mail sitting on the kitchen table, but there was nothing important. And as she looked up at the view from the kitchen windows, she could see the skyline of San Francisco across the bay. They had a pretty view, and a warm, comfortable home. It was a little tight for them, but they loved it. |
| 5633 |
The three girls had already fled to their rooms, more than likely to talk on the phone. The four oldest kids competed constantly for their two phone lines. Liz was busily rolling out cookie dough and cutting it with Christmas forms, when Carole came back downstairs to go and pick up Jamie half an hour later. |
| 5634 |
He managed well in spite of it, went to a special school, and was responsible, and alert, and loving. But he would never be like his brother and sisters. It was something they had all long since accepted. It had been a shock at first, and an acute agony, especially for her. She felt so responsible at first. |
| 5635 |
At first it had looked as though the disaster might be even greater, and for weeks it looked like he might not survive at all. When they brought him home finally, after six weeks in an incubator, he seemed like a miracle to all of them, and still was. He had a special gift of love, and his own brand of wisdom. |
| 5636 |
Liz poured him a glass of wine, and followed him into the living room, with Jamie just behind them. Peter went off to use the phone, to tell Jessica he'd be back after dinner. And they could hear screams as they sat in the living room, when he took the phone out of Megan's hands, and disconnected one of her suitors. |
| 5637 |
In spite of the many years they'd been married, and the children that constantly surrounded them, there was still a fair amount of romance between them. Jack was always good about that, about spiriting her away for romantic evenings, taking her out for nice dinners, and away for the occasional weekend. |
| 5638 |
They were talking about silly things that had happened in years past, and Jamie added to the conversation and reminded them all of when Grandma had come for Christmas and insisted they go to midnight mass, and had fallen asleep in church, and all of them got a fit of the giggles because she was snoring. |
| 5639 |
It was hard having her on holidays, she told everyone what to do, and how to do it, and she had her own peculiarities and traditions, and she always gave Liz a hard time about Jamie. She had been horrified when he was born, and called it a tragedy, and still did whenever she had the opportunity, out of Jamie's earshot. |
| 5640 |
Some of the stories Amanda had told her early on had made her shudder. He had browbeaten and terrorized her, so much so that she had waited years to leave him. And now she was just going to have to tough it out while he threatened her, and they got her the kind of support she deserved to get from him. |
| 5641 |
And Jack had to make his famous stuffing. The girls said they wanted to try on their gifts and call their friends. Peter wanted to drop in at Jessica's again, and Jamie made him promise to come back soon so he could help him ride his new bike, and Jack said he was going to drop by the office for a little while. |
| 5642 |
He let himself in with his keys, and left the door open behind him. He unset the alarm, and walked into their office. He knew exactly where the file was, and knew it would take him less than a minute to get it. And he was already on his way back to reset the alarm, when he heard footsteps in the hallway. |
| 5643 |
He couldn't remember. All he wanted was Liz. And as he closed his eyes and lay on the floor, he felt cold and wet, and he could hear a siren in the distance. He wondered if it was Liz, and why she was making so much noise. And then suddenly, he could hear voices all around him, and someone was moving him. |
| 5644 |
All she could see was the cluster of police officers and paramedics hovering around him. The paramedics were working on him, and as she looked behind them, she saw the wall of blood where Phil Parker had shot himself, and she felt dizzy the instant she saw it. His body lay below it, covered by a tarp. |
| 5645 |
They couldn't stop the bleeding, and his blood pressure was dropping uncontrollably. Somebody grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her into the ambulance, the door slammed, and they careened away from the curb, and both paramedics were working frantically over him, and talking tersely to each other. |
| 5646 |
And then they pulled her away from him and someone led her into the hospital, sat her down, and wrapped her in a blanket, and there were strange voices all around her. They brought the gurney into the hospital then, and when she looked up, she saw that they had covered him with a blanket, and his face was covered. |
| 5647 |
She thanked the nurse for the robe and promised to send it back, and then she walked barefoot through the hospital hallway and outside to the police officers waiting for her in the squad car. The nurse at the desk told her to call them when she had made arrangements. Even the word sounded ugly to her. |
| 5648 |
They opened the car door for her, and helped her out when they got there, and offered to come in with her. But she shook her head, and began to sob as Carole walked down the driveway toward her, and Jean drove in at exactly the same moment. And suddenly both women were holding her, and all three of them were sobbing. |
| 5649 |
There was nothing she could tell them but the truth, but she knew that whatever she said now, and however she said it to them, would affect them for their entire lifetimes. It was an awesome burden. And she was still sobbing uncontrollably as Carole returned with the comb and a clean pink terry cloth bathrobe. |
| 5650 |
Liz still couldn't understand it either. "He's at the hospital," but she didn't want to mislead them, she knew that however terrible, she had to tell them, and deliver the blow that they would never forget. Forevermore, they would each have to live with this moment, and relive it a million times in memory. |
| 5651 |
She found him crouched in a corner of his room, curled into a ball, crying, with his arms over his head, as though to shield himself from the blow of her words and the horror of what had happened to them. And with difficulty she picked him up and sat on his bed with him, cradling him as they both cried. |
| 5652 |
Where did one go from here? How did one do this? Liz had no idea what to do now. But inch by inch, piece by piece, bit by bit, she had to do what she was supposed to, and she knew it. She shepherded them all into the kitchen, and she began to sob again when she saw that his coffee cup was still there, and his napkin. |
| 5653 |
Did he want to be cremated or buried? They had never talked about it, and Liz felt sick as they did now. There was so much to think about and do. Hideous details to be coped with. The obituary had to be written, the minister called, the casket chosen, all of it so grim, so unbelievable, so terrifying. |
| 5654 |
She was an attorney too, though she had given up her practice five years before, to stay home with her three children. She had had triplets through in vitro, after years of trying, and decided she wanted to stay home with them, to enjoy it. Victoria's was the only face Liz could focus on and remember. |
| 5655 |
The outcome was still the same no matter how she turned it around in her mind, no matter how many times she went over what had happened. It was as though saying it would make it come out different this time, but it didn't. All Liz wanted to do was run in and out of her bedroom to check on her children. |
| 5656 |
It was somber and dignified, mahogany, with brass handles and a white velvet lining. The people at the funeral home made it sound as though they were picking out a car for him, and told them of the various alternatives and features, and it was suddenly so horrible that it made Liz want to laugh hysterically. |
| 5657 |
It was the headline in the evening paper, and the kids had watched the story on the news on TV, but Liz had made them turn it off when she saw them watching. And as they talked about arrangements for the funeral at the dinner table after the kids went back upstairs, the doorbell rang, and Carole an swered it. |
| 5658 |
It really was a nightmare that would live on for them forever. The children would never again put up a Christmas tree, or hear a Christmas carol, or open a gift without remembering what had happened to their father on Christmas morning, and what it had been like for each of them right after it happened. |
| 5659 |
There was no point fighting with her on top of everything else. They had enough to worry about now, without adding family feuds into the bargain. Jack hadn't been close to his brother either, but at least he was there, and it was nice for the children to see him, Jack's parents, and her mother and brother. |
| 5660 |
Everyone had free advice to give, and an endless stream of opinions. She was already exhausted from listening to them. But all it boiled down to in the end was that Jack was gone, and she was on her own now. She didn't fall asleep until five o'clock that morning, and Victoria lay awake and let her talk all night. |
| 5661 |
Victoria came to get her after a while, they went out to get something to eat, but Liz couldn't eat anything. The children were talking by then, and Peter teased the girls to cheer them up, and kept an eye on his mother as he sat next to Jamie and told him to eat his hamburger. They had all suddenly grown up overnight. |
| 5662 |
Monday dawned with dazzling sunshine, and she went back to the funeral home before the funeral, to be alone with him. She had decided not to see him, and was agonized over it. She felt as though it was something she ought to do, but she knew she just couldn't. She didn't want to remember him that way. |
| 5663 |
And all Liz could think of was leaving him at the cemetery. She had left a single red rose on his casket for him, and then kissed the box, and walked away, holding Jamie's hand with Peter's arm around her. It was a moment of such blinding pain that she knew that never in her entire lifetime would she forget it. |
| 5664 |
Just thinking of her made Liz ache for her children and what they had been through that day. They had lost both a mother and a father. She had called the house and spoken to Amanda's sister that afternoon and told her how sorry she was. They had both cried, and the Parker family had sent her and the children flowers. |
| 5665 |
Victoria called her late that night to see how she was, and she said she was fine, but neither of them believed it, and Liz lay in bed, wide awake, and crying most of the night, until six o'clock the next morning. Her mother left on schedule, and then she and the children were alone, roaming aimlessly around the house. |
| 5666 |
Life stretched ahead of her like an endless empty strip of road now, with nothing but responsibilities and burdens, and things she would have to do alone. The next week crawled by, the kids were still home from school for the Christmas holiday. On Sunday they went to church. He had been gone for ten days by then. |
| 5667 |
Ten days. Days, only hours and moments. It still felt like a nightmare. And on Monday morning, she got up and cooked them breakfast. Peter drove himself to school, and she took the girls to their school nearby, and then drove Jamie to his special school, but he hesitated for a long time before he got out of the car. |
| 5668 |
She couldn't help wondering if they would all feel like this forever, or for a very long time at least. It was hard to imagine feeling good again, or laughing, or making noise, or being loud, or feeling their hearts light. This seemed like a burden they would carry with them forever, or at least she knew she would. |
| 5669 |
If not, she would be continuing with their work, and doing the best possible job for them. And to those who had sent her letters and flowers, she thanked them for their expressions of sympathy. The letter was direct and to the point, and both she and Jean suspected that most of their clients would stick with her. |
| 5670 |
She took his briefcase home with her, chock full of files she wanted to read before morning. And she still had the two court appearances to prepare for. The house was silent when she got in, unusually so, she actually wondered if anyone was home, and then she saw Jamie sitting quietly with Carole in the kitchen. |
| 5671 |
It got her where she wanted to go, and she picked the children up from school in it. There was Jack's car now too, a new Lexus he had splurged on that year, but Liz didn't have the heart to drive it herself or sell it. Maybe they'd just keep it. She couldn't bear the thought of disposing of his things. |
| 5672 |
She couldn't bear to part with any of his belongings, and had no intention of giving away anything. She still needed to keep his things near her. Several people had told her to get rid of everything as soon as possible, and she had thanked them for their concern, and had every intention of ignoring what they told her. |
| 5673 |
Only Peter had made a vague effort to eat anything, and even he wasn't up to his usual standards. He usually had seconds of everything, and ice cream on whatever was served for dessert, regardless of what it was. But no one could eat, and they looked relieved when their mother asked them how their day was. |
| 5674 |
The house had never been as quiet. They were all in their rooms with their doors closed, there was no sound of music blaring from within, and the phone hardly rang. Liz kissed them all good night when they went to bed, even Peter, and they hugged each other for a long time without words. There was nothing left to say. |
| 5675 |
There was no joy left in their life. Only the unbearable agony of losing him, and the gaping hole he had left, which was only filled with the pain of missing him. It was still a physical ache for all of them, and especially for her, as she lay awake again all night, crying for him, and holding on to Jamie. |
| 5676 |
By Valentine's Day, Jack had been gone for seven weeks, and the kids were starting to feel better. Liz had talked to the girls' school psychologist, who had given her the mixed blessing of telling her that somewhere around six to eight weeks, the kids would turn the corner, and start to be happier again. |
| 5677 |
She had to appear in court for clients twice that day, and she was finding it harder and harder to do that. Her clients' animosity toward the spouses they were divorcing seemed unnecessarily venomous to her, and the cruel tricks they pulled on each other and wanted her to pull on their behalf seemed so pointless. |
| 5678 |
He wasn't greedy, but he was practical, and they had five kids to support. They made a good living in family law, and it was difficult to ignore that. But she was reminded again of how much she hated it on the afternoon of Valentine's Day when she walked out of court having won some minor point for one of her clients. |
| 5679 |
She had allowed herself to get talked into filing a motion against the woman's ex husband more for its nuisance value than for any real legal reason, and the judge had correctly scolded her for it, but granted the motion. The victory was hollow for her as a result, and she felt stupid as she drove back to the office. |
| 5680 |
She realized that all the times she had told people who had lost someone how sorry she was, she hadn't been able to dream, for a single instant, of what it meant to them, or what it felt like. She told the children about the accident that night, and they looked frightened, they were clearly worried about her. |
| 5681 |
There was laughter at the dinner table again, they played their music as loud as they ever had, and although their faces were still too serious from time to time, she knew that they had turned the corner. But her nights were still long and dark and lonely, and her days filled with stress at the office. |
| 5682 |
She had a crush on a boy close to home, and didn't even want to think about going away that summer. Peter already had a summer job lined up, at a nearby veterinary hospital, which wasn't a career path for him, but at least it would keep him busy. And all she had to do was organize the three girls and Jamie. |
| 5683 |
But it was familiar at least. Jack would have had a fit over it, and made her turn it off. But Liz didn't. She knew it was a good sign, and they needed all the good signs they could grab now. There had been damn few of them in the past three and a half months, but things were slowly beginning to look up. |
| 5684 |
Carole had covered for her before that. But ever since Easter, she felt as though she had reconnected with her children. Her mother was still calling regularly to check on her, but even her predictions of doom didn't seem quite as ominous. It was beginning to seem as though they were going to make it after all. |
| 5685 |
The kids were in good shape. The summer was off to a reasonable start. And she still missed jack, but she could get through the days, and even the nights now. She didn't sleep as well as she once had, but she was asleep by two now instead of five, and most of the time, she was in fairly decent spirits. |
| 5686 |
It was comforting to still see his clothes hanging in his closet. Sometimes she'd let herself touch a sleeve wistfully, or sniff the cologne that still lingered on his collars. She had finally put his shaving gear away, and thrown away his toothbrush. But she couldn't bring herself to do more than that. |
| 5687 |
There was so much about family law that she didn't like, so many of the battles that seemed unimportant to her. And dealing with people who hated each other, were so willing to hit below the belt and hurt each other, and constantly cause each other trouble and pain, was beginning to depress her, and Jean knew that. |
| 5688 |
She wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, but the constant irritations of dealing with divorce had begun to bore her. But no one would have guessed that when she walked into court that afternoon. As usual, she was well prepared, totally organized, and fought valiantly for her client, and easily won the motion. |
| 5689 |
She was carrying on all of Jack's traditions, holding high the standard of his memory, for her clients, herself, and her children. It was obvious she didn't want anything to change, and so far, it hadn't. Every minute piece of her life was still in exactly the same place it had been before she lost her husband. |
| 5690 |
And when she got home, Jamie was waiting for her. She ran into the house, changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, and running shoes, and five minutes later, she was back outside again, and going over the running long jump with Jamie. The first time he tried it, his performance was pretty unimpressive, and he knew it. |
| 5691 |
He took a bath and went to bed right after dinner. He had to get up early for day camp, and she had some work to do. She took her briefcase upstairs and kissed him good night, and then set her briefcase down in her bedroom, and walked into her closet. They had a big walk in closet that Jack had built for them. |
| 5692 |
For once, she just didn't feel like working. Doing what she had just done, trying to hold on to Jack, by clinging to his clothes, and smelling his cologne on them, always made her feel worse after the initial indulgence. The positive aspects only lasted for a few seconds. But she only missed him more afterwards. |
| 5693 |
Liz knew she was going to miss her while she was at camp, but they deserved to get away and have a good time. They all did. Peter went to his own room then, and in her room, Liz sat down on her bed and spread out her papers. She was still working long after Peter had gone to bed. She always worked late now. |
| 5694 |
In its own way, it was a pleasant treadmill. Kids, work, kids, work, sleep, and then the same routine all over again. For the moment, it was all she had, and all she wanted. By the time camp was over for the girls, Jamie had picked up a lot of speed on his dashes, and improved his distance on the running long jump. |
| 5695 |
He was absolutely soaked by the time they left and got in the car to drive home. Liz had to wrap him in towels so he didn't catch cold, and he was ecstatic about the day. The Special Olympics were scheduled for the following weekend. Liz trained every night with him, and all morning the day before the event. |
| 5696 |
Liz was carrying jack's video camera, and wearing her Nikon. They checked in at the gate of the fairgrounds, and Jamie was given a number. There were children like him everywhere, and many far more challenged than he, many of them seemed severely afflicted, and there were endless numbers of kids in wheelchairs. |
| 5697 |
But she wanted him to win this time, for himself, for Jack, and to prove that things were still all right, that he could live on without his father. Jamie needed this even more than the others, and maybe in some small way, she did also. She watched, holding her breath as he approached the finish line. |
| 5698 |
The ribbon had snapped across his chest, and he was panting at the other end, and looking around wildly for her as the official "hugger" gave Jamie a big hug and congratulated him. There were scores of volunteers who did just that. Liz ran to him as fast as she could, and he threw his arms around her when he saw her. |
| 5699 |
And as she looked around the empty room, she could almost feel him. It was a presence, and a force, and a love that was not easily forgotten. "Thank you," she said softly as she turned on the light, but she no longer expected to see him, or him to come back. But what he had left her with was infinitely precious. |
| 5700 |
It was a rambling old house they'd borrowed from him before. His wife didn't like Tahoe, his kids were grown, and they seldom used it. And it was perfect for Liz and the children. It had a wide, sheltered porch, and you could see the lake from most of the bedrooms. It was surrounded by five acres of land. |
| 5701 |
And half an hour later, they were all jumping off the nearby dock, shivering in the cold water. But that was part of the fun of it, and Liz had arranged for them to go water skiing the next morning. She cooked dinner for them that night, and Peter helped with the barbecue. His father had taught him how to do it. |
| 5702 |
And after awhile, Annie told a funny story about their father. Liz smiled as she listened, and it reminded her of another time, and another story. She told it, and they all laughed, and then Rachel reminded them of when Dad had accidentally locked himself into a cabin they'd rented and had to climb out the window. |
| 5703 |
It was a way of bringing him back to them, in a way they could all tolerate now. The months that had passed had taken the edge off the pain for them, and left them with not just the tears, but the laughter. And when they all finally went upstairs to go to bed, Liz felt better than she had in months. |
| 5704 |
She still missed him, but she wasn't quite as sad, and they were all happy to be there. It was a vacation they all needed, and she was glad that Peter had managed to get the time off to come with them. He was doing such a good job at the pet hospital that they had given him the week off and told him to enjoy it. |
| 5705 |
It was an easy, happy time for all of them, and they slept on the porch one night in sleeping bags, and looked up at the stars. It was a perfect vacation. And when they packed their things at the end of the week, they were all genuinely sorry to leave, and made Liz promise to do it again that summer. |
| 5706 |
But Liz liked knowing where they were, and that their friends were welcome to visit. Carole had cooked a delicious dinner for them, and when they went to bed that night, they were happy to be home, and full of stories of the lake to tell her. And Liz still looked relaxed when she left for work the next morning. |
| 5707 |
It lasted for all of about ten minutes. The stacks of work and files on her desk had multiplied dramatically while she was gone, and there were more phone messages than she had ever seen waiting for her. She was handling her cases too well. Both clients and other attorneys were constantly referring new cases to her. |
| 5708 |
She just couldn't. She drove to the hospital as fast as she could without running lights or hitting pedestrians, and she pulled into the parking lot shortly after they rushed Peter into the emergency room. They had taken him straight to the trauma unit, and they directed Liz to it as soon as she got there. |
| 5709 |
He hurried away again, to call a neurosurgeon he wanted available if needed, and a nurse came to ask her if she wanted coffee. "No, thanks, I'm fine," she said softly, but it was obvious that she wasn't. She looked as desperate as she felt, as worried about her son as she had once been about her husband. |
| 5710 |
The doctor noticed at the same time however that hers wasn't, but he didn't say anything about it. She looked awful. And he mellowed a little bit this time as he spoke to her, but not much. He only asked if she had called the boy's father, and she shook her head, and didn't offer to explain it to him. |
| 5711 |
All she could do was pray now that Peter would not join his father. She was praying that the doctor could prevent that. "I'm sorry," he said, and disappeared again, as she looked intently at her son, and although she would have died before she told anyone, she was beginning to feel the room spin slowly around her. |
| 5712 |
She couldn't lose him. Couldn't. She wouldn't let him leave them. She put her head down as far as she could, and felt better, and then went back to talking quietly to Peter. And as though he had heard her prayers, he moved ever so slowly, and tried to turn his head, but they had put a neck brace on him and he couldn't. |
| 5713 |
The girls were sitting at the kitchen table, crying, and Jamie was sitting on Carole's lap, looking exhausted and pale. They looked like orphans from a war zone, and they jumped at her the minute she walked in the door, trying to read her face, but she was smiling, although she looked worn out and disheveled. |
| 5714 |
It had looked so terrifying all afternoon. Liz felt as though she'd been hit by an express train as she thought of it, and she looked as though she had, as Carole's heart went out to her. Liz walked slowly upstairs, and went in to kiss Jamie good night, but he was already sound asleep, and the girls were in bed. |
| 5715 |
All she could think of was what had nearly happened, and all she could do was sob with relief. It was after eleven when she finally packed her bag, and midnight when she got back to the hospital to see him. She had delayed for a few minutes to call her mother, who was horrified about Peter's accident when Liz told her. |
| 5716 |
His vital signs were good, and he was talking up a storm. She was just drifting off to sleep when she saw Bill Webster walk into the room, and she sat bolt upright in panic, with her heart pounding as she looked at him. He had changed his green scrubs for gray ones. It was not a particularly attractive costume. |
| 5717 |
For once, the fates had played fair with his patient. He sat back in his chair then, and closed his eyes for a minute. And then he opened them again, and signed the orders they needed from him. He had a long night ahead of him, but he didn't mind. Things had worked out just fine this time, and he was glad. |
| 5718 |
The others were still anxious about him, and the girls had a million questions, but as soon as she got home, Liz realized that Jamie was nowhere to be found. She asked Carole about it, who said that she hadn't seen him since breakfast, and when Liz searched the house, she found him sitting quietly in his room. |
| 5719 |
She went back to Peter then, and stayed with him until he fell asleep, and then she went back to sleep herself on the couch in the waiting room. It was dark in the room, but she was still awake when Bill opened the door and looked in at her. He couldn't see if she was sleeping, and he was afraid to disturb her. |
| 5720 |
Our divorce was pretty bitter. She had an affair with my chief resident, which didn't actually sit well with me. Everybody in the hospital knew it before I did, and felt sorry for me. They got married eventually and have three kids. She gave up medicine during her residency, it was just a hobby for her. |
| 5721 |
She fell asleep finally, dreaming about Jack, and he seemed to be saying something to her. He was pointing at something and trying to warn her, and when she turned, she saw Peter diving neatly off a high diving board, into concrete. She awoke with a feeling of panic, mixed in with the old familiar sadness again. |
| 5722 |
A number of his friends had come by to see him, and they'd brought him something to eat. He and Jessica had broken up in June, so there was no current girlfriend in his life to fuss over him, but he was just happy to see his friends. And Liz finally had a few minutes to call Victoria and her mother too. |
| 5723 |
After dinner at home that night, Liz took a shower and changed, and told Jamie to put his shoes on. She was taking him to see his brother. She had asked the girls to wait one more day, because she knew that the onslaught of their talk and laughter and questions and well intentioned fussing over Peter would exhaust him. |
| 5724 |
Jamie stayed with a neighbor because Liz didn't want him to overdo it, and it was the girls' turn. They laughed and talked and cried, and checked out everything, gave him the news, told him about their romances and friends, and told him how happy they were that he was okay. But Jamie had been right, Liz realized. |
| 5725 |
By the end of the week, they were actually excited about it. They were all going to invite friends, and so was Liz. They had about sixty names on the list, and Liz was looking forward to it. It was the first time she had entertained since Jack died, but it had been eight months and seemed respectable. |
| 5726 |
Most of all, Bill urged her not to let Peter overdo it. He was young, and he'd be straining at the bit once he got home, wanting to see his friends and run around with them. But otherwise, Bill thought he'd be fine, and have no residual effect of the accident, once he finished his therapy, which would be by Christmas. |
| 5727 |
And in spite of the fact that she was hard at work, she was smiling, and looked very pretty. Her hair had grown over the summer, and she was wearing it long on her shoulders. And as though sensing Bill watching her, she looked up, and saw him. She waved a spatula toward him, and he approached slowly, followed by Jamie. |
| 5728 |
She had noticed that he was at the hospital constantly when Peter was there, which made it even nicer that he had come to her party. "What do you do with your spare time when you're not working and chasing kids?" He looked at her with interest as he asked the question and she laughed as she answered. |
| 5729 |
And maybe they'd never do it after all. Liz told herself it wasn't worth mentioning to Victoria, and then moved on to check on her other guests. The party went on for hours, and it was after eleven when the last guests went home. The food had been good, the wine plentiful, and the people pleasant and happy. |
| 5730 |
They'd all had a good time, and as the kids helped her clean up and carry the stray glasses inside, she was glad she had done it. She was helping Carole load the dishwasher when the phone rang, and she glanced at the clock in surprise, it was after midnight, and she couldn't imagine who would call them. |
| 5731 |
He was a terrific kid, and despite his challenges, he only took a little more care and attention than the others. She had to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt himself, or do something dangerous, or get lost. "I think you've got some funny ideas about kids," she said as they drove along. |
| 5732 |
He obviously had very strong opinions on the subject. And she felt sorry for him. He had deprived himself of a way of life she cherished. She wouldn't have given up the years of her marriage for anything, and certainly not her children. Without them, she knew her life would be empty, as she suspected his was. |
| 5733 |
Instead, their conversation turned to films. He had very eclectic tastes, he liked foreign films, and arty movies, as well as some big commercial ones. She admitted that she enjoyed the kind of movies she saw with her children, they were all very commercial films, and in Peter's case, action movies. |
| 5734 |
He had to be at the hospital at six, and she was touched that he had stayed out so late with her. It was after eleven o'clock, and more likely than not, he'd be tired in the morning. She apologized to him for it and he smiled. "I think you're worth it." She was surprised by his words, but she was glad he said them. |
| 5735 |
There had been just enough of an undercurrent of mutual admiration. They didn't want anything from each other, they just liked each other, and they'd had a good time. Even if she never heard from him again, Liz told herself, it was nice being with him, and feeling like a woman, and not just a mother. |
| 5736 |
It was nice being with someone who wanted her to have a good time, and was interested in talking and listening to her. She sent Megan and Peter off to bed then, and went to bed herself. Jamie was already in her bed, waiting for her. He still slept with her sometimes, and it was nice being in bed with him too. |
| 5737 |
She had reported the parents to child protective services, and they had discovered she was right. In some ways, it presented a moral dilemma for her, and she wished that she could represent the child and not the parents. "Why can't you?" he asked matter of factly. It seemed so simple to him, but for her it wasn't. |
| 5738 |
Turns out the father was beating the child, and he had brain damaged her by the time she got to me. There wasn't a hell of a lot we could do about it. They took the child away from them, once she got out of the hospital, but she begged the judge to go back to them. I was afraid the father would kill her. |
| 5739 |
But she liked him in spite of it. And every now and then, when he said things like that, she felt sorry for him. His life, and philosophies, were everything hers weren't. Everything about her life was long term and deeply involved. There were clients who stayed in touch with her for years after their divorces. |
| 5740 |
It was just a difference in style, and clearly, she and Bill Webster were very different. But it was equally clear that they liked each other. It was late again when he left that night. He sat and talked to her till nearly one o'clock, and he was sorry when he left that he couldn't stay longer to talk to her. |
| 5741 |
And she thought Peter's comment interesting, as she mulled it over on her way to work. Would Jack have been dating by then if she had died instead? She had never thought about it, but she suspected he might. He had a healthy attitude about life, and too much joie de vivre to get buried in a closet, mourning her. |
| 5742 |
He called her in the office that day, and asked her to go to the movies with him again the following weekend. They seemed to be seeing a lot of each other suddenly, and she didn't mind. She enjoyed him. And this time when he came to take her out, Jamie let him in, and brought him up to date on the situation. |
| 5743 |
For a flash of an instant, kissing him made her think of Jack, and she almost felt as though she were cheating on him. She wasn't hungry for a man, she hadn't been looking for anyone, but Bill Webster had walked into her life, and now she had to deal with her feelings about him, and her late husband. |
| 5744 |
It was nice to be out in the fresh air, and not within earshot of her children. It would have made her uncomfortable if they had been aware of what had just happened. And as though to reinforce what they had both felt that night, he kissed her again, and this time she kissed him back with greater fervor. |
| 5745 |
There were a great many things they liked about each other, although they had already agreed that they were very different. He liked fleeting relationships of all kinds, and everything in her life was based on permanence, marriage, children, career, even her two employees had worked for her for years. |
| 5746 |
But he's gone, she told herself, and he was never coming back. But then why did it feel so strange to be kissing Bill, and so wrong, and at the same time so exciting? It unnerved her as she thought about it, and she lay awake for a long time that night, thinking about him, and Jack, and wondering what she was doing. |
| 5747 |
She certainly wasn't going to let it go further than that, for her own sake, not her children's. He arrived at six o'clock on Saturday night, as promised, with three bags of groceries. He said he was going to cook them southern fried chicken, corn on the cob, and baked potatoes. He had brought some ice cream bars too. |
| 5748 |
And as he buzzed around her kitchen, he wouldn't let her help him. "You relax," he told her. He handed her a glass of wine, poured one for himself, and proceeded to cook them an excellent dinner. Even the girls were surprised and pleased when they ate it, although Megan continued to refuse to speak to him. |
| 5749 |
Why did they have to give her time? Surely he was not going to stick around long enough for it to matter. But that was not what he had been hinting. He kissed her again that night, after all the kids went to bed, and it made her nervous to kiss him in her house. This was getting very cozy, and a little too familiar. |
| 5750 |
Megan was poised for attack, the other girls were unsure, and more than anything, Liz had her own emotions to deal with, her concerns about Bill, and his propensity for temporary attachments, by his own admission, and her sense of loyalty to Jack, which was being severely challenged by her feelings for Bill Webster. |
| 5751 |
Not all parents were as attentive as she was, in fact few were. And she was attentive to Bill too, always asking him questions about his work, and concerned about him, and the challenges and stresses he faced daily. When he was with her, he was always aware of how much she cared about him, sometimes more than she was. |
| 5752 |
It still had too many implications. It wasn't a coincidence when, the following week, early on a Saturday morning, after they came back from L.A., she stood quietly on Jack's side of their closet, looking at the jackets that still hung there. They looked lifeless now, and sad, and it depressed her to see them. |
| 5753 |
It had been ten months since Jack died, and she was ready. And one by one she took the jackets off the hangers, and folded them in a neat pile. She would have offered them to Peter, but he was too tall and too young to wear them, and it was easier to dispose of them than to see someone else wear them. |
| 5754 |
Megan started to cry, and for an instant Liz felt as though she had killed him. Megan stood there staring at the neat piles of his clothes on the floor and sobbed, and as Liz looked at her she started crying, for her children, for him, for herself. But no matter what she hung on to now, they had lost him. |
| 5755 |
There was a look of loss evident in their eyes, and at the very last, Megan came out of her room and looked at her mother. It was obvious that it wasn't easy for Liz either, and then, as a silent move of support for her, each of the children picked something up, a box, a bag, a coat, and carried it to the car. |
| 5756 |
They had all calmed down after the sorrow of the morning. And only Liz was left with her memories, and her sense of loss. The others seemed to have come to terms with it long before she had. The next day when he called, she sounded more herself again, and he was pleased when she agreed to see him that evening. |
| 5757 |
Neither of them had come to terms with it, or figured out what it meant for their future, but Bill was obviously in love with her, and although she didn't admit it to him yet, she knew that she loved him. It was a dilemma for her, because she didn't know what to do about it, or what to tell her children. |
| 5758 |
She hesitated for a long time, and he was suddenly terrified that he had ruined everything, but they had been dating for two months, and their passion had become harder and harder to restrain. He knew that he hadn't misinterpreted what she felt for him, and his own feelings were clear, at least to him. |
| 5759 |
Although Peter and Jamie might have been pleased to know they were going away together, the girls most certainly wouldn't. There was still plenty of resistance among them being generated by Megan. She was civil to him by then, but barely more than that, and there was no reason to antagonize her further. |
| 5760 |
Liz was quiet from time to time, and he didn't want to ask her what she was thinking. He knew that being with him was still an adjustment for her, and she had told him more than once that there were times when she felt as though she were betraying Jack. He knew that in some ways, this weekend wouldn't be easy for her. |
| 5761 |
It was a kiss that told her everything she meant to him, and within minutes, they were both swept away by their passion for each other. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, the lights were low, and Bill lit the candles on the coffee table, and then they sat down on the couch with their arms around each other. |
| 5762 |
He wasn't wounded or upset because she admitted that it wasn't easy for her. They lay side by side in bed for a long time, talking about things, and he admitted that he had never loved anyone as he loved her. And she lay peacefully beside him, enjoying being with him, and trying to force herself not to think of Jack. |
| 5763 |
But it was hard not to think of him, and Bill was sensitive to her feelings. As the weekend unfolded, she was less and less aware of Jack, and more and more aware of Bill and all that she shared with him. They went for long walks, and talked about a variety of things, their work, her children, their dreams. |
| 5764 |
He was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, and she was wearing a cozy wool bathrobe in the cool November morning. The day was warm, and it was pleasant just sitting there, basking in the sun, as they shared the paper. And when Liz glanced up at him and handed him the sports section, he was smiling at her. |
| 5765 |
They drove slowly back to Tiburon that afternoon, and the children were all home when they arrived. She could see Megan raise an eyebrow when she got out of Bill's car, but nothing was said until later that evening, when the younger children were in bed and Peter was busy doing his homework in his room. |
| 5766 |
Peter noticed it the next morning, but said nothing to his mother or the others, although it even made him sad to see it. But for the next two weeks, whenever Bill came to pick Liz up, Megan was a little more respectful. She didn't say much to him, but she wasn't rude to him either, and Liz was grateful. |
| 5767 |
She had a strong respect for his work, more than for her own these days. She had told him more than once that her family law practice depressed her. She no longer seemed to enjoy what she was doing. It had been fun with Jack, but it wasn't anymore. It seemed frivolous and argumentative and so pointless. |
| 5768 |
Her clients would have been stunned by what she was saying. She was always so full of energy, bright ideas and creative suggestions. But lately, she felt like a windup doll whose batteries had run down. She didn't enjoy it anymore, and she wasn't happy. But she felt she owed it to Jack to keep going, for him. |
| 5769 |
And in the end, she didn't say anything to Bill about their reaction. She just hoped they'd settle down, and be good sports when the day came, but she realized on Thanksgiving Day that her optimism had been unfounded. When the doorbell rang and he arrived, all three girls were still very angry with her. |
| 5770 |
It looked too good to waste, and no one else could think about eating. "So much for family holidays," Bill said with a grim look, as Liz looked at him in devastation. She realized now that she had been ambitious in inviting him, and including him in the family wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped. |
| 5771 |
It was the anniversary of Jack's death, and she realized that under no circumstances could she include Bill in what they were doing. The Thanksgiving they had just experienced had taught her a painful lesson. She and Jamie cleared the rest of the table then, and afterwards she went upstairs to talk to her daughters. |
| 5772 |
And as she lay there, she started to cry as she thought of her husband and how much she missed him. He had left a huge hole behind, and sometimes it seemed like there was no way to fill it. She loved Bill, but not the way she had loved her husband. At least not yet, but she thought she might someday. |
| 5773 |
The phone rang while she was still lying there in the dark, and she reached out a hand to answer it, without turning the light on. It was Bill, and he sounded stressed. He didn't sound any better than he had when he left. In fact, he sounded slightly worse, but he said there was something he had to tell her. |
| 5774 |
And all she could think of were the waves of panic that had engulfed her when Jack died. And now she was losing Bill. She had barely had time to get used to him, to let him into her heart, but he was lodged there in spite of it, and now he was prying himself out. It was over. In one fell swoop, she had lost him. |
| 5775 |
And it was too much for him. They were incredibly rude actually, but apparently that was all he needed to convince him that it was all a big mistake, and our romance was the result of temporary insanity. Two weeks ago, he asked me to marry him on Valentine's Day. But we never made it through Thanksgiving. |
| 5776 |
And hating herself for it, she paged him. He called her back finally, after a few hours, and said he'd been tied up with an emergency, but his voice was distant and very chilly. "I just wanted to see if you were okay," she said, trying to sound light hearted, but he clearly had no interest in pursuing a conversation. |
| 5777 |
She stayed in her room most of the time, and they didn't entertain friends. She turned down all the invitations to Christmas parties. She even decided not to have her mother come out, and told her she wanted to be alone with her children, and although her mother had sounded hurt, she said she understood it. |
| 5778 |
But at least Liz felt she hadn't jeopardized her client or her son when she went home that night, and the kids finally seemed in better spirits. It had been the last day of school that day, and Carole had promised to take the four younger ones skating. Peter and his new girlfriend had a date for dinner and a movie. |
| 5779 |
The voice on the other end was hysterical, and it took her a minute to recognize it. It was the client she had seen that afternoon, for whom she had scheduled the mediation. And to give her a sense of security, she had given her her home phone number. The woman's name was Helene, and she sounded nearly incoherent. |
| 5780 |
The child, and his mother, had been very lucky. But sitting in the hospital with her, as they waited, reminded her of Bill again. She wondered how he was, and what he was doing. She knew there was no point thinking about it anymore, it had been more than three weeks now, and she knew he wasn't going to call her. |
| 5781 |
He was still sedated, and his legs were bandaged to the hip and he looked like a little rag doll as he lay there, but the doctor said he'd be as good as new eventually, and in six months or a year, they'd take the pins out. Helene cried as she listened to him, but she was calmer than she'd been when Liz had arrived. |
| 5782 |
And the next morning when she got to the office, she called the court and set a date for a hearing. She called Helene at the hospital to tell her. Helene said Justin was all right, and he'd be going home with her in a few days, but when Liz told her about the court date, she said quietly that they didn't need one. |
| 5783 |
It was a little different. Jamie was obviously in pain when she arrived, and screamed every time one of the nurses tried to touch him, and it made Liz feel sick when she looked at the way his arm was sticking out. There was no doubt about the fact that it was broken. The only question was how badly. |
| 5784 |
All kids did. And Jamie was a little less sensible and less steady than most boys his age, for obvious reasons. Liz tried fruitlessly to calm him down, but he was screaming so loud he couldn't even hear her. He was in so much pain, he just sat on the gurney shrinking from all of them, and wouldn't let her hold him. |
| 5785 |
There was nothing left to say anyway. It had been a month since she'd seen him, and it felt like aeons. She still cried herself to sleep at night over him, but there was no way for him to know that. It was over an hour before they returned, and when they did, Jamie was still groggy, and Bill was still with him. |
| 5786 |
And it was obvious that they felt awkward with each other. He looked as though he had lost weight too, and he seemed pale and tired, but Christmas was busy for him. There were lots of drunk drivers and broken hips and traumas she couldn't even dream of, like what had happened to Justin, and now Jamie. |
| 5787 |
He had everyone sign it then, including Carole and his mother. Liz watched him, feeling as though she'd been trapped in a whirlpool all afternoon, with her own emotions whirling all around her. It had been hard seeing Bill, but it was nice too. It was so tantalizing, she had wanted to just reach out and touch him. |
| 5788 |
Or worse yet, tell him she loved him. But she knew that that would have been crazy. He was as far out of her life now as Jack was. She went to the cemetery to leave flowers for her husband the next day. And she stood there for a long time, thinking of the years they had shared, and the good times they'd had. |
| 5789 |
It still seemed so unfair. She stood at his grave for a long time, and cried for what they had lost and what he was missing. He would never see his children grow up, or his grandchildren, he wouldn't grow old with her. Everything had stopped, and now they had to go on without him. It was all so very hard. |
| 5790 |
And then, as she reeled from the blow of her memories, she remembered the horror of their last Christmas morning, watching him lie dying on their office floor with no way to stop the nightmare that befell them. She walked around in a fog all day, crying all the time, and unable to stop, and the children were no better. |
| 5791 |
But for the rest of the day, the phone was silent. And at the end of the day, Liz took them all to a movie. They were as sad as she was, and they needed some distraction. They went to see a comedy, and the kids laughed, but Liz didn't. She felt as though there were nothing left in her life to laugh at. |
| 5792 |
It was all tragedy and loss, and people who had died or walked away. She soaked in a hot bath after they got home, and just lay there for a long time, thinking of how fast the year had gone and how much had been in it, and in spite of herself, she couldn't help wondering where Bill was. He was probably working. |
| 5793 |
He had always said he hated holidays, that they were for people with families, and he had opted not to have one, after his taste of it at Thanksgiving, although she wasn't entirely sure she blamed him. But she thought he could at least have given it another chance. If he'd been brave enough, which he wasn't. |
| 5794 |
She knew she had to face the fact now that he just didn't want it. He liked the life he had, and he was good at it. She lay in the tub thinking of how kind he'd been to Jamie. He was a terrific doctor, and a decent man. She went to bed alone that night, just after midnight. Jamie was sleeping in his own room. |
| 5795 |
They had stayed close to each other all day, like survivors in the water, clinging to a single life raft. It had been a Christmas they would always remember, not as bad as the last one, but nearly as painful in its own way. All she wanted to do now was go to sleep, and wake up when the holidays were over. |
| 5796 |
She was in such a dead sleep as she reached out for it, that it took her a while to find it, but no one else in the house answered either. "Hello?" Her voice was muffled by the sheets, and she sounded groggy, and the person who had called her hesitated for a long moment. She was about to hang up when he finally spoke. |
| 5797 |
But she loved him, and she knew it, as she looked at him. She had known it for months, she just hadn't been ready before. "It's for Jamie," he said simply, setting the kite down in her hallway, and then he stood looking down at her, with everything he felt for her in his eyes. He didn't even have to say it. |
| 5798 |
It was the house she and Gordon had lived in for the past twenty years, and both her children had been born there. It had been built in the eighteenth century, and had tall, imposing bronze doors on the street that led to the inner courtyard. The house itself was built in a U shape around the courtyard. |
| 5799 |
And a number of them had been her parents'. Everything in the house shone, the wood was perfectly oiled, the silver polished, the crystal sconces on the walls sparkled in the bright June sun that filtered through the curtains into her bedroom. Isabelle turned from the view of her rose garden with a small sigh. |
| 5800 |
She was eighteen years old and going to university in the fall. It was Isabelle's son, Theodore, who kept her at home, and had for fourteen years now. Born three months premature, he had been badly damaged at birth, and as a result, his lungs had not developed properly, which in turn had weakened his heart. |
| 5801 |
Her only forays into the world in recent years were in the evening, with Gordon, and only rarely. Her entire mission in life was keeping Teddy alive, and happy. It had taken time and attention away from his sister, Sophie, over the years, but she seemed to understand it, and Isabelle was always loving to her. |
| 5802 |
Gordon had told her that William Robinson had been responsible for putting the last president in the Oval Office. He had inherited a vast, almost immeasurable fortune, and had been drawn to politics and the power it afforded him since his youth. It suited him, and he in fact preferred to remain behind the scenes. |
| 5803 |
When Gordon explained Bill's circumstances to her, it seemed hard to believe that he was either as wealthy or as powerful as he was. Bill was enormously unassuming and discreet, and she had instantly liked that about him. He was easygoing, and looked surprisingly young, and he had a quick sense of humor. |
| 5804 |
Bill had been fascinated by her stories, just as she was by his, and over the next months, an odd but comfortable friendship had formed between them, via telephone and letters. She had found some rare art books to send to him, and the next time he came to Paris, he called her and asked if he could take her to lunch. |
| 5805 |
Their friendship had begun nearly four years before, and Teddy was ten then. And over time, their friendship had flourished. He called from time to time, at odd hours for him, when he was working late, and it was early morning for her. She had told him that she got up at five to tend to Teddy every morning. |
| 5806 |
But she had had her own concerns about Gordon objecting to Bill's calls. She had mentioned the first art books he sent when they arrived, and Gordon looked startled but said nothing. He evidenced no particular interest in Bill's sending them to her, and she said nothing to him about the phone calls. |
| 5807 |
Bill called every few weeks at first, and then slowly the calls began to come more often. They had lunch again a year after they had met. And once, when Gordon was away, Bill took her to dinner. They dined at a quiet bistro near the house, and she was stunned to realize, when she got home, that it was after midnight. |
| 5808 |
She felt like a wilted flower soaking up the sun and the rain. The things they talked about fed her soul, and his calls and rare visits sustained her. With the exception of her children, Isabelle had no one to talk to. Gordon was the head of the largest American investment bank in Paris, and had been for years. |
| 5809 |
Gordon blocked him out, and put all his energies into his work, as he had for years, and removed himself as much as possible from life at home, particularly his wife. The only member of his family he seemed even slightly drawn to was Sophie. Her character was far more similar to his than to her mother's. |
| 5810 |
She had often suspected that he not only associated Teddy's illness with her, but blamed her for it, although the doctors had reassured her that his infirmities and premature birth had not been her fault. She and Gordon never actually discussed it, and there was no way to acquit herself of his silent accusations. |
| 5811 |
It was as though just seeing Isabelle reminded Gordon of the child's sickroom, and just as he had rejected his son from birth, out of a horror of his defects and illness, he had eventually rejected Isabelle as well. He had put up a wall between himself and his wife to shut out the images of illness he detested. |
| 5812 |
Gordon had always been cool and businesslike by nature. He was said to be ruthless in business, and not a warm person in any aspect of his life, but in spite of that, he had been affectionate with her at first. His standoffishness had almost seemed like a challenge to her, and was unfamiliar to her. |
| 5813 |
She had been very young then, and intrigued by him. He seemed so competent, and so powerful in her eyes, and in many ways impressive. He was a man in total control of every aspect of his world. And there had been much about Isabelle that Gordon had liked, and which had reassured him that she would make a perfect wife. |
| 5814 |
Marrying her had increased his stature socially, which was an important factor for him. She was the perfect accessory to enhance both his standing and his career. And in addition to the appeal of her pedigree, there had been a childlike innocence about her that had briefly opened the door to his heart. |
| 5815 |
By the time Isabelle met Bill Robinson, she was a lonely woman standing vigil over a desperately ill child, with a husband who seldom even spoke to her, and leading an unusually isolated life. Bill's voice was sometimes the only contact she had with another adult all day, other than Teddy's doctor, or his nurse. |
| 5816 |
And it tore at Bill's heart knowing what Isabelle went through, and would have to face someday. Over the next few years, their friendship had deepened. They spoke on the phone frequently, and Isabelle wrote him long philosophical letters, particularly on the nights she spent awake, sitting at Teddy's bedside. |
| 5817 |
Bill brought her a new view of the world, and they chatted easily and laughed with each other. He spoke to her of his own life at times, the people he knew, the friends he cared about, and once in a while, in spite of himself, he spoke of his wife and two daughters, both of whom were away in college. |
| 5818 |
He had been married since he was twenty two years old, and thirty years later, what he had left was only the shell of a marriage. Cindy, his wife, had come to hate the political world, the people they met, the things Bill had to do, the events they had to go to, and the amount of time he had to travel. |
| 5819 |
And whether or not Bill was part of that life seemed unimportant to her. She had shut him out emotionally years before and led her own life, not without bitterness toward him. She had spent thirty years with him coming and going, and putting political events ahead of everything that mattered to her. |
| 5820 |
He had never been home for graduations and holidays and birthdays. He was always somewhere else, grooming a candidate for a primary or an election. And for the past four years, he had been a constant visitor at the White House. It no longer impressed her, and she was only too happy to tell him how much it bored her. |
| 5821 |
The walls she had erected between them were beyond scaling, and it no longer occurred to him to try. He put his energies into his work, and he talked to Isabelle when he needed a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on, or someone to laugh with. It was to Isabelle that he admitted he was tired or disheartened. |
| 5822 |
She had a gentleness about her that he had never found in his wife. He had liked Cindy's lively spirit, her looks, her energy, and her sense of fun and mischief. She had been so much fun to be with when they were young, and now he wondered, if he disappeared off the face of the earth, if she would even miss him. |
| 5823 |
It no longer seemed to matter to anyone whether or not he was home. He was treated as an unexpected visitor when he arrived from a trip, and he never really felt he belonged there. He was like a man without a country. He felt rootless. And a piece of his heart was tucked away in a house on the rue de Grenelle in Paris. |
| 5824 |
But Bill had noticed for years that when her letters didn't come, he worried, and when she couldn't take his calls, because Teddy was too ill, or she went somewhere with Gordon, he missed her. More than he would have cared to admit. She had become a fixture of sorts to him, someone he could count on and rely on. |
| 5825 |
Charming, intelligent, discreet, affectionate. Her warmth and her light and her almost elfin quality had struck him from the moment they met. For the first time in his life, Gordon believed that he was in love. And the potential social opportunities offered by their alliance were irresistibly appealing to him. |
| 5826 |
Her mother came from an important British banking family, and was distantly related to the queen, and her father was a distinguished French statesman. It was, finally, a match that Gordon thought worthy of him. Her lineage was beyond reproach, and her shy, genteel, unassuming ways suited him to perfection. |
| 5827 |
Isabelle and Gordon were engaged and married within a year. And he was in total command. He made it very clear to her right from the first that he would make all their decisions. And Isabelle came to expect that of him. He had correctly sensed that, because of her youth, she would pose no objections to him. |
| 5828 |
His status was greatly enhanced by his marriage to Isabelle. And he in turn provided a safe, protected life for her. It was only as time went by that she began to notice the restrictions he placed on her. Gordon told her who among her friends he didn't like, who she could see, and who didn't meet with his approval. |
| 5829 |
She was adept and capable, remarkably organized, and entirely willing to follow his directions. It was only later that she began to feel that he was unfair at times, after he had eliminated a number of people she liked from their social circle. Gordon had told her in no uncertain terms that they weren't worthy of her. |
| 5830 |
She loved the work and the people she met there. Gordon found it a bohemian pursuit, and insisted that she give up her job the moment she got pregnant with Sophie. And after the baby was born, in spite of the joys of motherhood, Isabelle found that she missed the museum and the challenges and rewards it offered. |
| 5831 |
Her recovery was long, and it wasn't as easy afterward to get pregnant again. And when she did, she'd had a difficult pregnancy with Teddy, which resulted in his premature birth, and all the subsequent worries about him. It was then that she and Gordon began drifting apart. He had been incredibly busy at the bank then. |
| 5832 |
She had no one to support her through Teddy's early years, and she was always at his side. Gordon didn't want to hear about Teddy's problems, or their medical defeats and victories. He detested hearing about it, and as though to punish her, he removed himself almost instantly from any intimacy in their marriage. |
| 5833 |
She had no concrete proof of it, he never threatened to leave her, not physically at least. But she had a constantly uneasy feeling that he had set her adrift and swum off. After Teddy, there were no more babies. Gordon had no desire for them, and Isabelle had no time. She gave everything she had to her son. |
| 5834 |
He seemed to have nothing but contempt for her, and a deep, silent rage that he never expressed in words. What Isabelle didn't know, until a cousin of Gordon's told her years later, was that Gordon had had a younger brother who suffered from a crippling illness as a child and had died at the age of nine. |
| 5835 |
And although his mother had doted on Gordon when he was younger, the latter part of his childhood was spent watching his mother nurse his brother, until he died. The cousin wasn't entirely sure what the illness had been, or what had exactly happened, but she knew that Gordon's mother had fallen ill after the boy died. |
| 5836 |
They had been the eyes of a wounded child, not just an angry man. She wondered then if it was why he had married so late, and remained so distant from everyone, and it explained, finally, his resistance to Teddy in every possible way. But whatever she had come to understand did not help her with Gordon. |
| 5837 |
But whatever he thought of her, Bill had never suggested any hint of romance to her, he didn't even allow himself to think it. Isabelle had conveyed to him clearly right from the first that that was not an option. If they were going to be friends, they had to respect each other's respective marriages. |
| 5838 |
He gave her advice on many things, had the same perspective on most things as she did, and for a little while at least, while they talked, she could forget all her worries and problems. In her eyes, Bill's friendship was an extraordinary gift that he gave her, and one that she treasured. But it was no more than that. |
| 5839 |
It was only days later that Bill discovered he needed to meet with the American ambassador to England. He had been a major donor to the last presidential campaign, and Bill needed his support for another candidate, and he wanted to get him on board early, to establish a floor for their contributions. |
| 5840 |
She had dark brown hair with a reddish tinge, creamy porcelain skin, and big green eyes flecked with amber. At his request, she had sent him a photograph two years before, of herself and the children. He often looked at it and smiled while they were talking during their late night or early morning phone calls. |
| 5841 |
He loved seeing her, and looked forward for months to the few times a year he saw her in Paris. He either found an excuse to go, when he hadn't seen her in a while, or stopped to see her on his way to somewhere else. He usually saw her three or four times a year, and when he was in Paris, they saw each other for lunch. |
| 5842 |
Yet he had been aware for a long time that he felt far more for her than he ever could have said to her, or anyone else. He was looking forward to being in London. His meeting at the embassy would only occupy him for a few hours, and beyond that, he planned to spend as much time as possible with her. |
| 5843 |
Bill had assured her that he was dying to see the exhibit at the Tate as well, and she was thrilled at the prospect of sharing that with him. It was after all, she told herself, her principal reason for going to London. And seeing Bill was going to be an unexpected bonus. She had it all sorted out in her head. |
| 5844 |
They had nothing to hide, she told herself. She wore a cloak of respectability in his regard that seemed to be desperately important to her. It was a boundary she had long since established for them, and one that Bill respected, for her sake. He would never have done anything to upset her or frighten her away. |
| 5845 |
It was time to leave, but at the last moment, she hated the thought of leaving Teddy. She had left a thousand instructions for the nurses who would be caring for him while she was away. They were the same nurses he always had, but they were going to be sleeping in the same room with him while she was away. |
| 5846 |
And he was. It took him only a few minutes to collect his bag, and with his briefcase in his other hand, he strode toward the driver from Claridge's, standing discreetly to one side with a small sign bearing his name. He stayed at Claridge's whenever he was in London, and had convinced Isabelle to stay there as well. |
| 5847 |
And as he opened a newspaper to read in the back of the car, a woman would have noticed that he had beautiful hands, and he was wearing a Patek Philippe watch Cindy had given him years before. Everything about him, and that he wore, had a subtlety and quiet elegance to it that drew the right kind of attention to him. |
| 5848 |
He was fueled by power and political excitement, he loved the ins and outs of the ever changing political scene, and had no desire to be publicly known. In fact, it was often far more important to him to be invisible and unseen. He had no need or desire to make a lot of noise, or draw attention to himself. |
| 5849 |
And although one might have noticed him walking into a room, just by the way he looked, or the way he seemed to take over without saying a word, he commanded respect and attention more by his silence than by anything he did or said. And in just that same way, people noticed Isabelle without her saying a word. |
| 5850 |
He knew her every emotion, every reaction, every thought, and she had no hesitation anymore in sharing her deepest secrets with him. It was something Isabelle told him she and Gordon had never shared. Bill checked into Claridge's, and Thomas, the concierge, instantly recognized him, and was pleased to see him again. |
| 5851 |
And she felt she should be back in Paris for the weekend. It was like a race against time, and an extraordinary gift to have these few days. They had never been able to do anything like this. And he had no ulterior motives, no intentions or plans. He was just looking forward to the opportunity to be with her. |
| 5852 |
There was something wonderfully pure and innocent about what they shared. Bill washed his face and hands, shaved quickly, as he thought about seeing her, and ten minutes later was walking down the hall looking for her room number. It was around two corners and as confusing as possible, but he found her at last. |
| 5853 |
He knocked on the door, and the wait seemed interminable, and then she opened it and stood there looking at him for a moment with a shy smile. "How are you?" she asked, her creamy skin faintly flushed, her long dark hair brushed and gleaming as it hung past her shoulders, and her eyes looked straight into his. |
| 5854 |
She still moved like a girl, rather than the woman that she was. And he noticed instantly the chic black suit, the Hermes bag, and the elegant high heeled shoes. She wore only her wedding ring, and on her ears a pair of small diamond studs. And looking at her, it was hard to believe she had a care in the world. |
| 5855 |
She had a warm, welcoming smile, and just seeing him, there was joy and excitement in her eyes. "My God, Isabelle, you look great." She never changed, hadn't in the last four years, she was a little thinner than she'd been six months before, but with her classic beauty, she seemed to stand still in time. |
| 5856 |
He felt like a kid again, as they walked down the stairs arm in arm, chatting about the trip, the galleries they wanted to see, the exhibit at the Tate, and they talked about his girls. He loved telling her funny stories about them, and she was laughing as they walked past the concierge to the main doors. |
| 5857 |
It had a garden, and the owner was delighted to see them when they arrived. They were well dressed and elegant, and there was something enormously charismatic about both of them. He showed them to a quiet table in the back. He brought the wine list to Bill, handed them both menus, and then disappeared. |
| 5858 |
The last time she'd seen him had been in Paris the previous winter, just before Christmas, he'd given her a beautiful Hermes scarf, and a first edition of a book they'd talked about. It was leather bound and extremely rare, and she cherished it, as she did everything he'd given her over the past four years. |
| 5859 |
She wondered why he stayed with his wife sometimes. It was easy to figure out that there was no real communication between them, and he deserved so much more. But she also knew that he didn't like talking about it. The state of his marriage to Cynthia was something he accepted, and a balance he chose not to disturb. |
| 5860 |
A divorce would have brought too much attention to him, particularly if it was acrimonious, and he often said that Cindy liked things just the way they were. She wouldn't have gone quietly into the night, she liked the practical advantages of being Mrs. William Robinson, particularly in Washington, or anywhere. |
| 5861 |
The life she led with Gordon was certainly not the marriage she'd envisioned or hoped for twenty years before, but it was something she accepted now. She had made her peace with it, and she didn't think of it, as she lay on the huge bed at Claridge's, anticipating an evening of conversation and laughter with Bill. |
| 5862 |
But she was startled by his reaction when he came to her door at exactly eight o'clock, just after she'd called home and talked to Teddy's nurse, and was relieved to hear that all was well. Gordon was out, and Teddy was already fast asleep, so she didn't talk to him, but she was happy to hear that he'd had a good day. |
| 5863 |
They rode down in the elevator standing close to each other, and whispering in quiet conversation. She told him she had spoken to the nurse and Teddy was doing well, and she looked happy when she said it. He wanted so much for her to relax and have a good time, and so far the fates were conspiring in their favor. |
| 5864 |
They made a handsome couple as they sat down at a corner table, and Bill ordered a scotch and soda for himself, and a glass of white wine for her. As usual, she barely sipped it as they chatted about art, politics, the theater, his family's summer home in Vermont, and the places they had both loved to go as a child. |
| 5865 |
And he had confessed to Isabelle about his one affair. But more than that, Isabelle sensed, both in what he said and didn't say, that Cynthia was anything but warm. She was not only distant from him now, but punished him, when they met, for what she seemed to feel were his failings in regard to her. |
| 5866 |
I'm perfectly willing to entertain for him, but I'm not very good at opening up to people, or impressing them. That's hard for me. I felt like a puppet in the early days of our marriage, and Gordon was pulling all the strings. He told me what to say to people, how to act, how to behave, what to think. |
| 5867 |
But he had gone out of his way to be nice to Bill, because he was impressed by him, while all the while seeming to ignore his wife. Gordon was charming when he chose to be, with people he thought were important or could be useful to him, but it was almost as though he needed to punish Isabelle for who she was. |
| 5868 |
There were several actresses, a major movie star, some literary figures of note, a table of businessmen from Bahrain, two Saudi princesses, and a table of fashionable Americans, one of whom had made a fortune in oil. It was a noticeably distinguished crowd, and several people stopped to say hello to Bill. |
| 5869 |
He introduced Isabelle without hesitation simply as Mrs. Forrester, and offered no explanation as to who she was. And halfway through dinner, she noticed a well known French banker she had met years before, he knew Gordon certainly, but he paid no attention to her, and never acknowledged either of them on the way out. |
| 5870 |
He was always honest with her. It was a promise he'd made himself a long time ago, that he would never dodge the truth with her, no matter how awkward the truth was. And as far as he knew, she had done the same with him, and she always assured him she had. She cherished the candor and openness they shared. |
| 5871 |
He had made his peace with his own situation, as Isabelle knew, a long time before. But sometimes she wondered why. At fifty two, he was young enough to start another life, and he deserved happiness, she thought, at least more than most. He gave so much, and got so little back. But Bill thought the same of her. |
| 5872 |
She had only had one glass of each of the two wines he'd ordered and another of champagne, and no more than a sip of the Yquem. But it was still more than she ordinarily drank. They were both happy, but not drunk. If anything, they were inebriated by the pleasure of each other's company, but not the wine. |
| 5873 |
It only took them a few minutes to get to Annabel's, and when they arrived, once again everyone seemed to know Bill. He had been to Annabel's six months before with the ambassador, and he dined there occasionally with friends whenever he was in London. Isabelle was smiling as they were led to their table. |
| 5874 |
There was no artifice between them, no awkwardness, nothing uncomfortable or strange. But what she felt when she was with him, as much as happiness, was an extraordinary sense of peace. And neither of them moved for a minute when they got to the hotel, and the driver waited politely outside without opening the door. |
| 5875 |
It was two o'clock in the morning, and two workmen were polishing the marble floors. Isabelle yawned sleepily as they rode up in the elevator, and it stopped on the third floor. "What time do you want to get started in the morning?" he asked her, wishing in spite of himself that he could spend the night with her. |
| 5876 |
Bill knocked on the door of Isabelle's room the next morning, and she was dressed and waiting for him, this time in a beautifully cut navy blue linen suit. She was wearing a navy blue Kelly bag, and navy alligator shoes, and she had a bright green scarf around her neck, and emerald and sapphire earrings. |
| 5877 |
He'd been thinking how nice it would be to have breakfast with her every day. She was such good company, and so easy to be with. It was rare for him to hear her in a bad mood, even when he called her several times a week on the phone. Cindy always said that she hated dealing with humans before noon. |
| 5878 |
But Isabelle was chatty and informative all the way to the Tate. She was telling him all about the paintings they were going to see, their history, their provenance, the technique and details that were most remarkable about them. She'd done her homework and was excited about seeing the exhibit with him. |
| 5879 |
And once they got to the exhibit, she was totally absorbed in each painting, studying intricately the most minute details, and pointing everything out to him. It was a whole new experience going to a museum with her, and by the time they left at noon, he felt as though he had taken an extensive art course. |
| 5880 |
It was like sharing her passion with him, he never felt that she was showing off or making him feel ignorant, although he was far less knowledgeable than she was about it. But there was an amazing grace and humility about everything she did and said to him. "Do you paint yourself?" he asked with interest. |
| 5881 |
He thought it was beneath her somehow, and her artwork didn't suit the image he had of her, or wanted for her. All he had wanted from her at that point was to have his children and run his home. All that she had been before they married, everything she had once done and loved, was no longer of any consequence to him. |
| 5882 |
Taking care of the children. Keeping out of the way until my presence is required, which isn't often anymore. I think he might tolerate it if I did some kind of charity work someday, as long as it's on a committee that meets his approval, perhaps with other people he considers useful or worthy of him. |
| 5883 |
I'm not sure she ever really wanted me to be who I am now. I think this would actually be frightening to her, the kind of intimacy we share, even if it is on the phone most of the time. She didn't want to bare her soul to me, or deal with mine, she just wanted me to be there, to go to parties with her. |
| 5884 |
It's over for us, and actually, I think it's better that way. There's no disappointment, no pain. As long as I show up once in a while for one of her benefits, and keep paying the bills, and don't forget to come to the girls' graduations, that's all she wants from me now. We live in different worlds. |
| 5885 |
At some level, we both knew going in that this was how it would wind up. Cindy was adorable when she was in college, she was bright and cute and a lot of fun, but she was never warm. She's probably the most selfish, manipulative, calculating woman on the planet. And Gordon is cruel, cold, and controlling. |
| 5886 |
My parents hated kids, and had decided not to have any, and then I came along in their forties, as a surprise. They never let me forget it, and always let me know, or made me feel, that they were doing me a huge favor having me around at all. I couldn't wait to get the hell out when I went to college. |
| 5887 |
I think she wanted to love me, and she did probably, but she didn't know how. She was very proper and very cold, she had lost her own mother when she was a baby, and her father had been very cold to her. He sent her to boarding school when she was nine, and left her there until she married my father. |
| 5888 |
And once she was gone, he remarried, a woman he'd been involved with for years, even before his wife died. The British side of the family was full of skeletons and secrets, and people we weren't allowed to mention or talk about. All we had to do was dress properly, be polite, and pretend that everything was fine. |
| 5889 |
He had been drawn to Isabelle's warmth and light like a moth to flame, and in some ways, she had kept him alive ever since. But the contrast between her and his wife had made him feel even more distant from Cindy after so many years. He could see now how vastly separate and distant they were, and had been for so long. |
| 5890 |
But divorce would have been a serious handicap for him. Keeping a low profile, and his nose clean, was essential to him. No president or presidential candidate would want to be associated with him, if Cindy ever made things rough, and he had long since suspected she would. She was not about to let go of a good thing. |
| 5891 |
There was far more at stake than that. And she wasn't going to throw Teddy's life or health away for the dream of a romance. She was far too sensible for that. No matter how much she cared about Bill, and admired him, her son came first. And he respected her for that, he always had, and always would. |
| 5892 |
He wasn't sure why things had gotten out of hand that morning, except that he was so happy when he was with her, and it was hard to accept that there could never be more. He knew that in Teddy's lifetime she would never even think of leaving Gordon, and he hoped for her sake that her son would live for a long time. |
| 5893 |
They went for a walk down New Bond Street, looking into the shop windows at paintings and jewelry, and walking along slowly arm in arm. He couldn't help thinking to himself again how comfortable he was, being with her. It was nearly six o'clock when they got back to Claridge's and decided to have tea. |
| 5894 |
She was planning to leave the next day, late in the afternoon. She didn't really think she should stay over the following night, although she was tempted to, and he didn't want to push. He knew she felt she should get back to her son. And maybe, if he didn't press too hard this time, she'd be willing to do this again. |
| 5895 |
She was so beautiful, it made his heart ache sometimes just to look at her. He wanted to give her so much more, to go places with her, spend time with her, introduce her to his friends, take her to Washington and show her off. But he knew that neither of them could do that. This was as far afield as she could go. |
| 5896 |
She knew him too well now, and the icy coldness of his heart. "You're either crazy or blind," Bill said, and then laughed, looking slightly uncomfortable, and then they got up and went upstairs. It was seven thirty by then, and he said he was going to have a massage in his room while she dressed, and called home. |
| 5897 |
And when she did, she was pleased with what she heard. Teddy had had another good day, and he was laughing when he talked to her. He and the nurse had been reading a book of jokes she'd bought for him before she left. He read her a couple of them, and she laughed with him, and she was smiling when she got in the bath. |
| 5898 |
She had thought about staying another night, but it didn't seem fair to him. She wore a simple white silk cocktail dress that night, with a white cashmere stole, her pearls again, and white silk Chanel shoes with black toes. She carried a white evening bag with nothing more than a lipstick and her room key in it. |
| 5899 |
She didn't need more than that. And this time, she decided to wear her hair down. And Bill looked even more impressed than the previous night when she opened the door. He was obviously taken with her, and it pleased her no end. There was such a softness to her, such a gentleness, and so much femininity. |
| 5900 |
But it was going to be different once they were on her home turf. They might be able to have lunch, but she couldn't have lunch or dinner with him as easily as she did here. If Gordon became aware that she was seeing him, no matter how chaste it was, it could be awkward for her. But Bill knew and understood all that. |
| 5901 |
Neither of them spoke, they just held each other close as they danced, and Isabelle closed her eyes. It was a long time before they left the floor, and they both seemed subdued. Neither of them wanted to think of leaving each other the next day, but there was no avoiding it. They knew the moment would come. |
| 5902 |
Isabelle wasn't sure what it was at first, she was blinded by a flash of light, and it was only when her vision cleared that she realized that a photographer had taken their photograph, but she couldn't imagine why. "What was that all about?" It had frightened her at first, and she had nearly jumped into Bill's arms. |
| 5903 |
Isabelle sat close to him in the car, and as he was growing accustomed to doing now, he held her hand. They were both thinking about leaving the next day, and there was a tangible aura of seriousness in the car, as he instructed the driver to take them for a little drive on their way back to the hotel. |
| 5904 |
And she had never wanted to say those words to him, she knew it would complicate everything, but neither of them could stop now. And as he gently touched her cheek, their driver rolled slowly toward an intersection, and for a moment Bill thought of asking him to stop. He wanted to be alone with her. |
| 5905 |
They were still kissing as the bus seemed to devour the entire limousine, and within seconds, the car and the bus were a tangle of mangled steel, and there was broken glass everywhere. The bus dragged the car halfway down the street, and in the end it was crushed under it, and it lay on its side with spinning wheels. |
| 5906 |
Isabelle was still lying peacefully in Bill's arms, she was lying on top of him. The roof of the car had caved in, they were both unconscious, and her entire dress was no longer white but red with blood. There were two long gashes on the side of Bill's face, and Isabelle looked as though she were sleeping peacefully. |
| 5907 |
It was one of the worst accidents the police had ever seen with a bus that size, and as they talked to witnesses who had happened by just as the bus hit the limousine, there was the sound of sirens screaming toward them, and within minutes, there were ambulances and fire trucks and paramedics everywhere. |
| 5908 |
As they began operating on Bill to set the many vertebrae that had been broken in his spinal column, he could feel himself sitting up, and within seconds, he found himself walking along a brightly lit path. He was aware of sounds all around him, and far ahead in the distance, there was a bright shining light. |
| 5909 |
And he could see the light behind her now, as she started to come toward him again. And a moment later, he was holding her in his arms. He was kissing her and holding her and she was smiling at him. Neither of them was sure where they had been, but all they knew was that they had to go back to their children now. |
| 5910 |
All she wanted was to sleep, and lie down by the side of the road. But Bill wouldn't let go of her hand, and he wouldn't let her slow down, and she didn't know how they got there or when, but after a time she had a sense that they were home. They were in a room she didn't recognize, and she felt safe next to him. |
| 5911 |
The big question for him was going to be the use of his legs. They both had a long stretch of road to travel before their survival would be assured. It had been one of the worst accidents the police had seen in recent years, and eleven people had been killed: the drivers of both vehicles and nine passengers of the bus. |
| 5912 |
It seemed incredible to him that this was Isabelle they were talking about. As little as they shared, and as distant as they had become, she was still his wife. He wondered what he should tell Teddy, or if he should call Sophie in Portugal, and as he thought about it, he decided he'd say nothing to either of them. |
| 5913 |
The only emotions he was aware of were of sympathy and regret. He called the airlines and asked about flights, and then he made a decision. No one knew about the accident, she was unconscious, and he needed time to absorb what had happened himself. He had important appointments in the office that afternoon. |
| 5914 |
He didn't want to rush off in a panic. There was nothing he could do there anyway, and he hated hospitals. After only an instant's hesitation, he made a reservation on the five o'clock flight. It would get him into Heathrow at five thirty local time, and he could be at the hospital by seven that night. |
| 5915 |
His time would be better spent elsewhere, he thought. Or at least that was what he told himself. He left for the office shortly afterward, and said nothing to his secretary except that he was leaving the office at three o'clock. He didn't want a big fuss made about it. There was no point, unless she died. |
| 5916 |
In London, at the hospital, after speaking to Gordon, the clerk at the intensive care desk steeled herself for her next call. Calling Gordon had unnerved her somewhat. He had asked so few questions and sounded so terrifyingly calm. It was most unusual for anyone to respond to a call like that as he had. |
| 5917 |
The desk clerk at the hospital had the Robinsons' number in front of her, and two nurses walked by her desk as it rang at the other end. They were talking about Isabelle and holding her chart. And from what Gordon had said on the phone, the clerk had no idea when he would come. He had just thanked her, and hung up. |
| 5918 |
What they had told her was terrible, and she could only hope that it wasn't as bad as it seemed. A fractured neck, a spinal cord injury, spinal surgery, possibly permanent paralysis, internal damage, broken bones. And they weren't even sure he'd survive. And if he did, it was questionable that he'd ever walk again. |
| 5919 |
But as she threw slacks and T shirts and sweaters into a suitcase, all she could think of were the implications for Bill. She was absolutely certain that if he was going to be severely impaired, he would prefer not to live. She wasn't sure what she wished for him now, it all depended on how badly damaged he was. |
| 5920 |
There had been other men in her life, and their marriage had run out of gas a long time ago, she had even thought about divorcing him once or twice, when she was involved with other men. But it had never once in all these years occurred to her that he might die. Just thinking of that now changed everything. |
| 5921 |
All Cynthia could think of suddenly was what he had been like when they were kids, how desperately in love with him she had been, how happy they were when they were first married. It was like seeing thirty years of history race before her eyes as she walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. |
| 5922 |
And as she stood beneath the spray of hot water, and thought of him never walking again, all she could do was cry. They left for the airport shortly after nine, Cynthia drove, and the girls were quiet in the backseat. Cynthia never said a word, and both girls stared out the window and were lost in thought. |
| 5923 |
They were all wearing jeans and T shirts and Nikes, and had brought very little with them. Cynthia figured they probably wouldn't leave the hospital much, and none of them cared how they looked. The girls had barely taken the time to comb their hair. And when Jane made them breakfast before they left, no one ate. |
| 5924 |
Isabelle and Bill had been put in separate private rooms in the intensive care ward. Both of them were covered with monitors, had their own separate teams, and were in such dire straits that they were being kept apart from the ward. Isabelle had been running a high fever since three o'clock that afternoon. |
| 5925 |
It would have been hard to determine which of her many injuries was causing her temperature to rise, and she was still in a deep coma, as much from the trauma as from the anesthetic and the drugs. Looking at her clinically, it was hard to believe she was going to live. And Bill was faring only slightly better than she. |
| 5926 |
And there was no point guessing at any of it. Right now all they were were two patients in the intensive care ward, fighting for their lives. They were talking about operating on Isabelle again, to relieve the pressure on her brain. The surgeon was due back at any moment to make a decision about it. |
| 5927 |
And when he came shortly after six, he checked the monitors and, with a grim look, decided to wait. He didn't think she'd survive another surgery, and might not anyway. It seemed unreasonable to him to challenge her more at this point. It was after seven, and the doctor had just left, when Gordon arrived. |
| 5928 |
To him, she seemed like an almost unrecognizable hunk of flesh, there were bandages and wires and tubes and monitors everywhere, even her head was swathed with gauze, and the arm with the severed artery was heavily bandaged as well. The only thing familiar about her was her deathly pale face peeking out of the gauze. |
| 5929 |
She had been beautiful and intelligent and talented, and whatever their differences, she had been a good wife to him, and a good mother to their children. To save her in order to lie in a bed like a living corpse was abhorrent to him, and he was prepared to fight to see that that didn't happen to either of them. |
| 5930 |
The nurse thought he looked like a distant friend, or a remote member of her family who had come to the hospital dutifully. He kept his emotions to himself. "I'll let the surgeon on duty know that you're here," the nurse said as she slipped past him into the hall, leaving the remaining two nurses with Isabelle. |
| 5931 |
Looking at Isabelle tore at her heart. She was so beautiful and so young. But the man who had flown from Paris to see his wife seemed to feel nothing at all. She had never met anyone as cold. Gordon stepped out of the room, and walked slowly down the hall, waiting for someone to come and talk to him. |
| 5932 |
He confirmed to Gordon what he already knew, more or less, and acknowledged the grave danger she was in. He said they were debating performing another surgery on her, but were hoping to avoid it if they could. All they could do was wait and see how her own body responded to the trauma it had endured. |
| 5933 |
He had no sense of loss, no despair, no terror of losing her. She seemed like a stranger to him now, lying so broken and still in her hospital bed. She looked like a lifeless doll, and it was hard to understand that the woman he had just seen had been the young girl he once married, let alone his wife of twenty years. |
| 5934 |
He had come to assess the situation, and he was planning to return to Paris in a day or two. And come back to London again if need be. She might be dead by then, or she may have remained the same. The young surgeon had told him that night that she could stay in the coma, without change, for weeks or even months. |
| 5935 |
But he realized that if this was going to take a while, it was going to be best if he called Sophie in Portugal and asked her to come home. If nothing else, she could take over watching Teddy for him. He dreaded calling her, but after what he'd seen tonight, he was beginning to think that he should. |
| 5936 |
She was such an innocent that she might just be naive enough to befriend someone like that, and tea in the lobby was certainly a relatively harmless pursuit, but in Gordon's mind being out at two in the morning in a limousine with a man was not. He still couldn't imagine what Bill Robinson had been doing with her. |
| 5937 |
He wondered if she had been to those places with him. He looked around the room for further evidence, but there was no sign of a man's clothes, no letters, no notes, no flowers with cards from him. There was nothing but two matchbooks from two fashionable watering holes that he somehow knew she had kept as souvenirs. |
| 5938 |
Maybe Robinson had just picked her up, and she had been vulnerable to it. In all likelihood it was innocent, and whatever had happened between them that night, or before, they had certainly paid a high price for it. But he couldn't help wondering what their bond to each other was, or if there was one at all. |
| 5939 |
It took them half an hour to get through customs, and Claridge's had a car waiting for them. They went straight to the hospital, and were there at one o'clock in the morning. The intensive care ward was still bustling at that hour, and four new trauma patients had come in just before Cynthia and her daughters arrived. |
| 5940 |
Tears welled up in her eyes, and he was no longer a conglomeration of symptoms and broken parts anymore, he was the boy she had fallen in love with in college, and she could see how desperately injured he was. It took all the strength she had to get control of herself again, and be of some support to her girls. |
| 5941 |
Besides, for years she had heard stories about people in comas who had heard what the people around them were saying. Cynthia continued talking to him, and she and the girls stayed with him for two hours, until a doctor checking him suggested that they get some rest themselves, and come back in the morning. |
| 5942 |
Besides, she wasn't entirely sure yet if she trusted them with him. She wanted to watch what they were doing. But at least she was impressed by the care he was getting, from all she could tell. "I think you should go to the hotel. We'll call you if there's any change in his condition," the doctor said firmly. |
| 5943 |
But she also knew that he went there with friends and business acquaintances whenever he was in London. She didn't find that unusual, and it made her cry again when she put on his pajamas. She was suddenly terrified of losing him, and when she called the girls to see if they were all right, they were both crying. |
| 5944 |
It was hard to hold on to hope after seeing him. He looked so severely broken, and nearly dead. Cynthia couldn't get the sound of the girls crying out of her head, so she put on a bathrobe over Bill's pajamas and walked down the hall to see them. She just wanted to give them a hug, and reassure them. |
| 5945 |
His vital signs were a little more stable than they had been, but he was still deeply unconscious. It was eleven in the morning by then, and Cindy felt as though she had been beaten with lead pipes all night. She checked on the girls, letting herself quietly into their room, and she found that they were still asleep. |
| 5946 |
She hated to wake the girls, and left them a note instead. She left it in their room, and told them she'd call from the hospital to let them know how their father was doing. She went downstairs to the car they had waiting for her, and gave the driver the address. And he talked about the accident on the way. |
| 5947 |
The driver who had been killed had been one of his best friends. He told Cynthia how sorry he was about her husband, and she thanked him. She found things much the same once she got to the hospital, and settled into the waiting room after talking to him for a while. She was waiting to see one of Bill's doctors. |
| 5948 |
And as she sat there, she saw a man walk by. He was tall and distinguished looking, wearing a well cut suit, and he had an aristocratic air of command that instantly caught her eye. He stopped to speak to the nurses at the desk, and she saw them shake their heads and look at him with a discouraged expression. |
| 5949 |
And later, she saw him come out of a room across the hall from Bill's, and come back to speak to one of the doctors in the hall. And then he left again, but Cynthia had the impression that he was locked in the same agonizing waiting game she was trapped in, waiting to see what would happen to someone severely ill. |
| 5950 |
And she didn't know why, but she thought there was something odd about him. He seemed extremely uncomfortable in the intensive care ward, and she sensed both resistance and anger in him, as though he was deeply resentful that he had to be there at all. He seemed restless and awkward and ill at ease. |
| 5951 |
His nerves were suddenly on edge, and he had no satisfactory explanation for Teddy about why his mother hadn't called him. "She'll call you eventually. She has things to do with me," he lied to the boy, but he felt he had no other choice. And right now, lying to him was far kinder than telling him the truth. |
| 5952 |
He didn't like lying to the boy, nor did he want to tell him what had happened to Isabelle. And shortly after that, Gordon went back to the hospital himself to see her. When he arrived, he stood in the farthest corner of the room, looking agonized, and observed a variety of things they were doing to her. |
| 5953 |
This trip is the first one she's taken in years, and I think it was quite innocent. I was thinking that she may have just met your husband at Claridge's, in the lobby perhaps. I don't think we should jump to any conclusions. But it seems odd that they were together in a car at two o'clock in the morning. |
| 5954 |
He couldn't even begin to imagine where they'd been at that hour, or what they'd been doing. At any other hour of the day, he'd have been willing to believe they were at an art show, but not at two o'clock in the morning. Cynthia went back in to see Bill then, and the girls stared at Gordon in silence after she left. |
| 5955 |
She had been so indifferent to him for so long, and so unkind at times, she knew how cold and distant she had been, how critical of the life he led. She hadn't wanted to be part of his life in years, and now that she had possibly lost him forever, all she wanted was to tell him that she still loved him. |
| 5956 |
She hadn't even known that she still did until the night before, but she knew it now, and she wanted Bill to know it too. She couldn't help wondering what Isabelle Forrester meant to him, or if he was in love with her. And Cynthia knew that if she had lost him finally, because of her own stupidity, she deserved it. |
| 5957 |
He had nothing else to do. He could have called friends in London, but he wasn't ready to tell people what had happened. He wanted to see what happened to Isabelle first. And he was distracted as he read the book. He called the hospital late in the evening, before he went to bed, but there was no change. |
| 5958 |
It occurred to him that he could have gone back to the hospital, but he couldn't bear the thought of seeing her in that condition again. He wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, but the sight of her frightened him. He detested hospitals, the patients, the doctors, the nurses, the sounds, and the smells. |
| 5959 |
It had been almost exactly forty eight hours since the accident, and Cynthia had been there for twenty four. It felt like an eternity to her. The nurse in charge was adjusting his heart monitor, and this time she felt a faint movement in one of his hands, she watched him carefully, and then checked his eyes. |
| 5960 |
It was almost an animal sound, and his eyelids trembled as she touched his fingers. The nurse pushed a buzzer that would summon the doctor on duty in charge of the case. A light went on at the desk, and within seconds the attending doctor was there. "What's up?" he asked the nurse as he strode into the room. |
| 5961 |
He was coming back. It was impossible to determine how much he could hear or understand, but he was definitely responding to them. Cynthia felt as though she were going to jump out of her own skin, and she wanted to shove them aside and throw her arms around his neck. But she didn't move from where she stood. |
| 5962 |
He looked like he was asleep. The doctor touched both of Bill's eyelids then, as though to remind him of the command, and his brain of where his eyelids were. Bill let out a small sigh, and then without a sound, he opened both eyes and looked at him. "Well, hello," the young doctor said with a smile. |
| 5963 |
The nurses came back into the room then, they had things to do to him, and Cynthia went back outside to join the girls. She had to digest what had just happened with Bill. There was no question in her mind. Isabelle Forrester was important to him, she was no stranger, as her husband had hoped, or even a casual friend. |
| 5964 |
And as she sat in the waiting room, waiting for the nurses to finish their tasks with him, Cynthia picked up a copy of the Herald Tribune, and saw that there was an article about the bus accident in it, and she was startled to see a photograph of Bill and a woman, next to the photograph of the badly mangled bus. |
| 5965 |
The caption under the photograph said that the picture had been taken just moments before. It said that he and an unidentified woman had been at Annabel's, their car was hit only blocks away, and their driver had been killed. But it didn't mention Isabelle's name, or whether or not she'd been injured in the crash. |
| 5966 |
Particularly now. The girls exchanged a glance as they saw her reading the article. They didn't say anything, but they had seen it too. But they couldn't even be angry at their father now, for whatever he had done with her. What had happened was so much more serious that they could forgive him almost anything. |
| 5967 |
Isabelle was showing no sign of recovering, and although the doctor said she could remain in a coma for a long time, Gordon was increasingly worried that she would be brain damaged if she survived. In addition, they had just told him that her heart was beating irregularly, and she was developing fluid in her lungs. |
| 5968 |
Unlike Gordon Forrester, who had been terse and arrogant, and offended everyone on the floor. He had started out the day by demanding to have her moved. No one would hear of it, and he had backed down when the head of the intensive care ward told him in no uncertain terms that he was out of his mind for suggesting it. |
| 5969 |
If he could have, he would have wheeled himself in, but he was entirely at their mercy to do that for him. He was trapped in his bed in a neck brace and a full body brace, and he was unable to move. He couldn't even lift his head, and his arms were extremely weak. He had no sensation or mobility from the waist down. |
| 5970 |
He was as helpless as a baby lying in his bed, but he had a calm but forceful way of convincing the doctor that it was a good idea. "I can see I'm not going to be able to talk you out of it," the doctor said finally with a smile. It was after midnight by then, and there were no visitors left in the halls. |
| 5971 |
She would never even know he was there. It took a little maneuvering, but they got his bed next to hers. He moved his eyes sharply to see her, and he could just see her head swathed in bandages out of the corner of his eye. But if he moved his left arm as far as he could, he could touch her fingers with his hand. |
| 5972 |
The two nurses assigned to her were watching what was happening, and the doctor had instructed them to turn a blind eye. It was obvious to all of them why Bill was there. He held her fingers in his hand for a few minutes, and then he spoke to her, totally impervious to whoever heard him in the room. |
| 5973 |
They had both been walking toward a bright light, and just before they reached it, he had forced her to turn back, and she had been very annoyed. Their children had been there, and he had wanted to go back to them. But Isabelle had wanted to go on. And he wanted to tell her the same things now that he had then. |
| 5974 |
It was obvious even to Bill that she was in no condition to be moved. But at least the doctor had reassured him that they wouldn't let that happen. Bill was relieved for her sake, but he also liked knowing that she was nearby. He drifted off to sleep that night thinking of Isabelle, and there was a smile on his face. |
| 5975 |
They had just shaved him for the first time, and he felt a little more human again, but he still had a long way to go. He had told the doctor that his vision was blurred, which came as no surprise. The impact to his head had been considerable, and he was going to be feeling the effects of the coma for a while. |
| 5976 |
Whether or not he would ever walk again still remained a question in everyone's mind. Bill was aware of it, but it was a subject he and Cynthia had avoided so far, although they both knew that given the damage to his spinal cord, there was a real possibility that he'd be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. |
| 5977 |
Cynthia had been furious over it, and said it had humiliated her. But he had been a gentleman and never pointed out to her that her brief flings with her tennis instructors and golf pros and the husbands of her friends had humiliated him for years. Fidelity was no longer an aspect of the marriage she offered him. |
| 5978 |
What he had once felt for her, thirty years before, had been dead for a long time. All that was left was friendship, and he was grateful that she was there with him, but he wasn't in love with her, and that was no longer enough for him. He had realized it during the hours he had spent with Isabelle days before. |
| 5979 |
And she liked to tell herself that he was probably doing the same thing. But he was too serious for that, too loyal, and too deep, and she knew she should have realized it then. It was why he probably was in love with Isabelle. Because he was a profoundly decent man, and what he felt was far more dangerous. |
| 5980 |
She wasn't the kind of woman who could spend years, and surely not the rest of her life, nursing a man. And if he wound up in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, that was the last thing he wanted to inflict on her. He had only one choice, he knew, and that was to get out and take care of himself. |
| 5981 |
At this point in life, we both need people who want the same things we do. You've always wanted a very different life than I. I didn't think it mattered when we were kids, but I was wrong. You need some fun loving, happy go lucky guy who wants to go to parties and has lots of time to spend with you. |
| 5982 |
In many ways, he had already missed the boat, and those opportunities, once lost, would never come again. All he could do now was be there for them, to the degree they would allow him to be, as adults. "What are you saying to me?" she asked, blowing her nose again. She looked panicked and distraught. |
| 5983 |
She didn't want to cry in front of the ambassador, and she knew she would if she stayed. She didn't want to see her daughters either, she thought it would be better to go back to the hotel and cry for a while, on her own. "I'll come back tonight," she said, tears brimming in her eyes again as she kissed his cheek. |
| 5984 |
He was from New York, and had thought of running for the presidency once, and Bill had discouraged him. He'd never have won, but he was doing a great job at the embassy, and he was loving it. He'd already been there for three years, and Bill knew that the president was going to ask him to stay for another term. |
| 5985 |
He hadn't been looking forward to talking to her, but he knew he'd done the right thing. He had been planning to do it when he got home. And he knew he couldn't let the accident change his mind. If anything, it had solidified his resolve. And he hadn't wanted to leave her any illusions about him, painful as that was. |
| 5986 |
He was very tired. The morning hadn't been easy for him either, and it saddened him deeply to be ending his marriage. He had not only lost his wife, and chosen to, but with the accident, he appeared to have lost Isabelle, his closest friend. When he thought about it, his horizon was looking pretty bleak. |
| 5987 |
He just smiled and let him talk. They were old friends, but he didn't want to share the news of the divorce with him. It was still too fresh. He didn't want to tell anyone till they told the girls, out of respect for them. The ambassador looked at his watch then, and at Bill, and decided he had stayed long enough. |
| 5988 |
Grace was right. He looked terrible, and within five minutes he left. And to Bill suddenly, the older man who had seemed like his father only days before, now seemed vital and young and full of life, and all because he could walk out of the room under his own steam. The hours seemed to drag by after that. |
| 5989 |
Bill slept for a while, and the specialist came in late that afternoon. Bill hadn't heard from Cynthia, but he suspected she was at Claridge's, licking her wounds. He was still certain that, however painful this was, she'd be better off in the end. The specialist didn't have anything very encouraging to say. |
| 5990 |
The bad news was that if the nerves degenerated further, combined with the damage to his neck, he might not regain any sensation at all below his waist. Arthritis could set in, and cause further deterioration to the bones, and coupled with what he already had, he could endure a lifetime of pain as well. |
| 5991 |
More than ever now, it was all he had left. After the doctor left, Bill lay in bed and thought for a while. He was severely depressed. A lot had happened in a few hours, and it was a great deal to absorb. It was hard to wrap his mind around the idea that he would never walk again... never walk again. |
| 5992 |
But he knew it could have been worse. He could have been totally paralyzed, or dead, his head injury could have left him permanently impaired mentally. But in spite of the mercies he knew he should be grateful for, the possible loss of his manhood seemed to outweigh them all, and he lay in bed, worried and depressed. |
| 5993 |
He lay there and closed his eyes, thinking of the time they had spent together earlier that week. It was hard to believe it was only four days before. Four days ago, he had been dancing with her at Annabel's, feeling her close to him, and now he would never dance again, and she was hovering near death. |
| 5994 |
She knew he'd been in to see her the night before, and their mutual physician had allowed him to, but she had no idea what he'd think about Bill doing it again. But when she saw the look in his eyes, she could see what a hard day he'd had, and how affected he was by it, and her heart went out to him. |
| 5995 |
She was back five minutes later with two orderlies, who unlocked the brakes on his bed, and rolled him slowly toward the door. She had to unhook some of his monitors, but he was well enough now to be without them for a little while, and she knew how determined he was to go across the hall and see Isabelle. |
| 5996 |
Her nurse held the door open for them, and the orderlies rolled his bed gently across the hall into the room, and placed it next to hers. The shades in her room were drawn, and the respirator was making its familiar whooshing sound, as the nurses backed away into a corner of the room to leave them alone. |
| 5997 |
You're a lucky man. She's a wonderful woman, and I want her to survive just as much as you do, maybe more. Teddy needs her, even more than you do. If talking to her, or being there, or simply willing her to live because I give a damn about her, can possibly help her now, then it's at least something I can do for her. |
| 5998 |
But it was early days for all that yet. And first, they'd have to tell the girls what they'd decided. He wasn't looking forward to that, and he wanted to tell them with her, so the girls would understand that he and Cynthia would still be friends. That mattered a lot to him, and would to them eventually too. |
| 5999 |
And as he flew over the English Channel, he knew nothing more than he had when he'd come. The doctors still had no idea if she'd live, or recover. Her internal organs seemed to be mending slowly, but there was considerable concern over her heart and lungs, and her liver would take a long time to heal. |
| 6000 |
Sophie was old enough to know the truth, that she might lose her mother, and whether he was ill or not, Teddy simply had to face it. Gordon was sure that Sophie would be of some comfort to him. He was going to wait until she returned from Portugal to tell Teddy, so that she could deal with her brother. |
| 6001 |
It was an outrageous suggestion, and he couldn't help wondering if that was what Isabelle had said. He didn't hate his wife. He had simply lost her in the chaos and abysmal years after Teddy's birth. He could no longer separate her in his mind from the horrors of the sickroom, and all that represented to him. |
| 6002 |
He wondered if perhaps in her mind, thinking that Gordon hated her justified the affair he suspected she'd had with Bill, or at the very least, the flirtation. If they had been to Annabel's together as the papers said, and the photograph indicated, clearly their alliance was not as innocent as Bill Robinson suggested. |
| 6003 |
Sophie was staying at a rented house with friends in Sintra, she was out, so all Gordon could do was leave a message for her. She called him back at six o'clock, just as he was about to leave the office. He took a sharp breath as he picked up the phone, and braced himself for what he had to tell her. |
| 6004 |
Otherwise, she'd have to wait till the next morning. They hung up a moment later, and Gordon had his driver take him back to the house. It was the first he had seen of Teddy in four days, and the boy seemed in good spirits, but he asked for his mother the moment he saw Gordon in the doorway of his room. |
| 6005 |
It was going to be a long night until Sophie got home. He decided to solve the problem by staying downstairs, in the library, and was stunned an hour later, when he looked up and saw Teddy walk slowly into the room. He had insisted on coming downstairs himself, and the nurse had been unable to stop him. |
| 6006 |
He was a beautiful boy, but everything had always been wrong with him. And his infirmities had terrified his father. And now, in spite of himself, seeing the look of anguish in Teddy's eyes touched Gordon. He couldn't put off telling him the truth anymore, but he didn't want to be responsible for impacting his health. |
| 6007 |
He couldn't stop talking, and after dinner, the nurse took his temperature and he had a fever. He had gotten too excited, which was dangerous for him. It was precisely the kind of reaction Gordon had expected Teddy to have when he heard the news. Teddy was still wide awake when Sophie came home late that night. |
| 6008 |
And the two embraced as though they hadn't seen each other in years. The most terrible, unthinkable thing had happened to them. Neither of them could imagine it. It was beyond bearing, beyond thinking. They cried for a long time in each other's arms, until their father finally walked into the room, looking exhausted. |
| 6009 |
Her hair was pulled back, and she was well dressed, but to anyone who saw her, even at eighteen she looked like a child, with huge frightened eyes filled with sorrow. The nurses smiled at her when she spoke to them at the desk. She explained who she was, and one of them took her straight to her mother's room. |
| 6010 |
She told her how much she loved her, and begged her to live. There was no sign of life from Isabelle. The only thing that moved was the respirator, and the little lines of light on the monitors. There was no other sound or movement in the room. Her mother looked even more terrifying than she'd expected. |
| 6011 |
It was hard to believe she'd survive it. Sophie sat there for a long time, and then finally, around four o'clock, she walked out of the room. The same man who had watched her go in was looking at her again. The nurses had told him who she was, but he would have known anyway. She looked like a very young Isabelle. |
| 6012 |
She didn't want to intrude. She thought his daughters looked nice, and guessed correctly that Jane was about the same age she was. Sophie said good bye politely to all of them, and then walked away down the hall. She was going to come back later that night, to see her mother again. It was all she wanted to do. |
| 6013 |
They were going to Paris for a week, and they were going to come through London to see him on the way home. He thought it was a great idea, and wanted them to have some fun. He and Cynthia had agreed to tell them about the divorce on the way back, and then they could adjust to the idea of it once they went home. |
| 6014 |
The nurses had told him that she could live for years like that, and never come out of the coma before she eventually died. It was a hideous thought and a terrible waste of an extraordinary woman, and it seemed so desperately unfair. Ever since the accident, Bill had wished that he had died and she had been spared. |
| 6015 |
He would never again walk, or jump, or dance, or stroll down the street. His movements, like his life, would be complicated from now on. He had given up his marriage, and lost the woman he loved. He had nothing to hang on to at the moment, and was lost in an open sea with no sign of land around him. |
| 6016 |
Cynthia and the girls came to say good bye to him the next morning, on the way to the airport. And Sophie arrived just after they left. She sat with her mother for over an hour, and then came to say goodbye to him. And she noticed that he looked depressed, she assumed because his family had left and he was alone again. |
| 6017 |
She felt sad leaving him, as though she were leaving a piece of her mother. He was so nice, she was glad they'd been friends, and that she'd had a nice time with him. "I'll say one for you too." He reached out and took her hand and kissed it gently, because he couldn't kiss her cheek in the contraption he was in. |
| 6018 |
And then with a shy smile, she left him, and he lay there in his bed, with his eyes closed, thinking of her. And a little while later, he had himself wheeled into Isabelle's room. She was as silent and removed as ever, but he lay in the bed they rolled next to hers, and he talked to her about his visit with Sophie. |
| 6019 |
And then he lay there for a long time, thinking strong thoughts for Isabelle, willing her to reach out and live again. He was tired when they wheeled him back to his room. His frequent visits to her had ceased to cause comment among the nursing staff. They had come to accept it as a loving gesture he made. |
| 6020 |
One of the nurses had told her he would never walk again. He seemed to be very philosophical about it, and he was devastated that Isabelle had gotten injured while she was out with him. As they landed in Paris, Sophie's thoughts shifted to her mother and brother again. She felt torn now as to where she should be. |
| 6021 |
She had decided to go home for a few days, and then she wanted to go back to London again to see her mother. She took a cab from the airport, and the house was strangely quiet when she arrived. There was no sound in the house, and as she walked upstairs, she saw that it was dark in her father's rooms. |
| 6022 |
And when she walked into Teddy's room, she was shocked by the condition he was in. He was running a high fever, seemed nearly delirious, and the doctor had just been there, Teddy's nurse explained. She said that if the fever didn't come down that night, the doctor would put Teddy in the hospital the next day. |
| 6023 |
They would be orphans, she suddenly realized. She couldn't imagine where he'd been. An hour later she called his office, and he sounded perfectly calm when he answered. He hadn't seen her since she left for London, and she was astonished he hadn't been home with Teddy. It seemed irresponsible to her. |
| 6024 |
But she was still upset that her father hadn't come home the night before. If something terrible had happened to Teddy, they would have needed him there. And no one knew where he had been. But he wasn't the least apologetic, and Sophie suddenly found herself wondering if he stayed out all night regularly. |
| 6025 |
And she couldn't help asking herself if there were things about her parents she didn't know, particularly since she'd met Bill. It still seemed odd that she had never heard of her mother's friendship with him, and it occurred to her that she never ventured into her father's rooms at night or in the early morning. |
| 6026 |
Maybe there were other times when he hadn't been there. He went out a great deal in the evenings for business, and her mother rarely went with him anymore. Sophie suddenly had a sense of her whole life unraveling, not just because of what had happened to Isabelle, but because of what it had exposed. |
| 6027 |
Her father left for a meeting then, and Sophie spent the day with her brother, reading to him, telling him stories, and talking to him about their mother. She was doing the best she could, but they both knew she was no substitute for Isabelle. She felt like a zombie by the time her father came home after dinner. |
| 6028 |
But suddenly, as she watched him, she wondered if his previous interest in her had been more show than real, and perhaps even to annoy Isabelle, and make her feel less important to him. Sophie had always been treated as his little darling, and he had been as cool and distant with his wife as he was now with Sophie. |
| 6029 |
If Teddy had been healthy and strong and able to participate in things that interested his father, it would have been a different story. But as he was, as far as Gordon was concerned, the boy didn't exist and was of no interest to him. If anything, he was an irritant to him, although he felt sorry for him now. |
| 6030 |
It did no harm in any case, and it raised Bill's spirits noticeably. He always felt better when he visited her. He missed their late night talks terribly. And he lay in his hospital bed for hours, thinking about her just across the hall. He looked forward all day to the few minutes he could spend at her side. |
| 6031 |
They'd kept it to themselves for years. And he had to admit, he thought things were better in some ways since he'd told her it was over for him. He felt more honest and open with her now. But Cynthia made it clear to him before they left that if he changed his mind, she would prefer to stay married to him. |
| 6032 |
He didn't want to explain that he couldn't see her married to an invalid, or someone handicapped at best. But more than anything, he just wasn't in love with her anymore. What he had felt for Isabelle had told him many things about himself and what he didn't have. He didn't want to live a lie anymore. |
| 6033 |
He knew he would never have a life with Isabelle, whether she recovered or not, but the fact that he was and had been in love with her was enough to tell him that it was time for him to get out of a loveless marriage he'd been willing to settle for, for too long. He was quiet and pensive after they left. |
| 6034 |
She had come out of their marriage with a deep respect for him, and she knew there would never be another man like him in her life. She just wished now that she'd figured that out before. She knew that most of the responsibility for the divorce was hers, no matter how much of the blame he was willing to take himself. |
| 6035 |
They left for the States the next day, so early that they didn't have time to stop and see him at the hospital before they left. Cynthia and the girls called him from the airport to say good bye, and both girls were crying when they hung up. And he didn't say it to anyone, but after they were gone, he was sad. |
| 6036 |
It was lonely for him, and he was beginning to understand the long hard road he had ahead of him. He was facing at least a year of excruciating rehabilitation work, maybe more. But he had no choice. He made some business calls from time to time, and a few people had heard about the accident and called him. |
| 6037 |
But for the most part, he felt as though he were living in a cocoon, surrounded by nurses and doctors, and Isabelle still in a coma across the hall. It was not an easy time for him. By two weeks after the accident, Bill was making a reasonable recovery, and Gordon Forrester still hadn't been back to see his wife. |
| 6038 |
He hoped the situation wasn't too bad. And he thought about Sophie frequently too, and hoped she was all right. He had almost given up any hope of Isabelle coming out of her coma by the third week after the accident, and he wondered if Gordon was just going to leave her there, forgotten and unloved. |
| 6039 |
They just smiled and chatted with him, when he visited her, as though they expected to find him in her room several times a day. He was telling Isabelle how beautiful she was, and how much he missed talking to her on a warm, balmy night in July. The windows were open, and they could hear sounds from outside. |
| 6040 |
He was pleased because he could see her better that way. He didn't want to sleep, he just wanted to look at her all night, and see her face, touch her hand. She was still holding his hand, as they lay facing each other, and she looked like a child as she smiled at him. It struck him that she was the image of Sophie. |
| 6041 |
There was a long pause as he contemplated the possibility that, in his own eyes, he might no longer be a man. And he quietly held her hand. It was all he could offer her now. "I hope the children are all right," she said, thinking about them, and unaware of Bill's terrors about his ability to perform. |
| 6042 |
The first time he had brought her back from death, and the second time from the deep darkness where she slept endlessly. But what she was describing about the rock and the bright light was exactly what he had seen himself. "Isabelle, I was there too." He looked thunderstruck, and she didn't know why. |
| 6043 |
The doctor called Gordon Forrester at eight o'clock the next day to tell him the news, but the same voice told him he was out again. And he finally reached Gordon in his office at ten. He sounded startled to hear the news, and said he was very pleased. He asked if he could talk to her, but as yet she had no phone. |
| 6044 |
For Bill and Isabelle's sake, he hoped it wouldn't be too soon. He had fallen in love with them, it was impossible to resist a love like that, that had gone to the edge of death and beyond and back again. It was something the doctor knew few people ever shared, and it was infinitely precious when they did. |
| 6045 |
He wanted to think about it. He wasn't sure she needed to know. Unless things had changed radically while she was comatose, he knew that she would go back to Gordon, to take care of her sick child. He could of course still call her, and see her from time to time, but he didn't want her pity, if he was in a wheelchair. |
| 6046 |
He told her that he was very relieved to know that she was getting well. He made it sound as though she were recovering from a sprained ankle, or a bad fall. In fact, he felt as though she had returned from the dead. By the time she woke up, he hadn't expected her to live, or to come out of the coma. |
| 6047 |
Sophie cried when she heard her mother's voice, and all Teddy could do was gasp for air and sob. Isabelle thought he sounded terrible, and she asked Gordon about it when her children got off the phone. She was still crying from the overwhelming emotion of hearing them. She had been so worried about both of them. |
| 6048 |
There was no point in his going to see her, he said, if she was coming home. "They said in about four weeks, depending on my liver, my head, and my heart." They were hardly small things to contemplate, but Gordon didn't seem impressed. Now that she was out of the coma, he was dismissive of the rest. |
| 6049 |
He was willing to do that for her and Bill, he liked them both. They'd been to hell and back, and her children could wait. But later, she admitted to Bill how worried she was about Teddy. He hadn't sounded well on the phone, and it was the one thing that made her feel she should try to go home sooner than planned. |
| 6050 |
He wanted time to see how much better he could get. She thought it would take him a long time to heal, like six months or a year, so she wasn't surprised that he couldn't walk. If she had been willing to leave Gordon, it could have been different for him. He might have told her the truth then about his legs. |
| 6051 |
Gordon was suspicious of her now, and angry about Bill, and Bill was worried that Gordon would punish her for the sins he thought she had committed behind his back. She was going to have to be careful of him now, and stand up for herself, or he would turn her life into a nightmare of torment and disrespect. |
| 6052 |
He thought they were being unreasonable and overly cautious about it, but in the end the doctor frightened him with hideous complications he claimed she could develop, and even suggested she might slip into a coma again. "I should lose my license over this," he laughed as he told Isabelle and Bill later on. |
| 6053 |
For now, they had four weeks, to sit together, and laugh and talk and revel in the love and comfort they derived from each other. The hospital was a safe haven for both of them, after the trauma they'd been through, and before they both went back to their own lives. Reality was going to hit them both soon enough. |
| 6054 |
They slept together cautiously in her room again that night, and they tried his after that. They were both free of monitors, and they spent long hours throughout the afternoon talking about their lives and hopes and dreams. The time they were sharing was a rare gift, and for both of them, it had been hard won. |
| 6055 |
They played cards, they read books, he taught her to play liar's dice. They sat and talked for hours, they took their meals in the same room. Her liver was getting better, and healing slowly on its own. Her heartbeat was still irregular, though less so than it had been. And she had ferocious headaches sometimes. |
| 6056 |
She had noticed how little use of his legs he had, but Bill kept assuring her that he would be walking by the next time they met, and she believed him, because she wanted to. It seemed reasonable to her that he still couldn't walk. It had only been a month since the accident, which wasn't very long. |
| 6057 |
She had been out of the coma for a full two weeks when they were lying on his bed on a sunny afternoon in July. The windows were open, and the day was warm, and they were telling stories about their childhoods, as she lay on his bed with him. She was careful not to bump into him, or touch anything that still hurt. |
| 6058 |
The doctor had told him it was possible, and Bill hoped he was right. And if it was, he wanted to share that with her. If not, he felt sure it would be a huge disappointment to both of them, and a failure on his part. But he did not voice his fears to Isabelle. He was afraid she'd worry or feel sorry for him. |
| 6059 |
She was infinitely gentle with him as she removed his hospital gown, he had a beautiful body, and he was aching for her. There was no shame between them, no modesty, they had been through so much, it was as though they had always been together, as she stroked and caressed him and he looked concerned. |
| 6060 |
She was infinitely careful as she tried to arouse him, careful not to put any weight on him, just enough in the right places, and he felt the exquisite pleasure she intended for him, but the desired effect did not take place, much to his dismay. Even as he felt it, Bill was aware that what he felt was muffled somehow. |
| 6061 |
All Bill could think as he lay next to her was that he had failed, and nothing she could say altered that fact. He vowed to himself, as he held her close to him, that he would never try again. Despite her tenderness and her love for him, he felt humiliated and more despondent than he had since the accident. |
| 6062 |
She was certain that it would work eventually. And even if not, she was prepared to accept whatever limitations he had, and love him anyway. It changed nothing for her, but it changed Bill's entire world. He was certain if he didn't recover his manhood, if not his legs, there was no way he could remain in her life. |
| 6063 |
She knew, as Bill did, that her return to Paris was only weeks away. She wasn't hoping for complications for either of them, but she dreaded leaving Bill, not knowing when she would see him again. She talked to her children every day, and she thought Sophie sounded incredibly stressed, which worried her. |
| 6064 |
The full responsibility for Teddy was on her shoulders, and although Isabelle talked to him constantly, the boy was not doing as well as he had been before his mother left. Isabelle felt guilty for staying away from them for so long, but at the moment, she had no other choice, other than to be in a hospital in Paris. |
| 6065 |
They talked about it sometimes, and she said that perhaps in the future they could continue to meet somewhere, as they had in June. She didn't know how she'd get away, but she thought she could. What she shared now with Bill was not something she was willing to give up easily, even if they only met a few times a year. |
| 6066 |
Bill was vague when she talked about meeting him every few months. He couldn't even think about it now, although he was making steady progress, his recovery had been far slower than hers, and his spirits had been flagging. He didn't want to commit to seeing her until he saw how his rehabilitation went. |
| 6067 |
Gordon had been shocked to realize that she had developed a friendship with a man right under his nose. And Bill didn't say it to Isabelle, but he had made a decision weeks before that if he was to be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life, he refused to be a burden to her, or anyone else. |
| 6068 |
She knew she would never leave her marriage, because of Teddy and Sophie, but nor was she willing now to give up Bill. Being his lover was a life she had never envisaged for herself, but it was what she wanted now and all she could have. She and Bill shared something that she had never known before. |
| 6069 |
And when Isabelle spoke to Gordon, as always, he sounded distant and cool. Most of the time, she had the feeling that she had interrupted him and had called at an inopportune time. He had very little to say to her, since the accident. And she could sense that he no longer trusted her, although he never said as much. |
| 6070 |
She was talking to Bill about it one night, as she massaged his legs for him. He said they still felt mostly numb, but he had some sensation, as he did elsewhere, and they ached sometimes, almost as though he'd been walking for a long time. She was telling him about the conversation she'd had with Gordon that day. |
| 6071 |
It seemed odd to him for a man to be as cold and even cruel to her as her husband was, and not be finding comfort and consolation somewhere else. On the contrary, when he'd met him, he didn't think Gordon looked like the kind of man to be faithful or loyal to anyone. He was entirely out for himself. |
| 6072 |
Bill and Isabelle were happy together in every way, but by the following week, they were both beginning to look strained. She had a battery of tests scheduled, and if her doctors were pleased with the results, she was going home. It was late August by then, and they had been in the hospital for two months. |
| 6073 |
Gordon was getting angrier every day, and accusing her doctors of dragging their feet in releasing her. And the rehab center where Bill was scheduled for the next several months was waiting for him. She had to go back to Paris, and he was due to return to the States. Their strange idyll was about to end. |
| 6074 |
She was also aware of how duplicitous it was to continue their relationship by phone, but she couldn't bear the thought of being out of touch with him. They had been living together for two months. They had gotten spoiled during their time in the hospital, and the thought of their being apart now frightened her. |
| 6075 |
She was desperate to see Teddy for herself. He had been sounding weaker and weaker on the phone. But Bill said nothing when she mentioned his coming to France, and she didn't notice it. He had promised himself that he would phase himself slowly out of her life if he couldn't walk, or worse, be a man with her. |
| 6076 |
He still didn't quite believe that he would be confined to a wheelchair. But if he was, she had one invalid in her life, and he wasn't going to allow her to have two. Bill couldn't tolerate the idea of her pitying him, or taking care of him as she had her son. She had spent fourteen years with a mortally ill child. |
| 6077 |
He had a myriad of wishes about her, and feared that none of them would come true. The last few days in the hospital seemed to fly by them with the speed of sound. All of her tests were clear, and she had regained some of her strength again. She was ready to leave the hospital, and all the arrangements had been made. |
| 6078 |
They had switched his enormous neck brace to a smaller one, and he could move his head just a little bit. It allowed him to turn his head and look at her more easily, and all he could see now was the look in her eyes. Neither of them needed words for what they were feeling. They had come much farther than that. |
| 6079 |
As though what had happened that night hadn't been punishment enough. But she sensed correctly that he was furious about her being in the car with Bill, and all he assumed it had meant, and now did. They lay there in silence for a long time, watching a full moon in the night sky. And morning came far too soon. |
| 6080 |
They lay together for their last few minutes, and a nurse came in to remind Isabelle that she had to get up. She showered and dressed, and had breakfast with Bill. But neither of them could eat. They just sat looking at each other, as Isabelle choked on a sob, and then she held him in her arms, as he comforted her. |
| 6081 |
Leaving him was worse than leaving home. He was the only source of comfort and love she had. Gordon had sent her some clothes from Paris: a plain black Chanel suit that hung on her now, and a pair of flat black leather shoes that felt too big. She had lost a lot of weight, and her body seemed to have changed. |
| 6082 |
She was rail thin, but she looked more beautiful than ever to Bill. She was wearing her long dark hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, and no makeup, just lipstick. And seeing her that way reminded him of when they'd arrived in June, their first day when they'd gone out for lunch, and Harry's Bar that night. |
| 6083 |
So much had happened, so many bridges had been crossed. It was incredible to think that they'd nearly died, and then found each other again. And now their dreams were about to end. They both had to go back into the real world, a world in which they could not be together, and in fact would be lifetimes apart. |
| 6084 |
No one walked into Bill's room after she left, out of respect for him. No one saw him cry, or turn his eyes toward the ceiling with a look of anguish as he thought of her. If anyone had listened outside his door, they would have heard him sob for a time. It was a sound of dying hope, and lost dreams. |
| 6085 |
She had no luggage with her, and only one small carrying bag, with her toiletries and a few books, and some pictures of her children and Bill. She had never gathered any real belongings at the hospital, and with a glance at her passport, the immigration officer waved her through. There was no one to meet her. |
| 6086 |
She knew that some of it was emotional, but it was also an enormous change for her to be out in the world again. The nurse escorted her through the airport in a wheelchair, as Isabelle sat quietly thinking of Bill. She'd tried to call him before they got in the car, but the nurses in London said he was asleep. |
| 6087 |
She was booked on a flight to go back to London at six o'clock that night. She was just a baby sitter for the ride, as Bill had said, and he thought it was a good idea since Gordon wasn't accompanying her. If Isabelle got dizzy, if she fell, if she got frightened or confused, it was better for her not to be alone. |
| 6088 |
She had been very ill for a very long time and had sustained an enormous shock. The woman had asked her a few pertinent questions about the accident, she had read the chart anyway, and after a while she lapsed into silence, and on the plane she'd read a book. Isabelle felt oddly depressed as they drove into town. |
| 6089 |
He had told her he'd be home at six o'clock, as he always was, he had a busy day scheduled at the office, and she had said she understood. There was more power for him in not being there than in picking her up or meeting her. It was his way of showing her that she did not control him and never would. |
| 6090 |
She thanked the nurse for bringing her home, left her with Josephine, and walked slowly up the stairs to see her children. She stood at the top of the stairs for a moment to catch her breath, and she could hear voices in the distance. For an instant, everything around her faded, except the voice of her son. |
| 6091 |
And on silent feet, she walked to his room, and opened the door. Teddy didn't see her at first, he was lying on his bed, and talking to his favorite nurse, Marthe. Isabelle could hear without seeing him that he sounded tired and plaintive. She said not a word to warn him, and walked into the room with a smile. |
| 6092 |
Isabelle glanced at the nurse, and there were tears on her cheeks as she watched them. But the boy's mother could see from the vast array of pills and syrups next to his bed that he hadn't been well. He'd been in such fine form for once when she left him. But the last two months had taken a heavy toll. |
| 6093 |
She suspected it was caused by one of his medications, but she didn't like it anyway. Some of the breathing medicines he took had made him shake before. What Isabelle didn't like about them was that they were too hard on his heart. But Sophie couldn't have known that, and Isabelle was sure she had done a good job. |
| 6094 |
There were pinks and whites and pale lavenders on an ivory background. And the furniture around the room was all Louis XV. In some ways, it felt good to be there, and she realized that she felt complete again, now that she had seen her children, but at the same time there was a piece of her missing. |
| 6095 |
She felt overwhelmed by how much she missed Bill. It almost gave her a feeling of panic. They had been so brave when she left, but she had no idea when she would see him again. At best, it was going to be a very long time. She longed to hear his voice, to see him smiling at her, or just touch his hand. |
| 6096 |
He was loving and always appreciative of the things people did for him, but he had enormous needs, and had to be constantly tended to and monitored and watched. It was a life of eternal vigilance and literally no rest for those who cared for him. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come home," Isabelle said softly. |
| 6097 |
They came to visit her now and then, but after a few weeks they got tired of how tied down she was. And for most of the summer, her friends had been away. It had been a long, lonely, hard two months for her. And her father had been no help at all. It was as though he didn't want to know anything about Teddy. |
| 6098 |
As it turned out, he only came home at seven. Isabelle was in Teddy's room, reading a book to him, when she saw a tall, dark figure walk by. He must have recognized her voice, but he simply walked on without stopping to look into the room or greet her. Isabelle finished the page, and put the book down. |
| 6099 |
She knew that wasn't possible, but it was his style not to make a fuss about arrivals and departures. He rarely said good bye when he went on a trip, never did when he left for the office in the morning, and when he returned, he usually went to his own rooms to relax for a while before seeing Isabelle or his children. |
| 6100 |
He made no move to come toward her as she stood cautiously in the doorway. "Fine." It was as though the past two months hadn't happened. She felt suddenly as though she had only been gone for two days, and he took no notice of the fact that she'd been gone for two months and had nearly died during her absence. |
| 6101 |
But now that she knew Bill so intimately and how he treated her, it startled her that Gordon was so distant and so cool. The two men couldn't possibly have been more different. There was no acknowledgment of her illness, no celebration, no flowers. He didn't even come to hug her before she quietly left his room. |
| 6102 |
And she knew she would not see him again that night. She was actually surprised when he stopped in to see her for a minute on his way out. He was wearing a dark blue suit, a white shirt, a navy Hermes tie, and smelled of cologne. He looked like he was going to a dinner party, but she didn't ask him. |
| 6103 |
She had just checked on him, and gone back to her own bed, before Gordon walked in to talk to her. "You'd be wise to do the same," he said, once again not approaching her bed. He rarely touched her, never hugged her, hadn't kissed her in years, and kept a noticeable distance from her when they were in the same room. |
| 6104 |
It was also light years from what she had just experienced with Bill, who constantly wanted to hold and touch her. "See you tomorrow," Gordon said, hesitating slightly. For an instant, she thought he might walk fully into the room, and approach her, but without saying anything more, he turned on his heel and left. |
| 6105 |
He'd been lonely all day after she left, but he knew he had to get used to it. All they had now were phone calls. Just like the old days. But after nearly two months of living together, the phone calls seemed like so little to both of them. They both longed for the warmth and closeness they had shared. |
| 6106 |
He still felt sure that in the States they might tell him something different. He had more faith in them. They talked for a while about her homecoming, and the kids, and he had had a call from Jane that afternoon, which had cheered him up a little. And it was only at the end of the call that he asked her about Gordon. |
| 6107 |
Bill told her he loved her when he hung up, and as she lay in her bed that night, in the house that was supposed to be her home, she felt as though she were in a strange place. She felt as though her home was with Bill in London. She didn't hear Gordon come in that night, but she was sleeping soundly in her own room. |
| 6108 |
And she ran into him in the hall the next day, when she was on her way to see Teddy. She had slept later than usual, and it was nearly nine o'clock when she got up. She was wearing a dressing gown, her face was washed and her hair combed when she saw Gordon, rushing toward the stairs with his briefcase. |
| 6109 |
He didn't talk to her, but he waved as he ran down the stairs. He was talking on his cell phone, and a moment later she heard him drive out of the courtyard. She and Teddy had a good day. She read to him a lot, lay on the bed next to him, and it reminded her a little of her time with Bill in the hospital in London. |
| 6110 |
They were with Gordon. He came home looking sullen that night, and offered no explanation for it. He had dinner on a tray in his room, and did not come downstairs to dine with her. He never spoke to her, and never came into her room. And later that night, as she lay in her bed thinking about it, she heard him go out. |
| 6111 |
She knew how vindictive he could be, and she didn't want to start a war with him. She knew that if she did, he would win it. He always did. Gordon was all about power and control, and she knew he wasn't going to tolerate her crossing him. She didn't want to have a showdown with him, if she could possibly avoid it. |
| 6112 |
She had never asked him. She wouldn't have dared. He had established early on in their marriage that he made the rules, and he was free to do what he wanted. He expected her to toe the line, and it was silently agreed between them that she was not to ask questions, or challenge his authority or his independence. |
| 6113 |
That she'd be hit by a bus if she dined with another man? She wondered what he'd do to her if he knew she was sharing a room with Bill in the hospital in London, or if someone had told him. He was making himself very clear to her. He was not going to tolerate anything other than exemplary behavior from her. |
| 6114 |
There was certainly going to be no warmth or support from Gordon. He got up from the table then, picked up his briefcase, and walked out of the room. He had delivered his message, and she heard him leave for the office a moment later. She sat in the dining room for a while, collecting her thoughts, and feeling shaken. |
| 6115 |
Bill tried to explain it to her, but she pointed out to him that she was entirely at his mercy. She had no money of her own, and she had a child who was an invalid, and needed extremely costly medical attention. Hearing her say it upset Bill terribly. He would have liked to marry her, and take care of the boy. |
| 6116 |
In this case, it was fear. He wondered how long it had been like that, and how much abuse she had taken over the years. It seemed to be unlimited, the man had been allowed to run roughshod over her for years, and with her meeting Bill in London and getting exposed by the accident, she had loaded the gun for him. |
| 6117 |
She was in disgrace, even more than he knew, and Gordon was prepared to exact the ultimate price for it. To the uttermost farthing. They talked for a while, and he had to go back to therapy again. He promised to call her later in the afternoon, before Gordon came home from the office. But this time he surprised her. |
| 6118 |
He came home at four o'clock, looking as though he expected to surprise her in some wrongdoing. But Bill had already called her. And she was stretched across Teddy's bed playing cards with him. Teddy had a passion for gin rummy. He liked to play solitaire too, but he much preferred to play games with his mother. |
| 6119 |
The boy was inadequate in Gordon's eyes, and severely flawed, and he dismissed him. He wasn't worthy of his attention, and Teddy knew it. For years now, he had had absolutely no respect for his father, and little affection. Gordon showed him none at all, nor did he show Isabelle any, and hadn't for years. |
| 6120 |
He had hardly spent an evening at home while Isabelle was in the hospital in London, and more than once she had discovered that he was out for the night, but she didn't tell her mother that. She knew she would have been terribly hurt by it. Sophie didn't think he had a girlfriend. He didn't seem the type. |
| 6121 |
And everything had gone sour after that. He reproached her for Teddy's early birth, insisting that she must have done something to provoke it, and it was all her fault. Gordon had disengaged himself from the ailing baby right from the first. And within months, he had detached himself from Isabelle as well. |
| 6122 |
She had wanted his support and his love, it had been a hard time for her. They had almost lost Teddy several times during the first two years of his life, and it terrified her. He was so tiny and so frail and so much at risk, but Gordon had let her know again and again that he thought it was all her fault. |
| 6123 |
She knew she had been wrong to meet him in London, in a clandestine way, but at that point at least, she had done nothing wrong. She intended it to be an innocent encounter, and she had told him that she honored her marriage. It was only in the hospital, after the accident, that everything had changed. |
| 6124 |
Through her parents, she had friends who were useful to him. But once he knew them himself, he pushed her away. It became impossible for him to show affection or love for her. He had been so charming at first, and so cruel so quickly after, and totally self involved, as though she didn't exist, except to serve him. |
| 6125 |
By the time her father died, the marriage had become a nightmare, but she would never have admitted it to anyone. She was too ashamed, and Gordon had convinced her by then that it was her fault. Ever since then, she had poured all her love into Sophie and Teddy. At least, she thought, she had done that right. |
| 6126 |
But she had made a decision to stay with Gordon in spite of it, for her children's sake, and she had to make the best of it. Sophie left the house a little while later, and Gordon and Isabelle had dinner in the dining room. But after the tone of their exchange that morning, very little was said by either of them. |
| 6127 |
It was never said, but understood, as though even conversation with him were an imposition, and wouldn't be of any interest to him. All she ever talked about were the children anyway, which bored him. Isabelle said not a word all through dinner, and after coffee, she went back upstairs to Teddy's room. |
| 6128 |
And as she lay in her bed later, she was thinking about everything Sophie had said. She was a bright, healthy, perceptive girl, and her father's behavior and attitudes appalled her, but her mother's bothered her more. She wanted her to stand up to him, and instead Isabelle defended him, no matter what he did to her. |
| 6129 |
She would have liked to call him and ask him herself where he'd been, but she wouldn't stoop to that. Instead, she went about her business through the day, as Bill had suggested, took care of Teddy, and waited for Gordon to come home again in the evening. And when he did, she asked him nothing, said nothing. |
| 6130 |
He didn't call Cynthia, intentionally, he was trying to keep some distance between them. He thought it was better that way, given the divorce. He had settled a considerable amount of money on her, given her their estate and several cars, and an impressive investment portfolio. He had filed the divorce the month before. |
| 6131 |
And if Cynthia hadn't seen how in love Bill was with Isabelle, she would have believed him. He was able to sit in his seat on the plane comfortably for the first few hours, but after a while his neck and back began to hurt. He was wearing braces on both, and he stretched out, grateful to be traveling on his own plane. |
| 6132 |
It made an enormous difference for him. His doctor had suggested that he refrain from eating or drinking on the flight, which he did. They had also suggested he take a nurse on the flight, but he had resisted the idea, and regretted it once they took off. But he had wanted to prove to himself how independent he was. |
| 6133 |
It was a beautiful fall day, and the air was still warm. It took them half an hour to get to the rehab hospital, it was a large sprawling place with manicured grounds on the outskirts of New York. It looked more like a country club than a hospital, but Bill was too tired to look around when they arrived. |
| 6134 |
He signed in and noticed men and women in wheelchairs and on crutches all around. There were two teams playing basketball from wheelchairs, and people on gurneys watching as they cheered the teams on. The atmosphere seemed friendly and active, and people seemed to be full of energy for the most part. |
| 6135 |
This was going to be his home for the next year, or at best nine months. He felt like a kid who had been sent away to school, and he was homesick for Isabelle and St. Thomas', and all the friendly familiar faces he had come to know there. He didn't even let himself think about his home in Connecticut. |
| 6136 |
It was a reproduction of a water color that looked familiar to him, and he thought he recognized Saint Tropez. He had his own bathroom, and the light in the room was good. There was a fax in the room, a hook up for a computer, and his own phone. They told him he couldn't have a microwave in the room, not that he cared. |
| 6137 |
No matter who he was, or had been, or perhaps would be again, they wanted him to be an active part of their community while he was there. Seeing the hook ups in his room reminded him that he needed to call his secretary. His political pursuits had dwindled to almost nothing in the past two and a half months. |
| 6138 |
But he was too lonely this time not to call. He was planning to hang up if Gordon answered the phone. The phone answered on the second ring, and he heard her voice. It was eleven o'clock at night for her, but she sounded wide awake. Her familiar soft voice went instantly like a knife to his heart, as he longed for her. |
| 6139 |
The people who were motivated to be there were, for the most part, young, with long, potentially productive lives ahead of them. "They look okay, I guess." He sighed, and looked out the window at the Olympic size outdoor pool, and he could see a number of people swimming and wheelchairs parked all around. |
| 6140 |
It was hard to predict what strange turns people's prejudices would take. It was of quintessential importance to him, for an abundance of reasons, to get back on his feet and walk again. In Isabelle's mind, as far as she was concerned, she didn't care if he never did, but she wanted that very much for him. |
| 6141 |
He didn't explain it to Isabelle, because he hadn't told her about the divorce. He still believed that it put less pressure on her if she thought they were both married. She wouldn't think he was waiting for her that way, or looking for someone else. If she ever got free of Gordon, he'd be waiting for her. |
| 6142 |
He had never gotten up out of bed after he talked to her. He had just rolled over and gone to sleep in his clothes, and he woke up when the alarm went off. He was jet lagged and tired and he could hardly move. He rang for an orderly to help him get into his chair again, and make his way into the shower. |
| 6143 |
He had half an hour for lunch, and barely had time to get to the cafeteria, or speak to anyone, and by five o'clock when he got back to his room, he was so tired, he could hardly move. He couldn't even get out of his chair to get on the bed, and he had to ring for an orderly, who smiled when he heard Bill groan. |
| 6144 |
Joe was the senior floor rep, and he had volunteered to do just what he was doing with Bill. It was important for morale to get clients involved in more than just their own therapy. It was what had saved Joe's life. When he'd gotten to the rehab center, he'd been contemplating suicide after the accident. |
| 6145 |
He had done his job well, and in spite of himself, Bill was back in his wheelchair at six fifteen, and he felt better than he had an hour before. He'd showered and shaved and combed his hair. He was wearing a T shirt and jeans, and he and Joe looked like two kids as they headed to the dining hall together. |
| 6146 |
Joe seemed to know everyone on the way, and introduced Bill to everyone he could. Bill knew by then that Joe was twenty two, from Minneapolis. He had graduated from college, and wanted to go to law school the following year. He had two sisters and an identical twin who had been in the accident with him. |
| 6147 |
But he wasn't unusual there, there were a lot of good looking young guys in wheelchairs, Bill guessed that about half of the people he saw were in their twenties and male. The other half covered a wide range of ages, and less than half of them were women or girls. Three quarters of the population were male. |
| 6148 |
She was madly in love with her fiance, and Joe said he was a great guy. They were planning to be married in the spring, and Helena was determined to walk down the aisle under her own steam. And from what he'd seen that night, the indomitable spirit that shone from her like a beacon, Bill figured she could do it. |
| 6149 |
Bill felt bad because he hadn't had time to call Isabelle that night, but it was too late to call her now. It was five in the morning for her. And then he decided to wait an hour and call her when she got up. He lay in bed and read for an hour, trying not to fall asleep, and then at midnight, he called. |
| 6150 |
And in his own bed that night, Bill smiled to himself as he thought of her and drifted off to sleep. Helena's words came back to him just as he was dozing off, and they made sense to him, but he still thought she was wrong for him. He didn't belong in Isabelle's life, or anyone's, if he couldn't learn to walk again. |
| 6151 |
When Olivia and fane came to visit Bill the next day, they were thrilled to see him, and they both thought he was looking well. He showed them around the hospital and the grounds, introduced them to the people he'd met, and then found a quiet corner to sit with them outside in the warm September air. |
| 6152 |
They were still both very upset about the divorce, but they were both distracted by school. They went to the cafeteria for a hamburger in the late afternoon, before they left, and when they got there, they ran into Joe. Bill introduced the three young people to each other, and they seemed to hit it off immediately. |
| 6153 |
And in some ways, she thought he was right to want a divorce, although she wouldn't have admitted it to him. If he'd have been willing to come back to her, she'd have taken him in a flash. But she knew only too well how indifferent she'd been to him for years. She only realized now fully what a great deal she'd had. |
| 6154 |
She had no idea what it was like. And he knew damn well that she could never have put up with it. She would have wound up hating him in the end for all that he wasn't and could no longer be or do. And he would never do that to Isabelle, not even if it meant lying to her and telling her he no longer cared. |
| 6155 |
And as Cynthia had reminded him, there was almost no hope of that. If he had wanted that, he should have gone to Lourdes. As time went on, the weeks at the rehab center went incredibly quickly for Bill. He was so busy, so tired, working so hard at all his therapies, that he hardly had time to come up for air. |
| 6156 |
And he couldn't think of a single reason why he should care what she thought of him, but for some unknown reason, he did. She was a person who commanded attention and respect. She seemed like a no nonsense kind of woman, and at the same time, like the other therapists at the hospital, she seemed caring and warm. |
| 6157 |
They seemed to disregard his physical situation entirely once they were there, and spent all their time asking for his advice. And by Christmas, he was getting constant calls. It was hard enough to concentrate on his varied forms of therapy, and he tried to keep the political issues down to a dull roar. |
| 6158 |
Bill was happy for her, everything seemed to be going fine. The car came for him at four o'clock, and an hour later, he was in Greenwich, pulling up the familiar drive to his old house. It was large and imposing, and he had always loved it, but it gave him a strange feeling being there, a nostalgia for times past. |
| 6159 |
He seemed like a very pleasant, intelligent man. He was a widower with four grown kids, and he seemed very fond of Cynthia, which pleased Bill. He was surprised himself to find that he felt neither jealous nor possessive about her, which confirmed to him once again that the divorce had been the right thing. |
| 6160 |
He and Joe rode back to the hospital together on Christmas night, and talked about what a wonderful holiday it had been. The only thing missing for Bill had been Isabelle. He had called her several times, and she said that everything was fine there, but he could hear in her voice that she was unhappy and stressed. |
| 6161 |
He was still in love with Isabelle, but sitting in Paris with Gordon and her kids, she seemed light years away. And for the first time in a long time, he felt lonely and sad when he got back to his room. Joe had gone off with friends as soon as he got back, and Jane was coming to see him the next day. |
| 6162 |
But he still didn't think it was right for them. "I don't think you can consider anything too serious right now. You're still in school, and well... we'll talk about it sometime." He changed the subject then, and they talked about what a nice holiday they'd had, just like old times, only better actually. |
| 6163 |
They couldn't even talk about meeting again, he still had months of rehab ahead of him. After the call, he lay there for a long time thinking about what Isabelle had said about Jane and Joe. He still disagreed with her, she didn't know what she was talking about, or how great the challenges could be for them. |
| 6164 |
He fell asleep dreaming of their Christmas tree, and for the first time in a long time, he dreamed of the white light again. He was walking toward it, holding Isabelle's hand, and when she turned toward him, he kissed her, and even in his dream he was disturbed to see Jane and Joe coming toward them on the same path. |
| 6165 |
It was a dark day outside, and the weather was unusually cold. It was drafty in the house and she had bundled Teddy up in a sweater over his pajamas, and tucked him in under a quilt. He'd had a good Christmas, and got a ton of books and new games. She'd bought him a big teddy bear to keep him company. |
| 6166 |
Bill was calling her twice a day. She longed for the days when they were in the hospital together, and could talk to each other anytime. She had no desire to go out, or see friends. And when she opened the mail right after Gordon left, she was surprised to see an invitation addressed to both of them. |
| 6167 |
The wife was the head of a couture house, her husband was very old, had a title, and had been the head of an important bank. Isabelle couldn't recall ever meeting them but she assumed that Gordon had met them through some of his social activities that didn't include her, or perhaps he knew the husband from the bank. |
| 6168 |
She had no idea why she'd been suspicious of her, but she knew she was. And suddenly she couldn't help wondering why the countess had called Gordon the night before. She didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it seemed obvious to her. She had a sixth sense that Gordon was having an affair with her. |
| 6169 |
I think her husband bought her a big piece of it, he's about a hundred years old, completely gaga, I assume, and very sick. She'll inherit the money when he dies. He was married before, and his kids hate her guts, from everything I hear. But she's clever enough to cut them out, to the extent she can. |
| 6170 |
Watch out for her, though, she's a real bitch. If she thinks you're a threat to her, she'll go after you. I've seen her do it in the haute couture. She's a real piece of work. She was a little seamstress in some backwater somewhere when she met the old man, and he made her a countess and bought her that fancy job. |
| 6171 |
After she hung up, Isabelle sat staring into space for a long time, and then she called Bill. She woke him out of a sound sleep, but she couldn't wait to tell him all she'd heard. She rattled it all off to him while he tried to wake up, and by the time she was finished, he was sitting up in bed, wide eyed and stunned. |
| 6172 |
But I sure wouldn't tell him to blow his cover, tell all, and get divorced. He'll want this whole mess to disappear as quietly as it can, and that depends on you, my love. The ball, or his balls, if you'll pardon me for saying so, are in your hands. The one thing he won't want is a public scandal, or a divorce. |
| 6173 |
Especially if she's not free yet. He'll want to get out as quietly as possible when she is, and not a moment before. And knowing the personality, I don't think he's going to be apologetic and get nice to you in any case. In the end, he'll always try to blame you. The more he has to hide, the more vicious he'll be. |
| 6174 |
Be very careful, sweetheart. If you corner him, he'll rip out your throat. I know his type, and he's not going to back down, or go quietly into the night, he'll kill you first. For whatever reason, this marriage has served a purpose for him, and whatever it is, he doesn't want you messing with that. |
| 6175 |
Isabelle and Gordon played cat and mouse with each other for the next month and nothing changed, but then again, it hadn't in years. He had a life with the woman, an apartment, a relationship, in some ways he was more married to her than he was to Isabelle. Just as in some ways, she felt more married to Bill. |
| 6176 |
His neck hardly caused him any problem anymore, his shoulders had grown, his hips were slim, and in a bathing suit, when he swam, he looked like a very young man. More of the sensation in his legs had returned, and he could move more easily in his wheelchair, but not only could he not walk, he couldn't stand. |
| 6177 |
But if you don't want me to marry her, if you say no, I'll tell her I thought about it and changed my mind. If that's what you want, I'd rather she hate me than you, you're her father, she needs you, maybe even more than she needs me. And I don't want to be part of your family if you don't want me to be. |
| 6178 |
She no longer felt guilty about what she felt for Bill, and she stayed away from Gordon most of the time. She made no apologies, expected nothing from him. He was simply a man she no longer knew who lived at the same address. Bill was only worried that Gordon would sense something too different in her. |
| 6179 |
The only one worse would have been if Isabelle had died when they were hit by the bus. His not being able to walk, to him, meant never seeing her again. He would rather have died than burden her with his infirmities. And he felt as though he had died when they told him there was nothing more they could do. |
| 6180 |
He had talked about it with Isabelle, and she had come to believe it would do him good to go back to work. She could tell that he was discouraged at times that he hadn't made more progress in the rehab center, but they had taken him as far as they could. And she sensed correctly that he was stalling about moving on. |
| 6181 |
She still missed him terribly, and she had asked him to come to see her when he got out of the rehab facility. But whenever she asked him about it, he was vague. She knew it was too soon for him to make travel plans, but she hoped he would soon. She hadn't seen him in seven months, which seemed an eternity to her. |
| 6182 |
He tormented himself over it constantly as time went on, and had been for a while. He wanted to see her, but it didn't seem right to him. Once he truly understood and accepted the fact that he would never walk again, it changed everything for him. And their calls didn't seem as innocent to him anymore. |
| 6183 |
He had nothing to give her except words. The one thing he didn't want was her pity. He couldn't have borne it. And he knew that, if he chose to leave her, for her sake, she had to believe he was whole. If she didn't, and thought he needed her, she would never let him go. He knew that much about her. |
| 6184 |
He didn't want her to feel abandoned, but, he told himself, in the long run it was best for her. If he could have given her a future, the kind he wanted to, he would have waited forever for her, but now that he knew he couldn't and would be in a wheelchair forever, he told himself he had to let her go, for her sake. |
| 6185 |
It was becoming a wrestling match between Bill and his conscience every day. The one blessing, other than Bill, in her life, was the fact that Teddy had improved radically in the past two months. She didn't know if it was the weather, or just blind luck, but he seemed stronger and better than he had all year. |
| 6186 |
And she thanked God for the blessing he was in her life, when he turned fifteen on the first of May. It was the following afternoon that Bill called, and began laying the groundwork for what he had convinced himself he had to do. He told her the first lie he ever had. He had thought about it long and hard. |
| 6187 |
And Bill knew that there would never be a good time to do what he believed he had to do, but this seemed better than most. With a pounding heart, he called to tell her that he had fantastic news, and tried to make himself sound convincing. She knew him so well, he was afraid she'd know it wasn't true. |
| 6188 |
But in his mind, there was nothing else he could do. He knew now that he had to let her go, for her sake, and to convince her that he was whole. She had Teddy to take care of, she didn't need the burden of Bill too. As he was, he felt he had nothing to offer her, no matter what eventually happened with Gordon. |
| 6189 |
He could not let her pity him, rescue him, take care of him. If he wasn't able to walk, he refused to stay in Isabelle's life. And what he had just told her, about having walked that day, was the first step toward setting her free. In his mind, it was all he had left to give. It was like freeing a beautiful bird. |
| 6190 |
He felt he had no choice, but it tainted all their phone calls, because he was lying to her. She was warm and wonderful and vulnerable and trusting, and he loved her so much. Enough not to stay in her life as he was. He saw himself now as a half person, or less, who had nothing to offer a woman anymore. |
| 6191 |
Even if parts of him worked, there were others that did not, and never would. In effect, in his eyes, the prognosis the therapists had given him had destroyed what was left of his life, and what he shared with Isabelle. And when Bill wasn't talking to her, he was setting up his future life in Washington. |
| 6192 |
Bill had agreed to stay at the rehab center for another month, but his heart no longer appeared to be in it in any way. He had already moved on, in his head. He seemed distracted and quiet, and when he wasn't paying attention to the people around him, which was frequently now, he looked depressed, and was. |
| 6193 |
She was heading his way, and she almost ran him down as she sped past him in her chair. "Hey, hit and run is a felony!" Bill shouted at her, and she slowed to a stop without turning to look at him and then put her face in her hands and started sobbing. He moved his wheelchair next to hers, and touched her shoulder. |
| 6194 |
And then she looked at him with ravaged eyes. And as she took her hand away from her face, he could see that her ring was gone, the enormous diamond she'd been wearing since he met her nine months before. It was easy to guess what had happened. "Do you want to come talk for a while?" he offered, and she nodded. |
| 6195 |
The slurring of her speech had improved immeasurably in the past nine months, but the rest of her situation had not and never would. It was exactly what he was afraid of for Joe and Jane, and why he wanted to free Isabelle now before she came to hate him for all that he no longer was, or couldn't do. |
| 6196 |
And if she didn't have the sense to do it, he did, for her sake. He had worked himself into a frenzy over it in the last weeks, and convinced himself he was right. What Sergio had just done to her confirmed everything he thought, that "whole" people did not belong with people who were anything less than that. |
| 6197 |
She was so emphatic about their limitations not making a difference to the people who loved them, that he almost wondered if she was right, but not quite. She was a young woman, and if a man wanted to take care of her, it was one thing. He was a man, and he felt he had to be able to offer more than that. |
| 6198 |
It was the lie that made it impossible for him to see her again. Like poisoning his food, he couldn't go near it again. But that had been his plan. And he had no intention of backing out now, no matter what Helena said. It had already gone too far, and he still believed that leaving her was the right thing to do. |
| 6199 |
He sounded different and distant and unhappy. All she could guess was that he was nervous about leaving the protected environment of the rehab facility and starting a new life. But now that he could walk again, as far as she knew, it was all going to be so much easier for him, and she was so relieved. |
| 6200 |
She noticed that he was doing that a lot these days, hopping from one topic to another, as though he was uncomfortable suddenly talking about anything in depth. It was so unlike him, and the conversations they'd shared for nearly five years. She knew him better than he thought, better than he wanted her to. |
| 6201 |
She had the distinct feeling he was avoiding her, and she didn't know why. It had started happening from one day to the next, literally overnight. What she didn't know was that his vagueness had started the day his therapists had confirmed that he would never walk again. That had been the turning point for him. |
| 6202 |
She couldn't leave Teddy for that long or venture that far away. By the time the wedding came, Isabelle was panicked. He had missed calling her a few times, and when she asked him about it, he said he'd been too busy. He had found an apartment in Washington, and met with the young senator about his campaign. |
| 6203 |
A lot. It was a beautiful wedding, a great party, and everyone had a great time. And as he rode back to the rehab facility that night, all Bill could think about was Isabelle. He stayed in his room and didn't even go to physical therapy for two days, and then he finally got up the guts to make the call. |
| 6204 |
He knew that the concern she had felt was nothing compared to the pain she was going to feel. After five years of talking to her, it was inconceivable to no longer have her in his life. But he was certain now that it was the final gift that he owed her. "How was the wedding?" she asked innocently, and he sighed. |
| 6205 |
She couldn't even speak for a moment, and she thought she was going to pass out. She couldn't get air in her lungs, and she could feel her heart for the first time since the accident. It was as though he had dropped a wrecking ball on her, and she was too crushed to answer. But she knew she had to say something. |
| 6206 |
Gone. Lost to her. She couldn't imagine living without him, couldn't imagine what her life would be like without his calls. It was like a death sentence in a life where she already had so little. All she had were her children now. And as Teddy watched, she got up and got her coat and then came to give him a hug. |
| 6207 |
She longed to hear Bill's voice, but she didn't even know where he was anymore. She knew he had gone to Washington, and she wondered if Cynthia had gone with him. But wherever he was, he no longer belonged to her, and she knew now he never had. He had been a temporary gift in her life, and she was grateful for him. |
| 6208 |
Losing Bill was much harder than surviving the bus. The impact this time was to her soul. Even Gordon noticed it during the little time he spent in the house. He wondered if her obviously failing health was related to her accident, and when Sophie saw her when she returned from school, she was terrified. |
| 6209 |
It had been exactly one year. It was hard to believe Bill was out of her life. And lately, she found herself wishing she had died during the accident. It would have been so much easier than what she was going through now. She wondered if the pain would ever stop, and doubted it. Each day was worse than the one before. |
| 6210 |
She hadn't even bothered to call, and she knew Gordon wouldn't check to see if she had. It crossed his mind that some very intense emotional pain must have been the cause of it, a failed love affair, a broken heart. A warning bell in his head made him think of Bill, and he rejected the idea just as fast. |
| 6211 |
And Isabelle was content to be alone with Teddy. She was reading to him again and making an effort for him, in order not to worry him, but she couldn't imagine ever being herself again. It had been easier to get over the accident than to lose Bill. She woke every morning now thinking of him, and wishing she were dead. |
| 6212 |
Even the doctor was concerned by how unresponsive he was. And at the end of two more days, he had pneumonia. He was rapidly going from bad to worse. Five days after it started, the doctor put him in the hospital, and Isabelle stayed there with him. She thought about calling Gordon, but it seemed wrong to bother him. |
| 6213 |
And as the third week began, Teddy slipped into unconsciousness. He had several seizures, and his pneumonia was worse. Isabelle couldn't imagine how he'd survived this long, and she just sat in the hall and cried, and then went back in the room to sit next to him. And that night she called Gordon again. |
| 6214 |
But he was talking to them. This time, when the doctor came, he shook his head. The boy's heart was giving out. It was the moment Isabelle had dreaded all his life, and now it had come. She looked devastated, and felt strangely calm, as she waited with her son for whatever hand Fate would deal them. |
| 6215 |
He had had a lifetime of pain and never complained. And he didn't complain now. He just held her hand in his and drifted between sleep and waking. She had an uncontrollable urge to hang on to him, to keep him from the edge of the abyss where his soul was dancing. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him. |
| 6216 |
Teddy looked beautiful as he lay on the bed, and the two women hugged him and kissed him for a last time, and then walked quietly out of the room. It was a hot sunny day and Isabelle felt lost when she reached the street. She couldn't believe he had left them. It was unimaginable, unthinkable, unbearable. |
| 6217 |
They picked a simple white casket, and Isabelle ordered flowers, lilies of the valley and white roses, and she knew no one would come to his funeral but them, and his nurses. He had never gone to school, had no friends, and Isabelle had led a secluded life for years. They were the only ones who had known and loved him. |
| 6218 |
Gordon had said he didn't want to see him, which Isabelle understood. He had never been able to tolerate Teddy's frailty or illness, and although he was his father, he barely knew him. He had resisted knowing him all his life, and it was too late now. The three of them had dinner in the dining room that night. |
| 6219 |
She felt as though she were moving underwater or recovering from another coma. She had no idea how ill she looked by the time they got home. She could hardly breathe or move. Every instant was intolerably painful. It was late that afternoon when Gordon came into her bedroom, and frowned as he looked down at her. |
| 6220 |
Isabelle had had enough of the pretense and the sham they had already played out for too many years, and she wasn't going to be fobbed off now on the pretext that he thought she should be with Sophie. She was devastated by losing Teddy, but she was not going to become a nuisance to her daughter while she grieved him. |
| 6221 |
And she remembered what Bill had said when he left, about saving the ammunition until Gordon attacked her again, and he finally had. On the day of Teddy's funeral. It was an appalling cruelty and disrespect, but not surprising from him. Gordon stood looking at her as though he wanted to slap her, but didn't dare. |
| 6222 |
He sounded like a wounded lion, and he came so close to her, she could see his every pore. He was so angry, he was shaking. "You don't know what you're talking about!" he shouted at her, stunned by what she had just said. It was a blow he hadn't expected, and for a moment, it knocked him off balance. |
| 6223 |
Teddy, Bill, her home, her marriage. Everything she had known or loved or cherished or counted on or believed in had come to an end. There was nothing left for her to do but begin again. And as she looked at her daughter, Sophie came and put her arms around her, and the two women hugged without saying a word. |
| 6224 |
Teddy who had taken her by the hand and led her away. Bill hadn't been able to do it, and he had left first. And she would never have had the courage to do it herself. But Teddy, in freeing himself of the earthly body that had been such torture to him, had finally freed his mother from the life that had tormented her. |
| 6225 |
They had nothing left to say, and she was sure he was with the Comtesse de Ligne. Isabelle wandered around the house aimlessly for a while, absorbing all that had happened. She sat in Teddy's room for hours, and cried, and then suddenly smiled through her tears as she remembered things he had done or said. |
| 6226 |
She seemed lost in another world. And by herself, late one night, she began to pack up his things. He had so little, as though he had only been passing through this world. He had books, puzzles, toys from his childhood, endless nightclothes, some religious articles the nurses had given him over the years. |
| 6227 |
And there was a very handsome one of Isabelle and Gordon on their wedding day. It was the only photograph of his father he'd ever had, or wanted. She packed it all up, and stayed up until morning to do it, and by the time Sophie got up in the morning, it was done. There were neatly packed boxes stacked in his room. |
| 6228 |
It was the perfect excuse for disposing of her. It was like suddenly catching a glimpse of a deep dark cave, and seeing the monster who lived there. In the old days, it would have terrified her, but it no longer did. She wanted nothing to do with the monster anymore. "I expect you to move out quickly," he said coldly. |
| 6229 |
He had dispensed with her, and all he wanted was for her to disappear. It was so perfectly convenient. She served no purpose and had become a problem. And he wanted her removed. She had exposed him, and he couldn't tolerate that. She had shined a far too bright light on him, and refused to be fooled. |
| 6230 |
And she knew, as she listened to him tell her how he would destroy her reputation, that she would never recover entirely from the betrayal of people she had once loved so passionately. It dissolved any faith she'd once had in life being fair, and things ending happily. There were no happy endings in her world. |
| 6231 |
And it would have been so perfect for him if she'd been willing to disappear to Grenoble. He could have said she was in a sanatorium, or had gone mad, or was suffering from depression. He could have said almost anything, as long as no one saw her anymore. But she had no intention of making things that easy for him. |
| 6232 |
How quickly it was all reduced to what belonged to whom. All she wanted were her clothes, Teddy's things, some of her parents' paintings and antiques, and the few pieces of jewelry Gordon had given her. She never wanted to see the rest of it again, and she was only taking the jewelry so she could give it to Sophie. |
| 6233 |
She would stay at the rue de Grenelle when she visited her father, but with her mother and Teddy gone, it depressed her just thinking about it. Isabelle had had the settlement papers from Gordon by then. He was offering her a small settlement, which in no way reflected the life they had shared for twenty one years. |
| 6234 |
In truth, she wanted nothing from him, and it confirmed everything she'd thought when she'd been afraid to leave him because of Teddy. He would have starved them to death if she left. She wanted very little from him now, just enough to cover her, in case something untoward happened to her or she got sick. |
| 6235 |
It was hers. Most of all, Isabelle was surprised by how easily she had adjusted to her new life. She didn't miss Gordon, the only one she missed incredibly was Teddy, her heart ached for him constantly. The new apartment had given her some distraction, but there was no hiding from the fact that he was gone. |
| 6236 |
In some ways, it was easier being in a new place, she couldn't wander the halls that he had once walked, or sit in the room where she had sat with him for hours. And in spite of her new location, she had not only taken her grief for Teddy with her, her endless longing for Bill had followed her there as well. |
| 6237 |
It was inconceivable to her that she would never see him again, and that, after five years of talking to her, advising her, comforting her, being her mentor and best friend, and finally lover, he had simply shut her out and left. It was the last thing she had ever expected of him, the only cruel thing he had ever done. |
| 6238 |
She'd been having a very bad day over Teddy, and finally gave up trying to cheer herself up. She'd gone to bed and turned on the TV to distract herself. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he talked and moved, made an impassioned speech, and then turned right toward the camera, as though he were speaking to her. |
| 6239 |
She wanted to wish him well with his renewed vows to Cynthia, but she couldn't. She was still too hurt by what he had done to her. She could still remember every word he had said to her when he had told her it was over between them. She hadn't deserved that, she had loved him so much, and they'd been so happy. |
| 6240 |
She was agonizing, remembering all of it, when the camera pulled back at the end of the speech, and she saw someone wheel him away. Her mouth fell open as she watched it. He had told her the use of his legs had fully returned, and it was obvious from what she was seeing that he was still confined to a wheelchair. |
| 6241 |
What purpose could it possibly serve? And then as she watched him disappear off the screen with a wave to several people in the crowd, she remembered what he had said from the first. Already in London, he had hinted darkly that if he couldn't walk again, he wouldn't stay with her, so as not to be a burden on her. |
| 6242 |
He had never spelled it out to her, but she had understood what he meant, and thought he was just depressed. She hadn't really believed him then, and thought he was dramatizing, but she suddenly wondered if he'd meant what he said. It was as though she could hear his words now, as clear as could be. |
| 6243 |
And suddenly she wondered if he had lied about everything else. She sat in her bed for a long time, wondering what to do next, how to find out what had happened. She wanted to pick up the phone and ask him. But if he had wanted her to know the truth, he would have told her five months before, instead of lying to her. |
| 6244 |
She tossed back the covers and got out of bed, and began pacing her bedroom as the television droned on. She turned it off so she could think more clearly, and then looked at her watch. It was noon in Washington, and six o'clock at night in Paris. And then she had an idea, ran to the kitchen, and grabbed the phone. |
| 6245 |
She explained that Mr. Robinson had encouraged her to call for her committee on literacy in children in the Deep South, and she could hear the assistant pay attention to her. Isabelle knew that literacy all over America was of great importance to him, and he urged all his candidates to espouse it as a valuable cause. |
| 6246 |
He had freed her, for her sake, out of some crazy lunatic idea he had that he owed that to her, because he loved her. Or maybe he didn't love her anymore... but two things were sure, he was no longer married to Cynthia, and he was still in a wheelchair. "Thank you so much," she breathed into the phone to his assistant. |
| 6247 |
She couldn't sleep that night, and left for the airport the next morning at eleven o'clock. She had to be there at noon. And she could hardly contain herself on the flight. She had no idea how to see him, or what to say to him when she did. Maybe he'd be furious with her for finding him out and hunting him down. |
| 6248 |
If he had wanted to be with her, she told herself, he would have been. He had made himself perfectly clear, she argued with herself all the way across the Atlantic. But he was wrong. That was the whole point. He was entirely, totally wrong. He didn't have to do that for her, didn't have to sacrifice himself. |
| 6249 |
But she was going to give it one hell of a try. She had his office address in her pocket, and trembling in the chill air, she stepped into a cab, and gave the driver the address of the Four Seasons Hotel in Georgetown, where she'd made a reservation the night before. All she had to do now was find out where he was. |
| 6250 |
There were a thousand scenarios in her head, and she had no idea how any of them would work out. And as she stared at the phone, she was beginning to think she'd made a terrible mistake. Maybe he had just fallen out of love with her. Finally, after another half hour of total terror, she picked up the phone. |
| 6251 |
And he would be leaving at ten o'clock for his next event. She could either confront him on the way in, or the way out, or she could make a scene at dinner, hide under his table, or pull a gun on him... the possibilities were endless, and most of them sounded absolutely hopeless to her now that she was here. |
| 6252 |
And after that she sat in her room worrying about what she was going to say to him, or if he'd even give her a chance to speak. It was a distinct possibility that he would just brush her off and tell her there was nothing to say. It was Bill who had said that he never wanted to see her again, but he had lied to her. |
| 6253 |
She didn't want to wait. They had waited long enough. She couldn't eat that night, she tried to take a nap and was wide awake. In the end, she took a bath and dressed, and at nine thirty she was in the limousine, speeding toward the Kennedy Center, and then panicked when they reached the side entrance. |
| 6254 |
She was numb with worry by the time she got out of the car, and went to stand off to the side, where she could watch the entrance, and see him when he came out. It was freezing cold, but she didn't care, and then like some kind of terrifying omen, it started to snow. Big lacy flakes began drifting down from the sky. |
| 6255 |
They came with no warning, and there was a brisk wind that seemed to blow them everywhere. By ten fifteen there was no sign of him, and she was sure he had left by some other door. Maybe there had been a change of plan. Isabelle was wearing a big heavy black coat and a sable hat, warm black suede boots, and gloves. |
| 6256 |
She'd have to attempt some other ploy the next day. She told herself she'd stay until eleven o'clock, just so she could tell herself she had, but she was sure that Bill and the senator would be long gone by then, to their next event. But at ten to eleven, there was a flurry of activity near the door. |
| 6257 |
Isabelle hadn't seen it before. He looked vaguely like the senator to her, but she wasn't sure from the angle of his face. She watched him for a moment, and no one else came out. She was wondering if Bill hadn't come at all, or had decided to stay. And as she watched, she saw a wheelchair roll slowly out. |
| 6258 |
He was wearing a thick scarf and a dark coat, and she saw instantly that it was Bill. She could feel her heart pound as she watched him wheel himself toward the steps, and then take a ramp down toward where she stood. He hadn't noticed her, and the others left him and ran back inside to escape the snow. |
| 6259 |
He just wheeled himself the rest of the way down the ramp, without looking back at her, and got into the car. He apologized to the senator for the delay, and said he had run into an old friend. He didn't say another word all the way to their next stop, and the senator sensed the somberness of his mood. |
| 6260 |
She had to accept it now. Even if he had lied to her, this was what he wanted in the end. She had been right months before, there were no happy endings. There were only lessons and losses, and she had had a lot of those. She was awake most of the night, and when she fell asleep at last, she was dreaming of him. |
| 6261 |
Maybe love was only for the young. In any case, he had come to the hotel that night to see her, and explain things, and say good bye to her decently. He at least owed her that, he had told himself before coming to the Four Seasons. He knew that the way he had left her before had been inordinately cruel. |
| 6262 |
Their kisses were filled with tenderness and passion, and the memory of all they had hoped for, barely tasted, and lost too soon. And as he held her, for an instant he forgot his lost manhood, and felt desire race through him like a tide that could not be turned back, and neither of them had any inclination to. |
| 6263 |
It was everything they had both dreamed of and hoped for, and the kind of longing and openness and passion he had never experienced before in his life. Not even before the accident, or in his youth. There was no one in the world like her. She made him feel like a man again, and they were both overcome by desire. |
| 6264 |
And afterward, he lay with his arms around her and smiled. His worst fears had vanished, swept away by her tenderness and love. Everything that had just happened between them was better than either of them could have imagined. It was obvious that whatever had remained of his injuries before had been healed. |
| 6265 |
The senator won the election, and she was pleased for Bill. She saw him on the news sitting in his wheelchair off to the side, the power behind the scenes. He never called her, and she didn't call him again. She believed him now. And she knew that, no matter how wrong she thought he was, she had to respect how he felt. |
| 6266 |
It broke her heart to accept it, but she couldn't force him to come back to her. She had to accept the choice he'd made, no matter how much she disagreed with him. It was his right, just as it was hers to believe that they could have had a wonderful life. She would have been proud to be with him, wheelchair or not. |
| 6267 |
Maybe she'd even stop loving him one day. It would be a mercy for her when she did. On Wednesday morning she packed the few things she'd brought, and called the bellman to collect her bag. Her flight was at one o'clock, and she left the hotel at ten. And as she closed the door to her room, the telephone rang. |
| 6268 |
They already had someone waiting for it. The ride to the airport was quiet and long. It had snowed again the night before, and Washington looked beautiful under a blanket of snow. She checked in for her flight, and after a while, went to buy some magazines and a book, so she'd have something to read on the plane. |
| 6269 |
I remember the moment perfectly. I was lying on the floor of our bedroom, halfway under the bed, looking for a shoe, with my favorite well worn flannel nightgown halfway to my neck, when my husband walked in, wearing gray flannel slacks and a blazer. As always, he looked immaculate, and was impeccably dressed. |
| 6270 |
I only discovered it half an hour later, when my nose was red and I was crying, and happened to see myself in the mirror. But at this point in the saga, I was still smiling, with no inkling of what was to come. "I asked you to sit down," he said, eyeing my costume, my hairdo, and my smile, with interest. |
| 6271 |
At that point, I was still suffering from the delusion that married women don't have to try as hard. Apparently, I was sorely mistaken, as I discovered only moments later. We sat down across from each other in the two satin covered chairs at the foot of our bed, as I thought again how stupid it was to have them there. |
| 6272 |
They always looked to me as though we were meant to sit there and negotiate going to bed. But Roger said he liked them that way, apparently they reminded him of his mother. I had never looked past that statement for a deeper meaning, which was, perhaps, part of the problem. Roger talked a lot about his mother. |
| 6273 |
But he didn't have that sheepish look in his eyes. It wasn't his job this time, or a holiday, it was a different kind of surprise. The nightgown looked a little frail as we sat in the satin chairs, me sliding slowly forward uncomfortably. I had forgotten how slippery they were, since as a rule I never sat there. |
| 6274 |
There were several small tears in the ancient flannel I was wearing, nothing too revealing of course, and since I get cold at night, I was wearing a frayed T shirt underneath. It was a look that had worked well for me, for thirteen years of marriage with him. Lucky thirteen, or at least it had been till then. |
| 6275 |
Roger had never been a raging success in his career. He had played at advertising when we were first married, had a number of jobs in marketing after that, and invested in a series of less than stellar deals. But I never really cared. He was a nice man, and he was good to me. I wanted to be married to him. |
| 6276 |
And thanks to the grandfather who had set up a trust fund for me before he died, we always had enough money not just to get by, but to live pretty comfortably. Umpa's trust fund had not only provided well for me, but for Roger and the kids, and allowed me to be understanding about the financial mistakes Roger made. |
| 6277 |
I'm pretty even tempered, a good sport most of the time, and never asked a lot of him. We got along better than most of my friends, or so I thought, and I was grateful for that. I always knew we were in it for the long haul, and figured that fifty years with Roger would not be a bad deal. Certainly not for him. |
| 6278 |
We never argued about the important stuff, like how to bring up the children, or where they went to school. There was nothing to argue about. I took care of all that. He was always too busy playing tennis or golf, or going fishing with friends, or nursing the worst cold in history, to argue with me about the kids. |
| 6279 |
He figured that was my domain. He may have been a great dancer, and a lot of fun at times, but responsibility was not his thing. Roger took care of himself more than he took care of me, but in thirteen years I had somehow managed not to notice that. All I had wanted was to get married at the time, and have kids. |
| 6280 |
My husband of thirteen years tells me he no longer loves me and I'm not supposed to at least suspect a rival with enormous breasts who remembers to shave her legs more often than just at the change of the seasons. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not entirely disgusting, nor am I covered with fur, nor do I have a mustache. |
| 6281 |
My life was on a tightrope and teetering badly. He finally managed to unwind my arms from around his neck, and I retreated to my bathroom, where I sobbed into a towel and then took a good look at myself, and saw not only the hairdo that eight hours on my pillow had achieved, but the remains of the blueberry muffin. |
| 6282 |
Looking back, I wonder if I had relied on the trust fund to keep him for me. Maybe I assumed that his natural ineptitude would make him dependent on me. But clearly, even that hadn't done the trick. I had thought that sparing him any responsibility, and being a good sport about everything, would make him love me more. |
| 6283 |
More than ever, I needed my old standbys. I wore them with mismatched pairs of Roger's socks now. But Roger was in therapy by then, and more convinced than ever that he was doing the right thing by leaving me. He wasn't even in trouble at work this time, and had stopped talking about writing a novel. |
| 6284 |
He moved out two weeks later. I will try to spare you the boring details, and hit only the high points. According to him all the silver, china, good furniture, the stereo, the computer, and sports equipment was his, because he had written the checks that paid for them, although my trust fund had supplied his checkbook. |
| 6285 |
I had had barnacles on my bottom, my sails were frayed, and my paint was chipping. But I was still a damn fine boat, and he should have loved me enough to see me through it. The blunt truth was, he didn't, probably never had. Except for two wonderful children, it was thirteen years wasted. Gone. Poof. |
| 6286 |
Vanished. Like Roger. He was out of my life completely, except to argue with me about changing my plans and keeping the children every time he wanted to be with Miss Bimbo. Worse yet, it turned out that she not only had great legs, but she had a trust fund bigger than mine, which really said it all to me. |
| 6287 |
Or would he finally try to support himself? Maybe he didn't care anymore. Pride no longer entered into it, but it sure made me look back at where we'd started with a jaundiced eye. We had moved in with each other after I finished college. I'd been working as a junior editor at a magazine at the time. |
| 6288 |
But Roger kept insisting he didn't want to get married until he could support me, and our kids one day. Six years somehow slipped by, Roger changed jobs four times, and I was still in the same one. And then, when I turned twenty eight, my grandfather died, and left the trust fund to take care of me. |
| 6289 |
A stroke of luck that came along at the right time and made his life easy. It was impossible to know, in the end, what had been in his heart and mind in the beginning. At that moment, with those questions raiding around in my head, I became one of the walking wounded. Which prepared me perfectly for dating. |
| 6290 |
I told myself he had done me a favor, though I didn't entirely believe it. I missed my old illusions, the comfort of having a husband, a warm body in my bed to cuddle up to, a person to talk to, someone to watch the children for me when I had a fever. It's funny the things you miss when you no longer have them. |
| 6291 |
Shows you what loyalty can do to a kid's eyesight. By Christmas, thirteen months after that fateful day when Roger sat in the satin chair at the foot of our bed and let me have it right between the eyes, I had even stopped crying. Even the blueberry muffin was a dim memory by then, and in fact, so was Roger. |
| 6292 |
Or going back a little further in history, it's a little bit like being a Christian in the Colosseum. You put on a hell of a good show, but you know that sooner or later, one of the lions is going to eat you. And there are a lot of them, lions I mean. Some are merely pussycats, others pretend to be. |
| 6293 |
I go for long walks late at night, and sit for hours in freezing cold air conditioned movies. It was also hard for me to believe that Roger had been gone for nearly two years. I no longer dreamed about him at night, I no longer ached for him, I no longer remembered quite so precisely what his body looked like. |
| 6294 |
I figured I'd let Helena figure that one out for herself. After all, taking care of his kids is part of loving Roger. Funnier still that she'd almost had her tubes tied at twenty five, after liposuction and silicone, because she didn't want to ruin her figure, but decided to take the pill instead, Charlotte told me. |
| 6295 |
I had given up a lot for Roger. I had grown used to my own company, occasional solitude, and the slippery cool feeling of the satin nightgowns that had replaced my flannels. I had brought four of them with me to Paris, a new batch actually, since the first ones I had bought right after he left had already gotten tired. |
| 6296 |
And then, like a baby, I awoke starving. Croissants and coffee the color of tar arrived in my room on a tray with beautiful linens and silver, and a single rose in a crystal vase. And I devoured everything but the rose and the linens. I took a bath, and dressed, and then spent the day wandering around Paris. |
| 6297 |
Maybe my son Sam would love it. It might teach him something. I could hear him thirty years hence... my mother always wore the most beautiful underwear and nightgowns. It would give the women in his life something to live up to, and Charlotte something to sneer at. I wondered if she would still want the nose pierce. |
| 6298 |
I was still standing there, trying to think of something clever to say, when he walked right past me. Without a smile, a look, a glance in my direction. He marched right by me into my hotel, and I wondered how he knew I was staying there, or why he cared. He was probably waiting for me in the lobby. |
| 6299 |
Clearly, after two years of readjusting to everything in life from sleepwear to dating, I had lost my perspective. He was collecting his key from the porno star at the desk when I walked into the lobby. And this time, he turned and smiled at me, and something very primal deep in my soul spoke to me. |
| 6300 |
If nothing else, he was great to look at. Instinctively, I looked for a wedding ring, but didn't see one. He was probably one of those guys who cheated regularly, and slipped the ring off and left it in his pocket. I could only assume the worst about him. In my opinion, he was much too good looking to be decent. |
| 6301 |
We left our rooms at the same time, perfectly synchronized, and rode down in the elevator together. It was raining, a light rain, but I had come prepared, and I was wearing a raincoat and carrying an umbrella. I knew I could hit him with it if he assaulted me, and was fiercely disappointed when he didn't. |
| 6302 |
I left out the scene on the satin chairs, and the fact that Roger had more or less left me for Helena, or maybe just because he didn't love me. I told him about the kids, that I was divorced, and had worked at a magazine as an editor for six years before I got married, but I even managed to make that sound boring. |
| 6303 |
Charlotte was wearing pale pink nail polish, instead of green, and had settled for a second pierce in her ear, which seemed to satisfy her lust for self mutilation, temporarily at least. Roger looked exhausted. He barely said hello, when he ran out the door, waving vaguely and saying he had to meet Helena. |
| 6304 |
After a week of talking only to them, cleaning up after the Great Dane, who did the same thing in our house he did on the lawn, I was sure I was ready for an evening of strictly adult conversation. I was more than willing to drop them at the nearest orphanage, forget the fridge, or at the very least call a sitter. |
| 6305 |
He was much too handsome, too smart, too sure of himself. He was wearing white jeans, a blue shirt, and his feet were bare in an impeccably shined pair of Gucci loafers. I stumbled through the appropriate small talk, reminding myself that I wasn't a total loss, and all of my friends, husbands still found me attractive. |
| 6306 |
He said he liked kids, and looked as though he might even have meant it. He told me about a sailboat he'd had in San Francisco, and how much he had loved it, and was thinking of buying another. He admitted to a weakness for fast cars, and slow women, and we laughed at each other's stories about dating. |
| 6307 |
But he seemed to be doing fine with the white dress and the turquoise beads. It was midnight before he drove me back, and as we walked into the house, I was less than thrilled to find the kids still awake, watching TV in the living room, with the dog asleep on the couch next to Sam, and the sitter asleep in my bedroom. |
| 6308 |
Charlotte's glance at him was colder than the refrigerator that had been fixed that morning. I offered Peter some wine, but he drank one of the Dr Peppers, and we sat in the kitchen for a while, chatting, while the kids monopolized the living room. And eventually, I went to wake the sitter and pay her. |
| 6309 |
We chatted easily for a while, and then had lunch with Sam. Charlotte had lunch with her friends on the terrace, and seemed to have forgotten about Peter. Having disposed of him on the court, she had lost interest in him. There were two fourteen year old boys in the group who were far more captivating than he was. |
| 6310 |
He promised to take me sailing. I told him about a show at the Met I was dying to see, and he offered to go with me. It was a terrific weekend, and so was the next one, and the one after that. Charlotte still thought he was a dork, but there was less energy in her complaining. They saw a lot of the sitter that summer. |
| 6311 |
And inevitably, Charlotte's predictions proved to be right. Peter suggested he come out for the weekend when he heard that the children were spending Labor Day weekend with their father. I was expecting him to stay at the hotel, as usual, and was startled when he suggested that this time I stay at the hotel with him. |
| 6312 |
It was ridiculous to be shy about things like that at my age. Ridiculous maybe, but I felt like a runaway teenager about to get caught by the cops when I watched him drive up the driveway. I was wearing pink jeans and a pink shirt, and a new pair of pink espadrilles. I had thrown out all my old ones. |
| 6313 |
We went for a walk on the beach after that, and then came home with his arm around me, and we fell asleep in each other's arms that night, with all the delicious newness and lack of expertise which comes from not knowing how someone sleeps, or what side they sleep on, if they like to cuddle or be left alone. |
| 6314 |
We swam, we talked, we ate, we went for long walks. We spent most of the weekend in bed, and by the end of the weekend, more than I wanted to, or would have dared admit to him, there was a part of me that belonged to him. I was falling in love with him. Correction. Past tense. I had fallen in love with him. |
| 6315 |
Peter called from the airport before he left, and he sounded in good spirits. He made a vague reference to the surprise again, and then he had to dash to get on the plane, before he missed it. It was an odd feeling after he left. I had gotten strangely used to him in the short time we'd been together. |
| 6316 |
He was aware of her hostility, but didn't seem bothered by it, which made him seem like even more of a hero to me. No matter how much abuse she heaped on him, subtly or otherwise, he was good natured about it. Nothing seemed to bother him. He was the consummate good sport, and really did seem to like my children. |
| 6317 |
He was wearing fluorescent green satin pants, skintight and startlingly revealing, with a see through black net shirt, with a little sparkle to it, and a pair of black satin cowboy boots I'd seen in a Versace ad, with rhinestone buckles. I remember distinctly wondering who on earth would wear them, when I saw it. |
| 6318 |
And suddenly everything about him felt familiar again, despite the aftershave that tickled my nose. I leaned my head against the ridiculous black shirt, and I could see his chest through it. He was wearing a large diamond peace sign on a diamond chain that I hadn't noticed until then. And he saw that I'd seen it. |
| 6319 |
I felt as though my life had been taken over by Martians. He added half a dozen spices to the soup I'd had on the stove, and put a frozen pizza in the oven, and without saying a word, made a salad and a loaf of garlic bread. And ten minutes later, he turned to me with a smile and announced that dinner was ready. |
| 6320 |
But even my sanity was no longer certain. They helped him rinse the plates and load the dishwasher, and then went back to their homework, after telling me they hoped I felt better. Neither of them seemed the least bit concerned that Peter appeared to have gone berserk. Worse yet, they seemed to like it. |
| 6321 |
Peter sounded like his old self as he went over algebra with Charlotte. And she was actually civil to him when she thanked him, and went back to her bedroom. By ten thirty, both children were in bed and sound asleep, and Peter was sitting in my bedroom, looking at me with a tender smile, as he took his shirt off. |
| 6322 |
It was the first time I'd ever had the feeling that Charlotte liked him. Maybe it was the outfit, or the dinner he cooked, or the way he was behaving, but he had won them over by wearing the worst clothes I'd ever seen, and behaving like a wild man. He was even moving into my guest room, and no one seemed to mind it. |
| 6323 |
In fact, they were pleased about it. He locked the door quietly, and as he slipped off the ghastly green pants, I almost felt as though I recognized him again, until I saw the gold lame jockeys he was wearing, if you could call them jockeys. It looked more like a Speedo, and the gold was more than a little amazing. |
| 6324 |
I wondered if it was the only way he could free himself of whatever inhibitions he had, and suspected that was it. But it really made me wonder what kind of neuroses he had to need to hide behind the pretense of being someone else. It was more than a little kinky, but at least I had worked it out in my head. |
| 6325 |
It almost made me wonder what else he was into, whips and chains, handcuffs, or even more unusual costumes than the one he'd worn the night before. And as though to counteract the erotic fantasies I was beginning to have about him, I put on an old tattered gray sweater and my favorite pair of jeans. |
| 6326 |
But as the G string disappeared like so much dental floss, along with my blue jeans and pink lace undies, my objections seemed to vanish into thin air. He was extraordinarily athletic, and even more sensual than he had been before. And then as I lay gasping in the throes of passion, he whispered in my ear. |
| 6327 |
If it was a recording of his voice, the timing was very good. He was playing the phone game with me, but this time I knew I would catch him at his own game. I had figured out that morning that the way he did it was by having such an ordinary conversation with me that my answers would be entirely predictable. |
| 6328 |
He's only used me in business till now, and on a few friends. Just like you, they thought it was all a big joke. They love me at his office, but he gets nervous when I go in. I made a couple of pretty sketchy deals for him last year. But this is the first time he's ever trusted me with anything as important as this. |
| 6329 |
He was such a sweet person, and it was obvious he loved the kids. He almost seemed like one of them, except thank God they didn't dress like him. I put on my blue jeans then, and a black sweater, and a new pair of black suede loafers. And ten minutes before the kids were due home from school, Paul came out of his room. |
| 6330 |
He had wires instead of a heart, man made mechanisms and computer chips where his brain would have been. As Peter had reminded me, he was entirely manufactured and man made. It was an extraordinary feat of engineering, as was the double flip, as he did it again and again and again, late into the night. |
| 6331 |
But that was a moment in time neither of us could bear to think of. We lived each day to the max, and tried to convince ourselves it would last forever. We never talked about Peter. Paul had lunch often at Peter's club, when we didn't spend the day in bed, and I had to do errands or keep appointments. |
| 6332 |
It was hard having an affair with him, and keeping the rest of my life in order. And out of a sense of sheer obligation, every few days, he went to Peter's office to make sure everything was all right there. He loved it. I didn't question why he went, although I suspected it made him feel important. |
| 6333 |
I hadn't noticed when he left me that he wasn't wearing the now familiar G string, but had opted to make the brief walk back to the guest room naked. Had I seen that, I would have strenuously objected, in case he ran into Charlotte. But at that hour, he had been fairly sure that they were both sleeping. |
| 6334 |
I felt certain that nothing untoward would happen, and went back to bed to catch up on the little sleep still left to me before I had to make Paul's favorite waffles for breakfast. And in the morning I inquired innocently about the salami rinds in the sink and the open jar of peanut butter on the counter. |
| 6335 |
He took them out on the weekend, and played with them tirelessly, took them to the movies, and went bowling with Sam. He even went shopping with Charlotte, which was pretty scary and resulted in the purchase of a patent leather miniskirt I vowed to burn when he left us. They were absolutely crazy about him. |
| 6336 |
He swore to me that Peter would be much happier when he saw it. And he had the wheels painted red, which was sweet of him. It was an interlude in my life filled with ecstasy and thrills I'd never before dreamed of, and on our last night, at the thought of leaving me, he was too depressed to even try the double flip. |
| 6337 |
I put on a new black suit from Dior, and a hat, and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked so dull, almost as dreary as I had in the old, flannel nightgowns in days gone by. But to cheer myself up, I put on the new diamond bracelet and the ruby pin Paul had bought me just before he left, with matching earrings. |
| 6338 |
He was slim and tall, with a new haircut and a serious air, and that incredibly powerful way of walking. He was wearing a double breasted blazer and gray slacks, a blue shirt of course, and a Hermes tie with a navy background and tiny yellow dots. And just watching him move toward me took my breath away. |
| 6339 |
The only thing he wanted to know was why I had come to the airport in a limousine, instead of his Jaguar. And I had to explain that Paul had had a little mishap with it. I assured him that they had put out the fire in the engine immediately, and other than the totaled front end, there had been very little other damage. |
| 6340 |
The trunk still opened easily, all the tires were being replaced, and he was going to love it canary yellow with red wheels. I saw a muscle tighten in his jaw, but to his credit, he said nothing about it. He was a gentleman, and a good sport, as he always had been. He seemed happier to see me when we got home. |
| 6341 |
Terribly. Just seeing him standing there again, I was reminded of all that we had together. And then he reached for me ever so gently, and pulled me closer to him, and as he did, all else was forgotten, as though Paul faded from my memory the moment Peter touched me and erased a whole block of information and feelings. |
| 6342 |
Peter was everything I had always known him to be, tender, loving, artful, considerate, sensual, an extraordinary lover in every way. There were no acrobatic twists and turns, no double flip, no triple, or quadruple. There were only the two of us, transported to a place I had nearly forgotten in the past two weeks. |
| 6343 |
I fell in love with him more each day, in spite of his occasional cool spells, and his occasional doubts about being involved with me, which I think came from years of independence and being on his own. According to him, I was the first serious relationship he'd had in many years. His freedom was important to him. |
| 6344 |
It was a more meaningful relationship than I'd ever had with anyone, including, and perhaps even especially, Roger. This was real, as real as it could be, with ups and downs, and laughter, and occasionally tears, and the shared confidences that we trusted each other with, and there were many of them. |
| 6345 |
I scolded her if she was rude to him, but he then chided me in turn for my lack of compassion, and was always quick to explain to me why this wasn't easy for her, and I had to back off, and give her a chance to get to know him in her own time. But it was with Sam that he particularly touched me in late October. |
| 6346 |
He had gone fishing with them, and camping, and skiing once. And for the father son camping trip, his best friend's father had taken both of them. It hadn't been the same for Peter either, but to this day, he had told Sam, as my son relayed to me later on, he and his best friend's father were still friends. |
| 6347 |
Whatever reservations Peter may have had about making a commitment to me, Sam had made serious inroads into his heart that night. It was a look that, however developed the technology, could never have been cloned. And when I went to kiss Sam in bed that night, he lay smiling up at me from his pillow. |
| 6348 |
He didn't volunteer anything, and I didn't dare ask. I took him to the airport in the Jaguar, which had been repainted, again, by then. He had had it restored to silver. Its brief moment of canary yellow never saw the light of day. He never let it leave the shop that way, which somehow seemed a pity to me. |
| 6349 |
It was Paul, and he was beaming at me. He had clearly conned the doorman into letting him come up unannounced. He always tipped them well. He was wearing chartreuse satin disco pants, and a mink jacket, and peeking through it I could see no shirt at all, only his bare chest, and his diamond peace sign shimmering at me. |
| 6350 |
He claimed he was staying with us because he had lent his apartment to friends from London. Paul was very considerate about explaining things to the kids, so they wouldn't know the truth about him, or that Peter was gone. But once the kids were in bed, I was honest with him, and told him what I was thinking. |
| 6351 |
It was impossible to sort out who was who and what was what, and whom I was doing what with, and why. And by the time it was all over, I was as crazy as they were, and I no longer cared which of them was in bed with me. I was happy and peaceful, and even the double flip seemed funny to me when we finally did it. |
| 6352 |
I was lucky, he had just had a cancellation, and told me he could see me in half an hour, if I could be there promptly, which I promised I would. His office hadn't changed much in two years, the couch I sat on, facing him, seemed a little more worn, and the pictures on the wall seemed a little more depressing. |
| 6353 |
He was so dismayed by what I had told him. I just wish he could have seen Paul in silver or gold lame, puce, or chartreuse, or hot pink or bright purple. The leopard jumpsuit would have done it too, or the orange velour lounging suit he had worn the night before at dinner. Dr. Steinfeld would have loved him. |
| 6354 |
There was no point, but the children still reported every time they saw them that she never even talked to them, and she could hardly wait for them to leave on Sunday afternoon. I knew Roger had to know it too, and I wondered how he felt about it, and how much worse it would get after their own baby was born. |
| 6355 |
And that night, it was surprisingly soothing to let Paul massage me, and eventually to let myself be transported by his gentle passion, and a very modest double flip. I felt closer to Paul after that, he had gotten me through a tough moment, seeing Roger with Helena, and had restored a little of my self esteem. |
| 6356 |
He said it had been rough on the upholstery and the rugs were soaked when they finally pulled it out. He was afraid it might need a new engine, and hoped that Peter wouldn't mind too much. I called Peter and told him, and he just groaned, and then whimpered pitifully when I told him what it would cost him to repair it. |
| 6357 |
The children no longer even looked surprised to see him in gray flannel instead of chartreuse. They had seen him make that switch before, and still blamed it on stress and mood swings, or trouble at the office. And after they went to bed, we wound up in my bedroom, predictably, and he looked at me with longing. |
| 6358 |
But by dinnertime, he hadn't called. The kids were with Roger for the rest of the weekend, and I called Peter several times that evening, but he never answered. I left him several messages, and then sat in the dark, in my bedroom, watching the snow, wondering where he was, and what had happened between us. |
| 6359 |
I sat alone, in the apartment that afternoon, turning it all over in my mind, wondering what had gone wrong, what I had done, why he seemed so cold and angry. We had been together for exactly five months by then, which seemed like a healthy chunk of time to me, but in the perspective of a lifetime was but a moment. |
| 6360 |
It was after ten when I finished cleaning up the kitchen. Sam was asleep in his room by then, and he still had the iguana with him. When I went to kiss him good night, I saw it lying next to him, on the pillow, and closed the door gently so it couldn't escape. Paul was going to have to take it with him. |
| 6361 |
I remembered how quiet he had been when we walked in the park in the snow, and the way he had looked at me after he saw the ruby ring Paul gave me. I poured myself a small glass of the gin, poured some tonic in it, and threw in a couple of ice cubes. "I thought you didn't drink." He looked shocked when he saw it. |
| 6362 |
And as soon as I closed the door, he stripped off the red spandex leggings. I tried not to see how great his legs were. Having been made with great precision and great care, his legs were every bit as splendid as Peter's. I disappeared into the bathroom and put on a nightgown and a robe, and tied it. |
| 6363 |
He had no idea what it was to get a filling. Lucky devil. And when he returned from the bathroom, the lights were off and I pretended to be sleeping. I was lying on my side at the edge of the bed, and I fully expected him to sleep on the floor, which was another sign of insanity on my part. He had no intention of it. |
| 6364 |
And then I heard him strike a match, and knew what he was doing. He was lighting the candle, but I didn't dare say anything for fear he would know I wasn't sleeping, and then a moment later, I felt him gently touch my shoulders and start to massage them. I lay there, tense, hating him for being so nice to me. |
| 6365 |
At forty six, Charles Harrington knew that he was a lucky man. In many ways, seemingly, life had been easy for him. At twenty one, he had inherited an enormous fortune and had handled it responsibly in the twenty five years since. He had made a career of managing his own investments and running his family's foundation. |
| 6366 |
They were a fearsome trio, but their fun was harmless. They answered to no one, none of the three men were married, and at the moment none had girlfriends. They had long since agreed that, whatever their situations, they would come aboard alone, and spend the month as bachelors, living among men, indulging themselves. |
| 6367 |
They owed no one apologies or explanations, and each of them worked hard in his own way during the rest of the year, Charlie as a philanthropist, Adam as an attorney, and Gray as an artist. Charlie liked to say that they earned their month off, and deserved their annual trip. Two of the three were bachelors by choice. |
| 6368 |
Charlie had managed to stay friends with every woman he had ever gone out with. At Christmastime, he was deluged with cards from women he had once cared about, decided not to marry, and who had since married other men. At a glance, if one looked at the photographs of them and their families, they all looked the same. |
| 6369 |
His own family could be traced back to the fifteenth century, in England, his fortune was many generations old, and like his father and grandfather, he had gone to Princeton. His mother had gone to Miss Porter's, and finishing school in Europe, as had his sister, and he wanted to marry a woman just like them. |
| 6370 |
He himself was old fashioned in some ways, and had traditional values. He was politically conservative, eminently respectable, and if he had a fling here and there, it was always done politely, with the utmost discretion. Charlie was a gentleman and a man of elegance and distinction to his very soul. |
| 6371 |
But like the handsome prince in the fairy tale, he had searched the world, looking for the right woman, the perfect one for him. And instead he met lovely women everywhere, who seemed delightful and appealing at first, and always had a fatal flaw that stopped him in his tracks just before he got to the altar. |
| 6372 |
He just didn't know when. And for all the impostors masquerading as the right women, he was able to detect their fatal flaws every time. The one thing he consoled himself with was that he hadn't married the wrong one. He was determined not to let that happen. And he was grateful that so far he hadn't. |
| 6373 |
He was ever vigilant and relentless about those fatal flaws. He knew the right woman was out there somewhere, he just hadn't found her yet. But one day he knew he would. Charlie sat with his eyes closed and his face to the sun, as two stewardesses served him breakfast, and poured him a second cup of coffee. |
| 6374 |
It was a sacrifice she was more than willing to make for him. She had been an extraordinary woman, and Charlie adored her. But by the time he left for college, although he didn't know it, and she said nothing to him, Ellen was ill. She had managed to keep the seriousness of her illness from him for nearly three years. |
| 6375 |
He had remarkable material benefits, and a few well chosen friends. But he knew that until he found the right woman, he would be alone in important ways. He wasn't going to settle for anything less than what he felt he deserved, a woman like his mother and Ellen, a woman who would stand by him till the end. |
| 6376 |
It hadn't been their fault. It was simply a rotten turn of fate. Which made it all the more important for him to find the right woman, one he knew he could count on, who would be a good mother to his children, a woman who was nearly perfect in every way. That was vital to him. To Charlie, that woman was worth the wait. |
| 6377 |
He was of medium build with powerful shoulders and rugged looks. He wasn't a handsome man in the way Charlie was, but he was intelligent, funny, attractive, had charm, and women loved him. What he lacked in movie star looks, he made up for with brains, power, and money. He had made a lot of it in recent years. |
| 6378 |
He made no judgments on his friends. He just wanted them to have fun, and they always did, all three of them. Adam and Gray were the best friends he'd ever had, and they shared a bond that exceeded mere friendship. The three men felt like brothers, they'd seen each other through a lot in the last ten years. |
| 6379 |
She had seemed like the perfect girl for him. When they married, they had everything in common, and a lifetime of happiness ahead of them. Rachel got pregnant on their honeymoon, and had two babies in two years, Amanda and Jacob, who were now fourteen and thirteen. The marriage had lasted five years. |
| 6380 |
Rachel, however, got tired of being alone at night and fell in love with their pediatrician, whom she had known since high school, and had an affair with him while Adam was making money hand over fist for them. He became a partner in the firm three months before she left him, and she told him he'd be fine without her. |
| 6381 |
And in the milieu where he worked, they were easy to find. At forty one, he dated women between twenty one and twenty five, models, starlets, groupies, the kind of women who hung around athletes and rock stars. Half the time he could barely remember their names. He was up front with all of them, and generous with them. |
| 6382 |
Rachel had taken his heart with her, and tossed it in a dumpster somewhere. He talked to her now only when he had to, which was less and less often as the kids grew older. Most of the time, he sent her terse e mails about their arrangements, or had his secretary call her. He wanted nothing to do with her. |
| 6383 |
Unlike Charlie, he wasn't looking for the perfect woman. All he wanted was the perfect bedmate for as long as it lasted, hopefully no longer than two weeks, and he kept it that way. Adam wanted no serious involvements. The only things he was serious about were his children, his work, and his friends. |
| 6384 |
And as far as he was concerned, the women in his life were not his friends. Rachel was his sworn enemy, his mother was his cross to bear, his sister was a nuisance, and the women he went out with were barely more than strangers. Most of the time he was a lot happier, felt safer, and was more comfortable with men. |
| 6385 |
He represented a roster of major celebrities, all of whom seemed to get themselves into trouble with alarming regularity, but Adam loved what he did, and had more patience with his clients than he did with anyone else, except his kids, who meant everything to him. Amanda and Jacob were the sweet spot in his life. |
| 6386 |
The bitter taste settled his stomach after the excesses of the night before. Unlike Adam and Charlie, he was not in fabulously athletic shape. He was long and lean and looked somewhat undernourished. As a boy, he had looked like a poster child for starving children somewhere. Now he just looked very thin. |
| 6387 |
He was an artist and lived in the West Village, where he worked for months on intricate, beautifully done paintings. He managed to survive, though barely, if he sold two a year. And like Charlie, he had never married, nor had kids. He was respected in the art world, but had never been a commercial success. |
| 6388 |
Despite their initial indulgences, they usually settled down to a dull roar after the first few days. It wasn't as bad as they both made it sound, although they had all drunk a lot the night before, and had a lot of fun, dancing with strangers, watching people, and generally enjoying each other's company. |
| 6389 |
They had a decade of memories of trips like this, and laughed at the tales of their antics whenever they met. "I think we're early this year with a night like last night. My liver's already shot. I can feel it," Gray commented, looking worried, as he finished the eggs, and ate a piece of toast to settle his stomach. |
| 6390 |
Charlie had a youthful boyish look, even in his mid forties, that knocked five or ten years off his appearance, and Adam was only forty one, and was in amazing shape. Wherever he was in the world, and no matter how busy, he went to the gym every day. He said it was the only way he could cope with the stress. |
| 6391 |
Gray had never taken care of himself, slept little, ate less, and lived for his work, as Adam did. He spent long hours standing in front of his easel, and did nothing but think, dream, and breathe art. He wasn't much older than the other two, but he looked his age, mainly because of his shock of unruly white hair. |
| 6392 |
Kids were the one thing that Gray couldn't deal with. They terrified him, and always had. They reminded him of his own peculiar childhood, which had never been a pleasant memory for him. Being around children and families always reinforced the painful realization of how dysfunctional his own family had been. |
| 6393 |
They rarely left Gray's life with grace. They stole things from him, got into screaming fights that caused the neighbors to call the police, would have slashed his tires if he'd had a car, tossed his belongings out the window, or caused some kind of ruckus that turned out to be embarrassing or painful to him. |
| 6394 |
Eventually those needs always included someone other than Gray. Almost every one of the women he had dated had left him for another man. And after they left, another woman in a state of total disaster would turn up, and turn his life upside down again. It was a roller coaster ride he had gotten used to over the years. |
| 6395 |
It had happened seven years earlier, and although Gray knew where he was, they had never contacted each other. He had a letter from Sparrow from India once every few years. They had never liked each other much, their early life had been spent surviving the vagaries and eccentricities of their adoptive parents. |
| 6396 |
Gray had never had any desire to find his, some curiosity perhaps, but he had enough on his plate with the parents he'd had, he felt no need to add more dysfunctional people to the mix. The lunatics he was already related to were more than enough for him. The women he went out with were just more of the same. |
| 6397 |
All he wanted to do was paint, and he did it well. Whatever genetic mix he had come from originally, whoever his birth parents were, Gray had an enormous talent, and although never financially viable, his career as a painter had always been a respected one. Even the critics conceded that he was very, very good. |
| 6398 |
He just couldn't keep his life together long enough to make money at what he did. What his parents had made in their early years, they had spent on drugs and traveling around the world. Gray was used to being penniless and didn't mind it. What he had, he gave to others whom he considered more in need. |
| 6399 |
He had concluded years before that, given the opportunity, all women were bitches. His mother had nagged his father constantly, and was disrespectful to him. His father had dealt with the constant barrage of verbal abuse with silence. His sister was subtler than their mother, and got everything she wanted by whining. |
| 6400 |
The only way to handle a woman, as far as Adam was concerned, was to find a dumb one, keep her at arm's length, and move on quickly. Everything was fine, as long as he kept moving. The only time he stopped to smell the roses, or let his guard down, was on the boat with Charlie and Gray, or with his children. |
| 6401 |
And it was too early to have lunch. They had just had breakfast, even though all Adam had had, after the excesses of the night before, was a roll and coffee. He had a nervous stomach, had had an ulcer years before, and rarely ate much. It was the price he paid willingly for being in a stressful business. |
| 6402 |
He bailed them out of jail, got them on the teams they wanted, signed them on for concert tours, negotiated their divorces, paid palimony to their mistresses, and drew up support agreements for their children born out of wedlock. They kept him busy, stressed, and happy. And now he was finally on vacation. |
| 6403 |
Gray never joined them then, he had bad memories of the Caribbean from when he had lived there with his parents, and said nothing could induce him to go back there. And at the end of August each year, Adam spent a week traveling in Europe with his children. As always, he was meeting them at the end of this trip. |
| 6404 |
But most of the time, the three men enjoyed being lazy. The time they shared was mostly spent on lunches, dinner, women, drinking, and a little swimming. And a lot of sleeping. Especially Adam, who always arrived exhausted, and said the only place he ever slept decently was on Charlie's boat in August. |
| 6405 |
Anyone who knew him well, and how hard he worked, was well aware that he needed the breather. It made him a lot nicer to deal with in September. He coasted for weeks, and even months sometimes, on the good times he had with Gray and Charlie. The three men had met originally as a result of their philanthropic bent. |
| 6406 |
Gray had been even more broke than usual at the time. And Adam had had a tough spring, with two major athletes sustaining injuries, and a world class band canceling a concert tour, which had spawned a dozen lawsuits. The trip to Europe on Charlie's yacht had been perfect. And it had been their annual junket since then. |
| 6407 |
Charlie had a fondness for Cuban cigars and good champagne. They had a lot of both on board. All three men sat drinking and relaxing on deck as they motored carefully away from the port, avoiding the many smaller boats and the daily tour boats filled with gawkers who snapped their picture as they drove by. |
| 6408 |
Aside from the immense opulence and size of his yacht, Charlie led a relatively quiet life, and avoided scandal at all costs. He was just a very rich man, traveling with two friends, whom no one reading the tabloids had ever heard about. Even with the stars Adam knew and represented, he always stayed in the background. |
| 6409 |
The press constantly created problems in his clients' lives. He had gotten a call from his office just that afternoon. One of his clients had been caught coming out of a hotel with a woman other than his wife, and the shit had hit the fan. The irate wife had called the office ten times and was threatening divorce. |
| 6410 |
And Gray's women needed lobotomies, or heavy sedation, more than anything else. He had paid for a number of therapists, rehab programs, shrinks, and attorneys' fees for court orders to restrain the previous men in their lives who were either stalking them or threatening to kill them, or him. Whatever worked. |
| 6411 |
But he hated what he had given her in the settlement. She had really put it to him ten years before when they divorced, and he had already been a partner in his firm. She got a lot more than he felt she deserved. Her parents had hired her a terrific lawyer. And he still resented it bitterly ten years later. |
| 6412 |
Although Gray said he was romantic too. It was just the women he got involved with who weren't, they were too desperate and needy to pay much attention to romance. But he would have liked to have some in his life, if he ever managed to get mixed up with someone sane, which seemed ever more unlikely. |
| 6413 |
The younger ones wanted to go to clubs and bars, buy a few dresses and charge them to him, and go to concerts and expensive restaurants. If he took them to Las Vegas for a weekend, when he had to see one of his clients, they thought they'd died and gone to Heaven. His family, however, had a different attitude. |
| 6414 |
And he assured himself regularly that they were just jealous, because he was having fun and they weren't. His parents weren't jealous, they just disapproved of him on principle. And predictably, given her disapproval of Adam, or maybe just to annoy him, he thought sometimes, his mother had stayed close to Rachel. |
| 6415 |
Whatever the issue or argument, Adam's mother always chose to be on the opposite side from him. She couldn't help herself. She had a contrary nature and a need for conflict. He suspected that beneath it all, his mother loved him. But she seemed to feel compelled to criticize him and make his life difficult. |
| 6416 |
She appeared to disapprove of everything he did. His mother still blamed him for the divorce, and said he must have done something terrible to her, to make her leave with someone else. She never sympathized with Adam for a moment that his wife had cheated on him, and left him. It had to be his fault. |
| 6417 |
He and Gray went back to the boat a few minutes later. Adam said he'd find his way back on his own, since they were docked at the quay that night, and Charlie had given him a radio in case he needed to call them. Adam nodded and continued dancing with the German girl, who had bright red hair and said her name was Ushi. |
| 6418 |
It was fun to eat in the restaurants and go to the nightclubs, but there were a number of other places they wanted to visit in the next month, some of them as festive as St. Tropez, and others a little quieter. Monte Carlo was more elegant and sedate, and all three of them enjoyed going to the casino. |
| 6419 |
And so had Adam. He had enjoyed the night he had spent with her, but in the light of day, there was no hiding from the fact that they were strangers, and unlikely to ever meet again. The rules of the road were clear to both of them. Adam kissed her as he put her in the cab, and she clung to him for a moment. |
| 6420 |
They could eat at any hour, dress however they chose, drink as much as they liked, even if they got drunk, and spend time with whoever they wanted. There was no one to nag, bitch, complain, compromise with, apologize to, or accommodate. All they had was each other, and for the moment it was all they wanted. |
| 6421 |
Charlie woke up at six o'clock, saw where they were, and that his two friends were still sleeping. He went to his cabin to shower and change, and Gray and Adam woke up at seven. Adam was understandably exhausted after his revels of the previous night, and Gray wasn't used to the late hours they were keeping. |
| 6422 |
He knew that funny things must have happened before tragedy struck, but he could no longer remember them, only the sad parts. It was easier to keep his mind on the present, except when his therapist insisted that he remember. And even then it was a struggle to conjure up the memories and not feel devastated by them. |
| 6423 |
All the worldly possessions and comforts he had did not make up for the people he had lost, or the family life that had vanished with them. And try as he might, he could not seem to recreate it. The stability and security of family, and someone to form that bond with him, always seemed to elude him. |
| 6424 |
The two men he was traveling with were the closest thing he had to family in his life now, or had had in the past twenty five years since his sister died. There had never been a lonelier time in his life than that, with the agony of knowing that he was alone in the world, with no one to care about him or love him. |
| 6425 |
He felt guilty about it sometimes, but didn't allow himself to dwell on it. He had finally shed the last vestiges of a family that had been nothing but painful for him. To him, the word "family" evoked nothing more than pain. He wondered now and then what had become of Boy since their parents' death. |
| 6426 |
Whatever had happened to him, it could only be better than the life he shared with their irresponsible adoptive parents. Gray had thus far resisted any urge to feel responsible or attached to him. He thought he might try to contact him one day, but that time had not yet come. He doubted it ever would. |
| 6427 |
I think my sister is boring and pathetic, my brother is a pompous asshole with a wife just like my mother, and they think I run around with a bunch of sleazebags and whores. They have no respect for what I do, and don't even want to know what it is. All they focus on are the women I go out with, and not who I am. |
| 6428 |
It's just that sometimes we have to admit to ourselves that our parents aren't capable, that the love we wanted so desperately when we were kids just wasn't there. They didn't have it to give. Mine didn't, they were too busy doing drugs when they were young, and looking for the holy grail after that. |
| 6429 |
Sixteen happy years, and then my sister and I were alone in a big house, with a lot of money, and servants to take care of us, and a foundation for her to learn how to run. She dropped out of Vassar to take care of me, which she did beautifully for two years, until I went to college. She had no other life, just me. |
| 6430 |
The three best people on earth, gone. Listening to you two makes me realize how lucky I was, not because of the money, but because of the kind of people they were. They were wonderful parents, and Ellen was great. But people die, people leave. Things happen, and suddenly a whole world is gone and your life is changed. |
| 6431 |
What if you loved someone and that person died or abandoned you? It was easier to find their fatal flaws and abandon them, before they could do it to you. Even with a perfect family as a child, by dying when he was so young, his parents and sister had condemned him to a life of terror forever after. |
| 6432 |
A risk he still found terrifying, and he was not willing to put his heart on the line again, until he knew he was a thousand percent safe. He wanted every guarantee he could get. And so far, no woman had come with a guarantee, just red flags, which scared the hell out of him. So, however politely, he abandoned them. |
| 6433 |
He hadn't found one yet worth risking his all for, but he felt certain that one day he would. Adam and Gray were no longer so sure. It looked to both of them as though Charlie was on his own for good. The three of them were a perfect fit, because all of them were equally sure of the same thing for themselves. |
| 6434 |
Charlie put up some money for Gray, and he made three hundred dollars with a bet on the black. He gave the original hundred back to Charlie, who insisted he keep it all. It was two in the morning when they went back to the boat, an early night for them. They went to their cabins as soon as they got home. |
| 6435 |
Gray loved the art and architecture, and was particularly fond of the church up on the hill. Charlie loved the easy Italian atmosphere, the restaurants, and the people. It was an exceptionally pretty place. Adam loved the shops, and the Splendido Hotel high up on the hill, looking down on the harbor. |
| 6436 |
Gray had already taken out a sketch pad and was drawing, and Charlie was sitting on deck, looking blissful and smoking a cigar. It was his favorite port in Italy, and he was happy to stay there as long as they wanted. He was in no hurry to move on. He actually preferred it to all of the ports in France. |
| 6437 |
A tall, exotic looking woman was sitting at a table next to them. She was wearing a red T shirt, sandals, and a full white cotton skirt. Her hair was dark, and she wore it in a long braid down her back. Her eyes were green, and she had creamy skin. And when he turned to look at her, she was laughing. |
| 6438 |
Adam had noticed her when they sat down, and couldn't decide if the man next to her was her husband or her father. She seemed to be on very close terms with him, and that sector of the group was obviously French. Sylvia appeared to be the only American in the group, which didn't seem to bother her at all. |
| 6439 |
They didn't look like three playboys to her. They had an aura about them that suggested they were men of substance. She found Gray easiest to talk to, because he had opened the conversation first. She had been listening to their conversation, and liked what he said about the local architecture and art. |
| 6440 |
They were laughing and talking and smoking, and when she saw the three men walk in, she waved with a broad smile. She introduced them to her friends again, and conveniently, the chair next to the young woman Adam had found pretty was vacant, and he asked her if he could sit down. She smiled and pointed to the seat. |
| 6441 |
He said his style had changed considerably in the meantime, but she had been impressed by his earlier work. They discovered that they had lived within blocks of each other in Paris at roughly the same time. And she said without embarrassment that she was forty nine years old, although she looked about forty two. |
| 6442 |
None of them had a drinking problem, but they readily agreed, they drank far too much on the boat, like bad teenagers who had run away from their parents. Around Sylvia, it was more of a challenge to be an adult. She was so bright, and so on top of things, he didn't want his senses dulled when he talked to her. |
| 6443 |
Both of her brothers were doctors, she spoke five languages, and she was thinking of getting a law degree after her doctoral degree in political science. She was considering a career in politics. This was not a girl who wanted implants from him. She expected intelligent conversation, which came as a shock to Adam. |
| 6444 |
The day was so beautiful that they decided to stay and have dinner on the boat, at Charlie's invitation. It was nearly midnight before they motored slowly closer to the port, after stopping for a moonlight swim on the way back. For once, Gray and Sylvia stopped talking about art, and just enjoyed the water. |
| 6445 |
It wasn't something he thought about often. But she was extremely fit, and scarcely out of breath as they got back on board. For a woman her age, or even a younger one, she looked great in a bikini, but she seemed unaware of herself around him, unlike her niece, who had been flirting relentlessly with Adam. |
| 6446 |
She said she saw something new each time she went there. He accepted readily, and agreed to meet her in the port at ten. There was nothing coy about her invitation to him, it was simply a bond between two art lovers. She said they were leaving the day after, and Gray was happy for a chance to see her again. |
| 6447 |
He had decided not to pursue her, it was too much work, and he had long since forgotten half the things she asked him. She had fenced with him intellectually all day and night, and he liked it and found it challenging, but in the end, it made him feel tired and old. His mind just didn't work that way anymore. |
| 6448 |
The three men shared a last glass of wine on the deck before they smoked cigars and went to their cabins, happy and relaxed after a fun day on the boat. They had no plans for the next day, and Adam and Charlie said they were going to sleep late. Gray was already excited about meeting Sylvia to visit the church. |
| 6449 |
He knew Gray led a lonely life, and thought she'd be a good friend for him, and a useful person for him to know. He had struggled for so long with his art, and was so talented, Charlie hoped he'd get a break one of these days, and was hopeful Sylvia could introduce him to the right people in the art scene in New York. |
| 6450 |
A woman Sylvia's age was a specialty, and would only appeal to a rare few, and only then to a man who was not threatened by how smart and capable she was. The kind of girls Adam went out with were generally considered a lot more desirable, in most cases, than a woman of substance and intellect like Sylvia. |
| 6451 |
Although for all he knew there was a man waiting for her in New York or Paris or somewhere else. But he doubted it. She put out a vibe that suggested she was independent and unattached, and liked it that way. It didn't seem to bother her at all, and she was obviously not on the make, for them, or anyone. |
| 6452 |
And he died last year. It leaves a lot of things unresolved for my kids, about what they meant to him, if anything. And it was sad for me. I loved him, but with narcissists, that's just the way it is. In the end, the only ones they love are themselves. They just don't have it in them to love anyone else. |
| 6453 |
She was remarkably honest and open about herself, and he admired that. One had the feeling there were no dark secrets, no hidden agendas, no confusion in her head about what she felt or wanted or believed. Although inevitably, there were probably scars. Everyone had them at their age, no one was exempt. |
| 6454 |
Probably not. I don't think I'd have the guts to do it again. I lived with a man for six years, after my divorce. He was an extraordinary person, and an amazing artist, a sculptor. He suffered from severe depression and refused to take medication. He was basically an alcoholic, and his life was a mess. |
| 6455 |
And he didn't want to intrude on her grief. He had no right to do that. "I'm sorry," he said softly, with all the emotion he felt. With all the insane women he'd been involved with who turned every moment into a drama, here was a sane one who had lived through real tragedy and had refused to let it destroy her. |
| 6456 |
They sat quietly for a long time, and then walked around the church, inside and out. It was a beautiful structure from the twelfth century, and she pointed things out to him that he had never seen before, although he'd been there many times. It was another two hours before they walked slowly down to the port. |
| 6457 |
It was interesting to think of her as a mother, she seemed so independent and so whole. He suspected she was a good mother, although he didn't like thinking of her that way. He preferred to think of her as he knew her, just as his friend. "Interesting. Smart," she said honestly, and sounded proud, which made him smile. |
| 6458 |
She has her own life to lead. But genetics are an amazing thing. I see both of us in them, mixed in with who they are themselves. But the history and the ancestry are always there, even in the flavors of ice cream they like, or the colors they prefer. I have a great respect for genetics, after bringing up two kids. |
| 6459 |
It was obvious that she had given the subject considerable thought. "I've been beginning to get that myself," he said ruefully. It was embarrassing to admit how dysfunctional the women in his life had been, and that after all he'd done for them, almost without exception they had left him for other people. |
| 6460 |
She was at a crossroads in her life, neither young nor old, too old to settle for the wrong man, or one who was too difficult, and too young to accept being alone for the rest of her life, but she realized now that that could happen. It frightened her somewhat, but so did another tragedy or disaster. |
| 6461 |
She said it all as simply as possible to Gray, and managed not to sound pathetic, desperate, needy, or confused. She was just a woman trying to figure out her life, and perfectly capable of taking care of herself while she did. He sat staring at her for a long time as he listened, and shook his head. |
| 6462 |
He had never met a woman like her, not one he had been willing to talk to. He'd been too busy rescuing women to ever bother looking for one who could be his friend. And Sylvia Reynolds was that person. At fifty, in Portofino, it seemed crazy even to him, but he felt as though he had found the woman of his dreams. |
| 6463 |
He wondered if he had caught a good case of insanity from the women he'd gone out with, or had always been as crazy as they. Sylvia wasn't crazy. She was beautiful and smart, vulnerable, honest, and real. "We are leaving tomorrow," she said quietly, sad to leave him too, which made her somewhat nervous. |
| 6464 |
He smiled all the way back to the boat, and was still smiling when Charlie saw him as he came on board. It was one o'clock by then, and they were waiting for lunch with him. "That was a long time to spend in church with a woman you barely know," Charlie commented mischievously, as he looked at his old friend. |
| 6465 |
And in case he changed his mind, it gave Adam another shot at Sylvia's niece. But even without that, they enjoyed all the others in the group. It was a great mix. Charlie told the captain their plan, and he agreed to organize the crew. Night crossings were easier for the passengers, but harder on the crew. |
| 6466 |
And they'd be in Sardinia well in time for dinner the next day. Gray told Sylvia at dinner that night, and she smiled at him, wondering what he'd said to the others, and faintly embarrassed by her attraction to him. She hadn't felt anything like it in years, and wasn't ready to share that information with Gray either. |
| 6467 |
Gray turned to look at her one last time as they walked away, but she never turned to look at him. She was talking to her niece intently, as they stopped to buy a gelato in the piazza, and Gray noticed again that Sylvia had a lovely figure. And a remarkable brain. He wasn't sure which he liked best. |
| 6468 |
As they sat on the aft deck in the moonlight, the crew weighed anchor and they took off. Gray sat watching the moonlight dance on the water, thought of her in her hotel room, and wished that he could be there. He couldn't imagine being lucky enough to have something like that happen to him. But maybe one day. |
| 6469 |
Charlie wasn't as convinced, but kept his impressions to himself. He knew if Gray wanted to say something to him, he would. Charlie talked to her quite a bit himself. They talked about his foundation, and the work they did, her gallery, and the artists she represented. It was obvious that she loved her work. |
| 6470 |
They chatted quietly with each other on several occasions, they swam together, danced in the nightclubs, and laughed a great deal. By the end of the weekend, all of them felt as though they had become great friends. And when Sylvia and her group left, Charlie and the others went to Corsica for two days. |
| 6471 |
They came up the west coast of Italy after that, came back to the French Riviera for the last week, and anchored in Antibes. As always, when they were together, it was incredible. They went to nightclubs, restaurants, walked, swam, shopped, met people, danced with women, and turned strangers into friends. |
| 6472 |
But at least it was cheap. He was looking forward to calling Sylvia as soon as he got home. He had thought of calling her from the boat, but didn't want to make expensive calls on Charlie's bill, which seemed rude to him. He knew she'd gotten back the previous week, after her trip to Sicily with her kids. |
| 6473 |
But it was always lonely for him when the other two were gone. He hated to see them go. The morning they left, Gray and Adam drove to the airport together in a limo the purser had rented for them. Charlie stood on the aft deck and waved, and was sad when they were gone. They were his closest friends, and both good men. |
| 6474 |
Life could be worse. He spent his last two weeks on the boat doing business by computer, setting up meetings for his return, and making a list of things he wanted the captain to attend to to maintain the boat. In November, they'd be making the crossing to the Caribbean, and Charlie would have loved to be on it. |
| 6475 |
The foundation had given nearly a million dollars to a new children's shelter, and he wanted to be around to see how it was being spent. When he finally left the boat in the third week of September, he was ready. He wanted to see friends, and get to his office. He had been gone for nearly three months. |
| 6476 |
To him, it meant an empty apartment, an office where he upheld his family's traditions, sitting on the boards and committees he served on, and spending time with friends, going to dinner parties or cultural events. It never meant a person he could come home to, someone waiting for him, or to share his life with. |
| 6477 |
He'd had an e mail from Adam himself too, asking Charlie if he wanted to go to a concert with him the following week. It was one of those megaevents that Charlie loved and Gray said he hated, and it sounded like fun to him, so he had e mailed back that he would join him. Adam wrote back that he was pleased. |
| 6478 |
Charlie assumed he was working, and was lost in his own world at the studio, after not painting for a month while he was on the trip. Sometimes Gray disappeared for weeks, and emerged victorious when a particularly tough spell with a painting had been beaten into submission. Charlie suspected he was in one of those. |
| 6479 |
When he got to his apartment, things were even worse. His cleaning staff had aired out the apartment, but it still smelled musty and looked sad. There were no flowers, no sign of life anywhere. Three months was a long time. All his mail was waiting for him at the office, whatever hadn't been sent to him in France. |
| 6480 |
There was food in the refrigerator, but no one to prepare it, and he wasn't hungry. There were no messages on the machine. No one knew he was coming back, and worse yet, no one cared. For the first time, it made Charlie stand there in his empty apartment and wonder what was wrong with him and his friends. |
| 6481 |
What the hell were they thinking? The question was hard to answer. He had never felt as lonely in his life as he did that night. For the last twenty five years, he had been sifting through women like so much flour, looking for some microscopic point of imperfection, like a mother monkey searching her baby for fleas. |
| 6482 |
And all these years later, he was still standing guard over his empty life, watching with ever greater vigilance for barbarians at the gate. He was beginning to wonder, in spite of himself, if it was time to let one of the barbarians in. However frightening that had seemed till now, it might finally be a relief. |
| 6483 |
It was easy to see from the look of the apartment that she had great taste. She had made the same effort he had, washed her face, combed her hair, brushed her teeth, and put on a clean T shirt. Beyond that, she was barefooted, wearing jeans, and she looked happy to see him. She gave him a quick hug and looked him over. |
| 6484 |
Gray was on his knees looking for the shut off valve, and asked her for a wrench. She handed it to him, and a minute later, the water stopped. Problem solved, or at least put on hold for the moment. He emerged from under the sink with a broad smile, and wet jeans from the knees down, from where he had knelt. |
| 6485 |
And at least they weren't his. He had a psychotic terror of small children, or a phobia about them. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he knew it wasn't good. "Where are they?" he asked, looking around nervously, as though expecting them to spring out of a closet and leap at him, like pet snakes, or a pair of pit bulls. |
| 6486 |
Happier than he'd ever been in recent years. He had missed her, which seemed crazy even to him. He hardly knew her, but he had thought about her constantly during the last weeks of the trip. "It was great," he said, sitting in the leather chair in the towel, while she tried not to laugh, looking at him. |
| 6487 |
The apartment was so impeccably neat, he couldn't figure out what else to do with the towel other than hand it back to her. "Do you want me to go back and leave it on the floor?" he offered, and she shook her head, and then called in the order for the pizza. As soon as she did, she offered him a glass of wine. |
| 6488 |
She had several bottles of excellent California wine in the refrigerator, and opened one for him. It was a Chardonnay, and when he tasted it, it was delicious. They went back to the living room again then and sat down. This time she sat next to him on the couch, instead of across the glass coffee table from him. |
| 6489 |
Now that he saw her again, he realized that he liked her even better than he had before. There was something very real and meaningful about seeing her where she lived. It was different than seeing her in restaurants, or on Charlie's boat. She had looked beautiful and appealing to him then, but now she seemed more real. |
| 6490 |
Just as she did, in her simple ponytail, bare feet, and jeans. She was wearing the same stack of turquoise bracelets he had noticed her wearing in Italy. They sat there for a long time, talking about nothing in particular. They just enjoyed being together, and she was glad he had come over to help her with the leak. |
| 6491 |
She wanted to go to bed with him, but she knew it was much, much too soon, according to all the rules. They had barely known each other for a month, and hadn't seen each other in weeks. One day at a time, she told herself. She was still savoring their first kiss. And just as she thought about it, he kissed her again. |
| 6492 |
This one was more passionate, and she couldn't help wondering how many times he had done this with other women, how many affairs he'd had, how many crazy women had come into his life, wanting him to rescue them, how many times it had ended, and how many times he had started over again with someone else. |
| 6493 |
He had had a lifetime of meaningless relationships, like a merry go round of women, and in her whole life, she had loved only two men. And now him. She didn't love him yet. But she thought she could one day. There was something about him that made her want him to stay and stay and stay, and never leave. |
| 6494 |
And he could see she wanted him just as badly, but still felt she shouldn't. She was savoring the moment and thoroughly enjoying him. "See you tomorrow?" she said softly. It was nearly a tease, but not quite, and he was surprised to find he liked it, waiting for her, and the right moment, whenever that was. |
| 6495 |
In his studio, Gray opened his mail, checked his bills, and haphazardly took his clothes out of his suitcase. He left most of them lying on the floor, and took out what he wanted. He showered, shaved, dressed, quickly wrote some checks, ran out the door, mailed them, and went to the only florist he found open. |
| 6496 |
He wanted to make up for the absurdity and affronts in his own life. This was their chance to do it right, and make a difference to each other. She went to put the roses in a vase, and set them down in the living room on a table. "Are you hungry?" she called out to him, as she walked back into the kitchen. |
| 6497 |
Her skin showed no signs of age, and her body was young and tight and athletic. No one had seen it in a long time. There had been no man to mirror who she was or what she felt, and care about what she needed or wanted. She felt as though she'd been alone for a thousand years, and now finally he had come to join her. |
| 6498 |
She had no shame with him, and neither did he, and even though their bodies were no longer as perfect as they once had been, they were totally comfortable with each other. They took their lunch back to bed, and ate it, talking and laughing with each other. Everything between them was simple and fun and easy. |
| 6499 |
She had made scrambled eggs with cheese in them, and English muffins. It was the perfect end to their special day, one which they both knew they would never forget. And there was still so much left for both of them to discover. "I want to see your recent work," she said, thinking of it again, as they ate the eggs. |
| 6500 |
He had never had a normal woman in his life, and she hadn't had a partner and companion in her life in years. She slipped out of bed quietly, and went to take a shower. She let him sleep for as long as possible, and then made breakfast for both of them. She woke him up by serving him breakfast in bed on a tray. |
| 6501 |
It was a far cry from the women he had fed, served, taken care of, nursed back to health, or doled out their medication to because they were too irresponsible or whacked out to be responsible for it themselves. He looked up at Sylvia in amazement, as she set the tray down on the bed, and kissed his shoulder. |
| 6502 |
She handed him the newspaper, which she'd read herself, while she had coffee and toast in the kitchen. He glanced at it, and put it away. He would much rather talk to her. They chatted while he ate, and then he got up and got ready. They left for his studio at eleven, and walked out of her apartment hand in hand. |
| 6503 |
She ran an extremely successful gallery, had had two long relationships in her life, raised two normal, healthy children to adulthood, and everything about her life and apartment was impeccable, orderly, and neat as a pin. When he opened the door to his apartment, they could hardly get through the door. |
| 6504 |
The furniture was decent looking, although the upholstery was worn. He had bought everything in the place secondhand. There was a round dining table in the corner of the room, where he entertained friends for dinner sometimes, and beyond it was what had once been the dining room, and had always been his studio. |
| 6505 |
It was why she had come. She walked straight toward it, as he tried in vain to make order in the place, but it was beyond hopeless, he realized. Instead, he followed her into the next room, and stood watching her reaction to his work. He had three paintings on easels in various states of development. |
| 6506 |
They were representational and meticulous, dark in most cases, with extraordinary lights in them. There was one of a woman's face, in a peasant dress from the Middle Ages, that was reminiscent of an Old Master. His paintings were truly beautiful, and she turned to him with a look of admiration and respect. |
| 6507 |
He sold his work to people who had bought them previously, and to friends, like Charlie, who had bought a number of his paintings and also thought they were very good. "It's a crime to leave all these paintings just sitting here, without a home." There were stacks and stacks of them leaning against the walls. |
| 6508 |
But he was getting there faster than either of them had planned, and so was she. Seeing his work, and knowing he had dared to be vulnerable with her, made her care about him even more. She gave him a look that had no need of words, and he took her in his arms and kissed her. "I love your work, Gray," she whispered. |
| 6509 |
What he felt for her was entirely personal and private, it had nothing to do with his work, or wanting an introduction from her, and she knew that. "The hell you don't have enough for a show," she said forcefully, as she would have to one of her young artists, half art dealer, half pushy stage mother. |
| 6510 |
The young show offs were rarely as good. "Look at all this," she said, gently moving things so she could see what was in his stacks. It was gorgeous stuff, as good as what was in progress on the easels, or better. Once finished, his paintings seemed to be lit from within, some by candlelight, some by fire. |
| 6511 |
She thought his work was nothing less than brilliant and inspired. "Gray, we have to find you a gallery, whether you like it or not." It was the kind of thing he would have done for one of his previous women, helping them to find a gallery, an agent, or a job, more often than not with disastrous results. |
| 6512 |
Just as he had done for so many for so long. He smiled and nodded in answer. She had already decided who to call, there were at least three possibilities that were perfect for him. And she knew that if she thought about it, there would be others, uptown galleries, important ones, that showed work like his. |
| 6513 |
That still remained to be seen. But whether she did or not over time, there was no reason not to give him a hand with the right connections for his art. She knew damn near everyone in New York in the art world. She had proven herself to be so honorable and decent that doors opened for her with ease, and always had. |
| 6514 |
Sylvia glanced at her watch then. It was nearly noon and she had to get to her office. He promised to call her later, as she kissed him good bye, and a moment later she was scampering down the stairs as he called out to her. "Thank you!" he shouted down the stairwell, and she looked up with a broad smile. |
| 6515 |
She had to meet a deadline for their next ad in Artforum, and the photographer hadn't delivered the four by fives yet of the piece of sculpture in the ad. She didn't have time to breathe until four o'clock that afternoon. But as soon as she did, she made some calls for Gray. It was easier than she had expected. |
| 6516 |
The dealers she called trusted her reputation, her taste, and her judgment. Most people who knew her thought she had a good eye, and an instinct for great art. Two of the dealers she called asked her to send slides. The third was coming home that night from Paris, so she left a message for him to call her. |
| 6517 |
The messenger appeared at Gray's door at exactly four thirty, brought the slides to Sylvia, and shortly after five she had them and a cover letter in the hands of the dealers she'd called about Gray's work. She left her gallery at six, and as soon as she got home, Gray called her, and suggested dinner together. |
| 6518 |
He wanted to take her to a small Italian restaurant in his neighborhood. She was thrilled. It was funny and cozy and the food was delicious, and she was relieved to see on the menu that it was cheap. She didn't want him spending money on her, but she didn't want to humiliate him by offering to pay either. |
| 6519 |
She suspected they would be doing a lot of cooking for each other in the future. And after dinner that night, he took her home, and stayed at her place. They were falling into a delicious routine. They made breakfast together the next morning, and the next day he served her breakfast in bed. He said it was her turn. |
| 6520 |
She had never had a turn before, but this time they were partners, spoiling and pampering each other, listening to each other, consulting each other on what they thought. For the moment, everything about it was perfect. It frightened her to look into the future, or have too much hope that this meant more than it did. |
| 6521 |
After a lifetime of mistakes, they were both wise and well seasoned. Like a fine wine that had ripened perfectly with age. Not too old yet, but just old enough to be vibrant and delicious. Although her children might have thought them old, in fact they were the perfect age to enjoy and appreciate each other. |
| 6522 |
And as promised, she showed up in the morning in a sweatshirt and jeans to help him load up. It took them two hours to take everything he wanted downstairs, and he was embarrassed to have her work. She had already played fairy godmother to him, he hated to use her as delivery person too, but she was game. |
| 6523 |
She had brought a sweater and better shoes to change into when they went to the galleries that were expecting them. And by five o'clock it was over. He had offers from all three galleries, who were wildly impressed with his work. Gray couldn't believe what she had done, and even she had to admit she was pleased. |
| 6524 |
Sylvia said she felt sorry for them. Charlie seemed like a lonely man to her, and it saddened her to hear about his sister and parents, enormous irreversible losses for him. In the end, losing them had cost him the opportunity to be loved by someone else, which multiplied the tragedy exponentially for him. |
| 6525 |
She didn't say it to Gray, but she had a profound disrespect for men like him. As far as she was concerned, he needed therapy, a good swift kick in the ass, and a powerful lesson. She hoped that one of these days, some smart young thing would deliver it to him. From what she could see, he had it coming. |
| 6526 |
Women functioned differently than men, and came to different conclusions. Most women who had been badly burned retreated to nurse their wounds, whereas most men who had been wounded ran headlong into the world, wreaking vengeance on others. She was sure, as Gray said, that Adam was nice to the women he went out with. |
| 6527 |
Which made her realize once again what a miracle it was that she and Gray had found each other. She cuddled up next to him in bed that night, feeling safe and warm and lucky. And if, in the end, he went away again, at least they would have had this magical moment. She knew now that she could survive whatever happened. |
| 6528 |
He was going to a concert with Adam later that week. It was harder to get together with Gray. He tended to get involved in his work, and isolate himself for weeks on end. But he sounded in good spirits these days, and if he had signed up with a major gallery, things were obviously going well for him. |
| 6529 |
Everything was falling into place, and they had settled into an easy routine. He left in the morning to go to his studio, where he no longer slept. She went to the gallery, and they met back at her place around six, when they both got home. He usually brought a bottle of wine, or a bag of groceries. |
| 6530 |
Both of them knew that including friends in their private world was going to be important to the health of the relationship in the long run. They couldn't sit there alone forever, holding hands, watching movies on TV, and spending their weekends in bed, although they both loved it, and it was certainly fun. |
| 6531 |
First you slept together, then he spent the night, eventually with increasing frequency. At some point, he needed to have a closet and some drawer space, they hadn't gotten there yet, and his clothes were hung all over her laundry room. She knew she was going to have to do something about that one of these days. |
| 6532 |
After that he'd get a key, once you were sure that you didn't want to date anyone else, in order to avoid awkward moments, if he arrived at the wrong time. She had already given him one, there was no one else in her life, and sometimes he came home from the studio before she got back from the gallery. |
| 6533 |
She wasn't sure what came after that. Buying groceries, he had done that. Dividing up the bills. Answering the phone. She was definitely not there yet, in case she got calls from her kids, who knew nothing about Gray. Asking him to live with her, changing his address, putting his name on the mailbox and bell. |
| 6534 |
She hoped that Charlie wouldn't discourage him, or frighten him about her kids. She knew that that was Gray's one big Achilles' heel. He was phobic about kids, not only about having his own but about relating to someone else's. It didn't seem to matter to him that hers were adults and no longer children. |
| 6535 |
He was panicked about getting attached to anyone to that degree. For a man who had spent a lifetime nurturing some of the most dysfunctional women on the planet, the one thing that terrified him was meeting, dealing with, or relating to their kids. To Sylvia, it appeared to be a completely irrational fear. |
| 6536 |
Neither of them was coming home till Christmas. Sylvia thought there was plenty of time between now and then, three months in fact, to see how things were going with Gray, before she said anything to them. Both were out when she called that day, and she left loving messages on their answering machines. |
| 6537 |
That had happened to him before too, runaway wives who claimed they were separated, and weren't, or had an "arrangement." And then their husbands showed up and tried to kill him. He had played out every disastrous scenario possible in the years of his eternal bachelorhood. Occasionally, Charlie worried about him. |
| 6538 |
I own two frying pans, six forks, and four plates. I'm not sure what you think she could get out of me, but whatever it is, I'd actually be happy to give it to her. Relationships can be difficult, but believe me, Charlie, this is the first woman I've ever gone out with who doesn't look dangerous to me. |
| 6539 |
She's been married, and it doesn't sound like it was a great experience for her. Her husband walked out on her with a nineteen year old girl, after twenty years of marriage. She has kids, she says she's too old to want more. Her gallery is a huge success. She has a hell of a lot more money than I ever will. |
| 6540 |
He hadn't seen Gray in slightly over three weeks, and he was not only living with a woman, but talking about possibly marrying her one day. Charlie looked as if he'd been shot. And for a fraction of a second, seeing the look on his face, Gray realized that there was a distinct possibility that Sylvia had been right. |
| 6541 |
We're too old for that. And she's a lot healthier than you give her credit for. If she walked away from her husband of twenty years without a backward glance, she's not going to be hanging around my neck like an albatross, trying to get her claws into me. If anyone walks, she's a lot more likely to do it first. |
| 6542 |
I will again, if that happens. And yes, she probably is commitment phobic, so am I. Christ, I don't even want to meet her kids. I'm scared to death to get hurt or too attached, but this is the first time I've actually felt that the upside of the ride just might be worth a little pain, or even a lot of risk. |
| 6543 |
It wasn't just about the fatal flaws he found in his debutantes, it was about the pain he had been trying to avoid ever since his entire family died. Charlie was terrified to take a risk. Gray no longer was. It was a major milestone for him. And the fact that he was doing so was a huge threat to Charlie. |
| 6544 |
How high a price had they paid for the freedom they were hanging on to so desperately? Maybe too high a price. In the end, after defending their independence for a lifetime, they were all going to wind up alone. And suddenly since he'd met Sylvia, it had occurred to Gray that that might not be such a worthy goal. |
| 6545 |
Gray stood on the sidewalk, watching him, waved, put his head down, and walked away. He had decided to walk back to his apartment. He needed some air, and time to think. He had never heard Charlie be as blunt and cynical as that, and he knew he was right in his own assessment of his friend's situation. |
| 6546 |
And contrary to what Charlie believed, Sylvia hadn't brainwashed him, she had opened his mind and filled his life with sunlight. Standing next to her, he could see what he had always wanted, and never dared to find. She made him brave enough to be the man he wanted to be, but had been too frightened to be before. |
| 6547 |
It saddened Gray to think that that could happen. It seemed like a terrible waste to him. He had only known Sylvia for six weeks, but now that he knew her, and was opening his heart to her, his whole life had changed. It had cut him to the quick when, instead of celebrating with him, Charlie had called him a traitor. |
| 6548 |
And maybe that's what he wants. He has that right. From what you've said, he's had some pretty major abandonment issues since his family died. That's hard to get over. Everyone he ever loved as a kid died. It's hard to convince someone like that that the next person he loves won't abandon him and die too. |
| 6549 |
Their million dollars could do a lot, and he hoped it would. In spite of himself, he was still thinking about Gray as he walked to the front door. The worst of it was that he felt as though he was losing him to Sylvia. He hated to admit to himself that he was jealous of her, but in his heart of hearts, he knew he was. |
| 6550 |
And if she was manipulative enough, which he hoped she wasn't, she could blow their friendship right out of the water, and banish Charlie forever. The worst fear he had was of losing his friend. Death by marriage, or cohabitation, or spending the night, or whatever the hell Gray said it was. Charlie didn't trust her. |
| 6551 |
Her specialty and area of expertise was abused kids. This was a safe house for abused children and their mothers, but unlike other similar establishments, the main focus was on the children, more than their mothers. An abused woman without a child, or one whose children hadn't been abused, could not stay there. |
| 6552 |
She herself had raised over a million dollars to buy the house and start it, and his foundation had matched the funds she'd been able to raise on her own. From what he'd read of her, she was an impressive young woman, and the only other thing he knew about her was that she was thirty four years old. |
| 6553 |
He had no idea what she looked like, and had only spoken to her on the phone. She had been professional and businesslike, but had sounded kind and warm. She had invited him to come and see the place, and had promised to give him a tour herself. Everything on paper had checked out so far, including the director herself. |
| 6554 |
Some of them were from the most important people in New York. No matter how well trained and capable she was, she also had some powerful connections. The mayor himself had written a reference for her. She had met a lot of important people, and impressed them favorably, while putting the center together. |
| 6555 |
The young man led Charlie to a small, battered waiting room, and offered him a cup of coffee as soon as he sat down, which Charlie declined. He'd had enough to drink with Gray over lunch, and most of what had happened there was still sticking in his throat, but as he waited for her, he forced it from his mind. |
| 6556 |
There was an informal basketball game going on in a courtyard outside, and he noticed a sign inviting neighborhood women to come to a group twice a week, to talk about preventing child abuse. He wasn't sure what their impact on the community had been so far, but at least they were doing what they said. |
| 6557 |
She looked as though she should have been a model not a social worker. She smiled when she greeted him, but her manner was official and somewhat cool. They needed the funds the foundation had given them, but it went against the grain with her to grovel or kiss his feet, although she knew it would help. |
| 6558 |
Charlie knew that she ran all the community and children's groups herself. The only one she didn't run was the one for abused mothers. There was a woman from the community who had been trained and came to do that. Carole Parker did just about everything else herself, except scrub the floors and cook. |
| 6559 |
Her bio had said that in a pinch she was willing to do that too, and had. She was one of those women who were interesting to read about, but were sometimes daunting to meet. Charlie hadn't decided yet if she was. She was certainly striking, but when she sat down at her desk, she smiled at him and her eyes got warm. |
| 6560 |
Instead, she'd asked him to match what she had raised herself over the past three years. She had been stunned when she was notified by the foundation that their grant request had been approved. She had applied to at least a dozen other foundations at the same time, and all of the others had turned her down. |
| 6561 |
That was all that interested her. Raising money to do it was a necessary evil, but not one she enjoyed. She hated having to charm people in order to get money out of them. The acute need of the people she served had always been convincing enough for her. She hated having to convince others, who led golden lives. |
| 6562 |
She looked like anything but a social worker, but her credentials said she was. And then he remembered that she had gone to Princeton, and he said it was his alma mater too, hoping to break the ice. "I liked Columbia better," she said easily, visibly unimpressed that they had gone to the same school. |
| 6563 |
For a shocking instant, he realized that she looked like his sister, and then he did everything he could to forget it. It was too unsettling. She didn't see the look on his face as he followed her out her office door, and for the next hour she took him into every room, every office, dragged him down every hallway. |
| 6564 |
The stories she told him, when the children weren't around, were heartbreaking. For a few minutes, they watched a group in progress, and he was vastly impressed as he listened. Carole normally led the group, but she had taken the afternoon off from her duties to meet him, which she usually thought was a waste of time. |
| 6565 |
Carole told Charlie that he was on loan from a doctoral program from Yale. She had pulled in some incredible people to work with her, many of whom she had known before, and some of whom she had found along the way. She explained that she and Tygue had gotten their master of social work degrees together. |
| 6566 |
A lot more so than he, he felt. At thirty four, she had created a place that literally turned people's lives around, and made a difference for a number of human beings, old and young. He had been so busy listening to every word she said, once they started the tour, that he had completely forgotten to charm her. |
| 6567 |
The children usually didn't come downstairs, except to eat or play in the garden. The offices were all on the ground floor, which made more sense. Particularly if abusive parents showed up to look for their kids, or assault them again, when they had been mandated to Carole's care by the courts, as was Gabby's case. |
| 6568 |
He looked down at her, but his smile was wasted on her. And nothing he could do for her now would ever change what had happened to her, neither the memory, nor the result. All he had been able to do was indirectly pay for her dog. It seemed so much less than enough, which was what Carole always felt about what she did. |
| 6569 |
In spite of her initial prejudices about him, she liked him. He was probably a decent human being, just very fortunate and very spoiled. She had been fleeing from men like him all her life. But at least this one cared about making a difference. A million dollars' worth of difference. It said something about him. |
| 6570 |
She had absolutely hated him, and had nothing but contempt for him as she took in his suit and watch. And in spite of that, he liked her. He liked what she had done, what she believed in, how hard she had worked to set it up. She was an impressive woman, with an extraordinarily bright mind and a lot of guts. |
| 6571 |
One of his most important clients was singing. The whole concert tour had been an agony for him, and the contracts relating to it a nightmare to negotiate, but now that the big night had come, he was in great spirits. The star herself was one of the most important artists in the country, if not the world. |
| 6572 |
Scalpers were selling seats at four and five thousand dollars a ticket. People had stood on line for two or three days to buy them when the box office opened. It was the hottest show of the year, and Adam had warned Charlie to wear jeans. He didn't want him showing up in a suit, and getting the shit kicked out of him. |
| 6573 |
He couldn't even talk to Charlie until they were halfway there. He had gesticulated hello to him, and poured himself a drink in the limo, as they stopped at a red light. "Jesus, and my doctor wonders why my blood pressure is so high," he finally said, grinning at Charlie, who was vastly amused by his antics. |
| 6574 |
One of his assistants had just called him to say that Vana's hairdresser hadn't shown up with her wigs, and she was having a fit. They were rushing someone to her hotel to pick them up, but they might have to start late. It was all he needed. The unions would go nuts if they ran late, although they always did. |
| 6575 |
It took them nearly twenty minutes to push their way in, with the help of the police. There were two plainclothes cops waiting to take them to their seats. Adam disappeared to check on things backstage, as soon as they found their seats. Charlie said he'd be fine, and sat watching the crowds swirling around him. |
| 6576 |
But it seemed to work for her. Charlie couldn't help wondering what she looked like without the makeup, with her hair pulled back, in a clean pair of jeans. Probably even more striking than she did. He wondered if she was some kind of model, or an aspiring actress, but he was cautious about talking to her. |
| 6577 |
He had no clue as to why he was helping her, and he figured he'd probably regret it, but he grabbed her arm, pulled her out of the seat, and beckoned her to come with him. "If you promise to behave yourself, I can get you a seat on the stage." They always saved a few in case someone unexpected turned up. |
| 6578 |
They instantly let him through. The girl knew he was completely serious by then. She hadn't had a stroke of luck like that in years. Her friend had told her she was crazy to head for the front row, but it had paid off big time for her that night, as Adam helped her up the steps in her short skirt and high heeled boots. |
| 6579 |
He got a fabulous view of her bottom while she did, and had no qualms about checking it out. He figured that if she wore a skirt like that, she probably expected him to. "What's your name, by the way?" he asked for no particular reason, as he led her to a row of folding chairs tucked in at the back of the stage. |
| 6580 |
He put an arm around her shoulders and invited her to the party then. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him again, while Adam felt the impact of her breasts on his chest. Hers were real, and so was her nose. Everything she had had been God's gift, not store bought. He hadn't seen a girl like her in years. |
| 6581 |
Groupies, fans, photographers, and practically half the audience tried to crawl up on the stage. It took a dozen cops to get Vana off in one piece, and Adam couldn't even get backstage. He used his cell phone to call the stage manager, who told him that Vana was okay, and thrilled at how it had gone. |
| 6582 |
He said to tell her he would see her at the party, and when he turned around to talk to Charlie, Maggie was there. She had nearly lost her blouse and jacket trying to get off the stage, but she had managed to get back to them, and thanked Adam profusely again. She had no idea what had happened to her friend. |
| 6583 |
Not his scene. Adam didn't do drugs either, but he had nothing against women and drink. And lots of both. Maggie sat on the banquette opposite them with a look of ecstasy on her face, as Adam casually glanced up her skirt. Her legs were even better than he had realized at first. She had an absolutely unbelievable body. |
| 6584 |
But she looked as though she'd go home with him, he didn't think there would be a problem. He had picked up plenty of girls like her, and they were so excited to be taken along, particularly on a night like this, that they almost always wound up in his bed. It was a rarity when they didn't. He was sure Maggie would. |
| 6585 |
For an odd moment, he hoped she wouldn't. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, and he wanted her to be better than that, or at least have a fair chance. She was much too impressed with where Adam was taking her, and the seat he'd gotten her on the stage. Charlie wanted to tell her to have more self respect than that. |
| 6586 |
He rode up in the elevator, looking thoughtful, and when he let himself into his apartment, he stood looking out at the park in the dark. It had been a fun night, and he'd had a good time. He was tired, and a few minutes later he went to bed. Adam took Maggie to a bar, as he had promised, and she had a glass of wine. |
| 6587 |
She had a body that just wouldn't quit. They got to the party by one o'clock, and it was just starting. Adam knew there were a lot of drugs around. Cocaine, Ecstasy, heroin, crack, crystal meth. The crowd was wilder than usual, and it didn't take him long to figure out it was not a good scene to be in. |
| 6588 |
He was horrified when he saw where she lived. It was one of the most dangerous streets he'd ever seen. It was hard to imagine a girl who looked like her living there. Her life had to be a fight for survival every day, and he felt sorry for her, but he was also mildly annoyed that she hadn't spent the night with him. |
| 6589 |
He was going to throw it away when he got home. She was fun for a night, on a lark, or would have been, but there was no reason to ever see her again. He could have a hundred like her anytime he wanted to. He didn't need a waitress from Pier 92, no matter how pretty she was, or how good her legs were. |
| 6590 |
Maggie O'Malley would live in buildings like that forever, unless she got lucky, married some slob with a beer belly, and moved back to Queens again, where she could reminisce about the tenement she'd lived in in Manhattan, or the terrible job she'd had where drunken idiots reached up her skirt every night. |
| 6591 |
It could happen to anyone. But in this case it was happening to a girl called Maggie, whom he didn't know and never would. He drank a shot of tequila when he got home, thinking about her. He walked out on the terrace of his penthouse, and wondered what it would have been like if she'd been there. Exciting probably. |
| 6592 |
For a minute or two, an hour, or a night. That's all she was to him, and would have been. A bit of fluff and some fun. He took his clothes off then, and dropped them on the floor next to his bed. He slipped into bed in his jockey shorts, as he always did, and forgot about her. For him, Maggie was gone. |
| 6593 |
He had come in jeans and an old sweater this time, and a pair of running shoes. He'd been standing in the courtyard, talking to Tygue quietly when she came out of group and saw him. "Just taking another look." He had come without warning, and for a minute she thought he was checking up on them, and thought it was rude. |
| 6594 |
But he couldn't explain it to himself. She was a social worker, and he ran the foundation. Now that they had given her the money she needed, other than financial reports, there was no real excuse for further contact. Their lives were too different for there to be an excuse for social contact between them. |
| 6595 |
Kids who find great foster homes with good people and thrive. Others who get adopted by people who love them. Kids we get operations for, who wouldn't have otherwise. Gabby and her dog. Some of their problems we can solve, some we can't. You just have to accept where the limits are, otherwise it breaks your heart. |
| 6596 |
She had no idea why they would. As he looked at her, her eyes were blank. As far as Carole knew, he was the head of the foundation that had just given them a million dollars, and not much else. She couldn't imagine being friends with him. Her only contact with him was what it was now. Professional and courteous. |
| 6597 |
She had no idea that he was trying to be friends. It never occurred to her that he would. She walked him out a few minutes later, before she went into another group. When she left him, he was still chatting with Tygue, and said he'd come back soon. A few minutes later, Charlie left, and took a cab downtown. |
| 6598 |
She had set the table beautifully for him, with tall white candles and a big basket of tulips in the center. She had wanted everything to be just right for him, because she knew how much he meant to Gray, and she had liked him when they first met. She wanted Gray's friendship with him to remain solid. |
| 6599 |
And she didn't want him disrupting theirs. There was room for both of them in Gray's life, and she wanted to prove that to Charlie, by welcoming him into their lives. As she looked at him, her eyes were warm. She knew how suspicious he had been of her, once Gray told him that he was involved with her. |
| 6600 |
He told them about Gabby and her dog, the others he'd met, and the stories she'd told him. He had known of incidents of child abuse before, but none as ugly or as disheartening as the ones she'd told him. She didn't pull any punches. He realized now that other organizations had dressed it up for them. |
| 6601 |
She had sworn a war against poverty, child abuse, neglect, hypocrisy, indifference. She had taken a big bite into the woes of the world, and she had no time or patience for the kind of world he lived in, where people turned a blind eye, ignored what was going on around them, and got dressed up and went to parties. |
| 6602 |
She had no time herself to waste on things like that, and no desire to pursue them. What she wanted was to help her fellow man, and save their children. Charlie's eyes lit up like a bonfire as he spoke of her, and Sylvia and Gray watched him. She had set his mind and heart ablaze with what she'd showed him. |
| 6603 |
She had even laughed at him about his watch. He couldn't even imagine telling her he had a yacht, although most people in his world had heard about the Blue Moon. But yachting magazines were about as far from her field of interest as it got. He laughed to himself thinking about it as he got into bed that night. |
| 6604 |
He still felt sorry for her when he thought of her. Despite her outfit, there was something sweet and innocent about her. There were times when Adam's behavior with women, and lack of conscience about it, made his skin crawl. But as Adam always pointed out, if they were willing, they were all fair game. |
| 6605 |
He hadn't knocked anyone unconscious and raped them yet. They lay down at his feet adoringly, and what happened after that was between two consenting adults. Charlie just wasn't so sure that Maggie had been quite as adult as she looked, or as practiced at his game. She wasn't looking for implants or a nose job. |
| 6606 |
She smiled and said she was fine. He asked how things were going at the center, if there were any new developments, and Carole found herself wondering if he was going to be checking on them constantly for the next year. It was a little unusual to hear from the heads of foundations who gave them grants. |
| 6607 |
He sounded sincere to her. She let her guard down slowly as she listened to him, and he was a good connection to have. "When would you like to get together?" he asked her casually, pleased with the way the conversation was going. He had given her the option of lunch or dinner, so she didn't feel pressured by him. |
| 6608 |
And maybe the last one in this case. There was nothing in her voice to suggest that she was interested in him. She probably wasn't, but he'd get a better sense of it when they met and talked over a meal. If she had no interest whatsoever, he wasn't going to stick his neck out and make a fool of himself with her. |
| 6609 |
He could sense her skittishness. Charlie knew women well, he'd been doing this for a long time. A lot longer than Carole, who didn't have the faintest idea how experienced he was, or what he had in mind. Given even a hint of encouragement, which she hadn't given him so far, he wanted to change her life. |
| 6610 |
It's not quite as romantic as it sounds. It means Night Star in Italian, but actually it's a play on words. Stella is the owner, she does all the cooking, and she weighs about three hundred pounds. I don't think they'd ever get her more than an inch or two off the ground, but the pasta is fantastic. |
| 6611 |
He looked the type, but this was work. She wasn't going to get dressed up for him. She'd rather have gone to Mo's in that case. She wasn't about to change her lifestyle for him, no matter how much money the foundation had to give them. There were some things she no longer did, and never would again. |
| 6612 |
There was nothing to tell them yet, except that he was having an informal foundation dinner with her, since he had used a ruse to get her there. It wasn't a date. He had walked to the restaurant himself. It was a longer walk for him, but like her, he needed the air. He'd been anxious about it all day. |
| 6613 |
She had a pale blue sweater draped over her shoulders, and it occurred to him that with what she wore, she would have looked perfect on the Blue Moon. She looked like a sailor or a tennis player, she was a long, lean, athletic looking woman, and her eyes were a clear bright blue, the same color as her sweater. |
| 6614 |
I was at the foundation all day. We're trying to figure out how much we want to spend internationally. There are some very good programs in dire need in developing countries, but they have a hell of a time implementing them once they get the money. I had a conference call with Jimmy Carter today, on that subject. |
| 6615 |
The food was as delicious as he had promised, and they talked about her ideas for the center until dessert. She had some big dreams and hard work ahead of her, but after what she'd accomplished so far, he knew she was capable of achieving all she set out to do. Especially with help from foundations like his. |
| 6616 |
Nor did she. She looked somewhere in her mid twenties. And they looked handsome together, and were very similar in type, almost like brother and sister, as he himself had noticed when he had first observed that she looked a lot like his sister, Ellen, and his mother. "My clock is ticking," he confessed to her. |
| 6617 |
He had been a research scientist, and started a drug company we all know. And he was totally nuts. He was twenty years older than I was, and an extraordinary man. He still is. But narcissistic, crazy, brilliant, successful, charming, and alcoholic, dangerous, sadistic, abusive. They were the worst six years of my life. |
| 6618 |
He could see that she had been to hell and back, which was why she cared so much about the children she worked with. She had been there herself, although in a different way. He had felt cold chills run up his spine at the story she told him. She had made it sound simple and quick, but he could see that it wasn't. |
| 6619 |
He was sorry that it had happened to her. Sorrier than she knew. But she was still alive to tell the tale, and doing wonderful work. She could have been sitting in a chair somewhere, drooling, or on drugs or drunk out of her mind, or dead. Instead, she had made a good life for herself. But she had given up so much. |
| 6620 |
We all are. If you choose to be alone, you may not get hurt by anyone, but you pay a big price for it. It's a big ticket item, and you know that. So you may not have any obvious bumps and bruises this way, no fresh scars. But when you go home at night, you hear the same thing I do, silence, and the house is dark. |
| 6621 |
She was no longer sure it was entirely about her plans for the center, and she was right about that. "Let's be friends," she said gently, wanting to make a deal with him, to set the ground rules early on, and the boundaries that she was so good at. He looked at her for a long, hard time before he answered. |
| 6622 |
It had never occurred to her when he invited her to dinner. She genuinely thought it was foundation business, but she liked him better than that now, enough to want to be friends. "I don't know," he said vaguely, not ready to admit that he had lied to her, or used a ruse to get her to have dinner with him. |
| 6623 |
He already knew he was in for trouble. They expected him to go to services with them, and he had been planning to, as he did every year. But one of his star athletes had just called him in a panic. His wife had been arrested for shoplifting, and he admitted that his sixteen year old son was dealing cocaine. |
| 6624 |
He had missed the services at the synagogue entirely, but at least he had made it in time for dinner. He knew his mother would be furious, and he was disappointed himself. It was the one day of the year he actually liked to go to synagogue to atone for his sins of the past year and remember the dead. |
| 6625 |
The rest of the time, his religion meant little to him. But he loved the tradition of high holidays, and was grateful that Rachel observed all the traditions with his kids. Jacob had been bar mitzvahed the previous summer, and the service where his son had read from the Torah in Hebrew had reduced him to tears. |
| 6626 |
But tonight he knew there would be no such tender moments. His mother would be livid that he hadn't made it in time to go to synagogue with them. It was always something with her. His taking care of his clients in a crisis meant nothing to her. She had been furious with her younger son ever since his divorce. |
| 6627 |
High Jewish holidays meant nothing to his clients, but they meant a lot to his mother. Her face looked like granite when he let himself into the house and walked into the living room. He was so stressed and anxious, he was pale. Coming home always made him feel like a kid again, which was not a happy memory for him. |
| 6628 |
He still tried, but never knew why he did. Mae finally came to call them in to dinner, and as they sat down at their usual places, Adam saw his mother stare down the length of the table at him. It was a look that would have wilted concrete. His father was at the opposite end, with both couples lined up on either side. |
| 6629 |
They'd been shooting basketball hoops and secretly smoking cigarettes outside. His own children never came. His mother saw them alone with Rachel, on her own time. Adam's place was between his father and sister, like someone they had made room for at the last minute. He always got the table leg between his knees. |
| 6630 |
He was treated like a creature from outer space, and sat there sometimes feeling like ET, growing paler by the minute, and desperate to go home. The worst part of it for him was that this was home, hard as that was for him to believe. They all felt like strangers and enemies to him, and treated him that way. |
| 6631 |
His father had made a fortune in the stock market forty years before, and they could have afforded to go anywhere in the world. His mother liked to pretend they were still poor. And she hated planes, so they never ventured far. "It was very nice," she said, foraging for something else to spear him with. |
| 6632 |
His father's standard answer to the question eventually was "pretty good," as he stared into his plate, never looked at you, and continued to eat. Removing himself mentally entirely, and refusing to enter into the conversation, had been the only way his father had survived fifty seven years of marriage to his mother. |
| 6633 |
He was, and had been even as a child, an embarrassment and an annoyance. The kindest thing they had ever done for him was ignore him. The worst was scold him, shun him, berate him, and spank him, all of which had been his mother's job when he was growing up, and she was still doing it now that he was in his forties. |
| 6634 |
She was slim and spare and in remarkably good shape although she was seventy nine years old. His father was eighty, but going strong, physically at least. She took a copy of the Enquirer out of the sideboard then, and passed it down the table, so everyone could see it. She hadn't sent him the clippings of that one yet. |
| 6635 |
She'd apparently been saving it for the high holidays, so everyone could enjoy it, not just Adam. He saw that it was a photograph taken of him at Vana's concert. There was a girl standing next to him with her mouth wide open and her eyes closed, in a leather jacket, and her breasts exploding out of a black blouse. |
| 6636 |
He stared at it for a minute, and had absolutely no recollection, and then he remembered. Maggie. The girl he'd gotten a seat on the stage for, and whom he had taken home to the tenement she lived in. He was tempted to tell his mother not to worry about it, since he hadn't slept with her, so obviously she didn't count. |
| 6637 |
She was his only ally, and always had been. He felt like he'd been in hell for several hours by the time they got up from the table after dinner. The knot in his stomach was the size of his fist by then, as he watched them settle into the same chairs where they always sat, and had been sitting before dinner. |
| 6638 |
She had punished him adequately for not going to synagogue with them. He was free to go. He had done his duty, as whipping boy and scapegoat. It was a role she had assigned him for his entire life, since he had had the audacity to arrive in her life at a time when she thought she was finished having children. |
| 6639 |
He had been a major inconvenience to her, and never a source of joy. The others took their cues from her. At fourteen, Ben had been mortified to have his mother pregnant again. At nine, Sharon had been outraged by the intrusion on her life. His father had been playing golf, and unavailable for comment. |
| 6640 |
As it turned out, the punishment that had been meted out to him had been a blessing. The woman who had taken care of him until he was ten had been loving and kind and good and the only decent person in his childhood. Until his tenth birthday, when she was summarily fired and not allowed to say good bye. |
| 6641 |
The picture of her in the Enquirer was awful. He remembered her looking better than that. In her own way, she was a cute girl. He thought about her for a few minutes and wondered if he should call her. Probably not, but he knew he needed to do something that night to restore his battered guts and ego. |
| 6642 |
Sitting in his apartment, Adam ran through his address book. He called seven women. All he got were their answering machines, and then he thought of Maggie. He figured she was probably working, but just for the hell of it, he decided to call her. It was after midnight by then, and maybe she was home. |
| 6643 |
He dialed the number. He knew it was ridiculous to reach out to her, but he had to talk to someone. His mother drove him crazy. He hated his sister. He didn't even hate her. He disliked her, nearly as much as she disliked him. She had never done anything with her life except get married and have two children. |
| 6644 |
A message machine finally came on with several girls' names on it, and he left his name and number for Maggie, wondering why he'd bothered. Like everyone else he knew, Maggie was out that night, and as soon as he set the receiver down, he knew it was stupid to have called her. She was a total stranger. |
| 6645 |
She was just a waitress. Seeing her in the clipping his mother had used to torture him had reminded him of her, and he was relieved now that she hadn't answered. He hadn't even slept with her, and the only reason he had kept her number was because he had forgotten to take it out of his jacket and toss it. |
| 6646 |
In spite of his mother's dire warnings about potential alcoholism, and telling him that even migraine headaches could result, he poured himself a drink before he went to bed, and lay there after he did, trying to recover from the strain of the evening on Long Island. He hated going home and seeing them. |
| 6647 |
What was the point of having him, if they were going to treat him like an outcast all his life? He lay in bed, thinking of them, as the headache his mother had warned him about began to pound. It took him nearly an hour after that to fall asleep. An hour later, he was in a deep sleep when the telephone rang. |
| 6648 |
She had liked meeting him, and was grateful for the seat he'd gotten her. But she was disappointed he hadn't called her afterward. When she mentioned it to them, her friends at the restaurant where she worked didn't think he would. They thought the fact that she hadn't slept with him might make him less interested. |
| 6649 |
Guys like him took advantage of girls like her all the time, and afterward they never called them. That's what her friends had said, and when he didn't call, she decided they were right. She was even happier now that she hadn't slept with him, although she'd thought about it and decided against it. She didn't know him. |
| 6650 |
The kind of women he went out with had rarely had easy lives, most of them had been molested by male relatives, left home at sixteen, and had gone to work as actresses and models. There were few women he knew who had had normal lives, or were debutantes like the ones who went out with Charlie. Maggie was no different. |
| 6651 |
They had been chatting aimlessly for half an hour. And she still believed his call to her had been a booty call, which she thought was just plain rude and downright insulting. She wondered how many other women he had called, and if he would have bothered to call her at all, if one of the others had come to his aid. |
| 6652 |
She had made him some silly speech about not doing things like that on a first date. And if so, with Adam, there would be no second. And now she was talking to him at nearly three A.M., and listening to him complain about his mother. She didn't even seem to mind, although his call to her had clearly been a booty call. |
| 6653 |
And as she got into bed and crawled under the blanket, she wondered if he'd actually show up. Guys did things like that. They made promises and then broke them. She decided to get dressed and wait for him anyway, just in case. But even if he didn't show up the next day, it had been nice talking to him. |
| 6654 |
The first Saturday in October. She was wearing a denim miniskirt, a tight pink T shirt she had borrowed from one of her roommates, and gold sandals. She had pulled her long hair straight back this time, and had tied a pink scarf around it in a long ponytail that made her look even younger than she was. |
| 6655 |
The next time she looked at her watch, it was five after twelve and he hadn't shown up yet. Everyone else in the apartment had gone out, and she was beginning to wonder if he really was going to come. Maybe not. She decided to give it till one, and if he didn't, she was going to go for a walk in the park. |
| 6656 |
There was no point being depressed if it didn't happen. She hadn't told anyone, so no one was going to laugh at her if he stood her up. She was thinking about it when the phone rang. It was Adam, and she smiled the minute she heard his voice. Then just as quickly, she wondered if he was calling to cancel. |
| 6657 |
It was rare in her life, and always had been, for people to actually do what they said. And he had. She walked out her front door, and he was sitting there looking like a movie star in his brand new red Ferrari. It was the one he had driven to Long Island the night before, which his entire family had politely ignored. |
| 6658 |
She had never had them before, but they sounded good to her when he described them. Afterward, they sat at their table in the garden and drank wine, and when they finally left the restaurant, they went for a walk. She loved looking in the shop windows with him, and talking about the people he represented. |
| 6659 |
By the end of the afternoon, she felt as though she knew everything about him, and she had cautiously told him some things about herself. Maggie was more reserved than he was, and she seemed to prefer talking about him. She told him little anecdotes about her childhood, her foster parents, the people where she worked. |
| 6660 |
The thing that made him sad for her, now that he knew her better, was that it hadn't happened to her. It had happened to him. After dinner, she would have to go back to the miserable tenement where she lived. He hated the realities of her life, for her sake. She deserved so much more than fate had dished out to her. |
| 6661 |
Nothing he did would change the stark realities for her, but the funny thing was, she didn't seem to mind. She didn't have a jealous bone in her body, and whatever facet of his life she saw or heard about, she was happy for him. Maggie was a totally different kind of woman from anyone he had ever met before. |
| 6662 |
She looked like all the others, but absolutely nothing about her was the same. She was kind and gentle and funny, and everything about her was real. She was smart, and enjoyed sparring with him. And much to his delight, she thought he walked on water. The other women he went out with all wanted to use him. |
| 6663 |
Maggie seemed as though all she wanted was to be with him and share a good time. There was an irresistible quality of innocence about her in contrast to all the women who had crossed his path in the past several years. She made a big salad while he got the steaks out of the fridge and lit the barbecue. |
| 6664 |
They sat there talking and kissing for a long time, and then they took their bathing suits off, as night fell over New York, on a warm October night. They lay together side by side for a long time, and then he wrapped her in a towel and carried her inside. He laid her on his bed, and then unwrapped her like a gift. |
| 6665 |
He insisted on driving her back to her apartment. He didn't want her taking a cab. It was too dangerous where she lived. She had been good to him, he wanted to be good to her. She felt like Cinderella again on the drive home, even more so this time, because the Ferrari was his, and not a rented limousine. |
| 6666 |
But he never said a word about it to her. They both continued to claim and reap the benefits of their freedom. Adam wasn't sleeping with anyone else during the early weeks of their relationship, he didn't want to, he was becoming increasingly addicted to her. And she told him openly that there was no one else for her. |
| 6667 |
But as the weeks went by, there were nights when he called, that no one was home. He found as time went by, he hated that more and more. It made him think that he should start seeing other women one of these days, just so as not to get too attached to her. But as Halloween approached, he hadn't done anything about it. |
| 6668 |
He was still being totally exclusive to her, after a month. It was the first time he had done that in years. Adam was mildly bothered that he and Charlie hadn't seen much of each other since Charlie had gotten back a month before. But every time he called and invited him somewhere, Charlie was busy these days. |
| 6669 |
Adam knew he had a heavy social schedule, and a lot of work to do for the foundation, but it irked him that they hadn't had time to get together. The good news was that it gave him more time to spend with Maggie. He was getting increasingly antsy about her, and worried about what she did when he wasn't around. |
| 6670 |
As time went on, there were still a number of nights they didn't spend together, when she just wasn't home. And she never told him where she'd gone. She just reappeared bright and cheerful the next day, fell back into bed with him, happy as can be, with her utterly irresistible body. He was crazier about her every day. |
| 6671 |
Without even knowing it, she was beating him at his own game. All the options he had so grandly told her he wanted in the beginning meant less to him every day. Judging by the number of times she was out when he called her late at night, she seemed to be taking advantage of her freedom more than he. |
| 6672 |
Adam finally sent e mails to both of them, and got Gray and Charlie to agree to a boys' night out, two days before Halloween. It had been over a month since any of them had seen each other. It was the first time in years it had been that long, and all three complained that the others had disappeared. |
| 6673 |
His relationship with Maggie seemed to be steadily on track, but was destined to go nowhere, as they had agreed from the first. They were just dating and maintaining separate lives and doing whatever they wanted whenever they weren't together. But when they were, she was one hot mama, and he loved being with her. |
| 6674 |
He could never seem to get enough of her, and was occasionally even irritated by her independent spirit. That had never happened to him before. He was always the independent one in his relationships, but Maggie was more so. She seemed to need a lot of time to herself, which he always wanted too, but not with her. |
| 6675 |
In truth, they all were, but none of them were ready to admit it to each other, or themselves. And none of their relationships had stood the test of time yet. They hadn't survived first arguments, or the ordinary disappointments that happened to everyone. They were still up to their ears in the novelty and the fun. |
| 6676 |
They had missed each other in the past month, and hadn't even known it. They were so busy doing other things, and spending time with the women they were involved with, that they hadn't realized how vital a part of each other's lives they were, and how vast a void it left when they didn't see each other. |
| 6677 |
They promised to get together more often. And in the meantime they reveled in talking politics, money, investments, art, in honor of Gray's new gallery thanks to Sylvia, and their respective occupations. Adam had added two new major clients, and Charlie was pleased with the progress at the foundation. |
| 6678 |
The kids all had a terrific time, the cupcakes were a big success, and he had brought a ton of Halloween candy for them, since they couldn't go trick or treating in the neighborhood. It was too dangerous, and most of them were too young. It was nearly eight o'clock by the time Carole and Charlie left. |
| 6679 |
The cab sped down Fifth Avenue, and stopped at his address. He got out wearing his lion suit, and she with her green wig and green face, and the doorman smiled and greeted them as though he were wearing a business suit and she an evening dress. They rode up in the elevator in silence, smiling at each other. |
| 6680 |
Carole stopped and looked at a table full of photographs, while he went to get them a glass of wine, and turned on the rest of the lights. There were several of his parents, a beautiful one of Ellen, and a number of other friends. And there was a funny one of him, Gray, and Adam on the boat that summer. |
| 6681 |
It was embarrassing, but he knew that sooner or later he'd have to tell her that he owned a yacht. At first it had seemed pretentious to him, but now that they were seeing so much of each other, and exploring the possibility of dating, he wanted to be honest. It was no secret that he was a wealthy man. |
| 6682 |
She clung to him this time as he did. He was awakening things in her that she had forgotten and repressed for years. She had put her heart and soul into her work, and had forgotten all else. But in Charlie's arms, she remembered now how sweet it was to be kissed, and how much sweeter still to be cherished by a man. |
| 6683 |
He walked her around the apartment then, showed her some of his treasures, and the things he loved most. Photographs of his parents and sister, paintings he had bought in Europe, including a remarkable Degas that hung over his bed. And after she had looked at it for a moment, he led her from the room. |
| 6684 |
They wound up in the kitchen finally, where they had a snack before she left. They'd never eaten a proper dinner that night, just a lot of cupcakes and candy, until they made sandwiches and sat at the kitchen table, chatting. "I know this sounds ridiculous, Charlie." She was trying to explain to him how she felt. |
| 6685 |
He knew how frightened Carole was, of getting too attached, of getting hurt again, and he had his own fears to contend with too. He worried about the same thing, and he was always waiting for the fatal flaw to surface. In her case it was an obvious one, and not a hidden flaw. It was right out in front, like a flag. |
| 6686 |
She didn't invite him up, but she had told him earlier that her place was a mess. He had never seen her studio, but could well imagine how challenging it was to live in one room. And she led a busy life. He kissed the tip of her nose before he left her, and she laughed when she saw that he had green lips. |
| 6687 |
His new Princeton alumni directory had come, and just for the fun of it, he looked up Carole's name. He knew the year she'd graduated, so it was easy to look up. He flipped through the correct pages, and then frowned when he didn't see her name. He thought about the year she'd told him, and he went through it again. |
| 6688 |
She wasn't there, which was strange. There was obviously a mistake. He mentioned it to his secretary later that morning, and decided to do Carole a favor, and save her some time, since he was sure she'd want it corrected herself. He asked his secretary to call the alumni office and report the omission to them. |
| 6689 |
He was hard at work on some financial reports later that afternoon, when his secretary called him on the intercom, and he picked it up, looking distracted. He was trying to make sense of some extremely complicated financial projections far into the future, and had to concentrate on what she had just said. |
| 6690 |
But first he needed time to absorb it, and two days later, he was taking her to the ballet. He made a decision that afternoon to say nothing until then, and deal with it after that. He called her late that afternoon, and said the board of trustees was having a crisis and he couldn't see her until Friday. |
| 6691 |
She said she understood perfectly, and those things happened to her too. But when she hung up at her end, Carole wondered why he had sounded so chilly. In fact, he'd nearly been crying. He felt completely ripped off and disillusioned. The woman he had admired so totally since the day they met was a liar. |
| 6692 |
She was beautifully dressed, and had even worn a pair of very proper pearl earrings that she said had been her mother's. He believed not a single word she said now. She had tainted everything between them with her lies about Columbia and Princeton. He no longer trusted her, and she thought he looked stiff and unhappy. |
| 6693 |
Charlie had no idea what she was talking about as he stared at her, wishing Carole would come back. As angry as he was at her, standing awkwardly next to her was a lot more pleasant than being trapped by this dreadful woman and her mealymouthed husband, both of whom were glued to him because of who he was. |
| 6694 |
She sounded like a madwoman as she spewed gossip and details of a situation that completely bemused him. She was talking about some woman whose husband had left her who had apparently been a Van Horn. It all sounded more than a little crazy to Charlie, as she looked at him as though he were completely stupid. |
| 6695 |
Carole's fatal flaw, he had discovered in the past few days, was not the obvious one that she came from a different world, and a simple background, and was uncomfortable in his world, or even that she was a fraud, as he had thought on Wednesday. Her fatal flaw, as it turned out, was a much simpler one. |
| 6696 |
She had no idea what was wrong with him that night, but it was very obvious to her that he was upset about something. And she didn't have long to wait to find out what it was. He opened the front door for her, turned the lights on, strode into the living room with her following him, and didn't even bother to sit down. |
| 6697 |
He didn't want to see her face again. It hurt too much. The fatal flaw was hanging in the breeze. She walked quietly out of the apartment, and closed the door behind her. She was still shaking when she got into the elevator, and when she got downstairs. She told herself that the whole thing was ridiculous. |
| 6698 |
He was angry at her for being rich, when in fact he was richer still. But it wasn't about that, and she knew it. He was furious with her because she had lied to him. She took a cab back to her house, and hoped that he would call her that night. He didn't. He didn't call her that night or the next day. |
| 6699 |
He hated the reminder that he had to spend another rotten holiday with them again. He hated the holidays, and always had, because of that. His mother managed to ruin every single one of them for him. The only mercy was that his parents celebrated Chanukah and not Christmas, so he got to spend Christmas with his kids. |
| 6700 |
He just didn't like admitting it, but he also didn't like hurting her feelings. And he hated not being with her on Thanksgiving. He hated all of it. And he felt like a shit. She was at work when he called her, and he left a loving message on her machine. He never heard from her when she got off work. |
| 6701 |
And she didn't turn up at the apartment. He called her that night, and she was out. After that, he called her every hour on the hour, until midnight. He thought she was playing games with him, until one of her roommates answered, and told him she was really out. The next time he called, they said she was asleep. |
| 6702 |
But he wanted to see her, and he wanted to know what was going on. There were at least two nights a week when he called her and she wasn't home. If she was seeing someone else, he wanted to know. She was the first woman he had been faithful to in years. And he was beginning to wonder if she was cheating on him. |
| 6703 |
He had been thinking about that himself. The holidays were always hard for him and he hated to make plans. For him, holidays were a time for people with families to gather around and share their warmth, and for people who didn't have any to feel the bitter chill of all they'd lost and would never have again. |
| 6704 |
He just can't forgive women their frailties or accept that it still might be okay to love them, and give them a break for once. He never does. He's so fucking afraid that he might get hurt or they might die or leave him that he hits the ejector button if someone coughs. I've seen him do it every time. |
| 6705 |
And from what she knew of his history, it was easy to figure out what happened every time. He was terrified whatever woman in question would abandon him, so he ditched her first. "The guy just has no flex, there's no give in what he expects." They both knew from their own lives that in a relationship one had to bend. |
| 6706 |
Everything between him and Sylvia was great, and had been since they met. They laughed sometimes over the fact that they hadn't had a single disagreement, or even a first fight. They knew that something would come up one of these days, but it hadn't yet. They seemed to be perfectly matched in every way. |
| 6707 |
No one gets off scot free. Maybe hers wasn't such a cakewalk either. I've read a lot about her father, he's a pretty important guy, but he doesn't sound like a sweetheart to me. I don't know, Charlie. Maybe you're right, maybe she's just a lying piece of shit, and she'll break your heart, and your balls. |
| 6708 |
What if she's just a decent human being who got sick and tired of being who she is, and growing up as the kid of one of the richest guys who ever lived? It's hard to imagine for someone like me, but you of all people should know that the responsibilities that come with who you are aren't a lot of fun sometimes. |
| 6709 |
Maybe she needed to take a break from all that. She had been living her life in hiding for nearly four years. She felt safer on the streets of Harlem than she did in her own world. It was a sad statement about her life, and all that had happened to her, some of which he knew she hadn't told him yet. |
| 6710 |
Life was about how you managed to get around the shoals and reefs of life without running aground and sinking the ship. Charlie stayed with them until ten o'clock that night, talking and chatting about what they were all doing. They told funny stories about themselves and each other, about living together. |
| 6711 |
He felt nostalgic and hugged them both when he left. It touched his heart to see them so happy together, but increased the sharp focus on his own loneliness too. He couldn't even imagine what it felt like to be like that, two people slowly weaving their lives together after so many years on their own. |
| 6712 |
It all seemed so high risk. And then as he lay in bed and thought about them later that night, as though possessed by a force stronger than he was, he leaned over and picked up the phone. His fingers dialed her number before he could stop himself, and the next thing he knew he heard Carole's voice on the phone. |
| 6713 |
Sometimes it was just hard being out there, visible to all. It gave people a tremendous target to focus on and take aim at. Sometimes even he felt like he had a bull's eye painted on his back, and apparently she did too. It wasn't an easy way to live. "I'd love to see your boat sometime," she said cautiously. |
| 6714 |
There was nothing he could do about it. He felt that some things in life couldn't be changed or avoided. It was his code of ethics, and sense of duty to his family, however painful they were for him. Thanksgiving with his family was a responsibility he felt he couldn't shirk, no matter how unpleasant. |
| 6715 |
What kind of firm did they run, catering to drug addicts and whores? Adam's stomach tied itself into the appropriate knot. No worse than usual, but uncomfortable all the same. His mother talked about getting old, one of these days she wouldn't be around, and they'd better appreciate her while they still could. |
| 6716 |
But whatever she saw, he knew it wasn't him. She was seeing the little boy she had berated all his life, the one who had intruded on their lives and her bridge games. The one she had criticized since he was born. Not the man he had become, with accomplishments and achievements, disappointments and pain. |
| 6717 |
It always always always was, and always would be. And maybe he did go out with women who looked like whores. So what? They were nicer to him than anyone in his family had ever been. And they didn't give him any shit. All they wanted was boob jobs and new noses, and a couple of shots at his charge cards. |
| 6718 |
He shouldn't have come. He should have stopped coming years ago. If they couldn't respect him, if they didn't care who he was, and didn't even see him, if they thought he deserved all the shit Rachel had put him through and still was, then maybe they weren't his family after all, or didn't deserve to be. |
| 6719 |
His nieces and nephews didn't know him. His family didn't care. And he didn't want to care anymore either, not for people who cared so little for him. He imagined that they sat staring at each other, as they heard the Ferrari drive away, and then they walked into the dining room. No one mentioned him again. |
| 6720 |
Nothing matched, everything was dirty, the window shades were broken and torn, there was a bare lightbulb hanging from a frayed wire in the middle of the room, and the carpet was filthy. The springs of the two couches they'd bought at Goodwill were sagging to the floor, and there was an orange crate as a coffee table. |
| 6721 |
He couldn't imagine living like this, or her coming out of a place like that looking even halfway decent. There was dirty laundry all over the bathroom floor, and dirty dishes everywhere. The hallway when he'd come up had smelled of cats and urine. It made his heart ache just seeing her standing there in her nightgown. |
| 6722 |
She had never let him come up before, and he hadn't asked, and now he felt guilty about that too. The woman slept in his bed nearly every night and he said he loved her, and when she left him, she came back to this. This was worse than Cinderella cleaning up her stepmother's house, scrubbing floors on her knees. |
| 6723 |
She just put on jeans, a sweater, a Levi's jacket, and boots, washed her face, and combed her hair. She said she'd shower and put on makeup at his place, and she had decent clothes there. She hated to leave them in the apartment, because her roommates always took them and never gave them back, even her shoes. |
| 6724 |
There was a slim chance that his walking out might teach them to treat him better, but he doubted it. All he knew right now was that he was happy with Maggie, and his stomach didn't ache. That was a lot, and a vast improvement. It was Sunday night before he asked her what had been on his mind all weekend. |
| 6725 |
He always did. She stayed with him that night, and as he cuddled up next to her, just as they were about to fall asleep, she tapped him on the shoulder, and he opened one eye. She had a way of wanting to discuss earth shattering events with him, or life altering decisions, just as he was drifting off to sleep. |
| 6726 |
He felt less compelled to take her to simple down to earth restaurants, now that he knew who she was, and it was fun for both of them to go someplace nice. They had a delicious lunch, and then wandered up Madison Avenue, looking into the shops. For the first time, she opened up with him about her early life. |
| 6727 |
She talked about how cold and distant her parents had been, how chilly with each other, and emotionally and physically unavailable to her. She had been brought up by a nanny, never saw her parents, and she said her mother was a human block of ice. She had had no siblings to comfort her, she was an only child. |
| 6728 |
He hesitated to mention it to her so soon after they hadn't seen each other for so long. But it was as though they had never been apart. Her arm was tucked into his as they strolled up Madison Avenue, chatting as though he'd never left. He felt as though he belonged in her life, and she had exactly the same feeling. |
| 6729 |
Going to the deb ball with him was a big step for her, backward into her old life. But she also knew it was just a one night oddity for her now, not a way of life. As a tourist, she could handle it, though she didn't want more of it than that. It was a compromise and gesture she was willing to make for him. |
| 6730 |
They had been together since lunchtime, and had had a long lunch. They had a lot of time to make up for now, and had admitted over lunch how much they had missed each other. He had missed talking to her, knowing what she did, and sharing the excitement and complications and daily details of his own life with her. |
| 6731 |
He had gotten used to her sage advice and wise counsel in the month they'd been seeing each other, and had felt her absence sorely once she was gone, as she had his. They walked into a small distinguished looking vestibule as they walked into the house. It had an elegant black and white marble floor. |
| 6732 |
There were two small sitting rooms on the ground floor, one of which led into a handsome garden, and one flight up the stairs was a beautiful living room with large comfortable upholstered chairs and couches, a fireplace, and English antiques that she had taken from one of her parents' houses with their permission. |
| 6733 |
It was after eight o'clock when she finally offered to cook him dinner. And he politely offered to take her out. It had just started snowing, and they both agreed it was much cozier inside. In the end, they made pasta and omelettes, standing together at the stove, with French bread, cheese, and salad. |
| 6734 |
By the time dinner was over, they were both laughing at funny stories she told, and he told her about exotic places he'd been on the boat. And as they walked back into the living room, he took her in his arms and kissed her, and then suddenly he laughed. "What are you laughing at?" she asked, sounding slightly nervous. |
| 6735 |
A lot had happened in the meantime, and his four week absence had told her that she loved him. She was willing to take the chance. For her, it had been a long, long time. She nodded in answer to his question, and they settled comfortably into her big bed, where she slept in the middle when she was alone. |
| 6736 |
Their lovemaking was comforting and joyous, passionate and cozy at the same time. It was precisely what they both wanted so much, intimacy much needed and equally shared. And as the snow fell outside her windows that night, it looked like a Christmas card, and lying in each other's arms was like a dream. |
| 6737 |
And when she came out two hours later, he had gone back to his studio, to spend the night there for the first time in three months. It was a terrible situation, and when she called him, he said he was working and didn't want to talk. "Fuck," she said to herself, and paced some more. She had no idea how to win him over. |
| 6738 |
He didn't even want to see them. He only wanted her. She knew that if he remained firm on it, it would impact their relationship sooner rather than later. She wasn't sure whether to just let him be, and see if he'd relent on his own, or draw a line in the sand, and give him an ultimatum. Either way, she could lose him. |
| 6739 |
He was having a show in April, but they had already sold three of his paintings that they'd hung in the gallery in the meantime. Sylvia had done a wonderful thing when she opened that door for him, and he was grateful to her, but not grateful enough to meet her kids. Some things he just couldn't do. |
| 6740 |
They encouraged Gray again to join them, but he wouldn't. He said he had a lot of work to do to get ready for his show. As usual, they were the last to leave the restaurant, and had had a fair amount to drink. None of them drank unduly on his own, but once together, all bets were off, and they let it rip. |
| 6741 |
She had the weekend off from work anyway, and she had to do a paper, but she said she'd take her books with her and do it there whenever Adam was busy. She threw her arms around his neck and couldn't believe her good fortune. They were flying there on his plane. And then she turned to him with a look of panic. |
| 6742 |
He wanted to help her more than he did, and she never let him. But he respected her for it. She was an entirely different breed from any of the women he had known. They were leaving for Vegas on Friday afternoon, and she was so excited she could hardly stand it. She threw her arms around his neck, and thanked him. |
| 6743 |
He wanted to make up to her for all the hard times she'd had, and she was always grateful to him, and never took anything for granted. The following weekend, after the trip to Las Vegas, he told her he wanted her to celebrate Chanukah with him and his kids. He told his mother they wouldn't be there. |
| 6744 |
All their early life and training showed its colors at moments like that, dancing school, deb parties, all the things that Carole shunned and tried to forget now. But tonight she was back in her old world, though just for a brief visit. Charlie knew he wouldn't get her to do things like that often, and he didn't mind. |
| 6745 |
Her father had a way of casting a pall on everything, it was just the way he was. She also introduced him to her mother, who sat in glacial silence, shook his hand, nodded, and turned around. And that was it. Carole and Charlie went back to their table and then danced some more before they sat down. |
| 6746 |
It was designed to make people miserable and feel left out. Even kids, they never get what they want. People argue, children fight. Santa Claus is a lie we tell kids and then disappoint them later, when we think they're old enough to take it, and tell them it's not true. I hate the whole damn mess, and I won't do it. |
| 6747 |
Although she hadn't said it in so many words, it sounded as though it was a deal breaker to her. He feared it would be. But he knew this was one thing he couldn't do for her, and wouldn't. "I'll call you tomorrow," he said gently, as he walked her into her house. He didn't ask to stay, nor did she invite him. |
| 6748 |
The shows, the shops, the lights, the gambling, the people, and even the title fight. In the end, he had bought a dress for her and a little fur jacket, and she had worn them to the fight. She had won five hundred dollars on the slot machines on a fifty dollar investment of her own money, and she was thrilled. |
| 6749 |
She knew he went often, and he had the plane, so they could go anywhere they wanted, which was a new concept for her. She felt like a bird with giant wings. "I can't," he said, looking out the window, and then, like Charlie, he knew he had to tell her. He had to sooner or later, and the time was now. |
| 6750 |
She even showed Amanda how to do her makeup, baked cookies with Jacob, and gave him tips about girls. They thought she was the best thing since sliced bread, she was young enough to have fun with them, and old enough to be someone they looked up to. Adam had expected some resistance to her, and got none. |
| 6751 |
The cease fire only lasted through the weekend. Charlie had dinner with Carole twice after the debutante ball, and a decided chill had settled in between them. She didn't say anything about it initially, and then finally the second time she saw him, she asked him if he had changed his plans. He shook his head. |
| 6752 |
He stopped trying to explain it to her, and decided to deal with it when he got back. If she was still speaking to him by then. Adam called him in the office the day before Charlie was leaving town. Charlie was in a mad rush trying to finish everything on his desk. And Adam said his office was just as bad. |
| 6753 |
If their marriage has been lousy, they decide to get divorced. If their mistresses have been cranky, they get knocked up. If their kids are crazy, they wind up in jail. If a singer hates her contract, she tears it up. And half my athletes get drunk over the holidays and go out and rape someone. It's a lot of fun. |
| 6754 |
And he was planning to be gone for three weeks, which was a long time for her to stay upset with him. Particularly since they'd only just gotten back together. They didn't need another major bump in the road, and they'd already hit one. He was almost sure the relationship wouldn't survive another. He hated to lose her. |
| 6755 |
What else was there to say? She knew it would be over by the time he returned. For her anyway, if not for him. She felt as strongly about this as he had about her lying about her name. If you were in a relationship, as far as she was concerned, you spent the holidays together. He didn't see it that way. |
| 6756 |
She looked at him longingly and kissed him. And then they took a cab back to her place, and spent the night together before he left the next day. He even saw her tree. When Adam got home that night, he handed Maggie a credit card. She was sitting over her law books and didn't look up when he came in. |
| 6757 |
He was staying at his studio now nearly every night, and she wasn't pressing him to stay at her apartment. She was too angry at him. She understood that he had "issues," but as far as she was concerned, he was taking it too far. He wasn't even trying to deal with them. Gilbert was arriving in two days. |
| 6758 |
She tried to explain it to her son, when he asked about him, but it sounded nuts even to her. As she had pointed out to Gray, people their age were supposed to be saner than that, but apparently he wasn't, and was making no attempt whatsoever to get his neuroses in check. He was reveling in them. Like a pig in slop. |
| 6759 |
They were crying for what might have been, what had been, and all the insanity that they had experienced separately but in the same place and for the same reasons. "What are you doing here?" he finally managed to choke out. Gray had never even tried to see him, and probably wouldn't if he hadn't been standing there. |
| 6760 |
The last time he had seen Boy, he was a child. And then once at their parents' funeral. Gray had never seen him again, nor wanted to. Gray had spent a lifetime closing the door on the past, and now this man had put a foot in it, and was keeping the door open, and shoving it wider, with his deep sunken eyes. |
| 6761 |
His life had been a nightmare. And nothing their parents had done before that had helped. It amazed Gray that Boy was still alive. Looking at him, it was hard to make sense of any of it, and the memories came flooding back. They scarcely knew each other, but they cried for each other and held hands. |
| 6762 |
His parents had been crazy and limited, but at least they tried, even as messed up as they were. And Boy had tried too. Enough to come and see him. In comparison, Gray felt he had done far less with his emotional life, until Sylvia, and now he was limiting that too, and hurting her because he was scared. |
| 6763 |
He was shivering, and Gray gave him his coat. It was his best one. He had grabbed it on the way out, but it seemed a fitting gesture for the dying brother he had never known. He wished he had gone to see him before that, but he hadn't. It had never occurred to him, or in fact it had, and he had run from the idea. |
| 6764 |
He felt almost as though Boy were his son. Boy thanked him and was asleep before Gray closed the door. Gray painted all night. He did sketches of him, dozens of them, so he wouldn't forget every detail of his face, and laid down the foundation for a painting. He felt as though it were a race against death. |
| 6765 |
He never went to bed all night, and he woke Boy at eight and made him scrambled eggs. Boy ate about half, and drank some juice, and then said he had to leave. He was taking a cab to the airport, but Gray said he'd go with him. Boy just smiled, and then they left. He had to be there at ten for an eleven o'clock flight. |
| 6766 |
He looked like a madman, or an artist, and he looked as though he hadn't combed his hair in days. And then suddenly he had his arms around her and they were crying and he was telling her he loved her. He was still holding her when Emily walked out of customs with a big grin as soon as she saw her mother. |
| 6767 |
He was on his way to Vermont, and said he had met Sylvia's kids. Everything was fine. Adam had no idea how it had happened, but Gray had said he would tell him about it over lunch when he got back. Charlie was waiting for them at the airport with two crew members and the captain, and he already had a tan. |
| 6768 |
When they got there, Maggie couldn't believe the boat. She walked from one end to the other, looking at everything, talking to crew members, asking questions, and she said she felt like Cinderella all over again when she saw their cabin. She said it was going to be like a honeymoon, and Adam gave her a dark look. |
| 6769 |
Carole looked totally at home. She had brought the perfect wardrobe of white jeans and shorts, little cotton skirts and blouses, she even had deck shoes, which Maggie checked out, and was impressed. She had brought a lot of really dressy stuff, along with bikinis, and shorts, but Carole assured her she looked great. |
| 6770 |
By the time they left port late that afternoon, all four felt as though they had been traveling together forever. The only dark cloud on the horizon was that Maggie got seasick on the way to St. Kitts, and Charlie had her lie down on deck. She was still a little green when they anchored just outside the port. |
| 6771 |
They were at anchor that night, instead of in port. Charlie always preferred it, and it was more peaceful on the water than having people walk by all night on the quay. Carole preferred it too. She'd had a wonderful time with him and the others. "I'm fine," he said, looking out at the water, the lord of his domain. |
| 6772 |
She could see why he loved being on the boat. Everything about the Blue Moon was perfect, from their cabins to the food, and the impeccably trained crew. It was a life one could easily adjust to, it seemed a million miles away from real life and all its problems. It was a life of being constantly and totally pampered. |
| 6773 |
Even more than she had expected to. He was the perfect companion, perfect lover, perfect friend. He glanced over at her through his cigar smoke, looked at her strangely, and worried her again. He looked as though he had something on his mind. "I'm glad you like the boat," he said with a pensive expression. |
| 6774 |
She was going to miss that when she went home. For her, it had been one of the great advantages of conjugal life. She hated sleeping alone, and in good times had enjoyed the constant companionship of marriage. Charlie had seemed to enjoy sleeping with her too, and didn't appear to mind the intrusion in his cabin. |
| 6775 |
But not this time. He was worried that in the end, he wouldn't want to settle down. And then everyone would get hurt, they always did. He had finally met a woman he didn't want to hurt, nor did he want to be hurt by her. There seemed to be no avoiding it if you got close. He didn't know what to do about it. |
| 6776 |
She took a shower, and was dressed when he woke up. He lay in bed, looking at her for a long time. For a terrible moment she had the feeling that she was seeing him for the last time. She hadn't done anything wrong on the trip, or been too clingy or too attached. She had just allowed life to take its course. |
| 6777 |
He put on shorts and a T shirt, and stood on deck watching as they lowered the tender to take them into port. He was going to Anguilla that day, after they left. He kissed Carole before she got into the tender, and looked into her eyes. She had the feeling he was saying more to her than just good bye. |
| 6778 |
She hadn't pressed him about when he was coming home. She thought it was better not to, and she was right. She had the feeling that he was poised at the edge of a terrifying abyss. He patted Adam on the shoulder and gave him a hug, and then he kissed Maggie on both cheeks. She apologized for getting seasick. |
| 6779 |
And for the first two weeks they were back, she had the flu. She still had it and couldn't shake it, when she went back to work anyway. She couldn't lose any more days, or they'd fire her. She was still at work one afternoon, when Adam came home from the office, and found a note that the cleaning woman had quit. |
| 6780 |
He knew how tired Maggie was, so he decided to take out the garbage and do the dishes before she got back. He emptied the wastebasket in her bathroom into a big plastic bag, and just as he was about to tie a knot in it, something caught his eye. It was a bright blue stick. He had seen them before, but not in a while. |
| 6781 |
He stopped what he was doing, gingerly fished it out, and stared at it in disbelief. He sat down on the toilet and stared at it, before throwing it back in and then tied the knot, but when he did, his face was grim. He looked like a tornado when Maggie got home. She went straight to bed, saying she felt like shit. |
| 6782 |
She called both that day, used his name as he had told her to do, and got an appointment for the following afternoon. Adam offered to go with her, but she said she could handle it alone. At least she was being decent about it. But they hardly talked to each other that night. They were both too stressed. |
| 6783 |
She hadn't left the apartment, and she had cried herself to sleep every night, thinking that he hated her and would probably leave her and she'd be alone with their baby, and never see him again. "It was fine. I did a lot of thinking." Her heart nearly stopped as she waited for him to tell her that she had to move out. |
| 6784 |
She had no idea what conclusions he was coming to, the only thing she was absolutely certain of was that he needed space. She gave him a wide berth. It was all she could do. She grew more frightened every day. It was a full two weeks before he finally called her. She was sitting in her office when the phone rang. |
| 6785 |
He asked her if they could meet for lunch the next day. "That would be wonderful," she said, trying to sound light hearted, but she wasn't even fooling herself. He sounded terribly and profoundly upset. He seemed cool and businesslike, and after she'd agreed to meet him for lunch, she wondered if she should cancel. |
| 6786 |
All she could do now was wait. She didn't even bother to put on makeup the next morning. There was no point. He didn't care anyway. If he loved her, and wanted her, he would have called her from the boat in the past two weeks, or seen her the night before. He hadn't. He might love her, but he didn't want her. |
| 6787 |
Mo waved at her when they walked in, and Carole tried to smile. Her face felt wooden, her feet felt like cement, and there was a brick in her stomach. She could hardly wait to get it over with, and go back to her office so she could cry in peace. They sat down at a corner table and they both ordered salads. |
| 6788 |
If you're going to do it, do it. Stop fooling around. Stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. To hell with the fatal flaw, and getting hurt, and worrying that the person you love is going to die or walk out or turn out to be a lemon. If you're going to do it, do it. And if it's a mess, we'll pick up the pieces later. |
| 6789 |
They decided not to tell his children until the baby showed, which was a couple of months off yet. And they weren't going to tell his mother till after the children knew. Adam wanted to do them the honor of telling them first. It was still going to be hard to explain. And he was sure Rachel would have plenty to say. |
| 6790 |
She was four months along. He had to go to Las Vegas the week after that, and he asked her if she wanted to go with him. Coincidentally she had two days off, which worked fine for her. He had been in surprisingly good spirits, given the amount of tension in his life, and he had been a good sport about the baby. |
| 6791 |
The act they had come to see wasn't going on till midnight, and just before they went downstairs for dinner, Adam said he had to do some business in the room. He told her he'd use the conference room, and closed the doors. Two men in suits arrived, and as Adam had asked her to, she showed them into the room. |
| 6792 |
He said he had important news. They all arrived on time, and were ushered to a well placed table. The three women looked lovely, and everyone was in a good mood. They ordered drinks and chatted for a few minutes, and then Charlie told them that he and Carole were engaged and getting married in June. |
| 6793 |
It was a small, elegant, and formal event. Charlie got married in white tie and tails. Carole asked Sylvia to be her matron of honor, and Maggie to be her bridesmaid. Carole wore a simple but elegant gown in the palest mauve, and lily of the valley in her hair. She carried a bouquet of white orchids and roses. |
| 6794 |
It had been more challenging to find something for Maggie to wear. They had finally settled on an evening gown that was somewhere in color between Sylvia's lilac and Carole's pale mauve. It was lavender, and she carried lavender roses. By the day of the wedding, the dress was so tight she could hardly breathe. |
| 6795 |
They were taking the boat to Venice for a three week honeymoon. She was nervous about leaving the center, but Tygue had agreed to run it while she was gone. The last of the guests threw rose petals at the bridal couple as they got into the car and drove away, and Adam helped Maggie into their rented limousine. |
| 6796 |
Adam was looking at them both in wonder, and couldn't stop crying. Maggie was smiling and peaceful as they covered her, as though nothing had happened. They cut the cord then, and the baby looked at him as though they had seen each other somewhere before. "Does the young man have a name?" the second paramedic asked. |
| 6797 |
They were both fine, and she wanted to be home with Adam. Maggie said it had been the most beautiful day of her life. The baby was perfect. As Adam drifted off to sleep that night, with the baby in his bassinet next to them, Maggie poked him, and he gave a start and sat straight up and looked at his wife. |
| 6798 |
A woman in a white eyelet peasant skirt and a full sleeved white blouse was carrying a bouquet of red roses, and wearing red sandals. She was wearing an enormous straw hat, and an armful of turquoise bracelets. Beside her, there was a man in white trousers and a blue shirt, with a mane of white hair. |
| 6799 |
Maggie and Adam's second was due in October, two years after their life together began. The past two years had been happy and busy and full, for all of them, with babies and weddings, their other children had done well. Their careers were flourishing. Maggie was in college, and still headed for law school. |
| 6800 |
Every now and then he would look up at her and wag his tail, and then return to digging again. He was the Great Pyrenees her father had given her eight years before. His name was Charles, and in many ways he was her best friend. She laughed as she watched him chase a rabbit that eluded him and promptly disappeared. |
| 6801 |
He was normally well behaved, but the rain excited him, as he ran and barked. Christianna was having as much fun as the dog. After nearly an hour, slightly out of breath, she stopped, the dog panting heavily beside her. She took a shortcut then, and half an hour later, they were once again back where they began. |
| 6802 |
Christianna's long, almost white blond hair was matted to her head, her face was wet, and even her eyelashes were stuck together. She never wore makeup, unless she had to go out or was likely to be photographed, and she was wearing the jeans she had brought back from Berkeley. They were a souvenir of her lost life. |
| 6803 |
She had made friends she missed sorely now, they were part of another life she missed so much. She had come home to face her responsibilities, and do what was expected of her. To Christianna, it felt like a heavy burden, lightened only by moments such as these, running through the woods with her dog. |
| 6804 |
But there was nothing he could do about it. Christianna knew as well as he did that her childhood, and the freedom she had enjoyed in California, had come to an end. Charles looked up at his mistress questioningly as they reached the end of the bridle path, as though asking her if they really had to go back. |
| 6805 |
The slicker protected her, and her boots were caked with mud. She laughed as she looked at him, thinking it was hard to believe that this muddy brown dog was really white. She needed the exercise, as did the dog. He wagged his tail as he looked at her, and then with a slightly more decorous step, they walked home. |
| 6806 |
Friedrich was ten years older than she, and was traveling in Asia for the next six months. Christianna had turned twenty three that summer. Charles was still barking and, shaking the water off enthusiastically, had splattered nearly everyone around him with mud, as Christianna tried vainly to subdue him. |
| 6807 |
She signaled quickly to a young man, who rushed to lead the dog away. "I'm afraid he got awfully dirty," Christianna said with a smile to the young man, wishing she could bathe the dog herself. She liked doing it, but she knew it was unlikely they would let her. Charles yelped unhappily as he was led away. |
| 6808 |
She hadn't seen him all day, and she enjoyed the quiet moments they shared when he wasn't working, and had a few minutes to himself, which was rare. He was usually surrounded by assorted members of his staff, and was in a rush to get to meetings. It was a treat for him to enjoy a meal alone, especially with her. |
| 6809 |
She cherished the time they spent together. The only reason she had willingly come home from Berkeley was for him. There had been no other choice, although she would have loved to go on to graduate school just so she could stay in the States. She didn't dare ask. She knew the answer would have been no. |
| 6810 |
People said she looked like her mother, and somewhat like her father, who was as fair as she was, although both he and her brother were very tall, well over six feet. Christianna's mother had been as small as she was and had died when Christianna was five, and Friedrich was fifteen. Their father had never remarried. |
| 6811 |
And in spite of his many duties, he had made every effort to be both father and mother to her, not always an easy task. Christianna bounded up the back stairs in jeans, sweater, and stocking feet. She arrived in the pantry slightly breathless, nodded at the people there, and slipped quietly into the dining room. |
| 6812 |
Her father was sitting at the dining table alone, poring over a stack of papers, wearing his glasses, with a serious look on his face. He didn't hear Christianna come in. He glanced up and smiled as she slipped silently into the chair beside him. He was obviously pleased to see his daughter, he always was. |
| 6813 |
Christianna learned from his example and listened to what he said. Freddy was far more self indulgent, and paid no attention to his father's edicts, wisdom, or requests. Freddy's indifference to what was expected of him made her feel as though she had to attend to duties and uphold traditions for them both. |
| 6814 |
Although she would have liked it, even at her age, there wasn't even the remotest possibility of her staying in an apartment on her own. She was still mulling over his plan, but she was more interested in doing something useful that would make a difference to other people, than in going back to school. |
| 6815 |
The club gets its beer direct from the brewer, by the barrel. So they get it good; at once much cheaper, and much better, than at the public house. The members take it in turns to be steward, and serve out the beer: if a man should decline to serve when his turn came, he would pay a fine of twopence. |
| 6816 |
You see how admirably they are tilled, and how much they get off them. They are always working in them in their spare hours; and when a man wants a mug of beer, instead of going off to the village and the public house, he puts down his spade or his hoe, comes to the club house and gets it, and goes back to his work. |
| 6817 |
Several other clubs signed, and received their money. Very few could write their names; all who could not, pleaded that they could not, more or less sorrowfully, and always with a shake of the head, and in a lower voice than their natural speaking voice. Crosses could be made standing; signatures must be sat down to. |
| 6818 |
The jury to be strictly prohibited from seeing either the accused or the witnesses. They are not to be sworn. They are on no account to hear the evidence. They are to receive it, or such representations of it, as may happen to fall in their way; and they will constantly write letters about it to all the Papers. |
| 6819 |
His death was simply exhaustion; he broke off his work to lie down and repose. So gentle was the final approach, that he scarcely recognised it till the very last, and then it came without terrors. His physical suffering had not been severe; at the latest hour he said that his only uneasiness was failing breath. |
| 6820 |
It is not, that it may be recorded in these pages, as in his son's introductory chapter, that his life was of the most amiable and domestic kind, that his wants were few, that his way of life was frugal, that he was a man of small expenses, no ostentations, a diligent labourer, and a secluded man of letters. |
| 6821 |
It were bootless to expatiate on the host of talent engaged in formidable phalanx to do fealty to the Bleater. Suffice it to select, for present purposes, one of the most gifted and (but for the wide and deep ramifications of an un English conspiracy) most rising, of the men who are bold Albion's pride. |
| 6822 |
Let them be referred to. But from the infamous, the dark, the subtle conspiracy which spreads its baleful roots throughout the land, and of which the Bleater's London Correspondent is the one sole subject, it is the purpose of the lowly Tattlesnivellian who undertakes this revelation, to tear the veil. |
| 6823 |
And is this combination against one who would be always right if he were not proved always wrong, to be endured in a country that boasts of its freedom and its fairness? But, the Tattlesnivellian who now raises his voice against intolerable oppression, may be told that, after all, this is a political conspiracy. |
| 6824 |
The Bleater's London Correspondent is not merely acquainted with all the eminent writers, but is in possession of the secrets of their souls. He is versed in their hidden meanings and references, sees their manuscripts before publication, and knows the subjects and titles of their books when they are not begun. |
| 6825 |
The inhabitant of Tattlesnivel who has taken pen in hand to expose this odious association of unprincipled men against a shining (local) character, turns from it with disgust and contempt. Let him in few words strip the remaining flimsy covering from the nude object of the conspirators, and his loathsome task is ended. |
| 6826 |
They can examine for themselves whether there has been anything in the public career of that country during these past eight years, or whether there is anything in its present position, at home or abroad, which suggests that those influences and tendencies really do exist. As they find the fact, they will judge me. |
| 6827 |
It is the game of these men, and of their profligate organs, to make the strife of politics so fierce and brutal, and so destructive of all self respect in worthy men, that sensitive and delicate minded persons shall be kept aloof, and they, and such as they, be left to battle out their selfish views unchecked. |
| 6828 |
It will be sufficient to add, that to the most favourable accounts that have been written of them, I fully and most heartily subscribe; and that personal intercourse and free communication have bred within me, not the result predicted in the very doubtful proverb, but increased admiration and respect. |
| 6829 |
They must disbelieve all possibility of a human creature on the last verge of the dark bridge from Life to Death, being mysteriously able, in occasional cases, so to influence the mind of one very near and dear, as vividly to impress that mind with some disturbed sense of the solemn change impending. |
| 6830 |
To uphold these, he uses a book as a Clown in a Pantomime does, and knocks everybody on the head with it who comes in his way. Moreover, he is an angrier personage than the Clown, and does not experimentally try the effect of his red hot poker on your shins, but straightway runs you through the body and soul with it. |
| 6831 |
Why should great results spring from such small causes? Christ was born in a manger, he was not born a King. When you tell me why he was born in a manger, I will tell you why these manifestations, so trivial, so undignified as they appear to you, have been appointed to convince the world of the truth of spiritualism. |
| 6832 |
Amazing as the revelation is, we seem to have heard something like it from more than one personage who was wide awake. A quack doctor, in an open barouche (attended by a barrel organ and two footmen in brass helmets), delivered just such another address within our hearing, outside a gate of Paris, not two months ago. |
| 6833 |
Every Artist, be he writer, painter, musician, or actor, must bear his private sorrows as he best can, and must separate them from the exercise of his public pursuit. But it sometimes happens, in compensation, that his private loss of a dear friend represents a loss on the part of the whole community. |
| 6834 |
The writer was very intimately associated with him in some amateur plays; and day after day, and night after night, there were the same unquenchable freshness, enthusiasm, and impressibility in him, though broken in health, even then. No Artist can ever have stood by his art with a quieter dignity than he always did. |
| 6835 |
No man was ever held in higher respect by his friends, and yet his intimate friends invariably addressed him and spoke of him by a pet name. It may need, perhaps, the writer's memory and associations to find in this a touching expression of his winning character, his playful smile, and pleasant ways. |
| 6836 |
It is essentially a sad book, and herein lies proof of its truth and worth. The life of almost any man possessing great gifts, would be a sad book to himself; and this book enables us not only to see its subject, but to be its subject, if we will. Mr. Forster is of opinion that "Landor's fame very surely awaits him". |
| 6837 |
He thought well of his writings, or he would not have preserved them. He said and wrote that he thought well of them, because that was his mind about them, and he said and wrote his mind. He was one of the few men of whom you might always know the whole: of whom you might always know the worst, as well as the best. |
| 6838 |
It is very certain that no one could detest oppression more truly than Landor did in all seasons and times; and if no one expressed that scorn, that abhorrence of tyranny and fraud, more hastily or more intemperately, all his fire and fury signified really little else than ill temper too easily provoked. |
| 6839 |
Not to justify or excuse such language, but to explain it, this consideration is urged. If not uniformly placable, Landor was always compassionate. He was tender hearted rather than bloody minded at all times, and upon only the most partial acquaintance with his writings could other opinion be formed. |
| 6840 |
A completer knowledge of them would satisfy any one that he had as little real disposition to kill a king as to kill a mouse. In fact there is not a more marked peculiarity in his genius than the union with its strength of a most uncommon gentleness, and in the personal ways of the man this was equally manifest. |
| 6841 |
The impulsive yearnings of his passionate heart towards his own boy, on their meeting at Bath, after years of separation, likewise burn through this phase of his character. But a more spiritual, softened, and unselfish aspect of it, was to derived from his respectful belief in happiness which he himself had missed. |
| 6842 |
Their places are a blank. Standing on a seat at the side of the hall, the better to peer into the curtained sanctuary, is a little mad old woman in a squeezed bonnet who is always in court, from its sitting to its rising, and always expecting some incomprehensible judgment to be given in her favour. |
| 6843 |
This scarecrow of a suit has, in course of time, become so complicated that no man alive knows what it means. The parties to it understand it least, but it has been observed that no two Chancery lawyers can talk about it for five minutes without coming to a total disagreement as to all the premises. |
| 6844 |
From the master upon whose impaling files reams of dusty warrants in Jarndyce and Jarndyce have grimly writhed into many shapes, down to the copying clerk in the Six Clerks' Office who has copied his tens of thousands of Chancery folio pages under that eternal heading, no man's nature has been made better by it. |
| 6845 |
An arch of the bridge in the park has been sapped and sopped away. The adjacent low lying ground for half a mile in breadth is a stagnant river with melancholy trees for islands in it and a surface punctured all over, all day long, with falling rain. My Lady Dedlock's place has been extremely dreary. |
| 6846 |
The view from my Lady Dedlock's own windows is alternately a lead coloured view and a view in Indian ink. The vases on the stone terrace in the foreground catch the rain all day; and the heavy drops fall drip, drip, drip upon the broad flagged pavement, called from old time the Ghost's Walk, all night. |
| 6847 |
He is an honourable, obstinate, truthful, high spirited, intensely prejudiced, perfectly unreasonable man. Sir Leicester is twenty years, full measure, older than my Lady. He will never see sixty five again, nor perhaps sixty six, nor yet sixty seven. He has a twist of the gout now and then and walks a little stiffly. |
| 6848 |
He is of a worthy presence, with his light grey hair and whiskers, his fine shirt frill, his pure white waistcoat, and his blue coat with bright buttons always buttoned. He is ceremonious, stately, most polite on every occasion to my Lady, and holds her personal attractions in the highest estimation. |
| 6849 |
His gallantry to my Lady, which has never changed since he courted her, is the one little touch of romantic fancy in him. Indeed, he married her for love. A whisper still goes about that she had not even family; howbeit, Sir Leicester had so much family that perhaps he had enough and could dispense with any more. |
| 6850 |
But she had beauty, pride, ambition, insolent resolve, and sense enough to portion out a legion of fine ladies. Wealth and station, added to these, soon floated her upward, and for years now my Lady Dedlock has been at the centre of the fashionable intelligence and at the top of the fashionable tree. |
| 6851 |
With all her perfections on her head, my Lady Dedlock has come up from her place in Lincolnshire (hotly pursued by the fashionable intelligence) to pass a few days at her house in town previous to her departure for Paris, where her ladyship intends to stay some weeks, after which her movements are uncertain. |
| 6852 |
Yet every dim little star revolving about her, from her maid to the manager of the Italian Opera, knows her weaknesses, prejudices, follies, haughtinesses, and caprices and lives upon as accurate a calculation and as nice a measure of her moral nature as her dressmaker takes of her physical proportions. |
| 6853 |
Sir Leicester in a great chair looks at the file and appears to have a stately liking for the legal repetitions and prolixities as ranging among the national bulwarks. It happens that the fire is hot where my Lady sits and that the hand screen is more beautiful than useful, being priceless but small. |
| 6854 |
I had always rather a noticing way not a quick way, oh, no! a silent way of noticing what passed before me and thinking I should like to understand it better. I have not by any means a quick understanding. When I love a person very tenderly indeed, it seems to brighten. But even that may be my vanity. |
| 6855 |
I never went out at all. It was my birthday. There were holidays at school on other birthdays none on mine. There were rejoicings at home on other birthdays, as I knew from what I heard the girls relate to one another there were none on mine. My birthday was the most melancholy day at home in the whole year. |
| 6856 |
For yourself, unfortunate girl, orphaned and degraded from the first of these evil anniversaries, pray daily that the sins of others be not visited upon your head, according to what is written. Forget your mother and leave all other people to forget her who will do her unhappy child that greatest kindness. |
| 6857 |
One sunny afternoon when I had come home from school with my books and portfolio, watching my long shadow at my side, and as I was gliding upstairs to my room as usual, my godmother looked out of the parlour door and called me back. Sitting with her, I found which was very unusual indeed a stranger. |
| 6858 |
Many and many a time, in the day and in the night, with my head upon the pillow by her that my whispers might be plainer to her, I kissed her, thanked her, prayed for her, asked her for her blessing and forgiveness, entreated her to give me the least sign that she knew or heard me. No, no, no. Her face was immovable. |
| 6859 |
He appeared to enjoy beyond everything the sound of his own voice. I couldn't wonder at that, for it was mellow and full and gave great importance to every word he uttered. He listened to himself with obvious satisfaction and sometimes gently beat time to his own music with his head or rounded a sentence with his hand. |
| 6860 |
I often thought of the resolution I had made on my birthday to try to be industrious, contented, and true hearted and to do some good to some one and win some love if I could; and indeed, indeed, I felt almost ashamed to have done so little and have won so much. I passed at Greenleaf six happy, quiet years. |
| 6861 |
He then stirred the fire and left me. Everything was so strange the stranger from its being night in the day time, the candles burning with a white flame, and looking raw and cold that I read the words in the newspaper without knowing what they meant and found myself reading the same words repeatedly. |
| 6862 |
He was a handsome youth with an ingenuous face and a most engaging laugh; and after she had called him up to where we sat, he stood by us, in the light of the fire, talking gaily, like a light hearted boy. He was very young, not more than nineteen then, if quite so much, but nearly two years older than she was. |
| 6863 |
Upon that, we all went into the next room, Mr. Kenge first, with my darling it is so natural to me now that I can't help writing it; and there, plainly dressed in black and sitting in an arm chair at a table near the fire, was his lordship, whose robe, trimmed with beautiful gold lace, was thrown upon another chair. |
| 6864 |
The shawl in which she had been loosely muffled dropped onto her chair when she advanced to us; and as she turned to resume her seat, we could not help noticing that her dress didn't nearly meet up the back and that the open space was railed across with a lattice work of stay lace like a summer house. |
| 6865 |
I suppose nobody ever was in such a state of ink. And from her tumbled hair to her pretty feet, which were disfigured with frayed and broken satin slippers trodden down at heel, she really seemed to have no article of dress upon her, from a pin upwards, that was in its proper condition or its right place. |
| 6866 |
Mrs. Jellyby, sitting in quite a nest of waste paper, drank coffee all the evening and dictated at intervals to her eldest daughter. She also held a discussion with Mr. Quale, of which the subject seemed to be if I understood it the brotherhood of humanity, and gave utterance to some beautiful sentiments. |
| 6867 |
The fire went out, and all night long she slumbered thus before the ashy grate. At first I was painfully awake and vainly tried to lose myself, with my eyes closed, among the scenes of the day. At length, by slow degrees, they became indistinct and mingled. I began to lose the identity of the sleeper resting on me. |
| 6868 |
Below stairs the dinner cloth had not been taken away, but had been left ready for breakfast. Crumbs, dust, and waste paper were all over the house. Some pewter pots and a milk can hung on the area railings; the door stood open; and we met the cook round the corner coming out of a public house, wiping her mouth. |
| 6869 |
As he was half amused and half curious and all in doubt how to get rid of the old lady without offence, she continued to lead us away, and he and Ada continued to follow, our strange conductress informing us all the time, with much smiling condescension, that she lived close by. It was quite true, as it soon appeared. |
| 6870 |
A little way within the shop door lay heaps of old crackled parchment scrolls and discoloured and dog's eared law papers. I could have fancied that all the rusty keys, of which there must have been hundreds huddled together as old iron, had once belonged to doors of rooms or strong chests in lawyers' offices. |
| 6871 |
To see that composed court yesterday jogging on so serenely and to think of the wretchedness of the pieces on the board gave me the headache and the heartache both together. My head ached with wondering how it happened, if men were neither fools nor rascals; and my heart ached to think they could possibly be either. |
| 6872 |
Miss Jellyby gave my arm a squeeze and me a very significant look. I smiled in return, and we made the rest of the way back very pleasantly. In half an hour after our arrival, Mrs. Jellyby appeared; and in the course of an hour the various things necessary for breakfast straggled one by one into the dining room. |
| 6873 |
It was delightful to see the green landscape before us and the immense metropolis behind; and when a waggon with a train of beautiful horses, furnished with red trappings and clear sounding bells, came by us with its music, I believe we could all three have sung to the bells, so cheerful were the influences around. |
| 6874 |
There was a light sparkling on the top of a hill before us, and the driver, pointing to it with his whip and crying, "That's Bleak House!" put his horses into a canter and took us forward at such a rate, uphill though it was, that the wheels sent the road drift flying about our heads like spray from a water mill. |
| 6875 |
Presently we lost the light, presently saw it, presently lost it, presently saw it, and turned into an avenue of trees and cantered up towards where it was beaming brightly. It was in a window of what seemed to be an old fashioned house with three peaks in the roof in front and a circular sweep leading to the porch. |
| 6876 |
A bell was rung as we drew up, and amidst the sound of its deep voice in the still air, and the distant barking of some dogs, and a gush of light from the opened door, and the smoking and steaming of the heated horses, and the quickened beating of our own hearts, we alighted in no inconsiderable confusion. |
| 6877 |
Or you might, if you came out at another door (every room had at least two doors), go straight down to the hall again by half a dozen steps and a low archway, wondering how you got back there or had ever got out of it. The furniture, old fashioned rather than old, like the house, was as pleasantly irregular. |
| 6878 |
When we went downstairs, we were presented to Mr. Skimpole, who was standing before the fire telling Richard how fond he used to be, in his school time, of football. He was a little bright creature with a rather large head, but a delicate face and a sweet voice, and there was a perfect charm in him. |
| 6879 |
There was an easy negligence in his manner and even in his dress (his hair carelessly disposed, and his neckkerchief loose and flowing, as I have seen artists paint their own portraits) which I could not separate from the idea of a romantic youth who had undergone some unique process of depreciation. |
| 6880 |
In consequence of which he never kept an appointment, never could transact any business, and never knew the value of anything! Well! So he had got on in life, and here he was! He was very fond of reading the papers, very fond of making fancy sketches with a pencil, very fond of nature, very fond of art. |
| 6881 |
We have been mentioning Mrs. Jellyby. There is a bright eyed woman, of a strong will and immense power of business detail, who throws herself into objects with surprising ardour! I don't regret that I have not a strong will and an immense power of business detail to throw myself into objects with surprising ardour. |
| 6882 |
I can admire her without envy. I can sympathize with the objects. I can dream of them. I can lie down on the grass in fine weather and float along an African river, embracing all the natives I meet, as sensible of the deep silence and sketching the dense overhanging tropical growth as accurately as if I were there. |
| 6883 |
Upon the wall, their shadows blended together, surrounded by strange forms, not without a ghostly motion caught from the unsteady fire, though reflecting from motionless objects. Ada touched the notes so softly and sang so low that the wind, sighing away to the distant hills, was as audible as the music. |
| 6884 |
I was sufficiently engaged during the remainder of the evening in taking my first lesson in backgammon from Mr. Jarndyce, who was very fond of the game and from whom I wished of course to learn it as quickly as I could in order that I might be of the very small use of being able to play when he had no better adversary. |
| 6885 |
It wandered back to my godmother's house and came along the intervening track, raising up shadowy speculations which had sometimes trembled there in the dark as to what knowledge Mr. Jarndyce had of my earliest history even as to the possibility of his being my father, though that idle dream was quite gone now. |
| 6886 |
The whole seemingly monotonous and uncompanionable half dozen, stabled together, may pass the long wet hours when the door is shut in livelier communication than is held in the servants' hall or at the Dedlock Arms, or may even beguile the time by improving (perhaps corrupting) the pony in the loose box in the corner. |
| 6887 |
If he were to make a discovery to the contrary, he would be simply stunned would never recover himself, most likely, except to gasp and die. But he is an excellent master still, holding it a part of his state to be so. He has a great liking for Mrs. Rouncewell; he says she is a most respectable, creditable woman. |
| 6888 |
As is usually the case with people who go over houses, Mr. Guppy and his friend are dead beat before they have well begun. They straggle about in wrong places, look at wrong things, don't care for the right things, gape when more rooms are opened, exhibit profound depression of spirits, and are clearly knocked up. |
| 6889 |
He is so low that he droops on the threshold and has hardly strength of mind to enter. But a portrait over the chimney piece, painted by the fashionable artist of the day, acts upon him like a charm. He recovers in a moment. He stares at it with uncommon interest; he seems to be fixed and fascinated by it. |
| 6890 |
He sees her rooms, which are the last shown, as being very elegant, and he looks out of the windows from which she looked out, not long ago, upon the weather that bored her to death. All things have an end, even houses that people take infinite pains to see and are tired of before they begin to see them. |
| 6891 |
It is said that she had relations among King Charles's enemies, that she was in correspondence with them, and that she gave them information. When any of the country gentlemen who followed his Majesty's cause met here, it is said that my Lady was always nearer to the door of their council room than they supposed. |
| 6892 |
They were not well suited to each other in age or character, and they had no children to moderate between them. After her favourite brother, a young gentleman, was killed in the civil wars (by Sir Morbury's near kinsman), her feeling was so violent that she hated the race into which she had married. |
| 6893 |
Mr. Skimpole was as agreeable at breakfast as he had been overnight. There was honey on the table, and it led him into a discourse about bees. He had no objection to honey, he said (and I should think he had not, for he seemed to like it), but he protested against the overweening assumptions of bees. |
| 6894 |
We are always appearing, and disappearing, and swearing, and interrogating, and filing, and cross filing, and arguing, and sealing, and motioning, and referring, and reporting, and revolving about the Lord Chancellor and all his satellites, and equitably waltzing ourselves off to dusty death, about costs. |
| 6895 |
We were therefore curious to see Mrs. Pardiggle, suspecting her to be a type of the former class, and were glad when she called one day with her five young sons. She was a formidable style of lady with spectacles, a prominent nose, and a loud voice, who had the effect of wanting a great deal of room. |
| 6896 |
It was not merely that they were weazened and shrivelled though they were certainly that too but they looked absolutely ferocious with discontent. At the mention of the Tockahoopo Indians, I could really have supposed Egbert to be one of the most baleful members of that tribe, he gave me such a savage frown. |
| 6897 |
But they are my companions everywhere; and by these means they acquire that knowledge of the poor, and that capacity of doing charitable business in general in short, that taste for the sort of thing which will render them in after life a service to their neighbours and a satisfaction to themselves. |
| 6898 |
Ada told me afterwards that Mrs. Pardiggle talked in the same loud tone (that, indeed, I overheard) all the way to the brickmaker's about an exciting contest which she had for two or three years waged against another lady relative to the bringing in of their rival candidates for a pension somewhere. |
| 6899 |
I am very fond of being confided in by children and am happy in being usually favoured in that respect, but on this occasion it gave me great uneasiness. As soon as we were out of doors, Egbert, with the manner of a little footpad, demanded a shilling of me on the ground that his pocket money was "boned" from him. |
| 6900 |
Felix, at the same time, stamped upon my toes. And the Bond of Joy, who on account of always having the whole of his little income anticipated stood in fact pledged to abstain from cakes as well as tobacco, so swelled with grief and rage when we passed a pastry cook's shop that he terrified me by becoming purple. |
| 6901 |
At the doors and windows some men and women lounged or prowled about, and took little notice of us except to laugh to one another or to say something as we passed about gentlefolks minding their own business and not troubling their heads and muddying their shoes with coming to look after other people's. |
| 6902 |
Mrs. Pardiggle, leading the way with a great show of moral determination and talking with much volubility about the untidy habits of the people (though I doubted if the best of us could have been tidy in such a place), conducted us into a cottage at the farthest corner, the ground floor room of which we nearly filled. |
| 6903 |
The children sulked and stared; the family took no notice of us whatever, except when the young man made the dog bark, which he usually did when Mrs. Pardiggle was most emphatic. We both felt painfully sensible that between us and these people there was an iron barrier which could not be removed by our new friend. |
| 6904 |
We had observed before that when she looked at it she covered her discoloured eye with her hand, as though she wished to separate any association with noise and violence and ill treatment from the poor little child. Ada, whose gentle heart was moved by its appearance, bent down to touch its little face. |
| 6905 |
I thought it very touching to see these two women, coarse and shabby and beaten, so united; to see what they could be to one another; to see how they felt for one another, how the heart of each to each was softened by the hard trials of their lives. I think the best side of such people is almost hidden from us. |
| 6906 |
We stole out quietly and without notice from any one except the man. He was leaning against the wall near the door, and finding that there was scarcely room for us to pass, went out before us. He seemed to want to hide that he did this on our account, but we perceived that he did, and thanked him. He made no answer. |
| 6907 |
Ada was so full of grief all the way home, and Richard, whom we found at home, was so distressed to see her in tears (though he said to me, when she was not present, how beautiful it was too!), that we arranged to return at night with some little comforts and repeat our visit at the brick maker's house. |
| 6908 |
We all conceived a prepossession in his favour, for there was a sterling quality in this laugh, and in his vigorous, healthy voice, and in the roundness and fullness with which he uttered every word he spoke, and in the very fury of his superlatives, which seemed to go off like blank cannons and hurt nothing. |
| 6909 |
I chop it down and burn it in the morning. He sends his myrmidons to come over the fence and pass and repass. I catch them in humane man traps, fire split peas at their legs, play upon them with the engine resolve to free mankind from the insupportable burden of the existence of those lurking ruffians. |
| 6910 |
A man who joined his regiment at twenty and within a week challenged the most imperious and presumptuous coxcomb of a commanding officer that ever drew the breath of life through a tight waist and got broke for it is not the man to be walked over by all the Sir Lucifers, dead or alive, locked or unlocked. |
| 6911 |
I therefore forbore to ask any further questions. I was interested, but not curious. I thought a little while about this old love story in the night, when I was awakened by Mr. Boythorn's lusty snoring; and I tried to do that very difficult thing, imagine old people young again and invested with the graces of youth. |
| 6912 |
Thy image has ever since been fixed in my breast. I have walked up and down of an evening opposite Jellyby's house only to look upon the bricks that once contained thee. This out of today, quite an unnecessary out so far as the attendance, which was its pretended object, went, was planned by me alone for thee alone. |
| 6913 |
Then I arranged my desk, and put everything away, and was so composed and cheerful that I thought I had quite dismissed this unexpected incident. But, when I went upstairs to my own room, I surprised myself by beginning to laugh about it and then surprised myself still more by beginning to cry about it. |
| 6914 |
In his lifetime, and likewise in the period of Snagsby's "time" of seven long years, there dwelt with Peffer in the same lawstationering premises a niece a short, shrewd niece, something too violently compressed about the waist, and with a sharp nose like a sharp autumn evening, inclining to be frosty towards the end. |
| 6915 |
It is even observed that the wives who quote him to their self willed husbands as a shining example in reality look down upon him and that nobody does so with greater superciliousness than one particular lady whose lord is more than suspected of laying his umbrella on her as an instrument of correction. |
| 6916 |
But its roomy staircases, passages, and antechambers still remain; and even its painted ceilings, where Allegory, in Roman helmet and celestial linen, sprawls among balustrades and pillars, flowers, clouds, and big legged boys, and makes the head ache as would seem to be Allegory's object always, more or less. |
| 6917 |
Rusty, out of date, withdrawing from attention, able to afford it. Heavy, broad backed, old fashioned, mahoganyand horsehair chairs, not easily lifted; obsolete tables with spindle legs and dusty baize covers; presentation prints of the holders of great titles in the last generation or the last but one, environ him. |
| 6918 |
A thick and dingy Turkey carpet muffles the floor where he sits, attended by two candles in old fashioned silver candlesticks that give a very insufficient light to his large room. The titles on the backs of his books have retired into the binding; everything that can have a lock has got one; no key is visible. |
| 6919 |
He has some manuscript near him, but is not referring to it. With the round top of an inkstand and two broken bits of sealing wax he is silently and slowly working out whatever train of indecision is in his mind. Now the inkstand top is in the middle, now the red bit of sealing wax, now the black bit. |
| 6920 |
Guster disappears, glad to get out of the shop, which she regards with mingled dread and veneration as a storehouse of awful implements of the great torture of the law a place not to be entered after the gas is turned off. Mr. Snagsby appears, greasy, warm, herbaceous, and chewing. Bolts a bit of bread and butter. |
| 6921 |
He goes a short way, turns back, comes again to the shop of Mr. Krook, and enters it straight. It is dim enough, with a blot headed candle or so in the windows, and an old man and a cat sitting in the back part by a fire. The old man rises and comes forward, with another blot headed candle in his hand. |
| 6922 |
The floor is bare, except that one old mat, trodden to shreds of rope yarn, lies perishing upon the hearth. No curtain veils the darkness of the night, but the discoloured shutters are drawn together, and through the two gaunt holes pierced in them, famine might be staring in the banshee of the man upon the bed. |
| 6923 |
One could not even say he has been thinking all this while. He has shown neither patience nor impatience, nor attention nor abstraction. He has shown nothing but his shell. As easily might the tone of a delicate musical instrument be inferred from its case, as the tone of Mr. Tulkinghorn from his case. |
| 6924 |
And that is the way he gradually fell into job work at our place; and that is the most I know of him except that he was a quick hand, and a hand not sparing of night work, and that if you gave him out, say, five and forty folio on the Wednesday night, you would have it brought in on the Thursday morning. |
| 6925 |
He will get into some trouble or difficulty otherwise. Being here, I'll wait if you make haste, and then I can testify on his behalf, if it should ever be necessary, that all was fair and right. If you will hold the candle for Mr. Snagsby, my friend, he'll soon see whether there is anything to help you. |
| 6926 |
The potboy at the corner, who is a privileged amateur, as possessing official knowledge of life and having to deal with drunken men occasionally, exchanges confidential communications with the policeman and has the appearance of an impregnable youth, unassailable by truncheons and unconfinable in station houses. |
| 6927 |
The policeman considers him an imbecile civilian, a remnant of the barbarous watchmen times, but gives him admission as something that must be borne with until government shall abolish him. The sensation is heightened as the tidings spread from mouth to mouth that the beadle is on the ground and has gone in. |
| 6928 |
As many of the jury as can crowd together at the table sit there. The rest get among the spittoons and pipes or lean against the piano. Over the coroner's head is a small iron garland, the pendant handle of a bell, which rather gives the majesty of the court the appearance of going to be hanged presently. |
| 6929 |
Call over and swear the jury! While the ceremony is in progress, sensation is created by the entrance of a chubby little man in a large shirt collar, with a moist eye and an inflamed nose, who modestly takes a position near the door as one of the general public, but seems familiar with the room too. |
| 6930 |
No other witness. Very well, gentlemen! Here's a man unknown, proved to have been in the habit of taking opium in large quantities for a year and a half, found dead of too much opium. If you think you have any evidence to lead you to the conclusion that he committed suicide, you will come to that conclusion. |
| 6931 |
Good afternoon. While the coroner buttons his great coat, Mr. Tulkinghorn and he give private audience to the rejected witness in a corner. That graceless creature only knows that the dead man (whom he recognized just now by his yellow face and black hair) was sometimes hooted and pursued about the streets. |
| 6932 |
That one cold winter night when he, the boy, was shivering in a doorway near his crossing, the man turned to look at him, and came back, and having questioned him and found that he had not a friend in the world, said, "Neither have I. Not one!" and gave him the price of a supper and a night's lodging. |
| 6933 |
It looks in at the windows and touches the ancestral portraits with bars and patches of brightness never contemplated by the painters. Athwart the picture of my Lady, over the great chimneypiece, it throws a broad bend sinister of light that strikes down crookedly into the hearth and seems to rend it. |
| 6934 |
Through the same cold sunlight, colder as the day declines, and through the same sharp wind, sharper as the separate shadows of bare trees gloom together in the woods, and as the Ghost's Walk, touched at the western corner by a pile of fire in the sky, resigns itself to coming night, they drive into the park. |
| 6935 |
My Lady's maid is a Frenchwoman of two and thirty, from somewhere in the southern country about Avignon and Marseilles, a large eyed brown woman with black hair who would be handsome but for a certain feline mouth and general uncomfortable tightness of face, rendering the jaws too eager and the skull too prominent. |
| 6936 |
But is there dandyism in the brilliant and distinguished circle notwithstanding, dandyism of a more mischievous sort, that has got below the surface and is doing less harmless things than jacktowelling itself and stopping its own digestion, to which no rational person need particularly object? Why, yes. |
| 6937 |
There are also ladies and gentlemen of another fashion, not so new, but very elegant, who have agreed to put a smooth glaze on the world and to keep down all its realities. For whom everything must be languid and pretty. Who have found out the perpetual stoppage. Who are to rejoice at nothing and be sorry for nothing. |
| 6938 |
Who are not to be disturbed by ideas. On whom even the fine arts, attending in powder and walking backward like the Lord Chamberlain, must array themselves in the milliners' and tailors' patterns of past generations and be particularly careful not to be in earnest or to receive any impress from the moving age. |
| 6939 |
In this, too, there is perhaps more dandyism at Chesney Wold than the brilliant and distinguished circle will find good for itself in the long run. For it is, even with the stillest and politest circles, as with the circle the necromancer draws around him very strange appearances may be seen in active motion outside. |
| 6940 |
Chesney Wold is quite full anyhow, so full that a burning sense of injury arises in the breasts of ill lodged ladies' maids, and is not to be extinguished. Only one room is empty. It is a turret chamber of the third order of merit, plainly but comfortably furnished and having an old fashioned business air. |
| 6941 |
She passes close to him, with her usual fatigued manner and insolent grace. They meet again at dinner again, next day again, for many days in succession. Lady Dedlock is always the same exhausted deity, surrounded by worshippers, and terribly liable to be bored to death, even while presiding at her own shrine. |
| 6942 |
But whether each evermore watches and suspects the other, evermore mistrustful of some great reservation; whether each is evermore prepared at all points for the other, and never to be taken unawares; what each would give to know how much the other knows all this is hidden, for the time, in their own hearts. |
| 6943 |
It has engendered or confirmed in him a habit of putting off and trusting to this, that, and the other chance, without knowing what chance and dismissing everything as unsettled, uncertain, and confused. The character of much older and steadier people may be even changed by the circumstances surrounding them. |
| 6944 |
Still, although I had no doubt that they were very beautiful, and very improving, and very sufficient for a great many purposes of life, and always remembered all through life, I did doubt whether Richard would not have profited by some one studying him a little, instead of his studying them quite so much. |
| 6945 |
I felt all through the performance that he never looked at the actors but constantly looked at me, and always with a carefully prepared expression of the deepest misery and the profoundest dejection. It quite spoiled my pleasure for that night because it was so very embarrassing and so very ridiculous. |
| 6946 |
If he were not there when we went in, and I began to hope he would not come and yielded myself for a little while to the interest of the scene, I was certain to encounter his languishing eyes when I least expected it and, from that time, to be quite sure that they were fixed upon me all the evening. |
| 6947 |
Mrs. Badger gave us in the drawing room a biographical sketch of the life and services of Captain Swosser before his marriage and a more minute account of him dating from the time when he fell in love with her at a ball on board the Crippler, given to the officers of that ship when she lay in Plymouth Harbour. |
| 6948 |
When she was no longer in commission, he frequently said that if he were rich enough to buy her old hulk, he would have an inscription let into the timbers of the quarterdeck where we stood as partners in the dance to mark the spot where he fell raked fore and aft (Captain Swosser used to say) by the fire from my tops. |
| 6949 |
He sat considering for a minute or two, with his smile, at once so handsome and so kind, upon his changing face, and then requested me to let them know that he wished to see them. When they came, he encircled Ada with one arm in his fatherly way and addressed himself to Richard with a cheerful gravity. |
| 6950 |
When I contemplated these relations between us four which have so brightened my life and so invested it with new interests and pleasures, I certainly did contemplate, afar off, the possibility of you and your pretty cousin here (don't be shy, Ada, don't be shy, my dear!) being in a mind to go through life together. |
| 6951 |
Never separate the two, like the heathen waggoner. Constancy in love is a good thing, but it means nothing, and is nothing, without constancy in every kind of effort. If you had the abilities of all the great men, past and present, you could do nothing well without sincerely meaning it and setting about it. |
| 6952 |
So young, so beautiful, so full of hope and promise, they went on lightly through the sunlight as their own happy thoughts might then be traversing the years to come and making them all years of brightness. So they passed away into the shadow and were gone. It was only a burst of light that had been so radiant. |
| 6953 |
Richard left us on the very next evening to begin his new career, and committed Ada to my charge with great love for her and great trust in me. It touched me then to reflect, and it touches me now, more nearly, to remember (having what I have to tell) how they both thought of me, even at that engrossing time. |
| 6954 |
I was to be informed, under his own hand, of all his labours and successes; I was to observe how resolute and persevering he would be; I was to be Ada's bridesmaid when they were married; I was to live with them afterwards; I was to keep all the keys of their house; I was to be made happy for ever and a day. |
| 6955 |
His little dancing shoes were particularly diminutive, and he had a little innocent, feminine manner which not only appealed to me in an amiable way, but made this singular effect upon me, that I received the impression that he was like his mother and that his mother had not been much considered or well used. |
| 6956 |
Prince Turveydrop then tinkled the strings of his kit with his fingers, and the young ladies stood up to dance. Just then there appeared from a side door old Mr. Turveydrop, in the full lustre of his deportment. He was a fat old gentleman with a false complexion, false teeth, false whiskers, and a wig. |
| 6957 |
He was pinched in, and swelled out, and got up, and strapped down, as much as he could possibly bear. He had such a neckcloth on (puffing his very eyes out of their natural shape), and his chin and even his ears so sunk into it, that it seemed as though he must inevitably double up if it were cast loose. |
| 6958 |
He had married a meek little dancing mistress, with a tolerable connexion (having never in his life before done anything but deport himself), and had worked her to death, or had, at the best, suffered her to work herself to death, to maintain him in those expenses which were indispensable to his position. |
| 6959 |
At once to exhibit his deportment to the best models and to keep the best models constantly before himself, he had found it necessary to frequent all public places of fashionable and lounging resort, to be seen at Brighton and elsewhere at fashionable times, and to lead an idle life in the very best clothes. |
| 6960 |
I felt a liking for him and a compassion for him as he put his little kit in his pocket and with it his desire to stay a little while with Caddy and went away good humouredly to his cold mutton and his school at Kensington, that made me scarcely less irate with his father than the censorious old lady. |
| 6961 |
The father opened the room door for us and bowed us out in a manner, I must acknowledge, worthy of his shining original. In the same style he presently passed us on the other side of the street, on his way to the aristocratic part of the town, where he was going to show himself among the few other gentlemen left. |
| 6962 |
There was a bill, pasted on the door post, announcing a room to let on the second floor. It reminded Caddy to tell me as we proceeded upstairs that there had been a sudden death there and an inquest and that our little friend had been ill of the fright. The door and window of the vacant room being open, we looked in. |
| 6963 |
If he went before, he looked back. When we stood still, he got opposite to him, and drawing his hand across and across his open mouth with a curious expression of a sense of power, and turning up his eyes, and lowering his grey eyebrows until they appeared to be shut, seemed to scan every lineament of his face. |
| 6964 |
Mr. Quale, who presented himself soon after our arrival, was in all such excitements. He seemed to project those two shining knobs of temples of his into everything that went on and to brush his hair farther and farther back, until the very roots were almost ready to fly out of his head in inappeasable philanthropy. |
| 6965 |
All objects were alike to him, but he was always particularly ready for anything in the way of a testimonial to any one. His great power seemed to be his power of indiscriminate admiration. He would sit for any length of time, with the utmost enjoyment, bathing his temples in the light of any order of luminary. |
| 6966 |
He appeared one morning in his usual agreeable way and as full of pleasant spirits as ever. Well, he said, here he was! He had been bilious, but rich men were often bilious, and therefore he had been persuading himself that he was a man of property. So he was, in a certain point of view in his expansive intentions. |
| 6967 |
Mr. Skimpole, who had quite forgotten the subject, looked up surprised. "The man was necessary," pursued my guardian, walking backward and forward in the very short space between the piano and the end of the room and rubbing his hair up from the back of his head as if a high east wind had blown it into that form. |
| 6968 |
In a poor room with a sloping ceiling and containing very little furniture was a mite of a boy, some five or six years old, nursing and hushing a heavy child of eighteen months. There was no fire, though the weather was cold; both children were wrapped in some poor shawls and tippets as a substitute. |
| 6969 |
It was the first time since our entry that a tear had been shed among these children. The little orphan girl had spoken of their father and their mother as if all that sorrow were subdued by the necessity of taking courage, and by her childish importance in being able to work, and by her bustling busy way. |
| 6970 |
As true as there is a heaven above us, this is my case. I am one of two brothers. My father (a farmer) made a will and left his farm and stock and so forth to my mother for her life. After my mother's death, all was to come to me except a legacy of three hundred pounds that I was then to pay my brother. |
| 6971 |
No one disputed the will; no one disputed anything but whether part of that three hundred pounds had been already paid or not. To settle that question, my brother filing a bill, I was obliged to go into this accursed Chancery; I was forced there because the law forced me and would let me go nowhere else. |
| 6972 |
My whole estate, left to me in that will of my father's, has gone in costs. The suit, still undecided, has fallen into rack, and ruin, and despair, with everything else and here I stand, this day! Now, Mr. Jarndyce, in your suit there are thousands and thousands involved, where in mine there are hundreds. |
| 6973 |
I have been in prison for threatening the solicitor. I have been in this trouble, and that trouble, and shall be again. I am the man from Shropshire, and I sometimes go beyond amusing them, though they have found it amusing, too, to see me committed into custody and brought up in custody and all that. |
| 6974 |
The astonished fashionable intelligence hardly knows where to have her. To day she is at Chesney Wold; yesterday she was at her house in town; tomorrow she may be abroad, for anything the fashionable intelligence can with confidence predict. Even Sir Leicester's gallantry has some trouble to keep pace with her. |
| 6975 |
Inside, his forefathers, looking on him from the walls, say, "Each of us was a passing reality here and left this coloured shadow of himself and melted into remembrance as dreamy as the distant voices of the rooks now lulling you to rest," and hear their testimony to his greatness too. And he is very great this day. |
| 6976 |
My Lady is at present represented, near Sir Leicester, by her portrait. She has flitted away to town, with no intention of remaining there, and will soon flit hither again, to the confusion of the fashionable intelligence. The house in town is not prepared for her reception. It is muffled and dreary. |
| 6977 |
It is a black, dilapidated street, avoided by all decent people, where the crazy houses were seized upon, when their decay was far advanced, by some bold vagrants who after establishing their own possession took to letting them out in lodgings. Now, these tumbling tenements contain, by night, a swarm of misery. |
| 6978 |
He admires the size of the edifice and wonders what it's all about. He has no idea, poor wretch, of the spiritual destitution of a coral reef in the Pacific or what it costs to look up the precious souls among the coco nuts and bread fruit. He goes to his crossing and begins to lay it out for the day. |
| 6979 |
Jo and the other lower animals get on in the unintelligible mess as they can. It is market day. The blinded oxen, over goaded, over driven, never guided, run into wrong places and are beaten out, and plunge redeyed and foaming at stone walls, and often sorely hurt the innocent, and often sorely hurt themselves. |
| 6980 |
Jo fights it out at his crossing among the mud and wheels, the horses, whips, and umbrellas, and gets but a scanty sum to pay for the unsavoury shelter of Tom all Alone's. Twilight comes on; gas begins to start up in the shops; the lamplighter, with his ladder, runs along the margin of the pavement. |
| 6981 |
What would it be to see a woman going by, even though she were going secretly? They are all secret. Mr. Tulkinghorn knows that very well. But they are not all like the woman who now leaves him and his house behind, between whose plain dress and her refined manner there is something exceedingly inconsistent. |
| 6982 |
Her face is veiled, and still she sufficiently betrays herself to make more than one of those who pass her look round sharply. She never turns her head. Lady or servant, she has a purpose in her and can follow it. She never turns her head until she comes to the crossing where Jo plies with his broom. |
| 6983 |
His job done, he sets off for Tom all Alone's, stopping in the light of innumerable gas lamps to produce the piece of gold and give it another one sided bite as a reassurance of its being genuine. The Mercury in powder is in no want of society to night, for my Lady goes to a grand dinner and three or four balls. |
| 6984 |
They were good qualities, without which no high place can be meritoriously won, but like fire and water, though excellent servants, they were very bad masters. If they had been under Richard's direction, they would have been his friends; but Richard being under their direction, they became his enemies. |
| 6985 |
These were my thoughts about Richard. I thought I often observed besides how right my guardian was in what he had said, and that the uncertainties and delays of the Chancery suit had imparted to his nature something of the careless spirit of a gamester who felt that he was part of a great gaming system. |
| 6986 |
So I thought it a good opportunity to hint to Richard that if he were sometimes a little careless of himself, I was very sure he never meant to be careless of Ada, and that it was a part of his affectionate consideration for her not to slight the importance of a step that might influence both their lives. |
| 6987 |
I fancied she was dreaming of him when I kissed her cheek after she had slept an hour and saw how tranquil and happy she looked. For I was so little inclined to sleep myself that night that I sat up working. It would not be worth mentioning for its own sake, but I was wakeful and rather low spirited. |
| 6988 |
I soon found myself very busy. But I had left some silk downstairs in a work table drawer in the temporary growlery, and coming to a stop for want of it, I took my candle and went softly down to get it. To my great surprise, on going in I found my guardian still there, and sitting looking at the ashes. |
| 6989 |
The lady said, of her own accord and not of his seeking, that her name was an assumed one. That she was, if there were any ties of blood in such a case, the child's aunt. That more than this she would never (and he was well persuaded of the steadfastness of her resolution) for any human consideration disclose. |
| 6990 |
He was seven years older than I. Not that I need mention it, for it hardly seems to belong to anything. I think I mean, he told us that he had been in practice three or four years and that if he could have hoped to contend through three or four more, he would not have made the voyage on which he was bound. |
| 6991 |
He had been to see us several times altogether. We thought it a pity he should go away. Because he was distinguished in his art among those who knew it best, and some of the greatest men belonging to it had a high opinion of him. When he came to bid us good bye, he brought his mother with him for the first time. |
| 6992 |
Mr. Woodcourt seemed a little distressed by her prolixity, but he was too considerate to let her see it and contrived delicately to bring the conversation round to making his acknowledgments to my guardian for his hospitality and for the very happy hours he called them the very happy hours he had passed with us. |
| 6993 |
It wasn't a bad profession; he couldn't assert that he disliked it; perhaps he liked it as well as he liked any other suppose he gave it one more chance! Upon that, he shut himself up for a few weeks with some books and some bones and seemed to acquire a considerable fund of information with great rapidity. |
| 6994 |
His fervour, after lasting about a month, began to cool, and when it was quite cooled, began to grow warm again. His vacillations between law and medicine lasted so long that midsummer arrived before he finally separated from Mr. Badger and entered on an experimental course of Messrs. Kenge and Carboy. |
| 6995 |
We made a pleasant journey down into Lincolnshire by the coach and had an entertaining companion in Mr. Skimpole. His furniture had been all cleared off, it appeared, by the person who took possession of it on his blue eyed daughter's birthday, but he seemed quite relieved to think that it was gone. |
| 6996 |
So when the coachman came round for his fee, he pleasantly asked him what he considered a very good fee indeed, now a liberal one and on his replying half a crown for a single passenger, said it was little enough too, all things considered, and left Mr. Jarndyce to give it him. It was delightful weather. |
| 6997 |
The house, with gable and chimney, and tower, and turret, and dark doorway, and broad terrace walk, twining among the balustrades of which, and lying heaped upon the vases, there was one great flush of roses, seemed scarcely real in its light solidity and in the serene and peaceful hush that rested on all around it. |
| 6998 |
To Ada and to me, that above all appeared the pervading influence. On everything, house, garden, terrace, green slopes, water, old oaks, fern, moss, woods again, and far away across the openings in the prospect to the distance lying wide before us with a purple bloom upon it, there seemed to be such undisturbed repose. |
| 6999 |
The old lime tree walk was like green cloisters, the very shadows of the cherry trees and apple trees were heavy with fruit, the gooseberry bushes were so laden that their branches arched and rested on the earth, the strawberries and raspberries grew in like profusion, and the peaches basked by the hundred on the wall. |
| 7000 |
The weather had been all the week extremely sultry, but the storm broke so suddenly upon us, at least, in that sheltered spot that before we reached the outskirts of the wood the thunder and lightning were frequent and the rain came plunging through the leaves as if every drop were a great leaden bead. |
| 7001 |
Again, in a moment, there arose before my mind innumerable pictures of myself. Lady Dedlock had taken shelter in the lodge before our arrival there and had come out of the gloom within. She stood behind my chair with her hand upon it. I saw her with her hand close to my shoulder when I turned my head. |
| 7002 |
She remained perfectly still until the carriage had turned into the drive, and then, without the least discomposure of countenance, slipped off her shoes, left them on the ground, and walked deliberately in the same direction through the wettest of the wet grass. "Is that young woman mad?" said my guardian. |
| 7003 |
Peaceful as it had looked when we first saw it, it looked even more so now, with a diamond spray glittering all about it, a light wind blowing, the birds no longer hushed but singing strongly, everything refreshed by the late rain, and the little carriage shining at the doorway like a fairy carriage made of silver. |
| 7004 |
A crop of grass would grow in the chinks of the stone pavement outside Lincoln's Inn Hall, but that the ticket porters, who have nothing to do beyond sitting in the shade there, with their white aprons over their heads to keep the flies off, grub it up and eat it thoughtfully. There is only one judge in town. |
| 7005 |
The bar of England is scattered over the face of the earth. How England can get on through four long summer months without its bar which is its acknowledged refuge in adversity and its only legitimate triumph in prosperity is beside the question; assuredly that shield and buckler of Britannia are not in present wear. |
| 7006 |
All the middle aged clerks think their families too large. All the unowned dogs who stray into the Inns of Court and pant about staircases and other dry places seeking water give short howls of aggravation. All the blind men's dogs in the streets draw their masters against pumps or trip them over buckets. |
| 7007 |
But this can only be received as a proof of their determination to persecute, since it must be within everybody's experience that the Chadband style of oratory is widely received and much admired. Mr. Chadband, however, having concluded for the present, sits down at Mr. Snagsby's table and lays about him prodigiously. |
| 7008 |
Mr. Guppy yielding his assent to this proposal, Jo is requested to follow into the drawing room doorway, where Mr. Guppy takes him in hand as a witness, patting him into this shape, that shape, and the other shape like a butterman dealing with so much butter, and worrying him according to the best models. |
| 7009 |
Nor is the examination unlike many such model displays, both in respect of its eliciting nothing and of its being lengthy, for Mr. Guppy is sensible of his talent, and Mrs. Snagsby feels not only that it gratifies her inquisitive disposition, but that it lifts her husband's establishment higher up in the law. |
| 7010 |
A human boy. O glorious to be a human boy! And why glorious, my young friend? Because you are capable of receiving the lessons of wisdom, because you are capable of profiting by this discourse which I now deliver for your good, because you are not a stick, or a staff, or a stock, or a stone, or a post, or a pillar. |
| 7011 |
Jo moves on, through the long vacation, down to Blackfriars Bridge, where he finds a baking stony corner wherein to settle to his repast. And there he sits, munching and gnawing, and looking up at the great cross on the summit of St. Paul's Cathedral, glittering above a red and violet tinted cloud of smoke. |
| 7012 |
He finds that nothing agrees with him so well as to make little gyrations on one leg of his stool, and stab his desk, and gape. Kenge and Carboy are out of town, and the articled clerk has taken out a shooting license and gone down to his father's, and Mr. Guppy's two fellow stipendiaries are away on leave. |
| 7013 |
So exceedingly that he with biting sarcasm informs his mother, in the confidential moments when he sups with her off a lobster and lettuce in the Old Street Road, that he is afraid the office is hardly good enough for swells, and that if he had known there was a swell coming, he would have got it painted. |
| 7014 |
Mr. Guppy suspects everybody who enters on the occupation of a stool in Kenge and Carboy's office of entertaining, as a matter of course, sinister designs upon him. He is clear that every such person wants to depose him. If he be ever asked how, why, when, or wherefore, he shuts up one eye and shakes his head. |
| 7015 |
He is a town made article, of small stature and weazen features, but may be perceived from a considerable distance by means of his very tall hat. To become a Guppy is the object of his ambition. He dresses at that gentleman (by whom he is patronized), talks at him, walks at him, founds himself entirely on him. |
| 7016 |
They know him there and defer to him. He has his favourite box, he bespeaks all the papers, he is down upon bald patriarchs, who keep them more than ten minutes afterwards. It is of no use trying him with anything less than a full sized "bread" or proposing to him any joint in cut unless it is in the very best cut. |
| 7017 |
Three pint pots of half and half are superadded. Quickly the waitress returns bearing what is apparently a model of the Tower of Babel but what is really a pile of plates and flat tin dish covers. Mr. Smallweed, approving of what is set before him, conveys intelligent benignity into his ancient eye and winks upon her. |
| 7018 |
The same phenomenon is visible on some parts of his coat, and particularly at the seams. He has the faded appearance of a gentleman in embarrassed circumstances; even his light whiskers droop with something of a shabby air. His appetite is so vigorous that it suggests spare living for some little time back. |
| 7019 |
I have lately become better acquainted with him through some accidental circumstances that have made me a visitor of his in private life. Those circumstances it is not necessary to offer in argument. They may or they may not have some reference to a subject which may or may not have cast its shadow on my existence. |
| 7020 |
Now, he must be precious old, you know, and he has not a soul about him, and he is reported to be immensely rich; and whether he is a smuggler, or a receiver, or an unlicensed pawnbroker, or a money lender all of which I have thought likely at different times it might pay you to knock up a sort of knowledge of him. |
| 7021 |
So he remains for a minute or two, heaped up against it, and then staggers down the shop to the front door. The air, the movement in the court, the lapse of time, or the combination of these things recovers him. He comes back pretty steadily, adjusting his fur cap on his head and looking keenly at them. |
| 7022 |
They then report progress to the eminent Smallweed, waiting at the office in his tall hat for that purpose, and separate, Mr. Guppy explaining that he would terminate his little entertainment by standing treat at the play but that there are chords in the human mind which would render it a hollow mockery. |
| 7023 |
In a rather ill favoured and ill savoured neighbourhood, though one of its rising grounds bears the name of Mount Pleasant, the Elfin Smallweed, christened Bartholomew and known on the domestic hearth as Bart, passes that limited portion of his time on which the office and its contingencies have no claim. |
| 7024 |
The excellent old gentleman being at these times a mere clothes bag with a black skull cap on the top of it, does not present a very animated appearance until he has undergone the two operations at the hands of his granddaughter of being shaken up like a great bottle and poked and punched like a great bolster. |
| 7025 |
Some indication of a neck being developed in him by these means, he and the sharer of his life's evening again fronting one another in their two porter's chairs, like a couple of sentinels long forgotten on their post by the Black Serjeant, Death. Judy the twin is worthy company for these associates. |
| 7026 |
She once or twice fell into children's company when she was about ten years old, but the children couldn't get on with Judy, and Judy couldn't get on with them. She seemed like an animal of another species, and there was instinctive repugnance on both sides. It is very doubtful whether Judy knows how to laugh. |
| 7027 |
His step too is measured and heavy and would go well with a weighty clash and jingle of spurs. He is close shaved now, but his mouth is set as if his upper lip had been for years familiar with a great moustache; and his manner of occasionally laying the open palm of his broad brown hand upon it is to the same effect. |
| 7028 |
He stops hard by Waterloo Bridge and reads a playbill, decides to go to Astley's Theatre. Being there, is much delighted with the horses and the feats of strength; looks at the weapons with a critical eye; disapproves of the combats as giving evidences of unskilful swordsmanship; but is touched home by the sentiments. |
| 7029 |
Not far off is the strong, rough, primitive table with a vice upon it at which he has been working. He is a little man with a face all crushed together, who appears, from a certain blue and speckled appearance that one of his cheeks presents, to have been blown up, in the way of business, at some odd time or times. |
| 7030 |
They enable Allegory, though it has cheeks like peaches, and knees like bunches of blossoms, and rosy swellings for calves to its legs and muscles to its arms, to look tolerably cool to night. Plenty of dust comes in at Mr. Tulkinghorn's windows, and plenty more has generated among his furniture and papers. |
| 7031 |
It lies thick everywhere. When a breeze from the country that has lost its way takes fright and makes a blind hurry to rush out again, it flings as much dust in the eyes of Allegory as the law or Mr. Tulkinghorn, one of its trustiest representatives may scatter, on occasion, in the eyes of the laity. |
| 7032 |
She's inquisitive. Poor little thing, she's liable to spasms, and it's good for her to have her mind employed. In consequence of which she employs it I should say upon every individual thing she can lay hold of, whether it concerns her or not especially not. My little woman has a very active mind, sir. |
| 7033 |
Between his two conductors, Mr. Snagsby passes along the middle of a villainous street, undrained, unventilated, deep in black mud and corrupt water though the roads are dry elsewhere and reeking with such smells and sights that he, who has lived in London all his life, can scarce believe his senses. |
| 7034 |
Whenever Mr. Snagsby and his conductors are stationary, the crowd flows round, and from its squalid depths obsequious advice heaves up to Mr. Bucket. Whenever they move, and the angry bull's eyes glare, it fades away and flits about them up the alleys, and in the ruins, and behind the walls, as before. |
| 7035 |
It is offensive to every sense; even the gross candle burns pale and sickly in the polluted air. There are a couple of benches and a higher bench by way of table. The men lie asleep where they stumbled down, but the women sit by the candle. Lying in the arms of the woman who has spoken is a very young child. |
| 7036 |
For a man so expert in most things of that kind, Bucket takes time to open the door and makes some noise too. It may be that he sounds a note of preparation. Howbeit, they come at last into the hall, where a lamp is burning, and so into Mr. Tulkinghorn's usual room the room where he drank his old wine to night. |
| 7037 |
I supposed she went away from the village, for I saw her no more; and nothing else occurred to disturb our tranquil summer pleasures until six weeks were out and we returned home as I began just now by saying. At that time, and for a good many weeks after that time, Richard was constant in his visits. |
| 7038 |
Besides coming every Saturday or Sunday and remaining with us until Monday morning, he sometimes rode out on horseback unexpectedly and passed the evening with us and rode back again early next day. He was as vivacious as ever and told us he was very industrious, but I was not easy in my mind about him. |
| 7039 |
You mustn't mind my being a little soft now, for I have had all this upon my mind for a long time, and have often meant to speak to you, and have sometimes wanted opportunity and sometimes courage. I know what the thought of Ada ought to do for me, but it doesn't do it. I am too unsettled even for that. |
| 7040 |
To all I said, Richard readily assented, riding over the court and everything else in his easy way and drawing the brightest pictures of the character he was to settle into alas, when the grievous suit should loose its hold upon him! We had a long talk, but it always came back to that, in substance. |
| 7041 |
They appeared to me to be quite beyond his comprehension, for when Caddy took me into the dining room by mistake and we came upon Mr. Jellyby in his spectacles, forlornly fenced into a corner by the great dining table and the two gentlemen, he seemed to have given up the whole thing and to be speechless and insensible. |
| 7042 |
And if there seemed to be but a slender chance of her and her husband ever finding out what the model of deportment really was, why that was all for the best too, and who would wish them to be wiser? I did not wish them to be any wiser and indeed was half ashamed of not entirely believing in him myself. |
| 7043 |
While they were thus employed, my guardian, though he underwent considerable inconvenience from the state of the wind and rubbed his head so constantly that not a single hair upon it ever rested in its right place, was as genial with Ada and me as at any other time, but maintained a steady reserve on these matters. |
| 7044 |
His name was entered at the Horse Guards as an applicant for an ensign's commission; the purchase money was deposited at an agent's; and Richard, in his usual characteristic way, plunged into a violent course of military study and got up at five o'clock every morning to practise the broadsword exercise. |
| 7045 |
Jarndyce and Jarndyce being again expected to come on that day, Richard proposed to me that we should go down to the court and hear what passed. As it was his last day, and he was eager to go, and I had never been there, I gave my consent and we walked down to Westminster, where the court was then sitting. |
| 7046 |
Miss Flite soon espied us and came to where we sat. She gave me a gracious welcome to her domain and indicated, with much gratification and pride, its principal attractions. Mr. Kenge also came to speak to us and did the honours of the place in much the same way, with the bland modesty of a proprietor. |
| 7047 |
Richard and I were making our way through it, and I was yet in the first chill of the late unexpected recognition when I saw, coming towards us, but not seeing us, no less a person than Mr. George. He made nothing of the people about him as he tramped on, staring over their heads into the body of the court. |
| 7048 |
As the screening was not more than eight or ten feet high and only enclosed the sides, not the top, the rafters of the high gallery roof were overhead, and the skylight through which Mr. Bucket had looked down. The sun was low near setting and its light came redly in above, without descending to the ground. |
| 7049 |
Upon a plain canvas covered sofa lay the man from Shropshire, dressed much as we had seen him last, but so changed that at first I recognized no likeness in his colourless face to what I recollected. He had been still writing in his hiding place, and still dwelling on his grievances, hour after hour. |
| 7050 |
His voice had faded, with the old expression of his face, with his strength, with his anger, with his resistance to the wrongs that had at last subdued him. The faintest shadow of an object full of form and colour is such a picture of it as he was of the man from Shropshire whom we had spoken with before. |
| 7051 |
Haven't I come into court, twenty afternoons for no other purpose than to see you pin the Chancellor like a bull dog? Don't you remember when you first began to threaten the lawyers, and the peace was sworn against you two or three times a week? Ask the little old lady there; she has been always present. |
| 7052 |
Even in the little front kitchen where the family meals are taken, it rattles away at a smoking pace from the dinner table, when Mr. Snagsby pauses in carving the first slice of the leg of mutton baked with potatoes and stares at the kitchen wall. Mr. Snagsby cannot make out what it is that he has had to do with. |
| 7053 |
I say to you that I will proclaim it to you, whether you like it or not; nay, that the less you like it, the more I will proclaim it to you. With a speaking trumpet! I say to you that if you rear yourself against it, you shall fall, you shall be bruised, you shall be battered, you shall be flawed, you shall be smashed. |
| 7054 |
But downstairs is the charitable Guster, holding by the handrail of the kitchen stairs and warding off a fit, as yet doubtfully, the same having been induced by Mrs. Snagsby's screaming. She has her own supper of bread and cheese to hand to Jo, with whom she ventures to interchange a word or so for the first time. |
| 7055 |
They arise, roll up and stow away their mattresses. Mr. George, having shaved himself before a looking glass of minute proportions, then marches out, bare headed and bare chested, to the pump in the little yard and anon comes back shining with yellow soap, friction, drifting rain, and exceedingly cold water. |
| 7056 |
At length the breakfast is ready. Phil announcing it, Mr. George knocks the ashes out of his pipe on the hob, stands his pipe itself in the chimney corner, and sits down to the meal. When he has helped himself, Phil follows suit, sitting at the extreme end of the little oblong table and taking his plate on his knees. |
| 7057 |
Master and man are at length disturbed by footsteps in the passage, where they make an unusual sound, denoting the arrival of unusual company. These steps, advancing nearer and nearer to the gallery, bring into it a group at first sight scarcely reconcilable with any day in the year but the fifth of November. |
| 7058 |
Clean, hardy, and so economically dressed (though substantially) that the only article of ornament of which she stands possessed appear's to be her wedding ring, around which her finger has grown to be so large since it was put on that it will never come off again until it shall mingle with Mrs. Bagnet's dust. |
| 7059 |
His voice, short, deep, and resonant, is not at all unlike the tones of the instrument to which he is devoted. Indeed there may be generally observed in him an unbending, unyielding, brass bound air, as if he were himself the bassoon of the human orchestra. Young Woolwich is the type and model of a young drummer. |
| 7060 |
Both father and son salute the trooper heartily. He saying, in due season, that he has come to advise with Mr. Bagnet, Mr. Bagnet hospitably declares that he will hear of no business until after dinner and that his friend shall not partake of his counsel without first partaking of boiled pork and greens. |
| 7061 |
But while he is stately in the cousinship of the Everybodys, he is a kind and generous man, according to his dignified way, in the cousinship of the Nobodys; and at the present time, in despite of the damp, he stays out the visit of several such cousins at Chesney Wold with the constancy of a martyr. |
| 7062 |
Miss Volumnia, displaying in early life a pretty talent for cutting ornaments out of coloured paper, and also for singing to the guitar in the Spanish tongue, and propounding French conundrums in country houses, passed the twenty years of her existence between twenty and forty in a sufficiently agreeable manner. |
| 7063 |
There is likewise the Honourable Bob Stables, who can make warm mashes with the skill of a veterinary surgeon and is a better shot than most gamekeepers. He has been for some time particularly desirous to serve his country in a post of good emoluments, unaccompanied by any trouble or responsibility. |
| 7064 |
Bedroom fires blaze brightly all over the house, raising ghosts of grim furniture on wall and ceiling. Bedroom candlesticks bristle on the distant table by the door, and cousins yawn on ottomans. Cousins at the piano, cousins at the soda water tray, cousins rising from the card table, cousins gathered round the fire. |
| 7065 |
Volumnia is away next day, and all the cousins are scattered before dinner. Not a cousin of the batch but is amazed to hear from Sir Leicester at breakfast time of the obliteration of landmarks, and opening of floodgates, and cracking of the framework of society, manifested through Mrs. Rouncewell's son. |
| 7066 |
He sees my Lady pretty often, too; and he and she are as composed, and as indifferent, and take as little heed of one another, as ever. Yet it may be that my Lady fears this Mr. Tulkinghorn and that he knows it. It may be that he pursues her doggedly and steadily, with no touch of compunction, remorse, or pity. |
| 7067 |
A lady started up, a disguised lady, your ladyship, who went to look at the scene of action and went to look at his grave. She hired a crossingsweeping boy to show it her. If your ladyship would wish to have the boy produced in corroboration of this statement, I can lay my hand upon him at any time. |
| 7068 |
No. Words, sobs, and cries are but air, and air is so shut in and shut out throughout the house in town that sounds need be uttered trumpet tongued indeed by my Lady in her chamber to carry any faint vibration to Sir Leicester's ears; and yet this cry is in the house, going upward from a wild figure on its knees. |
| 7069 |
I know it did. It made me for some part of that night uncomfortable. I was so ashamed of my folly that I did not like to confess it even to Ada, and that made me more uncomfortable still. I would have given anything not to have been so much in the bright old lady's confidence if I could have possibly declined it. |
| 7070 |
By degrees, old Mr. Turveydrop, thus familiarized with the idea of his son's marriage, had worked up his parental feelings to the height of contemplating that event as being near at hand and had given his gracious consent to the young couple commencing housekeeping at the academy in Newman Street when they would. |
| 7071 |
My guardian being as pleased with the idea as Caddy was, we took her home next day to arrange the matter and brought her out again in triumph with her boxes and all the purchases that could be squeezed out of a ten pound note, which Mr. Jellyby had found in the docks I suppose, but which he at all events gave her. |
| 7072 |
She was clumsy enough with her needle, poor girl, and pricked her fingers as much as she had been used to ink them. She could not help reddening a little now and then, partly with the smart and partly with vexation at being able to do no better, but she soon got over that and began to improve rapidly. |
| 7073 |
You would have supposed that I was showing her some wonderful inventions, by her study of them; and if you had seen her, whenever I jingled my housekeeping keys, get up and attend me, certainly you might have thought that there never was a greater imposter than I with a blinder follower than Caddy Jellyby. |
| 7074 |
Such a mean mission as the domestic mission was the very last thing to be endured among them; indeed, Miss Wisk informed us, with great indignation, before we sat down to breakfast, that the idea of woman's mission lying chiefly in the narrow sphere of home was an outrageous slander on the part of her tyrant, man. |
| 7075 |
The sky had partly cleared, but was very gloomy even above us, where a few stars were shining. In the north and north west, where the sun had set three hours before, there was a pale dead light both beautiful and awful; and into it long sullen lines of cloud waved up like a sea stricken immovable as it was heaving. |
| 7076 |
Towards London a lurid glare overhung the whole dark waste, and the contrast between these two lights, and the fancy which the redder light engendered of an unearthly fire, gleaming on all the unseen buildings of the city and on all the faces of its many thousands of wondering inhabitants, was as solemn as might be. |
| 7077 |
We came to the cottage, where there was a feeble candle in the patched window. We tapped at the door and went in. The mother of the little child who had died was sitting in a chair on one side of the poor fire by the bed; and opposite to her, a wretched boy, supported by the chimney piece, was cowering on the floor. |
| 7078 |
I had not lifted my veil when I first spoke to the woman, which was at the moment of our going in. The boy staggered up instantly and stared at me with a remarkable expression of surprise and terror. His action was so quick and my being the cause of it was so evident that I stood still instead of advancing nearer. |
| 7079 |
Charley, who knew what to do much better than I did, and whose quickness equalled her presence of mind, glided on before me, and presently we came up with Jo, just short of the brick kiln. I think he must have begun his journey with some small bundle under his arm and must have had it stolen or lost it. |
| 7080 |
For he still carried his wretched fragment of fur cap like a bundle, though he went bare headed through the rain, which now fell fast. He stopped when we called to him and again showed a dread of me when I came up, standing with his lustrous eyes fixed upon me, and even arrested in his shivering fit. |
| 7081 |
But he turned and followed when I beckoned to him, and finding that he acknowledged that influence in me, I led the way straight home. It was not far, only at the summit of the hill. We passed but one man. I doubted if we should have got home without assistance, the boy's steps were so uncertain and tremulous. |
| 7082 |
There was more movement and more talking than usual a little before daybreak, and it awoke me. As I was dressing, I looked out of my window and asked one of our men who had been among the active sympathizers last night whether there was anything wrong about the house. The lantern was still burning in the loft window. |
| 7083 |
The brick kilns were examined, the cottages were visited, the two women were particularly questioned, but they knew nothing of him, and nobody could doubt that their wonder was genuine. The weather had for some time been too wet and the night itself had been too wet to admit of any tracing by footsteps. |
| 7084 |
I do not mean that it ceased even then, but that my attention was then diverted into a current very memorable to me. As Charley was at her writing again in my room in the evening, and as I sat opposite to her at work, I felt the table tremble. Looking up, I saw my little maid shivering from head to foot. |
| 7085 |
There was not a servant in or about the house but was so good that they would all most gladly have come to me at any hour of the day or night without the least fear or unwillingness, but I thought it best to choose one worthy woman who was never to see Ada and whom I could trust to come and go with all precaution. |
| 7086 |
But of all the various times there were in Charley's illness, there was not one when she lost the gentle qualities I have spoken of. And there were many, many when I thought in the night of the last high belief in the watching angel, and the last higher trust in God, on the part of her poor despised father. |
| 7087 |
I had been able easily to hide what I felt at tea time, but I was past that already now, and I knew that I was rapidly following in Charley's steps. I was well enough, however, to be up early in the morning, and to return my darling's cheerful blessing from the garden, and to talk with her as long as usual. |
| 7088 |
Over which bee like industry these benefactors of their species linger yet, though office hours be past, that they may give, for every day, some good account at last. In the neighbouring court, where the Lord Chancellor of the rag and bottle shop dwells, there is a general tendency towards beer and supper. |
| 7089 |
Now, too, the policeman begins to push at doors; to try fastenings; to be suspicious of bundles; and to administer his beat, on the hypothesis that every one is either robbing or being robbed. It is a close night, though the damp cold is searching too, and there is a laggard mist a little way up in the air. |
| 7090 |
How can I know without seeing them, when he don't know himself? He is always spelling out words from them, and chalking them over the table and the shop wall, and asking what this is and what that is; but his whole stock from beginning to end may easily be the waste paper he bought it as, for anything I can say. |
| 7091 |
There is a very little fire left in the grate, but there is a smouldering, suffocating vapour in the room and a dark, greasy coating on the walls and ceiling. The chairs and table, and the bottle so rarely absent from the table, all stand as usual. On one chair back hang the old man's hairy cap and coat. |
| 7092 |
All this and a great deal more the two gentlemen who have formed an amicable partnership in the melancholy catastrophe write down on the spot; and the boy population of the court (out of bed in a moment) swarm up the shutters of the Sol's Arms parlour, to behold the tops of their heads while they are about it. |
| 7093 |
Not that he has any suspicions, but that he may as well know what they are up to in there. Thus night pursues its leaden course, finding the court still out of bed through the unwonted hours, still treating and being treated, still conducting itself similarly to a court that has had a little money left it unexpectedly. |
| 7094 |
In all these proceedings Mr. Guppy has so slight a part, except when he gives his evidence, that he is moved on like a private individual and can only haunt the secret house on the outside, where he has the mortification of seeing Mr. Smallweed padlocking the door, and of bitterly knowing himself to be shut out. |
| 7095 |
Mercury replies that she is going out to dinner; don't he see the carriage at the door? Yes, he does see the carriage at the door; but he wants to see my Lady too. Mercury is disposed, as he will presently declare to a fellowgentleman in waiting, "to pitch into the young man"; but his instructions are positive. |
| 7096 |
Therefore he sulkily supposes that the young man must come up into the library. There he leaves the young man in a large room, not over light, while he makes report of him. Mr. Guppy looks into the shade in all directions, discovering everywhere a certain charred and whitened little heap of coal or wood. |
| 7097 |
As she looks at him so steadily and coldly, he not only feels conscious that he has no guide in the least perception of what is really the complexion of her thoughts, but also that he is being every moment, as it were, removed further and further from her. She will not speak, it is plain. So he must. |
| 7098 |
And that old man, coming with his quiet footstep to the library, has his hand at that moment on the handle of the door comes in and comes face to face with the young man as he is leaving the room. One glance between the old man and the lady, and for an instant the blind that is always down flies up. |
| 7099 |
Without her marketbasket, which is a sort of wicker well with two flapping lids, she never stirs abroad. Attended by these her trusty companions, therefore, her honest sunburnt face looking cheerily out of a rough straw bonnet, Mrs. Bagnet now arrives, fresh coloured and bright, in George's Shooting Gallery. |
| 7100 |
But what's done can't be undone. You are always an honourable and straightforward fellow, as far as lays in your power, though a little flighty. On the other hand, you can't admit but what it's natural in us to be anxious with such a thing hanging over our heads. So forget and forgive all round, George. |
| 7101 |
She comes out of the sanctuary with a fair old fashioned curtsy and softly shuts the door. She is treated with some distinction there, for the clerk steps out of his pew to show her through the outer office and to let her out. The old lady is thanking him for his attention when she observes the comrades in waiting. |
| 7102 |
My housekeeping duties, though at first it caused me great anxiety to think that they were unperformed, were soon as far off as the oldest of the old duties at Greenleaf or the summer afternoons when I went home from school with my portfolio under my arm, and my childish shadow at my side, to my godmother's house. |
| 7103 |
The repose that succeeded, the long delicious sleep, the blissful rest, when in my weakness I was too calm to have any care for myself and could have heard (or so I think now) that I was dying, with no other emotion than with a pitying love for those I left behind this state can be perhaps more widely understood. |
| 7104 |
I could see my little maid, so tender and so careful, going about the two rooms setting everything in order and speaking cheerfully to Ada from the open window again. I could understand the stillness in the house and the thoughtfulness it expressed on the part of all those who had always been so good to me. |
| 7105 |
The truth is, he wrote to me under a sort of protest while unable to write to you with any hope of an answer wrote coldly, haughtily, distantly, resentfully. Well, dearest little woman, we must look forbearingly on it. He is not to blame. Jarndyce and Jarndyce has warped him out of himself and perverted me in his eyes. |
| 7106 |
I would rather restore to poor Rick his proper nature than be endowed with all the money that dead suitors, broken, heart and soul, upon the wheel of Chancery, have left unclaimed with the Accountant General and that's money enough, my dear, to be cast into a pyramid, in memory of Chancery's transcendent wickedness. |
| 7107 |
He looks to it, flushed and fitfully, to do something with his interests and bring them to some settlement. It procrastinates, disappoints, tries, tortures him; wears out his sanguine hopes and patience, thread by thread; but he still looks to it, and hankers after it, and finds his whole world treacherous and hollow. |
| 7108 |
We did not appreciate the writer the less for laughing heartily over it, and we settled that I should send him a letter of thanks on the morrow and accept his offer. It was a most agreeable one to me, for all the places I could have thought of, I should have liked to go to none so well as Chesney Wold. |
| 7109 |
I could not tell him heartily enough how ready I was to receive her. I had always pitied her, never so much as now. I had always been glad of my little power to soothe her under her calamity, but never, never, half so glad before. We arranged a time for Miss Flite to come out by the coach and share my early dinner. |
| 7110 |
When we had finished and had our little dessert before us, embellished by the hands of my dear, who would yield the superintendence of everything prepared for me to no one, Miss Flite was so very chatty and happy that I thought I would lead her to her own history, as she was always pleased to talk about herself. |
| 7111 |
Saved many lives, never complained in hunger and thirst, wrapped naked people in his spare clothes, took the lead, showed them what to do, governed them, tended the sick, buried the dead, and brought the poor survivors safely off at last! My dear, the poor emaciated creatures all but worshipped him. |
| 7112 |
My poor little visitor made me a present of the account, and when as the evening began to close in she rose to take her leave, lest she should miss the coach by which she was to return, she was still full of the shipwreck, which I had not yet sufficiently composed myself to understand in all its details. |
| 7113 |
Then I put my hair aside and looked at the reflection in the mirror, encouraged by seeing how placidly it looked at me. I was very much changed oh, very, very much. At first my face was so strange to me that I think I should have put my hands before it and started back but for the encouragement I have mentioned. |
| 7114 |
Then there was a pony expressly for my riding, a chubby pony with a short neck and a mane all over his eyes who could canter when he would so easily and quietly that he was a treasure. In a very few days he would come to me in the paddock when I called him, and eat out of my hand, and follow me about. |
| 7115 |
Thus, what with being so much in the air, playing with so many children, gossiping with so many people, sitting on invitation in so many cottages, going on with Charley's education, and writing long letters to Ada every day, I had scarcely any time to think about that little loss of mine and was almost always cheerful. |
| 7116 |
I told her or I tried to tell her that if it were for me, her child, under any circumstances to take upon me to forgive her, I did it, and had done it, many, many years. I told her that my heart overflowed with love for her, that it was natural love which nothing in the past had changed or could change. |
| 7117 |
She said, no, no, no, she could only speak to me so; she must be proud and disdainful everywhere else; she would be humbled and ashamed there, in the only natural moments of her life. My unhappy mother told me that in my illness she had been nearly frantic. She had but then known that her child was living. |
| 7118 |
She had put herself beyond all hope and beyond all help. Whether she preserved her secret until death or it came to be discovered and she brought dishonour and disgrace upon the name she had taken, it was her solitary struggle always; and no affection could come near her, and no human creature could render her any aid. |
| 7119 |
Her elder and only sister, the godmother of my childhood, discovering signs of life in me when I had been laid aside as dead, had in her stern sense of duty, with no desire or willingness that I should live, reared me in rigid secrecy and had never again beheld my mother's face from within a few hours of my birth. |
| 7120 |
What more the letter told me needs not to be repeated here. It has its own times and places in my story. My first care was to burn what my mother had written and to consume even its ashes. I hope it may not appear very unnatural or bad in me that I then became heavily sorrowful to think I had ever been reared. |
| 7121 |
That I had a terror of myself as the danger and the possible disgrace of my own mother and of a proud family name. That I was so confused and shaken as to be possessed by a belief that it was right and had been intended that I should die in my birth, and that it was wrong and not intended that I should be then alive. |
| 7122 |
I went out alone, and after walking a little in the park, watching the dark shades falling on the trees and the fitful flight of the bats, which sometimes almost touched me, was attracted to the house for the first time. Perhaps I might not have gone near it if I had been in a stronger frame of mind. |
| 7123 |
I knew I was as innocent of my birth as a queen of hers and that before my Heavenly Father I should not be punished for birth nor a queen rewarded for it. I had had experience, in the shock of that very day, that I could, even thus soon, find comforting reconcilements to the change that had fallen on me. |
| 7124 |
Might she not look for her old Esther and not find her? Might she not have to grow used to me and to begin all over again? I knew the various expressions of my sweet girl's face so well, and it was such an honest face in its loveliness, that I was sure beforehand she could not hide that first look from me. |
| 7125 |
Oh, how happy I was, down upon the floor, with my sweet beautiful girl down upon the floor too, holding my scarred face to her lovely cheek, bathing it with tears and kisses, rocking me to and fro like a child, calling me by every tender name that she could think of, and pressing me to her faithful heart. |
| 7126 |
My pet had scarcely been there a bright week, as I recollect the time, when one evening after we had finished helping the gardener in watering his flowers, and just as the candles were lighted, Charley, appearing with a very important air behind Ada's chair, beckoned me mysteriously out of the room. |
| 7127 |
Not knowing what might be the matter, and being easily apprehensive now, I thought it best to go to this place by myself. I bade Charley be quick with my bonnet and veil and my shawl, and having put them on, went away down the little hilly street, where I was as much at home as in Mr. Boythorn's garden. |
| 7128 |
He answered, no, nobody. He had been to call upon the dear old infant so he called Mr. Skimpole and the dear old infant had told him where we were, and he had told the dear old infant he was bent on coming to see us, and the dear old infant had directly wanted to come too; and so he had brought him. |
| 7129 |
In old times the woods and solitudes were made joyous to the shepherd by the imaginary piping and dancing of Pan and the nymphs. This present shepherd, our pastoral Richard, brightens the dull Inns of Court by making Fortune and her train sport through them to the melodious notes of a judgment from the bench. |
| 7130 |
I have some fears, my dearest cousin, that it may be partly for my sake you are now laying up so much unhappiness for yourself and if for yourself, for me. In case this should be so, or in case you should entertain much thought of me in what you are doing, I most earnestly entreat and beg you to desist. |
| 7131 |
We have reason to know by this time that there is no good in it and no hope, that there is nothing to be got from it but sorrow. My dearest cousin, it is needless for me to say that you are quite free and that it is very likely you may find some one whom you will love much better than your first fancy. |
| 7132 |
We would fairly try, he said, who was right and who was wrong he would show us we should see! He was animated and glowing, as if Ada's tenderness had gratified him; but I could only hope, with a sigh, that the letter might have some stronger effect upon his mind on re perusal than it assuredly had then. |
| 7133 |
My health is not good (my digestion being much impaired), and if I had only myself to consider, I should take refuge in rural habits, especially as the cares of business have prevented me from ever coming much into contact with general society, and particularly with ladies' society, which I have most wished to mix in. |
| 7134 |
When our time came for returning to Bleak House again, we were punctual to the day and were received with an overpowering welcome. I was perfectly restored to health and strength, and finding my housekeeping keys laid ready for me in my room, rang myself in as if I had been a new year, with a merry little peal. |
| 7135 |
Caddy, who had not seen me since her wedding day, was so glad and so affectionate that I was half inclined to fear I should make her husband jealous. But he was, in his way, just as bad I mean as good; and in short it was the old story, and nobody would leave me any possibility of doing anything meritorious. |
| 7136 |
I encouraged her and praised her with all my heart. For I conscientiously believed, dancing master's wife though she was, and dancing mistress though in her limited ambition she aspired to be, she had struck out a natural, wholesome, loving course of industry and perseverance that was quite as good as a mission. |
| 7137 |
Therefore we three adjourned to the apprentices together, and I made one in the dance. The apprentices were the queerest little people. Besides the melancholy boy, who, I hoped, had not been made so by waltzing alone in the empty kitchen, there were two other boys and one dirty little limp girl in a gauzy dress. |
| 7138 |
He always played the tune. The affectation of the gauzy child, and her condescension to the boys, was a sight. And thus we danced an hour by the clock. When the practice was concluded, Caddy's husband made himself ready to go out of town to a school, and Caddy ran away to get ready to go out with me. |
| 7139 |
The two out door boys went upon the staircase to put on their half boots and pull the in door boy's hair, as I judged from the nature of his objections. Returning with their jackets buttoned and their pumps stuck in them, they then produced packets of cold bread and meat and bivouacked under a painted lyre on the wall. |
| 7140 |
Her close little sitting room was prepared for a visit, and there was a portrait of her son in it which, I had almost written here, was more like than life: it insisted upon him with such obstinacy, and was so determined not to let him off. Not only was the portrait there, but we found the original there too. |
| 7141 |
I presume that you founded that belief upon your general knowledge of my being an orphan girl, indebted for everything to the benevolence of Mr. Jarndyce. Now, the beginning and the end of what I have come to beg of you is, Mr. Guppy, that you will have the kindness to relinquish all idea of so serving me. |
| 7142 |
You could make no discovery in reference to me that would do me the least service or give me the least pleasure. I am acquainted with my personal history, and I have it in my power to assure you that you never can advance my welfare by such means. You may, perhaps, have abandoned this project a long time. |
| 7143 |
The place was last painted or whitewashed beyond the memory of man, and the two chimneys smoke, and there is a loose outer surface of soot everywhere, and the dull cracked windows in their heavy frames have but one piece of character in them, which is a determination to be always dirty and always shut unless coerced. |
| 7144 |
And he is making hay of the grass which is flesh, for his three daughters. And his father is dependent on him in the Vale of Taunton. The one great principle of the English law is to make business for itself. There is no other principle distinctly, certainly, and consistently maintained through all its narrow turnings. |
| 7145 |
Let them but once clearly perceive that its grand principle is to make business for itself at their expense, and surely they will cease to grumble. But not perceiving this quite plainly only seeing it by halves in a confused way the laity sometimes suffer in peace and pocket, with a bad grace, and DO grumble very much. |
| 7146 |
Never, with my consent. Alter this law, sir, and what will be the effect of your rash proceeding on a class of practitioners very worthily represented, allow me to say to you, by the opposite attorney in the case, Mr. Vholes? Sir, that class of practitioners would be swept from the face of the earth. |
| 7147 |
The client throws his hat and gloves upon the ground tosses them anywhere, without looking after them or caring where they go; flings himself into a chair, half sighing and half groaning; rests his aching head upon his hand and looks the portrait of young despair. "Again nothing done!" says Richard. |
| 7148 |
I should hope you gentlemen of the army may find many means of amusing yourselves if you give your minds to it. If you had asked me what I was to do during the vacation, I could have answered you more readily. I am to attend to your interests. I am to be found here, day by day, attending to your interests. |
| 7149 |
Those interests are now paramount in this office. My digestive functions, as you may have heard me mention, are not in a good state, and rest might improve them; but I shall not rest, sir, while I am your representative. Whenever you want me, you will find me here. Summon me anywhere, and I will come. |
| 7150 |
Told Kenge his grandfather's business was too much for the old gentleman and he could better himself by undertaking it. There had been a coolness between myself and Small on account of his being so close. But he said you and I began it, and as he had me there for we did I put our acquaintance on the old footing. |
| 7151 |
There is more litter and lumber in it than of old, and it is dirtier if possible; likewise, it is ghostly with traces of its dead inhabitant and even with his chalked writing on the wall. On the entrance of visitors, Mr. Smallweed and Judy simultaneously fold their arms and stop in their researches. |
| 7152 |
She went leaping and bounding and tearing about that night like a dragon, and got out on the house top, and roamed about up there for a fortnight, and then came tumbling down the chimney very thin. Did you ever see such a brute? Looks as if she knew all about it, don't she? Almost looks as if she was Krook. |
| 7153 |
So there is hope for the old ship yet. Doodle has found that he must throw himself upon the country, chiefly in the form of sovereigns and beer. In this metamorphosed state he is available in a good many places simultaneously and can throw himself upon a considerable portion of the country at one time. |
| 7154 |
All that prospect, which from the terrace looked so near, has moved solemnly away and changed not the first nor the last of beautiful things that look so near and will so change into a distant phantom. Light mists arise, and the dew falls, and all the sweet scents in the garden are heavy in the air. |
| 7155 |
And now the moon rises to separate them, and to glimmer here and there in horizontal lines behind their stems, and to make the avenue a pavement of light among high cathedral arches fantastically broken. Now the moon is high; and the great house, needing habitation more than ever, is like a body without life. |
| 7156 |
Thenceforth for some weeks backward and forward rush mysterious men with no names, who fly about all those particular parts of the country on which Doodle is at present throwing himself in an auriferous and malty shower, but who are merely persons of a restless disposition and never do anything anywhere. |
| 7157 |
Volumnia is a little dim, but she is of the true descent; and there are many who appreciate her sprightly conversation, her French conundrums so old as to have become in the cycles of time almost new again, the honour of taking the fair Dedlock in to dinner, or even the privilege of her hand in the dance. |
| 7158 |
My Lady turns her head inward for the moment, then looks out again as before. Volumnia is charmed to hear that her delight is come. He is so original, such a stolid creature, such an immense being for knowing all sorts of things and never telling them! Volumnia is persuaded that he must be a Freemason. |
| 7159 |
But that is not the present point. When Mr. Rouncewell's townsman heard of the disclosure, he no more allowed the girl to be patronized and honoured than he would have suffered her to be trodden underfoot before his eyes. Such was his pride, that he indignantly took her away, as if from reproach and disgrace. |
| 7160 |
He is sedately satisfied. Perhaps there is a rather increased sense of power upon him as he loosely grasps one of his veinous wrists with his other hand and holding it behind his back walks noiselessly up and down. There is a capacious writing table in the room on which is a pretty large accumulation of papers. |
| 7161 |
There he again walks slowly up and down in the same attitude, subsiding, if a man so cool may have any need to subside, from the story he has related downstairs. The time was once when men as knowing as Mr. Tulkinghorn would walk on turret tops in the starlight and look up into the sky to read their fortunes there. |
| 7162 |
As he paces the leads with his eyes most probably as high above his thoughts as they are high above the earth, he is suddenly stopped in passing the window by two eyes that meet his own. The ceiling of his room is rather low; and the upper part of the door, which is opposite the window, is of glass. |
| 7163 |
These eyes that meet his own are looking in through the glass from the corridor outside. He knows them well. The blood has not flushed into his face so suddenly and redly for many a long year as when he recognizes Lady Dedlock. He steps into the room, and she comes in too, closing both the doors behind her. |
| 7164 |
The same formal politeness, the same composed deference that might as well be defiance; the whole man the same dark, cold object, at the same distance, which nothing has ever diminished. "Is this true concerning the poor girl?" He slightly inclines and advances his head as not quite understanding the question. |
| 7165 |
Where are the digger and the spade, this peaceful night, destined to add the last great secret to the many secrets of the Tulkinghorn existence? Is the man born yet, is the spade wrought yet? Curious questions to consider, more curious perhaps not to consider, under the watching stars upon a summer night. |
| 7166 |
He might not be able to overcome that infatuation, even knowing what we know. I am putting an extreme case, but it might be so. If so, it were better that he knew nothing. Better for common sense, better for him, better for me. I must take all this into account, and it combines to render a decision very difficult. |
| 7167 |
And I would wish in conclusion to remind you, as a business precaution, in case it should be necessary to recall the fact in any communication with Sir Leicester, that throughout our interview I have expressly stated my sole consideration to be Sir Leicester's feelings and honour and the family reputation. |
| 7168 |
The lamplighter is skipping up and down his ladder on Mr. Tulkinghorn's side of the Fields when that high priest of noble mysteries arrives at his own dull court yard. He ascends the doorsteps and is gliding into the dusky hall when he encounters, on the top step, a bowing and propitiatory little man. |
| 7169 |
My dear girl was deeply grieved that he should do their kind cousin so much wrong, but she was so faithful to Richard that she could not bear to blame him even for that. My guardian was assured of it, and never coupled his name with a word of reproof. "Rick is mistaken, my dear," he would say to her. |
| 7170 |
If he were groping in the dark, he could not do better than do his utmost to clear away those clouds in which so much was confused and obscured. Suspicion and misunderstanding were the fault of the suit? Then let him work the suit out and come through it to his right mind. This was his unvarying reply. |
| 7171 |
Mr. Skimpole himself reclined upon the sofa in a dressing gown, drinking some fragrant coffee from an old china cup it was then about mid day and looking at a collection of wallflowers in the balcony. He was not in the least disconcerted by our appearance, but rose and received us in his usual airy manner. |
| 7172 |
Now I dare say her marrying another child, and having two more, was all wrong in point of political economy, but it was very agreeable. We had our little festivities on those occasions and exchanged social ideas. She brought her young husband home one day, and they and their young fledglings have their nest upstairs. |
| 7173 |
He took leave of his family with a tenderness as airy and graceful as any other aspect in which he showed himself and rode away with us in perfect harmony of mind. We had an opportunity of seeing through some open doors, as we went downstairs, that his own apartment was a palace to the rest of the house. |
| 7174 |
As to my guardian, the wind, which had threatened to become fixed in the east when we left Somers Town, veered completely round before we were a couple of miles from it. Whether of questionable childishness or not in any other matters, Mr. Skimpole had a child's enjoyment of change and bright weather. |
| 7175 |
I came to the time when I first saw my dear girl and was received into that sisterly affection which was the grace and beauty of my life. I recalled the first bright gleam of welcome which had shone out of those very windows upon our expectant faces on that cold bright night, and which had never paled. |
| 7176 |
It was so impressive in its love for me, and in the unselfish caution it gave me, and the consideration it showed for me in every word, that my eyes were too often blinded to read much at a time. But I read it through three times before I laid it down. I had thought beforehand that I knew its purport, and I did. |
| 7177 |
But he did not hint to me that when I had been better looking he had had this same proceeding in his thoughts and had refrained from it. That when my old face was gone from me, and I had no attractions, he could love me just as well as in my fairer days. That the discovery of my birth gave him no shock. |
| 7178 |
The dried remains of the flowers. It would be better not to keep them now. They had only been preserved in memory of something wholly past and gone, but it would be better not to keep them now. They were in a book, and it happened to be in the next room our sitting room, dividing Ada's chamber from mine. |
| 7179 |
I thought about her love for Richard, though, indeed, the flowers had nothing to do with that. Then I took them into my own room and burned them at the candle, and they were dust in an instant. On entering the breakfast room next morning, I found my guardian just as usual, quite as frank, as open, and free. |
| 7180 |
There being not the least constraint in his manner, there was none (or I think there was none) in mine. I was with him several times in the course of the morning, in and out, when there was no one there, and I thought it not unlikely that he might speak to me about the letter, but he did not say a word. |
| 7181 |
I have made some advances out of pocket to accommodate these unpleasantnesses, but I necessarily look to being repaid, for I do not pretend to be a man of capital, and I have a father to support in the Vale of Taunton, besides striving to realize some little independence for three dear girls at home. |
| 7182 |
Far from it. I merely come down here under the seal of confidence and mention it in order that everything may be openly carried on and that it may not be said afterwards that everything was not openly carried on. My wish is that everything should be openly carried on. I desire to leave a good name behind me. |
| 7183 |
But she was too true to Richard to say anything but words of pity and words of excuse, and in a more loving spirit still my dear devoted girl! she wrote him a long letter, of which I took charge. Charley was to be my travelling companion, though I am sure I wanted none and would willingly have left her at home. |
| 7184 |
She was surrounded by boats, and we said how glad the people on board of her must be to come ashore. Charley was curious, too, about the voyage, and about the heat in India, and the serpents and the tigers; and as she picked up such information much faster than grammar, I told her what I knew on those points. |
| 7185 |
I am just so near disgrace as that those who are put in authority over me (as the catechism goes) would far rather be without me than with me. And they are right. Apart from debts and duns and all such drawbacks, I am not fit even for this employment. I have no care, no mind, no heart, no soul, but for one thing. |
| 7186 |
Richard proposed that we all should go to London together; but Mr. Woodcourt, having to remain by his ship a little longer, could not join us. He dined with us, however, at an early hour, and became so much more like what he used to be that I was still more at peace to think I had been able to soften his regrets. |
| 7187 |
I understood him and waved mine in thanks. And in his last look as we drove away, I saw that he was very sorry for me. I was glad to see it. I felt for my old self as the dead may feel if they ever revisit these scenes. I was glad to be tenderly remembered, to be gently pitied, not to be quite forgotten. |
| 7188 |
But they are blotted out. The moon has eyed Tom with a dull cold stare, as admitting some puny emulation of herself in his desert region unfit for life and blasted by volcanic fires; but she has passed on and is gone. The blackest nightmare in the infernal stables grazes on Tom all Alone's, and Tom is fast asleep. |
| 7189 |
In the midst of which dust and noise there is but one thing perfectly clear, to wit, that Tom only may and can, or shall and will, be reclaimed according to somebody's theory but nobody's practice. And in the hopeful meantime, Tom goes to perdition head foremost in his old determined spirit. But he has his revenge. |
| 7190 |
On the banks of the stagnant channel of mud which is the main street of Tom all Alone's, nothing is to be seen but the crazy houses, shut up and silent. No waking creature save himself appears except in one direction, where he sees the solitary figure of a woman sitting on a door step. He walks that way. |
| 7191 |
Yes, something is! As he retraces his way to the point from which he descried the woman at a distance sitting on the step, he sees a ragged figure coming very cautiously along, crouching close to the soiled walls which the wretchedest figure might as well avoid and furtively thrusting a hand before it. |
| 7192 |
Clothes made for what purpose, or of what material, it would be impossible to say. They look, in colour and in substance, like a bundle of rank leaves of swampy growth that rotted long ago. Allan Woodcourt pauses to look after him and note all this, with a shadowy belief that he has seen the boy before. |
| 7193 |
At last the fugitive, hard pressed, takes to a narrow passage and a court which has no thoroughfare. Here, against a hoarding of decaying timber, he is brought to bay and tumbles down, lying gasping at his pursuer, who stands and gasps at him until the woman comes up. "Oh, you, Jo!" cries the woman. |
| 7194 |
At first he looks behind him often to assure himself that Jo is still really following. But look where he will, he still beholds him close to the opposite houses, making his way with his wary hand from brick to brick and from door to door, and often, as he creeps along, glancing over at him watchfully. |
| 7195 |
A breakfast stall at a street corner suggests the first thing to be done. He stops there, looks round, and beckons Jo. Jo crosses and comes halting and shuffling up, slowly scooping the knuckles of his right hand round and round in the hollowed palm of his left, kneading dirt with a natural pestle and mortar. |
| 7196 |
Jo slowly munches as he slowly tells it. When he has finished his story and his bread, they go on again. Intending to refer his difficulty in finding a temporary place of refuge for the boy to his old patient, zealous little Miss Flite, Allan leads the way to the court where he and Jo first foregathered. |
| 7197 |
He repairs to his lodgings to dress and breakfast, and then, without seeking rest, goes away to Mr. Jarndyce to communicate his discovery. With him Mr. Jarndyce returns alone, confidentially telling him that there are reasons for keeping this matter very quiet indeed and showing a serious interest in it. |
| 7198 |
Mr. Snagsby is behind his counter in his grey coat and sleeves, inspecting an indenture of several skins which has just come in from the engrosser's, an immense desert of law hand and parchment, with here and there a resting place of a few large letters to break the awful monotony and save the traveller from despair. |
| 7199 |
But it is better than he expected after all, being no explosion of the mine below him or deepening of the pit into which he has fallen. And being tender hearted and affected by the account he hears of Jo's condition, he readily engages to "look round" as early in the evening as he can manage it quietly. |
| 7200 |
He looks round very quietly when the evening comes, but it may turn out that Mrs. Snagsby is as quiet a manager as he. Jo is very glad to see his old friend and says, when they are left alone, that he takes it uncommon kind as Mr. Sangsby should come so far out of his way on accounts of sich as him. |
| 7201 |
The trooper stands in the doorway, still and silent. Phil has stopped in a low clinking noise, with his little hammer in his hand. Mr. Woodcourt looks round with that grave professional interest and attention on his face, and glancing significantly at the trooper, signs to Phil to carry his table out. |
| 7202 |
The fashionable world tremendous orb, nearly five miles round is in full swing, and the solar system works respectfully at its appointed distances. Where the throng is thickest, where the lights are brightest, where all the senses are ministered to with the greatest delicacy and refinement, Lady Dedlock is. |
| 7203 |
Though the belief she of old reposed in herself as one able to reserve whatsoever she would under her mantle of pride is beaten down, though she has no assurance that what she is to those around her she will remain another day, it is not in her nature when envious eyes are looking on to yield or to droop. |
| 7204 |
Of all women she is still the last who might be supposed to have any dread of him. One thing has been much on her mind since their late interview in his turret room at Chesney Wold. She is now decided, and prepared to throw it off. It is morning in the great world, afternoon according to the little sun. |
| 7205 |
My Lady sits in the room in which she gave audience to the young man of the name of Guppy. Rosa is with her and has been writing for her and reading to her. Rosa is now at work upon embroidery or some such pretty thing, and as she bends her head over it, my Lady watches her in silence. Not for the first time to day. |
| 7206 |
I cannot. There are reasons now known to me, reasons in which you have no part, rendering it far better for you that you should not remain here. You must not remain here. I have determined that you shall not. I have written to the father of your lover, and he will be here to day. All this I have done for your sake. |
| 7207 |
As indifferent as if all passion, feeling, and interest had been worn out in the earlier ages of the world and had perished from its surface with its other departed monsters. Mercury has announced Mr. Rouncewell, which is the cause of her appearance. Mr. Rouncewell is not in the library, but she repairs to the library. |
| 7208 |
It is a street of such dismal grandeur, so determined not to condescend to liveliness, that the doors and windows hold a gloomy state of their own in black paint and dust, and the echoing mews behind have a dry and massive appearance, as if they were reserved to stable the stone chargers of noble statues. |
| 7209 |
As to sparing the girl, of what importance or value is she? Spare! Lady Dedlock, here is a family name compromised. One might have supposed that the course was straight on over everything, neither to the right nor to the left, regardless of all considerations in the way, sparing nothing, treading everything under foot. |
| 7210 |
Lady Dedlock has eaten no dinner, but has twice or thrice poured out water with a steady hand and drunk it. She rises from table, takes a lounging chair, and reclines in it, shading her face. There is nothing in her manner to express weakness or excite compassion. It is thoughtful, gloomy, concentrated. |
| 7211 |
The large rooms are too cramped and close. She cannot endure their restraint and will walk alone in a neighbouring garden. Too capricious and imperious in all she does to be the cause of much surprise in those about her as to anything she does, this woman, loosely muffled, goes out into the moonlight. |
| 7212 |
The gate shuts upon its spring with a clash, and he leaves her passing on into the dark shade of some trees. A fine night, and a bright large moon, and multitudes of stars. Mr. Tulkinghorn, in repairing to his cellar and in opening and shutting those resounding doors, has to cross a little prison like yard. |
| 7213 |
Where was it? The few foot passengers start, stop, and stare about them. Some windows and doors are opened, and people come out to look. It was a loud report and echoed and rattled heavily. It shook one house, or so a man says who was passing. It has aroused all the dogs in the neighbourhood, who bark vehemently. |
| 7214 |
It must be something unusual indeed to bring him out of his shell. Nothing is heard of him, nothing is seen of him. What power of cannon might it take to shake that rusty old man out of his immovable composure? For many years the persistent Roman has been pointing, with no particular meaning, from that ceiling. |
| 7215 |
And either the Roman has some new meaning in him, not expressed before, or the foremost of them goes wild, for looking up at his outstretched hand and looking down at what is below it, that person shrieks and flies. The others, looking in as the first one looked, shriek and fly too, and there is an alarm in the street. |
| 7216 |
Mrs. Bagnet, by a coincidence never known to fail, replying fowls, Mr. Bagnet instantly produces his bundle from a place of concealment amidst general amazement and rejoicing. He further requires that the old girl shall do nothing all day long but sit in her very best gown and be served by himself and the young people. |
| 7217 |
But Mr. Bagnet, unconscious of these little defects, sets his heart on Mrs. Bagnet eating a most severe quantity of the delicacies before her; and as that good old girl would not cause him a moment's disappointment on any day, least of all on such a day, for any consideration, she imperils her digestion fearfully. |
| 7218 |
The same causes lead to confusion of tongues, a clattering of crockery, a rattling of tin mugs, a whisking of brooms, and an expenditure of water, all in excess, while the saturation of the young ladies themselves is almost too moving a spectacle for Mrs. Bagnet to look upon with the calmness proper to her position. |
| 7219 |
His was a bad case too, in a different way. Then the two got mixed up in a man's mind with a flinty old rascal who had to do with both. And to think of that rusty carbine, stock and barrel, standing up on end in his corner, hard, indifferent, taking everything so evenly it made flesh and blood tingle, I do assure you. |
| 7220 |
Mr. Bagnet becomes, after another pipe, so sensible of the value of his acquaintance that he solicits the honour of his company on the old girl's next birthday. If anything can more closely cement and consolidate the esteem which Mr. Bucket has formed for the family, it is the discovery of the nature of the occasion. |
| 7221 |
He drinks to Mrs. Bagnet with a warmth approaching to rapture, engages himself for that day twelvemonth more than thankfully, makes a memorandum of the day in a large black pocketbook with a girdle to it, and breathes a hope that Mrs. Bucket and Mrs. Bagnet may before then become, in a manner, sisters. |
| 7222 |
He is in his humble way a public man, but it is not in that sphere that he finds happiness. No, it must be sought within the confines of domestic bliss. It is natural, under these circumstances, that he, in his turn, should remember the friend to whom he is indebted for so promising an acquaintance. |
| 7223 |
Likewise you've been very often there. You've been seen hanging about the place, and you've been heard more than once in a wrangle with him, and it's possible I don't say it's certainly so, mind you, but it's possible that he may have been heard to call you a threatening, murdering, dangerous fellow. |
| 7224 |
Now although this was such a fancy of the affectionate girl's that I am almost ashamed to mention it, still it might have all the force of a fact when she was really ill. Therefore I set off to Caddy, with my guardian's consent, post haste; and she and Prince made so much of me that there never was anything like it. |
| 7225 |
If ever my darling were fonder of me at one time than another in all our intercourse, she was surely fondest of me that night. And I was so rejoiced to know it and so comforted by the sense of having done right in casting this last idle reservation away that I was ten times happier than I had been before. |
| 7226 |
We found our old lodging vacant, and in half an hour were quietly established there, as if we had never gone away. Mr. Woodcourt dined with us to celebrate my darling's birthday, and we were as pleasant as we could be with the great blank among us that Richard's absence naturally made on such an occasion. |
| 7227 |
And it seemed so curious that her pale face and helpless figure should be lying there day after day where dancing was the business of life, where the kit and the apprentices began early every morning in the ballroom, and where the untidy little boy waltzed by himself in the kitchen all the afternoon. |
| 7228 |
Then there was old Mr. Turveydrop, who was from morning to night and from night to morning the subject of innumerable precautions. If the baby cried, it was nearly stifled lest the noise should make him uncomfortable. If the fire wanted stirring in the night, it was surreptitiously done lest his rest should be broken. |
| 7229 |
But even this disinterestedness was attended with no inconsiderable cost, to my knowledge, for before Peepy was sufficiently decorated to walk hand in hand with the professor of deportment, he had to be newly dressed, at the expense of Caddy and her husband, from top to toe. Last of our visitors, there was Mr. Jellyby. |
| 7230 |
But I made it out, by putting them together, that Ada was not so frankly cheerful with me as she used to be. Her tenderness for me was as loving and true as ever; I did not for a moment doubt that; but there was a quiet sorrow about her which she did not confide to me, and in which I traced some hidden regret. |
| 7231 |
I was sitting in my usual place, which was now beside my guardian's chair. That had not been my usual place before the letter, but it was now. I looked up to Ada, who was sitting opposite, and I saw, as she looked at me, that her eyes were filled with tears and that tears were falling down her face. |
| 7232 |
How much less amiable I must have been than they thought me, how much less amiable than I thought myself, to be so preoccupied with my own cheerfulness and contentment as to think that it only rested with me to put my dear girl right and set her mind at peace! But I lay down, self deceived, in that belief. |
| 7233 |
You shall not shall not in my office, if I know it do yourself an injustice. You are interested in anything, and in everything, that relates to your friend. I know human nature much better, sir, than to admit for an instant that a gentleman of your appearance is not interested in whatever concerns his friend. |
| 7234 |
I have not intended to do much harm, but I seem to have been capable of nothing else. It may be that I should have done better by keeping out of the net into which my destiny has worked me, but I think not, though I dare say you will soon hear, if you have not already heard, a very different opinion. |
| 7235 |
We were soon equipped and went out. It was a sombre day, and drops of chill rain fell at intervals. It was one of those colourless days when everything looks heavy and harsh. The houses frowned at us, the dust rose at us, the smoke swooped at us, nothing made any compromise about itself or wore a softened aspect. |
| 7236 |
I say indelibly, for I felt persuaded that if the fatal cause could have been for ever terminated, according to his brightest visions, in that same hour, the traces of the premature anxiety, self reproach, and disappointment it had occasioned him would have remained upon his features to the hour of his death. |
| 7237 |
I never had experienced such painful and pleasurable emotion at one time, and in my own heart I did not know which predominated. But I was not there to darken their way; I did not do that. When I was less foolish and more composed, my darling took her wedding ring from her bosom, and kissed it, and put it on. |
| 7238 |
So I said (in a merry, bustling manner) that unless they gave me some encouragement to come back, I was not sure that I could take that liberty, upon which my dear girl looked up, faintly smiling through her tears, and I folded her lovely face between my hands, and gave it one last kiss, and laughed, and ran away. |
| 7239 |
I came to myself by and by, after a little scolding, and took a coach home. The poor boy whom I had found at St. Albans had reappeared a short time before and was lying at the point of death; indeed, was then dead, though I did not know it. My guardian had gone out to inquire about him and did not return to dinner. |
| 7240 |
It was dark when we came to the new strange home of my dear girl, and there was a light behind the yellow blinds. We walked past cautiously three or four times, looking up, and narrowly missed encountering Mr. Vholes, who came out of his office while we were there and turned his head to look up too before going home. |
| 7241 |
I listened for a few moments, and in the musty rotting silence of the house believed that I could hear the murmur of their young voices. I put my lips to the hearse like panel of the door as a kiss for my dear and came quietly down again, thinking that one of these days I would confess to the visit. |
| 7242 |
And it really did me good, for though nobody but Charley and I knew anything about it, I somehow felt as if it had diminished the separation between Ada and me and had brought us together again for those moments. I went back, not quite accustomed yet to the change, but all the better for that hovering about my darling. |
| 7243 |
When he told us that a large reward was offered by Sir Leicester Dedlock for the murderer's apprehension, I did not in my first consternation understand why; but a few more words explained to me that the murdered person was Sir Leicester's lawyer, and immediately my mother's dread of him rushed into my remembrance. |
| 7244 |
That he had charged his messenger to represent his perfect innocence with every solemn assurance he could send us. That Mr. Woodcourt had only quieted the man by undertaking to come to our house very early in the morning with these representations. He added that he was now upon his way to see the prisoner himself. |
| 7245 |
It seemed to become personally important to myself that the truth should be discovered and that no innocent people should be suspected, for suspicion, once run wild, might run wilder. In a word, I felt as if it were my duty and obligation to go with them. My guardian did not seek to dissuade me, and I went. |
| 7246 |
It was a large prison with many courts and passages so like one another and so uniformly paved that I seemed to gain a new comprehension, as I passed along, of the fondness that solitary prisoners, shut up among the same staring walls from year to year, have had as I have read for a weed or a stray blade of grass. |
| 7247 |
Now, the unfortunate deceased was himself a lawyer and had a pretty tight hold of me. I don't wish to rake up his ashes, but he had, what I should call if he was living, a devil of a tight hold of me. I don't like his trade the better for that. If I had kept clear of his trade, I should have kept outside this place. |
| 7248 |
Otherwise mildly studious in his observation of human nature, on the whole a benignant philosopher not disposed to be severe upon the follies of mankind, Mr. Bucket pervades a vast number of houses and strolls about an infinity of streets, to outward appearance rather languishing for want of an object. |
| 7249 |
He makes for Sir Leicester Dedlock's, which is at present a sort of home to him, where he comes and goes as he likes at all hours, where he is always welcome and made much of, where he knows the whole establishment, and walks in an atmosphere of mysterious greatness. No knocking or ringing for Mr. Bucket. |
| 7250 |
I know from my own inquiries and through my eyes and ears that Lady Dedlock did make such visit in the dress of her own maid, for the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn employed me to reckon up her ladyship if you'll excuse my making use of the term we commonly employ and I reckoned her up, so far, completely. |
| 7251 |
With such sounds he now breaks silence, soon, however, controlling himself to say that he does not comprehend why a gentleman so faithful and zealous as the late Mr. Tulkinghorn should have communicated to him nothing of this painful, this distressing, this unlooked for, this overwhelming, this incredible intelligence. |
| 7252 |
From information I received (from a clerk in the same house) I took George into custody as having been seen hanging about there on the night, and at very nigh the time of the murder, also as having been overheard in high words with the deceased on former occasions even threatening him, as the witness made out. |
| 7253 |
Sir Leicester, left alone, remains in the same attitude, as though he were still listening and his attention were still occupied. At length he gazes round the empty room, and finding it deserted, rises unsteadily to his feet, pushes back his chair, and walks a few steps, supporting himself by the table. |
| 7254 |
It is she whom he has loved, admired, honoured, and set up for the world to respect. It is she who, at the core of all the constrained formalities and conventionalities of his life, has been a stock of living tenderness and love, susceptible as nothing else is of being struck with the agony he feels. |
| 7255 |
A wonderfully grave, precise, and handsome piece of old china she looks, though her heart beats fast and her stomacher is ruffled more than even the remembrance of this wayward son has ruffled it these many years. Approaching the cell, they find the door opening and a warder in the act of coming out. |
| 7256 |
The old housekeeper looks at him, and those wandering hands of hers are quite enough for Mrs. Bagnet's confirmation, even if she could see the mother and the son together, knowing what she knows, and doubt their relationship. Not a rustle of the housekeeper's dress, not a gesture, not a word betrays her. |
| 7257 |
This is the most I consider possible. I know you are not a hard lady, but you go your own way always without help, and you are not familiar with your friends; and all who admire you and all do as a beautiful and elegant lady, know you to be one far away from themselves who can't be approached close. |
| 7258 |
It falls out of her hand. How long it may have lain upon the ground she knows not, but it lies where it fell when a servant stands before her announcing the young man of the name of Guppy. The words have probably been repeated several times, for they are ringing in her head before she begins to understand them. |
| 7259 |
So! All is broken down. Her name is in these many mouths, her husband knows his wrongs, her shame will be published may be spreading while she thinks about it and in addition to the thunderbolt so long foreseen by her, so unforeseen by him, she is denounced by an invisible accuser as the murderess of her enemy. |
| 7260 |
The Dedlock town house changes not externally, and hours pass before its exalted dullness is disturbed within. But Volumnia the fair, being subject to the prevalent complaint of boredom and finding that disorder attacking her spirits with some virulence, ventures at length to repair to the library for change of scene. |
| 7261 |
Nobody has seen or heard her since she last rang her bell. Her letter to Sir Leicester is discovered on her table, but it is doubtful yet whether he has not received another missive from another world requiring to be personally answered, and all the living languages, and all the dead, are as one to him. |
| 7262 |
They lay him down upon his bed, and chafe, and rub, and fan, and put ice to his head, and try every means of restoration. Howbeit, the day has ebbed away, and it is night in his room before his stertorous breathing lulls or his fixed eyes show any consciousness of the candle that is occasionally passed before them. |
| 7263 |
His voice was rich and mellow and he had so long been thoroughly persuaded of the weight and import to mankind of any word he said that his words really had come to sound as if there were something in them. But now he can only whisper, and what he whispers sounds like what it is mere jumble and jargon. |
| 7264 |
She opens it for him and puts it out for his perusal. Having read it twice by a great effort, he turns it down so that it shall not be seen and lies moaning. He passes into a kind of relapse or into a swoon, and it is an hour before he opens his eyes, reclining on his faithful and attached old servant's arm. |
| 7265 |
The slate comes into requisition again, but the word he wants to write he cannot remember. His anxiety, his eagerness, and affliction at this pass are pitiable to behold. It seems as if he must go mad in the necessity he feels for haste and the inability under which he labours of expressing to do what or to fetch whom. |
| 7266 |
Mr. Bucket does not claim to be a scientific judge of horses, but he lays out a little money on the principal events in that line, and generally sums up his knowledge of the subject in the remark that when he sees a horse as can go, he knows him. His knowledge is not at fault in the present instance. |
| 7267 |
Let me come up with her and be able to have the hold upon her of putting that young lady for'ard, and I'll save her and prevail with her if she is alive. Let me come up with her alone a hard matter and I'll do my best, but I don't answer for what the best may be. Time flies; it's getting on for one o'clock. |
| 7268 |
That my mother had fled, that a person was now at our door who was empowered to convey to her the fullest assurances of affectionate protection and forgiveness if he could possibly find her, and that I was sought for to accompany him in the hope that my entreaties might prevail upon her if his failed. |
| 7269 |
I could think of no one but my guardian. But by and by I mentioned Mr. Boythorn. He came into my mind as connected with his old chivalrous manner of mentioning my mother's name and with what my guardian had informed me of his engagement to her sister and his unconscious connexion with her unhappy story. |
| 7270 |
I had no need to remind myself that I was not there by the indulgence of any feeling of mine to increase the difficulties of the search, or to lessen its hopes, or enhance its delays. I remained quiet, but what I suffered in that dreadful spot I never can forget. And still it was like the horror of a dream. |
| 7271 |
We called at another office or station for a minute and crossed the river again. During the whole of this time, and during the whole search, my companion, wrapped up on the box, never relaxed in his vigilance a single moment; but when we crossed the bridge he seemed, if possible, to be more on the alert than before. |
| 7272 |
It was Jenny, the mother of the dead child, who was absent. The other woman rose on seeing me; and the men, though they were, as usual, sulky and silent, each gave me a morose nod of recognition. A look passed between them when Mr. Bucket followed me in, and I was surprised to see that the woman evidently knew him. |
| 7273 |
Then she went it might be at twenty minutes past eleven, and it might be at twenty minutes past twelve; we ain't got no watches here to know the time by, nor yet clocks. Where did she go? I don't know where she go'd. She went one way, and Jenny went another; one went right to Lunnun, and t'other went right from it. |
| 7274 |
They are up to keeping a close eye upon her, and any fool knows that a poor creetur like her, beaten and kicked and scarred and bruised from head to foot, will stand by the husband that ill uses her through thick and thin. There's something kept back. It's a pity but what we had seen the other woman. |
| 7275 |
The horses were brought out as soon as we were seen coming, and we were on the road again in a few minutes. It had set in snowing at daybreak, and it now snowed hard. The air was so thick with the darkness of the day and the density of the fall that we could see but a very little way in any direction. |
| 7276 |
Although it was extremely cold, the snow was but partially frozen, and it churned with a sound as if it were a beach of small shells under the hoofs of the horses into mire and water. They sometimes slipped and floundered for a mile together, and we were obliged to come to a standstill to rest them. |
| 7277 |
I sometimes feared we had missed the way and got into the ploughed grounds or the marshes. If I ever thought of the time I had been out, it presented itself as an indefinite period of great duration, and I seemed, in a strange way, never to have been free from the anxiety under which I then laboured. |
| 7278 |
I saw his finger uneasily going across and across his mouth during the whole of one long weary stage. I overheard that he began to ask the drivers of coaches and other vehicles coming towards us what passengers they had seen in other coaches and vehicles that were in advance. Their replies did not encourage him. |
| 7279 |
This corroborated the apprehensions I had formed, when he began to look at direction posts, and to leave the carriage at cross roads for a quarter of an hour at a time while he explored them. But I was not to be down hearted, he told me, for it was as likely as not that the next stage might set us right again. |
| 7280 |
I was frightened when I found them all about me, but I remembered that before I fainted I tried very hard not to do it; and that was some little comfort. They cushioned me up on a large sofa by the fire, and then the comely landlady told me that I must travel no further to night, but must go to bed. |
| 7281 |
A good endearing creature she was. She and her three fair girls, all so busy about me. I was to take hot soup and broiled fowl, while Mr. Bucket dried himself and dined elsewhere; but I could not do it when a snug round table was presently spread by the fireside, though I was very unwilling to disappoint them. |
| 7282 |
After I had got in and had taken a grateful leave of them all, the youngest daughter a blooming girl of nineteen, who was to be the first married, they had told me got upon the carriage step, reached in, and kissed me. I have never seen her, from that hour, but I think of her to this hour as my friend. |
| 7283 |
The transparent windows with the fire and light, looking so bright and warm from the cold darkness out of doors, were soon gone, and again we were crushing and churning the loose snow. We went on with toil enough, but the dismal roads were not much worse than they had been, and the stage was only nine miles. |
| 7284 |
You'll find, sir, that this topic will be very popular among my high connexion. If it had been a speculation, sir, it would have brought money. And when I say so, you may trust to my being right, sir, for I have made it my business to study my high connexion and to be able to wind it up like a clock, sir. |
| 7285 |
Sir Leicester, lying in his bed, can speak a little, though with difficulty and indistinctness. He is enjoined to silence and to rest, and they have given him some opiate to lull his pain, for his old enemy is very hard with him. He is never asleep, though sometimes he seems to fall into a dull waking doze. |
| 7286 |
My Lady's state has a hollow look, thus gloomy and abandoned; and in the inner apartment, where Mr. Bucket last night made his secret perquisition, the traces of her dresses and her ornaments, even the mirrors accustomed to reflect them when they were a portion of herself, have a desolate and vacant air. |
| 7287 |
The old housekeeper and her son remain until the preparations are complete, and then she returns upstairs. Volumnia has taken Mrs. Rouncewell's place in the meantime, though pearl necklaces and rouge pots, however calculated to embellish Bath, are but indifferent comforts to the invalid under present circumstances. |
| 7288 |
I do not mean that there was any difference between us (for there has been none), but that there was a misunderstanding of certain circumstances important only to ourselves, which deprives me, for a little while, of my Lady's society. She has found it necessary to make a journey I trust will shortly return. |
| 7289 |
But they find that however dejected and ill he is, he brightens when a quiet pretence is made of looking at the fires in her rooms and being sure that everything is ready to receive her. Poor pretence as it is, these allusions to her being expected keep up hope within him. Midnight comes, and with it the same blank. |
| 7290 |
Not last nor least among them, possibly, is a horror of what may befall her little income in the event, as she expresses it, "of anything happening" to Sir Leicester. Anything, in this sense, meaning one thing only; and that the last thing that can happen to the consciousness of any baronet in the known world. |
| 7291 |
Very familiar to him, as he said himself some hours ago, George Rouncewell lifts him into easier positions through the long remainder of the blank wintry night, and equally familiar with his unexpressed wish, extinguishes the light and undraws the curtains at the first late break of day. The day comes like a phantom. |
| 7292 |
We had made our way along roads in a far worse condition than when we had traversed them by daylight, both the fall and the thaw having lasted ever since; but the energy of my companion never slackened. It had only been, as I thought, of less assistance than the horses in getting us on, and it had often aided them. |
| 7293 |
My companion paid our two drivers, who were as completely covered with splashes as if they had been dragged along the roads like the carriage itself, and giving them some brief direction where to take it, lifted me out of it and into a hackney coach he had chosen from the rest. "Why, my dear!" he said as he did this. |
| 7294 |
This would attract similar lights from various dark quarters, like so many insects, and a fresh consultation would be held. By degrees we appeared to contract our search within narrower and easier limits. Single police officers on duty could now tell Mr. Bucket what he wanted to know and point to him where to go. |
| 7295 |
We passed on in silence and as quickly as we could with such a foot hold, when some one coming towards us on the narrow pavement, wrapped in a cloak, stopped and stood aside to give me room. In the same moment I heard an exclamation of wonder and my own name from Mr. Woodcourt. I knew his voice very well. |
| 7296 |
And so she took out the letter, and showed it me, and said if she was to put that in the post office, it would be rubbed out and not minded and never sent; and would I take it from her, and send it, and the messenger would be paid at the house. And so I said yes, if it was no harm, and she said no no harm. |
| 7297 |
The gate was closed. Beyond it was a burial ground a dreadful spot in which the night was very slowly stirring, but where I could dimly see heaps of dishonoured graves and stones, hemmed in by filthy houses with a few dull lights in their windows and on whose walls a thick humidity broke out like a disease. |
| 7298 |
We knew full well that her fervent heart was as full of affection and gratitude towards her cousin John as it had ever been, and we acquitted Richard of laying any injunctions upon her to stay away; but we knew on the other hand that she felt it a part of her duty to him to be sparing of her visits at our house. |
| 7299 |
Unreason and injustice at the top, unreason and injustice at the heart and at the bottom, unreason and injustice from beginning to end if it ever has an end how should poor Rick, always hovering near it, pluck reason out of it? He no more gathers grapes from thorns or figs from thistles than older men did in old times. |
| 7300 |
At other times he would be writing or reading papers in the cause at that table of his, so covered with papers, which was never disturbed. Sometimes I would come upon him lingering at the door of Mr. Vholes's office. Sometimes I would meet him in the neighbourhood lounging about and biting his nails. |
| 7301 |
Paler than she had been at home, and a little quieter than I had thought natural when she was yet so cheerful and hopeful, her face was so unshadowed that I half believed she was blinded by her love for Richard to his ruinous career. I went one day to dine with them while I was under this impression. |
| 7302 |
Then he sat down by Richard and half playfully, half earnestly, quite naturally and easily, found out how he felt and where he had been all day. Presently he proposed to accompany him in a short walk on one of the bridges, as it was a moonlight airy night; and Richard readily consenting, they went out together. |
| 7303 |
Here is a bank note produced by the man who demands the boy who is received into the house and put to bed in a state that I strongly object to. Here is the Skimpole who accepts the bank note produced by the man who demands the boy who is received into the house and put to bed in a state that I strongly object to. |
| 7304 |
Richard, more worn and haggard, haunted the court day after day, listlessly sat there the whole day long when he knew there was no remote chance of the suit being mentioned, and became one of the stock sights of the place. I wonder whether any of the gentlemen remembered him as he was when he first went there. |
| 7305 |
My dear girl was right in saying that he only pursued his errors the more desperately for her sake. I have no doubt that his desire to retrieve what he had lost was rendered the more intense by his grief for his young wife, and became like the madness of a gamester. I was there, as I have mentioned, at all hours. |
| 7306 |
I could not leave, as I usually did, quite punctually at the time, for I was working for my dear girl and had a few stitches more to do to finish what I was about; but it was within a few minutes of the hour when I bundled up my little work basket, gave my darling my last kiss for the night, and hurried downstairs. |
| 7307 |
We waited half an hour, walking up and down, but there were no signs of him. We agreed that he was either prevented from coming or that he had come and gone away, and Mr. Woodcourt proposed to walk home with me. It was the first walk we had ever taken together, except that very short one to the usual place of meeting. |
| 7308 |
We were in the very same room into which I had brought my blushing girl when her youthful lover, now her so altered husband, was the choice of her young heart, the very same room from which my guardian and I had watched them going away through the sunlight in the fresh bloom of their hope and promise. |
| 7309 |
We were standing by the opened window looking down into the street when Mr. Woodcourt spoke to me. I learned in a moment that he loved me. I learned in a moment that my scarred face was all unchanged to him. I learned in a moment that what I had thought was pity and compassion was devoted, generous, faithful love. |
| 7310 |
I had no need of any light to read my guardian's letter by, for I knew it by heart. I took it from the place where I kept it, and repeated its contents by its own clear light of integrity and love, and went to sleep with it on my pillow. I was up very early in the morning and called Charley to come for a walk. |
| 7311 |
I make an agreement with my son Watt to day that on this day twelvemonth he shall marry as pretty and as good a girl as you have seen in all your travels. She goes to Germany to morrow with one of your nieces for a little polishing up in her education. We make a feast of the event, and you will be made the hero of it. |
| 7312 |
I don't say much about my garrison manners because I found myself pretty well at my ease last night, and they wouldn't be noticed here, I dare say, once and away. But I shall get on best at Chesney Wold, where there's more room for a weed than there is here; and the dear old lady will be made happy besides. |
| 7313 |
Regulating my purchases by my guardian's taste, which I knew very well of course, I arranged my wardrobe to please him and hoped I should be highly successful. I did it all so quietly because I was not quite free from my old apprehension that Ada would be rather sorry and because my guardian was so quiet himself. |
| 7314 |
She could never do enough for me and was remarkably softened now in comparison with what she had been when we first knew her. There was no trouble she would not have taken to have been of use to me, but I need hardly say that I only allowed her to take as little as gratified her kindness without tasking it. |
| 7315 |
Which of us was right will soon appear, but I certainly did encourage expectations. In Richard, the discovery gave occasion for a burst of business and agitation that buoyed him up for a little time, but he had lost the elasticity even of hope now and seemed to me to retain only its feverish anxieties. |
| 7316 |
From something my guardian said one day when we were talking about this, I understood that my marriage would not take place until after the term time we had been told to look forward to; and I thought the more, for that, how rejoiced I should be if I could be married when Richard and Ada were a little more prosperous. |
| 7317 |
I travelled all day, wondering all day what I could be wanted for at such a distance; now I thought it might be for this purpose, and now I thought it might be for that purpose, but I was never, never, never near the truth. It was night when I came to my journey's end and found my guardian waiting for me. |
| 7318 |
This was a great relief, for towards evening I had begun to fear (the more so as his letter was a very short one) that he might be ill. However, there he was, as well as it was possible to be; and when I saw his genial face again at its brightest and best, I said to myself, he has been doing some other great kindness. |
| 7319 |
We were to be married before the month was out, but when we were to come and take possession of our own house was to depend on Richard and Ada. We all three went home together next day. As soon as we arrived in town, Allan went straight to see Richard and to carry our joyful news to him and my darling. |
| 7320 |
When we came home we found that a young man had called three times in the course of that one day to see me and that having been told on the occasion of his third call that I was not expected to return before ten o'clock at night, he had left word that he would call about then. He had left his card three times. |
| 7321 |
I do not consider that in making this offer to Miss Summerson I am by any means throwing myself away; neither is that the opinion of my friends. Still, there are circumstances which I submit may be taken into account as a set off against any little drawbacks of mine, and so a fair and equitable balance arrived at. |
| 7322 |
Richard was extremely agitated and was so weak and low, though his illness was still of the mind, that my dear girl indeed had sore occasion to be supported. But she looked forward a very little way now to the help that was to come to her, and never drooped. It was at Westminster that the cause was to come on. |
| 7323 |
Alas it was! Our suspense was short, for a break up soon took place in the crowd, and the people came streaming out looking flushed and hot and bringing a quantity of bad air with them. Still they were all exceedingly amused and were more like people coming out from a farce or a juggler than from a court of justice. |
| 7324 |
I went upstairs. When my darling heard my footsteps, she came out into the small passage and threw her arms round my neck, but she composed herself directly and said that Richard had asked for me several times. Allan had found him sitting in the corner of the court, she told me, like a stone figure. |
| 7325 |
He was stopped by his mouth being full of blood, and Allan had brought him home. He was lying on a sofa with his eyes closed when I went in. There were restoratives on the table; the room was made as airy as possible, and was darkened, and was very orderly and quiet. Allan stood behind him watching him gravely. |
| 7326 |
I almost felt as if my own heart would have broken when I saw him take my husband's hand and hold it to his breast. We spoke of the future as much as possible, and he said several times that he must be present at our marriage if he could stand upon his feet. Ada would contrive to take him, somehow, he said. |
| 7327 |
He slowly laid his face down upon her bosom, drew his arms closer round her neck, and with one parting sob began the world. Not this world, oh, not this! The world that sets this right. When all was still, at a late hour, poor crazed Miss Flite came weeping to me and told me she had given her birds their liberty. |
| 7328 |
There is a hush upon Chesney Wold in these altered days, as there is upon a portion of the family history. The story goes that Sir Leicester paid some who could have spoken out to hold their peace; but it is a lame story, feebly whispering and creeping about, and any brighter spark of life it shows soon dies away. |
| 7329 |
Up from among the fern in the hollow, and winding by the bridleroad among the trees, comes sometimes to this lonely spot the sound of horses' hoofs. Then may be seen Sir Leicester invalided, bent, and almost blind, but of worthy presence yet riding with a stalwart man beside him, constant to his bridle rein. |
| 7330 |
Volumnia, growing with the flight of time pinker as to the red in her face, and yellower as to the white, reads to Sir Leicester in the long evenings and is driven to various artifices to conceal her yawns, of which the chief and most efficacious is the insertion of the pearl necklace between her rosy lips. |
| 7331 |
Not without some, I hope, on his or hers. They gave my darling into my arms, and through many weeks I never left her. The little child who was to have done so much was born before the turf was planted on its father's grave. It was a boy; and I, my husband, and my guardian gave him his father's name. |
| 7332 |
When I saw the strength of the weak little hand and how its touch could heal my darling's heart and raised hope within her, I felt a new sense of the goodness and the tenderness of God. They throve, and by degrees I saw my dear girl pass into my country garden and walk there with her infant in her arms. |
| 7333 |
Old Mr. Turveydrop, very apoplectic, still exhibits his deportment about town, still enjoys himself in the old manner, is still believed in in the old way. He is constant in his patronage of Peepy and is understood to have bequeathed him a favourite French clock in his dressing room which is not his property. |
| 7334 |
I never walk out with my husband but I hear the people bless him. I never go into a house of any degree but I hear his praises or see them in grateful eyes. I never lie down at night but I know that in the course of that day he has alleviated pain and soothed some fellow creature in the time of need. |
| 7335 |
Now it was, you observe, that the kettle began to spend the evening. Now it was, that the kettle, growing mellow and musical, began to have irrepressible gurglings in its throat, and to indulge in short vocal snorts, which it checked in the bud, as if it hadn't quite made up its mind yet, to be good company. |
| 7336 |
When she came back, and sat down in her former seat, the Cricket and the kettle were still keeping it up, with a perfect fury of competition. The kettle's weak side clearly being, that he didn't know when he was beat. There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. |
| 7337 |
But a live baby there was, in Mrs. Peerybingle's arms; and a pretty tolerable amount of pride she seemed to have in it, when she was drawn gently to the fire, by a sturdy figure of a man, much taller and much older than herself, who had to stoop a long way down, to kiss her. But she was worth the trouble. |
| 7338 |
Absorbed in thought, she stood there, heedless alike of the tea and John (although he called to her, and rapped the table with his knife to startle her), until he rose and touched her on the arm; when she looked at him for a moment, and hurried to her place behind the teaboard, laughing at her negligence. |
| 7339 |
Then, sinking from his grasp upon the ground, she covered her face with her apron, and wept bitterly. And then she laughed again, and then she cried again, and then she said how cold it was, and suffered him to lead her to the fire, where she sat down as before. The old man standing, as before, quite still. |
| 7340 |
As it would have been hard to count the dozens upon dozens of grotesque figures that were ever ready to commit all sorts of absurdities on the turning of a handle, so it would have been no easy task to mention any human folly, vice, or weakness, that had not its type, immediate or remote, in Caleb Plummer's room. |
| 7341 |
The canal was rather slow and torpid; that must be admitted. Never mind. It would freeze the sooner when the frost set fairly in, and then there would be skating, and sliding; and the heavy old barges, frozen up somewhere near a wharf, would smoke their rusty iron chimney pipes all day, and have a lazy time of it. |
| 7342 |
Tackleton was a man of taste beyond all question. May was very pretty. You know sometimes, when you are used to a pretty face, how, when it comes into contact and comparison with another pretty face, it seems for the moment to be homely and faded, and hardly to deserve the high opinion you have had of it. |
| 7343 |
Caleb sat next his daughter; Dot and her old schoolfellow were side by side; the good Carrier took care of the bottom of the table. Miss Slowboy was isolated, for the time being, from every article of furniture but the chair she sat on, that she might have nothing else to knock the Baby's head against. |
| 7344 |
There were two persons present, besides the bride and bridegroom elect, who did but indifferent honour to the toast. One of these was Dot, too flushed and discomposed to adapt herself to any small occurrence of the moment; the other, Bertha, who rose up hurriedly, before the rest, and left the table. |
| 7345 |
By this time it was the established hour for having tea; and Tackleton came back again, to share the meal, and spend the evening. Caleb and Bertha had returned some time before, and Caleb had sat down to his afternoon's work. But he couldn't settle to it, poor fellow, being anxious and remorseful for his daughter. |
| 7346 |
It was an angry thought, goading him to some avenging act, that should change the cheerful house into a haunted place which lonely travellers would dread to pass by night; and where the timid would see shadows struggling in the ruined windows when the moon was dim, and hear wild noises in the stormy weather. |
| 7347 |
He recoiled from the door, like a man walking in his sleep, awakened from a frightful dream; and put the gun aside. Clasping his hands before his face, he then sat down again beside the fire, and found relief in tears. The Cricket on the Hearth came out into the room, and stood in Fairy shape before him. |
| 7348 |
They came to summon her to join their party. It was a dance. If ever little foot were made for dancing, hers was, surely. But she laughed, and shook her head, and pointed to her cookery on the fire, and her table ready spread: with an exulting defiance that rendered her more charming than she was before. |
| 7349 |
And when they found her thus, they neither turned nor looked upon him, but gathered close round her, and comforted and kissed her, and pressed on one another to show sympathy and kindness to her, and forgot him altogether. Thus the night passed. The moon went down; the stars grew pale; the cold day broke; the sun rose. |
| 7350 |
Accordingly, Dot went to work to produce such an entertainment, as should reflect undying honour on the house and on every one concerned; and in a very short space of time, she was up to her dimpled elbows in flour, and whitening the Carrier's coat, every time he came near her, by stopping him to give him a kiss. |
| 7351 |
Nothing was in use that day that didn't come, at some time or other, into close acquaintance with it. Then, there was a great Expedition set on foot to go and find out Mrs. Fielding; and to be dismally penitent to that excellent gentlewoman; and to bring her back, by force, if needful, to be happy and forgiving. |
| 7352 |
Taking advantage of this crisis in her feelings, the Expedition embraced her; and she very soon had her gloves on, and was on her way to John Peerybingle's in a state of unimpeachable gentility; with a paper parcel at her side containing a cap of state, almost as tall, and quite as stiff, as a mitre. |
| 7353 |
Mrs. Fielding, being a lady of infinite discernment, suggested that the cake was poisoned, and related a narrative of a cake, which, within her knowledge, had turned a seminary for young ladies, blue. But she was overruled by acclamation; and the cake was cut by May, with much ceremony and rejoicing. |
| 7354 |
Son about eight and forty minutes. Dombey was rather bald, rather red, and though a handsome well made man, too stern and pompous in appearance, to be prepossessing. Son was very bald, and very red, and though (of course) an undeniably fine infant, somewhat crushed and spotty in his general effect, as yet. |
| 7355 |
Dombey and Son had often dealt in hides, but never in hearts. They left that fancy ware to boys and girls, and boarding schools and books. Mr Dombey would have reasoned: That a matrimonial alliance with himself must, in the nature of things, be gratifying and honourable to any woman of common sense. |
| 7356 |
Her eyes were liable to a similar affection. She had the softest voice that ever was heard; and her nose, stupendously aquiline, had a little knob in the very centre or key stone of the bridge, whence it tended downwards towards her face, as in an invincible determination never to turn up at anything. |
| 7357 |
The lady lay upon her bed as he had left her, clasping her little daughter to her breast. The child clung close about her, with the same intensity as before, and never raised her head, or moved her soft cheek from her mother's face, or looked on those who stood around, or spoke, or moved, or shed a tear. |
| 7358 |
She delivered it for the behoof of Mr Chick, who was a stout bald gentleman, with a very large face, and his hands continually in his pockets, and who had a tendency in his nature to whistle and hum tunes, which, sensible of the indecorum of such sounds in a house of grief, he was at some pains to repress at present. |
| 7359 |
As in any case, he couldn't, however sanguine his disposition, hope to offer a remark that would be a greater outrage on human nature in general, we would beg to leave the discussion at that point. Mrs Chick then walked majestically to the window and peeped through the blind, attracted by the sound of wheels. |
| 7360 |
When they gave me that answer, I do assure you, my dear, I was almost driven to despair on your account. But it did so happen, that one of the Royal Married Females, hearing the inquiry, reminded the matron of another who had gone to her own home, and who, she said, would in all likelihood be most satisfactory. |
| 7361 |
In a moment afterwards he determined that it could, but that such women were constantly observed, and had no opportunity given them for the accomplishment of such a design, even when they were so wicked as to entertain it. In another moment, he was remembering how few such cases seemed to have ever happened. |
| 7362 |
In another moment he was wondering whether they ever happened and were not found out. As his unusual emotion subsided, these misgivings gradually melted away, though so much of their shadow remained behind, that he was constant in his resolution to look closely after Richards himself, without appearing to do so. |
| 7363 |
Accordingly, mysterious shapes were made of tables and chairs, heaped together in the middle of rooms, and covered over with great winding sheets. Bell handles, window blinds, and looking glasses, being papered up in journals, daily and weekly, obtruded fragmentary accounts of deaths and dreadful murders. |
| 7364 |
These three rooms opened upon one another. In the morning, when Mr Dombey was at his breakfast in one or other of the two first mentioned of them, as well as in the afternoon when he came home to dinner, a bell was rung for Richards to repair to this glass chamber, and there walk to and fro with her young charge. |
| 7365 |
The child, in her grief and neglect, was so gentle, so quiet, and uncomplaining; was possessed of so much affection that no one seemed to care to have, and so much sorrowful intelligence that no one seemed to mind or think about the wounding of, that Polly's heart was sore when she was left alone again. |
| 7366 |
Next night, she found him walking about the conservatory when she came down. As she stopped at the door, checked by this unusual sight, and uncertain whether to advance or retreat, he called her in. His mind was too much set on Dombey and Son, it soon appeared, to admit of his having forgotten her suggestion. |
| 7367 |
She feigned to be dandling the child as the servant retired on this errand, but she thought that she saw Mr Dombey's colour changed; that the expression of his face quite altered; that he turned, hurriedly, as if to gainsay what he had said, or she had said, or both, and was only deterred by very shame. |
| 7368 |
And she was right. The last time he had seen his slighted child, there had been that in the sad embrace between her and her dying mother, which was at once a revelation and a reproach to him. Let him be absorbed as he would in the Son on whom he built such high hopes, he could not forget that closing scene. |
| 7369 |
Young as she was, and possessing in any eyes but his (and perhaps in his too) even more than the usual amount of childish simplicity and confidence, he almost felt as if she watched and distrusted him. As if she held the clue to something secret in his breast, of the nature of which he was hardly informed himself. |
| 7370 |
As she sported and played about her baby brother that night, her manner was seldom so winning and so pretty as it naturally was, and sometimes when in his pacing to and fro, he came near her (she had, perhaps, for the moment, forgotten him) it changed upon the instant and became forced and embarrassed. |
| 7371 |
Old prints of ships with alphabetical references to their various mysteries, hung in frames upon the walls; the Tartar Frigate under weigh, was on the plates; outlandish shells, seaweeds, and mosses, decorated the chimney piece; the little wainscotted back parlour was lighted by a sky light, like a cabin. |
| 7372 |
He wore a very precise shirt frill, and carried a pair of first rate spectacles on his forehead, and a tremendous chronometer in his fob, rather than doubt which precious possession, he would have believed in a conspiracy against it on part of all the clocks and watches in the City, and even of the very Sun itself. |
| 7373 |
It is half past five o'clock, and an autumn afternoon, when the reader and Solomon Gills become acquainted. Solomon Gills is in the act of seeing what time it is by the unimpeachable chronometer. The usual daily clearance has been making in the City for an hour or more; and the human tide is still rolling westward. |
| 7374 |
Then, there were five hundred casks of such wine aboard; and all hands (except the first mate, first lieutenant, two seamen, and a lady, in a leaky boat) going to work to stave the casks, got drunk and died drunk, singing "Rule Britannia", when she settled and went down, and ending with one awful scream in chorus. |
| 7375 |
Until then, I am enough for him, perhaps, and all in all. I have no wish that people should step in between us. I would much rather show my sense of the obliging conduct of a deserving person like your friend. Therefore let it be so; and your husband and myself will do well enough for the other sponsors, I daresay. |
| 7376 |
The stiff and stark fire irons appeared to claim a nearer relationship than anything else there to Mr Dombey, with his buttoned coat, his white cravat, his heavy gold watch chain, and his creaking boots. But this was before the arrival of Mr and Mrs Chick, his lawful relatives, who soon presented themselves. |
| 7377 |
Once upon the road to church, Mr Dombey clapped his hands for the amusement of his son. At which instance of parental enthusiasm Miss Tox was enchanted. But exclusive of this incident, the chief difference between the christening party and a party in a mourning coach consisted in the colours of the carriage and horses. |
| 7378 |
Before he turned again to lead the way, he gave Mr Dombey a bow and a half smile of recognition, importing that he (the beadle) remembered to have had the pleasure of attending on him when he buried his wife, and hoped he had enjoyed himself since. The very wedding looked dismal as they passed in front of the altar. |
| 7379 |
Lodging house keepers were favourable in like manner; and for the like reasons were not to be trusted. The general belief was very slow. There were frowzy fields, and cow houses, and dunghills, and dustheaps, and ditches, and gardens, and summer houses, and carpet beating grounds, at the very door of the Railway. |
| 7380 |
The youth of the streets could not endure it. No young vagabond could be brought to bear its contemplation for a moment, without throwing himself upon the unoffending wearer, and doing him a mischief. His social existence had been more like that of an early Christian, than an innocent child of the nineteenth century. |
| 7381 |
She was miserably dressed, and carried some skins over her arm. She seemed to have followed Florence some little way at all events, for she had lost her breath; and this made her uglier still, as she stood trying to regain it: working her shrivelled yellow face and throat into all sorts of contortions. |
| 7382 |
Opening the door with a key she took out of her bonnet, she pushed the child before her into a back room, where there was a great heap of rags of different colours lying on the floor; a heap of bones, and a heap of sifted dust or cinders; but there was no furniture at all, and the walls and ceiling were quite black. |
| 7383 |
In hurriedly putting on the bonnet, if that may be called a bonnet which was more like a pad to carry loads on, she caught it in her hair which grew luxuriantly, and could not immediately disentangle it. Good Mrs Brown whipped out a large pair of scissors, and fell into an unaccountable state of excitement. |
| 7384 |
Pointing out this gateway, and informing Florence that when the clocks struck three she was to go to the left, Mrs Brown, after making a parting grasp at her hair which seemed involuntary and quite beyond her own control, told her she knew what to do, and bade her go and do it: remembering that she was watched. |
| 7385 |
But she, who had heard what passed, and who, besides the relief of so suddenly considering herself safe at her journey's end, felt reassured beyond all measure by his lively youthful face and manner, ran eagerly up to him, leaving one of the slipshod shoes upon the ground and caught his hand in both of hers. |
| 7386 |
He was respectably, though very plainly dressed, in black; but his clothes, moulded to the general character of his figure, seemed to shrink and abase themselves upon him, and to join in the sorrowful solicitation which the whole man from head to foot expressed, to be left unnoticed, and alone in his humility. |
| 7387 |
And yet his interest in youth and hopefulness was not extinguished with the other embers of his soul, for he watched the boy's earnest countenance as he spoke with unusual sympathy, though with an inexplicable show of trouble and compassion, which escaped into his looks, however hard he strove to hold it prisoner. |
| 7388 |
Notwithstanding his very liberal laudation of himself, however, the Major was selfish. It may be doubted whether there ever was a more entirely selfish person at heart; or at stomach is perhaps a better expression, seeing that he was more decidedly endowed with that latter organ than with the former. |
| 7389 |
Yet, in spite of his early promise, all this vigilance and care could not make little Paul a thriving boy. Naturally delicate, perhaps, he pined and wasted after the dismissal of his nurse, and, for a long time, seemed but to wait his opportunity of gliding through their hands, and seeking his lost mother. |
| 7390 |
He had settled, within himself, that the child must necessarily pass through a certain routine of minor maladies, and that the sooner he did so the better. If he could have bought him off, or provided a substitute, as in the case of an unlucky drawing for the militia, he would have been glad to do so, on liberal terms. |
| 7391 |
Perhaps he had seen, with a child's quickness, that it had already made his father uncomfortable. But he repeated the thought aloud, as if it were quite an old one to him, and had troubled him very much; and sat with his chin resting on his hand, still cogitating and looking for an explanation in the fire. |
| 7392 |
The child immediately started up with sudden readiness and animation, and raised towards his father in bidding him good night, a countenance so much brighter, so much younger, and so much more child like altogether, that Mr Dombey, while he felt greatly reassured by the change, was quite amazed at it. |
| 7393 |
The sooner you understand that, Paul, and admit that, the better. If you have any doubt as to the amount of care, and caution, and affection, and self sacrifice, that has been bestowed upon little Paul, I should wish to refer the question to your medical attendant, or to any of your dependants in this house. |
| 7394 |
I quite agree with you, Paul, that perhaps topics may be incautiously mentioned upstairs before him, which it would be as well for his little mind not to expatiate upon; but I really don't see how that is to be helped, in the case of a child of his quickness. If he were a common child, there would be nothing in it. |
| 7395 |
Besides, Mr Dombey was in a state almost amounting to consternation at the idea of Paul remaining where he was one hour after his removal had been recommended by the medical practitioner. It was a stoppage and delay upon the road the child must traverse, slowly at the best, before the goal was reached. |
| 7396 |
Their recommendation of Mrs Pipchin had great weight with him; for he knew that they were jealous of any interference with their charge, and he never for a moment took it into account that they might be solicitous to divide a responsibility, of which he had, as shown just now, his own established views. |
| 7397 |
In the winter time the air couldn't be got out of the Castle, and in the summer time it couldn't be got in. There was such a continual reverberation of wind in it, that it sounded like a great shell, which the inhabitants were obliged to hold to their ears night and day, whether they liked it or no. |
| 7398 |
Nor had she any symptoms of declining, in the course of the ensuing week, when the constitutional viands still continued to disappear in regular succession, notwithstanding that Paul studied her as attentively as ever, and occupied his usual seat between the black skirts and the fender, with unwavering constancy. |
| 7399 |
But as Paul himself was no stronger at the expiration of that time than he had been on his first arrival, though he looked much healthier in the face, a little carriage was got for him, in which he could lie at his ease, with an alphabet and other elementary works of reference, and be wheeled down to the sea side. |
| 7400 |
Florence was neglected and coldly looked upon, and his breast was full of youthful interest for the slighted child in her dull, stately home. Thus it came about that, perhaps some half a dozen times in the course of the year, Walter pulled off his hat to Florence in the street, and Florence would stop to shake hands. |
| 7401 |
As to its adventurous beginning, and all those little circumstances which gave it a distinctive character and relish, he took them into account, more as a pleasant story very agreeable to his imagination, and not to be dismissed from it, than as a part of any matter of fact with which he was concerned. |
| 7402 |
So it was that he went on doing what he had to do from day to day, in a cheerful, pains taking, merry spirit; and saw through the sanguine complexion of Uncle Sol and Captain Cuttle; and yet entertained a thousand indistinct and visionary fancies of his own, to which theirs were work a day probabilities. |
| 7403 |
But as that was the extent of the broker's acquaintance with Solomon Gills also, Walter was not a little surprised when he came back in the course of the forenoon, agreeably to his promise, to find Mr Brogley sitting in the back parlour with his hands in his pockets, and his hat hanging up behind the door. |
| 7404 |
There were the usual entanglement and noise of carts, drays, omnibuses, waggons, and foot passengers, but the misfortune that had fallen on the wooden Midshipman made it strange and new. Houses and shops were different from what they used to be, and bore Mr Brogley's warrant on their fronts in large characters. |
| 7405 |
Then, pollard willows. Then, more ditches. Then, unaccountable patches of dirty water, hardly to be descried, for the ships that covered them. Then, the air was perfumed with chips; and all other trades were swallowed up in mast, oar, and block making, and boatbuilding. Then, the ground grew marshy and unsettled. |
| 7406 |
Mr Dombey's habitual silence and reserve yielding readily to this usurpation, the Major felt that he was coming out and shining: and in the flow of spirits thus engendered, rang such an infinite number of new changes on his own name that he quite astonished himself. In a word, they were all very well pleased. |
| 7407 |
He appeared to entertain a belief that the interview at which he had assisted was so very satisfactory and encouraging, as to be only a step or two removed from a regular betrothal of Florence to Walter; and that the late transaction had immensely forwarded, if not thoroughly established, the Whittingtonian hopes. |
| 7408 |
It was plain that he had given the subject anxious consideration, for he had formed a plan, which he announced to the ogress, of sending Paul to the Doctor's as a weekly boarder for the first half year, during which time Florence would remain at the Castle, that she might receive her brother there, on Saturdays. |
| 7409 |
No matter what a young gentleman was intended to bear, Doctor Blimber made him bear to pattern, somehow or other. This was all very pleasant and ingenious, but the system of forcing was attended with its usual disadvantages. There was not the right taste about the premature productions, and they didn't keep well. |
| 7410 |
She said at evening parties, that if she could have known Cicero, she thought she could have died contented. It was the steady joy of her life to see the Doctor's young gentlemen go out walking, unlike all other young gentlemen, in the largest possible shirt collars, and the stiffest possible cravats. |
| 7411 |
But he went on blow, blow, blowing, in the Doctor's hothouse, all the time; and the Doctor's glory and reputation were great, when he took his wintry growth home to his relations and friends. Upon the Doctor's door steps one day, Paul stood with a fluttering heart, and with his small right hand in his father's. |
| 7412 |
Toots, too, had no business to be outside the door, ostentatiously examining the wheels in his watch, and counting his half crowns. But that didn't last long; for Doctor Blimber, happening to change the position of his tight plump legs, as if he were going to get up, Toots swiftly vanished, and appeared no more. |
| 7413 |
Cornelia took him first to the schoolroom, which was situated at the back of the hall, and was approached through two baize doors, which deadened and muffled the young gentlemen's voices. Here, there were eight young gentlemen in various stages of mental prostration, all very hard at work, and very grave indeed. |
| 7414 |
She asked and gave no quarter. She said it must be war, and war it was; and Mrs Pipchin lived from that time in the midst of surprises, harassings, and defiances, and skirmishing attacks that came bouncing in upon her from the passage, even in unguarded moments of chops, and carried desolation to her very toast. |
| 7415 |
Some mist there may have been, issuing from that leaden casket, his cranium, which, if it could have taken shape and form, would have become a genie; but it could not; and it only so far followed the example of the smoke in the Arabian story, as to roll out in a thick cloud, and there hang and hover. |
| 7416 |
The evenings being longer now, Paul stole up to his window every evening to look out for Florence. She always passed and repassed at a certain time, until she saw him; and their mutual recognition was a gleam of sunshine in Paul's daily life. Often after dark, one other figure walked alone before the Doctor's house. |
| 7417 |
But it is to be lamented of this young gentleman that he is singular (what is usually termed old fashioned) in his character and conduct, and that, without presenting anything in either which distinctly calls for reprobation, he is often very unlike other young gentlemen of his age and social position. |
| 7418 |
But Paul's head, which had long been ailing more or less, and was sometimes very heavy and painful, felt so uneasy that night, that he was obliged to support it on his hand. And yet it dropped so, that by little and little it sunk on Mr Toots's knee, and rested there, as if it had no care to be ever lifted up again. |
| 7419 |
Then he went on immediately to tell Mrs Pipchin all about the party, about Florence's invitation, about the pride he would have in the admiration that would be felt for her by all the boys, about their being so kind to him and fond of him, about his being so fond of them, and about his being so glad of it. |
| 7420 |
How they came there, or how long they had been there, Paul didn't know; but when he saw them, he sat up in bed, and answered all the Apothecary's questions at full length, and whispered to him that Florence was not to know anything about it, if he pleased, and that he had set his mind upon her coming to the party. |
| 7421 |
Paul lost that word And that the little fellow had a fine mind, but was an old fashioned boy. What old fashion could that be, Paul wondered with a palpitating heart, that was so visibly expressed in him; so plainly seen by so many people! He could neither make it out, nor trouble himself long with the effort. |
| 7422 |
Florence would see that the boys were fond of him; and that would make her happy. This was his great theme. Let Florence once be sure that they were gentle and good to him, and that he had become a little favourite among them, and then the would always think of the time he had passed there, without being very sorry. |
| 7423 |
Paul now slipped away from the cushioned corner of a sofa, which had been his post of observation, and went downstairs into the tea room to be ready for Florence, whom he had not seen for nearly a fortnight, as he had remained at Doctor Blimber's on the previous Saturday and Sunday, lest he should take cold. |
| 7424 |
And he told her the truth, too; for his small heart swelled, and his face glowed, when he saw how much they all admired her, and how she was the beautiful little rosebud of the room. From his nest among the pillows, Paul could see and hear almost everything that passed as if the whole were being done for his amusement. |
| 7425 |
How could they help it! Paul had known beforehand that they must and would; and sitting in his cushioned corner, with calmly folded hands; and one leg loosely doubled under him, few would have thought what triumph and delight expanded his childish bosom while he watched her, or what a sweet tranquillity he felt. |
| 7426 |
Was she glad to know it? And a lively delight was in his eyes as he spoke to her. Once, for a last look, he turned and gazed upon the faces thus addressed to him, surprised to see how shining and how bright, and numerous they were, and how they were all piled and heaped up, as faces are at crowded theatres. |
| 7427 |
When Mr Dombey had looked at him, and told him he was young, and that his Uncle's circumstances were not good, there had been an expression of disdain in his face; a contemptuous and disparaging assumption that he would be quite content to live idly on a reduced old man, which stung the boy's generous soul. |
| 7428 |
Now, we must say nothing of this to my Uncle, Captain Cuttle, but must make it out to be as favourable and promising as we can; and when I tell you what it really is, I only do so, that in case any means should ever arise of lending me a hand, so far off, I may have one friend at home who knows my real situation. |
| 7429 |
His way was nowhere in particular; but he thought he would go out into the fields, where he could reflect upon the unknown life before him, and resting under some tree, ponder quietly. He knew no better fields than those near Hampstead, and no better means of getting at them than by passing Mr Dombey's house. |
| 7430 |
He looked back then; with the interest he had always felt for the place since the adventure of the lost child, years ago; and looked especially at those upper windows. While he was thus engaged, a chariot drove to the door, and a portly gentleman in black, with a heavy watch chain, alighted, and went in. |
| 7431 |
No, not so much. Yet Walter so idealised the pretty child whom he had found wandering in the rough streets, and so identified her with her innocent gratitude of that night and the simplicity and truth of its expression, that he blushed for himself as a libeller when he argued that she could ever grow proud. |
| 7432 |
Turning quickly in his surprise, he saw that a hackney coach, going in the contrary direction, had stopped at no great distance; that the coachman was looking back from his box and making signals to him with his whip; and that a young woman inside was leaning out of the window, and beckoning with immense energy. |
| 7433 |
The old by streets now swarmed with passengers and vehicles of every kind: the new streets that had stopped disheartened in the mud and waggon ruts, formed towns within themselves, originating wholesome comforts and conveniences belonging to themselves, and never tried nor thought of until they sprung into existence. |
| 7434 |
There were railway hotels, office houses, lodging houses, boarding houses; railway plans, maps, views, wrappers, bottles, sandwich boxes, and time tables; railway hackney coach and stands; railway omnibuses, railway streets and buildings, railway hangers on and parasites, and flatterers out of all calculation. |
| 7435 |
When the sunbeams struck into his room through the rustling blinds, and quivered on the opposite wall like golden water, he knew that evening was coming on, and that the sky was red and beautiful. As the reflection died away, and a gloom went creeping up the wall, he watched it deepen, deepen, deepen, into night. |
| 7436 |
As it grew later in the night, and footsteps in the street became so rare that he could hear them coming, count them as they passed, and lose them in the hollow distance, he would lie and watch the many coloured ring about the candle, and wait patiently for day. His only trouble was, the swift and rapid river. |
| 7437 |
Yes, yes. No other stranger would have shed those tears at sight of him, and called him her dear boy, her pretty boy, her own poor blighted child. No other woman would have stooped down by his bed, and taken up his wasted hand, and put it to her lips and breast, as one who had some right to fondle it. |
| 7438 |
But the uncertain temper of Mrs MacStinger, and the possibility of her setting up her rest in the passage during such an entertainment, and there delivering some homily of an uncomplimentary nature, operated as a check on the Captain's hospitable thoughts, and rendered him timid of giving them encouragement. |
| 7439 |
Walter, for his part, feigned to be so full of hope and ardour, and so sure of coming home again soon, and backed up the Captain with such expressive shakings of his head and rubbings of his hands, that Solomon, looking first at him then at Captain Cuttle, began to think he ought to be transported with joy. |
| 7440 |
Now the rosy children living opposite to Mr Dombey's house, peep from their nursery windows down into the street; for there are four black horses at his door, with feathers on their heads; and feathers tremble on the carriage that they draw; and these, and an array of men with scarves and staves, attract a crowd. |
| 7441 |
His walk is as erect, his bearing is as stiff as ever it has been. He hides his face behind no handkerchief, and looks before him. But that his face is something sunk and rigid, and is pale, it bears the same expression as of old. He takes his place within the carriage, and three other gentlemen follow. |
| 7442 |
In the evening also, Mr Towlinson goes out to take the air, accompanied by the housemaid, who has not yet tried her mourning bonnet. They are very tender to each other at dusky street corners, and Towlinson has visions of leading an altered and blameless existence as a serious greengrocer in Oxford Market. |
| 7443 |
It was not very long before the golden water, dancing on the wall, in the old place, at the old serene time, had her calm eye fixed upon it as it ebbed away. It was not very long before that room again knew her, often; sitting there alone, as patient and as mild as when she had watched beside the little bed. |
| 7444 |
Florence would sometimes look no more at this, and bursting into tears would hide behind the curtain as if she were frightened, or would hurry from the window. Yet she could not help returning; and her work would soon fall unheeded from her hands again. It was the house that had been empty, years ago. |
| 7445 |
When he had dined, she could see them, through the open windows, go down with their governess or nurse, and cluster round the table; and in the still summer weather, the sound of their childish voices and clear laughter would come ringing across the street, into the drooping air of the room in which she sat. |
| 7446 |
Though still she would turn, again and again, before going to bed herself from the simple air that had lulled him to rest so often, long ago, and from the other low soft broken strain of music, back to that house. But that she ever thought of it, or watched it, was a secret which she kept within her own young breast. |
| 7447 |
When no one in the house was stirring, and the lights were all extinguished, she would softly leave her own room, and with noiseless feet descend the staircase, and approach her father's door. Against it, scarcely breathing, she would rest her face and head, and press her lips, in the yearning of her love. |
| 7448 |
It was a wet night; and the melancholy rain fell pattering and dropping with a weary sound. A sluggish wind was blowing, and went moaning round the house, as if it were in pain or grief. A shrill noise quivered through the trees. While she sat weeping, it grew late, and dreary midnight tolled out from the steeples. |
| 7449 |
The glowing love within the breast of his young daughter froze before it, and she stood and looked at him as if stricken into stone. There was not one touch of tenderness or pity in it. There was not one gleam of interest, parental recognition, or relenting in it. There was a change in it, but not of that kind. |
| 7450 |
Let him remember it in that room, years to come. It has faded from the air, before he breaks the silence. It may pass as quickly from his brain, as he believes, but it is there. Let him remember it in that room, years to come! He took her by the arm. His hand was cold, and loose, and scarcely closed upon her. |
| 7451 |
More than this, they passed into the shop, and passed in at the parlour door before they were observed by anybody but the Midshipman. And Walter, having his back to the door, would have known nothing of their apparition even then, but for seeing his Uncle spring out of his own chair, and nearly tumble over another. |
| 7452 |
Be this as it may, the visitors had a coach in waiting at a quiet corner not far off; and the chronometer, on being incidentally referred to, gave such a positive opinion that it had been waiting a long time, that it was impossible to doubt the fact, especially when stated on such unimpeachable authority. |
| 7453 |
He was a man of the world, and knew some great people. He talked much, and told stories; and Mr Dombey was disposed to regard him as a choice spirit who shone in society, and who had not that poisonous ingredient of poverty with which choice spirits in general are too much adulterated. His station was undeniable. |
| 7454 |
During the bustle of preparation at the railway, Mr Dombey and the Major walked up and down the platform side by side; the former taciturn and gloomy, and the latter entertaining him, or entertaining himself, with a variety of anecdotes and reminiscences, in most of which Joe Bagstock was the principal performer. |
| 7455 |
Because he knew full well, in his own breast, as he stood there, tinging the scene of transition before him with the morbid colours of his own mind, and making it a ruin and a picture of decay, instead of hopeful change, and promise of better things, that life had quite as much to do with his complainings as death. |
| 7456 |
Nor did the Major improve it at the Royal Hotel, where rooms and dinner had been ordered, and where he so oppressed his organs of speech by eating and drinking, that when he retired to bed he had no voice at all, except to cough with, and could only make himself intelligible to the dark servant by gasping at him. |
| 7457 |
In this manner the Major and Mr Dombey were walking arm in arm, much to their own satisfaction, when they beheld advancing towards them, a wheeled chair, in which a lady was seated, indolently steering her carriage by a kind of rudder in front, while it was propelled by some unseen power in the rear. |
| 7458 |
After meeting them thus, three or four times in all, it became a point of mere civility to old acquaintances that the Major should go there one evening. Mr Dombey had not originally intended to pay visits, but on the Major announcing this intention, he said he would have the pleasure of accompanying him. |
| 7459 |
On their way upstairs they had heard the sound of a harp, but it had ceased on their being announced, and Edith now stood beside it handsomer and haughtier than ever. It was a remarkable characteristic of this lady's beauty that it appeared to vaunt and assert itself without her aid, and against her will. |
| 7460 |
He had little taste for music, and no knowledge of the strain she played, but he saw her bending over it, and perhaps he heard among the sounding strings some distant music of his own, that tamed the monster of the iron road, and made it less inexorable. Cleopatra had a sharp eye, verily, at picquet. |
| 7461 |
And although it is not among the instincts wild or domestic of the cat tribe to play at cards, feline from sole to crown was Mr Carker the Manager, as he basked in the strip of summer light and warmth that shone upon his table and the ground as if they were a crooked dial plate, and himself the only figure on it. |
| 7462 |
Then a short gallop; it Was all one to the boy. Whenever Mr Carker turned his eyes to that side of the road, he still saw Toodle Junior holding his course, apparently without distress, and working himself along by the elbows after the most approved manner of professional gentlemen who get over the ground for wagers. |
| 7463 |
But again becoming conscious, after trotting a short distance, that his devoted henchman, girt as before, was yielding him the same attendance, to the great amusement of sundry spectators, he reined up, and ordered him off. To ensure his obedience, he turned in the saddle and watched him as he retired. |
| 7464 |
Fired with a noble emulation to pursue a brilliant and distinguished career, Mr Toots had furnished a choice set of apartments; had established among them a sporting bower, embellished with the portraits of winning horses, in which he took no particle of interest; and a divan, which made him poorly. |
| 7465 |
Patterns of carpets faded and became perplexed and faint, like the memory of those years' trifling incidents. Boards, starting at unwonted footsteps, creaked and shook. Keys rusted in the locks of doors. Damp started on the walls, and as the stains came out, the pictures seemed to go in and secrete themselves. |
| 7466 |
Mildew and mould began to lurk in closets. Fungus trees grew in corners of the cellars. Dust accumulated, nobody knew whence nor how; spiders, moths, and grubs were heard of every day. An exploratory blackbeetle now and then was found immovable upon the stairs, or in an upper room, as wondering how he got there. |
| 7467 |
Waking in the night, perhaps, she would tremble at the thought of his coming home and angrily rejecting it, and would hurry down with slippered feet and quickly beating heart, and bring it away. At another time, she would only lay her face upon his desk, and leave a kiss there, and a tear. Still no one knew of this. |
| 7468 |
And oh the desolation of the solitary house again, with evening coming on, and no one there! But there was one thought, scarcely shaped out to herself, yet fervent and strong within her, that upheld Florence when she strove and filled her true young heart, so sorely tried, with constancy of purpose. |
| 7469 |
While he was yet busy with these labours, the hackney coach, after encountering unheard of difficulties from swivel bridges, soft roads, impassable canals, caravans of casks, settlements of scarlet beans and little wash houses, and many such obstacles abounding in that country, stopped at the corner of Brig Place. |
| 7470 |
Altogether, he made such an effect on Captain Cuttle that the Captain lingered behind, and instructed Rob to be particularly gentle and attentive to his master until the morning: which injunction he strengthened with the payment of one shilling down, and the promise of another sixpence before noon next day. |
| 7471 |
Or, like a sound in air, the vibration of which, according to the speculation of an ingenious modern philosopher, may go on travelling for ever through the interminable fields of space, nothing but coming to the end of his moral tether could stop Sir Barnet Skettles in his voyage of discovery through the social system. |
| 7472 |
Florence was glad of that; for she had a study to pursue among them, and it lay too near her heart, and was too precious and momentous, to yield to any other interest. There were some children staying in the house. Children who were as frank and happy with fathers and with mothers as those rosy faces opposite home. |
| 7473 |
But true of heart and resolute in her good purpose, Florence held to it as her dying mother held by her upon the day that gave Paul life. He did not know how much she loved him. However long the time in coming, and however slow the interval, she must try to bring that knowledge to her father's heart one day or other. |
| 7474 |
She did so always. If a book were read aloud, and there were anything in the story that pointed at an unkind father, she was in pain for their application of it to him; not for herself. So with any trifle of an interlude that was acted, or picture that was shown, or game that was played, among them. |
| 7475 |
Florence pursued her study patiently, and, failing to acquire the secret of the nameless grace she sought, among the youthful company who were assembled in the house, often walked out alone, in the early morning, among the children of the poor. But still she found them all too far advanced to learn from. |
| 7476 |
Not a station house, or bone house, or work house in the metropolis escaped a visitation from the hard glazed hat. Along the wharves, among the shipping on the bank side, up the river, down the river, here, there, everywhere, it went gleaming where men were thickest, like the hero's helmet in an epic battle. |
| 7477 |
It being midday when the Major reached the bower of Cleopatra, he had the good fortune to find his Princess on her usual sofa, languishing over a cup of coffee, with the room so darkened and shaded for her more luxurious repose, that Withers, who was in attendance on her, loomed like a phantom page. |
| 7478 |
Though always somewhat formal, in his dress, in imitation of the great man whom he served, he stopped short of the extent of Mr Dombey's stiffness: at once perhaps because he knew it to be ludicrous, and because in doing so he found another means of expressing his sense of the difference and distance between them. |
| 7479 |
Mr Carker, whom the lady was about to pass close, slinking against his tree as she crossed to gain the path, advanced so as to meet her, and pulling off his hat as she went by, bade the old woman hold her peace. The lady acknowledged his interference with an inclination of the head, and went her way. |
| 7480 |
Standing together, arm in arm, they had the appearance of being more divided than if seas had rolled between them. There was a difference even in the pride of the two, that removed them farther from each other, than if one had been the proudest and the other the humblest specimen of humanity in all creation. |
| 7481 |
Mr Carker, who possessed an excellent discretion, never took the liberty of addressing that lady, direct; but she seemed to listen, though she never looked at him; and once or twice, when he was emphatic in his peculiar humility, the twilight smile stole over her face, not as a light, but as a deep black shadow. |
| 7482 |
So it continued to be while the drawing was laid aside for Mr Dombey, and while the sketching materials were put up; then he handed in the pencils (which were received with a distant acknowledgment of his help, but without a look), and tightening his rein, fell back, and followed the carriage again. |
| 7483 |
The mother, trifling with her fan, looked stealthily at the daughter more than once, but the daughter, brooding gloomily with downcast eyes, was not to be disturbed. Thus they remained for a long hour, without a word, until Mrs Skewton's maid appeared, according to custom, to prepare her gradually for night. |
| 7484 |
I gave it to him. When he would have me show one of them, to justify his purchase to his men, I require of him to say which he demands, and I exhibit it. I will do no more. He makes the purchase of his own will, and with his own sense of its worth, and the power of his money; and I hope it may never disappoint him. |
| 7485 |
The maid who should have been a skeleton, then reappeared, and giving one arm to her mistress, who appeared to have taken off her manner with her charms, and to have put on paralysis with her flannel gown, collected the ashes of Cleopatra, and carried them away in the other, ready for tomorrow's revivification. |
| 7486 |
It is so difficult for the young and ardent, even with such experience as hers, to imagine youth and ardour quenched like a weak flame, and the bright day of life merging into night, at noon, that hope was strong yet. Her tears fell frequently for Walter's sufferings; but rarely for his supposed death, and never long. |
| 7487 |
The holiday time was past and over; most of the juvenile guests at the villa had taken their departure; and Florence's long visit was come to an end. There was one guest, however, albeit not resident within the house, who had been very constant in his attentions to the family, and who still remained devoted to them. |
| 7488 |
His little history was associated with the old house too, and gave it a new claim and hold upon her heart. Even Susan Nipper softened towards the home of so many years, as they were on their way towards it. Gloomy as it was, and rigid justice as she rendered to its gloom, she forgave it a great deal. |
| 7489 |
Her own room was not yet touched within, but there were beams and boards raised against it without, baulking the daylight. She went up swiftly to that other bedroom, where the little bed was; and a dark giant of a man with a pipe in his mouth, and his head tied up in a pocket handkerchief, was staring in at the window. |
| 7490 |
There was a short silence. The beautiful lady, who at first had seemed to hesitate whether or no she should advance to Florence, held her to her breast, and pressed the hand with which she clasped her, close about her waist, as if to reassure her and comfort her. Not one word passed the lady's lips. |
| 7491 |
She fell into a softened remembrance of meadows, in old time, gleaming with buttercups, like so many inverted firmaments of golden stars; and how she had made chains of dandelion stalks for youthful vowers of eternal constancy, dressed chiefly in nankeen; and how soon those fetters had withered and broken. |
| 7492 |
Miss Tox filled a little green watering pot from a jug, and happening to look up when she had done so, was so surprised by the amount of expression Mrs Chick had conveyed into her face, and was bestowing upon her, that she put the little watering pot on the table for the present, and sat down near it. |
| 7493 |
A variety of requisites in plate and china being also conveyed to the same establishment from the same convenient source, with several miscellaneous articles, including a neat chariot and a pair of bays, Mrs Skewton cushioned herself on the principal sofa, in the Cleopatra attitude, and held her court in fair state. |
| 7494 |
Mr Dombey was far from quarrelling, in his own breast, with the manner of his beautiful betrothed. He had that good reason for sympathy with haughtiness and coldness, which is found In a fellow feeling. It flattered him to think how these deferred to him, in Edith's case, and seemed to have no will apart from his. |
| 7495 |
He was serenely gracious to Florence when he did so; and Florence went to bed in a room within Edith's, so happy and hopeful, that she thought of her late self as if it were some other poor deserted girl who was to be pitied for her sorrow; and in her pity, sobbed herself to sleep. The week fled fast. |
| 7496 |
Sometimes Edith sat in the carriage when they went to make purchases; sometimes, when it was absolutely necessary, she went into the shops. But Mrs Skewton conducted the whole business, whatever it happened to be; and Edith looked on as uninterested and with as much apparent indifference as if she had no concern in it. |
| 7497 |
Mrs Skewton rang for candles as soon as the house door had closed upon him. With the candles appeared her maid, with the juvenile dress that was to delude the world to morrow. The dress had savage retribution in it, as such dresses ever have, and made her infinitely older and more hideous than her greasy flannel gown. |
| 7498 |
Which the housemaid says is very true. The pastry cook is hard at work in the funereal room in Brook Street, and the very tall young men are busy looking on. One of the very tall young men already smells of sherry, and his eyes have a tendency to become fixed in his head, and to stare at objects without seeing them. |
| 7499 |
Then there is a crowding and a whispering at the door, and the good lady enters, with a haughty step. There is no sign upon her face, of last night's suffering; there is no trace in her manner, of the woman on the bended knees, reposing her wild head, in beautiful abandonment, upon the pillow of the sleeping girl. |
| 7500 |
She will. So, from that day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do them part, they plight their troth to one another, and are married. In a firm, free hand, the Bride subscribes her name in the register, when they adjourn to the vestry. |
| 7501 |
She quite admits to herself the beauty of the bride, and her own comparatively feeble and faded attractions; but the stately image of Mr Dombey in his lilac waistcoat, and his fawn coloured pantaloons, is present to her mind, and Miss Tox weeps afresh, behind her veil, on her way home to Princess's Place. |
| 7502 |
Now, there are more congratulations on this happiest of days, and more company, though not much; and now they leave the drawing room, and range themselves at table in the dark brown dining room, which no confectioner can brighten up, let him garnish the exhausted negroes with as many flowers and love knots as he will. |
| 7503 |
He has an especial smile for the Bride, who very, very seldom meets it. Cousin Feenix rises, when the company have breakfasted, and the servants have left the room; and wonderfully young he looks, with his white wristbands almost covering his hands (otherwise rather bony), and the bloom of the champagne in his cheeks. |
| 7504 |
I congratulate my friend Dombey on his union with my lovely and accomplished relative who possesses every requisite to make a man happy; and I take the liberty of calling on you all, in point of fact, to congratulate both my friend Dombey and my lovely and accomplished relative, on the present occasion. |
| 7505 |
There is a general redness in the faces of the ladies; in the face of Mrs Perch particularly, who is joyous and beaming, and lifted so far above the cares of life, that if she were asked just now to direct a wayfarer to Ball's Pond, where her own cares lodge, she would have some difficulty in recalling the way. |
| 7506 |
A violent revulsion has taken place in the spirits of Mrs Perch, who is low on account of Mr Perch, and tells cook that she fears he is not so much attached to his home, as he used to be, when they were only nine in family. Mr Towlinson has a singing in his ears and a large wheel going round and round inside his head. |
| 7507 |
Florence shuts her book, and gruff Diogenes, who takes that for a signal, puts his paws upon her lap, and rubs his ears against her caressing hands. But Florence cannot see him plainly, in a little time, for there is a mist between her eyes and him, and her dead brother and dead mother shine in it like angels. |
| 7508 |
He foresaw that, once immured there, he was a lost man: his hat gone; Mrs MacStinger watchful of him day and night; reproaches heaped upon his head, before the infant family; himself the guilty object of suspicion and distrust; an ogre in the children's eyes, and in their mother's a detected traitor. |
| 7509 |
Sensible of the risk he ran, the Captain took leave of Rob, at those times, with the solemnity which became a man who might never return: exhorting him, in the event of his (the Captain's) being lost sight of, for a time, to tread in the paths of virtue, and keep the brazen instruments well polished. |
| 7510 |
The Captain got safe home again, and fell into the ordinary routine of his new life, without encountering any more direct alarm from the enemy, than was suggested to him by the daily bonnets in the street. But other subjects began to lay heavy on the Captain's mind. Walter's ship was still unheard of. |
| 7511 |
The Captain glanced, in passing through the outer counting house, at the desk where he knew poor Walter had been used to sit, now occupied by another young boy, with a face almost as fresh and hopeful as his on the day when they tapped the famous last bottle but one of the old Madeira, in the little back parlour. |
| 7512 |
Arrived at the wooden Midshipman's again, and sitting down in a corner of the dark shop, the Captain's indignation, strong as it was, could make no head against his grief. Passion seemed not only to do wrong and violence to the memory of the dead, but to be infected by death, and to droop and decline beside it. |
| 7513 |
Turn we our eyes upon two homes; not lying side by side, but wide apart, though both within easy range and reach of the great city of London. The first is situated in the green and wooded country near Norwood. It is not a mansion; it is of no pretensions as to size; but it is beautifully arranged, and tastefully kept. |
| 7514 |
It is a poor small house, barely and sparely furnished, but very clean; and there is even an attempt to decorate it, shown in the homely flowers trained about the porch and in the narrow garden. The neighbourhood in which it stands has as little of the country to recommend'it, as it has of the town. |
| 7515 |
While she was absent, and there was no one in the house, there approached it by a different way from that the brother had taken, a gentleman, a very little past his prime of life perhaps, but of a healthy florid hue, an upright presence, and a bright clear aspect, that was gracious and good humoured. |
| 7516 |
A certain skilful action of his fingers as he hummed some bars, and beat time on the seat beside him, seemed to denote the musician; and the extraordinary satisfaction he derived from humming something very slow and long, which had no recognisable tune, seemed to denote that he was a scientific one. |
| 7517 |
One don't see anything, one don't hear anything, one don't know anything; that's the fact. We go on taking everything for granted, and so we go on, until whatever we do, good, bad, or indifferent, we do from habit. Habit is all I shall have to report, when I am called upon to plead to my conscience, on my death bed. |
| 7518 |
It was so very long since any other visitor had crossed their threshold; it was so very long since any voice of apathy had made sad music in her ears; that the stranger's figure remained present to her, hours afterwards, when she sat at the window, plying her needle; and his words seemed newly spoken, again and again. |
| 7519 |
Once more she caught her arm, and covered her eyes with it; and then was gone. Gone into the deepening night, and howling wind, and pelting rain; urging her way on towards the mist enshrouded city where the blurred lights gleamed; and with her black hair, and disordered head gear, fluttering round her reckless face. |
| 7520 |
Glaring sullenly from time to time like the eye of a fierce beast half asleep, it revealed no objects that needed to be jealous of a better display. A heap of rags, a heap of bones, a wretched bed, two or three mutilated chairs or stools, the black walls and blacker ceiling, were all its winking brightness shone upon. |
| 7521 |
Then she took the candle again, and going round her, surveyed her from head to foot, making a low moaning all the time. Then she put the candle down, resumed her chair, and beating her hands together to a kind of weary tune, and rolling herself from side to side, continued moaning and wailing to herself. |
| 7522 |
She admired her daughter, and was afraid of her. Perhaps her admiration, such as it was, had originated long ago, when she first found anything that was beautiful appearing in the midst of the squalid fight of her existence. Perhaps her fear was referable, in some sort, to the retrospect she had so lately heard. |
| 7523 |
It was within an hour or so of midnight, when they left the regular streets behind them, and entered on the deeper gloom of that neutral ground where the house was situated. The town lay in the distance, lurid and lowering; the bleak wind howled over the open space; all around was black, wild, desolate. |
| 7524 |
The mother, who had plucked at her skirts again and again in vain, and had eyed the money lying on the threshold with an absorbing greed that seemed to concentrate her faculties upon it, would have prowled about, until the house was dark, and then groped in the mire on the chance of repossessing herself of it. |
| 7525 |
Florence had come down to the hall too, but did not advance: reserving her timid welcome until these nearer and dearer transports should subside. But the eyes of Edith sought her out, upon the threshold; and dismissing her sensitive parent with a slight kiss on the cheek, she hurried on to Florence and embraced her. |
| 7526 |
As Florence, trembling, raised it to her lips, she met his glance. The look was cold and distant enough, but it stirred her heart to think that she observed in it something more of interest than he had ever shown before. It even expressed a kind of faint surprise, and not a disagreeable surprise, at sight of her. |
| 7527 |
Was there reproach to him in the quiet figure and the mild eyes? Had he begun to her disregarded claims and did they touch him home at last, and waken him to some sense of his cruel injustice? There are yielding moments in the lives of the sternest and harshest men, though such men often keep their secret well. |
| 7528 |
Many succeeding days passed in like manner; except that there were numerous visits received and paid, and that Mrs Skewton held little levees in her own apartments, at which Major Bagstock was a frequent attendant, and that Florence encountered no second look from her father, although she saw him every day. |
| 7529 |
As for his home, she hoped it would become a better one, when its state of novelty and transition should be over; and for herself, thought little and lamented less. If none of the new family were particularly at home in private, it was resolved that Mrs Dombey at least should be at home in public, without delay. |
| 7530 |
Carrying out his character, this gentleman was very plainly dressed, in a wisp of cambric for a neckcloth, big shoes, a coat that was too loose for him, and a pair of trousers that were too spare; and mention being made of the Opera by Mrs Skewton, he said he very seldom went there, for he couldn't afford it. |
| 7531 |
Among these, a young lady of sixty five, remarkably coolly dressed as to her back and shoulders, who spoke with an engaging lisp, and whose eyelids wouldn't keep up well, without a great deal of trouble on her part, and whose manners had that indefinable charm which so frequently attaches to the giddiness of youth. |
| 7532 |
This good matron had been outraged in the first instance by not receiving an invitation to dinner. That blow partially recovered, she had gone to a vast expense to make such a figure before Mrs Dombey at home, as should dazzle the senses of that lady, and heap mortification, mountains high, on the head of Mrs Skewton. |
| 7533 |
Hardly anybody there, except the mild men, stayed, or went away, without considering himself or herself neglected and aggrieved by Mr Dombey or Mrs Dombey; and the speechless female in the black velvet hat was found to have been stricken mute, because the lady in the crimson velvet had been handed down before her. |
| 7534 |
The general dissatisfaction and discomfort so diffused itself, that the assembled footmen in the hall were as well acquainted with it as the company above. Nay, the very linkmen outside got hold of it, and compared the party to a funeral out of mourning, with none of the company remembered in the will. |
| 7535 |
She bent her glance upon him still; but, look as steadfast as she would, her haughty nostrils dilated, and her breath came somewhat deeper, and her lip would slightly curl, as he described that in his patron to which they must all bow down. He saw it; and though his expression did not change, she knew he saw it. |
| 7536 |
Therefore Mrs Skewton asked no questions, and showed no curiosity. Indeed, the peach velvet bonnet gave her sufficient occupation out of doors; for being perched on the back of her head, and the day being rather windy, it was frantic to escape from Mrs Skewton's company, and would be coaxed into no sort of compromise. |
| 7537 |
It was a tremendous sight to see this old woman in her finery leering and mincing at Death, and playing off her youthful tricks upon him as if he had been the Major; but an alteration in her mind that ensued on the paralytic stroke was fraught with as much matter for reflection, and was quite as ghastly. |
| 7538 |
These vents for their excitement found, they gradually closed about Mr Toodle again, and eyed him hard as he got through more bread and butter and tea; affecting, however, to have no further expectations of their own in reference to those viands, but to be conversing on foreign subjects, and whispering confidentially. |
| 7539 |
The Captain was troubled with a serious misgiving that he had done more harm than good, in short; and in his remorse and modesty he made the best atonement he could think of, by putting himself out of the way of doing any harm to anyone, and, as it were, throwing himself overboard for a dangerous person. |
| 7540 |
Captain Cuttle, also, as a man of business; took to keeping books. In these he entered observations on the weather, and on the currents of the waggons and other vehicles: which he observed, in that quarter, to set westward in the morning and during the greater part of the day, and eastward towards the evening. |
| 7541 |
His frequent reference to Miss Dombey was suspicious; but the Captain had a secret kindness for Mr Toots's apparent reliance on him, and forbore to decide against him for the present; merely eyeing him, with a sagacity not to be described, whenever he approached the subject that was nearest to his heart. |
| 7542 |
You hailed me first, along of a certain young lady, as you was chartered by. Now if you and me is to keep one another's company at all, that there young creetur's name must never be named nor referred to. I don't know what harm mayn't have been done by naming of it too free, afore now, and thereby I brings up short. |
| 7543 |
The Captain, for his part, was not ill pleased to occupy that position of patronage, and was exceedingly well satisfied by his own prudence and foresight. But rich as Captain Cuttle was in the latter quality, he received a surprise that same evening from a no less ingenuous and simple youth, than Rob the Grinder. |
| 7544 |
If I have, why don't you give me in charge, and try it? But to take away the character of a lad that's been a good servant to you, because he can't afford to stand in his own light for your good, what a injury it is, and what a bad return for faithful service! This is the way young coves is spiled and drove wrong. |
| 7545 |
In case the accompanying paper is not legally written, it matters very little, for there is no one interested but you and he, and my plain wish is, that if he is living he should have what little there may be, and if (as I fear) otherwise, that you should have it, Ned. You will respect my wish, I know. |
| 7546 |
The evil that is in it finds equally its means of growth and propagation in opposites. It draws support and life from sweets and bitters; bowed down before, or unacknowledged, it still enslaves the breast in which it has its throne; and, worshipped or rejected, is as hard a master as the Devil in dark fables. |
| 7547 |
But he turned even this against her. In his sullen and unwholesome brooding, the unhappy man, with a dull perception of his alienation from all hearts, and a vague yearning for what he had all his life repelled, made a distorted picture of his rights and wrongs, and justified himself with it against her. |
| 7548 |
Her very beauty softened natures that were obdurate to him, and insulted him with an unnatural triumph. It may have been that in all this there were mutterings of an awakened feeling in his breast, however selfishly aroused by his position of disadvantage, in comparison with what she might have made his life. |
| 7549 |
He saw her bosom throb, and saw her face flush and turn white. All this he could know, and did: but he could not know that one word was whispering in the deep recesses of her heart, to keep her quiet; and that the word was Florence. Blind idiot, rushing to a precipice! He thought she stood in awe of him. |
| 7550 |
If you will promise to forbear on your part, I will promise to forbear on mine. We are a most unhappy pair, in whom, from different causes, every sentiment that blesses marriage, or justifies it, is rooted out; but in the course of time, some friendship, or some fitness for each other, may arise between us. |
| 7551 |
There was no time to be lost in getting Cleopatra to any place recommended as being salutary; for, indeed, she seemed upon the wane, and turning of the earth, earthy. Without having undergone any decided second attack of her malady, the old woman seemed to have crawled backward in her recovery from the first. |
| 7552 |
And gentle Mr Toots, who wanders at a distance, looking wistfully towards the figure that he dotes upon, and has followed there, but cannot in his delicacy disturb at such a time, likewise hears the requiem of little Dombey on the waters, rising and falling in the lulls of their eternal madrigal in praise of Florence. |
| 7553 |
Bewildering emotions are awakened also by the sight of Florence, with whom every young gentleman immediately falls in love, again; except, as aforesaid, the bilious Bitherstone, who declines to do so, out of contradiction. Black jealousies of Mr Toots arise, and Briggs is of opinion that he ain't so very old after all. |
| 7554 |
Edith is beside her always, and keeps Florence away; and Florence, in her bed at night, trembles at the thought of death in such a shape, and often wakes and listens, thinking it has come. No one attends on her but Edith. It is better that few eyes should see her; and her daughter watches alone by the bedside. |
| 7555 |
It was a service of some months' duration, when early one morning, Rob opened the garden gate to Mr Dombey, who was come to breakfast with his master, by appointment. At the same moment his master himself came, hurrying forth to receive the distinguished guest, and give him welcome with all his teeth. |
| 7556 |
The parrot, swinging in the gilded hoop within her gaudy cage, attempted in vain to attract notice, for Carker was too observant of his visitor to heed her; and the visitor, abstracted in meditation, looked fixedly, not to say sullenly, over his stiff neckcloth, without raising his eyes from the table cloth. |
| 7557 |
And that I shall be under the very disagreeable necessity of making you the bearer of yet more unwelcome and explicit communications, if she has not the good sense and the proper feeling to adapt herself to my wishes, as the first Mrs Dombey did, and, I believe I may add, as any other lady in her place would. |
| 7558 |
Mr Carker, who was quite prepared for a cold reception, wrote upon a card that he must take the liberty of pressing for an interview, and that he would not be so bold as to do so, for the second time (this he underlined), if he were not equally sure of the occasion being sufficient for his justification. |
| 7559 |
It had been hard to feel in her deep heart what she had felt, and never know the happiness of one touch of response. But it was much more hard to be compelled to doubt either her father or Edith, so affectionate and dear to her, and to think of her love for each of them, by turns, with fear, distrust, and wonder. |
| 7560 |
With the same child's heart within her, as of old: even with the child's sweet timid eyes and clustering hair: Florence, as strange to her father in her early maiden bloom, as in her nursery time, crept down the staircase listening as she went, and drew near to his room. No one was stirring in the house. |
| 7561 |
The doors between it and the next were partly closed, and a screen was drawn before them; but there was a light there, and it shone upon the cornice of his bed. All was so very still that she could hear from his breathing that he was asleep. This gave her courage to pass round the screen, and look into his chamber. |
| 7562 |
It was as great a start to come upon his sleeping face as if she had not expected to see it. Florence stood arrested on the spot, and if he had awakened then, must have remained there. There was a cut upon his forehead, and they had been wetting his hair, which lay bedabbled and entangled on the pillow. |
| 7563 |
She had never seen his face in all her life, but hope had sunk within her, and her timid glance had dropped before its stern, unloving, and repelling harshness. As she looked upon it now, she saw it, for the first time, free from the cloud that had darkened her childhood. Calm, tranquil night was reigning in its stead. |
| 7564 |
Her Mama had not come to her room that night, which was one cause of her having sat late out of her bed. In her general uneasiness, no less than in her ardent longing to have somebody to speak to, and to break the spell of gloom and silence, Florence directed her steps towards the chamber where she slept. |
| 7565 |
I have dreamed that it is wounded, hunted, set upon by dogs, but that it stands at hay, and will not yield; no, that it cannot if it would; but that it is urged on to hate Her clenched hand tightened on the trembling arm she had in hers, and as she looked down on the alarmed and wondering face, frown subsided. |
| 7566 |
These words she said a score of times. Soon she grew calmer, and was full of pity for the tears of Florence, and for her waking at such untimely hours. And the day now dawning, with folded her in her arms and laid her down upon her bed, and, not lying down herself, sat by her, and bade her try to sleep. |
| 7567 |
So, in her sleep, she tried to reconcile the two together, and to show them that she loved them both, but could not do it, and her waking grief was part of her dreams. Edith, sitting by, looked down at the dark eyelashes lying wet on the flushed cheeks, and looked with gentleness and pity, for she knew the truth. |
| 7568 |
Among sundry minor alterations in Mr Carker's life and habits that began to take place at this time, none was more remarkable than the extraordinary diligence with which he applied himself to business, and the closeness with which he investigated every detail that the affairs of the House laid open to him. |
| 7569 |
It began to be said, among these shrewd observers, that Jem Carker, of Dombey's, was looking about him to see what he was worth; and that he was calling in his money at a good time, like the long headed fellow he was; and bets were even offered on the Stock Exchange that Jem was going to marry a rich widow. |
| 7570 |
Have I bought and sold with you, and helped you in my way of business, schoolboy, sneak, and what not, and do you tell me to go along? Could I raise a crowd of old company about you to morrow morning, that would follow you to ruin like copies of your own shadow, and do you turn on me with your bold looks! I'll go. |
| 7571 |
He saw many visitors; overlooked a number of documents; went in and out, to and from, sundry places of mercantile resort; and indulged in no more abstraction until the day's business was done. But, when the usual clearance of papers from his table was made at last, he fell into his thoughtful mood once more. |
| 7572 |
Yes. He saw her in his mind, exactly as she was. She bore him company with her pride, resentment, hatred, all as plain to him as her beauty; with nothing plainer to him than her hatred of him. He saw her sometimes haughty and repellent at his side, and some times down among his horse's feet, fallen and in the dust. |
| 7573 |
Ill assorted couple, unhappy in themselves and in each other, bound together by no tie but the manacle that joined their fettered hands, and straining that so harshly, in their shrinking asunder, that it wore and chafed to the bone, Time, consoler of affliction and softener of anger, could do nothing to help them. |
| 7574 |
Their pride, however different in kind and object, was equal in degree; and, in their flinty opposition, struck out fire between them which might smoulder or might blaze, as circumstances were, but burned up everything within their mutual reach, and made their marriage way a road of ashes. Let us be just to him. |
| 7575 |
Hear the magistrate or judge admonish the unnatural outcasts of society; unnatural in brutal habits, unnatural in want of decency, unnatural in losing and confounding all distinctions between good and evil; unnatural in ignorance, in vice, in recklessness, in contumacy, in mind, in looks, in everything. |
| 7576 |
Those who study the physical sciences, and bring them to bear upon the health of Man, tell us that if the noxious particles that rise from vitiated air were palpable to the sight, we should see them lowering in a dense black cloud above such haunts, and rolling slowly on to corrupt the better portions of a town. |
| 7577 |
Through six months that ensued upon his accident, they held the same relations one towards the other. A marble rock could not have stood more obdurately in his way than she; and no chilled spring, lying uncheered by any ray of light in the depths of a deep cave, could be more sullen or more cold than he. |
| 7578 |
They all deplored the uncomfortable state of affairs, and all agreed that Mrs Pipchin (whose unpopularity was not to be surpassed) had some hand in it; but, upon the whole, it was agreeable to have so good a subject for a rallying point, and they made a great deal of it, and enjoyed themselves very much. |
| 7579 |
The shaken diamonds in her hair started and trembled. There are fables of precious stones that would turn pale, their wearer being in danger. Had these been such, their imprisoned rays of light would have taken flight that moment, and they would have been as dull as lead. Carker listened, with his eyes cast down. |
| 7580 |
Her father went out alone, that evening, and Florence issuing from her own chamber soon afterwards, went about the house in search of. Edith, but unavailingly. She was in her own rooms, where Florence had long ceased to go, and did not dare to venture now, lest she should unconsciously engender new trouble. |
| 7581 |
He went down quietly, opened the door for himself, glided out, and shut it softly after him. Her invincible repugnance to this man, and perhaps the stealthy act of watching anyone, which, even under such innocent circumstances, is in a manner guilty and oppressive, made Florence shake from head to foot. |
| 7582 |
But she remained in her own chamber, and Florence saw nothing of her. Learning, however, that the projected dinner at home was put off, Florence thought it likely that she would go out in the evening to fulfil the engagement she had spoken of; and resolved to try and meet her, then, upon the staircase. |
| 7583 |
What indistinct and shadowy dread moved Florence to this resolution, she did not know, and did not dare to think. She only knew that until Edith came back, there was no repose for her aching head or throbbing heart. The evening deepened into night; midnight came; no Edith. Florence could not read, or rest a moment. |
| 7584 |
Two o'clock. No Edith! Florence, more agitated, paced her room; and paced the gallery outside; and looked out at the night, blurred and wavy with the raindrops on the glass, and the tears in her own eyes; and looked up at the hurry in the sky, so different from the repose below, and yet so tranquil and solitary. |
| 7585 |
Stealing lower down the stairs, and observing what passed, she saw her father come out in his morning gown, and start when he was told his wife had not come home. He dispatched a messenger to the stables to inquire whether the coachman was there; and while the man was gone, dressed himself very hurriedly. |
| 7586 |
This was the room in which he had seen, in yonder mirror, the proud face discard him. This was the room in which he had wondered, idly, how these things would look when he should see them next! Heaping them back into the drawers, and locking them up in a rage of haste, he saw some papers on the table. |
| 7587 |
Compassion for her father was the first distinct emotion that made head against the flood of sorrow which overwhelmed her. Her constant nature turned to him in his distress, as fervently and faithfully, as if, in his prosperity, he had been the embodiment of that idea which had gradually become so faint and dim. |
| 7588 |
He was not long away; for Florence was yet weeping in the great room and nourishing these thoughts, when she heard him come back. He ordered the servants to set about their ordinary occupations, and went into his own apartment, where he trod so heavily that she could hear him walking up and down from end to end. |
| 7589 |
Wringing her hands and weeping bitterly, insensible to everything but the deep wound in her breast, stunned by the loss of all she loved, left like the sole survivor on a lonely shore from the wreck of a great vessel, she fled without a thought, without a hope, without a purpose, but to fly somewhere anywhere. |
| 7590 |
Nearer yet, and the door stood open, inviting her to enter. Florence, who had again quickened her pace, as she approached the end of her journey, ran across the road (closely followed by Diogenes, whom the bustle had somewhat confused), ran in, and sank upon the threshold of the well remembered little parlour. |
| 7591 |
The door still had an attraction for him at intervals; and he went snuffing about it, and growling to himself, unable to forget the subject. This incident, coupled with the Captain's observation of Florence's fatigue and faintness, decided him to prepare Sol Gills's chamber as a place of retirement for her immediately. |
| 7592 |
Having darkened the window, and straightened the pieces of carpet on the floor, the Captain surveyed these preparations with great delight, and descended to the little parlour again, to bring Florence to her bower. Nothing would induce the Captain to believe that it was possible for Florence to walk upstairs. |
| 7593 |
The state of my feelings towards Miss Dombey is of that unspeakable description, that my heart is a desert island, and she lives in it alone. I'm getting more used up every day, and I'm proud to be so. If you could see my legs when I take my boots off, you'd form some idea of what unrequited affection is. |
| 7594 |
She only knew that she had no Father upon earth, and she said so, many times, with her suppliant head hidden from all, but her Father who was in Heaven. Her little stock of money amounted to but a few guineas. With a part of this, it would be necessary to buy some clothes, for she had none but those she wore. |
| 7595 |
The Captain was quite disheartened for the moment, but he revived at the first touch of Florence's arm, and they returned with the same precautions as they had come; the Captain opening the door of the little Midshipman's berth, and diving in, with a suddenness which his great practice only could have taught him. |
| 7596 |
Florence raised her lips to his face, and kissed him. At any other time the Captain would have been overbalanced by such a token of her affection and gratitude; but now, although he was very sensible of it, he looked in her face with even more uneasiness than he had testified before, and seemed unwilling to leave her. |
| 7597 |
In the last lingering natural aspect in which she had cherished him through so much, he had been torn out of her heart, defaced, and slain. The thought of it was so appalling to her, that she covered her eyes, and shrunk trembling from the least remembrance of the deed, or of the cruel hand that did it. |
| 7598 |
She dared not look into the glass; for the sight of the darkening mark upon her bosom made her afraid of herself, as if she bore about her something wicked. She covered it up, with a hasty, faltering hand, and in the dark; and laid her weary head down, weeping. The Captain did not go to bed for a long time. |
| 7599 |
But Florence drooped and hung her head more and more plainly, as the days went on; and the expression that had been seen in the face of the dead child, was often turned to the sky from her high window, as if it sought his angel out, on the bright shore of which he had spoken: lying on his little bed. |
| 7600 |
When the evening closed in, he was always there, and that was her happiest time, for then she half believed that the old Walter of her childhood was not changed. But, even then, some trivial word, look, or circumstance would show her that there was an indefinable division between them which could not be passed. |
| 7601 |
She believed she knew now what the cause of his estrangement was, and she thought it would be a relief to her full heart, and would set him more at ease, if she told him she had found it out, and quite submitted to it, and did not reproach him. It was on a certain Sunday afternoon, that Florence took this resolution. |
| 7602 |
I would have told you that it was the only claim that you could give me to defend and guard you, which I dare accept and dare assert; but that if I had that right, I would regard it as a trust so precious and so priceless, that the undivided truth and fervour of my life would poorly acknowledge its worth. |
| 7603 |
Does he suppose she has come home, and is leading her old life in the weary house? No one can answer for him. He has never uttered her name, since. His household dread him too much to approach a subject on which he is resolutely dumb; and the only person who dares question him, he silences immediately. |
| 7604 |
He goes on, without deviation, keeping his thoughts and feelings close within his own breast, and imparting them to no one. He makes no search for his daughter. He may think that she is with his sister, or that she is under his own roof. He may think of her constantly, or he may never think about her. |
| 7605 |
But this is sure; he does not think that he has lost her. He has no suspicion of the truth. He has lived too long shut up in his towering supremacy, seeing her, a patient gentle creature, in the path below it, to have any fear of that. Shaken as he is by his disgrace, he is not yet humbled to the level earth. |
| 7606 |
They are generally of opinion that it will be shorn of some of its emoluments, and made uncomfortable by newly devised checks and restrictions; and those who are beyond all hope of it are quite sure they would rather not have it, and don't at all envy the person for whom it may prove to be reserved. |
| 7607 |
But a few days had elapsed since Mr Dombey had told Major Bagstock of his singular intelligence, singularly obtained, which might turn out to be valueless, and might turn out to be true; and the world was not satisfied yet. The mother and daughter sat for a long time without interchanging a word: almost without motion. |
| 7608 |
Some few attempts at cleanliness and order were manifest, though made in a reckless, gipsy way, that might have connected them, at a glance, with the younger woman. The shades of evening thickened and deepened as the two kept silence, until the blackened walls were nearly lost in the prevailing gloom. |
| 7609 |
It twisted and pulled at the wires of its cage, with its crooked beak, and crawled up to the dome, and along its roof like a fly, and down again head foremost, and shook, and bit, and rattled at every slender bar, as if it knew its master's danger, and was wild to force a passage out, and fly away to warn him of it. |
| 7610 |
Prying and tormenting as the world was, it did Mr Dombey the service of nerving him to pursuit and revenge. It roused his passion, stung his pride, twisted the one idea of his life into a new shape, and made some gratification of his wrath, the object into which his whole intellectual existence resolved itself. |
| 7611 |
While he was yet uninformed of the traitor's retreat, it served to divert his mind from his own calamity, and to entertain it with another prospect. The brother and sister of his false favourite had no such relief; everything in their history, past and present, gave his delinquency a more afflicting meaning to them. |
| 7612 |
No idea of retort upon his cruel brother came into his mind. New accusation of himself, fresh inward lamentings over his own unworthiness, and the ruin in which it was at once his consolation and his self reproach that he did not stand alone, were the sole kind of reflections to which the discovery gave rise in him. |
| 7613 |
When he does, dear John, let me tell him that I have at last spoken to you, and let me bring you together. He will certainly help us to a new livelihood. His entreaty was that he might do something to smooth my life and yours; and I gave him my promise that if we ever wanted a friend, I would remember him. |
| 7614 |
However, it was agreed between them that he should see the original when he next appeared. This concluded, the sister applied herself, with a less anxious breast, to her domestic occupations; and the grey haired man, late Junior of Dombey's, devoted the first day of his unwonted liberty to working in the garden. |
| 7615 |
It was quite late at night, and the brother was reading aloud while the sister plied her needle, when they were interrupted by a knocking at the door. In the atmosphere of vague anxiety and dread that lowered about them in connexion with their fugitive brother, this sound, unusual there, became almost alarming. |
| 7616 |
In the midst of the many transactions of the House, in most parts of the world: a great labyrinth of which only he has held the clue: he has had the opportunity, and he seems to have used it, of keeping the various results afloat, when ascertained, and substituting estimates and generalities for facts. |
| 7617 |
Nor was it to be driven out, nor did it fade before the sun. Next morning it was there; at noon; at night Darkest and most distinct at night, as is now to be told. John Carker had gone out, in pursuance of a letter of appointment from their friend, and Harriet was left in the house alone. She had been alone some hours. |
| 7618 |
She arose before they had finished, and taking a lamp, passed into the bed chamber and into the drawing room, where she hurriedly but narrowly examined all the doors; particularly one in the former room that opened on the passage in the wall. From this she took the key, and put it on the outer side. |
| 7619 |
The hot dishes were on a chafing dish; the cold already set forth, with the change of service on a sideboard. Monsieur was satisfied with this arrangement. The supper table being small, it pleased him very well. Let them set the chafing dish upon the floor, and go. He would remove the dishes with his own hands. |
| 7620 |
I have not had an accomplishment or grace that might have been a resource to me, but it has been paraded and vended to enhance my value, as if the common crier had called it through the streets. My poor, proud friends, have looked on and approved; and every tie between us has been deadened in my breast. |
| 7621 |
Spurned like any reptile; entrapped and mocked; turned upon, and trodden down by the proud woman whose mind he had slowly poisoned, as he thought, until she had sunk into the mere creature of his pleasure; undeceived in his deceit, and with his fox's hide stripped off, he sneaked away, abashed, degraded, and afraid. |
| 7622 |
It was not gone, it never had been there, yet what a startling horror it had left behind. He raised his wicked face so full of trouble, to the night sky, where the stars, so full of peace, were shining on him as they had been when he first stole out into the air; and stopped to think what he should do. |
| 7623 |
Thus, he stole on to the gate of an inn yard. The people were a bed; but his ringing at the bell soon produced a man with a lantern, in company with whom he was presently in a dim coach house, bargaining for the hire of an old phaeton, to Paris. The bargain was a short one; and the horses were soon sent for. |
| 7624 |
As he paused, with some such suggestion within him, looking over the gloomy flat where the slender trees marked out the way, again that flight of Death came rushing up, again went on, impetuous and resistless, again was nothing but a horror in his mind, dark as the scene and undefined as its remotest verge. |
| 7625 |
At last the ringing of horses' bells greeted his anxious ears. Now softer, and now louder, now inaudible, now ringing very slowly over bad ground, now brisk and merry, it came on; until with a loud shouting and lashing, a shadowy postillion muffled to the eyes, checked his four struggling horses at his side. |
| 7626 |
Sometimes that rush which was so furious and horrible, again came sweeping through his fancy, passed away, and left a chill upon his blood. The lamps, gleaming on the medley of horses' heads, jumbled with the shadowy driver, and the fluttering of his cloak, made a thousand indistinct shapes, answering to his thoughts. |
| 7627 |
Of blighting everything with his black mood as he was carried on and away. It was a fevered vision of things past and present all confounded together; of his life and journey blended into one. Of being madly hurried somewhere, whither he must go. Of old scenes starting up among the novelties through which he travelled. |
| 7628 |
A vision of tending on at last, towards the distant capital, by busier roads, and sweeping round, by old cathedrals, and dashing through small towns and villages, less thinly scattered on the road than formerly, and sitting shrouded in his corner, with his cloak up to his face, as people passing by looked at him. |
| 7629 |
Of the gradual subsidence of that noise as he passed out in another carriage by a different barrier from that by which he had entered. Of the restoration, as he travelled on towards the seacoast, of the monotony of bells and wheels, and horses' feet, and no rest. Of sunset once again, and nightfall. |
| 7630 |
Of receding from the coast, and looking back upon it from the deck when it was a haze upon the water, with here and there a little opening of bright land where the Sun struck. Of the swell, and flash, and murmur of the calm sea. Of another grey line on the ocean, on the vessel's track, fast growing clearer and higher. |
| 7631 |
Only one house, newly built or altered for the purpose, stood there, surrounded by its neat garden; the small town that was nearest, was some miles away. Here he alighted then; and going straight into the tavern, unobserved by anyone, secured two rooms upstairs communicating with each other, and sufficiently retired. |
| 7632 |
She stood there, with her dark disdainful eyes again upon him; and he was riding on nevertheless, through town and country, light and darkness, wet weather and dry, over road and pavement, hill and valley, height and hollow, jaded and scared by the monotony of bells and wheels, and horses' feet, and no rest. |
| 7633 |
No oblivion, and no rest. How long he sat, drinking and brooding, and being dragged in imagination hither and thither, no one could have told less correctly than he. But he knew that he had been sitting a long time by candle light, when he started up and listened, in a sudden terror. For now, indeed, it was no fancy. |
| 7634 |
There was a heavy dew; and, hot as he was, it made him shiver. After a glance at the place where he had walked last night, and at the signal lights burning in the morning, and bereft of their significance, he turned to where the sun was rising, and beheld it, in its glory, as it broke upon the scene. |
| 7635 |
Them as should have loved and tended of her, treated of her like the beasts as perish. When she, cast out of home, come here to me, and dropped upon them planks, her wownded heart was broke. I know it. I, Ed'ard Cuttle, see it. There's nowt but true, kind, steady love, as can ever piece it up again. |
| 7636 |
The cruel mark was on her bosom yet. It rose against her father with the breath she drew, it lay between her and her lover when he pressed her to his heart. But she forgot it. In the beating of that heart for her, and in the beating of her own for him, all harsher music was unheard, all stern unloving hearts forgotten. |
| 7637 |
This, however, was not his habit: for he generally got on very well, by dint of playing at cribbage with the Captain under the advice and guidance of Miss Nipper, and distracting his mind with the calculations incidental to the game; which he found to be a very effectual means of utterly confounding himself. |
| 7638 |
But so far was this city church from languishing for the company of other churches, that spires were clustered round it, as the masts of shipping cluster on the river. It would have been hard to count them from its steeple top, they were so many. In almost every yard and blind place near, there was a church. |
| 7639 |
Mr Toots was taking counsel as to his hand, of Susan Nipper. Miss Nipper was giving it, with all due secrecy and circumspection. Diogenes was listening, and occasionally breaking out into a gruff half smothered fragment of a bark, of which he afterwards seemed half ashamed, as if he doubted having any reason for it. |
| 7640 |
Arrived at home, instead of leaving Mr Toots in his apartments when he had escorted him thither, he remained before him weighing his white hat in both hands by the brim, and twitching his head and nose (both of which had been many times broken, and but indifferently repaired), with an air of decided disrespect. |
| 7641 |
There are dusty old sounding boards over the pulpit and reading desk, looking like lids to be let down on the officiating ministers in case of their giving offence. There is every possible provision for the accommodation of dust, except in the churchyard, where the facilities in that respect are very limited. |
| 7642 |
There is no bridesmaid, unless Susan Nipper is one; and no better father than Captain Cuttle. A man with a wooden leg, chewing a faint apple and carrying a blue bag in has hand, looks in to see what is going on; but finding it nothing entertaining, stumps off again, and pegs his way among the echoes out of doors. |
| 7643 |
But Susan cannot bear that Florence should go away with a mournful recollection of her. She had meant to be so different, that she reproaches herself bitterly. Intent on making one last effort to redeem her character, she breaks from Mr Toots and runs away to find the coach, and show a parting smile. |
| 7644 |
Mr Toots says, after breakfast, he will come back in the evening; and goes wandering about the town all day, with a vague sensation upon him as if he hadn't been to bed for a fortnight. There is a strange charm in the house, and in the room, in which they have been used to be together, and out of which so much is gone. |
| 7645 |
Mrs Chick had three ideas upon the subject of the terrible reverse. The first was that she could not understand it. The second, that her brother had not made an effort. The third, that if she had been invited to dinner on the day of that first party, it never would have happened; and that she had said so, at the time. |
| 7646 |
He is a gentleman of high honour and integrity. Any man in his position could, and many a man in his position would, have saved himself, by making terms which would have very slightly, almost insensibly, increased the losses of those who had had dealings with him, and left him a remnant to live upon. |
| 7647 |
He has written me a letter, acknowledging our past connexion in higher terms than it deserved, and parting from me. I am delicate of obtruding myself upon him now, never having had much intercourse with him in better times; but I have tried to do so. I have written, gone there, entreated. Quite in vain. |
| 7648 |
At the garden gate of one of these he stopped, and Harriet alighted. Her gentle ringing at the bell was responded to by a dolorous looking woman, of light complexion, with raised eyebrows, and head drooping on one side, who curtseyed at sight of her, and conducted her across the garden to the house. |
| 7649 |
This is the end. Mrs Wickam having clinked sufficiently among the bottles, now produced the mixture. Mrs Wickam looked hard at her patient in the act of drinking, screwed her mouth up tight, her eyebrows also, and shook her head, expressing that tortures shouldn't make her say it was a hopeless case. |
| 7650 |
They never turned away. She laid her hand upon her breast, murmuring the sacred name that had been read to her; and life passed from her face, like light removed. Nothing lay there, any longer, but the ruin of the mortal house on which the rain had beaten, and the black hair that had fluttered in the wintry wind. |
| 7651 |
Changes have come again upon the great house in the long dull street, once the scene of Florence's childhood and loneliness. It is a great house still, proof against wind and weather, without breaches in the roof, or shattered windows, or dilapidated walls; but it is a ruin none the less, and the rats fly from it. |
| 7652 |
Chaotic combinations of furniture also take place. Mattresses and bedding appear in the dining room; the glass and china get into the conservatory; the great dinner service is set out in heaps on the long divan in the large drawing room; and the stair wires, made into fasces, decorate the marble chimneypieces. |
| 7653 |
Quiet, calculating spirits withdraw into the dressing rooms with catalogues, and make marginal notes thereon, with stumps of pencils. Two brokers invade the very fire escape, and take a panoramic survey of the neighbourhood from the top of the house. The swarm and buzz, and going up and down, endure for days. |
| 7654 |
The men with the carpet caps gather up their screw drivers and bed winches into bags, shoulder them, and walk off. One of the pen and ink gentlemen goes over the house as a last attention; sticking up bills in the windows respecting the lease of this desirable family mansion, and shutting the shutters. |
| 7655 |
Mrs Pipchin's wardrobe being handed in and stowed away, Mrs Pipchin's chair is next handed in, and placed in a convenient corner among certain trusses of hay; it being the intention of the amiable woman to occupy the chair during her journey. Mrs Pipchin herself is next handed in, and grimly takes her seat. |
| 7656 |
Oh! He did remember it! The rain that fell upon the roof, the wind that mourned outside the door that night, had had foreknowledge in their melancholy sound. He knew, now, what he had done. He knew, now, that he had called down that upon his head, which bowed it lower than the heaviest stroke of fortune. |
| 7657 |
His boy had faded into dust, his proud wife had sunk into a polluted creature, his flatterer and friend had been transformed into the worst of villains, his riches had melted away, the very walls that sheltered him looked on him as a stranger; she alone had turned the same mild gentle look upon him always. |
| 7658 |
But he always knew she would have been true to him, if he had suffered her. He always knew she would have loved him better now, than at any other time; he was as certain that it was in her nature, as he was that there was a sky above him; and he sat thinking so, in his loneliness, from hour to hour. |
| 7659 |
He came out of his solitude when it was the dead of night, and with a candle in his hand went softly up the stairs. Of all the footmarks there, making them as common as the common street, there was not one, he thought, but had seemed at the time to set itself upon his brain while he had kept close, listening. |
| 7660 |
He stopped, looking up towards the skylight; and a figure, childish itself, but carrying a child, and singing as it went, seemed to be there again. Anon, it was the same figure, alone, stopping for an instant, with suspended breath; the bright hair clustering loosely round its tearful face; and looking back at him. |
| 7661 |
Every night, within the knowledge of no human creature, he came forth, and wandered through the despoiled house like a ghost. Many a morning when the day broke, his altered face, drooping behind the closed blind in his window, imperfectly transparent to the light as yet, pondered on the loss of his two children. |
| 7662 |
It was one child no more. He reunited them in his thoughts, and they were never asunder. Oh, that he could have united them in his past love, and in death, and that one had not been so much worse than dead! Strong mental agitation and disturbance was no novelty to him, even before his late sufferings. |
| 7663 |
It never is, to obstinate and sullen natures; for they struggle hard to be such. Ground, long undermined, will often fall down in a moment; what was undermined here in so many ways, weakened, and crumbled, little by little, more and more, as the hand moved on the dial. At last he began to think he need not go at all. |
| 7664 |
Now it lifted up its head, examining the lines and hollows in its face; now hung it down again, and brooded afresh. Now it rose and walked about; now passed into the next room, and came back with something from the dressing table in its breast. Now, it was looking at the bottom of the door, and thinking. |
| 7665 |
What was it thinking? Whether they would tread in the blood when it crept so far, and carry it about the house among those many prints of feet, or even out into the street. It sat down, with its eyes upon the empty fireplace, and as it lost itself in thought there shone into the room a gleam of light; a ray of sun. |
| 7666 |
He will love and honour you as I will. We will teach our little child to love and honour you; and we will tell him, when he can understand, that you had a son of that name once, and that he died, and you were very sorry; but that he is gone to Heaven, where we all hope to see him when our time for resting comes. |
| 7667 |
Then, Miss Tox and Polly came out of their concealment, and exulted tearfully. And then they packed his clothes, and books, and so forth, with great care; and consigned them in due course to certain persons sent by Florence, in the evening, to fetch them. And then they took a last cup of tea in the lonely house. |
| 7668 |
In the wake, appeared Bunsby's boy, bearing umbrellas. The whole were in good marching order; and a dreadful smartness that pervaded the party would have sufficiently announced, if the intrepid countenances of the ladies had been wanting, that it was a procession of sacrifice, and that the victim was Bunsby. |
| 7669 |
The Captain made many attempts to accost the philosopher, if only in a monosyllable or a signal; but always failed, in consequence of the vigilance of the guard, and the difficulty, at all times peculiar to Bunsby's constitution, of having his attention aroused by any outward and visible sign whatever. |
| 7670 |
Mr Toots and his wife had, in fact, just arrived there; having been at the Midshipman's to seek him, and having there obtained the address. They were not so recently arrived, but that Mrs Toots had caught the baby from somebody, taken it in her arms, and sat down on the stairs, hugging and fondling it. |
| 7671 |
Her father's need of it was sore, and made the aid of her old friend invaluable. Death stood at his pillow. A shade, already, of what he had been, shattered in mind, and perilously sick in body, he laid his weary head down on the bed his daughter's hands prepared for him, and had never raised it since. |
| 7672 |
It seemed a great relief to him. He begged her not to go; to understand that he forgave her what she had said; and that she was to stay. Florence and he were very different now, he said, and very happy. Let her look at this! He meant his drawing the gentle head down to his pillow, and laying it beside him. |
| 7673 |
It was dimly pleasant to him now, to lie there, with the window open, looking out at the summer sky and the trees: and, in the evening, at the sunset. To watch the shadows of the clouds and leaves, and seem to feel a sympathy with shadows. It was natural that he should. To him, life and the world were nothing else. |
| 7674 |
Florence was sitting on a certain time by his window, with her work basket between her and her old attendant, who was still her faithful companion. He had fallen into a doze. It was a beautiful evening, with two hours of light to come yet; and the tranquillity and quiet made Florence very thoughtful. |
| 7675 |
In the pleasant little parlour opening on the garden, sat a gentleman, who rose to advance towards her when she came in, but turned off, by reason of some peculiarity in his legs, and was only stopped by the table. Florence then remembered Cousin Feenix, whom she had not at first recognised in the shade of the leaves. |
| 7676 |
Their ride was six or eight miles long. When they drove through certain dull and stately streets, lying westward in London, it was growing dusk. Florence had, by this time, put her hand in Walter's; and was looking very earnestly, and with increasing agitation, into every new street into which they turned. |
| 7677 |
Florence, after hesitating an instant, complied. Sitting by the window at a table, where she seemed to have been writing or drawing, was a lady, whose head, turned away towards the dying light, was resting on her hand. Florence advancing, doubtfully, all at once stood still, as if she had lost the power of motion. |
| 7678 |
It was the face of Florence, and through all the terrified avoidance it expressed, there was pity in it, sorrow, a grateful tender memory. On each face, wonder and fear were painted vividly; each so still and silent, looking at the other over the black gulf of the irrevocable past. Florence was the first to change. |
| 7679 |
My impression, certainly, has always been, that there was a mystery in the affair which she could explain if so inclined. But my lovely and accomplished relative being a devilish resolute woman, I knew that she was not, in point of fact, to be trifled with, and therefore did not involve myself in any discussions. |
| 7680 |
Other buried wine grows older, as the old Madeira did in its time; and dust and cobwebs thicken on the bottles. Mr Dombey is a white haired gentleman, whose face bears heavy marks of care and suffering; but they are traces of a storm that has passed on for ever, and left a clear evening in its track. |
| 7681 |
Buried wine grows older, as the old Madeira did, in its time; and dust and cobwebs thicken on the bottles. Autumn days are shining, and on the sea beach there are often a young lady, and a white haired gentleman. With them, or near them, are two children: boy and girl. And an old dog is generally in their company. |
| 7682 |
But no one, except Florence, knows the measure of the white haired gentleman's affection for the girl. That story never goes about. The child herself almost wonders at a certain secrecy he keeps in it. He hoards her in his heart. He cannot bear to see a cloud upon her face. He cannot bear to see her sit apart. |
| 7683 |
A sense of his injustice is within him, all along. The more he represses it, the more unjust he necessarily is. Internal shame and external circumstances may bring the contest to a close in a week, or a day; but, it has been a contest for years, and is only fought out after a long balance of victory. |
| 7684 |
A mighty man at cutting and drying, he was; a government officer; in his way (and in most other people's too), a professed pugilist; always in training, always with a system to force down the general throat like a bolus, always to be heard of at the bar of his little Public office, ready to fight all England. |
| 7685 |
He would go in and damage any subject whatever with his right, follow up with his left, stop, exchange, counter, bore his opponent (he always fought All England) to the ropes, and fall upon him neatly. He was certain to knock the wind out of common sense, and render that unlucky adversary deaf to the call of time. |
| 7686 |
He knew all about all the Water Sheds of all the world (whatever they are), and all the histories of all the peoples, and all the names of all the rivers and mountains, and all the productions, manners, and customs of all the countries, and all their boundaries and bearings on the two and thirty points of the compass. |
| 7687 |
I only use the word to express a monster in a lecturing castle, with Heaven knows how many heads manipulated into one, taking childhood captive, and dragging it into gloomy statistical dens by the hair. No little Gradgrind had ever seen a face in the moon; it was up in the moon before it could speak distinctly. |
| 7688 |
A calculated, cast up, balanced, and proved house. Six windows on this side of the door, six on that side; a total of twelve in this wing, a total of twelve in the other wing; four and twenty carried over to the back wings. A lawn and garden and an infant avenue, all ruled straight like a botanical accountbook. |
| 7689 |
He had a particular pride in the phrase eminently practical, which was considered to have a special application to him. Whatsoever the public meeting held in Coketown, and whatsoever the subject of such meeting, some Coketowner was sure to seize the occasion of alluding to his eminently practical friend Gradgrind. |
| 7690 |
That was the cot of my infancy; an old egg box. As soon as I was big enough to run away, of course I ran away. Then I became a young vagabond; and instead of one old woman knocking me about and starving me, everybody of all ages knocked me about and starved me. They were right; they had no business to do anything else. |
| 7691 |
It had a black canal in it, and a river that ran purple with ill smelling dye, and vast piles of building full of windows where there was a rattling and a trembling all day long, and where the piston of the steam engine worked monotonously up and down, like the head of an elephant in a state of melancholy madness. |
| 7692 |
His face, close shaven, thin, and sallow, was shaded by a great quantity of dark hair, brushed into a roll all round his head, and parted up the centre. His legs were very robust, but shorter than legs of good proportions should have been. His chest and back were as much too broad, as his legs were too short. |
| 7693 |
The only condition (over and above your good behaviour) I make is, that you decide now, at once, whether to accompany me or remain here. Also, that if you accompany me now, it is understood that you communicate no more with any of your friends who are here present. These observations comprise the whole of the case. |
| 7694 |
Mr. Gradgrind and his friend Bounderby stood near the door, ready to take her away. Mr. Sleary stood in the middle of the room, with the male members of the company about him, exactly as he would have stood in the centre of the ring during his daughter Josephine's performance. He wanted nothing but his whip. |
| 7695 |
Mr. Sleary was reserved until the last. Opening his arms wide he took her by both her hands, and would have sprung her up and down, after the riding master manner of congratulating young ladies on their dismounting from a rapid act; but there was no rebound in Sissy, and she only stood before him crying. |
| 7696 |
My latht wordth to you ith thith, Thtick to the termth of your engagement, be obedient to the Thquire, and forget uth. But if, when you're grown up and married and well off, you come upon any horthe riding ever, don't be hard upon it, don't be croth with it, give it a Bethpeak if you can, and think you might do wurth. |
| 7697 |
It was one of the most exasperating attributes of Bounderby, that he not only sang his own praises but stimulated other men to sing them. There was a moral infection of clap trap in him. Strangers, modest enough elsewhere, started up at dinners in Coketown, and boasted, in quite a rampant way, of Bounderby. |
| 7698 |
At the time when, to have been a tumbler in the mud of the streets, would have been a godsend to me, a prize in the lottery to me, you were at the Italian Opera. You were coming out of the Italian Opera, ma'am, in white satin and jewels, a blaze of splendour, when I hadn't a penny to buy a link to light you. |
| 7699 |
The name of that lady by the teapot, is Mrs. Sparsit. That lady acts as mistress of this house, and she is a highly connected lady. Consequently, if ever you come again into any room in this house, you will make a short stay in it if you don't behave towards that lady in your most respectful manner. |
| 7700 |
Body number one, said they must take everything on trust. Body number two, said they must take everything on political economy. Body number three, wrote leaden little books for them, showing how the good grown up baby invariably got to the Savings bank, and the bad grown up baby invariably got transported. |
| 7701 |
When I had no more left to tell, he put his arms round my neck, and kissed me a great many times. Then he asked me to fetch some of the stuff he used, for the little hurt he had had, and to get it at the best place, which was at the other end of town from there; and then, after kissing me again, he let me go. |
| 7702 |
Yet he was not. He took no place among those remarkable "Hands," who, piecing together their broken intervals of leisure through many years, had mastered difficult sciences, and acquired a knowledge of most unlikely things. He held no station among the Hands who could make speeches and carry on debates. |
| 7703 |
It was in one of the many small streets for which the favourite undertaker (who turned a handsome sum out of the one poor ghastly pomp of the neighbourhood) kept a black ladder, in order that those who had done their daily groping up and down the narrow stairs might slide out of this working world by the windows. |
| 7704 |
There was not a flutter of her coarse shawl, perhaps, but had its interest in this man's eyes; not a tone of her voice but had its echo in his innermost heart. When she was lost to his view, he pursued his homeward way, glancing up sometimes at the sky, where the clouds were sailing fast and wildly. |
| 7705 |
Stephen bent over his loom, quiet, watchful, and steady. A special contrast, as every man was in the forest of looms where Stephen worked, to the crashing, smashing, tearing piece of mechanism at which he laboured. Never fear, good people of an anxious turn of mind, that Art will consign Nature to oblivion. |
| 7706 |
The rain fell, and the Smoke serpents, submissive to the curse of all that tribe, trailed themselves upon the earth. In the waste yard outside, the steam from the escape pipe, the litter of barrels and old iron, the shining heaps of coals, the ashes everywhere, were shrouded in a veil of mist and rain. |
| 7707 |
With a large allowance for difference of tastes, and with all submission to the patricians of Coketown, this seemed so extraordinary a source of interest to take so much trouble about, that it perplexed him. But they were passing the church now, and as his eye caught the clock, he quickened his pace. |
| 7708 |
She turned her head, and the light of her face shone in upon the midnight of his mind. She sat by the bed, watching and tending his wife. That is to say, he saw that some one lay there, and he knew too well it must be she; but Rachael's hands had put a curtain up, so that she was screened from his eyes. |
| 7709 |
Her disgraceful garments were removed, and some of Rachael's were in the room. Everything was in its place and order as he had always kept it, the little fire was newly trimmed, and the hearth was freshly swept. It appeared to him that he saw all this in Rachael's face, and looked at nothing besides. |
| 7710 |
While looking at it, it was shut out from his view by the softened tears that filled his eyes; but not before he had seen how earnestly she looked at him, and how her own eyes were filled too. She turned again towards the bed, and satisfying herself that all was quiet there, spoke in a low, calm, cheerful voice. |
| 7711 |
The three legged table had been drawn close to the bedside, and on it there were two bottles. This was one. It was not so far off, but that Stephen, following her hands with his eyes, could read what was printed on it in large letters. He turned of a deadly hue, and a sudden horror seemed to fall upon him. |
| 7712 |
They stood in the daylight before a crowd so vast, that if all the people in the world could have been brought together into one space, they could not have looked, he thought, more numerous; and they all abhorred him, and there was not one pitying or friendly eye among the millions that were fastened on his face. |
| 7713 |
Wandering to and fro, unceasingly, without hope, and in search of he knew not what (he only knew that he was doomed to seek it), he was the subject of a nameless, horrible dread, a mortal fear of one particular shape which everything took. Whatsoever he looked at, grew into that form sooner or later. |
| 7714 |
The wind was blowing again, the rain was beating on the house tops, and the larger spaces through which he had strayed contracted to the four walls of his room. Saving that the fire had died out, it was as his eyes had closed upon it. Rachael seemed to have fallen into a doze, in the chair by the bed. |
| 7715 |
She sat wrapped in her shawl, perfectly still. The table stood in the same place, close by the bedside, and on it, in its real proportions and appearance, was the shape so often repeated. He thought he saw the curtain move. He looked again, and he was sure it moved. He saw a hand come forth and grope about a little. |
| 7716 |
All this time, as if a spell were on him, he was motionless and powerless, except to watch her. Stupidly dozing, or communing with her incapable self about nothing, she sat for a little while with her hands at her ears, and her head resting on them. Presently, she resumed her staring round the room. |
| 7717 |
She drew a mug into the bed, and sat for a while considering which of the two bottles she should choose. Finally, she laid her insensate grasp upon the bottle that had swift and certain death in it, and, before his eyes, pulled out the cork with her teeth. Dream or reality, he had no voice, nor had he power to stir. |
| 7718 |
She thought of that, too. She looked at Rachael, and very slowly, very cautiously, poured out the contents. The draught was at her lips. A moment and she would be past all help, let the whole world wake and come about her with its utmost power. But in that moment Rachael started up with a suppressed cry. |
| 7719 |
The few drops in the basin I'll pour away, for "tis bad stuff to leave about, though ever so little of it." As she spoke, she drained the basin into the ashes of the fire, and broke the bottle on the hearth. She had nothing to do, then, but to cover herself with her shawl before going out into the wind and rain. |
| 7720 |
You have been so well trained, and you do, I am happy to say, so much justice to the education you have received, that I have perfect confidence in your good sense. You are not impulsive, you are not romantic, you are accustomed to view everything from the strong dispassionate ground of reason and calculation. |
| 7721 |
Love was made on these occasions in the form of bracelets; and, on all occasions during the period of betrothal, took a manufacturing aspect. Dresses were made, jewellery was made, cakes and gloves were made, settlements were made, and an extensive assortment of Facts did appropriate honour to the contract. |
| 7722 |
There was such a thing sometimes, even in Coketown. Seen from a distance in such weather, Coketown lay shrouded in a haze of its own, which appeared impervious to the sun's rays. You only knew the town was there, because you knew there could have been no such sulky blotch upon the prospect without a town. |
| 7723 |
It had been ruined so often, that it was amazing how it had borne so many shocks. Surely there never was such fragile china ware as that of which the millers of Coketown were made. Handle them never so lightly, and they fell to pieces with such ease that you might suspect them of having been flawed before. |
| 7724 |
They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. |
| 7725 |
They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. |
| 7726 |
As he stood there, trying to quench his fiery face with his drink of water, the comparison between the orator and the crowd of attentive faces turned towards him, was extremely to his disadvantage. Judging him by Nature's evidence, he was above the mass in very little but the stage on which he stood. |
| 7727 |
Hear, hear! Hurrah! The eagerness both of attention and intention, exhibited in all the countenances, made them a most impressive sight. There was no carelessness, no languor, no idle curiosity; none of the many shades of indifference to be seen in all other assemblies, visible for one moment there. |
| 7728 |
Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. |
| 7729 |
Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. |
| 7730 |
I have never seen her yet. Now, if you'll believe me, she hasn't come out of that house since noon today. So not to give her up too easily, I was waiting about, a little last bit more, when I passed close to this good lass two or three times; and her face being so friendly I spoke to her, and she spoke to me. |
| 7731 |
Age, especially when it strives to be self reliant and cheerful, finds much consideration among the poor. The old woman was so decent and contented, and made so light of her infirmities, though they had increased upon her since her former interview with Stephen, that they both took an interest in her. |
| 7732 |
Presently, a light went up stairs after her, passing first the fanlight of the door, and afterwards the two staircase windows, on its way up. By and by, one corner of the second floor blind was disturbed, as if Mrs. Sparsit's eye were there; also the other corner, as if the light porter's eye were on that side. |
| 7733 |
Much relieved when the two hours were at last accomplished, he went away at a quick pace, as a recompense for so much loitering. He had only to take leave of his landlady, and lie down on his temporary bed upon the floor; for his bundle was made up for tomorrow, and all was arranged for his departure. |
| 7734 |
Domestic fires were not yet lighted, and the high chimneys had the sky to themselves. Puffing out their poisonous volumes, they would not be long in hiding it; but, for half an hour, some of the many windows were golden, which showed the Coketown people a sun eternally in eclipse, through a medium of smoked glass. |
| 7735 |
So strange to have lived to his time of life, and yet to be beginning like a boy this summer morning! With these musings in his mind, and his bundle under his arm, Stephen took his attentive face along the high road. And the trees arched over him, whispering that he left a true and loving heart behind. |
| 7736 |
With the aid of a little more coaching for the political sages, a little more genteel listlessness for the general society, and a tolerable management of the assumed honesty in dishonesty, most effective and most patronized of the polite deadly sins, he speedily came to be considered of much promise. |
| 7737 |
With doubts, because the aspiration had been so laid waste in her youth. With resentments, because of the wrong that had been done her, if it were indeed a whisper of the truth. Upon a nature long accustomed to self suppression, thus torn and divided, the Harthouse philosophy came as a relief and justification. |
| 7738 |
These accidents did sometimes happen in the best regulated families of Coketown, but the bankrupts had no connexion whatever with the improvident classes. It afforded Mr. Bounderby supreme satisfaction to instal himself in this snug little estate, and with demonstrative humility to grow cabbages in the flower garden. |
| 7739 |
How else was I to get it? Here's old Bounderby always boasting that at my age he lived upon twopence a month, or something of that sort. Here's my father drawing what he calls a line, and tying me down to it from a baby, neck and heels. Here's my mother who never has anything of her own, except her complaints. |
| 7740 |
I don't say she has got it. I may have wanted more than she was likely to have got. But then she ought to get it. She could get it. It's of no use pretending to make a secret of matters now, after what I have told you already; you know she didn't marry old Bounderby for her own sake, or for his sake, but for my sake. |
| 7741 |
She is not obliged to say what she is going to do with it; she is sharp enough; she could manage to coax it out of him, if she chose. Then why doesn't she choose, when I tell her of what consequence it is? But no. There she sits in his company like a stone, instead of making herself agreeable and getting it easily. |
| 7742 |
He was anxious to see if she had relapsed since the previous evening. No. He resumed where he had left off. There was a look of interest for him again. He got through the day as much (or as little) to his own satisfaction, as was to be expected under the fatiguing circumstances; and came riding back at six o'clock. |
| 7743 |
Very well. Yesterday afternoon, at the close of business hours, everything was put away as usual. In the iron room that this young fellow sleeps outside of, there was never mind how much. In the little safe in young Tom's closet, the safe used for petty purposes, there was a hundred and fifty odd pound. |
| 7744 |
It was a fine night: not moonlight, but sultry and fragrant. Louisa and Mr. Harthouse strolled out into the garden, where their voices could be heard in the stillness, though not what they said. Mrs. Sparsit, from her place at the backgammon board, was constantly straining her eyes to pierce the shadows without. |
| 7745 |
At last, when the darkness and stillness had seemed for hours to thicken one another, she heard the bell at the gate. She felt as though she would have been glad that it rang on until daylight; but it ceased, and the circles of its last sound spread out fainter and wider in the air, and all was dead again. |
| 7746 |
Then she arose, put on a loose robe, and went out of her room in the dark, and up the staircase to her brother's room. His door being shut, she softly opened it and spoke to him, approaching his bed with a noiseless step. She kneeled down beside it, passed her arm over his neck, and drew his face to hers. |
| 7747 |
Then the wretched boy looked cautiously up and found her gone, crept out of bed, fastened his door, and threw himself upon his pillow again: tearing his hair, morosely crying, grudgingly loving her, hatefully but impenitently spurning himself, and no less hatefully and unprofitably spurning all the good in the world. |
| 7748 |
Another noticeable circumstance in Mrs. Sparsit was, that she was never hurried. She would shoot with consummate velocity from the roof to the hall, yet would be in full possession of her breath and dignity on the moment of her arrival there. Neither was she ever seen by human vision to go at a great pace. |
| 7749 |
It was only (she observed) because Miss Gradgrind happened to be a little late, and Mr. Bounderby's time was so very precious, and she knew it of old to be so essential that he should breakfast to the moment, that she had taken the liberty of complying with his request; long as his will had been a law to her. |
| 7750 |
Her mother had taken it rather as a disturbance than otherwise, to be visited, as she reclined upon her sofa; young people, Louisa felt herself all unfit for; Sissy she had never softened to again, since the night when the stroller's child had raised her eyes to look at Mr. Bounderby's intended wife. |
| 7751 |
They were flowing for the fertilization of the land where grapes are gathered from thorns, and figs from thistles. She went, with a heavy, hardened kind of sorrow upon her, into the house and into her mother's room. Since the time of her leaving home, Sissy had lived with the rest of the family on equal terms. |
| 7752 |
Her feeble voice sounded so far away in her bundle of shawls, and the sound of another voice addressing her seemed to take such a long time in getting down to her ears, that she might have been lying at the bottom of a well. The poor lady was nearer Truth than she ever had been: which had much to do with it. |
| 7753 |
Eager to see it accomplished, and yet patient, she waited for the last fall, as for the ripeness and fulness of the harvest of her hopes. Hushed in expectancy, she kept her wary gaze upon the stairs; and seldom so much as darkly shook her right mitten (with her fist in it), at the figure coming down. |
| 7754 |
All the journey, immovable in the air though never left behind; plain to the dark eyes of her mind, as the electric wires which ruled a colossal strip of music paper out of the evening sky, were plain to the dark eyes of her body; Mrs. Sparsit saw her staircase, with the figure coming down. Very near the bottom now. |
| 7755 |
Upon the brink of the abyss. An overcast September evening, just at nightfall, saw beneath its drooping eyelids Mrs. Sparsit glide out of her carriage, pass down the wooden steps of the little station into a stony road, cross it into a green lane, and become hidden in a summer growth of leaves and branches. |
| 7756 |
Most of them were open, as they usually were in such warm weather, but there were no lights yet, and all was silent. She tried the garden with no better effect. She thought of the wood, and stole towards it, heedless of long grass and briers: of worms, snails, and slugs, and all the creeping things that be. |
| 7757 |
There they were yonder, by the felled tree. Bending low among the dewy grass, Mrs. Sparsit advanced closer to them. She drew herself up, and stood behind a tree, like Robinson Crusoe in his ambuscade against the savages; so near to them that at a spring, and that no great one, she could have touched them both. |
| 7758 |
What to do next? It rained now, in a sheet of water. Mrs. Sparsit's white stockings were of many colours, green predominating; prickly things were in her shoes; caterpillars slung themselves, in hammocks of their own making, from various parts of her dress; rills ran from her bonnet, and her Roman nose. |
| 7759 |
Mrs. Sparsit sat waiting in another corner. Both listened to the thunder, which was loud, and to the rain, as it washed off the roof, and pattered on the parapets of the arches. Two or three lamps were rained out and blown out; so, both saw the lightning to advantage as it quivered and zigzagged on the iron tracks. |
| 7760 |
The seizure of the station with a fit of trembling, gradually deepening to a complaint of the heart, announced the train. Fire and steam, and smoke, and red light; a hiss, a crash, a bell, and a shriek; Louisa put into one carriage, Mrs. Sparsit put into another: the little station a desert speck in the thunderstorm. |
| 7761 |
I was not wholly indifferent, for I had a hope of being pleasant and useful to Tom. I made that wild escape into something visionary, and have slowly found out how wild it was. But Tom had been the subject of all the little tenderness of my life; perhaps he became so because I knew so well how to pity him. |
| 7762 |
He sat down at the side of the bed, tenderly asking how she was, and dwelling on the necessity of her keeping very quiet after her agitation and exposure to the weather last night. He spoke in a subdued and troubled voice, very different from his usual dictatorial manner; and was often at a loss for words. |
| 7763 |
The only support on which I leaned, and the strength of which it seemed, and still does seem, impossible to question, has given way in an instant. I am stunned by these discoveries. I have no selfish meaning in what I say; but I find the shock of what broke upon me last night, to be very heavy indeed. |
| 7764 |
So in her bosom even now; the strongest qualities she possessed, long turned upon themselves, became a heap of obduracy, that rose against a friend. It was well that soft touch came upon her neck, and that she understood herself to be supposed to have fallen asleep. The sympathetic hand did not claim her resentment. |
| 7765 |
Let it lie there, let it lie. It lay there, warming into life a crowd of gentler thoughts; and she rested. As she softened with the quiet, and the consciousness of being so watched, some tears made their way into her eyes. The face touched hers, and she knew that there were tears upon it too, and she the cause of them. |
| 7766 |
He several times spoke with an emphasis, similar to the vulgar manner. He went in and went out in an unaccountable way, like a man without an object. He rode like a highwayman. In a word, he was so horribly bored by existing circumstances, that he forgot to go in for boredom in the manner prescribed by the authorities. |
| 7767 |
It was, that whether she was in town or out of town, whether he had been premature with her who was so hard to comprehend, or she had lost courage, or they were discovered, or some mischance or mistake, at present incomprehensible, had occurred, he must remain to confront his fortune, whatever it was. |
| 7768 |
The moral sort of fellows might suppose that Mr. James Harthouse derived some comfortable reflections afterwards, from this prompt retreat, as one of his few actions that made any amends for anything, and as a token to himself that he had escaped the climax of a very bad business. But it was not so, at all. |
| 7769 |
When I begin to be dear to a man, I generally find that his intention is to come over me. I am not speaking to you politely; but, as you are aware, I am not polite. If you like politeness, you know where to get it. You have your gentleman friends, you know, and they'll serve you with as much of the article as you want. |
| 7770 |
To tell you the truth, I don't think it would be worthy of my reputation to quarrel on such a subject. As to your gentleman friend, he may take himself off, wherever he likes best. If he falls in my way, I shall tell him my mind; if he don't fall in my way, I shan't, for it won't be worth my while to do it. |
| 7771 |
Consequently, in the first few weeks of his resumed bachelorhood, he even advanced upon his usual display of bustle, and every day made such a rout in renewing his investigations into the robbery, that the officers who had it in hand almost wished it had never been committed. They were at fault too, and off the scent. |
| 7772 |
This is an unseasonable hour, but here is a young woman who has been making statements which render my visit necessary. Tom Gradgrind, as your son, young Tom, refuses for some obstinate reason or other to say anything at all about those statements, good or bad, I am obliged to confront her with your daughter. |
| 7773 |
Sissy flushed and started, and Louisa put her finger on her lip. Next night, when Sissy returned home and told Louisa that Stephen was not come, she told it in a whisper. Next night again, when she came home with the same account, and added that he had not been heard of, she spoke in the same low frightened tone. |
| 7774 |
From the moment of that interchange of looks, they never uttered his name, or any reference to him, aloud; nor ever pursued the subject of the robbery, when Mr. Gradgrind spoke of it. The two appointed days ran out, three days and nights ran out, and Stephen Blackpool was not come, and remained unheard of. |
| 7775 |
Stephen Blackpool had decamped in that same hour; and no soul knew more of him. The only doubt in Coketown was, whether Rachael had written in good faith, believing that he really would come back, or warning him to fly. On this point opinion was divided. Six days, seven days, far on into another week. |
| 7776 |
All day, Rachael toiled as such people must toil, whatever their anxieties. The smoke serpents were indifferent who was lost or found, who turned out bad or good; the melancholy mad elephants, like the Hard Fact men, abated nothing of their set routine, whatever happened. Day and night again, day and night again. |
| 7777 |
Louisa had never spoken of harbouring any suspicion of her brother in connexion with the robbery, she and Sissy had held no confidence on the subject, save in that one interchange of looks when the unconscious father rested his gray head on his hand; but it was understood between them, and they both knew it. |
| 7778 |
This other fear was so awful, that it hovered about each of them like a ghostly shadow; neither daring to think of its being near herself, far less of its being near the other. And still the forced spirit which the whelp had plucked up, throve with him. If Stephen Blackpool was not the thief, let him show himself. |
| 7779 |
They walked on across the fields and down the shady lanes, sometimes getting over a fragment of a fence so rotten that it dropped at a touch of the foot, sometimes passing near a wreck of bricks and beams overgrown with grass, marking the site of deserted works. They followed paths and tracks, however slight. |
| 7780 |
They were afraid to look; but they did examine it, and found no mark of violence, inside or out. It had been lying there some days, for rain and dew had stained it, and the mark of its shape was on the grass where it had fallen. They looked fearfully about them, without moving, but could see nothing more. |
| 7781 |
And after standing for a moment to see her running, wringing her hands as she ran, she turned and went upon her own search; she stopped at the hedge to tie her shawl there as a guide to the place, then threw her bonnet aside, and ran as she had never run before. Run, Sissy, run, in Heaven's name! Don't stop for breath. |
| 7782 |
By this time a whole village was up: and windlasses, ropes, poles, candles, lanterns, all things necessary, were fast collecting and being brought into one place, to be carried to the Old Hell Shaft. It seemed now hours and hours since she had left the lost man lying in the grave where he had been buried alive. |
| 7783 |
The sun was setting now; and the red light in the evening sky touched every face there, and caused it to be distinctly seen in all its rapt suspense. The consultation ended in the men returning to the windlass, and the pitman going down again, carrying the wine and some other small matters with him. |
| 7784 |
Every one waited with his grasp set, and his body bent down to the work, ready to reverse and wind in. At length the signal was given, and all the ring leaned forward. For, now, the rope came in, tightened and strained to its utmost as it appeared, and the men turned heavily, and the windlass complained. |
| 7785 |
And at that time the pale, worn, patient face was seen looking up at the sky, with the broken right hand lying bare on the outside of the covering garments, as if waiting to be taken by another hand. They gave him drink, moistened his face with water, and administered some drops of cordial and wine. |
| 7786 |
From this dismal spot they were rescued by a savage old postilion, who happened to be up early, kicking a horse in a fly: and so were smuggled into the town by all the back lanes where the pigs lived: which, although not a magnificent or even savoury approach, was, as is usual in such cases, the legitimate highway. |
| 7787 |
The first thing they saw on entering the town was the skeleton of Sleary's Circus. The company had departed for another town more than twenty miles off, and had opened there last night. The connection between the two places was by a hilly turnpike road, and the travelling on that road was very slow. |
| 7788 |
A Grand Morning Performance by the Riders, commencing at that very hour, was in course of announcement by the bellman as they set their feet upon the stones of the street. Sissy recommended that, to avoid making inquiries and attracting attention in the town, they should present themselves to pay at the door. |
| 7789 |
If Mr. Sleary were taking the money, he would be sure to know her, and would proceed with discretion. If he were not, he would be sure to see them inside; and, knowing what he had done with the fugitive, would proceed with discretion still. Therefore, they repaired, with fluttering hearts, to the wellremembered booth. |
| 7790 |
The Emperor of Japan, on a steady old white horse stencilled with black spots, was twirling five wash hand basins at once, as it is the favourite recreation of that monarch to do. Sissy, though well acquainted with his Royal line, had no personal knowledge of the present Emperor, and his reign was peaceful. |
| 7791 |
She left her love for her brother, with her eyes full of tears; and she and Sissy went away until later in the afternoon. Mr. Gradgrind arrived within an hour afterwards. He too had encountered no one whom he knew; and was now sanguine with Sleary's assistance, of getting his disgraced son to Liverpool in the night. |
| 7792 |
Tell him, when he theeth our horthe begin to danthe, not to be afraid of being thpilt, but to look out for a pony gig coming up. Tell him, when he theeth that gig clothe by, to jump down, and it'll take him off at a rattling pathe. If my dog leth thith young man thtir a peg on foot, I give him leave to go. |
| 7793 |
Broadsides in the streets, signed with her father's name, exonerating the late Stephen Blackpool, weaver, from misplaced suspicion, and publishing the guilt of his own son, with such extenuation as his years and temptation (he could not bring himself to add, his education) might beseech; were of the Present. |
| 7794 |
But, I submit myself to suffer judgment to go by default on all these counts, if need be, and to accept the assurance (on good authority) that nothing like them was ever known in this land. Some of my readers may have an interest in being informed whether or no any portions of the Marshalsea Prison are yet standing. |
| 7795 |
The only things to be seen not fixedly staring and glaring were the vines drooping under their load of grapes. These did occasionally wink a little, as the hot air barely moved their faint leaves. There was no wind to make a ripple on the foul water within the harbour, or on the beautiful sea without. |
| 7796 |
Towards the distant line of Italian coast, indeed, it was a little relieved by light clouds of mist, slowly rising from the evaporation of the sea, but it softened nowhere else. Far away the staring roads, deep in dust, stared from the hill side, stared from the hollow, stared from the interminable plain. |
| 7797 |
The very dust was scorched brown, and something quivered in the atmosphere as if the air itself were panting. Blinds, shutters, curtains, awnings, were all closed and drawn to keep out the stare. Grant it but a chink or keyhole, and it shot in like a white hot arrow. The churches were the freest from it. |
| 7798 |
That was all the chamber held, exclusive of rats and other unseen vermin, in addition to the seen vermin, the two men. It received such light as it got through a grating of iron bars fashioned like a pretty large window, by means of which it could be always inspected from the gloomy staircase on which the grating gave. |
| 7799 |
There was a broad strong ledge of stone to this grating where the bottom of it was let into the masonry, three or four feet above the ground. Upon it, one of the two men lolled, half sitting and half lying, with his knees drawn up, and his feet and shoulders planted against the opposite sides of the aperture. |
| 7800 |
The bars were wide enough apart to admit of his thrusting his arm through to the elbow; and so he held on negligently, for his greater ease. A prison taint was on everything there. The imprisoned air, the imprisoned light, the imprisoned damps, the imprisoned men, were all deteriorated by confinement. |
| 7801 |
Whereas she had put the lump of coarse bread into the swart, scaled, knotted hands of John Baptist (who had scarcely as much nail on his eight fingers and two thumbs as would have made out one for Monsieur Rigaud), with ready confidence; and, when he kissed her hand, had herself passed it caressingly over his face. |
| 7802 |
The little man sat down again upon the pavement with the negligent ease of one who was thoroughly accustomed to pavements; and placing three hunks of coarse bread before himself, and falling to upon a fourth, began contentedly to work his way through them as if to clear them off were a sort of game. |
| 7803 |
Perhaps he glanced at the Lyons sausage, and perhaps he glanced at the veal in savoury jelly, but they were not there long, to make his mouth water; Monsieur Rigaud soon dispatched them, in spite of the president and tribunal, and proceeded to suck his fingers as clean as he could, and to wipe them on his vine leaves. |
| 7804 |
There seemed to be some uncomfortable attraction of Monsieur Rigaud's eyes to the immediate neighbourhood of that part of the pavement where the thumb had been in the plan. They were so drawn in that direction, that the Italian more than once followed them to and back from the pavement in some surprise. |
| 7805 |
Unfortunately, the property of Madame Rigaud was settled upon herself. Such was the insane act of her late husband. More unfortunately still, she had relations. When a wife's relations interpose against a husband who is a gentleman, who is proud, and who must govern, the consequences are inimical to peace. |
| 7806 |
Neither is there any expression of the human countenance at all like that expression in every little line of which the frightened heart is seen to beat. Both are conventionally compared with death; but the difference is the whole deep gulf between the struggle done, and the fight at its most desperate extremity. |
| 7807 |
He lighted another of his paper cigars at his companion's; put it tightly between his teeth; covered his head with a soft slouched hat; threw the end of his cloak over his shoulder again; and walked out into the side gallery on which the door opened, without taking any further notice of Signor Cavalletto. |
| 7808 |
The officer of health, and a variety of humbugs in cocked hats, are coming off to let us out of this at last: and all we jail birds are to breakfast together in something approaching to a Christian style again, before we take wing for our different destinations. Tattycoram, stick you close to your young mistress. |
| 7809 |
Pet and her baby sister were so exactly alike, and so completely one, that in our thoughts we have never been able to separate them since. It would be of no use to tell us that our dead child was a mere infant. We have changed that child according to the changes in the child spared to us and always with us. |
| 7810 |
There, a great table in a great room was soon profusely covered with a superb repast; and the quarantine quarters became bare indeed, remembered among dainty dishes, southern fruits, cooled wines, flowers from Genoa, snow from the mountain tops, and all the colours of the rainbow flashing in the mirrors. |
| 7811 |
That it could soften or relent, appeared next to impossible. That it could deepen into anger or any extreme of defiance, and that it must change in that direction when it changed at all, would have been its peculiar impression upon most observers. It was dressed and trimmed into no ceremony of expression. |
| 7812 |
Now, there were many stairs and passages that she had to traverse in passing from that part of the spacious house to the chamber she had secured for her own occupation. When she had almost completed the journey, and was passing along the gallery in which her room was, she heard an angry sound of muttering and sobbing. |
| 7813 |
And thus ever by day and night, under the sun and under the stars, climbing the dusty hills and toiling along the weary plains, journeying by land and journeying by sea, coming and going so strangely, to meet and to act and react on one another, move all we restless travellers through the pilgrimage of life. |
| 7814 |
The old man had put the candlestick upon the table, and, supporting his right elbow with his left hand, was smoothing his leathern jaws while he looked at the visitor. The visitor offered his hand. The old man took it coldly enough, and seemed to prefer his jaws, to which he returned as soon as he could. |
| 7815 |
He might, from his dress, have been either clerk or servant, and in fact had long been both. There was nothing about him in the way of decoration but a watch, which was lowered into the depths of its proper pocket by an old black ribbon, and had a tarnished copper key moored above it, to show where it was sunk. |
| 7816 |
She and his father had been at variance from his earliest remembrance. To sit speechless himself in the midst of rigid silence, glancing in dread from the one averted face to the other, had been the peacefullest occupation of his childhood. She gave him one glassy kiss, and four stiff fingers muffled in worsted. |
| 7817 |
Arthur opened the long low window, and looked out upon the old blasted and blackened forest of chimneys, and the old red glare in the sky, which had seemed to him once upon a time but a nightly reflection of the fiery environment that was presented to his childish fancy in all directions, let it look where it would. |
| 7818 |
Little more than a week ago at Marseilles, the face of the pretty girl from whom he had parted with regret, had had an unusual interest for him, and a tender hold upon him, because of some resemblance, real or imagined, to this first face that had soared out of his gloomy life into the bright glories of fancy. |
| 7819 |
When Mrs Flintwinch dreamed, she usually dreamed, unlike the son of her old mistress, with her eyes shut. She had a curiously vivid dream that night, and before she had left the son of her old mistress many hours. In fact it was not at all like a dream; it was so very real in every respect. It happened in this wise. |
| 7820 |
He sat on one side of the small table, looking keenly at himself on the other side with his chin sunk on his breast, snoring. The waking Flintwinch had his full front face presented to his wife; the sleeping Flintwinch was in profile. The waking Flintwinch was the old original; the sleeping Flintwinch was the double. |
| 7821 |
He kept his eyes upon her, and kept advancing; and she, completely under his influence, kept retiring before him. Thus, she walking backward and he walking forward, they came into their own room. They were no sooner shut in there, than Mr Flintwinch took her by the throat, and shook her until she was black in the face. |
| 7822 |
Her son thought so (it was an old thought with him), while he took his seat beside it. She opened a drawer or two, looked over some business papers, and put them back again. Her severe face had no thread of relaxation in it, by which any explorer could have been guided to the gloomy labyrinth of her thoughts. |
| 7823 |
I will not take upon myself to advise you; you will continue it, I see. If I had any influence with you, I would simply use it to soften your judgment of me in causing you this disappointment: to represent to you that I have lived the half of a long term of life, and have never before set my own will against yours. |
| 7824 |
You know I stood between you and his father so long, that it seems as if death had made no difference, and I was still standing between you. So I will, and so in fairness I require to have that plainly put forward. Arthur, you please to hear that you have no right to mistrust your father, and have no ground to go upon. |
| 7825 |
Now that he had an opportunity of observing her, Arthur found that her diminutive figure, small features, and slight spare dress, gave her the appearance of being much younger than she was. A woman, probably of not less than two and twenty, she might have been passed in the street for little more than half that age. |
| 7826 |
There had been taken to the Marshalsea Prison, long before the day when the sun shone on Marseilles and on the opening of this narrative, a debtor with whom this narrative has some concern. He was, at that time, a very amiable and very helpless middle aged gentleman, who was going out again directly. |
| 7827 |
All the ladies in the prison had got hold of the news, and were in the yard. Some of them had already taken possession of the two children, and were hospitably carrying them off; others were offering loans of little comforts from their own scanty store; others were sympathising with the greatest volubility. |
| 7828 |
In the debtor's confined chamber, Mrs Bangham, charwoman and messenger, who was not a prisoner (though she had been once), but was the popular medium of communication with the outer world, had volunteered her services as fly catcher and general attendant. The walls and ceiling were blackened with flies. |
| 7829 |
We are quiet here; we don't get badgered here; there's no knocker here, sir, to be hammered at by creditors and bring a man's heart into his mouth. Nobody comes here to ask if a man's at home, and to say he'll stand on the door mat till he is. Nobody writes threatening letters about money to this place. |
| 7830 |
I have had to day's practice at home and abroad, on a march, and aboard ship, and I'll tell you this: I don't know that I have ever pursued it under such quiet circumstances as here this day. Elsewhere, people are restless, worried, hurried about, anxious respecting one thing, anxious respecting another. |
| 7831 |
A disposition began to be perceived in him to exaggerate the number of years he had been there; it was generally understood that you must deduct a few from his account; he was vain, the fleeting generations of debtors said. All new comers were presented to him. He was punctilious in the exaction of this ceremony. |
| 7832 |
Through this little gate, she passed out of childhood into the care laden world. What her pitiful look saw, at that early time, in her father, in her sister, in her brother, in the jail; how much, or how little of the wretched truth it pleased God to make visible to her; lies hidden with many mysteries. |
| 7833 |
In course of time, and in the very self same course of time, the Father of the Marshalsea gradually developed a new flower of character. The more Fatherly he grew as to the Marshalsea, and the more dependent he became on the contributions of his changing family, the greater stand he made by his forlorn gentility. |
| 7834 |
The turnkey had strong private opinions as to what would become of poor Tip, and had even gone so far with the view of averting their fulfilment, as to sound Tip in reference to the expediency of running away and going to serve his country. But Tip had thanked him, and said he didn't seem to care for his country. |
| 7835 |
She cried, with her clasped hands lifted above her head, that it would kill their father if he ever knew it; and fell down at Tip's graceless feet. It was easier for Tip to bring her to her senses than for her to bring him to understand that the Father of the Marshalsea would be beside himself if he knew the truth. |
| 7836 |
He yielded to it in that light only, when he submitted to her entreaties, backed by those of his uncle and sister. There was no want of precedent for his return; it was accounted for to the father in the usual way; and the collegians, with a better comprehension of the pious fraud than Tip, supported it loyally. |
| 7837 |
This was the life, and this the history, of the child of the Marshalsea at twenty two. With a still surviving attachment to the one miserable yard and block of houses as her birthplace and home, she passed to and fro in it shrinkingly now, with a womanly consciousness that she was pointed out to every one. |
| 7838 |
He stooped a good deal, and plodded along in a slow pre occupied manner, which made the bustling London thoroughfares no very safe resort for him. He was dirtily and meanly dressed, in a threadbare coat, once blue, reaching to his ankles and buttoned to his chin, where it vanished in the pale ghost of a velvet collar. |
| 7839 |
She filled his glass, put all the little matters on the table ready to his hand, and then sat beside him while he ate his supper. Evidently in observance of their nightly custom, she put some bread before herself, and touched his glass with her lips; but Arthur saw she was troubled and took nothing. |
| 7840 |
I did so, that I might endeavour to render you and your family some service. You know the terms on which I and my mother are, and may not be surprised that I have preserved our distant relations at her house, lest I should unintentionally make her jealous, or resentful, or do you any injury in her estimation. |
| 7841 |
The two tables put together in a corner, were, at length, converted into a very fair bed; and the stranger was left to the Windsor chairs, the presidential tribune, the beery atmosphere, sawdust, pipe lights, spittoons and repose. But the last item was long, long, long, in linking itself to the rest. |
| 7842 |
The novelty of the place, the coming upon it without preparation, the sense of being locked up, the remembrance of that room up stairs, of the two brothers, and above all of the retiring childish form, and the face in which he now saw years of insufficient food, if not of want, kept him waking and unhappy. |
| 7843 |
The shabbiness of these attendants upon shabbiness, the poverty of these insolvent waiters upon insolvency, was a sight to see. Such threadbare coats and trousers, such fusty gowns and shawls, such squashed hats and bonnets, such boots and shoes, such umbrellas and walking sticks, never were seen in Rag Fair. |
| 7844 |
As these people passed him standing still in the court yard, and one of them turned back to inquire if he could assist him with his services, it came into Arthur Clennam's mind that he would speak to Little Dorrit again before he went away. She would have recovered her first surprise, and might feel easier with him. |
| 7845 |
The nondescript had known her many years. In regard of the other Miss Dorrit, the nondescript lodged in the same house with herself and uncle. This changed the client's half formed design of remaining at the coffee shop until the nondescript should bring him word that Dorrit had issued forth into the street. |
| 7846 |
He fancied that they viewed her, not as having risen away from the prison atmosphere, but as appertaining to it; as being vaguely what they had a right to expect, and nothing more. Her uncle resumed his breakfast, and was munching toast sopped in coffee, oblivious of his guest, when the third bell rang. |
| 7847 |
Yet it was not a common passage through common rain, and mire, and noise, to Clennam, having this little, slender, careful creature on his arm. How young she seemed to him, or how old he to her; or what a secret either to the other, in that beginning of the destined interweaving of their stories, matters not here. |
| 7848 |
This glorious establishment had been early in the field, when the one sublime principle involving the difficult art of governing a country, was first distinctly revealed to statesmen. It had been foremost to study that bright revelation and to carry its shining influence through the whole of the official proceedings. |
| 7849 |
Boards sat upon them, secretaries minuted upon them, commissioners gabbled about them, clerks registered, entered, checked, and ticked them off, and they melted away. In short, all the business of the country went through the Circumlocution Office, except the business that never came out of it; and its name was Legion. |
| 7850 |
Then would the noble lord, or right honourable gentleman, in whose department it was to defend the Circumlocution Office, put an orange in his pocket, and make a regular field day of the occasion. Then would he come down to that house with a slap upon the table, and meet the honourable gentleman foot to foot. |
| 7851 |
They were dispersed all over the public offices, and held all sorts of public places. Either the nation was under a load of obligation to the Barnacles, or the Barnacles were under a load of obligation to the nation. It was not quite unanimously settled which; the Barnacles having their opinion, the nation theirs. |
| 7852 |
The Mr Tite Barnacle who at the period now in question usually coached or crammed the statesman at the head of the Circumlocution Office, when that noble or right honourable individual sat a little uneasily in his saddle by reason of some vagabond making a tilt at him in a newspaper, was more flush of blood than money. |
| 7853 |
He was dressed in decent black, a little rusty, and had the appearance of a sagacious master in some handicraft. He had a spectacle case in his hand, which he turned over and over while he was thus in question, with a certain free use of the thumb that is never seen but in a hand accustomed to tools. |
| 7854 |
His appearance did not at all justify the suspicion that he had been detected in designs on Mr Meagles's pocket handkerchief; nor had he any appearance of being quarrelsome or violent. He was a quiet, plain, steady man; made no attempt to escape; and seemed a little depressed, but neither ashamed nor repentant. |
| 7855 |
He perceived that the man was not a difficulty in his own mind alone, but in Mr Meagles's too; for such conversation as they had together on the short way to the Park was by no means well sustained, and Mr Meagles's eye always wandered back to the man, even when he spoke of something very different. |
| 7856 |
How the Circumlocution Office, in course of time, took up the business as if it were a bran new thing of yesterday, which had never been heard of before; muddled the business, addled the business, tossed the business in a wet blanket. How the impertinences, ignorances, and insults went through the multiplication table. |
| 7857 |
Arthur could not but glance at Daniel Doyce in the ensuing silence. Though it was evidently in the grain of his character, and of his respect for his own case, that he should abstain from idle murmuring, it was evident that he had grown the older, the sterner, and the poorer, for his long endeavour. |
| 7858 |
He could not but think what a blessed thing it would have been for this man, if he had taken a lesson from the gentlemen who were so kind as to take a nation's affairs in charge, and had learnt How not to do it. Mr Meagles was hot and despondent for about five minutes, and then began to cool and clear up. |
| 7859 |
There had been that momentary interruption of the talk about the stove, and that temporary inattention to and distraction from one another, which is usually inseparable in such a company from the arrival of a stranger. It had passed over by this time; and the men had done glancing at him, and were talking again. |
| 7860 |
You know that I am sensitive and brave, and that it is my character to govern. How has society respected those qualities in me? I have been shrieked at through the streets. I have been guarded through the streets against men, and especially women, running at me armed with any weapons they could lay their hands on. |
| 7861 |
When he started up, the Godfather Break of Day was peeping at its namesake. He rose, took his shoes in his hand, turned the key in the door with great caution, and crept downstairs. Nothing was astir there but the smell of coffee, wine, tobacco, and syrups; and madame's little counter looked ghastly enough. |
| 7862 |
Such was Clennam's case. In his youth he had ardently loved this woman, and had heaped upon her all the locked up wealth of his affection and imagination. That wealth had been, in his desert home, like Robinson Crusoe's money; exchangeable with no one, lying idle in the dark to rust, until he poured it out for her. |
| 7863 |
Ever since that memorable time, though he had, until the night of his arrival, as completely dismissed her from any association with his Present or Future as if she had been dead (which she might easily have been for anything he knew), he had kept the old fancy of the Past unchanged, in its old sacred place. |
| 7864 |
Or rather, she left about half of herself at eighteen years of age behind, and grafted the rest on to the relict of the late Mr F.; thus making a moral mermaid of herself, which her once boy lover contemplated with feelings wherein his sense of the sorrowful and his sense of the comical were curiously blended. |
| 7865 |
He turned slowly down Aldersgate Street, and was pondering his way along towards Saint Paul's, purposing to come into one of the great thoroughfares for the sake of their light and life, when a crowd of people flocked towards him on the same pavement, and he stood aside against a shop to let them pass. |
| 7866 |
And this saved him still from the whimpering weakness and cruel selfishness of holding that because such a happiness or such a virtue had not come into his little path, or worked well for him, therefore it was not in the great scheme, but was reducible, when found in appearance, to the basest elements. |
| 7867 |
There was a glow of pride in her big child, overspreading her face, when it again met the eyes of the grave brown gentleman. She wondered what he was thinking of, as he looked at Maggy and her. She thought what a good father he would be. How, with some such look, he would counsel and cherish his daughter. |
| 7868 |
No, not for the first time. In Little Dorrit's eyes, the outside of that window had been a distant star on other nights than this. She had toiled out of her way, tired and troubled, to look up at it, and wonder about the grave, brown gentleman from so far off, who had spoken to her as a friend and protector. |
| 7869 |
She thought that this revived within her certain old fears of hers that the house was haunted; and that she flew up the kitchen stairs without knowing how she got up, to be nearer company. Mistress Affery thought that on reaching the hall, she saw the door of her liege lord's office standing open, and the room empty. |
| 7870 |
More afraid of her husband at the moment than of the mysterious sound in the kitchen, Affery crept away as lightly and as quickly as she could, descended the kitchen stairs almost as rapidly as she had ascended them, resumed her seat before the fire, tucked up her skirt again, and finally threw her apron over her head. |
| 7871 |
But, for all that, she now began to entertain a settled conviction that there was something wrong in the gloomy house. Henceforth, she was never at peace in it after daylight departed; and never went up or down stairs in the dark without having her apron over her head, lest she should see something. |
| 7872 |
In the vagueness and indistinctness of all her new experiences and perceptions, as everything about her was mysterious to herself she began to be mysterious to others: and became as difficult to be made out to anybody's satisfaction as she found the house and everything in it difficult to make out to her own. |
| 7873 |
And he had plenty of unsettled subjects to meditate upon, though he had been walking to the Land's End. First, there was the subject seldom absent from his mind, the question, what he was to do henceforth in life; to what occupation he should devote himself, and in what direction he had best seek it. |
| 7874 |
Within view was the peaceful river and the ferry boat, to moralise to all the inmates saying: Young or old, passionate or tranquil, chafing or content, you, thus runs the current always. Let the heart swell into what discord it will, thus plays the rippling water on the prow of the ferry boat ever the same tune. |
| 7875 |
Some traces of the migratory habits of the family were to be observed in the covered frames and furniture, and wrapped up hangings; but it was easy to see that it was one of Mr Meagles's whims to have the cottage always kept, in their absence, as if they were always coming back the day after to morrow. |
| 7876 |
When he had shown all his spoils, Mr Meagles took them into his own snug room overlooking the lawn, which was fitted up in part like a dressing room and in part like an office, and in which, upon a kind of counter desk, were a pair of brass scales for weighing gold, and a scoop for shovelling out money. |
| 7877 |
He was young in appearance, young in health and strength, young in heart. A man was certainly not old at forty; and many men were not in circumstances to marry, or did not marry, until they had attained that time of life. On the other hand, the question was, not what he thought of the point, but what she thought of it. |
| 7878 |
But the more beautiful and winning and charming she, the nearer they must always be to the necessity of approaching it. And why not in his favour, as well as in another's? When he had got so far, it came again into his head that the question was, not what they thought of it, but what she thought of it. |
| 7879 |
Pet coloured a little, and went to the piano again. As they broke up for the night, Arthur overheard Doyce ask his host if he could give him half an hour's conversation before breakfast in the morning? The host replying willingly, Arthur lingered behind a moment, having his own word to add to that topic. |
| 7880 |
It scarcely seemed, however, to afford Mr Meagles as much satisfaction as the Barnacle genealogy had done. The cloud that Clennam had never seen upon his face before that morning, frequently overcast it again; and there was the same shadow of uneasy observation of him on the comely face of his wife. |
| 7881 |
Weakened in mind by his frequent losses of this instrument, and its determination not to stick in his eye, and more and more enfeebled in intellect every time he looked at the mysterious Clennam, he applied spoons to his eyes, forks, and other foreign matters connected with the furniture of the dinner table. |
| 7882 |
His discovery of these mistakes greatly increased his difficulties, but never released him from the necessity of looking at Clennam. And whenever Clennam spoke, this ill starred young man was clearly seized with a dread that he was coming, by some artful device, round to that point of wanting to know, you know. |
| 7883 |
But he was great of soul. Poetical, expansive, faithful. Though too humble before the ruler of his heart to be sanguine, Young John had considered the object of his attachment in all its lights and shades. Following it out to blissful results, he had descried, without self commendation, a fitness in it. |
| 7884 |
There was a fitness in that. Say he became a resident turnkey. She would officially succeed to the chamber she had rented so long. There was a beautiful propriety in that. It looked over the wall, if you stood on tip toe; and, with a trellis work of scarlet beans and a canary or so, would become a very Arbour. |
| 7885 |
Tip asserted the family gentility, and his own, by coming out in the character of the aristocratic brother, and loftily swaggering in the little skittle ground respecting seizures by the scruff of the neck, which there were looming probabilities of some gentleman unknown executing on some little puppy not mentioned. |
| 7886 |
There was a great deal of leave taking going on in corners, as was usual on Sunday nights; and here and there in the dark, some poor woman, wife or mother, was weeping with a new Collegian. The time had been when the Father himself had wept, in the shades of that yard, as his own poor wife had wept. |
| 7887 |
For a little while there was a dead silence and stillness; and he remained shrunk in his chair, and she remained with her arm round his neck and her head bowed down upon his shoulder. His supper was cooking in a saucepan on the fire, and, when she moved, it was to make it ready for him on the table. |
| 7888 |
He took his usual seat, she took hers, and he began his meal. They did not, as yet, look at one another. By little and little he began; laying down his knife and fork with a noise, taking things up sharply, biting at his bread as if he were offended with it, and in other similar ways showing that he was out of sorts. |
| 7889 |
They'll tell you it's your father. Go out and ask who is never trifled with, and who is always treated with some delicacy. They'll say, your father. Go out and ask what funeral here (it must be here, I know it can be nowhere else) will make more talk, and perhaps more grief, than any that has ever gone out at the gate. |
| 7890 |
To have painted the sordid facts of their lives, and they throughout invoking the death's head apparition of the family gentility to come and scare their benefactors, would have made Young John a satirist of the first water. Tip had turned his liberty to hopeful account by becoming a billiard marker. |
| 7891 |
Probably at about the period when they began to dine on the College charity. It is certain that the more reduced and necessitous they were, the more pompously the skeleton emerged from its tomb; and that when there was anything particularly shabby in the wind, the skeleton always came out with the ghastliest flourish. |
| 7892 |
Within, were a few wooden partitions, behind which such customers as found it more convenient to take away their dinners in stomachs than in their hands, Packed their purchases in solitude. Fanny opening her reticule, as they surveyed these things, produced from that repository a shilling and handed it to Uncle. |
| 7893 |
The room was far more splendid than anything Little Dorrit had ever imagined, and would have been splendid and costly in any eyes. She looked in amazement at her sister and would have asked a question, but that Fanny with a warning frown pointed to a curtained doorway of communication with another room. |
| 7894 |
If so low a simile may be admitted, the dress went down the staircase like a richly brocaded Jack in the Green, and nobody knew what sort of small person carried it. Society had everything it could want, and could not want, for dinner. It had everything to look at, and everything to eat, and everything to drink. |
| 7895 |
It was a very small establishment, wherein a decent woman sat behind the counter working at her needle. Little jars of tobacco, little boxes of cigars, a little assortment of pipes, a little jar or two of snuff, and a little instrument like a shoeing horn for serving it out, composed the retail stock in trade. |
| 7896 |
In this yard a wash of sheets and table cloths tried (in vain, for want of air) to get itself dried on a line or two; and among those flapping articles was sitting in a chair, like the last mariner left alive on the deck of a damp ship without the power of furling the sails, a little woe begone young man. |
| 7897 |
On the other hand, he reasoned with himself that she was just as good and just as true in love with him, as not in love with him; and that to make a kind of domesticated fairy of her, on the penalty of isolation at heart from the only people she knew, would be but a weakness of his own fancy, and not a kind one. |
| 7898 |
Mrs Chivery considered the latter precaution superfluous, but said she would try. She shook her head as if she had not derived all the comfort she had fondly expected from this interview, but thanked him nevertheless for the trouble he had kindly taken. They then parted good friends, and Arthur walked away. |
| 7899 |
Between them they agreed upon the sum it would be fair to offer for the purchase of a half share in the business, and then Mr Meagles unsealed a paper in which Daniel Doyce had noted the amount at which he valued it; which was even something less. Thus, when Daniel came back, he found the affair as good as concluded. |
| 7900 |
The noises were sufficiently removed and shut out from the counting house to blend into a busy hum, interspersed with periodical clinks and thumps. The patient figures at work were swarthy with the filings of iron and steel that danced on every bench and bubbled up through every chink in the planking. |
| 7901 |
The whole had at once a fanciful and practical air in Clennam's eyes, which was a welcome change; and, as often as he raised them from his first work of getting the array of business documents into perfect order, he glanced at these things with a feeling of pleasure in his pursuit that was new to him. |
| 7902 |
Alone again, Clennam became a prey to his old doubts in reference to his mother and Little Dorrit, and revolved the old thoughts and suspicions. They were all in his mind, blending themselves with the duties he was mechanically discharging, when a shadow on his papers caused him to look up for the cause. |
| 7903 |
Perspiring and puffing and darting about in eccentric directions, and becoming hotter and dingier every moment, he lashed the tide of the yard into a most agitated and turbid state. It had not settled down into calm water again full two hours after he had been seen fuming away on the horizon at the top of the steps. |
| 7904 |
Regarded from this point of view Mr Pancks's puffings expressed injury and impatience, and each of his louder snorts became a demand for payment. But here again she was undeceived by anomalous and incongruous conduct on the part of Mr Pancks himself. She had left the table half an hour, and was at work alone. |
| 7905 |
Then she would flit along the yard, climb the scores of stairs that led to her room, and take her seat at the window. Many combinations did those spikes upon the wall assume, many light shapes did the strong iron weave itself into, many golden touches fell upon the rust, while Little Dorrit sat there musing. |
| 7906 |
When he cast off the Patriarch at night, it was only to take an anonymous craft in tow, and labour away afresh in other waters. The advance from a personal acquaintance with the elder Mr Chivery to an introduction to his amiable wife and disconsolate son, may have been easy; but easy or not, Mr Pancks soon made it. |
| 7907 |
As to any key to his inner knowledge being to be found in his face, the Marshalsea key was as legible as an index to the individual characters and histories upon which it was turned. That Mr Pancks should be moved to invite any one to dinner at Pentonville, was an unprecedented fact in his calendar. |
| 7908 |
Meanwhile Mr Pancks, looking, not without some pity, at Young John, slowly and thoughtfully twisted up his canvas bag as if he were wringing its neck. The lady, returning as he restored it to his pocket, mixed rum and water for the party, not forgetting her fair self, and handed to every one his glass. |
| 7909 |
It was uphill work for a foreigner, lame or sound, to make his way with the Bleeding Hearts. In the first place, they were vaguely persuaded that every foreigner had a knife about him; in the second, they held it to be a sound constitutional national axiom that he ought to go home to his own country. |
| 7910 |
There was a whisper of the pervading Bohemian character in the nomadic nature of the service and its curious races of plates and dishes; but the noble Refrigerator, infinitely better than plate or porcelain, made it superb. He shaded the dinner, cooled the wines, chilled the gravy, and blighted the vegetables. |
| 7911 |
Mr Henry Gowan seemed to have a malicious pleasure in playing off the three talkers against each other, and in seeing Clennam startled by what they said. Having as supreme a contempt for the class that had thrown him off as for the class that had not taken him on, he had no personal disquiet in anything that passed. |
| 7912 |
In the course of a couple of hours the noble Refrigerator, at no time less than a hundred years behind the period, got about five centuries in arrears, and delivered solemn political oracles appropriate to that epoch. He finished by freezing a cup of tea for his own drinking, and retiring at his lowest temperature. |
| 7913 |
I apprehend the girl's fortune will be very small; Henry might have done much better; there is scarcely anything to compensate for the connection: still, he acts for himself; and if I find no improvement within a short time, I see no other course than to resign myself and make the best of these people. |
| 7914 |
Labouring in this sea, as all barks labour in cross seas, he tossed about and came to no haven. The removal of Little Dorrit herself from their customary association, did not mend the matter. She was so much out, and so much in her own room, that he began to miss her and to find a blank in her place. |
| 7915 |
Ah! Perhaps fifty times as good. When we pretended to be so fond of one another, we exulted over her; that was what we did; we exulted over her and shamed her. And all in the house did the same. They talked about their fathers and mothers, and brothers and sisters; they liked to drag them up before her face. |
| 7916 |
Why, who didn't; and who were we that we should have a right to name her like a dog or a cat? But she didn't care. She would take no more benefits from us; she would fling us her name back again, and she would go. She would leave us that minute, nobody should stop her, and we should never hear of her again. |
| 7917 |
There is one of those odd impressions in my house, which do mysteriously get into houses sometimes, which nobody seems to have picked up in a distinct form from anybody, and yet which everybody seems to have got hold of loosely from somebody and let go again, that she lives, or was living, thereabouts. |
| 7918 |
It was now summer time; a grey, hot, dusty evening. They rode to the top of Oxford Street, and there alighting, dived in among the great streets of melancholy stateliness, and the little streets that try to be as stately and succeed in being more melancholy, of which there is a labyrinth near Park Lane. |
| 7919 |
Wildernesses of corner houses, with barbarous old porticoes and appurtenances; horrors that came into existence under some wrong headed person in some wrong headed time, still demanding the blind admiration of all ensuing generations and determined to do so until they tumbled down; frowned upon the twilight. |
| 7920 |
A tranquil summer sunset shone upon him as he approached the end of his walk, and passed through the meadows by the river side. He had that sense of peace, and of being lightened of a weight of care, which country quiet awakens in the breasts of dwellers in towns. Everything within his view was lovely and placid. |
| 7921 |
It has been tried many times by other daughters, Minnie; it has never succeeded; nothing has ever come of it but failure. So Clennam thought. So he did not say; it was too late. He bound himself to do all she asked, and she knew full well that he would do it. They were now at the last tree in the avenue. |
| 7922 |
When he had walked on the river's brink in the peaceful moonlight for some half an hour, he put his hand in his breast and tenderly took out the handful of roses. Perhaps he put them to his heart, perhaps he put them to his lips, but certainly he bent down on the shore and gently launched them on the flowing river. |
| 7923 |
Pictures of demolished streets and altered houses, as they formerly were when the occupant of the chair was familiar with them, images of people as they too used to be, with little or no allowance made for the lapse of time since they were seen; of these, there must have been many in the long routine of gloomy days. |
| 7924 |
He began, too, sometimes of an evening, when Mrs Clennam expressed no particular wish for his society, to resort to a tavern in the neighbourhood to look at the shipping news and closing prices in the evening paper, and even to exchange Small socialities with mercantile Sea Captains who frequented that establishment. |
| 7925 |
Some minutes elapsed before she came out of this thoughtfulness, and resumed her hard composure. Little Dorrit in the meanwhile had been waiting to go, but afraid to disturb her by moving. She now ventured to leave the spot where she had been standing since she had risen, and to pass gently round by the wheeled chair. |
| 7926 |
The clouds were flying fast, and the wind was coming up in gusts, banging some neighbouring shutters that had broken loose, twirling the rusty chimney cowls and weather cocks, and rushing round and round a confined adjacent churchyard as if it had a mind to blow the dead citizens out of their graves. |
| 7927 |
His eyes looked so very sinister, as he put his leg into the room and glanced round at Mistress Affery, that she thought with a sudden coldness, if he were to go straight up stairs to murder the invalid, what could she do to prevent him? Happily he had no such purpose; for he reappeared, in a moment, at the house door. |
| 7928 |
His utter disregard of other people, as shown in his way of tossing the little womanly toys of furniture about, flinging favourite cushions under his boots for a softer rest, and crushing delicate coverings with his big body and his great black head, had the same brute selfishness at the bottom of it. |
| 7929 |
The softly moving hands that were so busy among the dishes had the old wicked facility of the hands that had clung to the bars. And when he could eat no more, and sat sucking his delicate fingers one by one and wiping them on a cloth, there wanted nothing but the substitution of vine leaves to finish the picture. |
| 7930 |
At a pinch, an excellent master in English or French; a man for the bosom of families! You have a quick perception, you have humour, you have ease, you have insinuating manners, you have a good appearance; in effect, you are a gentleman! A gentleman you shall live, my small boy, and a gentleman you shall die. |
| 7931 |
For the rest, there was the bier like sofa with the block upon it, and the figure in the widow's dress, as if attired for execution; the fire topped by the mound of damped ashes; the grate with its second little mound of ashes; the kettle and the smell of black dye; all as they had been for fifteen years. |
| 7932 |
To lead a life as monotonous as mine has been during many years, is not the way to forget. To lead a life of self correction is not the way to forget. To be sensible of having (as we all have, every one of us, all the children of Adam!) offences to expiate and peace to make, does not justify the desire to forget. |
| 7933 |
Without a moment's indecision, Mr Flintwinch accepted the invitation, and they went out to the quarters where the traveller was lodged, through a heavy rain which had rattled on the windows, roofs, and pavements, ever since nightfall. The thunder and lightning had long ago passed over, but the rain was furious. |
| 7934 |
On their arrival at Mr Blandois' room, a bottle of port wine was ordered by that gallant gentleman; who (crushing every pretty thing he could collect, in the soft disposition of his dainty figure) coiled himself upon the window seat, while Mr Flintwinch took a chair opposite to him, with the table between them. |
| 7935 |
Clearly, it was not made for him, or for any individual mortal. Some wholesale contractor measured Fate for five thousand coats of such quality, and Fate has lent this old coat to this old man, as one of a long unfinished line of many old men. It has always large dull metal buttons, similar to no other buttons. |
| 7936 |
He made little treats and teas for him, as if he came in with his homage from some outlying district where the tenantry were in a primitive state. It seemed as if there were moments when he could by no means have sworn but that the old man was an ancient retainer of his, who had been meritoriously faithful. |
| 7937 |
Mrs Merdle was at home, and was in her nest of crimson and gold, with the parrot on a neighbouring stem watching her with his head on one side, as if he took her for another splendid parrot of a larger species. To whom entered Mrs Gowan, with her favourite green fan, which softened the light on the spots of bloom. |
| 7938 |
If we were in a more primitive state, if we lived under roofs of leaves, and kept cows and sheep and creatures instead of banker's accounts (which would be delicious; my dear, I am pastoral to a degree, by nature), well and good. But we don't live under leaves, and keep cows and sheep and creatures. |
| 7939 |
For, though nobody knew with the least precision what Mr Merdle's business was, except that it was to coin money, these were the terms in which everybody defined it on all ceremonious occasions, and which it was the last new polite reading of the parable of the camel and the needle's eye to accept without inquiry. |
| 7940 |
Through all the rooms he wandered, as he always did, like the last person on earth who had any business to approach them. Let Mrs Merdle announce, with all her might, that she was at Home ever so many nights in a season, she could not announce more widely and unmistakably than Mr Merdle did that he was never at home. |
| 7941 |
Mr Henry Gowan and the dog were established frequenters of the cottage, and the day was fixed for the wedding. There was to be a convocation of Barnacles on the occasion, in order that that very high and very large family might shed as much lustre on the marriage as so dim an event was capable of receiving. |
| 7942 |
This Mrs Gowan applied herself to do; calling on Mr Meagles frequently with new additions to the list, and holding conferences with that gentleman when he was not engaged (as he generally was at this period) in examining and paying the debts of his future son in law, in the apartment of scales and scoops. |
| 7943 |
What all we fellows do, we do to sell. If we didn't want to sell it for the most we can get for it, we shouldn't do it. Being work, it has to be done; but it's easily enough done. All the rest is hocus pocus. Now here's one of the advantages, or disadvantages, of knowing a disappointed man. You hear the truth. |
| 7944 |
Mrs Meagles, the blithest and busiest of mothers, went about singing and cheering everybody; but she, honest soul, had her flights into store rooms, where she would cry until her eyes were red, and would then come out, attributing that appearance to pickled onions and pepper, and singing clearer than ever. |
| 7945 |
And they stood, under similar orders, at all sorts of elections; and they turned out of their own seats, on the shortest notice and the most unreasonable terms, to let in other men; and they fetched and carried, and toadied and jobbed, and corrupted, and ate heaps of dirt, and were indefatigable in the public service. |
| 7946 |
Mrs Gowan was herself, and that did not improve him. The fiction that it was not Mr Meagles who had stood in the way, but that it was the Family greatness, and that the Family greatness had made a concession, and there was now a soothing unanimity, pervaded the affair, though it was never openly expressed. |
| 7947 |
How it had at length become plain to Mr Pancks that he had made a real discovery of the heir at law to a great fortune, and that his discovery had but to be ripened to legal fulness and perfection. How he had, thereupon, sworn his landlord, Mr Rugg, to secrecy in a solemn manner, and taken him into Moleing partnership. |
| 7948 |
I proposed to him to lend me the money on my note. Which he did, at twenty; sticking the twenty on in a business like way, and putting it into the note, to look like a part of the principal. If I had broken down after that, I should have been his grubber for the next seven years at half wages and double grind. |
| 7949 |
Her father, her father. She spoke of nothing but him, thought of nothing but him. Kneeling down and pouring out her thankfulness with uplifted hands, her thanks were for her father. Flora's tenderness was quite overcome by this, and she launched out among the cups and saucers into a wonderful flow of tears and speech. |
| 7950 |
Little Dorrit thanked her, and embraced her, over and over again; and finally came out of the house with Clennam, and took coach for the Marshalsea. It was a strangely unreal ride through the old squalid streets, with a sensation of being raised out of them into an airy world of wealth and grandeur. |
| 7951 |
He was sitting in his old grey gown and his old black cap, in the sunlight by the window, reading his newspaper. His glasses were in his hand, and he had just looked round; surprised at first, no doubt, by her step upon the stairs, not expecting her until night; surprised again, by seeing Arthur Clennam in her company. |
| 7952 |
When he had swallowed a little, he took the glass himself and emptied it. Soon after that, he leaned back in his chair and cried, with his handkerchief before his face. After this had lasted a while Clennam thought it a good season for diverting his attention from the main surprise, by relating its details. |
| 7953 |
This going away was perhaps the very first action of their joint lives that they had got through without her. A minute might have been consumed in the ascertaining of these points, when Miss Fanny, who, from her seat in the carriage, commanded the long narrow passage leading to the Lodge, flushed indignantly. |
| 7954 |
Shining metal spires and church roofs, distant and rarely seen, had sparkled in the view; and the snowy mountain tops had been so clear that unaccustomed eyes, cancelling the intervening country, and slighting their rugged heights for something fabulous, would have measured them as within a few hours easy reach. |
| 7955 |
Icicle hung caves and cellars built for refuges from sudden storms, were like so many whispers of the perils of the place; never resting wreaths and mazes of mist wandered about, hunted by a moaning wind; and snow, the besetting danger of the mountain, against which all its defences were taken, drifted sharply down. |
| 7956 |
The file of mules, jaded by their day's work, turned and wound slowly up the deep ascent; the foremost led by a guide on foot, in his broad brimmed hat and round jacket, carrying a mountain staff or two upon his shoulder, with whom another guide conversed. There was no speaking among the string of riders. |
| 7957 |
The sharp cold, the fatigue of the journey, and a new sensation of a catching in the breath, partly as if they had just emerged from very clear crisp water, and partly as if they had been sobbing, kept them silent. At length, a light on the summit of the rocky staircase gleamed through the snow and mist. |
| 7958 |
Up here in the clouds, everything was seen through cloud, and seemed dissolving into cloud. The breath of the men was cloud, the breath of the mules was cloud, the lights were encircled by cloud, speakers close at hand were not seen for cloud, though their voices and all other sounds were surprisingly clear. |
| 7959 |
In this room, after having had their quarters for the night allotted to them by two young Fathers, the travellers presently drew round the hearth. They were in three parties; of whom the first, as the most numerous and important, was the slowest, and had been overtaken by one of the others on the way up. |
| 7960 |
These were attended (not to mention four guides), by a courier, two footmen, and two waiting maids: which strong body of inconvenience was accommodated elsewhere under the same roof. The party that had overtaken them, and followed in their train, consisted of only three members: one lady and two gentlemen. |
| 7961 |
The insinuating traveller, acknowledging the flourish with an inclination of his head, passed from the Chief to the second young lady, who had not yet been referred to otherwise than as one of the ladies in whose behalf he felt so sensitive an interest. He hoped she was not incommoded by the fatigues of the day. |
| 7962 |
It was like the supper of an ordinary Swiss hotel, and good red wine grown by the convent in more genial air was not wanting. The artist traveller calmly came and took his place at table when the rest sat down, with no apparent sense upon him of his late skirmish with the completely dressed traveller. |
| 7963 |
No sooner had the artist traveller ceased speaking than he himself spoke with great dignity, as having it incumbent on him to take the lead in most places, and having deserted that duty for a little while. He weightily communicated his opinion to their host, that his life must be a very dreary life here in the winter. |
| 7964 |
With a deprecating smile, the host gently raised and gently lowered his shoulders. That was true, he remarked, but permit him to say that almost all objects had their various points of view. Monsieur and he did not see this poor life of his from the same point of view. Monsieur was not used to confinement. |
| 7965 |
Monsieur could not easily place himself in the position of a person who had not the power to choose, I will go here to morrow, or there next day; I will pass these barriers, I will enlarge those bounds. Monsieur could not realise, perhaps, how the mind accommodated itself in such things to the force of necessity. |
| 7966 |
She was at a loss which way to turn when she had softly closed the door; but, after a little hesitation among the sounding passages and the many ways, came to a room in a corner of the main gallery, where the servants were at their supper. From these she obtained a lamp, and a direction to the lady's room. |
| 7967 |
Here and there, the bare white walls were broken by an iron grate, and she thought as she went along that the place was something like a prison. The arched door of the lady's room, or cell, was not quite shut. After knocking at it two or three times without receiving an answer, she pushed it gently open, and looked in. |
| 7968 |
A stiff commissariat officer of sixty, famous as a martinet, had then become enamoured of the gravity with which she drove the proprieties four in hand through the cathedral town society, and had solicited to be taken beside her on the box of the cool coach of ceremony to which that team was harnessed. |
| 7969 |
The execution of this trust occupied Mrs General about seven years, in the course of which time she made the tour of Europe, and saw most of that extensive miscellany of objects which it is essential that all persons of polite cultivation should see with other people's eyes, and never with their own. |
| 7970 |
If they had known about us, you might have felt yourself called upon to conciliate them. That would have been a weak and ridiculous mistake, but I can respect a mistake, whereas I can't respect a wilful and deliberate abasing of those who should be nearest and dearest to us. No. I can't respect that. |
| 7971 |
Mr Gowan stood aloof with his cigar and pencil, but Mr Blandois was on the spot to pay his respects to the ladies. When he gallantly pulled off his slouched hat to Little Dorrit, she thought he had even a more sinister look, standing swart and cloaked in the snow, than he had in the fire light over night. |
| 7972 |
The host called all the universe to witness that Monseigneur was the most amiable of the whole body of nobility, the most important, the most estimable, the most honoured. If he separated Monseigneur from others, it was only because he was more distinguished, more cherished, more generous, more renowned. |
| 7973 |
Upon this the bosom bent to him; and its owner, with a wonderful command of feature, addressed a winning smile of adieu to the two sisters, as young ladies of fortune in whose favour she was much prepossessed, and whom she had never had the gratification of seeing before. Not so, however, Mr Sparkler. |
| 7974 |
When we were in Switzerland, which appears to have been years ago, though it was only weeks, I met young Mrs Gowan, who was on a mountain excursion like ourselves. She told me she was very well and very happy. She sent you the message, by me, that she thanked you affectionately and would never forget you. |
| 7975 |
Changed as he is, and inexpressibly blest and thankful as I always am to know it, the old sorrowful feeling of compassion comes upon me sometimes with such strength that I want to put my arms round his neck, tell him how I love him, and cry a little on his breast. I should be glad after that, and proud and happy. |
| 7976 |
It being that period of the forenoon when the various members of the family had coffee in their own chambers, some couple of hours before assembling at breakfast in a faded hall which had once been sumptuous, but was now the prey of watery vapours and a settled melancholy, Mrs General was accessible to the valet. |
| 7977 |
If Tinkler had happened to smile, however faintly and innocently, nothing would have persuaded Mr Dorrit, to the hour of his death, but that this was the case. As Tinkler happened, however, very fortunately for himself, to be of a serious and composed countenance, he escaped the secret danger that threatened him. |
| 7978 |
Apart from such a habit standing in the way of that graceful equanimity of surface which is so expressive of good breeding, it hardly seems compatible with refinement of mind. A truly refined mind will seem to be ignorant of the existence of anything that is not perfectly proper, placid, and pleasant. |
| 7979 |
Little Dorrit, whether speaking or silent, had preserved her quiet earnestness and her loving look. It had not been clouded, except for a passing moment, until now. But now that she was left alone with him the fingers of her lightly folded hands were agitated, and there was repressed emotion in her face. |
| 7980 |
It was never made out what his dazed eyes saw in them; whether he had an interest in them merely as pictures, or whether he confusedly identified them with a glory that was departed, like the strength of his own mind. But he paid his court to them with great exactness, and clearly derived pleasure from the pursuit. |
| 7981 |
She could only remark, as a general principle observed in the varnishing trade, that much depended on the quarter from which the lady under consideration was accredited to a family so conspicuously niched in the social temple as the family of Dorrit. At this remark the face of Mr Dorrit gloomed considerably. |
| 7982 |
I protest against ingratitude. I protest against any one of us here who have known what we have known, and have seen what we have seen, setting up any pretension that puts Amy at a moment's disadvantage, or to the cost of a moment's pain. We may know that it's a base pretension by its having that effect. |
| 7983 |
All this time Fanny had been sobbing and crying, and still continued to do so. Edward, beyond opening his mouth in amazement, had not opened his lips, and had done nothing but stare. Mr Dorrit also had been utterly discomfited, and quite unable to assert himself in any way. Fanny was now the first to speak. |
| 7984 |
To be in the halting state of Mr Henry Gowan; to have left one of two powers in disgust; to want the necessary qualifications for finding promotion with another, and to be loitering moodily about on neutral ground, cursing both; is to be in a situation unwholesome for the mind, which time is not likely to improve. |
| 7985 |
He attended them down the staircase, jocosely apologising for the poor quarters to which such poor fellows as himself were limited, and remarking that when the high and mighty Barnacles, his relatives, who would be dreadfully ashamed of them, presented him with better, he would live in better to oblige them. |
| 7986 |
These remarks made Mr Sparkler (as perhaps they were intended to do) nearly distracted; for while on the one hand they expressed Miss Fanny's susceptibility of the tender passion, she herself showed such an innocent unconsciousness of his admiration that his eyes goggled in his head with jealousy of an unknown rival. |
| 7987 |
It was nothing to her that the kindness took the form of tolerant patronage; she was used to that. It was nothing to her that it kept her in a tributary position, and showed her in attendance on the flaming car in which Miss Fanny sat on an elevated seat, exacting homage; she sought no better place. |
| 7988 |
Mrs General, having long ago formed her own surface to such perfection that it hid whatever was below it (if anything), no observation was to be made in that quarter. Mr Dorrit was undeniably very polite to her and had a high opinion of her; but Fanny, impetuous at most times, might easily be wrong for all that. |
| 7989 |
As though accidents were determined to be favourable to it, they had a new assurance of congeniality in the aversion which each perceived that the other felt towards Blandois of Paris; an aversion amounting to the repugnance and horror of a natural antipathy towards an odious creature of the reptile kind. |
| 7990 |
The period of the family's stay at Venice came, in its course, to an end, and they moved, with their retinue, to Rome. Through a repetition of the former Italian scenes, growing more dirty and more haggard as they went on, and bringing them at length to where the very air was diseased, they passed to their destination. |
| 7991 |
Through the rugged remains of temples and tombs and palaces and senate halls and theatres and amphitheatres of ancient days, hosts of tongue tied and blindfolded moderns were carefully feeling their way, incessantly repeating Prunes and Prism in the endeavour to set their lips according to the received form. |
| 7992 |
Daniel Doyce faced his condition with its pains and penalties attached to it, and soberly worked on for the work's sake. Clennam cheering him with a hearty co operation, was a moral support to him, besides doing good service in his business relation. The concern prospered, and the partners were fast friends. |
| 7993 |
No man of sense who has been generally improved, and has improved himself, can be called quite uneducated as to anything. I don't particularly favour mysteries. I would as soon, on a fair and clear explanation, be judged by one class of man as another, provided he had the qualification I have named. |
| 7994 |
His relations with her father and mother were like those on which a widower son in law might have stood. If the twin sister who was dead had lived to pass away in the bloom of womanhood, and he had been her husband, the nature of his intercourse with Mr and Mrs Meagles would probably have been just what it was. |
| 7995 |
Clennam did not fail of his effect upon good Mr Meagles, whom these commendations greatly cheered; and who took Mother to witness that the single and cordial desire of his heart in reference to their daughter's husband, was harmoniously to exchange friendship for friendship, and confidence for confidence. |
| 7996 |
As he had a liking for the spot, he seldom let a week pass without paying a visit. Sometimes, he went down alone from Saturday to Monday; sometimes his partner accompanied him; sometimes, he merely strolled for an hour or two about the house and garden, saw that all was right, and returned to London again. |
| 7997 |
Still bending his head and listening to the girl, he went on at her side, and Clennam followed them, resolved to play this unexpected play out, and see where they went. He had hardly made the determination (though he was not long about it), when he was again as suddenly brought up as he had been by the stoppage. |
| 7998 |
A loud and altered clank upon the pavement warned him, before he could discern what was passing there, that the man was coming back alone. Clennam lounged into the road, towards the railing; and the man passed at a quick swing, with the end of his cloak thrown over his shoulder, singing a scrap of a French song. |
| 7999 |
More than ever bent on seeing what became of them, and on having some information to give his good friend, Mr Meagles, he went out at the further end of the terrace, looking cautiously about him. He rightly judged that, at first at all events, they would go in a contrary direction from their late companion. |
| 8000 |
He might have taken any time to think about it, for Mr Casby, well accustomed to get on anywhere by leaving everything to his bumps and his white hair, knew his strength to lie in silence. So there Casby sat, twirling and twirling, and making his polished head and forehead look largely benevolent in every knob. |
| 8001 |
He has long had money (not overmuch as I make out) in trust to dole out to her when she can't do without it. Sometimes she's proud and won't touch it for a length of time; sometimes she's so poor that she must have it. She writhes under her life. A woman more angry, passionate, reckless, and revengeful never lived. |
| 8002 |
It always affected his imagination as wrathful, mysterious, and sad; and his imagination was sufficiently impressible to see the whole neighbourhood under some tinge of its dark shadow. As he went along, upon a dreary night, the dim streets by which he went, seemed all depositories of oppressive secrets. |
| 8003 |
It was the man; the man he had followed in company with the girl, and whom he had overheard talking to Miss Wade. The street was a sharp descent and was crooked too, and the man (who although not drunk had the air of being flushed with some strong drink) went down it so fast that Clennam lost him as he looked at him. |
| 8004 |
Now I am going to tell you all I can about them, because I know that is what you most want to hear. Theirs is not a very comfortable lodging, but perhaps I thought it less so when I first saw it than you would have done, because you have been in many different countries and have seen many different customs. |
| 8005 |
She has given him a heart that can never be taken back; and however much he may try it, he will never wear out its affection. You know the truth of this, as you know everything, far far better than I; but I cannot help telling you what a nature she shows, and that you can never think too well of her. |
| 8006 |
We are all quite well, and Fanny improves every day. You can hardly think how kind she is to me, and what pains she takes with me. She has a lover, who has followed her, first all the way from Switzerland, and then all the way from Venice, and who has just confided to me that he means to follow her everywhere. |
| 8007 |
All people knew (or thought they knew) that he had made himself immensely rich; and, for that reason alone, prostrated themselves before him, more degradedly and less excusably than the darkest savage creeps out of his hole in the ground to propitiate, in some log or reptile, the Deity of his benighted soul. |
| 8008 |
He looked on at these dinners when the bosom was not there, as he looked on at other dinners when the bosom was there; and his eye was a basilisk to Mr Merdle. He was a hard man, and would never bate an ounce of plate or a bottle of wine. He would not allow a dinner to be given, unless it was up to his mark. |
| 8009 |
This eminent gentleman and Mr Merdle, seated diverse ways and with ruminating aspects on a yellow ottoman in the light of the fire, holding no verbal communication with each other, bore a strong general resemblance to the two cows in the Cuyp picture over against them. But now, Lord Decimus arrived. |
| 8010 |
All buttoned up men are believed in. Whether or no the reserved and never exercised power of unbuttoning, fascinates mankind; whether or no wisdom is supposed to condense and augment when buttoned up, and to evaporate when unbuttoned; it is certain that the man to whom importance is accorded is the buttoned up man. |
| 8011 |
It was nothing to her that Plornish had a habit of leaning against it as he smoked his pipe after work, when his hat blotted out the pigeon house and all the pigeons, when his back swallowed up the dwelling, when his hands in his pockets uprooted the blooming garden and laid waste the adjacent country. |
| 8012 |
And truly if that famous period had been revived, or had ever been at all, it may be doubted whether it would have produced many more heartily admiring daughters than the poor woman. Warned of a visitor by the tinkling bell at the shop door, Mrs Plornish came out of Happy Cottage to see who it might be. |
| 8013 |
Mr Pancks was making a very porcupine of himself by sticking his hair up in the contemplation of this state of accounts, when old Mr Nandy, re entering the cottage with an air of mystery, entreated them to come and look at the strange behaviour of Mr Baptist, who seemed to have met with something that had scared him. |
| 8014 |
As often as the little bell rang, he started and peeped out secretly, with the end of the little curtain in his hand and the rest before his face; evidently not at all satisfied but that the man he dreaded had tracked him through all his doublings and turnings, with the certainty of a terrible bloodhound. |
| 8015 |
The news made a sensation in the cottage which drew off the general attention from Mr Baptist. Maggy, who pushed her way into the foreground immediately, would have seemed to draw in the tidings of her Little Mother equally at her ears, nose, mouth, and eyes, but that the last were obstructed by tears. |
| 8016 |
She was particularly delighted when Clennam assured her that there were hospitals, and very kindly conducted hospitals, in Rome. Mr Pancks rose into new distinction in virtue of being specially remembered in the letter. Everybody was pleased and interested, and Clennam was well repaid for his trouble. |
| 8017 |
Thenceforward, Amy observed Mr Sparkler's treatment by his enslaver, with new reasons for attaching importance to all that passed between them. There were times when Fanny appeared quite unable to endure his mental feebleness, and when she became so sharply impatient of it that she would all but dismiss him for good. |
| 8018 |
Mr Sparkler, finding himself stunned by the words thus heaped upon his inoffensive head, made a brief though pertinent rejoinder; the same being neither more nor less than that he had long perceived Miss Fanny to have no nonsense about her, and that he had no doubt of its being all right with his Governor. |
| 8019 |
For one cannot but see the great probability of your considering such things from Mr Merdle's own point of view, except indeed that circumstances have made it Mr Merdle's accidental fortune, or misfortune, to be engaged in business transactions, and that they, however vast, may a little cramp his horizons. |
| 8020 |
Flora, putting aside her veil with a bashful tremor upon her, proceeded to introduce herself. At the same time a singular combination of perfumes was diffused through the room, as if some brandy had been put by mistake in a lavender water bottle, or as if some lavender water had been put by mistake in a brandy bottle. |
| 8021 |
His time in London was very nearly out, and was anticipated by engagements; his plans were made for returning; and he thought it behoved his importance to pursue some direct inquiry into the Blandois disappearance, and be in a condition to carry back to Mr Henry Gowan the result of his own personal investigation. |
| 8022 |
Truly, it looked as gloomy that night as even it had ever looked. Two of the handbills were posted on the entrance wall, one on either side, and as the lamp flickered in the night air, shadows passed over them, not unlike the shadows of fingers following the lines. A watch was evidently kept upon the place. |
| 8023 |
As Mr Dorrit paused, a man passed in from over the way, and another man passed out from some dark corner within; and both looked at him in passing, and both remained standing about. As there was only one house in the enclosure, there was no room for uncertainty, so he went up the steps of that house and knocked. |
| 8024 |
Thus they parted; Mr Dorrit entering his carriage with a swelling breast, not at all sorry that his Courier, who had come to take leave in the lower regions, should have an opportunity of beholding the grandeur of his departure. The aforesaid grandeur was yet full upon Mr Dorrit when he alighted at his hotel. |
| 8025 |
It was evident that he had a very large castle in hand. All day long he was running towers up, taking towers down, adding a wing here, putting on a battlement there, looking to the walls, strengthening the defences, giving ornamental touches to the interior, making in all respects a superb castle of it. |
| 8026 |
Good, said Mr Dorrit to the assembling servants; let them keep where they were; let them help to unload the carriage; he would find Miss Dorrit for himself. So he went up his grand staircase, slowly, and tired, and looked into various chambers which were empty, until he saw a light in a small ante room. |
| 8027 |
She was afraid to look at him much, after the offence he had taken; but she noticed two occasions in the course of his meal, when he all of a sudden looked at her, and looked about him, as if the association were so strong that he needed assurance from his sense of sight that they were not in the old prison room. |
| 8028 |
After that, what with dozing and what with castle building, he lost himself for a long time, so that there was a touch of morning on the eastward rim of the desolate Campagna when he crept to bed. Mrs General sent up her compliments in good time next day, and hoped he had rested well after this fatiguing journey. |
| 8029 |
On the return of that lady to tea, she had touched herself up with a little powder and pomatum, and was not without moral enchantment likewise: the latter showing itself in much sweet patronage of manner towards Miss Dorrit, and in an air of as tender interest in Mr Dorrit as was consistent with rigid propriety. |
| 8030 |
He then presented himself in a refulgent condition as to his attire, but looking indefinably shrunken and old. However, as he was plainly determined to be angry with her if she so much as asked him how he was, she only ventured to kiss his cheek, before accompanying him to Mrs Merdle's with an anxious heart. |
| 8031 |
The distance that they had to go was very short, but he was at his building work again before the carriage had half traversed it. Mrs Merdle received him with great distinction; the bosom was in admirable preservation, and on the best terms with itself; the dinner was very choice; and the company was very select. |
| 8032 |
Sometimes she was so worn out that for a few minutes they would slumber together. Then she would awake; to recollect with fast flowing silent tears what it was that touched her face, and to see, stealing over the cherished face upon the pillow, a deeper shadow than the shadow of the Marshalsea Wall. |
| 8033 |
Sleep, good Little Dorrit. Sleep through the night! It was a moonlight night; but the moon rose late, being long past the full. When it was high in the peaceful firmament, it shone through half closed lattice blinds into the solemn room where the stumblings and wanderings of a life had so lately ended. |
| 8034 |
After slipping among oozy piles and planks, stumbling up wet steps and encountering many salt difficulties, the passengers entered on their comfortless peregrination along the pier; where all the French vagabonds and English outlaws in the town (half the population) attended to prevent their recovery from bewilderment. |
| 8035 |
He met new groups of his countrymen, who had all a straggling air of having at one time overblown themselves, like certain uncomfortable kinds of flowers, and of being now mere weeds. They had all an air, too, of lounging out a limited round, day after day, which strongly reminded him of the Marshalsea. |
| 8036 |
And I dare say that if I had wanted to make such a bargain, and if I could have paid him enough, and if he could have done it in the dark, free from all risk, he would have taken any life with as little scruple as he took my money. That, at least, is my opinion of him; and I see it is not very far removed from yours. |
| 8037 |
You are reproaching me, underhanded, with having nobody but you to look to. And because I have nobody but you to look to, you think you are to make me do, or not do, everything you please, and are to put any affront upon me. You are as bad as they were, every bit. But I will not be quite tamed, and made submissive. |
| 8038 |
She had some children of her own family in her house, and some children of other people. All girls; ten in number, including me. We all lived together and were educated together. I must have been about twelve years old when I began to see how determinedly those girls patronised me. I was told I was an orphan. |
| 8039 |
I tried them often. I could hardly make them quarrel with me. When I succeeded with any of them, they were sure to come after an hour or two, and begin a reconciliation. I tried them over and over again, and I never knew them wait for me to begin. They were always forgiving me, in their vanity and condescension. |
| 8040 |
I loved that stupid mite in a passionate way that she could no more deserve than I can remember without feeling ashamed of, though I was but a child. She had what they called an amiable temper, an affectionate temper. She could distribute, and did distribute pretty looks and smiles to every one among them. |
| 8041 |
However, I loved her faithfully; and one time I went home with her for the holidays. She was worse at home than she had been at school. She had a crowd of cousins and acquaintances, and we had dances at her house, and went out to dances at other houses, and, both at home and out, she tormented my love beyond endurance. |
| 8042 |
It came to an end, and I was relieved. In the family there was an aunt who was not fond of me. I doubt if any of the family liked me much; but I never wanted them to like me, being altogether bound up in the one girl. The aunt was a young woman, and she had a serious way with her eyes of watching me. |
| 8043 |
Before I left them, I learned that I had no grandmother and no recognised relation. I carried the light of that information both into my past and into my future. It showed me many new occasions on which people triumphed over me, when they made a pretence of treating me with consideration, or doing me a service. |
| 8044 |
The mother was young and pretty. From the first, she made a show of behaving to me with great delicacy. I kept my resentment to myself; but I knew very well that it was her way of petting the knowledge that she was my Mistress, and might have behaved differently to her servant if it had been her fancy. |
| 8045 |
If there happened to be anything choice at table, she always sent it to me: but I always declined it, and ate of the rejected dishes. These disappointments of her patronage were a sharp retort, and made me feel independent. I liked the children. They were timid, but on the whole disposed to attach themselves to me. |
| 8046 |
Her artful devices for keeping herself before the children in constant competition with me, might have blinded many in my place; but I saw through them from the first. On the pretext of arranging my rooms and waiting on me and taking care of my wardrobe (all of which she did busily), she was never absent. |
| 8047 |
The parents here were elderly people: people of station, and rich. A nephew whom they had brought up was a frequent visitor at the house, among many other visitors; and he began to pay me attention. I was resolute in repulsing him; for I had determined when I went there, that no one should pity me or condescend to me. |
| 8048 |
He was a year younger than I, and young looking even when that allowance was made. He was on absence from India, where he had a post that was soon to grow into a very good one. In six months we were to be married, and were to go to India. I was to stay in the house, and was to be married from the house. |
| 8049 |
I cannot avoid saying he admired me; but, if I could, I would. Vanity has nothing to do with the declaration, for his admiration worried me. He took no pains to hide it; and caused me to feel among the rich people as if he had bought me for my looks, and made a show of his purchase to justify himself. |
| 8050 |
I told him I did, and it was because I did and meant to do so to the last, that I would not stoop to propitiate any of them. He was concerned and even shocked, when I added that I wished he would not parade his attachment before them; but he said he would sacrifice even the honest impulses of his affection to my peace. |
| 8051 |
He had been intimate there for a long time, but had been abroad. He understood the state of things at a glance, and he understood me. He was the first person I had ever seen in my life who had understood me. He was not in the house three times before I knew that he accompanied every movement of my mind. |
| 8052 |
Her other servants would probably be grateful for good characters, but I wanted none. Other conversation followed, and induced me to ask her how she knew that it was only necessary for her to make a suggestion to me, to have it obeyed? Did she presume on my birth, or on my hire? I was not bought, body and soul. |
| 8053 |
She told me, with assumed commiseration, that I had an unhappy temper. On this repetition of the old wicked injury, I withheld no longer, but exposed to her all I had known of her and seen in her, and all I had undergone within myself since I had occupied the despicable position of being engaged to her nephew. |
| 8054 |
So he said, and I did not contradict him. It was not very long before I found that he was courting his present wife, and that she had been taken away to be out of his reach. I hated her then, quite as much as I hate her now; and naturally, therefore, could desire nothing better than that she should marry him. |
| 8055 |
Accordingly, the men who were wanted were sought out and found; which was in itself a most uncivilised and irregular way of proceeding. Being found, they were treated with great confidence and honour (which again showed dense political ignorance), and were invited to come at once and do what they had to do. |
| 8056 |
There was no foreseeing at that time whether he would be absent months or years. The preparations for his departure, and the conscientious arrangement for him of all the details and results of their joint business, had necessitated labour within a short compass of time, which had occupied Clennam day and night. |
| 8057 |
Cavalletto dropped on one knee, and implored him, with a redundancy of gesticulation, to hear what had brought himself into such foul company. He told with perfect truth how it had come of a little contraband trading, and how he had in time been released from prison, and how he had gone away from those antecedents. |
| 8058 |
The assurance he now had, that Blandois, whatever his right name, was one of the worst of characters, greatly augmented the burden of his anxieties. Though the disappearance should be accounted for to morrow, the fact that his mother had been in communication with such a man, would remain unalterable. |
| 8059 |
The purpose he had brought home to his native country, and had ever since kept in view, was, with her greatest determination, defeated by his mother herself, at the time of all others when he feared that it pressed most. His advice, energy, activity, money, credit, all his resources whatsoever, were all made useless. |
| 8060 |
He was small and bent, and perhaps not actively strong; yet he was as tough as an old yew tree, and as crusty as an old jackdaw. Such a man, coming behind a much younger and more vigorous man, and having the will to put an end to him and no relenting, might do it pretty surely in that solitary place at a late hour. |
| 8061 |
A man of plain habits, he had sent his servants to bed and must needs go down to open the door. He went down, and there found a man without hat or coat, whose shirt sleeves were rolled up tight to his shoulders. For a moment, he thought the man had been fighting: the rather, as he was much agitated and out of breath. |
| 8062 |
He looked closer at the writing, looked at the man, took his hat from its peg, put the key of his door in his pocket, and they hurried away together. When they came to the warm baths, all the other people belonging to that establishment were looking out for them at the door, and running up and down the passages. |
| 8063 |
A sky light had been opened to release the steam with which the room had been filled; but it hung, condensed into water drops, heavily upon the walls, and heavily upon the face and figure in the bath. The room was still hot, and the marble of the bath still warm; but the face and figure were clammy to the touch. |
| 8064 |
He had been clearing his head with a lotion of cold water, as a good preparative to providing hot water for the heads of the jury, and had been reading with the neck of his shirt thrown wide open that he might the more freely choke the opposite witnesses. In consequence, he came down, looking rather wild. |
| 8065 |
In steady progression, as the day declined, the talk rose in sound and purpose. He had left a letter at the Baths addressed to his physician, and his physician had got the letter, and the letter would be produced at the Inquest on the morrow, and it would fall like a thunderbolt upon the multitude he had deluded. |
| 8066 |
Unopened letters and unsorted papers lay strewn about the desk. In the midst of these tokens of prostrated energy and dismissed hope, the master of the Counting house stood idle in his usual place, with his arms crossed on the desk, and his head bowed down upon them. Mr Pancks rushed in and saw him, and stood still. |
| 8067 |
Nothing can be tided over now, Pancks. The sooner the business can pass out of my hands, the better for it. There are engagements to be met, this week, which would bring the catastrophe before many days were over, even if I would postpone it for a single day by going on for that space, secretly knowing what I know. |
| 8068 |
None of us clearly know to whom or to what we are indebted in this wise, until some marked stop in the whirling wheel of life brings the right perception with it. It comes with sickness, it comes with sorrow, it comes with the loss of the dearly loved, it is one of the most frequent uses of adversity. |
| 8069 |
Always, Little Dorrit. Until it seemed to him as if he met the reward of having wandered away from her, and suffered anything to pass between him and his remembrance of her virtues. His door was opened, and the head of the elder Chivery was put in a very little way, without being turned towards him. |
| 8070 |
The room was so far changed that it was papered now, and had been repainted, and was far more comfortably furnished; but he could recall it just as he had seen it in that single glance, when he raised her from the ground and carried her down to the carriage. Young John looked hard at him, biting his fingers. |
| 8071 |
It's all very well to trample on it, but it's there. It may be that it couldn't be trampled upon if it wasn't there. But that doesn't make it gentlemanly, that doesn't make it honourable, that doesn't justify throwing a person back upon himself after he has struggled and strived out of himself like a butterfly. |
| 8072 |
I wish to be honourable and true, so far as in my humble way I can, and I would scorn to pretend for a moment that she ever did, or that she ever led me to believe she did; no, nor even that it was ever to be expected in any cool reason that she would or could. She was far above me in all respects at all times. |
| 8073 |
And touched him with the back of his hand upon the breast, and backed to his chair, and sat down on it with a pale face, holding the arms, and shaking his head at him. If he had dealt Clennam a heavy blow, instead of laying that light touch upon him, its effect could not have been to shake him more. |
| 8074 |
The touch was still in its influence so like a blow that Arthur could not get many words together to close the subject with. He assured John Chivery when he had returned his handkerchief to his pocket, that he did all honour to his disinterestedness and to the fidelity of his remembrance of Miss Dorrit. |
| 8075 |
Little Dorrit love him! More bewildering to him than his misery, far. Consider the improbability. He had been accustomed to call her his child, and his dear child, and to invite her confidence by dwelling upon the difference in their respective ages, and to speak of himself as one who was turning old. |
| 8076 |
Yet she might not have thought him old. Something reminded him that he had not thought himself so, until the roses had floated away upon the river. He had her two letters among other papers in his box, and he took them out and read them. There seemed to be a sound in them like the sound of her sweet voice. |
| 8077 |
They brought with them a basket, filled with choice selections from that stock in trade which met with such a quick sale and produced such a slow return. Mrs Plornish was affected to tears. Mr Plornish amiably growled, in his philosophical but not lucid manner, that there was ups you see, and there was downs. |
| 8078 |
He knew that he idled and moped. After what he had known of the influences of imprisonment within the four small walls of the very room he occupied, this consciousness made him afraid of himself. Shrinking from the observation of other men, and shrinking from his own, he began to change very sensibly. |
| 8079 |
Anybody might see that the shadow of the wall was dark upon him. One day when he might have been some ten or twelve weeks in jail, and when he had been trying to read and had not been able to release even the imaginary people of the book from the Marshalsea, a footstep stopped at his door, and a hand tapped at it. |
| 8080 |
Pardon me, but I think you really have no idea how the human bees will swarm to the beating of any old tin kettle; in that fact lies the complete manual of governing them. When they can be got to believe that the kettle is made of the precious metals, in that fact lies the whole power of men like our late lamented. |
| 8081 |
Mr Pancks followed Cavalletto. Neither of the two had been there since its present occupant had had possession of it. Mr Pancks, breathing hard, sidled near the window, put his hat on the ground, stirred his hair up with both hands, and folded his arms, like a man who had come to a pause in a hard day's work. |
| 8082 |
Haggard anxiety and remorse are bad companions to be barred up with. Brooding all day, and resting very little indeed at night, t will not arm a man against misery. Next morning, Clennam felt that his health was sinking, as his spirits had already sunk and that the weight under which he bent was bearing him down. |
| 8083 |
At the same time a longing for other air, and a yearning to be beyond the blind blank wall, made him feel as if he must go mad with the ardour of the desire. Many other prisoners had had experience of this condition before him, and its violence and continuity had worn themselves out in their cases, as they did in his. |
| 8084 |
As to Young John, who looked in daily at a certain hour, when the turnkeys were relieved, to ask if he could do anything for him; he always made a pretence of being engaged in writing, and to answer cheerfully in the negative. The subject of their only long conversation had never been revived between them. |
| 8085 |
It was not until he had delighted in them for some time, that he wondered who had sent them; and opened his door to ask the woman who must have put them there, how they had come into her hands. But she was gone, and seemed to have been long gone; for the tea she had left for him on the table was cold. |
| 8086 |
When the first faintness consequent on having moved about had left him, he subsided into his former state. One of the night tunes was playing in the wind, when the door of his room seemed to open to a light touch, and, after a moment's pause, a quiet figure seemed to stand there, with a black mantle on it. |
| 8087 |
When that was done, a moment's whisper despatched Maggy to despatch somebody else to fill the basket again; which soon came back replenished with new stores, from which a present provision of cooling drink and jelly, and a prospective supply of roast chicken and wine and water, were the first extracts. |
| 8088 |
She was the last visitor to pass out at the Lodge, and the gate jarred heavily and hopelessly upon her. With the funeral clang that it sounded into Arthur's heart, his sense of weakness returned. It was a toilsome journey up stairs to his room, and he re entered its dark solitary precincts in unutterable misery. |
| 8089 |
Black, all night, since the gate had clashed upon Little Dorrit, its iron stripes were turned by the early glowing sun into stripes of gold. Far aslant across the city, over its jumbled roofs, and through the open tracery of its church towers, struck the long bright rays, bars of the prison of this lower world. |
| 8090 |
Rigaud was the first, and walked by himself smoking. Mr Baptist was the second, and jogged close after him, looking at no other object. Mr Pancks was the third, and carried his hat under his arm for the liberation of his restive hair; the weather being extremely hot. They all came together at the door steps. |
| 8091 |
He had charged himself with drink, for the playing out of his game, and was impatient to begin. He had hardly finished one long resounding knock, when he turned to the knocker again and began another. That was not yet finished when Jeremiah Flintwinch opened the door, and they all clanked into the stone hall. |
| 8092 |
The house door was heard to close upon them, their steps were heard passing over the dull pavement of the echoing court yard, and still nobody had added a word. Mrs Clennam and Jeremiah had exchanged a look; and had then looked, and looked still, at Affery, who sat mending the stocking with great assiduity. |
| 8093 |
He's a talking of them. It was before my time here; but I've heerd in my dreams that Arthur's father was a poor, irresolute, frightened chap, who had had everything but his orphan life scared out of him when he was young, and that he had no voice in the choice of his wife even, but his uncle chose her. |
| 8094 |
I was appointed to find the old letter that referred to them, and that told me what they meant, and whose work they were, and why they were worked, lying with this watch in his secret drawer. But for that appointment there would have been no discovery. "Do not forget." It spoke to me like a voice from an angry cloud. |
| 8095 |
So it lies, long years, in its hiding place. At last, when we are expecting Arthur home every day, and when any day may bring him home, and it's impossible to say what rummaging he may make about the house, I recommend you five thousand times, if you can't get at it, to let me get at it, that it may be put in the fire. |
| 8096 |
His wife died (not that that was much; mine might have died instead, and welcome), he speculated unsuccessfully in lunatics, he got into difficulty about over roasting a patient to bring him to reason, and he got into debt. He was going out of the way, on what he had been able to scrape up, and a trifle from me. |
| 8097 |
I didn't know what to make of it, till this gentleman favoured us with his first visit. Of course, I began to suspect how it was, then; and I don't want his word for it now to understand how he gets his knowledge from my papers, and your paper, and my brother's cognac and tobacco talk (I wish he'd had to gag himself). |
| 8098 |
I can do poor Arthur no good now, that I see; and you needn't be afraid of me. I'll keep your secret. Don't go out, you'll fall dead in the street. Only promise me, that, if it's the poor thing that's kept here secretly, you'll let me take charge of her and be her nurse. Only promise me that, and never be afraid of me. |
| 8099 |
With an empty place in his heart that he has never known the meaning of, he has turned away from me and gone his separate road; but even that he has done considerately and with deference. These have been his relations towards me. Yours have been of a much slighter kind, spread over a much shorter time. |
| 8100 |
They went out by another staircase, avoiding the lodge; and coming into the front court yard, now all quiet and deserted, gained the street. It was one of those summer evenings when there is no greater darkness than a long twilight. The vista of street and bridge was plain to see, and the sky was serene and beautiful. |
| 8101 |
In one swift instant the old house was before them, with the man lying smoking in the window; another thundering sound, and it heaved, surged outward, opened asunder in fifty places, collapsed, and fell. Deafened by the noise, stifled, choked, and blinded by the dust, they hid their faces and stood rooted to the spot. |
| 8102 |
Rumour finally settled the number at two; the foreigner and Mr Flintwinch. The diggers dug all through the short night by flaring pipes of gas, and on a level with the early sun, and deeper and deeper below it as it rose into its zenith, and aslant of it as it declined, and on a level with it again as it departed. |
| 8103 |
In their later conferences his snorting assumed an irritable sound which boded the Patriarch no good; likewise, Mr Pancks had on several occasions looked harder at the Patriarchal bumps than was quite reconcilable with the fact of his not being a painter, or a peruke maker in search of the living model. |
| 8104 |
Everybody else within the bills of mortality was hot; but the Patriarch was perfectly cool. Everybody was thirsty, and the Patriarch was drinking. There was a fragrance of limes or lemons about him; and he made a drink of golden sherry, which shone in a large tumbler as if he were drinking the evening sunshine. |
| 8105 |
You're one of a lot of impostors that are the worst lot of all the lots to be met with. Speaking as a sufferer by both, I don't know that I wouldn't as soon have the Merdle lot as your lot. You're a driver in disguise, a screwer by deputy, a wringer, and squeezer, and shaver by substitute. You're a philanthropic sneak. |
| 8106 |
I haven't been agreeable to myself, and I haven't been likely to be agreeable to anybody else. If I was a shilling a week less useful in ten years' time, this impostor would give me a shilling a week less; if as useful a man could be got at sixpence cheaper, he would be taken in my place at sixpence cheaper. |
| 8107 |
Before the frightful results of this desperate action, Mr Pancks himself recoiled in consternation. A bare polled, goggle eyed, big headed lumbering personage stood staring at him, not in the least impressive, not in the least venerable, who seemed to have started out of the earth to ask what was become of Casby. |
| 8108 |
It followed that Mrs Merdle, as a woman of fashion and good breeding who had been sacrificed to the wiles of a vulgar barbarian (for Mr Merdle was found out from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, the moment he was found out in his pocket), must be actively championed by her order for her order's sake. |
| 8109 |
On the profits of his intrepidity, Mrs Sparkler and Mrs Merdle, inhabiting different floors of the genteel little temple of inconvenience to which the smell of the day before yesterday's soup and coach horses was as constant as Death to man, arrayed themselves to fight it out in the lists of Society, sworn rivals. |
| 8110 |
On a balance of the account, however, it may be doubted whether he lost much; for, although he found no property, he found so many debts and various associations of discredit with the proper name, which was the only word he made intelligible, that he was almost everywhere overwhelmed with injurious accusations. |
| 8111 |
Don't take offence, because it's the plainest question in the world, and might be asked of any one. The documents I refer to were not his own, were wrongfully obtained, might at some time or other be troublesome to an innocent person to have in keeping, and are sought by the people to whom they really belong. |
| 8112 |
There was the room the Marshal had lent her, up stairs, in which they could wait for her, if they pleased. Mistrustful that it might be hazardous to Arthur to see him without preparation, Mr Meagles accepted the offer; and they were left shut up in the room, looking down through its barred window into the jail. |
| 8113 |
The cramped area of the prison had such an effect on Mrs Meagles that she began to weep, and such an effect on Mr Meagles that he began to gasp for air. He was walking up and down the room, panting, and making himself worse by laboriously fanning himself with her handkerchief, when he turned towards the opening door. |
| 8114 |
So, from the seashore the ocean was no longer to be seen lying asleep in the heat, but its thousand sparkling eyes were open, and its whole breadth was in joyful animation, from the cool sand on the beach to the little sails on the horizon, drifting away like autumn tinted leaves that had drifted from the trees. |
| 8115 |
At no Mother's knee but hers had he ever dwelt in his youth on hopeful promises, on playful fancies, on the harvests of tenderness and humility that lie hidden in the early fostered seeds of the imagination; on the oaks of retreat from blighting winds, that have the germs of their strong roots in nursery acorns. |
| 8116 |
It affects the whole machine, and failure is the consequence. You will profit by the failure, and will avoid it another time. I have done a similar thing myself, in construction, often. Every failure teaches a man something, if he will learn; and you are too sensible a man not to learn from this failure. |
| 8117 |
Its worm eaten doors, and low ceilings crossed by clumsy beams; its walls of wainscot, dark stairs, and gaping closets; its small chambers, communicating with each other by winding passages or narrow steps; its many nooks, scarce larger than its corner cupboards; its very dust and dulness, are all dear to me. |
| 8118 |
The moth and spider are my constant tenants; for in my house the one basks in his long sleep, and the other plies his busy loom secure and undisturbed. I have a pleasure in thinking on a summer's day how many butterflies have sprung for the first time into light and sunshine from some dark corner of these old walls. |
| 8119 |
I have never been made a misanthrope by this cause. I have never been stung by any insult, nor wounded by any jest upon my crooked figure. As a child I was melancholy and timid, but that was because the gentle consideration paid to my misfortune sunk deep into my spirit and made me sad, even in those early days. |
| 8120 |
Its fame is diffused so extensively throughout the neighbourhood, that I have often the satisfaction of hearing the publican, or the baker, and sometimes even the parish clerk, petitioning my housekeeper (of whom I shall have much to say by and by) to inform him the exact time by Master Humphrey's clock. |
| 8121 |
We are men of secluded habits, with something of a cloud upon our early fortunes, whose enthusiasm, nevertheless, has not cooled with age, whose spirit of romance is not yet quenched, who are content to ramble through the world in a pleasant dream, rather than ever waken again to its harsh realities. |
| 8122 |
He was a very substantial citizen indeed. His face was like the full moon in a fog, with two little holes punched out for his eyes, a very ripe pear stuck on for his nose, and a wide gash to serve for a mouth. The girth of his waistcoat was hung up and lettered in his tailor's shop as an extraordinary curiosity. |
| 8123 |
He went next day to the dinner; and when in a burst of light and music, and in the midst of splendid decorations and surrounded by brilliant company, his former friend appeared at the head of the Hall, and was hailed with shouts and cheering, he cheered and shouted with the best, and for the moment could have cried. |
| 8124 |
From this elevated post, which commanded the whole hall, he amused himself in looking down upon the attendants who were clearing away the fragments of the feast very lazily, and drinking out of all the bottles and glasses with most commendable perseverance. His attention gradually relaxed, and he fell fast asleep. |
| 8125 |
He began now to comprehend that he must have slept a long time, that he had been overlooked, and was shut up there for the night. His first sensation, perhaps, was not altogether a comfortable one, for it was a dark, chilly, earthy smelling place, and something too large, for a man so situated, to feel at home in. |
| 8126 |
He was very much astonished when he approached the gallery again, to see a light in the building: still more so, on advancing hastily and looking round, to observe no visible source from which it could proceed. But how much greater yet was his astonishment at the spectacle which this light revealed. |
| 8127 |
But even at that minute curiosity prevailed over every other feeling, and somewhat reassured by the good humour of the Giants and their apparent unconsciousness of his presence, he crouched in a corner of the gallery, in as small a space as he could, and, peeping between the rails, observed them closely. |
| 8128 |
The axe, the block, the rack, in their dark chambers give signs of recent use. The Thames, floating past long lines of cheerful windows whence come a burst of music and a stream of light, bears suddenly to the Palace wall the last red stain brought on the tide from Traitor's Gate. But your pardon, brother. |
| 8129 |
In those times no less than in the present it would seem that the richest looking cavaliers often wanted money the most. Of these glittering clients there was one who always came alone. He was nobly mounted, and, having no attendant, gave his horse in charge to Hugh while he and the Bowyer were closeted within. |
| 8130 |
But how much deeper was the glow that reddened in his cheeks when, raising his eyes to the casement, he saw that Alice watched the stranger too! He came again and often, each time arrayed more gaily than before, and still the little casement showed him Mistress Alice. At length one heavy day, she fled from home. |
| 8131 |
At first the old man's wrath was kindled, and he carried his wrong to the Queen's throne itself; but there was no redress he learnt at Court, for his daughter had been conveyed abroad. This afterwards appeared to be the truth, as there came from France, after an interval of several years, a letter in her hand. |
| 8132 |
From the time of Alice's flight, the tilting ground, the fields, the fencing school, the summer evening sports, knew Hugh no more. His spirit was dead within him. He rose to great eminence and repute among the citizens, but was seldom seen to smile, and never mingled in their revelries or rejoicings. |
| 8133 |
Everything was in its old place. Her bed looked as if she had risen from it but that morning. The sight of these familiar objects, marking the dear remembrance in which she had been held, and the blight she had brought upon herself, was more than the woman's better nature that had carried her there could bear. |
| 8134 |
Then came a third, a sturdy old officer of the army, girded with a rapier at least a foot and a half beyond her Majesty's pleasure; at him they raised a great shout, and most of the spectators (but especially those who were armourers or cutlers) laughed very heartily at the breakage which would ensue. |
| 8135 |
The nobleman (for he looked one) had a haughty and disdainful air, which bespoke the slight estimation in which he held the citizen. The citizen, on the other hand, preserved the resolute bearing of one who was not to be frowned down or daunted, and who cared very little for any nobility but that of worth and manhood. |
| 8136 |
The clash of swords and roar of voices, the dust and heat and pressure, the trampling under foot of men, the distracted looks and shrieks of women at the windows above as they recognised their relatives or lovers in the crowd, the rapid tolling of alarm bells, the furious rage and passion of the scene, were fearful. |
| 8137 |
After a short time some of the flushed and heated throng laid down their arms and softly carried the body within doors. Others fell off or slunk away in knots of two or three, others whispered together in groups, and before a numerous guard which then rode up could muster in the street, it was nearly empty. |
| 8138 |
If you want a reference, ask any of the men at our club. Ask any fellow who goes there to write his letters, what sort of conversation mine is. Ask him if he thinks I have the sort of voice that will suit your deaf friend and make him hear, if he can hear anything at all. Ask the servants what they think of me. |
| 8139 |
I know the name of every man who has been out on an affair of honour within the last five and twenty years; I know the private particulars of every cross and squabble that has taken place upon the turf, at the gaming table, or elsewhere, during the whole of that time. I have been called the gentlemanly chronicle. |
| 8140 |
I love all times and seasons each in its turn, and am apt, perhaps, to think the present one the best; but past or coming I always love this peaceful time of night, when long buried thoughts, favoured by the gloom and silence, steal from their graves, and haunt the scenes of faded happiness and hope. |
| 8141 |
He was aware that somebody had entered, but could see very little of me, as I sat in the shade and he in the light. He was sad and thoughtful, and I forbore to trouble him by speaking. Let me believe it was something better than curiosity which riveted my attention and impelled me strongly towards this gentleman. |
| 8142 |
The only interruptions to his careless cheerfulness are on a wet Sunday, when he is apt to be unusually religious and solemn, and sometimes of an evening, when he has been blowing a very slow tune on the flute. On these last named occasions he is apt to incline towards the mysterious, or the terrible. |
| 8143 |
Everything that is a favourite with our friend is a favourite with us; and thus it happens that the fourth among us is Mr. Owen Miles, a most worthy gentleman, who had treated Jack with great kindness before my deaf friend and I encountered him by an accident, to which I may refer on some future occasion. |
| 8144 |
He is an excellent man, of thoroughly sterling character: not of quick apprehension, and not without some amusing prejudices, which I shall leave to their own development. He holds us all in profound veneration; but Jack Redburn he esteems as a kind of pleasant wonder, that he may venture to approach familiarly. |
| 8145 |
It was my habit to lead them on to this avowal; for I knew what comparisons they must draw between us; and having a rankling envy in my heart, I sought to justify it to myself. We had married two sisters. This additional tie between us, as it may appear to some, only estranged us the more. His wife knew me well. |
| 8146 |
We had no children; and as there had been a strong affection between the sisters, and my wife had almost supplied the place of a mother to this boy, she loved him as if he had been her own. The child was ardently attached to her; but he was his mother's image in face and spirit, and always mistrusted me. |
| 8147 |
All my thoughts were bound up and knotted together in the one absorbing necessity of hiding what I had done. How I felt when they came to tell me that the child was missing, when I ordered scouts in all directions, when I gasped and trembled at every one's approach, no tongue can tell or mind of man conceive. |
| 8148 |
The men who laid down the grass must have thought me mad. I called to them continually to expedite their work, ran out and worked beside them, trod down the earth with my feet, and hurried them with frantic eagerness. They had finished their task before night, and then I thought myself comparatively safe. |
| 8149 |
Master Humphrey has been favoured with the following letter written on strongly scented paper, and sealed in light blue wax with the representation of two very plump doves interchanging beaks. It does not commence with any of the usual forms of address, but begins as is here set forth. Bath, Wednesday night. |
| 8150 |
He brought some verses in his hat, which he said were original, but which I have since found were Milton's; likewise a little bottle labelled laudanum; also a pistol and a sword stick. He drew the latter, uncorked the former, and clicked the trigger of the pocket fire arm. He had come, he said, to conquer or to die. |
| 8151 |
I have been led by this habit to assign to every room in my house and every old staring portrait on its walls a separate interest of its own. Thus, I am persuaded that a stately dame, terrible to behold in her rigid modesty, who hangs above the chimney piece of my bedroom, is the former lady of the mansion. |
| 8152 |
Then he would retire a pace or two and look up at the dial to see it go, and then draw near again and stand with his head on one side to hear it tick: never failing to glance towards me at intervals of a few seconds each, and nod his head with such complacent gratification as I am quite unable to describe. |
| 8153 |
I should have been well pleased, and should have had the utmost enjoyment of his company, if he had remained with me all day, but my favourite, striking the hour, reminded him that he must take his leave. I could not forbear telling him once more how glad he had made me, and we shook hands all the way down stairs. |
| 8154 |
Then there was another shout, and he turned round once more and ran the other way. After several of these vibrations, the man settled the question by taking Mr. Pickwick by the arm and putting him into the carriage; but his last action was to let down the window and wave his hat to me as it drove off. |
| 8155 |
Still the press teemed with strange and terrible news from the North or the South, or the East or the West, relative to witches and their unhappy victims in some corner of the country, and the Public's hair stood on end to that degree that it lifted its hat off its head, and made its face pale with terror. |
| 8156 |
John Podgers, in a high sugar loaf hat and short cloak, filled the opposite seat, and surveyed the auditory with a look of mingled pride and horror very edifying to see; while the hearers, with their heads thrust forward and their mouths open, listened and trembled, and hoped there was a great deal more to come. |
| 8157 |
The potentates of the town kept so uncommonly close to Will that they trod upon his toes, or stumbled against his ankles, or nearly tripped up his heels at every step he took, and, besides these annoyances, their teeth chattered so with fear, that he seemed to be accompanied by a dirge of castanets. |
| 8158 |
Will was a daring fellow, and cared not a jot for hard knocks or sharp blades; but he could not persuade himself to move or walk about, having just that vague expectation of a sudden assault which made it a comfortable thing to have something at his back, even though that something were a gallows tree. |
| 8159 |
One of these (his own apparently), in obedience to a whisper from the women, he consigned to Will, who, seeing that they mounted, mounted also. Then, without a word spoken, they rode on together, leaving the attendant behind. They made no halt nor slackened their pace until they arrived near Putney. |
| 8160 |
He had not been here very long, when the door was softly opened, and there entered to him a cavalier whose face was concealed beneath a black mask. Will stood upon his guard, and scrutinised this figure from head to foot. The form was that of a man pretty far advanced in life, but of a firm and stately carriage. |
| 8161 |
In this case the temptation was great, and the punishment, even in case of detection, was not likely to be very severe, as Will came of a loyal stock, and his uncle was in good repute, and a passable tale to account for his possession of the body and his ignorance of the identity might be easily devised. |
| 8162 |
By this dim and solemn glare, which made Will feel as though light itself were dead, and its tomb the dreary arches that frowned above, they placed the coffin in the vault, with uncovered heads, and closed it up. One of the torch bearers then turned to Will, and stretched forth his hand, in which was a purse of gold. |
| 8163 |
Years and years after this adventure, it was his wont to tell her upon a stormy night that it was a great comfort to him to think those bones, to whomsoever they might have once belonged, were not bleaching in the troubled air, but were mouldering away with the dust of their own kith and kindred in a quiet grave. |
| 8164 |
We all looked forward with some impatience to the occasion which would enroll him among us, but I am greatly mistaken if Jack Redburn and myself were not by many degrees the most impatient of the party. At length the night came, and a few minutes after ten Mr. Pickwick's knock was heard at the street door. |
| 8165 |
The difference between us must have been more striking yet, as we advanced towards the table, and the amiable gentleman, adapting his jocund step to my poor tread, had his attention divided between treating my infirmities with the utmost consideration, and affecting to be wholly unconscious that I required any. |
| 8166 |
He had evidently some vague idea, at the moment, that my friend being deaf must be dumb also; for when the latter opened his lips to express the pleasure it afforded him to know a gentleman of whom he had heard so much, Mr. Pickwick was so extremely disconcerted, that I was obliged to step in to his relief. |
| 8167 |
We pardon him his presumption in consideration of his good intentions, and his keeping this respectful distance, which last penalty is insisted on, lest by secretly wounding the object of our regard in some tender part, in the ardour of his zeal for its improvement, he should fill us with dismay and consternation. |
| 8168 |
At sight of these arrangements Mr. Weller was at first distracted between his love of joviality and his doubts whether they were not to be considered as so many evidences of captivation having already taken place; but he soon yielded to his natural impulse, and took his seat at the table with a very jolly countenance. |
| 8169 |
The pipe was ignited, Mr. Weller drew a long puff of smoke, and detecting himself in the very act of smiling on the housekeeper, put a sudden constraint upon his countenance and looked sternly at the candle, with a determination not to captivate, himself, or encourage thoughts of captivation in others. |
| 8170 |
I must confess that, as Mr. Pickwick and he are constantly together, I have been influenced, in making this request, by a secret desire to know something of their proceedings. On the evening in question, the housekeeper's room was arranged with particular care, and the housekeeper herself was very smartly dressed. |
| 8171 |
A modest ring at the bell at length allayed her fears, and Miss Benton, hurrying into her own room and shutting herself up, in order that she might preserve that appearance of being taken by surprise which is so essential to the polite reception of visitors, awaited their coming with a smiling countenance. |
| 8172 |
Besides having a very round face strongly resembling Mr. Weller's, and a stout little body of exactly his build, this young gentleman, standing with his little legs very wide apart, as if the top boots were familiar to them, actually winked upon the housekeeper with his infant eye, in imitation of his grandfather. |
| 8173 |
Punctual to the hour, my friends appeared. On our last night of meeting, we had finished the story which the reader has just concluded. Our conversation took the same current as the meditations which the entrance of my friends had interrupted, and The Old Curiosity Shop was the staple of our discourse. |
| 8174 |
I don't like his withholding his name. It made me look upon him at first with suspicion, and caused me to doubt his moral character, I assure you. I am fully satisfied by this time of his being a worthy creature; but in this respect he certainly would not appear to have acted at all like a man of business. |
| 8175 |
It did not mark the flight of every moment with a gentle second stroke, as though it would check old Time, and have him stay his pace in pity, but measured it with one sledge hammer beat, as if its business were to crush the seconds as they came trooping on, and remorselessly to clear a path before the Day of Judgment. |
| 8176 |
As it is against our rules, in such a case, to inquire into the authorship until the reading is concluded, I could only glance at the different faces round me, in search of some expression which should betray the writer. Whoever he might be, he was prepared for this, and gave no sign for my enlightenment. |
| 8177 |
How often watched it slowly pointing round the dial, and, while I panted for the eagerly expected hour to come, admired, despite myself, its steadiness of purpose and lofty freedom from all human strife, impatience, and desire! I thought it cruel once. It was very hard of heart, to my mind, I remember. |
| 8178 |
Our dear friend laid down his pen at the end of the foregoing paragraph, to take it up no more. I little thought ever to employ mine upon so sorrowful a task as that which he has left me, and to which I now devote it. As he did not appear among us at his usual hour next morning, we knocked gently at his door. |
| 8179 |
No answer being given, it was softly opened; and then, to our surprise, we saw him seated before the ashes of his fire, with a little table I was accustomed to set at his elbow when I left him for the night at a short distance from him, as though he had pushed it away with the idea of rising and retiring to his bed. |
| 8180 |
Our friend had frequently told us that his will would be found in a box in the Clock case, the key of which was in his writing desk. As he had told us also that he desired it to be opened immediately after his death, whenever that should happen, we met together that night for the fulfilment of his request. |
| 8181 |
We are all of opinion, however, that the old gentleman's danger, even at its crisis, was very slight, and that he merely laboured under one of those transitory weaknesses to which persons of his temperament are now and then liable, and which become less and less alarming at every return, until they wholly subside. |
| 8182 |
Happily I was enabled to do so some time ago. And it will not be long, with Heaven's leave, before she is restored to me; before I find in her and her husband the support of my declining years. For my pipe, it is an old relic of home, a thing of no great worth, a poor trifle, but sacred to me for her sake. |
| 8183 |
Thus, since the death of our venerable friend, Jack Redburn and I have been the sole tenants of the old house; and, day by day, have lounged together in his favourite walks. Mindful of his injunctions, we have long been able to speak of him with ease and cheerfulness, and to remember him as he would be remembered. |
| 8184 |
From certain allusions which Jack has dropped, to his having been deserted and cast off in early life, I am inclined to believe that some passages of his youth may possibly be shadowed out in the history of Mr. Chester and his son, but seeing that he avoids the subject, I have not pursued it. My task is done. |
| 8185 |
The Attorney General for Ireland, turning his sword into a ploughshare, might conduct the prosecution; and Mr. Cobden and the other traversers might adopt any ground of defence they chose, or prove or disprove anything they pleased, without being embarrassed by the least anxiety or doubt in reference to the verdict. |
| 8186 |
He has no attachment to the soil, but travels on a road of iron, furnace wrought. His warning is not conveyed in the fine old Saxon dialect of our glorious forefathers, but in a fiendish yell. He never cries "ya hip", with agricultural lungs; but jerks forth a manufactured shriek from a brazen throat. |
| 8187 |
But that is not the question now. It is conspired against; and we have given a few proofs of the conspiracy, as they shine out of various classes engaged in it. An indictment against the whole manufacturing interest need not be longer, surely, than the indictment in the case of the Crown against O'Connell and others. |
| 8188 |
But all men can't be gifted, Mr. Hood. Neither scientific, literary, nor artistical powers are any more to be inherited than the property arising from scientific, literary, or artistic productions, which the law, with a beautiful imitation of nature, declines to protect in the second generation. Very good, sir. |
| 8189 |
The dwarf being the favourite, sir, it is certain that the public mind will run in a great and eminent degree upon the production of dwarfs. Perhaps the failures only will be brought up, wild. The imagination goes a long way in these cases; and all that the imagination can do, will be done, and is doing. |
| 8190 |
I will not expatiate upon the number of dwarfs who will be found representing Grecian statues in all parts of the metropolis; because I am inclined to think that this will be a change for the better; and that the engagement of two or three in Trafalgar Square will tend to the improvement of the public taste. |
| 8191 |
These were very jocosely received in general; but everybody knew where it was, and gave the right direction to it. The prevailing idea among the loungers (the greater part of them the very sweepings of the streets and station houses) seemed to be, that the teachers were quixotic, and the school upon the whole "a lark". |
| 8192 |
But, his calculations going to the gain and not to the loss, he had no balance for the consequences of what he did. So, it would have been more safe and prudent in the woman who was hanged a few weeks since, for the murder in Westminster, to have simply robbed her old companion in an unguarded moment, as in her sleep. |
| 8193 |
In a duel, a gentleman may shoot his opponent through the head, but the opponent may shoot him too, and this makes it fair. Very well. I take this man's life for a reason I have, or choose to think I have, and the law takes mine. The law says, and the clergyman says, there must be blood for blood and life for life. |
| 8194 |
More than this; a clue to the mental connection of the deed, with the punishment to which the doer of that deed is liable, until the two, conjoined, give birth to monstrous and misshapen Murder. The idea of murder, in such a case, like that of self destruction in the great majority of instances, is not a new one. |
| 8195 |
Let her not be too sure of that; "though he should be hanged for it". Thus, he begins to raise up, in the contemplation of this death by hanging, a new and violent enemy to brave. The prospect of a slow and solitary expiation would have no congeniality with his wicked thoughts, but this throttling and strangling has. |
| 8196 |
Present this black idea of violence to a bad mind contemplating violence; hold up before a man remotely compassing the death of another person, the spectacle of his own ghastly and untimely death by man's hands; and out of the depths of his own nature you shall assuredly raise up that which lures and tempts him on. |
| 8197 |
That this class of crimes has its origin in the Punishment of Death, we cannot question; because (as we have already seen, and shall presently establish by another proof) great notoriety and interest attach, and are generally understood to attach, only to those criminals who are in danger of being executed. |
| 8198 |
He had less invention than Hocker, and perhaps was not so deliberately bad; but his attempt was a branch of the same tree, and it has its root in the ground where the scaffold is erected. Oxford had his imitators. Let it never be forgotten in the consideration of this part of the subject, how they were stopped. |
| 8199 |
It is the same in America. I was present at an execution in Rome, for a most treacherous and wicked murder, and not only saw the same kind of assemblage there, but, wearing what is called a shooting coat, with a great many pockets in it, felt innumerable hands busy in every one of them, close to the scaffold. |
| 8200 |
Why should it frighten or deter? We know it does not. We know it from the police reports, and from the testimony of those who have experience of prisons and prisoners, and we may know it, on the occasion of an execution, by the evidence of our own senses; if we will be at the misery of using them for such a purpose. |
| 8201 |
This is an absurdity, to which the obvious answer is, So much the worse. If they be not considered with reference to that class of persons, comprehending a great host of criminals in various stages of development, they ought to be, and must be. To lose sight of that consideration is to be irrational, unjust, and cruel. |
| 8202 |
We know that last dying speeches and Newgate calendars are the favourite literature of very low intellects. The gallows is not appealed to as an example in the instruction of youth (unless they are training for it); nor are there condensed accounts of celebrated executions for the use of national schools. |
| 8203 |
It is not incompatible with the utmost deference and respect for an authority so eminent, to say that, in this, Mr. Justice Coleridge was not supported by facts, but quite the reverse. He went out of his way to found a general assumption on certain very limited and partial grounds, and even on those grounds was wrong. |
| 8204 |
Such are the instances of wrong judgment which are known to us. How many more there may be in which the real murderers never disclosed their guilt, or were never discovered, and where the odium of great crimes still rests on guiltless people long since resolved to dust in their untimely graves, no human power can tell. |
| 8205 |
There is no better way of testing the effect of public executions on those who do not actually behold them, but who read of them and know of them, than by inquiring into their efficiency in preventing crime. In this respect they have always, and in all countries, failed. According to all facts and figures, failed. |
| 8206 |
I had neither hand nor part in it myself; but, unless I am greatly mistaken, it did pretty clearly set forth that Tawell was a most abhorred villain, and that the House might conclude how strongly the petitioners were opposed to the Punishment of Death, when they prayed for its non infliction even in such a case. |
| 8207 |
Neither will we treat of great effects produced by means quite powerless in other hands for such an end, or of the prodigious force and colour which so separate this work from all the rest exhibited, that it would scarcely appear to be produced upon the same kind of surface by the same description of instrument. |
| 8208 |
If, in the reckless vivacity of his youth, his satirical pen had ever gone astray or done amiss, he had caused it to prefer its own petition for forgiveness, long before: I've writ the foolish fancy of his brain; The aimless jest that, striking, hath caused pain; The idle word that he'd wish back again. |
| 8209 |
In no pages should I take it upon myself at this time to discourse of his books, of his refined knowledge of character, of his subtle acquaintance with the weaknesses of human nature, of his delightful playfulness as an essayist, of his quaint and touching ballads, of his mastery over the English language. |
| 8210 |
The condition of the little pages of manuscript where Death stopped his hand, shows that he had carried them about, and often taken them out of his pocket here and there, for patient revision and interlineation. The last words he corrected in print were, "And my heart throbbed with an exquisite bliss". |
| 8211 |
Her love of poetry was conspicuous at so early an age, that I have before me a tiny album made of small note paper, into which her favourite passages were copied for her by her mother's hand before she herself could write. It looks as if she had carried it about, as another little girl might have carried a doll. |
| 8212 |
As she grew older, she acquired the French, Italian, and German languages; became a clever pianoforte player; and showed a true taste and sentiment in drawing. But, as soon as she had completely vanquished the difficulties of any one branch of study, it was her way to lose interest in it, and pass to another. |
| 8213 |
The procession stopped at our door, for the bride to receive our congratulations. She was dressed in a shot silk, with a yellow handkerchief, and rows of a large gold chain. In the afternoon they sent to request us to go there. On our arrival we found them dancing out of doors, and a most melancholy affair it was. |
| 8214 |
All the bride's sisters were not to be recognised, they had cried so. The mother sat in the house, and could not appear. And the bride was sobbing so, she could hardly stand! The most melancholy spectacle of all to my mind was, that the bridegroom was decidedly tipsy. He seemed rather affronted at all the distress. |
| 8215 |
Cheerfulness was habitual with her, she was very ready at a sally or a reply, and in her laugh (as I remember well) there was an unusual vivacity, enjoyment, and sense of drollery. She was perfectly unconstrained and unaffected: as modestly silent about her productions, as she was generous with their pecuniary results. |
| 8216 |
But, even as the close came upon her, so must it come here. Always impelled by an intense conviction that her life must not be dreamed away, and that her indulgence in her favourite pursuits must be balanced by action in the real world around her, she was indefatigable in her endeavours to do some good. |
| 8217 |
Perfectly unselfish, swift to sympathise and eager to relieve, she wrought at such designs with a flushed earnestness that disregarded season, weather, time of day or night, food, rest. Under such a hurry of the spirits, and such incessant occupation, the strongest constitution will commonly go down. |
| 8218 |
All the restlessness gone then, and all the sweet patience of her natural disposition purified by the resignation of her soul, she lay upon her bed through the whole round of changes of the seasons. She lay upon her bed through fifteen months. In all that time, her old cheerfulness never quitted her. |
| 8219 |
To his Literary Executor he was always a warmly attached and sympathetic friend. To the public, he has been a most generous benefactor, both in his munificent bequest of his collection of precious stones in the South Kensington Museum, and in the devotion of the bulk of his property to the education of poor children. |
| 8220 |
It was this remarkable power that took Paris by storm when he became famous in the lover's part in the Dame aux Camelias. It is a short part, really comprised in two scenes, but, as he acted it (he was its original representative), it left its poetic and exalting influence on the heroine throughout the play. |
| 8221 |
In the last scene of Victor Hugo's noble drama, his bearing becomes positively inspired; and his sudden assumption of the attitude of the headsman, in his denunciation of the Duke and threat to be his executioner, is, so far as I know, one of the most ferociously picturesque things conceivable on the stage. |
| 8222 |
My dear the Major has Mr. Buffle brought up our steps and whisked into the parlour and carted out on the sofy, and then he and all the rest of them without so much as a word burst away again full speed leaving the impression of a vision except for Mr. Buffle awful in his blanket with his eyes a rolling. |
| 8223 |
And when we came to the sea which I had never seen but once in my life and that when my poor Lirriper was courting me, the freshness of it and the deepness and the airiness and to think that it had been rolling ever since and that it was always a rolling and so few of us minding, made me feel quite serious. |
| 8224 |
Neither did the Major. Though lying there alone, the poor creetur was as well taken care of as could be hoped, and would have been quite unconscious of any one's sitting by him then. I got the Major to say that we were not going away at present and that I would come back to morrow and watch a bit by the bedside. |
| 8225 |
So the girl eyed him. But, it happened now, that a slant of light from the setting sun glanced into the bottom of the boat, and, touching a rotten stain there which bore some resemblance to the outline of a muffled human form, coloured it as though with diluted blood. This caught the girl's eye, and she shivered. |
| 8226 |
Until now, the boat had barely held her own, and had hovered about one spot; but now, the banks changed swiftly, and the deepening shadows and the kindling lights of London Bridge were passed, and the tiers of shipping lay on either hand. It was not until now that the upper half of the man came back into the boat. |
| 8227 |
You got off with a short time of it for putting you're hand in the pocket of a sailor, a live sailor. Make the most of it and think yourself lucky, but don't think after that to come over ME with your pardners. We have worked together in time past, but we work together no more in time present nor yet future. |
| 8228 |
It is questionable whether any man quite relishes being mistaken for any other man; but, Mr Veneering having this very evening set up the shirt front of the young Antinous in new worked cambric just come home, is not at all complimented by being supposed to be Twemlow, who is dry and weazen and some thirty years older. |
| 8229 |
Instantly, he absconded, and came over here. He must have been a boy of spirit and resource, to get here on a stopped allowance of five sous a week; but he did it somehow, and he burst in on his father, and pleaded his sister's cause. Venerable parent promptly resorts to anathematization, and turns him out. |
| 8230 |
Whether, in that shabby rook's nest, he is always plotting wisdom, or plotting murder; whether he will grow up, after so much solitary brooding, to enlighten his fellow creatures, or to poison them; is the only speck of interest that presents itself to my professional view. Will you give me a light? Thank you. |
| 8231 |
Then, he finished ruling the work he had in hand (it might have been illuminating a missal, he was so calm), in a very neat and methodical manner, showing not the slightest consciousness of the woman who was banging herself with increased violence, and shrieking most terrifically for some other woman's liver. |
| 8232 |
Very often was no clue. Too late to know for certain, whether injuries received before or after death; one excellent surgical opinion said, before; other excellent surgical opinion said, after. Steward of ship in which gentleman came home passenger, had been round to view, and could swear to identity. |
| 8233 |
And father pulls my shoes off, and dries my feet at the fire, and has me to sit by him while he smokes his pipe long after you are abed, and I notice that father's is a large hand but never a heavy one when it touches me, and that father's is a rough voice but never an angry one when it speaks to me. |
| 8234 |
A stranger entering his own poor house at about ten o'clock P.M. might have been surprised to find him sitting up to supper. So boyish was he in his curves and proportions, that his old schoolmaster meeting him in Cheapside, might have been unable to withstand the temptation of caning him on the spot. |
| 8235 |
Chicksey and Stobbles, his former masters, had both become absorbed in Veneering, once their traveller or commission agent: who had signalized his accession to supreme power by bringing into the business a quantity of plate glass window and French polished mahogany partition, and a gleaming and enormous doorplate. |
| 8236 |
I shouldn't care so much if it wasn't so ridiculous. It was ridiculous enough to have a stranger coming over to marry me, whether he liked it or not. It was ridiculous enough to know what an embarrassing meeting it would be, and how we never could pretend to have an inclination of our own, either of us. |
| 8237 |
The gentleman listened to her, with a face of marked attention, though he neither looked up nor changed his attitude. He sat, still and silent, until his future landlord accepted his proposals, and brought writing materials to complete the business. He sat, still and silent, while the landlord wrote. |
| 8238 |
After some discussion on the relative merits of veal cutlet, sweetbread, and lobster, a decision was pronounced in favour of veal cutlet. Mrs Wilfer then solemnly divested herself of her handkerchief and gloves, as a preliminary sacrifice to preparing the frying pan, and R. W. himself went out to purchase the viand. |
| 8239 |
He soon returned, bearing the same in a fresh cabbage leaf, where it coyly embraced a rasher of ham. Melodious sounds were not long in rising from the frying pan on the fire, or in seeming, as the firelight danced in the mellow halls of a couple of full bottles on the table, to play appropriate dance music. |
| 8240 |
Both as to his dress and to himself, he was of an overlapping rhinoceros build, with folds in his cheeks, and his forehead, and his eyelids, and his lips, and his ears; but with bright, eager, childishly inquiring, grey eyes, under his ragged eyebrows, and broad brimmed hat. A very odd looking old fellow altogether. |
| 8241 |
Facing the fire between the settles, a sofa, a footstool, and a little table, formed a centrepiece devoted to Mrs Boffin. They were garish in taste and colour, but were expensive articles of drawing room furniture that had a very odd look beside the settles and the flaring gaslight pendent from the ceiling. |
| 8242 |
Not without reason was it often asserted by the regular frequenters of the Porters, that when the light shone full upon the grain of certain panels, and particularly upon an old corner cupboard of walnut wood in the bar, you might trace little forests there, and tiny trees like the parent tree, in full umbrageous leaf. |
| 8243 |
She was a tall, upright, well favoured woman, though severe of countenance, and had more of the air of a schoolmistress than mistress of the Six Jolly Fellowship Porters. The man on the other side of the half door, was a waterside man with a squinting leer, and he eyed her as if he were one of her pupils in disgrace. |
| 8244 |
Riderhood had not done the deed, but had resolved in his malice to turn against her father, the appearances that were ready to his hand to distort. Equally and swiftly upon either putting of the case, followed the frightful possibility that her father, being innocent, yet might come to be believed guilty. |
| 8245 |
She had heard of people suffering Death for bloodshed of which they were afterwards proved pure, and those ill fated persons were not, first, in that dangerous wrong in which her father stood. Then at the best, the beginning of his being set apart, whispered against, and avoided, was a certain fact. |
| 8246 |
And as the great black river with its dreary shores was soon lost to her view in the gloom, so, she stood on the river's brink unable to see into the vast blank misery of a life suspected, and fallen away from by good and bad, but knowing that it lay there dim before her, stretching away to the great ocean, Death. |
| 8247 |
You are a credit to the school, and you will be a greater credit to it yet, and they will help you to get a living. Show what clothes you have brought, and what money, and say that I will send some more money. If I can get some in no other way, I will ask a little help of those two gentlemen who came here that night. |
| 8248 |
But failing, he laid her head gently down again, got a pillow and placed it under her dark hair, and sought on the table for a spoonful of brandy. There being none left, he hurriedly caught up the empty bottle, and ran out at the door. He returned as hurriedly as he had gone, with the bottle still empty. |
| 8249 |
But, the little shop is so excessively dark, is stuck so full of black shelves and brackets and nooks and corners, that he sees Mr Venus's cup and saucer only because it is close under the candle, and does not see from what mysterious recess Mr Venus produces another for himself until it is under his nose. |
| 8250 |
On his taking the candle to assist his search, Mr Wegg observes that he has a convenient little shelf near his knees, exclusively appropriated to skeleton hands, which have very much the appearance of wanting to lay hold of him. From these Mr Venus rescues the canary in a glass case, and shows it to the boy. |
| 8251 |
These two ignorant and unpolished people had guided themselves so far on in their journey of life, by a religious sense of duty and desire to do right. Ten thousand weaknesses and absurdities might have been detected in the breasts of both; ten thousand vanities additional, possibly, in the breast of the woman. |
| 8252 |
These, the hammer headed young man took in such ill part that he often impaired the majesty of the progress by pulling up short, and making as though he would alight to exterminate the offenders; a purpose from which he only allowed himself to be dissuaded after long and lively arguments with his employers. |
| 8253 |
The Analytical, who objects as a matter of principle to everything that occurs on the premises, necessarily objects to the match; but his consent has been dispensed with, and a spring van is delivering its load of greenhouse plants at the door, in order that to morrow's feast may be crowned with flowers. |
| 8254 |
It would seem that both the mature young lady and the mature young gentleman must indubitably be Veneering's oldest friends. Wards of his, perhaps? Yet that can scarcely be, for they are older than himself. Veneering has been in their confidence throughout, and has done much to lure them to the altar. |
| 8255 |
A gull comes sweeping by their heads and flouts them. There was a golden surface on the brown cliffs but now, and behold they are only damp earth. A taunting roar comes from the sea, and the far out rollers mount upon one another, to look at the entrapped impostors, and to join in impish and exultant gambols. |
| 8256 |
Indeed, such another lucky hit would almost have set him up in that way to his satisfaction. So, addressing himself to the most desirable of his neighbours, while Mrs Veneering secured the next most desirable, he plunged into the case, and emerged from it twenty minutes afterwards with a Bank Director in his arms. |
| 8257 |
The shrubs wrung their many hands, bemoaning that they had been over persuaded by the sun to bud; the young leaves pined; the sparrows repented of their early marriages, like men and women; the colours of the rainbow were discernible, not in floral spring, but in the faces of the people whom it nibbled and pinched. |
| 8258 |
On the grounds that I knowed his ways. On the grounds that I broke the pardnership because I see the danger; which I warn you his daughter may tell you another story about that, for anythink I can say, but you know what it'll be worth, for she'd tell you lies, the world round and the heavens broad, to save her father. |
| 8259 |
On the grounds that it's well understood along the cause'ays and the stairs that he done it. On the grounds that he's fell off from, because he done it. On the grounds that I will swear he done it. On the grounds that you may take me where you will, and get me sworn to it. I don't want to back out of the consequences. |
| 8260 |
Aslant against the hard implacable weather and the rough wind, he was no more to be driven back than hurried forward, but held on like an advancing Destiny. There came, when they were about midway on their journey, a heavy rush of hail, which in a few minutes pelted the streets clear, and whitened them. |
| 8261 |
And when Eugene had observed its position with reference to the other boats, and had made sure that he could not miss it, he turned his eyes upon the building where, as he had been told, the lonely girl with the dark hair sat by the fire. He could see the light of the fire shining through the window. |
| 8262 |
Perhaps he had come out with the express intention. That part of the bank having rank grass growing on it, there was no difficulty in getting close, without any noise of footsteps: it was but to scramble up a ragged face of pretty hard mud some three or four feet high and come upon the grass and to the window. |
| 8263 |
She sat on the ground, looking at the brazier, with her face leaning on her hand. There was a kind of film or flicker on her face, which at first he took to be the fitful firelight; but, on a second look, he saw that she was weeping. A sad and solitary spectacle, as shown him by the rising and the falling of the fire. |
| 8264 |
It was a little window of but four pieces of glass, and was not curtained; he chose it because the larger window near it was. It showed him the room, and the bills upon the wall respecting the drowned people starting out and receding by turns. But he glanced slightly at them, though he looked long and steadily at her. |
| 8265 |
So were his two companions. Its being a change was everything. The suspense seemed to have taken a new lease, and to have begun afresh from a recent date. There was something additional to look for. They were all three more sharply on the alert, and less deadened by the miserable influences of the place and time. |
| 8266 |
As if with one accord, they all turned their eyes towards the light of the fire shining through the window. It was fainter and duller. Perhaps fire, like the higher animal and vegetable life it helps to sustain, has its greatest tendency towards death, when the night is dying and the day is not yet born. |
| 8267 |
He unwinds the end of his coil that he wants to take some turns on in his boat, and he takes turns enough on it to secure that it shan't run out. He makes it too secure, as it happens. He is a little longer about this than usual, his hands being numbed. His object drifts up, before he is quite ready for it. |
| 8268 |
Now see! He can swim, can this man, and instantly he strikes out. But in such striking out he tangles his arms, pulls strong on the slip knot, and it runs home. The object he had expected to take in tow, floats by, and his own boat tows him dead, to where we found him, all entangled in his own line. |
| 8269 |
Which the driver (knowing there was no other fare left inside) stared at prodigiously. In short, the night's work had so exhausted and worn out this actor in it, that he had become a mere somnambulist. He was too tired to rest in his sleep, until he was even tired out of being too tired, and dropped into oblivion. |
| 8270 |
As a grain of musk will scent a drawer for many years, and still lose nothing appreciable of its original weight, so a halfpenny worth of ink would blot Mr Boffin to the roots of his hair and the calves of his legs, without inscribing a line on the paper before him, or appearing to diminish in the inkstand. |
| 8271 |
We'll go down this way, as you may like to see the yard, and it's all in the road. When the son was a little child, it was up and down these stairs that he mostly came and went to his father. He was very timid of his father. I've seen him sit on these stairs, in his shy way, poor child, many a time. |
| 8272 |
How long such conquests last, is another matter; that they are achieved, is every day experience, not even to be flourished away by Podsnappery itself. The undesigning Boffin had become so far immeshed by the wily Wegg that his mind misgave him he was a very designing man indeed in purposing to do more for Wegg. |
| 8273 |
The Secretary lost no time in getting to work, and his vigilance and method soon set their mark on the Golden Dustman's affairs. His earnestness in determining to understand the length and breadth and depth of every piece of work submitted to him by his employer, was as special as his despatch in transacting it. |
| 8274 |
It was not that he was embarrassed, as on that first night with the Wilfer family; he was habitually unembarrassed now, and yet the something remained. It was not that his manner was bad, as on that occasion; it was now very good, as being modest, gracious, and ready. Yet the something never left it. |
| 8275 |
The suddenness of an orphan's rise in the market was not to be paralleled by the maddest records of the Stock Exchange. He would be at five thousand per cent discount out at nurse making a mud pie at nine in the morning, and (being inquired for) would go up to five thousand per cent premium before noon. |
| 8276 |
Likewise, fluctuations of a wild and South Sea nature were occasioned, by orphan holders keeping back, and then rushing into the market a dozen together. But, the uniform principle at the root of all these various operations was bargain and sale; and that principle could not be recognized by Mr and Mrs Milvey. |
| 8277 |
The Secretary proposed to Mrs Boffin, either to go down himself and take a preliminary survey of this orphan, or to drive her down, that she might at once form her own opinion. Mrs Boffin preferring the latter course, they set off one morning in a hired phaeton, conveying the hammer headed young man behind them. |
| 8278 |
It unfortunately happened as they quickened their pace, that the orphan, lost to considerations of personal safety in the ardour of the moment, overbalanced himself and toppled into the street. Being an orphan of a chubby conformation, he then took to rolling, and had rolled into the gutter before they could come up. |
| 8279 |
This alarming note of something wrong instantly terrified Toddles and Poddles, who were no sooner heard to roar surprisingly, than Johnny, curving himself the wrong way and striking out at Mrs Boffin with a pair of indifferent shoes, became a prey to despair. The absurdity of the situation put its pathos to the rout. |
| 8280 |
And those benevolent noblemen very kindly point out that if Nicodemus Boffin, Esquire, should wish to present two or more purses, it will not be inconsistent with the design of the estimable lady in the West of England, provided each purse be coupled with the name of some member of his honoured and respected family. |
| 8281 |
For, when a man with a wooden leg lies prone on his stomach to peep under bedsteads; and hops up ladders, like some extinct bird, to survey the tops of presses and cupboards; and provides himself an iron rod which he is always poking and prodding into dust mounds; the probability is that he expects to find something. |
| 8282 |
For then, an inclined plane of unfortunate infants would be handed over to the prosiest and worst of all the teachers with good intentions, whom nobody older would endure. Who, taking his stand on the floor before them as chief executioner, would be attended by a conventional volunteer boy as executioner's assistant. |
| 8283 |
When and where it first became the conventional system that a weary or inattentive infant in a class must have its face smoothed downward with a hot hand, or when and where the conventional volunteer boy first beheld such system in operation, and became inflamed with a sacred zeal to administer it, matters not. |
| 8284 |
Even in this temple of good intentions, an exceptionally sharp boy exceptionally determined to learn, could learn something, and, having learned it, could impart it much better than the teachers; as being more knowing than they, and not at the disadvantage in which they stood towards the shrewder pupils. |
| 8285 |
He had acquired mechanically a great store of teacher's knowledge. He could do mental arithmetic mechanically, sing at sight mechanically, blow various wind instruments mechanically, even play the great church organ mechanically. From his early childhood up, his mind had been a place of mechanical stowage. |
| 8286 |
Regarding that origin of his, he was proud, moody, and sullen, desiring it to be forgotten. And few people knew of it. In some visits to the Jumble his attention had been attracted to this boy Hexam. An undeniable boy for a pupil teacher; an undeniable boy to do credit to the master who should bring him on. |
| 8287 |
When my father was killed by accident, he chanced to be one of the finders. He was mooning about, I suppose, taking liberties with people's chins; but there he was, somehow. He brought the news home to my sister early in the morning, and brought Miss Abbey Potterson, a neighbour, to help break it to her. |
| 8288 |
Because when I am courted, I shall make Him do some of the things that you do for me. He couldn't brush my hair like you do, or help me up and down stairs like you do, and he couldn't do anything like you do; but he could take my work home, and he could call for orders in his clumsy way. And he shall too. |
| 8289 |
True pride would go to work and do it. You know that, well enough, for you know that your own true pride would do it to morrow, if you had the ways and means which false pride won't let me supply. Very well. I add no more than this. Your false pride does wrong to yourself and does wrong to your dead father. |
| 8290 |
At the corner of the street he stopped to light another cigar, and possibly to ask himself what he was doing otherwise. If so, the answer was indefinite and vague. Who knows what he is doing, who is careless what he does! A man stumbled against him as he turned away, who mumbled some maudlin apology. |
| 8291 |
The person of the house was the person of a house full of sordid shames and cares, with an upper room in which that abased figure was infecting even innocent sleep with sensual brutality and degradation. The doll's dressmaker had become a little quaint shrew; of the world, worldly; of the earth, earthy. |
| 8292 |
The telling fact that Twemlow is related to Lord Snigsworth, must be let off. Veneering supposes a state of public affairs that probably never could by any possibility exist (though this is not quite certain, in consequence of his picture being unintelligible to himself and everybody else), and thus proceeds. |
| 8293 |
It may have been that Mrs Lammle tried in some manner to excuse her conduct to herself by depreciating the poor little victim of whom she spoke with acrimonious contempt. It may have been too that in this she did not quite succeed, for it is very difficult to resist confidence, and she knew she had Georgiana's. |
| 8294 |
Nothing more was said between the happy pair. Perhaps conspirators who have once established an understanding, may not be over fond of repeating the terms and objects of their conspiracy. Next day came; came Georgiana; and came Fledgeby. Georgiana had by this time seen a good deal of the house and its frequenters. |
| 8295 |
They were always in a hurry, and yet seemed to have nothing tangible to do; except a few of them (these, mostly asthmatic and thick lipped) who were for ever demonstrating to the rest, with gold pencil cases which they could hardly hold because of the big rings on their forefingers, how money was to be made. |
| 8296 |
Fledgeby's mother offended her family by marrying Fledgeby's father. It is one of the easiest achievements in life to offend your family when your family want to get rid of you. Fledgeby's mother's family had been very much offended with her for being poor, and broke with her for becoming comparatively rich. |
| 8297 |
He lived in chambers in the Albany, did Fledgeby, and maintained a spruce appearance. But his youthful fire was all composed of sparks from the grindstone; and as the sparks flew off, went out, and never warmed anything, be sure that Fledgeby had his tools at the grindstone, and turned it with a wary eye. |
| 8298 |
He was sensible of the value of appearances as an investment, and liked to dress well; but he drove a bargain for every moveable about him, from the coat on his back to the china on his breakfast table; and every bargain by representing somebody's ruin or somebody's loss, acquired a peculiar charm for him. |
| 8299 |
Despite that pernicious assumption of lassitude and indifference, which had become his second nature, he was strongly attached to his friend. He had founded himself upon Eugene when they were yet boys at school; and at this hour imitated him no less, admired him no less, loved him no less, than in those departed days. |
| 8300 |
Now it was well enough half a dozen times, a dozen times, twenty times, to say to me in your own odd manner, which I know so well and like so much, that your disappearances were precautions against our boring one another; but of course after a short while I began to know that they covered something. |
| 8301 |
It was a cruel look, in its cold disdain of him, as a creature of no worth. The schoolmaster looked at him, and that, too, was a cruel look, though of the different kind, that it had a raging jealousy and fiery wrath in it. Very remarkably, neither Eugene Wrayburn nor Bradley Headstone looked at all at the boy. |
| 8302 |
Here is an immense fortune drops from the clouds upon a person that shall be nameless. Here is a weekly allowance, with a certain weight of coals, drops from the clouds upon me. Which of us is the better man? Not the person that shall be nameless. That's an observation of mine, but I don't make it an objection. |
| 8303 |
Not the talking over stranger. Yet the house is as free to him as if it was his, and he has his room, and is put upon a footing, and draws about a thousand a year. I am banished to the Bower, to be found in it like a piece of furniture whenever wanted. Merit, therefore, don't win. That's the way it works. |
| 8304 |
It ain't that I object to being passed over for a stranger, though I regard the stranger as a more than doubtful customer. It ain't for the sake of making money, though money is ever welcome. It ain't for myself, though I am not so haughty as to be above doing myself a good turn. It's for the cause of the right. |
| 8305 |
The effect of this ceremonial was for some quarter of an hour afterwards perfectly paralyzing on the neighbours, and was much enhanced by the worthy lady airing herself for that term in a kind of splendidly serene trance on the top step. When Bella was seated in the carriage, she opened the little packet in her hand. |
| 8306 |
You take this purse; you go to the nearest place where they keep everything of the very very best, ready made; you buy and put on, the most beautiful suit of clothes, the most beautiful hat, and the most beautiful pair of bright boots (patent leather, Pa, mind!) that are to be got for money; and you come back to me. |
| 8307 |
Anon, there would embark in that troop ship when she got to Gravesend, a mighty general, of large property (name also unknown), who wouldn't hear of going to victory without his wife, and whose wife was the lovely woman, and she was destined to become the idol of all the red coats and blue jackets alow and aloft. |
| 8308 |
Arrived at Mr Boffin's door, she set him with his back against it, tenderly took him by the ears as convenient handles for her purpose, and kissed him until he knocked muffled double knocks at the door with the back of his head. That done, she once more reminded him of their compact and gaily parted from him. |
| 8309 |
The footman who communicated this intelligence made a decent pause before uttering the name, to express that it was forced on his reluctance by the youth in question, and that if the youth had had the good sense and good taste to inherit some other name it would have spared the feelings of him the bearer. |
| 8310 |
It seemed then, that he wanted to know whether God had brought them all together there? So they told him yes again. They made out then, that he wanted to know whether they would all get out of pain? So they answered yes to that question likewise, and made him understand that the reply included himself. |
| 8311 |
But, he had to be washed and tended, and remedies were applied, and though those offices were far, far more skilfully and lightly done than ever anything had been done for him in his little life, so rough and short, they would have hurt and tired him but for an amazing circumstance which laid hold of his attention. |
| 8312 |
Mr Wegg chuckled, consequently, when he heard the tidings. Nay, it was afterwards affirmed by a witness who shall at present be nameless, that in the seclusion of the Bower he poked out his wooden leg, in the stage ballet manner, and executed a taunting or triumphant pirouette on the genuine leg remaining to him. |
| 8313 |
But, so much more powerful were the frailties of Sloppy's form than the strongest resources of tailoring science, that he now stood before the Council, a perfect Argus in the way of buttons: shining and winking and gleaming and twinkling out of a hundred of those eyes of bright metal, at the dazzled spectators. |
| 8314 |
Truly, in his breast there lingered a resentful shame to find himself defeated by this passion for Charley Hexam's sister, though in the very self same moments he was concentrating himself upon the object of bringing the passion to a successful issue. He appeared before the dolls' dressmaker, sitting alone at her work. |
| 8315 |
At all events he went on with much greater firmness and force of emphasis: though with a curious disposition to set his teeth, and with a curious tight screwing movement of his right hand in the clenching palm of his left, like the action of one who was being physically hurt, and was unwilling to cry out. |
| 8316 |
Upon the smallest of small scales, she was an unlicensed pawnbroker, keeping what was popularly called a Leaving Shop, by lending insignificant sums on insignificant articles of property deposited with her as security. In her four and twentieth year of life, Pleasant was already in her fifth year of this way of trade. |
| 8317 |
Yet, all things considered, she was not of an evil mind or an unkindly disposition. For, observe how many things were to be considered according to her own unfortunate experience. Show Pleasant Riderhood a Wedding in the street, and she only saw two people taking out a regular licence to quarrel and fight. |
| 8318 |
Fair trade with seafaring men gets a bad name through deeds of violence. I am as much against deeds of violence being done to seafaring men, as seafaring men can be themselves. I am of the same opinion as my mother was, when she was living. Fair trade, my mother used to say, but no robbery and no blows. |
| 8319 |
We had a struggle near the door. He got from me, through my not knowing where to strike, in the whirling round of the room, and the flashing of flames of fire between us. I dropped down. Lying helpless on the ground, I was turned over by a foot. I was dragged by the neck into a corner. I heard men speak together. |
| 8320 |
I was turned over by other feet. I saw a figure like myself lying dressed in my clothes on a bed. What might have been, for anything I knew, a silence of days, weeks, months, years, was broken by a violent wrestling of men all over the room. The figure like myself was assailed, and my valise was in its hand. |
| 8321 |
The tide was running down, but I knew nothing of up or down then. When, guiding myself safely with Heaven's assistance before the fierce set of the water, I at last caught at a boat moored, one of a tier of boats at a causeway, I was sucked under her, and came up, only just alive, on the other side. |
| 8322 |
It was all over now. No ghost should trouble Mr and Mrs Boffin's peace; invisible and voiceless, the ghost should look on for a little while longer at the state of existence out of which it had departed, and then should for ever cease to haunt the scenes in which it had no place. He went over it all again. |
| 8323 |
He had heard from Bella's own lips when he stood tapping at the door on that night of his taking the lodgings, that the marriage would have been on her part thoroughly mercenary. He had since tried her, in his own unknown person and supposed station, and she not only rejected his advances but resented them. |
| 8324 |
In stipulating for it, he had been impelled by a feeling little short of desperation, and the feeling abided by him. It was very soon after his interview with the Secretary, that he and Charley Hexam set out one leaden evening, not unnoticed by Miss Peecher, to have this desperate interview accomplished. |
| 8325 |
In a pause of mastication and deglutition, Lady Tippins, contemplating Mortimer, recalls that it was at our dear Veneerings, and in the presence of a party who are surely all here, that he told them his story of the man from somewhere, which afterwards became so horribly interesting and vulgarly popular. |
| 8326 |
The gentlemen soon saunter after them. Fledgeby has devoted the interval to taking an observation of Boots's whiskers, Brewer's whiskers, and Lammle's whiskers, and considering which pattern of whisker he would prefer to produce out of himself by friction, if the Genie of the cheek would only answer to his rubbing. |
| 8327 |
I tell you this, only to show you the necessity of the poor little foolish affectionate creature's being befriended and rescued. You will not repeat this to her father. You will spare me so far, and spare my husband. For, though this celebration of to day is all a mockery, he is my husband, and we must live. |
| 8328 |
At those times he glanced in the chimney glass to see what note the old man took of him. He took none that could be detected, but, aware of his employer's suspicions, stood with his eyes on the ground. Mr Fledgeby was thus amiably engaged when a step was heard at the outer door, and the door was heard to open hastily. |
| 8329 |
Mr Fledgeby appeared to be on the verge of some mutinous expressions, when his hand happened to touch his nose. A certain remembrance connected with that feature operating as a timely warning, he took it thoughtfully between his thumb and forefinger, and pondered; Lammle meanwhile eyeing him with furtive eyes. |
| 8330 |
If your Lammles or your Lightwoods had got at him anyhow, they would have asked him the question whether he hadn't something to do with that gal's disappearance. I knew a better way of going to work. Having got behind the hedge, and put him in the light, I took a shot at him and brought him down plump. |
| 8331 |
Some man fell in with a splash, and was pulled out again with a roar of laughter. The drags were called for. A cry for the life buoy passed from mouth to mouth. It was impossible to make out what was going on upon the river, for every boat that put off sculled into the fog and was lost to view at a boat's length. |
| 8332 |
The doctor seeking messenger meets the doctor halfway, coming under convoy of police. Doctor examines the dank carcase, and pronounces, not hopefully, that it is worth while trying to reanimate the same. All the best means are at once in action, and everybody present lends a hand, and a heart and soul. |
| 8333 |
If you are not gone for good, Mr Riderhood, it would be something to know where you are hiding at present. This flabby lump of mortality that we work so hard at with such patient perseverance, yields no sign of you. If you are gone for good, Rogue, it is very solemn, and if you are coming back, it is hardly less so. |
| 8334 |
Nay, in the suspense and mystery of the latter question, involving that of where you may be now, there is a solemnity even added to that of death, making us who are in attendance alike afraid to look on you and to look off you, and making those below start at the least sound of a creaking plank in the floor. |
| 8335 |
The four rough fellows, seeing, shed tears. Neither Riderhood in this world, nor Riderhood in the other, could draw tears from them; but a striving human soul between the two can do it easily. He is struggling to come back. Now, he is almost here, now he is far away again. Now he is struggling harder to get back. |
| 8336 |
Some hazy idea that if affairs could remain thus for a long time it would be a respectable change, floats in her mind. Also some vague idea that the old evil is drowned out of him, and that if he should happily come back to resume his occupation of the empty form that lies upon the bed, his spirit will be altered. |
| 8337 |
Bob Glamour blows his nose, and Jonathan of the no surname is moved to do likewise, but lacking a pocket handkerchief abandons that outlet for his emotion. Pleasant sheds tears deserving her own name, and her sweet delusion is at its height. There is intelligence in his eyes. He wants to ask a question. |
| 8338 |
Lurid indications of the better marriages she might have made, shone athwart the awful gloom of her composure, and fitfully revealed the cherub as a little monster unaccountably favoured by Heaven, who had possessed himself of a blessing for which many of his superiors had sued and contended in vain. |
| 8339 |
It was tastefully though economically furnished, and very neatly arranged. There were shelves and stands of books, English, French, and Italian; and in a portfolio on the writing table there were sheets upon sheets of memoranda and calculations in figures, evidently referring to the Boffin property. |
| 8340 |
Before my eyes he grows suspicious, capricious, hard, tyrannical, unjust. If ever a good man were ruined by good fortune, it is my benefactor. And yet, Pa, think how terrible the fascination of money is! I see this, and hate this, and dread this, and don't know but that money might make a much worse change in me. |
| 8341 |
I mustn't go putting the market price up, because money may happen not to be an object with me. A sheep is worth so much in the market, and I ought to give it and no more. A secretary is worth so much in the market, and I ought to give it and no more. However, I don't mind stretching a point with you. |
| 8342 |
And again in the morning, she looked for the cloud, and for the deepening of the cloud, upon the Golden Dustman's face. She had begun by this time to be his frequent companion in his morning strolls about the streets, and it was at this time that he made her a party to his engaging in a curious pursuit. |
| 8343 |
The moment she pointed out any book as being entitled Lives of eccentric personages, Anecdotes of strange characters, Records of remarkable individuals, or anything to that purpose, Mr Boffin's countenance would light up, and he would instantly dart in and buy it. Size, price, quality, were of no account. |
| 8344 |
Morning after morning they roamed about the town together, pursuing this singular research. Miserly literature not being abundant, the proportion of failures to successes may have been as a hundred to one; still Mr Boffin, never wearied, remained as avaricious for misers as he had been at the first onset. |
| 8345 |
Indeed, her perception was so quick, and her observation so sharp, that after all she mistrusted his wife too, though with her giddy vanity and wilfulness she squeezed the mistrust away into a corner of her mind, and blocked it up there. Mrs Lammle took the friendliest interest in Bella's making a good match. |
| 8346 |
The defendant, the eldest son, immediately afterwards gave out that his father had destroyed the will; and no will being found, he entered into possession of the lands in question, and so matters remained for twenty one years, the whole family during all that time believing that the father had died without a will. |
| 8347 |
Even then he staggered round and round, weakly staring about him, until Mr Venus with a hard brush brushed his senses into him and the dust out of him. Mr Boffin came down leisurely, for this brushing process had been well accomplished, and Mr Venus had had time to take his breath, before he reappeared. |
| 8348 |
The French gentleman had grown considerably since Mr Wegg last saw him, being now accommodated with a pair of legs and a head, though his arms were yet in abeyance. To whomsoever the head had originally belonged, Silas Wegg would have regarded it as a personal favour if he had not cut quite so many teeth. |
| 8349 |
Silas took his seat in silence on the wooden box before the fire, and Venus dropping into his low chair produced from among his skeleton hands, his tea tray and tea cups, and put the kettle on. Silas inwardly approved of these preparations, trusting they might end in Mr Venus's diluting his intellect. |
| 8350 |
Silas had to say That, he would beg to remind his comrade, brother, and partner, of the impressive passages they had read that evening; of the evident parallel in Mr Boffin's mind between them and the late owner of the Bower, and the present circumstances of the Bower; of the bottle; and of the box. |
| 8351 |
That, the fortunes of his brother and comrade, and of himself were evidently made, inasmuch as they had but to put their price upon this document, and get that price from the minion of fortune and the worm of the hour: who now appeared to be less of a minion and more of a worm than had been previously supposed. |
| 8352 |
When he, Mr Wegg, had seen the minion surreptitiously making off with that bottle, and its precious contents unknown, he had looked upon him in the light of a mere robber, and, as such, would have despoiled him of his ill gotten gain, but for the judicious interference of his comrade, brother, and partner. |
| 8353 |
It was just at the time of that discovery in the river. Her father had seen the discovery being towed in the river. I made the popularity of the subject a reason for going back to improve the acquaintance, and I have never since been the man I was. My very bones is rendered flabby by brooding over it. |
| 8354 |
Casting about for ways and means of dissolving the connexion without loss of money, reproaching himself for having been betrayed into an avowal of his secret, and complimenting himself beyond measure on his purely accidental good luck, he beguiled the distance between Clerkenwell and the mansion of the Golden Dustman. |
| 8355 |
Power (unless it be the power of intellect or virtue) has ever the greatest attraction for the lowest natures; and the mere defiance of the unconscious house front, with his power to strip the roof off the inhabiting family like the roof of a house of cards, was a treat which had a charm for Silas Wegg. |
| 8356 |
Oftener and ever oftener, it came stealing over her; darker and ever darker, like the shadow of advancing Death. That the shadow should be deep as it came on, like the shadow of an actual presence, was in accordance with the laws of the physical world, for all the Light that shone on Betty Higden lay beyond Death. |
| 8357 |
She could not have swallowed food, though a table had been spread for her in the next field. The day was cold and wet, but she scarcely knew it. She crept on, poor soul, like a criminal afraid of being taken, and felt little beyond the terror of falling down while it was yet daylight, and being found alive. |
| 8358 |
Selfish in Sloppy, and yet excusable, it may be humbly hoped, because our sister had been more than his mother. The words were read above the ashes of Betty Higden, in a corner of a churchyard near the river; in a churchyard so obscure that there was nothing in it but grass mounds, not so much as one single tombstone. |
| 8359 |
This was merely how she had heard the groan, and what had afterwards passed, and how she had obtained leave for the remains to be placed in that sweet, fresh, empty store room of the mill from which they had just accompanied them to the churchyard, and how the last requests had been religiously observed. |
| 8360 |
Believe that they are not all mercenary, although I have, through a series of strange fatalities, faded out of my place in life. If what you see with such a gracious and good sympathy is calculated to rouse my pride, there are other considerations (and those you do not see) urging me to quiet endurance. |
| 8361 |
But the great serene mirror of the river seemed as if it might have reproduced all it had ever reflected between those placid banks, and brought nothing to the light save what was peaceful, pastoral, and blooming. So, they walked, speaking of the newly filled up grave, and of Johnny, and of many things. |
| 8362 |
There, he would stand making spasmodic preparations as if for a great leap, and at last would decide on a start at precisely the wrong moment, and would be roared at by drivers, and would shrink back once more, and stand in the old spot shivering, with the whole of the proceedings to go through again. |
| 8363 |
I make the schoolmaster so ridiculous, and so aware of being made ridiculous, that I see him chafe and fret at every pore when we cross one another. The amiable occupation has been the solace of my life, since I was baulked in the manner unnecessary to recall. I have derived inexpressible comfort from it. |
| 8364 |
He spoke of it more than once on the remainder of the way home, and more than once when they got home. They had been abed in their respective rooms two or three hours, when Eugene was partly awakened by hearing a footstep going about, and was fully awakened by seeing Lightwood standing at his bedside. |
| 8365 |
Their struggles are towards it. They buffet with opposing waves, to gain the bloody shore, not to recede from it. This man perfectly comprehended that he hated his rival with his strongest and worst forces, and that if he tracked him to Lizzie Hexam, his so doing would never serve himself with her, or serve her. |
| 8366 |
Granted, that he may not have held it necessary to make express mention to himself of the one familiar truth any more than of the other. He knew equally well that he fed his wrath and hatred, and that he accumulated provocation and self justification, by being made the nightly sport of the reckless and insolent Eugene. |
| 8367 |
He thought of it and thought of it, until he resolved to steal up the stairs, if the gatekeeper would let him through, and listen. So, the haggard head suspended in the air flitted across the road, like the spectre of one of the many heads erst hoisted upon neighbouring Temple Bar, and stopped before the watchman. |
| 8368 |
The haggard head floated up the dark staircase, and softly descended nearer to the floor outside the outer door of the chambers. The doors of the rooms within, appeared to be standing open. There were rays of candlelight from one of them, and there was the sound of a footstep going about. There were two voices. |
| 8369 |
In a few moments the voices were silent, and there was no sound of footstep, and the inner light went out. If Lightwood could have seen the face which kept him awake, staring and listening in the darkness outside the door as he spoke of it, he might have been less disposed to sleep, through the remainder of the night. |
| 8370 |
What he might gain by this acquaintance, he could not work out in his slow and cumbrous thoughts. The man had an injury against the object of his hatred, and that was something; though it was less than he supposed, for there dwelt in the man no such deadly rage and resentment as burned in his own breast. |
| 8371 |
That was something, for his own state and purpose were as bad as bad could be, and he seemed to derive a vague support from the possession of a congenial instrument, though it might never be used. Suddenly he stood still, and asked Riderhood point blank if he knew where she was? Clearly, he did not know. |
| 8372 |
Things looked so gloomy in the breakfast room, albeit on the sunny side of Sackville Street, that any of the family tradespeople glancing through the blinds might have taken the hint to send in his account and press for it. But this, indeed, most of the family tradespeople had already done, without the hint. |
| 8373 |
For the first time in his life he had done an underhanded action, and he had done wrong. He had secretly interposed against this confiding young man, for no better real reason than because the young man's ways were not his ways. But, the confiding young man proceeded to heap coals of fire on his sensitive head. |
| 8374 |
The adverse destinies ordained that one evening Mr Wegg's labouring bark became beset by polysyllables, and embarrassed among a perfect archipelago of hard words. It being necessary to take soundings every minute, and to feel the way with the greatest caution, Mr Wegg's attention was fully employed. |
| 8375 |
More than once or twice, more than twice or thrice, say half a dozen times, he took his stick from the arm on which he nursed it, and hit a straight sharp rap at the air with its head. Possibly the wooden countenance of Mr Silas Wegg was incorporeally before him at those moments, for he hit with intense satisfaction. |
| 8376 |
Oppressed by her sense that trouble was impending, and lost in speculations why Mrs Boffin should look at her as if she had any part in it, Bella found the day long and dreary. It was far on in the afternoon when, she being in her own room, a servant brought her a message from Mr Boffin begging her to come to his. |
| 8377 |
Most of its money mills were slackening sail, or had left off grinding for the day. The master millers had already departed, and the journeymen were departing. There was a jaded aspect on the business lanes and courts, and the very pavements had a weary appearance, confused by the tread of a million of feet. |
| 8378 |
A magnetic result of such glaring was, that the person glared at could not by any means successfully pretend to he ignorant of the fact: so that a bystander, without beholding Mrs Wilfer at all, must have known at whom she was glaring, by seeing her refracted from the countenance of the beglared one. |
| 8379 |
It won't be a large fortune, because if the lovely woman's Intended gets a certain appointment that he hopes to get soon, she will marry on a hundred and fifty pounds a year. But that's at first, and even if it should never be more, the lovely woman will make it quite enough. But that's not all, sir. |
| 8380 |
But, it is certain that neither Mr nor Mrs Veneering can find words to wonder in, and it becomes necessary that they give to the oldest and dearest friends they have in the world, a wondering dinner. For, it is by this time noticeable that, whatever befals, the Veneerings must give a dinner upon it. |
| 8381 |
Boots says that one of them is a Contractor who (it has been calculated) gives employment, directly and indirectly, to five hundred thousand men. Brewer says that another of them is a Chairman, in such request at so many Boards, so far apart, that he never travels less by railway than three thousand miles a week. |
| 8382 |
Riderhood observed that the bargeman rose too, leaning on his arm, and seemed to have his eyes fastened on the rising figure. But, there was the toll to be taken, as the gates were now complaining and opening. The T'other governor tossed it ashore, twisted in a piece of paper, and as he did so, knew his man. |
| 8383 |
He must have committed it to memory, and slowly got it by heart. It was exactly reproduced in the dress he now wore. And whereas, in his own schoolmaster clothes, he usually looked as if they were the clothes of some other man, he now looked, in the clothes of some other man or men, as if they were his own. |
| 8384 |
Slouching at his side with his eyes upon the towing path, Riderhood held his left hand open, with a certain slight drawing action towards himself. Bradley dipped in his purse for another sovereign, and two chinked in Riderhood's hand, the drawing action of which, promptly strengthening, drew them home to his pocket. |
| 8385 |
A stranger to the scene might have been certain that here and there along the line of hedge a figure stood, watching the bargeman, and waiting for him to come up. So he himself had often believed at first, until his eyes became used to the posts, bearing the dagger that slew Wat Tyler, in the City of London shield. |
| 8386 |
The setting of a trap for finding out whether it was accidentally done, soon superseded, as a practical piece of cunning, the abstruser inquiry why otherwise it was done. And he devised a means. Rogue Riderhood went into his Lock house, and brought forth, into the now sober grey light, his chest of clothes. |
| 8387 |
And soon afterwards, divesting himself only of his shoes and coat, laid himself down. Riderhood, leaning back in his wooden arm chair with his arms folded on his breast, looked at him lying with his right hand clenched in his sleep and his teeth set, until a film came over his own sight, and he slept too. |
| 8388 |
But, his thoughts were far from being absorbed by the thunder and the lightning, for again and again and again he looked very curiously at the exhausted man upon the bed. The man had turned up the collar of the rough coat he wore, to shelter himself from the storm, and had buttoned it about his neck. |
| 8389 |
It was a grand spectacle, but not so grand as to keep his eyes, for half a minute together, from stealing a look at the man upon the bed. It was at the concealed throat of the sleeper that Riderhood so often looked so curiously, until the sleep seemed to deepen into the stupor of the dead tired in mind and body. |
| 8390 |
Here were she, Mrs Lammle, and her husband discoursing at once affectingly and effectively, but discoursing alone. Assuming that the dear old creatures were impressed by what they heard, still one would like to be sure of it, the more so, as at least one of the dear old creatures was somewhat pointedly referred to. |
| 8391 |
Then he directed a look, half exasperated and half jeering, at his wife. She still stood sketching; but, as she sketched, there was a struggle within her, which found expression in the depth of the few last lines the parasol point indented into the table cloth, and then some tears fell from her eyes. |
| 8392 |
Mr Wegg, especially, was in a flaming glow, and stood in the little shop, panting and mopping his head with his pocket handkerchief, speechless for several minutes. Meanwhile, Mr Venus, who had left the duelling frogs to fight it out in his absence by candlelight for the public delectation, put the shutters up. |
| 8393 |
Some remembrance of old Valentines, wherein a cherub, less appropriately attired for a proverbially uncertain climate, had been seen conducting lovers to the altar, might have been fancied to inflame the ardour of his timber toes. Be it as it might, he gave his moorings the slip, and followed in chase. |
| 8394 |
For years, the wings of his mind had gone to look after the legs of his body; but Bella had brought them back for him per steamer, and they were spread again. He was a slow sailer on a wind of happiness, but he took a cross cut for the rendezvous, and pegged away as if he were scoring furiously at cribbage. |
| 8395 |
Now, the supervising dignitary, the Archbishop of Greenwich, knew this as well as if he had performed the nuptial ceremony. And the loftiness with which his Grace entered into their confidence without being invited, and insisted on a show of keeping the waiters out of it, was the crowning glory of the entertainment. |
| 8396 |
All the loves and graces seemed (her husband thought) to have taken domestic service with her, and to help her to make home engaging. Her married life glided happily on. She was alone all day, for, after an early breakfast her husband repaired every morning to the City, and did not return until their late dinner hour. |
| 8397 |
It could not be said that she was less playful, whimsical, or natural, than she always had been; but it seemed, her husband thought, as if there were some rather graver reason than he had supposed for what she had so lately said, and as if throughout all this, there were glimpses of an underlying seriousness. |
| 8398 |
You are all wrong there, though otherwise as right as can be. And now I am brought to a little piece of news, my dearest, that I might have told you earlier in the evening. I have strong reason for confidently believing that we shall never be in the receipt of a smaller income than our present income. |
| 8399 |
The Paper Mill had stopped work for the night, and the paths and roads in its neighbourhood were sprinkled with clusters of people going home from their day's labour in it. There were men, women, and children in the groups, and there was no want of lively colour to flutter in the gentle evening wind. |
| 8400 |
It was a Saturday evening, and at such a time the village dogs, always much more interested in the doings of humanity than in the affairs of their own species, were particularly active. At the general shop, at the butcher's and at the public house, they evinced an inquiring spirit never to he satiated. |
| 8401 |
Moreover, a most wretched fiddle played within; a fiddle so unutterably vile, that one lean long bodied cur, with a better ear than the rest, found himself under compulsion at intervals to go round the corner and howl. Yet, even he returned to the public house on each occasion with the tenacity of a confirmed drunkard. |
| 8402 |
Remember that I have no protector near me, unless I have one in your noble heart. Respect my good name. If you feel towards me, in one particular, as you might if I was a lady, give me the full claims of a lady upon your generous behaviour. I am removed from you and your family by being a working girl. |
| 8403 |
And so earnest a character must be very earnest in that passion. She cannot choose for herself to be strong in this fancy, wavering in that, and weak in the other. She must go through with her nature, as I must go through with mine. If mine exacts its pains and penalties all round, so must hers, I suppose. |
| 8404 |
The peaceful serenity of the hour and place, having no reproaches or evil intentions within her breast to contend against, sank healingly into its depths. She had meditated and taken comfort. She, too, was turning homeward, when she heard a strange sound. It startled her, for it was like a sound of blows. |
| 8405 |
As she listened, undecided, all was silent. As she yet listened, she heard a faint groan, and a fall into the river. Her old bold life and habit instantly inspired her. Without vain waste of breath in crying for help where there were none to hear, she ran towards the spot from which the sounds had come. |
| 8406 |
An untrained sight would never have seen by the moonlight what she saw at the length of a few strokes astern. She saw the drowning figure rise to the surface, slightly struggle, and as if by instinct turn over on its back to float. Just so had she first dimly seen the face which she now dimly saw again. |
| 8407 |
Firm of look and firm of purpose, she intently watched its coming on, until it was very near; then, with a touch unshipped her sculls, and crept aft in the boat, between kneeling and crouching. Once, she let the body evade her, not being sure of her grasp. Twice, and she had seized it by its bloody hair. |
| 8408 |
It was insensible, if not virtually dead; it was mutilated, and streaked the water all about it with dark red streaks. As it could not help itself, it was impossible for her to get it on board. She bent over the stern to secure it with the line, and then the river and its shores rang to the terrible cry she uttered. |
| 8409 |
He appeared irresolute. He did not retain it, but laid it gently down, took a candle, looked more closely at the injuries on the head, and at the pupils of the eyes. That done, he replaced the candle and took the hand again. Another surgeon then coming in, the two exchanged a whisper, and the second took the hand. |
| 8410 |
Day was breaking at Plashwater Weir Mill Lock. Stars were yet visible, but there was dull light in the east that was not the light of night. The moon had gone down, and a mist crept along the banks of the river, seen through which the trees were the ghosts of trees, and the water was the ghost of water. |
| 8411 |
Mr Riderhood poetically remarking that he would pick the bones of his night's rest, in his wooden chair, sat in the window as before; but, as before, watched the sleeper narrowly until he was very sound asleep. Then, he rose and looked at him close, in the bright daylight, on every side, with great minuteness. |
| 8412 |
Early in the afternoon a barge came down. Other barges had passed through, both ways, before it; but the Lock keeper hailed only this particular barge, for news, as if he had made a time calculation with some nicety. The men on board told him a piece of news, and there was a lingering on their part to enlarge upon it. |
| 8413 |
Supposing his head had been held down under water for a while. Supposing the first blow had been truer. Supposing he had been shot. Supposing he had been strangled. Suppose this way, that way, the other way. Suppose anything but getting unchained from the one idea, for that was inexorably impossible. |
| 8414 |
As he paused with his piece of chalk at the black board before writing on it, he was thinking of the spot, and whether the water was not deeper and the fall straighter, a little higher up, or a little lower down. He had half a mind to draw a line or two upon the board, and show himself what he meant. |
| 8415 |
Now, you know my story. You are as well aware as I am, that I have had many disadvantages to leave behind me in life. You have heard me mention my father, and you are sufficiently acquainted with the fact that the home from which I, as I may say, escaped, might have been a more creditable one than it was. |
| 8416 |
Why, you have justified my sister in being firmly set against you from first to last, and you have put me in the wrong again! And why have you done it? Because, Mr Headstone, you are in all your passions so selfish, and so concentrated upon yourself that you have not bestowed one proper thought on me. |
| 8417 |
For whichsoever reason, or for all, he drooped his devoted head when the boy was gone, and shrank together on the floor, and grovelled there, with the palms of his hands tight clasping his hot temples, in unutterable misery, and unrelieved by a single tear. Rogue Riderhood had been busy with the river that day. |
| 8418 |
But she had never seen so singular a smile as that upon this lady's face. It twitched her nostrils open in a remarkable manner, and contracted her lips and eyebrows. It was a smile of enjoyment too, though of such a fierce kind that Miss Wren thought she would rather not enjoy herself than do it in that way. |
| 8419 |
No one being visible on her opening it wider, and the spluttering continuing, she took the liberry of opening an inner door, and then beheld the extraordinary spectacle of Mr Fledgeby in a shirt, a pair of Turkish trousers, and a Turkish cap, rolling over and over on his own carpet, and spluttering wonderfully. |
| 8420 |
She laughed over it and jeered at it in a convenient corner (to the great astonishment of the messenger) while the old man got his few goods together in a black bag. That done, the shutters of the upper windows closed, and the office blind pulled down, they issued forth upon the steps with the attendant messenger. |
| 8421 |
These, delighting in the trembles and the horrors of Mr Dolls, as in a gratuitous drama, flocked about him in his doorway, butted at him, leaped at him, and pelted him. Hence, when he came out of his invalid retirement and shook off that ragged train, he was much bespattered, and in worse case than ever. |
| 8422 |
Many flaunting dolls had to be gaily dressed, before the money was in the dressmaker's pocket to get mourning for Mr Dolls. As the old man, Riah, sat by, helping her in such small ways as he could, he found it difficult to make out whether she really did realize that the deceased had been her father. |
| 8423 |
But you see it is so hard to bring up a child well, when you work, work, work, all day. When he was out of employment, I couldn't always keep him near me. He got fractious and nervous, and I was obliged to let him go into the streets. And he never did well in the streets, he never did well out of sight. |
| 8424 |
I come straight from his bedside. He is almost always insensible. In a short restless interval of sensibility, or partial sensibility, I made out that he asked for you to be brought to sit by him. Hardly relying on my own interpretation of the indistinct sounds he made, I caused Lizzie to hear them. |
| 8425 |
Sitting there, with her rich shower of hair falling over the chair back, they hoped she might attract his notice. With the same object, she would sing, just above her breath, when he opened his eyes, or she saw his brow knit into that faint expression, so evanescent that it was like a shape made in water. |
| 8426 |
His eyes stood still, and settled into that former intent unmeaning stare. Hours and hours, days and nights, he remained in this same condition. There were times when he would calmly speak to his friend after a long period of unconsciousness, and would say he was better, and would ask for something. |
| 8427 |
The one word, Lizzie, he muttered millions of times. In a certain phase of his distressful state, which was the worst to those who tended him, he would roll his head upon the pillow, incessantly repeating the name in a hurried and impatient manner, with the misery of a disturbed mind, and the monotony of a machine. |
| 8428 |
But, gradually the change stole upon him that it became dreadful to himself. His desire to impart something that was on his mind, his unspeakable yearning to have speech with his friend and make a communication to him, so troubled him when he recovered consciousness, that its term was thereby shortened. |
| 8429 |
She then bent over the unconscious man, and, for the first time, kissed him on the cheek, and kissed the poor maimed hand that was nearest to her. Then, she withdrew to the foot of the bed. Some two hours afterwards, Mortimer Lightwood saw his consciousness come back, and instantly, but very tranquilly, bent over him. |
| 8430 |
All of which is here recorded to the honour of that good Christian pair, representatives of hundreds of other good Christian pairs as conscientious and as useful, who merge the smallness of their work in its greatness, and feel in no danger of losing dignity when they adapt themselves to incomprehensible humbugs. |
| 8431 |
He had come into the office of the station, from its interior, in an unsettled way, immediately after Lightwood had gone out to the train; and he had been hurriedly reading the printed hills and notices on the wall. He had had a wandering interest in what was said among the people waiting there and passing to and fro. |
| 8432 |
To whom it is no matter what living waters run high or low, reflect the heavenly lights and darknesses, produce their little growth of weeds and flowers, turn here, turn there, are noisy or still, are troubled or at rest, for their course has one sure termination, though their sources and devices are many. |
| 8433 |
Then, a carriage ride succeeded, near the solemn river, stealing away by night, as all things steal away, by night and by day, so quietly yielding to the attraction of the loadstone rock of Eternity; and the nearer they drew to the chamber where Eugene lay, the more they feared that they might find his wanderings done. |
| 8434 |
When would that trial come, through which her faith in, and her duty to, her dear husband, was to carry her, rendering him triumphant? For, that had been his term. Her passing through the trial was to make the man she loved with all her heart, triumphant. Term not to sink out of sight in Bella's breast. |
| 8435 |
O! if he came to that, yes, there might be a beautiful ivory case of jewels on her dressing table; when these pictures were in a moment darkened and blotted out. They turned a corner, and met Mr Lightwood. He stopped as if he were petrified by the sight of Bella's husband, who in the same moment had changed colour. |
| 8436 |
Mr Inspector achieved the smuggling of herself and John into this queer room, called Cosy in an inscription on the door, by entering in the narrow passage first in order, and suddenly turning round upon them with extended arms, as if they had been two sheep. The room was lighted for their reception. |
| 8437 |
Not only drove westward, but drove into that particular westward division, which Bella had seen last when she turned her face from Mr Boffin's door. Not only drove into that particular division, but drove at last into that very street. Not only drove into that very street, but stopped at last at that very house. |
| 8438 |
Mr Boffin, submitting to be led on tiptoe to the nursery door, looked in with immense satisfaction, although there was nothing to see but Bella in a musing state of happiness, seated in a little low chair upon the hearth, with her child in her fair young arms, and her soft eyelashes shading her eyes from the fire. |
| 8439 |
A foreman representative of the dust contractors, purchasers of the Mounds, had worn Mr Wegg down to skin and bone. This supervisor of the proceedings, asserting his employers' rights to cart off by daylight, nightlight, torchlight, when they would, must have been the death of Silas if the work had lasted much longer. |
| 8440 |
It was a very bad night; to which succeeded a very bad morning. The streets were so unusually slushy, muddy, and miserable, in the morning, that Wegg rode to the scene of action; arguing that a man who was, as it were, going to the Bank to draw out a handsome property, could well afford that trifling expense. |
| 8441 |
That Dutch bottle was found by my noble benefactor and yours, after he entered on possession of the estate. That Dutch bottle distressed him beyond measure, because, though I and my sister were both no more, it cast a slur upon our memory which he knew we had done nothing in our miserable youth, to deserve. |
| 8442 |
After the discovery was made here who I was, Mr Boffin, still restless on the subject, told me, upon certain conditions impossible for such a hound as you to appreciate, the secret of that Dutch bottle. I urged upon him the necessity of its being dug up, and the paper being legally produced and established. |
| 8443 |
Not even he could have told, for such misery can only be felt. First, he had to bear the combined weight of the knowledge of what he had done, of that haunting reproach that he might have done it so much better, and of the dread of discovery. This was load enough to crush him, and he laboured under it day and night. |
| 8444 |
It bore him down with a dread unchanging monotony, in which there was not a moment's variety. The overweighted beast of burden, or the overweighted slave, can for certain instants shift the physical load, and find some slight respite even in enforcing additional pain upon such a set of muscles or such a limb. |
| 8445 |
Time went by, and no visible suspicion dogged him; time went by, and in such public accounts of the attack as were renewed at intervals, he began to see Mr Lightwood (who acted as lawyer for the injured man) straying further from the fact, going wider of the issue, and evidently slackening in his zeal. |
| 8446 |
For, then he saw that through his desperate attempt to separate those two for ever, he had been made the means of uniting them. That he had dipped his hands in blood, to mark himself a miserable fool and tool. That Eugene Wrayburn, for his wife's sake, set him aside and left him to crawl along his blasted course. |
| 8447 |
He then saw a slouching man of forbidding appearance standing in the midst of the school, with a bundle under his arm; and saw that it was Riderhood. He sat down on a stool which one of his boys put for him, and he had a passing knowledge that he was in danger of falling, and that his face was becoming distorted. |
| 8448 |
When he approached it so nearly as that it parted into rays, they seemed to fasten themselves to him and draw him on. When he struck the door with his hand, his foot followed so quickly on his hand, that he was in the room before he was bidden to enter. The light was the joint product of a fire and a candle. |
| 8449 |
I know how you come away from London in your own clothes, and where you changed your clothes, and hid your clothes. I see you with my own eyes take your own clothes from their hiding place among them felled trees, and take a dip in the river to account for your dressing yourself, to any one as might come by. |
| 8450 |
Rigid before the fire, as if it were a charmed flame that was turning him old, he sat, with the dark lines deepening in his face, its stare becoming more and more haggard, its surface turning whiter and whiter as if it were being overspread with ashes, and the very texture and colour of his hair degenerating. |
| 8451 |
It was the crowning addition indispensable to the full enjoyment of both mother and daughter, to bear Mr Sampson, a grateful captive, into the glittering halls he had mentioned, and to parade him through the same, at once a living witness of their glory, and a bright instance of their condescension. |
| 8452 |
She sat erect at table, on the right hand of her son in law, as half suspecting poison in the viands, and as bearing up with native force of character against other deadly ambushes. Her carriage towards Bella was as a carriage towards a young lady of good position, whom she had met in society a few years ago. |
| 8453 |
Yet, John Harmon enjoyed it all merrily, and told his wife, when he and she were alone, that her natural ways had never seemed so dearly natural as beside this foil, and that although he did not dispute her being her father's daughter, he should ever remain stedfast in the faith that she could not be her mother's. |
| 8454 |
It appears to this potentate, that what the man in question should have done, would have been, to buy the young woman a boat and a small annuity, and set her up for herself. These things are a question of beefsteaks and porter. You buy the young woman a boat. Very good. You buy her, at the same time, a small annuity. |
| 8455 |
The Wanderer can only speak of the case as if it were his own. If such a young woman as the young woman described, had saved his own life, he would have been very much obliged to her, wouldn't have married her, and would have got her a berth in an Electric Telegraph Office, where young women answer very well. |
| 8456 |
I have done my best, in one of my former productions, to do justice to them; and I trust, in this, they will do justice to me. When I mention any exhibition that impressed me as absurd or disagreeable, I do not seek to connect it, or recognise it as necessarily connected with, any essentials of their creed. |
| 8457 |
I am no more bound to explain why the English family travelling by this carriage, inside and out, should be starting for Italy on a Sunday morning, of all good days in the week, than I am to assign a reason for all the little men in France being soldiers, and all the big men postilions; which is the invariable rule. |
| 8458 |
But, they had some sort of reason for what they did, I have no doubt; and their reason for being there at all, was, as you know, that they were going to live in fair Genoa for a year; and that the head of the family purposed, in that space of time, to stroll about, wherever his restless humour carried him. |
| 8459 |
The best rooms for my noble Courier. The rooms of state for my gallant Courier; the whole house is at the service of my best of friends! He keeps his hand upon the carriage door, and asks some other question to enhance the expectation. He carries a green leathern purse outside his coat, suspended by a belt. |
| 8460 |
Angelic baby! The baby has topped everything. All the rapture is expended on the baby! Then the two nurses tumble out; and the enthusiasm swelling into madness, the whole family are swept up stairs as on a cloud; while the idlers press about the carriage, and look into it, and walk round it, and touch it. |
| 8461 |
It is a delightful day, shaming yesterday's mud upon the carriage, if anything could shame a carriage, in a land where carriages are never cleaned. Everybody is brisk; and as we finish breakfast, the horses come jingling into the yard from the Post house. Everything taken out of the carriage is put back again. |
| 8462 |
The landlord is affectionate, but not weakly so. He bears it like a man. He shakes hands with his brave brother, but he don't hug him. Still, he loves his brother; for he knows that he will be returning that way, one of these fine days, with another family, and he foresees that his heart will yearn towards him again. |
| 8463 |
It is crowded with men and women, in blue, in red, in green, in white; with canvassed stalls; and fluttering merchandise. The country people are grouped about, with their clean baskets before them. Here, the lace sellers; there, the butter and egg sellers; there, the fruit sellers; there, the shoe makers. |
| 8464 |
There was no difference, in point of cleanliness, between its stone pavement and that of the streets; and there was a wax saint, in a little box like a berth aboard ship, with a glass front to it, whom Madame Tussaud would have nothing to say to, on any terms, and which even Westminster Abbey might be ashamed of. |
| 8465 |
However that may be, it was set in motion, and thereupon a host of little doors flew open, and innumerable little figures staggered out of them, and jerked themselves back again, with that special unsteadiness of purpose, and hitching in the gait, which usually attaches to figures that are moved by clock work. |
| 8466 |
Villages and small towns hanging in mid air, with great woods of olives seen through the light open towers of their churches, and clouds moving slowly on, upon the steep acclivity behind them; ruined castles perched on every eminence; and scattered houses in the clefts and gullies of the hills; made it very beautiful. |
| 8467 |
But it was, and may be traced there yet. High up in the jealous wall, are niches where the faltering replies of the accused were heard and noted down. Many of them had been brought out of the very cell we had just looked into, so awfully; along the same stone passage. We had trodden in their very footsteps. |
| 8468 |
She stops at a certain part of the flooring. Her great effect is at hand. She waits for the rest. She darts at the brave Courier, who is explaining something; hits him a sounding rap on the hat with the largest key; and bids him be silent. She assembles us all, round a little trap door in the floor, as round a grave. |
| 8469 |
The heat being very great, the roads outside the walls were strewn with people fast asleep in every little slip of shade, and with lazy groups, half asleep and half awake, who were waiting until the sun should be low enough to admit of their playing bowls among the burnt up trees, and on the dusty road. |
| 8470 |
We left this town towards evening, and took the road to Marseilles. A dusty road it was; the houses shut up close; and the vines powdered white. At nearly all the cottage doors, women were peeling and slicing onions into earthen bowls for supper. So they had been doing last night all the way from Avignon. |
| 8471 |
The vessel was beautifully clean; the meals were served under an awning on deck; the night was calm and clear; the quiet beauty of the sea and sky unspeakable. We were off Nice, early next morning, and coasted along, within a few miles of the Cornice road (of which more in its place) nearly all day. |
| 8472 |
I little thought, that day, that I should ever come to have an attachment for the very stones in the streets of Genoa, and to look back upon the city with affection as connected with many hours of happiness and quiet! But these are my first impressions honestly set down; and how they changed, I will set down too. |
| 8473 |
The rats are kept away, quite comfortably, by scores of lean cats, who roam about the garden for that purpose. The lizards, of course, nobody cares for; they play in the sun, and don't bite. The little scorpions are merely curious. The beetles are rather late, and have not appeared yet. The frogs are company. |
| 8474 |
I believe there is a legend that Saint John's bones were received there, with various solemnities, when they were first brought to Genoa; for Genoa possesses them to this day. When there is any uncommon tempest at sea, they are brought out and exhibited to the raging weather, which they never fail to calm. |
| 8475 |
The young women are not generally pretty, but they walk remarkably well, and in their personal carriage and the management of their veils, display much innate grace and elegance. There were some men present: not very many: and a few of these were kneeling about the aisles, while everybody else tumbled over them. |
| 8476 |
The band played one way, the organ played another, the singer went a third, and the unfortunate conductor banged and banged, and flourished his scroll on some principle of his own: apparently well satisfied with the whole performance. I never did hear such a discordant din. The heat was intense all the time. |
| 8477 |
I don't believe there was an uncracked stone in the whole pavement. In the centre was a melancholy statue, so piebald in its decay, that it looked exactly as if it had been covered with sticking plaster, and afterwards powdered. The stables, coach houses, offices, were all empty, all ruinous, all utterly deserted. |
| 8478 |
I went down into the garden, intended to be prim and quaint, with avenues, and terraces, and orange trees, and statues, and water in stone basins; and everything was green, gaunt, weedy, straggling, under grown or over grown, mildewy, damp, redolent of all sorts of slabby, clammy, creeping, and uncomfortable life. |
| 8479 |
A brightness not too common, even in July and August, to be well esteemed: for, if the Truth must out, there were not eight blue skies in as many midsummer weeks, saving, sometimes, early in the morning; when, looking out to sea, the water and the firmament were one world of deep and brilliant blue. |
| 8480 |
Sometimes, they are visited by a man without legs, on a little go cart, but who has such a fresh coloured, lively face, and such a respectable, well conditioned body, that he looks as if he had sunk into the ground up to his middle, or had come, but partially, up a flight of cellar steps to speak to somebody. |
| 8481 |
Opposite to you, is a giant figure carved in stone, reclining, with an urn, upon a lofty piece of artificial rockwork; and out of the urn, dangles the fag end of a leaden pipe, which, once upon a time, poured a small torrent down the rocks. But the eye sockets of the giant are not drier than this channel is now. |
| 8482 |
They are very dirty: quite undrained, if my nose be at all reliable: and emit a peculiar fragrance, like the smell of very bad cheese, kept in very hot blankets. Notwithstanding the height of the houses, there would seem to have been a lack of room in the City, for new houses are thrust in everywhere. |
| 8483 |
Wherever it has been possible to cram a tumble down tenement into a crack or corner, in it has gone. If there be a nook or angle in the wall of a church, or a crevice in any other dead wall, of any sort, there you are sure to find some kind of habitation: looking as if it had grown there, like a fungus. |
| 8484 |
The streets of Genoa would be all the better for the importation of a few Priests of prepossessing appearance. Every fourth or fifth man in the streets is a Priest or a Monk; and there is pretty sure to be at least one itinerant ecclesiastic inside or outside every hackney carriage on the neighbouring roads. |
| 8485 |
I cannot but believe myself, from similar observation, that many unaccredited celestial messengers may be seen skulking through the streets of Genoa, or droning away their lives in other Italian towns. Perhaps the Cappuccini, though not a learned body, are, as an order, the best friends of the people. |
| 8486 |
Here, grave men with sticks, sit down in the shade for hours together, passing a meagre Genoa paper from hand to hand, and talking, drowsily and sparingly, about the News. Two or three of these are poor physicians, ready to proclaim themselves on an emergency, and tear off with any messenger who may arrive. |
| 8487 |
On a summer evening the Genoese are as fond of putting themselves, as their ancestors were of putting houses, in every available inch of space in and about the town. In all the lanes and alleys, and up every little ascent, and on every dwarf wall, and on every flight of steps, they cluster like bees. |
| 8488 |
All the shops were shut up, twice within a week, for these holidays; and one night, all the houses in the neighbourhood of a particular church were illuminated, while the church itself was lighted, outside, with torches; and a grove of blazing links was erected, in an open space outside one of the city gates. |
| 8489 |
On these days, they always dress the church of the saint in whose honour the festa is holden, very gaily. Gold embroidered festoons of different colours, hang from the arches; the altar furniture is set forth; and sometimes, even the lofty pillars are swathed from top to bottom in tight fitting draperies. |
| 8490 |
Still further to stimulate the charitable, there is a monstrous painting on the plaster, on either side of the grated door, representing a select party of souls, frying. One of them has a grey moustache, and an elaborate head of grey hair: as if he had been taken out of a hairdresser's window and cast into the furnace. |
| 8491 |
When any of these die, they are buried out of a fund maintained by such of their countrymen as are resident in Genoa. Their providing coffins for these men is matter of great astonishment to the authorities. Certainly, the effect of this promiscuous and indecent splashing down of dead people in so many wells, is bad. |
| 8492 |
Nothing impressed me, so much, in my visits here (which were pretty numerous) as the uncommonly hard and cruel character of the audience, who resent the slightest defect, take nothing goodhumouredly, seem to be always lying in wait for an opportunity to hiss, and spare the actresses as little as the actors. |
| 8493 |
Beyond this, and the novelty of seeing a play in the fresh pleasant air, with the darkening evening closing in, there is nothing very exciting or characteristic in the performances. The actors are indifferent; and though they sometimes represent one of Goldoni's comedies, the staple of the Drama is French. |
| 8494 |
He has extra joints in his legs: and a practical eye, with which he winks at the pit, in a manner that is absolutely insupportable to a stranger, but which the initiated audience, mainly composed of the common people, receive (so they do everything else) quite as a matter of course, and as if he were a man. |
| 8495 |
He continually shakes his legs, and winks his eye. And there is a heavy father with grey hair, who sits down on the regular conventional stage bank, and blesses his daughter in the regular conventional way, who is tremendous. No one would suppose it possible that anything short of a real man could be so tedious. |
| 8496 |
All its apartments are beautiful in their proportions and decorations; but the great hall, some fifty feet in height, with three large windows at the end, overlooking the whole town of Genoa, the harbour, and the neighbouring sea, affords one of the most fascinating and delightful prospects in the world. |
| 8497 |
Any house more cheerful and habitable than the great rooms are, within, it would be difficult to conceive; and certainly nothing more delicious than the scene without, in sunshine or in moonlight, could be imagined. It is more like an enchanted place in an Eastern story than a grave and sober lodging. |
| 8498 |
It is the custom to make fictitious removals of unsold wool to evade this law; to take it somewhere when the twelve months are nearly out; bring it straight back again; and warehouse it, as a new cargo, for nearly twelve months longer. This wool of ours, had come originally from some place in the East. |
| 8499 |
The brave Courier met him at the side, and received the something as its rightful owner. It was a wicker basket, folded in a linen cloth; and in it were two great bottles of wine, a roast fowl, some salt fish chopped with garlic, a great loaf of bread, a dozen or so of peaches, and a few other trifles. |
| 8500 |
It was he. He walked in great state: being one of the Superiors of the Order: and looked his part to admiration. There never was anything so perfect of its kind as the contemplative way in which he allowed his placid gaze to rest on us, his late companions, as if he had never seen us in his life and didn't see us then. |
| 8501 |
These towns, as they are seen in the approach, however: nestling, with their clustering roofs and towers, among trees on steep hillsides, or built upon the brink of noble bays: are charming. The vegetation is, everywhere, luxuriant and beautiful, and the Palmtree makes a novel feature in the novel scenery. |
| 8502 |
To mend the matter, the old priest was troubled with cramps in his legs, so that he had to give a terrible yell every ten minutes or so, and be hoisted out by the united efforts of the company; the coach always stopping for him, with great gravity. This disorder, and the roads, formed the main subject of conversation. |
| 8503 |
Each, in its turn, appears to be, of all the mouldy, dreary, Godforgotten towns in the wide world, the chief. Sitting on this hillock where a bastion used to be, and where a noisy fortress was, in the time of the old Roman station here, I became aware that I have never known till now, what it is to be lazy. |
| 8504 |
A dormouse must surely be in very much the same condition before he retires under the wool in his cage; or a tortoise before he buries himself. I feel that I am getting rusty. That any attempt to think, would be accompanied with a creaking noise. That there is nothing, anywhere, to be done, or needing to be done. |
| 8505 |
And every now and then, a long, long line of trees, will be all bound and garlanded together: as if they had taken hold of one another, and were coming dancing down the field! Parma has cheerful, stirring streets, for an Italian town; and consequently is not so characteristic as many places of less note. |
| 8506 |
She cut our embarrassment very short, however, by crossing herself devoutly, and going down, at full length, on her face, before a figure in a fancy petticoat and a gilt crown; which was so like one of the procession figures, that perhaps at this hour she may think the whole appearance a celestial vision. |
| 8507 |
Hence it was stipulated, that, whenever we left Bologna, we should start so as not to arrive at Ferrara later than eight at night; and a delightful afternoon and evening journey it was, albeit through a flat district which gradually became more marshy from the overflow of brooks and rivers in the recent heavy rains. |
| 8508 |
If I had been murdered there, in some former life, I could not have seemed to remember the place more thoroughly, or with a more emphatic chilling of the blood; and the mere remembrance of it acquired in that minute, is so strengthened by the imaginary recollection, that I hardly think I could forget it. |
| 8509 |
The aspect of this dreary town, half an hour before sunrise one fine morning, when I left it, was as picturesque as it seemed unreal and spectral. It was no matter that the people were not yet out of bed; for if they had all been up and busy, they would have made but little difference in that desert of a place. |
| 8510 |
It was best to see it, without a single figure in the picture; a city of the dead, without one solitary survivor. Pestilence might have ravaged streets, squares, and market places; and sack and siege have ruined the old houses, battered down their doors and windows, and made breaches in their roofs. |
| 8511 |
There was a postilion, in the course of this day's journey, as wild and savagely good looking a vagabond as you would desire to see. He was a tall, stout made, dark complexioned fellow, with a profusion of shaggy black hair hanging all over his face, and great black whiskers stretching down his throat. |
| 8512 |
At no great distance from its porch, a lofty tower, standing by itself, and rearing its proud head, alone, into the sky, looked out upon the Adriatic Sea. Near to the margin of the stream, were two ill omened pillars of red granite; one having on its top, a figure with a sword and shield; the other, a winged lion. |
| 8513 |
There was little sound of hammers in this place for building ships, and little work in progress; for the greatness of the city was no more, as I have said. Indeed, it seemed a very wreck found drifting on the sea; a strange flag hoisted in its honourable stations, and strangers standing at its helm. |
| 8514 |
An armoury was there yet. Plundered and despoiled; but an armoury. With a fierce standard taken from the Turks, drooping in the dull air of its cage. Rich suits of mail worn by great warriors were hoarded there; crossbows and bolts; quivers full of arrows; spears; swords, daggers, maces, shields, and heavy headed axes. |
| 8515 |
When the bronze giants struck the hour of midnight on the bell, I thought the life and animation of the city were all centred here; and as I rowed away, abreast the silent quays, I only saw them dotted, here and there, with sleeping boatmen wrapped up in their cloaks, and lying at full length upon the stones. |
| 8516 |
Noiseless and watchful: coiled round and round it, in its many folds, like an old serpent: waiting for the time, I thought, when people should look down into its depths for any stone of the old city that had claimed to be its mistress. Thus it floated me away, until I awoke in the old market place at Verona. |
| 8517 |
However consolatory it may have been to Yorick's Ghost, to hear the feet upon the pavement overhead, and, twenty times a day, the repetition of his name, it is better for Juliet to lie out of the track of tourists, and to have no visitors but such as come to graves in spring rain, and sweet air, and sunshine. |
| 8518 |
In another place, there was a gallery of pictures: so abominably bad, that it was quite delightful to see them mouldering away. But anywhere: in the churches, among the palaces, in the streets, on the bridge, or down beside the river: it was always pleasant Verona, and in my remembrance always will be. |
| 8519 |
I would take their opinion on a question of art, in preference to the discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Now that we were standing in the street, after being thus ignominiouly escorted thither, my little friend was plainly reduced to the "piccolo giro," or little circuit of the town, he had formerly proposed. |
| 8520 |
Apart from the damage it has sustained from damp, decay, or neglect, it has been (as Barry shows) so retouched upon, and repainted, and that so clumsily, that many of the heads are, now, positive deformities, with patches of paint and plaster sticking upon them like wens, and utterly distorting the expression. |
| 8521 |
This is so well established as an historical fact, that I should not repeat it, at the risk of being tedious, but for having observed an English gentleman before the picture, who was at great pains to fall into what I may describe as mild convulsions, at certain minute details of expression which are not left in it. |
| 8522 |
In the splendid theatre of La Scala, there was a ballet of action performed after the opera, under the title of Prometheus: in the beginning of which, some hundred or two of men and women represented our mortal race before the refinements of the arts and sciences, and loves and graces, came on earth to soften them. |
| 8523 |
It was ten o'clock at night when we got to Domo d'Ossola, at the foot of the Pass of the Simplon. But as the moon was shining brightly, and there was not a cloud in the starlit sky, it was no time for going to bed, or going anywhere but on. So, we got a little carriage, after some delay, and began the ascent. |
| 8524 |
Thus we went, climbing on our rugged way, higher and higher all night, without a moment's weariness: lost in the contemplation of the black rocks, the tremendous heights and depths, the fields of smooth snow lying, in the clefts and hollows, and the fierce torrents thundering headlong down the deep abyss. |
| 8525 |
But he was soon up again, with the assistance of a rough waggoner whose team had stuck fast there too; and when we had helped him out of his difficulty, in return, we left him slowly ploughing towards them, and went slowly and swiftly forward, on the brink of a steep precipice, among the mountain pines. |
| 8526 |
Down, over lofty bridges, and through horrible ravines: a little shifting speck in the vast desolation of ice and snow, and monstrous granite rocks; down through the deep Gorge of the Saltine, and deafened by the torrent plunging madly down, among the riven blocks of rock, into the level country, far below. |
| 8527 |
Gradually down, by zig zag roads, lying between an upward and a downward precipice, into warmer weather, calmer air, and softer scenery, until there lay before us, glittering like gold or silver in the thaw and sunshine, the metal covered, red, green, yellow, domes and church spires of a Swiss town. |
| 8528 |
Or how Strasbourg itself, in its magnificent old Gothic Cathedral, and its ancient houses with their peaked roofs and gables, made a little gallery of quaint and interesting views; or how a crowd was gathered inside the cathedral at noon, to see the famous mechanical clock in motion, striking twelve. |
| 8529 |
Or how it was wonderful to see this cock at great pains to clap its wings, and strain its throat; but obviously having no connection whatever with its own voice; which was deep within the clock, a long way down. Or how the road to Paris, was one sea of mud, and thence to the coast, a little better for a hard frost. |
| 8530 |
On every bank and knoll by the wayside, the wild cactus and aloe flourish in exuberant profusion; and the gardens of the bright villages along the road, are seen, all blushing in the summer time with clusters of the Belladonna, and are fragrant in the autumn and winter with golden oranges and lemons. |
| 8531 |
Some of the villages are inhabited, almost exclusively, by fishermen; and it is pleasant to see their great boats hauled up on the beach, making little patches of shade, where they lie asleep, or where the women and children sit romping and looking out to sea, while they mend their nets upon the shore. |
| 8532 |
The dwellings not immediately abutting on the harbour are approached by blind low archways, and by crooked steps, as if in darkness and in difficulty of access they should be like holds of ships, or inconvenient cabins under water; and everywhere, there is a smell of fish, and sea weed, and old rope. |
| 8533 |
It was not in such a season, however, that we traversed this road on our way to Rome. The middle of January was only just past, and it was very gloomy and dark weather; very wet besides. In crossing the fine pass of Bracco, we encountered such a storm of mist and rain, that we travelled in a cloud the whole way. |
| 8534 |
The quarries, "or caves," as they call them there, are so many openings, high up in the hills, on either side of these passes, where they blast and excavate for marble: which may turn out good or bad: may make a man's fortune very quickly, or ruin him by the great expense of working what is worth nothing. |
| 8535 |
He was also much opposed to railroads; and if certain lines in contemplation by other potentates, on either side of him, had been executed, would have probably enjoyed the satisfaction of having an omnibus plying to and fro across his not very vast dominions, to forward travellers from one terminus to another. |
| 8536 |
At one time, I used to please my fancy with the speculation whether these old painters, at their work, had a foreboding knowledge of the man who would one day arise to wreak such destruction upon art: whose soldiers would make targets of great pictures, and stable their horses among triumphs of architecture. |
| 8537 |
Nothing else is stirring, but warm air. Going through the streets, the fronts of the sleepy houses look like backs. They are all so still and quiet, and unlike houses with people in them, that the greater part of the city has the appearance of a city at daybreak, or during a general siesta of the population. |
| 8538 |
They were known to have waylaid some travellers not long before, on Mount Vesuvius itself, and were the talk at all the roadside inns. As they were no business of ours, however (for we had very little with us to lose), we made ourselves merry on the subject, and were very soon as comfortable as need be. |
| 8539 |
There is a bit of roast beef, the size of a small French roll. There are a scrap of Parmesan cheese, and five little withered apples, all huddled together on a small plate, and crowding one upon the other, as if each were trying to save itself from the chance of being eaten. Then there is coffee; and then there is bed. |
| 8540 |
Where this lake flows, there stood, of old, a city. It was swallowed up one day; and in its stead, this water rose. There are ancient traditions (common to many parts of the world) of the ruined city having been seen below, when the water was clear; but however that may be, from this spot of earth it vanished. |
| 8541 |
We had crossed the Tiber by the Ponte Molle two or three miles before. It had looked as yellow as it ought to look, and hurrying on between its worn away and miry banks, had a promising aspect of desolation and ruin. The masquerade dresses on the fringe of the Carnival, did great violence to this promise. |
| 8542 |
But, there were preparations for a Festa; the pillars of stately marble were swathed in some impertinent frippery of red and yellow; the altar, and entrance to the subterranean chapel: which is before it: in the centre of the church: were like a goldsmith's shop, or one of the opening scenes in a very lavish pantomime. |
| 8543 |
The effect of the Cathedral on my mind, on that second visit, was exactly what it was at first, and what it remains after many visits. It is not religiously impressive or affecting. It is an immense edifice, with no one point for the mind to rest upon; and it tires itself with wandering round and round. |
| 8544 |
In the centre of the kind of theatre thus railed off, was a canopied dais with the Pope's chair upon it. The pavement was covered with a carpet of the brightest green; and what with this green, and the intolerable reds and crimsons, and gold borders of the hangings, the whole concern looked like a stupendous Bonbon. |
| 8545 |
I got upon the border of the green carpet, in company with a great many other gentlemen, attired in black (no other passport is necessary), and stood there at my ease, during the performance of Mass. The singers were in a crib of wirework (like a large meatsafe or bird cage) in one corner; and sang most atrociously. |
| 8546 |
Dotted here and there, were little knots of friars (Frances cani, or Cappuccini, in their coarse brown dresses and peaked hoods) making a strange contrast to the gaudy ecclesiastics of higher degree, and having their humility gratified to the utmost, by being shouldered about, and elbowed right and left, on all sides. |
| 8547 |
Some of these had muddy sandals and umbrellas, and stained garments: having trudged in from the country. The faces of the greater part were as coarse and heavy as their dress; their dogged, stupid, monotonous stare at all the glory and splendour, having something in it, half miserable, and half ridiculous. |
| 8548 |
There was, certainly nothing solemn or effective in it; and certainly very much that was droll and tawdry. But this remark applies to the whole ceremony, except the raising of the Host, when every man in the guard dropped on one knee instantly, and dashed his naked sword on the ground; which had a fine effect. |
| 8549 |
At a given signal they are started off. Down the live lane, the whole length of the Corso, they fly like the wind: riderless, as all the world knows: with shining ornaments upon their backs, and twisted in their plaited manes: and with heavy little balls stuck full of spikes, dangling at their sides, to goad them on. |
| 8550 |
But the carriages: ankle deep with sugar plums within, and so be flowered and dusty without, as to be hardly recognisable for the same vehicles that they were, three hours ago: instead of scampering off in all directions, throng into the Corso, where they are soon wedged together in a scarcely moving mass. |
| 8551 |
The first time I went up there, I could not conceive why the faces seemed familiar to me; why they appeared to have beset me, for years, in every possible variety of action and costume; and how it came to pass that they started up before me, in Rome, in the broad day, like so many saddled and bridled nightmares. |
| 8552 |
There is one old gentleman, with long white hair and an immense beard, who, to my knowledge, has gone half through the catalogue of the Royal Academy. This is the venerable, or patriarchal model. He carries a long staff; and every knot and twist in that staff I have seen, faithfully delineated, innumerable times. |
| 8553 |
As to Domestic Happiness, and Holy Families, they should come very cheap, for there are lumps of them, all up the steps; and the cream of the thing is, that they are all the falsest vagabonds in the world, especially made up for the purpose, and having no counterparts in Rome or any other part of the habitable globe. |
| 8554 |
The hollow cheeked monk, number One, having finished lighting the candles, went down on his knees, in a corner, before this setpiece; and the monk number Two, having put on a pair of highly ornamented and gold bespattered gloves, lifted down the coffer, with great reverence, and set it on the altar. |
| 8555 |
He endeavoured, in another case of which he had no other knowledge than such as he gained as a passer by at the moment, to prevent its being carried into a small unwholesome chamber, where a poor girl was dying. But, he strove against it unsuccessfully, and she expired while the crowd were pressing round her bed. |
| 8556 |
This chamber is now fitted up as an oratory, dedicated to that saint; and it lives, as a distinct and separate place, in my recollection, too. It is very small and low roofed; and the dread and gloom of the ponderous, obdurate old prison are on it, as if they had come up in a dark mist through the floor. |
| 8557 |
It is an awful thing to think of the enormous caverns that are entered from some Roman churches, and undermine the city. Many churches have crypts and subterranean chapels of great size, which, in the ancient time, were baths, and secret chambers of temples, and what not: but I do not speak of them. |
| 8558 |
Her husband then told her what he had done. She, in confession, told a priest; and the man was taken, within four days after the commission of the murder. There are no fixed times for the administration of justice, or its execution, in this unaccountable country; and he had been in prison ever since. |
| 8559 |
A little parliament of dogs assembled in the open space, and chased each other, in and out among the soldiers. Fierce looking Romans of the lowest class, in blue cloaks, russet cloaks, and rags uncloaked, came and went, and talked together. Women and children fluttered, on the skirts of the scanty crowd. |
| 8560 |
One large muddy spot was left quite bare, like a bald place on a man's head. A cigar merchant, with an earthen pot of charcoal ashes in one hand, went up and down, crying his wares. A pastry merchant divided his attention between the scaffold and his customers. Boys tried to climb up walls, and tumbled down again. |
| 8561 |
There was a great deal of blood. When we left the window, and went close up to the scaffold, it was very dirty; one of the two men who were throwing water over it, turning to help the other lift the body into a shell, picked his way as through mire. A strange appearance was the apparent annihilation of the neck. |
| 8562 |
The head was taken off so close, that it seemed as if the knife had narrowly escaped crushing the jaw, or shaving off the ear; and the body looked as if there were nothing left above the shoulder. Nobody cared, or was at all affected. There was no manifestation of disgust, or pity, or indignation, or sorrow. |
| 8563 |
The speculators in the lottery, station themselves at favourable points for counting the gouts of blood that spirt out, here or there; and buy that number. It is pretty sure to have a run upon it. The body was carted away in due time, the knife cleansed, the scaffold taken down, and all the hideous apparatus removed. |
| 8564 |
There is Albano, with its lovely lake and wooded shore, and with its wine, that certainly has not improved since the days of Horace, and in these times hardly justifies his panegyric. There is squalid Tivoli, with the river Anio, diverted from its course, and plunging down, headlong, some eighty feet in search of it. |
| 8565 |
Sometimes, loose walls, built up from these fragments by the shepherds, came across our path; sometimes, a ditch between two mounds of broken stones, obstructed our progress; sometimes, the fragments themselves, rolling from beneath our feet, made it a toilsome matter to advance; but it was always ruin. |
| 8566 |
The ceremonies, in general, are of the most tedious and wearisome kind; the heat and crowd at every one of them, painfully oppressive; the noise, hubbub, and confusion, quite distracting. We abandoned the pursuit of these shows, very early in the proceedings, and betook ourselves to the Ruins again. |
| 8567 |
It was at its height, when the stream came pouring in, from the feetwashing; and then there were such shrieks and outcries, that a party of Piedmontese dragoons went to the rescue of the Swiss guard, and helped them to calm the tumult. The ladies were particularly ferocious, in their struggles for places. |
| 8568 |
The Cardinals, and other attendants, smiled to each other, from time to time, as if the thing were a great farce; and if they thought so, there is little doubt they were perfectly right. His Holiness did what he had to do, as a sensible man gets through a troublesome ceremony, and seemed very glad when it was all over. |
| 8569 |
And to observe a demure lady of fifty five or so, looking back, every now and then, to assure herself that her legs were properly disposed! There were such odd differences in the speed of different people, too. Some got on as if they were doing a match against time; others stopped to say a prayer on every step. |
| 8570 |
The show began with a tremendous discharge of cannon; and then, for twenty minutes or half an hour, the whole castle was one incessant sheet of fire, and labyrinth of blazing wheels of every colour, size, and speed: while rockets streamed into the sky, not by ones or twos, or scores, but hundreds at a time. |
| 8571 |
Our way lies over the Campagna, which looks more solemn on a bright blue day like this, than beneath a darker sky; the great extent of ruin being plainer to the eye: and the sunshine through the arches of the broken aqueducts, showing other broken arches shining through them in the melancholy distance. |
| 8572 |
If there be death abroad, life is well represented too, for all Naples would seem to be out of doors, and tearing to and fro in carriages. Some of these, the common Vetturino vehicles, are drawn by three horses abreast, decked with smart trappings and great abundance of brazen ornament, and always going very fast. |
| 8573 |
The secretary, at length, catches the idea, and with the air of a man who knows how to word it, sets it down; stopping, now and then, to glance back at his text admiringly. The galley slave is silent. The soldier stoically cracks his nuts. Is there anything more to say? inquires the letter writer. No more. |
| 8574 |
The galley slave is quite enchanted. It is folded, and addressed, and given to him, and he pays the fee. The secretary falls back indolently in his chair, and takes a book. The galley slave gathers up an empty sack. The sentinel throws away a handful of nut shells, shoulders his musket, and away they go together. |
| 8575 |
Two people in carriages, meeting, one touches his lips, twice or thrice, holding up the five fingers of his right hand, and gives a horizontal cut in the air with the palm. The other nods briskly, and goes his way. He has been invited to a friendly dinner at half past five o'clock, and will certainly come. |
| 8576 |
But, in Naples, those five fingers are a copious language. All this, and every other kind of out door life and stir, and macaroni eating at sunset, and flower selling all day long, and begging and stealing everywhere and at all hours, you see upon the bright sea shore, where the waves of the bay sparkle merrily. |
| 8577 |
They were used as burying places for three hundred years; and, in one part, is a large pit full of skulls and bones, said to be the sad remains of a great mortality occasioned by a plague. In the rest there is nothing but dust. They consist, chiefly, of great wide corridors and labyrinths, hewn out of the rock. |
| 8578 |
At the end of some of these long passages, are unexpected glimpses of the daylight, shining down from above. It looks as ghastly and as strange; among the torches, and the dust, and the dark vaults: as if it, too, were dead and buried. The present burial place lies out yonder, on a hill between the city and Vesuvius. |
| 8579 |
The old Campo Santo with its three hundred and sixty five pits, is only used for those who die in hospitals, and prisons, and are unclaimed by their friends. The graceful new cemetery, at no great distance from it, though yet unfinished, has already many graves among its shrubs and flowers, and airy colonnades. |
| 8580 |
We ascend, gradually, by stony lanes like rough broad flights of stairs, for some time. At length, we leave these, and the vineyards on either side of them, and emerge upon a bleak bare region where the lava lies confusedly, in enormous rusty masses; as if the earth had been ploughed up by burning thunderbolts. |
| 8581 |
It is dark, when after winding, for some time, over the broken ground, we arrive at the foot of the cone: which is extremely steep, and seems to rise, almost perpendicularly, from the spot where we dismount. The only light is reflected from the snow, deep, hard, and white, with which the cone is covered. |
| 8582 |
But the sight of the litters above, tilting up and down, and jerking from this side to that, as the bearers continually slip and tumble, diverts our attention; more especially as the whole length of the rather heavy gentleman is, at that moment, presented to us alarmingly foreshortened, with his head downwards. |
| 8583 |
From tingeing the top of the snow above us, with a band of light, and pouring it in a stream through the valley below, while we have been ascending in the dark, the moon soon lights the whole white mountain side, and the broad sea down below, and tiny Naples in the distance, and every village in the country round. |
| 8584 |
The boy is brought into the Hermitage on the Mountain, while we are at supper, with his head tied up; and the man is heard of, some hours afterwards. He too is bruised and stunned, but has broken no bones; the snow having, fortunately, covered all the larger blocks of rock and stone, and rendered them harmless. |
| 8585 |
He is already dressed for his part, in a tight brown Holland coat, with only one (the left) sleeve to it, which leaves his right arm bared to the shoulder, ready for plunging down into the mysterious chest. During the hush and whisper that pervade the room, all eyes are turned on this young minister of fortune. |
| 8586 |
There is a flaring country lamp on the table; and, hovering about it, scratching her thick black hair continually, a yellow dwarf of a woman, who stands on tiptoe to arrange the hatchet knives, and takes a flying leap to look into the water jug. The beds in the adjoining rooms are of the liveliest kind. |
| 8587 |
There is not a solitary scrap of looking glass in the house, and the washing apparatus is identical with the cooking utensils. But the yellow dwarf sets on the table a good flask of excellent wine, holding a quart at least; and produces, among halfa dozen other dishes, two thirds of a roasted kid, smoking hot. |
| 8588 |
The space of one house, in the centre, being left open, the view beyond is shown as in a frame; and that precious glimpse of sky, and water, and rich buildings, shining so quietly among the huddled roofs and gables on the bridge, is exquisite. Above it, the Gallery of the Grand Duke crosses the river. |
| 8589 |
A shadow on the wall in which my mind's eye can discern some traces of a rocky sea coast, recalls to me a fearful story of travel derived from that unpromising narrator of such stories, a parliamentary blue book. A convict is its chief figure, and this man escapes with other prisoners from a penal settlement. |
| 8590 |
Their way is by a rugged and precipitous sea shore, and they have no earthly hope of ultimate escape, for the party of soldiers despatched by an easier course to cut them off, must inevitably arrive at their distant bourne long before them, and retake them if by any hazard they survive the horrors of the way. |
| 8591 |
The Haleswell struck on the rocks at a part of the shore where the cliff is of vast height, and rises almost perpendicular from its base. But at this particular spot, the foot of the cliff is excavated into a cavern of ten or twelve yards in depth, and of breadth equal to the length of a large ship. |
| 8592 |
In such an emergency, when the next moment might plunge him into eternity, he determined to seize the present opportunity, and follow the example of the crew and the soldiers, who were now quitting the ship in numbers, and making their way to the shore, though quite ignorant of its nature and description. |
| 8593 |
They wait by them one day, they wait by them two days. On the morning of the third, they move very softly about, in making their preparations for the resumption of their journey; for, the child is sleeping by the fire, and it is agreed with one consent that he shall not be disturbed until the last moment. |
| 8594 |
The broker's man has grown grey in possession. They will have to bury him some day. He has been attached to every conceivable pursuit. He has been in the army, in the navy, in the church, in the law; connected with the press, the fine arts, public institutions, every description and grade of business. |
| 8595 |
It is to be observed, that in the midst of his afflictions he always reads the newspapers; and rounds off his appeal with some allusion, that may be supposed to be in my way, to the popular subject of the hour. His life presents a series of inconsistencies. Sometimes he has never written such a letter before. |
| 8596 |
Once he wrote me rather a special letter, proposing relief in kind. He had got into a little trouble by leaving parcels of mud done up in brown paper, at people's houses, on pretence of being a Railway Porter, in which character he received carriage money. This sportive fancy he expiated in the House of Correction. |
| 8597 |
The Magistrate was wonderfully struck by his educational acquirements, deeply impressed by the excellence of his letters, exceedingly sorry to see a man of his attainments there, complimented him highly on his powers of composition, and was quite charmed to have the agreeable duty of discharging him. |
| 8598 |
The cause of this is to be found (as no one knows better than the Begging Letter Writer, for it is a part of his speculation) in the aversion people feel to exhibit themselves as having been imposed upon, or as having weakly gratified their consciences with a lazy, flimsy substitute for the noblest of all virtues. |
| 8599 |
They trade upon every circumstance within their knowledge that affects us, public or private, joyful or sorrowful; they pervert the lessons of our lives; they change what ought to be our strength and virtue into weakness, and encouragement of vice. There is a plain remedy, and it is in our own hands. |
| 8600 |
It is dead low water. A ripple plays among the ripening corn upon the cliff, as if it were faintly trying from recollection to imitate the sea; and the world of butterflies hovering over the crop of radish seed are as restless in their little way as the gulls are in their larger manner when the wind blows. |
| 8601 |
Down the street, there is a toy ship of considerable burden, in the same condition. Two of the boys who were entered for that raffle have gone to India in real ships, since; and one was shot, and died in the arms of his sister's lover, by whom he sent his last words home. This is the library for the Minerva Press. |
| 8602 |
If you want that kind of reading, come to our watering place. The leaves of the romances, reduced to a condition very like curl paper, are thickly studded with notes in pencil: sometimes complimentary, sometimes jocose. Some of these commentators, like commentators in a more extensive way, quarrel with one another. |
| 8603 |
As to finding either house or lodging of which you could reduce the terms, you could scarcely engage in a more hopeless pursuit. For all this, you are to observe that every season is the worst season ever known, and that the householding population of our watering place are ruined regularly every autumn. |
| 8604 |
The lords and ladies get on well enough and quite good humouredly: but if you want to see the gorgeous phenomena who wait upon them at a perfect non plus, you should come and look at the resplendent creatures with little back parlours for servants' halls, and turn up bedsteads to sleep in, at our watering place. |
| 8605 |
For this, and for the recollection of their comrades whom we have known, whom the raging sea has engulfed before their children's eyes in such brave efforts, whom the secret sand has buried, we hold the boatmen of our watering place in our love and honour, and are tender of the fame they well deserve. |
| 8606 |
The sands are the children's great resort. They cluster there, like ants: so busy burying their particular friends, and making castles with infinite labour which the next tide overthrows, that it is curious to consider how their play, to the music of the sea, foreshadows the realities of their after lives. |
| 8607 |
Our chief clerical dignitary, who, to his honour, has done much for education both in time and money, and has established excellent schools, is a sound, shrewd, healthy gentleman, who has got into little occasional difficulties with the neighbouring farmers, but has had a pestilent trick of being right. |
| 8608 |
They were stooping, blear eyed, dull old men, slip shod and shabby, in long skirted short waisted coats and meagre trousers, and yet with a ghost of gentility hovering in their company. They spoke little to each other, and looked as if they might have been politically discontented if they had had vitality enough. |
| 8609 |
They have not only a quarter of their own in the town itself, but they occupy whole villages of their own on the neighbouring cliffs. Their churches and chapels are their own; they consort with one another, they intermarry among themselves, their customs are their own, and their costume is their own and never changes. |
| 8610 |
He owns a compact little estate of some twenty or thirty acres on a lofty hill side, and on it he has built two country houses, which he lets furnished. They are by many degrees the best houses that are so let near our French watering place; we have had the honour of living in both, and can testify. |
| 8611 |
During the first month of our occupation, it was our affliction to be constantly knocking down Napoleon: if we touched a shelf in a dark corner, he toppled over with a crash; and every door we opened, shook him to the soul. Yet M. Loyal is not a man of mere castles in the air, or, as he would say, in Spain. |
| 8612 |
His houses are delightful. He unites French elegance and English comfort, in a happy manner quite his own. He has an extraordinary genius for making tasteful little bedrooms in angles of his roofs, which an Englishman would as soon think of turning to any account as he would think of cultivating the Desert. |
| 8613 |
All traces of the broken windows were billed out, the doors were billed across, the water spout was billed over. The building was shored up to prevent its tumbling into the street; and the very beams erected against it were less wood than paste and paper, they had been so continually posted and reposted. |
| 8614 |
Pausing to dwell upon this apathy, it appeared to me, as the fatal cars came by me, that I descried in the second car, through the portal in which the charioteer was seated, a figure stretched upon the floor. At the same time, I thought I smelt tobacco. The latter impression passed quickly from me; the former remained. |
| 8615 |
They used sometimes to be stationed in large towns for five or six months together, distributing the schemes to all the houses in the town. And then there were more caricature wood block engravings for posting bills than there are at the present time, the principal printers, at that time, of posting bills being Messrs. |
| 8616 |
His Majesty remarked, with some approach to severity, on the neglect of delicacy and taste, gradually introduced into the trade by the new school: a profligate and inferior race of impostors who took jobs at almost any price, to the detriment of the old school, and the confusion of their own misguided employers. |
| 8617 |
I must do the King the justice to say that it was I, and not he, who closed the dialogue. At this juncture, I became the subject of a remarkable optical delusion; the legs of my stool appeared to me to double up; the car to spin round and round with great violence; and a mist to arise between myself and His Majesty. |
| 8618 |
In addition to these sensations, I felt extremely unwell. I refer these unpleasant effects, either to the paste with which the posters were affixed to the van: which may have contained some small portion of arsenic; or, to the printer's ink, which may have contained some equally deleterious ingredient. |
| 8619 |
The first intimation I had, of any preparations being in progress, on the part of Maria Jane's Mama, was one afternoon, several months ago. I came home earlier than usual from the office, and, proceeding into the dining room, found an obstruction behind the door, which prevented it from opening freely. |
| 8620 |
But how do I know that she might not have brought them up much better? Maria Jane herself is far from strong, and is subject to headaches, and nervous indigestion. Besides which, I learn from the statistical tables that one child in five dies within the first year of its life; and one child in three, within the fifth. |
| 8621 |
Until, strolling past the gloomy place one night, when the street was deserted and quiet, and actually seeing that the bodies were not there, my fancy was persuaded, as it were, to take them down and bury them within the precincts of the jail, where they have lain ever since. The balloon ascents of last season. |
| 8622 |
Their pleasure is in the difficulty overcome. They are a public of great faith, and are quite confident that the gentleman will not fall off the horse, or the lady off the bull or out of the parachute, and that the tumbler has a firm hold with his toes. They do not go to see the adventurer vanquished, but triumphant. |
| 8623 |
It is bad for a people to be familiarised with such punishments. When the whip went out of Bridewell, and ceased to be flourished at the carts tail and at the whipping post, it began to fade out of madhouses, and workhouses, and schools and families, and to give place to a better system everywhere, than cruel driving. |
| 8624 |
As I turned into my court, I really thought a thunderbolt would fall, and plough the pavement up. Every brick and stone in the place seemed to have an echo of its own for the thunder. The waterspouts were overcharged, and the rain came tearing down from the house tops as if they had been mountain tops. |
| 8625 |
Public Houses, where splendid footmen swinging their legs over gorgeous hammer cloths beside wigged coachmen were wont to regale, were silent, and the unused pewter pots shone, too bright for business, on the shelves. I beheld a Punch's Show leaning against a wall near Park Lane, as if it had fainted. |
| 8626 |
Within a quarter of a century, it was a little fishing town, and they do say, that the time was, when it was a little smuggling town. I have heard that it was rather famous in the hollands and brandy way, and that coevally with that reputation the lamplighter's was considered a bad life at the Assurance Offices. |
| 8627 |
Indeed, we were getting on so fast, at one time, that we rather overdid it, and built a street of shops, the business of which may be expected to arrive in about ten years. We are sensibly laid out in general; and with a little care and pains (by no means wanting, so far), shall become a very pretty place. |
| 8628 |
If you are for public life at our great Pavilionstone Hotel, you walk into that establishment as if it were your club; and find ready for you, your news room, dining room, smoking room, billiard room, music room, public breakfast, public dinner twice a day (one plain, one gorgeous), hot baths and cold baths. |
| 8629 |
Nor does the travelling menagerie think us worth a longer visit. It gave us a look in the other day, bringing with it the residentiary van with the stained glass windows, which Her Majesty kept ready made at Windsor Castle, until she found a suitable opportunity of submitting it for the proprietor's acceptance. |
| 8630 |
But, the moment the tide begins to make, the Pavilionstone Harbour begins to revive. It feels the breeze of the rising water before the water comes, and begins to flutter and stir. When the little shallow waves creep in, barely overlapping one another, the vanes at the mastheads wake, and become agitated. |
| 8631 |
The trees blown all one way; the defences of the harbour reared highest and strongest against the raging point; the shingle flung up on the beach from the same direction; the number of arrows pointed at the common enemy; the sea tumbling in and rushing towards them as if it were inflamed by the sight. |
| 8632 |
A walk of ten miles brought me to a seaside town without a cliff, which, like the town I had come from, was out of the season too. Half of the houses were shut up; half of the other half were to let; the town might have done as much business as it was doing then, if it had been at the bottom of the sea. |
| 8633 |
We spent some sadly interesting hours together on this occasion, and she told me again of her cruel discharge from the Abbaye, and of her being re arrested before her free feet had sprung lightly up half a dozen steps of her own staircase, and carried off to the prison which she only left for the guillotine. |
| 8634 |
Three other shops were pretty much out of the season, what they were used to be in it. First, the shop where they sell the sailors' watches, which had still the old collection of enormous timekeepers, apparently designed to break a fall from the masthead: with places to wind them up, like fire plugs. |
| 8635 |
It took me so long fully to relish these many enjoyments, that I had not more than an hour before bedtime to devote to Madame Roland. We got on admirably together on the subject of her convent education, and I rose next morning with the full conviction that the day for the great chapter was at last arrived. |
| 8636 |
I have often heard him deliver that what is, at every turn, in the way of us working men, is, that too many places have been made, in the course of time, to provide for people that never ought to have been provided for; and that we have to obey forms and to pay fees to support those places when we shouldn't ought. |
| 8637 |
The noble savage sets a king to reign over him, to whom he submits his life and limbs without a murmur or question, and whose whole life is passed chin deep in a lake of blood; but who, after killing incessantly, is in his turn killed by his relations and friends, the moment a grey hair appears on his head. |
| 8638 |
When the noble savage finds himself a little unwell, and mentions the circumstance to his friends, it is immediately perceived that he is under the influence of witchcraft. A learned personage, called an Imyanger or Witch Doctor, is immediately sent for to Nooker the Umtargartie, or smell out the witch. |
| 8639 |
But the nookering is invariably followed on the spot by the butchering. Some of the noble savages in whom Mr. Catlin was so strongly interested, and the diminution of whose numbers, by rum and smallpox, greatly affected him, had a custom not unlike this, though much more appalling and disgusting in its odious details. |
| 8640 |
Plunges into the carriage, blind. Calls out of window concerning his luggage, deaf. Suffocates himself under pillows of great coats, for no reason, and in a demented manner. Will receive no assurance from any porter whatsoever. Is stout and hot, and wipes his head, and makes himself hotter by breathing so hard. |
| 8641 |
Flash! The distant shipping in the Thames is gone. Whirr! The little streets of new brick and red tile, with here and there a flagstaff growing like a tall weed out of the scarlet beans, and, everywhere, plenty of open sewer and ditch for the promotion of the public health, have been fired off in a volley. |
| 8642 |
Mystery eating sponge cake. Pine apple atmosphere faintly tinged with suspicions of sherry. Demented Traveller flits past the carriage, looking for it. Is blind with agitation, and can't see it. Seems singled out by Destiny to be the only unhappy creature in the flight, who has any cause to hurry himself. |
| 8643 |
And we beg to repeat that, avoiding such topics as it might for obvious reasons be injurious to the public, or disagreeable to respectable individuals, to touch upon in print, our description is as exact as we can make it. The reader will have the goodness to imagine the Sanctum Sanctorum of Household Words. |
| 8644 |
Anything that best suits the reader's fancy, will best represent that magnificent chamber. We merely stipulate for a round table in the middle, with some glasses and cigars arranged upon it; and the editorial sofa elegantly hemmed in between that stately piece of furniture and the wall. It is a sultry evening at dusk. |
| 8645 |
Every man of them, in a glance, immediately takes an inventory of the furniture and an accurate sketch of the editorial presence. The Editor feels that any gentleman in company could take him up, if need should be, without the smallest hesitation, twenty years hence. The whole party are in plain clothes. |
| 8646 |
He is famous for steadily pursuing the inductive process, and, from small beginnings, working on from clue to clue until he bags his man. Sergeant Witchem, shorter and thicker set, and marked with the small pox, has something of a reserved and thoughtful air, as if he were engaged in deep arithmetical calculations. |
| 8647 |
From these topics, we glide into a review of the most celebrated and horrible of the great crimes that have been committed within the last fifteen or twenty years. The men engaged in the discovery of almost all of them, and in the pursuit or apprehension of the murderers, are here, down to the very last instance. |
| 8648 |
I got a cab, followed on the box, and was so quick after him that I came into the stable yard of the Warwick Arms, by one gate, just as he came in by another. I went into the bar, where there was a young woman serving, and called for a glass of brandy and water. He came in directly, and handed her the letter. |
| 8649 |
From information I, the officer, received, I did it; and, according to the custom in these cases, I say no more. These games of chess, played with live pieces, are played before small audiences, and are chronicled nowhere. The interest of the game supports the player. Its results are enough for justice. |
| 8650 |
I got under the sofa, lay down on my chest, took out my knife, and made a convenient hole in the chintz to look through. It was then settled between me and the gentlemen that when the students were all up in the wards, one of the gentlemen should come in, and hang up a great coat on one of the pegs. |
| 8651 |
Saint Giles's clock is striking nine. The weather is dull and wet, and the long lines of street lamps are blurred, as if we saw them through tears. A damp wind blows and rakes the pieman's fire out, when he opens the door of his little furnace, carrying away an eddy of sparks. Saint Giles's clock strikes nine. |
| 8652 |
We stoop low, and creep down a precipitous flight of steps into a dark close cellar. There is a fire. There is a long deal table. There are benches. The cellar is full of company, chiefly very young men in various conditions of dirt and raggedness. Some are eating supper. There are no girls or women present. |
| 8653 |
They sleep sound enough, says Deputy, taking the candle out of the blacking bottle, snuffing it with his fingers, throwing the snuff into the bottle, and corking it up with the candle; that's all I know. What is the inscription, Deputy, on all the discoloured sheets? A precaution against loss of linen. |
| 8654 |
Even in the midst of drunkenness, both of the lethargic kind and the lively, there is sharp landlord supervision, and pockets are in less peril than out of doors. These houses show, singularly, how much of the picturesque and romantic there truly is in the sailor, requiring to be especially addressed. |
| 8655 |
Now returns. The landlord will send a deputy immediately. Deputy is heard to stumble out of bed. Deputy lights a candle, draws back a bolt or two, and appears at the door. Deputy is a shivering shirt and trousers by no means clean, a yawning face, a shock head much confused externally and internally. |
| 8656 |
A woman mysteriously sitting up all night in the dark by the smouldering ashes of the kitchen fire, says it's only tramps and cadgers here; it's gonophs over the way. A man mysteriously walking about the kitchen all night in the dark, bids her hold her tongue. We come out. Deputy fastens the door and goes to bed again. |
| 8657 |
As we parley on the step with Bark's Deputy, Bark growls in his bed. We enter, and Bark flies out of bed. Bark is a red villain and a wrathful, with a sanguine throat that looks very much as if it were expressly made for hanging, as he stretches it out, in pale defiance, over the half door of his hutch. |
| 8658 |
Stimulated by the ravings of Bark, above, their looks are sullen, but not a man speaks. We ascend again. Bark has got his trousers, and is in a state of madness in the passage with his back against a door that shuts off the upper staircase. We observe, in other respects, a ferocious individuality in Bark. |
| 8659 |
We were watching certain water rats of human growth, and lay in the deep shade as quiet as mice; our light hidden and our scraps of conversation carried on in whispers. Above us, the massive iron girders of the arch were faintly visible, and below us its ponderous shadow seemed to sink down to the bottom of the stream. |
| 8660 |
He could not by any means get servants to suit him, and he had a tyrannical old godmother, whose name was Tape. She was a Fairy, this Tape, and was a bright red all over. She was disgustingly prim and formal, and could never bend herself a hair's breadth this way or that way, out of her naturally crooked shape. |
| 8661 |
This was not on the whole an advantageous state of things for Prince Bull, to the best of my understanding. The worst of it was, that Prince Bull had in course of years lapsed into such a state of subjection to this unlucky godmother, that he never made any serious effort to rid himself of her tyranny. |
| 8662 |
It provides me with a trackless desert of sitting room, with a chair for every day in the year, a table for every month, and a waste of sideboard where a lonely China vase pines in a corner for its mate long departed, and will never make a match with the candlestick in the opposite corner if it live till Doomsday. |
| 8663 |
Of course I did. I had seen and enjoyed everything that the plate recalled to me, and had beheld with admiration how the rotatory motion which keeps this ball of ours in its place in the great scheme, with all its busy mites upon it, was necessary throughout the process, and could only be dispensed with in the fire. |
| 8664 |
When our honourable friend issued his preliminary address to the constituent body of Verbosity on the occasion of one particular glorious triumph, it was supposed by some of his enemies, that even he would be placed in a situation of difficulty by the following comparatively trifling conjunction of circumstances. |
| 8665 |
It is to men like our honourable friend, and to contests like those from which he comes triumphant, that we are mainly indebted for that ready interest in politics, that fresh enthusiasm in the discharge of the duties of citizenship, that ardent desire to rush to the poll, at present so manifest throughout England. |
| 8666 |
It seems as if our schools were doomed to be the sport of change. We have faint recollections of a Preparatory Day School, which we have sought in vain, and which must have been pulled down to make a new street, ages ago. We have dim impressions, scarcely amounting to a belief, that it was over a dyer's shop. |
| 8667 |
After staying for a quarter, during which period, though closely observed, he was never seen to do anything but make pens out of quills, write small hand in a secret portfolio, and punch the point of the sharpest blade in his knife into his desk all over it, he too disappeared, and his place knew him no more. |
| 8668 |
There was another boy, a fair, meek boy, with a delicate complexion and rich curling hair, who, we found out, or thought we found out (we have no idea now, and probably had none then, on what grounds, but it was confidentially revealed from mouth to mouth), was the son of a Viscount who had deserted his lovely mother. |
| 8669 |
He was a very suggestive topic. So was a young Mulatto, who was always believed (though very amiable) to have a dagger about him somewhere. But, we think they were both outshone, upon the whole, by another boy who claimed to have been born on the twenty ninth of February, and to have only one birthday in five years. |
| 8670 |
The boys trained the mice, much better than the masters trained the boys. We recall one white mouse, who lived in the cover of a Latin dictionary, who ran up ladders, drew Roman chariots, shouldered muskets, turned wheels, and even made a very creditable appearance on the stage as the Dog of Montargis. |
| 8671 |
The mice were the occasion of some most ingenious engineering, in the construction of their houses and instruments of performance. The famous one belonged to a company of proprietors, some of whom have since made Railroads, Engines, and Telegraphs; the chairman has erected mills and bridges in New Zealand. |
| 8672 |
We exaggerated in our imaginations the extent to which he punished Maxby's father's cold meat at supper; and we agreed to believe that he was elevated with wine and water when he came home. But, we all liked him; for he had a good knowledge of boys, and would have made it a much better school if he had had more power. |
| 8673 |
Nevertheless, one time when we had the scarlet fever in the school, Phil nursed all the sick boys of his own accord, and was like a mother to them. There was another school not far off, and of course Our School could have nothing to say to that school. It is mostly the way with schools, whether of boys or men. |
| 8674 |
Who they are, or what they are, or where they are, nobody knows; but, whatever one asserts, the other contradicts. They are both voluminous writers, indicting more epistles than Lord Chesterfield in a single week; and the greater part of their feelings are too big for utterance in anything less than capital letters. |
| 8675 |
It wouldn't hear of rescue. Like Mr. Joseph Miller's Frenchman, it would be drowned and nobody should save it. Transported beyond grammar by its kindled ire, it spoke in unknown tongues, and vented unintelligible bellowings, more like an ancient oracle than the modern oracle it is admitted on all hands to be. |
| 8676 |
He may put fifty people out of temper, but he keeps his own. He preserves a sickly solid smile upon his face, when other faces are ruffled by the perfection he has attained in his art, and has an equable voice which never travels out of one key or rises above one pitch. His manner is a manner of tranquil interest. |
| 8677 |
He was conducted, in a primitive triumph, to the little inn: where he was taken ill next morning, and lay for six weeks, attended by the amiable hostess (the same benevolent old lady who had wept over night) and her charming daughter, Fanchette. It is nothing to say that they were attentive to him; they doted on him. |
| 8678 |
He is in the habit of expressing mysterious opinions on this wide range of subjects, but on questions of foreign policy more particularly, to our bore, in letters; and our bore is continually sending bits of these letters to the newspapers (which they never insert), and carrying other bits about in his pocket book. |
| 8679 |
He happens to know many things that nobody else knows. He can generally tell you where the split is in the Ministry; he knows a great deal about the Queen; and has little anecdotes to relate of the royal nursery. He gives you the judge's private opinion of Sludge the murderer, and his thoughts when he tried him. |
| 8680 |
Whenever we see our bore behind a door with another bore, we know that when he comes forth, he will praise the other bore as one of the most intelligent men he ever met. And this bringing us to the close of what we had to say about our bore, we are anxious to have it understood that he never bestowed this praise on us. |
| 8681 |
We can neither choose our road, nor our pace, for that is all prescribed to us. The public convenience demands that our carts should get to Paris by such a route, and no other (Napoleon had leisure to find that out, while he had a little war with the world upon his hands), and woe betide us if we infringe orders. |
| 8682 |
There are no iron prongs here. The market for cattle is held as quietly as the market for calves. In due time, off the cattle go to Paris; the drovers can no more choose their road, nor their time, nor the numbers they shall drive, than they can choose their hour for dying in the course of nature. Sheep next. |
| 8683 |
Many of the animals from Poissy have come here. On the arrival of each drove, it was turned into yonder ample space, where each butcher who had bought, selected his own purchases. Some, we see now, in these long perspectives of stalls with a high over hanging roof of wood and open tiles rising above the walls. |
| 8684 |
It has two doors opposite each other; the first, the door by which I entered from the main yard; the second, which is opposite, opening on another smaller yard, where the sheep and calves are killed on benches. The pavement of that yard, I see, slopes downward to a gutter, for its being more easily cleansed. |
| 8685 |
It is not a hideous visage in itself; it is even meant to be droll, why then were its stolid features so intolerable? Surely not because it hid the wearer's face. An apron would have done as much; and though I should have preferred even the apron away, it would not have been absolutely insupportable, like the mask. |
| 8686 |
Common flower pots are full of treasure, with a little earth scattered on the top; trees are for Ali Baba to hide in; beef steaks are to throw down into the Valley of Diamonds, that the precious stones may stick to them, and be carried by the eagles to their nests, whence the traders, with loud cries, will scare them. |
| 8687 |
Any iron ring let into stone is the entrance to a cave which only waits for the magician, and the little fire, and the necromancy, that will make the earth shake. All the dates imported come from the same tree as that unlucky date, with whose shell the merchant knocked out the eye of the genie's invisible son. |
| 8688 |
In connection with it I descry remembrances of winter nights incredibly long; of being sent early to bed, as a punishment for some small offence, and waking in two hours, with a sensation of having been asleep two nights; of the laden hopelessness of morning ever dawning; and the oppression of a weight of remorse. |
| 8689 |
Away into the winter prospect. There are many such upon the tree! On, by low lying, misty grounds, through fens and fogs, up long hills, winding dark as caverns between thick plantations, almost shutting out the sparkling stars; so, out on broad heights, until we stop at last, with sudden silence, at an avenue. |
| 8690 |
Their watchful eyes beneath the fern may be shining now, if we could see them, like the icy dewdrops on the leaves; but they are still, and all is still. And so, the lights growing larger, and the trees falling back before us, and closing up again behind us, as if to forbid retreat, we come to the house. |
| 8691 |
We are a middle aged nobleman, and we make a generous supper with our host and hostess and their guests it being Christmas time, and the old house full of company and then we go to bed. Our room is a very old room. It is hung with tapestry. We don't like the portrait of a cavalier in green, over the fireplace. |
| 8692 |
There are great black beams in the ceiling, and there is a great black bedstead, supported at the foot by two great black figures, who seem to have come off a couple of tombs in the old baronial church in the park, for our particular accommodation. But, we are not a superstitious nobleman, and we don't mind. |
| 8693 |
Then, we notice that her clothes are wet. Our tongue cleaves to the roof of our mouth, and we can't speak; but, we observe her accurately. Her clothes are wet; her long hair is dabbled with moist mud; she is dressed in the fashion of two hundred years ago; and she has at her girdle a bunch of rusty keys. |
| 8694 |
Presently she gets up, and tries all the locks in the room with the rusty keys, which won't fit one of them; then, she fixes her eyes on the portrait of the cavalier in green, and says, in a low, terrible voice, "The stags know it!" After that, she wrings her hands again, passes the bedside, and goes out at the door. |
| 8695 |
Or, a friend of somebody's whom most of us know, when he was a young man at college, had a particular friend, with whom he made the compact that, if it were possible for the Spirit to return to this earth after its separation from the body, he of the twain who first died, should reappear to the other. |
| 8696 |
He felt a strange sensation at seeing it so still, but slackened his trot and rode forward. When he was so close to it, as almost to touch it with his stirrup, his horse shied, and the figure glided up the bank, in a curious, unearthly manner backward, and without seeming to use its feet and was gone. |
| 8697 |
There was a story that this place had once been held in trust by the guardian of a young boy; who was himself the next heir, and who killed the young boy by harsh and cruel treatment. She knew nothing of that. It has been said that there was a Cage in her bedroom in which the guardian used to put the boy. |
| 8698 |
There was only a closet. She went to bed, made no alarm whatever in the night, and in the morning said composedly to her maid when she came in, "Who is the pretty forlorn looking child who has been peeping out of that closet all night?" The maid replied by giving a loud scream, and instantly decamping. |
| 8699 |
That, through life, I have been rather put upon and disappointed in a general way. That I am at present a bachelor of between fifty nine and sixty years of age, living on a limited income in the form of a quarterly allowance, to which I see that John our esteemed host wishes me to make no further allusion. |
| 8700 |
I have a particular affection for that child, and he takes very kindly to me. He is a diffident boy by nature; and in a crowd he is soon run over, as I may say, and forgotten. He and I, however, get on exceedingly well. I have a fancy that the poor child will in time succeed to my peculiar position in the family. |
| 8701 |
I am told he will then be at play upon the Heath; and if my visits should be objected to, as unsettling the child, I can see him from a distance without his seeing me, and walk back again. His mother comes of a highly genteel family, and rather disapproves, I am aware, of our being too much together. |
| 8702 |
Christiana accepted me with her mother's consent, and I was rendered very happy indeed. My life at my uncle Chill's was of a spare dull kind, and my garret chamber was as dull, and bare, and cold, as an upper prison room in some stern northern fortress. But, having Christiana's love, I wanted nothing upon earth. |
| 8703 |
Avarice was, unhappily, my uncle Chill's master vice. Though he was rich, he pinched, and scraped, and clutched, and lived miserably. As Christiana had no fortune, I was for some time a little fearful of confessing our engagement to him; but, at length I wrote him a letter, saying how it all truly was. |
| 8704 |
As my uncle adjured her to look at me, he put his lean grip on the crown of her head, she kneeling beside him, and turned her face towards me. An involuntary thought connecting them both with the Dissecting Room, as it must often have been in the surgeon's time, passed across my mind in the midst of my anxiety. |
| 8705 |
My dear Michael, it is not right that I should keep secret from you what you do not suspect, but what distresses my whole life. My mother: without considering that what you have lost, you have lost for me, and on the assurance of my faith: sets her heart on riches, and urges another suit upon me, to my misery. |
| 8706 |
Our two families are closely united in other ties of attachment. It is very pleasant of an evening, when we are all assembled together which frequently happens and when John and I talk over old times, and the one interest there has always been between us. I really do not know, in my Castle, what loneliness is. |
| 8707 |
The gentleman was not alone, but had a lady of about the same age with him, who was his Wife; and they had children, who were with them too. So, they all went on together through the wood, cutting down the trees, and making a path through the branches and the fallen leaves, and carrying burdens, and working hard. |
| 8708 |
And the traveller and he were left alone together. And they went on and on together, until they came to very near the end of the wood: so near, that they could see the sunset shining red before them through the trees. Yet, once more, while he broke his way among the branches, the traveller lost his friend. |
| 8709 |
Who can wonder! Old Cheeseman one night walked in his sleep, put his hat on over his night cap, got hold of a fishing rod and a cricket bat, and went down into the parlour, where they naturally thought from his appearance he was a Ghost. Why, he never would have done that if his meals had been wholesome. |
| 8710 |
When we all begin to walk in our sleeps, I suppose they'll be sorry for it. Old Cheeseman wasn't second Latin Master then; he was a fellow himself. He was first brought there, very small, in a post chaise, by a woman who was always taking snuff and shaking him and that was the most he remembered about it. |
| 8711 |
The holidays brought him into other trouble besides the loneliness; because when the fellows began to come back, not wanting to, he was always glad to see them; which was aggravating when they were not at all glad to see him, and so he got his head knocked against walls, and that was the way his nose bled. |
| 8712 |
When it was settled in this strong way that Old Cheeseman was a tremendous traitor, who had wormed himself into our fellows' secrets on purpose to get himself into favour by giving up everything he knew, all courageous fellows were invited to come forward and enrol themselves in a Society for making a set against him. |
| 8713 |
All this produced a great effect on Old Cheeseman. He had never had much hair; but what he had, began to get thinner and thinner every day. He grew paler and more worn; and sometimes of an evening he was seen sitting at his desk with a precious long snuff to his candle, and his hands before his face, crying. |
| 8714 |
Jane was a sort of wardrobe woman to our fellows, and took care of the boxes. She had come at first, I believe, as a kind of apprentice some of our fellows say from a Charity, but I don't know and after her time was out, had stopped at so much a year. So little a year, perhaps I ought to say, for it is far more likely. |
| 8715 |
She was not quite pretty; but she had a very frank, honest, bright face, and all our fellows were fond of her. She was uncommonly neat and cheerful, and uncommonly comfortable and kind. And if anything was the matter with a fellow's mother, he always went and showed the letter to Jane. Jane was Old Cheeseman's friend. |
| 8716 |
However, they went up, and the President told Jane all about it. Upon which Jane turned very red, burst into tears, informed the President and the deputation, in a way not at all like her usual way, that they were a parcel of malicious young savages, and turned the whole respected body out of the room. |
| 8717 |
The mysterious looks of the other masters after breakfast, and the evident fact that old Cheeseman was not expected, confirmed the Society in this opinion. Some began to discuss whether the President was liable to hanging or only transportation for life, and the President's face showed a great anxiety to know which. |
| 8718 |
Some of the Society considered that he had better run away until he found a forest where he might change clothes with a wood cutter, and stain his face with blackberries; but the majority believed that if he stood his ground, his father belonging as he did to the West Indies, and being worth millions could buy him off. |
| 8719 |
Lots of them wanted to resign, and lots more began to try to make out that they had never belonged to it. However, the President stuck up, and said that they must stand or fall together, and that if a breach was made it should be over his body which was meant to encourage the Society: but it didn't. |
| 8720 |
After days and days of hard thinking, and drawing armies all over his slate, the President called our fellows together, and made the matter clear. He said it was plain that when Old Cheeseman came on the appointed day, his first revenge would be to impeach the Society, and have it flogged all round. |
| 8721 |
At the close of his observations he would make a signal to a Prizefighter concealed in the passage, who would then appear and pitch into the Reverend, till he was left insensible. Old Cheeseman would then make Jane a present of from five to ten pounds, and would leave the establishment in fiendish triumph. |
| 8722 |
There had been much discussing and disputing as to how Old Cheeseman would come; but it was the general opinion that he would appear in a sort of triumphal car drawn by four horses, with two livery servants in front, and the Prizefighter in disguise up behind. So, all our fellows sat listening for the sound of wheels. |
| 8723 |
I could never enjoy it without exchanging congratulations with you. If we have ever misunderstood one another at all, pray, my dear boys, let us forgive and forget. I have a great tenderness for you, and I am sure you return it. I want in the fulness of a grateful heart to shake hands with you every one. |
| 8724 |
In such a bonnet! And if you'll believe me, Jane was married to Old Cheeseman. It soon became quite a regular thing when our fellows were hard at it in the playground, to see a carriage at the low part of the wall where it joins the high part, and a lady and gentleman standing up in it, looking over. |
| 8725 |
I was very much pleased with her face though, and with her good way, and I couldn't help looking at her and at him too with all our fellows clustering so joyfully about them. They soon took notice of me as a new boy, so I thought I might as well swarm up the wall myself, and shake hands with them as the rest did. |
| 8726 |
Beyond this destiny he had no prospect, and he sought none. There was over much drumming, trumpeting, and speech making, in the neighbourhood where he dwelt; but he had nothing to do with that. Such clash and uproar came from the Bigwig family, at the unaccountable proceedings of which race, he marvelled much. |
| 8727 |
Now, his fireside was a bare one, all hemmed in by blackened streets; but it was a precious place to him. The hands of his wife were hardened with toil, and she was old before her time; but she was dear to him. His children, stunted in their growth, bore traces of unwholesome nurture; but they had beauty in his sight. |
| 8728 |
We cannot live healthily and decently, unless they who undertook to manage us provide the means. We cannot be instructed unless they will teach us; we cannot be rationally amused, unless they will amuse us; we cannot but have some false gods of our own, while they set up so many of theirs in all the public places. |
| 8729 |
Far be it from me to assert that what everybody says must be true. Everybody is, often, as likely to be wrong as right. In the general experience, everybody has been wrong so often, and it has taken, in most instances, such a weary while to find out how wrong, that the authority is proved to be fallible. |
| 8730 |
When stray pedestrians, shivering along the latter, looked down at the glowing fires in kitchens, and sharpened their sharp appetites by sniffing up the fragrance of whole miles of dinners. When travellers by land were bitter cold, and looked wearily on gloomy landscapes, rustling and shuddering in the blast. |
| 8731 |
When, in rustic places, the last glimmering of daylight died away from the ends of avenues; and the trees, arching overhead, were sullen and black. When, in parks and woods, the high wet fern and sodden moss, and beds of fallen leaves, and trunks of trees, were lost to view, in masses of impenetrable shade. |
| 8732 |
When these shadows brought into the minds of older people, other thoughts, and showed them different images. When they stole from their retreats, in the likenesses of forms and faces from the past, from the grave, from the deep, deep gulf, where the things that might have been, and never were, are always wandering. |
| 8733 |
From this employment he desisted in a hurry, to stir and feed the fire, and then resumed it; the lamp he had lighted, and the blaze that rose under his hand, so quickly changing the appearance of the room, that it seemed as if the mere coming in of his fresh red face and active manner had made the pleasant alteration. |
| 8734 |
But whereas Mr. William's light hair stood on end all over his head, and seemed to draw his eyes up with it in an excess of bustling readiness for anything, the dark brown hair of Mrs. William was carefully smoothed down, and waved away under a trim tidy cap, in the most exact and quiet manner imaginable. |
| 8735 |
The Chemist pushed his plate away, and, rising from the table, walked across the room to where the old man stood looking at a little sprig of holly in his hand. "It recalls the time when many of those years were old and new, then?" he said, observing him attentively, and touching him on the shoulder. |
| 8736 |
Without recovering yourself the power that you have yielded up, you shall henceforth destroy its like in all whom you approach. Your wisdom has discovered that the memory of sorrow, wrong, and trouble is the lot of all mankind, and that mankind would be the happier, in its other memories, without it. |
| 8737 |
It was a very Moloch of a baby, on whose insatiate altar the whole existence of this particular young brother was offered up a daily sacrifice. Its personality may be said to have consisted in its never being quiet, in any one place, for five consecutive minutes, and never going to sleep when required. |
| 8738 |
Nor did they assume a less imposing proportion, when studied with reference to the size of her seven sons, who were but diminutive. In the case of Sally, however, Mrs. Tetterby had asserted herself, at last; as nobody knew better than the victim Johnny, who weighed and measured that exacting idol every hour in the day. |
| 8739 |
The wife was standing in the same place, twisting her ring round and round upon her finger. The husband, with his head bent forward on his breast, was musing heavily and sullenly. The children, still clustering about the mother, gazed timidly after the visitor, and nestled together when they saw him looking down. |
| 8740 |
Health will be more precious to you, after this illness, than it has ever been. And years hence, when this time of year comes round, and you remember the days when you lay here sick, alone, that the knowledge of your illness might not afflict those who are dearest to you, your home will be doubly dear and doubly blest. |
| 8741 |
So, resolving with some difficulty where he was, he directed his steps back to the old college, and to that part of it where the general porch was, and where, alone, the pavement was worn by the tread of the students' feet. The keeper's house stood just within the iron gates, forming a part of the chief quadrangle. |
| 8742 |
Instinctively avoiding this, and going round it, he looked in at the window. At first, he thought that there was no one there, and that the blaze was reddening only the old beams in the ceiling and the dark walls; but peering in more narrowly, he saw the object of his search coiled asleep before it on the floor. |
| 8743 |
As it was not easy to pass without treading on her, and as she was perfectly regardless of his near approach, he stopped, and touched her on the shoulder. Looking up, she showed him quite a young face, but one whose bloom and promise were all swept away, as if the haggard winter should unnaturally kill the spring. |
| 8744 |
Yes, Mrs. Tetterby, going to the door by mere accident, saw him viciously pick out a weak place in the suit of armour where a slap would tell, and slap that blessed child. Mrs. Tetterby had him into the parlour by the collar, in that same flash of time, and repaid him the assault with usury thereto. |
| 8745 |
It was not until Mr. Tetterby had driven the whole herd out at the front door, that a moment's peace was secured; and even that was broken by the discovery that Johnny had surreptitiously come back, and was at that instant choking in the jug like a ventriloquist, in his indecent and rapacious haste. |
| 8746 |
We went together, and all the way along he was so kind, and so subdued, and seemed to put such trust and hope in me, that I could not help trying with pleasure. When we got to the house, we met a woman at the door (somebody had bruised and hurt her, I am afraid), who caught me by the hand, and blessed me as I passed. |
| 8747 |
As I sat there, he held my hand in his until he sank in a doze; and even then, when I withdrew my hand to leave him to come here (which Mr. Redlaw was very earnest indeed in wishing me to do), his hand felt for mine, so that some one else was obliged to take my place and make believe to give him my hand back. |
| 8748 |
And Redlaw so changed towards him, seeing in him and his youthful choice, the softened shadow of that chastening passage in his own life, to which, as to a shady tree, the dove so long imprisoned in his solitary ark might fly for rest and company, fell upon his neck, entreating them to be his children. |
| 8749 |
When I was seated, they built me up with straw to the waist, and, conscious of making a rather ridiculous appearance, I began my journey. It was still dark when we left the Peacock. For a little while, pale, uncertain ghosts of houses and trees appeared and vanished, and then it was hard, black, frozen day. |
| 8750 |
I was warm and valiant after eating and drinking, particularly after dinner; cold and depressed at all other times. I was always bewildered as to time and place, and always more or less out of my senses. The coach and horses seemed to execute in chorus Auld Lang Syne, without a moment's intermission. |
| 8751 |
While we changed horses, the guard and coachman went stumping up and down the road, printing off their shoes in the snow, and poured so much liquid consolation into themselves without being any the worse for it, that I began to confound them, as it darkened again, with two great white casks standing on end. |
| 8752 |
The drift was becoming prodigiously deep; landmarks were getting snowed out; the road and the fields were all one; instead of having fences and hedge rows to guide us, we went crunching on over an unbroken surface of ghastly white that might sink beneath us at any moment and drop us down a whole hillside. |
| 8753 |
One would have thought this enough: notwithstanding which, I pledge my word that it snowed and snowed, and still it snowed, and never left off snowing. We performed Auld Lang Syne the whole day; seeing nothing, out of towns and villages, but the track of stoats, hares, and foxes, and sometimes of birds. |
| 8754 |
So the helpers were already getting the horses out. My declaring myself beaten, after this parley, was not an announcement without preparation. Indeed, but for the way to the announcement being smoothed by the parley, I more than doubt whether, as an innately bashful man, I should have had the confidence to make it. |
| 8755 |
I thought I had never seen such a large room as that into which they showed me. It had five windows, with dark red curtains that would have absorbed the light of a general illumination; and there were complications of drapery at the top of the curtains, that went wandering about the wall in a most extraordinary manner. |
| 8756 |
I asked for a smaller room, and they told me there was no smaller room. They could screen me in, however, the landlord said. They brought a great old japanned screen, with natives (Japanese, I suppose) engaged in a variety of idiotic pursuits all over it; and left me roasting whole before an immense fire. |
| 8757 |
In the morning I found that it was snowing still, that it had snowed all night, and that I was snowed up. Nothing could get out of that spot on the moor, or could come at it, until the road had been cut out by labourers from the market town. When they might cut their way to the Holly Tree nobody could tell me. |
| 8758 |
Here my great secret, the real bashfulness of my character, is to be observed. Like most bashful men, I judge of other people as if they were bashful too. Besides being far too shamefaced to make the proposal myself, I really had a delicate misgiving that it would be in the last degree disconcerting to them. |
| 8759 |
The latter had nothing in them but stock advertisements, a meeting about a county rate, and a highway robbery. As I am a greedy reader, I could not make this supply hold out until night; it was exhausted by tea time. Being then entirely cast upon my own resources, I got through an hour in considering what to do next. |
| 8760 |
It had an ecclesiastical sign, the Mitre, and a bar that seemed to be the next best thing to a bishopric, it was so snug. I loved the landlord's youngest daughter to distraction, but let that pass. It was in this Inn that I was cried over by my rosy little sister, because I had acquired a black eye in a fight. |
| 8761 |
I had always, until that hour, kept it within my own breast that I dreamed every night of the dear lost one. But in the letter that I wrote I recorded the circumstance, and added that I felt much interested in proving whether the subject of my dream would still be faithful to me, travel tired, and in that remote place. |
| 8762 |
He was a man with a weird belief in him that no one could count the stones of Stonehenge twice, and make the same number of them; likewise, that any one who counted them three times nine times, and then stood in the centre and said, "I dare!" would behold a tremendous apparition, and be stricken dead. |
| 8763 |
This weird main, at that stage of metempsychosis, may have been a sleep walker or an enthusiast or a robber; but I awoke one night to find him in the dark at my bedside, repeating the Athanasian Creed in a terrific voice. I paid my bill next day, and retired from the county with all possible precipitation. |
| 8764 |
It began to be noticed, while they were looking high and low, that a Bantam cock, part of the live stock of the Inn, put himself wonderfully out of his way to get to the top of this wood stack; and that he would stay there for hours and hours, crowing, until he appeared in danger of splitting himself. |
| 8765 |
The occupant of that room, with occasional but very rare exceptions, would come down in the morning, trying to recall a forgotten dream he had had in the night. The landlord, on his mentioning his perplexity, would suggest various commonplace subjects, not one of which, as he very well knew, was the true subject. |
| 8766 |
Casting my eyes upon my Holly Tree fire, I next discerned among the glowing coals the pictures of a score or more of those wonderful English posting inns which we are all so sorry to have lost, which were so large and so comfortable, and which were such monuments of British submission to rapacity and extortion. |
| 8767 |
After a draught of sparkling beer from a foaming glass jug, and a glance of recognition through the windows of the student beer houses at Heidelberg and elsewhere, I put out to sea for the Inns of America, with their four hundred beds apiece, and their eight or nine hundred ladies and gentlemen at dinner every day. |
| 8768 |
He wrote poetry, and he rode, and he ran, and he cricketed, and he danced, and he acted, and he done it all equally beautiful. He was uncommon proud of Master Harry as was his only child; but he didn't spoil him neither. He was a gentleman that had a will of his own and a eye of his own, and that would be minded. |
| 8769 |
How did Boots happen to know all this? Why, through being under gardener. Of course he couldn't be under gardener, and be always about, in the summer time, near the windows on the lawn, a mowing, and sweeping, and weeding, and pruning, and this and that, without getting acquainted with the ways of the family. |
| 8770 |
It testified emphatically to my having eaten and drunk, and warmed myself, and slept among the sheltering branches of the Holly Tree, seven days and nights. I had yesterday allowed the road twenty four hours to improve itself, finding that I required that additional margin of time for the completion of my task. |
| 8771 |
I began at the Holly Tree, by idle accident, to associate the Christmas time of year with human interest, and with some inquiry into, and some care for, the lives of those by whom I find myself surrounded. I hope that I am none the worse for it, and that no one near me or afar off is the worse for it. |
| 8772 |
From which point, or from which, she drove ashore, stern foremost; on which side, or on which, she passed the little Island in the bay, for ages henceforth to be aground certain yards outside her; these are rendered bootless questions by the darkness of that night and the darkness of death. Here she went down. |
| 8773 |
Some loss of sovereigns there would be, of course; indeed, at first sovereigns had drifted in with the sand, and been scattered far and wide over the beach, like sea shells; but most other golden treasure would be found. As it was brought up, it went aboard the Tug steamer, where good account was taken of it. |
| 8774 |
It had been remarked of such bodies come ashore, too, as had been seen by scientific men, that they had been stunned to death, and not suffocated. Observation, both of the internal change that had been wrought in them, and of their external expression, showed death to have been thus merciful and easy. |
| 8775 |
The very Commandments had been shouldered out of their places, in the bringing in of the dead; the black wooden tables on which they were painted, were askew, and on the stone pavement below them, and on the stone pavement all over the church, were the marks and stains where the drowned had been laid down. |
| 8776 |
Some faded traces of the wreck of the Australian ship may be discernible on the stone pavement of this little church, hundreds of years hence, when the digging for gold in Australia shall have long and long ceased out of the land. Forty four shipwrecked men and women lay here at one time, awaiting burial. |
| 8777 |
Hard by the Communion Table, were some boots that had been taken off the drowned and preserved a gold digger's boot, cut down the leg for its removal a trodden down man's ankle boot with a buff cloth top and others soaked and sandy, weedy and salt. From the church, we passed out into the churchyard. |
| 8778 |
Here, there lay, at that time, one hundred and forty five bodies, that had come ashore from the wreck. He had buried them, when not identified, in graves containing four each. He had numbered each body in a register describing it, and had placed a corresponding number on each coffin, and over each grave. |
| 8779 |
Similarly, one of the graves for four was lying open and ready, here, in the churchyard. So much of the scanty space was already devoted to the wrecked people, that the villagers had begun to express uneasy doubts whether they themselves could lie in their own ground, with their forefathers and descendants, by and by. |
| 8780 |
The cheerful earnestness of this good Christian minister was as consolatory, as the circumstances out of which it shone were sad. I never have seen anything more delightfully genuine than the calm dismissal by himself and his household of all they had undergone, as a simple duty that was quietly done and ended. |
| 8781 |
Down to yesterday's post outward, my clergyman alone had written one thousand and seventy five letters to relatives and friends of the lost people. In the absence of self assertion, it was only through my now and then delicately putting a question as the occasion arose, that I became informed of these things. |
| 8782 |
Another widow writes: I have received your letter this morning, and do thank you most kindly for the interest you have taken about my dear husband, as well for the sentiments yours contains, evincing the spirit of a Christian who can sympathise with those who, like myself, are broken down with grief. |
| 8783 |
Time may roll on and bear all its sons away, but your name as a disinterested person will stand in history, and, as successive years pass, many a widow will think of your noble conduct, and the tears of gratitude flow down many a cheek, the tribute of a thankful heart, when other things are forgotten for ever. |
| 8784 |
A father writes: I am at a loss to find words to sufficiently express my gratitude to you for your kindness to my son Richard upon the melancholy occasion of his visit to his dear brother's body, and also for your ready attention in pronouncing our beautiful burial service over my poor unfortunate son's remains. |
| 8785 |
They were in a building most monstrously behind the time a mere series of garrets or lofts, with every inconvenient and objectionable circumstance in their construction, and only accessible by steep and narrow staircases, infamously ill adapted for the passage up stairs of the sick or down stairs of the dead. |
| 8786 |
There was nothing repellent either in her face or head. Many, apparently worse, varieties of epilepsy and hysteria were about her, but she was said to be the worst here. When I had spoken to her a little, she still sat with her face turned up, pondering, and a gleam of the mid day sun shone in upon her. |
| 8787 |
From some of the windows, the river could be seen with all its life and movement; the day was bright, but I came upon no one who was looking out. In one large ward, sitting by the fire in arm chairs of distinction, like the President and Vice of the good company, were two old women, upwards of ninety years of age. |
| 8788 |
She had not long lost her husband, and had been in that place little more than a year. At Boston, in the State of Massachusetts, this poor creature would have been individually addressed, would have been tended in her own room, and would have had her life gently assimilated to a comfortable life out of doors. |
| 8789 |
It is so essentially a neighbourhood which has seen better days, that bad weather affects it sooner than another place which has not come down in the World. In its present reduced condition it bears a thaw almost worse than any place I know. It gets so dreadfully low spirited when damp breaks forth. |
| 8790 |
My uncommercial curiosity induced me to go into every nook of this great place, and among every class of the audience assembled in it amounting that evening, as I calculated, to about two thousand and odd hundreds. Magnificently lighted by a firmament of sparkling chandeliers, the building was ventilated to perfection. |
| 8791 |
Such groups were to be seen in all parts of the house; in the boxes and stalls particularly, they were composed of persons of very decent appearance, who had many children with them. Among our dresses there were most kinds of shabby and greasy wear, and much fustian and corduroy that was neither sound nor fragrant. |
| 8792 |
We were not going to lose any part of what we had paid for through anybody's caprice, and as a community we had a character to lose. So, we were closely attentive, and kept excellent order; and let the man or boy who did otherwise instantly get out from this place, or we would put him out with the greatest expedition. |
| 8793 |
I drove up to the entrance (fearful of being late, or I should have come on foot), and found myself in a large crowd of people who, I am happy to state, were put into excellent spirits by my arrival. Having nothing to look at but the mud and the closed doors, they looked at me, and highly enjoyed the comic spectacle. |
| 8794 |
Many a time had the preacher talked with him on that subject, and many a time had he failed to convince that intelligent man. But he fell ill, and died, and before he died he recorded his conversion in words which the preacher had taken down, my fellow sinners, and would read to you from this piece of paper. |
| 8795 |
I have been very glad to hear it, but on this occasion of which I write, the lowest part of the usual audience of the Britannia Theatre, decidedly and unquestionably stayed away. When I first took my seat and looked at the house, my surprise at the change in its occupants was as great as my disappointment. |
| 8796 |
The hymn was then sung, in good time and tune and unison, and its effect was very striking. A comprehensive benevolent prayer dismissed the throng, and in seven or eight minutes there was nothing left in the Theatre but a light cloud of dust. That these Sunday meetings in Theatres are good things, I do not doubt. |
| 8797 |
Besides that it is composed, without favour, of the best men that can be picked, it is directed by an unusual intelligence. Its organisation against Fires, I take to be much better than the metropolitan system, and in all respects it tempers its remarkable vigilance with a still more remarkable discretion. |
| 8798 |
Suddenly pausing in a flow of cheerful discourse, before a dead wall, apparently some ten miles long, Mr. Superintendent struck upon the ground, and the wall opened and shot out, with military salute of hand to temple, two policemen not in the least surprised themselves, not in the least surprising Mr. Superintendent. |
| 8799 |
Pounds a week for talent four pound five pound. Banjo Bones was undoubted talent. Hear this instrument that was going to play it was real talent! In truth it was very good; a kind of piano accordion, played by a young girl of a delicate prettiness of face, figure, and dress, that made the audience look coarser. |
| 8800 |
On delicate inquiry as to salary paid for item of talent under consideration, Mr. Victualler's pounds dropped suddenly to shillings still it was a very comfortable thing for a young person like that, you know; she only went on six times a night, and was only required to be there from six at night to twelve. |
| 8801 |
What is provided for my restoration? The apartment that is to restore me is a wind trap, cunningly set to inveigle all the draughts in that country side, and to communicate a special intensity and velocity to them as they rotate in two hurricanes: one, about my wretched head: one, about my wretched legs. |
| 8802 |
I cannot dine on shining brown patties, composed of unknown animals within, and offering to my view the device of an indigestible star fish in leaden pie crust without. I cannot dine on a sandwich that has long been pining under an exhausted receiver. I cannot dine on barley sugar. I cannot dine on Toffee. |
| 8803 |
It is a most astonishing fact that the waiter is very cold to you. Account for it how you may, smooth it over how you will, you cannot deny that he is cold to you. He is not glad to see you, he does not want you, he would much rather you hadn't come. He opposes to your flushed condition, an immovable composure. |
| 8804 |
We all know, on the other hand, the great station hotel belonging to the company of proprietors, which has suddenly sprung up in the back outskirts of any place we like to name, and where we look out of our palatial windows at little back yards and gardens, old summer houses, fowl houses, pigeon traps, and pigsties. |
| 8805 |
I had two ample Imperials on the roof, other fitted storage for luggage in front, and other up behind; I had a net for books overhead, great pockets to all the windows, a leathern pouch or two hung up for odds and ends, and a reading lamp fixed in the back of the chariot, in case I should be benighted. |
| 8806 |
I was out of the river, and dressing instantly. In the shock I had taken some water into my mouth, and it turned me sick, for I fancied that the contamination of the creature was in it. I had got back to my cool darkened room in the hotel, and was lying on a sofa there, before I began to reason with myself. |
| 8807 |
It would be difficult to overstate the intensity and accuracy of an intelligent child's observation. At that impressible time of life, it must sometimes produce a fixed impression. If the fixed impression be of an object terrible to the child, it will be (for want of reasoning upon) inseparable from great fear. |
| 8808 |
But, inspection of Straudenheim, who became visible at a window on the second floor, convinced me that there was something more precious than liver in the case. He wore a black velvet skull cap, and looked usurious and rich. A large lipped, pear nosed old man, with white hair, and keen eyes, though near sighted. |
| 8809 |
Here, I passed over trembling domes of ice, beneath which the cataract was roaring; and here was received under arches of icicles, of unspeakable beauty; and here the sweet air was so bracing and so light, that at halting times I rolled in the snow when I saw my mule do it, thinking that he must know best. |
| 8810 |
At this part of the journey we would come, at mid day, into half an hour's thaw: when the rough mountain inn would be found on an island of deep mud in a sea of snow, while the baiting strings of mules, and the carts full of casks and bales, which had been in an Arctic condition a mile off, would steam again. |
| 8811 |
I travel constantly, up and down a certain line of railway that has a terminus in London. It is the railway for a large military depot, and for other large barracks. To the best of my serious belief, I have never been on that railway by daylight, without seeing some handcuffed deserters in the train. |
| 8812 |
Here, lay the skeleton of a man, so lightly covered with a thin unwholesome skin, that not a bone in the anatomy was clothed, and I could clasp the arm above the elbow, in my finger and thumb. Here, lay a man with the black scurvy eating his legs away, his gums gone, and his teeth all gaunt and bare. |
| 8813 |
In one bed, lay a man whose life had been saved (as it was hoped) by deep incisions in the feet and legs. While I was speaking to him, a nurse came up to change the poultices which this operation had rendered necessary, and I had an instinctive feeling that it was not well to turn away, merely to spare myself. |
| 8814 |
Secondly, to look round upon those helpless spectres in their beds. Thirdly, to remember that the witnesses produced from among them before that Inquest, could not have been selected because they were the men who had the most to tell it, but because they happened to be in a state admitting of their safe removal. |
| 8815 |
No question did I ever ask of living creature concerning these churches, and no answer to any antiquarian question on the subject that I ever put to books, shall harass the reader's soul. A full half of my pleasure in them arose out of their mystery; mysterious I found them; mysterious they shall remain for me. |
| 8816 |
As I stand at the street corner, I don't see as many as four people at once going to church, though I see as many as four churches with their steeples clamouring for people. I choose my church, and go up the flight of steps to the great entrance in the tower. A mouldy tower within, and like a neglected washhouse. |
| 8817 |
But, we receive the signal to make that unanimous dive which surely is a little conventional like the strange rustlings and settlings and clearings of throats and noses, which are never dispensed with, at certain points of the Church service, and are never held to be necessary under any other circumstances. |
| 8818 |
I remember the church, by the feature that the clergyman couldn't get to his own desk without going through the clerk's, or couldn't get to the pulpit without going through the reading desk I forget which, and it is no matter and by the presence of this personage among the exceedingly sparse congregation. |
| 8819 |
Insomuch that the personage carried in his pocket a green bottle, from which, when the first psalm was given out, the child was openly refreshed. At all other times throughout the service it was motionless, and stood on the seat of the large pew, closely fitted into the corner, like a rain water pipe. |
| 8820 |
That he had lived in the City all his life and was disdainful of other localities, no doubt. Why he looked at the door, I never absolutely proved, but it is my belief that he lived in expectation of the time when the citizens would come back to live in the City, and its ancient glories would be renewed. |
| 8821 |
They lived behind a pump, and the personage opened their abode with an exceeding large key. The one solitary inscription on their house related to a fire plug. The house was partly undermined by a deserted and closed gateway; its windows were blind with dirt; and it stood with its face disconsolately turned to a wall. |
| 8822 |
The last time I saw them, was on this wise. I had been to explore another church at a distance, and happened to pass the church they frequented, at about two of the afternoon when that edifice was closed. But, a little side door, which I had never observed before, stood open, and disclosed certain cellarous steps. |
| 8823 |
On the whole, the associations entwined with the pugilistic art by this artist are much in the manner of Izaak Walton. But, it is with the lower animals of back streets and by ways that my present purpose rests. For human notes we may return to such neighbourhoods when leisure and opportunity serve. |
| 8824 |
Donkeys again. I know shy neighbourhoods where the Donkey goes in at the street door, and appears to live up stairs, for I have examined the back yard from over the palings, and have been unable to make him out. Gentility, nobility, Royalty, would appeal to that donkey in vain to do what he does for a costermonger. |
| 8825 |
He was attached to the establishment of an elderly lady who sold periwinkles, and he used to stand on Saturday nights with a cartful of those delicacies outside a gin shop, pricking up his ears when a customer came to the cart, and too evidently deriving satisfaction from the knowledge that they got bad measure. |
| 8826 |
A flaring candle in a paper shade, stuck in among his periwinkles, showed him, with his ragged harness broken and his cart extensively shattered, twitching his mouth and shaking his hanging head, a picture of disgrace and obduracy. I have seen boys being taken to station houses, who were as like him as his own brother. |
| 8827 |
Being at a town in Yorkshire last summer, and seeing him posted in the bill of the night, I attended the performance. His first scene was eminently successful; but, as it occupied a second in its representation (and five lines in the bill), it scarcely afforded ground for a cool and deliberate judgment of his powers. |
| 8828 |
I may venture to say that I am on terms of intimacy with both, and that I never saw either guilty of the falsehood of failing to look down at the man inside the show, during the whole performance. The difficulty other dogs have in satisfying their minds about these dogs, appears to be never overcome by time. |
| 8829 |
The show was pitched, Toby retired behind the drapery, the audience formed, the drum and pipes struck up. My country dog remained immovable, intently staring at these strange appearances, until Toby opened the drama by appearing on his ledge, and to him entered Punch, who put a tobacco pipe into Toby's mouth. |
| 8830 |
He keeps him up a yard, and makes him go to public houses and lay wagers on him, and obliges him to lean against posts and look at him, and forces him to neglect work for him, and keeps him under rigid coercion. I once knew a fancy terrier who kept a gentleman a gentleman who had been brought up at Oxford, too. |
| 8831 |
At a small butcher's, in a shy neighbourhood (there is no reason for suppressing the name; it is by Notting hill, and gives upon the district called the Potteries), I know a shaggy black and white dog who keeps a drover. He is a dog of an easy disposition, and too frequently allows this drover to get drunk. |
| 8832 |
Not only are they made selfishly ferocious by ruminating on the surplus population around them, and on the densely crowded state of all the avenues to cat's meat; not only is there a moral and politico economical haggardness in them, traceable to these reflections; but they evince a physical deterioration. |
| 8833 |
In appearance, they are very like the women among whom they live. They seem to turn out of their unwholesome beds into the street, without any preparation. They leave their young families to stagger about the gutters, unassisted, while they frouzily quarrel and swear and scratch and spit, at street corners. |
| 8834 |
Not to prolong these notes of uncommercial travel among the lower animals of shy neighbourhoods, by dwelling at length upon the exasperated moodiness of the tom cats, and their resemblance in many respects to a man and a brother, I will come to a close with a word on the fowls of the same localities. |
| 8835 |
Otherwise I might wonder at the completeness with which these fowls have become separated from all the birds of the air have taken to grovelling in bricks and mortar and mud have forgotten all about live trees, and make roosting places of shop boards, barrows, oyster tubs, bulk heads, and door scrapers. |
| 8836 |
He is given to personally correcting her, too which phase of his character develops itself oftenest, on benches outside alehouse doors and she appears to become strongly attached to him for these reasons; it may usually be noticed that when the poor creature has a bruised face, she is the most affectionate. |
| 8837 |
Towards the end of the same walk, on the same bright summer day, at the corner of the next little town or village, you may find another kind of tramp, embodied in the persons of a most exemplary couple whose only improvidence appears to have been, that they spent the last of their little All on soap. |
| 8838 |
Another class of tramp is a man, the most valuable part of whose stock in trade is a highly perplexed demeanour. He is got up like a countryman, and you will often come upon the poor fellow, while he is endeavouring to decipher the inscription on a milestone quite a fruitless endeavour, for he cannot read. |
| 8839 |
For the worst six weeks or so, we should see the sparks we ground off, fiery bright against a background of green wheat and green leaves. A little later, and the ripe harvest would pale our sparks from red to yellow, until we got the dark newly turned land for a background again, and they were red once more. |
| 8840 |
Likewise we foresee great interest in going round by the park plantations, under the overhanging boughs (hares, rabbits, partridges, and pheasants, scudding like mad across and across the chequered ground before us), and so over the park ladder, and through the wood, until we came to the Keeper's lodge. |
| 8841 |
So completely to the family's satisfaction would we achieve our work, that the Keeper would mention how that there was something wrong with the bell of the turret stable clock up at the Hall, and that if we thought good of going up to the housekeeper on the chance of that job too, why he would take us. |
| 8842 |
Shrimps are a favourite commodity for this kind of speculation, and so are cakes of a soft and spongy character, coupled with Spanish nuts and brandy balls. The stock is carried on the head in a basket, and, between the head and the basket, are the trestles on which the stock is displayed at trading times. |
| 8843 |
I have my eye upon a piece of Kentish road, bordered on either side by a wood, and having on one hand, between the road dust and the trees, a skirting patch of grass. Wild flowers grow in abundance on this spot, and it lies high and airy, with a distant river stealing steadily away to the ocean, like a man's life. |
| 8844 |
It was gone. The two beautiful hawthorn trees, the hedge, the turf, and all those buttercups and daisies, had given place to the stoniest of jolting roads: while, beyond the Station, an ugly dark monster of a tunnel kept its jaws open, as if it had swallowed them and were ravenous for more destruction. |
| 8845 |
On referring to lists of the courses of lectures that had been given in this thriving Hall, I fancied I detected a shyness in admitting that human nature when at leisure has any desire whatever to be relieved and diverted; and a furtive sliding in of any poor make weight piece of amusement, shame facedly and edgewise. |
| 8846 |
Emerging from the Mechanics' Institution and continuing my walk about the town, I still noticed everywhere the prevalence, to an extraordinary degree, of this custom of putting the natural demand for amusement out of sight, as some untidy housekeepers put dust, and pretending that it was swept away. |
| 8847 |
Similarly, in the reading provided for the young people enrolled in the Lasso of Love, and other excellent unions, I found the writers generally under a distressing sense that they must start (at all events) like story tellers, and delude the young persons into the belief that they were going to be interesting. |
| 8848 |
But, the clock that had so degenerated since I saw it last, admonished me that I had stayed here long enough; and I resumed my walk. I had not gone fifty paces along the street when I was suddenly brought up by the sight of a man who got out of a little phaeton at the doctor's door, and went into the doctor's house. |
| 8849 |
Now and then in the night but rarely Houselessness would become aware of a furtive head peering out of a doorway a few yards before him, and, coming up with the head, would find a man standing bolt upright to keep within the doorway's shadow, and evidently intent upon no particular service to society. |
| 8850 |
There was need of encouragement on the threshold of the bridge, for the bridge was dreary. The chopped up murdered man, had not been lowered with a rope over the parapet when those nights were; he was alive, and slept then quietly enough most likely, and undisturbed by any dream of where he was to come. |
| 8851 |
Retiring within the proscenium, and holding my light above my head towards the rolled up curtain green no more, but black as ebony my sight lost itself in a gloomy vault, showing faint indications in it of a shipwreck of canvas and cordage. Methought I felt much as a diver might, at the bottom of the sea. |
| 8852 |
To walk on to the Bank, lamenting the good old times and bemoaning the present evil period, would be an easy next step, so I would take it, and would make my houseless circuit of the Bank, and give a thought to the treasure within; likewise to the guard of soldiers passing the night there, and nodding over the fire. |
| 8853 |
It had carried Horace Kinch inside the wall of the old King's Bench prison, and it had carried him out with his feet foremost. He was a likely man to look at, in the prime of life, well to do, as clever as he needed to be, and popular among many friends. He was suitably married, and had healthy and pretty children. |
| 8854 |
Now, too, the conscious gas began to grow pale with the knowledge that daylight was coming, and straggling workpeople were already in the streets, and, as waking life had become extinguished with the last pieman's sparks, so it began to be rekindled with the fires of the first street corner breakfast sellers. |
| 8855 |
And so by faster and faster degrees, until the last degrees were very fast, the day came, and I was tired and could sleep. And it is not, as I used to think, going home at such times, the least wonderful thing in London, that in the real desert region of the night, the houseless wanderer is alone there. |
| 8856 |
Now, they were so dirty that I could take off the distinctest impression of my figure on any article of furniture by merely lounging upon it for a few moments; and it used to be a private amusement of mine to print myself off if I may use the expression all over the rooms. It was the first large circulation I had. |
| 8857 |
Two of the windows of these chambers looked down into the garden; and we have sat up there together many a summer evening, saying how pleasant it was, and talking of many things. To my intimacy with that top set, I am indebted for three of my liveliest personal impressions of the loneliness of life in chambers. |
| 8858 |
For three or four years, Parkle rather knew of him than knew him, but after that for Englishmen short pause of consideration, they began to speak. Parkle exchanged words with him in his private character only, and knew nothing of his business ways, or means. He was a man a good deal about town, but always alone. |
| 8859 |
Alarmed by this intrusion on another man's property, he locked the door again, found his own cellar, filled his scuttle, and returned up stairs. But the furniture he had seen, ran on castors across and across Mr. Testator's mind incessantly, when, in the chill hour of five in the morning, he got to bed. |
| 8860 |
This was his convenient state of mind when, late one night, a step came up the stairs, and a hand passed over his door feeling for his knocker, and then one deep and solemn rap was rapped that might have been a spring in Mr. Testator's easy chair to shoot him out of it; so promptly was it attended with that effect. |
| 8861 |
In dwelling houses, there have been family festivals; children have grown in them, girls have bloomed into women in them, courtships and marriages have taken place in them. True chambers never were young, childish, maidenly; never had dolls in them, or rocking horses, or christenings, or betrothals, or little coffins. |
| 8862 |
So is the sandy beach on which the memorable footstep was impressed, and where the savages hauled up their canoes when they came ashore for those dreadful public dinners, which led to a dancing worse than speech making. So is the cave where the flaring eyes of the old goat made such a goblin appearance in the dark. |
| 8863 |
Next day she listened all day, and heard him make his joke about the house lamb. And that day month, he had the paste rolled out, and cut the fair twin's head off, and chopped her in pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the bones. |
| 8864 |
Next day they went to church in a coach and twelve, and were married. And that day month, she rolled the pie crust out, and Captain Murderer cut her head off, and chopped her in pieces, and peppered her, and salted her, and put her in the pie, and sent it to the baker's, and ate it all, and picked the bones. |
| 8865 |
After exhibiting no articles in his window for some weeks, but sea side wide awakes, shooting caps, and a choice of rough waterproof head gear for the moors and mountains, he has put upon the heads of his family as much of this stock as they could carry, and has taken them off to the Isle of Thanet. |
| 8866 |
The young man has let out the fire at which the irons are heated, and, saving his strong sense of duty, I see no reason why he should take the shutters down. Happily for himself and for his country the young man is a Volunteer; most happily for himself, or I think he would become the prey of a settled melancholy. |
| 8867 |
But, the young man, sustained by practising his exercise, and by constantly furbishing up his regulation plume (it is unnecessary to observe that, as a hatter, he is in a cock's feather corps), is resigned, and uncomplaining. On a Saturday, when he closes early and gets his Knickerbockers on, he is even cheerful. |
| 8868 |
I shut myself into this place of seclusion, after breakfast, and meditate. At such times, I observe the young man loading an imaginary rifle with the greatest precision, and maintaining a most galling and destructive fire upon the national enemy. I thank him publicly for his companionship and his patriotism. |
| 8869 |
I go forth in my slippers, and promenade the pavement. It is pastoral to feel the freshness of the air in the uninhabited town, and to appreciate the shepherdess character of the few milkwomen who purvey so little milk that it would be worth nobody's while to adulterate it, if anybody were left to undertake the task. |
| 8870 |
In making his way below, Mr. Klem never goes down the middle of the passage, like another Christian, but shuffles against the wall as if entreating me to take notice that he is occupying as little space as possible in the house; and whenever I come upon him face to face, he backs from me in fascinated confusion. |
| 8871 |
Such broken victuals as they take by stealth, appear (whatever the nature of the viands) invariably to generate flue; and even the nightly pint of beer, instead of assimilating naturally, strikes me as breaking out in that form, equally on the shabby gown of Mrs. Klem, and the threadbare coat of her husband. |
| 8872 |
Hunt and Roskell's, the jewellers, all things are absent but the precious stones, and the gold and silver, and the soldierly pensioner at the door with his decorated breast. I might stand night and day for a month to come, in Saville row, with my tongue out, yet not find a doctor to look at it for love or money. |
| 8873 |
Soothed by the repose around me, I wander insensibly to considerable distances, and guide myself back by the stars. Thus, I enjoy the contrast of a few still partially inhabited and busy spots where all the lights are not fled, where all the garlands are not dead, whence all but I have not departed. |
| 8874 |
And how did they get, and how did they pay for, that large collection of likenesses, all purporting to have been taken inside, with the taking of none of which had that establishment any more to do than with the taking of Delhi? But, these are small oases, and I am soon back again in metropolitan Arcadia. |
| 8875 |
I have mentioned Saville row. We all know the Doctor's servant. We all know what a respectable man he is, what a hard dry man, what a firm man, what a confidential man: how he lets us into the waiting room, like a man who knows minutely what is the matter with us, but from whom the rack should not wring the secret. |
| 8876 |
In this Arcadian rest, I am fearless of him as of a harmless, powerless creature in a Scotch cap, who adores a young lady in a voluminous crinoline, at a neighbouring billiard room, and whose passion would be uninfluenced if every one of her teeth were false. They may be. He takes them all on trust. |
| 8877 |
I never look out of window but I see kissing of hands going on all around me. It is the morning custom to glide from shop to shop and exchange tender sentiments; it is the evening custom for couples to stand hand in hand at house doors, or roam, linked in that flowery manner, through the unpeopled streets. |
| 8878 |
Connected with them, is a curious little drama, in which the character I myself sustained was so very subordinate that I may relate its story without any fear of being suspected of self display. It is strictly a true story. I am newly arrived one summer evening, in a certain small town on the Mediterranean. |
| 8879 |
Some years ago, this man at my feet, whose over fraught heart is heaving as if it would burst from his breast, and whose tears are wet upon the dress I wear, was a galley slave in the North of Italy. He was a political offender, having been concerned in the then last rising, and was sentenced to imprisonment for life. |
| 8880 |
He lived outside the city gates, some mile or two from the post office, and was accustomed to walk into the city with his letters and post them himself. On a lovely spring day, when the sky was exquisitely blue, and the sea Divinely beautiful, he took his usual walk, carrying this letter to the Advocate in his pocket. |
| 8881 |
As he went along, his gentle heart was much moved by the loveliness of the prospect, and by the thought of the slowly dying prisoner chained to the bedstead, for whom the universe had no delights. As he drew nearer and nearer to the city where he was to post the letter, he became very uneasy in his mind. |
| 8882 |
He debated with himself, was it remotely possible, after all, that this sum of fifty pounds could restore the fellow creature whom he pitied so much, and for whom he had striven so hard, to liberty? He was not a conventionally rich Englishman very far from that but, he had a spare fifty pounds at the banker's. |
| 8883 |
And now, what disquiet of mind this dearly beloved and highly treasured Bottle began to cost me, no man knows. It was my precious charge through a long tour, and, for hundreds of miles, I never had it off my mind by day or by night. Over bad roads and they were many I clung to it with affectionate desperation. |
| 8884 |
Up mountains, I looked in at it and saw it helplessly tilting over on its back, with terror. At innumerable inn doors when the weather was bad, I was obliged to be put into my vehicle before the Bottle could be got in, and was obliged to have the Bottle lifted out before human aid could come near me. |
| 8885 |
It raised important functionaries out of their beds, in the dead of night. I have known half a dozen military lanterns to disperse themselves at all points of a great sleeping Piazza, each lantern summoning some official creature to get up, put on his cocked hat instantly, and come and stop the Bottle. |
| 8886 |
But, I made it a rule always to keep a pocket full of small coin at its service, and never to be out of temper in its cause. Thus, I and the Bottle made our way. Once we had a break down; rather a bad break down, on a steep high place with the sea below us, on a tempestuous evening when it blew great guns. |
| 8887 |
I never yielded to one of them, and never parted from the Bottle, on any pretence, consideration, threat, or entreaty. I had no faith in any official receipt for the Bottle, and nothing would induce me to accept one. These unmanageable politics at last brought me and the Bottle, still triumphant, to Genoa. |
| 8888 |
Even when it can no longer quite conceal itself in its muddy dock, it has an evil way of falling off, has Calais, which is more hopeless than its invisibility. The pier is all but on the bowsprit, and you think you are there roll, roar, wash! Calais has retired miles inland, and Dover has burst out to look for it. |
| 8889 |
Thrice accursed be that garrison town, when it dives under the boat's keel, and comes up a league or two to the right, with the packet shivering and spluttering and staring about for it! Not but what I have my animosities towards Dover. I particularly detest Dover for the self complacency with which it goes to bed. |
| 8890 |
The sea makes noises against the pier, as if several hippopotami were lapping at it, and were prevented by circumstances over which they had no control from drinking peaceably. We, the boat, become violently agitated rumble, hum, scream, roar, and establish an immense family washing day at each paddle box. |
| 8891 |
Uncommercial travels (thus the small, small bird) have lain in their idle thriftless way through all this range of swamp and dyke, as through many other odd places; and about here, as you very well know, are the queer old stone farm houses, approached by drawbridges, and the windmills that you get at by boats. |
| 8892 |
Only the obscene little Morgue, slinking on the brink of the river and soon to come down, was left there, looking mortally ashamed of itself, and supremely wicked. I had but glanced at this old acquaintance, when I beheld an airy procession coming round in front of Notre Dame, past the great hospital. |
| 8893 |
Such of us as had pocket handkerchiefs took a slow, intense, protracted wipe at our noses, and then crammed our handkerchiefs into the breast of our blouses. Others of us who had no handkerchiefs administered a similar relief to our overwrought minds, by means of prolonged smears or wipes of our mouths on our sleeves. |
| 8894 |
But there it was, on that occasion. Three lately popular articles that had been attracting greatly when the litter was first descried coming dancing round the corner by the great cathedral, were so completely deposed now, that nobody save two little girls (one showing them to a doll) would look at them. |
| 8895 |
Ready dash into the street. Toilette finished. Old man coming out. This time, the interest was grown too hot to admit of toleration of the boys on the stone posts. The homicidal white lead worker made a pounce upon one boy who was hoisting himself up, and brought him to earth amidst general commendation. |
| 8896 |
The feet were lightly crossed at the ankles, and the dark hair, all pushed back from the face, as though that had been the last action of her desperate hands, streamed over the ground. Dabbled all about her, was the water and the broken ice that had dropped from her dress, and had splashed as she was got out. |
| 8897 |
Many suns and winds have browned me in the line, but those were my pale days. Having newly taken the lease of a house in a certain distinguished metropolitan parish a house which then appeared to me to be a frightfully first class Family Mansion, involving awful responsibilities I became the prey of a Beadle. |
| 8898 |
This profound man informed me that the Beadle counted on my buying him off; on my bribing him not to summon me; and that if I would attend an Inquest with a cheerful countenance, and profess alacrity in that branch of my country's service, the Beadle would be disheartened, and would give up the game. |
| 8899 |
We were impanelled to inquire concerning the death of a very little mite of a child. It was the old miserable story. Whether the mother had committed the minor offence of concealing the birth, or whether she had committed the major offence of killing the child, was the question on which we were wanted. |
| 8900 |
The fatal day arrived, and we assembled in force. Mrs. Flipfield senior formed an interesting feature in the group, with a blue veined miniature of the late Mr. Flipfield round her neck, in an oval, resembling a tart from the pastrycook's: his hair powdered, and the bright buttons on his coat, evidently very like. |
| 8901 |
I beg to say distinctly that if the stranger had brought Mont Blanc with him, or had come attended by a retinue of eternal snows, he could not have chilled the circle to the marrow in a more efficient manner. Embodied Failure sat enthroned upon the Long lost's brow, and pervaded him to his Long lost boots. |
| 8902 |
In vain Miss Flipfield, in the first transports of this re union, showed him a dint upon her maidenly cheek, and asked him if he remembered when he did that with the bellows? We, the bystanders, were overcome, but overcome by the palpable, undisguisable, utter, and total break down of the Long lost. |
| 8903 |
He had no idea or affected to have no idea that it was his brother's birthday, and on the communication of that interesting fact to him, merely wanted to make him out four years older than he was. He was an antipathetical being, with a peculiar power and gift of treading on everybody's tenderest place. |
| 8904 |
It is needless to add that Flipfield's great birthday went by the board, and that he was a wreck when I pretended at parting to wish him many happy returns of it. There is another class of birthdays at which I have so frequently assisted, that I may assume such birthdays to be pretty well known to the human race. |
| 8905 |
And when we have drunk Mayday's health, and wished him many happy returns, we are seized for some moments with a ghastly blitheness, an unnatural levity, as if we were in the first flushed reaction of having undergone a surgical operation. Birthdays of this species have a public as well as a private phase. |
| 8906 |
It fell back upon Shakespeare. No sooner was it resolved to celebrate Shakespeare's birthday in Dullborough, than the popularity of the immortal bard became surprising. You might have supposed the first edition of his works to have been published last week, and enthusiastic Dullborough to have got half through them. |
| 8907 |
Yet I go on bearing with the enormity as if it were nothing, and I go on reading the Parliamentary Debates as if they were something, and I concern myself far more about one railway bridge across a public thoroughfare, than about a dozen generations of scrofula, ignorance, wickedness, prostitution, poverty, and felony. |
| 8908 |
I cannot remember that we ever conspired to be sleepy after dinner, or that we ever particularly wanted to be stupid, and to have flushed faces and hot beating heads, or to find blank hopelessness and obscurity this afternoon in what would become perfectly clear and bright in the freshness of to morrow morning. |
| 8909 |
Not only was there complete precision complete accord to the eye and to the ear but an alertness in the doing of the thing which deprived it, curiously, of its monotonous or mechanical character. There was perfect uniformity, and yet an individual spirit and emulation. No spectator could doubt that the boys liked it. |
| 8910 |
With non commissioned officers varying from a yard to a yard and a half high, the result could not possibly have been attained otherwise. They marched, and counter marched, and formed in line and square, and company, and single file and double file, and performed a variety of evolutions; all most admirably. |
| 8911 |
And now we stood out to sea, in a most amazing manner; the Skipper himself, the whole crew, the Uncommercial, and all hands present, implicitly believing that there was not a moment to lose, that the wind had that instant chopped round and sprung up fair, and that we were away on a voyage round the world. |
| 8912 |
The Skipper got dreadfully hoarse, but otherwise was master of the situation. The man at the wheel did wonders; all hands (except the fifer) were turned up to wear ship; and I observed the fifer, when we were at our greatest extremity, to refer to some document in his waistcoat pocket, which I conceived to be his will. |
| 8913 |
When I complimented the Skipper at parting on his exertions and those of his gallant crew, he informed me that the latter were provided for the worst, all hands being taught to swim and dive; and he added that the able seaman at the main topmast truck especially, could dive as deep as he could go high. |
| 8914 |
But since the introduction of the Short Time system it has been proved here that eighteen hours a week of book learning are more profitable than thirty six, and that the pupils are far quicker and brighter than of yore. The good influences of music on the whole body of children have likewise been surprisingly proved. |
| 8915 |
Obviously another of the immense advantages of the Short Time system to the cause of good education is the great diminution of its cost, and of the period of time over which it extends. The last is a most important consideration, as poor parents are always impatient to profit by their children's labour. |
| 8916 |
It will be objected: Firstly, that this is all very well, but special local advantages and special selection of children must be necessary to such success. Secondly, that this is all very well, but must be very expensive. Thirdly, that this is all very well, but we have no proof of the results, sir, no proof. |
| 8917 |
Down by the Docks, anybody drunk will quarrel with anybody drunk or sober, and everybody else will have a hand in it, and on the shortest notice you may revolve in a whirlpool of red shirts, shaggy beards, wild heads of hair, bare tattooed arms, Britannia's daughters, malice, mud, maundering, and madness. |
| 8918 |
Some with cabbages, some with loaves of bread, some with cheese and butter, some with milk and beer, some with boxes, beds, and bundles, some with babies nearly all with children nearly all with bran new tin cans for their daily allowance of water, uncomfortably suggestive of a tin flavour in the drink. |
| 8919 |
Perspiring landsmen, with loose papers, and with pens and inkstands, pervade it; and the general appearance of things is as if the late Mr. Amazon's funeral had just come home from the cemetery, and the disconsolate Mrs. Amazon's trustees found the affairs in great disorder, and were looking high and low for the will. |
| 8920 |
The most of these came aboard yesterday evening. They came from various parts of England in small parties that had never seen one another before. Yet they had not been a couple of hours on board, when they established their own police, made their own regulations, and set their own watches at all the hatchways. |
| 8921 |
Down, upon her breast on the planks of the deck at this woman's feet, with her head diving in under a beam of the bulwarks on that side, as an eligible place of refuge for her sheet of paper, a neat and pretty girl wrote for a good hour (she fainted at last), only rising to the surface occasionally for a dip of ink. |
| 8922 |
They knew nothing whatever of me, I believe, and my testimony to the unpretending gentleness and good nature with which they discharged their duty, may be of the greater worth. There was not the slightest flavour of the Circumlocution Office about their proceedings. The emigrants were now all on deck. |
| 8923 |
All being ready, the first group are handed on. That member of the party who is entrusted with the passenger ticket for the whole, has been warned by one of the agents to have it ready, and here it is in his hand. In every instance through the whole eight hundred, without an exception, this paper is always ready. |
| 8924 |
The faces of some of the Welsh people, among whom there were many old persons, were certainly the least intelligent. Some of these emigrants would have bungled sorely, but for the directing hand that was always ready. The intelligence here was unquestionably of a low order, and the heads were of a poor type. |
| 8925 |
To suppose the family groups of whom the majority of emigrants were composed, polygamically possessed, would be to suppose an absurdity, manifest to any one who saw the fathers and mothers. I should say (I had no means of ascertaining the fact) that most familiar kinds of handicraft trades were represented here. |
| 8926 |
Among these, City Churchyards hold a high place. Such strange churchyards hide in the City of London; churchyards sometimes so entirely detached from churches, always so pressed upon by houses; so small, so rank, so silent, so forgotten, except by the few people who ever look down into them from their smoky windows. |
| 8927 |
In an angle of the walls, what was once the tool house of the grave digger rots away, encrusted with toadstools. Pipes and spouts for carrying off the rain from the encompassing gables, broken or feloniously cut for old lead long ago, now let the rain drip and splash as it list, upon the weedy earth. |
| 8928 |
Yes, of all occupations in this world, making hay! It was a very confined patch of churchyard lying between Gracechurch street and the Tower, capable of yielding, say an apronful of hay. By what means the old old man and woman had got into it, with an almost toothless hay making rake, I could not fathom. |
| 8929 |
No open window was within view; no window at all was within view, sufficiently near the ground to have enabled their old legs to descend from it; the rusty churchyard gate was locked, the mouldy church was locked. Gravely among the graves, they made hay, all alone by themselves. They looked like Time and his wife. |
| 8930 |
Then the light passes and the colours die. Though even then, if there be room enough for me to fall back so far as that I can gaze up to the top of the Church Tower, I see the rusty vane new burnished, and seeming to look out with a joyful flash over the sea of smoke at the distant shore of country. |
| 8931 |
You do not come upon these churchyards violently; there are shapes of transition in the neighbourhood. An antiquated news shop, or barber's shop, apparently bereft of customers in the earlier days of George the Third, would warn me to look out for one, if any discoveries in this respect were left for me to make. |
| 8932 |
The old room on the ground floor where the passengers of the Highflyer used to dine, had nothing in it but a wretched show of twigs and flower pots in the broad window to hide the nakedness of the land, and in a corner little Mellows's perambulator, with even its parasol head turned despondently to the wall. |
| 8933 |
At last, I made my way back to the old London road by the further end of the allotment gardens, and consequently at a point beyond that from which I had diverged. I had to scramble through a hedge and down a steep bank, and I nearly came down a top of a little spare man who sat breaking stones by the roadside. |
| 8934 |
In London, on the contrary, the fashions descend; and you never fully know how inconvenient or ridiculous a fashion is, until you see it in its last descent. It was but the other day, on a race course, that I observed four people in a barouche deriving great entertainment from the contemplation of four people on foot. |
| 8935 |
Whatsoever fashion is set in England, is certain to descend. This is a text for a perpetual sermon on care in setting fashions. When you find a fashion low down, look back for the time (it will never be far off) when it was the fashion high up. This is the text for a perpetual sermon on social justice. |
| 8936 |
It was made clear to me by the account books, that every person employed was properly paid. My next inquiries were directed to the quality of the provisions purchased, and to the terms on which they were bought. It was made equally clear to me that the quality was the very best, and that all bills were paid weekly. |
| 8937 |
It had just struck twelve, and a quick succession of faces had already begun to appear at a little window in the wall of the partitioned space where I sat looking over the books. Within this little window, like a pay box at a theatre, a neat and brisk young woman presided to take money and issue tickets. |
| 8938 |
The room of the fourpence halfpenny banquet had, like the lower room, a counter in it, on which were ranged a great number of cold portions ready for distribution. Behind this counter, the fragrant soup was steaming in deep cans, and the best cooked of potatoes were fished out of similar receptacles. |
| 8939 |
Nothing to eat was touched with his hand. Every waitress had her own tables to attend to. As soon as she saw a new customer seat himself at one of her tables, she took from the counter all his dinner his soup, potatoes, meat, and pudding piled it up dexterously in her two hands, set it before him, and took his ticket. |
| 8940 |
Another drawback on the Whitechapel establishment, is the absence of beer. Regarded merely as a question of policy, it is very impolitic, as having a tendency to send the working men to the public house, where gin is reported to be sold. But, there is a much higher ground on which this absence of beer is objectionable. |
| 8941 |
It expresses distrust of the working man. It is a fragment of that old mantle of patronage in which so many estimable Thugs, so darkly wandering up and down the moral world, are sworn to muffle him. Good beer is a good thing for him, he says, and he likes it; the Depot could give it him good, and he now gets it bad. |
| 8942 |
It is unjust and unreasonable, also. It is unjust, because it punishes the sober man for the vice of the drunken man. It is unreasonable, because any one at all experienced in such things knows that the drunken workman does not get drunk where he goes to eat and drink, but where he goes to drink expressly to drink. |
| 8943 |
Watching these objects, I still am under no obligation to think about them, or even so much as to see them, unless it perfectly suits my humour. As little am I obliged to hear the plash and flop of the tide, the ripple at my feet, the clinking windlass afar off, or the humming steam ship paddles further away yet. |
| 8944 |
I had seen the sheaved corn carrying in the golden fields as I came down to the river; and the rosy farmer, watching his labouring men in the saddle on his cob, had told me how he had reaped his two hundred and sixty acres of long strawed corn last week, and how a better week's work he had never done in all his days. |
| 8945 |
Twelve hundred men are working at her now; twelve hundred men working on stages over her sides, over her bows, over her stern, under her keel, between her decks, down in her hold, within her and without, crawling and creeping into the finest curves of her lines wherever it is possible for men to twist. |
| 8946 |
To think that the difficulty I experience in appreciating the ship's size when I am on board, arises from her being a series of iron tanks and oaken chests, so that internally she is ever finishing and ever beginning, and half of her might be smashed, and yet the remaining half suffice and be sound. |
| 8947 |
Passing from this wonderful sight to the Ships again for my heart, as to the Yard, is where the ships are I notice certain unfinished wooden walls left seasoning on the stocks, pending the solution of the merits of the wood and iron question, and having an air of biding their time with surly confidence. |
| 8948 |
It occurs to me, as I explore her, that I would require a handsome sum of money to go aboard her, at midnight by the Dockyard bell, and stay aboard alone till morning; for surely she must be haunted by a crowd of ghosts of obstinate old martinets, mournfully flapping their cherubic epaulettes over the changed times. |
| 8949 |
The white stones of the pavement present no other trace of Achilles and his twelve hundred banging men (not one of whom strikes an attitude) than a few occasional echoes. But for a whisper in the air suggestive of sawdust and shavings, the oar making and the saws of many movements might be miles away. |
| 8950 |
Down below here, is the great reservoir of water where timber is steeped in various temperatures, as a part of its seasoning process. Above it, on a tramroad supported by pillars, is a Chinese Enchanter's Car, which fishes the logs up, when sufficiently steeped, and rolls smoothly away with them to stack them. |
| 8951 |
Its retirement is complete, and to go gliding to and fro among the stacks of timber would be a convenient kind of travelling in foreign countries among the forests of North America, the sodden Honduras swamps, the dark pine woods, the Norwegian frosts, and the tropical heats, rainy seasons, and thunderstorms. |
| 8952 |
Next, I walk among the quiet lofts of stores of sails, spars, rigging, ships' boats determined to believe that somebody in authority wears a girdle and bends beneath the weight of a massive bunch of keys, and that, when such a thing is wanted, he comes telling his keys like Blue Beard, and opens such a door. |
| 8953 |
The occasional few poor cottages and farms in this region, surely cannot afford shelter to the numbers necessary to the cultivation, albeit the work is done so very deliberately, that on one long harvest day I have seen, in twelve miles, about twice as many men and women (all told) reaping and binding. |
| 8954 |
Yet have I seen more cattle, more sheep, more pigs, and all in better case, than where there is purer French spoken, and also better ricks round swelling peg top ricks, well thatched; not a shapeless brown heap, like the toast of a Giant's toast and water, pinned to the earth with one of the skewers out of his kitchen. |
| 8955 |
Carts have I seen, and other agricultural instruments, unwieldy, dislocated, monstrous. Poplar trees by the thousand fringe the fields and fringe the end of the flat landscape, so that I feel, looking straight on before me, as if, when I pass the extremest fringe on the low horizon, I shall tumble over into space. |
| 8956 |
What shining coffee cups and saucers I might have won at the turntables, if I had had the luck! Ravishing perfumery also, and sweetmeats, I might have speculated in, or I might have fired for prizes at a multitude of little dolls in niches, and might have hit the doll of dolls, and won francs and fame. |
| 8957 |
A true Temple of Art needs nothing but seats, drapery, a small table with two moderator lamps hanging over it, and an ornamental looking glass let into the wall. Monsieur in uniform gets behind the table and surveys us with disdain, his forehead becoming diabolically intellectual under the moderators. |
| 8958 |
The bee, apparently the veritable bee of Nature, will hover in the window, and about the room. He will be with difficulty caught in the hand of Monsieur the Ventriloquist he will escape he will again hover at length he will be recaptured by Monsieur the Ventriloquist, and will be with difficulty put into a bottle. |
| 8959 |
The Face Maker then, by putting out his tongue, and wearing the wig nohow in particular, becomes the Village Idiot. The most remarkable feature in the whole of his ingenious performance, is, that whatever he does to disguise himself, has the effect of rendering him rather more like himself than he was at first. |
| 8960 |
But more was in reserve. I went by a train which was heavy with third class carriages, full of young fellows (well guarded) who had drawn unlucky numbers in the last conscription, and were on their way to a famous French garrison town where much of the raw military material is worked up into soldiery. |
| 8961 |
Once, I dwelt in an Italian city, where there dwelt with me for a while, an Englishman of an amiable nature, great enthusiasm, and no discretion. This friend discovered a desolate stranger, mourning over the unexpected death of one very dear to him, in a solitary cottage among the vineyards of an outlying village. |
| 8962 |
Concealed behind a roadside well for the irrigation of a garden, the unintelligible Upholsterer, admiring. It matters little now. Coaches of all colours are alike to poor Kindheart, and he rests far North of the little cemetery with the cypress trees, by the city walls where the Mediterranean is so beautiful. |
| 8963 |
But Flanders's uncle (who was a weak little old retail grocer) had only one idea, which was that we all wanted tea; and he handed us cups of tea all round, incessantly, whether we refused or not. There was a young nephew of Flanders's present, to whom Flanders, it was rumoured, had left nineteen guineas. |
| 8964 |
I was truly sorry for Flanders, but I knew that it was no reason why we should be trying (the women with their heads in hoods like coal scuttles with the black side outward) to keep step with a man in a scarf, carrying a thing like a mourning spy glass, which he was going to open presently and sweep the horizon with. |
| 8965 |
I knew that we should not all have been speaking in one particular key note struck by the undertaker, if we had not been making game. Even in our faces we were every one of us as like the undertaker as if we had been his own family, and I perceived that this could not have happened unless we had been making game. |
| 8966 |
I cannot say that I have ever been much edified by the custom of tying a bib and apron on the front of the house of mourning, or that I would myself particularly care to be driven to my grave in a nodding and bobbing car, like an infirm four post bedstead, by an inky fellow creature in a cocked hat. |
| 8967 |
Why should high civilisation and low savagery ever come together on the point of making them a wantonly wasteful and contemptible set of forms? Once I lost a friend by death, who had been troubled in his time by the Medicine Man and the Conjurer, and upon whose limited resources there were abundant claims. |
| 8968 |
My sense of justice demands the admission, however, that this is not quite a one sided question. If we submit ourselves meekly to the Medicine Man and the Conjurer, and are not exalted by it, the savages may retort upon us that we act more unwisely than they in other matters wherein we fail to imitate them. |
| 8969 |
A shell is not a melodious wind instrument, and it is monotonous; but it is as musical as, and not more monotonous than, my Honourable friend's own trumpet, or the trumpet that he blows so hard for the Minister. The uselessness of arguing with any supporter of a Government or of an Opposition, is well known. |
| 8970 |
There is a tendency in these pieces of architecture to shoot upward unexpectedly, like Jack's bean stalk, and to be ornate in spires of Chapels and lanterns of Halls, which might lead to the embellishment of the air with many castles of questionable beauty but for the restraining consideration of expense. |
| 8971 |
They are little, stooping, blear eyed old men of cheerful countenance, and they hobble up and down the court yard wagging their chins and talking together quite gaily. This has given offence, and has, moreover, raised the question whether they are justified in passing any other windows than their own. |
| 8972 |
In the meantime, if anything could have placed the unfortunate six old gentlemen at a greater disadvantage than that at which they chronically stood, it would have been the apparition of this Greenwich Pensioner. They were well shrunken already, but they shrunk to nothing in comparison with the Pensioner. |
| 8973 |
Nevertheless, my stray visits to Titbull's since the date of this occurrence, have confirmed me in an impression that it was a wholesome fillip. The nine ladies are smarter, both in mind and dress, than they used to be, though it must be admitted that they despise the six gentlemen to the last extent. |
| 8974 |
He never turns his liberty to any account but violence and plunder, he never did a day's work out of gaol, he never will do a day's work out of gaol. As a proved notorious Thief he is always consignable to prison for three months. When he comes out, he is surely as notorious a Thief as he was when he went in. |
| 8975 |
These classes are often disorderly and troublesome; but it is mostly among themselves, and at any rate they have their industrious avocations, they work early and late, and work hard. The generic Ruffian honourable member for what is tenderly called the Rough Element is either a Thief, or the companion of Thieves. |
| 8976 |
In all the party there obtains a certain twitching character of mouth and furtiveness of eye, that hint how the coward is lurking under the bully. The hint is quite correct, for they are a slinking sneaking set, far more prone to lie down on their backs and kick out, when in difficulty, than to make a stand for it. |
| 8977 |
The blaring use of the very worst language possible, in our public thoroughfares especially in those set apart for recreation is another disgrace to us, and another result of constabular contemplation, the like of which I have never heard in any other country to which my uncommercial travels have extended. |
| 8978 |
It was not known. Mr. Uncommercial Traveller replied that he wished it were better known, and that, if he could afford the leisure, he would use his endeavours to make it so. There was no question about it, however, he contended. Here was the clause. The clause was handed in, and more conference resulted. |
| 8979 |
If it were anything else, the results that have attended it could not possibly have come to pass. Who will say that under a good system, our streets could have got into their present state? The objection to the whole Police system, as concerning the Ruffian, may be stated, and its failure exemplified, as follows. |
| 8980 |
Equally as to the remembrances that drowsily floated by me, or by him, why ask when or where the things happened? Was it not enough that they befell at some time, somewhere? There was that assisting at the church service on board another steamship, one Sunday, in a stiff breeze. Perhaps on the passage out. |
| 8981 |
Ship rolling heavily. Pause. No minister. Rumour has related that a modest young clergyman on board has responded to the captain's request that he will officiate. Pause again, and very heavy rolling. Closed double doors suddenly burst open, and two strong stewards skate in, supporting minister between them. |
| 8982 |
Stoppage, pause, and particularly heavy rolling. Stewards watch their opportunity, and balance themselves, but cannot balance minister; who, struggling with a drooping head and a backward tendency, seems determined to return below, while they are as determined that he shall be got to the reading desk in mid saloon. |
| 8983 |
Any enormous giant at a prodigious hydropathic establishment, conscientiously undergoing the water cure in all its departments, and extremely particular about cleaning his teeth, would make those noises. Swash, splash, scrub, rub, toothbrush, bubble, swash, splash, bubble, toothbrush, splash, splash, bubble, rub. |
| 8984 |
Because we pretended not to hear it, especially at meal times, evening whist, and morning conversation on deck; but it was always among us in an under monotone, not to be drowned in pea soup, not to be shuffled with cards, not to be diverted by books, not to be knitted into any pattern, not to be walked away from. |
| 8985 |
Lamps and lanterns gleam here and there about the decks, and impeding bulks are knocked away with handspikes; and the port side bulwark, barren but a moment ago, bursts into a crop of heads of seamen, stewards, and engineers. The light begins to be gained upon, begins to be alongside, begins to be left astern. |
| 8986 |
All the while the unfortunate tender plunges high and low, and is roared at. Then the Queenstown passengers are put on board of her, with infinite plunging and roaring, and the tender gets heaved up on the sea to that surprising extent that she looks within an ace of washing aboard of us, high and dry. |
| 8987 |
The weird skeleton rattled along the streets before me, and struck fiercely; but it was never at the pains of assuming a disguise. It played on no dulcimer here, was crowned with no flowers, waved no plume, minced in no flowing robe or train, lifted no wine cup, sat at no feast, cast no dice, counted no gold. |
| 8988 |
The borders of Ratcliff and Stepney, eastward of London, and giving on the impure river, were the scene of this uncompromising dance of death, upon a drizzling November day. A squalid maze of streets, courts, and alleys of miserable houses let out in single rooms. A wilderness of dirt, rags, and hunger. |
| 8989 |
A mud desert, chiefly inhabited by a tribe from whom employment has departed, or to whom it comes but fitfully and rarely. They are not skilled mechanics in any wise. They are but labourers, dock labourers, water side labourers, coal porters, ballast heavers, such like hewers of wood and drawers of water. |
| 8990 |
She had four children; and her husband, also a water side labourer, and then out seeking work, seemed in no better case as to finding it than her father. She was English, and by nature, of a buxom figure and cheerful. Both in her poor dress and in her mother's there was an effort to keep up some appearance of neatness. |
| 8991 |
According to her calculation at the moment, deducting what her trimming cost her, she got for making a pea jacket tenpence half penny, and she could make one in something less than two days. But, you see, it come to her through two hands, and of course it didn't come through the second hand for nothing. |
| 8992 |
There was nothing else into which she could have put them. There was no crockery, or tinware, or tub, or bucket. There was an old gallipot or two, and there was a broken bottle or so, and there were some broken boxes for seats. The last small scraping of coals left was raked together in a corner of the floor. |
| 8993 |
I had missed, at the first glance, some half a pound of bread in the otherwise empty safe, an old red ragged crinoline hanging on the handle of the door by which I had entered, and certain fragments of rusty iron scattered on the floor, which looked like broken tools and a piece of stove pipe. A child stood looking on. |
| 8994 |
They can't afford to pay more rent, and so they come here at night. The rent is very hard upon us. It's rose upon us too, now, sixpence a week, on account of these new changes in the law, about the rates. We are a week behind; the landlord's been shaking and rattling at that door frightfully; he says he'll turn us out. |
| 8995 |
They remained fixed on mine, and never turned from me while I stood there. When the utterance of that plaintive sound shook the little form, the gaze still remained unchanged. I felt as though the child implored me to tell the story of the little hospital in which it was sheltered to any gentle heart I could address. |
| 8996 |
Laying my world worn hand upon the little unmarked clasped hand at the chin, I gave it a silent promise that I would do so. A gentleman and lady, a young husband and wife, have bought and fitted up this building for its present noble use, and have quietly settled themselves in it as its medical officers and directors. |
| 8997 |
Sitting at their dinner table, they could hear the cry of one of the children in pain. The lady's piano, drawing materials, books, and other such evidences of refinement are as much a part of the rough place as the iron bedsteads of the little patients. They are put to shifts for room, like passengers on board ship. |
| 8998 |
Insufficient food and unwholesome living are the main causes of disease among these small patients. So nourishment, cleanliness, and ventilation are the main remedies. Discharged patients are looked after, and invited to come and dine now and then; so are certain famishing creatures who were never patients. |
| 8999 |
It is a beautiful truth, that interest in the children and sympathy with their sorrows bind these young women to their places far more strongly than any other consideration could. The best skilled of the nurses came originally from a kindred neighbourhood, almost as poor; and she knew how much the work was needed. |
| 9000 |
In fine, for the uneatable part of this little dinner (as contradistinguished from the undrinkable) we paid only seven shillings and sixpence each. And Bullfinch and I agreed unanimously, that no such ill served, ill appointed, ill cooked, nasty little dinner could be got for the money anywhere else under the sun. |
| 9001 |
This young wretch wore buckles and powder, conducted himself with insupportable levity at the theatre, had no idea of facing a mad bull single handed (in which I think him less reprehensible, as remotely reflecting my own character), and was a frightful instance of the enervating effects of luxury upon the human race. |
| 9002 |
He would have caused that hypocritical young prig Harry to make an experiment, with the aid of a temporary building in the garden and a dummy, demonstrating that you couldn't let a choked hunchback down an Eastern chimney with a cord, and leave him upright on the hearth to terrify the sultan's purveyor. |
| 9003 |
Similarly, I should demand responsible bail and guaranty against the appearance of Mr. Barlow, before committing myself to attendance at any assemblage of my fellow creatures where a bottle of water and a note book were conspicuous objects; for in either of those associations, I should expressly expect him. |
| 9004 |
As the characters were lifelike (and consequently not improving), and as they went upon their several ways and designs without personally addressing themselves to me, I felt rather confident of coming through it without being regarded as Tommy, the more so, as we were clearly getting close to the end. |
| 9005 |
On such an occasion, it is my habit to regard my walk as my beat, and myself as a higher sort of police constable doing duty on the same. There is many a ruffian in the streets whom I mentally collar and clear out of them, who would see mighty little of London, I can tell him, if I could deal with him physically. |
| 9006 |
There seemed to be some unlucky inconsistency in the atmosphere that day; for though the proportions of St. Paul's Cathedral are very beautiful, it had an air of being somewhat out of drawing, in my eyes. I felt as though the cross were too high up, and perched upon the intervening golden ball too far away. |
| 9007 |
She is a rare spectacle in this neighbourhood. I receive intelligent information to this effect from a dog a lop sided mongrel with a foolish tail, plodding along with his tail up, and his ears pricked, and displaying an amiable interest in the ways of his fellow men, if I may be allowed the expression. |
| 9008 |
Much kind sympathy has been here since my former visit, and it is good to see the walls profusely garnished with dolls. I wonder what Poodles may think of them, as they stretch out their arms above the beds, and stare, and display their splendid dresses. Poodles has a greater interest in the patients. |
| 9009 |
I find him making the round of the beds, like a house surgeon, attended by another dog, a friend, who appears to trot about with him in the character of his pupil dresser. Poodles is anxious to make me known to a pretty little girl looking wonderfully healthy, who had had a leg taken off for cancer of the knee. |
| 9010 |
Hopping up ladders, and across planks, and on elevated perches, until I was uncertain whether to liken myself to a bird or a brick layer, I became conscious of standing on nothing particular, looking down into one of a series of large cocklofts, with the outer day peeping in through the chinks in the tiled roof above. |
| 9011 |
Against these dangers, I found good respirators provided (simply made of flannel and muslin, so as to be inexpensively renewed, and in some instances washed with scented soap), and gauntlet gloves, and loose gowns. Everywhere, there was as much fresh air as windows, well placed and opened, could possibly admit. |
| 9012 |
The oven, or stove, cold as yet, looked as high as an ordinary house, and was full of men and women on temporary footholds, briskly passing up and stowing away the dishes. The door of another oven, or stove, about to be cooled and emptied, was opened from above, for the uncommercial countenance to peer down into. |
| 9013 |
Their teapots and such things were set out on tables ready for their afternoon meal, when I saw their room; and it had a homely look. It is found that they bear the work much better than men: some few of them have been at it for years, and the great majority of those I observed were strong and active. |
| 9014 |
My intention was, to interpose, as it were, a fly leaf in the book of my life, in which nothing should be written from without for a brief season of a few weeks. But some very singular experiences recorded themselves on this same fly leaf, and I am going to relate them literally. I repeat the word: literally. |
| 9015 |
This assuming of a whole case against all fact and likelihood, struck me as particularly droll, and was an oddity of which I certainly had had no adequate experience in life until I turned that curious fly leaf. My old acquaintances the begging letter writers came out on the fly leaf, very piously indeed. |
| 9016 |
Divers wonderful medicines and machines insinuated recommendations of themselves into the fly leaf that was to have been so blank. It was specially observable that every prescriber, whether in a moral or physical direction, knew me thoroughly knew me from head to heel, in and out, through and through, upside down. |
| 9017 |
In the very crisis of these evolutions, and indeed at the trying moment when his charger's tail was in a tobacconist's shop, and his head anywhere about town, this cavalier was joined by two similar portents, who, likewise stumbling and sliding, caused him to stumble and slide the more distressingly. |
| 9018 |
Suddenly, too, a banner would shiver in the wind, and go about in the most inconvenient manner. This always happened oftenest with such gorgeous standards as those representing a gentleman in black, corpulent with tea and water, in the laudable act of summarily reforming a family, feeble and pinched with beer. |
| 9019 |
I was apprenticed to the Sea when I was twelve years old, and I have encountered a great deal of rough weather, both literal and metaphorical. It has always been my opinion since I first possessed such a thing as an opinion, that the man who knows only one subject is next tiresome to the man who knows no subject. |
| 9020 |
I might have known, from his asking me to come down and see her, what she was. I declare her to have been the completest and most exquisite Beauty that ever I set my eyes upon. We had inspected every timber in her, and had come back to the gangway to go ashore from the dock basin, when I put out my hand to my friend. |
| 9021 |
And so, in a good ship of the best build, well owned, well arranged, well officered, well manned, well found in all respects, we parted with our pilot at a quarter past four o'clock in the afternoon of the seventh of March, one thousand eight hundred and fifty one, and stood with a fair wind out to sea. |
| 9022 |
Still, he went so far as to be habitually uneasy, if the child was long on deck, out of his sight. He was always afraid of her falling overboard, or falling down a hatchway, or of a block or what not coming down upon her from the rigging in the working of the ship, or of her getting some hurt or other. |
| 9023 |
The wind still blew right astern. Though she was making great way, she was under shortened sail, and had no more than she could easily carry. All was snug, and nothing complained. There was a pretty sea running, but not a very high sea neither, nor at all a confused one. I turned in, as we seamen say, all standing. |
| 9024 |
We had a mug among us, and an iron spoon. As to provisions, there were in my boat two bags of biscuit, one piece of raw beef, one piece of raw pork, a bag of coffee, roasted but not ground (thrown in, I imagine, by mistake, for something else), two small casks of water, and about half a gallon of rum in a keg. |
| 9025 |
I was not surprised by it in the women; for all men born of women know what great qualities they will show when men will fail; but, I own I was a little surprised by it in some of the men. Among one and thirty people assembled at the best of times, there will usually, I should say, be two or three uncertain tempers. |
| 9026 |
When it happened to be long before I could catch his eye, he would go on moaning all the time in the dismallest manner; but, when our looks met, he would brighten and leave off. I almost always got the impression that he did not know what sound he had been making, but that he thought he had been humming a tune. |
| 9027 |
She sang them another, and after it had fallen dark ended with the Evening Hymn. From that time, whenever anything could be heard above the sea and wind, and while she had any voice left, nothing would serve the people but that she should sing at sunset. She always did, and always ended with the Evening Hymn. |
| 9028 |
For days past the child had been declining, and that was the great cause of his wildness. He had been over and over again shrieking out to me to give her all the remaining meat, to give her all the remaining rum, to save her at any cost, or we should all be ruined. At this time, she lay in her mother's arms at my feet. |
| 9029 |
I had watched the wasting of the little hand, and I knew it was nearly over. The old man's cries were so discordant with the mother's love and submission, that I called out to him in an angry voice, unless he held his peace on the instant, I would order him to be knocked on the head and thrown overboard. |
| 9030 |
From that time I was as well convinced as Bligh himself that there was no danger, and that this phantom, at any rate, did not haunt us. Now, it was a part of Bligh's experience that when the people in his boat were most cast down, nothing did them so much good as hearing a story told by one of their number. |
| 9031 |
We had all varieties of bad weather. We had rain, hail, snow, wind, mist, thunder and lightning. Still the boats lived through the heavy seas, and still we perishing people rose and fell with the great waves. Sixteen nights and fifteen days, twenty nights and nineteen days, twenty four nights and twenty three days. |
| 9032 |
And yet, even now, I never turned my eyes upon a waking face but it tried to brighten before mine. O, what a thing it is, in a time of danger and in the presence of death, the shining of a face upon a face! I have heard it broached that orders should be given in great new ships by electric telegraph. |
| 9033 |
I often saw her I have spoken of before, sitting beside me. I saw the Golden Mary go down, as she really had gone down, twenty times in a day. And yet the sea was mostly, to my thinking, not sea neither, but moving country and extraordinary mountainous regions, the like of which have never been beheld. |
| 9034 |
When the ship struck the Iceberg, he had run on deck leaving his shoes in his cabin. All through the voyage in the boat his feet had been unprotected; and not a soul had discovered it until he dropped! As long as he could keep his eyes open, the very look of them had cheered the men, and comforted and upheld the women. |
| 9035 |
And a breezy, goose skinned, blue nosed, red eyed, stony toed, tooth chattering place it was, to wait in, in the winter time, as Toby Veck well knew. The wind came tearing round the corner especially the east wind as if it had sallied forth, express, from the confines of the earth, to have a blow at Toby. |
| 9036 |
He could have Walked faster perhaps; most likely; but rob him of his trot, and Toby would have taken to his bed and died. It bespattered him with mud in dirty weather; it cost him a world of trouble; he could have walked with infinitely greater ease; but that was one reason for his clinging to it so tenaciously. |
| 9037 |
Bright eyes they were. Eyes that would bear a world of looking in, before their depth was fathomed. Dark eyes, that reflected back the eyes which searched them; not flashingly, or at the owner's will, but with a clear, calm, honest, patient radiance, claiming kindred with that light which Heaven called into being. |
| 9038 |
Two other gentlemen had come out with him. One was a low spirited gentleman of middle age, of a meagre habit, and a disconsolate face; who kept his hands continually in the pockets of his scanty pepper and salt trousers, very large and dog's eared from that custom; and was not particularly well brushed or washed. |
| 9039 |
He who had Toby's meat upon the fork, called to the first one by the name of Filer; and they both drew near together. Mr. Filer being exceedingly short sighted, was obliged to go so close to the remnant of Toby's dinner before he could make out what it was, that Toby's heart leaped up into his mouth. |
| 9040 |
It was a hard frost, that day. The air was bracing, crisp, and clear. The wintry sun, though powerless for warmth, looked brightly down upon the ice it was too weak to melt, and set a radiant glory there. At other times, Trotty might have learned a poor man's lesson from the wintry sun; but, he was past that, now. |
| 9041 |
Shut out from hope, high impulse, active happiness, itself, but active messenger of many joys to others, it made appeal in its decline to have its toiling days and patient hours remembered, and to die in peace. Trotty might have read a poor man's allegory in the fading year; but he was past that, now. |
| 9042 |
They have no business whatever with with themselves. If wicked and designing persons tell them otherwise, and they become impatient and discontented, and are guilty of insubordinate conduct and black hearted ingratitude; which is undoubtedly the case; I am their Friend and Father still. It is so Ordained. |
| 9043 |
And at the child's arm, clinging round its neck. Before he merged into the darkness the traveller stopped; and looking round, and seeing Trotty standing there yet, seemed undecided whether to return or go on. After doing first the one and then the other, he came back, and Trotty went half way to meet him. |
| 9044 |
It's not much of a place: only a loft; but, having a loft, I always say, is one of the great conveniences of living in a mews; and till this coach house and stable gets a better let, we live here cheap. There's plenty of sweet hay up there, belonging to a neighbour; and it's as clean as hands, and Meg, can make it. |
| 9045 |
The narrow stair was so close to the door, too, that he stumbled at the very first; and shutting the door upon himself, by striking it with his foot, and causing it to rebound back heavily, he couldn't open it again. This was another reason, however, for going on. Trotty groped his way, and went on. |
| 9046 |
But, he got to an arched window in the tower, breast high, and holding tight, looked down upon the house tops, on the smoking chimneys, on the blurr and blotch of lights (towards the place where Meg was wondering where he was and calling to him perhaps), all kneaded up together in a leaven of mist and darkness. |
| 9047 |
At first he started, thinking it was hair; then trembled at the very thought of waking the deep Bell. The Bells themselves were higher. Higher, Trotty, in his fascination, or in working out the spell upon him, groped his way. By ladders now, and toilsomely, for it was steep, and not too certain holding for the feet. |
| 9048 |
Up, up, up; and climb and clamber; up, up, up; higher, higher, higher up! Until, ascending through the floor, and pausing with his head just raised above its beams, he came among the Bells. It was barely possible to make out their great shapes in the gloom; but there they were. Shadowy, and dark, and dumb. |
| 9049 |
But, awake and standing on his feet upon the boards where he had lately lain, he saw this Goblin Sight. He saw the tower, whither his charmed footsteps had brought him, swarming with dwarf phantoms, spirits, elfin creatures of the Bells. He saw them leaping, flying, dropping, pouring from the Bells without a pause. |
| 9050 |
He saw them, of all aspects and all shapes. He saw them ugly, handsome, crippled, exquisitely formed. He saw them young, he saw them old, he saw them kind, he saw them cruel, he saw them merry, he saw them grim; he saw them dance, and heard them sing; he saw them tear their hair, and heard them howl. |
| 9051 |
He saw these creatures, not only among sleeping men but waking also, active in pursuits irreconcilable with one another, and possessing or assuming natures the most opposite. He saw one buckling on innumerable wings to increase his speed; another loading himself with chains and weights, to retard his. |
| 9052 |
He saw some putting the hands of clocks forward, some putting the hands of clocks backward, some endeavouring to stop the clock entirely. He saw them representing, here a marriage ceremony, there a funeral; in this chamber an election, in that a ball he saw, everywhere, restless and untiring motion. |
| 9053 |
The last of all was one small hunchback, who had got into an echoing corner, where he twirled and twirled, and floated by himself a long time; showing such perseverance, that at last he dwindled to a leg and even to a foot, before he finally retired; but he vanished in the end, and then the tower was silent. |
| 9054 |
Mysterious and awful figures! Resting on nothing; poised in the night air of the tower, with their draped and hooded heads merged in the dim roof; motionless and shadowy. Shadowy and dark, although he saw them by some light belonging to themselves none else was there each with its muffled hand upon its goblin mouth. |
| 9055 |
He made no effort to imprint his kisses on her face; he did not strive to clasp her to his loving heart; he knew that such endearments were, for him, no more. But, he held his trembling breath, and brushed away the blinding tears, that he might look upon her; that he might only see her. Ah! Changed. |
| 9056 |
Not Richard. No. But one whom he had thought of, and had looked for, many times. In a scantier supply of light, he might have doubted the identity of that worn man, so old, and grey, and bent; but with a blaze of lamps upon his gnarled and knotted head, he knew Will Fern as soon as he stepped forth. |
| 9057 |
But, another moment showed him that the room and all the company had vanished from his sight, and that his daughter was again before him, seated at her work. But in a poorer, meaner garret than before; and with no Lilian by her side. The frame at which she had worked, was put away upon a shelf and covered up. |
| 9058 |
The chair in which she had sat, was turned against the wall. A history was written in these little things, and in Meg's grief worn face. Oh! who could fail to read it! Meg strained her eyes upon her work until it was too dark to see the threads; and when the night closed in, she lighted her feeble candle and worked on. |
| 9059 |
Still her old father was invisible about her; looking down upon her; loving her how dearly loving her! and talking to her in a tender voice about the old times, and the Bells. Though he knew, poor Trotty, though he knew she could not hear him. A great part of the evening had worn away, when a knock came at her door. |
| 9060 |
Still she worked. She had a meagre fire, the night being very cold; and rose at intervals to mend it. The Chimes rang half past twelve while she was thus engaged; and when they ceased she heard a gentle knocking at the door. Before she could so much as wonder who was there, at that unusual hour, it opened. |
| 9061 |
Fat company, rosy cheeked company, comfortable company. They were but two, but they were red enough for ten. They sat before a bright fire, with a small low table between them; and unless the fragrance of hot tea and muffins lingered longer in that room than in most others, the table had seen service very lately. |
| 9062 |
This cosy couple (married, evidently) had made a fair division of the fire between them, and sat looking at the glowing sparks that dropped into the grate; now nodding off into a doze; now waking up again when some hot fragment, larger than the rest, came rattling down, as if the fire were coming with it. |
| 9063 |
And the gentlemen frightened her, and made her melancholy, and timid of his deserting her, and of her children coming to the gallows, and of its being wicked to be man and wife, and a good deal more of it. And in short, they lingered and lingered, and their trust in one another was broken, and so at last was the match. |
| 9064 |
He hovered round her; sat down at her feet; looked up into her face for one trace of her old self; listened for one note of her old pleasant voice. He flitted round the child: so wan, so prematurely old, so dreadful in its gravity, so plaintive in its feeble, mournful, miserable wail. He almost worshipped it. |
| 9065 |
She told no one of her extremity, and wandered abroad in the day lest she should be questioned by her only friend: for any help she received from her hands, occasioned fresh disputes between the good woman and her husband; and it was new bitterness to be the daily cause of strife and discord, where she owed so much. |
| 9066 |
He tried to touch her as she passed him, going down to its dark level: but, the wild distempered form, the fierce and terrible love, the desperation that had left all human check or hold behind, swept by him like the wind. He followed her. She paused a moment on the brink, before the dreadful plunge. |
| 9067 |
I know there is a sea of Time to rise one day, before which all who wrong us or oppress us will be swept away like leaves. I see it, on the flow! I know that we must trust and hope, and neither doubt ourselves, nor doubt the good in one another. I have learnt it from the creature dearest to my heart. |
| 9068 |
Two or three violins and a wind instrument from the Opera band reside within its precincts. Its boarding houses are musical, and the notes of pianos and harps float in the evening time round the head of the mournful statue, the guardian genius of a little wilderness of shrubs, in the centre of the square. |
| 9069 |
There, snuff and cigars, and German pipes and flutes, and violins and violoncellos, divide the supremacy between them. It is the region of song and smoke. Street bands are on their mettle in Golden Square; and itinerant glee singers quaver involuntarily as they raise their voices within its boundaries. |
| 9070 |
It was this melancholy state of things that the Company proposed to correct; firstly, by prohibiting, under heavy penalties, all private muffin trading of every description; secondly, by themselves supplying the public generally, and the poor at their own homes, with muffins of first quality at reduced prices. |
| 9071 |
Having rendered his zealous assistance towards dispatching the lunch, with all that promptitude and energy which are among the most important qualities that men of business can possess, Mr Ralph Nickleby took a cordial farewell of his fellow speculators, and bent his steps westward in unwonted good humour. |
| 9072 |
What kind of place can the quiet townspeople who see the words emblazoned, in all the legibility of gilt letters and dark shading, on the north country coaches, take Snow Hill to be? All people have some undefined and shadowy notion of a place whose name is frequently before their eyes, or often in their ears. |
| 9073 |
The little pupils having been stimulated with the remains of their breakfast, and further invigorated by sundry small cups of a curious cordial carried by Mr Squeers, which tasted very like toast and water put into a brandy bottle by mistake, went to sleep, woke, shivered, and cried, as their feelings prompted. |
| 9074 |
The night and the snow came on together, and dismal enough they were. There was no sound to be heard but the howling of the wind; for the noise of the wheels, and the tread of the horses' feet, were rendered inaudible by the thick coating of snow which covered the ground, and was fast increasing every moment. |
| 9075 |
However, a large faggot and a plentiful supply of coals being heaped upon the fire, the appearance of things was not long in mending; and, by the time they had washed off all effaceable marks of the late accident, the room was warm and light, which was a most agreeable exchange for the cold and darkness out of doors. |
| 9076 |
Even the box passenger caught the infection, and growing wonderfully deferential, immediately inquired whether there was not very good society in that neighbourhood, to which the lady replied yes, there was: in a manner which sufficiently implied that she moved at the very tiptop and summit of it all. |
| 9077 |
Infancy, childhood, the prime of life, and old age, wither as rapidly as they crowd upon each other. Think how human dust rolls onward to the tomb, and turning your faces steadily towards that goal, avoid the cloud which takes its rise among the pleasures of the world, and cheats the senses of their votaries. |
| 9078 |
The same pious care which enriched the abbey of St Mary, and left us, orphans, to its holy guardianship, directed that no constraint should be imposed upon our inclinations, but that we should be free to live according to our choice. Let us hear no more of this, we pray you. Sisters, it is nearly noon. |
| 9079 |
The memory of earthly things is charged, in after life, with bitter disappointment, affliction, death; with dreary change and wasting sorrow. The time will one day come, when a glance at those unmeaning baubles will tear open deep wounds in the hearts of some among you, and strike to your inmost souls. |
| 9080 |
Times changed. He got into debt. The Grogzwig coffers ran low, though the Swillenhausen family had looked upon them as inexhaustible; and just when the baroness was on the point of making a thirteenth addition to the family pedigree, Von Koeldwethout discovered that he had no means of replenishing them. |
| 9081 |
Mr Squeers was observed to draw the grey headed gentleman on one side, and to ask a question with great apparent interest; it bore reference to the Five Sisters of York, and was, in fact, an inquiry whether he could inform him how much per annum the Yorkshire convents got in those days with their boarders. |
| 9082 |
Supper being over, and removed by a small servant girl with a hungry eye, Mrs Squeers retired to lock it up, and also to take into safe custody the clothes of the five boys who had just arrived, and who were half way up the troublesome flight of steps which leads to death's door, in consequence of exposure to the cold. |
| 9083 |
He was preparing for bed, with something like renewed cheerfulness, when a sealed letter fell from his coat pocket. In the hurry of leaving London, it had escaped his attention, and had not occurred to him since, but it at once brought back to him the recollection of the mysterious behaviour of Newman Noggs. |
| 9084 |
A ride of two hundred and odd miles in severe weather, is one of the best softeners of a hard bed that ingenuity can devise. Perhaps it is even a sweetener of dreams, for those which hovered over the rough couch of Nicholas, and whispered their airy nothings in his ear, were of an agreeable and happy kind. |
| 9085 |
As Mrs Squeers had previously protested, however, that she was quite certain she had not got it, Smike received another box on the ear for presuming to contradict his mistress, together with a promise of a sound thrashing if he were not more respectful in future; so that he took nothing very advantageous by his motion. |
| 9086 |
Having further disposed of a slice of bread and butter, allotted to him in virtue of his office, he sat himself down, to wait for school time. He could not but observe how silent and sad the boys all seemed to be. There was none of the noise and clamour of a schoolroom; none of its boisterous play, or hearty mirth. |
| 9087 |
It was Mr Squeer's custom to call the boys together, and make a sort of report, after every half yearly visit to the metropolis, regarding the relations and friends he had seen, the news he had heard, the letters he had brought down, the bills which had been paid, the accounts which had been left unpaid, and so forth. |
| 9088 |
But, for the present, his resolve was taken, and the resolution he had formed on the preceding night remained undisturbed. He had written to his mother and sister, announcing the safe conclusion of his journey, and saying as little about Dotheboys Hall, and saying that little as cheerfully, as he possibly could. |
| 9089 |
It was matter of equal moment to Nicholas whether they were waiting for one gentleman or twenty, so he received the intelligence with perfect unconcern; and, being out of spirits, and not seeing any especial reason why he should make himself agreeable, looked out of the window and sighed involuntarily. |
| 9090 |
Nicholas stood looking on for a few seconds, rather doubtful what to do, but feeling uncertain whether the fit would end in his being embraced, or scratched, and considering that either infliction would be equally agreeable, he walked off very quietly while Miss Squeers was moaning in her pocket handkerchief. |
| 9091 |
Kate poured forth many thanks for her uncle's consideration, which Ralph received as if he had deserved them all, and they arrived without any further conversation at the dressmaker's door, which displayed a very large plate, with Madame Mantalini's name and occupation, and was approached by a handsome flight of steps. |
| 9092 |
They waited here a much longer time than was agreeable to Mr Ralph Nickleby, who eyed the gaudy frippery about him with very little concern, and was at length about to pull the bell, when a gentleman suddenly popped his head into the room, and, seeing somebody there, as suddenly popped it out again. |
| 9093 |
By the time Kate reached home, the good lady had called to mind two authentic cases of milliners who had been possessed of considerable property, though whether they had acquired it all in business, or had had a capital to start with, or had been lucky and married to advantage, she could not exactly remember. |
| 9094 |
Old, and gloomy, and black, in truth it was, and sullen and dark were the rooms, once so bustling with life and enterprise. There was a wharf behind, opening on the Thames. An empty dog kennel, some bones of animals, fragments of iron hoops, and staves of old casks, lay strewn about, but no life was stirring there. |
| 9095 |
But the notion of Ralph Nickleby having directed it to be done, tickled his fancy so much, that he could not refrain from cracking all his ten fingers in succession: at which performance Mrs Nickleby was rather startled at first, but supposing it to be in some remote manner connected with the gout, did not remark upon. |
| 9096 |
This is the grossest and wildest delusion, the completest and most signal mistake, that ever human being laboured under, or committed. I have scarcely seen the young lady half a dozen times, but if I had seen her sixty times, or am destined to see her sixty thousand, it would be, and will be, precisely the same. |
| 9097 |
She could have choked in right good earnest, at the thought of being so humbled. But, there was one thing clear in the midst of her mortification; and that was, that she hated and detested Nicholas with all the narrowness of mind and littleness of purpose worthy a descendant of the house of Squeers. |
| 9098 |
And there was one comfort too; and that was, that every hour in every day she could wound his pride, and goad him with the infliction of some slight, or insult, or deprivation, which could not but have some effect on the most insensible person, and must be acutely felt by one so sensitive as Nicholas. |
| 9099 |
And here it may be remarked, that Miss Squeers, having bestowed her affections (or whatever it might be that, in the absence of anything better, represented them) on Nicholas Nickleby, had never once seriously contemplated the possibility of his being of a different opinion from herself in the business. |
| 9100 |
Buffetings inflicted without cause, would have been equally a matter of course; for to them also he had served a long and weary apprenticeship; but it was no sooner observed that he had become attached to Nicholas, than stripes and blows, stripes and blows, morning, noon, and night, were his only portion. |
| 9101 |
Mr Squeers made a plunge into the crowd, and at one dive, caught a very little boy, habited still in his night gear, and the perplexed expression of whose countenance, as he was brought forward, seemed to intimate that he was as yet uncertain whether he was about to be punished or rewarded for the suggestion. |
| 9102 |
Having brought affairs to this happy termination, and ascertained, to his thorough satisfaction, that Squeers was only stunned, and not dead (upon which point he had had some unpleasant doubts at first), Nicholas left his family to restore him, and retired to consider what course he had better adopt. |
| 9103 |
At last, however, all the things that had to be got together were got together, and all the things that had to be got out of the way were got out of the way, and everything was ready, and the collector himself having promised to come, fortune smiled upon the occasion. The party was admirably selected. |
| 9104 |
There were, first of all, Mr Kenwigs and Mrs Kenwigs, and four olive Kenwigses who sat up to supper; firstly, because it was but right that they should have a treat on such a day; and secondly, because their going to bed, in presence of the company, would have been inconvenient, not to say improper. |
| 9105 |
The company being all ready, Miss Petowker hummed a tune, and Morleena danced a dance; having previously had the soles of her shoes chalked, with as much care as if she were going on the tight rope. It was a very beautiful figure, comprising a great deal of work for the arms, and was received with unbounded applause. |
| 9106 |
Mr Lillyvick stood higher than ever; for he had shown his power; hinted at his property and testamentary intentions; gained great credit for disinterestedness and virtue; and, in addition to all, was finally accommodated with a much larger tumbler of punch than that which Newman Noggs had so feloniously made off with. |
| 9107 |
Having received a card of reference to some person on the books, she made the usual acknowledgment, and glided away. She was neatly, but very quietly attired; so much so, indeed, that it seemed as though her dress, if it had been worn by one who imparted fewer graces of her own to it, might have looked poor and shabby. |
| 9108 |
From time to time, one man would whisper his neighbour, or a little group would whisper together, and then the whisperers would nod fiercely to each other, or give their heads a relentless shake, as if they were bent upon doing something very desperate, and were determined not to be put off, whatever happened. |
| 9109 |
The occurrences of the morning had not improved Nicholas's appetite, and, by him, the dinner remained untasted. He was sitting in a thoughtful attitude, with the plate which the poor fellow had assiduously filled with the choicest morsels, untouched, by his side, when Newman Noggs looked into the room. |
| 9110 |
I will ride him in the park before the very chariots of the rejected countesses. The demd old dowager will faint with grief and rage; the other two will say "He is married, he has made away with himself, it is a demd thing, it is all up!" They will hate each other demnebly, and wish you dead and buried. |
| 9111 |
Madame Mantalini led the way down a flight of stairs, and through a passage, to a large room at the back of the premises where were a number of young women employed in sewing, cutting out, making up, altering, and various other processes known only to those who are cunning in the arts of millinery and dressmaking. |
| 9112 |
Kate shed many bitter tears when these people were gone, and felt, for the first time, humbled by her occupation. She had, it is true, quailed at the prospect of drudgery and hard service; but she had felt no degradation in working for her bread, until she found herself exposed to insolence and pride. |
| 9113 |
A thief in fustian is a vulgar character, scarcely to be thought of by persons of refinement; but dress him in green velvet, with a high crowned hat, and change the scene of his operations, from a thickly peopled city, to a mountain road, and you shall find in him the very soul of poetry and adventure. |
| 9114 |
Poor Kate had regarded these proceedings, at first, in perfect bewilderment. She had then turned red and pale by turns, and once or twice essayed to speak; but, as the true motives of this altered behaviour developed themselves, she retired a few paces, and looked calmly on without deigning a reply. |
| 9115 |
Nevertheless, although she walked proudly to her seat, and turned her back upon the group of little satellites who clustered round their ruling planet in the remotest corner of the room, she gave way, in secret, to some such bitter tears as would have gladdened Miss Knag's inmost soul, if she could have seen them fall. |
| 9116 |
She went home to breakfast, and had scarcely caught the full flavour of her first sip of tea, when the servant announced a gentleman, whereat Miss La Creevy, at once imagining a new sitter transfixed by admiration at the street door case, was in unspeakable consternation at the presence of the tea things. |
| 9117 |
Innocent as the young man was of all wrong, every artful insinuation stung, every well considered sarcasm cut him to the quick; and when Ralph noted his pale face and quivering lip, he hugged himself to mark how well he had chosen the taunts best calculated to strike deep into a young and ardent spirit. |
| 9118 |
He had not heard anybody enter, and was unconscious of the presence of Smike, until, happening to raise his head, he saw him, standing at the upper end of the room, looking wistfully towards him. He withdrew his eyes when he saw that he was observed, and affected to be busied with some scanty preparations for dinner. |
| 9119 |
The agitation she had undergone, rendered Kate Nickleby unable to resume her duties at the dressmaker's for three days, at the expiration of which interval she betook herself at the accustomed hour, and with languid steps, to the temple of fashion where Madame Mantalini reigned paramount and supreme. |
| 9120 |
Not that they claim to be on precisely the same footing as the high folks of Belgrave Square and Grosvenor Place, but that they stand, with reference to them, rather in the light of those illegitimate children of the great who are content to boast of their connections, although their connections disavow them. |
| 9121 |
I merely mention the circumstance to show that you are no ordinary person, that there is a constant friction perpetually going on between your mind and your body; and that you must be soothed and tended. Now let me hear, dispassionately and calmly, what are this young lady's qualifications for the office. |
| 9122 |
It was dull and bare to see, but it had light and life for him; for there was at least one heart within its old walls to which insult or dishonour would bring the same blood rushing, that flowed in his own veins. He crossed the road, and raised his eyes to the window of the room where he knew his sister slept. |
| 9123 |
It was, by this time, within an hour of noon, and although a dense vapour still enveloped the city they had left, as if the very breath of its busy people hung over their schemes of gain and profit, and found greater attraction there than in the quiet region above, in the open country it was clear and fair. |
| 9124 |
Occasionally, in some low spots they came upon patches of mist which the sun had not yet driven from their strongholds; but these were soon passed, and as they laboured up the hills beyond, it was pleasant to look down, and see how the sluggish mass rolled heavily off, before the cheering influence of day. |
| 9125 |
But they were scarcely less beautiful in their slow decline, than they had been in their prime; for nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own; and from morning to night, as from the cradle to the grave, is but a succession of changes so gentle and easy, that we can scarcely mark their progress. |
| 9126 |
Eventually, however, they stumbled upon two small rooms up three pair of stairs, or rather two pair and a ladder, at a tobacconist's shop, on the Common Hard: a dirty street leading down to the dockyard. These Nicholas engaged, only too happy to have escaped any request for payment of a week's rent beforehand. |
| 9127 |
The first house to which they bent their steps, was situated in a terrace of respectable appearance. Miss Snevellicci's modest double knock was answered by a foot boy, who, in reply to her inquiry whether Mrs Curdle was at home, opened his eyes very wide, grinned very much, and said he didn't know, but he'd inquire. |
| 9128 |
The crier was sent round, in the morning, to proclaim the entertainments with the sound of bell in all the thoroughfares; and extra bills of three feet long by nine inches wide, were dispersed in all directions, flung down all the areas, thrust under all the knockers, and developed in all the shops. |
| 9129 |
Miss Bravassa's ringlets came out of curl with the heat and anxiety; even Mr Crummles himself kept peeping through the hole in the curtain, and running back, every now and then, to announce that another man had come into the pit. At last, the orchestra left off, and the curtain rose upon the new piece. |
| 9130 |
When he was hid behind the curtain in the dark, and the wicked relation poked a sharp sword in every direction, save where his legs were plainly visible, what a thrill of anxious fear ran through the house! His air, his figure, his walk, his look, everything he said or did, was the subject of commendation. |
| 9131 |
The ceremony was very quickly disposed of, and all parties present having signed the register (for which purpose, when it came to his turn, Mr Crummles carefully wiped and put on an immense pair of spectacles), they went back to breakfast in high spirits. And here they found Nicholas awaiting their arrival. |
| 9132 |
Thus they continued to ask each other who called so loud, over and over again; and when Smike had that by heart Nicholas went to another sentence, and then to two at a time, and then to three, and so on, until at midnight poor Smike found to his unspeakable joy that he really began to remember something about the text. |
| 9133 |
As soon as they were dressed, and at every interval when he was not upon the stage, Nicholas renewed his instructions. They prospered well. The Romeo was received with hearty plaudits and unbounded favour, and Smike was pronounced unanimously, alike by audience and actors, the very prince and prodigy of Apothecaries. |
| 9134 |
Unassisted by Ralph, however, with whom he had held no communication since their angry parting on that occasion, all his efforts were wholly unavailing, and he had therefore arrived at the determination of communicating to the young lord the substance of the admission he had gleaned from that worthy. |
| 9135 |
Mrs Nickleby had scarcely been put away behind the curtain of the box in an armchair, when Sir Mulberry and Lord Verisopht arrived, arrayed from the crowns of their heads to the tips of their gloves, and from the tips of their gloves to the toes of their boots, in the most elegant and costly manner. |
| 9136 |
But, although she was in no small degree delighted by this discovery, which reflected so much credit on her own quickness of perception, it did not lessen her motherly anxiety in Kate's behalf; and accordingly, with a vast quantity of trepidation, she quitted her own box to hasten into that of Mrs Wititterly. |
| 9137 |
Here was a state of things! Mrs Wititterly was declared, upon the testimony of two veracious and competent witnesses, to be the very picture of a countess! This was one of the consequences of getting into good society. Why, she might have moved among grovelling people for twenty years, and never heard of it. |
| 9138 |
Many protestations of friendship, and expressions anticipative of the pleasure which must inevitably flow from so happy an acquaintance, were exchanged, and the visitors departed, with renewed assurances that at all times and seasons the mansion of the Wititterlys would be honoured by receiving them beneath its roof. |
| 9139 |
If the mistress put such a construction upon the behaviour of her new friends, what could the companion urge against them? If they accustomed themselves to very little restraint before the lady of the house, with how much more freedom could they address her paid dependent! Nor was even this the worst. |
| 9140 |
The consequence was, that Kate had the double mortification of being an indispensable part of the circle when Sir Mulberry and his friends were there, and of being exposed, on that very account, to all Mrs Wititterly's ill humours and caprices when they were gone. She became utterly and completely miserable. |
| 9141 |
In all other respects you are comfortably bestowed. It's not much to bear. If this young lord does dog your footsteps, and whisper his drivelling inanities in your ears, what of it? It's a dishonourable passion. So be it; it won't last long. Some other novelty will spring up one day, and you will be released. |
| 9142 |
On the present occasion he wore it very much on one side, with the back part forward in consequence of its being the least rusty; round his neck he wore a flaming red worsted comforter, whereof the straggling ends peeped out beneath his threadbare Newmarket coat, which was very tight and buttoned all the way up. |
| 9143 |
And with the assistance of this lady, and the accomplished Mrs Grudden (who had quite a genius for making out bills, being a great hand at throwing in the notes of admiration, and knowing from long experience exactly where the largest capitals ought to go), he seriously applied himself to the composition of the poster. |
| 9144 |
There were not wanting matters of conversation when they reached the street, for it turned out that Miss Snevellicci had a small basket to carry home, and Miss Ledrook a small bandbox, both containing such minor articles of theatrical costume as the lady performers usually carried to and fro every evening. |
| 9145 |
In short, he was the hero of the feast; and when the table was cleared and something warm introduced, Miss Snevellicci's papa got up and proposed his health in a speech containing such affecting allusions to his coming departure, that Miss Snevellicci wept, and was compelled to retire into the bedroom. |
| 9146 |
When everybody was dressed and the curtain went up, the excitement occasioned by the presence of the London manager increased a thousand fold. Everybody happened to know that the London manager had come down specially to witness his or her own performance, and all were in a flutter of anxiety and expectation. |
| 9147 |
Nor was this all, for the elder Master Crummles was going through a similar ceremony with Smike; while Master Percy Crummles, with a very little second hand camlet cloak, worn theatrically over his left shoulder, stood by, in the attitude of an attendant officer, waiting to convey the two victims to the scaffold. |
| 9148 |
The lookers on laughed very heartily, and as it was as well to put a good face upon the matter, Nicholas laughed too when he had succeeded in disengaging himself; and rescuing the astonished Smike, climbed up to the coach roof after him, and kissed his hand in honour of the absent Mrs Crummles as they rolled away. |
| 9149 |
They spoke in whispers, now and then bursting into a loud laugh, but Nicholas could catch no repetition of the words, nor anything sounding at all like the words, which had attracted his attention. At length the two resumed their seats, and more wine being ordered, the party grew louder in their mirth. |
| 9150 |
Nicholas was in a perfect agony as the two elderly gentlemen opposite, rose one after the other and went away, lest they should be the means of his losing one word of what was said. But the conversation was suspended as they withdrew, and resumed with even greater freedom when they had left the room. |
| 9151 |
What he heard need not be repeated here. Suffice it that as the wine went round he heard enough to acquaint him with the characters and designs of those whose conversation he overhead; to possess him with the full extent of Ralph's villainy, and the real reason of his own presence being required in London. |
| 9152 |
It was broken in the struggle; Nicholas gained the heavy handle, and with it laid open one side of his antagonist's face from the eye to the lip. He saw the gash; knew that the mare had darted off at a wild mad gallop; a hundred lights danced in his eyes, and he felt himself flung violently upon the ground. |
| 9153 |
Rightly judging that under such circumstances it would be madness to follow, he turned down a bye street in search of the nearest coach stand, finding after a minute or two that he was reeling like a drunken man, and aware for the first time of a stream of blood that was trickling down his face and breast. |
| 9154 |
He had promised to be back in an hour; and his prolonged absence began to excite considerable alarm in the minds of both, as was abundantly testified by the blank looks they cast upon each other at every new disappointment. At length a coach was heard to stop, and Newman ran out to light Nicholas up the stairs. |
| 9155 |
Nicholas nodded his head from time to time, as it corroborated the particulars he had already gleaned; but he fixed his eyes upon the fire, and did not look round once. His recital ended, Newman insisted upon his young friend's stripping off his coat and allowing whatever injuries he had received to be properly tended. |
| 9156 |
The remark may possibly apply to injuries received in other kinds of violent excitement: certain it is, that although Nicholas experienced some pain on first awakening next morning, he sprung out of bed as the clock struck seven, with very little difficulty, and was soon as much on the alert as if nothing had occurred. |
| 9157 |
By this young gentleman he was informed that Miss Nickleby was then taking her morning's walk in the gardens before the house. On the question being propounded whether he could go and find her, the page desponded and thought not; but being stimulated with a shilling, the page grew sanguine and thought he could. |
| 9158 |
To the city they went accordingly, with all the speed the hackney coach could make; and as the horses happened to live at Whitechapel and to be in the habit of taking their breakfast there, when they breakfasted at all, they performed the journey with greater expedition than could reasonably have been expected. |
| 9159 |
Nicholas sent Kate upstairs a few minutes before him, that his unlooked for appearance might not alarm his mother, and when the way had been paved, presented himself with much duty and affection. Newman had not been idle, for there was a little cart at the door, and the effects were hurrying out already. |
| 9160 |
Having seen everything safely out, discharged the servant, and locked the door, Nicholas jumped into a cabriolet and drove to a bye place near Golden Square where he had appointed to meet Noggs; and so quickly had everything been done, that it was barely half past nine when he reached the place of meeting. |
| 9161 |
Then he held it at arm's length as if to take in the whole at one delicious survey, and then he rubbed his hands in a perfect ecstasy with his commission. He reached the office, hung his hat on its accustomed peg, laid the letter and key upon the desk, and waited impatiently until Ralph Nickleby should appear. |
| 9162 |
As I have no doubt that he came straight here, Mr Nickleby, to convert the papers I have spoken of, into money, and as you have assisted us very often before, and are very much connected with us in this kind of matters, I wish you to know the determination at which his conduct has compelled me to arrive. |
| 9163 |
The result was, that without quite giving up the allowance question, Madame Mantalini, postponed its further consideration; and Ralph saw, clearly enough, that Mr Mantalini had gained a fresh lease of his easy life, and that, for some time longer at all events, his degradation and downfall were postponed. |
| 9164 |
However, he managed to say, in a broken voice, that Nicholas was his only friend, and that he would lay down his life to help him; and Kate, although she was so kind and considerate, seemed to be so wholly unconscious of his distress and embarrassment, that he recovered almost immediately and felt quite at home. |
| 9165 |
Grafted upon the quaintness and oddity of his appearance, was something so indescribably engaging, and bespeaking so much worth, and there were so many little lights hovering about the corners of his mouth and eyes, that it was not a mere amusement, but a positive pleasure and delight to look at him. |
| 9166 |
Among men who have any sound and sterling qualities, there is nothing so contagious as pure openness of heart. Nicholas took the infection instantly, and ran over the main points of his little history without reserve: merely suppressing names, and touching as lightly as possible upon his uncle's treatment of Kate. |
| 9167 |
The first floor, the second floor, and the third floor, had each a bell of its own. As to the attics, no one ever called on them; if anybody wanted the parlours, they were close at hand, and all he had to do was to walk straight into them; while the kitchen had a separate entrance down the area steps. |
| 9168 |
He was a stout bluff looking gentleman, with no shirt collar to speak of, and a beard that had been growing since yesterday morning; for Dr Lumbey was popular, and the neighbourhood was prolific; and there had been no less than three other knockers muffled, one after the other within the last forty eight hours. |
| 9169 |
The matrons dropped off one by one, with the exception of six or eight particular friends, who had determined to stop all night; the lights in the houses gradually disappeared; the last bulletin was issued that Mrs Kenwigs was as well as could be expected; and the whole family were left to their repose. |
| 9170 |
The summer's sun holds it in some respect, and while he darts his cheerful rays sparingly into the square, keeps his fiery heat and glare for noisier and less imposing precincts. It is so quiet, that you can almost hear the ticking of your own watch when you stop to cool in its refreshing atmosphere. |
| 9171 |
Tim Linkinwater, give me your snuff box as a remembrance to brother Charles and myself of an attached and faithful rascal, and take that, in exchange, as a feeble mark of our respect and esteem, and don't open it until you go to bed, and never say another word upon the subject, or I'll kill the blackbird. |
| 9172 |
Quite unconscious of the demonstrations of their amorous neighbour, or their effects upon the susceptible bosom of her mama, Kate Nickleby had, by this time, begun to enjoy a settled feeling of tranquillity and happiness, to which, even in occasional and transitory glimpses, she had long been a stranger. |
| 9173 |
Sir Mulberry won every game; and when his companion threw down the cards, and refused to play any longer, thrust forth his wasted arm and caught up the stakes with a boastful oath, and the same hoarse laugh, though considerably lowered in tone, that had resounded in Ralph Nickleby's dining room, months before. |
| 9174 |
Smike knew that voice too well. He cast his despairing eyes downward towards the form from which it had proceeded, and, shuddering from head to foot, looked round. Mr Squeers had hooked him in the coat collar with the handle of his umbrella, and was hanging on at the other end with all his might and main. |
| 9175 |
The result proved her to be perfectly correct for, while they were all sitting in Mr Snawley's parlour that night, and just as it was beginning to get dusk, John Browdie was taken so ill, and seized with such an alarming dizziness in the head, that the whole company were thrown into the utmost consternation. |
| 9176 |
All was still and silent. A glare of light in the distance, casting a warm glow upon the sky, marked where the huge city lay. Solitary fields, divided by hedges and ditches, through many of which he had crashed and scrambled in his flight, skirted the road, both by the way he had come and upon the opposite side. |
| 9177 |
All that evening, Newman had been hunting and searching in byways and corners for the very person who now knocked at his door, while Nicholas had been pursuing the same inquiry in other directions. He was sitting, with a melancholy air, at his poor supper, when Smike's timorous and uncertain knock reached his ears. |
| 9178 |
He can't leave his bed now, so they have moved it close beside the window, and there he lies, all day: now looking at the sky, and now at his flowers, which he still makes shift to trim and water, with his own thin hands. At night, when he sees my candle, he draws back his curtain, and leaves it so, till I am in bed. |
| 9179 |
He had abundance of time to ruminate on this discovery, for Tim Linkinwater was absent during the greater part of an hour, during the whole of which time Nicholas thought of nothing but the young lady, and her exceeding beauty, and what could possibly have brought her there, and why they made such a mystery of it. |
| 9180 |
Nothing transpired, however, to confirm this suspicion, and Tim could not be entrapped into any confession or admission tending to support it in the smallest degree. Mystery and disappointment are not absolutely indispensable to the growth of love, but they are, very often, its powerful auxiliaries. |
| 9181 |
Indeed, divers servant girls who came to draw water, and sundry little boys who stopped to drink at the ladle, were almost scared out of their senses, by the apparition of Newman Noggs looking stealthily round the pump, with nothing of him visible but his face, and that wearing the expression of a meditative Ogre. |
| 9182 |
Punctual to her time, the messenger came again, and, after an interview of rather longer duration than usual, departed. Newman had made two appointments with Nicholas: one for the next evening, conditional on his success: and one the next night following, which was to be kept under all circumstances. |
| 9183 |
John Browdie was striding in the same direction when Mrs Browdie turned pale, and, leaning back in her chair, requested him with a faint voice to take notice, that if he ran into any danger it was her intention to fall into hysterics immediately, and that the consequences might be more serious than he thought for. |
| 9184 |
John looked rather disconcerted by this intelligence, though there was a lurking grin on his face at the same time; but, being quite unable to keep out of the fray, he compromised the matter by tucking his wife's arm under his own, and, thus accompanied, following Nicholas downstairs with all speed. |
| 9185 |
There were not many subjects of dispute which at that moment could have come home to his own breast more powerfully, for having the unknown uppermost in his thoughts, it naturally occurred to him that he would have done just the same if any audacious gossiper durst have presumed in his hearing to speak lightly of her. |
| 9186 |
There was undoubted selfishness in all this, and yet Nicholas was of a most free and generous nature, with as few mean or sordid thoughts, perhaps, as ever fell to the lot of any man; and there is no reason to suppose that, being in love, he felt and thought differently from other people in the like sublime condition. |
| 9187 |
Tomorrow is Sunday. I shall make bold to come out at teatime, and take the chance of finding you at home; if you are not, you know, or the ladies should feel a delicacy in being intruded on, and would rather not be known to me just now, why I can come again another time, any other time would do for me. |
| 9188 |
Meeting Ralph's eye, however, he suddenly recalled his wandering fingers, and rubbed his own red nose with a vehemence quite astonishing. Bestowing no further notice upon his eccentric follower than a threatening look, and an admonition to be careful and make no mistake, Ralph took his hat and gloves, and walked out. |
| 9189 |
Mark that. I didn't forget that old sore, trust me. Partly in remembrance of that, and partly in the hope of making money someday by the scheme, I took advantage of my position about you, and possessed myself of a hold upon you, which you would give half of all you have to know, and never can know but through me. |
| 9190 |
Whatever you gleaned, or heard, or saw, when you served me, the world knows and magnifies already. You could tell it nothing that would surprise it, unless, indeed, it redounded to my credit or honour, and then it would scout you for a liar. And yet I don't find business slack, or clients scrupulous. |
| 9191 |
This done, he made divers ungainly movements in his chair, and singling out one particular fly on the ceiling from the other flies there asleep, fixed his eyes upon him, and began to roar a meek sentiment (supposed to be uttered by a gentle swain fast pining away with love and despair) in a voice of thunder. |
| 9192 |
Squeers had actually begun to haul him out, when Nicholas (who, until then, had been evidently undecided how to act) took him by the collar, and shaking him so that such teeth as he had, chattered in his head, politely escorted him to the room door, and thrusting him into the passage, shut it upon him. |
| 9193 |
These must be brought down, sir, lowered, crushed, as they shall be soon. The protracted and wearing anxiety and expense of the law in its most oppressive form, its torture from hour to hour, its weary days and sleepless nights, with these I'll prove you, and break your haughty spirit, strong as you deem it now. |
| 9194 |
If her father were dead, nothing could be easier, for then she should share and cheer the happiest home that brother Ned and I could have, as if she were our child or sister. But he is still alive. Nobody can help him; that has been tried a thousand times; he was not abandoned by all without good cause, I know. |
| 9195 |
He was scarce fifty, perhaps, but so emaciated as to appear much older. His features presented the remains of a handsome countenance, but one in which the embers of strong and impetuous passions were easier to be traced than any expression which would have rendered a far plainer face much more prepossessing. |
| 9196 |
He heard a light footstep above him as he descended the stairs, and looking round saw that the young lady was standing there, and glancing timidly towards him, seemed to hesitate whether she should call him back or no. The best way of settling the question was to turn back at once, which Nicholas did. |
| 9197 |
And, thirdly, old Arthur premised that the girl was a delicate and beautiful creature, and that he had really a hankering to have her for his wife. To this Ralph deigned no other rejoinder than a harsh smile, and a glance at the shrivelled old creature before him, which were, however, sufficiently expressive. |
| 9198 |
That's very little, because you have the ripe lips, and the clustering hair, and what not, all to yourself. For the third and last article, I require that you execute a bond to me, this day, binding yourself in the payment of these two sums, before noon of the day of your marriage with Madeline Bray. |
| 9199 |
It would be a poor compliment to Nicholas's better nature, and one which he was very far from deserving, to insinuate that the solution, and such a solution, of the mystery which had seemed to surround Madeline Bray, when he was ignorant even of her name, had damped his ardour or cooled the fervour of his admiration. |
| 9200 |
It was no complaint or murmur on the part of the poor fellow himself that thus disturbed them. Ever eager to be employed in such slight services as he could render, and always anxious to repay his benefactors with cheerful and happy looks, less friendly eyes might have seen in him no cause for any misgiving. |
| 9201 |
This hope his mother and sister shared with him; and as the object of their joint solicitude seemed to have no uneasiness or despondency for himself, but each day answered with a quiet smile that he felt better than he had upon the day before, their fears abated, and the general happiness was by degrees restored. |
| 9202 |
It happened, too, that the instant the old gentleman saw her, he stopped short, skipped suddenly on his feet, and fell to kissing his hand violently: a change of demeanour which almost terrified the little portrait painter out of her senses, and caused her to retreat behind Tim Linkinwater with the utmost expedition. |
| 9203 |
The little race course at Hampton was in the full tide and height of its gaiety; the day as dazzling as day could be; the sun high in the cloudless sky, and shining in its fullest splendour. Every gaudy colour that fluttered in the air from carriage seat and garish tent top, shone out in its gaudiest hues. |
| 9204 |
God send that old nursery tales were true, and that gypsies stole such children by the score! The great race of the day had just been run; and the close lines of people, on either side of the course, suddenly breaking up and pouring into it, imparted a new liveliness to the scene, which was again all busy movement. |
| 9205 |
Fitted up with three tables for the purposes of play, and crowded with players and lookers on, it was, although the largest place of the kind upon the course, intensely hot, notwithstanding that a portion of the canvas roof was rolled back to admit more air, and there were two doors for a free passage in and out. |
| 9206 |
There were two persons present, however, who, as peculiarly good specimens of a class, deserve a passing notice. Of these, one was a man of six or eight and fifty, who sat on a chair near one of the entrances of the booth, with his hands folded on the top of his stick, and his chin appearing above them. |
| 9207 |
He exhibited no indication of weariness, nor, to a casual observer, of interest either. There he sat, quite still and collected. Sometimes, but very rarely, he nodded to some passing face, or beckoned to a waiter to obey a call from one of the tables. The next instant he subsided into his old state. |
| 9208 |
And so, in truth, it was. But there was not a face that passed in or out, which this man failed to see; not a gesture at any one of the three tables that was lost upon him; not a word, spoken by the bankers, but reached his ear; not a winner or loser he could not have marked. And he was the proprietor of the place. |
| 9209 |
He knew that the moment he became violent, the young man would become violent too. He had, many times, been enabled to strengthen his influence, when any circumstance had occurred to weaken it, by adopting this cool and laconic style; and he trusted to it now, with very little doubt of its entire success. |
| 9210 |
Thus they rejoined their friends: each with causes of dislike against the other rankling in his breast: and the young man haunted, besides, with thoughts of the vindictive retaliation which was threatened against Nicholas, and the determination to prevent it by some strong step, if possible. But this was not all. |
| 9211 |
By degrees, he grew more angry, and was exasperated by jests and familiarities which, a few hours before, would have been a source of amusement to him. This did not serve him; for, at such bantering or retort as suited the company, he was no match for Sir Mulberry. Still, no violent rupture took place. |
| 9212 |
It was nearly midnight when they rushed out, wild, burning with wine, their blood boiling, and their brains on fire, to the gaming table. Here, they encountered another party, mad like themselves. The excitement of play, hot rooms, and glaring lights was not calculated to allay the fever of the time. |
| 9213 |
In that giddy whirl of noise and confusion, the men were delirious. Who thought of money, ruin, or the morrow, in the savage intoxication of the moment? More wine was called for, glass after glass was drained, their parched and scalding mouths were cracked with thirst. Down poured the wine like oil on blazing fire. |
| 9214 |
Now, the noise of the wheels resolved itself into some wild tune in which he could recognise scraps of airs he knew; now, there was nothing in his ears but a stunning and bewildering sound, like rushing water. But his companion rallied him on being so silent, and they talked and laughed boisterously. |
| 9215 |
The ground was measured, some usual forms gone through, the two principals were placed front to front at the distance agreed upon, and Sir Mulberry turned his face towards his young adversary for the first time. He was very pale, his eyes were bloodshot, his dress disordered, and his hair dishevelled. |
| 9216 |
For the face, it expressed nothing but violent and evil passions. He shaded his eyes with his hand; grazed at his opponent, steadfastly, for a few moments; and, then taking the weapon which was tendered to him, bent his eyes upon that, and looked up no more until the word was given, when he instantly fired. |
| 9217 |
Elbow chairs there were, but they looked uneasy in their minds, cocked their arms suspiciously and timidly, and kept upon their guard. Others, were fantastically grim and gaunt, as having drawn themselves up to their utmost height, and put on their fiercest looks to stare all comers out of countenance. |
| 9218 |
This occupation was, to take down from the shelves of a worm eaten wardrobe a quantity of frouzy garments, one by one; to subject each to a careful and minute inspection by holding it up against the light, and after folding it with great exactness, to lay it on one or other of two little heaps beside him. |
| 9219 |
For Newman Noggs was proud in his way, and could not bear to appear as his friend, before the brothers Cheeryble, in the shabby and degraded state to which he was reduced. He had not occupied this position many minutes, when he was rejoiced to see Nicholas approaching, and darted out from his ambuscade to meet him. |
| 9220 |
Every hope connected with her that he had suffered himself to form, or had entertained unconsciously, seemed to fall at his feet, withered and dead. Every charm with which his memory or imagination had surrounded her, presented itself before him, only to heighten his anguish and add new bitterness to his despair. |
| 9221 |
Newman wondered very much what could have occasioned this altered behaviour on the part of the collector; but, philosophically reflecting that he would most likely know, sooner or later, and that he could perfectly afford to wait, he was very little disturbed by the singularity of the old gentleman's deportment. |
| 9222 |
And Mr and Mrs Kenwigs both said, with strong feelings and tears of sympathy, that everything happened for the best; and conjured the good collector not to give way to unavailing grief, but to seek consolation in the society of those affectionate relations whose arms and hearts were ever open to him. |
| 9223 |
As the traveller sees farthest by day, and becomes aware of rugged mountains and trackless plains which the friendly darkness had shrouded from his sight and mind together, so, the wayfarer in the toilsome path of human life sees, with each returning sun, some new obstacle to surmount, some new height to be attained. |
| 9224 |
Gride, whose spirits and courage had gradually failed him more and more as they approached nearer and nearer to the house, was utterly dismayed and cowed by the mournful silence which pervaded it. The face of the poor servant girl, the only person they saw, was disfigured with tears and want of sleep. |
| 9225 |
Ralph was thinking, with a sneer upon his lips, on the altered manner of Bray that day, and how soon their fellowship in a bad design had lowered his pride and established a familiarity between them, when his attentive ear caught the rustling of a female dress upon the stairs, and the footstep of a man. |
| 9226 |
I myself, avowing to her father from whom I come and by whom I am commissioned, will render it an act of greater baseness, meanness, and cruelty in him if he still dares to force this marriage on. Here I wait to see him and his daughter. For this I came and brought my sister even into your presence. |
| 9227 |
To this, Mrs Nickleby only replied that she durst say she was very stupid, indeed she had no doubt she was, for her own children almost as much as told her so, every day of her life; to be sure she was a little older than they, and perhaps some foolish people might think she ought reasonably to know best. |
| 9228 |
When she had made Nicholas thoroughly comfortable with these and other inspiriting remarks, she would discourse at length on the arduous duties she had performed that day; and, sometimes, be moved to tears in wondering how, if anything were to happen to herself, the family would ever get on without her. |
| 9229 |
Extensive was the artillery, heavy and light, which Mrs Nickleby brought into play for the furtherance of these great schemes; various and opposite the means which she employed to bring about the end she had in view. At one time, she was all cordiality and ease; at another, all stiffness and frigidity. |
| 9230 |
There are a great many things you might do; such as taking a walk in the garden sometimes, or sitting upstairs in your own room for a little while, or making believe to fall asleep occasionally, or pretending that you recollected some business, and going out for an hour or so, and taking Mr Smike with you. |
| 9231 |
This was a very wise resolution, but he was prevented from putting it in practice by a new source of anxiety and uneasiness. Smike became alarmingly ill; so reduced and exhausted that he could scarcely move from room to room without assistance; and so worn and emaciated, that it was painful to look upon him. |
| 9232 |
That part of Devonshire in which Nicholas had been himself bred was named as the most favourable spot; but this advice was cautiously coupled with the information, that whoever accompanied him thither must be prepared for the worst; for every token of rapid consumption had appeared, and he might never return alive. |
| 9233 |
After looking doubtfully at Ralph when the man asked where he was to drive, and finding that he remained silent, and expressed no wish upon the subject, Arthur mentioned his own house, and thither they proceeded. On their way, Ralph sat in the furthest corner with folded arms, and uttered not a word. |
| 9234 |
While I ground, and pinched, and used these needy borrowers for my pleasure and profit, what smooth tongued speeches, and courteous looks, and civil letters, they would have given me! The cant of the lying world is, that men like me compass our riches by dissimulation and treachery: by fawning, cringing, and stooping. |
| 9235 |
He's out of everybody's depth, he is. He's what you may call a rasper, is Nickleby. To see how sly and cunning he grubbed on, day after day, a worming and plodding and tracing and turning and twining of hisself about, till he found out where this precious Mrs Peg was hid, and cleared the ground for me to work upon. |
| 9236 |
Still, one hundred pound is five boys, and five boys takes a whole year to pay one hundred pounds, and there's their keep to be substracted, besides. There's nothing lost, neither, by one's being here; because the boys' money comes in just the same as if I was at home, and Mrs Squeers she keeps them in order. |
| 9237 |
What this purpose was soon appeared; for, after a few turns about the room to steady himself, he took the bottle under his arm and the glass in his hand, and blowing out the candle as if he purposed being gone some time, stole out upon the staircase, and creeping softly to a door opposite his own, tapped gently at it. |
| 9238 |
If the old woman had not been very deaf, she must have heard, when she last went to the door, the breathing of two persons close behind it: and if those two persons had been unacquainted with her infirmity, they must probably have chosen that moment either for presenting themselves or taking to flight. |
| 9239 |
As they stole farther and farther in by slight and scarcely perceptible degrees, and with such caution that they scarcely seemed to breathe, the old hag and Squeers little dreaming of any such invasion, and utterly unconscious of there being any soul near but themselves, were busily occupied with their tasks. |
| 9240 |
By night and day, at all times and seasons: always watchful, attentive, and solicitous, and never varying in the discharge of his self imposed duty to one so friendless and helpless as he whose sands of life were now fast running out and dwindling rapidly away: he was ever at his side. He never left him. |
| 9241 |
Once, Kate was lost, and after an hour of fruitless search, they found her, fast asleep, under that tree which shades my father's grave. He was very fond of her, and said when he took her up in his arms, still sleeping, that whenever he died he would wish to be buried where his dear little child had laid her head. |
| 9242 |
There was an old couch in the house, which was his favourite resting place by day; and when the sun shone, and the weather was warm, Nicholas had this wheeled into a little orchard which was close at hand, and his charge being well wrapped up and carried out to it, they used to sit there sometimes for hours together. |
| 9243 |
Disturbed by a thousand fears and surmises, and bent upon ascertaining whether Squeers had any suspicion of Snawley, or was, in any way, a party to this altered behaviour, Ralph determined to hazard the extreme step of inquiring for him at the Lambeth lodging, and having an interview with him even there. |
| 9244 |
He wrote a few words in pencil on a card, and having thrust it under the door was going away, when a noise above, as though a window sash were stealthily raised, caught his ear, and looking up he could just discern the face of Gride himself, cautiously peering over the house parapet from the window of the garret. |
| 9245 |
But, justice must take its course against the parties implicated in the plot against this poor, unoffending, injured lad. It is not in my power, or in the power of my brother Ned, to save you from the consequences. The utmost we can do is, to warn you in time, and to give you an opportunity of escaping them. |
| 9246 |
Instead of going home, Ralph threw himself into the first street cabriolet he could find, and, directing the driver towards the police office of the district in which Mr Squeers's misfortunes had occurred, alighted at a short distance from it, and, discharging the man, went the rest of his way thither on foot. |
| 9247 |
As you have been found in company with this woman; as you were detected in possession of this document; as you were engaged with her in fraudulently destroying others, and can give no satisfactory account of yourself; I shall remand you for a week, in order that inquiries may be made, and evidence got. |
| 9248 |
You shall have an action for false imprisonment, and make a profit of this, yet. We will devise a story for you that should carry you through twenty times such a trivial scrape as this; and if they want security in a thousand pounds for your reappearance in case you should be called upon, you shall have it. |
| 9249 |
Being interrupted, at this point, by the arrival of the coach and an attendant who was to bear him company, he perched his hat with great dignity on the top of the handkerchief that bound his head; and, thrusting one hand in his pocket, and taking the attendant's arm with the other, suffered himself to be led forth. |
| 9250 |
Then, he sat down by the light of a single candle, and began to think, for the first time, on all that had taken place that day. He had neither eaten nor drunk since last night, and, in addition to the anxiety of mind he had undergone, had been travelling about, from place to place almost incessantly, for many hours. |
| 9251 |
Arrived at their place of destination, Ralph followed his conductor into the house, and into a room where the two brothers were. He was so astounded, not to say awed, by something of a mute compassion for himself which was visible in their manner and in that of the old clerk, that he could scarcely speak. |
| 9252 |
The brother would give no consent that the sister didn't buy, and pay for handsomely; Mr Nickleby would consent to no such sacrifice; and so they went on, keeping their marriage secret, and waiting for him to break his neck or die of a fever. He did neither, and meanwhile the result of this private marriage was a son. |
| 9253 |
I have been away nearly eight years. Directly I came home again, I travelled down into Yorkshire, and, skulking in the village of an evening time, made inquiries about the boys at the school, and found that this one, whom I had placed there, had run away with a young man bearing the name of his own father. |
| 9254 |
This confession can bring nothing upon me but new suffering and punishment; but I make it, and will abide by it whatever comes. I have been made the instrument of working out this dreadful retribution upon the head of a man who, in the hot pursuit of his bad ends, has persecuted and hunted down his own child to death. |
| 9255 |
I have determined to remove this weight from my mind. I doubt whether I have not done wrong, even now; and today I will, without reserve or equivocation, disclose my real reasons to Mr Cherryble, and implore him to take immediate measures for removing this young lady to the shelter of some other roof. |
| 9256 |
When you first took me into your confidence, and dispatched me on those missions to Miss Bray, I should have told you that I had seen her long before; that her beauty had made an impression upon me which I could not efface; and that I had fruitlessly endeavoured to trace her, and become acquainted with her history. |
| 9257 |
He could not tell how he came to recollect it now, when he had so often passed and never thought about him, or how it was that he felt an interest in the circumstance; but he did both; and stopping, and clasping the iron railings with his hands, looked eagerly in, wondering which might be his grave. |
| 9258 |
While he was thus engaged, there came towards him, with noise of shouts and singing, some fellows full of drink, followed by others, who were remonstrating with them and urging them to go home in quiet. They were in high good humour; and one of them, a little, weazen, hump backed man, began to dance. |
| 9259 |
This feeling became so strong at last, that when he reached his own door, he could hardly make up his mind to turn the key and open it. When he had done that, and gone into the passage, he felt as though to shut it again would be to shut out the world. But he let it go, and it closed with a loud noise. |
| 9260 |
How very dreary, cold, and still it was! Shivering from head to foot, he made his way upstairs into the room where he had been last disturbed. He had made a kind of compact with himself that he would not think of what had happened until he got home. He was at home now, and suffered himself to consider it. |
| 9261 |
The weakened glare of the lights in the street below, shining through the window which had no blind or curtain to intercept it, was enough to show the character of the room, though not sufficient fully to reveal the various articles of lumber, old corded trunks and broken furniture, which were scattered about. |
| 9262 |
Ring merrily for births that make expectants writhe, and marriages that are made in hell, and toll ruefully for the dead whose shoes are worn already! Call men to prayers who are godly because not found out, and ring chimes for the coming in of every year that brings this cursed world nearer to its end. |
| 9263 |
The old butler received them with profound respect and many smiles, and ushered them into the drawing room, where they were received by the brothers with so much cordiality and kindness that Mrs Nickleby was quite in a flutter, and had scarcely presence of mind enough, even to patronise Miss La Creevy. |
| 9264 |
Kate was still more affected by the reception: for, knowing that the brothers were acquainted with all that had passed between her and Frank, she felt her position a most delicate and trying one, and was trembling on the arm of Nicholas, when Mr Charles took her in his, and led her to another part of the room. |
| 9265 |
It would appear that this gentleman, angry with her (his only relation) because she would not put herself under his protection, and detach herself from the society of her father, in compliance with his repeated overtures, made a will leaving this property (which was all he possessed) to a charitable institution. |
| 9266 |
Give me your hand, sir; it is occupied by you, and worthily and naturally. This fortune is destined to be yours, but you have a greater fortune in her, sir, than you would have in money were it forty times told. She chooses you, Mr Nickleby. She chooses as we, her dearest friends, would have her choose. |
| 9267 |
At one time, honest John groaned in sympathy, and at another roared with joy; at one time he vowed to go up to London on purpose to get a sight of the brothers Cheeryble; and, at another, swore that Tim Linkinwater should receive such a ham by coach, and carriage free, as mortal knife had never carved. |
| 9268 |
John cantered away, and arriving at Dotheboys Hall, tied his horse to a gate and made his way to the schoolroom door, which he found locked on the inside. A tremendous noise and riot arose from within, and, applying his eye to a convenient crevice in the wall, he did not remain long in ignorance of its meaning. |
| 9269 |
One had a dead bird in a little cage; he had wandered nearly twenty miles, and when his poor favourite died, lost courage, and lay down beside him. Another was discovered in a yard hard by the school, sleeping with a dog, who bit at those who came to remove him, and licked the sleeping child's pale face. |
| 9270 |
There was one grey haired, quiet, harmless gentleman, who, winter and summer, lived in a little cottage hard by Nicholas's house, and, when he was not there, assumed the superintendence of affairs. His chief pleasure and delight was in the children, with whom he was a child himself, and master of the revels. |
| 9271 |
Through all the spring and summertime, garlands of fresh flowers, wreathed by infant hands, rested on the stone; and, when the children came to change them lest they should wither and be pleasant to him no longer, their eyes filled with tears, and they spoke low and softly of their poor dead cousin. |
| 9272 |
Through the ragged window curtain, the light of early days steals in from a miserable court. He lies, dressed, across a large unseemly bed, upon a bedstead that has indeed given way under the weight upon it. Lying, also dressed and also across the bed, not longwise, are a Chinaman, a Lascar, and a haggard woman. |
| 9273 |
He rises unsteadily from the bed, lays the pipe upon the hearth stone, draws back the ragged curtain, and looks with repugnance at his three companions. He notices that the woman has opium smoked herself into a strange likeness of the Chinaman. His form of cheek, eye, and temple, and his colour, are repeated in her. |
| 9274 |
The bells are going for daily vesper service, and he must needs attend it, one would say, from his haste to reach the open Cathedral door. The choir are getting on their sullied white robes, in a hurry, when he arrives among them, gets on his own robe, and falls into the procession filing in to service. |
| 9275 |
The echoes of my own voice among the arches seem to mock me with my daily drudging round. No wretched monk who droned his life away in that gloomy place, before me, can have been more tired of it than I am. He could take for relief (and did take) to carving demons out of the stalls and seats and desks. |
| 9276 |
I shall then go engineering into the East, and Pussy with me. And although we have our little tiffs now, arising out of a certain unavoidable flatness that attends our love making, owing to its end being all settled beforehand, still I have no doubt of our getting on capitally then, when it's done and can't be helped. |
| 9277 |
Let it stand in these pages as Cloisterham. It was once possibly known to the Druids by another name, and certainly to the Romans by another, and to the Saxons by another, and to the Normans by another; and a name more or less in the course of many centuries can be of little moment to its dusty chronicles. |
| 9278 |
The world did have it that she showed a passion for attending my sales, when they took place on half holidays, or in vacation time. The world did put it about, that she admired my style. The world did notice that as time flowed by, my style became traceable in the dictation exercises of Miss Brobity's pupils. |
| 9279 |
His nephew lies asleep, calm and untroubled. John Jasper stands looking down upon him, his unlighted pipe in his hand, for some time, with a fixed and deep attention. Then, hushing his footsteps, he passes to his own room, lights his pipe, and delivers himself to the Spectres it invokes at midnight. |
| 9280 |
A fresh and healthy portrait the looking glass presented of the Reverend Septimus, feinting and dodging with the utmost artfulness, and hitting out from the shoulder with the utmost straightness, while his radiant features teemed with innocence, and soft hearted benevolence beamed from his boxing gloves. |
| 9281 |
There is nothing disinterested in the notion, because we cannot be at our ease with them unless they are at their ease with us. Now, Jasper's nephew is down here at present; and like takes to like, and youth takes to youth. He is a cordial young fellow, and we will have him to meet the brother and sister at dinner. |
| 9282 |
Mr. Sapsea said more; he said there never should be. And yet, marvellous to consider, it has come to pass, in these days, that Express Trains don't think Cloisterham worth stopping at, but yell and whirl through it on their larger errands, casting the dust off their wheels as a testimony against its insignificance. |
| 9283 |
You were to abolish military force, but you were first to bring all commanding officers who had done their duty, to trial by court martial for that offence, and shoot them. You were to abolish war, but were to make converts by making war upon them, and charging them with loving war as the apple of their eye. |
| 9284 |
You were to have no capital punishment, but were first to sweep off the face of the earth all legislators, jurists, and judges, who were of the contrary opinion. You were to have universal concord, and were to get it by eliminating all the people who wouldn't, or conscientiously couldn't, be concordant. |
| 9285 |
I take it we were seven years old when we first decamped; but I remember, when I lost the pocket knife with which she was to have cut her hair short, how desperately she tried to tear it out, or bite it off. I have nothing further to say, sir, except that I hope you will bear with me and make allowance for me. |
| 9286 |
When I sing, he never moves his eyes from my lips. When he corrects me, and strikes a note, or a chord, or plays a passage, he himself is in the sounds, whispering that he pursues me as a lover, and commanding me to keep his secret. I avoid his eyes, but he forces me to see them without looking at them. |
| 9287 |
I don't like this. I have overheard high words between you two. Remember, my dear boy, you are almost in the position of host to night. You belong, as it were, to the place, and in a manner represent it towards a stranger. Mr. Neville is a stranger, and you should respect the obligations of hospitality. |
| 9288 |
He has an impression upon him that he has lost hold of his temper; feels that Edwin Drood's coolness, so far from being infectious, makes him red hot. Mr. Jasper, still walking in the centre, hand to shoulder on either side, beautifully turns the Refrain of a drinking song, and they all go up to his rooms. |
| 9289 |
The fatal accident had happened at a party of pleasure. Every fold and colour in the pretty summer dress, and even the long wet hair, with scattered petals of ruined flowers still clinging to it, as the dead young figure, in its sad, sad beauty lay upon the bed, were fixed indelibly in Rosa's recollection. |
| 9290 |
Mr. Grewgious had been well selected for his trust, as a man of incorruptible integrity, but certainly for no other appropriate quality discernible on the surface. He was an arid, sandy man, who, if he had been put into a grinding mill, looked as if he would have ground immediately into high dried snuff. |
| 9291 |
I was the only offspring of parents far advanced in life, and I half believe I was born advanced in life myself. No personality is intended towards the name you will so soon change, when I remark that while the general growth of people seem to have come into existence, buds, I seem to have come into existence a chip. |
| 9292 |
Respecting your inheritance, I think you know all. It is an annuity of two hundred and fifty pounds. The savings upon that annuity, and some other items to your credit, all duly carried to account, with vouchers, will place you in possession of a lump sum of money, rather exceeding Seventeen Hundred Pounds. |
| 9293 |
Nay, the very possibility of contradiction or disproof, however remote, communicates to this feminine judgment from the first, in nine cases out of ten, the weakness attendant on the testimony of an interested witness; so personally and strongly does the fair diviner connect herself with her divination. |
| 9294 |
It was a most wonderful closet, worthy of Cloisterham and of Minor Canon Corner. Above it, a portrait of Handel in a flowing wig beamed down at the spectator, with a knowing air of being up to the contents of the closet, and a musical air of intending to combine all its harmonies in one delicious fugue. |
| 9295 |
Moreover, it is monstrous that you should take upon yourself to be the young lady's champion against her chosen husband. Besides, you have seen them only once. The young lady has become your sister's friend; and I wonder that your sister, even on her behalf, has not checked you in this irrational and culpable fancy. |
| 9296 |
This feud between you and young Drood must not go on. I cannot permit it to go on any longer, knowing what I now know from you, and you living under my roof. Whatever prejudiced and unauthorised constructions your blind and envious wrath may put upon his character, it is a frank, good natured character. |
| 9297 |
This condition fulfilled, you will pledge me the honour of a Christian gentleman that the quarrel is for ever at an end on your side. What may be in your heart when you give him your hand, can only be known to the Searcher of all hearts; but it will never go well with you, if there be any treachery there. |
| 9298 |
Miss Helena, you and your brother are twin children. You came into this world with the same dispositions, and you passed your younger days together surrounded by the same adverse circumstances. What you have overcome in yourself, can you not overcome in him? You see the rock that lies in his course. |
| 9299 |
I want to ask you to do me the great favour and service of interposing with your nephew (I have already interposed with Mr. Neville), and getting him to write you a short note, in his lively way, saying that he is willing to shake hands. I know what a good natured fellow he is, and what influence you have with him. |
| 9300 |
She was wooed, not won, and they went their several ways. But an Arbitration being blown towards him by some unaccountable wind, and he gaining great credit in it as one indefatigable in seeking out right and doing right, a pretty fat Receivership was next blown into his pocket by a wind more traceable to its source. |
| 9301 |
The flying waiter, who had brought everything on his shoulders, laid the cloth with amazing rapidity and dexterity; while the immovable waiter, who had brought nothing, found fault with him. The flying waiter then highly polished all the glasses he had brought, and the immovable waiter looked through them. |
| 9302 |
If he has any distinguishing appellation of fondness for her, it is reserved for her, and is not for common ears. A name that it would be a privilege to call her by, being alone with her own bright self, it would be a liberty, a coldness, an insensibility, almost a breach of good faith, to flaunt elsewhere. |
| 9303 |
Can there be any sympathetic reason crouching darkly within him? Repairing to Durdles's unfinished house, or hole in the city wall, and seeing a light within it, he softly picks his course among the gravestones, monuments, and stony lumber of the yard, already touched here and there, sidewise, by the rising moon. |
| 9304 |
The two journeymen have left their two great saws sticking in their blocks of stone; and two skeleton journeymen out of the Dance of Death might be grinning in the shadow of their sheltering sentry boxes, about to slash away at cutting out the gravestones of the next two people destined to die in Cloisterham. |
| 9305 |
The odour from the wicker bottle (which has somehow passed into Durdles's keeping) soon intimates that the cork has been taken out; but this is not ascertainable through the sense of sight, since neither can descry the other. And yet, in talking, they turn to one another, as though their faces could commune together. |
| 9306 |
He dreams that the footsteps die away into distance of time and of space, and that something touches him, and that something falls from his hand. Then something clinks and gropes about, and he dreams that he is alone for so long a time, that the lanes of light take new directions as the moon advances in her course. |
| 9307 |
From horizon to zenith all was couleur de rose, for all was redolent of our relations and friends. Might we find them prospering as we expected; might they find us prospering as they expected! Ladies, we would now, with our love to one another, wish one another good bye, and happiness, until we met again. |
| 9308 |
He must either give the ring to Rosa, or he must take it back. Once put into this narrowed way of action, it was curious that he began to consider Rosa's claims upon him more unselfishly than he had ever considered them before, and began to be less sure of himself than he had ever been in all his easy going days. |
| 9309 |
And yet there was one reservation on each side; on hers, that she intended through her guardian to withdraw herself immediately from the tuition of her music master; on his, that he did already entertain some wandering speculations whether it might ever come to pass that he would know more of Miss Landless. |
| 9310 |
A few strange faces in the streets; a few other faces, half strange and half familiar, once the faces of Cloisterham children, now the faces of men and women who come back from the outer world at long intervals to find the city wonderfully shrunken in size, as if it had not washed by any means well in the meanwhile. |
| 9311 |
He then sets himself to clearing his table, to arranging his books, and to tearing up and burning his stray papers. He makes a clean sweep of all untidy accumulations, puts all his drawers in order, and leaves no note or scrap of paper undestroyed, save such memoranda as bear directly on his studies. |
| 9312 |
This knapsack is new, and he bought it in the High Street yesterday. He also purchased, at the same time and at the same place, a heavy walking stick; strong in the handle for the grip of the hand, and iron shod. He tries this, swings it, poises it, and lays it by, with the knapsack, on a window seat. |
| 9313 |
I have put this very gently to Mr. Crisparkle, for you know his self denying ways; but still I have put it. What I have laid much greater stress upon at the same time is, that I am engaged in a miserable struggle with myself, and that a little change and absence may enable me to come through it the better. |
| 9314 |
Farther, I really do feel hopeful of bracing exercise and wholesome fatigue. You know that Mr. Crisparkle allows such things their full weight in the preservation of his own sound mind in his own sound body, and that his just spirit is not likely to maintain one set of natural laws for himself and another for me. |
| 9315 |
She does not immediately enter, when they have parted, but remains looking after him along the street. Twice he passes the gatehouse, reluctant to enter. At length, the Cathedral clock chiming one quarter, with a rapid turn he hurries in. And so he goes up the postern stair. Edwin Drood passes a solitary day. |
| 9316 |
That was a curious look of Rosa's when they parted at the gate. Did it mean that she saw below the surface of his thoughts, and down into their twilight depths? Scarcely that, for it was a look of astonished and keen inquiry. He decides that he cannot understand it, though it was remarkably expressive. |
| 9317 |
Still, it holds to him, as many things much better worth remembering never did. He has another mile or so, to linger out before the dinner hour; and, when he walks over the bridge and by the river, the woman's words are in the rising wind, in the angry sky, in the troubled water, in the flickering lights. |
| 9318 |
And so he goes up the postern stair. John Jasper passes a more agreeable and cheerful day than either of his guests. Having no music lessons to give in the holiday season, his time is his own, but for the Cathedral services. He is early among the shopkeepers, ordering little table luxuries that his nephew likes. |
| 9319 |
The mere mechanism of his throat is a little tender, for he wears, both with his singing robe and with his ordinary dress, a large black scarf of strong close woven silk, slung loosely round his neck. But his composure is so noticeable, that Mr. Crisparkle speaks of it as they come out from Vespers. |
| 9320 |
The trees themselves so toss and creak, as this tangible part of the darkness madly whirls about, that they seem in peril of being torn out of the earth: while ever and again a crack, and a rushing fall, denote that some large branch has yielded to the storm. Not such power of wind has blown for many a winter night. |
| 9321 |
But their manner was very curious. Only four of them passed. Other four slackened speed, and loitered as intending to follow him when he should go on. The remainder of the party (half a dozen perhaps) turned, and went back at a great rate. He looked at the four behind him, and he looked at the four before him. |
| 9322 |
The four in advance went on, constantly looking back; the four in the rear came closing up. When they all ranged out from the narrow track upon the open slope of the heath, and this order was maintained, let him diverge as he would to either side, there was no longer room to doubt that he was beset by these fellows. |
| 9323 |
Setting his watches for that night again, so that vigilant eyes should be kept on every change of tide, he went home exhausted. Unkempt and disordered, bedaubed with mud that had dried upon him, and with much of his clothing torn to rags, he had but just dropped into his easy chair, when Mr. Grewgious stood before him. |
| 9324 |
But now that I know what you have told me, is there no little chink through which day pierces? Supposing him to have disappeared of his own act, is not his disappearance more accountable and less cruel? The fact of his having just parted from your ward, is in itself a sort of reason for his going away. |
| 9325 |
He was among the truest of men; but he had been balancing in his mind, much to its distress, whether his volunteering to tell these two fragments of truth, at this time, would not be tantamount to a piecing together of falsehood in the place of truth. However, here was a model before him. He hesitated no longer. |
| 9326 |
Knowing very well that the mystery with which his mind was occupied, might of itself give the place this haunted air, he strained those hawk's eyes of his for the correction of his sight. He got closer to the Weir, and peered at its well known posts and timbers. Nothing in the least unusual was remotely shadowed forth. |
| 9327 |
But he resolved that he would come back early in the morning. The Weir ran through his broken sleep, all night, and he was back again at sunrise. It was a bright frosty morning. The whole composition before him, when he stood where he had stood last night, was clearly discernible in its minutest details. |
| 9328 |
He turned his back upon the Weir, and looked far away at the sky, and at the earth, and then looked again at that one spot. It caught his sight again immediately, and he concentrated his vision upon it. He could not lose it now, though it was but such a speck in the landscape. It fascinated his sight. |
| 9329 |
If he had been murdered, and so artfully disfigured, or concealed, or both, as that the murderer hoped identification to be impossible, except from something that he wore, assuredly the murderer would seek to remove from the body the most lasting, the best known, and the most easily recognisable, things upon it. |
| 9330 |
Even had it not been so, the dear old china shepherdess would have worried herself to death with fears for her son, and with general trepidation occasioned by their having such an inmate. Even had that not been so, the authority to which the Minor Canon deferred officially, would have settled the point. |
| 9331 |
The discovery of the watch and shirt pin convinces me that he was murdered that night, and that his jewellery was taken from him to prevent identification by its means. All the delusive hopes I had founded on his separation from his betrothed wife, I give to the winds. They perish before this fatal discovery. |
| 9332 |
Preparations were in progress for a moral little Mill somewhere on the rural circuit, and other Professors were backing this or that Heavy Weight as good for such or such speech making hits, so very much after the manner of the sporting publicans, that the intended Resolutions might have been Rounds. |
| 9333 |
Thirdly, their fighting code stood in great need of revision, as empowering them not only to bore their man to the ropes, but to bore him to the confines of distraction; also to hit him when he was down, hit him anywhere and anyhow, kick him, stamp upon him, gouge him, and maul him behind his back without mercy. |
| 9334 |
My late wards being now of age, and I being released from a trust which I cannot contemplate without a thrill of horror, there are the accounts which you have undertaken to accept on their behalf, and there is a statement of the balance which you have undertaken to receive, and which you cannot receive too soon. |
| 9335 |
There was no more self assertion in the Minor Canon than in the schoolboy who had stood in the breezy playing fields keeping a wicket. He was simply and staunchly true to his duty alike in the large case and in the small. So all true souls ever are. So every true soul ever was, ever is, and ever will be. |
| 9336 |
They violate equally the justice that should belong to Christians, and the restraints that should belong to gentlemen. You assume a great crime to have been committed by one whom I, acquainted with the attendant circumstances, and having numerous reasons on my side, devoutly believe to be innocent of it. |
| 9337 |
The rooms were sparely furnished, but with good store of books. Everything expressed the abode of a poor student. That Mr. Crisparkle had been either chooser, lender, or donor of the books, or that he combined the three characters, might have been easily seen in the friendly beam of his eyes upon them as he entered. |
| 9338 |
If you had gone through those Cloisterham streets as I did; if you had seen, as I did, those averted eyes, and the better sort of people silently giving me too much room to pass, that I might not touch them or come near them, you wouldn't think it quite unreasonable that I cannot go about in the daylight. |
| 9339 |
He found that if Mr. and Mrs. Tope, living overhead, used for their own egress and ingress a little side stair that came plump into the Precincts by a door opening outward, to the surprise and inconvenience of a limited public of pedestrians in a narrow way, he would be alone, as in a separate residence. |
| 9340 |
He agreed, therefore, to take the lodging then and there, and money down, possession to be had next evening, on condition that reference was permitted him to Mr. Jasper as occupying the gatehouse, of which on the other side of the gateway, the Verger's hole in the wall was an appanage or subsidiary part. |
| 9341 |
Possessed by a kind of desperation, she adds in the next breath, that she will come to Mr. Jasper in the garden. She shudders at the thought of being shut up with him in the house; but many of its windows command the garden, and she can be seen as well as heard there, and can shriek in the free air and run away. |
| 9342 |
Such is the wild idea that flutters through her mind. She has never seen him since the fatal night, except when she was questioned before the Mayor, and then he was present in gloomy watchfulness, as representing his lost nephew and burning to avenge him. She hangs her garden hat on her arm, and goes out. |
| 9343 |
That is an inexpiable offence in my eyes. The same Mr. Crisparkle knows under my hand that I have devoted myself to the murderer's discovery and destruction, be he whom he might, and that I determined to discuss the mystery with no one until I should hold the clue in which to entangle the murderer as in a net. |
| 9344 |
Circumstances may accumulate so strongly even against an innocent man, that directed, sharpened, and pointed, they may slay him. One wanting link discovered by perseverance against a guilty man, proves his guilt, however slight its evidence before, and he dies. Young Landless stands in deadly peril either way. |
| 9345 |
But where could she take refuge, and how could she go? She had never breathed her dread of him to any one but Helena. If she went to Helena, and told her what had passed, that very act might bring down the irreparable mischief that he threatened he had the power, and that she knew he had the will, to do. |
| 9346 |
The more fearful he appeared to her excited memory and imagination, the more alarming her responsibility appeared; seeing that a slight mistake on her part, either in action or delay, might let his malevolence loose on Helena's brother. Rosa's mind throughout the last six months had been stormily confused. |
| 9347 |
Would he have done that, with that violence of passion, if they were a pretence? Would he have ranged them with his desolate heart and soul, his wasted life, his peace and his despair? The very first sacrifice that he represented himself as making for her, was his fidelity to his dear boy after death. |
| 9348 |
The assurance she had given her odious suitor was strictly true, though it would have been better (she considered now) if she could have restrained herself from so giving it. Afraid of him as the bright and delicate little creature was, her spirit swelled at the thought of his knowing it from her own lips. |
| 9349 |
Mr. Grewgious, after several times running out, and in again, to mention such supplementary items as marmalade, eggs, watercresses, salted fish, and frizzled ham, ran across to Furnival's without his hat, to give his various directions. And soon afterwards they were realised in practice, and the board was spread. |
| 9350 |
I mean, that he feels the degradation. There are some other geniuses that Mr. Bazzard has become acquainted with, who have also written tragedies, which likewise nobody will on any account whatever hear of bringing out, and these choice spirits dedicate their plays to one another in a highly panegyrical manner. |
| 9351 |
When one is in a difficulty or at a loss, one never knows in what direction a way out may chance to open. It is a business principle of mine, in such a case, not to close up any direction, but to keep an eye on every direction that may present itself. I could relate an anecdote in point, but that it would be premature. |
| 9352 |
Everything belonging to Mr. Tartar had quarters of its own assigned to it: his maps and charts had their quarters; his books had theirs; his brushes had theirs; his boots had theirs; his clothes had theirs; his case bottles had theirs; his telescopes and other instruments had theirs. Everything was readily accessible. |
| 9353 |
Not to mention that they're getting out of season and very dear, it really strikes to my heart to see you have a duck; for the breast, which is the only delicate cuts in a duck, always goes in a direction which I cannot imagine where, and your own plate comes down so miserably skin and bony! Try again, Miss. |
| 9354 |
Jasper as the denouncer and pursuer of Neville Landless, and Mr. Crisparkle as his consistent advocate and protector, must at least have stood sufficiently in opposition to have speculated with keen interest on the steadiness and next direction of the other's designs. But neither ever broached the theme. |
| 9355 |
Constantly exercising an Art which brought him into mechanical harmony with others, and which could not have been pursued unless he and they had been in the nicest mechanical relations and unison, it is curious to consider that the spirit of the man was in moral accordance or interchange with nothing around him. |
| 9356 |
With a repetition of her cat like action she slightly stirs his body again, and listens; stirs again, and listens; whispers to it, and listens. Finding it past all rousing for the time, she slowly gets upon her feet, with an air of disappointment, and flicks the face with the back of her hand in turning from it. |
| 9357 |
He comes forth again at noon, having changed his dress, but carrying nothing in his hand, and having nothing carried for him. He is not going back into the country, therefore, just yet. She follows him a little way, hesitates, instantaneously turns confidently, and goes straight into the house he has quitted. |
| 9358 |
Mr. Datchery receives the communication with a well satisfied though pondering face, and breaks up the conference. Returning to his quaint lodging, and sitting long over the supper of bread and cheese and salad and ale which Mrs. Tope has left prepared for him, he still sits when his supper is finished. |
| 9359 |
Comes Mr. Tope with his large keys, and yawningly unlocks and sets open. Come Mrs. Tope and attendant sweeping sprites. Come, in due time, organist and bellows boy, peeping down from the red curtains in the loft, fearlessly flapping dust from books up at that remote elevation, and whisking it from stops and pedals. |
| 9360 |
And at that moment, outside the grated door of the Choir, having eluded the vigilance of Mr. Tope by shifty resources in which he is an adept, Deputy peeps, sharp eyed, through the bars, and stares astounded from the threatener to the threatened. The service comes to an end, and the servitors disperse to breakfast. |
| 9361 |
Yes; that was to say, he had enough responsibility to bear; but exactness and watchfulness were what was required of him, and of actual work manual labour he had next to none. To change that signal, to trim those lights, and to turn this iron handle now and then, was all he had to do under that head. |
| 9362 |
He had been, when young (if I could believe it, sitting in that hut, he scarcely could), a student of natural philosophy, and had attended lectures; but he had run wild, misused his opportunities, gone down, and never risen again. He had no complaint to offer about that. He had made his bed, and he lay upon it. |
| 9363 |
All that I have here condensed he said in a quiet manner, with his grave dark regards divided between me and the fire. He threw in the word, "Sir," from time to time, and especially when he referred to his youth, as though to request me to understand that he claimed to be nothing but what I found him. |
| 9364 |
Once he had to stand without the door, and display a flag as a train passed, and make some verbal communication to the driver. In the discharge of his duties, I observed him to be remarkably exact and vigilant, breaking off his discourse at a syllable, and remaining silent until what he had to do was done. |
| 9365 |
He shut off, and put his brake on, but the train drifted past here a hundred and fifty yards or more. I ran after it, and, as I went along, heard terrible screams and cries. A beautiful young lady had died instantaneously in one of the compartments, and was brought in here, and laid down on this floor between us. |
| 9366 |
Next evening was a lovely evening, and I walked out early to enjoy it. The sun was not yet quite down when I traversed the field path near the top of the deep cutting. I would extend my walk for an hour, I said to myself, half an hour on and half an hour back, and it would then be time to go to my signal man's box. |
| 9367 |
It looked no bigger than a bed. With an irresistible sense that something was wrong, with a flashing self reproachful fear that fatal mischief had come of my leaving the man there, and causing no one to be sent to overlook or correct what he did, I descended the notched path with all the speed I could make. |
| 9368 |
No man in England knew his work better. But somehow he was not clear of the outer rail. It was just at broad day. He had struck the light, and had the lamp in his hand. As the engine came out of the tunnel, his back was towards her, and she cut him down. That man drove her, and was showing how it happened. |
| 9369 |
I will not say that everything was utterly commonplace, because I doubt if anything can be that, except to utterly commonplace people and there my vanity steps in; but, I will take it on myself to say that anybody might see the house as I saw it, any fine autumn morning. The manner of my lighting on it was this. |
| 9370 |
It had appeared to me that these aggravating notes related to the jolts and bumps of the carriage, and I should have resigned myself to his taking them, under a general supposition that he was in the civil engineering way of life, if he had not sat staring straight over my head whenever he listened. |
| 9371 |
Moreover, I once saw the apparition of my father, at this hour. He was alive and well, and nothing ever came of it, but I saw him in the daylight, sitting with his back towards me, on a seat that stood beside my bed. His head was resting on his hand, and whether he was slumbering or grieving, I could not discern. |
| 9372 |
The papering of one side of the room had dropped down bodily, with fragments of plaster adhering to it, and almost blocked up the door. It appeared that Master B., in his spiritual condition, always made a point of pulling the paper down. Neither the landlord nor Ikey could suggest why he made such a fool of himself. |
| 9373 |
It was moderately well furnished, but sparely. Some of the furniture say, a third was as old as the house; the rest was of various periods within the last half century. I was referred to a corn chandler in the market place of the county town to treat for the house. I went that day, and I took it for six months. |
| 9374 |
Streaker, the housemaid, too, had an attribute of a most discomfiting nature. I am unable to say whether she was of an usually lymphatic temperament, or what else was the matter with her, but this young woman became a mere Distillery for the production of the largest and most transparent tears I ever met with. |
| 9375 |
If Cook or Streaker went overhead after dark, we knew we should presently hear a bump on the ceiling; and this took place so constantly, that it was as if a fighting man were engaged to go about the house, administering a touch of his art which I believe is called The Auctioneer, to every domestic he met with. |
| 9376 |
Neither had Bottles ever taken the least notice of any of our many uproars. An imperturbable and speechless man, he had sat at his supper, with Streaker present in a swoon, and the Odd Girl marble, and had only put another potato in his cheek, or profited by the general misery to help himself to beefsteak pie. |
| 9377 |
It occurring to me as not improbable that Turk howled in the house at night, partly because he wanted to get out of it, I stationed him in his kennel outside, but unchained; and I seriously warned the village that any man who came in his way must not expect to leave him without a rip in his own throat. |
| 9378 |
He is gray now, but as handsome as he was a quarter of a century ago nay, handsomer. A portly, cheery, well built figure of a broad shouldered man, with a frank smile, a brilliant dark eye, and a rich dark eyebrow. I remember those under darker hair, and they look all the better for their silver setting. |
| 9379 |
He had also volunteered to bring with him one "Nat Beaver," an old comrade of his, captain of a merchantman. Mr. Beaver, with a thick set wooden face and figure, and apparently as hard as a block all over, proved to be an intelligent man, with a world of watery experiences in him, and great practical knowledge. |
| 9380 |
Another night, they cut a sobbing and gulping water pipe away. Another night, they found out something else. On several occasions, they both, in the coolest manner, simultaneously dropped out of their respective bedroom windows, hand over hand by their counterpanes, to "overhaul" something mysterious in the garden. |
| 9381 |
Although naturally much affected by these remarkable visitations, I determined to keep my secret, until the time agreed upon for the present general disclosure. Agitated by a multitude of curious thoughts, I retired to my room, that night, prepared to encounter some new experience of a spectral character. |
| 9382 |
He wore a frill round his neck. His right hand (which I distinctly noticed to be inky) was laid upon his stomach; connecting this action with some feeble pimples on his countenance, and his general air of nausea, I concluded this ghost to be the ghost of a boy who had habitually taken a great deal too much medicine. |
| 9383 |
I represented to him that probably that boy never did, within human experience, come out well, when discovered. I urged that I myself had, in later life, turned up several boys whom I went to school with, and none of them had at all answered. I expressed my humble belief that that boy never did answer. |
| 9384 |
Confident that I speak the truth and shall be believed, I declare without hesitation that I followed the ghost, in the first instance on a broom stick, and afterwards on a rocking horse. The very smell of the animal's paint especially when I brought it out, by making him warm I am ready to swear to. |
| 9385 |
The danger and escape occurred upon a Sunday. We were all ten ranged in a conspicuous part of the gallery at church, with Miss Griffin at our head as we were every Sunday advertising the establishment in an unsecular sort of way when the description of Solomon in his domestic glory happened to be read. |
| 9386 |
It cannot be referred to my inheritance of any developed peculiarity, nor had I ever before any at all similar experience, nor have I ever had any at all similar experience since. It does not signify how many years ago, or how few, a certain murder was committed in England, which attracted great attention. |
| 9387 |
I purposely abstain from giving any direct clue to the criminal's individuality. When the murder was first discovered, no suspicion fell or I ought rather to say, for I cannot be too precise in my facts, it was nowhere publicly hinted that any suspicion fell on the man who was afterwards brought to trial. |
| 9388 |
The discovery had been made in a bedroom, and, when I laid down the paper, I was aware of a flash rush flow I do not know what to call it, no word I can find is satisfactorily descriptive, in which I seemed to see that bedroom passing through my room, like a picture impossibly painted on a running river. |
| 9389 |
As the pillar fell and the leaves dispersed, I saw two men on the opposite side of the way, going from West to East. They were one behind the other. The foremost man often looked back over his shoulder. The second man followed him, at a distance of some thirty paces, with his right hand menacingly raised. |
| 9390 |
I saw their two faces very distinctly, and I knew that I could recognise them anywhere. Not that I had consciously noticed anything very remarkable in either face, except that the man who went first had an unusually lowering appearance, and that the face of the man who followed him was of the colour of impure wax. |
| 9391 |
At the same period, and as a part of the same arrangement, the door had been nailed up and canvased over. I was standing in my bedroom late one night, giving some directions to my servant before he went to bed. My face was towards the only available door of communication with the dressing room, and it was closed. |
| 9392 |
The figure, having beckoned, drew back, and closed the door. With no longer pause than was made by my crossing the bedroom, I opened the dressing room door, and looked in. I had a lighted candle already in my hand. I felt no inward expectation of seeing the figure in the dressing room, and I did not see it there. |
| 9393 |
Comparing its expression when beckoning at the door with its expression when it had stared up at me as I stood at my window, I came to the conclusion that on the first occasion it had sought to fasten itself upon my memory, and that on the second occasion it had made sure of being immediately remembered. |
| 9394 |
I noticed the black vapour hanging like a murky curtain outside the great windows, and I noticed the stifled sound of wheels on the straw or tan that was littered in the street; also, the hum of the people gathered there, which a shrill whistle, or a louder song or hail than the rest, occasionally pierced. |
| 9395 |
We all slept in one large room on separate tables, and we were constantly in the charge and under the eye of the officer sworn to hold us in safe keeping. I see no reason for suppressing the real name of that officer. He was intelligent, highly polite, and obliging, and (I was glad to hear) much respected in the City. |
| 9396 |
It stood for a few moments by the bedside of each of my eleven brother jurymen, close to the pillow. It always went to the right hand side of the bed, and always passed out crossing the foot of the next bed. It seemed, from the action of the head, merely to look down pensively at each recumbent figure. |
| 9397 |
It took no notice of me, or of my bed, which was that nearest to Mr. Harker's. It seemed to go out where the moonlight came in, through a high window, as by an aerial flight of stairs. Next morning at breakfast, it appeared that everybody present had dreamed of the murdered man last night, except myself and Mr. Harker. |
| 9398 |
On my going towards them, and striking into the conversation, he immediately retired. This was the beginning of a separate series of appearances, confined to that long room in which we were confined. Whenever a knot of my brother jurymen laid their heads together, I saw the head of the murdered man among theirs. |
| 9399 |
The figure was now in Court continually, and it never there addressed itself to me, but always to the person who was speaking at the time. For instance: the throat of the murdered man had been cut straight across. In the opening speech for the defence, it was suggested that the deceased might have cut his own throat. |
| 9400 |
For another instance: a witness to character, a woman, deposed to the prisoner's being the most amiable of mankind. The figure at that instant stood on the floor before her, looking her full in the face, and pointing out the prisoner's evil countenance with an extended arm and an outstretched finger. |
| 9401 |
So with the venerable, sagacious, and patient Judge who conducted the trial. When the case was over, and he settled himself and his papers to sum up, the murdered man, entering by the Judges' door, advanced to his Lordship's desk, and looked eagerly over his shoulder at the pages of his notes which he was turning. |
| 9402 |
Whereat he came to his feet, and in short, nervous phrases consigned all canoe men and launch captains to eternal perdition. A man on the barge leaned over from above and baptized him with crisp and crackling oaths, while the whites and Indians in the canoe laughed derisively. "Aw, g'wan!" one of them shouted. |
| 9403 |
From each of these, to the shore and back again, flowed a steady stream of scows, launches, canoes, and all sorts of smaller craft. Man, the mighty toiler, reacting upon a hostile environment, she thought, going back in memory to the masters whose wisdom she had shared in lecture room and midnight study. |
| 9404 |
Time had rolled back, and locomotion and transportation were once again in the most primitive stages. Men who had never carried more than parcels in all their lives had now become bearers of burdens. They no longer walked upright under the sun, but stooped the body forward and bowed the head to the earth. |
| 9405 |
Tenderfeet, with ten pounds of Colt's revolvers, cartridges, and hunting knives belted about them, wandered valiantly up the trail, and crept back softly, shedding revolvers, cartridges, and knives in despairing showers. And so, in gasping and bitter sweat, these sons of Adam suffered for Adam's sin. |
| 9406 |
Before the store, by the scales, was another crowd. An Indian threw his pack upon the scales, the white owner jotted down the weight in a note book, and another pack was thrown on. Each pack was in the straps, ready for the packer's back and the precarious journey over the Chilcoot. Frona edged in closer. |
| 9407 |
But another Indian joined the group and began whispering excitedly. A cheer went up, and before the man could realize it they had jerked off their straps and departed, spreading the news as they went that freight to Lake Linderman was fifty cents. Of a sudden, the crowd before the store was perceptibly agitated. |
| 9408 |
Its members whispered excitedly one to another, and all their eyes were focussed upon three men approaching from up the trail. The trio were ordinary looking creatures, ill clad and even ragged. In a more stable community their apprehension by the village constable and arrest for vagrancy would have been immediate. |
| 9409 |
A partridge boomed afar in the forest, and a tree squirrel launched unerringly into space above her head, and went on, from limb to limb and tree to tree, scolding graciously the while. From the hidden river rose the shouts of the toiling adventurers, already parted from sleep and fighting their way towards the Pole. |
| 9410 |
She came upon a boy, breech clouted and bare, like a copper god. He was gathering wood, and looked at her keenly over his bronze shoulder. She bade him good morning, blithely, in the Dyea tongue; but he shook his head, and laughed insultingly, and paused in his work to hurl shameful words after her. |
| 9411 |
It began at the very forest, and flowed in and out among the scattered tree clumps on the flat, and spilled over and down to the river bank where the long canoes were lined up ten and twelve deep. It was a gathering of the tribes, like unto none in all the past, and a thousand miles of coast made up the tally. |
| 9412 |
She was not frightened by this insolence, but angered; for it hurt her, and embittered the pleasurable home coming. Yet she quickly grasped the significance of it: the old patriarchal status of her father's time had passed away, and civilization, in a scorching blast, had swept down upon this people in a day. |
| 9413 |
Glancing under the raised flaps of a tent, she saw haggard faced bucks squatting in a circle on the floor. By the door a heap of broken bottles advertised the vigils of the night. A white man, low of visage and shrewd, was dealing cards about, and gold and silver coins leaped into heaping bets upon the blanket board. |
| 9414 |
Nor could it be otherwise that the young men contrive great wealth; but they sit by night over the cards, and it passes from them, and they speak harsh words one to another, and in anger blows are struck, and there is bad blood between them. As for old Muskim, there are few offerings of meat and fish and blanket. |
| 9415 |
Fastened tightly to her back were her camera and a small travelling satchel. In addition, she carried for alpenstock the willow pole of Neepoosa. Her dress was of the mountaineering sort, short skirted and scant, allowing the greatest play with the least material, and withal gray of color and modest. |
| 9416 |
One called aloud the various articles, while the other checked them off on a piece of dirty wrapping paper. Letters and receipts, wet and pulpy, strewed the sand. A few gold coins were heaped carelessly on a white handkerchief. Other men, crossing back and forth in canoes and skiffs, took no notice. |
| 9417 |
Some one called warningly from the opposite bank, whereat they stood still and conferred together. Then they started on again. The two men taking the inventory turned to watch. The current rose nigh to their hips, but it was swift and they staggered, while now and again the cart slipped sideways with the stream. |
| 9418 |
The worst was over, and Frona found herself holding her breath. The water had sunk to the knees of the two foremost men, when a strap snapped on one nearest the cart. His pack swung suddenly to the side, overbalancing him. At the same instant the man next to him slipped, and each jerked the other under. |
| 9419 |
The effort was heroic, but giants though they were, the task was too great and they were dragged, inch by inch, downward and under. Their packs held them to the bottom, save him whose strap had broken. This one struck out, not to the shore, but down the stream, striving to keep up with his comrades. |
| 9420 |
The cart, still loaded, showed first, smashing a wheel and turning over and over into the next plunge. The men followed in a miserable tangle. They were beaten against the submerged rocks and swept on, all but one. Frona, in a canoe (a dozen canoes were already in pursuit), saw him grip the rock with bleeding fingers. |
| 9421 |
A dozen feet away the steady flood of life flowed by and Frona melted into it and went on. The dark spruce shrouded mountains drew close together in the Dyea Canyon, and the feet of men churned the wet sunless earth into mire and bog hole. And when they had done this they sought new paths, till there were many paths. |
| 9422 |
The men glanced at her sideways, and one of them said something in an undertone. Frona could not hear, but the snicker which went down the line brought the flush of shame to her brow and told her more forcibly than could the words. Her face was hot, for she sat disgraced in her own sight; but she gave no sign. |
| 9423 |
At the bend in the middle their weight forced the tree under, and they felt for their footing, up to the ankles in the cold, driving torrent. Even the little children made it without hesitancy, and then the dogs whining and reluctant but urged on by the man. When the last had crossed over, he turned to Frona. |
| 9424 |
Somewhere above, a mighty glacier, under the pent pressure of a subterranean reservoir, had burst asunder and hurled a hundred thousand tons of ice and water down the rocky gorge. The trail was yet slippery with the slime of the flood, and men were rummaging disconsolately in the rubbish of overthrown tents and caches. |
| 9425 |
And it went on, up the pitch of the steep, growing fainter and smaller, till it squirmed and twisted like a column of ants and vanished over the crest of the pass. Even as she looked, Chilcoot was wrapped in rolling mist and whirling cloud, and a storm of sleet and wind roared down upon the toiling pigmies. |
| 9426 |
The lake was angry and white capped, and though a hundred caches were waiting ferriage, no boats were plying back and forth. A rickety skeleton of sticks, in a shell of greased canvas, lay upon the rocks. Frona sought out the owner, a bright faced young fellow, with sharp black eyes and a salient jaw. |
| 9427 |
He turned upon her suddenly, but on second thought did not utter the words forming on his lips. She realized the unintentional slur she had cast, and was about to explain. But on second thought she, too, remained silent; for she read him, and knew that it was perhaps the only way for her to gain her point. |
| 9428 |
The man arose to his feet, coughing from the smoke which had been driven into his lungs, and nodding approval. When he had recovered his breath, "Sit down and dry your skirts. I'll get supper." He put a coffee pot on the front lid of the stove, emptied the bucket into it, and went out of the tent after more water. |
| 9429 |
As his back disappeared, Frona dived for her satchel, and when he returned a moment later he found her with a dry skirt on and wringing the wet one out. While he fished about in the grub box for dishes and eating utensils, she stretched a spare bit of rope between the tent poles and hung the skirt on it to dry. |
| 9430 |
Her childhood had taught her the value of well cared feet for the trail. She put her wet shoes on a pile of wood at the back of the stove, substituting for them a pair of soft and dainty house moccasins of Indian make. The fire had now grown strong, and she was content to let her under garments dry on her body. |
| 9431 |
Once or twice she moistened her lips to speak, but he appeared so oblivious of her presence that she withheld. After opening a can of corned beef with the axe, he fried half a dozen thick slices of bacon, set the frying pan back, and boiled the coffee. From the grub box he resurrected the half of a cold heavy flapjack. |
| 9432 |
He looked at it dubiously, and shot a quick glance at her. Then he threw the sodden thing out of doors and dumped the contents of a sea biscuit bag upon a camp cloth. The sea biscuit had been crumbled into chips and fragments and generously soaked by the rain till it had become a mushy, pulpy mass of dirty white. |
| 9433 |
She knew it well; her one girl chum and dearest friend had had such an eye. His hair was chestnut brown, glinting in the candle light to gold, and the hint of waviness in it explained the perceptible droop to his tawny moustache. For the rest, his face was clean shaven and cut on a good masculine pattern. |
| 9434 |
Those who by virtue of wifehood and daughterhood are respectable, and those who are not respectable. Vaudeville stars and artists, they call themselves for the sake of decency; and out of courtesy we countenance it. Yes, yes, I know. But remember, the women who come over the trail must be one or the other. |
| 9435 |
This left an uncomfortable hollow with lumpy sack corners down the middle; but she smote them flat with the side of the axe, and in the same manner lessened the slope to the walls of the hollow. Then she made a triple longitudinal fold in a blanket and spread it along the bottom of the long depression. |
| 9436 |
The ubiquitous bacon was abroad on the air when she opened her eyes. Day had broken, and with it the storm. The wet sun was shining cheerily over the drenched landscape and in at the wide spread flaps. Already work had begun, and groups of men were filing past under their packs. Frona turned over on her side. |
| 9437 |
The whole thing seemed a dream, and he reassured himself by turning and looking after her retreating form. Del Bishop and the Indians were already out of sight behind a wall of rock. Frona was just rounding the base. The sun was full upon her, and she stood out radiantly against the black shadow of the wall beyond. |
| 9438 |
He was a giant trader in a country without commerce, a ripened product of the nineteenth century flourishing in a society as primitive as that of the Mediterranean vandals. A captain of industry and a splendid monopolist, he dominated the most independent aggregate of men ever drawn together from the ends of the earth. |
| 9439 |
In the morning his mother cooked the breakfast over the camp fire, and capped it with a fifty mile ride into the next sun down. The trapper father had come of the sturdy Welsh stock which trickled into early Ohio out of the jostling East, and the mother was a nomadic daughter of the Irish emigrant settlers of Ontario. |
| 9440 |
In the first year of his life, ere he had learned the way of his legs, Jacob Welse had wandered a horse through a thousand miles of wilderness, and wintered in a hunting lodge on the head waters of the Red River of the North. His first foot gear was moccasins, his first taffy the tallow from a moose. |
| 9441 |
A town was a cluster of deer skin lodges; a trading post a seat of civilization; and a factor God Almighty Himself. Rivers and lakes existed chiefly for man's use in travelling. Viewed in this light, the mountains puzzled him; but he placed them away in his classification of the Inexplicable and did not worry. |
| 9442 |
Pelts were valuable, and with a few bales a man might purchase the earth. Animals were made for men to catch and skin. He did not know what men were made for, unless, perhaps, for the factor. As he grew older he modified these concepts, but the process was a continual source of naive apprehension and wonderment. |
| 9443 |
It was not until he became a man and had wandered through half the cities of the States that this expression of childish wonder passed out of his eyes and left them wholly keen and alert. At his boy's first contact with the cities, while he revised his synthesis of things, he also generalized afresh. |
| 9444 |
People who lived in cities were effeminate. They did not carry the points of the compass in their heads, and they got lost easily. That was why they elected to stay in the cities. Because they might catch cold and because they were afraid of the dark, they slept under shelter and locked their doors at night. |
| 9445 |
And further, in token that some good did come out of Nazareth, in the full tide of manhood he took to himself a city bred woman. But he still yearned for the edge of things, and the leaven in his blood worked till they went away, and above the Dyea Beach, on the rim of the forest, built the big log trading post. |
| 9446 |
And here, in the mellow of time, he got a proper focus on things and unified the phenomena of society precisely as he had already unified the phenomena of nature. There was naught in one which could not be expressed in terms of the other. The same principles underlaid both; the same truths were manifest of both. |
| 9447 |
Battle was the law and the way of progress. The world was made for the strong, and only the strong inherited it, and through it all there ran an eternal equity. To be honest was to be strong. To sin was to weaken. To bluff an honest man was to be dishonest. To bluff a bluffer was to smite with the steel of justice. |
| 9448 |
As of old time, men still fought for the mastery of the earth and the delights thereof. But the sword had given way to the ledger; the mail clad baron to the soft garbed industrial lord, and the centre of imperial political power to the seat of commercial exchanges. The modern will had destroyed the ancient brute. |
| 9449 |
Brain was greater than body. The man with the brain could best conquer things primitive. He did not have much education as education goes. To the three R's his mother taught him by camp fire and candle light, he had added a somewhat miscellaneous book knowledge; but he was not burdened with what he had gathered. |
| 9450 |
Every ounce of its dust passed through his hands; every post card and letter of credit. He did its banking and exchange; carried and distributed its mails. He frowned upon competition; frightened out predatory capital; bluffed militant syndicates, and when they would not, backed his bluff and broke them. |
| 9451 |
The Laura backed out through a channel cut in the shore ice, swung about in the current, and with a final blast put on full steam ahead. The crowd thinned away and went about its business, leaving Jacob Welse the centre of a group of a dozen or so. The talk was of the famine, but it was the talk of men. |
| 9452 |
Jacob Welse hesitated. Though he stood within reach of the gunwale, a gulf of three years was between. The womanhood of twenty, added unto the girl of seventeen, made a sum more prodigious than he had imagined. He did not know whether to bear hug the radiant young creature or to take her hand and help her ashore. |
| 9453 |
This event he anticipated with a thrill, with the exultancy over change which is common of all life. She was something new, a fresh type, a woman unrelated to all women he had met. Out of the fascinating unknown a pair of hazel eyes smiled into his, and a hand, soft of touch and strong of grip, beckoned him. |
| 9454 |
Not that Vance Corliss was anybody's fool, nor that his had been an anchorite's existence; but that his upbringing, rather, had given his life a certain puritanical bent. Awakening intelligence and broader knowledge had weakened the early influence of an austere mother, but had not wholly eradicated it. |
| 9455 |
In its very nature such a condition could not be permanent. It was the intermediary stage, marking the passage from high to low, from best to worst. All of which might have been true, even as he saw it; but with definitions for premises, conclusions cannot fail to be dogmatic. What was good and bad? There it was. |
| 9456 |
But whensoever the call came, being so constituted, it was manifest that he should adapt, should adjust himself to the unwonted pressure of new conditions. The maxim of the rolling stone may be all true; but notwithstanding, in the scheme of life, the inability to become fixed is an excellence par excellence. |
| 9457 |
Steam heating apparatus in the Klondike! But the next instant he had passed out of the hall through the heavy portieres and stood inside the drawing room. And it was a drawing room. His moose hide moccasins sank luxuriantly into the deep carpet, and his eyes were caught by a Turner sunrise on the opposite wall. |
| 9458 |
Being an Eldorado king, he had felt it incumbent to assume the position in society to which his numerous millions entitled him; and though unused all his days to social amenities other than the out hanging latch string and the general pot, he had succeeded to his own satisfaction as a knight of the carpet. |
| 9459 |
Naturally so, then, the friendship which sprang up between Corliss and Frona was anything but languid. They met often under her father's roof tree, and went many places together. Each found a pleasurable attraction in the other, and a satisfaction which the things they were not in accord with could not mar. |
| 9460 |
In her wildest flights she could never imagine linking herself with any man, no matter how exalted spiritually, who was not a man physically. It was a delight to her and a joy to look upon the strong males of her kind, with bodies comely in the sight of God and muscles swelling with the promise of deeds and work. |
| 9461 |
If she felt impelled to joy in a well built frame and well shaped muscle, why should she restrain? Why should she not love the body, and without shame? The history of the race, and of all races, sealed her choice with approval. Down all time, the weak and effeminate males had vanished from the world stage. |
| 9462 |
Yet of all creatures, she was the last to be deaf and blind to the things of the spirit. But the things of the spirit she demanded should be likewise strong. No halting, no stuttered utterance, tremulous waiting, minor wailing! The mind and the soul must be as quick and definite and certain as the body. |
| 9463 |
Like the flesh, it must strive and toil. It must be workaday as well as idle day. She could understand a weakling singing sweetly and even greatly, and in so far she could love him for his sweetness and greatness; but her love would have fuller measure were he strong of body as well. She believed she was just. |
| 9464 |
Next, Corliss had the physical potency of the hero without the grossness of the brute. His muscular development was more qualitative than quantitative, and it is the qualitative development which gives rise to beauty of form. A giant need not be proportioned in the mould; nor a thew be symmetrical to be massive. |
| 9465 |
She liked him for his mind. Though somewhat academic, somewhat tainted with latter day scholasticism, it was still a mind which permitted him to be classed with the "Intellectuals." He was capable of divorcing sentiment and emotion from reason. Granted that he included all the factors, he could not go wrong. |
| 9466 |
But she was aware that it was not an irremediable defect, and that the new life he was leading was very apt to rectify it. He was filled with culture; what he needed was a few more of life's facts. And she liked him for himself, which is quite different from liking the parts which went to compose him. |
| 9467 |
And giving the apparent lie to their own sanity and moral stability, many such men have married peasant girls or barmaids, And those to whom evil apportioned itself have been prone to distrust the impulse they obeyed, forgetting that nature makes or mars the individual for the sake, always, of the type. |
| 9468 |
Further, she gave new life to old facts, and her interpretations of common things were coherent and vigorous and new. Though his acquired conservatism was alarmed and cried danger, he could not remain cold to the charm of her philosophizing, while her scholarly attainments were fully redeemed by her enthusiasm. |
| 9469 |
He liked her for the strength of her slenderness; and to walk with her, swinging her step and stride to his, or to merely watch her come across a room or down the street, was a delight. Life and the joy of life romped through her blood, abstemiously filling out and rounding off each shapely muscle and soft curve. |
| 9470 |
The co ordination of physical with spiritual beauty is very strong in normal men, and so it was with Vance Corliss. That he liked the one was no reason that he failed to appreciate the other. He liked Frona for both, and for herself as well. And to like, with him, though he did not know it, was to love. |
| 9471 |
Up at the Barracks, at the Welse's, and a few other places, all men of standing were welcomed and made comfortable by the womenkind of like standing. There were teas, and dinners, and dances, and socials for charity, and the usual run of things; all of which, however, failed to wholly satisfy the men. |
| 9472 |
She smiled wistfully at the girl, and without a word turned and went down the trail. And without a word Frona sprang upon her sled and was off. The way was wide, and Corliss swung in his dogs abreast of hers. The smouldering rebellion flared up, and she seemed to gather to herself some of the woman's recklessness. |
| 9473 |
But without beating about the bush, in that way of hers which he had come already to admire, she at once showed her colors and came frankly forward to him. The first glimpse of her face told him, the first feel of her hand, before she had said a word, told him that all was well. "I am glad you have come," she began. |
| 9474 |
What man has willed that he has had. So you, and all men, have willed since the beginning of time. So poor Dorsey willed. You cannot answer, so let me speak something that occurs to me concerning that higher logic you call strength. I have met it before. I recognized it in you, yesterday, on the sleds. |
| 9475 |
Because I am sincere; because I desire to be natural, and honest, and true; and because I am consistent with myself, you choose to misunderstand it all and to lay wrong strictures upon me. I do try to be consistent, and I think I fairly succeed; but you can see neither rhyme nor reason in my consistency. |
| 9476 |
Half a dozen dancing men were waiting patiently at a little distance till she should have done with the colonel. The piano and violin played the opening bars of a schottische, and she turned to go; but a sudden impulse made Corliss step up to her. It was wholly unpremeditated; he had not dreamed of doing it. |
| 9477 |
A warm mist dimmed her eyes. "Thank you," she said. But the waiting men had grown impatient, and she was whirled away in the arms of a handsome young fellow, conspicuous in a cap of yellow Siberian wolf skin. Corliss came back to his companion, feeling unaccountably good and marvelling at what he had done. |
| 9478 |
Colonel Trethaway forgot that the heats of life had passed, and swinging a three legged stool, danced nimbly into the fray. A couple of mounted police, on liberty, joined him, and with half a dozen others safeguarded the man with the wolf skin cap. Fierce though it was, and noisy, it was purely a local disturbance. |
| 9479 |
As he dragged himself to his feet by means of the bar rail, he saw a man in a squirrel skin parka lift a beer mug to hurl at Trethaway, a couple of paces off. And the fingers, which were more used to test tubes and water colors, doubled into a hard fist which smote the mug thrower cleanly on the point of the jaw. |
| 9480 |
They were utterly heartless. How I managed to survive is beyond me; but I know that often and often, at first, I meditated suicide. The only thing that saved me during that period from taking my own life was the fact that I quickly became too stupefied and bestial, what of my suffering and degradation. |
| 9481 |
I have vague recollections of being lashed to a sled and dragged from camp to camp and tribe to tribe. Carted about for exhibition purposes, I suppose, much as we do lions and elephants and wild men. How far I so journeyed up and down that bleak region I cannot guess, though it must have been several thousand miles. |
| 9482 |
Corliss, who was responsible, by the way, for the theatricals, having first suggested them, was to take Torvald's part; but his interest seemed to have died out, or at any rate he begged off on the plea of business rush. So St. Vincent, without friction, took Torvald's lines. Corliss did manage to attend one rehearsal. |
| 9483 |
That it was a deal of magnitude was evidenced by the fact that Welse's mining interests involved alone mounted to several millions. Corliss was primarily a worker and doer, and on discovering that his thorough theoretical knowledge lacked practical experience, he felt put upon his mettle and worked the harder. |
| 9484 |
Equipped with the best of outfits and a magnificent dog team, his task was mainly to run the various creeks and keep his eyes and ears open. A pocket miner, first, last, and always, he was privately on the constant lookout for pockets, which occupation did not interfere in the least with the duty he owed his employer. |
| 9485 |
All of which was not pleasant to Corliss, especially when the brief intervals he could devote to her were usually intruded upon by the correspondent. Naturally, Corliss was not drawn to him, and other men, who knew or had heard of the Opera House occurrence, only accepted him after a tentative fashion. |
| 9486 |
I can swear from hell to breakfast, by damn, and back again, if you will permit me, to the last link of perdition. By the bones of Pharaoh and the blood of Judas, for instance, are fairly efficacious with a string of huskies; but the best of my dog driving nomenclature, more's the pity, women cannot stand. |
| 9487 |
St. Vincent and the baron remained behind to take lunch with the Gold Commissioner's wife, leaving Frona and Corliss to go down the hill together. Silently consenting, as though to prolong the descent, they swerved to the right, cutting transversely the myriad foot paths and sled roads which led down into the town. |
| 9488 |
Two dog drivers, a woman walking blindly, and a black robed priest, made up the funeral cortege. A few paces farther on the dogs were again put against the steep, and with whine and shout and clatter the unheeding clay was hauled on and upward to its ice hewn hillside chamber. "A zone conqueror," Frona broke voice. |
| 9489 |
He had thought that he could have taken such a disappointment more manfully, especially since in advance he had not been at all sure of his footing. So he called upon her, walked with her up to the Barracks, and on the way, with her help, managed to soften the awkwardness which the morning had left between them. |
| 9490 |
He exaggerated the humility with which he walked at the heel of his conqueror, while the extravagant servility which marked his obedience to his hired man made that individual grin. "You'll do. You've got the makin's in you!" Del threw down the tools and scanned the run of the snow surface carefully. |
| 9491 |
Corliss was responsible for her getting in on the lay, and he drove and marked her stakes himself, though it fell to the colonel to deliver the invitation to her to come and be rich. In accordance with the custom of the country, those thus benefited offered to sign over half interests to the two discoverers. |
| 9492 |
But he got her tongue wagging, and to such an extent that he stopped and smoked many pipes, and whenever she lagged, urged her on again. He grunted and chuckled and swore in undertones while he listened, punctuating her narrative regularly with hells! which adequately expressed the many shades of interest he felt. |
| 9493 |
St. Vincent certainly rang true. Simple, light hearted, unaffected, joking and being joked in all good nature, thoroughly democratic. Matt failed to catch the faintest echo of insincerity. "May the dogs walk on me grave," he communed with himself while studying a hand which suffered from a plethora of trumps. |
| 9494 |
I had attempted the impossible, gambled against the inevitable. I had sent you from me to get that which I had not, dreaming that we would still be one. As though two could be added to two and still remain two. So, to sum up, the breed still holds, but you have learned an alien tongue. When you speak it I am deaf. |
| 9495 |
For all her harking back to the primitive and stout defence of its sanity and truth, did his native philosophy give him the same code which she drew from her acquired philosophy? Then she stood aside and regarded herself and the queries she put, and drew apart from them, for they breathed of treason. |
| 9496 |
When you made your exit, capped and jacketed and travelling bag in hand, it seemed I could not possibly stay and finish my lines. And when the door slammed and you were gone, the only thing that saved me was the curtain. It brought me to myself, or else I would have rushed after you in the face of the audience. |
| 9497 |
Frona shivered, and St. Vincent passed his arm about her waist. The woman in her was aware of the touch of man, and of a slight tingling thrill of vague delight; but she made no resistance. And as the wolf dogs mourned at her feet and the aurora wantoned overhead, she felt herself drawn against him closely. |
| 9498 |
The arch dissolved in blushing confusion. Chasms of blackness yawned, grew, and rushed together. Broken masses of strayed color and fading fire stole timidly towards the sky line. Then the dome of night towered imponderable, immense, and the stars came back one by one, and the wolf dogs mourned anew. |
| 9499 |
There was something familiar in the vague general outline. She quested back to the shrouded head again, and knew the unmistakable poise. Then How ha's eyes went blear as she traversed the simple windings of her own brain, inspecting the bare shelves taciturnly stored with the impressions of a meagre life. |
| 9500 |
The big bodied, white skinned northern dweller, rude and ferocious, bellows his anger uncouthly and drives a gross fist into the face of his foe. The supple south sojourner, silken of smile and lazy of gesture, waits, and does his work from behind, when no man looketh, gracefully and without offence. |
| 9501 |
An exchange of cradle babes, and the base born slave may wear the purple imperially, and the royal infant begs an alms as wheedlingly or cringe to the lash as abjectly as his meanest subject. A Chesterfield, with an empty belly, chancing upon good fare, will gorge as faithfully as the swine in the next sty. |
| 9502 |
His breath had so settled on his face in a white rime that he could not speak. Such a condition was ever a hardship with the man, so he thrust his face forthwith into the quivering heat above the stove. In a trice the frost was started and the thawed streamlets dancing madly on the white hot surface beneath. |
| 9503 |
She was a fair featured, blondish woman, originally not unpleasing of appearance, but now with lines all deepened and hardened as on the faces of men who have endured much weather beat. Congratulating himself upon his social proficiency, Jake Cornell cleared his throat and marshalled the second woman to the front. |
| 9504 |
She was a pretty, low browed creature; darkly pretty, with a well favored body, and for all that the type was mean, he could not escape the charm of her over brimming vitality. She seemed bursting with it, and every quick, spontaneous movement appeared to spring from very excess of red blood and superabundant energy. |
| 9505 |
Coming suddenly in from the darkness, she hesitated a moment, but in that moment recovered her sight and took in the scene. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, and the odor of it, in the close room, was sickening to one fresh from the pure outside. On the table a column of steam was ascending from the big mixing pan. |
| 9506 |
The faces of all were flushed. Vance leaned nervelessly against the door. The whole situation seemed so unthinkably impossible. An insane desire to laugh came over him, which resolved itself into a coughing fit. But Frona, realizing her own pressing need by the growing absence of sensation in her feet, stepped forward. |
| 9507 |
Could it be, after all, that Lucile was mercenary? These thoughts crowded upon her swiftly, with the colonel anxiously watching her face the while. She knew she must answer quickly, yet was distracted by an involuntary admiration for his bravery. So she followed, perforce, the lead of her heart, and consented. |
| 9508 |
This, in turn, had a consequent effect on Vance, and gave a certain distance to his manner which forced him out of touch even with the colonel. Colonel Trethaway seemed to have thrown twenty years off his erect shoulders, and the discrepancy in the match which Frona had felt vanished as she looked at him. |
| 9509 |
On the instant, with a brute roar, the chair was overturned and Borg was on his feet, eyes blazing and face convulsed. Bella gave an inarticulate, animal like cry of fear and cowered at his feet. St. Vincent felt his hair bristling, and an uncanny chill, like a jet of cold air, played up and down his spine. |
| 9510 |
The spring was in the air and in their blood, and it was very good to be alive. Only a wintry heart could deny a smile on such a day. Bella slipped again, tried to recover, slipped with the other foot, and sat down abruptly. Laughing gleefully, both of them, the correspondent caught her hands to pull her to her feet. |
| 9511 |
It was now chill day by three o'clock and mellow twilight at nine. Soon a golden circle would be drawn around the sky, and deep midnight become bright as high noon. The willows and aspens had long since budded, and were now decking themselves in liveries of fresh young green, and the sap was rising in the pines. |
| 9512 |
Sand martins were driving their ancient tunnels into the soft clay banks, and robins singing on the spruce garbed islands. Overhead the woodpecker knocked insistently, and in the forest depths the partridge boom boomed and strutted in virile glory. But in all this nervous haste the Yukon took no part. |
| 9513 |
While she made up a bundle of food in the tent, the men provided and rigged themselves with sixty or seventy feet of light rope. Jacob Welse and St. Vincent made themselves fast to it at either end, and the baron in the middle. He claimed the food as his portion, and strapped it to his broad shoulders. |
| 9514 |
Later on, she cut back to the shore at a tangent, landing on the deserted island above; and an hour afterwards trotted into camp minus the grub pack. Then the two dogs, hovering just out of range, compromised matters by devouring each other's burdens; after which the attempt was given over and they were called in. |
| 9515 |
During the afternoon the noise increased in frequency, and by nightfall was continuous, but by morning it had ceased utterly. The river had risen eight feet, and in many places was running over its crust. Much crackling and splitting were going on, and fissures leaping into life and multiplying in all directions. |
| 9516 |
Then the stalled cake turned completely over and thrust its muddy nose skyward. But the squeeze caught it, while cake mounted cake at its back, and its fifty feet of muck and gouge were hurled into the air. It crashed upon the moving mass beneath, and flying fragments landed at the feet of those that watched. |
| 9517 |
The islands drove their wedged heads into the frozen flood and tossed the cakes high into the air. But cake pressed upon cake and shelved out of the water, out and up, sliding and grinding and climbing, and still more cakes from behind, till hillocks and mountains of ice upreared and crashed among the trees. |
| 9518 |
She pulled at him to get his mouth above water, but at full stretch his head, barely showed. Then she let go and felt about with her hands till she found his right arm jammed between the logs. These she could not move, but she thrust between them one of the roof poles which had underlaid the dirt and moss. |
| 9519 |
The sun was not idle, and the steaming thaw washed the mud and foulness from the bergs till they blazed like heaped diamonds in the brightness, or shimmered opalescent blue. Yet they were reared hazardously one on another, and ever and anon flashing towers and rainbow minarets crumbled thunderously into the flood. |
| 9520 |
And here, at once, through skilful handling, Corliss took to himself confidence in Frona. It was a great picture: the river rushing blackly between its crystalline walls; beyond, the green woods stretching upward to touch the cloud flecked summer sky; and over all, like a furnace blast, the hot sun beating down. |
| 9521 |
La Bijou sprang forward, cleared the eddy with a bound, and plunged into the thick. Dip and lift, dip and lift, the paddles worked with rhythmic strength. The water rippled and tore, and pulled all ways at once; and the fragile shell, unable to go all ways at once, shook and quivered with the shock of resistance. |
| 9522 |
La Bijou leaped and shot ahead, and the water, slipping away underneath, kept her always in one place. Now they surged out from the fissure, now in; ahead for half a yard, then back again; and the fissure mocked their toil. Five minutes, each of which sounded a separate eternity, and the fissure was past. |
| 9523 |
What they gained they held, and fought for more, inch by inch, dip and lift; and all would have been well but for the flutter of Tommy's soul. A cake of ice, sucked beneath by the current, rose under his paddle with a flurry of foam, turned over its toothed edge, and was dragged back into the depths. |
| 9524 |
His voice sounded like a man's whose throat has been scorched by many and long potations. It frightened him, but he limply lifted a shaking paddle and shoved off. "Yes; let us start, by all means," Frona said in a dim voice, which seemed to come to him from a far distance. Tommy lifted his head and gazed about. |
| 9525 |
But they passed it, inch by inch, and the broad bend welcomed them from above, and only a rocky buttress of implacable hate, around whose base howled the tides of an equal hate, stood between. Then La Bijou leaped and throbbed and shook again, and the current slid out from under, and they remained ever in one place. |
| 9526 |
Their souls became merged in the rhythm of the toil. Ever lifting, ever falling, they seemed to have become great pendulums of time. And before and behind glimmered the eternities, and between the eternities, ever lifting, ever falling, they pulsed in vast rhythmical movement. They were no longer humans, but rhythms. |
| 9527 |
La Bijou darted across the narrower channel to the sand spit and slipped up a little ice ravine, where the walls were less precipitous. They landed on an out jutting cake, which, without support, overhung the water for sheer thirty feet. How far its other end could be buried in the mass was matter for conjecture. |
| 9528 |
Frona stretched out full length, and dipped her hot mouth in its coolness. And lying as she did, the soles of her dilapidated moccasins, or rather the soles of her feet (for moccasins and stockings had gone in shreds), were turned upward. They were very white, and from contact with the ice were bruised and cut. |
| 9529 |
Ten minutes later they climbed the ice wall, and on and up the bank, which was partly a hillside, to where the signal of distress still fluttered. Beneath it, on the ground, lay stretched the man. He lay very quietly, and the fear that they were too late was upon them, when he moved his head slightly and moaned. |
| 9530 |
At either end of the canoe there was room to spare, but amidships Corliss was forced to paddle with the man between his knees. La Bijou swung out blithely from the bank. It was down stream at last, and there was little need for exertion. Vance's arms and shoulders and back, a bright scarlet, caught Frona's attention. |
| 9531 |
Frona's lips spread apart; she tried to speak but failed, then nodded her head that she had heard. They swung along in rapid rhythm under the rainbow wall, looking for a place where it might be quickly cleared. And down all the length of Split up Island they raced vainly, the shore crashing behind them as they fled. |
| 9532 |
La Bijou drove into it full tilt, and went half her length out of water on a shelving cake. The three leaped together, but while the two of them gripped the canoe to run it up, Tommy, in the lead, strove only to save himself. And he would have succeeded had he not slipped and fallen midway in the climb. |
| 9533 |
He reached up and clutched the gunwale. They did not have the strength, and this clog brought them at once to a standstill. Corliss looked back and yelled for him to leave go, but he only turned upward a piteous face, like that of a drowning man, and clutched more tightly. Behind them the ice was thundering. |
| 9534 |
She was lying where she had fallen, across Corliss's legs, while he, on his back, faced the hot sun without concern. She crawled up to him. He was breathing regularly, with closed eyes, which opened to meet hers. He smiled, and she sank down again. Then he rolled over on his side, and they looked at each other. |
| 9535 |
For first she was aware of a crowd of men, and of some great common purpose upon which all were seriously bent. At her knock they instinctively divided, so that a lane opened up, flanked by their pressed bodies, to the far end of the room. And there, in the long bunks on either side, sat two grave rows of men. |
| 9536 |
And midway between, against the wall, was a table. This table seemed the centre of interest. Fresh from the sun dazzle, the light within was dim and murky, but she managed to make out a bearded American sitting by the table and hammering it with a heavy caulking mallet. And on the opposite side sat St. Vincent. |
| 9537 |
I decided to make a rush for it. But no sooner had I struck the floor than one of the men turned on me, at the same time firing his revolver. That was the first shot, and the one La Flitche did not hear. It was in the struggle afterwards that the door was burst open, which enabled him to hear the last three. |
| 9538 |
The next moment we grappled and rolled on the floor. Of course, Borg was aroused, and the second man turned his attention to him and Bella. It was this second man who did the killing, for my man, naturally, had his hands full. You heard the testimony. From the way the cabin was wrecked, you can picture the struggle. |
| 9539 |
And yet further, he promised them, in set, sober terms, if anything serious were the outcome, to take an active part in the prosecution of every one of them. At the conclusion of his speech he made a motion to hold the prisoner for the territorial court and to adjourn, but was voted down without discussion. |
| 9540 |
Now, it happens that a very small class of men follow pocketing, and that a very large class of men, miners, too, disbelieve utterly in any such method or obtaining gold. "Pocket miner!" sneered a red shirted, patriarchal looking man, a man who had washed his first pan in the Californian diggings in the early fifties. |
| 9541 |
This we intend to do. We intend to show his adulterous and lustful nature, which has culminated in a dastardly deed and jeopardized his neck. We intend to show that the truth is not in him; that he is a liar beyond price; that no word he may speak upon the stand need be accepted by a jury of his peers. |
| 9542 |
Once she stole a glance at her father, and was glad that he was looking straight before him, for she did not feel able to meet his gaze just them. On the other hand, though she knew St. Vincent was eying her narrowly, she took no notice of him, and all he could see was a white face devoid of expression. |
| 9543 |
Then did she complain to her father, the old Pi Une, and he was very wroth. And dissension was sown among the tribes; but in the end I became mightier than ever, what of my cunning and resource; and Ilswunga made no more complaint, for I taught her games with cards which she might play by herself, and other things. |
| 9544 |
He could not see why she should die with a lie on her lips. He had never in the slightest way incurred her displeasure, so even revenge could not be advanced. It was inexplicable. As for the testimony of Bishop, he did not care to discuss it. It was a tissue of falsehood cunningly interwoven with truth. |
| 9545 |
And it did not matter, anyway. He had killed neither Borg nor his wife, that much he did know. Frona prefaced her argument to the meeting with a pithy discourse on the sacredness of human life, the weaknesses and dangers of circumstantial evidence, and the rights of the accused wherever doubt arose. |
| 9546 |
In the first place, she denied that a motive for the deed had been shown. As it was, the introduction of such evidence was an insult to their intelligence, and she had sufficient faith in their manhood and perspicacity to know that such puerility would not sway them in the verdict they were to give. |
| 9547 |
They could not have got off the island. The condition of the ice for the three or four hours preceding the break up would not have permitted it. The prisoner had implicated none of the residents of the island, while every one of them, with the exception of the prisoner, had been accounted for elsewhere. |
| 9548 |
One should have thought, however, that he had grown used to such things in Siberia. But that was immaterial; the facts were that he was undoubtedly in an abnormal state of excitement, that he was hysterically excited, and that a murderer under such circumstances would take little account of where he ran. |
| 9549 |
Such things had happened before. Many a man had butted into his own retribution. In the matter of the relations of Borg, Bella, and St. Vincent, he made a strong appeal to the instinctive prejudices of his listeners, and for the time being abandoned matter of fact reasoning for all potent sentimental platitudes. |
| 9550 |
His revolver went off as he fell, and John the Swede grunted and clapped a hand to his thigh. Simultaneous with this the baron was overcome. Del Bishop, with hands still above his head and eyes fixed innocently before him, had simply kicked the pickle keg out from under the Frenchman and brought him to the floor. |
| 9551 |
A boy, engaged in running a rope over one of the branches, finished his task and slid down the trunk to the ground. He looked quickly at the palms of his hands and blew upon them, and a laugh went up. A couple of wolf dogs, on the outskirts, bristled up to each other and bared their fangs. Men encouraged them. |
| 9552 |
Because you broke salt with a man, and then watched that man fight unequally for life without lifting your hand. Why, I had rather you had died in defending him; the memory of you would have been good. Yes, I had rather you had killed him yourself. At least, it would have shown there was blood in your body. |
| 9553 |
Its course could be traced over the bottom of living coral. Like some monstrous snake, the rusty chain's slack wandered over the ocean floor, crossing and recrossing itself several times and fetching up finally at the idle anchor. Big rock cod, dun and mottled, played warily in and out of the coral. |
| 9554 |
Other fish, grotesque of form and colour, were brazenly indifferent, even when a big fish shark drifted sluggishly along and sent the rock cod scuttling for their favourite crevices. On deck, for'ard, a dozen blacks pottered clumsily at scraping the teak rail. They were as inexpert at their work as so many monkeys. |
| 9555 |
In fact they looked very much like monkeys of some enlarged and prehistoric type. Their eyes had in them the querulous plaintiveness of the monkey, their faces were even less symmetrical than the monkey's, and, hairless of body, they were far more ungarmented than any monkey, for clothes they had none. |
| 9556 |
They chattered in queer, falsetto voices, and, combined, did no more work than a single white sailor. Aft, under an awning, were two white men. Each was clad in a six penny undershirt and wrapped about the loins with a strip of cloth. Belted about the middle of each was a revolver and tobacco pouch. |
| 9557 |
The sweat stood out on their skin in myriads of globules. Here and there the globules coalesced in tiny streams that dripped to the heated deck and almost immediately evaporated. The lean, dark eyed man wiped his fingers wet with a stinging stream from his forehead and flung it from him with a weary curse. |
| 9558 |
He was busy emptying powdered quinine into a cigarette paper. Rolling what was approximately fifty grains of the drug into a tight wad, he tossed it into his mouth and gulped it down without the aid of water. "Wisht I had some whiskey," the first man panted, after a fifteen minute interval of silence. |
| 9559 |
The white beach was a searing ache to his eyeballs. The palm trees, absolutely still, outlined flatly against the unrefreshing green of the packed jungle, seemed so much cardboard scenery. The little black boys, playing naked in the dazzle of sand and sun, were an affront and a hurt to the sun sick man. |
| 9560 |
Griffiths satisfied himself by a long look, then ripped out a wrathful oath. "What's he doing up here?" he demanded of the mate, of the aching sea and sky, of the merciless blaze of sun, and of the whole superheated and implacable universe with which his fate was entangled. The mate began to chuckle. |
| 9561 |
Like the other two, he was scantily clad. The cheap undershirt and white loin cloth did not serve to hide the well put up body. Heavy muscled he was, but he was not lumped and hummocked by muscles. They were softly rounded, and, when they did move, slid softly and silkily under the smooth, tanned skin. |
| 9562 |
Ardent suns had likewise tanned his face till it was swarthy as a Spaniard's. The yellow mustache appeared incongruous in the midst of such swarthiness, while the clear blue of the eyes produced a feeling of shock on the beholder. It was difficult to realize that the skin of this man had once been fair. |
| 9563 |
Griffiths, with an oath of irritation, carried the cash box to the companion steps for better light. Here, on his feet, and bending over the box, his back to his visitor, his hands shot out to the rifle that stood beside the steps, and at the same moment he whirled about. "Now don't you move a muscle," he commanded. |
| 9564 |
Down the companion way came indignant cries from the Gooma boys in his canoe. Everything was happening in seconds. There was apparently no pause in his actions as he gathered Griffiths in his arms and carried him up the steep steps in a sweeping rush. Out into the blinding glare of sunshine he came. |
| 9565 |
From amidships, revolver in hand, the mate was springing toward him. With two jumps, still holding the helpless Griffiths, Grief leaped to the rail and overboard. Both men were grappled together as they went down; but Grief, with a quick updraw of his knees to the other's chest, broke the grip and forced him down. |
| 9566 |
The Willi Waw, compelled to deaden way in order to pick up its captain, gave Grief his chance for a lead. The canoe struck the beach full tilt, with every paddle driving, and they leaped out and ran across the sand for the trees. But before they gained the shelter, three times the sand kicked into puffs ahead of them. |
| 9567 |
In Sydney, on Castlereagh Street, his offices occupied three floors. But he was rarely in those offices. He preferred always to be on the go amongst the islands, nosing out new investments, inspecting and shaking up old ones, and rubbing shoulders with fun and adventure in a thousand strange guises. |
| 9568 |
Yet beachcombers remembered his advent among the islands a score of years before, at which time the yellow mustache was already budding silkily on his lip. Unlike other white men in the tropics, he was there because he liked it. His protective skin pigmentation was excellent. He had been born to the sun. |
| 9569 |
The sun drove through their skins, ripping and smashing tissues and nerves, till they became sick in mind and body, tossed most of the Decalogue overboard, descended to beastliness, drank themselves into quick graves, or survived so savagely that war vessels were sometimes sent to curb their license. |
| 9570 |
He merely became browner with the passing of the years, though in the brown was the hint of golden tint that glows in the skin of the Polynesian. Yet his blue eyes retained their blue, his mustache its yellow, and the lines of his face were those which had persisted through the centuries in his English race. |
| 9571 |
Unlike them, he had not come out to the South Seas seeking hearth and saddle of his own. In fact, he had brought hearth and saddle with him. His advent had been in the Paumotus. He arrived on board a tiny schooner yacht, master and owner, a youth questing romance and adventure along the sun washed path of the tropics. |
| 9572 |
And so, favoured child of the sun, out of munificence of energy and sheer joy of living, he, the man of many millions, forbore on his far way to play the game with Harrison J. Griffiths for a paltry sum. It was his whim, his desire, his expression of self and of the sun warmth that poured through him. |
| 9573 |
The wind had freshened, and a lively sea was beginning to make. The shoals toward the beach were already white with the churn of water, while those farther out as yet showed no more sign than of discoloured water. As the schooner went into the wind and backed her jib and staysail the whaleboat was swung out. |
| 9574 |
The mate, finding one skulking in the darkness, flung his bunched knuckles into the creature's face and drove him to his work. The squall held at its high pitch, and under her small canvas the Willi Waw still foamed along. Again the two men stood for'ard and vainly watched in the horizontal drive of rain. |
| 9575 |
He heard the frightened cry of the mate, and was grinding the wheel down with all his might, when the Willi Waw struck. At the same instant her mainmast crashed over the bow. Five wild minutes followed. All hands held on while the hull upheaved and smashed down on the brittle coral and the warm seas swept over them. |
| 9576 |
He saw a well built young man of thirty, well featured, well dressed, and evidently, in the world's catalogue, a gentleman. But in the faint hint of slovenliness, in the shaking, eager hand that spilled the liquor, and in the nervous, vacillating eyes, Grief read the unmistakable marks of the chronic alcoholic. |
| 9577 |
After dinner he chanced upon Pankburn again. This time it was on deck, and the young man, clinging to the rail and peering into the distance at the dim forms of a man and woman in two steamer chairs drawn closely together, was crying, drunkenly. Grief noted that the man's arm was around the woman's waist. |
| 9578 |
He tried insanely to drown himself in a two foot pool of water, dived drunkenly and splendidly from fifty feet up in the rigging of the Mariposa lying at the wharf, and chartered the cutter Toerau at more than her purchase price and was only saved by his manager's refusal financially to ratify the agreement. |
| 9579 |
He opened his eyes. From the Chilian cruiser, a quarter of a mile away, came the stroke of eight bells. It was midnight. From overside came a splash and another slubbering noise. To him it seemed half amphibian, half the sounds of a man crying to himself and querulously chanting his sorrows to the general universe. |
| 9580 |
There were no navigators left. The men were put to the torture. It was beyond international law. They wanted to confess, but couldn't. They told of the three spikes in the trees on the beach, but where the island was they did not know. To the westward, far to the westward, was all they knew. The tale now goes two ways. |
| 9581 |
He didn't dream any more than the Chink, but coming back he stopped for hawksbill turtle at the very beach where you say the mate of the Flirt was killed. Only he wasn't killed. The Banks Islanders held him prisoner, and he was dying of necrosis of the jawbone, caused by an arrow wound in the fight on the beach. |
| 9582 |
Also, and more concretely, he was punctuating the rhythm with cobbles of coral stone, which he flung with amazing accuracy through Charley Roberts's windows. David Grief took him away, but not till next morning did he take him in hand. It was on the deck of the Kittiwake, and there was nothing kindergarten about it. |
| 9583 |
That, for the good of your soul; and that, for your mother's sake; and that, for the little children, undreamed of and unborn, whose mother you'll love for their sakes, and for love's sake, in the lease of manhood that will be yours when I am done with you. Come on and take your medicine. I'm not done with you yet. |
| 9584 |
Far from them was the questioning of any of the mysterious and incomprehensible ways of white men. As for Carlsen, the mate, he was grimly in accord with the treatment his employer was administering; while Albright, the supercargo, merely played with his mustache and smiled. They were men of the sea. |
| 9585 |
Then came the sandpapering. One hundred and fifty fathoms is nine hundred feet, and every link of all that length was smoothed and polished as no link ever was before. And when the last link had received its second coat of black paint, he declared himself. "Come on with more dirty work," he told Grief. |
| 9586 |
There were no beaches. The mangroves began at the water's edge, and behind them rose steep jungle, broken here and there by jagged peaks of rock. At the end of a mile, when the white scar on the bluff bore west southwest, the lead vindicated the "Directory," and the anchor rumbled down in nine fathoms. |
| 9587 |
Save for the occasional splash of a fish or the screaming of cockatoos, there seemed no other life. Once, however, a huge butterfly, twelve inches from tip to tip, fluttered high over their mastheads and drifted across to the opposing jungle. "There's no use in sending a boat in to be cut up," Grief said. |
| 9588 |
Grief touched the short fuse to his cigarette and threw the stick. So short was the fuse that the stick exploded in the instant after it struck the water. And in that same instant the bush exploded into life. There were wild yells of defiance, and black and naked bodies leaped forward like apes through the mangroves. |
| 9589 |
He was lame of one leg, and this was accounted for by a terrible scar, inches deep, which ran down the thigh from hip to knee. No clothes he wore whatever, not even a string, but his nose, perforated in a dozen places and each perforation the setting for a carved spine of bone, bristled like a porcupine. |
| 9590 |
You follow my lead. They've found the treasure, and we've got to trade them out of it. Get the whole crew aside and lecture them that they are to be interested only in the pennies. Savve? Gold coins must be beneath contempt, and silver coins merely tolerated. Pennies are to be the only desirable things. |
| 9591 |
Thus, a crafty eyed cannibal would deposit on the table a thousand dollars in gold, and go back over the rail, hugely satisfied, with forty cents' worth of tobacco in his hand. "Hope we've got enough tobacco to hold out," Carlsen muttered dubiously, as another case was sawed in half. Albright laughed. |
| 9592 |
Pennies were the one thing he seemed to desire, and he made his eyes flash covetously whenever one was produced. True to his theory, the savages concluded that the gold, being of slight value, must be disposed of first. A penny, worth fifty times as much as a sovereign, was something to retain and treasure. |
| 9593 |
Who could tell? Mayhap the strange white men could be made to give even twenty sticks for a priceless copper. By the end of the week the trade went slack. There was only the slightest dribble of gold. An occasional penny was reluctantly disposed of for ten sticks, while several thousand dollars in silver came in. |
| 9594 |
For an hour David Grief had been leaning on the rail at the lee fore rigging, gazing overside at the steady phosphorescence of her gait. The faint back draught from the headsails fanned his cheek and chest with a wine of coolness, and he was in an ecstasy of appreciation of the schooner's qualities. |
| 9595 |
Before you could say skat, she'd put a wreath of some kind of white flowers on his head, and in five minutes they were off down the beach, like a couple of kids, holding hands and laughing. I hope he's blown that big coral patch out of the channel. I always start a sheet or two of copper warping past. |
| 9596 |
She is now on the beach, where they are strengthening the broken timbers. There are eight white men on board. They have women from some island far to the east. The women talk a language in many ways like ours, only different. But we can understand. They say they were stolen by the men on the schooner. |
| 9597 |
I know, for there was a mate on your schooner who talked French long ago. There are two chief men, and they do not look like the others. They have blue eyes like you, and they are devils. One is a bigger devil than the other. The other six are also devils. They do not pay us for our yams, and taro, and breadfruit. |
| 9598 |
Give me a boat, and the guns, and I will go back before the sun. And when you come to morrow we will be ready for the word from you to kill the strange white men. They must be killed. Big Brother, you have ever been of the blood with us, and the men and women have prayed to many gods for your coming. |
| 9599 |
And it was Fuatino that David Grief raised next morning, two miles to the east and in direct line with the rising sun. The same whisper of a breeze held, and the Rattler slid through the smooth sea at a rate that would have been eminently proper for an island schooner had the breeze been thrice as strong. |
| 9600 |
Fuatino was nothing else than an ancient crater, thrust upward from the sea bottom by some primordial cataclysm. The western portion, broken and crumbled to sea level, was the entrance to the crater itself, which constituted the harbour. Thus, Fuatino was like a rugged horseshoe, the heel pointing to the west. |
| 9601 |
The harbour of Fuatino opened before him. It was a circular sheet of water, five miles in diameter, rimmed with white coral beaches, from which the verdure clad slopes rose swiftly to the frowning crater walls. The crests of the walls were saw toothed, volcanic peaks, capped and halo'd with captive trade wind clouds. |
| 9602 |
Thin streams of water, that were mere films of mist, swayed and undulated downward in sheer descents of hundreds of feet. And to complete the magic of the place, the warm, moist air was heavy with the perfume of the yellow blossomed cassi. Fanning along against light, vagrant airs, the Rattler worked in. |
| 9603 |
There was no life. In the hot blaze of tropic sun the place slept. There was no sign of welcome. Up the beach, on the north shore, where the fringe of cocoanut palms concealed the village, he could see the black bows of the canoes in the canoe houses. On the beach, on even keel, rested the strange schooner. |
| 9604 |
While the sails were furled and gasketed, awnings stretched, and sheets and tackles coiled harbour fashion, David Grief paced the deck and looked vainly for a flutter of life elsewhere than on the strange schooner. Once, beyond any doubt, he heard the distant crack of a rifle in the direction of the Big Rock. |
| 9605 |
The cocoanuts lay where they had fallen, and at the copra sheds there were no signs of curing. Industry and tidiness had vanished. Grass house after grass house he found deserted. Once he came upon an old man, blind, toothless, prodigiously wrinkled, who sat in the shade and babbled with fear when he spoke to him. |
| 9606 |
The broad path narrowed, swung to the right, and pitched upward. The last grass house was left, and through high thickets of cassi and swarms of great golden wasps the way rose steeply until it became a goat track. Pointing upward to a bare shoulder of volcanic rock, Mauriri indicated the trail across its face. |
| 9607 |
But the devils were in the bush shooting at Brown and the Raiatea men; and me they hunted till daylight, and through the morning they hunted me there in the low lying land. Then you came in your schooner, and they watched till you went ashore, and I got away through the bush, but you were already ashore. |
| 9608 |
The black walls of the crater rose about them till it seemed they swam on the bottom of a great bowl. Above was the sky of faintly luminous star dust. Ahead they could see the light which marked the Rattler, and from her deck, softened by distance, came a gospel hymn played on the phonograph intended for Pilsach. |
| 9609 |
And he, despite his cool head, lost it another time on a shelf, a scant twelve inches wide, where all hand holds seemed to fail him. And Mauriri, seeing him sway, swung his own body far out and over the gulf and passed him, at the same time striking him sharply on the back to brace his reeling brain. |
| 9610 |
When directly beneath, Grief, watching, saw her jerk away from the man. On the instant Grief touched the fire stick to the match head in the split end of the short fuse, sprang into view on the face of the rock, and dropped the dynamite. Van Asveld had managed to catch the girl and was struggling with her. |
| 9611 |
What happened afterward, for some little time, they could not tell, for the Rattler's marksmen had got the range and were maintaining a steady fire. Once, fanned by a couple of bullets, Grief risked a peep. The Valetta, her port deck and rail torn away, was listing and sinking as she drifted back into the harbour. |
| 9612 |
Climbing on board the Rattler were the men and the Huahine women who had been hidden in the Valetta's cabin and who had swum for it under the protecting fire. The Fuatino men who had been towing in the whaleboat had cast off the line, dashed back through the passage, and were rowing wildly for the south shore. |
| 9613 |
The next night Mauriri and Tehaa returned with no water. And the day following Brown learned the full connotation of thirst, when the lips crack to bleeding, the mouth is coated with granular slime, and the swollen tongue finds the mouth too small for residence. Grief swam out in the darkness with Mautau. |
| 9614 |
Turn by turn, they went down through the salt, to the cool sweet stream, drinking their fill while the calabashes were filling. It was Mau tau's turn to descend with the last calabash, and Grief, peering down from the surface, saw the glimmer of sea ghosts and all the phosphorescent display of the struggle. |
| 9615 |
Of food they had little. Nothing grew on the Rock, and its sides, covered with shellfish at sea level where the surf thundered in, were too precipitous for access. Here and there, where crevices permitted, a few rank shellfish and sea urchins were gleaned. Sometimes frigate birds and other sea birds were snared. |
| 9616 |
Brown, hungry and thirsty, half out of his head from weakness and suffering, could lie among the rocks with equanimity and listen to the tinkling of ukuleles and guitars, and the hulas and himines of the Huahine women. But when the voices of the Trinity Choir floated over the water he was beside himself. |
| 9617 |
Tehaa had caught a shark, and Mauriri had captured a fair sized octopus at the base of the crevice where the dynamite was stored. Then, too, in the darkness they had made two successful swims for water before the tiger sharks had nosed them out. "Said he'd like to come in and talk with you," Brown said. |
| 9618 |
The first warning was the firing of rifles from the peninsula, where Brown and his two Raiateans signalled the retreat and followed the besiegers through the jungle to the beach. From the eyrie on the face of the rock Grief could see nothing for another hour, when the Rattler appeared, making for the passage. |
| 9619 |
The Queen, old woman that she was, but an islander, turned over, swam down to him, and held him up as she struck out for the unsubmerged cross trees. Five heads, blond and brown, were mingled with the dark heads of Polynesia that dotted the surface. Grief, rifle in hand, watched for a chance to shoot. |
| 9620 |
But to the Raiatean sailors, big and brawny, half fish, was the vengeance given. Swimming swiftly, they singled out the blond heads and the brown. Those from above watched the four surviving desperadoes, clutched and locked, dragged far down beneath and drowned like curs. In ten minutes everything was over. |
| 9621 |
I remember six years ago, when I landed there in the British cruiser. The niggers cleared out for the bush, of course, but we found several who couldn't get away. One was his latest wife. She had been hung up by one arm in the sun for two days and nights. We cut her down, but she died just the same. |
| 9622 |
And staked out in the fresh running water, up to their necks, were three more women. All their bones were broken and their joints crushed. The process is supposed to make them tender for the eating. They were still alive. Their vitality was remarkable. One woman, the oldest, lingered nearly ten days. |
| 9623 |
Four times the missionary societies had essayed the peaceful conquest of the island, and four times, between sickness and massacre, they had been driven away, More cruisers, more pacifications, had followed, and followed fruitlessly. The cannibals had always retreated into the bush and laughed at the screaming shells. |
| 9624 |
The group swayed back and forth. Such exertion, in the stagnant heat, brought the sweat out on all of them. The black sweated, too, but his was the sweat of excruciating pain. The chair on which he sat was overturned. Captain Ward paused in the act of pouring himself a drink, and called encouragement. |
| 9625 |
Nor did any of them notice the little black man who limped up the steps and stood looking on. Koho was a conservative. His fathers before him had worn no clothes, and neither did he, not even a gee string. The many empty perforations in nose and lips and ears told of decorative passions long since dead. |
| 9626 |
Suspended from the belt was his bamboo betel nut and lime box. In his hand was a short barrelled, large bore Snider rifle. He was indescribably filthy, and here and there marred by scars, the worst being the one left by the Lee Enfield bullet, which had withered the calf to half the size of its mate. |
| 9627 |
His shrunken mouth showed that few teeth were left to serve him. Face and body were shrunken and withered, but his black, bead like eyes, small and close together, were very bright, withal they were restless and querulous, and more like a monkey's than a man's. He looked on, grinning like a shrewd little ape. |
| 9628 |
When the tooth parted from its locked hold in the jaw and the forceps raked across the other teeth and out of the mouth with a nerve rasping sound, old Koho's eyes fairly sparkled, and he looked with glee at the poor black, collapsed on the veranda floor and groaning terribly as he held his head in both his hands. |
| 9629 |
Later, when he led his naked warriors down to the destruction of the German plantation, he was wiser, and he appropriated all the liquors for his sole use. The result had been a gorgeous mixed drunk, on a dozen different sorts of drink, ranging from beer doctored with quinine to absinthe and apricot brandy. |
| 9630 |
But the liquids from bottles, the cool flaming youth givers and warm glowing dream makers. No wonder the white men valued them so highly and refused to dispense them. "Rum he good fella," he repeated over and over, plaintively and with the weary patience of age. And then Denby made his mistake and played his joke. |
| 9631 |
He stood beside the companionway and listened. After several moments the silence below was broken by a fearful, wheezing, propulsive, strangling cough. He smiled to himself and returned leisurely down the companionway. The bottle was back on the shelf where it belonged, and the old man sat in the same position. |
| 9632 |
An ordinary man would have coughed and strangled for half an hour. But old Koho's face was grimly composed. It dawned on him that a trick had been played, and into his eyes came an expression of hatred and malignancy so primitive, so abysmal, that it sent the chills up and down Denby's spine. Koho arose proudly. |
| 9633 |
As Wallenstein worked, he glanced through the window and saw Koho coming up the compound path. He was limping very rapidly, but when he came along the veranda and entered the room his gait was slow and dignified. He sat down and watched the gun cleaning, Though mouth and lips and tongue were afire, he gave no sign. |
| 9634 |
The big plantation bell was ringing wildly as the German Resident ran down the beach, and he could see whaleboats hastily putting off from the schooner. Barracks and boat houses, grass thatched and like tinder, were wrapped in flames. Grief emerged from the kitchen, carrying a naked black child by the leg. |
| 9635 |
Not a stone stands on another at the landing pier. The houses are black ashes. Every tree is hacked down, and the wild pigs are rooting out the yams and sweet potatoes. Those boys from New Georgia, a fine bunch they were, five score of them, and they cost you a pretty penny. Not one is left to tell the tale. |
| 9636 |
Put her under easy sail and let her work to windward on two hour legs. It's thickening up, and I don't imagine we can get a star observation to night; so we'll just hold our weather position, get a latitude sight to morrow, and run Leu Leu down on her own latitude. That's the way all the old navigators did. |
| 9637 |
The native sailors formed in anxious groups amidships and for'ard, where they talked in low voices and gazed apprehensively at the ominous sky and the equally ominous sea that breathed in long, low, oily undulations. "Looks like petroleum mixed with castor oil," the mate grumbled, as he spat his disgust overside. |
| 9638 |
Their long slopes, shielded somewhat from the full fury of the wind, were broken by systems of smaller whitecapping waves, but from the high crests of the big waves themselves the wind tore the whitecaps in the forming. This spume drove masthead high, and higher, horizontally, above the surface of the sea. |
| 9639 |
He found himself in a self evident woman's bedroom. Across it, he peered through a wire mesh door into a screened and darkened sleeping porch. On a couch lay a woman asleep. In the soft light she seemed remarkably beautiful in a dark Spanish way. By her side, opened and face downward, a novel lay on a chair. |
| 9640 |
From the colour in her cheeks, Grief concluded that she had not been long in the tropics. After the one glimpse he stole softly back, in time to see Snow entering the living room through the other door. By the naked arm he was clutching an age wrinkled black who grinned in fear and made signs of dumbness. |
| 9641 |
They were just boarding the boats when he arrived, and it struck him that for Kanakas they behaved more like chain gang prisoners. The three white men were there, and Grief noted that each carried a rifle. Hall greeted him jovially enough, but Gorman and Watson scowled as they grunted curt good mornings. |
| 9642 |
I know pearls a bit. Take that biggest one. It's perfect. Not a cent less than five thousand dollars. Some multimillionaire will pay double that some day, when the dealers have taken their whack. And never minding the seed pearls, you've got quarts of baroques there. And baroques are coming into fashion. |
| 9643 |
Guvutu, over in the Solomons, claims that it drinks between drinks. Goboto does not deny this. It merely states, in passing, that in the Goboton chronology no such interval of time is known. It also points out its import statistics, which show a far larger per capita consumption of spiritous liquors. |
| 9644 |
Guvutu explains this on the basis that Goboto does a larger business and has more visitors. Goboto retorts that its resident population is smaller and that its visitors are thirstier. And the discussion goes on interminably, principally because of the fact that the disputants do not live long enough to settle it. |
| 9645 |
The island is only a quarter of a mile in diameter, and on it are situated an admiralty coal shed (where a few tons of coal have lain untouched for twenty years), the barracks for a handful of black labourers, a big store and warehouse with sheet iron roofs, and a bungalow inhabited by the manager and his two clerks. |
| 9646 |
They are the white population. An average of one man out of the three is always to be found down with fever. The job at Goboto is a hard one. It is the policy of the company to treat its patrons well, as invading companies have found out, and it is the task of the manager and clerks to do the treating. |
| 9647 |
He was a remittance man with a remarkable constitution, and he lasted seven years. His dying request was duly observed by his clerks, who pickled him in a cask of trade rum (paid for out of their own salaries) and shipped him back to his people in England. Nevertheless, at Goboto, they tried to be gentlemen. |
| 9648 |
Also, he was better educated than any man there, spoke better English as well as several other tongues, and knew and lived more of their own ideals of gentlemanness than they did themselves. And, finally, he was a gentle soul. Violence he deprecated, though he had killed men in his time. Turbulence he abhorred. |
| 9649 |
I've not finished. You've talked frequently of action this evening. There's no action in betting away what you've never sweated for. The money you've lost to me was left you by your father or some other relative who did the sweating. But two years of work as trader on Karo Karo would mean something. |
| 9650 |
Not only was Tui Tulifau every inch a king, but he was every second a king. When he had ruled fifty eight years and five months, he was only fifty eight years and three months old. That is to say, he had ruled over five million seconds more than he had breathed, having been crowned two months before he was born. |
| 9651 |
But this was not unusual for Polynesian "chief stock." Sepeli, his queen, was six feet three inches and weighed two hundred and sixty, while her brother, Uiliami, who commanded the army in the intervals of resignation from the premiership, topped her by an inch and notched her an even half hundredweight. |
| 9652 |
It was a cool, starlight evening, and they lolled about the poop waiting till their snail's pace would bring them to the anchorage. Willie Smee, the supercargo, emerged from the cabin, conspicuous in his shore clothes. The mate glanced at his shirt, of the finest and whitest silk, and giggled significantly. |
| 9653 |
Grief held steadily along the Broom Road, which curved and twisted through a lush growth of flowers and fern like algarobas. The warm air was rich with perfume, and overhead, outlined against the stars, were fruit burdened mangoes, stately avocado trees, and slender tufted palms. Every here and there were grass houses. |
| 9654 |
Educated by the missionaries, as lay teacher he had served their cause well over in the cannibal atolls to the westward. As a reward, he had been sent to the paradise of Fitu Iva, where all were or had been good converts, to gather in the backsliders. Unfortunately, Ieremia had become too well educated. |
| 9655 |
What was the use of trying to understand this vastly complicated and enigmatical world, especially when one was married to a nagging woman? As Ieremia slackened in his labours, the mission board threatened louder and louder to send him back to the atolls, while his wife's tongue grew correspondingly sharper. |
| 9656 |
He has kept him very drunk all the time. In return, he has been made Chancellor of the Exchequer and other things. He has issued this false paper and compelled the people to receive it. He has levied a store tax, a copra tax, and a tobacco tax. There are harbour dues and regulations, and other taxes. |
| 9657 |
The king, surrounded by half a dozen chiefs, lay on mats under the shade of the avocados in the palace compound. Early as was the hour, palace maids were industriously serving squarefaces of gin. The king was glad to see his old friend Davida, and regretful that he had run foul of the new regulations. |
| 9658 |
For the personal crimes of the defendant, consisting of violent and turbulent conduct and notorious disregard of the laws of the realm, he is fined in the sum of one hundred pounds sterling and fifteen cases of gin. I will not ask you if you have anything to say. But will you pay? That is the question. |
| 9659 |
There is no fish in the palace. Yams and sweet potatoes seem to have fled from the soil, for they come not. The mountain dwellers have sent no wild goat in a week. Though Feathers of the Sun compels the traders to buy copra at the old price, the people sell not, for they will have none of the paper money. |
| 9660 |
Tui Tulifau, with Sepeli at his side and surrounded by his convivial chiefs, sat at the head of the council in the big compound. His right eye and jaw were swollen as if he too had engaged in assaulting somebody's fist. It was palace gossip that morning that Sepeli had administered a conjugal beating. |
| 9661 |
Bereft of his spectacles, he peered short sightedly across at the Chancellor of the Exchequer. In turn, the talking man of the windward coast, the talking man of the leeward coast, and the talking man of the mountain villages, each backed by his group of lesser talking men and chiefs, arose and made oration. |
| 9662 |
What they said was much the same. They grumbled about the paper money. Affairs were not prosperous. No more copra was being smoked. The people were suspicious. To such a pass had things come that all people wanted to pay their debts and no one wanted to be paid. Creditors made a practice of running away from debtors. |
| 9663 |
The money was cheap. Prices were going up and commodities were getting scarce. It cost three times the ordinary price to buy a fowl, and then it was tough and like to die of old age if not immediately sold. The outlook was gloomy. There were signs and omens. There was a plague of rats in some districts. |
| 9664 |
The custard apples were small. The best bearing avocado on the windward coast had mysteriously shed all its leaves. The taste had gone from the mangoes. The plantains were eaten by a worm. The fish had forsaken the ocean and vast numbers of tiger sharks appeared. The wild goats had fled to inaccessible summits. |
| 9665 |
There were rumblings in the mountains, night walking of spirits; a woman of Punta Puna had been struck speechless, and a five legged she goat had been born in the village of Eiho. And that all was due to the strange money of Fulualea was the firm conviction of the elders in the village councils assembled. |
| 9666 |
Uiliami spoke for the army. His men were discontented and mutinous. Though by royal decree the traders were bidden accept the money, yet did they refuse it. He would not say, but it looked as if the strange money of Fulualea had something to do with it. Ieremia, as talking man of the traders, next spoke. |
| 9667 |
He enlarged on the incomparable virtues of rifles, axes, and steel fishhooks, down through needles, thread and cotton fish lines to white flour and kerosene oil. He expounded at length, with firstlies and secondlies and all minor subdivisions of argument, on organization, and order, and civilization. |
| 9668 |
Ieremia was right so far as concerned the manifold blessings of white flour and kerosene oil. Fitu Iva did not want to become kai kanak. Fitu Iva wanted civilization; it wanted more and more civilization. Now that was the very point, and they must follow him closely. Paper money was an earmark of higher civilization. |
| 9669 |
He had not expected such a sum, and everywhere about the council his uneasy eyes showed him chiefs and talking men drawing out bundles of notes. The army, its two months' pay in its hands, pressed forward to the edge of the council, while behind it the populace, with more money, invaded the compound. |
| 9670 |
You begin to glimpse the situation. The best and most aristocratic convent in France was none too good for the only daughter of a Paumotan island king and capitalist, and you know the old country French draw no colour line. She was educated like a princess, and she accepted herself in much the same way. |
| 9671 |
She did, French fashion, make the initial calls on the Governor and the port doctor. They saw her, but neither of their hen wives was at home to her nor returned the call. She was out of caste, without caste, though she had never dreamed it, and that was the gentle way they broke the information to her. |
| 9672 |
For eighteen years he'd centred everything on Armande. Half the time he believes she's still alive, not yet come back from France. That's one of the reasons he held on to the pearls. And all the time he hates white men. He never forgets they killed her, though a great deal of the time he forgets she's dead. |
| 9673 |
The Malahini's sailors sprang into the rigging and jeered as they went by; the little cutter heeled over by the wind with a bone in her teeth, going backward on the tide. "Some engine that of ours," Grief approved, as the lagoon opened before them and the course was changed across it to the anchorage. |
| 9674 |
For some minutes they gazed on the strange sight and talked in low voices, and in those few minutes it was manifest to all that the waves were increasing in size. It was uncanny, this rising sea in a dead calm, and their voices unconsciously sank lower. Old Parlay shocked them with his abrupt cackle. |
| 9675 |
The native servants, with bottles of whiskey and absinthe in their hands, shrank together as if for protection and stared with fear through the windows at the mighty wash of the wave lapping far up the beach to the corner of a copra shed. Parlay looked at the barometer, giggled, and leered around at his guests. |
| 9676 |
Whaleboat after whaleboat was being hurriedly manned and shoved off. It had grown still darker. The stagnant calm continued, and the sand shook under their feet with each buffet of the sea on the outer shore. Narii Herring walked leisurely along the sand. He grinned at the very evident haste of the captains and buyers. |
| 9677 |
A flying film, strangely marked, seemed drawing over the surface of the lagoon. Abreast of it, along the atoll, travelling with equal speed, was a stiff bending of the cocoanut palms and a blur of flying leaves. The front of the wind on the water was a solid, sharply defined strip of dark coloured, wind vexed water. |
| 9678 |
Then her chains brought her up, bow on to the wind, with an astonishing jerk. Schooner after schooner, the Malahini with them, was now sweeping away with the first gust and fetching up on taut chains. Mulhall and several of the Kanakas were taken off their feet when the Malahini jerked to her anchors. |
| 9679 |
The sea, white with fury, boiled in tiny, spitting wavelets. The deck of the Malahini vibrated under the men's feet. The taut stretched halyards beat a tattoo against the masts, and all the rigging, as if smote by some mighty hand, set up a wild thrumming. It was impossible to face the wind and breathe. |
| 9680 |
The Roberta, cleared of her anchors, with a patch of tarpaulin set for'ard, was heading for the passage at the northwestern end of the lagoon. They saw her make it and drive out to sea. But the Misi and Cactus, unable to get clear of each other, went ashore on the atoll half a mile from the passage. |
| 9681 |
The wind merely increased on itself and continued to increase. To face the full blast of it required all one's strength, and several minutes of crawling on deck against it tired a man to exhaustion. Hermann, with his Kanakas, plodded steadily, lashing and making secure, putting ever more gaskets on the sails. |
| 9682 |
On the other hand, she was unable to get any slack in the chains. The best her forty horsepower could do was to ease the strain. Still the wind increased. The little Nuhiva, lying abreast of the Malahini and closer in to the beach, her engine still unrepaired and her captain ashore, was having a bad time of it. |
| 9683 |
She buried herself so frequently and so deeply that they wondered each time if she could clear herself of the water. At three in the afternoon buried by a second sea before she could free herself of the preceding one, she did not come up. Mulhall looked at Grief. "Burst in her hatches," was the bellowed answer. |
| 9684 |
Her for'ard bitts, foremast, and most of her bow were gone, having been jerked out of her by her anchors. She swung broadside, rolling in the trough and settling by the head, and in this plight was swept away to leeward. Five vessels now remained, and of them the Malahini was the only one with an engine. |
| 9685 |
Naked to the waist, covered with grease and oil, bruised and skinned from being knocked about by the plunging, jumping vessel, his head swimming from the mixture of gas and air he was compelled to breathe, he laboured on hour after hour, in turns petting, blessing, nursing, and cursing the engine and all its parts. |
| 9686 |
The ignition began to go bad. The feed grew worse. And worst of all, the cylinders began to heat. In a consultation held in the cabin the half caste engineer begged and pleaded to stop the engine for half an hour in order to cool it and to attend to the water circulation. Captain Warfield was against any stopping. |
| 9687 |
The half caste swore that the engine would ruin itself and stop anyway and for good. Grief, with glaring eyes, greasy and battered, yelled and cursed them both down and issued commands. Mulhall, the supercargo, and Hermann were set to work in the cabin at double straining and triple straining the gasoline. |
| 9688 |
He joined the others, who crouched behind the cabin, holding on with their hands and made doubly secure by rope lashings. It was a complicated huddle, for it was the only place of refuge for the Kanakas. Some of them had accepted the skipper's invitation into the cabin but had been driven out by the fumes. |
| 9689 |
Captain Warfield untied his lashings and made his way over the bodies of the others. When his face became visible in the light from the binnacle it was working with anger. They could see him speak, but the wind tore the sound away. He would not put his lips to Narii's ear. Instead, he pointed over the side. |
| 9690 |
Narii made a bravado attempt to walk to the rail, but was flung down by the wind. Thereafter he crawled, disappearing in the darkness, though there was certitude in all of them that he had gone over the side. The Malahini dived deep, and when they emerged from the flood that swept aft, Grief got Mulhall's ear. |
| 9691 |
The old familiar roar of the wind was with them. The Malahini, caught broadside, was pressed down almost on her beam ends as she swung the arc compelled by her anchors. They rounded her into the wind, where she jerked to an even keel. The propeller was thrown on, and the engine took up its work again. |
| 9692 |
For the space of three hundred yards, where the sea had breached, no tree or even stump was left. Here and there, farther along, stood an occasional palm, and there were numbers which had been snapped off above the ground. In the crown of one surviving palm Tai Hotauri asserted he saw something move. |
| 9693 |
The rear was brought up by a black boy of fourteen or fifteen, who carried medicine bottles, a pail of hot water, and various other hospital appurtenances. They passed out of the compound through a small wicker gate, and went on under the blazing sun, winding about among new planted cocoanuts that threw no shade. |
| 9694 |
There was not a breath of wind, and the superheated, stagnant air was heavy with pestilence. From the direction they were going arose a wild clamour, as of lost souls wailing and of men in torment. A long, low shed showed ahead, grass walled and grass thatched, and it was from here that the noise proceeded. |
| 9695 |
As the white man drew closer he could hear a low and continuous moaning and groaning. He shuddered at the thought of entering, and for a moment was quite certain that he was going to faint. For that most dreaded of Solomon Island scourges, dysentery, had struck Berande plantation, and he was all alone to cope with it. |
| 9696 |
A raised platform of forest slabs, six feet wide, with a slight pitch, extended the full length of the shed. Alongside of it was a yard wide run way. Stretched on the platform, side by side and crowded close, lay a score of blacks. That they were low in the order of human life was apparent at a glance. |
| 9697 |
Again he rode out into the reeking heat. He clutched the black's neck tightly, and drew a long breath; but the dead air seemed to shrivel his lungs, and he dropped his head and dozed till the house was reached. Every effort of will was torture, yet he was called upon continually to make efforts of will. |
| 9698 |
Viaburi, the house boy, brought him corrosive sublimate and water, and he took a thorough antiseptic wash. He dosed himself with chlorodyne, took his own pulse, smoked a thermometer, and lay back on the couch with a suppressed groan. It was mid afternoon, and he had completed his third round that day. |
| 9699 |
He managed to get into the chair, where he panted in a state of collapse. In a few minutes he roused himself. The boy held the end of the telescope against one of the veranda scantlings, while the man gazed through it at the sea. At last he picked up the white sails of the schooner and studied them. |
| 9700 |
Directly before him, across the twelve mile channel, lay Florida Island; and, farther to the right, dim in the distance, he could make out portions of Malaita the savage island, the abode of murder, and robbery, and man eating the place from which his own two hundred plantation hands had been recruited. |
| 9701 |
They were reared on artificial mounds of earth that were ten feet high. The base of each staff was surrounded by short posts, painted white and connected by heavy chains. The staffs themselves were like ships' masts, with topmasts spliced on in true nautical fashion, with shrouds, ratlines, gaffs, and flag halyards. |
| 9702 |
The man watched it, and knew that it was sick. He wondered idly if it felt as bad as he felt, and was feebly amused at the thought of kinship that somehow penetrated his fancy. He roused himself to order the great bell to be rung as a signal for the plantation hands to cease work and go to their barracks. |
| 9703 |
In the hospital were two new cases. To these he gave castor oil. He congratulated himself. It had been an easy day. Only three had died. He inspected the copra drying that had been going on, and went through the barracks to see if there were any sick lying hidden and defying his rule of segregation. |
| 9704 |
The boat's crew boss also he had in, to give assurance, as was the custom nightly, that the whale boats were hauled up and padlocked. This was a most necessary precaution, for the blacks were in a funk, and a whale boat left lying on the beach in the evening meant a loss of twenty blacks by morning. |
| 9705 |
Besides, whale boats were not cheap in the Solomons; and, also, the deaths were daily reducing the working capital. Seven blacks had fled into the bush the week before, and four had dragged themselves back, helpless from fever, with the report that two more had been killed and kai kai'd by the hospitable bushmen. |
| 9706 |
The seventh man was still at large, and was said to be working along the coast on the lookout to steal a canoe and get away to his own island. Viaburi brought two lighted lanterns to the white man for inspection. He glanced at them and saw that they were burning brightly with clear, broad flames, and nodded his head. |
| 9707 |
A creak on the back veranda was the cause. The room was L shaped; the corner in which stood his couch was dim, but the hanging lamp in the main part of the room, over the billiard table and just around the corner, so that it did not shine on him, was burning brightly. Likewise the verandas were well lighted. |
| 9708 |
Nothing stirred in the windless air. From the hospital still proceeded the moaning of the sick. In the grass thatched barracks nearly two hundred woolly headed man eaters slept off the weariness of the day's toil, though several lifted their heads to listen to the curses of one who cursed the white man who never slept. |
| 9709 |
That he was appreciably weaker there was no doubt, and there were other symptoms that were unfavourable. He began his rounds looking for trouble. He wanted trouble. In full health, the strained situation would have been serious enough; but as it was, himself growing helpless, something had to be done. |
| 9710 |
He regretted that he had not waited the night before until the prowlers had entered. Then he might have shot one or two and given the rest a new lesson, writ in red, for them to con. It was one man against two hundred, and he was horribly afraid of his sickness overpowering him and leaving him at their mercy. |
| 9711 |
The one man who came up the path, Sheldon recognized as Seelee, the chief of Balesuna village. The savage did not mount the steps, but stood beneath and talked to the white lord above. Seelee was more intelligent than the average of his kind, but his intelligence only emphasized the lowness of that kind. |
| 9712 |
His eyes, close together and small, advertised cruelty and craftiness. A gee string and a cartridge belt were all the clothes he wore. The carved pearl shell ornament that hung from nose to chin and impeded speech was purely ornamental, as were the holes in his ears mere utilities for carrying pipe and tobacco. |
| 9713 |
As he talked or listened, he made grimaces like a monkey. He said yes by dropping his eyelids and thrusting his chin forward. He spoke with childish arrogance strangely at variance with the subservient position he occupied beneath the veranda. He, with his many followers, was lord and master of Balesuna village. |
| 9714 |
But the white man, without followers, was lord and master of Berande ay, and on occasion, single handed, had made himself lord and master of Balesuna village as well. Seelee did not like to remember that episode. It had occurred in the course of learning the nature of white men and of learning to abominate them. |
| 9715 |
This had given him a glimpse of a profitable future, in which his village would serve as the one depot on the underground railway between Berande and Malaita. Unfortunately, he was ignorant of the ways of white men. This particular white man educated him by arriving at his grass house in the gray of dawn. |
| 9716 |
In addition to their ornaments of bead and shell and bone, their pierced ears and nostrils were burdened with safety pins, wire nails, metal hair pins, rusty iron handles of cooking utensils, and the patent keys for opening corned beef tins. Some wore penknives clasped on their kinky locks for safety. |
| 9717 |
Facing them, clinging to the railing of the veranda for support, stood the sick white man. Any one of them could have knocked him over with the blow of a little finger. Despite his firearms, the gang could have rushed him and delivered that blow, when his head and the plantation would have been theirs. |
| 9718 |
The black glanced around at his fellows, but none moved to aid him. They were intent upon the coming spectacle, staring fascinated at the white man with death in his hands who stood alone on the great veranda. Sheldon has won, and he knew it. Astoa changed his weight irresolutely from one foot to the other. |
| 9719 |
And right well Astoa laid on the whip, angered at his fellows for not supporting him and venting his anger with every stroke. From the veranda Sheldon egged him on to strike with strength, till the two triced savages screamed and howled while the blood oozed down their backs. The lesson was being well written in red. |
| 9720 |
Even those that were well were sure that it was only a mater of days when the sickness would catch them and carry them off. And yet, believing this with absolute conviction, they somehow lacked the nerve to rush the frail wraith of a man with the white skin and escape from the charnel house by the whale boats. |
| 9721 |
Dawn of the third day after the whipping brought the Jessie's white sails in sight. Eight miles away, it was not till two in the afternoon that the light air fans enabled her to drop anchor a quarter of a mile off the shore. The sight of her gave Sheldon fresh courage, and the tedious hours of waiting did not irk him. |
| 9722 |
Hughie Drummond, whom he had last seen in health, was an emaciated skeleton. His closed eyes were deep sunken. The shrivelled lips had fallen away from the teeth, and the cheek bones seemed bursting through the skin. Sheldon sent a house boy for his thermometer and glanced questioningly at the captain. |
| 9723 |
Some were sent into the woods to cut timber for house beams, others to cutting cane grass for thatching, and forty of them lifted a whale boat above their heads and carried it down to the sea. Sheldon had gritted his teeth, pulled his collapsing soul together, and taken Berande plantation into his fist once more. |
| 9724 |
He had burned out. Sheldon knelt beside him, the house boys grouped around, their white singlets and loin cloths peculiarly at variance with their dark skins and savage countenances, their huge ear plugs and carved and glistening nose rings. Sheldon tottered to his feet at last, and half fell into the steamer chair. |
| 9725 |
All he had to do was close his eyes and let go; for he had reached the stage where he lived by will alone. His weary body seemed torn by the oncoming pangs of dissolution. He was a fool to hang on. He had died a score of deaths already, and what was the use of prolonging it to two score deaths before he really died. |
| 9726 |
His weary flesh and weary spirit desired it, and why should the flame of him not go utterly out? But his mind that could will life or death, still pulsed on. He saw the two whale boats land on the beach, and the sick, on stretchers or pick a back, groaning and wailing, go by in lugubrious procession. |
| 9727 |
The Jessie was blotted out, and a strange ominous sound arose as multitudinous wavelets struck foaming on the beach. It was like the bubbling of some colossal cauldron. From all about could be heard the dull thudding of falling cocoanuts. The tall, delicate trunked trees twisted and snapped about like whip lashes. |
| 9728 |
Just before she rounded the point she was swallowed up in a terrific squall that far out blew the first. All that night, while squall after squall smote Berande, uprooting trees, overthrowing copra sheds, and rocking the house on its tall piles, Sheldon slept. He was unaware of the commotion. He never wakened. |
| 9729 |
Nor did he change his position or dream. He awoke, a new man. Furthermore, he was hungry. It was over a week since food had passed his lips. He drank a glass of condensed cream, thinned with water, and by ten o'clock he dared to take a cup of beef tea. He was cheered, also, by the situation in the hospital. |
| 9730 |
Despite the storm there had been but one death, and there was only one fresh case, while half a dozen boys crawled weakly away to the barracks. He wondered if it was the wind that was blowing the disease away and cleansing the pestilential land. By eleven a messenger arrived from Balesuna village, dispatched by Seelee. |
| 9731 |
As for the Jessie, from what they told him Sheldon could not but conclude that she was a total loss. Further to hearten him, he was taken by a shivering fit. In half an hour he was burning up. And he knew that at least another day must pass before he could undertake even the smallest dose of quinine. |
| 9732 |
A score of convalescents lingered in the hospital, but they were improving hourly. There had been but one more death that of the man whose brother had wailed over him instead of brushing the flies away. On the morning of the fourth day of his fever, Sheldon lay on the veranda, gazing dimly out over the raging ocean. |
| 9733 |
He knew that no whale boat should be out there, and he was quite certain no men in the Solomons were mad enough to be abroad in such a storm. But the hallucination persisted. A minute later, chancing to open his eyes, he saw the whale boat, full length, and saw right into it as it rose on the face of a wave. |
| 9734 |
A woman she was, for a braid of her hair was flying, and she was just in the act of recapturing it and stowing it away beneath a hat that for all the world was like his own «Baden Powell.» The boat disappeared behind the wave, and rose into view on the face of the following one. Again he looked into it. |
| 9735 |
At last, speaking to two of the men, who turned and followed her, she started up the path. Sheldon attempted to rise, got half up out of his chair, and fell back helplessly. He was surprised at the size of the men, who loomed like giants behind her. Both were six footers, and they were heavy in proportion. |
| 9736 |
He had never seen islanders like them. They were not black like the Solomon Islanders, but light brown; and their features were larger, more regular, and even handsome. The woman or girl, rather, he decided walked along the veranda toward him. The two men waited at the head of the steps, watching curiously. |
| 9737 |
The girl was angry; he could see that. Her gray eyes were flashing, and her lips were quivering. That she had a temper, was his thought. But the eyes were striking. He decided that they were not gray after all, or, at least, not all gray. They were large and wide apart, and they looked at him from under level brows. |
| 9738 |
His legs wobbled under him, and with a suffocating sensation he began sinking to the floor. He was aware of a feeble gratification as he saw solicitude leap into her eyes; then blackness smote him, and at the moment of smiting him his thought was that at last, and for the first time in his life, he had fainted. |
| 9739 |
The ringing of the big bell aroused him. He opened his eyes and found that he was on the couch indoors. A glance at the clock told him that it was six, and from the direction the sun's rays streamed into the room he knew that it was morning. At first he puzzled over something untoward he was sure had happened. |
| 9740 |
She it must have been who had just rung the bell. The cares of the plantation rushed upon him, and he sat up in bed, clutching at the wall for support as the mosquito screen lurched dizzily around him. He was still sitting there, holding on, with eyes closed, striving to master his giddiness, when he heard her voice. |
| 9741 |
The bullet emitted a sharp shriek as it ricochetted into space. The metal block rattled back and forth. Again and again she fired, till the clip was emptied of its eight cartridges. Six of them were hits. The block still swayed at the gaff end, but it was battered out of all usefulness. Sheldon was astonished. |
| 9742 |
You see, they didn't have any wives, and they made chums out of us when our tasks were done. We had to learn to do everything about the house twice as well as the native servants did it that was so that we should know how to manage some day. And we always made the cocktails, which was too holy a rite for any servant. |
| 9743 |
Dad had practically nothing left, and he decided to return to the sea. He'd always loved it, and I half believe that he was glad things had happened as they did. He was like a boy again, busy with plans and preparations from morning till night. He used to sit up half the night talking things over with me. |
| 9744 |
The shipwrights were giving it to him rent free. Fruit, vegetables, fish, meat, and ice came to this house every day, and he paid for none of it. It was part of his graft from the various merchants. And all the while, with tears in his eyes, he bemoaned the vile treatment I was receiving from the gang. |
| 9745 |
He had a master's certificate, and was on the ship's papers as captain, but I was a better navigator than he, and I was really captain myself. I lost her, too, but it's no reflection on my seamanship. We were drifting four days outside there in dead calms. Then the nor'wester caught us and drove us on the lee shore. |
| 9746 |
And she was so slenderly and prettily the woman the girl, rather that it cut him like a knife to see her, with quick, comprehensive eyes and sharply imperative voice, superintend the launching of the whale boat through the surf. In imagination he could see her roping a horse, and it always made him shudder. |
| 9747 |
Then, too, she was so many sided. Her knowledge of literature and art surprised him, while deep down was the feeling that a girl who knew such things had no right to know how to rig tackles, heave up anchors, and sail schooners around the South Seas. Such things in her brain were like so many oaths on her lips. |
| 9748 |
Not since he was a boy had it appealed to him though it would have driven him hard to explain what had brought him from England to the Solomons if it had not been adventure. Sheldon certainly was not happy. The unconventional state of affairs was too much for his conservative disposition and training. |
| 9749 |
I never allow what can't be changed to annoy me. There is no use in fighting the inevitable. Here is the situation. You are here. I am here. I can't go elsewhere, by your own account. You certainly can't go elsewhere and leave me here alone with a whole plantation and two hundred woolly cannibals on my hands. |
| 9750 |
She taught Sheldon the superiority of cocoanut cream over condensed cream, for use in coffee. From the old and sprouting nuts she took the solid, spongy centres and turned them into salads. Her forte seemed to be salads, and she astonished him with the deliciousness of a salad made from young bamboo shoots. |
| 9751 |
Wild tomatoes, which had gone to seed or been remorselessly hoed out from the beginning of Berande, were foraged for salads, soups, and sauces. The chickens, which had always gone into the bush and hidden their eggs, were given laying bins, and Joan went out herself to shoot wild duck and wild pigeons for the table. |
| 9752 |
She robbed the windows of their lawn and muslin curtains, replacing them with gaudy calico from the trade store, and made herself several gowns. When she wrote out a list of goods and clothing for herself, to be sent down to Sydney by the first steamer, Sheldon wondered how long she had made up her mind to stay. |
| 9753 |
Next morning, Joan and Sheldon, at breakfast, were aroused by a swelling murmur of angry voices. The first rule of Berande had been broken. The compound had been entered without permission or command, and all the two hundred labourers, with the exception of the boss boys, were guilty of the offence. |
| 9754 |
The sight unnerved him as the row just over could not possibly have done. A woman in tears was to him an embarrassing situation; and when that woman was Joan Lackland, from whom he had grown to expect anything unexpected, he was really frightened. He glanced down at her helplessly, and moistened his lips. |
| 9755 |
If you are kind to them, they think you are a fool. If you are gentle with them they think you are afraid. And when they think you are afraid, watch out, for they will get you. Just to show you, let me state the one invariable process in a black man's brain when, on his native heath, he encounters a stranger. |
| 9756 |
He could sign him on for ten years did the law permit. Well, that's the gang of murderers we've got on our hands now. Of course some are dead, some have been killed, and there are others serving sentences at Tulagi. Very little clearing did those first owners do, and less planting. It was war all the time. |
| 9757 |
The other was speared on two different occasions. Both were bullies, wherefore there was a streak of cowardice in them, and in the end they had to give up. They were chased away literally chased away by their own niggers. And along came poor Hughie and me, two new chums, to take hold of that hard bitten gang. |
| 9758 |
And besides, our pride was involved. We had started out to do something, and we were so made that we just had to go on with it. It has been a hard fight, for we were, and are to this day, considered the worst plantation in the Solomons from the standpoint of labour. Do you know, we have been unable to get white men in. |
| 9759 |
We've got a bad crowd, and we're making them work. You've been over the plantation and you ought to know. And I assure you that there are no better three and four years old trees on any other plantation in the Solomons. We have worked steadily to change matters for the better. We've been slowly getting in new labour. |
| 9760 |
Yet the hardness was there, and it was what enabled him to run his ketch single handed and to wring a livelihood out of the fighting Solomons. Joan's unexpected presence embarrassed him, until she herself put him at his ease by a frank, comradely manner that offended Sheldon's sense of the fitness of things feminine. |
| 9761 |
Fifteen boys had stolen rifles and run away into the bush from Lunga plantation, which was farther east on the Guadalcanar coast. And from the bush they had sent word that they were coming back to wipe out the three white men in charge, while two of the three white men, in turn, were hunting them through the bush. |
| 9762 |
At the same instant, the Suu gang that was on board the Minerva jumped Young. He was just preparing a dynamite stick for fish, and he lighted it and tossed it in amongst them. One can't get him to talk about it, but the fuse was short, the survivors leaped overboard, while he slipped his anchor and got away. |
| 9763 |
I doubt if ever there was a worse run of sickness than we were just getting over when you arrived. Just as luck would have it, the Jessie caught the contagion as well. Berande has been very unfortunate. All the old timers shake their heads at it. They say it has what you Americans call a hoodoo on it. |
| 9764 |
He was unable to forget the torment of his puppyhood, wherein everlasting hatred of the black had been woven into the fibres of consciousness; and such a terror did he make himself that Sheldon was forced to shut him up in the living room when, for any reason, strange natives were permitted in the compound. |
| 9765 |
All I'll have to do is to keep the weeds hoed until the trees come into bearing. First, I'll buy the island; next, get forty or fifty recruits and start clearing and planting; and at the same time I'll run up a bungalow; and then you'll be relieved of my embarrassing presence now don't say that it isn't. |
| 9766 |
In the body of her she was woman; in the mind of her she had not grown up. She had not been exposed to ripening influences of that sort. She had had no mother. Von, her father, native servants, and rough island life had constituted her training. Horses and rifles had been her toys, camp and trail her nursery. |
| 9767 |
That explained her chafe at petticoats, her revolt at what was only decently conventional. Some day she would grow up, but as yet she was only in the process. Well, there was only one thing for him to do. He must meet her on her own basis of boyhood, and not make the mistake of treating her as a woman. |
| 9768 |
He wondered if he could love the woman she would be when her nature awoke; and he wondered if he could love her just as she was and himself wake her up. After all, whatever it was, she had come to fill quite a large place in his life, as he had discovered that afternoon while scanning the sea between the squalls. |
| 9769 |
What was to prevent them from dragging her down if they so willed? Then she remembered that one cry of hers would fetch Noa Noah and her remaining sailors, each one of whom was worth a dozen blacks in a struggle. As she opened the gate, one of the boys stepped up to her. In the darkness she could not make him out. |
| 9770 |
It looked as if Sheldon had been right after all. Aroa waited stolidly. A leaping fish splashed far out on the water. A tiny wavelet murmured sleepily on the beach. The shadow of a flying fox drifted by in velvet silence overhead. A light air fanned coolly on her cheek; it was the land breeze beginning to blow. |
| 9771 |
Her revolver was hanging on the wall of her grass house. Yet one cry would bring her sailors, and she knew she was safe. So she did not cry for help. Instead, she whistled for Satan, at the same time calling him by name. She knew he was shut up in the living room, but the blacks did not wait to see. |
| 9772 |
They fled with wild yells through the darkness, followed reluctantly by Gogoomy; while she entered the bungalow, laughing at first, but finally vexed to the verge of tears by what had taken place. She had sat up a whole night with the boy who had died, and yet his brother demanded to be paid for his life. |
| 9773 |
Joan was rummaging in the store room, and Sheldon was taking his siesta in a hammock on the veranda. He awoke gently. In some occult, subtle way a warning that all was not well had penetrated his sleep and aroused him. Without moving, he glanced down and saw the ground beneath covered with armed savages. |
| 9774 |
He slipped from the hammock and with deliberate slowness sauntered to the railing, where he yawned sleepily and looked down on them. It came to him curiously that it was his destiny ever to stand on this high place, looking down on unending hordes of black trouble that required control, bullying, and cajolery. |
| 9775 |
The Tahitians had evidently gone shooting fish up the Balesuna. He was all alone in his high place above this trouble, while his world slumbered peacefully under the breathless tropic noon. Nobody replied, and he repeated his demand, more of mastery in his voice this time, and a hint of growing anger. |
| 9776 |
But not one spoke. All eyes, however, were staring at him in certitude of expectancy. Something was about to happen, and they were waiting for it, waiting with the unanimous, unstable mob mind for the one of them who would make the first action that would precipitate all of them into a common action. |
| 9777 |
Rifles and spears were dropped or flung aside in a wild scramble for the protection of the cocoanut palms. Satan multiplied himself. Never had he been free to tear and rend such a quantity of black flesh before, and he bit and snapped and rushed the flying legs till the last pair were above his head. |
| 9778 |
The house boys were directed to fetch handcuffs, and, one by one, the Lunga runaways were haled down out of their trees and made fast. Sheldon ironed them in pairs, and ran a steel chain through the links of the irons. Gogoomy was given a lecture for his mutinous conduct and locked up for the afternoon. |
| 9779 |
The conversation was on general topics; but Joan could not help noticing the troubled, absent expression that occasionally came into Sheldon's eyes. After coffee, she left them; and at midnight, from across the compound, she could hear the low murmur of their voices and see glowing the fiery ends of their cigars. |
| 9780 |
You can make your arrangements accordingly, and have plenty of work for her when I get back. I'm going to become a partner in Berande to the extent of my bag of sovereigns I've got over fifteen hundred of them, you know. We'll draw up an agreement right now that is, with your permission, and I know you won't refuse it. |
| 9781 |
That is the very point. The facts always smash youth's logic, and they usually smash youth's heart, too. It's like platonic friendships and... and all such things; they are all right in theory, but they won't work in practice. I used to believe in such things once. That is why I am here in the Solomons at present. |
| 9782 |
He looked at her flushed, eager face, at the great ropes of hair coiled on the small head, at the rounded lines of the figure showing plainly through the home made gown, and at the eyes boy's eyes, under cool, level brows and he wondered why a being that was so much beautiful woman should be no woman at all. |
| 9783 |
He got to his feet, lighted a cigarette, and her Stetson hat, hanging on the wall over her revolver belt, caught his eye. That was the devil of it, too. He did not want her to go. After all, she had not grown up yet. That was why her logic hurt. It was only the logic of youth, but it could hurt damnably at times. |
| 9784 |
He sighed heavily. But why in reasonableness had such a child been incorporated in such a woman's form? And as he continued to stare at her hat and think, the hurt he had received passed away, and he found himself cudgelling his brains for some way out of the muddle for some method by which she could remain on Berande. |
| 9785 |
On the veranda that afternoon he broached the proposition of a chaperone as delicately as he could, explaining the necessity at Berande for such a body, a housekeeper to run the boys and the storeroom, and perform divers other useful functions. When he had finished, he waited anxiously for what Joan would say. |
| 9786 |
And yet I was the only woman on board. There are only three things I am afraid of bumble bees, scarlet fever, and chaperones. Ugh! the clucking, evil minded monsters, finding wrong in everything, seeing sin in the most innocent actions, and suggesting sin yes, causing sin by their diseased imaginings. |
| 9787 |
She was to go to Sydney on the first steamer, purchase the schooner, and sail back with an island skipper on board. And then she inveigled Sheldon into agreeing that she could take occasional cruises in the islands, though he was adamant when it came to a recruiting trip on Malaita. That was the one thing barred. |
| 9788 |
He had never read of anything to compare with it. The fictionists, as usual, were exceeded by fact. The whole thing was too preposterous to be true. He gnawed his moustache and smoked cigarette after cigarette. Satan, back from a prowl around the compound, ran up to him and touched his hand with a cold, damp nose. |
| 9789 |
But to return to the boys. We can't spare them, and besides, they would be of little use. You couldn't get them to accompany you beyond Binu, which is a short day's work with the boats from here. They are Malaita men, and they are afraid of being eaten. They would desert you at the first opportunity. |
| 9790 |
They never come down to the coast, though their scouting parties occasionally eat a coast native who has wandered too far inland. Nobody knows anything about them. They don't even use tobacco have never learned its use. The Austrian expedition scientists, you know got part way in before it was cut to pieces. |
| 9791 |
Why shouldn't her eyes brighten? What concern was it of his? A second boat had been lowered, and the outfit of the shore party was landed rapidly. A dozen of the crew put the knocked down boats together on the beach. There were five of these craft lean and narrow, with flaring sides, and remarkably long. |
| 9792 |
Tudor had always been a wanderer, and with facile wit and quick vivid description he leaped from episode and place to episode and place, relating his experiences seemingly not because they were his, but for the sake of their bizarreness and uniqueness, for the unusual incident or the laughable situation. |
| 9793 |
This merely incensed the huge, magnificent creature. He rumbled a low, tense growl, flattened his ears back, and soared into the air, his paws spread so that the claws stood out like talons, his tail behind him as stiff and straight as a rod. Neither did the man crouch or flee, nor did the beast attain to him. |
| 9794 |
His pain was exquisite, especially that of his tender nose. And the creature who inflicted the pain was as fierce and terrible as he, even more so because he was more intelligent. In but few minutes, dazed by the pain, appalled by his inability to rend and destroy the man who inflicted it, Ben Bolt lost his courage. |
| 9795 |
Mulcachy ordered an assistant to enter the arena with him. Since he could not compel the tiger directly to sit in the chair, he must employ other means. The rope about Ben Bolt's neck was passed up through the bars and rove through the block and tackle. At signal from Mulcachy, the ten men hauled away. |
| 9796 |
The sight of him, so sitting, tragically travestying man, has been considered, and is considered, "educative" by multitudinous audiences. The second case, that of St. Elias, was a harder one, and it was marked down against Mulcachy as one of his rare failures, though all admitted that it was an unavoidable failure. |
| 9797 |
And in the trained animal world, where turns must go off like clockwork, is little or no space for persuasion. An animal must do its turn, and do it promptly. Audiences will not brook the delay of waiting while a trainer tries to persuade a crusty or roguish beast to do what the audience has paid to see it do. |
| 9798 |
Noosed in the customary way, his four legs dragged through the bars, and his head, by means of a "choke" collar, drawn against the bars, he was first of all manicured. Each one of his great claws was cut off flush with his flesh. The men outside did this. Then Mulcachy, on the inside, punched his nose. |
| 9799 |
Mulcachy knew the bear business. At all times, to make an untrained bear obey, one must be fast to some sensitive portion of the bear. The ears, the nose, and the eyes are the accessible sensitive parts, and, the eyes being out of the question, remain the nose and the ears as the parts to which to make fast. |
| 9800 |
It certainly was not a thing persuasible. It was living fire. And he tore at it with his paws as he would have torn at the stings of bees when raiding a honey tree. He tore the thing out, ripping the ring clear through the flesh and transforming the round perforation into a ragged chasm of pain. Mulcachy cursed. |
| 9801 |
As before, the moment he was released, he tore the ring out through his flesh. Mulcachy was disgusted. "Listen to reason, won't you?" he objurgated, as, this time, the reason he referred to was the introduction of the ring clear through both nostrils, higher up, and through the central dividing wall of cartilage. |
| 9802 |
The two burnt cork comedians finished their turn and their three encores, and the curtain behind them went up on a full set of an empty stage. A rough coated Irish terrier entered at a sedate walk, sedately walked forward to the centre, nearly to the footlights, and faced the leader of the orchestra. |
| 9803 |
And Michael did so think. As a matter of course, through that open door, he was prepared to have the South Pacific Ocean flow in, bearing on its bosom schooners and ships, islands and reefs, and all men and animals and things he once had known and still remembered. But no past flowed in through the door. |
| 9804 |
So that trees and hills and fields had ceased to mean anything. They were something inaccessible, as inaccessible as the blue of the sky or the drifting cloud fleeces. Thus did he regard the trees and hills and fields, if the negative act of not regarding a thing at all can be considered a state of mind. |
| 9805 |
They separated, and, despite the rumbling of low growling in their throats, refrained from attacking each other as they plunged out to the ground. The little set to had occurred in so few seconds, or fractions of seconds, that they had not begun to betray recognition of each other until they were out of the machine. |
| 9806 |
He barked invitation to his brother, scampered away half a dozen jumps, scampered back, and dabbed playfully at Michael with one forepaw in added emphasis of invitation ere he scampered away again. For so many years had Michael not run with another dog, that at first Jerry's invitation had little meaning to him. |
| 9807 |
Michael sprang away again, and was numbly aware of an ancient joy as he shouldered Jerry who shouldered against him as they ran side by side. But most of the joy was Jerry's, as was the wildest of the skurrying and the racing and the shouldering, of the body wriggling, and ear pricking, and yelping cries. |
| 9808 |
The pageant of the wild flowers vanished until all that lingered on the burnt hillsides were orange poppies faded to palest gold, and Mariposa lilies, wind blown on slender stems amidst the desiccated grasses, that smouldered like ornate spotted moths fluttering in rest for a space between flight and flight. |
| 9809 |
To run with Jerry seemed the one pleasure he took, for he never played. Play had passed out of him. He was not precisely morose or gloomy from his years on the trained animal stage and in Harris Collins's college of pain, but he was sobered, subdued. The spring and the spontaneity had gone out of him. |
| 9810 |
Soft rain showers first broke the spell. Snow fell on the summit of Sonoma Mountain. At the ranch house the morning air was crisp and brittle, yet mid day made the shade welcome, and in the open, under the winter sun, roses bloomed and oranges, grape fruit, and lemons turned to golden yellow ripeness. |
| 9811 |
And Michael barked twice. The first time was when Harley Kennan, astride a hot blooded sorrel colt, tried to make it leap a narrow stream. Villa reined in her steed at the crest beyond, and, looking back into the little valley, waited for the colt to receive its lesson. Michael waited, too, but closer at hand. |
| 9812 |
He never barked at the moon, nor at hillside echoes, nor at any prowling thing. A particular echo, to be heard directly from the ranch house, was an unfailing source of exercise for Jerry's lungs. At such times that Jerry barked, Michael, with a bored expression, would lie down and wait until the duet was over. |
| 9813 |
He had been through so much that he was just as subdued as Michael and just as taciturn. He bored most people, who could not understand him. Of course, the truth was the other way around. They bored him. They knew so little of life that he knew the last word of. And one could scarcely get any word out of him. |
| 9814 |
One of Harley Kennan's angora goats had furnished him with meat. Four times he had slept the clock around from exhaustion, rousing on occasion, like any animal, to eat voraciously of the goat meat, to drink large quantities of the coffee hot or cold, and to sink down into heavy but nightmare ridden sleep. |
| 9815 |
So it happened, when the posses had begun to penetrate the mountain, and when the man was compelled to make a daylight dash down into the Valley of the Moon to cross over to the mountain fastnesses that lay between it and Napa Valley, that Harley Kennan rode out on the hot blooded colt he was training. |
| 9816 |
To the man's disgust he found the reporter unarmed save for a pencil and a wad of copy paper. Out of his disappointment in not securing a weapon, he beat the reporter up some more, left him wailing among the ferns, and, astride the reporter's horse, urging it on with the reporter's whip, continued down the trail. |
| 9817 |
Too painfully aware of the penalty its broken knees and rheumatic joints must pay, it dug its hoofs into the steep slope of moss and only sprang out and clear in the air in order to avoid a fall. Even so, its shoulder impacted against the shoulder of the whirling colt below it, overthrowing the latter. |
| 9818 |
Never before had this impressed him with such clear certainty. Everything was against him. His desire to cry was hysterical, and hysteria, in a desperate man, is prone to express itself in terrible savage ways. Without rhyme or reason he was prepared to carry out his threat to kick Harley Kennan to death. |
| 9819 |
On the contrary, it was he who had attacked Kennan, hurling him down on the road and breaking his leg under his horse. But Harley Kennan was a man, and all mankind was his enemy; and, in killing Kennan, in some vague way it appeared to him that he was avenging himself, at least in part, on mankind in general. |
| 9820 |
Michael, a prisoner in the bush, hanging head downward in the manzanita from his loins squeezed in the fork, and struggling vainly, could not come to his defence. The man's first kick, aimed at Harley's face, he blocked with his forearm; and, before the man could make a second kick, Jerry erupted on the scene. |
| 9821 |
Nor did he need encouragement or direction from his love master. He flashed at the man, sinking his teeth harmlessly into the slack of the man's trousers at the waist band above the hip, but by his weight dragging him half down to the ground. And upon Jerry the man turned with an increase of madness. |
| 9822 |
By neither wince nor blink had the dog acknowledged the blow. And then an entirely new kind of fear came upon the man. Was this the end for him, after all he had gone through? Was this deadly silent, rough coated terrier the thing destined to destroy him where men had failed? He did not even know that the dog was real. |
| 9823 |
Might it not be some terrible avenger, out of the mystery beyond life, placed to beset him and finish him finally on this road that he was convinced was surely the death road? The dog was not real. It could not be real. The dog did not live that could take a full arm whip slash without wince or flinch. |
| 9824 |
Twice again, as the dog sprang, he deflected it with accurately delivered blows. And the dog came on with the same surety and silence. The man surrendered to his terror, clapping heels to his horse's old ribs, beating it over the head and under the belly with the whip until it galloped as it had not galloped in years. |
| 9825 |
And he saw the horse, half rearing, half tottering and stumbling, overthrow the last shred of the man's balance so that he followed the dog to the ground. "And then they are like two dogs, like two beasts," Piccolomini was wont to tell in after years over a glass of wine in his little hotel in Glen Ellen. |
| 9826 |
I run down the hill, maybe from this door to that door, twenty feet or maybe thirty feet. And it is nearly all finished for the dog. His tongue is a long ways out, and his eyes like covered with cobwebs; but still he scratches the man's chest with his hind feet and the man yow yowls like a hen of the mountains. |
| 9827 |
John Claverhouse was a moon faced man. You know the kind, cheek bones wide apart, chin and forehead melting into the cheeks to complete the perfect round, and the nose, broad and pudgy, equidistant from the circumference, flattened against the very centre of the face like a dough ball upon the ceiling. |
| 9828 |
But his laugh! It irritated me, maddened me, as nothing else under the sun could irritate or madden me. It haunted me, gripped hold of me, and would not let me go. It was a huge, Gargantuan laugh. Waking or sleeping it was always with me, whirring and jarring across my heart strings like an enormous rasp. |
| 9829 |
I sat down on the croup of the mountain, where I could see all that occurred, and lighted my pipe. Ere many minutes had passed, John Claverhouse came plodding up the bed of the stream. Bellona was ambling about him, and they were in high feather, her short, snappy barks mingling with his deeper chest notes. |
| 9830 |
I could have shrieked aloud for joy. Claverhouse yelled at her, but without avail. He pelted her with clods and rocks, but she swam steadily on till she got the stick of "giant" in her mouth, when she whirled about and headed for shore. Then, for the first time, he realized his danger, and started to run. |
| 9831 |
He was the Leopard Man, but he did not look it. His business in life, whereby he lived, was to appear in a cage of performing leopards before vast audiences, and to thrill those audiences by certain exhibitions of nerve for which his employers rewarded him on a scale commensurate with the thrills he produced. |
| 9832 |
As I say, he did not look it. He was narrow hipped, narrow shouldered, and anaemic, while he seemed not so much oppressed by gloom as by a sweet and gentle sadness, the weight of which was as sweetly and gently borne. For an hour I had been trying to get a story out of him, but he appeared to lack imagination. |
| 9833 |
It was nothing. All you had to do was to stay sober. Anybody could whip a lion to a standstill with an ordinary stick. He had fought one for half an hour once. Just hit him on the nose every time he rushed, and when he got artful and rushed with his head down, why, the thing to do was to stick out your leg. |
| 9834 |
There were many of them, and one recent one where a tigress had reached for his shoulder and gone down to the bone. I could see the neatly mended rents in the coat he had on. His right arm, from the elbow down, looked as though it had gone through a threshing machine, what of the ravage wrought by claws and fangs. |
| 9835 |
The man who hated him attended every performance in the hope sometime of seeing that lion crunch down. He followed the show about all over the country. The years went by and he grew old, and the lion tamer grew old, and the lion grew old. And at last one day, sitting in a front seat, he saw what he had waited for. |
| 9836 |
It was a divided cage, and a monkey, poking through the bars and around the partition, had had its paw seized by a big gray wolf who was trying to pull it off by main strength. The arm seemed stretching out longer end longer like a thick elastic, and the unfortunate monkey's mates were raising a terrible din. |
| 9837 |
The night scavenger, the pariah, the miserable, the despised, the man without caste! And in its next incarnation, consistently and logically, it attaches itself to the American outcast, namely, the tramp. Then, as others have mutilated its sense, the tramp mutilates its form, and ho boy becomes exultantly hobo. |
| 9838 |
I have lived it, naked, taken it up in both my hands and looked at it, and tasted it, the flesh and the blood of it, and, being purely an intellectual, I have been biased by neither passion nor prejudice. All of which is necessary for clear concepts, and all of which you lack. Ah! a really clever passage. |
| 9839 |
He was a big, beefy, red faced personage, full jowled and double chinned, sweating at his desk in his shirt sleeves. It was August, you know. He was talking into a telephone when I entered, or swearing rather, I should say, and the while studying me with his eyes. When he hung up, he turned to me expectantly. |
| 9840 |
While he was notorious in local trampdom, his civic sins were not only not unknown but a crying reproach to the townspeople. Of course I refrained from mentioning name or habitat, drawing the picture in an impersonal, composite sort of way, which none the less blinded no one to the faithfulness of the local color. |
| 9841 |
But I flashed my dough and Slim sent several of the younger men off to buy the booze. Take my word for it, Anak, it was a blow out memorable in Trampdom to this day. It's amazing the quantity of booze thirty plunks will buy, and it is equally amazing the quantity of booze outside of which twenty stiffs will get. |
| 9842 |
And now, on the down trip, it was glacier like. The sparkle and the color were gone. She was frowning, and what little he could see of her eyes was cold and steel gray. Oh, he knew the symptoms, he did. He was an observer, and he knew it, too, and some day, when he was big enough, he was going to be a reporter, sure. |
| 9843 |
You have received a high school education, and possibly topped it off with normal school or college. You have stood well in English. Your friends have all told you how cleverly you write, and how beautifully, and so forth and so forth. You think you can do newspaper work, and you want me to put you on. |
| 9844 |
There's a scenic railway, a water toboggan slide, a concert band, a theatre, wild animals, moving pictures, and so forth and so forth. The common people go there to look at the animals and enjoy themselves, and the other people go there to enjoy themselves by watching the common people enjoy themselves. |
| 9845 |
Move about among the amateurs waiting their turn, pump them, study them, photograph them in your brain. Get the atmosphere, the color, strong color, lots of it. Dig right in with both hands, and get the essence of it, the spirit, the significance. What does it mean? Find out what it means. That's what you're there for. |
| 9846 |
The feature is a trick. Master it, but don't let it master you. But master it you must; for if you can't learn to do a feature well, you can never expect to do anything better. In short, put your whole self into it, and yet, outside of it, above it, remain yourself, if you follow me. And now good luck to you. |
| 9847 |
Her own make up was so simple that it was quickly accomplished, and she left the trio of ladies holding an armed truce while they passed judgment upon her. Letty was close at her shoulder, and with patience and persistence they managed to get a nook in one of the wings which commanded a view of the stage. |
| 9848 |
It was impossible for her to begin in time, and as she patiently waited, arms akimbo and ears straining for the music, the house let loose again (a favorite trick, she afterward learned, of confusing the amateur by preventing him or her from hearing the orchestra). But Edna was recovering her presence of mind. |
| 9849 |
The hard working but silent orchestra gave her the cue, and, without making a sound, she began to move her lips, stretch forth her arms, and sway her body, as though she were really singing. The noise in the house redoubled in the attempt to drown her voice, but she serenely went on with her pantomime. |
| 9850 |
The manager seemed looking for her, and she caught an expression of relief in his eyes when he first saw her. He hurried up, greeted her, and bowed with a respect ludicrously at variance with his previous ogre like behavior. And as he bowed, across his shoulders she saw Charley Welsh deliberately wink. |
| 9851 |
This, by retrospective analysis, we could easily explain by the fact of his great trouble. I use "great trouble" advisedly. Young, handsome, with an assured position as the right hand man of Eben Hale, the great street railway magnate, there could be no reason for him to complain of fortune's favors. |
| 9852 |
Why this should be so we could not at the time understand, for when Eben Hale's will was probated, the world learned that he was sole heir to his employer's many millions, and it was expressly stipulated that this great inheritance was given to him without qualification, hitch, or hindrance in the exercise thereof. |
| 9853 |
Not a share of stock, not a penny of cash, was bequeathed to the dead man's relatives. As for his direct family, one astounding clause expressly stated that Wade Atsheler was to dispense to Eben Hale's wife and sons and daughters whatever moneys his judgement dictated, at whatever times he deemed advisable. |
| 9854 |
This sum we require you to pay over to us, or to our agents. You will note we do not specify any given time, for it is not our wish to hurry you in this matter. You may even, if it be easier for you, pay us in ten, fifteen, or twenty instalments; but we will accept no single instalment of less than a million. |
| 9855 |
We have, from a thorough study of economics, decided to enter upon this business. It has many merits, chief among which may be noted that we can indulge in large and lucrative operations without capital. So far, we have been fairly successful, and we hope our dealings with you may be pleasant and satisfactory. |
| 9856 |
These capitalists quickly towered above the ancient nobility. The captains of industry have virtually dispossessed the descendants of the captains of war. Mind, and not muscle, wins in to day's struggle for existence. But this state of affairs is none the less based upon might. The change has been qualitative. |
| 9857 |
Alarm sat upon their faces, and it was plain that they were seriously perturbed. Though the facts were so few and simple, we talked long, going over the affair again and again. When the Inspector went away, he confidently assured us that everything would soon be straightened out and the assassins run to earth. |
| 9858 |
You will notice also the letters warning Mr. Hale of certain machinations of commercial enemies and secret manipulations of stock. The M. of M. seemed to have its hand on the inner pulse of the business and financial world. They possessed themselves of and forwarded to us information which our agents could not obtain. |
| 9859 |
He disbursed at the rate of one hundred thousand per week for secret service. The aid of the Pinkertons and of countless private detective agencies was called in, and in addition to this thousands were upon our payroll. Our agents swarmed everywhere, in all guises, penetrating all classes of society. |
| 9860 |
He was determined to win out. His graduated rewards aggregated over ten millions. You have a fair idea of his resources and you can see in what manner he drew upon them. It was the principle, he affirmed, that he was fighting for, not the gold. And it must be admitted that his course proved the nobility of his motive. |
| 9861 |
They had their way and struck unerringly. But while he fought to the last, Mr. Hale could not wash his hands of the blood with which they were dyed. Though not technically a murderer, though no jury of his peers would ever have convicted him, none the less the death of every individual was due to him. |
| 9862 |
As I said before, a word from him and the slaughter would have ceased. But he refused to give that word. He insisted that the integrity of society was assailed; that he was not sufficiently a coward to desert his post; and that it was manifestly just that a few should be martyred for the ultimate welfare of the many. |
| 9863 |
We are the successful failures of the age, the scourges of a degraded civilization. We are the creatures of a perverse social selection. We meet force with force. Only the strong shall endure. We believe in the survival of the fittest. You have crushed your wage slaves into the dirt and you have survived. |
| 9864 |
The officials have begged me to keep this secret. I have done so, but can do so no longer. It has become a question of public import, fraught with the direst consequences, and I shall do my duty before I leave this world by informing it of its peril. Do you, John, as my last request, make this public. |
| 9865 |
The fate of humanity rests in your hand. Let the press strike off millions of copies; let the electric currents sweep it round the world; wherever men meet and speak, let them speak of it in fear and trembling. And then, when thoroughly aroused, let society arise in its might and cast out this abomination. |
| 9866 |
Lloyd's eyes were black; Paul's were blue. Under stress of excitement, the blood coursed olive in the face of Lloyd, crimson in the face of Paul. But outside this matter of coloring they were as like as two peas. Both were high strung, prone to excessive tension and endurance, and they lived at concert pitch. |
| 9867 |
When I saw their faces, set and determined, disappear in the water as they sank swiftly down, I felt a foreboding of something dreadful. The moments sped, the ripples died away, the face of the pool grew placid and untroubled, and neither black nor golden head broke surface in quest of air. We above grew anxious. |
| 9868 |
I found them down at the bottom, clutching tight to the roots, their heads not a foot apart, their eyes wide open, each glaring fixedly at the other. They were suffering frightful torment, writhing and twisting in the pangs of voluntary suffocation; for neither would let go and acknowledge himself beaten. |
| 9869 |
I quickly explained the situation, and half a dozen of us went down and by main strength tore them loose. By the time we got them out, both were unconscious, and it was only after much barrel rolling and rubbing and pounding that they finally came to their senses. They would have drowned there, had no one rescued them. |
| 9870 |
My friendship and their mutual animosity were the two things that linked them in any way together. While they were very often at my place, they made it a fastidious point to avoid each other on such visits, though it was inevitable, under the circumstances, that they should come upon each other occasionally. |
| 9871 |
Never, by word or sign, did I convey to either the slightest hint of the other's progress, and they respected me for the seal I put upon my lips. Lloyd Inwood, after prolonged and unintermittent application, when the tension upon his mind and body became too great to bear, had a strange way of obtaining relief. |
| 9872 |
He attended prize fights. It was at one of these brutal exhibitions, whither he had dragged me in order to tell his latest results, that his theory received striking confirmation. "Do you see that red whiskered man?" he asked, pointing across the ring to the fifth tier of seats on the opposite side. |
| 9873 |
Paul was startled when he investigated my find. It was his invisible dog, or rather, what had been his invisible dog, for it was now plainly visible. It had been playing about but a few minutes before in all health and strength. Closer examination revealed that the skull had been crushed by some heavy blow. |
| 9874 |
I went over in answer to a message of his to come and see how he was getting on. Now his laboratory occupied an isolated situation in the midst of his vast grounds. It was built in a pleasant little glade, surrounded on all sides by a dense forest growth, and was to be gained by way of a winding and erratic path. |
| 9875 |
But I have travelled that path so often as to know every foot of it, and conceive my surprise when I came upon the glade and found no laboratory. The quaint shed structure with its red sandstone chimney was not. Nor did it look as if it ever had been. There were no signs of ruin, no debris, nothing. |
| 9876 |
I moved and knew from the alternate tension and relaxation of the muscles that I moved it, but it defied my sense of sight. To all appearances I had been shorn of a finger; nor could I get any visual impression of it till I extended it under the skylight and saw its shadow plainly blotted on the floor. |
| 9877 |
Lloyd chuckled. "Now spread it on, and keep your eyes open." I dipped the brush into the seemingly empty pot, and gave him a long stroke across his chest. With the passage of the brush the living flesh disappeared from beneath. I covered his right leg, and he was a one legged man defying all laws of gravitation. |
| 9878 |
When you pass between my eye and an object, the object disappears, but so unusual and incomprehensible is its disappearance that it seems to me as though my eyes had blurred. When you move rapidly, I experience a bewildering succession of blurs. The blurring sensation makes my eyes ache and my brain tired. |
| 9879 |
I cried a warning to Paul, and heard a snarl as of a wild beast, and an answering snarl. I saw the dark blotch move swiftly across the court, and a brilliant burst of vari colored light moving with equal swiftness to meet it; and then shadow and flash came together and there was the sound of unseen blows. |
| 9880 |
And it was naked. All I could see was the blotch of shadow and the rainbow flashes, the dust rising from the invisible feet, the earth tearing up from beneath the straining foot grips, and the wire screen bulge once or twice as their bodies hurled against it. That was all, and after a time even that ceased. |
| 9881 |
There were no more flashes, and the shadow had become long and stationary; and I remembered their set boyish faces when they clung to the roots in the deep coolness of the pool. They found me an hour afterward. Some inkling of what had happened got to the servants and they quitted the Tichlorne service in a body. |
| 9882 |
The secrets of their marvellous discoveries died with Paul and Lloyd, both laboratories being destroyed by grief stricken relatives. As for myself, I no longer care for chemical research, and science is a tabooed topic in my household. I have returned to my roses. Nature's colors are good enough for me. |
| 9883 |
Over the pool three cottonwoods sent their scurvy fluffs fluttering down the quiet air. On the slope the blossoms of the wine wooded manzanita filled the air with springtime odors, while the leaves, wise with experience, were already beginning their vertical twist against the coming aridity of summer. |
| 9884 |
Creamy white were these bells, shaped like lilies of the valley, with the sweetness of perfume that is of the springtime. There was not a sigh of wind. The air was drowsy with its weight of perfume. It was a sweetness that would have been cloying had the air been heavy and humid. But the air was sharp and thin. |
| 9885 |
Sometimes his ears moved when the stream awoke and whispered; but they moved lazily, with, foreknowledge that it was merely the stream grown garrulous at discovery that it had slept. But there came a time when the buck's ears lifted and tensed with swift eagerness for sound. His head was turned down the canyon. |
| 9886 |
Thinking was in him a visible process. Ideas chased across his face like wind flaws across the surface of a lake. His hair, sparse and unkempt of growth, was as indeterminate and colorless as his complexion. It would seem that all the color of his frame had gone into his eyes, for they were startlingly blue. |
| 9887 |
The sidehill attracted his attention. Still lying on his stomach, he studied the hill formation long and carefully. It was a practised eye that travelled up the slope to the crumbling canyon wall and back and down again to the edge of the pool. He scrambled to his feet and favored the sidehill with a second survey. |
| 9888 |
Where the sidehill touched the water he dug up a shovelful of dirt and put it into the gold pan. He squatted down, holding the pan in his two hands, and partly immersing it in the stream. Then he imparted to the pan a deft circular motion that sent the water sluicing in and out through the dirt and gravel. |
| 9889 |
A golden speck, no larger than a pin point, appeared on the rim, and by his manipulation of the riveter it returned to the bottom of tile pan. And in such fashion another speck was disclosed, and another. Great was his care of them. Like a shepherd he herded his flock of golden specks so that not one should be lost. |
| 9890 |
He counted it, and then, after all his labor, sent it flying out of the pan with one final swirl of water. But his blue eyes were shining with desire as he rose to his feet. "Seven," he muttered aloud, asserting the sum of the specks for which he had toiled so hard and which he had so wantonly thrown away. |
| 9891 |
Into this he thrust the gold pan and burned it till it was blue black. He held up the pan and examined it critically. Then he nodded approbation. Against such a color background he could defy the tiniest yellow speck to elude him. Still moving down the stream, he panned again. A single speck was his reward. |
| 9892 |
There was little opportunity for the spirit of the place to return with its quietude and repose, for the man's voice, raised in ragtime song, still dominated the canyon with possession. After a time, with a greater clashing of steel shod feet on rock, he returned. The green screen was tremendously agitated. |
| 9893 |
The man's voice leaped to a higher pitch and was sharp with imperativeness. A large body plunged and panted. There was a snapping and ripping and rending, and amid a shower of falling leaves a horse burst through the screen. On its back was a pack, and from this trailed broken vines and torn creepers. |
| 9894 |
The animal gazed with astonished eyes at the scene into which it had been precipitated, then dropped its head to the grass and began contentedly to graze. A second horse scrambled into view, slipping once on the mossy rocks and regaining equilibrium when its hoofs sank into the yielding surface of the meadow. |
| 9895 |
It was riderless, though on its back was a high horned Mexican saddle, scarred and discolored by long usage. The man brought up the rear. He threw off pack and saddle, with an eye to camp location, and gave the animals their freedom to graze. He unpacked his food and got out frying pan and coffee pot. |
| 9896 |
Each pan he carried down to the water to wash, and as he went higher up the hill the pans grew richer, until he began to save the gold in an empty baking powder can which he carried carelessly in his hip pocket. So engrossed was he in his toil that he did not notice the long twilight of oncoming night. |
| 9897 |
He filled a pan and carried it down the hill to wash. It contained no trace of gold. He dug deep, and he dug shallow, filling and washing a dozen pans, and was unrewarded even by the tiniest golden speck. He was enraged at having yielded to the temptation, and cursed himself blasphemously and pridelessly. |
| 9898 |
Behind him was devastation. It looked like some terrible eruption breaking out on the smooth skin of the hill. His slow progress was like that of a slug, befouling beauty with a monstrous trail. Though the dipping gold trace increased the man's work, he found consolation in the increasing richness of the pans. |
| 9899 |
To the north and south he could see more distinctly the cross systems that broke through the main trend of the sea of mountains. To the west the ranges fell away, one behind the other, diminishing and fading into the gentle foothills that, in turn, descended into the great valley which he could not see. |
| 9900 |
His pick grated on broken rock. He examined the rock. "Rotten quartz," was his conclusion as, with the shovel, he cleared the bottom of the hole of loose dirt. He attacked the crumbling quartz with the pick, bursting the disintegrating rock asunder with every stroke. He thrust his shovel into the loose mass. |
| 9901 |
Suddenly there came to him a premonition of danger. It seemed a shadow had fallen upon him. But there was no shadow. His heart had given a great jump up into his throat and was choking him. Then his blood slowly chilled and he felt the sweat of his shirt cold against his flesh. He did not spring up nor look around. |
| 9902 |
He examined it critically, turned it over and over, and rubbed the dirt from it. And all the time he knew that something behind him was looking at the gold over his shoulder. Still feigning interest in the chunk of gold in his hand, he listened intently and he heard the breathing of the thing behind him. |
| 9903 |
His eyes searched the ground in front of him for a weapon, but they saw only the uprooted gold, worthless to him now in his extremity. There was his pick, a handy weapon on occasion; but this was not such an occasion. The man realized his predicament. He was in a narrow hole that was seven feet deep. |
| 9904 |
His head did not come to the surface of the ground. He was in a trap. He remained squatting on his heels. He was quite cool and collected; but his mind, considering every factor, showed him only his helplessness. He continued rubbing the dirt from the quartz fragments and throwing the gold into the pan. |
| 9905 |
His body crumpled in like a leaf withered in sudden heat, and he came down, his chest across his pan of gold, his face in the dirt and rock, his legs tangled and twisted because of the restricted space at the bottom of the hole. His legs twitched convulsively several times. His body was shaken as with a mighty ague. |
| 9906 |
He peered for a long time at the prone and motionless body beneath him. After a while the stranger sat down on the edge of the hole so that he could see into it, and rested the revolver on his knee. Reaching his hand into a pocket, he drew out a wisp of brown paper. Into this he dropped a few crumbs of tobacco. |
| 9907 |
The combination became a cigarette, brown and squat, with the ends turned in. Not once did he take his eyes from the body at the bottom of the hole. He lighted the cigarette and drew its smoke into his lungs with a caressing intake of the breath. He smoked slowly. Once the cigarette went out and he relighted it. |
| 9908 |
In the end he tossed the cigarette stub away and rose to his feet. He moved to the edge of the hole. Spanning it, a hand resting on each edge, and with the revolver still in the right hand, he muscled his body down into the hole. While his feet were yet a yard from the bottom he released his hands and dropped down. |
| 9909 |
The smoke filled the hole so that he could see nothing. He struck the bottom on his back, and like a cat's the pocket miner's body was on top of him. Even as the miner's body passed on top, the stranger crooked in his right arm to fire; and even in that instant the miner, with a quick trust of elbow, struck his wrist. |
| 9910 |
The sun was at the zenith when the man forced the horses at the screen of vines and creepers. To climb the huge boulders the animals were compelled to uprear and struggle blindly through the tangled mass of vegetation. Once the saddle horse fell heavily and the man removed the pack to get the animal on its feet. |
| 9911 |
After it started on its way again the man thrust his head out from among the leaves and peered up at the hillside. "The measly skunk!" he said, and disappeared. There was a ripping and tearing of vines and boughs. The trees surged back and forth, marking the passage of the animals through the midst of them. |
| 9912 |
She waited, in the silence which followed, her eyes fixed upon the light that filtered down through the lofty boughs and bathed the great redwood trunks in mellow warmth. This light, subdued and colored, seemed almost a radiation from the trunks themselves, so strongly did they saturate it with their hue. |
| 9913 |
He tried to face her, but her gray eyes looked out to him, steadily, from under cool, level brows, and he dropped his head upon her knee. Her hand strayed into his hair softly, and her face melted into solicitude and tenderness. But when he looked up again, her gray eyes were steady, her brows cool and level. |
| 9914 |
You always let me have my own way. It was you who were the obedient slave. You did for me without offending me. You forestalled my wishes without the semblance of forestalling; them, so natural and inevitable was everything you did for me. I said, without offending me. You were no dancing puppet. You made no fuss. |
| 9915 |
A crimson crested woodpecker, energetically drilling a fallen trunk, caught and transferred her gaze. The man did not lift his head. Rather, he crushed his face closer against her knee, while his heaving shoulders marked the hardness with which he breathed. "You must tell me, Chris," the girl said gently. |
| 9916 |
But she watched in a mechanical, absent way. She looked at the scene as from a long way off, without interest, herself an alien, no longer an intimate part of the earth and trees and flowers she loved so well. So far removed did she seem, that she was aware of a curiosity, strangely impersonal, in what lay around her. |
| 9917 |
The man sank forward from the hips, relaxing entirely, and with a groan dropped his head on her knee. She leaned over him and pressed her lips softly and lingeringly to his hair. "Come, let us go," she said, almost in a whisper. She caught her breath in a half sob, then tightened her lips as she rose. |
| 9918 |
She leaned against Dolly's neck while he tightened the girths. Then she gathered the reins in her hand and waited. He looked at her as he bent down, an appeal for forgiveness in his eyes; and in that moment her own eyes answered. Her foot rested in his hands, and from there she vaulted into the saddle. |
| 9919 |
They swung around the bend, horses and riders tilted at sharp angles to the ground, and more than once the riders ducked low to escape the branches of outreaching and overhanging trees. They clattered over the small plank bridges, and thundered over the larger iron ones to an ominous clanking of loose rods. |
| 9920 |
She urged the horse by suddenly leaning forward with her body, at the same time, for an instant, letting the rein slack and touching the neck with her bridle hand. She began to draw away from the man. "Touch her on the neck!" she cried to him. With this, the mare pulled alongside and began gradually to pass the girl. |
| 9921 |
From either side rose the drowsy purr of mowing machines, punctuated by occasional sharp cries of the men who were gathering the hay crop. On the western side of the valley the hills rose green and dark, but the eastern side was already burned brown and tan by the sun. "There is summer, here is spring," Lute said. |
| 9922 |
Then she threw her head straight up and rose on her hind legs, pivoting about and striking with her fore feet. Lute whirled into safety the horse she was riding, and as she did so caught a glimpse of Dolly's eyes, with the look in them of blind brute madness, bulging until it seemed they must burst from her head. |
| 9923 |
A faint cry of fear, suppressed in the instant of utterance, slipped past Lute's lips. One hind leg of the mare seemed to collapse, and for a moment the whole quivering body, upreared and perpendicular, swayed back and forth, and there was uncertainty as to whether it would fall forward or backward. |
| 9924 |
From within the thicket she could hear a tremendous crashing of brush and branches. Then the mare burst through and into the open, falling to her knees, exhausted, on the soft earth. She arose and staggered forward, then came limply to a halt. She was in lather sweat of fear, and stood trembling pitiably. |
| 9925 |
His shirt was in ribbons. The backs of his hands were bruised and lacerated, while his face was streaming blood from a gash near the temple. Lute had controlled herself well, but now she was aware of a quick nausea and a trembling of weakness. "Chris!" she said, so softly that it was almost a whisper. |
| 9926 |
He showed the reaction he was undergoing, when he swung down out of the saddle. He began with a brave muscular display as he lifted his leg over, but ended, on his feet, leaning against the limp Dolly for support. Lute flashed out of her saddle, and her arms were about him in an embrace of thankfulness. |
| 9927 |
They left the horses standing untethered, and she led her lover into the cool recesses of the thicket to where crystal water bubbled from out the base of the mountain. "What was that you said about Dolly's never cutting up?" he asked, when the blood had been stanched and his nerves and pulse beats were normal again. |
| 9928 |
The little town slept in the sun, and the somnolent storekeeper and postmaster scarcely kept his eyes open long enough to make up the packet of letters and newspapers. An hour later Lute and Chris turned aside from the road and dipped along a cow path down the high bank to water the horses, before going into camp. |
| 9929 |
Lute, riding behind, dwelt with her eyes upon her lover's back, pleasuring in the lines of the bare neck and the sweep out to the muscular shoulders. Suddenly she reined in her horse. She could do nothing but look, so brief was the duration of the happening. Beneath and above was the almost perpendicular bank. |
| 9930 |
The path itself was barely wide enough for footing. Yet Washoe Ban, whirling and rearing at the same time, toppled for a moment in the air and fell backward off the path. So unexpected and so quick was it, that the man was involved in the fall. There had been no time for him to throw himself to the path. |
| 9931 |
The animal struggled little, but sounded the terrible cry that horses sometimes sound when they have received mortal hurt. He had struck almost squarely on his back, and in that position he remained, his head twisted partly under, his hind legs relaxed and motionless, his fore legs futilely striking the air. |
| 9932 |
I knew every bit of him, every trick, every caper, and I would have staked my life that it was impossible for him to do a thing like this. There was no warning, no fighting for the bit, no previous unruliness. I have been thinking it over. He didn't fight for the bit, for that matter. He wasn't unruly, nor disobedient. |
| 9933 |
You know the open house we keep. They halted where a passageway between two great redwood trunks gave entrance to the dining room. Above, through lacing boughs, could be seen the stars. Candles lighted the tree columned space. About the table, examining the Planchette contrivance, were four persons. |
| 9934 |
But it isn't that, after all. It is all genuine in their dear hearts. No matter how severe the censure they put upon you when you are absent, the moment they are with you they soften and are all kindness and warmth. As soon as their eyes rest on you, affection and love come bubbling up. You are so made. |
| 9935 |
Obey worldly considerations, obey pride, obey those that prompt you against your heart's prompting, and you do sin. Do not mind your father. He is angry now, as was his way in the earth life; but he will come to see the wisdom of my counsel, for this, too, was his way in the earth life. Love, my child, and love well. |
| 9936 |
Chris started to speak, but she hushed him to silence. The preliminary twitchings had appeared in her hand and arm. Then the pencil began to write. They read the message, word by word, as it was written: There is wisdom greater than the wisdom of reason. Love proceeds not out of the dry as dust way of the mind. |
| 9937 |
I cannot help it. As my body is trembling, so is my soul. This speech of the grave, this dead man reaching out from the mould of a generation to protect me from you. There is reason in it. There is the living mystery that prevents you from marrying me. Were my father alive, he would protect me from you. |
| 9938 |
It is all a lark. We are playing with the subjective forces of our own being, with phenomena which science has not yet explained, that is all. Psychology is so young a science. The subconscious mind has just been discovered, one might say. It is all mystery as yet; the laws of it are yet to he formulated. |
| 9939 |
I don't understand, for that matter, but I have faith in you, and in the nature of things they are not capable of this same Implicit faith. You raise up before me a mystery that prevents our marriage, and I believe you; but they could not believe you without doubts arising as to the wrong and ill nature of the mystery. |
| 9940 |
She rode out into an open space where a loose earth slide denied lodgement to trees and grass. She halted the horse at the brink of the slide and glanced down it with a measuring eye. Forty feet beneath, the slide terminated in a small, firm surfaced terrace, the banked accumulation of fallen earth and gravel. |
| 9941 |
But to the left, from the ledge, and several feet lower, was a they bed of gravel. A giant boulder prevented direct access to the gravel bed. The only way to gain it was by first leaping to the ledge of rock. She studied it carefully, and the tightening of her bridle arm advertised that she had made up her mind. |
| 9942 |
On one side rose the huge bulk of the mountain. On the other side the steep wall of the canyon fell away in impossible slopes and sheer drops to the torrent at the bottom. It was an abyss of green beauty and shady depths, pierced by vagrant shafts of the sun and mottled here and there by the sun's broader blazes. |
| 9943 |
The sound of rushing water ascended on the windless air, and there was a hum of mountain bees. The horses broke into an easy lope. Chris rock on the outside, looking down into the great depths and pleasuring with his eyes in what he saw. Dissociating itself from the murmur of the bees, a murmur arose of falling water. |
| 9944 |
She heard nothing, but even before the horse went down she experienced the feeling that the unison of the two leaping animals was broken. She turned her head, and so quickly that she saw Comanche fall. It was not a stumble nor a trip. He fell as though, abruptly, in midleap, he had died or been struck a stunning blow. |
| 9945 |
Her horse was back on its haunches, the weight of her body on the reins; but her head was turned and her eyes were on the falling Comanche. He struck the road bed squarely, with his legs loose and lifeless beneath him. It all occurred in one of those age long seconds that embrace an eternity of happening. |
| 9946 |
Her lover was out of the saddle and clear of Comanche, though held to the animal by his right foot, which was caught in the stirrup. The slope was too steep for them to come to a stop. Earth and small stones, dislodged by their struggles, were rolling down with them and before them in a miniature avalanche. |
| 9947 |
The manzanita shoot yielded its roots, and horse and man plunged over the edge and out of sight. They came into view on the next slope, together and rolling over and over, with sometimes the man under and sometimes the horse. Chris no longer struggled, and together they dashed over to the third slope. |
| 9948 |
But she saw Comanche begin to struggle again, and clear on her vision, it seemed, was the spectral arm of her father clutching the reins and dragging the animal over. Comanche floundered across the hummock, the inert body following, and together, horse and man, they plunged from sight. They did not appear again. |
| 9949 |
The waters of the bay contain all manner of fish, wherefore its surface is ploughed by the keels of all manner of fishing boats manned by all manner of fishermen. To protect the fish from this motley floating population many wise laws have been passed, and there is a fish patrol to see that these laws are enforced. |
| 9950 |
After a deal of work among the Greek fishermen of the Upper Bay and rivers, where knives flashed at the beginning of trouble and men permitted themselves to be made prisoners only after a revolver was thrust in their faces, we hailed with delight an expedition to the Lower Bay against the Chinese shrimp catchers. |
| 9951 |
There were six of us, in two boats, and to avoid suspicion we ran down after dark and dropped anchor under a projecting bluff of land known as Point Pinole. As the east paled with the first light of dawn we got under way again, and hauled close on the land breeze as we slanted across the bay toward Point Pedro. |
| 9952 |
The water still poured in, and perforce we doubled up in the cockpit and tossed it out again. After coffee, three of the men withdrew to the other boat, a Columbia River salmon boat, leaving three of us in the Reindeer. Then the two craft proceeded in company till the sun showed over the eastern skyline. |
| 9953 |
Its fiery rays dispelled the clinging vapors, and there, before our eyes, like a picture, lay the shrimp fleet, spread out in a great half moon, the tips of the crescent fully three miles apart, and each junk moored fast to the buoy of a shrimp net. But there was no stir, no sign of life. The situation dawned upon us. |
| 9954 |
I put the Reindeer about on the other tack, ran up under the lee of a junk, shivered the mainsail into the wind and lost headway, and forged past the stern of the junk so slowly and so near that one of the patrolmen stepped lightly aboard. Then I kept off, filled the mainsail, and bore away for a second junk. |
| 9955 |
By this time we were in the thick of the fleet, and the alarm was spreading with incredible swiftness. The decks were beginning to swarm with half awakened and half naked Chinese. Cries and yells of warning and anger were flying over the quiet water, and somewhere a conch shell was being blown with great success. |
| 9956 |
To the right of us I saw the captain of a junk chop away his mooring line with an axe and spring to help his crew at the hoisting of the huge, outlandish lug sail. But to the left the first heads were popping up from below on another junk, and I rounded up the Reindeer alongside long enough for George to spring aboard. |
| 9957 |
He of the yellow handkerchief and pock marked face came toward me threateningly, but I put my hand into my hip pocket, and he hesitated. I was unarmed, but the Chinese have learned to be fastidiously careful of American hip pockets, and it was upon this that I depended to keep him and his savage crew at a distance. |
| 9958 |
I cast off at once, and, leaving the jib down, steered a course for George's junk. Here it was easier, for there were two of us, and George had a pistol to fall back on if it came to the worst. And here, as with my junk, four Chinese were transferred to the sloop and one left behind to take care of things. |
| 9959 |
Four more were added to our passenger list from the third junk. By this time the salmon boat had collected its twelve prisoners and came alongside, badly overloaded. To make matters worse, as it was a small boat, the patrolmen were so jammed in with their prisoners that they would have little chance in case of trouble. |
| 9960 |
Their laughter was not good laughter. There was a hint of menace in it, a maliciousness which their black looks verified. The Yellow Handkerchief, since his discovery of my empty pocket, had become most insolent in his bearing, and he wormed about among the other prisoners, talking to them with great earnestness. |
| 9961 |
George was about the most all round helpless man I had ever met. Among his other disabilities, he was a consumptive, and I knew that if he attempted to bail, it might bring on a hemorrhage. Yet the rising water warned me that something must be done. Again I ordered the shrimp catchers to lend a hand with the buckets. |
| 9962 |
But he shook his head and showed all too plainly that he was afraid. The Chinese could see the funk he was in as well as I could, and their insolence became insufferable. Those in the cabin broke into the food lockers, and those above scrambled down and joined them in a feast on our crackers and canned goods. |
| 9963 |
Yellow Handkerchief approached me, and, pointing out his village on the Point Pedro beach, gave me to understand that if I turned the Reindeer in that direction and put them ashore, they, in turn, would go to bailing. By now the water in the cabin was up to the bunks, and the bed clothes were sopping. |
| 9964 |
Between the threatening Chinese and the rising water he was beside himself with fright; and, more than the Chinese and the water, I feared him and what his fright might impel him to do. I could see him casting longing glances at the small skiff towing astern, so in the next calm I hauled the skiff alongside. |
| 9965 |
In a rough sea she would have inevitably swamped; but the wind, when it did blow, was off the land, and scarcely a ripple disturbed the surface of the bay. "I think you'd better head for the beach," George said abruptly, in a manner that told me his fear had forced him to make up his mind to some course of action. |
| 9966 |
I threatened them with the revolver, but they sat stolidly in the flooded cabin and on the roof and would not move. Fifteen minutes passed, the Reindeer sinking deeper and deeper, her mainsail flapping in the calm. But from off the Point Pedro shore I saw a dark line form on the water and travel toward us. |
| 9967 |
Then I pointed to the sail and to the water in the Reindeer, and indicated by signs that when the wind reached the sail, what of the water aboard we would capsize. But they jeered defiantly, for they knew it was in my power to luff the helm and let go the main sheet, so as to spill the wind and escape damage. |
| 9968 |
I hauled in the main sheet a foot or two, took a turn with it, and bracing my feet, put my back against the tiller. This left me one hand for the sheet and one for the revolver. The dark line drew nearer, and I could see them looking from me to it and back again with an apprehension they could not successfully conceal. |
| 9969 |
He was called "Big Alec" because of his gigantic stature. His height was six feet three inches, and he was correspondingly broad shouldered and deep chested. He was splendidly muscled and hard as steel, and there were innumerable stories in circulation among the fisher folk concerning his prodigious strength. |
| 9970 |
In the old days, the fish patrol had attempted his capture many disastrous times and had finally given it over, so that when the word was out that he was coming to Benicia, I was most anxious to see him. But I did not have to hunt him up. In his usual bold way, the first thing he did on arriving was to hunt us up. |
| 9971 |
Now a "Chinese line" is a cunning device invented by the people whose name it bears. By a simple system of floats, weights, and anchors, thousands of hooks, each on a separate leader, are suspended at a distance of from six inches to a foot above the bottom. The remarkable thing about such a line is the hook. |
| 9972 |
Because no sturgeon can pass through a Chinese line, the device is called a trap in the fish laws; and because it bids fair to exterminate the sturgeon, it is branded by the fish laws as illegal. And such a line, we were confident, Big Alec intended setting, in open and flagrant violation of the law. |
| 9973 |
Charley's face went black with anger; but beyond promising Big Alec that in the end he would surely land him behind the bars, he controlled himself and said nothing. The King of the Greeks made his boast that no fish patrol had ever taken him or ever could take him, and the fishermen cheered him and said it was true. |
| 9974 |
The yacht was rolling savagely, broad on, and no sooner had the owner's feet touched the deck than he collapsed and joined the others. Not one was able to bear a hand, so Charley and I between us cleared the badly tangled running gear, got up sail, and hoisted anchor. It was a rough trip, though a swift one. |
| 9975 |
But the people did not mind. They did not mind anything. Two or three, including the owner, sprawled in the cockpit, shuddering when the yacht lifted and raced and sank dizzily into the trough, and between whiles regarding the shore with yearning eyes. The rest were huddled on the cabin floor among the cushions. |
| 9976 |
The main sheet slacked and dipped, then shot over our heads after the boom and tautened with a crash on the traveller. The yacht heeled over almost on her beam ends, and a great wail went up from the seasick passengers as they swept across the cabin floor in a tangled mass and piled into a heap in the starboard bunks. |
| 9977 |
The wind and sea quickly stopped our forward movement, and we began to drift backward over the spot where the skiff had been. Big Alec's black head and swarthy face popped up within arm's reach; and all unsuspecting and very angry with what he took to be the clumsiness of amateur sailors, he was hauled aboard. |
| 9978 |
One was a squat, broad shouldered fellow with remarkably long and gorilla like arms, while the other was tall and well proportioned, with clear blue eyes and a mat of straight black hair. So unusual and striking was this combination of hair and eyes that Charley and I remained somewhat longer than we intended. |
| 9979 |
Here, according to Nicholas's description of the beds and the manner of raiding, it was possible for us to catch the pirates in the act of stealing oysters, and at the same time to get them in our power. Charley was to be on the shore, with Mr. Taft's watchmen and a posse of constables, to help us at the right time. |
| 9980 |
The full moon was partly obscured by high flying clouds, but the pirates went their way with the familiarity born of long practice. After half a mile of the mud, we came upon a deep channel, up which we rowed, with dead oyster shoals looming high and dry on either side. At last we reached the picking grounds. |
| 9981 |
We rowed with all our strength, but it was slow going with so many boats in tow. A pistol cracked from the shoal, a second, and a third; then a regular fusillade began. The bullets spat and spat all about us; but thick clouds had covered the moon, and in the dim darkness it was no more than random firing. |
| 9982 |
This was the predicament of the pirates: because of the big run out, the tide was now rushing back like a mill race, and it was impossible for the strongest swimmer in the world to make against it the three miles to the sloops. Between the pirates and the shore were we, precluding escape in that direction. |
| 9983 |
On the other hand, the water was rising rapidly over the shoals, and it was only a question of a few hours when it would be over their heads. It was beautifully calm, and in the brilliant white moonlight we watched them through our night glasses and told Charley of the voyage of the Coal Tar Maggie. |
| 9984 |
With a snort of surprise and of suddenly expelled breath, the head and shoulder went down. We pulled ahead several strokes and drifted with the current. Four pairs of eyes searched the surface of the water, but never another ripple showed, and never another glimpse did we catch of the black head and white shoulder. |
| 9985 |
Our prisoner, a bronzed and bearded Greek, sat sullenly on his net while we sailed his craft. It was a new Columbia River salmon boat, evidently on its first trip, and it handled splendidly. Even when Charley praised it, our prisoner refused to speak or to notice us, and we soon gave him up as a most unsociable fellow. |
| 9986 |
The surprise was mutual, and we were on top of them before either they or we were aware. Charley had barely time to luff into the wind and run up to them. I ran forward and tossed them a line with orders to make it fast. One of the Italians took a turn with it over a cleat, while I hastened to lower our big spritsail. |
| 9987 |
The Italians were already half way down the ship's length; but the stiff breeze at our back drove us after them far faster than they could row. Closer and closer we came, and I, lying down forward, was just reaching out to grasp the skiff, when it ducked under the great stern of the Lancashire Queen. |
| 9988 |
The Italians were rowing up the starboard side of the ship, and we were hauled close on the wind and slowly edging out from the ship as we worked to windward. Then they darted around her bow and began the row down her port side, and we tacked about, crossed her bow, and went plunging down the wind hot after them. |
| 9989 |
By this time the ship's crew had become aware of what was taking place, and we could see their heads in a long row as they looked at us over the bulwarks. Each time we missed the skiff at the stern, they set up a wild cheer and dashed across to the other side of the Lancashire Queen to see the chase to windward. |
| 9990 |
It caught fairly and squarely on the rail of the skiff, which was jerked backward out of safety as the rope tautened and the salmon boat ploughed on. A groan went up from the row of sailors above, which quickly changed to a cheer as one of the Italians whipped out a long sheath knife and cut the rope. |
| 9991 |
Charley sat up, with one hand on his head, and gazed about him sheepishly. "It will never do to let them escape now," he said, at the same time drawing his revolver. On our next circuit, he threatened the Italians with the weapon; but they rowed on stolidly, keeping splendid stroke and utterly disregarding him. |
| 9992 |
It was an organized move on the part of the sailors, evidently countenanced by the captain; for by the time we arrived where the gangway had been, it was being hoisted up, and the skiff, slung in the ship's davits, was likewise flying aloft out of reach. The parley that followed with the captain was short and snappy. |
| 9993 |
He absolutely forbade us to board the Lancashire Queen, and as absolutely refused to give up the two men. By this time Charley was as enraged as the Greek. Not only had he been foiled in a long and ridiculous chase, but he had been knocked senseless into the bottom of his boat by the men who had escaped him. |
| 9994 |
We found that an imaginary line, drawn from the end of the wharf to a windmill farther along the shore, cut precisely in half the line of the triangle along which the Italians must escape to reach the land. This line made it easy for us to determine how far to let them run away before we bestirred ourselves in pursuit. |
| 9995 |
It was a problem apparently without other solution than that of patience. It was a waiting game, and whichever waited the longer was bound to win. To add to our irritation, friends of the Italians established a code of signals with them from the shore, so that we never dared relax the siege for a moment. |
| 9996 |
The days went by, and there was no change in the situation. Not that no attempts were made to change it. One night friends from the shore came out in a skiff and attempted to confuse us while the two Italians escaped. That they did not succeed was due to the lack of a little oil on the ship's davits. |
| 9997 |
Their patience seemed equal to ours, and the second week of the siege dragged monotonously along. Then Charley's lagging imagination quickened sufficiently to suggest a ruse. Peter Boyelen, a new patrolman and one unknown to the fisher folk, happened to arrive in Benicia, and we took him into our plan. |
| 9998 |
When we heard him coming along, paddling noisily, we slipped away a short distance into the darkness and rested on our oars. Opposite the gangway, having jovially hailed the anchor watch of the Lancashire Queen and asked the direction of the Scottish Chiefs, another wheat ship, he awkwardly capsized himself. |
| 9999 |
But the instructions of the Fish Commission were to the effect that the patrolmen should avoid complications, and this one, did we call on the higher powers, might well end in a pretty international tangle. The second week of the siege drew to its close, and there was no sign of change in the situation. |
| 10000 |
Three smokestacks, a good distance apart and raking well aft, arose in single file amidships; while the bow, long and lean and sharp as a knife, plainly advertised that the boat was made for speed. Passing under the stern, we read Streak, painted in small white letters. Charley and I were consumed with curiosity. |
| 10001 |
He was quite willing to satisfy our curiosity, and in a few minutes we learned that the Streak had come in after dark from San Francisco; that this was what might be called the trial trip; and that she was the property of Silas Tate, a young mining millionaire of California, whose fad was high speed yachts. |
| 10002 |
Charley and I took up our accustomed places, on the stringer piece, a little ahead of the Streak and over our own boat, where we could comfortably watch the Lancashire Queen. Nothing occurred till about nine o'clock, when we saw the two Italians leave the ship and pull along their side of the triangle toward the shore. |
| 10003 |
The men in the skiff rowed nearer the shore, but stood up again and scanned it, as if they thought we might be in hiding there. But a man came out on the beach and waved a handkerchief to indicate that the coast was clear. That settled them. They bent to the oars to make a dash for it. Still Charley waited. |
| 10004 |
We fairly flew. So frightful was the speed with which we displaced the water, that a wave rose up on either side our bow and foamed aft in a series of three stiff, up standing waves, while astern a great crested billow pursued us hungrily, as though at each moment it would fall aboard and destroy us. |
| 10005 |
Naturally, we had to slow down long before we got to them; but even then we shot past like a whirlwind and were compelled to circle back between them and the shore. They had rowed steadily, rising from the thwarts at every stroke, up to the moment we passed them, when they recognized Charley and me. |
| 10006 |
But there was one important restriction. From sun down Saturday night to sun up Monday morning, they were not permitted to set a net. This was a wise provision on the part of the Fish Commission, for it was necessary to give the spawning salmon some opportunity to ascend the river and lay their eggs. |
| 10007 |
And this law, with only an occasional violation, had been obediently observed by the Greek fishermen who caught salmon for the canneries and the market. One Sunday morning, Charley received a telephone call from a friend in Collinsville, who told him that the full force of fishermen was out with its nets. |
| 10008 |
But first let me describe the method by which they worked. The net used is what is known as a gill net. It has a simple diamond shaped mesh which measures at least seven and one half inches between the knots. From five to seven and even eight hundred feet in length, these nets are only a few feet wide. |
| 10009 |
But at the first heave we heard a bullet zip zipping past us on the water, followed by the faint report of a rifle. The men who had rowed ashore were shooting at us. At the next heave a second bullet went zipping past, perilously near. Charley took a turn around a pin and sat down. There were no more shots. |
| 10010 |
Yet, short of an armed force of soldiers, we could do nothing. The fishermen had hit upon a new idea and were using it for all it was worth, while there seemed no way by which we could get the better of them. About this time Neil Partington happened along from the Lower Bay, where he had been for a number of weeks. |
| 10011 |
With him was Nicholas, the Greek boy who had helped us in our raid on the oyster pirates, and the pair of them took a hand. We made our arrangements carefully. It was planned that while Charley and I tackled the nets, they were to be hidden ashore so as to ambush the fishermen who landed to shoot at us. |
| 10012 |
I puzzled my head a good deal to find out some way of checkmating the Greeks, as also did Charley, and we broached a thousand expedients which on discussion proved worthless. The fishermen, on the other hand, were in high feather, and their boasts went up and down the river to add to our discomfiture. |
| 10013 |
We were down on Steamboat Wharf, where the river steamers made their landings, and where we found a group of amused long shoremen and loafers listening to the hard luck tale of a sleepy eyed young fellow in long sea boots. He was a sort of amateur fisherman, he said, fishing for the local market of Berkeley. |
| 10014 |
Its curve was something like the curve of a sickle, but deeper. In the late afternoon the Mary Rebecca was launched, and preparations were finished for the start up river next morning. Charley and Ole intently studied the evening sky for signs of wind, for without a good breeze our project was doomed to failure. |
| 10015 |
The narrow space was our logical course, but Charley, at the wheel, steered the Mary Rebecca straight for the nets. This did not cause any alarm among the fishermen, because up river sailing craft are always provided with "shoes" on the ends of their keels, which permit them to slip over the nets without fouling them. |
| 10016 |
Buoy and boat at once began to draw together, and the fishermen to cry out, as they were jerked after us. A couple of minutes later we hooked a second net, and then a third, and in this fashion we tore straight up through the centre of the fleet. The consternation we spread among the fishermen was tremendous. |
| 10017 |
Ole Ericsen was rubbing his huge hands in child like glee. "ay tank you fish patrol fallers never ban so lucky as when you sail with Ole Ericsen," he was saying, when a rifle cracked sharply astern, and a bullet gouged along the newly painted cabin, glanced on a nail, and sang shrilly onward into space. |
| 10018 |
But the nets, fastened to the bottom of the Mary Rebecca well aft, held her stern into the wind, and she continued to plough on, though somewhat erratically. Charley, lying on the deck, could just manage to reach the lower spokes of the wheel; but while he could steer after a fashion, it was very awkward. |
| 10019 |
Crawling carefully along the deck, the two sailors, Ole, and myself got the heavy plate on deck and aft, where we reared it as a shield between the wheel and the fishermen. The bullets whanged and banged against it till it rang like a bull's eye, but Charley grinned in its shelter, and coolly went on steering. |
| 10020 |
The boats were strung along at unequal distances apart, and we saw the four nearest ones bunching together. This was done by the boat ahead trailing a small rope astern to the one behind. When this was caught, they would cast off from their net and heave in on the line till they were brought up to the boat in front. |
| 10021 |
Sometimes the men would strain to their utmost and fail to get in an inch of the rope; at other times they came ahead more rapidly. When the four boats were near enough together for a man to pass from one to another, one Greek from each of three got into the nearest boat to us, taking his rifle with him. |
| 10022 |
But the Greeks were undaunted. Unable, at the increased speed, to draw themselves nearer by means of their hands, they rigged from the blocks of their boat sail what sailors call a "watch tackle." One of them, held by the legs by his mates, would lean far over the bow and make the tackle fast to the float line. |
| 10023 |
The seafaring folk of Antioch had seen us breaking out topsail and staysail, a most reckless performance in such weather, and had hurried to the wharf ends in little groups to find out what was the matter. Straight down the water front we boomed, Charley edging in till a man could almost leap ashore. |
| 10024 |
It all happened in a flash, for the next minute Antioch was behind and we were heeling it up the San Joaquin toward Merryweather, six miles away. The river straightened out here into its general easterly course, and we squared away before the wind, wing and wing once more, the foresail bellying out to starboard. |
| 10025 |
Charley and the two sailors were looking hopeful, as they had good reason to be. Merryweather was a coal mining town, and, it being Sunday, it was reasonable to expect the men to be in town. Further, the coal miners had never lost any love for the Greek fishermen, and were pretty certain to render us hearty assistance. |
| 10026 |
We took in topsail and staysail, dropped the main peak, and as we got abreast of the principal wharf jibed the mainsail. The Mary Rebecca shot around into the wind, the captive fishermen describing a great arc behind her, and forged ahead till she lost way, when lines were flung ashore and she was made fast. |
| 10027 |
They lived far away from the law and its workings, did not understand it, and thought it tyranny. Especially did the fish laws seem tyrannical. And because of this, they looked upon the men of the fish patrol as their natural enemies. We menaced their lives, or their living, which is the same thing, in many ways. |
| 10028 |
We prevented them from catching fish at many times and seasons, which was equivalent to preventing them from making as good a living as they might have made had we not been in existence. And when we captured them, they were brought into the courts of law, where heavy cash fines were collected from them. |
| 10029 |
Our own boat was pretty fast, and we were not afraid to have a brush with any other that happened along. Sunday came. The challenge had been bruited abroad, and the fishermen and seafaring folk of Benicia turned out to a man, crowding Steamboat Wharf till it looked like the grand stand at a football match. |
| 10030 |
He tacked a score of feet from the wharf, waved his hand theatrically, like a knight about to enter the lists, received a hearty cheer in return, and stood away into the Straits for a couple of hundred yards. Then he lowered sail, and, drifting the boat sidewise by means of the wind, proceeded to set his net. |
| 10031 |
And they evidently advertised it to Demetrios, for he pulled in about a dozen feet of net, and held aloft for a moment, before he flung it into the bottom of the boat, a big, glistening salmon. It was greeted by the audience on the wharf with round after round of cheers. This was more than Charley could stand. |
| 10032 |
The crowd shouted warning to Demetrios, and as we darted out from the wharf we saw him slash his worthless net clear with a long knife. His sail was all ready to go up, and a moment later it fluttered in the sunshine. He ran aft, drew in the sheet, and filled on the long tack toward the Contra Costa Hills. |
| 10033 |
Again we had the afternoon sea breeze, and again Demetrios cut loose some forty or more feet of his rotten net, and got up sail and under way under our very noses. But he had anticipated Charley's move, and his own sail peaked higher than ever, while a whole extra cloth had been added to the after leech. |
| 10034 |
A little thing like this will happen to the best small boat sailors, and yet, though I instantly let go the sheet and righted, I was cheered sarcastically, as though I had been guilty of a very awkward blunder. When Demetrios saw only one person in the fish patrol boat, and that one a boy, he proceeded to play with me. |
| 10035 |
It was Demetrios who came to grief instead. Something went wrong with his centre board, so that it jammed in the case and would not go all the way down. In a moment's breathing space, which he had gained from me by a clever trick, I saw him working impatiently with the centre board, trying to force it down. |
| 10036 |
I gave him little time, and he was compelled quickly to return to the tiller and sheet. The centre board made him anxious. He gave over playing with me, and started on the long beat to Vallejo. To my joy, on the first long tack across, I found that I could eat into the wind just a little bit closer than he. |
| 10037 |
I sat cocked over the weather gunwale, tiller in one hand and sheet in the other; and the sheet, with a single turn around a pin, I was very often forced to let go in the severer puffs. This allowed the sail to spill the wind, which was equivalent to taking off so much driving power, and of course I lost ground. |
| 10038 |
My consolation was that Demetrios was as often compelled to do the same thing. The strong ebb tide, racing down the Straits in the teeth of the wind, caused an unusually heavy and spiteful sea, which dashed aboard continually. I was dripping wet, and even the sail was wet half way up the after leech. |
| 10039 |
To make it worse, the wind howled up San Pablo Bay for fifteen miles and drove in a tremendous sea upon the tide rip. Conflicting currents tore about in all directions, colliding, forming whirlpools, sucks, and boils, and shooting up spitefully into hollow waves which fell aboard as often from leeward as from windward. |
| 10040 |
Water logged and floating just beneath the surface, it was impossible to sight it in the troubled water in time to escape. The whole bow of the boat must have been crushed in, for in a few seconds the boat was half full. Then a couple of seas filled it, and it sank straight down, dragged to bottom by the heavy ballast. |
| 10041 |
I saw Demetrios Contos looking back from his boat, and heard the vindictive and mocking tones of his voice as he shouted exultantly. He held steadily on his course, leaving me to perish. There was nothing to do but to swim for it, which, in that wild confusion, was at the best a matter of but a few moments. |
| 10042 |
Yet there was very little breath I could catch to hold, and I swiftly discovered that it was not so much a matter of swimming as of breathing. I was beaten and buffeted, smashed under by the great San Pablo whitecaps, and strangled by the hollow tide rip waves which flung themselves into my eyes, nose, and mouth. |
| 10043 |
Then the strange sucks would grip my legs and drag me under, to spout me up in some fierce boiling, where, even as I tried to catch my breath, a great whitecap would crash down upon my head. It was impossible to survive any length of time. I was breathing more water than air, and drowning all the time. |
| 10044 |
I stood for the spirit of the law and not the letter; but by the letter Charley made his stand. As far as he could see, there was nothing else for him to do. The law said distinctly that no salmon should be caught on Sunday. He was a patrolman, and it was his duty to enforce that law. That was all there was to it. |
| 10045 |
The jury was out only fifteen minutes, and returned a verdict of guilty. The judge sentenced Demetrios to pay a fine of one hundred dollars or go to jail for fifty days. Charley stepped up to the clerk of the court. "I want to pay that fine," he said, at the same time placing five twenty dollar gold pieces on the desk. |
| 10046 |
Then, not to be outdone in generosity, he insisted on paying his fine and lawyer's fee himself, and flew half way into a passion because Charley refused to let him. More than anything else we ever did, I think, this action of Charley's impressed upon the fishermen the deeper significance of the law. |
| 10047 |
Also Charley was raised high in their esteem, while I came in for a little share of praise as a boy who knew how to sail a boat. Demetrios Contos not only never broke the law again, but he became a very good friend of ours, and on more than one occasion he ran up to Benicia to have a gossip with us. |
| 10048 |
As that was his home and as I was to live with his family while going to school, he saw no reason, he said, why I should not put my chest aboard and come along. So the chest went aboard, and in the middle of the afternoon we hoisted the Reindeer's big mainsail and cast off. It was tantalizing fall weather. |
| 10049 |
He was suffering from a bad cold, which doubled him up in convulsive coughing spells and made his eyes heavy and bloodshot. This made him more evil looking than ever, and when he glared viciously at me, I remembered with a shiver the close shave I had had with him at the time of his previous arrest. |
| 10050 |
He pinioned my right arm so that I could not withdraw my hand from my pocket, and at the same time clapped his other hand over my mouth. Of course, I could have struggled away from him and freed my hand or gotten my mouth clear so that I might cry an alarm, but in a trice Yellow Handkerchief was on top of me. |
| 10051 |
My feelings, as my fate hung in the balance, may be guessed. The discussion developed into a quarrel, in the midst of which Yellow Handkerchief unshipped the heavy tiller and sprang toward me. But his four companions threw themselves between, and a clumsy struggle took place for possession of the tiller. |
| 10052 |
The edge of the shell was also brittle, and I broke it by bearing too heavily upon it. Then I rolled back to the heap and returned with as many shells as I could carry in both hands. I broke many shells, cut my hands a number of times, and got cramps in my legs from my strained position and my exertions. |
| 10053 |
While I was suffering from the cramps, and resting, I heard the familiar halloo drift across the water. It was Charley, searching for me. The gag in my mouth prevented me from replying, and I could only lie there, helplessly fuming, while he rowed past the island and his voice slowly lost itself in the distance. |
| 10054 |
I returned to the sawing process, and at the end of half an hour succeeded in severing the rope. The rest was easy. My hands once free, it was a matter of minutes to loosen my legs and to take the gag out of my mouth. I ran around the island to make sure it was an island and not by chance a portion of the mainland. |
| 10055 |
This helped me, for, under the shield of his noise and making no more myself than necessary, I managed to cover fifty feet by the time he had made the beach. Here I lay down in the mud. It was cold and clammy, and made me shiver, but I did not care to stand up and run the risk of being discovered by his sharp eyes. |
| 10056 |
But I was sure that the first thing he did was to make the circuit of the beach to learn if landings had been made by other boats. This he would have known at once by the tracks through the mud. Convinced that no boat had removed me from the island, he next started to find out what had become of me. |
| 10057 |
Beginning at the pile of clam shells, he lighted matches to trace my tracks in the sand. At such times I could see his villanous face plainly, and, when the sulphur from the matches irritated his lungs, between the raspy cough that followed and the clammy mud in which I was lying, I confess I shivered harder than ever. |
| 10058 |
Then the idea that I might be out in the mud must have struck him, for he waded out a few yards in my direction, and, stooping, with his eyes searched the dim surface long and carefully. He could not have been more than fifteen feet from me, and had he lighted a match he would surely have discovered me. |
| 10059 |
Not daring to wade upright, on account of the noise made by floundering and by the suck of the mud, I remained lying down in the mud and propelled myself over its surface by means of my hands. Still keeping the trail made by the Chinese in going from and to the junk, I held on until I had reached the water. |
| 10060 |
The thought came to me of going toward Yellow Handkerchief's skiff and escaping in it, but at that very moment he returned to the beach, and, as though fearing the very thing I had in mind, he slushed out through the mud to assure himself that the skiff was safe. This turned me in the opposite direction. |
| 10061 |
I drew myself out on the mud and remained lying flat. Again Yellow Handkerchief returned to the beach and made a search of the island, and again he returned to the heap of clam shells. I knew what was running in his mind as well as he did himself. No one could leave or land without making tracks in the mud. |
| 10062 |
But there was no such mark; and I knew that he was absolutely convinced that I was hiding somewhere in the mud. But to hunt on a dark night for a boy in a sea of mud would be like hunting for a needle in a haystack, and he did not attempt it. Instead he went back to the beach and prowled around for some time. |
| 10063 |
I shivered till the muscles of the small of my back ached and pained me as badly as the cold, and I had need of all my self control to force myself to remain in my miserable situation. It was well that I did, however, for, possibly an hour later, I thought I could make out something moving on the beach. |
| 10064 |
I watched intently, but my ears were rewarded first, by a raspy cough I knew only too well. Yellow Handkerchief had sneaked back, landed on the other side of the island, and crept around to surprise me if I had returned. After that, though hours passed without sign of him, I was afraid to return to the island at all. |
| 10065 |
I thought I should never get them off. So numb and lifeless were my fingers, and so weak was I, that it seemed to take an hour to get off my shoes. I had not the strength to break the porpoise hide laces, and the knots defied me. I repeatedly beat my hands upon the rocks to get some sort of life into them. |
| 10066 |
They may have exceeded the speed limit. A mounted park policeman thought so, but was not sure, and contented himself with cautioning them as they flashed by. They acknowledged the warning promptly, and on the next turn of the path as promptly forgot it, which is also a custom of boys in bright colored sweaters. |
| 10067 |
Joe did not see these glances, but Bessie saw them, every one. Mr. Bronson was a middle aged man, well developed and of heavy build, though not fat. His was a rugged face, square jawed and stern featured, though his eyes were kindly and there were lines about the mouth that betokened laughter rather than severity. |
| 10068 |
She rumpled his hair affectionately, and bent and kissed him. Mr. Bronson smiled approval at him as he went out, and he hurried up the stairs, resolved to dig hard and pass the examinations of the coming day. Entering his room, he locked the door and sat down at a desk most comfortably arranged for a boy's study. |
| 10069 |
He must look them up. He felt quite studious as he ran over the back pages, till he chanced to raise his eyes above the top of the book and saw on a chair a baseball mask and a catcher's glove. They shouldn't have lost that game last Saturday, he thought, and they wouldn't have, either, if it hadn't been for Fred. |
| 10070 |
But the baseball mask bothered him. The more he attempted to keep his mind on the history the more in his mind's eye he saw the mask resting on the chair and all the games in which it had played its part. This would never do. He deliberately placed the book face downward on the desk and walked over to the chair. |
| 10071 |
With a swift sweep he sent both mask and glove hurtling under the bed, and so violently that he heard the mask rebound from the wall. Shortly after the Draconian reforms, a war broke out between Athens and Megara The mask had rolled back from the wall. He wondered if it had rolled back far enough for him to see it. |
| 10072 |
He wondered He peered over the top of the book, and there was the mask peeping out at him from under the edge of the bed. This was not to be borne. There was no use attempting to study while that mask was around. He went over and fished it out, crossed the room to the closet, and tossed it inside, then locked the door. |
| 10073 |
What could cause it? He looked out of the window. The setting sun was slanting its long rays against low hanging masses of summer clouds, turning them to warm scarlet and rosy red; and it was from them that the red light, mellow and glowing, was flung earthward. His gaze dropped from the clouds to the bay beneath. |
| 10074 |
He jerked himself away from the window as though held there by some physical force, and resolutely carried his chair and history into the farthest corner of the room, where he sat down with his back to the window. An instant later, so it seemed to him, he found himself again staring out of the window and dreaming. |
| 10075 |
This denoted nearly an hour's lapse of time. The sun had long since set; a solemn grayness was brooding over the water, and the first faint stars were beginning to twinkle over the crest of Mount Tamalpais. He turned, with a sigh, to go back into his corner, when a long whistle, shrill and piercing, came to his ears. |
| 10076 |
Well, they wouldn't see him this night. Both whistles arose in duet. He writhed in his chair and groaned. No, they wouldn't see him this night, he reiterated, at the same time rising to his feet. It was certainly impossible for him to join them when he had not yet learned about the Draconian reforms. |
| 10077 |
The sailorman made kites which were not only splendid fliers but which folded up and were very convenient to carry. Each of the boys bought a few, and, with them wrapped in compact bundles and under their arms, started back on the return journey. "Keep a sharp lookout for the b'ys," the kite maker cautioned them. |
| 10078 |
At sight of the group on the corner, the rabble at the heels of the three boys melted away on the instant with like manifestations of fear. This but increased the anxiety of the boys, though they held boldly on their way. The red haired boy detached himself from the group, and stepped before them, blocking their path. |
| 10079 |
The latter desire dominated him, and he turned and fled swiftly down the narrow side street into a labyrinth of streets and alleys. Joe knew that he was plunging into the wilderness of the enemy's country, but his sense of both property and pride had been offended, and he took up the pursuit hot footed. |
| 10080 |
Brick Simpson darted into a vacant lot, aiming for a "slip," as such things are called which are prearranged passages through fences and over sheds and houses and around dark holes and corners, where the unfamiliar pursuer must go more carefully and where the chances are many that he will soon lose the track. |
| 10081 |
Almost instantly Simpson drove in a fierce blow and ducked cleverly away and out of reach of the blow which Joe returned. Joe felt a sudden respect for the abilities of his antagonist, but the only effect upon him was to arouse all the doggedness of his nature and make him utterly determined to win. |
| 10082 |
Simpson fell, but he fell over on one side, whither he had been driven by the impact of Joe's fist upon his head. He rolled over and got half way to his feet, where he remained, crying and gasping. His followers called upon him to get up, and he tried once or twice, but was too exhausted and stunned. |
| 10083 |
The telltale hair, vividly red, sprouted likewise on this lad's head, and Joe knew him at once for what he was, another member of the Simpson clan. He was a younger edition of his brothers, somewhat less heavily built, with a face covered with a vast quantity of freckles, which showed plainly under the electric light. |
| 10084 |
Joe looked curiously at this latest band of marauders. They were young men of from seventeen and eighteen to twenty three and four years of age, and bore the unmistakable stamp of the hoodlum class. There were vicious faces among them faces so vicious as to make Joe's flesh creep as he looked at them. |
| 10085 |
So they took to their heels in the direction of Brick Simpson's slip, the policemen hot after them and yelling bravely for them to halt. But young feet are nimble, and young feet when frightened become something more than nimble, and the boys were first over the fence and plunging wildly through a maze of back yards. |
| 10086 |
No street lamps shed their light here, and the boys blundered along through the blackness with their hearts in their mouths. In one yard, filled with mountains of crates and fruit boxes, they were lost for a quarter of an hour. Feel and quest about as they would, they encountered nothing but endless heaps of boxes. |
| 10087 |
Farther on they came upon the contrivance which had soaked Brick Simpson's pursuers with water. It was a cunning arrangement. Where the slip led through a fence with a board missing, a long slat was so arranged that the ignorant wayfarer could not fail to strike against it. This slat was the spring of the trap. |
| 10088 |
A light touch upon it was sufficient to disconnect a heavy stone from a barrel perched overhead and nicely balanced. The disconnecting of the stone permitted the barrel to turn over and spill its contents on the one beneath who touched the slat. The boys examined the arrangement with keen appreciation. |
| 10089 |
Not far away was the sound of some one moving about. Then they heard a noise of falling water, as from a faucet into a bucket. This was followed by steps boldly approaching. They crouched lower, breathless with apprehension. A dark form passed by within arm's reach and mounted on a box to the fence. |
| 10090 |
Severely as the reflected sunlight from the cement sidewalk hurt his bruised eye, and severely as his various wounds pained him, still more severely did he suffer from his muscles and joints. He had never imagined such stiffness. Each individual muscle in his whole body protested when called upon to move. |
| 10091 |
He heard the nine o'clock bell with feelings of relief, and passed into the school, a mark for admiring glances from all the boys. The girls, too, looked at him in a timid and fearful way as they might have looked at Daniel when he came out of the lions' den, Joe thought, or at David after his battle with Goliath. |
| 10092 |
There was nothing to be done but flunk. And when, after an age of waiting, the papers were collected, his went in a blank, save for his name, the name of the examination, and the date, which were written across the top. After a brief interval, more papers were given out, and the examination in arithmetic began. |
| 10093 |
The cook placed a frying pan on the stove, wiped it around with a piece of suet when it had heated, and tossed in a thick chunk of beefsteak. While he worked he talked with a companion on deck, who was busily engaged in filling a bucket overside and flinging the salt water over heaps of oysters that lay on the deck. |
| 10094 |
And as for public school He sighed deeply at the thought of it. He was given till evening to make up his mind as to what he intended to do. Well, he knew what he would do, and he did not have to wait till evening to find it out. He got up with a determined look on his face, put on his hat, and went out the front door. |
| 10095 |
He went straight home and to his room, where he busied himself at once with putting everything in order. His clothes he hung carefully away, changing the suit he had on for an older one. From his bureau he selected a couple of changes of underclothing, a couple of cotton shirts, and half a dozen pairs of socks. |
| 10096 |
Then he stretched himself on the narrow side deck and dangled his feet in the cool salt water. "Now that's freedom," thought the boys who watched him. Besides, those long sea boots, reaching to the hips and buckled to the leather strap about the waist, held a strange and wonderful fascination for them. |
| 10097 |
The Dazzler was short one in its crew, and he had to do more work than was justly his share. He did not mind the cooking, nor the washing down of the decks and the pumping; but when it came to the paint scrubbing and dishwashing he rebelled. He felt that he had earned the right to be exempt from such scullion work. |
| 10098 |
The blankets were rolled back, and the boys sat on the well scrubbed bunk boards while they ate. A swinging sea lamp of brightly polished brass gave them light, which in the daytime could be obtained through the four deadeyes, or small round panes of heavy glass which were fitted into the walls of the cabin. |
| 10099 |
But suddenly a man sprang out of the gloom, flashing a dark lantern full upon him. Blinded by the light, he staggered back. Then a revolver in the man's hand went off like the roar of a cannon. All Joe realized was that he was being shot at, while his legs manifested an overwhelming desire to get away. |
| 10100 |
The other skiff lay closer inshore, partially aground. Bill was trying to shove it off, and was calling on the Cockney to lend a hand; but that gentleman had lost his head completely, and came floundering through the water hard after Joe. No sooner had Joe climbed in over the stern than he followed him. |
| 10101 |
The squall which had so nearly capsized the Dazzler was of short duration, but it marked the rising of the wind, and soon puff after puff was shrieking down upon them out of the north. The mainsail was spilling the wind, and slapping and thrashing about till it seemed it would tear itself to pieces. |
| 10102 |
To lay out on the long bowsprit and put a single reef in the jib was a slight task compared with what had been already accomplished; so a few moments later they were again in the cockpit. Under the other lad's directions, Joe flattened down the jib sheet, and, going into the cabin, let down a foot or so of centerboard. |
| 10103 |
The skiff was towing with too long a painter, and was behaving very badly. Every once in a while it would hold back till the tow rope tautened, then come leaping ahead and sheering and dropping slack till it threatened to shove its nose under the huge whitecaps which roared so hungrily on every hand. |
| 10104 |
Joe threw off all the turns save the last, which he held with one hand, while with the other he attempted to bring in on the painter. But at that instant it tightened with a tremendous jerk, the boat sheering sharply into the crest of a heavy sea. The rope slipped from his hands and began to fly out over the stern. |
| 10105 |
There had been too much excitement for him to feel in the least like sleeping. He could not bear to think of it with the Dazzler leaping and surging along and shattering the seas into clouds of spray on her weather bow. His clothes had half dried already, and he preferred to stay on deck and enjoy it. |
| 10106 |
Somewhere over in that maze of light and shadow was the home of his father, and perhaps even now they were thinking and worrying about him; and over there Bessie was sleeping cozily, to wake up in the morning and wonder why her brother Joe did not come down to breakfast. Joe shivered. It was almost morning. |
| 10107 |
It was one to appeal to any healthy boy, and he was no exception. The romance of it stirred him strangely, and his happiness would have been complete could he have escaped remembering who and what his companions were. The thought of this, and of French Pete in his bleary sleep below, marred the beauty of the day. |
| 10108 |
He had been unused to such things and was shocked at the harsh reality of life. But instead of hurting him, as it might a lad of weaker nature, it had the opposite effect. It strengthened his desire to be clean and strong, and to not be ashamed of himself in his own eyes. He glanced about him and sighed. |
| 10109 |
The report of a gun came to him from the shore, but his back was in that direction and he did not bother to turn around. A second report followed, and a bullet cut the water within a couple of feet of his oar blade. This time he did turn around. The soldier on the beach was leveling his rifle at him for a third shot. |
| 10110 |
Perhaps there were no soldiers farther on, and if he only once got ashore he did not care how quickly they captured him. He might catch the smallpox, but even that was better than going back to the bay pirates. He whirled the skiff half about to the right, and threw all his strength against the oars. |
| 10111 |
Had he been more of a sailor, he would have gone in the other direction for the opposite point, and thus had the wind on his pursuers. As it was, the Dazzler had a beam wind in which to overtake him. It was nip and tuck for a while. The breeze was light and not very steady, so sometimes he gained and sometimes they. |
| 10112 |
French Pete was aghast. He was being defied aboard his own vessel and by a boy! Never had such a thing been heard of. He knew he was committing an unlawful act in detaining him, but at the same time he was afraid to let him go with the information he had gathered concerning the sloop and its occupation. |
| 10113 |
Later they crossed the fairway, where the ferry steamers, crowded with passengers, passed to and fro between San Francisco and Oakland. One came so close that the passengers crowded to the side to see the gallant little sloop and the two boys in the cockpit. Joe gazed enviously at the row of down turned faces. |
| 10114 |
The seriousness of life was striking deeper than ever into Joe's heart, and he lay silent, thinking hard. A mumble of heavy voices came to them from the Reindeer; and from the land the solemn notes of a church bell floated across the water, while the summer night wrapped them slowly in its warm darkness. |
| 10115 |
Joe sat and marveled that the Frenchman should know where he was going. To Joe it seemed that they were lost in the impenetrable darkness which shrouded them. A high fog had rolled in from the Pacific, and though they were beneath, it came between them and the stars, depriving them of the little light from that source. |
| 10116 |
He was forced to hold on to the boom overhead to steady himself. It was a gray and leaden day, with no signs of the rising sun, while the sky was obscured by great masses of flying clouds. Joe sought for the land. A mile and a half away it lay a long, low stretch of sandy beach with a heavy surf thundering upon it. |
| 10117 |
Changing the direction of his gaze, Joe was startled by the sight of a small sloop rolling and plunging at her anchor not a hundred yards away. She was nearly to windward, and as she swung off slightly he read her name on the stern, the Flying Dutchman, one of the boats he had seen lying at the city wharf in Oakland. |
| 10118 |
So far as the Dazzler was concerned, it was a simple matter, and soon they were putting a single reef in the mainsail and getting ready to weigh anchor. Joe was curious. These were undoubtedly the oyster beds; but how under the sun, in that wild sea, were they to get oysters? He was quickly to learn the way. |
| 10119 |
At the apex of one of these triangles; in a ring for the purpose, he made fast a piece of stout rope. From this the sides (inch rods) diverged at almost right angles, and extended down for a distance of four feet or more, where they were connected by the third side of the triangle, which was the bottom of the dredge. |
| 10120 |
The boys laid hold of the line and hove in the dredge. The net was full of mud and slime and small oysters, with here and there a large one. This mess they dumped on the deck and picked over while the dredge was dragging again. The large oysters they threw into the cockpit, and shoveled the rubbish overboard. |
| 10121 |
French Pete was up and down every few minutes. Twice, when he went on deck, he paid out more chain and rope. Joe lay in his blankets and listened, the while vainly courting sleep. He was not frightened, but he was untrained in the art of sleeping in the midst of such turmoil and uproar and violent commotion. |
| 10122 |
Nor had he imagined a boat could play as wild antics as did the Dazzler and still survive. Often she wallowed over on her beam till he thought she would surely capsize. At other times she leaped and plunged in the air and fell upon the seas with thunderous crashes as though her bottom were shattered to fragments. |
| 10123 |
Joe looked on curiously, and by the dim light of the wildly swinging sea lamp saw him drag out two spare coils of line. These he took up on deck, and Joe knew he was bending them on to the hawsers to make them still longer. At half past four French Pete had the fire going, and at five he called the boys for coffee. |
| 10124 |
Joe was nonplussed for the moment. He could see no bearing between the two in point, and, anyway, girls were rather silly creatures to waste one's time over. "He's actually blushing," he thought, regarding the soft glow on the other's cheeks. He felt an irresistible desire to laugh, and tried to smother it down. |
| 10125 |
A little wharf ran out, the bare end of which was perceptible to them, though they could discern a small yacht lying moored to a buoy a short distance away. According to their custom, everything was put in readiness for hasty departure. The anchors could be tripped and the sails flung out on a moment's notice. |
| 10126 |
Not a dog barked, not a light flared. Yet the air seemed quivering with an alarm about to burst forth. The night had taken on a strained feeling of intensity, as though it held in store all kinds of terrible things. The boys felt this keenly as they huddled against each other in the cockpit and waited. |
| 10127 |
I crawled into a haystack to sleep one night, because it was warmer, and along comes a village constable and arrests me for being a tramp. At first they thought I was a runaway, and telegraphed my description all over. I told them I didn't have any people, but they wouldn't believe me for a long while. |
| 10128 |
The cabin doors were thrown apart, and it was moved along, end for end, till it lay on the cabin floor, snug against the end of the centerboard case. Red Nelson had followed it aboard to superintend. His left arm hung helpless at his side, and from the finger tips blood dripped with monotonous regularity. |
| 10129 |
So he, too, began to experience a keen interest in the escape of the Dazzler. The pursuing sloop rounded up hurriedly to come about after them, and in the darkness fouled the yacht which lay at anchor. The man aboard of her, thinking that at last his time had come, gave one wild yell, ran on deck, and leaped overboard. |
| 10130 |
But the darkness favored, and he heard no more of it perhaps because he worked into the wind closer by a point, and held on his way with a shaking after leech. Shortly after dawn, the two boys were called and came sleepily on deck. The day had broken cold and gray, while the wind had attained half a gale. |
| 10131 |
San Francisco lay a smoky blur on the southern horizon, while the night, still lingering on the western edge of the world, slowly withdrew before their eyes. French Pete was just finishing a long reach into the Raccoon Straits, and at the same time studiously regarding a plunging sloop yacht half a mile astern. |
| 10132 |
It was magnificent this battle between man and the elements. Whatever timidity he had entertained fled away, and Joe's nostrils began to dilate and his eyes to flash at the nearness of the impending struggle. French Pete called for his oilskins and sou'wester, and Joe also was equipped with a spare suit. |
| 10133 |
French Pete luffed straight into it, and the Dazzler mounted the steep slope with a rush, poised a moment on the giddy summit, and fell into the yawning valley beyond. Keeping off in the intervals to fill the mainsail, and luffing into the combers, they worked their way across the dangerous stretch. |
| 10134 |
Half an hour later the Dazzler sped beyond the last smoking sea and was sliding up and down on the long Pacific swell. The wind had increased its velocity and necessitated a reefing down of jib and mainsail. Then they laid off again, full and free on the starboard tack, for the Farralones, thirty miles away. |
| 10135 |
There was a quick snap, followed by a crash. The steel weather rigging carried away at the lanyards, and mast, jib, mainsail, blocks, stays, sea anchor, French Pete everything went over the side. Almost by a miracle, the captain clutched at the bobstay and managed to get one hand up and over the bowsprit. |
| 10136 |
One of the men was clinging to the perilous after deck and striving to cast off the water logged skiff. The boy, leaning far over the cockpit rail and holding on for dear life, was passing him a knife. The second man stood at the wheel, putting it up with flying hands and forcing the sloop to pay off. |
| 10137 |
With a couple of buckets procured from the stern lockers, they proceeded to fling the water overboard. It was heartbreaking work, for many a barrelful was flung back upon them again; but they persevered, and when night fell the Dazzler, bobbing merrily at her sea anchor, could boast that her pumps sucked once more. |
| 10138 |
You can either coach him in his studies, for I am confident now that you will be up in yours hereafter, or he can attend night school. And after that, if he comes through his period of probation with flying colors, I'll give him the same opportunities for an education that you possess. It all depends on himself. |
| 10139 |
He just strolled into the light of my camp, passed the time of day after the custom of men on beaten trails, threw my snowshoes the one way and a couple of dogs the other, and so made room for himself by the fire. Said he'd just dropped in to borrow a pinch of soda and to see if I had any decent tobacco. |
| 10140 |
Wherefore I looked about me; saw the fly and, underneath, the pine boughs spread for the sleeping furs; saw the grub sacks, the camera, the frosty breaths of the dogs circling on the edge of the light; and, above, a great streamer of the aurora, bridging the zenith from south east to north west. I shivered. |
| 10141 |
Half, at least, of its goodly store had vamosed. That settled it. Fancy had not tricked me after all. Crazed with suffering, I thought, looking steadfastly at the man one of those wild stampeders, strayed far from his bearings and wandering like a lost soul through great vastnesses and unknown deeps. |
| 10142 |
He had killed the Siberian wolf of westernmost Alaska, and the chamois in the secret Rockies. He averred he knew the haunts where the last buffalo still roamed; that he had hung on the flanks of the caribou when they ran by the hundred thousand, and slept in the Great Barrens on the musk ox's winter trail. |
| 10143 |
It was of the great bear that hugs the steep slopes of St Elias, never descending to the levels of the gentler inclines. Now God so constituted this creature for its hillside habitat that the legs of one side are all of a foot longer than those of the other. This is mighty convenient, as will be reality admitted. |
| 10144 |
Not he. He sniffed, looked on me, and sniffed again; then gave my tobacco due praise, thrust one foot into my lap, and bade me examine the gear. It was a mucluc of the Innuit pattern, sewed together with sinew threads, and devoid of beads or furbelows. But it was the skin itself that was remarkable. |
| 10145 |
I caught a rear end glimpse, with a stiff tail, as big in girth as my body, standing out straight behind. The next second only a tremendous hole remained in the thicket, though I could still hear the sounds as of a tornado dying quickly away, underbrush ripping and tearing, and trees snapping and crashing. |
| 10146 |
Speaking of grub, I might as well stop long enough to explain a couple of points. Up thereabouts, in the midst of the mountains, is an almighty curious formation. There is no end of little valleys, each like the other much as peas in a pod, and all neatly tucked away with straight, rocky walls rising on all sides. |
| 10147 |
And I knew, also, that that stood for skookum mamook pukapuk excuse Chinook, I mean there was a big fight coming. Now the mouth of my valley was very narrow, and the walls steep. High up on one side was one of those big pivot rocks, or balancing rocks, as some call them, weighing all of a couple of hundred tons. |
| 10148 |
It wasn't worth anything with the rifle smashed; so I opened the shells, planted the powder under the rock, and touched it off with slow fuse. Wasn't much of a charge, but the old boulder tilted up lazily and dropped down into place, with just space enough to let the creek drain nicely. Now I had him. |
| 10149 |
Of course, he'd get desperate at times and turn. Then I'd head for soft ground where the creek spread out, and lay anathema upon him and his ancestry, and dare him to come on. But he was too wise to bog in a mud puddle. Once he pinned me in against the walls, and I crawled back into a deep crevice and waited. |
| 10150 |
This was to frighten me, of course; and when he thought I was sufficiently impressed, he'd back away softly and try to make a sneak for the creek. Sometimes I'd let him get almost there only a couple of hundred yards away it was when out I'd pop and back he'd come, lumbering along like the old landslide he was. |
| 10151 |
His spirit broke and he became a quivering jelly mountain of misery. He'd get attacks of palpitation of the heart, and stagger around like a drunken man, and fall down and bark his shins. And then he'd cry, but always on the run. O man, the gods themselves would have wept with him, and you yourself or any other man. |
| 10152 |
When I found he wouldn't budge, I hamstrung him, and spent the better part of the day wading into him with the hand axe, he a sniffing and sobbing till I worked in far enough to shut him off. Thirty feet long he was, and twenty high, and a man could sling a hammock between his tusks and sleep comfortably. |
| 10153 |
In token of my appreciation, and in return for the moccasins on your own feet, I will present to you these muclucs. They commemorate Klooch and the seven blind little beggars. They are also souvenirs of an unparalleled event in history, namely, the destruction of the oldest breed of animal on earth, and the youngest. |
| 10154 |
Then I took apart his gun and put the barrel by handy, and afterwards braided many wicks from the cotton that the women gather wild in the summer. When he came back, it was with the bone I had commanded, and with news that in the igloo of Tummasook there was a five gallon kerosene can and a big copper kettle. |
| 10155 |
Then do thou lift thy voice in pain and double up with clasped hands, and make outcry in token that thou, too, hast felt the visitation of the night. And in this way shall we achieve honour and great possessions, and the caddy of "Star" and the prime smoking, and thy Tukeliketa, who is a likely maiden. |
| 10156 |
There was much noise, and a wailing among the women, and fear sat heavily on all. Tummasook and the woman Ipsukuk rolled on the ground in pain, and with them there were divers others, also Moosu. I thrust aside those that cluttered the way of my feet, and put the mouth of the bottle to Moosu's lips. |
| 10157 |
Whereat there was a great clamour for the bottle from the others so stricken. But I made harangue, and ere they tasted and were made well I had mulcted Tummasook of his copper kettle and kerosene can, and the woman Ipsukuk of her sugar and molasses, and the other sick ones of goodly measures of flour. |
| 10158 |
The news of the magic potion spread. It was too marvellous for utterance. Tongues could tell but a tithe of the miracles it performed. It eased pain, gave surcease to sorrow, brought back old memories, dead faces, and forgotten dreams. It was a fire that ate through all the blood, and, burning, burned not. |
| 10159 |
And such stores poured in that I set Moosu to build a cache to hold them, for there was soon no space in the igloo. Ere three days had passed Tummasook had gone bankrupt. The shaman, who was never more than half drunk after the first night, watched me closely and hung on for the better part of the week. |
| 10160 |
Walk softly and wait, and we will grasp it all. But grasp now, and we grasp little, and in the end it will be nothing. Thou art a child in the way of the white man's wisdom. Hold thy tongue and watch, and I will show you the way my brothers do overseas, and, so doing, gather to themselves the riches of the earth. |
| 10161 |
Thy wisdom is worse than no wisdom and thine eyes blinded to business, of which I have spoken and whereof thou knowest nothing. Go, thou son of a thousand fools, and drink of the hooch that Neewak brews in his igloo, and thank thy gods that thou hast a white man's wisdom to make soft the bed thou liest in. |
| 10162 |
Moosu went, but I sat alone, with the song of the still in my ears, and the air thick with the shaman's tobacco; for trade was slack that night, and no one dropped in but Angeit, a young hunter that had faith in me. Later, Moosu came back, his speech thick with chuckling and his eyes wrinkling with laughter. |
| 10163 |
And he took Tummasook and Ipsukuk alone of all the company and set them apart, and bade them drink and drink and drink. And they drank and drank and drank, and yet sat solemn and cold, till Tummasook arose in wrath and demanded back the furs and the tea he had paid. And Ipsukuk raised her voice, thin and angry. |
| 10164 |
He also inveigled the father of Tukeliketa into the game. And one day he married the maiden, and the next day he moved into the shaman's house, which was the finest in the village. The fall of Neewak was complete, for he lost all his possessions, his walrus hide drums, his incantation tools everything. |
| 10165 |
He laid tithes upon the people, harangued about fat firstlings and such things, and twisted whatever twisted texts he had ever heard to serve his purpose. Even this I bore in silence, but when he instituted what may be likened to a graduated income tax, I rebelled, and blindly, for this was what he worked for. |
| 10166 |
So I made overtures, but the ex chief refused bluntly after I had paid the purchase price and informed me that she was set aside for Moosu. This was too much, and I was half of a mind to go to his igloo and slay him with my naked hands; but I recollected that the tobacco was near gone, and went home laughing. |
| 10167 |
I have crossed thy will, and scoffed at thy authority, and done divers evil and wanton things. Wherefore, last night a vision was vouchsafed me, and I have seen the wickedness of my ways. And thou stoodst forth like a shining star, with brows aflame, and I knew in mine own heart thy greatness. I saw all things clearly. |
| 10168 |
And first, Esanetuk, who be sick tumtum, fought with Kluktu, and there was much noise. And next, being daughters of the one mother, did they fight with Tukeliketa. And after that did they three fall upon Moosu, like wind squalls, from every hand, till he ran forth from the igloo, and the people mocked him. |
| 10169 |
Then I went among them, speaking fearsomely of the unknown things, of the dead that come and go like shadows and do evil deeds, till they cried aloud in terror and gathered all together, like little children afraid of the dark. Neewak made harangue, laying this evil that had come upon them at the door of Moosu. |
| 10170 |
But his face was impassive as a Yukon Indian's should be, as he pulled on his mittens and went out the door. Though eight o'clock, it was still dark outside, and the cabin was lighted by a tallow candle thrust into an empty whisky bottle. It stood on the pine board table in the middle of a disarray of dirty tin dishes. |
| 10171 |
But three sixes turned up on his first shake. A great doubt rose in the other's eyes, and hope returned into his. He had one more shake. Another six and he would go over the ice to salt water and the States. He rattled the dice in the box, made as though to cast them, hesitated, and continued rattle them. |
| 10172 |
The dice rolled forth, an upturned six meeting their eyes. Both men sat staring at it. There was a long silence. Hutchinson shot a covert glance at his partner, who, still more covertly, caught it, and pursed up his lips in an attempt to advertise his unconcern. Hutchinson laughed as he got up on his feet. |
| 10173 |
She was all she ought to be, to be Lawrence Pentfield's wife, he wrote. He was enthusiastic, and his letter sent the blood tingling through Pentfield's veins. Other letters followed, one on the heels of another, and sometimes two or three together when the mail lumped up. And they were all in the same tenor. |
| 10174 |
Also, a thread of timidity that was near to disinclination ran through them concerning the trip in over the ice and the Dawson marriage. Pentfield wrote back heartily, laughing at her fears, which he took to be the mere physical ones of danger and hardship rather than those bred of maidenly reserve. |
| 10175 |
His luck ran with him till the second week in February. How much farther it might have run is conjectural; for, after one big game, he never played again. It was in the Opera House that it occurred, and for an hour it had seemed that he could not place his money on a card without making the card a winner. |
| 10176 |
In the evening there was a feast, and he sat in honour beside the chief; and next morning he headed his dogs back toward the Yukon. But he no longer travelled alone. A young squaw fed his dogs for him that night and helped to pitch camp. She had been mauled by a bear in her childhood and suffered from a slight limp. |
| 10177 |
The nine days' wonder that followed arose not so much out of the fact of the squaw whom Lawrence Pentfield had taken to bed and board as out of the ceremony that had legalized the tie. The properly sanctioned marriage was the one thing that passed the community's comprehension. But no one bothered Pentfield about it. |
| 10178 |
Besides, Pentfield knew that Corry and his bride must by that time have started in over the trail. They were even then on their honeymoon trip the honeymoon trip he had dreamed of for himself through two dreary years. His lip curled with bitterness at the thought; but beyond being kinder to Lashka he gave no sign. |
| 10179 |
Pete's wife, a Stewart River woman, had sent up word that something was wrong with her baby, and Lashka, who was pre eminently a mother woman and who held herself to be truly wise in the matter of infantile troubles, missed no opportunity of nursing the children of other women as yet more fortunate than she. |
| 10180 |
Spring was in the air. The sharpness had gone out of the bite of the frost and though snow still covered the land, the murmur and trickling of water told that the iron grip of winter was relaxing. The bottom was dropping out of the trail, and here and there a new trail had been broken around open holes. |
| 10181 |
A team of tired looking dogs appeared around the narrow bend, followed by a heavily loaded sled. At the gee pole was a man who steered in a manner familiar to Pentfield, and behind the sled walked two women. His glance returned to the man at the gee pole. It was Corry. Pentfield got on his feet and waited. |
| 10182 |
There was a querulous plaint in their voices, an irritability of movement and gesture, that told of broken sleep and a losing struggle with the little winged pests. "Them skeeters'll be the death of me yet," Kink Mitchell whimpered, as the canoe felt the current on her nose, and leaped out from the bank. |
| 10183 |
He merely improved the opportunity by putting a thicker coating of clay on his own neck. They crossed the Yukon to its west bank, shot down stream with easy stroke, and at the end of forty minutes swung in close to the left around the tail of an island. Forty Mile spread itself suddenly before them. |
| 10184 |
Bill and Kink told him how they intended loafing in their cabin and resting up after the hard summer's work. They told him, with a certain insistence, that was half appeal for belief, half challenge for contradiction, how much they were going to enjoy their idleness. But the storekeeper was uninterested. |
| 10185 |
By this time the first boat was abreast of the men on the bank. Its occupants did not cease poling while greetings were exchanged, and, though its progress was slow, a half hour saw it out of sight up river. Still they came from below, boat after boat, in endless procession. The uneasiness of Bill and Kink increased. |
| 10186 |
But it was the old story over again staked to the sky line. For threes days Carmack repeated his advice, and for three days they received it contemptuously. But on the fourth day, there being nowhere else to go, they went up "that pup." They knew that it was practically unstaked, but they had no intention of staking. |
| 10187 |
His arms were long, like prehistoric man's, and his hands were like soup plates, twisted and gnarled, and big knuckled from toil. He was slow of utterance and movement, and his eyes, pale blue as his hair was pale yellow, seemed filled with an immortal dreaming, the stuff of which no man knew, and himself least of all. |
| 10188 |
Ans Handerson was calm under it all. Each insult added to the value of the claim. Such unamiable reluctance to sell advertised but one thing to him, and he was aware of a great relief when Hootchinoo Bill sank snoring to the floor, and he was free to turn his attention to his less intractable partner. |
| 10189 |
Kink Mitchell was persuadable, though a poor mathematician. He wept dolefully, but was willing to sell a half interest for two hundred and fifty dollars or the whole claim for seven hundred and fifty. Ans Handerson and Bidwell laboured to clear away his erroneous ideas concerning fractions, but their labour was vain. |
| 10190 |
When the precious signature was at last appended and the dust paid over, he breathed a great sigh, and sank to sleep under a table, where he dreamed immortally until morning. But the day was chill and grey. He felt bad. His first act, unconscious and automatic, was to feel for his sack. Its lightness startled him. |
| 10191 |
They were not looking for the claim. Nor could they see much through the driving white till they set foot upon the claim itself. And then the air lightened, and they beheld a dump, capped by a windlass that a man was turning. They saw him draw a bucket of gravel from the hole and tilt it on the edge of the dump. |
| 10192 |
The water was muddy, and, with the pan buried in it, they could see nothing of its contents. Suddenly he lifted the pan clear and sent the water out of it with a flirt. A mass of yellow, like butter in a churn, showed across the bottom. Hootchinoo Bill swallowed. Never in his life had he dreamed of so rich a test pan. |
| 10193 |
Wherefore, when the clarion call of the North rang on his ear, he conceived an adventure in eggs and bent all his energy to its achievement. He figured briefly and to the point, and the adventure became iridescent hued, splendid. That eggs would sell at Dawson for five dollars a dozen was a safe working premise. |
| 10194 |
Beats the paltry hundred a month I'm getting now. Why, we'll build further out where we'll have more space, gas in every room, and a view, and the rent of the cottage'll pay taxes, insurance, and water, and leave something over. And then there's always the chance of my striking it and coming out a millionaire. |
| 10195 |
But it did not take him long to recover his land legs and appetite. His first interview with the Chilkoot packers straightened him up and stiffened his backbone. Forty cents a pound they demanded for the twenty eight mile portage, and while he caught his breath and swallowed, the price went up to forty three. |
| 10196 |
But fifty cents a pound is a thousand dollars a ton, and his fifteen hundred pounds had exhausted his emergency fund and left him stranded at the Tantalus point where each day he saw the fresh whipsawed boats departing for Dawson. Further, a great anxiety brooded over the camp where the boats were built. |
| 10197 |
But the iron hand closed down over the land. Men were being frozen in the blizzard which swept Chilkoot, and Rasmunsen frosted his toes ere he was aware. He found a chance to go passenger with his freight in a boat just shoving off through the rubble, but two hundred hard cash, was required, and he had no money. |
| 10198 |
Wherever the spray struck, it turned instantly to frost, and the dipping boom of the spritsail was quickly fringed with icicles. The Alma strained and hammered through the big seas till the seams and butts began to spread, but in lieu of bailing the correspondents chopped ice and flung it overboard. |
| 10199 |
The iron bound shores were in a lather of foam, and even down the middle the only hope was to keep running away from the big seas. To lower sail was to be overtaken and swamped. Time and again they passed boats pounding among the rocks, and once they saw one on the edge of the breakers about to strike. |
| 10200 |
Rasmunsen grinned and tightened his aching grip on the sweep. Scores of times had the send of the sea caught the big square stern of the Alma and thrown her off from dead before it till the after leach of the spritsail fluttered hollowly, and each time, and only with all his strength, had he forced her back. |
| 10201 |
For a time there was silence. As the end of the lake came in sight, the waves began to leap aboard with such steady recurrence that the correspondents no longer chopped ice but flung the water out with buckets. Even this would not do, and, after a shouted conference with Rasmunsen, they attacked the baggage. |
| 10202 |
The after leach hollowed, the sail emptied and jibed, and the boom, sweeping with terrific force across the boat, carried the angry correspondent overboard with a broken back. Mast and sail had gone over the side as well. A drenching sea followed, as the boat lost headway, and Rasmunsen sprang to the bailing bucket. |
| 10203 |
Two men, a government courier and a half breed voyageur, dragged him out of the surf, saved his cargo, and beached the Alma. They were paddling out of the country in a Peterborough, and gave him shelter for the night in their storm bound camp. Next morning they departed, but he elected to stay by his eggs. |
| 10204 |
The Alma was crushed in the jamming of the floes, but the eggs were intact. These he back tripped two miles across the ice to the shore, where he built a cache, which stood for years after and was pointed out by men who knew. Half a thousand frozen miles stretched between him and Dawson, and the waterway was closed. |
| 10205 |
This they conceived to be a hardship, but when they balked and refused to break camp of mornings, he drove them to their work at pistol point. When he slipped through an ice bridge near the White Horse and froze his foot, tender yet and oversensitive from the previous freezing, the Indians looked for him to lie up. |
| 10206 |
But he sacrificed a blanket, and, with his foot incased in an enormous moccasin, big as a water bucket, continued to take his regular turn with the front sled. Here was the cruellest work, and they respected him, though on the side they rapped their foreheads with their knuckles and significantly shook their heads. |
| 10207 |
He fought the men to stay with him, fought the dogs to keep them away from the eggs, fought the ice, the cold, and the pain of his foot, which would not heal. As fast as the young tissue renewed, it was bitten and scared by the frost, so that a running sore developed, into which he could almost shove his fist. |
| 10208 |
He went through as quickly and neatly as a knife through thin cream, and the current swept him from view down under the stream ice. That night his mate fled away through the pale moonlight, Rasmunsen futilely puncturing the silence with his revolver a thing that he handled with more celerity than cleverness. |
| 10209 |
Nor did he appear interested when informed that the police had broken the trail as far as Pelly; for he had attained to a fatalistic acceptance of all natural dispensations, good or ill. But when they told him that Dawson was in the bitter clutch of famine, he smiled, threw the harness on his dogs, and pulled out. |
| 10210 |
They of the smoke wreath had travelled one day in three, resting and reserving their strength for the dash to come when broken trail was met with; while each day he had plunged and floundered forward, breaking the spirit of his dogs and robbing them of their mettle. As for himself, he was unbreakable. |
| 10211 |
Here he was and his thousand dozen; there was Dawson; the problem was unaltered. At the Little Salmon, being short of dog food, the dogs got into his grub, and from there to Selkirk he lived on beans coarse, brown beans, big beans, grossly nutritive, which griped his stomach and doubled him up at two hour intervals. |
| 10212 |
His cheek bones and nose, frost bitten again and again, were turned bloody black and hideous. The thumb, which was separated from the fingers by the gee pole, had likewise been nipped and gave him great pain. The monstrous moccasin still incased his foot, and strange pains were beginning to rack the leg. |
| 10213 |
The dogs were so weak that he was forced to rest them, and, waiting, he leaned limply against the gee pole. A man, an eminently decorous looking man, came sauntering by in a great bearskin coat. He glanced at Rasmunsen curiously, then stopped and ran a speculative eye over the dogs and the three lashed sleds. |
| 10214 |
He was without scales, but the man with the bearskin coat fetched a pair and obligingly weighed in the dust while Rasmunsen passed out the goods. Soon there was a pushing and shoving and shouldering, and a great clamour. Everybody wanted to buy and to be served first. And as the excitement grew, Rasmunsen cooled down. |
| 10215 |
He chopped steadfastly and monotonously till the last case was finished. Somebody knocked at the door, knocked again, and let himself in. "What a mess!" he remarked, as he paused and surveyed the scene. The severed eggs were beginning to thaw in the heat of the stove, and a miserable odour was growing stronger. |
| 10216 |
He threw them all the salmon he had bought, and coiled a sled lashing up in his hand. Then he re entered the cabin and drew the latch in after him. The smoke from the cindered steak made his eyes smart. He stood on the bunk, passed the lashing over the ridge pole, and measured the swing off with his eye. |
| 10217 |
Sunglare on the ice, camp smoke, and weather beat had burned his face to a copper brown, so that her father was as fair as he, while she was fairer. She was remotely glad of this, and more immediately glad that he was large and strong, though his great black beard half frightened her, it was so strange. |
| 10218 |
Had the Factor gone but one step farther, perforce Snettishane would himself have mentioned the name of Lit lit, but the Factor had not gone that one step farther. The chief was non committal concerning Lit lit's suitability, till he drove the white man into taking the next step in order of procedure. |
| 10219 |
In the end, after three hours more of chaffering, they came to an agreement. For Lit lit Snettishane was to receive one hundred blankets, five pounds of tobacco, three guns, and a bottle of rum, goodwill and best offices included, which according to John Fox, was ten blankets and a gun more than she was worth. |
| 10220 |
Wherefore it be plain to thee thy father's very great wisdom and understanding. I have made for thee a great match. Heed my words and walk in the way of my words, go when I say go, come when I bid thee come, and we shall grow fat with the wealth of this big white man who is a fool according to his bigness. |
| 10221 |
Lit lit, tearfully shy and frightened, was bedecked by her bearded husband with a new calico dress, splendidly beaded moccasins, a gorgeous silk handkerchief over her raven hair, a purple scarf about her throat, brass ear rings and finger rings, and a whole pint of pinchbeck jewellery, including a Waterbury watch. |
| 10222 |
Also (it was her first visit to the warehouse, and Sin Rock was the chief distributing point to several chains of lesser posts), she was astounded at the endlessness of the wealth there stored away. This sight and the picture in her mind's eye of the bare lodge of Snettishane, put all doubts at rest. |
| 10223 |
The Factor roused, not with the abrupt start of civilized man, but with the swift and comprehensive glide from sleep to waking of the savage. In the night light he made out a dark object in the midst of the grass and brought his gun to bear upon it. A second croak began to rise, and he pulled the trigger. |
| 10224 |
John Fox ran to the spot and reached for the thing he had killed, but his fingers closed on a coarse mop of hair and he turned Snettishane's face upward to the starlight. He knew how a shotgun scattered at fifty yards, and he knew that he had peppered Snettishane across the shoulders and in the small of the back. |
| 10225 |
And it lifted then, and his eyes glinted viciously, as he reached for Batard and dragged him out from the squirming litter. It was certain that they divined each other, for on the instant Batard had buried his puppy fangs in Leclere's hand, and Leclere, thumb and finger, was coolly choking his young life out of him. |
| 10226 |
Batard did not know his father hence his name but, as John Hamlin knew, his father was a great grey timber wolf. But the mother of Batard, as he dimly remembered her, was snarling, bickering, obscene, husky, full fronted and heavy chested, with a malign eye, a cat like grip on life, and a genius for trickery and evil. |
| 10227 |
And then came Black Leclere, to lay his heavy hand on the bit of pulsating puppy life, to press and prod and mould till it became a big bristling beast, acute in knavery, overspilling with hate, sinister, malignant, diabolical. With a proper master Batard might have made an ordinary, fairly efficient sled dog. |
| 10228 |
The history of Batard and Leclere is a history of war of five cruel, relentless years, of which their first meeting is fit summary. To begin with, it was Leclere's fault, for he hated with understanding and intelligence, while the long legged, ungainly puppy hated only blindly, instinctively, without reason or method. |
| 10229 |
At first there were no refinements of cruelty (these were to come later), but simple beatings and crude brutalities. In one of these Batard had an ear injured. He never regained control of the riven muscles, and ever after the ear drooped limply down to keep keen the memory of his tormentor. And he never forgot. |
| 10230 |
He was always worsted, but he fought back because it was his nature to fight back. And he was unconquerable. Yelping shrilly from the pain of lash and club, he none the less contrived always to throw in the defiant snarl, the bitter vindictive menace of his soul which fetched without fail more blows and beatings. |
| 10231 |
He flourished under misfortune, grew fat with famine, and out of his terrible struggle for life developed a preternatural intelligence. His were the stealth and cunning of the husky, his mother, and the fierceness and valour of the wolf, his father. Possibly it was because of his father that he never wailed. |
| 10232 |
His puppy yelps passed with his lanky legs, so that he became grim and taciturn, quick to strike, slow to warn. He answered curse with snarl, and blow with snap, grinning the while his implacable hatred; but never again, under the extremest agony, did Leclere bring from him the cry of fear nor of pain. |
| 10233 |
Anyway, the problem would be solved. For they had become problems to each other. The very breath each drew was a challenge and a menace to the other. Their hate bound them together as love could never bind. Leclere was bent on the coming of the day when Batard should wilt in spirit and cringe and whimper at his feet. |
| 10234 |
But Leclere understood. He was a man who lived much in the open, beyond the sound of human tongue, and he had learned the voices of wind and storm, the sigh of night, the whisper of dawn, the clash of day. In a dim way he could hear the green things growing, the running of the sap, the bursting of the bud. |
| 10235 |
When in anger, Batard was not nice to look upon, and more than once had he leapt for Leclere's throat, to be stretched quivering and senseless in the snow, by the butt of the ever ready dogwhip. And so Batard learned to bide his time. When he reached his full strength and prime of youth, he thought the time had come. |
| 10236 |
He crept upon him stealthily, head low to earth and lone ear laid back, with a feline softness of tread. Batard breathed gently, very gently, and not till he was close at hand did he raise his head. He paused for a moment and looked at the bronzed bull throat, naked and knotty, and swelling to a deep steady pulse. |
| 10237 |
They rolled over and over on the snow, Leclere striking madly with his fists. Then they separated, face to face, and circled back and forth before each other. Leclere could have drawn his knife. His rifle was at his feet. But the beast in him was up and raging. He would do the thing with his hands and his teeth. |
| 10238 |
This occurred not far from Sunrise, and the missionary, opening the door to Leclere a few hours later, was surprised to note the absence of Batard from the team. Nor did his surprise lessen when Leclere threw back the robes from the sled, gathered Batard into his arms and staggered across the threshold. |
| 10239 |
He learned many tortures, and, notably, the torture of hunger, the torture of thirst, the torture of fire, and, worst of all, the torture of music. Like the rest of his kind, he did not enjoy music. It gave him exquisite anguish, racking him nerve by nerve, and ripping apart every fibre of his being. |
| 10240 |
It was his one weakness in the contest with Leclere, and it was his shame. Leclere, on the other hand, passionately loved music as passionately as he loved strong drink. And when his soul clamoured for expression, it usually uttered itself in one or the other of the two ways, and more usually in both ways. |
| 10241 |
Nor did he show signs of a breaking spirit. Rather did he grow more grim and taciturn, biding his time with an inscrutable patience that began to puzzle and weigh upon Leclere. The dog would lie in the firelight, motionless, for hours, gazing straight before him at Leclere, and hating him with his bitter eyes. |
| 10242 |
Further, it was known that they had quarrelled just previous to pulling out; for the Lizzie, a wheezy ten ton stern wheeler, twenty four hours behind, beat Leclere in by three days. And when he did get in, it was with a clean drilled bullet hole through his shoulder muscle, and a tale of ambush and murder. |
| 10243 |
When the squaws became preoccupied with cooking beans and keeping the fire going for the wifeless miners, and the bucks with swapping their warm furs for black bottles and broken time pieces, he took to his bed, said "Bless me" several times, and departed to his final accounting in a rough hewn, oblong box. |
| 10244 |
The one thing against him was his quick temper and ready fist a little thing, for which his kind heart and forgiving hand more than atoned. On the other hand, there was nothing to atone for Black Leclere. He was "black," as more than one remembered deed bore witness, while he was as well hated as the other was beloved. |
| 10245 |
He potted one, who went over the side after the manner of Timothy Brown. The other dropped into the bottom of the canoe, and then canoe and poling boat went down the stream in a drifting battle. After that they hung up on a split current, and the canoe passed on one side of an island, the poling boat on the other. |
| 10246 |
Even Batard, lying full stretched on the ground with his fore paws rubbed the pests away from eyes and mouth. But while Slackwater waited for Batard to lift his head, a faint call came from the quiet air, and a man was seen waving his arms and running across the flat from Sunrise. It was the storekeeper. |
| 10247 |
The least relaxation of the leg muscles pressed the rough fibred noose into his neck, while the upright position caused him much pain in his wounded shoulder. He projected his under lip and expelled his breath upwards along his face to blow the mosquitoes away from his eyes. But the situation had its compensation. |
| 10248 |
To be snatched from the maw of death was well worth a little bodily suffering, only it was unfortunate that he should miss the hanging of the Beaver. And so he mused, till his eyes chanced to fall upon Batard, head between fore paws and stretched on the ground asleep. And their Leclere ceased to muse. |
| 10249 |
He would have given his Sunrise claim to be assured that the dog was not awake, and once, when one of his joints cracked, he looked quickly and guiltily at Batard to see if he roused. He did not rouse then but a few minutes later he got up slowly and lazily, stretched, and looked carefully about him. |
| 10250 |
Assured that no one was in sight or hearing, Batard sat down, curled his upper lip almost into a smile, looked up at Leclere, and licked his chops. "Ah see my feenish," the man said, and laughed sardonically aloud. Batard came nearer, the useless ear wabbling, the good ear cocked forward with devilish comprehension. |
| 10251 |
Batard retreated, for twenty feet or so, with a fiendish levity in his bearing that Leclere could not mistake. He remembered the dog often breaking the scum of ice on the water hole by lifting up and throwing his weight upon it; and remembering, he understood what he now had in mind. Batard faced about and paused. |
| 10252 |
Fifteen minutes later, Slackwater Charley and Webster Shaw returning, caught a glimpse of a ghostly pendulum swinging back and forth in the dim light. As they hurriedly drew in closer, they made out the man's inert body, and a live thing that clung to it, and shook and worried, and gave to it the swaying motion. |
| 10253 |
Thus it was when Abel brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. The firstlings and the fat thereof were to him the dearest things in the world; yet he gave them over that he might be on good terms with God. So it was with Abraham when he prepared to offer up his son Isaac on a stone. |
| 10254 |
But whether that be true or not it has since been determined by a few billion people that he loved the Lord and desired to serve him. And since it has been determined that love is service, and since to renounce is to serve, then Jees Uck, who was merely a woman of a swart skinned breed, loved with a great love. |
| 10255 |
Jees Uck had learned only one way of renouncing, and that was with a club as the dynamic factor, in much the same manner as a dog is made to renounce a stolen marrow bone. Yet, when the time came, she proved herself capable of rising to the height of the fair faced royal races and of renouncing in right regal fashion. |
| 10256 |
Beyond a quickened lilt to the imagination, the contribution of the Celt was in no wise apparent. It might possibly have put the warm blood under her skin, which made her face less swart and her body fairer; but that, in turn, might have come from Shpack, the Big Fat, who inherited the colour of his Slavonic father. |
| 10257 |
Then he hied himself away to a crony of kindred pursuits, with whom he was wont to confer over coupons and roses, and between the two the destiny of young Neil Bonner was made manifest. He must go away, on probation, to live down his harmless follies in order that he might live up to their own excellent standard. |
| 10258 |
Young Neil set his jaw, pitched his chin at the proper angle, and went to work. As an underling he did his work well and gained the commendation of his superiors. Not that he delighted in the work, but that it was the one thing that prevented him from going mad. The first year he wished he was dead. |
| 10259 |
The second year he cursed God. The third year he was divided between the two emotions, and in the confusion quarrelled with a man in authority. He had the best of the quarrel, though the man in authority had the last word, a word that sent Neil Bonner into an exile that made his old billet appear as paradise. |
| 10260 |
Twenty Mile, which is very like the rest of the posts, is a log building the size of a corner grocery with rooms to let up stairs. A long legged cache on stilts may be found in the back yard; also a couple of outhouses. The back yard is unfenced, and extends to the sky line and an unascertainable bit beyond. |
| 10261 |
It was very lonely at Twenty Mile. The bleak vastness stretched away on every side to the horizon. The snow, which was really frost, flung its mantle over the land and buried everything in the silence of death. For days it was clear and cold, the thermometer steadily recording forty to fifty degrees below zero. |
| 10262 |
That was all. Nothing happened. No storms, no churning waters and threshing forests, nothing but the machine like precipitation of accumulated moisture. Possibly the most notable thing that occurred through the weary weeks was the gliding of the temperature up to the unprecedented height of fifteen below. |
| 10263 |
The very follies for which he was doing penance had been bred of his excessive sociability. And here, in the fourth year of his exile, he found himself in company which were to travesty the word with a morose and speechless creature in whose sombre eyes smouldered a hatred as bitter as it was unwarranted. |
| 10264 |
When she first came into the store, he looked at her long, as a thirsty man may look at a flowing well. And she, with the heritage bequeathed her by Spike O'Brien, imagined daringly and smiled up into his eyes, not as the swart skinned peoples should smile at the royal races, but as a woman smiles at a man. |
| 10265 |
But more often he did not dare to think, and then all went well and there were smiles and laughter. And Amos Pentley, gasping like a stranded catfish, his hollow cough a reek with the grave, looked upon it all and grinned. He, who loved life, could not live, and it rankled his soul that others should be able to live. |
| 10266 |
Jees Uck, whose mind was simple, who thought elementally and was unused to weighing life in its subtler quantities, read Amos Pentley like a book. She warned Bonner, openly and bluntly, in few words; but the complexities of higher existence confused the situation to him, and he laughed at her evident anxiety. |
| 10267 |
To him, Amos was a poor, miserable devil, tottering desperately into the grave. And Bonner, who had suffered much, found it easy to forgive greatly. But one morning, during a bitter snap, he got up from the breakfast table and went into the store. Jees Uck was already there, rosy from the trail, to buy a sack of flour. |
| 10268 |
A few minutes later, he was out in the snow lashing the flour on her sled. As he bent over he noticed a stiffness in his neck and felt a premonition of impending physical misfortune. And as he put the last half hitch into the lashing and attempted to straighten up, a quick spasm seized him and he sank into the snow. |
| 10269 |
Tense and quivering, head jerked back, limbs extended, back arched and mouth twisted and distorted, he appeared as though being racked limb from limb. Without cry or sound, Jees Uck was in the snow beside him; but he clutched both her wrists spasmodically, and as long as the convulsion endured she was helpless. |
| 10270 |
The blink of light that marked the day disappeared. Amos, followed about by the woman's eyes, lighted the kerosene lamps. Evening came on. Through the north window the heavens were emblazoned with an auroral display, which flamed and flared and died down into blackness. Some time after that, Neil Bonner roused. |
| 10271 |
Then he set to work on the food, attempting a crude analysis. He had not been unused to the laboratory in his college days and was possessed of sufficient imagination to achieve results with his limited materials. The condition of tetanus, which had marked his paroxysms, simplified matters, and he made but one test. |
| 10272 |
To the biscuits he devoted the utmost care. Amos, who knew nothing of chemistry, looked on with steady curiosity. But Jees Uck, who had boundless faith in the white man's wisdom, and especially in Neil Bonner's wisdom, and who not only knew nothing but knew that she knew nothing watched his face rather than his hands. |
| 10273 |
Step by step he eliminated possibilities, until he came to the final test. He was using a thin medicine vial for a tube, and this he held between him and the light, watching the slow precipitation of a salt through the solution contained in the tube. He said nothing, but he saw what he had expected to see. |
| 10274 |
Removing to a distance seemed to bring her closer than ever, and Neil Bonner found himself picturing her, day by day, in camp and on trail. It is not good to be alone. Often he went out of the quiet store, bare headed and frantic, and shook his fist at the blink of day that came over the southern sky line. |
| 10275 |
And as she turned her face toward his with a sudden joyful flash, he bent forward, slowly and gravely, as it were a sacred thing, and kissed her on the lips. The Toyaats had never taught her the meaning of a kiss upon the lips, but she understood and was glad. With the coming of Jees Uck, at once things brightened up. |
| 10276 |
She was regal in her happiness, a source of unending delight. The elemental workings of her mind and her naive little ways made an immense sum of pleasurable surprise to the over civilized man that had stooped to catch her up. Not alone was she solace to his loneliness, but her primitiveness rejuvenated his jaded mind. |
| 10277 |
The land exchanged its austere robes for the garb of a smiling wanton. Everywhere light laughed and life invited. The days stretched out their balmy length and the nights passed from blinks of darkness to no darkness at all. The river bared its bosom, and snorting steamboats challenged the wilderness. |
| 10278 |
Concerning civilization, he had gone away with one set of values, had returned with another set of values. Aided, also, by the earth smells in his nostrils and the earth sights in his eyes, he laid hold of the inner significance of civilization, beholding with clear vision its futilities and powers. |
| 10279 |
Clean living was the way to grace. Duty performed was sanctification. One must live clean and do his duty in order that he might work. Work was salvation. And to work toward life abundant, and more abundant, was to be in line with the scheme of things and the will of God. Primarily, he was of the city. |
| 10280 |
And then he met Kitty Sharon a woman of his own flesh and blood and kind; a woman who put her hand into his hand and drew him to her, till he forgot the day and hour and the time of the year the first snow flies on the Yukon. Jees Uck moved into her grand log house and dreamed away three golden summer months. |
| 10281 |
In March, and all alone, she gave birth to a man child, a brave bit of new life at which she marvelled. And at that hour, a year later, Neil Bonner sat by another bed, marvelling at another bit of new life that had fared into the world. The snow went off the ground and the ice broke out of the Yukon. |
| 10282 |
For the first time since her advent into the white man's civilization, a feeling of awe laid hold of her. Neil, her Neil, lived in this house, breathed the air of it, and lay down at night and slept! It was beautiful, all this that she saw, and it pleased her; but she felt, also, the wisdom and mastery behind. |
| 10283 |
John Thompson had not lied that bleak February day, when she laughed pridefully and shut the door in his face. As once she had thrown Amos Pentley across her knee and ripped her knife into the air, so now she felt impelled to spring upon this woman and bear her back and down, and tear the life out of her fair body. |
| 10284 |
And in such fashion and such terms the problem presented itself. She was beaten. There was a woman other than herself better fitted to bear and upbring Neil Bonner's children. Just as his people exceeded her people, so did his womankind exceed her. They were the man compellers, as their men were the world compellers. |
| 10285 |
Knew him! Jees Uck could not forbear a glance at the boy she had borne him, and his eyes followed hers mechanically to the window where played the two children. An iron hand seemed to tighten across his forehead. His knees went weak and his heart leaped up and pounded like a fist against his breast. |
| 10286 |
And in the end there returned to Alaska one Father Neil, a man mighty for good in the land, who loved his mother and who ultimately went into a wider field and rose to high authority in the order. Jees Uck was a young woman when she went back into the North, and men still looked upon her and yearned. |
| 10287 |
She stayed for a while with the good sisters at Holy Cross, where she learned to read and write and became versed in practical medicine and surgery. After that she returned to her grand log house and gathered about her the young girls of the Toyaat village, to show them the way of their feet in the world. |
| 10288 |
It was a man's face she saw, a face of steel, tense and immobile; a mouth of steel, the lips like the jaws of a trap; eyes of steel, dilated, intent, and the light in them and the glitter were the light and glitter of steel. The face of a man, and she had known only his boy face. This face she did not know at all. |
| 10289 |
He was beginning to see, though vaguely, the sharp conflict between woman and career, between a man's work in the world and woman's need of the man. But he was not capable of generalization. He saw only the antagonism between the concrete, flesh and blood Genevieve and the great, abstract, living Game. |
| 10290 |
His words had drawn Genevieve's gaze to his face, and she had pleasured in the clear skin, the clear eyes, the cheek soft and smooth as a girl's. She saw the force of his argument and disliked it accordingly. She revolted instinctively against this Game which drew him away from her, robbed her of part of him. |
| 10291 |
Nor could she understand its seductions. Had it been a woman rival, another girl, knowledge and light and sight would have been hers. As it was, she grappled in the dark with an intangible adversary about which she knew nothing. What truth she felt in his speech made the Game but the more formidable. |
| 10292 |
She wanted him, all of him, her woman's need would not be satisfied with less; and he eluded her, slipped away here and there from the embrace with which she tried to clasp him. Tears swam into her eyes, and her lips trembled, turning defeat into victory, routing the all potent Game with the strength of her weakness. |
| 10293 |
His hand went out impulsively to hers, but she avoided the clasp by a sort of bodily stiffening and chill, the while the eyes smiled still more gloriously. "Here comes Mr. Clausen," she said, at the same time, by some transforming alchemy of woman, presenting to the newcomer eyes that showed no hint of moistness. |
| 10294 |
If ever a girl of the working class had led the sheltered life, it was Genevieve. In the midst of roughness and brutality, she had shunned all that was rough and brutal. She saw but what she chose to see, and she chose always to see the best, avoiding coarseness and uncouthness without effort, as a matter of instinct. |
| 10295 |
Nor did she choose to walk with the young fellows of the neighbourhood, as was the custom of girls from their fifteenth year. "That stuck up doll face," was the way the girls of the neighbourhood described her; and though she earned their enmity by her beauty and aloofness, she none the less commanded their respect. |
| 10296 |
As for Joe, he had never seen anything like this girl across the counter. While he was wiser in natural philosophy than she, and could have given immediately the reason for woman's existence on the earth, nevertheless woman had no part in his cosmos. His imagination was as untouched by woman as the girl's was by man. |
| 10297 |
But his imagination was touched now, and the woman was Genevieve. He had never dreamed a girl could be so beautiful, and he could not keep his eyes from her face. Yet every time he looked at her, and her eyes met his, he felt painful embarrassment, and would have looked away had not her eyes dropped so quickly. |
| 10298 |
Genevieve dreamed through the afternoon and knew that she was in love. Not so with Joe. He knew only that he wanted to look at her again, to see her face. His thoughts did not get beyond this, and besides, it was scarcely a thought, being more a dim and inarticulate desire. The urge of this desire he could not escape. |
| 10299 |
He tried to come in carelessly and casually, but his whole carriage advertised the strong effort of will that compelled his legs to carry his reluctant body thither. Also, he was shy, and awkwarder than ever. Genevieve, on the contrary, was serener than ever, though fluttering most alarmingly within. |
| 10300 |
He wanted to see her, to look at her, and well could he do all this if she but walked out with him. Then that was why the young fellows and girls walked out together, he mused, as the week end drew near. He had remotely considered this walking out to be a mere form or observance preliminary to matrimony. |
| 10301 |
He carried her parcels for her, and once, when rain threatened, her umbrella. He had never heard of the custom of sending flowers to one's lady love, so he sent Genevieve fruit instead. There was utility in fruit. It was good to eat. Flowers never entered his mind, until, one day, he noticed a pale rose in her hair. |
| 10302 |
It drew his gaze again and again. It was her hair, therefore the presence of the flower interested him. Again, it interested him because she had chosen to put it there. For these reasons he was led to observe the rose more closely. He discovered that the effect in itself was beautiful, and it fascinated him. |
| 10303 |
She often beguiled her waking dreams of him with fancied situations, wherein, dying for him, she at last adequately expressed the love she felt for him, and which, living, she knew she could never fully express. Their love was all fire and dew. The physical scarcely entered into it, for such seemed profanation. |
| 10304 |
It was unwomanly. Besides, if she had done it, what would he have thought of it? And while she contemplated so horrible a catastrophe, she seemed to shrivel and wilt in a furnace of secret shame. Nor did Joe escape the prick of curious desires, chiefest among which, perhaps, was the desire to hurt Genevieve. |
| 10305 |
In such case he played the Game, and the goal of the Game was to down an antagonist and keep that antagonist down for a space of ten seconds. So he never struck merely to hurt; the hurt was incidental to the end, and the end was quite another matter. And yet here, with this girl he loved, came the desire to hurt. |
| 10306 |
In the hurt itself, which was the essence of the vigorous embrace, she had found delight; and again she knew sin, though she knew not its nature nor why it should be sin. Came the day, very early in their walking out, when Silverstein chanced upon Joe in his store and stared at him with saucer eyes. |
| 10307 |
He was twenty, she was eighteen, boy and girl, the pair of them, and made for progeny, healthy and normal, with steady blood pounding through their bodies; and wherever they went together, even on Sunday outings across the bay amongst people who did not know him, eyes were continually drawn to them. |
| 10308 |
Of such glances and dim maternal promptings he was quite unconscious, though Genevieve was quick to see and understand; and she knew each time the pang of a fierce joy in that he was hers and that she held him in the hollow of her hand. He did see, however, and rather resented, the men's glances drawn by her. |
| 10309 |
When he buttoned the collar in front, its points served to cover the cheeks, chin and mouth were buried in its depths, and a close scrutiny revealed only shadowy eyes and a little less shadowy nose. She walked across the room, the bottom of the trousers just showing as the bang of the coat was disturbed by movement. |
| 10310 |
Several had their coats off and their shirt sleeves rolled up. They entered the hall from the rear, still keeping the casual formation of the group, and moved slowly up a side aisle. It was a crowded, ill lighted hall, barn like in its proportions, and the smoke laden air gave a peculiar distortion to everything. |
| 10311 |
Beyond the ring, and on either side, as in a fog, she could see the crowded house. The dressing room she had left abutted upon one corner of the ring. Squeezing her way after her guide through the seated men, she crossed the end of the hall and entered a similar dressing room at the other corner of the ring. |
| 10312 |
She could see the whole of it, though part of the audience was shut off. The ring was well lighted by an overhead cluster of patent gas burners. The front row of the men she had squeezed past, because of their paper and pencils, she decided to be reporters from the local papers up town. One of them was chewing gum. |
| 10313 |
Behind them, on the other two rows of seats, she could make out firemen from the near by engine house and several policemen in uniform. In the middle of the front row, flanked by the reporters, sat the young chief of police. She was startled by catching sight of Mr. Clausen on the opposite side of the ring. |
| 10314 |
Several seats farther on, in the same front row, she discovered Silverstein, his weazen features glowing with anticipation. A few cheers heralded the advent of several young fellows, in shirt sleeves, carrying buckets, bottles, and towels, who crawled through the ropes and crossed to the diagonal corner from her. |
| 10315 |
Louder cheers drew her attention to it, and she saw Joe seated on a stool still clad in the bath robe, his short chestnut curls within a yard of her eyes. A young man, in a black suit, with a mop of hair and a preposterously tall starched collar, walked to the centre of the ring and held up his hand. |
| 10316 |
She sat alone, with none to see, but her face was burning with shame at sight of the beautiful nakedness of her lover. But she looked again, guiltily, for the joy that was hers in beholding what she knew must be sinful to behold. The leap of something within her and the stir of her being toward him must be sinful. |
| 10317 |
But of this she knew nothing. She knew only that it was sin, and she lifted her head proudly, recklessly resolved, in one great surge of revolt, to sin to the uttermost. She had never dreamed of the form under the clothes. The form, beyond the hands and the face, had no part in her mental processes. |
| 10318 |
To her he looked like a something of Dresden china, to be handled gently and with care, liable to be shattered to fragments by the first rough touch. John Ponta, stripped of his white sweater by the pulling and hauling of two of his seconds, came to the centre of the ring. She knew terror as she looked at him. |
| 10319 |
He was too decided an atavism to draw the crowd's admiration. Instinctively the crowd disliked him. He was an animal, lacking in intelligence and spirit, a menace and a thing of fear, as the tiger and the snake are menaces and things of fear, better behind the bars of a cage than running free in the open. |
| 10320 |
And he felt that the crowd had no relish for him. He was like an animal in the circle of its enemies, and he turned and glared at them with malignant eyes. Little Silverstein, shouting out Joe's name with high glee, shrank away from Ponta's gaze, shrivelled as in fierce heat, the sound gurgling and dying in his throat. |
| 10321 |
The next moment they were past, pausing to centre long on Joe. It seemed to her that Ponta was working himself into a rage. Joe returned the gaze with mild boy's eyes, but his face grew serious. The announcer escorted a third man to the centre of the ring, a genial faced young fellow in shirt sleeves. |
| 10322 |
The referee called them to the centre of the ring. The seconds followed, and they made quite a group, Joe and Ponta facing each other, the referee in the middle, the seconds leaning with hands on one another's shoulders, their heads craned forward. The referee was talking, and all listened attentively. |
| 10323 |
The fight was on. Genevieve clutched one hand to her breast and watched. She was bewildered by the swiftness and savagery of Ponta's assault, and by the multitude of blows he struck. She felt that Joe was surely being destroyed. At times she could not see his face, so obscured was it by the flying gloves. |
| 10324 |
But she could hear the resounding blows, and with the sound of each blow she felt a sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach. She did not know that what she heard was the impact of glove on glove, or glove on shoulder, and that no damage was being done. She was suddenly aware that a change had come over the fight. |
| 10325 |
Hardly had all this been accomplished (it had taken no more than several seconds), when the gong sounded, the seconds scuttled through the ropes with their paraphernalia, and Joe and Ponta were advancing against each other to the centre of the ring. Genevieve had no idea that a minute could be so short. |
| 10326 |
Ponta was after him with the spring of a tiger. In the involuntary effort to maintain equilibrium, Joe had uncovered himself, flinging one arm out and lifting his head from beneath the sheltering shoulders. So swiftly had Ponta followed him, that a terrible swinging blow was coming at his unguarded jaw. |
| 10327 |
Ponta's fist grazed the backward slope of the shoulder, and glanced off into the air. Ponta's right drove straight out, and the graze was repeated as Joe ducked into the safety of a clinch. Genevieve sighed with relief, her tense body relaxing and a faintness coming over her. The crowd was cheering madly. |
| 10328 |
Rarely did he strike blows himself, for Ponta had a quick eye and could defend as well as attack, while Joe had no chance against the other's enormous vitality. His hope lay in that Ponta himself should ultimately consume his strength. But Genevieve was beginning to wonder why her lover did not fight. |
| 10329 |
She saw Ponta's head go back with a jerk and the quick dye of blood upon his lips. The blow, and the great shout from the audience, angered him. He rushed like a wild man. The fury of his previous assaults was as nothing compared with the fury of this one. And there was no more opportunity for another blow. |
| 10330 |
But Joe blocked the two, ducked a third, stepped to the side to avoid a fourth, and was then driven backward into a corner by a hurricane of blows. He was exceedingly weak. He tottered as he kept his footing, and staggered back and forth. His back was against the ropes. There was no further retreat. |
| 10331 |
But Joe ducked into a clinch and was for a moment saved. Ponta struggled frantically to free himself. He wanted to give the finish to this foe already so far gone. But Joe was holding on for life, resisting the other's every effort, as fast as one hold or grip was torn loose finding a new one by which to cling. |
| 10332 |
The referee clutched each by the shoulder and sundered them violently, passing quickly between them as he thrust them backward in order to make a clean break of it. The moment he was free, Ponta sprang at Joe like a wild animal bearing down its prey. But Joe covered up, blocked, and fell into a clinch. |
| 10333 |
Perspiration ran down his face. It took all his strength to split those clinging bodies, and no sooner had he split them than Joe fell unharmed into another embrace and the work had to be done all over again. In vain, when freed, did Ponta try to avoid the clutching arms and twining body. He could not keep away. |
| 10334 |
Ponta overwhelmed him in the attacks, yet could do nothing with him, while Joe's tiger like strokes, always imminent, compelled respect. They toned Ponta's ferocity. He was no longer able to go in with the complete abandon of destructiveness which had marked his earlier efforts. But a change was coming over the fight. |
| 10335 |
He did it once, in each clinch, but with all his strength, and he did it every clinch. Then, in the breakaways, he began to uppercut Ponta on the stomach, or to hook his jaw or strike straight out upon the mouth. But at first sign of a coming of a whirlwind, Joe would dance nimbly away and cover up. |
| 10336 |
There was no rest for the man. Joe followed him up, step by step, his advancing left foot making an audible tap, tap, tap, on the hard canvas. Then there would come a sudden leap in, tiger like, a blow struck, or blows, and a swift leap back, whereupon the left foot would take up again its tapping advance. |
| 10337 |
Sometimes his face had been quite boyish; other times, when taking his fiercest punishment, it had been bleak and gray; and still later, when living through and clutching and holding on, it had taken on a wistful expression. But now, out of danger himself and as he forced the fight, his fighting face came upon him. |
| 10338 |
The round, the thirteenth, closed with a rush, in Ponta's corner. He attempted a rally, was brought to his knees, took the nine seconds' count, and then tried to clinch into safety, only to receive four of Joe's terrible stomach punches, so that with the gong he fell back, gasping, into the arms of his seconds. |
| 10339 |
He was waiting for the gong. When it sounded he shot forward and across the ring, catching Ponta in the midst of his seconds as he rose from his stool. And in the midst of his seconds he went down, knocked down by a right hand blow. As he arose from the confusion of buckets, stools, and seconds, Joe put him down again. |
| 10340 |
It was the blood cry of the crowd, and it sounded to her like what she imagined must be the howling of wolves. And what with confidence in her lover's victory she found room in her heart to pity Ponta. In vain he struggled to defend himself, to block, to cover up, to duck, to clinch into a moment's safety. |
| 10341 |
He was knocked into the corners and out again, against the ropes, rebounding, and with another blow against the ropes once more. He fanned the air with his arms, showering savage blows upon emptiness. There was nothing human left in him. He was the beast incarnate, roaring and raging and being destroyed. |
| 10342 |
In sore travail, gasping, reeling, panting, with glazing eyes and sobbing breath, grotesque and heroic, fighting to the last, striving to get at his antagonist, he surged and was driven about the ring. And in that moment Joe's foot slipped on the wet canvas. Ponta's swimming eyes saw and knew the chance. |
| 10343 |
All the fleeing strength of his body gathered itself together for the lightning lucky punch. Even as Joe slipped the other smote him, fairly on the point of the chin. He went over backward. Genevieve saw his muscles relax while he was yet in the air, and she heard the thud of his head on the canvas. |
| 10344 |
The referee, stooping over the inert body, was counting the seconds. Ponta tottered and fell to his knees. He struggled to his feet, swaying back and forth as he tried to sweep the audience with his hatred. His legs were trembling and bending under him; he was choking and sobbing, fighting to breathe. |
| 10345 |
Men began climbing into the ring, curious to see, but were roughly shoved out by the policemen, who were already there. Genevieve looked on from her peep hole. She was not greatly perturbed. Her lover had been knocked out. In so far as disappointment was his, she shared it with him; but that was all. |
| 10346 |
They passed his limp body through the ropes to the stage, and it disappeared beyond the limits of her peep hole. Then the door of her dressing room was thrust open and a number of men came in. They were carrying Joe. He was laid down on the dusty floor, his head resting on the knee of one of the seconds. |
| 10347 |
She came over and knelt beside him. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted. His wet hair was plastered in straight locks about his face. She lifted one of his hands. It was very heavy, and the lifelessness of it shocked her. She looked suddenly at the faces of the seconds and of the men about her. |
| 10348 |
They seemed frightened, all save one, and he was cursing, in a low voice, horribly. She looked up and saw Silverstein standing beside her. He, too, seemed frightened. He rested a kindly hand on her shoulder, tightening the fingers with a sympathetic pressure. This sympathy frightened her. She began to feel dazed. |
| 10349 |
There was an eruption of new faces, and she saw Joe carried out on a canvas stretcher. Silverstein was buttoning the long overcoat and drawing the collar about her face. She felt the night air on her cheek, and looking up saw the clear, cold stars. She jammed into a seat. Silverstein was beside her. |
| 10350 |
Joe was there, too, still on his stretcher, with blankets over his naked body; and there was a man in blue uniform who spoke kindly to her, though she did not know what he said. Horses' hoofs were clattering, and she was lurching somewhere through the night. Next, light and voices, and a smell of iodoform. |
| 10351 |
Percival Ford wondered why he had come. He did not dance. He did not care much for army people. Yet he knew them all gliding and revolving there on the broad lanai of the Seaside, the officers in their fresh starched uniforms of white, the civilians in white and black, and the women bare of shoulders and arms. |
| 10352 |
Yes, that was it. There was in them something else, or more, than the assertive grossness of life. He was fastidious; he acknowledged that to himself; and these army women, with their bare shoulders and naked arms, their straight looking eyes, their vitality and challenging femaleness, jarred upon his sensibilities. |
| 10353 |
Nor did he get on better with the army men, who took life lightly, drinking and smoking and swearing their way through life and asserting the essential grossness of flesh no less shamelessly than their women. He was always uncomfortable in the company of the army men. They seemed uncomfortable, too. |
| 10354 |
No blood with a ferment in it could have nourished and shaped that long and narrow face, those thin lips, lean cheeks, and the small, sharp eyes. The thatch of hair, dust coloured, straight and sparse, advertised the niggard soil, as did the nose, thin, delicately modelled, and just hinting the suggestion of a beak. |
| 10355 |
The thought process had been accompanied by no inner vision of that daughter. He did not see a daughter with arms and shoulders. Instead, he smiled at the remote contingency of marriage. He was thirty five, and, having had no personal experience of love, he looked upon it, not as mythical, but as bestial. |
| 10356 |
They invariably married at the first opportunity. It was because they were so low in the scale of life. There was nothing else for them to do. They were like the army men and women. But for him there were other and higher things. He was different from them from all of them. He was proud of how he happened to be. |
| 10357 |
He had come of no petty love match. He had come of lofty conception of duty and of devotion to a cause. His father had not married for love. Love was a madness that had never perturbed Isaac Ford. When he answered the call to go to the heathen with the message of life, he had had no thought and no desire for marriage. |
| 10358 |
The Board brought them together, arranged everything, and by the end of the week they were married and started on the long voyage around the Horn. Percival Ford was proud that he had come of such a union. He had been born high, and he thought of himself as a spiritual aristocrat. And he was proud of his father. |
| 10359 |
When the natives, emerging abruptly from their feudal system, with no conception of the nature and significance of property in land, were letting their broad acres slip through their fingers, it was Isaac Ford who had stepped in between the trading crowd and its prey and taken possession of fat, vast holdings. |
| 10360 |
Nor was it his fault that sugar, after the slump, had paid forty per cent; that the bank he founded had prospered into a railroad; and that, among other things, fifty thousand acres of Oahu pasture land, which he had bought for a dollar an acre, grew eight tons of sugar to the acre every eighteen months. |
| 10361 |
He turned his eyes back to the lanai. What was the difference, he asked himself, between the shameless, grass girdled hula dances and the decollete dances of the women of his own race? Was there an essential difference? or was it a matter of degree? As he pondered the problem a hand rested on his shoulder. |
| 10362 |
Don't forget, you left Joe Garland in the lurch that time. You threw him down, hard; and yet I remember the first day you came to school we boarded, you were only a day scholar you had to be initiated. Three times under in the swimming tank you remember, it was the regular dose every new boy got. And you held back. |
| 10363 |
His is warm. Life is one thing to you, another thing to him. He laughs and sings and dances through life, genial, unselfish, childlike, everybody's friend. You go through life like a perambulating prayer wheel, a friend of nobody but the righteous, and the righteous are those who agree with you as to what is right. |
| 10364 |
I've got him half a dozen jobs, out of every one of which you drove him. But never mind that. Don't forget one thing and a little frankness won't hurt you it is not fair play to saddle another fault on Joe Garland; and you know that you, least of all, are the man to do it. Why, man, it's not good taste. |
| 10365 |
At sleepy intervals the surf flung its foam across the sands to the grass, and far out could be seen the black specks of swimmers under the moon. The voices of the singers, singing a waltz, died away; and in the silence, from somewhere under the trees, arose the laugh of a woman that was a love cry. |
| 10366 |
The hours passed, the army people laughed and danced, the native orchestra played on, and Percival Ford wrestled with the abrupt and overwhelming problem that had been thrust upon him. He prayed quietly, his elbow on the table, his head bowed upon his hand, with all the appearance of any tired onlooker. |
| 10367 |
Between the dances the army men and women and the civilians fluttered up to him and buzzed conventionally, and when they went back to the lanai he took up his wrestling where he had left it off. He began to patch together his shattered ideal of Isaac Ford, and for cement he used a cunning and subtle logic. |
| 10368 |
His lean little ego waxed to colossal proportions. He was great enough to forgive. He glowed at the thought of it. Isaac Ford had been great, but he was greater, for he could forgive Isaac Ford and even restore him to the holy place in his memory, though the place was not quite so holy as it had been. |
| 10369 |
Well might they speak softly, for we were many and strong, and all the islands were ours. As I say, they spoke softly. They were of two kinds. The one kind asked our permission, our gracious permission, to preach to us the word of God. The other kind asked our permission, our gracious permission, to trade with us. |
| 10370 |
That was the beginning. Today all the islands are theirs, all the land, all the cattle everything is theirs. They that preached the word of God and they that preached the word of Rum have fore gathered and become great chiefs. They live like kings in houses of many rooms, with multitudes of servants to care for them. |
| 10371 |
He raised one hand, and with gnarled and twisted fingers lifted up the blazing wreath of hibiscus that crowned his black hair. The moonlight bathed the scene in silver. It was a night of peace, though those who sat about him and listened had all the seeming of battle wrecks. Their faces were leonine. |
| 10372 |
They were men and women beyond the pale, the thirty of them, for upon them had been placed the mark of the beast. They sat, flower garlanded, in the perfumed, luminous night, and their lips made uncouth noises and their throats rasped approval of Koolau's speech. They were creatures who once had been men and women. |
| 10373 |
Their faces were the misfits and slips, crushed and bruised by some mad god at play in the machinery of life. Here and there were features which the mad god had smeared half away, and one woman wept scalding tears from twin pits of horror, where her eyes once had been. Some were in pain and groaned from their chests. |
| 10374 |
On the fourth side the earth fell away into a tremendous abyss, and, far below, could be seen the summits of lesser peaks and crags, at whose bases foamed and rumbled the Pacific surge. In fine weather a boat could land on the rocky beach that marked the entrance of Kalalau Valley, but the weather must be very fine. |
| 10375 |
What did these preachers of the word of God and the word of Rum give us for the land? Have you received one dollar, as much as one dollar, any one of you, for the land? Yet it is theirs, and in return they tell us we can go to work on the land, their land, and that what we produce by our toil shall be theirs. |
| 10376 |
Such had been Kapalei. But now, as Koolau had said, he was a hunted rat, a creature outside the law, sunk so deep in the mire of human horror that he was above the law as well as beneath it. His face was featureless, save for gaping orifices and for the lidless eyes that burned under hairless brows. |
| 10377 |
The woman who wept scalding tears from open eye pits was indeed a woman apulse with life as she plucked the strings of an ukulele and lifted her voice in a barbaric love call such as might have come from the dark forest depths of the primeval world. The air tingled with her cry, softly imperious and seductive. |
| 10378 |
A sea of vegetation laved the landscape, pouring its green billows from wall to wall, dripping from the cliff lips in great vine masses, and flinging a spray of ferns and air plants in to the multitudinous crevices. During the many months of Koolau's rule, he and his followers had fought with this vegetable sea. |
| 10379 |
In little clearings grew the wild arrowroot; on stone terraces, filled with soil scrapings, were the taro patches and the melons; and in every open space where the sunshine penetrated were papaia trees burdened with their golden fruit. Koolau had been driven to this refuge from the lower valley by the beach. |
| 10380 |
It was like walking a tight rope. He had nothing to lean upon but the air. The lava rock crumbled under his feet, and on either side the dislodged fragments pitched downward through the depths. The sun blazed upon him, and his face was wet with sweat. Still he advanced, until the halfway point was reached. |
| 10381 |
The next moment the knife edge was vacant. Then came the rush, five policemen, in single file, with superb steadiness, running along the knife edge. At the same instant the rest of the posse opened fire on the thicket. It was madness. Five times Koolau pulled the trigger, so rapidly that his shots constituted a rattle. |
| 10382 |
On the naked rock there was no hope for them. Before they could clamber down Koolau could have picked off the last man. But he did not fire, and, after a conference, one of them took off a white undershirt and waved it as a flag. Followed by another, he advanced along the knife edge to their wounded comrade. |
| 10383 |
The next instant the atmosphere was incredibly rent asunder. The terrible sound frightened him. It was as if all the gods had caught the envelope of the sky in their hands and were ripping it apart as a woman rips apart a sheet of cotton cloth. But it was such an immense ripping, growing swiftly nearer. |
| 10384 |
The lepers crowded into the open space before the caves. At first they were frightened, but as the shells continued their flight overhead the leper folk became reassured and began to admire the spectacle. The two idiots shrieked with delight, prancing wild antics as each air tormenting shell went by. |
| 10385 |
No damage was being done. Evidently they could not aim such large missiles at such long range with the precision of a rifle. But a change came over the situation. The shells began to fall short. One burst below in the thicket by the knife edge. Koolau remembered the maid who lay there on watch, and ran down to see. |
| 10386 |
He was astounded. The branches were splintered and broken. Where the girl had lain was a hole in the ground. The girl herself was in shattered fragments. The shell had burst right on her. First peering out to make sure no soldiers were attempting the passage, Koolau started back on the run for the caves. |
| 10387 |
Even as he ran, Koolau saw a spout of black smoke rise from the ground, near to the idiots. They were flung apart bodily by the explosion. One lay motionless, but the other was dragging himself by his hands toward the cave. His legs trailed out helplessly behind him, while the blood was pouring from his body. |
| 10388 |
This last shell had fairly entered into one of the caves. The explosion caused the caves to empty. But from the particular cave no one emerged. Koolau crept in through the pungent, acrid smoke. Four bodies, frightfully mangled, lay about. One of them was the sightless woman whose tears till now had never ceased. |
| 10389 |
Koolau was alone in the gorge. He watched the last of his people drag their crippled bodies over the brow of the height and disappear. Then he turned and went down to the thicket where the maid had keen killed. The shell fire still continued, but he remained; for far below he could see the soldiers climbing up. |
| 10390 |
A shower of hau blossoms rained upon him. He lifted his head to peer down the trail, and sighed. He was very much afraid. Bullets from rifles would not have worried him, but this shell fire was abominable. Each time a shell shrieked by he shivered and crouched; but each time he lifted his head again to watch the trail. |
| 10391 |
He felt a fleeting prod of pride. With war guns and rifles, police and soldiers, they came for him, and he was only one man, a crippled wreck of a man at that. They offered a thousand dollars for him, dead or alive. In all his life he had never possessed that much money. The thought was a bitter one. |
| 10392 |
When the soldiers reached the knife edged passage, he was prompted to warn them. But his gaze fell upon the body of the murdered maid, and he kept silent. When six had ventured on the knife edge, he opened fire. Nor did he cease when the knife edge was bare. He emptied his magazine, reloaded, and emptied it again. |
| 10393 |
One bullet ploughed a crease through his scalp, and a second burned across his shoulder blade without breaking the skin. It was a massacre, in which one man did the killing. The soldiers began to retreat, helping along their wounded. As Koolau picked them off he became aware of the smell of burnt meat. |
| 10394 |
He glanced about him at first, and then discovered that it was his own hands. The heat of the rifle was doing it. The leprosy had destroyed most of the nerves in his hands. Though his flesh burned and he smelled it, there was no sensation. He lay in the thicket, smiling, until he remembered the war guns. |
| 10395 |
Without doubt they would open upon him again, and this time upon the very thicket from which he had inflicted the danger. Scarcely had he changed his position to a nook behind a small shoulder of the wall where he had noted that no shells fell, than the bombardment recommenced. He counted the shells. |
| 10396 |
So the soldiers thought, for, under the burning afternoon sun, they climbed the goat trail again. And again the knife edged passage was disputed, and again they fell back to the beach. For two days longer Koolau held the passage, though the soldiers contented themselves with flinging shells into his retreat. |
| 10397 |
Koolau found his people disheartened. The majority of them were too helpless to forage food for themselves under such forbidding circumstances, and all were starving. He selected two women and a man who were not too far gone with the disease, and sent them back to the gorge to bring up food and mats. |
| 10398 |
But those he had dispatched for food did not return, and he started back for the gorge. As he came out on the brow of the wall, half a dozen rifles cracked. A bullet tore through the fleshy part of his shoulder, and his cheek was cut by a sliver of rock where a second bullet smashed against the cliff. |
| 10399 |
His own people had betrayed him. The shell fire had been too terrible, and they had preferred the prison of Molokai. Koolau dropped back and unslung one of his heavy cartridge belts. Lying among the rocks, he allowed the head and shoulders of the first soldier to rise clearly into view before pulling trigger. |
| 10400 |
He was convinced of the hopelessness of his struggle. There was no gainsaying that terrible will of the haoles. Though he killed a thousand, yet would they rise like the sands of the sea and come upon him, ever more and more. They never knew when they were beaten. That was their fault and their virtue. |
| 10401 |
For six weeks they hunted him from pocket to pocket, over the volcanic peaks and along the goat trails. When he hid in the lantana jungle, they formed lines of beaters, and through lantana jungle and guava scrub they drove him like a rabbit. But ever he turned and doubled and eluded. There was no cornering him. |
| 10402 |
There were times when they did the shooting as his brown body showed for a moment through the underbrush. Once, five of them caught him on an exposed goat trail between pockets. They emptied their rifles at him as he limped and climbed along his dizzy way. Afterwards they found bloodstains and knew that he was wounded. |
| 10403 |
The soldiers and police returned to Honolulu, and Kalalau Valley was left to him for his own, though head hunters ventured after him from time to time and to their own undoing. Two years later, and for the last time, Koolau crawled into a thicket and lay down among the ti leaves and wild ginger blossoms. |
| 10404 |
Free he had lived, and free he was dying. A slight drizzle of rain began to fall, and he drew a ragged blanket about the distorted wreck of his limbs. His body was covered with an oilskin coat. Across his chest he laid his Mauser rifle, lingering affectionately for a moment to wipe the dampness from the barrel. |
| 10405 |
As life faded and the drip of the rain grew dim in his ears it seemed to him that he was once more in the thick of the horse breaking, with raw colts rearing and bucking under him, his stirrups tied together beneath, or charging madly about the breaking corral and driving the helping cowboys over the rails. |
| 10406 |
Then he remembered, and once again, and for a moment, he was Koolau, the leper. His eyelids fluttered wearily down and the drip of the rain ceased in his ears. A prolonged trembling set up in his body. This, too, ceased. He half lifted his head, but it fell back. Then his eyes opened, and did not close. |
| 10407 |
He was a sugar king, a coffee planter, a rubber pioneer, a cattle rancher, and a promoter of three out of every four new enterprises launched in the islands. He was a society man, a club man, a yachtsman, a bachelor, and withal as handsome a man as was ever doted upon by mammas with marriageable daughters. |
| 10408 |
He had grit, and had fought two duels both, political when he was no more than a raw youth essaying his first adventures in politics. In fact, he played a most creditable and courageous part in the last revolution, when the native dynasty was overthrown; and he could not have been over sixteen at the time. |
| 10409 |
With the other hand the right he reached into her hair, caught the repulsive abomination as near as he was able by the nape of the neck, and held it tightly between thumb and forefinger as he withdrew it from her hair. It was as horrible and heroic a sight as man could wish to see. It made my flesh crawl. |
| 10410 |
Doctor Hervey he's our expert, you know was the first man to apply it here. He is a wizard. He knows more about leprosy than any living man, and if a cure is ever discovered, he'll be that discoverer. As for the test, it is very simple. They have succeeded in isolating the bacillus leprae and studying it. |
| 10411 |
The lepers were a woebegone lot. The faces of the majority were hideous too horrible for me to describe. But here and there I noticed fairly good looking persons, with no apparent signs of the fell disease upon them. One, I noticed, a little white girl, not more than twelve, with blue eyes and golden hair. |
| 10412 |
We've kept it out of the papers, though. Nobody but us and her family knows what has become of her. In fact, if you were to ask any man in Honolulu, he'd tell you it was his impression that she was somewhere in Europe. It was at her request that we've been so quiet about it. Poor girl, she has a lot of pride. |
| 10413 |
I was thoroughly aware that in life we are in the midst of death but to be in the midst of living death, to die and not be dead, to be one of that draft of creatures that once were men, aye, and women, like Lucy Mokunui, the epitome of all Polynesian charms, an artist as well, and well beloved of men. |
| 10414 |
A short distance away, behind a stretched rope guarded by a policeman, were the lepers' relatives and friends. They were not allowed to come near. There were no last embraces, no kisses of farewell. They called back and forth to one another last messages, last words of love, last reiterated instructions. |
| 10415 |
Doctor Georges gave the command, and the unhappy wretches dragged themselves to their feet and under their burdens of luggage began to stagger across the lighter and aboard the steamer. It was the funeral procession. At once the wailing started from those behind the rope. It was blood curdling; it was heart rending. |
| 10416 |
A thousand persons were on her decks; five thousand stood on the wharf. Up and down the long gangway passed native princes and princesses, sugar kings and the high officials of the Territory. Beyond, in long lines, kept in order by the native police, were the carriages and motor cars of the Honolulu aristocracy. |
| 10417 |
Forward, on the lower deck, the rail was lined six deep with khaki clad young boys, whose bronzed faces told of three years' campaigning under the sun. But the farewell was not for them. Nor was it for the white clad captain on the lofty bridge, remote as the stars, gazing down upon the tumult beneath him. |
| 10418 |
Just aft the gangway, on the promenade deck, stood a score of United States Senators with their wives and daughters the Senatorial junketing party that for a month had been dined and wined, surfeited with statistics and dragged up volcanic hill and down lava dale to behold the glories and resources of Hawaii. |
| 10419 |
He thought the flowers an abomination, and as he looked out over the multitude on the wharf it was with a statistical eye that saw none of the beauty, but that peered into the labour power, the factories, the railroads, and the plantations that lay back of the multitude and which the multitude expressed. |
| 10420 |
Had Senator Jeremy had eyes for his daughter, he would have seen that, in place of the young girl of fifteen he had brought to Hawaii a short month before, he was now taking away with him a woman. Hawaii has a ripening climate, and Dorothy Sambrooke had been exposed to it under exceptionally ripening circumstances. |
| 10421 |
Slender, pale, with blue eyes a trifle tired from poring over the pages of books and trying to muddle into an understanding of life such she had been the month before. But now the eyes were warm instead of tired, the cheeks were touched with the sun, and the body gave the first hint and promise of swelling lines. |
| 10422 |
The tropics had entered into her blood, and she was aglow with the warmth and colour and sunshine. And for a month she had been in the company of a man Stephen Knight, athlete, surf board rider, a bronzed god of the sea who bitted the crashing breakers, leaped upon their backs, and rode them in to shore. |
| 10423 |
Dorothy Sambrooke was unaware of the change. Her consciousness was still that of a young girl, and she was surprised and troubled by Steve's conduct in this hour of saying good bye. She had looked upon him as her playfellow, and for the month he had been her playfellow; but now he was not parting like a playfellow. |
| 10424 |
There was something in his eyes that was terrifying. She could not face it, and her own eyes continually drooped before it. Yet there was something alluring about it, as well, and she continually returned to catch a glimpse of that blazing, imperious, yearning something that she had never seen in human eyes before. |
| 10425 |
The transport's huge whistle blew a deafening blast, and the flower crowned multitude surged closer to the side of the dock. Dorothy Sambrooke's fingers were pressed to her ears; and as she made a moue of distaste at the outrage of sound, she noticed again the imperious, yearning blaze in Steve's eyes. |
| 10426 |
Curious and fascinated, she gazed at that strange something in his eyes until he saw that he had been caught. She saw his cheeks flush darkly and heard him utter inarticulately. He was embarrassed, and she was aware of embarrassment herself. Stewards were going about nervously begging shore going persons to be gone. |
| 10427 |
Steve held up his hands and his eyes pleaded. She slipped her own garland over her head, but it had become entangled in the string of Oriental pearls that Mervin, an elderly sugar king, had placed around her neck when he drove her and her father down to the steamer. She fought with the pearls that clung to the flowers. |
| 10428 |
She deliberately snapped the string, and, amid a shower of pearls, the flowers fell to the waiting lover. She gazed at him until the tears blinded her and she buried her face on the shoulder of Jeremy Sambrooke, who forgot his beloved statistics in wonderment at girl babies that insisted on growing up. |
| 10429 |
He was rather undersized, as Chinese go, and the Chinese narrow shoulders and spareness of flesh were his. The average tourist, casually glimpsing him on the streets of Honolulu, would have concluded that he was a good natured little Chinese, probably the proprietor of a prosperous laundry or tailorshop. |
| 10430 |
In so far as good nature and prosperity went, the judgment would be correct, though beneath the mark; for Ah Chun was as good natured as he was prosperous, and of the latter no man knew a tithe the tale. It was well known that he was enormously wealthy, but in his case "enormous" was merely the symbol for the unknown. |
| 10431 |
Ah Chun had shrewd little eyes, black and beady and so very little that they were like gimlet holes. But they were wide apart, and they sheltered under a forehead that was patently the forehead of a thinker. For Ah Chun had his problems, and had had them all his life. Not that he ever worried over them. |
| 10432 |
All things went well with him, whether they were blows from the overseer in the cane field or a slump in the price of sugar when he owned those cane fields himself. Thus, from the steadfast rock of his sure content he mastered problems such as are given to few men to consider, much less to a Chinese peasant. |
| 10433 |
He studied to find out how men came to be owners of sugar mills and plantations. One judgment he achieved early, namely, that men did not become rich from the labour of their own hands. He knew, for he had laboured for a score of years himself. The men who grew rich did so from the labour of the hands of others. |
| 10434 |
He bought land from merchants who needed ready cash, from impecunious natives, from riotous traders' sons, from widows and orphans and the lepers deported to Molokai; and, somehow, as the years went by, the pieces of land he had bought proved to be needed for warehouses, or coffee buildings, or hotels. |
| 10435 |
There were fifteen sons and daughters, mostly daughters. The sons had come first, three of them, and then had followed, in unswerving sequence, a round dozen of girls. The blend of the race was excellent. Not alone fruitful did it prove, for the progeny, without exception, was healthy and without blemish. |
| 10436 |
Ah Chun did not object. The spelling of his name interfered no whit with his comfort nor his philosophic calm. Besides, he was not proud. But when his children arose to the height of a starched shirt, a stiff collar, and a frock coat, they did interfere with his comfort and calm. Ah Chun would have none of it. |
| 10437 |
No one knew as he knew the extent to which he was an alien in his family. His own family did not guess it. He saw that there was no place for him amongst this marvellous seed of his loins, and he looked forward to his declining years and knew that he would grow more and more alien. He did not understand his children. |
| 10438 |
And he saw his youthful self arise in the curling smoke, his youthful self who had toiled eighteen years in his uncle's field for little more. And now he, Ah Chun, the peasant, dowered his daughter with three hundred thousand years of such toil. And she was but one daughter of a dozen. He was not elated at the thought. |
| 10439 |
In the meantime Ah Chun had not been idle. Investment after investment was called in. He sold out his interests in a score of enterprises, and step by step, so as not to cause a slump in the market, he disposed of his large holdings in real estate. Toward the last he did precipitate a slump and sold at sacrifice. |
| 10440 |
Also, to Mamma Achun was given half a million in money well invested. Ah Chun was now ready to crack the nut of the problem. One fine morning when the family was at breakfast he had seen to it that all his sons in law and their wives were present he announced that he was returning to his ancestral soil. |
| 10441 |
There were angry encounters in which harsh words and harsher blows were struck. There were such things as flower pots being thrown to add emphasis to winged words. And suits for libel arose that dragged their way through the courts and kept Honolulu agog with excitement over the revelations of the witnesses. |
| 10442 |
The candles had been put out, and a slim, white clad Japanese slipped like a ghost through the silvery moonlight, presented us with cigars, and faded away into the darkness of the bungalow. I looked through a screen of banana and lehua trees, and down across the guava scrub to the quiet sea a thousand feet beneath. |
| 10443 |
It was too incredibly horrible. Yet there it was, on his brow, on his ears. I had seen it, the slight puff of the earlobes oh, so imperceptibly slight. I watched it for months. Then, next, hoping against hope, the darkening of the skin above both eyebrows oh, so faint, just like the dimmest touch of sunburn. |
| 10444 |
There was nothing left to be desired. For him life had no arrears. He had been paid in full, cash down, and in advance. What more could he possibly desire than that magnificent body, that iron constitution, that immunity from all ordinary ills, and that lowly wholesomeness of soul? Physically he was perfect. |
| 10445 |
As he put it he just had to succeed, to fare well, to prosper. And in that same incident, as in ten thousand others, he found his sanction. The thing was that he did succeed, did prosper. That was why he was afraid of nothing. Nothing could ever happen to him. He knew it, because nothing had ever happened to him. |
| 10446 |
He was of a different race from ordinary, ailing mortals. He was a lordly being, untouched by common ills and misfortunes. Whatever he wanted he got. He won his wife one of the Caruthers, a little beauty from a dozen rivals. And she settled down and made him the finest wife in the world. He wanted a boy. |
| 10447 |
I had reached his side and was trying to get him to come away, but he took no notice of me. He was gazing, fascinated, at Kaluna, who was brushing at his own throat in a flurried, nervous way, as if to brush off the contamination of the fingers that had clutched him. The action was unreasoned, genuine. |
| 10448 |
Her master was a squarehead who would do anything for money, and we made a charter to China worth his while. He sailed from San Francisco, and a few days later we took out Landhouse's sloop for a cruise. She was only a five ton yacht, but we slammed her fifty miles to windward into the north east trade. |
| 10449 |
That squarehead was game. With a couple of revolvers strapped on him he came right along. The three of us crossed the peninsula to Kalaupapa, something like two miles. Just imagine hunting in the dead of night for a man in a settlement of over a thousand lepers. You see, if the alarm was given, it was all off with us. |
| 10450 |
What I wanted was a kokua. A kokua is, literally, a helper, a native who is clean that lives in the settlement and is paid by the Board of Health to nurse the lepers, dress their sores, and such things. We stayed in the house to keep track of the inmates, while the squarehead led one of them off to find a kokua. |
| 10451 |
I found myself tangled up with a big man. I couldn't keep him off me, though twice I smashed him fairly in the face with my fist. He grappled with me, and we went down, rolling and scrambling and struggling for grips. He was getting away with me, when some one came running up with a lantern. Then I saw his face. |
| 10452 |
Leper horses, leper saddles, leper bridles, pitch black darkness, whistling bullets, and a road none of the best. And the squarehead's horse was a mule, and he didn't know how to ride, either. But we made the whaleboat, and as we shoved off through the surf we could hear the horses coming down the hill from Kalaupapa. |
| 10453 |
Later I concluded that this ignorance was peculiar to the country, and felt that those who lived in cities would not be so dense. One day a man from the city came to the ranch. He wore shiny shoes and a cloth coat, and I felt that here was a good chance for me to exchange thoughts with an enlightened mind. |
| 10454 |
This was the only time I worked because I loved it, but the task was too much, and when half way through my Freshman year I had to quit. I worked away ironing shirts and other things in the laundry, and wrote in all my spare time. I tried to keep on at both, but often fell asleep with the pen in my hand. |
| 10455 |
I am a believer in regular work, and never wait for an inspiration. Temperamentally I am not only careless and irregular, but melancholy; still I have fought both down. The discipline I had as a sailor had full effect on me. Perhaps my old sea days are also responsible for the regularity and limitations of my sleep. |
| 10456 |
On the seat, outside, the driver and Wada sat hunched in a temperature perhaps half a degree colder than mine. And there was no tug. Possum, the fox terrier puppy Galbraith had so inconsiderately foisted upon me, whimpered and shivered on my lap inside my greatcoat and under the fur robe. But he would not settle down. |
| 10457 |
Continually he whimpered and clawed and struggled to get out. And, once out and bitten by the cold, with equal insistence he whimpered and clawed to get back. His unceasing plaint and movement was anything but sedative to my jangled nerves. In the first place I was uninterested in the brute. He meant nothing to me. |
| 10458 |
And with the advent of the terrier the trouble had begun. The hotel clerk judged me a criminal before the act I had not even had time to meditate. And then Wada, on his own initiative and out of his own foolish stupidity, had attempted to smuggle the puppy into his room and been caught by a house detective. |
| 10459 |
And as I froze on in the cab on that bleak pier end, I damned myself as well, and the mad freak that had started me voyaging on a sailing ship around the Horn. By ten o'clock a nondescript youth arrived on foot, carrying a suit case, which was turned over to me a few minutes later by the wharfinger. |
| 10460 |
By the time the wind caused by our speed had chilled me bitterly, I noticed Miss West coming along the narrow deck, and could not avoid being struck by the spring and vitality of her walk. Her face, despite its firm moulding, had a suggestion of fragility that was belied by the robustness of her body. |
| 10461 |
I knew too little about ships to be capable of admiring her lines, and, besides, I was in no mood for admiration. I was still debating with myself whether or not to chuck the whole thing and return on the tug. From all of which it must not be taken that I am a vacillating type of man. On the contrary. |
| 10462 |
Mr. Pike had been drinking. That was patent. His face was puffed and discoloured, and his large gray eyes were bitter and bloodshot. I lingered, with a sinking heart watching my belongings come aboard and chiding my weakness of will which prevented me from uttering the few words that would put a stop to it. |
| 10463 |
As for the half dozen men who were now carrying the luggage aft into the cabin, they were unlike any concept I had ever entertained of sailors. Certainly, on the liners, I had observed nothing that resembled them. One, a most vivid faced youth of eighteen, smiled at me from a pair of remarkable Italian eyes. |
| 10464 |
He had come off a training ship, the mate told me, and this was his first voyage to sea. His face was keen cut, alert, as were his bodily movements, and he wore sailor appearing clothes with sailor seeming grace. In fact, as I was to learn, he was to be the only sailor seeming creature fore and aft. |
| 10465 |
What I sensed behind in those eyes chilled me with its repulsiveness and strangeness. As I faced Mr. Mellaire, and talked with him, and smiled, and exchanged amenities, I was aware of the feeling that comes to one in the forest or jungle when he knows unseen wild eyes of hunting animals are spying upon him. |
| 10466 |
I noted wash tubs, bolts of canvas, many lockers, hams and bacon hanging, a step ladder that led up through a small hatch to the poop, and, in the floor, another hatch. I spoke to the steward, an old Chinese, smooth faced and brisk of movement, whose name I never learned, but whose age on the articles was fifty six. |
| 10467 |
The actual coming on board from the tug I had missed, but for'ard of the amidship house I encountered a few laggards who had not yet gone into the forecastle. These were the worse for liquor, and a more wretched, miserable, disgusting group of men I had never seen in any slum. Their clothes were rags. |
| 10468 |
I, too, by this time, was standing on the big hawser bitts in a position to see a man in the water who seemed deliberately swimming away from the ship. He was a dark skinned Mediterranean of some sort, and his face, in a clear glimpse I caught of it, was distorted by frenzy. His black eyes were maniacal. |
| 10469 |
The line was so accurately flung by the second mate that it fell across the man's shoulders, and for several strokes his arms tangled in it ere he could swim clear. This accomplished, he proceeded to scream some wild harangue and once, as he uptossed his arms for emphasis, I saw in his hand the blade of a long knife. |
| 10470 |
He had walked to the port side of the poop, where, hands in pockets, he was glancing, now for'ard at the struggling man, now aft at the tug. He gave no orders, betrayed no excitement, and appeared, I may well say, the most casual of spectators. The creature in the water seemed now engaged in taking off his clothes. |
| 10471 |
I strolled for'ard, and arrived in time to see him hoisted in over the rail of the Elsinore. He was stark naked, covered with blood, and raving. He had cut and slashed himself in a score of places. From one wound in the wrist the blood spurted with each beat of the pulse. He was a loathsome, non human thing. |
| 10472 |
More than the mates and the maniac, more than the drunken callousness of the men, did this quiet figure, hands in pockets, impress upon me that I was in a different world from any I had known. Wada broke in upon my thoughts by telling me he had been sent to say that Miss West was serving tea in the cabin. |
| 10473 |
With the bawling of the men's voices still in my ears, and with the pictures of their drink puffed and filthy faces still vivid under my eyelids, I found myself greeted by a delicate faced, prettily gowned woman who sat beside a lacquered oriental table on which rested an exquisite tea service of Canton china. |
| 10474 |
And they always come aboard filled with whiskey and raving. I remember, once, when we sailed from Seattle, a long time ago, one such madman. He showed no signs of madness at all; just calmly seized two boarding house runners and sprang overboard with them. We sailed the same day, before the bodies were recovered. |
| 10475 |
He was toothless and sad and weary of movement. His eyes were slate coloured and muddy, his shaven face was sickly yellow. Narrow shouldered, sunken chested, with cheeks cavernously hollow, he looked like a man in the last stages of consumption. Little life as Sundry Buyers showed, Nancy showed even less life. |
| 10476 |
He was a twisted oaf of a man. Face and body were twisted as with the pain of a thousand years of torture. His was the face of an ill treated and feeble minded faun. His large black eyes were bright, eager, and filled with pain; and they flashed questioningly from face to face and to everything about. |
| 10477 |
I noticed the steward, standing at the galley door and watching the men from a distance. His keen, Asiatic face, quick with intelligence, was a relief to the eye, as was the vivid face of Shorty, who came out of the forecastle with a leap and a gurgle of laughter. But there was something wrong with him, too. |
| 10478 |
And still they came: one, pallid, furtive eyed, that I instantly adjudged a drug fiend; another, a tiny, wizened old man, pinch faced and wrinkled, with beady, malevolent blue eyes; a third, a small, well fleshed man, who seemed to my eye the most normal and least unintelligent specimen that had yet appeared. |
| 10479 |
And though I felt there was something queer about them, I could not divine what it was. Here were no ill fed, whiskey poisoned men, such as the rest of the sailors, who, having drunk up their last pay days, had starved ashore until they had received and drunk up their advance money for the present voyage. |
| 10480 |
These three, on the other hand were supple and vigorous. Their movements were spontaneously quick and accurate. Perhaps it was the way they looked at me, with incurious yet calculating eyes that nothing escaped. They seemed so worldly wise, so indifferent, so sure of themselves. I was confident they were not sailors. |
| 10481 |
The three had immediately stopped, and, though they did not look directly at one another, they seemed to be holding a silent conference. Another of the trio, in whose veins ran God alone knows what Semitic, Babylonish and Latin strains, gave a warning signal. Oh, nothing so crass as a wink or a nod. |
| 10482 |
That Larry had not obeyed orders was patent, for he was sitting with his back propped against his sea bag, which ought to have been in the forecastle. Also, he and the group with him ought to have been for'ard manning the windlass. The mate stepped upon the hatch and towered over the man. "Get up," he ordered. |
| 10483 |
The poop, which was really the roof or deck over all the cabin space below, and which occupied the whole after part of the ship, was very large. It was broken only by the half round and half covered wheel house at the very stern and by the chart house. On either side of the latter two doors opened into a tiny hallway. |
| 10484 |
This, in turn, gave access to the chart room and to a stairway that led down into the cabin quarters beneath. I peeped into the chart room and was greeted with a smile by Captain West. He was lolling back comfortably in a swing chair, his feet cocked on the desk opposite. On a broad, upholstered couch sat the pilot. |
| 10485 |
Everything was in order and place, from my shaving outfit in the drawer beside the wash basin, and my sea boots and oilskins hung ready to hand, to my writing materials on the desk, before which a swing arm chair, leather upholstered and screwed solidly to the floor, invited me. My pyjamas and dressing gown were out. |
| 10486 |
Despite his violent past, killer and driver that he was, I could not help liking the man. He was honest, genuine. Almost more than for that, I liked him for the spontaneous boyish laugh he gave on the occasions when I reached the points of several funny stories. No man could laugh like that and be all bad. |
| 10487 |
I remember with what surprise, when we arose from table, I noted her slender waist. At that moment I got the impression that she was willowy. And willowy she was, with a normal waist and with, in addition, always that informing bodily vigour that made her appear rounder and robuster than she really was. |
| 10488 |
When I studied her face more closely I saw that only the lines of the oval of it were delicate. Delicate it was not, nor fragile. The flesh was firm, and the texture of the skin was firm and fine as it moved over the firm muscles of face and neck. The neck was a beautiful and adequate pillar of white. |
| 10489 |
And yet, did either of the mates spring in and add his strength, they were able to move right along the deck without stopping. Either of the mates, old men that they were, was muscularly worth half a dozen of the wretched creatures. "This is what sailin's come to," Mr. Pike paused to snort in my ear. |
| 10490 |
And as for Miss West, she was so abominably robust that she could not be anything else than an optimist in such matters. She had always lived; her red blood sang to her only that she would always live and that nothing evil would ever happen to her glorious personality. Oh, trust me, I knew the way of red blood. |
| 10491 |
Yes, I, with all the futuristic contempt for woman, am ever caught up afresh by the mystery of woman. Oh, no illusions, thank you. Woman, the love seeker, obsessing and possessing, fragile and fierce, soft and venomous, prouder than Lucifer and as prideless, holds a perpetual, almost morbid, attraction for the thinker. |
| 10492 |
The work was going on, the vigilant seeing and overseeing, that, I could plainly conclude, would go on through every hour of all the hours on the voyage. At half past four I heard the steward's alarm go off, instantly suppressed, and five minutes later I lifted my hand to motion him in through my open door. |
| 10493 |
The carpenter mumbled embarrassed asseverations in broken English of past, present, and future innocence, the while he humbly scraped and shuffled before her on his huge feet. Mr. Mellaire's protestations were of the same nature, save that they were made with the grace and suavity of a Chesterfield. |
| 10494 |
I was only a little girl, but it looked like certain death, for he was falling from the weather side of the yard straight down on deck. But he fell into the belly of the mainsail, breaking his fall, turned a somersault, and landed on his feet on deck and unhurt. And he landed right alongside of Mr. Harding, facing him. |
| 10495 |
And, in the same way, the darkness of lashes and brows and the whiteness of skin set off the warm gray of her eyes. The forehead was, well, medium broad and medium high, and quite smooth. No lines nor hints of lines were there, suggestive of nervousness, of blue days of depression and white nights of insomnia. |
| 10496 |
In vain I waited for him to start some popular song. His records were only of the best, and the care he took of them was a revelation. He handled each one reverently, as a sacred thing, untying and unwrapping it and brushing it with a fine camel's hair brush while it revolved and ere he placed the needle on it. |
| 10497 |
Each touch on the discs was a caress, and while the record played he hovered over it and dreamed in some heaven of music all his own. During this time Captain West lay back and smoked a cigar. His face was expressionless, and he seemed very far away, untouched by the music. I almost doubted that he heard it. |
| 10498 |
Short of sleep from the previous night, I closed my book and turned my light off early. But scarcely had I dropped into slumber when I was aroused by the recrudescence of my hives. All day they had not bothered me; yet the instant I put out the light and slept, the damnable persistent itching set up. |
| 10499 |
In the wretched unbalance that loss of sleep brings to any good sleeper, I could decide only that the voyage was doomed. Yet how doomed it was, in truth, neither I nor a madman could have dreamed. I thought of the red blooded Miss West, who had always lived and had no doubts but what she would always live. |
| 10500 |
Had not Mr. Pike told me, in reply to a question, that he estimated the running expenses of the Elsinore at two hundred dollars a day? I could afford to pay two hundred a day, or two thousand, for the several days that might be necessary to get me back to the land, to a pilot tug, or any inbound craft to Baltimore. |
| 10501 |
And yet I could not like the man. In nothing he said, nor in the manner of saying things, could I find fault. He seemed generous, broad minded, and, for a sailor, very much of a man of the world. It was easy for me to overlook his excessive suavity of speech and super courtesy of social mannerism. It was not that. |
| 10502 |
But all the time I was distressingly, and, I suppose, intuitively aware, though in the darkness I couldn't even see his eyes, that there, behind those eyes, inside that skull, was ambuscaded an alien personality that spied upon me, measured me, studied me, and that said one thing while it thought another thing. |
| 10503 |
Half an hour later, just as the steward's alarm went off, instantly checked by that light sleeping Asiatic, the Elsinore began to heel over on my side. I could hear Mr. Pike barking and snarling orders, and at times a trample and shuffle of many feet passed over my head as the weird crew pulled and hauled. |
| 10504 |
The tiny room, made of steel, was air tight when the steel door was closed. And Nancy insisted on keeping the door closed. As a result Wada, in the upper bunk, had stifled. He told me that the air had got so bad that the flame of the lamp, no matter how high it was turned, guttered down and all but refused to burn. |
| 10505 |
Miss West did not appear, and I was grateful that to my sleeplessness the curse of sea sickness had not been added. Without asking permission of anybody, Wada arranged a sleeping place for himself in a far corner of the big after room, screening the corner with a solidly lashed wall of my trunks and empty book boxes. |
| 10506 |
With my eyes glued to the cabin ports, which gave for'ard along the main deck, I could see the wretched sailors, whenever they were given some task of pull and haul, wet through and through by the boarding seas. Several times I saw some of them taken off their feet and rolled about in the creaming foam. |
| 10507 |
They never shrank away from a splash of spray or heavier bulk of down falling water. They had fed on different food, were informed with a different spirit, were of iron in contrast with the poor miserables they drove to their bidding. In the afternoon I dozed for half an hour in one of the big chairs in the cabin. |
| 10508 |
Had it not been for the violent motion of the ship I could have slept there for hours, for the hives did not trouble. Captain West, stretched out on the cabin sofa, his feet in carpet slippers, slept enviably. By some instinct, I might say, in the deep of sleep, he kept his place and was not rolled off upon the floor. |
| 10509 |
And no Miss West. Wada, too, is sea sick, although heroically he kept his feet and tried to tend on me with glassy, unseeing eyes. I sent him to his bunk, and read through the endless hours until my eyes were tired, and my brain, between lack of sleep and over use, was fuzzy. Captain West is no conversationalist. |
| 10510 |
The mates do all the work, and hard work it is, four hours on deck and four below, day and night with never a variation. I watch Captain West and am amazed. He will loll back in the cabin and stare straight before him for hours at a time, until I am almost frantic to demand of him what are his thoughts. |
| 10511 |
I cannot fathom him. Altogether a depressing day of rain splatter and wash of water across the deck. I can see, now, that the problem of sailing a ship with five thousand tons of coal around the Horn is more serious than I had thought. So deep is the Elsinore in the water that she is like a log awash. |
| 10512 |
She has not the buoyancy one is accustomed to ascribe to ships. On the contrary, she is weighted down until she is dead, so that, for this one day alone, I am appalled at the thought of how many thousands of tons of the North Atlantic have boarded her and poured out through her spouting scuppers and clanging ports. |
| 10513 |
Miss West is still sea sick. I have tired myself out with reading, and the fuzziness of my unsleeping brain makes for melancholy. Even Wada is anything but a cheering spectacle, crawling out of his bunk, as he does at stated intervals, and with sick, glassy eyes trying to discern what my needs may be. |
| 10514 |
So long as I keep my lamp burning and read I am untroubled. The instant I put out the lamp and drowse off the irritation starts and the lumps on my skin begin to form. Miss West may be sea sick, but she cannot be comatose, because at frequent intervals she sends the steward to me with more cream of tartar. |
| 10515 |
Imagine it! Imagine a gale howling from out of the south west. And then imagine the wind, in a heavier and more violent gale, abruptly smiting you from the north west. We had been sailing through a circular storm, Captain West vouchsafed to me, before the event, and the wind could be expected to box the compass. |
| 10516 |
Mr. Pike was with them, working them and working with them. He took every chance they took, yet somehow he escaped being washed off his feet, though several times I saw him entirely buried from view. There was more than luck in the matter; for I saw him, twice, at the head of a line of the men, himself next to the pin. |
| 10517 |
And twice, in this position, I saw the North Atlantic curl over the rail and fall upon them. And each time he alone remained, holding the turn of the rope on the pin, while the rest of them were rolled and sprawled helplessly away. Almost it seemed to me good fun, as at a circus, watching their antics. |
| 10518 |
In the height of the gusts, in my high position, where the seas did not break, I found myself compelled to cling tightly to the rail to escape being blown away. My face was stung to severe pain by the high driving spindrift, and I had a feeling that the wind was blowing the cobwebs out of my sleep starved brain. |
| 10519 |
And yet, through this bedlam of noise, came Captain West's voice, as of a spirit visitant, distinct, unrelated, mellow as all music and mighty as an archangel's call to judgment. And it carried understanding and command to the man at the wheel, and to Mr. Pike, waist deep in the wash of sea below us. |
| 10520 |
And the man at the wheel obeyed, and Mr. Pike obeyed, barking and snarling orders to the poor wallowing devils who wallowed on and obeyed him in turn. And as the voice was the face. This face I had never seen before. It was the face of the spirit visitant, chaste with wisdom, lighted by a splendour of power and calm. |
| 10521 |
To me she is the most erratic thing imaginable; yet Mr. Pike, with whom I now pace the poop on occasion, tells me that coal is a good cargo, and that the Elsinore is well loaded because he saw to it himself. He will pause abruptly, in the midst of his interminable pacing, in order to watch her in her maddest antics. |
| 10522 |
The sight is very pleasant to him, for his eyes glisten and a faint glow seems to irradiate his face and impart to it a hint of ecstasy. The Elsinore has a snug place in his heart, I am confident. He calls her behaviour admirable, and at such times will repeat to me that it was he who saw to her loading. |
| 10523 |
So I shook off the sustaining clutch, and the next moment the Elsinore had smashed down and buried a couple of hundred feet of her starboard rail beneath the sea, while I had shot down the deck and smashed myself breathless against the wall of the chart house. My ribs and one shoulder are sore from it yet. |
| 10524 |
Captain West gave no orders whatever, and, to all intents, was quite oblivious of what was being done. He was again the favoured passenger, taking a stroll for his health's sake. And yet I knew that both his officers were uncomfortably aware of his presence and were keyed to their finest seamanship. |
| 10525 |
He is the brains of the Elsinore. He is the master strategist. There is more in directing a ship on the ocean than in standing watches and ordering men to pull and haul. They are pawns, and the two officers are pieces, with which Captain West plays the game against sea, and wind, and season, and ocean current. |
| 10526 |
And at quarter past seven the steward roused me by shaking my shoulders. It was time to set table. Heavy with the brief heaviness of sleep I had had, I dressed and stumbled up on to the poop in the hope that the wind would clear my brain. Mr. Pike had the watch, and with sure, age lagging step he paced the deck. |
| 10527 |
Yet of the past night alone his hours had been: four to six in the afternoon on deck; eight to twelve on deck; and four to eight in the morning on deck. In a few minutes he would be relieved, but at midday he would again be on deck. I leaned on the poop rail and stared for'ard along the dreary waste of deck. |
| 10528 |
It was at this moment that Miss West emerged upon the poop. She was as rosy and vital as ever, and certainly, if she had been sea sick, she flew no signals of it. As she came toward me, greeting me, I could not help remarking again the lithe and springy limb movement with which she walked, and her fine, firm skin. |
| 10529 |
You'd better get your Wada to make up a camping kit for you. The next couple of nights you'll spend in the cabin or chart room. And be sure Wada removes all silver and metallic tarnishable stuff from your rooms. There's going to be all sorts of fumigating, and tearing out of woodwork, and rebuilding. |
| 10530 |
She is the most capable, practically masterful woman I have ever encountered. What passed between her and Mr. Pike I do not know; but whatever it was, she was convinced that he was not the erring one. In some strange way, my two rooms are the only ones which have been invaded by this plague of vermin. |
| 10531 |
Under Miss West's instructions bunks, drawers, shelves, and all superficial woodwork have been ripped out. She worked the carpenter from daylight till dark, and then, after a night of fumigation, two of the sailors, with turpentine and white lead, put the finishing touches on the cleansing operations. |
| 10532 |
The carpenter is now busy rebuilding my rooms. Then will come the painting, and in two or three more days I expect to be settled back in my quarters. Of the men who did the turpentining and white leading there have been four. Two of them were quickly rejected by Miss West as not being up to the work. |
| 10533 |
But here he is, not a sailor on horseback, but a cowboy on the sea. He is a small man, but most powerfully built. His shoulders are very broad, and his muscles bulge under his shirt; and yet he is slender waisted, lean limbed, and hollow cheeked. This last, however, is not due to sickness or ill health. |
| 10534 |
Tyro as he is on the sea, Steve Roberts is keen and intelligent... yes, and crooked. He has a way of looking straight at one with utmost frankness while he talks, and yet it is at such moments I get most strongly the impression of crookedness. But he is a man, if trouble should arise, to be reckoned with. |
| 10535 |
And then his disease had come upon him, and for a quarter of a century he had been a common tramp and vagabond, and he bragged of a personal acquaintance with more city prisons and county jails than any man that ever existed. It was at this stage in our talk that Mr. Pike thrust his head into the doorway. |
| 10536 |
But he was unafraid. Like a cornered rat, like a rattlesnake on the trail, unflinching, sneering, snarling, he faced the irate giant. More than that. He even thrust his face forward on its twisted neck to meet the blow. It was too much for Mr. Pike; it was too impossible to strike that frail, crippled, repulsive thing. |
| 10537 |
So immense and tremendous was the bitterness that consumed him that he could find no words to clothe it. All he could do was to hawk and guttural deep in his throat until I should not have been surprised had he spat poison in the mate's face. And Mr. Pike turned on his heel and left the room, beaten, absolutely beaten. |
| 10538 |
Under her directions the steward had actually installed a small oil stove in the big coop, and she now beckoned him up to the top of the house as he was passing for'ard to the galley. It was for the purpose of instructing him further in the matter of feeding them. Where were the grits? They needed grits. |
| 10539 |
It was easy to see that they had discovered early in the voyage their kinship of bitterness. Andy Fay, I knew, was sixty three years old, although he looked a hundred; and Mulligan Jacobs, who was only about fifty, made up for the difference by the furnace heat of hatred that burned in his face and eyes. |
| 10540 |
He's a good one, too. Yatsuda is his name. But he's just had blood poisoning and lain in hospital in New York for eighteen months. He flatly refused to let them amputate. He's all right now, but the hand is dead, all except the thumb and fore finger, and he's teaching himself to sew with his left hand. |
| 10541 |
Wada is down as cabin boy, although I paid a good price for his passage and he is my servant. Not much time is lost at sea in getting rid of the dead. Within an hour after I had watched the sail makers at work Christian Jespersen was slid overboard, feet first, a sack of coal to his feet to sink him. |
| 10542 |
At this stage of the voyage I doubt if I could pick out half a dozen of the sailors as men I had ever laid eyes on. So why vex myself with even thinking of this stupid stranger who was killed by another stupid stranger? As well might one die of grief with reading the murder columns of the daily papers. |
| 10543 |
So shrill was his terror that we both stood up. He was dashing along the bridge toward us at full speed, yelping at every jump and continually turning his head back in the direction whence he came. I spoke to him and held out my hand, and was rewarded with a snap and clash of teeth as he scuttled past. |
| 10544 |
Besides, I understand that every forecastle has its bully, or group of bullies; so this is merely a forecastle matter and no concern of the afterguard. The ship's work goes on. The only effect I can conjecture is an increase in the woes of the unfortunates who must bow to this petty tyranny for'ard. |
| 10545 |
The men are not on whack. They have all they want to eat. A barrel of good hardtack stands always open in the forecastle. Louis bakes fresh bread for the sailors three times a week. The variety of food is excellent, if not the quality. There is no restriction in the amount of water for drinking purposes. |
| 10546 |
Scarcely can I call him a perambulating skeleton, because he is too weak to walk. Each day, in this delightful weather, Wada, under Miss West's instructions, brings him up in his box and places him out of the wind on the awninged poop. She has taken full charge of the puppy, and has him sleep in her room each night. |
| 10547 |
And so, every other evening, we watch this killer and driver, with lacerated knuckles and gorilla paws, brushing and caressing his beloved discs, ravished with the music of them, and, as he told me early in the voyage, at such moments believing in God. A strange experience is this life on the Elsinore. |
| 10548 |
Why, I know not, unless it be because she is so abominably healthy. And yet, it is this very health of her, the absence of any shred of degenerative genius, that prevents her from being great... for instance, in her music. A number of times, now, I have come in during the day to listen to her playing. |
| 10549 |
When I closed my eyes I could have sworn it was a man's fingers on the keys. And yet, I must say it, in the long run her playing makes me nervous. I am continually led up to false expectations. Always, she seems just on the verge of achieving the big thing, the super big thing, and always she just misses it by a shade. |
| 10550 |
And then he exploded into action. The age lag left his massive frame, and he bounded aft along the deck at a speed no man on board could have exceeded; and I doubt if very many could have equalled it. He went up the poop ladder three steps at a time and disappeared in the direction of the wheel behind the chart house. |
| 10551 |
Captain West strolled out of the chart room. He said good morning in his customary way, courteously to me and formally to the mate, and strolled on along the poop to the wheel, where he paused to glance into the binnacle. Turning, he went on leisurely to the break of the poop. Again he came back to us. |
| 10552 |
Nobody was much concerned for the man who was overboard somewhere on that lonely ocean. And yet I had to admit that everything possible was being done to find him. I talked a little with Mr. Pike, and he seemed more vexed than anything else. He disliked to have the ship's work interrupted in such fashion. |
| 10553 |
The knife fell into the sea, and the demented creature collapsed and followed it, knocked unconscious. Mr. Pike scooped him out, quite effortlessly it seemed to me, and flung him into the boat's bottom at my feet. The next moment the men were bending to their oars and the mate was steering back to the Elsinore. |
| 10554 |
I could but stare at the lump of unconscious flesh that dripped sea water at my feet. A man, all life and movement one moment, defying the universe, reduced the next moment to immobility and the blackness and blankness of death, is always a fascinating object for the contemplative eye of the philosopher. |
| 10555 |
We have held the north east trade for days now, and the miles roll off behind us as the patent log whirls and tinkles on the taffrail. Yesterday, log and observation approximated a run of two hundred and fifty two miles; the day before we ran two hundred and forty, and the day before that two hundred and sixty one. |
| 10556 |
Nor does it chill. At any hour of the night, while the cabin lies asleep, I break off from my reading and go up on the poop in the thinnest of tropical pyjamas. I never knew before what the trade wind was. And now I am infatuated with it. I stroll up and down for an hour at a time, with whichever mate has the watch. |
| 10557 |
Mr. Mellaire is always full garmented, but Mr. Pike, on these delicious nights, stands his first watch after midnight in his pyjamas. He is a fearfully muscular man. Sixty nine years seem impossible when I see his single, slimpsy garments pressed like fleshings against his form and bulged by heavy bone and huge muscle. |
| 10558 |
Last night, or this morning, rather, about two o'clock, as I lay with the printed page swimming drowsily before me, I was aroused by an abrupt outbreak of snarl from Mr. Pike. I located him as at the break of the poop; and the man at whom he snarled was Larry, evidently on the main deck beneath him. |
| 10559 |
Larry, with his funny pug nose, his curiously flat and twisted face, and his querulous, plaintive chimpanzee eyes, had been moved by some unlucky whim to venture an insolent remark under the cover of darkness on the main deck. But Mr. Pike, from above, at the break of the poop, had picked the offender unerringly. |
| 10560 |
I cannot help being amused by the keen interest I take in little events like the foregoing. Not only has time ceased, but the world has ceased. Strange it is, when I come to think of it, in all these weeks I have received no letter, no telephone call, no telegram, no visitor. I have not been to the play. |
| 10561 |
I have not read a newspaper. So far as I am concerned, there are no plays nor newspapers. All such things have vanished with the vanished world. All that exists is the Elsinore, with her queer human freightage and her cargo of coal, cleaving a rotund of ocean of which the skyline is a dozen miles away. |
| 10562 |
Also, I possessed an air rifle, with which, on great occasion, I was even able to slaughter a robin. While the poop is quite large for promenading, the available space for deck chairs is limited to the awnings that stretch across from either side of the chart house and that are of the width of the chart house. |
| 10563 |
Wherefore, Miss West's chair and mine are most frequently side by side. Captain West has a chair, which he infrequently occupies. He has so little to do in the working of the ship, taking his regular observations and working them up with such celerity, that he is rarely in the chart room for any length of time. |
| 10564 |
He elects to spend his hours in the main cabin, not reading, not doing anything save dream with eyes wide open in the draught of wind that pours through the open ports and door from out the huge crojack and the jigger staysails. Miss West is never idle. Below, in the big after room, she does her own laundering. |
| 10565 |
Then, too, such reading gives rise to discussions, and she has not yet uttered anything that would lead me to change my first judgment of her. She is a genuine daughter of Herodias. And yet she is not what one would call a cute girl. She isn't a girl, she is a mature woman with all the freshness of a girl. |
| 10566 |
Possum, who is now convalescent, accompanies us. The steward makes a point of being there so as to receive instructions and report the egg output and laying conduct of the many hens. At the present time our four dozen hens are laying two dozen eggs a day, with which record Miss West is greatly elated. |
| 10567 |
It was in the second dog watch that evening, a dark night, and the watch was pulling away on the main deck. I had just come out of the chart house door and seen Captain West pace by me, hands in pockets, toward the break of the poop. Abruptly, from the mizzen mast, came a snap of breakage and crash of fabric. |
| 10568 |
We hove over three hundred of them overboard, sir, along with both bosuns, most of the Lascar crew, and the captain, the mate, the third mate, and the first and third engineers. The second and one white oiler was all that was left below, and I was in command on deck, when we made port. The doctors wouldn't come aboard. |
| 10569 |
And after the old man passed out the puppy got real, chummy with me. Just as I was making the hoist of the last sling load, what does the puppy do but jump on my leg and sniff my hand. I turned to pat him, and the next I knew my other hand had slipped into the gears and that finger wasn't there any more. |
| 10570 |
This redoubtable old sea relic has inspired me with a respect for him that partakes half of timidity and half of awe. He acts as if he were suffering from concussion of the brain. His pain is evident, not alone in his eyes and the strained expression of his face, but by his conduct when he thinks he is unobserved. |
| 10571 |
From directly over my head came a low and persistent groaning. My curiosity was aroused, and I retreated into the cabin, came out softly on to the poop by way of the chart house, and strolled noiselessly for'ard in my slippers. It was Mr. Pike. He was leaning collapsed on the rail, his head resting on his arms. |
| 10572 |
Miss West dared to quiz him, and he replied that he had a toothache, and that if it didn't get better he'd pull it out. Wada cannot learn what has happened. There were no eye witnesses. He says that the Asiatic clique, discussing the affair in the cook's room, thinks the three gangsters are responsible. |
| 10573 |
They were having a friendly, even sociable chat, for their voices hummed genially, and now and again one or another laughed, and sometimes all laughed. I remembered Wada's reports on this unseamanlike intimacy of the second mate with the gangsters, and tried to make out the nature of the conversation. |
| 10574 |
It is a very tenable hypothesis, and will bear looking into. But to return. Every one of us who sits aft in the high place is a blond Aryan. For'ard, leavened with a ten per cent, of degenerate blonds, the remaining ninety per cent, of the slaves that toil for us are brunettes. They will not perish. |
| 10575 |
By the end of half an hour, standing on the heaving deck and shooting at bottles floating on the rolling swell, I found that I broke each bottle at the first shot. The supply of empty bottles giving out, Mr. Pike was so interested that he had the carpenter saw me a lot of small square blocks of hard wood. |
| 10576 |
It ranged them the full length of their bodies. One of them'd just landed his brogans on my face when I let'm have it. The bullet entered just above his knee, smashed the collarbone, where it came out, and then clipped off an ear. I guess that bullet's still going. It took more than a full sized man to stop it. |
| 10577 |
It was Sunday morning, so that the crew, except for working the ship, had its time to itself, and soon the carpenter, with a rope for a fish line and a great iron hook baited with a chunk of salt pork the size of my head, captured first one, and then the other, of the monsters. They were hoisted in on the main deck. |
| 10578 |
And then I saw a spectacle of the cruelty of the sea. The full crew gathered about with sheath knives, hatchets, clubs, and big butcher knives borrowed from the galley. I shall not give the details, save that they gloated and lusted, and roared and bellowed their delight in the atrocities they committed. |
| 10579 |
But more amazing things were to follow. Mulligan Jacobs, his arms a butcher's to the elbows, without as much as "by your leave," suddenly thrust a hunk of meat into my hand. I sprang back, startled, and dropped it to the deck, while a gleeful howl went up from the two score men. I was shamed, despite myself. |
| 10580 |
But, drying on the surface in the tropic heat and still pulsing inside, it stuck to my hand, so that it was a bad cast. Instead of clearing the railing, it struck on the pin rail and stuck there in the shade, and as I opened the door to go below and wash my hands, with a last glance I saw it pulse where it had fallen. |
| 10581 |
It moved, it swam, it thrashed about, and ever it strove to escape from the surface of the ocean. Sometimes it swam down as deep as fifty or a hundred feet, and then, still struggling to escape the surface, struggled involuntarily to the surface. Each failure thus to escape fetched wild laughter from the men. |
| 10582 |
But why did they laugh? The thing was sublime, horrible, but it was not humorous. I leave it to you. What is there laughable in the sight of a pain distraught fish rolling helplessly on the surface of the sea and exposing to the sun all its essential emptiness? I was turning away, when renewed shouting drew my gaze. |
| 10583 |
Mr. Pike says that when we reach Seattle there will be a dozen or a score of survivors, huge fellows, the strongest and fiercest. Sometimes, passing the mouth of one ventilator that is in the after wall of the chart house, I can hear their plaintive squealing and crying from far beneath in the coal. |
| 10584 |
For instance, this afternoon on the poop. Let me describe it. Here was Miss West, in a crisp duck sailor suit, immaculately white, open at the throat, where, under the broad collar, was knotted a man of war black silk neckerchief. Her smooth groomed hair, a trifle rebellious in the breeze, was glorious. |
| 10585 |
The sailors passed us, or toiled close to us, with lowered eyes. They did not look at us, so far removed from them were we. It was this contrast that caught my fancy. Here were the high and low, slaves and masters, beauty and ugliness, cleanness and filth. Their feet were bare and scaled with patches of tar and pitch. |
| 10586 |
The Intellect destroys, negatives, satirizes and ends in pure nihilism, instinct creates life, endlessly, hurling forth profusely and blindly its clowns, tragedians and comedians. Intellect remains the eternal spectator of the play. It participates at will, but never gives itself wholly to the fine sport. |
| 10587 |
We are out of the latitude of the trades, and the wind is capricious. Rain squalls and wind squalls vex the Elsinore. One hour we may be rolling sickeningly in a dead calm, and the next hour we may be dashing fourteen knots through the water and taking off sail as fast as the men can clew up and lower away. |
| 10588 |
Speaking of the two mates, iron made and iron mouthed that they are, it is amusing that in really serious moments both of them curse with "Oh dear, oh dear." In the spells of calm I take great delight in the little rifle. I have already fired away five thousand rounds, and have come to consider myself an expert. |
| 10589 |
Yet the bed is not entirely paradise, for Possum is badly frightened when ours is the lee side and the seas pound and smash against the glass ports. Then the little beggar, electric with fear to every hair tip, crouches and snarls menacingly and almost at the same time whimpers appeasingly at the storm monster outside. |
| 10590 |
And as the colours dulled in the slow twilight, the moon, still misty, wept tears of brilliant, heavy silver into the dim lilac sea. And then came the hush of darkness and the night, and we came to ourselves, out of reverie, sated with beauty, leaning toward each other as we leaned upon the rail side by side. |
| 10591 |
His thinness is almost ascetic. In appearance and manner he is the perfect old type New England gentleman. He has the same gray eyes as his daughter, although his are genial rather than warm; and his eyes have the same trick of smiling. His skin is pinker than hers, and his brows and lashes are fairer. |
| 10592 |
Our white ducks are gone, and, in south latitude thirty five, we are wearing the garments of a temperate clime. I notice that Wada has given me heavier underclothes and heavier pyjamas, and that Possum, of nights, is no longer content with the top of the bed but must crawl underneath the bed clothes. |
| 10593 |
Captain West does not seem to be on the lookout for anything; yet I notice that he spends longer hours on deck when the sky and barometer are threatening. Yesterday we had a hint of Plate weather, and to day an awesome fiasco of the same. The hint came last evening between the twilight and the dark. |
| 10594 |
Ahead of us, arising with the swiftness of magic, was a dense slate blackness. I suppose it was cloud formation, but it bore no semblance to clouds. It was merely and sheerly a blackness that towered higher and higher until it overhung us, while it spread to right and left, blotting out half the sea. |
| 10595 |
She ordered me, quite peremptorily, to do the same. But I could not bring myself to leave the deck for fear of missing something, so I compromised by having Wada bring my storm gear to me. And then the wind came, smack out of the blackness, with the abruptness of thunder and accompanied by the most diabolical thunder. |
| 10596 |
And with the rain and thunder came the blackness. It was tangible. It drove past us in the bellowing wind like so much stuff that one could feel. Blackness as well as wind impacted on us. There is no other way to describe it than by the old, ancient old, way of saying one could not see his hand before his face. |
| 10597 |
The wind, which had lulled after the rain, had risen in recurrent gusts to storm violence. But all was well with the gallant ship. The crisis was past, and the ship lived, and we lived, and with streaming faces and bright eyes we looked at each other and laughed in the bright light of the chart room. |
| 10598 |
By ten we were rolling in a dead calm. By eleven the stuff began making up ominously in the south'ard. The overcast sky closed down. Our lofty trucks seemed to scrape the cloud zenith. The horizon drew in on us till it seemed scarcely half a mile away. The Elsinore was embayed in a tiny universe of mist and sea. |
| 10599 |
It grew darker and darker, a green darkness, and in the cabin, although it was midday, Wada and the steward lighted lamps. The lightning came closer and closer, until the ship was enveloped in it. The green darkness was continually a tremble with flame, through which broke greater illuminations of forked lightning. |
| 10600 |
And never had I seen such colours in lightning. Although from moment to moment we were dazzled by the greater bolts, there persisted always a tremulous, pulsing lesser play of light, sometimes softly blue, at other times a thin purple that quivered on into a thousand shades of lavender. And there was no wind. |
| 10601 |
The cloud mass thinned, the day brightened, the green blackness passed into gray twilight, the lightning eased, the thunder moved along away from us, and there was no wind. In half an hour the sun was shining, the thunder muttered intermittently along the horizon, and the Elsinore still rolled in a hush of air. |
| 10602 |
During the display the rest of the horizon glowed with broad bands of pink, and blue, and pale green, and yellow. A little later, when the sun was quite down, in the background of the curdled clouds smouldered a wine red mass of colour, that faded to bronze and tinged all the fading greens with its sanguinary hue. |
| 10603 |
And with all this wonder of the beauty of the world still glowing in my brain hours afterward, I hear the snarling of Mr. Pike above my head, and the trample and drag of feet as the men move from rope to rope and pull and haul. More weather is making, and from the way sail is being taken in it cannot be far off. |
| 10604 |
Miss West says the barometer is down, but that the warning has been too long, for the Plate, to amount to anything. Pamperos happen quickly here, and though the Elsinore, under bare poles to her upper topsails, is prepared for anything, it may well be that they will be crowding on canvas in another hour. |
| 10605 |
Nevertheless, his voice went out in a snarl aloft to the men on the royal yards to make all fast again. Then it was clewlines and buntlines and lowering of yards as the topgallant sails were stripped off. The crojack was taken in, and some of the outer fore and aft handsails, whose order of names I can never remember. |
| 10606 |
It was a cloud mass that blotted out the sunlight and the day. It seemed to swell and belch and roll over and over on itself as it advanced with a rapidity that told of enormous wind behind it and in it. Its speed was headlong, terrific; and, beneath it, covering the sea, advancing with it, was a gray bank of mist. |
| 10607 |
Immediately this was accomplished Captain West had her brought back upon the wind. And immediately, thereupon, the big foresail went adrift from its gaskets. The shock, or succession of shocks, to the ship, from the tremendous buffeting that followed, was fearful. It seemed she was being racked to pieces. |
| 10608 |
It was all wrong from the first. It had not come on right. It had no reason to be. He paused a little longer, and, in a casual way, that under the circumstances was ridiculously transparent, exposed what was at ferment in his mind. First of all he was absurd enough to ask if Possum showed symptoms of sea sickness. |
| 10609 |
Then came a change, an easement. No longer was it a stubborn, loggy fight against pressures. The Elsinore moved. I could feel her slip, and slide, and send, and soar. Whereas before she had been flung continually down to port, she now rolled as far to one side as to the other. I knew what had taken place. |
| 10610 |
I was awakened at five by the thunder of seas that fell aboard, rushed down the main deck, and crashed against the cabin wall. Through my open door I could see water swashing up and down the hall, while half a foot of water creamed and curdled from under my bunk across the floor each time the ship rolled to starboard. |
| 10611 |
I missed a frantic clutch at the newel post, flung up my arm in time to save my face, and, most fortunately, whirled half about, and, still falling, impacted with my shoulder muscle pad on Captain West's door. Youth will have its way. So will a ship in a sea. And so will a hundred and seventy pounds of a man. |
| 10612 |
The beautiful hardwood door panel splintered, the latch fetched away, and I broke the nails of the four fingers of my right hand in a futile grab at the flying door, marring the polished surface with four parallel scratches. I kept right on, erupting into Captain West's spacious room with the big brass bed. |
| 10613 |
The flesh of his face, the pink pigment quite washed and worn away, was more transparent than ever; and yet never was he more serene, never more the master absolute of our tiny, fragile world. The age that showed in him was not a matter of terrestrial years. It was ageless, passionless, beyond human. |
| 10614 |
Water was everywhere. The Elsinore was rushing through a blurring whirr of water. Seas creamed and licked the poop deck edge, now to starboard, now to port. High in the air, over towering and perilously down toppling, following seas pursued our stern. The air was filled with spindrift like a fog or spray. |
| 10615 |
The only sail she carried was three upper topsails. Not the tiniest triangle of headsail was on her. I had never seen her with so little wind surface, and the three narrow strips of canvas, bellied to the seemingness of sheet iron with the pressure of the wind, drove her before the gale at astonishing speed. |
| 10616 |
Again they waited for the water to subside. The mass of wreckage pursued by Mr. Pike and his men ground a hundred feet along the deck for'ard, and, as the Elsinore's stern sank down in some abyss, ground back again and smashed up against the cabin wall. I identified this stuff as part of the bridge. |
| 10617 |
Mr. Pike, in the lead, of course, up to his waist in rushing water, dashed in, caught the flying wreckage with a turn of rope, and fetched it up short with a turn around one of the port mizzen shrouds. The Elsinore flung down to port, and a solid wall of down toppling green upreared a dozen feet above the rail. |
| 10618 |
Paddy was next, and in order came Shorty, Henry the training ship boy, and Nancy, last, of course, and looking as if he were going to execution. The deck water was no more than knee deep, though rushing with torrential force, when Mr. Pike and the six men lifted the section of bridge and started for'ard with it. |
| 10619 |
Through the creaming, foaming surface now and then emerged an arm, or a head, or a back, while cruel edges of jagged plank and twisted steel rods advertised that the bridge was turning over and over. I wondered what men were beneath it and what mauling they were receiving. And yet these men did not count. |
| 10620 |
And again that amazing blond skinned giant emerged, on his two legs upstanding, a broken waif like a rat in either hand. He forced his way through rushing, waist high water, deposited his burdens with the carpenter on the fife rail, and returned to drag Larry reeling to his feet and help him to the fife rail. |
| 10621 |
Out of the wash, Tony, the Greek, crawled on hands and knees and sank down helplessly at the fife rail. There was nothing suicidal now in his mood. Struggle as he would, he could not lift himself until the mate, gripping his oilskin at the collar, with one hand flung him through the air into the carpenter's arms. |
| 10622 |
Behold, as they approach the southern mid winter of the Horn, when they have need of all their feathers, they proceed to moult, because, forsooth, this is the summer time in the land they came from. Or is moulting determined by the time of year they happen to be born? I shall have to look into this. |
| 10623 |
So evident is it that a laden ship when in big seas is like a log awash, that fore and aft, on both sides, along the deck, shoulder high, life lines have been rigged. Also, the two iron doors, on port and starboard, that open from the cabin directly upon the main deck, have been barricaded and caulked. |
| 10624 |
It was palpably done by some one or several of the forecastle hands; but not a word can be elicited. Those who are guilty of it are silent, of course; while others who may chance to know are afraid to speak. Before midday the body was overside with the customary sack of coal. Already the man is a past episode. |
| 10625 |
When I talked with the sail maker, he complained that his injured hand was hurting him and that he would be glad when he could get to the surgeons in Seattle. As for the murder, when pressed by me, he gave me to understand that it was no affair of the Japanese or Chinese on board, and that he was a Japanese. |
| 10626 |
And to day the secret leaked out. Wada does not like Mr. Mellaire, and this morning, when he brought me breakfast, I saw by the wicked, gleeful gleam in his almond eyes that he was spilling over with some fresh, delectable ship's gossip. For several days, I learned, he and the steward have been solving a cabin mystery. |
| 10627 |
I have been watching some time now, ever since the death of Marinkovich; and I am certain that Mr. Pike never ventures on the main deck after dark. Yet he holds his tongue, confides in no man, and plays out the bitter perilous game as a commonplace matter of course and all in the day's work. And now to the episode. |
| 10628 |
Five minutes passed. Ten minutes passed. The men still talked. I was tantalized by the crying of the penguins, and by the whale, evidently playful, which came so close that it spouted and splashed a biscuit toss away. I saw Mr. Pike's head turn at the sound; he glanced squarely in my direction, but did not see me. |
| 10629 |
I knew every man stood there tense and listening. No; the philosophers have not yet explained Mulligan Jacobs. There is something more to him than the last word has said in any book. He stood there in the darkness, a fragile creature with curvature of the spine, facing alone the first mate, and he was not afraid. |
| 10630 |
Long, low chains of peaks, snow covered, arose out of the ocean. As we drew closer, there were no signs of life. It was a sheer, savage, bleak, forsaken land. By eleven, off the entrance of Le Maire Straits, the squalls ceased, the wind steadied, and the tide began to make through in the direction we desired to go. |
| 10631 |
Close we were to them, and close we were to the jagged coast of Staten Island on the opposite shore. It was here, in a wild bight, between two black and precipitous walls of rock where even the snow could find no lodgment, that Captain West paused in a casual sweep of his glasses and gazed steadily at one place. |
| 10632 |
The regular passage is far to the east around Staten Island, which means a loss of westing, and here, at the tip of the world, where the great west wind, unobstructed by any land, sweeps round and around the narrow girth of earth, westing is the thing that has to be fought for mile by mile and inch by inch. |
| 10633 |
The wind had come out of the south west, and our leeway was setting us down upon the land. Captain West gave orders to the mate to stand by to wear ship. Both watches had been taking in sail, so that both watches were on deck for the manoeuvre. It was astounding, the big sea that had arisen in so short a time. |
| 10634 |
Nothing was visible a hundred yards away. The day had become black gray. In the cabin lamps were burning. The view from the poop, along the length of the great labouring ship, was magnificent. Seas burst and surged across her weather rail and kept her deck half filled, despite the spouting ports and gushing scuppers. |
| 10635 |
And the world was black gray, and violent, and very cold, with the flying spray freezing to ice in every lodgment. We waited. The groups of men, head down to it, waited. Mr. Pike, restless, angry, his blue eyes as bitter as the cold, his mouth as much a snarl as the snarl of the elements with which he fought, waited. |
| 10636 |
The angle of the beat of the gale changed, and soon, with dreadful speed, we were dashing straight before it and straight toward the rocks we could not see. But all doubt was over. The success of the manoeuvre was assured. Mr. Mellaire, informed by messenger along the bridge from Mr. Pike, slacked off the head yards. |
| 10637 |
The lighted sea lamps swung and leaped in their gimbals, ever battling with the dancing shadows in the murky gray. The wood work creaked and groaned. The jiggermast, a huge cylinder of hollow steel that perforated the apartment through deck above and floor beneath, was hideously vocal with the storm. |
| 10638 |
Far above, taut ropes beat against it so that it clanged like a boiler shop. There was a perpetual thunder of seas falling on our deck and crash of water against our for'ard wall; while the ten thousand ropes and gears aloft bellowed and screamed as the storm smote them. And yet all this was from without. |
| 10639 |
Our main deck was impassable, and the relief of the wheel came aft along the bridge. It was two o'clock, and for over two hours the frozen wretches had laid out upon the fore yard. They were still there, weak, feeble, hopeless. Captain West, stepping out in the lee of the chart house, gazed at them for several minutes. |
| 10640 |
Yet it was slow work. In the windward rolls against the storm gusts one was pinned helplessly, like a butterfly, against the rigging. At such times, so great was the pressure one could not lift hand nor foot. Also, there was no need for holding on. As I have said, one was pinned against the rigging by the wind. |
| 10641 |
I was in an ecstasy. I could dare anything. Had she sprung into the air, stretched out her arms, and soared away on the breast of the gale, I should have unhesitatingly followed her. As my head outpassed the edge of the top so that she came into view, I could see she was looking at me with storm bright eyes. |
| 10642 |
But no. Out of the snow, down wind, with motionless wings, driving fully eighty or ninety miles an hour, appeared a huge albatross. He must have been fifteen feet from wing tip to wing tip. He had seen his danger ere we saw him, and, tilting his body on the blast, he carelessly veered clear of collision. |
| 10643 |
They must dry their underclothing with their body heat. Their outer garments, under their oilskins, are soggy. And yet, paradoxically, despite their lean, drawn faces, they have grown very stout. Their walk is a waddle, and they bulge with seaming corpulency. This is due to the amount of clothing they have on. |
| 10644 |
But the unending physical strain is very wearisome. How it must be with the poor devils for'ard is beyond conceiving. The forecastle has been washed out several times, and everything is soaking wet. Besides, they have grown weaker, and two watches are required to do what one ordinary watch could do. |
| 10645 |
Thus, they must spend as many hours on the sea swept deck and aloft on the freezing yards as I do in my warm, dry bunk. Wada tells me that they never undress, but turn into their wet bunks in their oil skins and sea boots and wet undergarments. To look at them crawling about on deck or in the rigging is enough. |
| 10646 |
This means more work for the others, so that the men on their feet are not tolerant of the sick ones, and a man must be very sick to escape being dragged out to work by his mates. I cannot but marvel at Andy Fay and Mulligan Jacobs. Old and fragile as they are, it seems impossible that they can endure what they do. |
| 10647 |
As we emerged, from under the forecastle head we heard a tremendous thumping and battering. Then, as the bow lifted, for an instant in the pencil of light that immediately lost it, I glimpsed a vague black object that bounded down the inclined deck where no water was. What became of it we could not see. |
| 10648 |
Again, as the Elsinore dipped by the head and fetched a surge of sea water from aft along the runway, I saw the dark object bound for'ard directly at the mates. They sprang to safety from its charge, the light went out, while another icy sea broke aboard. For a time I could see nothing of the two men. |
| 10649 |
Next, in the light flashed from the stick, I guessed that Mr. Pike was in pursuit of the thing. He evidently must have captured it at the rail against the starboard rigging and caught a turn around it with a loose end of rope. As the vessel rolled to windward some sort of a struggle seemed to be going on. |
| 10650 |
In the flickering light from a small and very smoky sea lamp it was a dismal picture. No self respecting cave man, I am sure, would have lived in such a hole. Even as I looked a bursting sea filled the runway between the house and rail, and through the doorway in which I stood the freezing water rushed waist deep. |
| 10651 |
Nothing was to be seen nor heard save the white flecked dark water on our deck, the roar of the gale in our rigging, and the crash and thunder of seas falling aboard. We advanced half way across the last span of bridge to the fore castle head, and were driven to pause and hang on at the foremast by a bursting sea. |
| 10652 |
Then he went on to the forecastle head, followed by Mr. Mellaire, while I waited by the foremast, clinging tight, and endured another ducking. Through the emergencies I could see the pencil of light, appearing and disappearing, darting here and there. Several minutes later the mates were back with me. |
| 10653 |
Led by Mr. Pike and watching our chance between seas, we searched the deck and rails between the forecastle head and the for'ard house and found no devils. The mate stepped into the forecastle doorway, and his light stick cut like a dagger through the dim illumination of the murky sea lamp. And we saw the devils. |
| 10654 |
They were topaz, pale topaz; and they gleamed and dreamed like the eyes of great cats. They regarded us like walkers in a dream, these pale haired storm waifs with pale, topaz eyes. They did not bow, they did not smile, in no way did they recognize our presence save that they looked at us and dreamed. |
| 10655 |
But it was no time for their private feud. Mr. Pike turned on the dreaming new comers and addressed them in the mangled and aborted phrases of a dozen languages such as the world wandering Anglo Saxon has had every opportunity to learn but is too stubborn brained and wilful mouthed to wrap his tongue about. |
| 10656 |
They understood the mate's invitation, and, glancing first at one another, they climbed into three top bunks and closed their eyes. I could swear the first of them was asleep in half a minute. "We'll have to clean up for'ard, or we'll be having the sticks about our ears," the mate said, already starting to depart. |
| 10657 |
Margaret's mittened hand rested on my arm as we balanced to the easy roll of the ship. We had paused from our promenade, which we now take each day, religiously, as a constitutional, between eleven and twelve. "Why, what is the matter with them?" she queried, nudging me privily in warning of what was coming. |
| 10658 |
I have learned one of the prime virtues of a steel sailing ship. Such a craft, heavily laden, does not strain her seams open in bad weather and big seas. Except for a tiny leak down in the fore peak, with which we sailed from Baltimore and which is bailed out with a pail once in several weeks, the Elsinore is bone dry. |
| 10659 |
There is little use to describe these monotonous and perpetual westerly gales. One is very like another, and they follow so fast on one another's heels that the sea never has a chance to grow calm. So long have we rolled and tossed about that the thought, say, of a solid, unmoving billiard table is inconceivable. |
| 10660 |
He seems actually to be gaining in weight. He never misses a meal. From the break of the poop, in the shelter of the weather cloth, our decks a thunder and rush of freezing water, I often watch him slip out of his room between seas, mug and plate in hand, and hobble for'ard to the galley for his food. |
| 10661 |
So Captain West hugs the land. He heaves to on the port tack until the leeward drift brings the land into perilous proximity, then wears ship and heaves to on the port tack and makes leeway off shore. I may be weary of all this bitter movement of a labouring ship on a frigid sea, but at the same time I do not mind it. |
| 10662 |
In my brain burns the flame of a great discovery and a great achievement. I have found what makes all the books go glimmering; I have achieved what my very philosophy tells me is the greatest achievement a man can make. I have found the love of woman. I do not know whether she cares for me. Nor is that the point. |
| 10663 |
Even this position is conjectural, being arrived at by dead reckoning, based on the leeway of a ship hove to, now on the one tack, now on the other, with always the Great West Wind Drift making against us. It is four days since our last instrument sight of the sun. This storm vexed ocean has become populous. |
| 10664 |
No ships are getting round, and each day adds to our number. Never a brief day passes without our sighting from two or three to a dozen hove to on port tack or starboard tack. Captain West estimates there must be at least two hundred sail of us. A ship hove to with preventer tackles on the rudder head is unmanageable. |
| 10665 |
And it was told again, and by both of us, in the bright lighted chart room after the watches had been changed at eight bells. Yes, and her face was storm bright, and all of her was very proud, save that her eyes were warm and soft and fluttered with lids that just would flutter maidenly and womanly. |
| 10666 |
Or was it the darkness of oncoming death that chilled and clouded that star cool brain of his, and made a mock of all his wisdom? Or was it the blunder that brought death upon him beforehand? I do not know, I shall never know; for it is a matter no one of us dreams of hinting at, much less discussing. |
| 10667 |
At the changing of the watches at four o'clock, Captain West gave the command to Mr. Pike to wear ship. We were on the starboard tack at the time, making leeway off shore. This manoeuvre placed us on the port tack, and the consequent leeway, to me, seemed on shore, though at an acute angle, to be sure. |
| 10668 |
There stood Mr. Pike, his sou'wester doffed, his oilskins streaming rivulets to the floor, while he, dividers and parallel rulers in hand, bent over the chart. It was the expression of his face that startled me. The habitual sourness had vanished. All that I could see was anxiety and apprehension... |
| 10669 |
I slipped away from the port and went along the deck to the break of the poop, where I held on and stood staring through the gray and spray in the conjectural direction of our drift. Somewhere, there, in the north east and north, I knew was a broken, iron coast of rocks upon which the graybeards thundered. |
| 10670 |
Age was beginning to tell upon him at last, which could not be otherwise than expected when one considered that no man in ten thousand had weathered age so successfully as he. I laughed at my moment's qualm of foolishness and went below, well content to meet my loved one and to rest secure in her father's wisdom. |
| 10671 |
I fell asleep quickly, and awoke at midnight, my lamp still burning, Conrad's Mirror of the Sea on my breast where it had dropped from my hands. I heard the watches change, and was wide awake and reading when Mr. Pike came below by the booby hatch and passed down my hail by my open door, on his way to his room. |
| 10672 |
I proceeded to feel Mr. Mellaire out as we worked our way aft, along the mad poop toward the wheel. I talked about the difficulty of sleeping in stormy weather, stated the restlessness and semi insomnia that the violent motion of the ship caused in me, and raised the query of how bad weather affected the officers. |
| 10673 |
I'm dead the moment my head touches the pillow. It takes Mr. Pike longer, because he always finishes his cigarette after he turns in. But he smokes while he's undressing, so that he doesn't require more than a minute to go deado. I'll wager he hasn't moved, right now, since ten minutes after twelve. |
| 10674 |
Another peep into the chart room showed me Captain West sleeping as before. He had not moved in general, though all his body moved with every roll and fling of the ship. Below, Margaret's light still burned, but a peep showed her asleep, her book fallen from her hands just as was the so frequent case with my books. |
| 10675 |
Nor did I remove aught of my storm gear save the soggy mittens, which I wrung out and hung to dry by the stove. Four bells struck, and six bells, and Mr. Pike had not returned below. At eight bells, with the changing of the watches, it came upon me what a night of hardship the old mate was enduring. |
| 10676 |
He was sitting on the couch, white faced, one sea boot in his hands, and I could have sworn his hands were shaking. That much I saw, and the next moment was out on deck. At first, just emerged from the light, I could see nothing, although I could hear men at the pin rails and the mate snarling and shouting commands. |
| 10677 |
But I knew the manoeuvre. With a weak crew, in the big, tail end sea of a broken gale, breakers and destruction under her lee, the Elsinore was being worn around. We had been under lower topsails and a reefed foresail all night. Mr. Pike's first action, after putting the wheel up, had been to square the mizzen yards. |
| 10678 |
With the wind pressure thus eased aft, the stern could more easily swing against the wind while the wind pressure on the for'ard sails paid the bow off. But it takes time to wear a ship, under short canvas, in a big sea. Slowly, very slowly, I could feel the direction of the wind altering against my cheek. |
| 10679 |
Even Sundry Buyers, who had drifted aft in his stupidity instead of being for'ard with his own officer, forebore to stare about and to press his abdomen. For the nonce he pulled like a youngling of twenty. The moon covered again, and it was in darkness that the Elsinore rounded up on the wind on the starboard tack. |
| 10680 |
So close were we that I looked to see our far reeling skysail yards strike the face of the rock. So close were we, no more than a biscuit toss from its iron buttress, that as we sank down into the last great trough between two seas I can swear every one of us held breath and waited for the Elsinore to strike. |
| 10681 |
Instead we drove free. And as if in very rage at our escape, the storm took that moment to deal us the mightiest buffet of all. The mate felt that monster sea coming, for he sprang to the wheel ere the blow fell. I looked for'ard, and I saw all for'ard blotted out by the mountain of water that fell aboard. |
| 10682 |
Along the bridge came the relayed cry of "Man overboard!" I glanced at the mate, who had just released the wheel to the helmsmen. He shook his head, as if irritated by so trivial a happening, walked to the corner of the half wheelhouse, and stared at the coast he had escaped, white and black and cold in the moonlight. |
| 10683 |
They were straight from the shoulder remarks, or, as he called them, they were "brass tacks." Among other things he told the sailors that they had another boss, and that they would toe the mark as they never had before. Up to this time they had been loafing in an hotel, but from this time on they were going to work. |
| 10684 |
Held in superstitious abhorrence by the rest of the crew, aliens by lack of any word of common speech, nevertheless they are good sailors and are always first to spring into any enterprise of work or peril. They have gone into Mr. Mellaire's watch, and they are quite apart from the rest of the sailors. |
| 10685 |
He is too keenly intelligent, too sharply sensitive, successfully to endure. He is a shadow of his former self. His cheeks have fallen in. Dark circles of suffering are under his eyes, while his eyes, Latin and English intermingled, are cavernously sunken and as bright burning as if aflame with fever. |
| 10686 |
Never a day does the gray thin, or the snow squalls cease that we do not sight ships, west bound like ourselves, hove to and trying to hold on to the meagre westing they possess. And occasionally, when the gray clears and lifts, we see a lucky ship, bound east, running before it and reeling off the miles. |
| 10687 |
But now he seems bent on keeping on good terms with the crew. I should like to know what Mr. Pike thinks of it, for he cannot possibly be blind to what is going on; but I am too well aware of what would happen if I raised the question. He would insult me, snap my head off, and indulge in a three days' sea grouch. |
| 10688 |
His passing, and the coming of the easterly wind, were coincidental. It was yesterday morning, as he helped me to dress, that I was struck by the solemnity of Wada's face. He shook his head lugubriously as he broke the news. The carpenter was missing. The ship had been searched for him high and low. |
| 10689 |
It was across a mad ocean we tore, for the mounting sea that made from eastward bucked into the West End Drift and battled and battered down the huge south westerly swell. And the big grinning dolt of a Finnish carpenter, already food for fish and bird, was astern there somewhere in the freezing rack and drive. |
| 10690 |
Through the pitch black night we continued to drive. The crew was sadly frightened, and I sought in vain, in the two dog watches, for Tom Spink, to ask him if he thought the carpenter, astern, had opened wide the bag mouth and loosed all his tricks. For the first time I saw the steward apprehensive. |
| 10691 |
Nor was there even the comfort of warmth. Something had gone wrong with the big cabin stove, due to our wild running, I fancy, and the steward was compelled to let the fire go out. So we are getting a taste of the hardship of the forecastle, though in our case everything is dry instead of soggy or afloat. |
| 10692 |
Mr. Pike was like a boy just loosed from school. He altered our course so that we passed her a hundred yards away. She was a gallant sight, but, such was our speed, she appeared standing still. Mr. Pike jumped upon the rail and insulted those on her poop by extending a rope's end in invitation to take a tow. |
| 10693 |
She wants the strength that man has to give, and I flatter myself that I am ten times a stronger man than I was when the voyage began, because I am a thousand times a more human man since I told the books to go hang and began to revel in the human maleness of the man that loves a woman and is loved. |
| 10694 |
The men would not accept the driving when the Elsinore won to easier latitudes. Mr. Pike was right. Hell had not begun to pop. But it has popped now, and men are overboard without even the kindliness of a sack of coal at their feet. And yet the men, though ripe for it, did not precipitate the trouble. |
| 10695 |
He was in a dream, a trance, his great hands knotting and clenching unconsciously as he stared at the mark unmistakable by which he had said that he would some day identify the murderer of Captain Somers. And in that moment I remembered having heard him declare that some day he would stick his fingers in that mark. |
| 10696 |
It so happened that the sharp point of the marlin spike struck the wooden floor of the bridge, and it penetrated the planking with such force that after it had fetched to a standstill it vibrated violently for long seconds. I confess that I failed to observe a tithe of what occurred during the next several minutes. |
| 10697 |
It may have been due to lack of presence of mind, or to lack of habituation to an active part in scenes of quick action; but at any rate I merely retained my position at the break of the poop and looked on. I was the only person on the poop when the mutineers, led by the second mate and the gangsters, rushed it. |
| 10698 |
I was aware that more of the men were climbing up the ladder and gaining the poop, but I had no eyes for them. I was watching that sanguinary group aft near the wheel and noting the most important thing, namely, that it was Bert Rhine, the gangster, and not the second mate, who gave orders and was obeyed. |
| 10699 |
Isaac Chantz jerked open the chart house door, which swung outward. Things did happen so swiftly! As he jerked the iron door open a two foot hacking butcher knife, at the end of a withered, yellow hand, flashed out and down on him. It missed head and neck, but caught him on top of the left shoulder. |
| 10700 |
I shall never know how many times I hit him, but I am confident that after he had begun his long staggering fall at least three additional bullets entered him ere he impacted on the deck. And even as he was falling, aimlessly and mechanically, stricken then with death, he managed twice again to discharge his weapon. |
| 10701 |
With us are servants and serfs, faithful to their salt, who look to us for guidance and life. I use my words advisedly. Tom Spink and Buckwheat are serfs and nothing else. Henry, the training ship boy, occupies an anomalous classification. He is of our kind, but he can scarcely be called even a cadet of our kind. |
| 10702 |
He will some day win to us and become a mate or a captain, but in the meantime, of course, his past is against him. He is a candidate, rising from the serf class to our class. Also, he is only a youth, the iron of his heredity not yet tested and proven. Wada, Louis, and the steward are servants of Asiatic breed. |
| 10703 |
These are still caulked and tight and fastened on the inside, as they have been since the passage of Cape Horn began. Mr. Pike put one of the sail makers at the wheel, and the steward, relieved and starting below, was attracted to the port quarter, where the patent log that towed astern was made fast. |
| 10704 |
Above them and about them circled curious and hungry albatrosses, Cape hens, and mollyhawks. Even as I glimpsed the situation one of the big birds, a ten footer at least, with a ten inch beak to the fore, dropped down on the Italian. Releasing his hold with one hand, he struck with his knife at the bird. |
| 10705 |
A great screeching and squawking arose from the winged things of prey as they strove for the living meat. And yet, somehow, I was not very profoundly shocked. These were the men whom I had seen eviscerate the shark and toss it overboard, and shout with joy as they watched it devoured alive by its brethren. |
| 10706 |
We are no longer sailing. In last night's darkness we helplessly listened to the men loosing headsail halyards and letting yards go down on the run. Under orders of Mr. Pike I shot blindly and many times into the dark, but without result, save that we heard the bullets of answering shots strike against the chart house. |
| 10707 |
Charles David tried the same game and was similarly stimulated. Also, this evening, after dark, Mr. Pike put block and tackle on the first section of the bridge, heaved it out of place, and lowered it upon the poop. Likewise he hoisted in the ladder at the break of the poop that leads down to the main deck. |
| 10708 |
She leaves the deck to the mate and me; but, still acknowledging his leadership, she has taken charge below and entirely manages the commissary, the cooking, and the sleeping arrangements. We still keep our old quarters, and she has bedded the new comers in the big after room with blankets issued from the slop chest. |
| 10709 |
In the second dog watch this evening, after Mr. Pike had finished dinner and joined us on the poop, she told him that if he did not soon re rig his phonograph she was going to start in on the piano. The reason she advanced was the psychological effect such sounds of revelry would have on the starving mutineers. |
| 10710 |
Not until evening did she manage to get the wind on her port bow; but when she did, she immediately paid off, accomplished the complete circle in an hour, and recommenced her morning tactics of trying to get into the wind. And there is nothing for us to do save hold the poop against the attack that is never made. |
| 10711 |
This noon she was eight miles east of yesterday's position, yet to day's position, in longitude, was within a mile of where she was four days ago. On the other hand she invariably makes nothing at the rate of seven or eight miles a day. Aloft, the Elsinore is a sad spectacle. All is confusion and disorder. |
| 10712 |
The only yard that is loose is the main yard. It is fortunate that wind and wave are mild, else would the iron work carry away and the mutineers find the huge thing of steel about their ears. There is one thing we cannot understand. A week has passed, and the men show no signs of being starved into submission. |
| 10713 |
Repeatedly and in vain has Mr. Pike interrogated the hands aft with us. One and all, from the cook to Buckwheat, they swear they have no knowledge of any food for'ard, save the small supply in the galley and the barrel of hardtack in the forecastle. Yet it is very evident that those for'ard are not starving. |
| 10714 |
Mr. Pike is not quite himself. He is obsessed, I know beyond any doubt, with the idea of vengeance on the second mate. On divers occasions, now, I have come unexpectedly upon him and found him muttering to himself with grim set face, or clenching and unclenching his big square fists and grinding his teeth. |
| 10715 |
Life is never what we expect it to be. All our voyage from Baltimore south to the Horn and around the Horn has been marked by violence and death. And now that it has culminated in open mutiny there is no more violence, much less death. We keep to ourselves aft, and the mutineers keep to themselves for'ard. |
| 10716 |
There is no more harshness, no more snarling and bellowing of commands; and in this fine weather a general festival obtains. Aft, Mr. Pike and Margaret alternate with phonograph and piano; and for'ard, although we cannot see them, a full fledged "foo foo" band makes most of the day and night hideous. |
| 10717 |
Some genius has rigged a line to the clapper of the ship's bell on the forecastle head and clangs it horribly in the big foo foo crises, though Bombini can be heard censuring him severely on occasion. And to cap it all, the fog horn machine pumps in at the oddest moments in imitation of a big bass viol. |
| 10718 |
He probed for the bullet with his little finger, which was far too big for the aperture; and with his little finger, while with his other hand he threatened another ear clout, he gouged out the leaden pellet. Then he sent the boy below, where Margaret took him in charge with antiseptics and dressings. |
| 10719 |
She has issued underclothes all around from the slop chest, and is ordering them to take a bath in the rain water just caught. And to make sure of their thoroughness in the matter, she has told off Louis and the steward to supervise the operation. Also, she has forbidden them smoking their pipes in the after room. |
| 10720 |
And, to cap everything, they are to scrub walls, ceiling, everything, and then start to morrow morning at painting. All of which serves to convince me almost that mutiny does not obtain and that I have imagined it. But no. I hear Buckwheat blubbering and demanding how he can take a bath in his wounded condition. |
| 10721 |
A few minutes after they caught the first one its carcase was flung overboard. Mr. Pike studied it through his sea glasses, and I heard him grit his teeth when he made certain that it was not the mere feathers and skin but the entire carcass. They had taken only its wing bones to make into pipe stems. |
| 10722 |
It has just struck me that of our eight followers five are Asiatic and only three are our own breed. Somehow it reminds me of India and of Clive and Hastings. And the fine weather continues, and we wonder how long a time must elapse ere our mutineers eat up their mysterious food and are starved back to work. |
| 10723 |
Mr. Pike is beside himself. In the past two days he has displayed increasing possession of himself by the one idea of vengeance on the second mate. It is not the mutiny, irksome as it is and helpless as it makes him; it is the presence of the murderer of his old time and admired skipper, Captain Somers. |
| 10724 |
Yesterday, coming to relieve me, he borrowed my rifle and turned loose the stream of tiny pellets on the second mate, who coolly made his line secure ere he scrambled in board. Of course, it was only one chance in a hundred that Mr. Pike might have hit him, but Sidney Waltham did not care to encourage the chance. |
| 10725 |
I shall never doubt it again. It may be nineteen thirteen mutiny on a coal carrier, with feeblings and imbeciles and criminals for mutineers; but at any rate mutiny it is, and at least in the number of deaths it is reminiscent of the old days. For things have happened since last I had opportunity to write up this log. |
| 10726 |
I felt this, but was quite unprepared for what followed. "I'll be back in a minute," he said, as he put his leg over the rail and lightly and swiftly lowered himself down into the darkness. There was nothing I could do. To cry out or to attempt to reason with him would only have drawn the mutineers' attention. |
| 10727 |
It is inconceivable that he did not use it at least once. Margaret and I discussed the affair till we were well a weary, but reached no conclusion. She is a true daughter of the race. At the end of the second dog watch, armed with her father's revolver, she insisted on standing the first watch of the night. |
| 10728 |
Buckwheat, who on account of his wound is getting all night in for a couple of nights, cherishes a hatchet. The rest of our retainers have knives and clubs, although Yatsuda, the first sail maker, carries a hand axe, and Uchino, the second sail maker, sleeping or waking, never parts from a claw hammer. |
| 10729 |
It is rather shuddery, however, to speculate on the terrible assortment of cutting, gouging, jabbing and slashing weapons with which the mutineers are able to equip themselves from the carpenter's shop. If it ever comes to an assault on the poop there will be a weird mess of wounds for the survivors to dress. |
| 10730 |
For that matter, master as I am of my little rifle, no man could gain the poop in the day time. Of course, if rush they will, they will rush us in the night, when my rifle will be worthless. Then it will be blow for blow, hand to hand, and the strongest pates and arms will win. But no. I have just bethought me. |
| 10731 |
I have worked like a Trojan all day, and the idea is realized. Margaret helped me out with suggestions, and Tom Spink did the sailorizing. Over our head, from the jiggermast, the steel stays that carry the three jigger trysails descend high above the break of the poop and across the main deck to the mizzenmast. |
| 10732 |
Even to day the little of our gear that has to be left standing aroused their curiosity. Head after head showed over the edge of the for'ard house as they peeped and peered and tried to make out what we were up to. Why, I find myself almost looking forward to an attack in order to see the device work. |
| 10733 |
I was not trained in the handling of men, and Tom Spink knew it in his chuckle headed way. Also, in his chuckle headed way, he was dispirited by the loss of the mate. Fearing the mate, nevertheless he had depended on the mate to fetch him through with a whole skin, or at least alive. On me he has no dependence. |
| 10734 |
So he must have reasoned, and, so reasoning, become despairing and desperate. After Margaret had told me to be hard I watched Tom Spink with an eagle eye, and he must have sensed my attitude, for he carefully forebore from overstepping, while all the time he palpitated just on the edge of overstepping. |
| 10735 |
My fist went out like an arrow from a released bow, and Tom Spink staggered back, tripped against the corner of the tarpaulin covered sounding machine, and sprawled on the deck. He tried to make a fight of it, but I followed him up, giving him no chance to set himself or recover from the surprise of my first onslaught. |
| 10736 |
This means that they have begun to eat the tough and unsavoury creatures, although it does not mean, of course, that they have entirely exhausted their other stores. It was Margaret, her sailor's eye on the falling barometer and on the "making" stuff adrift in the sky, who called my attention to a coming blow. |
| 10737 |
Evidently the mutineers have been believing us guilty of the disappearance of the second mate, just as we have been believing them guilty of the disappearance of the first mate. The more I dwell upon it the more it seems the proposition of the Kilkenny cats, a case of mutual destruction on the part of the two mates. |
| 10738 |
And due east, less than a thousand miles away, lay the coast of South America and the port of Valparaiso. Strange to say, none of our mutineers objected to this, and after dark, as we tore along before a full sized gale, I sent my own men up on top the chart house to take the gaskets off the spanker. |
| 10739 |
The lower topsail, its sheets parted by the fall of the crojack yard, was tearing out of the bolt ropes and ribboning away to leeward and making such an uproar that they might well expect its yard to carry away. Since this wreckage of our beautiful gear was all new to me, I was quite prepared to see the thing happen. |
| 10740 |
This they attempted to furl. The carrying away of the crojack and the blowing away of the mizzen lower topsail gave me freedom to see and aim, and when the tiny messengers from my rifle began to spat through the canvas and to spat against the steel of the yard, the men strung along it desisted from passing the gaskets. |
| 10741 |
In the darkness we could hear the work aloft going on as yards were run down, sheets let go, and sails dewed up and gasketed. I did try a few random shots, and all my reward was to hear the whine and creak of ropes through sheaves and to receive an equally random fire of revolver shots. It is a most curious situation. |
| 10742 |
All that prevents this, we are decided, is laziness. For if they did sever the braces that lead aft into our hands, they would be compelled to rig new braces for'ard in some fashion, else, in the rolling, would the mizzenmast be stripped of every spar. And still the mutiny we are enduring is ridiculous and grotesque. |
| 10743 |
It violates all standards and precedents. In the old classic mutinies, long ere this, attacking like tigers, the seamen should have swarmed over the poop and killed most of us or been most of them killed. Wherefore I sneer at our gallant mutineers, and recommend trained nurses for them, quite in the manner of Mr. Pike. |
| 10744 |
As a perishing blond without an alphabet I should have done this unwaveringly. As a perishing blond with an alphabet, plus the contents in my brain of the philosophizing of all philosophers, I have killed this same man with the same unwaveringness. Culture has not emasculated me. I am quite unaffected. |
| 10745 |
It was in the day's work, and my kind have always been day workers, doing the day's work, whatever it might be, in high adventure or dull ploddingness, and always doing it. Never would I ask to set back the dial of time or event. I would kill Steve Roberts again, under the same circumstances, as a matter of course. |
| 10746 |
The mutiny is not violating standards and precedents. We have had our hands full for days and nights. Ditman Olansen, the crank eyed Berserker, has been killed by Wada, and the training ship boy, the one lone cadet of our breed, has gone overside with the regulation sack of coal at his feet. The poop has been rushed. |
| 10747 |
And now to the attempt to rush the poop. It was in Margaret's watch, from midnight till four in the morning, when the attack was made. Sleeping on the deck by the cabin skylight, I was very close to her when her revolver went off, and continued to go off. My first spring was to the tripping lines on my illuminators. |
| 10748 |
All the advantage lay with us, for we were in the dark, while our foes were outlined against the light behind them. But such light! The powder crackled, fizzed, and spluttered and spilled out the excess of gasolene from the flaming oakum balls so that streams of fire dripped down on the main deck beneath. |
| 10749 |
I have never found it in the books. In short, it is carelessness coupled with laziness, or vice versa. I had used two of my illuminators. Only one remained. An hour later, convinced of the movement aft of men along the deck, I let go the third and last and with its brightness sent them scurrying for'ard. |
| 10750 |
Whether they were attacking the poop tentatively to learn whether or not I had exhausted my illuminators, or whether or not they were trying to rescue Ditman Olansen, we shall never know. The point is: they did come aft; they were compelled to retreat by my illuminator; and it was my last illuminator. |
| 10751 |
I stood above them, at the rail, rifle in hand and ready. But from for'ard came no signs of life; and the lads, between them, rolled the crank eyed Norwegian over so that we could recognize him, carried him to the rail, and shoved him stiffly across and into the sea. Wada's spear thrust had gone clear through him. |
| 10752 |
But this effort was distracted and made futile by a popping of several revolver shots from the gangways amidships. One is jumpy when soft nosed bullets putt putt around him. As a result, the bomb rolled about on the open deck. Nevertheless, the illuminators had earned the respect of the mutineers for my fireworks. |
| 10753 |
But the fuse of the first bomb, rolling about on the main deck, merely fizzled on; and as I waited I resolved to shorten my remaining fuses. Any of the men who fled, had he had the courage, could have pinched off the fuse, or tossed the bomb overboard, or, better yet, he could have tossed it up amongst us on the poop. |
| 10754 |
The Elsinore, sailless, drifted about that morning, the sport of wind and wave; and the gang put many lines overboard for the catching of mollyhawks and albatrosses. Oh, I worried the hungry fishers with my rifle. No man could show himself for'ard without having a bullet whop against the iron work perilously near him. |
| 10755 |
When a bird was hooked they hauled in the line, still from shelter, till it was alongside. This was the ticklish moment. The hook, merely a hollow and acute angled triangle of sheet copper floating on a piece of board at the end of the line, held the bird by pinching its curved beak into the acute angle. |
| 10756 |
The moment the line slacked the bird was released. So, when alongside, this was the problem: to lift the bird out of the water, straight up the side of the ship, without once jamming and easing and slacking. When they tried to do this from shelter invariably they lost the bird. They worked out a method. |
| 10757 |
One cannot help jumping when death, in the form of a piece of flying lead, hits the rail beside him, or the mast over his head, or whines away in a ricochet from the steel shrouds. Nevertheless, I managed with my rifle to bother the exposed men on the rail to the extent that they lost one hooked bird out of two. |
| 10758 |
With hooks and sinkers on our own lines aft, we tossed out, grappled, captured, and broke off nine of their lines. But the next time, so slow is the movement of so large a ship, the mutineers hauled all their lines safely inboard ere they towed aft within striking distance of my grapnels. Still I improved. |
| 10759 |
Once before it, by means of a winged out spanker coupled with patient and careful steering, I could keep her before it. This I did, hour by hour one of my men relieving another at the wheel. As a result all fishing ceased. Margaret was holding the first dog watch, four to six. Henry was at the wheel steering. |
| 10760 |
Some obscure sound from the ventilator must have attracted me, for I was gazing at it when the thing happened. But first, the ventilator. This is a steel shaft that leads up from the coal carrying bowels of the ship beneath the lazarette and that wins to the outside world via the after wall of the chart house. |
| 10761 |
We in the high place command the food of the Elsinore, but the mutineers have captured her steering gear. That is to say, they have captured it without coming into possession of it. They cannot steer, neither can we. The poop, which is the high place, is ours. The wheel is on the poop, yet we cannot touch the wheel. |
| 10762 |
From that slitted opening in the ventilator shaft they are able to shoot down any man who approaches the wheel. And with that steel wall of the chart house as a shield they laugh at us as from a conning tower. I have a plan, but it is not worth while putting into execution unless its need becomes imperative. |
| 10763 |
And what are wits for, if not for use? I am breaking the men's hungry hearts. It is great fun in its way. The mollyhawks and albatrosses, after their fashion, have followed the Elsinore up out of their own latitudes. This means that there are only so many of them and that their numbers are not recruited. |
| 10764 |
I have acted on this bit of logic. I began experimentally by tossing small chunks of fat pork and crusts of stale bread overside. When the birds descended for the feast I shot them. Every carcass thus left floating on the surface of the sea was so much less meat for the mutineers. But I bettered the method. |
| 10765 |
The scheme was so simple that I was shamed in that it had not occurred to me at the very beginning. The slitted opening was small. Two sacks of flour, in a wooden frame, suspended by ropes from the edge of the chart house roof directly above, would effectually cover the opening and block all revolver fire. |
| 10766 |
And just then, around the corner of the house, stepped the steward. In his hand he carried a large galvanized pail, and my casual thought was that he had come to get rain water from the barrels. Even as I thought it, he made a sweeping half circle with the pail and sloshed its contents into the ventilator opening. |
| 10767 |
And, in the shock of pain, he must have released all holds and fallen upon the coal at the bottom of the shaft. His cries and shrieks of anguish were terrible, and I was reminded of the starving rats which had squealed up that same shaft during the first months of the voyage. The thing was sickening. |
| 10768 |
I prefer that men be killed cleanly and easily. The agony of the wretch I did not fully realize until the steward, his bare fore arms sprayed by the splash from the ventilator slats, suddenly felt the bite of the acid through his tight, whole skin and made a mad rush for the water barrel at the corner of the house. |
| 10769 |
It was two in the morning, and for an hour I had been puzzling my head with watching the smoke arise from the after division of the for'ard house and with wondering why the mutineers should have up steam in the donkey engine at such an ungodly hour. Not on the whole voyage had the donkey engine been used. |
| 10770 |
A lighted match, in the hands of Tom Spink, directed me. Between the booby hatch and the wheel, sitting up and rocking back and forth with wringings of hands and wavings of arms, tears of agony bursting from his eyes, was Buckwheat. My first thought was that in some stupid way he had got the acid into his own eyes. |
| 10771 |
The pain of the fumes was bad enough, but the real hardship was the dizziness I suffered. I blundered into the steward's pantry, and out of it, missed the cross hall, stumbled through the next starboard opening in the long hall, and found myself bent double by violent collision with the dining room table. |
| 10772 |
I fell upon it and found in my arms all the softness of Margaret. How describe that battle up the stairway? It was a crucifixion of struggle, an age long nightmare of agony. Time after time, as my consciousness blurred, the temptation was upon me to cease all effort and let myself blur down into the ultimate dark. |
| 10773 |
It was a matter of several feet to the doorway. I died a score of times in those several feet; but ever I endured the agony of resurrection and dragged Margaret with me. Sometimes the full strength I could exert did not move her, and I lay with her and coughed and strangled my way through to another resurrection. |
| 10774 |
The doors to starboard and to port were both open; and as the Elsinore rolled a draught through the chart house hall my lungs filled with pure, cool air. As I drew myself across the high threshold and pulled Margaret after me, from very far away I heard the cries of men and the reports of rifle and revolver. |
| 10775 |
We in the high place had been smoked out by our rascals like so many rats. It was Wada who had opened one of the doors. The old steward had opened the other. Together they had attempted the descent of the stairway and been driven back by the fumes. Then they had engaged in the struggle to repel the rush from for'ard. |
| 10776 |
But when one forsakes such intellectual flesh pots and becomes mere human and male human, in short, a lover, then all he may do, and which is what he cannot help doing, is to yield to the compulsions of being and throw both his arms around love and hold it closer to him than is his own heart close to him. |
| 10777 |
Of course, the man behind could not see through the screen of empty sacks, but he took a blind pot shot at point blank range when the steward went by, slip sloppily dragging the heels of his slippers. Fortunately it was a miss, but so close a miss was it that his cheek and neck were burned with powder grains. |
| 10778 |
And there in a row were our three pale haired storm waifs with the topaz eyes. In the light of a bull's eye, held on them by Louis, their eyes never seemed more like the eyes of great cats. And, heavens, they purred! At least, the inarticulate noises they made sounded more like purring than anything else. |
| 10779 |
That these sounds meant friendliness was very evident. Also, they held out their hands, palms upward, in unmistakable sign of peace. Each in turn doffed his cap and placed my hand for a moment on his head. Without doubt this meant their offer of fealty, their acceptance of me as master. I nodded my head. |
| 10780 |
And right here I register another complaint against the sea novelists. A score of men for'ard, desperate all, with desperate deeds behind them, and jail and the gallows facing them not many days away, should have only begun to fight. And yet this score of men did nothing while we destroyed their last chance for escape. |
| 10781 |
I stood here, fourth, no seaman, merely a master by the blood of my ancestors; and the work of the Elsinore in the world went on. Bert Rhine, his head and face swathed in bandages, stood there beneath me, and I felt for him a tingle of respect. He, too, in a subterranean, ghetto way was master over his rats. |
| 10782 |
Bombini responded. He drew his knife and started to advance upon the Jew. But a deep rumbling, animal like in its sound and menace, arose in the throats of those about the Jew. Bombini hesitated and glanced back across his shoulder at the leader, whose face he could not see for bandages and who he knew could not see. |
| 10783 |
Sadder still is it to begin love with lies. I had tried to hide this one happening from Margaret, and I had failed. It could no longer be hidden save by lying; and so I told her the truth, told her how and why the gangster had had his face dashed with sulphuric acid by the old steward who knew white men and their ways. |
| 10784 |
At once the air had seemed to freshen. O'Brien had been a clean living young man with ideals. He neither drank, smoked, nor swore, and his had been the body of a beautiful young god. He had even carried his prayer book to the ringside. They found it in his coat pocket in the dressing room... afterward. |
| 10785 |
There are big valleys there where the white man has never set foot, and Indian tribes as primitive as ten thousand years... almost, for they have had some contact with the whites. Parties of them come out once in a while to trade, and that is all. Even the Hudson Bay Company failed to find them and farm them. |
| 10786 |
It was on her invitation. She promised to fit me out with dogs and sleds and with Indians that would put me across the best pass of the Rockies in five hundred miles. Her fly was pitched apart from the others, on the high bank by the river, and a couple of Indian girls did her cooking for her and the camp work. |
| 10787 |
But little she saw of it. He started the restaurant, a little cheap one, and she quickly learned what he had married her for.... to save paying wages. She came pretty close to running the joint and doing all the work from waiting to dishwashing. She cooked most of the time as well. And she had four years of it. |
| 10788 |
The steady illumination of his qenius, dim only because distant, is like the faint but satisfying light of the stars compared with the dazzling but ineffectual and short lived blaze of candles. The Society Islanders had their day born gods, but they were not supposed to be of equal antiquity with the. |
| 10789 |
And for the first time in my life, it seemed to me, I went to bed happy that night, looking out under a corner of the canvas at the stars cut off black by a big shoulder of mountain, and listening to the night noises, and knowing that the same thing would go on next day and forever and ever, for I wasn't going back. |
| 10790 |
But that was not the most curious thing. Outside, along the edge of the trees, you can't guess what I found. The skeletons of eight horses, each tied to a tree. They had starved to death, I reckon, and left only little piles of bones scattered some here and there. And each horse had had a load on its back. |
| 10791 |
With its fore legs it pawed the sand of the arena till the dust rose all about it. Then it charged, with lowered head, straight for the lone capador. It is always of interest, the first charge of the first bull. After a time it is natural that one should grow tired, trifle, that the keenness should lose its edge. |
| 10792 |
They were little hands. The audience applauded. The bull turned and came back. Again the capadore eluded him, throwing the cape on his shoulders, and again the audience applauded. Three times did this happen. The capadore was very excellent. Then he retired, and the other capadore played with the bull. |
| 10793 |
Every one knew, before the bull entered the ring, that it was to die. To be a sporting proposition, the issue must be in doubt. It was one stupid bull who had never fought a man against five wise men who had fought many bulls. It would be possibly a little bit fair if it were one man against one bull. |
| 10794 |
Again he ran around the ring, with raised head, looking at the faces of the thousands that hissed him, that threw orange peel at him and called him names. But the smell of blood decided him, and he charged a capador, so without warning that the man just escaped. He dropped his cape and dodged into the shelter. |
| 10795 |
Four times he stood forth, and four times, at the first attempt, he stuck in the banderillos, so that eight of them, well placed, stood out of the back of the bull at one time. The crowd went mad, and a rain of hats and money fell on the sand of the ring. And just then the bull charged unexpectedly one of the capadors. |
| 10796 |
But the bull had changed again, and did not want to fight. Ordonez stamped his foot in the sand, and cried out, and waved the scarlet cloth. Then the bull charged, but without heart. There was no weight to the charge. It was a poor thrust. The sword struck a bone and bent. Ordonez took a fresh sword. |
| 10797 |
The bull, again stung to fight, charged once more. Five times Ordonez essayed the thrust, and each time the sword went but part way in or struck bone. The sixth time, the sword went in to the hilt. But it was a bad thrust. The sword missed the heart and stuck out half a yard through the ribs on the opposite side. |
| 10798 |
I glanced at John Harned. He sat silent, without movement; but I could see his teeth were set, and his hands were clenched tight on the railing of the box. All fight was now out of the bull, and, though it was no vital thrust, he trotted lamely what of the sword that stuck through him, in one side and out the other. |
| 10799 |
That was all. He said no more, but sat and watched, though sometimes he looked sideways at Maria Valenzuela to see how she took it. She was angry with the matador. He was awkward, and she had desired a clever exhibition. The bull was now very tired, and weak from loss of blood, though far from dying. |
| 10800 |
He would not charge. He had had enough. But he must be killed. There is a place, in the neck of a bull behind the horns, where the cord of the spine is unprotected and where a short stab will immediately kill. Ordonez stepped in front of the bull and lowered his scarlet cloth to the ground. The bull would not charge. |
| 10801 |
He stood still and smelled the cloth, lowering his head to do so. Ordonez stabbed between the horns at the spot in the neck. The bull jerked his head up. The stab had missed. Then the bull watched the sword. When Ordonez moved the cloth on the ground, the bull forgot the sword and lowered his head to smell the cloth. |
| 10802 |
It is degrading to those that look on. It teaches them to delight in animal suffering. It is cowardly for five men to fight one stupid bull. Therefore those that look on learn to be cowards. The bull dies, but those that look on live and the lesson is learned. The bravery of men is not nourished by scenes of cowardice. |
| 10803 |
And the horse stood still, and because it could not see it did not know that the capadors were trying to make the bull charge upon it. The capadors teased the bull their capes, and when it charged them they ran toward the horse and into their shelters. At last the bull was angry, and it saw the horse before it. |
| 10804 |
The bull was magnificently strong. The sight of its strength was splendid to see. It lifted the horse clear into the air; and as the horse fell to its side on on the ground the picador landed on his feet and escaped, while the capadors lured the bull away. The horse was emptied of its essential organs. |
| 10805 |
He never took his eyes from the horse, which, screaming, strove to run, but fell down instead and rolled on its back so that all its four legs were kicking in the air. Then the bull charged it and gored it again and again until it was dead. John Harned was now on his feet. His eyes were no longer cold like steel. |
| 10806 |
The dead lay around everywhere, while the wounded sobbed and groaned and some of them died. One man, whom John Harned had thrust through the belly with the bayonet, clutched at himself with both his hands and screamed. I tell you for a fact it was more terrible than the screaming of a thousand horses. |
| 10807 |
I am sorry for that. He was my friend, and much of my money was invested in his ventures. It was five weeks before the surgeons took the bandages from his face. And there is a scar there to this day, on the cheek, under the eye. Yet John Harned struck him but once and struck him only with his naked fist. |
| 10808 |
But the plummet of his hearing brought nothing to him save the moaning of wind through invisible trees and the rustling of leaves on swaying branches. A heavy fog drifted and drove before the wind, and though he could not see this fog, the wet of it blew upon his face, and the wall on which he sat was wet. |
| 10809 |
Dark as the way was, he was not anxious for light. Carrying the night stick in his hand, his finger on the button, he advanced through the darkness. The ground was velvety and springy to his feet, being carpeted with dead pine needles and leaves and mold which evidently had been undisturbed for years. |
| 10810 |
All about him he knew were these trees; he sensed the loom of them everywhere; and he experienced a strange feeling of microscopic smallness in the midst of great bulks leaning toward him to crush him. Beyond, he knew, was the house, and he expected to find some trail or winding path that would lead easily to it. |
| 10811 |
Slowly and carefully he moved it about him, the white brightness showing in sharp detail all the obstacles to his progress. He saw, an opening between huge trunked trees, and advanced through it, putting out the light and treading on dry footing as yet protected from the drip of the fog by the dense foliage overhead. |
| 10812 |
Carefully, first feeling about him in the darkness to know that the full swing of his arm was clear, he raised the chunk of wood and threw it. It was not a large piece, and it went far, landing noisily in a bush. He heard the thing bound into the bush, and at the same time himself crawled steadily away. |
| 10813 |
Looking about him, he noticed that the coyote had ceased its noise and was running away along the crest of the hill, and behind it, in full pursuit, no longer chanting, ran the naked creature he had encountered in the garden. It was a young coyote, and it was being overtaken when the chase passed from view. |
| 10814 |
The terror was no longer between him and Mill Valley. He sped at a breakneck rate down the hill, but in the turn at the bottom, in the deep shadows, he encountered a chuck hole and pitched headlong over the handle bar. "It's sure not my night," he muttered, as he examined the broken fork of the machine. |
| 10815 |
But this time Dave had no night stick to throw, and he was caught by the biceps of both arms in a grip so terrific that it made him groan with pain. He saw the large white teeth exposed, for all the world as a dog's about to bite. Mr. Ward's beard brushed his face as the teeth went in for the grip on his throat. |
| 10816 |
But which self was he, and which was the other, he could never tell. For he was both selves, and both selves all the time. Very rarely indeed did it happen that one self did not know what the other was doing. Another thing was that he had no visions nor memories of the past in which that early self had lived. |
| 10817 |
In his childhood he had been a problem to his father and mother, and to the family doctors, though never had they come within a thousand miles of hitting upon the clue to his erratic, conduct. Thus, they could not understand his excessive somnolence in the forenoon, nor his excessive activity at night. |
| 10818 |
Morning studies and schools were impossible, and it was discovered that only in the afternoons, under private teachers, could he be taught anything. Thus was his modern self educated and developed. But a problem, as a child, he ever remained. He was known as a little demon, of insensate cruelty and viciousness. |
| 10819 |
The family medicos privately adjudged him a mental monstrosity and degenerate. Such few boy companions as he had, hailed him as a wonder, though they were all afraid of him. He could outclimb, outswim, outrun, outdevil any of them; while none dared fight with him. He was too terribly strong, madly furious. |
| 10820 |
At college he was notorious for his sleepiness and stupidity during the morning lectures and for his brilliance in the afternoon. By collateral reading and by borrowing the notebook of his fellow students he managed to scrape through the detestable morning courses, while his afternoon courses were triumphs. |
| 10821 |
It was by this means that he located in time and space that strayed half of him who should have been dead and dust for thousands of years. He sang, once, and deliberately, several of the ancient chants in the presence of Professor Wertz, who gave courses in old Saxon and who was a philogist of repute and passion. |
| 10822 |
Whereupon, after pleadings and entreaties that extended through weeks, Professor Wert took a dislike to the young man, believed him a liar, and classified him as a man of monstrous selfishness for not giving him a glimpse of this wonderful screed that was older than the oldest any philologist had ever known or dreamed. |
| 10823 |
The afternoons and early evenings he gave to the one, the nights to the other; the forenoons and parts of the nights were devoted to sleep for the twain. But in the mornings he slept in bed like a civilized man. In the night time he slept like a wild animal, as he had slept Dave Slotter stepped on him in the woods. |
| 10824 |
But as the evening lengthened, the night called to him. There came a quickening of all his perceptions and a restlessness. His hearing was suddenly acute; the myriad night noises told him a luring and familiar story; and, if alone, he would begin to pace up and down the narrow room like any caged animal from the wild. |
| 10825 |
Thus it was that James Ward made a fresh and heroic effort to control the Teutonic barbarian that was half of him. So well did he make it a point to see Lilian in the afternoons, that the time came when she accepted him for better or worse, and when he prayed privily and fervently that it was not for worse. |
| 10826 |
Lilian, her mother and brother, and half a dozen mutual friends, were the guests. For two days and nights all went well. And on the third night, playing bridge till eleven o'clock, he had reason to be proud of himself. His restlessness fully hid, but as luck would have it, Lilian Gersdale was his opponent on his right. |
| 10827 |
The aroused household assembled on the wide veranda. Somebody turned on the electric lights, but they could see nothing but one another's frightened faces. Beyond the brightly illuminated driveway the trees formed a wall of impenetrable blackness. Yet somewhere in that blackness a terrible struggle was going on. |
| 10828 |
While most of Lilian Gersdale's fright was for the man beloved, there was a large portion of it due to the man himself. Never had she dreamed so formidable and magnificent a savage lurked under the starched shirt and conventional garb of her betrothed. And never had she had any conception of how a man battled. |
| 10829 |
Whereupon the dogs, taking advantage of the opening, would again spring in and draw the animal's wrath to them. The end came suddenly. Whirling, the grizzly caught a hound with a wide sweeping cuff that sent the brute, its ribs caved in and its back broken, hurtling twenty feet. Then the human brute went mad. |
| 10830 |
He staggered weakly toward her, dropped the club, and nearly fell. Something had gone wrong with him. Inside his brain was an intolerable agony. It seemed as if the soul of him were flying asunder. Following the excited gaze of the others, he glanced back and saw the carcass of the bear. The sight filled him with fear. |
| 10831 |
And so wholly is James J. Ward modern, that he knows in all its bitter fullness the curse of civilized fear. He is now afraid of the dark, and night in the forest is to him a thing of abysmal terror. His city house is of the spick and span order, and he evinces a great interest in burglarproof devices. |
| 10832 |
On this late afternoon he found that it had been submerged by a vast and vicious tenderloin. Chinese and Japanese shops and dens abounded, all confusedly intermingled with low white resorts and boozing dens. This quiet street of his youth had become the toughest quarter of the city. He looked at his watch. |
| 10833 |
It was the slack time of the day in such a region, as he well knew, yet he was curious to see. In all his score of years of wandering and studying social conditions over the world, he had carried with him the memory of his old town as a sweet and wholesome place. The metamorphosis he now beheld was startling. |
| 10834 |
No hair brained enthusiasm branded him. His humor saved him, as did his wide experience and his conservative philosophic temperament. Nor did he have any patience with lightning change reform theories. As he saw it, society would grow better only through the painfully slow and arduously painful processes of evolution. |
| 10835 |
Patsy, out of the depths of his grouch, decided that this stranger was one of those pests who marred and scarred the walls of his back rooms by tacking up or pasting up advertisements. The color on the front cover of the magazine convinced him that it was such an advertisement. Thus the trouble began. |
| 10836 |
His boxing, and his experience in the slums and ghettos of the world, had taught him restraint. He pivoted on his feet, and, instead of striking, ducked the other's swinging blow and went into a clinch. But Patsy, charging like a bull, had the momentum of his rush, while Watson, whirling to meet him, had no momentum. |
| 10837 |
He lay with his head touching the rear wall of the large room. The street was a hundred and fifty feet away, and he did some quick thinking. His first thought was to avoid trouble. He had no wish to get into the papers of this, his childhood town, where many of his relatives and family friends still lived. |
| 10838 |
He noticed the white, pasty faces, the kind that never see the sun, and knew that the men who barred his way were the nightprowlers and preying beasts of the city jungle. By them he was thrust back upon the pursuing, bull rushing Patsy. Again it was a clinch, in which, in momentary safety, Watson appealed to the gang. |
| 10839 |
Yet in him was righteous indignation. Under no circumstances could seven to one be fair. Also, he was angry, and there stirred in him the fighting beast that is in all men. But he remembered his wife and children, his unfinished book, the ten thousand rolling acres of the up country ranch he loved so well. |
| 10840 |
He even saw in flashing visions the blue of the sky, the golden sun pouring down on his flower spangled meadows, the lazy cattle knee deep in the brooks, and the flash of trout in the riffles. Life was good too good for him to risk it for a moment's sway of the beast. In short, Carter Watson was cool and scared. |
| 10841 |
After that, the latter, in the clinches, buried his face in Patsy's breast. But the enraged Patsy batted on, striking his own eye and nose and cheek on the top of the other's head. The more he was thus injured, the more and the harder did Patsy bat. This one sided contest continued for twelve or fifteen minutes. |
| 10842 |
Not only had he been wantonly assaulted, badly battered, and arrested, but the morning papers without exception came out with lurid accounts of his drunken brawl with the proprietor of the notorious Vendome. Not one accurate or truthful line was published. Patsy Horan and his satellites described the battle in detail. |
| 10843 |
Looking at him and studying him, Watson felt almost sure that his old friend's prognostication was wrong. But Watson was soon to learn. Patsy Horan and two of his satellites testified to a most colossal aggregation of perjuries. Watson could not have believed it possible without having experienced it. |
| 10844 |
But, as in all cases of complicated perjury, rifts and contradictions in the various stories appeared. The Judge somehow failed to notice them, while the Prosecuting Attorney and Patsy's attorney shied off from them gracefully. Watson had not bothered to get a lawyer for himself, and he was now glad that he had not. |
| 10845 |
The Prosecuting Attorney interposed, demanding to know which of the two cases lumped together was, and by what right Patsy's lawyer, at that stage of the proceedings, should take the witness. Patsy's attorney fought back. Judge Witberg interfered, professing no knowledge of any two cases being lumped together. |
| 10846 |
Here it was before him, a courtroom and a judge, bowed down in subservience by the machine to a dive keeper who swung a string of votes. Petty and sordid as it was, it was one face of the many faced machine that loomed colossally, in every city and state, in a thousand guises overshadowing the land. |
| 10847 |
Worse, a myriad times, he decided, were these bullying lawyers and this bullying judge then the bucko mates in first quality hell ships, who not only did their own bullying but protected themselves as well. These petty rapscallions, on the other hand, sought protection behind the majesty of the law. |
| 10848 |
And here he found a man, evidently on a stroll from the summer hotel down at the little town a mile away. They met face to face and the recognition was mutual. It was Judge Witberg. Also, it was a clear case of trespass, for Watson had trespass signs upon his boundaries, though he never enforced them. |
| 10849 |
No wonder those astute and ancient enemies of his had passed it by. The library door opened, and a slender, middle aged man, weak eyed and eye glassed, entered. In his hands was an envelope and an open letter. As Peter Winn's secretary it was his task to weed out, sort, and classify his employer's mail. |
| 10850 |
She caught herself with a quick beat of wings, fluttered about undecidedly for a space, then rose in the air. Again, high up, there seemed indecision; then, apparently getting her bearings, she headed east, over the oak trees that dotted the park like grounds. "Beautiful, beautiful," Peter Winn murmured. |
| 10851 |
Dont try to follow bird. She is wise to the way now and makes better time. If you dont come through, watch out. Peter Winn was genuinely angry. This time he indited no message for the pigeon to carry. Instead, he called in the detectives, and, under their advice, weighted the pigeon heavily with shot. |
| 10852 |
That night, armed guards patrolled the grounds. But there was no explosion. Yet, in the early morning Peter Winn learned by telephone that his sister's home in Alameda had been burned to the ground. Two days later the pigeon was back again, coming this time by freight in what had seemed a barrel of potatoes. |
| 10853 |
He started the engine, and with a wild burr of gas explosions the beautiful fabric darted down the launching ways and lifted into the air. Circling, as he rose, to the west, he wheeled about and jockeyed and maneuvered for the real start of the race. This start depended on the pigeon. Peter Winn held it. |
| 10854 |
Peter Winn released it, and it arose easily enough despite the slight drag of the ribbon. There was no uncertainty about its movements. This was the third time it had made particular homing passage, and it knew the course. At an altitude of several hundred feet it straightened out and went due east. |
| 10855 |
Then he saw something else. The aeroplane suddenly and instantly became smaller. It had reefed. Its high speed plane design was now revealed. Instead of the generous spread of surface with which it had taken the air, it was now a lean and hawklike monoplane balanced on long and exceedingly narrow wings. |
| 10856 |
Once was enough, for, evidently finding no life in the smooth cloth surface of the machine, it ceased soaring and straightened out on its eastward course. A carrier pigeon on a passage can achieve a high rate of speed, and Winn reefed again. And again, to his satisfaction, he found that he was beating the pigeon. |
| 10857 |
As the machine came back to an even keel, and he knew that he was now wholly in the invisible stream, he readjusted the wing tips, rapidly away from him during the several moments of his discomfiture. The pigeon drove straight on for the Alameda County shore, and it was near this shore that Winn had another experience. |
| 10858 |
But few instants were required, when, abruptly shifting the double horizontal rudders forward and astern, he shot upward on the tense and straining plane and out of the pit. At an altitude of five hundred feet, the pigeon drove on over the town of Berkeley and lifted its flight to the Contra Costa hills. |
| 10859 |
Two or more ranges of hills the pigeon crossed, and then Winn saw it dropping down to a landing where a small cabin stood in a hillside clearing. He blessed that clearing. Not only was it good for alighting, but, on account of the steepness of the slope, it was just the thing for rising again into the air. |
| 10860 |
Under Winn's instructions, covered all the time by the pistol, the man improvised a tourniquet and applied it to his wounded leg. Winn helped him to a seat in the machine, then went to the pigeon loft and took possession of the bird with the ribbon still fast to its leg. A very tractable prisoner, the man proved. |
| 10861 |
They were a royal pair of wanderlusters, he, big and broad shouldered, she a small, brunette, and happy woman, whose one hundred and fifteen pounds were all grit and endurance, and withal, pleasing to look upon. The Samoset had been a trading schooner, when Duncan bought her in San Francisco and made alterations. |
| 10862 |
On a pinch, Minnie herself could take a wheel, and it was on pinches that she proved herself more dependable at steering than did the native sailors. At eight bells, all hands assembled at the wheel, and Boyd Duncan appeared with a black bottle and a mug. The rum he served out himself, half a mug of it to each man. |
| 10863 |
They gulped the stuff down with many facial expressions of delight, followed by loud lip smackings of approval, though the liquor was raw enough and corrosive enough to burn their mucous membranes. All drank except Lee Goom, the abstemious cabin boy. This rite accomplished, they waited for the next, the present giving. |
| 10864 |
The electric fans had stopped, and the air was thick and stifling. Mentally cursing all Lorenzos and storage batteries, he heard his wife moving in the adjoining stateroom and pass out into the main cabin. Evidently heading for the fresher air on deck, he thought, and decided it was a good example to imitate. |
| 10865 |
From without came the creaking of the gaff jaw against the mast. The Samoset rolled and righted on a sea, and in the light breeze her canvas gave forth a hollow thrum. He was just putting his foot out on the damp deck when he heard his wife scream. It was a startled frightened scream that ended in a splash overside. |
| 10866 |
Midday came and went, and they floated on, the center of a narrow sea circle. A gentle breath of the dying trade wind fanned them, and they rose and fell monotonously on the smooth swells of a perfect summer sea. Once, a gunie spied them, and for half an hour circled about them with majestic sweeps. |
| 10867 |
And as he watched, so did he listen, though he rode on in silence, save for the boom of heavy guns from far to the west. This had been sounding monotonously in his ears for hours, and only its cessation could have aroused his notice. For he had business closer to hand. Across his saddle bow was balanced a carbine. |
| 10868 |
He grinned sheepishly, recovered himself, and rode on. So tense was he, so bent upon the work he had to do, that the sweat stung his eyes unwiped, and unheeded rolled down his nose and spattered his saddle pommel. The band of his cavalryman's hat was fresh stained with sweat. The roan horse under him was likewise wet. |
| 10869 |
Try as he would, nevertheless the descent was noisy, and frequently he stopped, panting in the dry heat and listening for any warning from beneath. At the bottom he came out on a flat, so densely forested that he could not make out its extent. Here the character of the woods changed, and he was able to remount. |
| 10870 |
He did not like the openness of it, yet his path lay across to the fringe of trees that marked the banks of the stream. It was a mere quarter of a mile across that open, but the thought of venturing out in it was repugnant. A rifle, a score of them, a thousand, might lurk in that fringe by the stream. |
| 10871 |
Tethering his horse in the edge of the wood, he continued a hundred yards on foot till he came to the stream. Twenty feet wide it was, without perceptible current, cool and inviting, and he was very thirsty. But he waited inside his screen of leafage, his eyes fixed on the screen on the opposite side. |
| 10872 |
To make the wait endurable, he sat down, his carbine resting on his knees. The minutes passed, and slowly his tenseness relaxed. At last he decided there was no danger; but just as he prepared to part the bushes and bend down to the water, a movement among the opposite bushes caught his eye. It might be a bird. |
| 10873 |
It was a face covered with several weeks' growth of ginger colored beard. The eyes were blue and wide apart, with laughter wrinkles in the comers that showed despite the tired and anxious expression of the whole face. All this he could see with microscopic clearness, for the distance was no more than twenty feet. |
| 10874 |
And all this he saw in such brief time, that he saw it as he lifted his carbine to his shoulder. He glanced along the sights, and knew that he was gazing upon a man who was as good as dead. It was impossible to miss at such point blank range. But he did not shoot. Slowly he lowered the carbine and watched. |
| 10875 |
A deserted farmhouse, large, with many outbuildings and an orchard, standing in a clearing. From the Woods, on a roan horse, carbine across pommel, rode the young man with the quick black eyes. He breathed with relief as he gained the house. That a fight had taken place here earlier in the season was evident. |
| 10876 |
The faces, shriveled and defaced, bore no likeness to the faces of men. The roan horse snorted beneath them, and the rider caressed and soothed it and tied it farther away. Entering the house, he found the interior a wreck. He trod on empty cartridges as he walked from room to room to reconnoiter from the windows. |
| 10877 |
Men had camped and slept everywhere, and on the floor of one room he came upon stains unmistakable where the wounded had been laid down. Again outside, he led the horse around behind the barn and invaded the orchard. A dozen trees were burdened with ripe apples. He filled his pockets, eating while he picked. |
| 10878 |
He pulled off his shirt, tying the sleeves and making a bag. This he proceeded to fill with apples. As he was about to mount his horse, the animal suddenly pricked up its ears. The man, too, listened, and heard, faintly, the thud of hoofs on soft earth. He crept to the corner of the barn and peered out. |
| 10879 |
They rode on to the house. Some dismounted, while others remained in the saddle as an earnest that their stay would be short. They seemed to be holding a council, for he could hear them talking excitedly in the detested tongue of the alien invader. The time passed, but they seemed unable to reach a decision. |
| 10880 |
A rifle cracked, and a second, but he was going fast, leaning forward, low in the saddle, one hand clutching the shirt of apples, the other guiding the horse. The top bar of the fence was four feet high, but he knew his roan and leaped it at full career to the accompaniment of several scattered shots. |
| 10881 |
A bullet went through his hat, but he was unaware, though he did know when another tore through the apples on the pommel. And he winced and ducked even lower when a third bullet, fired low, struck a stone between his horse's legs and ricochetted off through the air, buzzing and humming like some incredible insect. |
| 10882 |
The young man was elated. Through that astonishing fusillade he had come unscathed. He glanced back. Yes, they had emptied their magazines. He could see several reloading. Others were running back behind the house for their horses. As he looked, two already mounted, came back into view around the corner, riding hard. |
| 10883 |
And at the same moment, he saw the man with the unmistakable ginger beard kneel down on the ground, level his gun, and coolly take his time for the long shot. The young man threw his spurs into the horse, crouched very low, and swerved in his flight in order to distract the other's aim. And still the shot did not come. |
| 10884 |
No; that is not the word. She was amazing. She was a young woman, and a lady. Her father was a certain high official whose name, if I mentioned it, would be immediately recognized by all of you. She was with her mother and two maids at the time, going out to join the old gentleman wherever you like to wish in the East. |
| 10885 |
That she liked him, and that this feeling was growing, there was not a doubt. I am certain that she looked on him with kinder eyes than she had ever looked with on man before. We still worshiped, and were always hanging about waiting to be whistled up, though we knew that Dennitson was laps and laps ahead of us. |
| 10886 |
You know, jumping feet first from a height, it is very difficult to hold the body perpendicularly while in the air. The center of gravity of the male body is high, and the tendency is to overtopple. But the little beggars employed a method which she declared was new to her and which she desired to learn. |
| 10887 |
Some white man must have taught him, for he made the proper swan dive and did it as beautifully as I have ever seen it. You know, headfirst into the water, from a great height, the problem is to enter the water at the perfect angle. Miss the angle and it means at the least a twisted back and injury for life. |
| 10888 |
The boys made a dash of it for the gangway platform, swimming the fastest strokes they knew, pellmell, floundering and splashing, fright in their faces, clambering out with jumps and surges, any way to get out, lending one another a hand to safety, till all were strung along the gangway and peering down into the water. |
| 10889 |
It was unexpected to all of us. Out from the shade of the awning the coin flashed golden in the blaze of sunshine and fell toward the sea in a glittering arch. Before a hand could stay him, the boy was over the rail and curving beautifully downward after the coin. Both were in the air at the same time. |
| 10890 |
The atmosphere of night quietude had been disturbed. She wondered what servant could be prowling about. Not the butler, who was notorious for retiring early save on special occasion. Nor could it be her maid, whom she had permitted to go that evening. Passing on to the dining room, she found the door closed. |
| 10891 |
In his hand, pointed toward her, was a revolver. She noticed, even in the shock of seeing him, that the weapon was black and exceedingly long barreled. She knew black and exceedingly long it for what it was, a Colt's. He was a medium sized man, roughly clad, brown eyed, and swarthy with sunburn. He seemed very cool. |
| 10892 |
The man, despite his jaw and the steady brown eyes, was eminently tractable. Also, farther back in her consciousness glimmered the thought of an audience of admiring friends. It was too bad not to have that audience. "You haven't explained how burglary, in your case, is merely collecting what is your own," she said. |
| 10893 |
Anything will work full and legal when it's got few hundred million behind it. I'm not squealin', and I ain't taking a slam at your pa. He don't know me from Adam, and I reckon he don't know he done me outa anything. He's too big, thinking and dealing in millions, to ever hear of a small potato like me. |
| 10894 |
Here was something forbidding, terrible, inscrutable. There was something venomous and snakelike in the boy's black eyes. They burned like cold fire, as with a vast, concentrated bitterness. He flashed them from the faces of the conspirators to the typewriter which little Mrs. Sethby was industriously operating. |
| 10895 |
The indecision of doubt brooded in their eyes. This slender boy was the Unknown, vested with all the menace of the Unknown. He was unrecognizable, something quite beyond the ken of honest, ordinary revolutionists whose fiercest hatred for Diaz and his tyranny after all was only that of honest and ordinary patriots. |
| 10896 |
Three hundred letters, clicked out on the busy typewriters (appeals for assistance, for sanctions from the organized labor groups, requests for square news deals to the editors of newspapers, protests against the high handed treatment of revolutionists by the United States courts), lay unmailed, awaiting postage. |
| 10897 |
They do not love; they threaten; they are savage as a wild tiger's. I know, if I should prove unfaithful to the Cause, that he would kill me. He has no heart. He is pitiless as steel, keen and cold as frost. He is like moonshine in a winter night when a man freezes to death on some lonely mountain top. |
| 10898 |
Now he appeared with a cut lip, a blackened cheek, or a swollen ear. It was patent that he brawled, somewhere in that outside world where he ate and slept, gained money, and moved in ways unknown to them. As the time passed, he had come to set type for the little revolutionary sheet they published weekly. |
| 10899 |
And yet again, for irregular periods, he would disappear through the heart of each day, from early morning until late afternoon. At such times he came early and remained late. Arrellano had found him at midnight, setting type with fresh swollen knuckles, or mayhap it was his lip, new split, that still bled. |
| 10900 |
The custom house, the northern ports of entry, would be captured. Diaz could not resist. He dared not throw the weight of his armies against them, for he must hold the south. And through the south the flame would spread despite. The people would rise. The defenses of city after city would crumple up. |
| 10901 |
Jose Amarillo, their last hope, a recent convert, who had promised money, had been apprehended at his hacienda in Chihuahua and shot against his own stable wall. The news had just come through. Rivera, on his knees, scrubbing, looked up, with suspended brush, his bare arms flecked with soapy, dirty water. |
| 10902 |
Seemed to want the money, and he's won a bit, though his clothes don't look it. He's peculiar. Nobody knows his business. Nobody knows how he spends his time. Even when he's on the job, he plumb up and disappears most of each day soon as his work is done. Sometimes he just blows away for weeks at a time. |
| 10903 |
He was a good actor, and he had found geniality a most valuable asset in the game of getting on in the world. But down underneath he was the deliberate, cold blooded fighter and business man. The rest was a mask. Those who knew him or trafficked with him said that when it came to brass tacks he was Danny on the Spot. |
| 10904 |
The Mexican boy sat down in his corner and waited. The slow minutes lagged by. Danny was making him wait. It was an old trick, but ever it worked on the young, new fighters. They grew frightened, sitting thus and facing their own apprehensions and a callous, tobacco smoking audience. But for once the trick failed. |
| 10905 |
He hated it. Not until he had come in to the Junta, had he fought for money, and he had found the money easy. Not first among the sons of men had he been to find himself successful at a despised vocation. He did not analyze. He merely knew that he must win this fight. There could be no other outcome. |
| 10906 |
He saw the white walled, water power factories of Rio Blanco. He saw the six thousand workers, starved and wan, and the little children, seven and eight years of age, who toiled long shifts for ten cents a day. He saw the perambulating corpses, the ghastly death's heads of men who labored in the dye rooms. |
| 10907 |
And his father he saw, large, big moustached and deep chested, kindly above all men, who loved all men and whose heart was so large that there was love to overflowing still left for the mother and the little muchacho playing in the corner of the patio. In those days his name had not been Felipe Rivera. |
| 10908 |
But more visions burned before the eye of Rivera's memory. The strike, or, rather, the lockout, because the workers of Rio Blanco had helped their striking brothers of Puebla. The hunger, the expeditions in the hills for berries, the roots and herbs that all ate and that twisted and pained the stomachs of all of them. |
| 10909 |
And then, the nightmare; the waste of ground before the company's store; the thousands of starving workers; General Rosalio Martinez and the soldiers of Porfirio Diaz, and the death spitting rifles that seemed never to cease spitting, while the workers' wrongs were washed and washed again in their own blood. |
| 10910 |
Danny was crossing the ring to him. Danny bent over, caught Rivera's right hand in both his own and shook it with impulsive heartiness. Danny's smile wreathed face was close to his. The audience yelled its appreciation of Danny's display of sporting spirit. He was greeting his opponent with the fondness of a brother. |
| 10911 |
Nor could it guess the toughness of the fiber of the flesh, the instantaneousness of the cell explosions of the muscles, the fineness of the nerves that wired every part of him into a splendid fighting mechanism. All the audience saw was a brown skinned boy of eighteen with what seemed the body of a boy. |
| 10912 |
And he saw the long Mexican border arid and sun washed and aching, and along it he saw the ragged bands that delayed only for the guns. Back in his corner he waited, standing up. His seconds had crawled out through the ropes, taking the canvas stool with them. Diagonally across the squared ring, Danny faced him. |
| 10913 |
He was a gyroscope of blows, a whirlwind of destruction. Rivera was nowhere. He was overwhelmed, buried beneath avalanches of punches delivered from every angle and position by a past master in the art. He was overborne, swept back against the ropes, separated by the referee, and swept back against the ropes again. |
| 10914 |
Doubled partly over, with arms wrapped about face and abdomen, he cleverly stumbled into a clinch. By all the rules of the game the referee should have broken it, but he did not, and Danny clung on like a surf battered barnacle and moment by moment recuperated. The last minute of the round was going fast. |
| 10915 |
The second and third rounds were tame. Danny, a tricky and consummate ring general, stalled and blocked and held on, devoting himself to recovering from that dazing first round blow. In the fourth round he was himself again. Jarred and shaken, nevertheless his good condition had enabled him to regain his vigor. |
| 10916 |
Instead, he brought to bear his best fighting powers. In tricks and skill and experience he was the master, and though he could land nothing vital, he proceeded scientifically to chop and wear down his opponent. He landed three blows to Rivera's one, but they were punishing blows only, and not deadly. |
| 10917 |
He now devoted himself to infighting. In this he was particularly wicked, and it enabled him to avoid the other's straight left. Here he set the house wild repeatedly, capping it with a marvelous lockbreak and lift of an inside upper cut that raised the Mexican in the air and dropped him to the mat. |
| 10918 |
Danny did his best, but Rivera, at the count of eight, instead of nine, came unexpectedly through the ropes and safely into a clinch. Now the referee worked, tearing him away so that he could be hit, giving Danny every advantage that an unfair referee can give. But Rivera lived, and the daze cleared from his brain. |
| 10919 |
The audience began to grow incensed with Rivera. Why didn't he take the licking that was appointed him? Of course he was going to be licked, but why should he be so obstinate about it? Very few were interested in him, and they were the certain, definite percentage of a gambling crowd that plays long shots. |
| 10920 |
More than a trifle was up on the point of how many rounds Rivera could last. Wild money had appeared at the ringside proclaiming that he could not last seven rounds, or even six. The winners of this, now that their cash risk was happily settled, had joined in cheering on the favorite. Rivera refused to be licked. |
| 10921 |
In the ninth, Rivera stunned the house again. In the midst of a clinch he broke the lock with a quick, lithe movement, and in the narrow space between their bodies his right lifted from the waist. Danny went to the floor and took the safety of the count. The crowd was appalled. He was being bested at his own game. |
| 10922 |
The smile never left his face, but he went back to his man eating rushes. Whirlwind as he would, he could not damage Rivera, while Rivera through the blur and whirl, dropped him to the mat three times in succession. Danny did not recuperate so quickly now, and by the eleventh round he was in a serious way. |
| 10923 |
Every trick and device he employed, butting in the clinches with the seeming of accident, pinioning Rivera's glove between arm and body, heeling his glove on Rivera's mouth to clog his breathing. Often, in the clinches, through his cut and smiling lips he snarled insults unspeakable and vile in Rivera's ear. |
| 10924 |
As another and greater fighter had done before him, he might do a right and left, to solar plexus and across the jaw. He could do it, for he was noted for the strength of punch that remained in his arms as long as he could keep his feet. Rivera's seconds were not half caring for him in the intervals between rounds. |
| 10925 |
He side stepped away into safety. What the other wanted was a clinch. It was in some way necessary to the trick. Rivera backed and circled away, yet he knew, sooner or later, the clinch and the trick would come. Desperately he resolved to draw it. He made as if to effect the clinch with Danny's next rush. |
| 10926 |
In this he threw away half his chance of winning, but he knew if he was to win at all it was with the outfighting that remained to him. Given the least opportunity, they would lie a foul on him. Danny threw all caution to the winds. For two rounds he tore after and into the boy who dared not meet him at close quarters. |
| 10927 |
By temperament and blood he was the hottest passioned there; but he had gone through such vastly greater heats that this collective passion of ten thousand throats, rising surge on surge, was to his brain no more than the velvet cool of a summer twilight. Into the seventeenth round Danny carried his rally. |
| 10928 |
Kelly and others near to the ring began to cry out to the police to stop it, though Danny's corner refused to throw in the towel. Rivera saw the fat police captain starting awkwardly to climb through the ropes, and was not sure what it meant. There were so many ways of cheating in this game of the Gringos. |
| 10929 |
Still he strove to analyse the sound. Sonorous as thunder was it, mellow as a golden bell, thin and sweet as a thrummed taut cord of silver no; it was none of these, nor a blend of these. There were no words nor semblances in his vocabulary and experience with which to describe the totality of that sound. |
| 10930 |
It dwindled to a ghost of sound that had lost its menace and promise, and became a thing that pulsed on in the sick man's consciousness for minutes after it had ceased. When he could hear it no longer, Bassett glanced at his watch. An hour had elapsed ere that archangel's trump had subsided into tonal nothingness. |
| 10931 |
Was it months, or years, he asked himself, since he first heard that mysterious call on the beach at Ringmanu? To save himself he could not tell. The long sickness had been most long. In conscious count of time he knew of months, many of them; but he had no way of estimating the long intervals of delirium and stupor. |
| 10932 |
No fire hollowed tree trunk, that, throbbing war through the jungle depths, had been Bassett's conclusion. Erroneous had been his next conclusion, namely, that the source or cause could not be more distant than an hour's walk, and that he would easily be back by mid afternoon to be picked up by the Nari's whale boat. |
| 10933 |
Bassett shuddered. Without doubt Sagawa had been eaten as well by the "bad fella boys too much" that stopped along the bush. He could see him, as he had last seen him, stripped of the shot gun and all the naturalist's gear of his master, lying on the narrow trail where he had been decapitated barely the moment before. |
| 10934 |
Within a minute, looking back, Bassett had seen him trudging patiently along under his burdens. Then Bassett's own trouble had come upon him. He looked at the cruelly healed stumps of the first and second fingers of his left hand, then rubbed them softly into the indentation in the back of his skull. |
| 10935 |
With one barrel of his ten gauge shot gun he had blown the life out of the bushman who had so nearly got him; with the other barrel he had peppered the bushmen bending over Sagawa, and had the pleasure of knowing that the major portion of the charge had gone into the one who leaped away with Sagawa's head. |
| 10936 |
No bow strings twanged that he could hear; but every little while, whence discharged he knew not, tiny arrows whispered past him or struck tree boles and fluttered to the ground beside him. They were bone tipped and feather shafted, and the feathers, torn from the breasts of humming birds, iridesced like jewels. |
| 10937 |
Small wonder that he had accumulated such a virulence and variety of fevers, he thought, as he recalled that sleepless night of torment, when the throb of his wounds was as nothing compared with the myriad stings of the mosquitoes. There had been no escaping them, and he had not dared to light a fire. |
| 10938 |
All had fled but one. From close at hand and above him, a whimpering as of some animal in pain and terror had startled him. And looking up he had seen her a girl, or young woman rather, suspended by one arm in the cooking sun. Perhaps for days she had so hung. Her swollen, protruding tongue spoke as much. |
| 10939 |
It was at this place that a wantonness of savagery had seized upon him. Having feasted, ready to depart with a hind quarter of the pig in his hand, he deliberately fired the grass thatch of a house with his burning glass. But seared deepest of all in Bassett's brain, was the dank and noisome jungle. |
| 10940 |
He had crawled into it a dozen yards, buried his face in it, smelled it, and broken down in a fit of involuntary weeping. And, while he wept, the wonderful sound had pealed forth if by peal, he had often thought since, an adequate description could be given of the enunciation of so vast a sound melting sweet. |
| 10941 |
And yet it called to him across that leagues wide savannah, and was like a benediction to his long suffering, pain racked spirit. He remembered how he lay there in the grass, wet cheeked but no longer sobbing, listening to the sound and wondering that he had been able to hear it on the beach of Ringmanu. |
| 10942 |
It was for this purpose that Sagawa had carried the ten gauge shot gun. Two days and nights he had spent crawling across that belt of grass land. He had suffered much, but pursuit had ceased at the jungle edge. And he would have died of thirst had not a heavy thunderstorm revived him on the second day. |
| 10943 |
When he had eaten weakly for a space, he closed his eyes in order not to see her, although again and again she poked them open to peer at the blue of them. Then had come the sound. Nearer, much nearer, he knew it to be; and he knew equally well, despite the weary way he had come, that it was still many hours distant. |
| 10944 |
At that time he had not understood their language, if by language might be dignified the uncouth sounds they made to represent ideas. But Bassett had thoroughly understood the matter of debate, especially when the men pressed and prodded and felt of the flesh of him as if he were so much commodity in a butcher's stall. |
| 10945 |
What he feared was another relapse such as he had already frequently experienced. Without drugs, without even quinine, he had managed so far to live through a combination of the most pernicious and most malignant of malarial and black water fevers. But could he continue to endure? Such was his everlasting query. |
| 10946 |
According to that old devil devil doctor, the Red One had always been, just where he was at present, for ever singing and thundering his will over men. But Ngurn's father, wrapped in decaying grass matting and hanging even then over their heads among the smoky rafters of the devil devil house, had held otherwise. |
| 10947 |
Remained Balatta, who, from the time she found him and poked his blue eyes open to recrudescence of her grotesque female hideousness, had continued his adorer. Woman she was, and he had long known that the only way to win from her treason of her tribe was through the woman's heart of her. Bassett was a fastidious man. |
| 10948 |
But he nearly screamed when she succumbed to that caress so at the very first of the courtship and mowed and gibbered and squealed little, queer, pig like gurgly noises of delight. It was too much. And the next he did in the singular courtship was to take her down to the stream and give her a vigorous scrubbing. |
| 10949 |
This had been ordained at his birth. Vngngn was denied ever the touch of woman. Such pollution, did it chance to occur, could be purged only by the death of the offending female. It had happened once, since Bassett's arrival, when a girl of nine, running in play, stumbled and fell against the sacred chief. |
| 10950 |
In company with Balatta, sometimes with men and parties of women, the freedom of the jungle was his for three quadrants of the compass. But the fourth quadrant, which contained the Red One's abiding place, was taboo. He made more thorough love to Balatta also saw to it that she scrubbed herself more frequently. |
| 10951 |
In the jungle heart of Guadalcanal he put the affair to the test, as in the laboratory he would have put to the test any chemical reaction. He increased his feigned ardour for the bushwoman, at the same time increasing the imperiousness of his will of desire over her to be led to look upon the Red One face to face. |
| 10952 |
An abrupt mountain, shouldering in from the north to meet a similar intrusion from the south, tormented the stream in which they had fished into a deep and gloomy gorge. After a mile along the gorge, the way plunged sharply upward until they crossed a saddle of raw limestone which attracted his geologist's eye. |
| 10953 |
It was Mendana who had discovered the islands and named them Solomon's, believing that he had found that monarch's fabled mines. They had laughed at the old navigator's child like credulity; and yet here stood himself, Bassett, on the rim of an excavation for all the world like the diamond pits of South Africa. |
| 10954 |
A perfect sphere, full two hundred feet in diameter, the top of it was a hundred feet below the level of the rim. He likened the colour quality of it to lacquer. Indeed, he took it to be some sort of lacquer, applied by man, but a lacquer too marvellously clever to have been manufactured by the bush folk. |
| 10955 |
No lacquer that. Nor was the surface smooth as it should have been in the case of lacquer. On the contrary, it was corrugated and pitted, with here and there patches that showed signs of heat and fusing. Also, the substance of it was metal, though unlike any metal, or combination of metals, he had ever known. |
| 10956 |
Forgetful of safety, of his own life itself, entranced by the wonder of the unthinkable and unguessable thing, he raised his knife to strike heavily from a long stroke, but was prevented by Balatta. She upreared on her own knees in an agony of terror, clasping his knees and supplicating him to desist. |
| 10957 |
Part way around, he encountered horrors. Even, among the others, did he recognize the sun shrivelled remnant of the nine years girl who had accidentally broken Chief Vngngn's personality taboo. And, among what was left of these that had passed, he encountered what was left of one who had not yet passed. |
| 10958 |
Farther around, always treading the bones and images of humans and gods that constituted the floor of this ancient charnel house of sacrifice, he came upon the device by which the Red One was made to send his call singing thunderingly across the jungle belts and grass lands to the far beach of Ringmanu. |
| 10959 |
Always and forever must there have been stars. And surely, in that cosmic ferment, all must be comparatively alike, comparatively of the same substance, or substances, save for the freaks of the ferment. All must obey, or compose, the same laws that ran without infraction through the entire experience of man. |
| 10960 |
And, and most immediately and poignantly, were their far conclusions, their long won wisdoms, shut even then in the huge, metallic heart of the Red One, waiting for the first earth man to read? Of one thing he was certain: No drop of red dew shaken from the lion mane of some sun in torment, was the sounding sphere. |
| 10961 |
You have been much in the way of late. Not but what it was good for me to talk to such a wise one. But for moons of days we have held little talk. Instead, you have taken up room in the house of heads, making noises like a dying pig, or talking much and loudly in your own language which I do not understand. |
| 10962 |
And Bassett, raising his hand in signal, bending forward his head as agreed so as to expose cleanly the articulation to his taut spinal cord, forgot Balatta, who was merely a woman, a woman merely and only and undesired. He knew, without seeing, when the razor edged hatchet rose in the air behind him. |
| 10963 |
I was standing before an exhibit of facsimiles of the record nuggets which had been discovered in the goldfields of the Antipodes. Knobbed, misshapen and massive, it was as difficult to believe that they were not real gold as it was to believe the accompanying statistics of their weights and values. |
| 10964 |
I looked up, for he stood something like six feet four inches in height. His hair, a wispy, sandy yellow, seemed as dimmed and faded as his eyes. It may have been the sun which had washed out his colouring; at least his face bore the evidence of a prodigious and ardent sun burn which had long since faded to yellow. |
| 10965 |
She gazed straight before her at the Tower of Jewels with so austere an expression that no glint of refracted sunlight could soften it. We proceeded slowly to the lagoon, managed to obtain an unoccupied seat, and sat down with mutual sighs of relief as we released our weights from our tortured sightseeing feet. |
| 10966 |
But that was nothing, as I was to find out. Bubonic plague and small pox were raging, while dysentery and pneumonia were reducing the population, and the railroad was raging worst of all. I mean that. For them that insisted in riding on it, it was more dangerous than all the other diseases put together. |
| 10967 |
The road ran from sea level at Duran up to twelve thousand feet on Chimborazo and down to ten thousand at Quito on the other side the range. And it was so dangerous that the trains didn't run nights. The through passengers had to get off and sleep in the towns at night while the train waited for daylight. |
| 10968 |
Half a dozen American wives and as many children were crouching on the cab floors along with the rest of us when we pulled out; and the Ecuadoriano soldiers, who should have been protecting our lives and property, turned loose with their rifles and must have given us all of a thousand rounds before we got out of range. |
| 10969 |
It was some cleaning. Every flat car, box car, coach, asthmatic switch engine, and even hand car that mob of Spiggoties had shoved off the dock into sixty feet of water on top of the Governor Hancock. They'd burnt the round house, set fire to the coal bunkers, and made a scandal of the repair shops. |
| 10970 |
Above and below was sheer cliff, and the track stretched ahead a hundred yards clear and empty. And then I spotted her, crouched down right against the cowcatcher, that close I'd almost stepped on her. If we'd started up, we'd have run over her in a second. It was all so nonsensical, I never could make out her actions. |
| 10971 |
I let him rave, though afterwards I kept him throwing in the coal too fast to work his mouth very much. Why, say, when I got to the spot where I picked her up, and stopped the train for her to get off, she just flopped down on her knees, got a hammerlock with her arms around my knees, and cried all over my shoes. |
| 10972 |
Also, she called me more kinds of a fool than the English language has accommodation for. You'd like the Spanish lingo, Sarah, for expressing yourself in such ways, and you'd have liked old Paloma, too. She was a good woman, though she didn't have any teeth and her face could kill a strong man's appetite in the cradle. |
| 10973 |
She would look up, that anxious it hurt, whenever anybody called, like some of the boys to have a gas or a game of pedro. I tried to worm it out of Paloma what was worrying the girl, but all the old woman did was to look solemn and shake her head like all the devils in hell was liable to precipitate a visit on us. |
| 10974 |
Then, for a minute that seemed as long as a life time, she and the old fellow glared at each other. Paloma was the first to talk, in his own lingo, for he talked back to her. But great Moses, if he wasn't the high and mighty one! Paloma's old knees were shaking, and she cringed to him like a hound dog. |
| 10975 |
Grandfather Tarwater, after remaining properly subdued and crushed for a quiet decade, had broken out again. This time it was the Klondike fever. His first and one unvarying symptom of such attacks was song. One chant only he raised, though he remembered no more than the first stanza and but three lines of that. |
| 10976 |
The application of lawyers to John Tarwater was like the application of a mustard plaster. For, in his judgment, they were the gentry, more than any other, who had skinned him out of the broad Tarwater acres. So, at the time of his Patagonian fever, the very thought of so drastic a remedy was sufficient to cure him. |
| 10977 |
Even more remarkable than this was the paper wrapped parcel between his feet. It contained his one decent black suit, which Mary had been long reluctant to see him wear any more, not because it was shabby, but because, as he guessed what was at the back of her mind, it was decent enough to bury him in. |
| 10978 |
A dozen days later, carrying a half empty canvas sack of blankets and old clothes, he landed on the beach of Dyea in the thick of the great Klondike Rush. The beach was screaming bedlam. Ten thousand tons of outfit lay heaped and scattered, and twice ten thousand men struggled with it and clamoured about it. |
| 10979 |
Here the Dyea River became a rushing mountain torrent, plunging out of a dark canyon from the glaciers that fed it far above. And here, early next morning, he beheld a little man weighing no more than a hundred, staggering along a foot log under all of a hundred pounds of flour strapped on his back. |
| 10980 |
The mush was half cooked and mostly burnt, the bacon was charred carbon, and the coffee was unspeakable. Immediately the meal was wolfed down the three partners took their empty pack straps and headed down trail to where the remainder of their outfit lay at the last camp a mile away. And old Tarwater became busy. |
| 10981 |
With thousands of men, each back tripping half a ton of outfit, retracing every mile of the trail twenty times, all came to know him and to hail him as "Father Christmas." And, as he worked, ever he raised his chant with his age falsetto voice. None of the three men he had joined could complain about his work. |
| 10982 |
Last into the blankets at night, he was first out in the morning, so that the other three had hot coffee before their one before breakfast pack. And, between breakfast and dinner and between dinner and supper, he always managed to back trip for several packs himself. Sixty pounds was the limit of his burden, however. |
| 10983 |
He could manage seventy five, but he could not keep it up. Once, he tried ninety, but collapsed on the trail and was seriously shaky for a couple of days afterward. Work! On a trail where hard working men learned for the first time what work was, no man worked harder in proportion to his strength than Old Tarwater. |
| 10984 |
Here, on the trail leading into Happy Camp, in the first sunshine of half a dozen days, Old Tarwater rested his pack against a huge boulder and caught his breath. Around this boulder the trail passed, laden men toiling slowly forward and men with empty pack straps limping rapidly back for fresh loads. |
| 10985 |
Men broke their hearts and backs and wept beside the trail in sheer exhaustion. But winter never faltered. The fall gales blew, and amid bitter soaking rains and ever increasing snow flurries, Tarwater and the party to which he was attached piled the last of their outfit on the beach. There was no rest. |
| 10986 |
Thrice, on the night shift, underneath in the saw pit, Old Tarwater fainted. By day he cooked as well, and, in the betweenwhiles, helped Anson in the building of the boat beside the torrent as the green planks came down. The days grew shorter. The wind shifted into the north and blew unending gales. |
| 10987 |
A man who held out an ounce of grub was shot like a dog. A score had been so executed already. And, under a strain which had broken so many younger men, Old Tarwater began to break. His cough had become terrible, and had not his exhausted comrades slept like the dead, he would have kept them awake nights. |
| 10988 |
That the freeze up might come any day was patent, and delays of safety were no longer considered. For this reason, Liverpool decided to shoot the rapid stream connecting Linderman to Lake Bennett with the fully loaded boat. It was the custom to line the empty boats down and to portage the cargoes across. |
| 10989 |
Nor could they lay their boat at will against the bank, for the rim ice was already forming. Inside the mouth of the river, just ere it entered Lake Le Barge, they found a hundred storm bound boats of the argonauts. Out of the north, across the full sweep of the great lake, blew an unending snow gale. |
| 10990 |
As day broke clear and cold, they entered the river, with behind them a sea of ice. Liverpool examined his aged passenger and found him helpless and almost gone. When he rounded the boat to against the rim ice to build a fire and warm up Tarwater inside and out, Charles protested against such loss of time. |
| 10991 |
A heavy snow fall put a stop midway to his pursuit, losing the trail for him and losing himself. There were but several hours of daylight each day between the twenty hours of intervening darkness, and his efforts in the grey light and continually falling snow succeeded only in losing him more thoroughly. |
| 10992 |
Also, he was warmly clad and had a full matchbox. Further to mitigate his predicament, on the fifth day he killed a wounded moose that weighed over half a ton. Making his camp beside it on a spruce bottom, he was prepared to last out the winter, unless a searching party found him or his scurvy grew worse. |
| 10993 |
And here, in the unforgetable crypts of man's unwritten history, unthinkable and unrealizable, like passages of nightmare or impossible adventures of lunacy, he encountered the monsters created of man's first morality that ever since have vexed him into the spinning of fantasies to elude them or do battle with them. |
| 10994 |
All this, in the deeps of his unconsciousness (the shadowy western land of descending light), was the near dusk of Death down into which he slowly ebbed. But how to escape this monster of the dark that from within him slowly swallowed him? Too deep sunk was he to dream of escape or feel the prod of desire to escape. |
| 10995 |
Nor from within the darkened chamber of himself could reality recrudesce. His years were too heavy upon him, the debility of disease and the lethargy and torpor of the silence and the cold were too profound. Only from without could reality impact upon him and reawake within him an awareness of reality. |
| 10996 |
Therefore, in the east, were men whites or Indians he could not tell, but at any rate men who might stand by him in his need and help moor him to reality above the sea of dark. He moved slowly, but he moved in reality, girding himself with rifle, ammunition, matches, and a pack of twenty pounds of moose meat. |
| 10997 |
And, one day, when the thaw was in full swing, he crossed the stream and climbed to the bench. Exposed patches of ground had already thawed an inch deep. On one such patch he stopped, gathered a bunch of moss in his big gnarled hands, and ripped it out by the roots. The sun smouldered on dully glistening yellow. |
| 10998 |
Even an alki stiff would have reckoned himself immeasurably superior. For this man was that hybrid of tramp land, an alki stiff that has degenerated into a stew bum, with so little self respect that he will never "boil up," and with so little pride that he will eat out of a garbage can. He was truly horrible appearing. |
| 10999 |
A prodigious growth of whiskers, greyish dirty and untrimmed for years, sprouted from his face. This hirsute growth should have been white, but the season was summer and it had not been exposed to a rain shower for some time. What was visible of the face looked as if at some period it had stopped a hand grenade. |
| 11000 |
One eye, of normal size, dim brown and misty, bulged to the verge of popping out, and as if from senility wept copiously and continuously. The other eye, scarcely larger than a squirrel's and as uncannily bright, twisted up obliquely into the hairy scar of a bone crushed eyebrow. And he had but one arm. |
| 11001 |
This colourless fluid was druggist's alcohol, and as such is known in tramp land as "alki." Slow footsteps, coming down the side of the railroad embankment, alarmed him ere he could drink. Placing the can carefully upon the ground between his legs, he covered it with his hat and waited anxiously whatever impended. |
| 11002 |
Out of the darkness emerged a man as filthy ragged as he. The new comer, who might have been fifty, and might have been sixty, was grotesquely fat. He bulged everywhere. He was composed of bulges. His bulbous nose was the size and shape of a turnip. His eyelids bulged and his blue eyes bulged in competition with them. |
| 11003 |
His calves grew into his feet, for the broken elastic sides of his Congress gaiters were swelled full with the fat of him. One arm only he sported, from the shoulder of which was suspended a small and tattered bundle with the mud caked dry on the outer covering from the last place he had pitched his doss. |
| 11004 |
But the next comer proved to be not merely one of their own ilk, but likewise to have only one arm. So forbidding of aspect was he that greetings consisted of no more than grunts. Huge boned, tall, gaunt to cadaverousness, his face a dirty death's head, he was as repellent a nightmare of old age as ever Dore imagined. |
| 11005 |
His toothless, thin lipped mouth was a cruel and bitter slash under a great curved nose that almost met the chin and that was like a buzzard's beak. His one hand, lean and crooked, was a talon. The beady grey eyes, unblinking and unwavering, were bitter as death, as bleak as absolute zero and as merciless. |
| 11006 |
His presence was a chill, and Whiskers and Fatty instinctively drew together for protection against the unguessed threat of him. Watching his chance, privily, Whiskers snuggled a chunk of rock several pounds in weigh close to his hand if need for action should arise. Fatty duplicated the performance. |
| 11007 |
The other two nodded a descent from similar fathers, and elevated their tin cans of alcohol. By the time each had finished his own bottle and from his rags fished forth a second one, their brains were well mellowed and a glow, although they had not got around to telling their real names. But their English had improved. |
| 11008 |
Ah! Those swooning tropic nights, under our palm trees, the distant surf a langourous murmur as from some vast sea shell of mystery, when she, my Princess, all but melted to my yearning, and with her laughter, that was as silver strings by buds and blossoms smitten, all but made lunacy of my lover's ardency. |
| 11009 |
Mad I know I was mad for her. We would step over the side from the big canoe, and swim down, side by side, into the delicious depths of cool and colour, and she would look at me, as we swam, and with her eyes tantalize me to further madness. And at last, down, far down, I lost myself and reached for her. |
| 11010 |
My totality of thought was precipitated to consciousness in a single all embracing flash. The man eater must be deflected from her, and what was I, except a mad lover who would gladly fight and die, or more gladly fight and live, for his beloved? Remember, she was the woman wonderful, and I was aflame for her. |
| 11011 |
You know how a shark's teeth are. Once in they cannot be released. They must go through to complete the bite, but they cannot go through heavy bone. So, from just below the elbow he stripped the bone clean to the articulation of the wrist joint, where his teeth met and my good right hand became his for an appetizer. |
| 11012 |
The meat had maddened him. He pursued the gushing stump of my wrist. Half a dozen times I fended with my intact arm. Then he got the poor mangled arm again, closed down, and stripped the meat off the bone from the shoulder down to the elbow joint, where his teeth met and he was free of his second mouthful of me. |
| 11013 |
She was the woman wonderful. Unlike the Diana type of Polynesian, she was almost ethereal. She was ethereal, sublimated by purity, as shy and modest as a violet, as fragile slender as a lily, and her eyes, luminous and shrinking tender, were as asphodels on the sward of heaven. She was all flower, and fire, and dew. |
| 11014 |
I was a surprise to myself. It is an amazement, the amount of time a man finds on his hands after he's given up carousing, and gambling, and all the time eating diversions of the beach. And I didn't waste a second of all my new found time. Instead I worked it overtime. I did the work of half a dozen men. |
| 11015 |
Why, when she played her one two three, tum tum tum, I was in the seventh heaven of bliss. My weariness fell from me. I loved her, and my love for her was clean as flame, clean as my love for God. And do you know, into my fond lover's fancy continually intruded the thought that God in most ways must look like her. |
| 11016 |
On the fourth day, Ferguson, my engineer, had to shut down several hours in order to remedy his own troubles. I was bothered by the feeder. After having the niggers (who had been feeding the cane) pour cream of lime on the rollers to keep everything sweet, I sent them out to join the cane cutting squads. |
| 11017 |
One side crushed the cane well, but the other side was too open. I shoved my fingers in on that side. The big, toothed cogs on the rollers did not touch my fingers. And yet, suddenly, they did. With the grip of ten thousand devils, my finger tips were caught, drawn in, and pulped to well, just pulp. |
| 11018 |
And right now, speaking of armour plate lining, I could drink the both of you down when you were at your prime. Like you two, my beginnings were far distant and different. That I am marked with the hall mark of gentlehood there is no discussion... unless either of you care to discuss the matter now. |
| 11019 |
For reasons I shall not mention, by paths of descent I shall not describe, in the crown of my manhood and the prime of my devilishness in which Oxford renegades and racing younger sons had nothing on me, I found myself master and owner of a schooner so well known that she shall remain historically nameless. |
| 11020 |
Heads are valuable, especially a white man's head. They decorate the canoe houses and devil devil houses with them. Each village runs a jack pot, and everybody antes. Whoever brings in a white man's head takes the pot. If there aren't openers for a long time, the pot grows to tremendous proportions. |
| 11021 |
That was two hundred dollars right there. There were ninety eight fathoms of shell money, which is pretty close to five hundred in itself. And there were twenty two gold sovereigns. I split it four ways: one fourth to Johnny, one fourth to the ship, one fourth to me as owner, and one fourth to me as skipper. |
| 11022 |
The outside and the inside of the crater are too steep. At one place, inside, is a patch of about a thousand coconut palms. And that's all, as I said, saving a few insects. No four legged thing, even a rat, inhabits the place. And it's funny, most awful funny, with all those coconuts, not even a coconut crab. |
| 11023 |
I've never been able to look a confectioner's window in the face since. Now I'm not strong on religion like Chauncey Delarouse there, but I have some primitive ideas; and my concept of hell is an illimitable coconut plantation, stocked with cases of square face and populated by ship wrecked mariners. |
| 11024 |
But he didn't come back. We waited till the cool of sunset, and down on the beach found what had become of him. The boat was there all right, grounded by the prevailing breeze, but there was no Olaf. He would never have to eat coconut again. We went back, shakier than ever, and cracked another square face. |
| 11025 |
Therefore, when they spotted a school of mullet; and lighted the fuse, they had to hold the dynamite till the fuse burned short before they threw it. If they threw it too soon, it wouldn't go off the instant it hit the water, while the splash of it would frighten the mullet away. Funny stuff dynamite. |
| 11026 |
When I stood up, fire stick in one hand, dynamite stick in the other, my knees were knocking together. Maybe it was the gin, or the anxiousness, or the weakness and the hunger, and maybe it was the result of all of them, but at any rate I was all of a shake. Twice I failed to touch the fire stick to the dynamite. |
| 11027 |
Slim stared unblinkingly into the fire. Percival Delaney and Chauncey Delarouse looked at each other. Quietly, in solemn silence, each with his one arm aided the one arm of the other in rolling and tying his bundle. And in silence, bundles slung on shoulders, they went away out of the circle of firelight. |
| 11028 |
It is my conviction that he was so flabbergasted that he obeyed automatically, and it has been a matter of keen regret ever since, on my part, that I didn't ask him for a dollar. I know that I'd have got it. I swung off the platform of that private car with the porter manoeuvring to kick me in the face. |
| 11029 |
One was to catch the blind baggage on the westbound overland that night. The other was first to get something to eat. Even youth will hesitate at an all night ride, on an empty stomach, outside a train that is tearing the atmosphere through the snow sheds, tunnels, and eternal snows of heaven aspiring mountains. |
| 11030 |
They even held one sturdy little boy aloft so that he could see over the shoulders of his elders the tramp who wasn't going to get anything to eat at their house. It began to look as if I should be compelled to go to the very poor for my food. The very poor constitute the last sure recourse of the hungry tramp. |
| 11031 |
They never turn away the hungry. Time and again, all over the United States, have I been refused food by the big house on the hill; and always have I received food from the little shack down by the creek or marsh, with its broken windows stuffed with rags and its tired faced mother broken with labor. |
| 11032 |
Go to the poor and learn, for the poor alone are the charitable. They neither give nor withhold from their excess. They have no excess. They give, and they withhold never, from what they need for themselves, and very often from what they cruelly need for themselves. A bone to the dog is not charity. |
| 11033 |
I stood in the open door, and while he talked with me, he went on eating. He was prosperous, and out of his prosperity had been bred resentment against his less fortunate brothers. He cut short my request for something to eat, snapping out, "I don't believe you want to work." Now this was irrelevant. |
| 11034 |
I approached it in the deepening twilight, going around to the kitchen door. I knocked softly, and when I saw the kind face of the middle aged woman who answered, as by inspiration came to me the "story" I was to tell. For know that upon his ability to tell a good story depends the success of the beggar. |
| 11035 |
First of all, and on the instant, the beggar must "size up" his victim. After that, he must tell a story that will appeal to the peculiar personality and temperament of that particular victim. And right here arises the great difficulty: in the instant that he is sizing up the victim he must begin his story. |
| 11036 |
At the back door, out of inexorable necessity, is developed the convincingness and sincerity laid down by all authorities on the art of the short story. Also, I quite believe it was my tramp apprenticeship that made a realist out of me. Realism constitutes the only goods one can exchange at the kitchen door for grub. |
| 11037 |
Here was a man who understood and who would verify my true story to the faces of those sleuth hounds who did not understand, or, at least, such was what I endeavored to play act. I seized upon him; I volleyed him with questions about himself. Before my judges I would prove the character of my savior before he saved me. |
| 11038 |
My embarrassment was painful, extreme. I was ashamed. I, who looked upon begging as a delightful whimsicality, thumbed myself over into a true son of Mrs. Grundy, burdened with all her bourgeois morality. Only the harsh pangs of the belly need could compel me to do so degraded and ignoble a thing as beg for food. |
| 11039 |
I could have wept for myself. I know the tears did get into my voice at times. It was very effective. In fact, with every touch I added to the picture, that kind soul gave me something also. She made up a lunch for me to carry away. She put in many boiled eggs, pepper and salt, and other things, and a big apple. |
| 11040 |
She is quite real, too. When I tell about her, I can see her, and her two little girls, and her plumber husband. She is a large, motherly woman, just verging on beneficent stoutness the kind, you know, that always cooks nice things and that never gets angry. She is a brunette. Her husband is a quiet, easy going fellow. |
| 11041 |
It is true, as the Winnipeg policemen will attest, that I have grandparents living in England; but that was a long time ago and it is a fair assumption that they are dead by now. At any rate, they have never written to me. I hope that woman in Reno will read these lines and forgive me my gracelessness and unveracity. |
| 11042 |
I do not apologize, for I am unashamed. It was youth, delight in life, zest for experience, that brought me to her door. It did me good. It taught me the intrinsic kindliness of human nature. I hope it did her good. Anyway, she may get a good laugh out of it now that she learns the real inwardness of the situation. |
| 11043 |
Just as I was leaving, my arms full of lunch and my pockets bulging with fat woollen socks, she bethought herself of a nephew, or uncle, or relative of some sort, who was in the railway mail service, and who, moreover, would come through that night on the very train on which I was going to steal my ride. |
| 11044 |
And then I would have to beat my way back over all those hundreds of miles of desert. But luck was with me that night. Just about the time she was getting ready to put on her bonnet and accompany me, she discovered that she had made a mistake. Her mail clerk relative was not scheduled to come through that night. |
| 11045 |
When such a hobo, under such conditions, makes up his mind that he is going to hold her down, either he does hold her down, or chance trips him up. There is no legitimate way, short of murder, whereby the train crew can ditch him. That train crews have not stopped short of murder is a current belief in the tramp world. |
| 11046 |
The tramp, snugly ensconced inside the truck, with the four wheels and all the framework around him, has the "cinch" on the crew or so he thinks, until some day he rides the rods on a bad road. A bad road is usually one on which a short time previously one or several trainmen have been killed by tramps. |
| 11047 |
The coupling pin strikes the ties between the rails, rebounds against the bottom of the car, and again strikes the ties. The shack plays it back and forth, now to this side, now to the other, lets it out a bit and hauls it in a bit, giving his weapon opportunity for every variety of impact and rebound. |
| 11048 |
As one looks upon the face of his dead son, so looked I upon that multitudinous pastry. I suppose I was an ungrateful tramp, for I refused to partake of the bounteousness of the house that had had a party the night before. Evidently the guests hadn't liked cake either. That cake marked the crisis in my fortunes. |
| 11049 |
The house was large and comfortable, in the midst of spacious grounds and fine trees, and sat well back from the street. They had just finished eating, and I was taken right into the dining room in itself a most unusual happening, for the tramp who is lucky enough to win a set down usually receives it in the kitchen. |
| 11050 |
I may as well explain here what a blind baggage is. Some mail cars are built without doors in the ends; hence, such a car is "blind." The mail cars that possess end doors, have those doors always locked. Suppose, after the train has started, that a tramp gets on to the platform of one of these blind cars. |
| 11051 |
It is clear that the tramp is safe until the next time the train stops. Then he must get off, run ahead in the darkness, and when the train pulls by, jump on to the blind again. But there are ways and ways, as you shall see. When the train pulled out, those twenty tramps swarmed upon the three blinds. |
| 11052 |
I jumped off and ran forward along the track. I noticed that I was accompanied by a number of the tramps. They evidently knew their business. When one is beating an overland, he must always keep well ahead of the train at the stops. I ran ahead, and as I ran, one by one those that accompanied me dropped out. |
| 11053 |
Of course, the shack jumped off the first and on to the second as it went by, and scrambled around there, throwing off the men who had boarded it. But the point is that I was so far ahead that when the first blind came opposite me, the shack had already left it and was tangled up with the tramps on the second blind. |
| 11054 |
At the next stop, as we ran forward along the track, I counted but fifteen of us. Five had been ditched. The weeding out process had begun nobly, and it continued station by station. Now we were fourteen, now twelve, now eleven, now nine, now eight. It reminded me of the ten little niggers of the nursery rhyme. |
| 11055 |
I was holding her down in spite of two brakemen, a conductor, a fireman, and an engineer. And here are a few samples of the way I held her down. Out ahead, in the darkness, so far ahead that the shack riding out the blind must perforce get off before it reaches me, I get on. Very well. I am good for another station. |
| 11056 |
I try to watch on both sides at once, not forgetting to keep track of the tender in front of me. From any one, or all, of these three directions, I may be assailed. Ah, there it comes. The shack has ridden out the engine. My first warning is when his feet strike the steps of the right hand side of the blind. |
| 11057 |
Like a flash I am off the blind to the left and running ahead past the engine. I lose myself in the darkness. The situation is where it has been ever since the train left Ottawa. I am ahead, and the train must come past me if it is to proceed on its journey. I have as good a chance as ever for boarding her. |
| 11058 |
It must therefore be still on the engine, and it is a fair assumption that attached to the handle of that lantern is a shack. That shack was lazy, or else he would have put out his lantern instead of trying to shield it as he came forward. The train pulls out. The first blind is empty, and I gain it. |
| 11059 |
I alone have twice stopped the overland with its many passengers and coaches, its government mail, and its two thousand steam horses straining in the engine. And I weigh only one hundred and sixty pounds, and I haven't a five cent piece in my pocket! Again I see the lantern come forward to the engine. |
| 11060 |
Just in time, before I make my spring, I see the dark form of a shack, without a lantern, on the first blind. I let it go by, and prepare to board the second blind. But the shack on the first blind has jumped off and is at my heels. Also, I have a fleeting glimpse of the lantern of the shack who rode out the engine. |
| 11061 |
I have figured out my countermove. As I dash across the platform I hear the impact of the shack's feet against the steps as he boards. I jump off the other side and run forward with the train. My plan is to run forward and get on the first blind. It is nip and tuck, for the train is gathering speed. |
| 11062 |
I stand on the steps and watch my pursuer. He is only about ten feet back and running hard; but now the train has approximated his own speed, and, relative to me, he is standing still. I encourage him, hold out my hand to him; but he explodes in a mighty oath, gives up and makes the train several cars back. |
| 11063 |
The train is speeding along, and I am still chuckling to myself, when, without warning, a spray of water strikes me. The fireman is playing the hose on me from the engine. I step forward from the car platform to the rear of the tender, where I am sheltered under the overhang. The water flies harmlessly over my head. |
| 11064 |
I cannot again take the second blind, cross over, and run forward to the first. As soon as the first blind passes and I do not get on, they swing off, one on each side of the train. I board the second blind, and as I do so I know that a moment later, simultaneously, those two shacks will arrive on both sides of me. |
| 11065 |
Both ways are blocked. Yet there is another way out, and that way is up. So I do not wait for my pursuers to arrive. I climb upon the upright ironwork of the platform and stand upon the wheel of the hand brake. This has taken up the moment of grace and I hear the shacks strike the steps on either side. |
| 11066 |
I raise my arms overhead until my hands rest against the down curving ends of the roofs of the two cars. One hand, of course, is on the curved roof of one car, the other hand on the curved roof of the other car. By this time both shacks are coming up the steps. I know it, though I am too busy to see them. |
| 11067 |
A healthy shack can "dewdrop" a pretty heavy chunk of stone on top of a car say anywhere from five to twenty pounds. On the other hand, the chances are large that at the next stop the shacks will be waiting for me to descend at the place I climbed up. It is up to me to climb down at some other platform. |
| 11068 |
Just let him walk along the roof of a jolting, lurching car, with nothing to hold on to but the black and empty air, and when he comes to the down curving end of the roof, all wet and slippery with dew, let him accelerate his speed so as to step across to the next roof, down curving and wet and slippery. |
| 11069 |
Feeling with my hands in the darkness, I learn that there is room between the brake beam and the ground. It is a tight squeeze. I have to lie flat and worm my way through. Once inside the truck, I take my seat on the rod and wonder what the shacks are thinking has become of me. The train gets under way. |
| 11070 |
They see me and run for me, but I crawl on hands and knees across the rail on the opposite side and gain my feet. Then away I go for the head of the train. I run past the engine and hide in the sheltering darkness. It is the same old situation. I am ahead of the train, and the train must go past me. |
| 11071 |
I see a lantern on top of the train, moving along from front to rear. They think I haven't come down, and they are searching the roofs for me. And better than that on the ground on each side of the train, moving abreast with the lantern on top, are two other lanterns. It is a rabbit drive, and I am the rabbit. |
| 11072 |
Once past me, I am safe to proceed to the front of the train. She pulls out, and I make the front blind without opposition. But before she is fully under way and just as I am lighting my cigarette, I am aware that the fireman has climbed over the coal to the back of the tender and is looking down at me. |
| 11073 |
I have made friends with the engine, but the shacks are still looking for me. At the next stop, the shacks ride out all three blinds, and as before, I let them go by and deck in the middle of the train. The crew is on its mettle by now, and the train stops. The shacks are going to ditch me or know the reason why. |
| 11074 |
Three times the mighty overland stops for me at that station, and each time I elude the shacks and make the decks. But it is hopeless, for they have finally come to an understanding of the situation. I have taught them that they cannot guard the train from me. They must do something else. And they do it. |
| 11075 |
They are trying to run me down. At first they herd me back toward the rear of the train. I know my peril. Once to the rear of the train, it will pull out with me left behind. I double, and twist, and turn, dodge through my pursuers, and gain the front of the train. One shack still hangs on after me. |
| 11076 |
I run straight ahead along the track. It doesn't matter. If he chases me ten miles, he'll nevertheless have to catch the train, and I can board her at any speed that he can. So I run on, keeping just comfortably ahead of him and straining my eyes in the gloom for cattle guards and switches that may bring me to grief. |
| 11077 |
I strain my eyes too far ahead, and trip over something just under my feet, I know not what, some little thing, and go down to earth in a long, stumbling fall. The next moment I am on my feet, but the shack has me by the collar. I do not struggle. I am busy with breathing deeply and with sizing him up. |
| 11078 |
Besides, he is just as tired as I am, and if he tries to slug me, I'll teach him a few things. But he doesn't try to slug me, and that problem is settled. Instead, he starts to lead me back toward the train, and another possible problem arises. I see the lanterns of the conductor and the other shack. |
| 11079 |
All I have to do is to duck my head under his arm and begin to twist. I must twist rapidly very rapidly. I know how to do it; twisting in a violent, jerky way, ducking my head under his arm with each revolution. Before he knows it, those detaining fingers of his will be detained. He will be unable to withdraw them. |
| 11080 |
It is a powerful leverage. Twenty seconds after I have started revolving, the blood will be bursting out of his finger ends, the delicate tendons will be rupturing, and all the muscles and nerves will be mashing and crushing together in a shrieking mass. Try it sometime when somebody has you by the collar. |
| 11081 |
All that saves him is that it is not in their plan to man handle me. When we draw near enough, he calls out that he has me, and they signal the train to come on. The engine passes us, and the three blinds. After that, the conductor and the other shack swing aboard. But still my captor holds on to me. |
| 11082 |
He is going to hold me until the rear of the train goes by. Then he will hop on, and I shall be left behind ditched. But the train has pulled out fast, the engineer trying to make up for lost time. Also, it is a long train. It is going very lively, and I know the shack is measuring its speed with apprehension. |
| 11083 |
A number of coaches are yet to pass by. He knows it, and remains on the steps, his head poked out and watching me. In that moment my next move comes to me. I'll make the last platform. I know she's going fast and faster, but I'll only get a roll in the dirt if I fail, and the optimism of youth is mine. |
| 11084 |
In conclusion, I want to tell of what happened when I reached the end of the division. On single track, transcontinental lines, the freight trains wait at the divisions and follow out after the passenger trains. When the division was reached, I left my train, and looked for the freight that would pull out behind it. |
| 11085 |
When he got out of sight I thought to myself that he would never think I'd have the nerve to climb back into the very car out of which he had fired me. So back I climbed and lay down again. Now that con's mental processes must have been paralleling, mine, for he reasoned that it was the very thing I would do. |
| 11086 |
He couldn't see me. He called to me to get out. I tried to fool him by remaining quiet. But when he began tossing chunks of coal into the hole on top of me, I gave up and for the third time was fired out. Also, he informed me in warm terms of what would happen to me if he caught me in there again. I changed my tactics. |
| 11087 |
He never looked for me again, and I rode that coal car precisely one thousand and twenty two miles, sleeping most of the time and getting out at divisions (where the freights always stop for an hour or so) to beg my food. And at the end of the thousand and twenty two miles I lost that car through a happy incident. |
| 11088 |
I mastered the egg cup, and I mastered the eggs in a way that made those two maiden ladies sit up. Why, they ate like a couple of canaries, dabbling with the one egg each they took, and nibbling at tiny wafers of toast. Life was low in their bodies; their blood ran thin; and they had slept warm all night. |
| 11089 |
I went outside to give it to him. Now it happened that a visitor had ridden over from a neighboring ranch, and with him had come a Newfoundland dog as big as a calf. I set the plate on the ground. Punch wagged his tail and began. He had before him a blissful half hour at least. There was a sudden rush. |
| 11090 |
Punch was brushed aside like a straw in the path of a cyclone, and that Newfoundland swooped down upon the plate. In spite of his huge maw he must have been trained to quick lunches, for, in the fleeting instant before he received the kick in the ribs I aimed at him, he completely engulfed the contents of the plate. |
| 11091 |
The servant brought more, but I kept her busy, and ever she brought more and more. The coffee was delicious, but it needn't have been served in such tiny cups. What time had I to eat when it took all my time to prepare the many cups of coffee for drinking? At any rate, it gave my tongue time to wag. |
| 11092 |
And right well I scratched their soft palms with the callous on my own palms the half inch horn that comes of pull and haul of rope and long and arduous hours of caressing shovel handles. This I did, not merely in the braggadocio of youth, but to prove, by toil performed, the claim I had upon their charity. |
| 11093 |
My coming to sit at their table was their adventure, and adventure is beyond price anyway. Coming along the street, after parting from the maiden ladies, I gathered in a newspaper from the doorway of some late riser, and in a grassy park lay down to get in touch with the last twenty four hours of the world. |
| 11094 |
This duty performed, I started to walk across the bridge over the Susquehanna to the west shore. I forget the name of the railroad that ran down that side, but while lying in the grass in the morning the idea had come to me to go to Baltimore; so to Baltimore I was going on that railroad, whatever its name was. |
| 11095 |
How to catch a freight without walking to a station was the problem. I noticed that the track came up a steep grade, culminating at the point where I had tapped it, and I knew that a heavy freight couldn't pull up there any too lively. But how lively? On the opposite side of the track rose a high bank. |
| 11096 |
On the edge, at the top, I saw a man's head sticking up from the grass. Perhaps he knew how fast the freights took the grade, and when the next one went south. I called out my questions to him, and he motioned to me to come up. I obeyed, and when I reached the top, I found four other men lying in the grass with him. |
| 11097 |
I took in the scene and knew them for what they were American gypsies. In the open space that extended back among the trees from the edge of the bank were several nondescript wagons. Ragged, half naked children swarmed over the camp, though I noticed that they took care not to come near and bother the men folk. |
| 11098 |
She did not look happy. She looked as if she did not care for anything in this I was wrong, for later I was to learn that there was something for which she did care. The full measure of human suffering was in her face, and, in addition, there was the tragic expression of incapacity for further suffering. |
| 11099 |
It was a glorious day. Not a breath of wind was stirring, and we basked in the shimmering warmth of the sun. From everywhere arose the drowsy hum of insects, and the balmy air was filled with scents of the sweet earth and the green growing things. We were too lazy to do more than mumble on in intermittent conversation. |
| 11100 |
He wanted to come back. His intelligence and past experience told him that to come back was a lesser evil than to run on; but lesser evil that it was, it was great enough to put wings to his fear and urge his feet to flight. Still he lagged and struggled until he reached the shelter of the trees, where he halted. |
| 11101 |
His face was stamped with quivering resolution. He did not falter. He had made up his mind to take his punishment. And mark you, the punishment was not for the original offence, but for the offence of running away. And in this, that tribal chieftain but behaved as behaves the exalted society in which he lived. |
| 11102 |
We punish our criminals, and when they escape and run away, we bring them back and add to their punishment. Straight up to the chief the boy came, halting at the proper distance for the swing of the lash. The whip hissed through the air, and I caught myself with a start of surprise at the weight of the blow. |
| 11103 |
It was not until the fourth landed that the boy screamed. Also, he could no longer stand still, and from then on, blow after blow, he danced up and down in his anguish, screaming; but he did not attempt to run away. If his involuntary dancing took him beyond the reach of the whip, he danced back into range again. |
| 11104 |
And when it was all over a dozen blows he went away, whimpering and squealing, among the wagons. The chief stood still and waited. The second boy came out from the trees. But he did not come straight. He came like a cringing dog, obsessed by little panics that made him turn and dart away for half a dozen steps. |
| 11105 |
But always he turned and came back, circling nearer and nearer to the man, whimpering, making inarticulate animal noises in his throat. I saw that he never looked at the man. His eyes always were fixed upon the whip, and in his eyes was a terror that made me sick the frantic terror of an inconceivably maltreated child. |
| 11106 |
Her skirts were long, so he did not try for her legs. He drove the lash for her face, which she shielded as best she could with her hands and forearms, drooping her head forward between her lean shoulders, and on the lean shoulders and arms receiving the blows. Heroic mother! She knew just what she was doing. |
| 11107 |
Here, in the windless day, under a beneficent sun, was a sister of theirs being beaten by a brother of mine. Here was a page of life they could never see and better so, though for lack of seeing they would never be able to understand their sisterhood, nor themselves, nor know the clay of which they were made. |
| 11108 |
The whipping was finished, and the woman, no longer screaming, went back to her seat in the wagon. Nor did the other women come to her just then. They were afraid. But they came afterward, when a decent interval had elapsed. The man put the whip away and rejoined us, flinging himself down on the other side of me. |
| 11109 |
He was breathing hard from his exertions. He wiped the sweat from his eyes on his coat sleeve, and looked challengingly at me. I returned his look carelessly; what he had done was no concern of mine. I did not go away abruptly. I lay there half an hour longer, which, under the circumstances, was tact and etiquette. |
| 11110 |
It was a page out of life, that's all; and there are many pages worse, far worse, that I have seen. I have sometimes held forth (facetiously, so my listeners believed) that the chief distinguishing trait between man and the other animals is that man is the only animal that maltreats the females of his kind. |
| 11111 |
Worse pages of life than what I have described? Read the reports on child labor in the United States, east, west, north, and south, it doesn't matter where, and know that all of us, profit mongers that we are, are typesetters and printers of worse pages of life than that mere page of wife beating on the Susquehanna. |
| 11112 |
For that matter, my clothes had been likewise striped, for I had been doing my bit of time, too. The game proceeded, and I learned the stake for which we played. Down the bank toward the river descended a steep and narrow path that led to a spring some twenty five feet beneath. We played on the edge of the bank. |
| 11113 |
Four round trips he had to make for me alone, and the others were equally lavish with their thirst. The path was very steep, and sometimes the coon slipped when part way up, spilled the water, and had to go back for more. But he didn't get angry. He laughed as heartily as any of us; that was why he slipped so often. |
| 11114 |
Forgotten was the beaten woman of the hour before. That was a page read and turned over; I was busy now with this new page, and when the engine whistled on the grade, this page would be finished and another begun; and so the book of life goes on, page after page and pages without end when one is young. |
| 11115 |
He drank more water than all the rest of us put together. The twilight deepened into night, the stars came out, and he still drank on. I do believe that if the whistle of the freight hadn't sounded, he'd be there yet, swilling water and revenge while the melancholy hobo toiled down and up. But the whistle sounded. |
| 11116 |
The engine passed us, and we were all running with the train, some boarding on the side ladders, others "springing" the side doors of empty box cars and climbing in. I caught a flat car loaded with mixed lumber and crawled away into a comfortable nook. I lay on my back with a newspaper under my head for a pillow. |
| 11117 |
A flat car, by the way, is known amongst the fraternity as a "gondola," with the second syllable emphasized and pronounced long. But to return. I arrived in the afternoon and headed straight from the freight train to the falls. Once my eyes were filled with that wonder vision of down rushing water, I was lost. |
| 11118 |
Hoboes, I decided, like myself, who had got up early. In this surmise I was not quite correct. I was only sixty six and two thirds per cent correct. The men on each side were hoboes all right, but the man in the middle wasn't. I directed my steps to the edge of the sidewalk in order to let the trio go by. |
| 11119 |
I was a worm. Had I been richer by the experiences that were to befall me in the next several months, I should have turned and run like the very devil. He might have shot at me, but he'd have had to hit me to get me. He'd have never run after me, for two hoboes in the hand are worth more than one on the get away. |
| 11120 |
And now I shall faithfully describe what took place in that court room, for know that my patriotic American citizenship there received a shock from which it has never fully recovered. In the court room were the sixteen prisoners, the judge, and two bailiffs. The judge seemed to act as his own clerk. |
| 11121 |
Most likely, considering how early it was in the morning, his Honor had not yet had his breakfast and was in a hurry. But my American blood was up. Behind me were the many generations of my American ancestry. One of the kinds of liberty those ancestors of mine had fought and died for was the right of trial by jury. |
| 11122 |
And the next moment that next hobo had received thirty days and the succeeding hobo was just in process of getting his. When we had all been disposed of, thirty days to each stiff, his Honor, just as he was about to dismiss us, suddenly turned to the teamster from Lockport the one man he had allowed to talk. |
| 11123 |
I knew something about the law and my own rights, and I'd expose their maladministration of justice. Visions of damage suits and sensational newspaper headlines were dancing before my eyes when the jailers came in and began hustling us out into the main office. A policeman snapped a handcuff on my right wrist. |
| 11124 |
Also, he was the happiest and the raggedest negro I have ever seen. We were all handcuffed similarly, in pairs. This accomplished, a bright nickel steel chain was brought forth, run down through the links of all the handcuffs, and locked at front and rear of the double line. We were now a chain gang. |
| 11125 |
There was plenty of slack in the chain, and with much rattling and clanking we sat down, two and two, in the seats of the smoking car. Afire with indignation as I was at the outrage that had been perpetrated on me and my forefathers, I was nevertheless too prosaically practical to lose my head over it. |
| 11126 |
Thirty days of mystery were before me, and I looked about me to find somebody who knew the ropes. For I had already learned that I was not bound for a petty jail with a hundred or so prisoners in it, but for a full grown penitentiary with a couple of thousand prisoners in it, doing anywhere from ten days to ten years. |
| 11127 |
But whatever the name of the place, we were walked a short distance and then put on a street car. It was an old fashioned car, with a seat, running the full length, on each side. All the passengers who sat on one side were asked to move over to the other side, and we, with a great clanking of chain, took their places. |
| 11128 |
They were determined to smuggle them in somehow, trusting to luck; but they were not so wise as my pal, for they did not wrap their things in bundles. Our erstwhile guardians gathered up the handcuffs and chain and departed for Niagara Falls, while we, under new guardians, were led away into the prison. |
| 11129 |
A "hall" is not a corridor. Imagine an oblong cube, built out of bricks and rising six stories high, each story a row of cells, say fifty cells in a row in short, imagine a cube of colossal honeycomb. Place this cube on the ground and enclose it in a building with a roof overhead and walls all around. |
| 11130 |
One such convict I noticed above us on the gallery of the third tier of cells. He was standing on the gallery and leaning forward, his arms resting on the railing, himself apparently oblivious of our presence. He seemed staring into vacancy. My pal made a slight hissing noise. The convict glanced down. |
| 11131 |
My pal had told me to follow his lead. I watched my chance when the guard's back was turned, and my bundle followed the other one into the shirt of the convict. A minute later the door was unlocked, and we filed into the barber shop. Here were more men in convict stripes. They were the prison barbers. |
| 11132 |
How could naked men smuggle anything past an inspection? Only my pal and I were safe. But it was right here that the convict barbers got in their work. They passed among the poor newcomers, kindly volunteering to take charge of their precious little belongings, and promising to return them later in the day. |
| 11133 |
Those barbers were philanthropists to hear them talk. As in the case of Fra Lippo Lippi, never was there such prompt disemburdening. Matches, tobacco, rice paper, pipes, knives, money, everything, flowed into the capacious shirts of the barbers. They fairly bulged with the spoil, and the guards made believe not to see. |
| 11134 |
To cut the story short, nothing was ever returned. The barbers never had any intention of returning what they had taken. They considered it legitimately theirs. It was the barber shop graft. There were many grafts in that prison, as I was to learn; and I, too, was destined to become a grafter thanks to my new pal. |
| 11135 |
Beards, mustaches, like our clothes and everything, came off. Take my word for it, we were a villainous looking gang when they got through with us. I had not realized before how really altogether bad we were. Then came the line up, forty or fifty of us, naked as Kipling's heroes who stormed Lungtungpen. |
| 11136 |
In single file, close together, each man's hands on the shoulders of the man in front, we marched on into another large hall. Here we were ranged up against the wall in a long line and ordered to strip our left arms. A youth, a medical student who was getting in his practice on cattle such as we, came down the line. |
| 11137 |
They could have sucked. In my cell was another man. We were to be cell mates. He was a young, manly fellow, not talkative, but very capable, indeed as splendid a fellow as one could meet with in a day's ride, and this in spite of the fact that he had just recently finished a two year term in some Ohio penitentiary. |
| 11138 |
Ten of them had charge each of a gallery of cells, and over them were the First, Second, and Third Hall men. We newcomers were to stay in our cells for the rest of the day, my pal informed me, so that the vaccine would have a chance to take. Then next morning we would be put to hard labor in the prison yard. |
| 11139 |
The cylinder of tight rolled cotton cloth did not flame. On the end a coal of fire slowly smouldered. It would last for hours, and my cell mate called it a "punk." And when it burned short, all that was necessary was to make a new punk, put the end of it against the old, blow on them, and so transfer the glowing coal. |
| 11140 |
But we had reasons. My cell mate had discovered that our cell was alive with bed bugs. In all the cracks and interstices between the bricks where the mortar had fallen out flourished great colonies. The natives even ventured out in the broad daylight and swarmed over the walls and ceiling by hundreds. |
| 11141 |
And when the last survivors fled to their brick and mortar fastnesses, our work was only half done. We chewed mouthfuls of our bread until it was reduced to the consistency of putty. When a fleeing belligerent escaped into a crevice between the bricks, we promptly walled him in with a daub of the chewed bread. |
| 11142 |
I shudder to think of the tragedies of starvation and cannibalism that must have ensued behind those bread plastered ramparts. We threw ourselves on our bunks, tired out and hungry, to wait for supper. It was a good day's work well done. In the weeks to come we at least should not suffer from the hosts of vermin. |
| 11143 |
The guard laughed at me. So did the other guards. I really was incommunicado so far as the outside world was concerned. I tried to write a letter out, but I learned that all letters were read, and censured or confiscated, by the prison authorities, and that "short timers" were not allowed to write letters anyway. |
| 11144 |
I saw with my own eyes, there in that prison, things unbelievable and monstrous. And the more convinced I became, the profounder grew the respect in me for the sleuth hounds of the law and for the whole institution of criminal justice. My indignation ebbed away, and into my being rushed the tides of fear. |
| 11145 |
No man could work hard on such food. Bread and water, that was all that was given us. Once a week we were supposed to get meat; but this meat did not always go around, and since all nutriment had first been boiled out of it in the making of soup, it didn't matter whether one got a taste of it once a week or not. |
| 11146 |
Furthermore, there was one vital defect in the bread and water diet. While we got plenty of water, we did not get enough of the bread. A ration of bread was about the size of one's two fists, and three rations a day were given to each prisoner. There was one good thing, I must say, about the water it was hot. |
| 11147 |
The reason for this was that they would have died after a time on the fare we "short timers" received. I know that the long timers got more substantial grub, because there was a whole row of them on the ground floor in our hall, and when I was a trusty, I used to steal from their grub while serving them. |
| 11148 |
Man cannot live on bread alone and not enough of it. My pal delivered the goods. After two days of work in the yard I was taken out of my cell and made a trusty, a "hall man." At morning and night we served the bread to the prisoners in their cells; but at twelve o'clock a different method was used. |
| 11149 |
The convicts marched in from work in a long line. As they entered the door of our hall, they broke the lock step and took their hands down from the shoulders of their line mates. Just inside the door were piled trays of bread, and here also stood the First Hall man and two ordinary hall men. I was one of the two. |
| 11150 |
The hungry wretches could never get over the delusion that sometime they could manage to get two rations of bread out of the tray. But in my experience that sometime never came. The club of the First Hall man had a way of flashing out quick as the stroke of a tiger's claw to the hand that dared ambitiously. |
| 11151 |
He never missed, and he usually punished the offending convict by taking his one ration away from him and sending him to his cell to make his meal off of hot water. And at times, while all these men lay hungry in their cells, I have seen a hundred or so extra rations of bread hidden away in the cells of the hall men. |
| 11152 |
But it was one of our grafts. We were economic masters inside our hall, turning the trick in ways quite similar to the economic masters of civilization. We controlled the food supply of the population, and, just like our brother bandits outside, we made the people pay through the nose for it. We peddled the bread. |
| 11153 |
Two or three rations of bread for a plug was the way we exchanged, and they traded, not because they loved tobacco less, but because they loved bread more. Oh, I know, it was like taking candy from a baby, but what would you? We had to live. And certainly there should be some reward for initiative and enterprise. |
| 11154 |
Besides, we but patterned ourselves after our betters outside the walls, who, on a larger scale, and under the respectable disguise of merchants, bankers, and captains of industry, did precisely what we were doing. What awful things would have happened to those poor wretches if it hadn't been for us, I can't imagine. |
| 11155 |
And then there was our example. In the breast of every convict there we implanted the ambition to become even as we and run a graft. Saviours of society I guess yes. Here was a hungry man without any tobacco. Maybe he was a profligate and had used it all up on himself. Very good; he had a pair of suspenders. |
| 11156 |
I exchanged half a dozen rations of bread for it or a dozen rations if the suspenders were very good. Now I never wore suspenders, but that didn't matter. Around the corner lodged a long timer, doing ten years for manslaughter. He wore suspenders, and he wanted a pair. I could trade them to him for some of his meat. |
| 11157 |
Or perhaps he had a tattered, paper covered novel. That was treasure trove. I could read it and then trade it off to the bakers for cake, or to the cooks for meat and vegetables, or to the firemen for decent coffee, or to some one or other for the newspaper that occasionally filtered in, heaven alone knows how. |
| 11158 |
This money was sometimes smuggled in by the short timers, more frequently came from the barber shop graft, where the newcomers were mulcted, but most of all flowed from the cells of the long timers though how they got it I don't know. What of his preeminent position, the First Hall man was reputed to be quite wealthy. |
| 11159 |
He had over sixteen dollars. He used to count his money every night after nine o'clock, when we were locked in. Also, he used to tell me each night what he would do to me if I gave away on him to the other hall men. You see, he was afraid of being robbed, and danger threatened him from three different directions. |
| 11160 |
And yet again, there were the ten of us who were ordinary hall men. If we got an inkling of his wealth, there was a large liability, some quiet day, of the whole bunch of us getting him into a corner and dragging him down. Oh, we were wolves, believe me just like the fellows who do business in Wall Street. |
| 11161 |
Then it was that we restored the divine spark, running the galleries, from cell to cell, with our smouldering punks. Those who were wise, or with whom we did business, had their punks all ready to light. Not every one got divine sparks, however. The guy who refused to dig up, went sparkless and smokeless to bed. |
| 11162 |
We had the immortal cinch on him, and if he got fresh, two or three of us would pitch on him and give him "what for." You see, this was the working theory of the hall men. There were thirteen of us. We had something like half a thousand prisoners in our hall. We were supposed to do the work, and to keep order. |
| 11163 |
Here were thirteen beasts of us over half a thousand other beasts. It was a living hell, that prison, and it was up to us thirteen there to rule. It was impossible, considering the nature of the beasts, for us to rule by kindness. We ruled by fear. Of course, behind us, backing us up, were the guards. |
| 11164 |
At times, say in the morning when the prisoners came down to wash, the thirteen of us would be practically alone in the midst of them, and every last one of them had it in for us. Thirteen against five hundred, and we ruled by fear. We could not permit the slightest infraction of rules, the slightest insolence. |
| 11165 |
If we did, we were lost. Our own rule was to hit a man as soon as he opened his mouth hit him hard, hit him with anything. A broom handle, end on, in the face, had a very sobering effect. But that was not all. Such a man must be made an example of; so the next rule was to wade right in and follow him up. |
| 11166 |
Eight hall men took the conceit out of him in just about a minute and a half for that was the length of time required to travel along his gallery to the end and down five flights of steel stairs. He travelled the whole distance on every portion of his anatomy except his feet, and the eight hall men were not idle. |
| 11167 |
In that moment he threw his arms wide apart and omitted an awful scream of terror and pain and heartbreak. At the same instant, as in a transformation scene, the shreds of his stout prison clothes fell from him, leaving him wholly naked and streaming blood from every portion of the surface of his body. |
| 11168 |
You thrust your hand between the bars and have it filled with precious tobacco. Then you give him a light. Sometimes, however, a newcomer arrives, upon whom no grafts are to be worked. The mysterious word is passed along that he is to be treated decently. Where this word originated I could never learn. |
| 11169 |
It had been given to him by a barber. The barber had received it from the convict who had smuggled in my things. Because of my debt to him I was to carry the letter on. But he had not written the letter. The original sender was a long timer in his hall. The letter was for a woman prisoner in the female department. |
| 11170 |
But whether it was intended for her, or whether she, in turn, was one of the chain of go betweens, I did not know. All that I knew was her description, and that it was up to me to get it into her hands. Two days passed, during which time I kept the letter in my possession; then the opportunity came. |
| 11171 |
Door after door was unlocked for us as we threaded our way across the prison to the women's quarters. We entered a large room where the women sat working at their mending. My eyes were peeled for the woman who had been described to me. I located her and worked near to her. Two eagle eyed matrons were on watch. |
| 11172 |
She knew I had something for her; she must have been expecting it, and had set herself to divining, at the moment we entered, which of us was the messenger. But one of the matrons stood within two feet of her. Already the hall men were picking up the bundles they were to carry away. The moment was passing. |
| 11173 |
When we got out, we were to travel together, and, it goes without saying, pull off "jobs" together. For my pal was a criminal oh, not a jewel of the first water, merely a petty criminal who would steal and rob, commit burglary, and, if cornered, not stop short of murder. Many a quiet hour we sat and talked together. |
| 11174 |
Our hall was a common stews, filled with the ruck and the filth, the scum and dregs, of society hereditary inefficients, degenerates, wrecks, lunatics, addled intelligences, epileptics, monsters, weaklings, in short, a very nightmare of humanity. Hence, fits flourished with us. These fits seemed contagious. |
| 11175 |
When one man began throwing a fit, others followed his lead. I have seen seven men down with fits at the same time, making the air hideous with their cries, while as many more lunatics would be raging and gibbering up and down. Nothing was ever done for the men with fits except to throw cold water on them. |
| 11176 |
They were not to be bothered with such trivial and frequent occurrences. There was a young Dutch boy, about eighteen years of age, who had fits most frequently of all. He usually threw one every day. It was for that reason that we kept him on the ground floor farther down in the row of cells in which we lodged. |
| 11177 |
After he had had a few fits in the prison yard, the guards refused to be bothered with him any more, and so he remained locked up in his cell all day with a Cockney cell mate, to keep him company. Not that the Cockney was of any use. Whenever the Dutch boy had a fit, the Cockney became paralyzed with terror. |
| 11178 |
Also, he took his fits standing up, which was very inconvenient for him, for his fits always culminated in a headlong pitch to the floor. Whenever I heard the long wolf howl rising, I used to grab a broom and run to his cell. Now the trusties were not allowed keys to the cells, so I could not get in to him. |
| 11179 |
What was a man with a fit, anyway? In the adjoining cell lived a strange character a man who was doing sixty days for eating swill out of Barnum's swill barrel, or at least that was the way he put it. He was a badly addled creature, and, at first, very mild and gentle. The facts of his case were as he had stated them. |
| 11180 |
He asked me for it so earnestly that I passed it through the bars to him. Promptly, and with no tool but his fingers, he broke it into short lengths and twisted them into half a dozen very creditable safety pins. He sharpened the points on the stone floor. Thereafter I did quite a trade in safety pins. |
| 11181 |
As wages, I paid him extra rations of bread, and once in a while a chunk of meat or a piece of soup bone with some marrow inside. But his imprisonment told on him, and he grew violent day by day. The hall men took delight in teasing him. They filled his weak brain with stories of a great fortune that had been left him. |
| 11182 |
Next he held a serious conference with me, in which he told me of his millions and the plot to deprive him of them, and in which he appointed me his detective. I did my best to let him down gently, speaking vaguely of a mistake, and that it was another man with a similar name who was the rightful heir. |
| 11183 |
In the end, after a most violent scene, he threw me down, revoked my private detectiveship, and went on strike. My trade in safety pins ceased. He refused to make any more safety pins, and he peppered me with raw material through the bars of his cell when I passed by. I could never make it up with him. |
| 11184 |
He never came back, and I often wonder if he is dead, or if he still gibbers about his millions in some asylum for the insane. At last came the day of days, my release. It was the day of release for the Third Hall man as well, and the short timer girl I had won for him was waiting for him outside the wall. |
| 11185 |
On the other hand, there were hoboes who passed and repassed with amazing frequency, and others, still, who passed like ghosts, close at hand, unseen, and never seen. It was one of the latter that I chased clear across Canada over three thousand miles of railroad, and never once did I lay eyes on him. |
| 11186 |
And promptly the hobo to whom I gave the information lit out after his pal. I have met hoboes who, in trying to catch a pal, had pursued clear across the continent and back again, and were still going. "Monicas" are the nom de rails that hoboes assume or accept when thrust upon them by their fellows. |
| 11187 |
Number one conveys the information that begging for money on the main street is fair; number two, that the police will not bother hoboes; number three, that one can sleep in the round house. Number four, however, is ambiguous. The north bound trains may be no good to beat, and they may be no good to beg. |
| 11188 |
I cannot make out whether the Railroad House is a good place for any hobo to beg at night, or whether it is good only for hobo cooks to beg at night, or whether any hobo, cook or non cook, can lend a hand at night, helping the cooks of the Railroad House with their dirty work and getting something to eat in payment. |
| 11189 |
Of all desolate places, the one at which I was ditched was the limit. It was called a flag station, and it consisted of a shanty dumped inconsequentially into the sand and sagebrush. A chill wind was blowing, night was coming on, and the solitary telegraph operator who lived in the shanty was afraid of me. |
| 11190 |
Besides, hadn't I been thrown off of an east bound train right at that very spot not five minutes before? He assured me that it had stopped under orders, and that a year might go by before another was stopped under orders. He advised me that it was only a dozen or fifteen miles on to Wadsworth and that I'd better hike. |
| 11191 |
It was up to me to hit the ties to Wadsworth, and hit them I did, much to the telegraph operator's relief, for I neglected to burn his shanty and murder him. Telegraph operators have much to be thankful for. At the end of half a dozen miles, I had to get off the ties and let the east bound overland go by. |
| 11192 |
It was not a land in which to linger. And remember, gentle reader, the hobo goes through such a land, without shelter, without money, begging his way and sleeping at night without blankets. This last is something that can be realized only by experience. In the early evening I came down to the depot at Ogden. |
| 11193 |
The way led up a narrow gorge between snow covered mountains, and we shivered and shook and exchanged confidences about how we had covered the ground between Reno and Ogden. I had closed my eyes for only an hour or so the previous night, and the blind was not comfortable enough to suit me for a snooze. |
| 11194 |
He was thirteen years old. He had run away from his folks in some place in Oregon, and was heading east to his grandmother. He had a tale of cruel treatment in the home he had left that rang true; besides, there was no need for him to lie to me, a nameless hobo on the track. And that boy was going some, too. |
| 11195 |
Now it is no snap to strike a strange town, broke, at midnight, in cold weather, and find a place to sleep. The Swede hadn't a penny. My total assets consisted of two dimes and a nickel. From some of the town boys we learned that beer was five cents, and that the saloons kept open all night. There was our meat. |
| 11196 |
We headed for the lights of a saloon, walking briskly, the snow crunching under our feet, a chill little wind blowing through us. Alas, I had misunderstood the town boys. Beer was five cents in one saloon only in the whole burg, and we didn't strike that saloon. But the one we entered was all right. |
| 11197 |
Never mind if it did leave me only a nickel to my name, a stranger in a strange land. I'd have paid it all right. But that barkeeper never gave me a chance. As soon as his eyes spotted the dime I had laid down, he seized the two glasses, one in each hand, and dumped the beer into the sink behind the bar. |
| 11198 |
How we discovered that "kipping" place I can't remember. We must have just headed for it, instinctively, as horses head for water or carrier pigeons head for the home cote. But it was a night not pleasant to remember. A dozen hoboes were ahead of us on top the boilers, and it was too hot for all of us. |
| 11199 |
Later in the day I nailed two other freights and was ditched from both of them. All afternoon no east bound trains went by. The snow was falling thicker than ever, but at twilight I rode out on the first blind of the overland. As I swung aboard the blind from one side, somebody swung aboard from the other. |
| 11200 |
At the first stop, darkness having come on, I went forward and interviewed the fireman. I offered to "shove" coal to the end of his run, which was Rawlins, and my offer was accepted. My work was out on the tender, in the snow, breaking the lumps of coal with a sledge and shovelling it forward to him in the cab. |
| 11201 |
Here the engine was to go into the round house, being replaced by a fresh engine. As the train came to a stop, I dropped off the engine steps plump into the arms of a large man in a large overcoat. He began asking me questions, and I promptly demanded who he was. Just as promptly he informed me that he was the sheriff. |
| 11202 |
The kid was awake and rubbing his eyes. I told him the news and advised him to ride the engine into the round house. To cut the story short, the kid made the same overland out, riding the pilot, with instructions to make an appeal to the fireman at the first stop for permission to ride in the engine. |
| 11203 |
I hope the kid succeeded with him, for all night on the pilot in that blizzard would have meant death. Strange to say, I do not at this late day remember a detail of how I was ditched at Rawlins. I remember watching the train as it was immediately swallowed up in the snow storm, and of heading for a saloon to warm up. |
| 11204 |
Here was light and warmth. Everything was in full blast and wide open. Faro, roulette, craps, and poker tables were running, and some mad cow punchers were making the night merry. I had just succeeded in fraternizing with them and was downing my first drink at their expense, when a heavy hand descended on my shoulder. |
| 11205 |
I found the car a big refrigerator car with the leeward door wide open for ventilation. Up I climbed and in. I stepped on a man's leg, next on some other man's arm. The light was dim, and all I could make out was arms and legs and bodies inextricably confused. Never was there such a tangle of humanity. |
| 11206 |
I could not find any straw to step upon, so I stepped upon more men. The resentment increased, so did my forward movement. I lost my footing and sat down with sharp abruptness. Unfortunately, it was on a man's head. The next moment he had risen on his hands and knees in wrath, and I was flying through the air. |
| 11207 |
All the rest of that day we rode through the blizzard, and to while the time away it was decided that each man was to tell a story. It was stipulated that each story must be a good one, and, furthermore, that it must be a story no one had ever heard before. The penalty for failure was the threshing machine. |
| 11208 |
In the latter event they'd have to feed us anyway, and they decided wisely that one meal would be the cheaper way. When the freight rolled into Grand Island at noon, we were sitting on the tops of the cars and dangling our legs in the sunshine. All the police in the burg were on the reception committee. |
| 11209 |
They marched us in squads to the various hotels and restaurants, where dinners were spread for us. We had been thirty six hours without food, and we didn't have to be taught what to do. After that we were marched back to the railroad station. The police had thoughtfully compelled the freight to wait for us. |
| 11210 |
We had no blankets, and in our wet clothes, wet to the skin, we tried to sleep. I rolled under the bar, and the Swede rolled under the table. The holes and crevices in the floor made it impossible, and at the end of half an hour I crawled up on top the bar. A little later the Swede crawled up on top his table. |
| 11211 |
The moment for parting had come. Our palsied hands went out to each other. We were both shivering. When we tried to speak, our teeth chattered us back into silence. We stood alone, shut off from the world; all that we could see was a short length of railroad track, both ends of which were lost in the driving mist. |
| 11212 |
When the constable got done with his threats and warnings, I asked him who he was. The time he lost in telling me enabled Nickey to break out the anchor. I was doing some quick calculating. At the feet of the constable a ladder ran down the dock to the water, and to the ladder was moored a skiff. The oars were in it. |
| 11213 |
The constable stood up in the skiff, and paled the glory of the day with the vividness of his language. Also, he wailed for a gun. You see, that was another gamble we had taken. Anyway, we weren't stealing the boat. It wasn't the constable's. We were merely stealing his fees, which was his particular form of graft. |
| 11214 |
But we figured that the constable would have an eye out on the Carquinez Straits when the ebb started, and that nothing remained for us but to wait for the following ebb, at two o'clock next morning, when we could slip by Cerberus in the darkness. So we lay on deck, smoked cigarettes, and were glad that we were alive. |
| 11215 |
The water was fine, and we spent most of our time in swimming. On the sand bar above the railroad bridge we fell in with a bunch of boys likewise in swimming. Between swims we lay on the bank and talked. They talked differently from the fellows I had been used to herding with. It was a new vernacular. |
| 11216 |
I had never begged in my life, and this was the hardest thing for me to stomach when I first went on The Road. I had absurd notions about begging. My philosophy, up to that time, was that it was finer to steal than to beg; and that robbery was finer still because the risk and the penalty were proportionately greater. |
| 11217 |
The dozen of us who were trying to make her out would have preferred to slip aboard quietly; but our forty friends crowded on with the most amazing and shameless publicity and advertisement. Following Bob's advice, I immediately "decked her," that is, climbed up on top of the roof of one of the mail cars. |
| 11218 |
Several times, when I started forward toward a Chinaman, all nerved and keyed up, Bob dragged me back. He wanted me to get a good hat, and one that fitted. Now a hat came by that was the right size but not new; and, after a dozen impossible hats, along would come one that was new but not the right size. |
| 11219 |
This street was not so crowded as K, and I walked along in quietude, catching my breath and congratulating myself upon my hat and my get away. And then, suddenly, around the corner at my back, came the bare headed Chinaman. With him were a couple more Chinamen, and at their heels were half a dozen men and boys. |
| 11220 |
He is infuriated and cursing them, not a bit afraid, confident of his own strength. He weighs about one hundred and eighty pounds, and his muscles are hard; but he doesn't know what he is up against. The kids are snarling. It is not pretty. They make a rush from all sides, and he lashes out and whirls. |
| 11221 |
It is a powerful leverage. Besides, the man's wind has been shut off. It is the strong arm. The man resists, but he is already practically helpless. The road kids are upon him from every side, clinging to arms and legs and body, and like a wolf at the throat of a moose Barber Kid hangs on and drags backward. |
| 11222 |
Also, what of the strong arm at his throat, he is short of wind. He is making ugly choking noises, and the kids hurry. They really don't want to kill him. All is done. At a word all holds are released at once, and the kids scatter, one of them lugging the shoes he knows where he can get half a dollar for them. |
| 11223 |
The man sits up and looks about him, dazed and helpless. Even if he wanted to, barefooted pursuit in the darkness would be hopeless. I linger a moment and watch him. He is feeling at his throat, making dry, hawking noises, and jerking his head in a quaint way as though to assure himself that the neck is not dislocated. |
| 11224 |
The rolling of a stiff is ofttimes an amusing sight, especially when the stiff is helpless and when interference is unlikely. At the first swoop the stiff's money and jewellery go. Then the kids sit around their victim in a sort of pow wow. A kid generates a fancy for the stiff's necktie. Off it comes. |
| 11225 |
Another kid is after underclothes. Off they come, and a knife quickly abbreviates arms and legs. Friendly hoboes may be called in to take the coat and trousers, which are too large for the kids. And in the end they depart, leaving beside the stiff the heap of their discarded rags. Another vision comes to me. |
| 11226 |
Ahead of us, under an electric light, a man crosses the street diagonally. There is something tentative and desultory in his walk. The kids scent the game on the instant. The man is drunk. He blunders across the opposite sidewalk and is lost in the darkness as he takes a short cut through a vacant lot. |
| 11227 |
But what is this? snarling and strange forms, small and dim and menacing, are between the pack and its prey. It is another pack of road kids, and in the hostile pause we learn that it is their meat, that they have been trailing it a dozen blocks and more and that we are butting in. But it is the world primeval. |
| 11228 |
It was quite an imposing sight. General Kelly sat a magnificent black charger, and with waving banners, to the martial music of fife and drum corps, company by company, in two divisions, his two thousand stiffs countermarched before him and hit the wagon road to the little burg of Weston, seven miles away. |
| 11229 |
The railroad officials coppered that play, too. They didn't wait for the mob. Early in the morning of the second day, an engine, with a single private car attached, arrived at the station and side tracked. At this sign that life had renewed in the dead roads, the whole army lined up beside the track. |
| 11230 |
But never did life renew so monstrously on a dead railroad as it did on those two roads. From the west came the whistle of a locomotive. It was coming in our direction, bound east. We were bound east. A stir of preparation ran down our ranks. The whistle tooted fast and furiously, and the train thundered at top speed. |
| 11231 |
In another part of the encampment the glee club would be singing one of its star voices was the "Dentist," drawn from Company L, and we were mighty proud of him. Also, he pulled teeth for the whole army, and, since the extractions usually occurred at meal time, our digestions were stimulated by variety of incident. |
| 11232 |
In addition to the stunts of the companies and the glee club, church services were usually held, local preachers officiating, and always there was a great making of political speeches. All these things ran neck and neck; it was a full blown Midway. A lot of talent can be dug out of two thousand hoboes. |
| 11233 |
It was there, at the stove works, a dozen years before, that the Army lay down and swore a mighty oath that its feet were sore and that it would walk no more. We took possession of the stove works and told Des Moines that we had come to stay that we'd walked in, but we'd be blessed if we'd walk out. |
| 11234 |
Des Moines was hospitable, but this was too much of a good thing. Do a little mental arithmetic, gentle reader. Two thousand hoboes, eating three square meals, make six thousand meals per day, forty two thousand meals per week, or one hundred and sixty eight thousand meals per shortest month in the calendar. |
| 11235 |
Des Moines was desperate. We lay in camp, made political speeches, held sacred concerts, pulled teeth, played baseball and seven up, and ate our six thousand meals per day, and Des Moines paid for it. Des Moines pleaded with the railroads, but they were obdurate; they had said we shouldn't ride, and that settled it. |
| 11236 |
That was the terrifying factor in the situation. We were bound for Washington, and Des Moines would have had to float municipal bonds to pay all our railroad fares, even at special rates, and if we remained much longer, she'd have to float bonds anyway to feed us. Then some local genius solved the problem. |
| 11237 |
We represented the Army, of course, and the provisions were turned over to us. But there wasn't anything small about us. We never took more than we could get away with. But we did take the cream of everything. For instance, if some philanthropic farmer had donated several dollars' worth of tobacco, we took it. |
| 11238 |
So, also, we took butter and sugar, coffee and canned goods; but when the stores consisted of sacks of beans and flour, or two or three slaughtered steers, we resolutely refrained and went our way, leaving orders to turn such provisions over to the commissary boats whose business was to follow behind us. |
| 11239 |
Counting five to a family, Red Rock consisted of sixty households. Her committee of safety was scared stiff by the eruption of two thousand hungry hoboes who lined their boats two and three deep along the river bank. General Kelly was a fair man. He had no intention of working a hardship on the village. |
| 11240 |
The killing of the steers and the collecting of the requisition began forthwith, and the Army dined. And still the ten graceless individualists soared along ahead and gathered in everything in sight. But General Kelly fixed us. He sent horsemen down each bank, warning farmers and townspeople against us. |
| 11241 |
The captain of Company L refused to recognize us; said we were deserters, and traitors, and scalawags; and when he drew rations for Company L from the commissary, he wouldn't give us any. That captain didn't appreciate us, or he wouldn't have refused us grub. Promptly we intrigued with the first lieutenant. |
| 11242 |
Our hustlers drew better rations from the farmers. Our new captain, however, doubted us. He never knew when he'd see the ten of us again, once we got under way in the morning, so he called in a blacksmith to clinch his captaincy. In the stern of our boat, one on each side, were driven two heavy eye bolts of iron. |
| 11243 |
We couldn't lose that captain. But we were irrepressible. Out of our very manacles we wrought an invincible device that enabled us to put it all over every other boat in the fleet. Like all great inventions, this one of ours was accidental. We discovered it the first time we ran on a snag in a bit of a rapid. |
| 11244 |
In vain we tried to shove off. Then I ordered the men from the head boat into the tail boat. Immediately the head boat floated clear, and its men returned into it. After that, snags, reefs, shoals, and bars had no terrors for us. The instant the head boat struck, the men in it leaped into the tail boat. |
| 11245 |
Like automatons, the twenty men now in the tail boat leaped into the head boat, and the tail boat floated past. The boats used by the Army were all alike, made by the mile and sawed off. They were flat boats, and their lines were rectangles. Each boat was six feet wide, ten feet long, and a foot and a half deep. |
| 11246 |
He had called in his horsemen, and substituted three police boats that travelled in the van and allowed no boats to pass them. The craft containing Company M crowded the police boats hard. We could have passed them easily, but it was against the rules. So we kept a respectful distance astern and waited. |
| 11247 |
We went through that stranded fleet like hemlock through the fire. There was no avoiding the boulders, bars, and snags except by getting out on the bank. We didn't avoid them. We went right over them, one, two, one, two, head boat, tail boat, head boat, tail boat, all hands back and forth and back again. |
| 11248 |
We camped that night alone, and loafed in camp all of next day while the Army patched and repaired its wrecked boats and straggled up to us. There was no stopping our cussedness. We rigged up a mast, piled on the canvas (blankets), and travelled short hours while the Army worked over time to keep us in sight. |
| 11249 |
And so it was, when later, as a tramp, I succeeded in eluding some predatory constable, I could not but feel sorry for the little boys and girls at home in that constable's house; it seemed to me in a way that I was defrauding those little boys and girls of some of the good things of life. But it's all in the game. |
| 11250 |
Some hoboes like to be caught by the watch dogs especially in winter time. Of course, such hoboes select communities where the jails are "good," wherein no work is performed and the food is substantial. Also, there have been, and most probably still are, constables who divide their fees with the hoboes they arrest. |
| 11251 |
He whistles, and the game comes right up to his hand. It is surprising, the money that is made out of stone broke tramps. All through the South at least when I was hoboing are convict camps and plantations, where the time of convicted hoboes is bought by the farmers, and where the hoboes simply have to work. |
| 11252 |
It would never do. I waited a few seconds, then crept to the left hand door and tried it. It was not yet latched. I opened it, dropped to the ground, and closed it behind me. Then I passed across the bumpers to the other side of the train. I opened the door the shack had latched, climbed in, and closed it behind me. |
| 11253 |
He didn't waste any time getting down to business. "I want three dollars," he said. We got on our feet and came nearer to him to confer. We expressed an absolute and devoted willingness to give him three dollars, but explained our wretched luck that compelled our desire to remain unsatisfied. The shack was incredulous. |
| 11254 |
He would compromise for two dollars. We regretted our condition of poverty. He said uncomplimentary things, called us sons of toads, and damned us from hell to breakfast. Then he threatened. He explained that if we didn't dig up, he'd lock us in and carry us on to White River and turn us over to the authorities. |
| 11255 |
Then he made the mistake of attempting to reply. I let out a few more links, and I cut him to the raw and therein rubbed winged and flaming epithets. Nor was my fine frenzy all whim and literary; I was indignant at this vile creature, who, in default of a dollar, would consign me to three months of slavery. |
| 11256 |
Oh, I was a hero with my line of retreat straight behind me. I slanged the shack and his mates till they threw the door open and I could see their infuriated faces in the shine of the lanterns. It was all very simple to them. They had us cornered in the car, and they were going to come in and man handle us. |
| 11257 |
This automatic process has become a mainspring of conduct in me, wound up and ready for instant release. I shall never get over it. Should I be eighty years old, hobbling along the street on crutches, and should a policeman suddenly reach out for me, I know I'd drop the crutches and run like a deer. |
| 11258 |
Then, right in the park itself, were little booths where one could buy glorious, ice cold, sterilized milk and buttermilk at a penny a glass. Every afternoon I sat on a bench and read, and went on a milk debauch. I got away with from five to ten glasses each afternoon. It was dreadfully hot weather. |
| 11259 |
I started for the sidewalk on the park side. There must have been fifty men, who had been in the original crowd, who were heading in the same direction. We were loosely strung out. I noticed the bull, a strapping policeman in a gray suit. He was coming along the middle of the street, without haste, merely sauntering. |
| 11260 |
And I got it. Bang! His club came down on top of my head, and I was reeling backward like a drunken man, the curious faces of the onlookers billowing up and down like the waves of the sea, my precious book falling from under my arm into the dirt, the bull advancing with the club ready for another blow. |
| 11261 |
By a bonfire I came upon a bunch of small boys. There were about twenty of them, and as they talked with one another I learned that they were going to run away with the circus. Now the circus men didn't want to be bothered with this mess of urchins, and a telephone to police headquarters had "coppered" the play. |
| 11262 |
It was past midnight and he had me dead to rights; but before I got done with him he had ponied up a silver quarter and given me the address of an all night restaurant. Then there was a bull in Bristol, New Jersey, who caught me and let me go, and heaven knows he had provocation enough to put me in jail. |
| 11263 |
But the beams or cleats I found myself on were not the broad, generous ones that at that time were usually on box cars. On the contrary, they were very narrow not more than an inch and a half in breadth. I couldn't get half of the width of my sole on them. Then there was nothing to which to hold with my hands. |
| 11264 |
There were no grips. I could only press the flats of my palms against the car ends for support. But that would have been all right if the cleats for my feet had been decently wide. As the freight got out of Philadelphia she began to hit up speed. Then I understood what the shack had meant by suicide. |
| 11265 |
She was a through freight, and there was nothing to stop her. On that section of the Pennsylvania four tracks run side by side, and my east bound freight didn't need to worry about passing west bound freights, nor about being overtaken by east bound expresses. She had the track to herself, and she used it. |
| 11266 |
I knew the train wasn't going to stop, but my mind was made up to chance it if she slowed down sufficiently. The right of way at this point took a curve, crossed a bridge over a canal, and cut through the town of Bristol. This combination compelled slow speed. I clung on to the side ladder and waited. |
| 11267 |
I did not know what necessitated slackening in speed. All I knew was that I wanted to get off. I strained my eyes in the darkness for a street crossing on which to land. I was pretty well down the train, and before my car was in the town the engine was past the station and I could feel her making speed again. |
| 11268 |
In point of fact, my body proper still retained much momentum, while my feet, through contact with the earth, had lost all their momentum. This momentum the feet had lost I had to supply anew by lifting them as rapidly as I could and running them forward in order to keep them under my forward moving body. |
| 11269 |
He was a really good bull at heart, for after I had told him a "story" and helped brush off his clothes, he gave me until the next freight to get out of town. I stipulated two things: first, that the freight be east bound, and second, that it should not be a through freight with all doors sealed and locked. |
| 11270 |
In return for such sumptuous accommodation I took care of a string of horses each morning. I might have been there yet, if it hadn't been for the bulls. One evening, about nine o'clock, I returned to the stable to go to bed, and found a crap game in full blast. It had been a market day, and all the negroes had money. |
| 11271 |
The livery stable faced on two streets. I entered the front, passed through the office, and came to the alley between two rows of stalls that ran the length of the building and opened out on the other street. Midway along this alley, beneath a gas jet and between the rows of horses, were about forty negroes. |
| 11272 |
I was broke and couldn't play. A coon was making passes and not dragging down. He was riding his luck, and with each pass the total stake doubled. All kinds of money lay on the floor. It was fascinating. With each pass, the chances increased tremendously against the coon making another pass. The excitement was intense. |
| 11273 |
And just then there came a thundering smash on the big doors that opened on the back street. A few of the negroes bolted in the opposite direction. I paused from my flight a moment to grab at the all kinds of money on the floor. This wasn't theft: it was merely custom. Every man who hadn't run was grabbing. |
| 11274 |
We surged the other way. It was dark in the office, and the narrow door would not permit all of us to pass out to the street at the same time. Things became congested. A coon took a dive through the window, taking the sash along with him and followed by other coons. At our rear, the bulls were nailing prisoners. |
| 11275 |
They knew they couldn't stop the rush with their hands, and so they were swinging their clubs. I stumbled over the fallen coon who had pivoted me, ducked a swat from a club, dived between a bull's legs, and was free. And then how I ran! There was a lean mulatto just in front of me, and I took his pace. |
| 11276 |
After the train got good and under way and I noted the speed she was making, a misgiving smote me. This was a four track railroad, and the engines took water on the fly. Hoboes had long since warned me never to ride the first blind on trains where the engines took water on the fly. And now let me explain. |
| 11277 |
As the engine, at full speed, passes above, a sort of chute drops down into the trough. The result is that all the water in the trough rushes up the chute and fills the tender. Somewhere along between Washington and Baltimore, as I sat on the platform of the blind, a fine spray began to fill the air. |
| 11278 |
On one side was a low wall that separated it from the street. There was no time for minute investigation. They were at my heels. I headed for the wall and vaulted it. And right there was where I got the surprise of my life. One is used to thinking that one side of a wall is just as high as the other side. |
| 11279 |
There beneath me, on the sidewalk, under the light of a street lamp was a bull. I guess it was nine or ten feet down to the sidewalk; but in the shock of surprise in mid air it seemed twice that distance. I straightened out in the air and came down. At first I thought I was going to land on the bull. |
| 11280 |
My clothes did brush him as my feet struck the sidewalk with explosive impact. It was a wonder he didn't drop dead, for he hadn't heard me coming. It was the man from Mars stunt over again. The bull did jump. He shied away from me like a horse from an auto; and then he reached for me. I didn't stop to explain. |
| 11281 |
After spending some of the coin I'd got from the crap game and killing off an hour of time, I came back to the railroad cut, just outside the lights of the depot, and waited for a train. My blood had cooled down, and I shivered miserably, what of my wet clothes. At last a train pulled into the station. |
| 11282 |
An old man and a boy travelled along this runway. They moved slowly, for the old man was very old, a touch of palsy made his movements tremulous, and he leaned heavily upon his staff. A rude skull cap of goat skin protected his head from the sun. From beneath this fell a scant fringe of stained and dirty white hair. |
| 11283 |
He could not have been more than twelve years old. Tucked coquettishly over one ear was the freshly severed tail of a pig. In one hand he carried a medium sized bow and an arrow. On his back was a quiverful of arrows. From a sheath hanging about his neck on a thong, projected the battered handle of a hunting knife. |
| 11284 |
They seemed to bore into aft about him in a way that was habitual. As he went along he smelled things, as well, his distended, quivering nostrils carrying to his brain an endless series of messages from the outside world. Also, his hearing was acute, and had been so trained that it operated automatically. |
| 11285 |
Suddenly he became alertly tense. Sound, sight, and odor had given him a simultaneous warning. His hand went back to the old man, touching him, and the pair stood still. Ahead, at one side of the top of the embankment, arose a crackling sound, and the boy's gaze was fixed on the tops of the agitated bushes. |
| 11286 |
It showed rustily through the creeping vines which overran it. Beyond, crouching by a bush, a rabbit looked across at him in trembling hesitancy. Fully fifty feet was the distance, but the arrow flashed true; and the transfixed rabbit, crying out in sudden fright and hurt, struggled painfully away into the brush. |
| 11287 |
Sitting down in the sand as quickly as his stiff limbs would let him, he poked a large rock mussel from out of the coals. The heat had forced its shells apart, and the meat, salmon colored, was thoroughly cooked. Between thumb and forefinger, in trembling haste, he caught the morsel and carried it to his mouth. |
| 11288 |
But it was too hot, and the next moment was violently ejected. The old man spluttered with the pain, and tears ran out of his eyes and down his cheeks. The boys were true savages, possessing only the cruel humor of the savage. To them the incident was excruciatingly funny, and they burst into loud laughter. |
| 11289 |
It was noticeable that in these rambling soliloquies his English seemed to recrudesce into better construction and phraseology. But when he talked directly with the boys it lapsed, largely, into their own uncouth and simpler forms. "But there weren't many crabs in those days," the old man wandered on. |
| 11290 |
The dogs about the fire rushed to join their snarling fellow who guarded the goats, while the goats themselves stampeded in the direction of their human protectors. A half dozen forms, lean and gray, glided about on the sand hillocks and faced the bristling dogs. Edwin arched an arrow that fell short. |
| 11291 |
Already has begun the custom of wearing human teeth. In another generation you will be perforating your noses and ears and wearing ornaments of bone and shell. I know. The human race is doomed to sink back farther and farther into the primitive night ere again it begins its bloody climb upward to civilization. |
| 11292 |
We had what we called microscopes and ultramicroscopes, and we put them to our eyes and looked through them, so that we saw things larger than they really were, and many things we could not see without the microscopes at all. Our best ultramicroscopes could make a germ look forty thousand times larger. |
| 11293 |
A mussel shell is a thousand fingers like Edwin's. Take forty mussel shells, and by as many times larger was the germ when we looked at it through a microscope. And after that, we had other ways, by using what we called moving pictures, of making the forty thousand times germ many, many thousand times larger still. |
| 11294 |
There were always new ones coming to live in men's bodies. Long and long and long ago, when there were only a few men in the world, there were few diseases. But as men increased and lived closely together in great cities and civilizations, new diseases arose, new kinds of germs entered their bodies. |
| 11295 |
Nobody thought anything about the news. It was only a small thing. There had been only a few deaths. It seemed, though, that they had died very quickly, and that one of the first signs of the disease was the turning red of the face and all the body. Within twenty four hours came the report of the first case in Chicago. |
| 11296 |
We were sure that the bacteriologists would find a way to overcome this new germ, just as they had overcome other germs in the past. But the trouble was the astonishing quickness with which this germ destroyed human beings, and the fact that it inevitably killed any human body it entered. No one ever recovered. |
| 11297 |
But these convulsions did not last long and were not very severe. If one lived through them, he became perfectly quiet, and only did he feel a numbness swiftly creeping up his body from the feet. The heels became numb first, then the legs, and hips, and when the numbness reached as high as his heart he died. |
| 11298 |
They did not rave or sleep. Their minds always remained cool and calm up to the moment their heart numbed and stopped. And another strange thing was the rapidity of decomposition. No sooner was a person dead than the body seemed to fall to pieces, to fly apart, to melt away even as you looked at it. |
| 11299 |
Trask was the name of the man who succeeded in this, but within thirty hours he was dead. Then came the struggle in all the laboratories to find something that would kill the plague germs. All drugs failed. You see, the problem was to get a drug, or serum, that would kill the germs in the body and not kill the body. |
| 11300 |
I ceased speaking and could only look at her, for the first fear of the plague was already on all of us and we knew that it had come. The young women screamed and ran out of the room. So did the young men run out, all but two. Miss Collbran's convulsions were very mild and lasted less than a minute. |
| 11301 |
He shouted to me through the door to go away. I shall never forget my feelings as I walked down the silent corridors and out across that deserted campus. I was not afraid. I had been exposed, and I looked upon myself as already dead. It was not that, but a feeling of awful depression that impressed me. |
| 11302 |
I had been born within sight and sound of the university. It had been my predestined career. My father had been a professor there before me, and his father before him. For a century and a half had this university, like a splendid machine, been running steadily on. And now, in an instant, it had stopped. |
| 11303 |
In the kitchen I found the cook on the point of departure. But she screamed, too, and in her haste dropped a suitcase of her personal belongings and ran out of the house and across the grounds, still screaming. I can hear her scream to this day. You see, we did not act in this way when ordinary diseases smote us. |
| 11304 |
Thursday night the panic outrush for the country began. Imagine, my grandsons, people, thicker than the salmon run you have seen on the Sacramento river, pouring out of the cities by millions, madly over the country, in vain attempt to escape the ubiquitous death. You see, they carried the germs with them. |
| 11305 |
But there was some accident, and they were wrecked near Mount Shasta. You have heard of that mountain. It is far to the north. The plague broke out amongst them, and this boy of eleven was the only survivor. For eight years he was alone, wandering over a deserted land and looking vainly for his own kind. |
| 11306 |
There were numerous fires burning in Berkeley, while Oakland and San Francisco were apparently being swept by vast conflagrations. The smoke of the burning filled the heavens, so that the midday was as a gloomy twilight, and, in the shifts of wind, sometimes the sun shone through dimly, a dull red orb. |
| 11307 |
Even as I looked on from a distance, I saw one of the robbers break the windows of the adjoining store, a place where shoes were sold, and deliberately set fire to it. I did not go to the groceryman's assistance. The time for such acts had already passed. Civilization was crumbling, and it was each for himself. |
| 11308 |
Yet I did not go to his help, for at the moment I came upon the scene there was a pistol shot, and I saw him sinking to the ground. The woman screamed, and she was felled with a fist blow by one of the brutes. I cried out threateningly, whereupon they discharged their pistols at me and I ran away around the corner. |
| 11309 |
But the husband commanded her sternly to go on, while others laid hands on her and restrained her from following him. This I saw, and I saw the man also, with his scarlet blaze of face, step into a doorway on the opposite side of the street. I heard the report of his pistol, and saw him sink lifeless to the ground. |
| 11310 |
They were all family men, and their families were with them, including the nurses and the servants. Professor Badminton greeted me, I had difficulty in recognizing him. Somewhere he had gone through flames, and his beard was singed off. About his head was a bloody bandage, and his clothes were filthy. |
| 11311 |
A number of committees were appointed, and we developed a very efficient organization. I was on the committee of defence, though for the first day no prowlers came near. We could see them in the distance, however, and by the smoke of their fires knew that several camps of them were occupying the far edge of the campus. |
| 11312 |
We feared that the fires in the city would burst the pipes and empty the reservoirs. So we tore up the cement floor of the central court of the Chemistry Building and dug a well. There were many young men, undergraduates, with us, and we worked night and day on the well. And our fears were confirmed. |
| 11313 |
I can never forget the night preceding it. I had charge of the night guards from eight to twelve, and from the roof of the building I watched the passing of all man's glorious works. So terrible were the local conflagrations that all the sky was lighted up. One could read the finest print in the red glare. |
| 11314 |
Civilization, my grandsons, civilization was passing in a sheet of flame and a breath of death. At ten o'clock that night, the great powder magazines at Point Pinole exploded in rapid succession. So terrific were the concussions that the strong building rocked as in an earthquake, while every pane of glass was broken. |
| 11315 |
There were cries and screams, and shots from many pistols. As we afterward conjectured, this fight had been precipitated by an attempt on the part of those that were well to drive out those that were sick. At any rate, a number of the plague stricken prowlers escaped across the campus and drifted against our doors. |
| 11316 |
We warned them back, but they cursed us and discharged a fusillade from their pistols. Professor Merryweather, at one of the windows, was instantly killed, the bullet striking him squarely between the eyes. We opened fire in turn, and all the prowlers fled away with the exception of three. One was a woman. |
| 11317 |
Like foul fiends, there in the red glare from the skies, with faces blazing, they continued to curse us and fire at us. One of the men I shot with my own hand. After that the other man and the woman, still cursing us, lay down under our windows, where we were compelled to watch them die of the plague. |
| 11318 |
One of the professors, who was a bachelor, and one of the undergraduates volunteered. They bade good bye to us and went forth. They were heroes. They gave up their lives that four hundred others might live. After they had performed their work, they stood for a moment, at a distance, looking at us wistfully. |
| 11319 |
Leaving the dead lie, we forced the living ones to segregate themselves in another room. The plague began to break out among the rest of us, and as fast as the symptoms appeared, we sent the stricken ones to these segregated rooms. We compelled them to walk there by themselves, so as to avoid laying hands on them. |
| 11320 |
And here, too, the prowlers were still at their work. We carried our automatic pistols openly in our hands, and looked desperate enough, forsooth, to keep them from attacking us. But at Doctor Hoyle's house the thing happened. Untouched by fire, even as we came to it the smoke of flames burst forth. |
| 11321 |
My first impulse was to shoot him, and I have never ceased regretting that I did not. Staggering and maundering to himself, with bloodshot eyes, and a raw and bleeding slash down one side of his bewhiskered face, he was altogether the most nauseating specimen of degradation and filth I had ever encountered. |
| 11322 |
The President of the Faculty, an old man to begin with, and now hopelessly broken by the awful happenings of the past week, rode in the motor car with several young children and the aged mother of Professor Fairmead. Wathope, a young professor of English, who had a grievous bullet wound in his leg, drove the car. |
| 11323 |
With the smoke it was different. It bit into our nostrils and eyes, and there was not one of us whose eyes were not bloodshot. We directed our course to the southeast through the endless miles of suburban residences, travelling along where the first swells of low hills rose from the flat of the central city. |
| 11324 |
But in this we were unsuccessful. The first great flights from the cities had swept all such utilities away. Calgan, a fine young man, was lost in this work. He was shot by prowlers while crossing a lawn. Yet this was our only casualty, though, once, a drunken brute deliberately opened fire on all of us. |
| 11325 |
I shall never forget the President of the Faculty. During the morning's march his wife, who was walking, betrayed the fatal symptoms, and when she drew aside to let us go on, he insisted on leaving the motor car and remaining with her. There was quite a discussion about this, but in the end we gave in. |
| 11326 |
The land then was not as it is now. It was all cleared of trees and brush, and it was cultivated. The food for millions of mouths was growing, ripening, and going to waste. From the fields and orchards I gathered vegetables, fruits, and berries. Around the deserted farmhouses I got eggs and caught chickens. |
| 11327 |
It was near Lathrop that, out of my loneliness, I picked up a pair of collie dogs that were so newly free that they were urgently willing to return to their allegiance to man. These collies accompanied me for many years, and the strains of them are in those very dogs there that you boys have to day. |
| 11328 |
In the great hotel there I found a prodigious supply of tinned provisions. The pasture was abundant, as was the game, and the river that ran through the valley was full of trout. I remained there three years in an utter loneliness that none but a man who has once been highly civilized can understand. |
| 11329 |
And he cringed, with bowed head, to such as she. She was a lord of life, both by birth and by marriage. The destinies of millions, such as he, she carried in the hollow of her pink white hand. And, in the days before the plague, the slightest contact with such as he would have been pollution. Oh, I have seen it. |
| 11330 |
For many years these three men lived and hunted together, until, at last, desperate, fearing that with them the human race would perish utterly from the planet, they headed westward on the possibility of finding women survivors in California. Johnson alone came through the great desert, where his two companions died. |
| 11331 |
Wherefore, earnestly, I repeat unto you certain things which you must remember and tell to your children after you. You must tell them that when water is made hot by fire, there resides in it a wonderful thing called steam, which is stronger than ten thousand men and which can do all man's work for him. |
| 11332 |
The gunpowder will enable men to kill millions of men, and in this way only, by fire and blood, will a new civilization, in some remote day, be evolved. And of what profit will it be? Just as the old civilization passed, so will the new. It may take fifty thousand years to build, but it will pass. All things pass. |
| 11333 |
Edwin was looking at a small herd of wild horses which had come down on the hard sand. There were at least twenty of them, young colts and yearlings and mares, led by a beautiful stallion which stood in the foam at the edge of the surf, with arched neck and bright wild eyes, sniffing the salt air from off the sea. |
| 11334 |
In appearance they were much the same. Skins of wild animals partly covered them. They were lean and meagre of build, narrow hipped and crooked legged, and at the same time deep chested, with heavy arms and enormous hands. There was much hair on their chests and shoulders, and on the outsides of their arms and legs. |
| 11335 |
They were narrow between the eyes and broad between the cheeks, while their lower jaws were projecting and massive. It was a night of clear starlight, and below them, stretching away remotely, lay range on range of forest covered hills. In the distance the heavens were red from the glow of a volcano. |
| 11336 |
Immediately in front of them blazed a fire. At one side, partly devoured, lay the carcass of a bear, with about it, at a respectable distance, several large dogs, shaggy and wolf like. Beside each man lay his bow and arrows and a huge club. In the cave mouth a number of rude spears leaned against the rock. |
| 11337 |
There were thirty families, but we got no strength from one another. We were in fear of each other all the time. No one ever paid visits. In the top of our tree we built a grass house, and on the platform outside was a pile of rocks, which were for the heads of any that might chance to try to visit us. |
| 11338 |
Father wouldn't. One day, when father was down on the beach, Boo oogh took after mother. She couldn't run fast, for the day before she had got her leg clawed by a bear when she was up on the mountain gathering berries. So Boo oogh caught her and carried her up into his tree. Father never got her back. |
| 11339 |
But one day, climbing after sea gull eggs, he had a fall from the cliff. He was never strong after that. He coughed a great deal, and his shoulders drew near to each other. So father took Strong Arm's wife. When he came around and coughed under our tree, father laughed at him and threw rocks at him. |
| 11340 |
They built a fire in the mouth and smoked him out, like we smoked out the bear there to day. Then they went after Six Fingers, up his tree, and, while they were killing him and his grown son, the rest of us ran away. They caught some of our women, and killed two old men who could not run fast and several children. |
| 11341 |
Before, when a man went after fish, or clams, or gull eggs, he carried his weapons with him, and half the time he was getting food and half the time watching for fear some other man would get him. Now that was all changed. The men went out without their weapons and spent all their time getting food. |
| 11342 |
So we held a council and made our first laws. I was but a cub at the time, but I remember. We said that, in order to be strong, we must not fight one another, and we made a law that when a man killed another him would the tribe kill. We made another law that whoso stole another man's wife him would the tribe kill. |
| 11343 |
In return, they fed the guards and the watchers, and kept the rest for themselves. Sometimes, when a big haul of fish was made they did not know what to do with all their share. So Sea Lion set the women to making money out of shell little round pieces, with a hole in each one, and all made smooth and fine. |
| 11344 |
And, because money was cheap to make, a number of men began to make money out of shell themselves. But the guards stuck spears in them and shot them full of arrows, because they were trying to break up the tribe. It was bad to break up the tribe, for then the Meat Eaters would come over the divide and kill them all. |
| 11345 |
And the women had no work, so they took the places of the men. I worked on the fish trap, getting a string of money every five days. But my sister now did my work, getting a string of money for every ten days. The women worked cheaper, and there was less food, and Tiger Face said we should become guards. |
| 11346 |
He said everything was wrong. He said it was true that we grew strong by adding our strength together. And he said that, when we first formed the tribe, it was right that the men whose strength hurt the tribe should be shorn of their strength men who bashed their brothers' heads and stole their brothers' wives. |
| 11347 |
It was very strange. Whenever a man arose and wanted to go forward all those that stood still said he went backward and should be killed. And the poor people helped stone him, and were fools. We were all fools, except those who were fat and did no work. The fools were called wise, and the wise were stoned. |
| 11348 |
He had no antecedents. He could talk of no previous jobs. His hands were soft. His extraordinary politeness was ominous. His first idea of the role he would play was that of a free and independent American who chose to work with his hands and no explanations given. But it wouldn't do, as he quickly discovered. |
| 11349 |
At the beginning they accepted him, very provisionally, as a freak. A little later, as he began to know his way about better, he insensibly drifted into the role that would work namely, he was a man who had seen better days, very much better days, but who was down on his luck, though, to be sure, only temporarily. |
| 11350 |
It was not skilled labour, but it was piece work. The ordinary labourers in the cannery got a dollar and a half per day. Freddie Drummond found the other men on the same job with him jogging along and earning a dollar and seventy five cents a day. By the third day he was able to earn the same. But he was ambitious. |
| 11351 |
The next day, having keyed himself up to an exhausting high tension, he earned two dollars and a half. His fellow workers favoured him with scowls and black looks, and made remarks, slangily witty and which he did not understand, about sucking up to the boss and pace making and holding her down, when the rains set in. |
| 11352 |
He was astonished at their malingering on piece work, generalized about the inherent laziness of the unskilled labourer, and proceeded next day to hammer out three dollars' worth of boxes. And that night, coming out of the cannery, he was interviewed by his fellow workmen, who were very angry and incoherently slangy. |
| 11353 |
As he said, in the preface to his second book, The Toiler, he endeavoured really to know the working people, and the only possible way to achieve this was to work beside them, eat their food, sleep in their beds, be amused with their amusements, think their thoughts, and feel their feeling. He was not a deep thinker. |
| 11354 |
Not that he was a dandy. Far from it. He was a college man, in dress and carriage as like as a pea to the type that of late years is being so generously turned out of our institutions of higher learning. His handshake was satisfyingly strong and stiff. His blue eyes were coldly blue and convincingly sincere. |
| 11355 |
In his football days, the higher the tension of the game, the cooler he grew. He was noted as a boxer, but he was regarded as an automaton, with the inhuman precision of a machine judging distance and timing blows, guarding, blocking, and stalling. He was rarely punished himself, while he rarely punished an opponent. |
| 11356 |
And Bill Totts liked the girls and the girls liked him, while Freddie Drummond enjoyed playing the ascetic in this particular, was open in his opposition to equal suffrage, and cynically bitter in his secret condemnation of coeducation. Freddie Drummond changed his manners with his dress, and without effort. |
| 11357 |
When he entered the obscure little room used for his transformation scenes, he carried himself just a bit too stiffly. He was too erect, his shoulders were an inch too far back, while his face was grave, almost harsh, and practically expressionless. But when he emerged in Bill Totts' clothes he was another creature. |
| 11358 |
It was while gathering material for Women and Work that Freddie received his first warning of the danger he was in. He was too successful at living in both worlds. This strange dualism he had developed was after all very unstable, and, as he sat in his study and meditated, he saw that it could not endure. |
| 11359 |
And as he looked at the row of volumes that graced the upper shelf of his revolving book case, his volumes, beginning with his Thesis and ending with Women and Work, he decided that that was the world he would hold to and stick by. Bill Totts had served his purpose, but he had become a too dangerous accomplice. |
| 11360 |
Wherefore, probably, he practised his iron inhibition and preached it to others, and preferred women of his own type, who could shake free of this bestial and regrettable ancestral line and by discipline and control emphasize the wideness of the gulf that separated them from what their dim forbears had been. |
| 11361 |
The landlady's daughter had called him and led him to the little bedroom, the occupant of which, a glove maker, had just been removed to hospital. But Bill did not know this. He stooped, up ended the trunk, which was a large one, got it on his shoulder, and struggled to his feet with his back toward the open door. |
| 11362 |
Otherwise, his conduct would be beneath contempt and horrible. In the several months that followed, San Francisco was torn with labour strife. The unions and the employers' associations had locked horns with a determination that looked as if they intended to settle the matter, one way or the other, for all time. |
| 11363 |
Beside each scab driver sat a policeman. Front and rear, and along each side of this procession, marched a protecting escort of one hundred police. Behind the police rearguard, at a respectful distance, was an orderly but vociferous mob, several blocks in length, that congested the street from sidewalk to sidewalk. |
| 11364 |
The driver of the waggon seemed undecided, and the chauffeur, running slow but disregarding some shouted warning from the crossing policemen, swerved the auto to the left, violating the traffic rules, in order to pass in front of the waggon. At that moment Freddie Drummond discontinued his conversation. |
| 11365 |
At the same moment, laying on his whip, and standing up to his task, the coal driver rushed horses and waggon squarely in front of the advancing procession, pulled the horses up sharply, and put on the big brake. Then he made his lines fast to the brake handle and sat down with the air of one who had stopped to stay. |
| 11366 |
On the other side a brewery waggon was locking with the coal waggon, and an east bound Kearny Street car, wildly clanging its gong, the motorman shouting defiance at the crossing policeman, was dashing forward to complete the blockade. And waggon after waggon was locking and blocking and adding to the confusion. |
| 11367 |
From the rear arose the rat rat tat of clubs on heads and a pandemonium of cursing, yelling, and shouting. A violent accession of noise proclaimed that the mob had broken through and was dragging a scab from a waggon. The police captain reinforced from his vanguard, and the mob at the rear was repelled. |
| 11368 |
Meanwhile, window after window in the high office building on the right had been opened, and the class conscious clerks were raining a shower of office furniture down on the heads of police and scabs. Waste baskets, ink bottles, paper weights, type writers anything and everything that came to hand was filling the air. |
| 11369 |
The motorman, smashing helmets with his controller bar, was beaten into insensibility and dragged from his platform. The captain of police, beside himself at the repulse of his men, led the next assault on the coal waggon. A score of police were swarming up the tall sided fortress. But the teamster multiplied himself. |
| 11370 |
She reached out her gloved hand and patted the flank of the snorting, quivering horse. But Drummond did not notice the action. He had eyes for nothing save the battle of the coal waggon, while somewhere in his complicated psychology, one Bill Totts was heaving and straining in an effort to come to life. |
| 11371 |
It was Bill Totts, looking out of those eyes, who saw the inevitable end of the battle on the coal waggon. He saw a policeman gain the top of the load, a second, and a third. They lurched clumsily on the loose footing, but their long riot clubs were out and swinging. One blow caught the teamster on the head. |
| 11372 |
A second he dodged, receiving it on the shoulder. For him the game was plainly up. He dashed in suddenly, clutched two policemen in his arms, and hurled himself a prisoner to the pavement, his hold never relaxing on his two captors. Catherine Van Vorst was sick and faint at sight of the blood and brutal fighting. |
| 11373 |
His onslaught was like a whirlwind. Before the bewildered officer on the load could guess the errand of this conventionally clad but excited seeming gentleman, he was the recipient of a punch that arched him back through the air to the pavement. A kick in the face led an ascending policeman to follow his example. |
| 11374 |
A rush of three more gained the top and locked with Bill Totts in a gigantic clinch, during which his scalp was opened up by a club, and coat, vest, and half his starched shirt were torn from him. But the three policemen were flung far and wide, and Bill Totts, raining down lumps of coal, held the fort. |
| 11375 |
A fresh shower of office chairs and filing cabinets descended. The mob had broken through on one side the line of waggons, and was advancing, each segregated policeman the centre of a fighting group. The scabs were torn from their seats, the traces of the horses cut, and the frightened animals put in flight. |
| 11376 |
Many policemen crawled under the coal waggon for safety, while the loose horses, with here and there a policeman on their backs or struggling at their heads to hold them, surged across the sidewalk opposite the jam and broke into Market Street. Catherine Van Vorst heard the woman's voice calling in warning. |
| 11377 |
Out of their native optimism and race egotism they had therefore concluded that the task was impossible, that China would never awaken. What they had failed to take into account was this: that between them and China was no common psychological speech. Their thought processes were radically dissimilar. |
| 11378 |
Japan swiftly assimilated the Western ideas, and digested them, and so capably applied them that she suddenly burst forth, full panoplied, a world power. There is no explaining this peculiar openness of Japan to the alien culture of the West. As well might be explained any biological sport in the animal kingdom. |
| 11379 |
There had been changes, differentiations brought about by diverse conditions and infusions of other blood; but down at the bottom of their beings, twisted into the fibres of them, was a heritage in common, a sameness in kind that time had not obliterated. And so Japan took upon herself the management of China. |
| 11380 |
He had always been that. For sheer ability to work no worker in the world could compare with him. Work was the breath of his nostrils. It was to him what wandering and fighting in far lands and spiritual adventure had been to other peoples. Liberty, to him, epitomized itself in access to the means of toil. |
| 11381 |
And the awakening of China had given its vast population not merely free and unlimited access to the means of toil, but access to the highest and most scientific machine means of toil. China rejuvenescent! It was but a step to China rampant. She discovered a new pride in herself and a will of her own. |
| 11382 |
Contrary to expectation, China did not prove warlike. She had no Napoleonic dream, and was content to devote herself to the arts of peace. After a time of disquiet, the idea was accepted that China was to be feared, not in war, but in commerce. It will be seen that the real danger was not apprehended. |
| 11383 |
The Chinese wave flowed on. France assembled a force of a hundred thousand on the boundary between her unfortunate colony and China, and China sent down an army of militia soldiers a million strong. Behind came the wives and sons and daughters and relatives, with their personal household luggage, in a second army. |
| 11384 |
The process was simple. First came the Chinese immigration (or, rather, it was already there, having come there slowly and insidiously during the previous years). Next came the clash of arms and the brushing away of all opposition by a monster army of militia soldiers, followed by their families and household baggage. |
| 11385 |
All the Western nations, and some few of the Eastern, were represented. Nothing was accomplished. There was talk of all countries putting bounties on children to increase the birth rate, but it was laughed to scorn by the arithmeticians, who pointed out that China was too far in the lead in that direction. |
| 11386 |
We have our own destiny to accomplish. It is unpleasant that our destiny does not tally with the destiny of the rest of the world, but what would you? You have talked windily about the royal races and the heritage of the earth, and we can only reply that that remains to be seen. You cannot invade us. |
| 11387 |
Our strength is in our population, which will soon be a billion. Thanks to you, we are equipped with all modern war machinery. Send your navies. We will not notice them. Send your punitive expeditions, but first remember France. To land half a million soldiers on our shores would strain the resources of any of you. |
| 11388 |
Send a million; send five millions, and we will swallow them down just as readily. Pouf! A mere nothing, a meagre morsel. Destroy, as you have threatened, you United States, the ten million coolies we have forced upon your shores why, the amount scarcely equals half of our excess birth rate for a year. |
| 11389 |
There was no way to dam up the over spilling monstrous flood of life. War was futile. China laughed at a blockade of her coasts. She welcomed invasion. In her capacious maw was room for all the hosts of earth that could be hurled at her. And in the meantime her flood of yellow life poured out and on over Asia. |
| 11390 |
The secret that he carried began to spread, but it spread only among the heads of Governments. Possibly half a dozen men in a nation were entrusted with the idea that had formed in Jacobus Laningdale's head. Following the spread of the secret, sprang up great activity in all the dockyards, arsenals, and navy yards. |
| 11391 |
Fleet followed fleet, and all proceeded to the coast of China. The nations cleaned out their navy yards. They sent their revenue cutters and dispatch boots and lighthouse tenders, and they sent their last antiquated cruisers and battleships. Not content with this, they impressed the merchant marine. |
| 11392 |
Along her coasts the towns and villages were not even shelled. Never, in the history of the world, had there been so mighty a gathering of war fleets. The fleets of all the world were there, and day and night millions of tons of battleships ploughed the brine of her coasts, and nothing happened. Nothing was attempted. |
| 11393 |
From this airship, as it curved its flight back and forth over the city, fell missiles strange, harmless missiles, tubes of fragile glass that shattered into thousands of fragments on the streets and house tops. But there was nothing deadly about these tubes of glass. Nothing happened. There were no explosions. |
| 11394 |
It is true, three Chinese were killed by the tubes dropping on their heads from so enormous a height; but what were three Chinese against an excess birth rate of twenty millions? One tube struck perpendicularly in a fish pond in a garden and was not broken. It was dragged ashore by the master of the house. |
| 11395 |
He did not dare to open it, but, accompanied by his friends, and surrounded by an ever increasing crowd, he carried the mysterious tube to the magistrate of the district. The latter was a brave man. With all eyes upon him, he shattered the tube with a blow from his brass bowled pipe. Nothing happened. |
| 11396 |
The crowd set up a great laugh and dispersed. As Peking was bombarded by glass tubes, so was all China. The tiny airships, dispatched from the warships, contained but two men each, and over all cities, towns, and villages they wheeled and curved, one man directing the ship, the other man throwing over the glass tubes. |
| 11397 |
Had the reader again been in Peking, six weeks later, he would have looked in vain for the eleven million inhabitants. Some few of them he would have found, a few hundred thousand, perhaps, their carcasses festering in the houses and in the deserted streets, and piled high on the abandoned death waggons. |
| 11398 |
And not all would he have found fleeing from plague stricken Peking, for behind them, by hundreds of thousands of unburied corpses by the wayside, he could have marked their flight. And as it was with Peking, so it was with all the cities, towns, and villages of the Empire. The plague smote them all. |
| 11399 |
Every virulent form of infectious death stalked through the land. Too late the Chinese government apprehended the meaning of the colossal preparations, the marshalling of the world hosts, the flights of the tin airships, and the rain of the tubes of glass. The proclamations of the government were vain. |
| 11400 |
Decrees and proclamations were useless when the men who made them and signed them one moment were dead the next. Nor could the maddened millions, spurred on to flight by death, pause to heed anything. They fled from the cities to infect the country, and wherever they fled they carried the plagues with them. |
| 11401 |
Many millions engaged in them, charging to the bounds of the Empire to be met and turned back by the gigantic armies of the West. The slaughter of the mad hosts on the boundaries was stupendous. Time and again the guarding line was drawn back twenty or thirty miles to escape the contagion of the multitudinous dead. |
| 11402 |
Once the plague broke through and seized upon the German and Austrian soldiers who were guarding the borders of Turkestan. Preparations had been made for such a happening, and though sixty thousand soldiers of Europe were carried off, the international corps of physicians isolated the contagion and dammed it back. |
| 11403 |
Such was the unparalleled invasion of China. For that billion of people there was no hope. Pent in their vast and festering charnel house, all organization and cohesion lost, they could do naught but die. They could not escape. As they were flung back from their land frontiers, so were they flung back from the sea. |
| 11404 |
Seventy five thousand vessels patrolled the coasts. By day their smoking funnels dimmed the sea rim, and by night their flashing searchlights ploughed the dark and harrowed it for the tiniest escaping junk. The attempts of the immense fleets of junks were pitiful. Not one ever got by the guarding sea hounds. |
| 11405 |
The hundreds of millions of dead remained unburied and the germs multiplied themselves, and, toward the last, millions died daily of starvation. Besides, starvation weakened the victims and destroyed their natural defences against the plagues. Cannibalism, murder, and madness reigned. And so perished China. |
| 11406 |
All survivors were put to death wherever found. And then began the great task, the sanitation of China. Five years and hundreds of millions of treasure were consumed, and then the world moved in not in zones, as was the idea of Baron Albrecht, but heterogeneously, according to the democratic American programme. |
| 11407 |
Emil, helped by his frightened playmates, managed to drag himself to the front sidewalk, where he fainted. The children of the neighbourhood were afraid of the hard featured shrew who presided over the Bartell house; but, summoning their resolution, they rang the bell and told Ann Bartell of the accident. |
| 11408 |
As it was, the inflammation rose rapidly and made a nasty case of it. At the end of two hours, the indignant women of the neighbourhood protested to Ann Bartell. This time she came out and looked at the lad. Also she kicked him in the side as he lay helpless at her feet, and she hysterically disowned him. |
| 11409 |
When the doctor arrived, Ann Bartell promptly warned him that she would not pay him for his services. For two months the little Emil lay in bed, the first month on his back without once being turned over; and he lay neglected and alone, save for the occasional visits of the unremunerated and over worked physician. |
| 11410 |
He had no toys, nothing with which to beguile the long and tedious hours. No kind word was spoken to him, no soothing hand laid upon his brow, no single touch or act of loving tenderness naught but the reproaches and harshness of Ann Bartell, and the continually reiterated information that he was not wanted. |
| 11411 |
He was a remarkable student. Application such as his would have taken him far; but he did not need application. A glance at a text meant mastery for him. The result was that he did an immense amount of collateral reading and acquired more in half a year than did the average student in half a dozen years. |
| 11412 |
Toward the end of that year two deaths changed his prospects and his relations with life. The death of Professor Bradlough took from him the one friend he was ever to know, and the death of Ann Bartell left him penniless. Hating the unfortunate lad to the last, she cut him off with one hundred dollars. |
| 11413 |
Here began Emil Gluck's hatred for newspaper men. By them his serious and intrinsically valuable work of six years had been made a laughing stock and a notoriety. To his dying day, and to their everlasting regret, he never forgave them. It was the newspapers that were responsible for the next disaster that befell him. |
| 11414 |
In addition to his genius, his loneliness, and his morbidness, it must be taken into consideration that he knew nothing about women. Whatever tides of desire flooded his being, he was unschooled in the conventional expression of them; while his excessive timidity was bound to make his love making unusual. |
| 11415 |
Irene Tackley was a rather pretty young woman, but shallow and light headed. At the time she worked in a small candy store across the street from Gluck's shop. He used to come in and drink ice cream sodas and lemon squashes, and stare at her. It seems the girl did not care for him, and merely played with him. |
| 11416 |
Enters now the girl's lover, putting his foot down, showing great anger, compelling her to return Gluck's strange assortment of presents. This man, William Sherbourne, was a gross and stolid creature, a heavy jawed man of the working class who had become a successful building contractor in a small way. |
| 11417 |
It is inconceivable to us of to day the bungling, dilatory processes of justice a generation ago. Emil Gluck was proved in February to be an innocent man, yet he was not released until the following October. For eight months, a greatly wronged man, he was compelled to undergo his unmerited punishment. |
| 11418 |
Suicide was the verdict of the coroner's inquest, for he had been shot by his own revolver. The curious thing that happened that night was the shooting of Policeman Phillipps on the sidewalk in front of Sherbourne's house. The policeman crawled to a police telephone on the corner and rang up for an ambulance. |
| 11419 |
Emil Gluck, having disposed of his immediate enemies, now sought a wider field, though his enmity for newspaper men and for the police remained always active. The royalties on his ignition device for gasolene engines had mounted up while he lay in prison, and year by year the earning power of his invention increased. |
| 11420 |
He was independent, able to travel wherever he willed over the earth and to glut his monstrous appetite for revenge. He had become a monomaniac and an anarchist not a philosophic anarchist, merely, but a violent anarchist. Perhaps the word is misused, and he is better described as a nihilist, or an annihilist. |
| 11421 |
He operated wholly alone, but he created a thousandfold more terror and achieved a thousandfold more destruction than all the terrorist groups added together. He signalized his departure from California by blowing up Fort Mason. In his confession he spoke of it as a little experiment he was merely trying his hand. |
| 11422 |
One good result of his awful deeds was the destruction he wrought among the terrorists themselves. Every time he did anything the terrorists in the vicinity were gathered in by the police dragnet, and many of them were executed. Seventeen were executed at Rome alone, following the assassination of the Italian King. |
| 11423 |
The slaughter was terrible horses, troops, spectators, and the King and Queen, were riddled with bullets. To complicate the affair, in different parts of the crowd behind the foot soldiers, two terrorists had bombs explode on their persons. These bombs they had intended to throw if they got the opportunity. |
| 11424 |
They were laughed at by the chemists, who held that, while it was just barely probable that a single cartridge, charged with the new smokeless powder, might spontaneously explode, it was beyond all probability and possibility for all the cartridges in a given area, so charged, spontaneously to explode. |
| 11425 |
The general opinion of the rest of the world was that the whole affair was a blind panic of the feverish Latins, precipitated, it was true, by the bursting of two terrorist bombs; and in this connection was recalled the laughable encounter of long years before between the Russian fleet and the English fishing boats. |
| 11426 |
It happened, at that time, that a wireless telegraph station was established by the Thurston Power Company close to his shop. In a short time his electroplating vat was put out of order. The vat wiring had many bad joints, and, on investigation, Gluck discovered minute welds at the joints in the wiring. |
| 11427 |
Gluck thought no more about it at the time. He merely re wired his vat and went on electroplating. But afterwards, in prison, he remembered the incident, and like a flash there came into his mind the full significance of it. He saw in it the silent, secret weapon with which to revenge himself on the world. |
| 11428 |
Scientifically thorough, he always cleaned up after himself. His method was to rent a room or a house, and secretly to install his apparatus which apparatus, by the way, he so perfected and simplified that it occupied little space. After he had accomplished his purpose he carefully removed the apparatus. |
| 11429 |
She lay at the dock of one of the mine magazines. On her forward deck, on a huge temporary platform of timbers, were disposed over a hundred mines. These mines were for the defence of the Golden Gate. Any one of these mines was capable of destroying a dozen battleships, and there were over a hundred mines. |
| 11430 |
Returning westward again, and scooping in occasional isolated magazines on the high ground back from the shore, he blew up three cruisers and the battleships Oregon, Delaware, New Hampshire, and Florida the latter had just gone into dry dock, and the magnificent dry dock was destroyed along with her. |
| 11431 |
It was clear that human agency was behind all this destruction, and it was equally clear, through Emil Gluck's impartiality, that the destruction was not the work of any particular nation. One thing was patent, namely, that whoever was the human behind it all, that human was a menace to the world. No nation was safe. |
| 11432 |
The surface cars passed along my street, at that time of day, on an average of one every three minutes; but in the ten succeeding minutes not a car passed. Perhaps it was a street railway strike, was my thought; or perhaps there had been an accident and the power was shut off. But no, the silence was too profound. |
| 11433 |
The headlines explained everything explained too much, in fact, for the lengths of pessimism to which the journal went were ridiculous. A general strike, it said, had been called all over the United States; and most foreboding anxieties were expressed concerning the provisioning of the great cities. |
| 11434 |
The streets were crowded but quiet. The working class, dressed in its Sunday best, was out taking the air and observing the effects of the strike. It was all so unusual, and withal so peaceful, that I found myself enjoying it. My nerves were tingling with mild excitement. It was a sort of placid adventure. |
| 11435 |
Quite an adventure it was, getting those candles. It was not until we went across the city and down into the working class quarter south of Market Street that we found small corner groceries that had not yet sold out. Miss Chickering thought one box was sufficient, but I persuaded her into taking four. |
| 11436 |
Also, I filled the car with sacks of flour, baking powder, tinned goods, and all the ordinary necessaries of life suggested by Harmmed, who fussed around and clucked over the purchases like an anxious old hen. The remarkable thing, that first day of the strike, was that no one really apprehended anything serious. |
| 11437 |
The announcement of organized labour in the morning papers that it was prepared to stay out a month or three months was laughed at. And yet that very first day we might have guessed as much from the fact that the working class took practically no part in the great rush to buy provisions. Of course not. |
| 11438 |
That was why we were permitted to go down and buy out the little groceries in the working class neighbourhoods. It was not until I arrived at the club that afternoon that I began to feel the first alarm. Everything was in confusion. There were no olives for the cocktails, and the service was by hitches and jerks. |
| 11439 |
He didn't care much about anything. He was blase at least in all the clean things of life; the nasty things had no attraction for him. He was worth twenty millions, all of it in safe investments, and he had never done a tap of productive work in his life inherited it all from his father and two uncles. |
| 11440 |
For years he had been the greatest catch, and as yet he had avoided being caught. He was disgracefully eligible. On top of his wealth he was young, handsome, and, as I said before, clean. He was a great athlete, a young blond god that did everything perfectly and admirably with the solitary exception of matrimony. |
| 11441 |
You've been ringing the changes too long on the God given right to work... or not to work; you can't escape the corollary. It's a dirty little sordid scrap, that's all the whole thing is. You've got labour down and gouged it, and now labour's got you down and is gouging you, that's all, and you're squealing. |
| 11442 |
You kept the president of the South western Amalgamated Association of Miners in jail for three years on trumped up murder charges, and with him out of the way you broke up the association. That was gouging labour, you'll admit. The third time the graduated income tax was declared unconstitutional was a gouge. |
| 11443 |
I haven't said that anything is right or wrong. It's all a rotten game, I know; and my sole kick is that you fellows are squealing now that you're down and labour's taking a gouge out of you. Of course I've taken the profits from the gouging and, thanks to you, gentlemen, without having personally to do the dirty work. |
| 11444 |
Washington? Most probably the same things that were happening with us, we concluded; but the fact that we did not know with absolute surety was irritating. General Folsom had a bit of news. An attempt had been made to place army telegraphers in the telegraph offices, but the wires had been cut in every direction. |
| 11445 |
What worried him was the wire cutting; he could not but believe that it was an important part of the deep laid labour conspiracy. Also, he regretted that the Government had not long since established its projected chain of wireless stations. The days came and went, and for a while it was a humdrum time. |
| 11446 |
The edge of excitement had become blunted. The streets were not so crowded. The working class did not come uptown any more to see how we were taking the strike. And there were not so many automobiles running around. The repair shops and garages were closed, and whenever a machine broke down it went out of commission. |
| 11447 |
I knew that my servants were beginning to draw long faces, and it was amazing the hole they made in my stock of provisions. In fact, as I afterward surmised, each servant was stealing from me and secreting a private stock of provisions for himself. But with the formation of the bread lines came new troubles. |
| 11448 |
There was only so much of a food reserve in San Francisco, and at the best it could not last long. Organized labour, we knew, had its private supplies; nevertheless, the whole working class joined the bread lines. As a result, the provisions General Folsom had taken possession of diminished with perilous rapidity. |
| 11449 |
We went out to the outskirts of the city. Here and there were cows grazing, but always they were guarded by their owners. We pursued our quest, following along the fringe of the city to the east, and on the hills near Hunter's Point we came upon a cow guarded by a little girl. There was also a young calf with the cow. |
| 11450 |
We wasted no time on preliminaries. The little girl ran away screaming, while we slaughtered the cow. I omit the details, for they are not nice we were unaccustomed to such work, and we bungled it. But in the midst of it, working with the haste of fear, we heard cries, and we saw a number of men running toward us. |
| 11451 |
Knife and cleaver had been left behind, but Brentwood still had his hands, and over and over on the ground he rolled with the poor little calf as he throttled it. We threw the carcass into the machine, covered it over with a robe, and started for home. But our misfortunes had only begun. We blew out a tyre. |
| 11452 |
We abandoned the machine, Brentwood pulling and staggering along in advance, the calf, covered by the robe, slung across his shoulders. We took turn about carrying that calf, and it nearly killed us. Also, we lost our way. And then, after hours of wandering and toil, we encountered a gang of hoodlums. |
| 11453 |
Brentwood raged like a madman the rest of the way home, and he looked like one, with his torn clothes, swollen nose, and blackened eyes. There wasn't any more cow stealing after that. General Folsom sent his troopers out and confiscated all the cows, and his troopers, aided by the militia, ate most of the meat. |
| 11454 |
His face was worn and terrified. All the servants had fled, he informed me. He alone remained. I was touched by his faithfulness and, when I learned that he had eaten nothing all day, I divided my food with him. We cooked half the rice and half the bacon, sharing it equally and reserving the other half for morning. |
| 11455 |
It was a gloomy handful of men that came together at the club that morning. There was no service at all. The last servant was gone. I noticed, too, that the silver was gone, and I learned where it had gone. The servants had not taken it, for the reason, I presume, that the club members got to it first. |
| 11456 |
No cataclysm of nature had caused this, but, rather, the tyranny of the labour unions. We rode down past Union Square and through the theatre, hotel, and shopping districts. The streets were deserted. Here and there stood automobiles, abandoned where they had broken down or when the gasolene had given out. |
| 11457 |
Two hundred thousand people had fled from San Francisco, and we had countless evidences that their flight had been like that of an army of locusts. They had swept everything clean. There had been robbery and fighting. Here and there we passed bodies by the roadside and saw the blackened ruins of farm houses. |
| 11458 |
All the vegetable patches had been rooted up by the famished hordes. All the chickens and farm animals had been slaughtered. This was true of all the main roads that led out of San Francisco. Here and there, away from the roads, farmers had held their own with shotguns and revolvers, and were still holding their own. |
| 11459 |
To the right of us we heard cries and rifle shots. Bullets whistled dangerously near. There was a crashing in the underbrush; then a magnificent black truck horse broke across the road in front of us and was gone. We had barely time to notice that he was bleeding and lame. He was followed by three soldiers. |
| 11460 |
I shall never forget the next sight we encountered. We came upon it abruptly around a turn of the road. Overhead arched the trees. The sunshine was filtering down through the branches. Butterflies were fluttering by, and from the fields came the song of larks. And there it stood, a powerful touring car. |
| 11461 |
Dakon refused to ride it farther, and refused to desert it. So, on his solicitation, we went on. He would lead the horse and join us at my place. That was the last we saw of him; nor did we ever learn his end. By one o'clock we arrived at the town of Menlo, or, rather, at the site of Menlo, for it was in ruins. |
| 11462 |
Corpses lay everywhere. The business part of the town, as well as part of the residences, had been gutted by fire. Here and there a residence still held out; but there was no getting near them. When we approached too closely we were fired upon. We met a woman who was poking about in the smoking ruins of her cottage. |
| 11463 |
Millionaires and paupers had fought side by side for the food, and then fought with one another after they got it. The town of Palo Alto and Stanford University had been sacked in similar fashion, we learned. Ahead of us lay a desolate, wasted land; and we thought we were wise in turning off to my place. |
| 11464 |
The calves, the colts, all the fancy poultry and thoroughbred stock, everything, was gone. The kitchen and the fireplaces, where the mob had cooked, were a mess, while many camp fires outside bore witness to the large number that had fed and spent the night. What they had not eaten they had carried away. |
| 11465 |
So, in the morning, we parted company, Hanover heading south, fifty pounds of horse meat strapped to his saddle, while I, similarly loaded, headed north. Little Hanover pulled through all right, and to the end of his life he will persist, I know, in boring everybody with the narrative of his subsequent adventures. |
| 11466 |
I passed around by the alleyway and crawled up the black steps, on which I collapsed. I managed to reach out with the crutch and knock on the door. Then I must have fainted, for I came to in the kitchen, my face wet with water, and whisky being poured down my throat. I choked and spluttered and tried to talk. |
| 11467 |
The pilot grunted, while the skipper swept on with his glass from the launch to the strip of beach and to Kingston beyond, and then slowly across the entrance to Howth Head on the northern side. "The tide's right, and we'll have you docked in two hours," the pilot vouchsafed, with an effort at cheeriness. |
| 11468 |
Beneath them, on the main deck, two Chinese stokers were carrying breakfast for'ard across the rusty iron plates that told their own grim story of weight and wash of sea. A sailor was taking down the life line that stretched from the forecastle, past the hatches and cargo winches, to the bridge deck ladder. |
| 11469 |
The starboard davits were also empty. The shattered wreck of the lifeboat they had held lay on the fiddley beside the smashed engine room skylight, which was covered by a tarpaulin. Below, to star board, on the bridge deck, the pilot saw the crushed mess room door, roughly bulkheaded against the pounding seas. |
| 11470 |
The wonders of the deep were without significance to him. Tornadoes, hurricanes, waterspouts, and tidal waves were so many obstacles to the way of a ship on the sea and of a master on the bridge they were that to him, and nothing more. He had seen, and yet not seen, the many marvels and wonders of far lands. |
| 11471 |
For the scene before him was but the background in his brain for the vision of peace that was his a vision that was his often during long nights on the bridge when the old Tryapsic wallowed on the vexed ocean floor, her decks awash, her rigging thrumming in the gale gusts or snow squalls or driving tropic rain. |
| 11472 |
The last good bye to the wife had been at Cardiff, twenty eight months before, when he sailed for Valparaiso with coals nine thousand tons and down to his marks. From Valparaiso he had gone to Australia, light, a matter of six thousand miles on end with a stormy passage and running short of bunker coal. |
| 11473 |
He had shared them with no one. His two young officers were too young and flighty, the mate too stupid. There was no consulting with them. One tenant had shared the cabin with him, that tenant his responsibility. They had dined and supped together, walked the bridge together, and together they had bedded. |
| 11474 |
His eyes were for her first, though the temptation was great to have more than a hurried glimpse of the child in the chair beside her. He held her off from him after the long embrace, and looked into her face long and steadily, drinking in every feature of it and wondering that he could mark no changes of time. |
| 11475 |
The hands were noteworthy. They were large knuckled, sinewy and malformed by labour, rimed with callouses, the nails blunt and broken, and with here and there cuts and bruises, healed and healing, such as are common to the hands of hard working men. On the back were huge, upstanding veins, eloquent of age and toil. |
| 11476 |
This last, of course, I learned later. At the time I knew neither her history nor her identity. She wore heavy man's brogans. Her legs were stockingless, and I had noticed when she walked that her bare feet were thrust into the crinkly, iron like shoes that sloshed about her lean ankles at every step. |
| 11477 |
But it was her face, wrinkled, withered and weather beaten, surrounded by an aureole of unkempt and straggling wisps of greyish hair, that caught and held me. Neither drifted hair nor serried wrinkles could hide the splendid dome of a forehead, high and broad without verging in the slightest on the abnormal. |
| 11478 |
Not that they were atrophied. On the contrary, they seemed tense and set with a muscular and spiritual determination. There, and in the eyes, was the secret of the certitude with which she carried the heavy sacks up the steep steps, with never a false step or overbalance, and emptied them in the grain bin. |
| 11479 |
In this eternity that seemed so indubitably hers, there was time and to spare for safe footing and stable equilibrium for certitude, in short. No more in her spiritual life than in carrying the hundredweights of grain was there a possibility of a misstep or an overbalancing. The feeling produced in me was uncanny. |
| 11480 |
Wedded to old ways, public opinion and the ministers are powerful influences, while fathers and mothers are revered and obeyed as in few other places in this modern world. Courting lasts never later than ten at night, and no girl walks out with her young man without her parents' knowledge and consent. |
| 11481 |
A long pause followed, during which Mrs. Ross knitted stolidly on, only nodding permission when Clara's young man, mate on one of the Shire Line sailing ships, came to walk out with her. I studied the half dozen ostrich eggs, hanging in the corner against the wall like a cluster of some monstrous fruit. |
| 11482 |
On each shell were painted precipitous and impossible seas through which full rigged ships foamed with a lack of perspective only equalled by their sharp technical perfection. On the mantelpiece stood two large pearl shells, obviously a pair, intricately carved by the patient hands of New Caledonian convicts. |
| 11483 |
She was described as a slender wisp of a girl, delicately featured and with a nervous organization of the supersensitive order. Theirs had been the first marriage in the "new" church, and after a two weeks' honeymoon Samuel had kissed his bride good bye and sailed in command of the Loughbank, a big four masted barque. |
| 11484 |
Nor was it the blunder of the minister alone, as one of the elders later explained; for it was equally the blunder of the whole Presbytery of Coughleen, which included fifteen churches on Island McGill and the mainland. The old church, beyond repair, had been torn down and the new one built on the original foundation. |
| 11485 |
Promptly came back the announcement that his church had no legal existence, not being registered according to the law's demands. This was overcome by prompt registration; but the marriages were not to be so easily remedied. The three sailor husbands were away, and their wives, in short, were not their wives. |
| 11486 |
Her third child was a girl, named after herself, and the fourth was a boy again. Despite the strokes of fate that had already bereft her, and despite the loss of friends and relatives, she persisted in her resolve to name the child after her brother. She was shunned at church by those who had grown up with her. |
| 11487 |
And then nothing happened. The whole island was confuted. The boy grew and prospered. The schoolmaster never ceased averring that it was the brightest lad he had ever seen. Samuel had a splendid constitution, a tremendous grip on life. To everybody's amazement he escaped the usual run of childish afflictions. |
| 11488 |
Barely with two years' sea experience before the mast, he was taken from the forecastle and made a provisional second mate. This occurred in a fever port on the West Coast, and the committee of skippers that examined him agreed that he knew more of the science of navigation than they had remembered or forgotten. |
| 11489 |
It had been the same tenacity of hold. Both had been far visioned. Both had foreseen the transformation of the utter West, the coming of the railroad, and the building of the new empire on the Pacific shore. Frederick Travers thrilled, too, at the locomotive whistle, because, more than any man's, it was his railroad. |
| 11490 |
He had done much for his county, and the railroad was his last and greatest achievement, the capstone of the Travers' effort, the momentous and marvellous thing that had been brought about just yesterday. It had been running two years, and, highest proof of all of his judgment, dividends were in sight. |
| 11491 |
To his brother's eyes, he did not look sick. Older he was of course. The Panama hat did not hide the grey hair, and though indefinably hinting of shrunkenness, the broad shoulders were still broad and erect. As for the young woman with him, Frederick Travers experienced an immediate shock of distaste. |
| 11492 |
Tom had been laughingly acquiescent, but his younger brother was ill at ease, too conscious of the many eyes of his townspeople. He knew only the old Puritan way. Family displays were for the privacy of the family, not for the public. He was glad she had not attempted to kiss him. It was remarkable she had not. |
| 11493 |
Tom was three inches taller, and well greyed was the long, Viking moustache. His was the same eagle like nose as his brother's, save that it was more eagle like, while the blue eyes were pronouncedly so. The lines of the face were deeper, the cheek bones higher, the hollows larger, the weather beat darker. |
| 11494 |
There had been fire there, and the fire still lingered. Around the corners of the eyes were more laughter wrinkles and in the eyes themselves a promise of deadlier seriousness than the younger brother possessed. Frederick was bourgeois in his carriage, but in Tom's was a certain careless ease and distinction. |
| 11495 |
There was great packing into the diggings in those days, and, among other things, father had made a location there. There was rich bench farming land, too. He built a suspension bridge wove the cables on the spot with sailors and materials freighted in from the coast. It cost him twenty thousand dollars. |
| 11496 |
The first day it was open, eight hundred mules crossed at a dollar a head, to say nothing of the toll for foot and horse. That night the river rose. The bridge was one hundred and forty feet above low water mark. Yet the freshet rose higher than that, and swept the bridge away. He'd have made a fortune there otherwise. |
| 11497 |
Its atmosphere was just the sort that he and his daughter would create. But in the days that followed his brother's home coming, all this was changed. Gone was the subdued and ordered repose. Frederick was neither comfortable nor happy. There was an unwonted flurry of life and violation of sanctions and traditions. |
| 11498 |
Before lunch and dinner, Tom, aided and abetted by Polly, mixed an endless variety of drinks, she being particularly adept with strange swivel stick concoctions learned at the ends of the earth. To Frederick, at such times, it seemed that his butler's pantry and dining room had been turned into bar rooms. |
| 11499 |
Polly took great joy in teaching it to her uncle, but when, himself questing for some of this genial flood of life that bathed about his brother, Frederick essayed the song, he noted suppressed glee on the part of his listeners, which increased, through giggles and snickers, to a great outburst of laughter. |
| 11500 |
Nor could he like the way the young women petted his brother, and called him Tom, while it was intolerable to see them twist and pull his buccaneer moustache in mock punishment when his sometimes too jolly banter sank home to them. Such conduct was a profanation to the memory of Isaac and Eliza Travers. |
| 11501 |
For the first time his honourable career of building a county commonwealth had been questioned and by a chit of a girl, the daughter of a wastrel, herself but a flighty, fly away, foreign creature. Conflict between them was inevitable. He had disliked her from the first moment of meeting. She did not have to speak. |
| 11502 |
Her mere presence made him uncomfortable. He felt her unspoken disapproval, though there were times when she did not stop at that. Nor did she mince language. She spoke forthright, like a man, and as no man had ever dared to speak to him. "I wonder if you ever miss what you've missed," she told him. |
| 11503 |
He had never had time to love. He had worked hard. He had been president of the chamber of commerce, mayor of the city, state senator, but he had missed love. At chance moments he had come upon Polly, openly and shamelessly in her father's arms, and he had noted the warmth and tenderness in their eyes. |
| 11504 |
Was he himself loveless as well? In the moment following Polly's remark, he was aware of a great emptiness. It seemed that his hands had grasped ashes, until, glancing into the other room, he saw Tom asleep in the big chair, very grey and aged and tired. He remembered all that he had done, all that he possessed. |
| 11505 |
Infuriated, he left the room. He had never dreamed such potencies resided in music. And then, and he remembered it with shame, he had stolen back outside to listen, and she had known, and once more she had devilled him. When Mary asked him what he thought of Polly's playing, an unbidden contrast leaped to his mind. |
| 11506 |
He knew just how expensive Mary's clothes were, yet he could not blind himself to the fact that Polly's vagabond makeshifts, cheap and apparently haphazard, were always all right and far more successful. Her taste was unerring. Her ways with a shawl were inimitable. With a scarf she performed miracles. |
| 11507 |
Polly's delight flamed like wild fire. Mary found herself the immediate owner of the fan, almost labouring under the fictitious impression that she had conferred an obligation by accepting it. Only a foreign woman could do such things, and Polly was guilty of similar gifts to all the young women. It was her way. |
| 11508 |
He knew that whatever she did her quick generosities, her hot enthusiasms or angers, her birdlike caressing ways was unbelievably sincere. Her extravagant moods at the same time shocked and fascinated him. Her voice was as mercurial as her feelings. There were no even tones, and she talked with her hands. |
| 11509 |
Small wonder Tom had made a failure of life and come home to die. Frederick sat at his own orderly desk taking stock of the difference between him and his brother. Yes, and if it hadn't been for him, there would have been no home for Tom to die in. Frederick cast back for solace through their joint history. |
| 11510 |
And Tom! with a bigger pack of bear dogs ranging the mountains and sleeping out a week at a time. Frederick remembered the final conference in the kitchen Tom, and he, and Eliza Travers, who still cooked and baked and washed dishes on an estate that carried a hundred and eighty thousand dollars in mortgages. |
| 11511 |
I have taken care of others and taken care of myself. The doctors say they have never seen such a constitution in a man of my years. Why, almost half my life is yet before me, and we Travers are a long lived stock. I took care of myself, you see, and I have myself to show for it. I was not a waster. |
| 11512 |
He would see the Yukoners meet, perhaps one just leaving the sick room and one just going in. They would clasp hands, solemnly and silently, outside the door. The newcomer would question with his eyes, and the other would shake his head. And more than once Frederick noted the moisture in their eyes. |
| 11513 |
Then the newcomer would enter and draw his chair up to Tom's, and with jovial voice proceed to plan the outfitting for the exploration of the upper Kuskokeem; for it was there Tom was bound in the spring. Dogs could be had at Larabee's a clean breed, too, with no taint of the soft Southland strains. |
| 11514 |
And despite himself, Frederick sat entranced; and when all the tale was told, he was aware of a queer emptiness. He remembered back to his boyhood, when he had pored over the illustrations in the old fashioned geography. He, too, had dreamed of amazing adventure in far places and desired to go out on the shining ways. |
| 11515 |
And he had planned to go; yet he had known only work and duty. Perhaps that was the difference. Perhaps that was the secret of the strange wisdom in his brother's eyes. For the moment, faint and far, vicariously, he glimpsed the lordly vision his brother had seen. He remembered a sharp saying of Polly's. |
| 11516 |
He had wanted romance, but the work had been placed ready to his hand. He had toiled and moiled, day and night, and been faithful to his trust. Yet he had missed love and the world living that was forever a whisper in his brother. And what had Tom done to deserve it? a wastrel and an idle singer of songs. |
| 11517 |
He had never made the pictures in the geography come true. He had not struck his man, nor lighted his cigar at a match held in a woman's hand. A man could sleep in only one bed at a time Tom had said that. He shuddered as he strove to estimate how many beds he owned, how many blankets he had bought. |
| 11518 |
A look of unbelief and vast surprise dawned on his face. Followed a sharp, convulsive shudder. And in that moment, without warning, he saw Death. He looked clear eyed and steady, as if pondering, then turned to Polly. His hand moved impotently, as if to reach hers, and when he found it, his fingers could not close. |
| 11519 |
He gazed at her with a great smile that slowly faded. The eyes drooped as the life went out, and remained a face of quietude and repose. The ukulele clattered to the floor. One by one they went softly from the room, leaving Polly alone. From the veranda, Frederick watched a man coming up the driveway. |
| 11520 |
Briefly, I was Mr. Sedley Crayden's confidential servant and valet for the last eight months of his life. During that time he wrote a great deal in a manuscript that he kept always beside him, except when he drowsed or slept, at which times he invariably locked it in a desk drawer close to his hand. |
| 11521 |
Nevertheless, from reading it myself, I venture to predict that if an excavation is made in the main basement, somewhere in the vicinity of the foundation of the great chimney, a collection of bones will be found which should very closely resemble those which James Crayden once clothed in mortal flesh. |
| 11522 |
We were old men, and the fires and tempers of youth had long since burned out. We never disagreed even over the most trivial things. Never was there such amity as ours. We were scholars. We cared nothing for the outside world. Our companionship and our books were all satisfying. Never were there such talks as we held. |
| 11523 |
It gave me quite a shock, because I had thought he was quite dispelled. Nevertheless, on looking steadily, I found that he was not there the old familiar trick of the brain. I have dwelt too long on what has happened. I am becoming morbid, and my old indigestion is hinting and muttering. I shall take exercise. |
| 11524 |
Painstakingly I have traced to him the evolution of his belief in the eternity of forms, showing him how it has arisen out of his early infatuation with logic and mathematics. Of course, from that warped, squinting, abstract view point, it is very easy to believe in the eternity of forms. I laughed at the unseen world. |
| 11525 |
Let me tell you. Then you will see. We sat up late that never to be forgotten last night of his existence. It was the old, old discussion the eternity of forms. How many hours and how many nights we had consumed over it! On this night he had been particularly irritating, and all my nerves were screaming. |
| 11526 |
It is an hallucination. That is a conclusion of common sense. I have watched the growth of it. At first it was only in the dimmest light that I could see him sitting in the chair. But as the time passed, and the hallucination, by repetition, strengthened, he was able to appear in the chair under the strongest lights. |
| 11527 |
Of course it was an hallucination. I knew that. I took the poker and went over to it. He did not move nor vanish. The poker cleaved through the non existent substance of the thing and struck the back of the chair. Fabric of fancy, that is all it was. The mark is there on the chair now where the poker struck. |
| 11528 |
And I don't throw fits like lots of the feebs. You see that house up there through the trees. The high grade epilecs all live in it by themselves. They're stuck up because they ain't just ordinary feebs. They call it the club house, and they say they're just as good as anybody outside, only they're sick. |
| 11529 |
They laugh at me, when they ain't busy throwing fits. But I don't care. I never have to be scared about falling down and busting my head. Sometimes they run around in circles trying to find a place to sit down quick, only they don't. Low grade epilecs are disgusting, and high grade epilecs put on airs. |
| 11530 |
They're just feeble in their minds. Let me tell you something funny. There's about a dozen high grade girls that set the tables in the big dining room. Sometimes when they're done ahead of time, they all sit down in chairs in a circle and talk. I sneak up to the door and listen, and I nearly die to keep from laughing. |
| 11531 |
I play in the band and read music. We're all supposed to be feebs in the band except the leader. He's crazy. We know it, but we never talk about it except amongst ourselves. His job is politics, too, and we don't want him to lose it. I play the drum. They can't get along without me in this institution. |
| 11532 |
They fixed up the woodshed and made me sleep there. I had to get up at four o'clock and feed the horses, and milk cows, and carry the milk to the neighbours. They called it chores, but it kept me going all day. I chopped wood, and cleaned chicken houses, and weeded vegetables, and did most everything on the place. |
| 11533 |
We went on past the last hayfield, which was as far as I'd ever gone. Then the woods and brush got so thick, and me not finding any more trail, we followed the cow path down to a big creek and crawled through the fence which showed where the Home land stopped. We climbed up the big hill on the other side of the creek. |
| 11534 |
Lots of feebs are scared of the dark, and Joe said he was going to have a fit right there. Only he didn't. I never saw such an unlucky boy. He never could throw a fit when he wanted to. Some of the feebs can throw fits as quick as a wink. By and by it got real black, and we were hungry, and we didn't have no fire. |
| 11535 |
You see, feebs always have their food ready for them, and that's why it's better to be a feeb than earning your living in the world. And worse than everything was the quiet. There was only one thing worse, and it was the noises. There was all kinds of noises every once in a while, with quiet spells in between. |
| 11536 |
But Miss Striker, who was a nurse in the drooling ward then, just put her arms around me and cried, she was that happy I'd got back. I thought right there that mebbe I'd marry her. But only a month afterward she got married to the plumber that came up from the city to fix the gutter pipes of the new hospital. |
| 11537 |
But the man was undisturbed. His head had slipped from the folded newspaper, and the straggling unkempt hair was matted with the foxtails and burrs of the dry grass on which it lay. He was not a pretty sight. His mouth was open, disclosing a gap in the upper row where several teeth at some time had been knocked out. |
| 11538 |
The man lay in the dry grass of a tiny glade that ran down to the tree fringed bank of the stream. On either side of the glade was a fence, of the old stake and rider type, though little of it was to be seen, so thickly was it overgrown by wild blackberry bushes, scrubby oaks and young madrono trees. |
| 11539 |
There was no fear in it. She stood and looked long and curiously at the forbidding spectacle, and was about to turn back when the sleeper moved restlessly and rolled his hand among the burrs. She noted the sun on his face, and the buzzing flies; her face grew solicitous, and for a moment she debated with herself. |
| 11540 |
So terribly did the teeth crunch and grind together that it seemed they must crash into fragments. A little later he suddenly stiffened out. The hands clenched and the face set with the savage resolution of the dream. The eyelids trembled from the shock of the fantasy, seemed about to open, but did not. |
| 11541 |
Texas born, of the old pioneer stock that was always tough and stubborn, he had been unfortunate. At seventeen years of age he had been apprehended for horse stealing. Also, he had been convicted of stealing seven horses which he had not stolen, and he had been sentenced to fourteen years' imprisonment. |
| 11542 |
Twice he had been shot. For six years on end he had cut a cord and a half of wood each day in a convict lumber camp. Sick or well, he had cut that cord and a half or paid for it under a whip lash knotted and pickled. And Ross Shanklin had not sweetened under the treatment. He had sneered, and cursed, and defied. |
| 11543 |
He had seen convicts, after the guards had manhandled them, crippled in body for life, or left to maunder in mind to the end of their days. He had seen convicts, even his own cell mate, goaded to murder by their keepers, go to the gallows cursing God. He had been in a break in which eleven of his kind were shot down. |
| 11544 |
Five dollars were given him in payment for the years of his labour and the flower of his manhood. And he had worked little in the years that followed. Work he hated and despised. He tramped, begged and stole, lied or threatened as the case might warrant, and drank to besottedness whenever he got the chance. |
| 11545 |
Her ear, by a movement exposed to the sun, was transparent. It seemed he could almost see through it. He was amazed at the delicacy of her colouring, at the blue of her eyes, at the dazzle of the sun touched golden hair. And he was astounded by her fragility. It came to him that she was easily broken. |
| 11546 |
It was his way of measuring the beautiful strangeness of her. He calculated a grip, and not a strong one, that could grind her little fingers to pulp. He thought of fist blows he had given to men's heads, and received on his own head, and felt that the least of them could shatter hers like an eggshell. |
| 11547 |
The vista shown him of human nature was unthinkable. It had been his lot to live in a world of suspicion and hatred, of evil believing and evil doing. It had been his experience, slouching along village streets at nightfall, to see little children, screaming with fear, run from him to their mothers. |
| 11548 |
And it depends on us what kind our habits are going to be. I used to pucker my eyebrows wrinkle them all up, but mamma said I must overcome that habit. She said that when my eyebrows were wrinkled it was an advertisement that my brain was wrinkled inside, and that it wasn't good to have wrinkles in the brain. |
| 11549 |
He looked at her, numb and hungry with the stir of the father love, sorry for his ill temper, puzzling his brain for something to say. She was looking off and away at the clouds, and he devoured her with his eyes. He reached out stealthily and rested one grimy hand on the very edge of her little dress. |
| 11550 |
The silence was more embarrassing than ever. He felt that he could give the world just to touch with his lips that hem of her dress where his hand rested. But he was afraid of frightening her. He fought to find something to say, licking his parched lips and vainly attempting to articulate something, anything. |
| 11551 |
The day seemed suddenly empty. He looked about him irresolutely, then climbed the fence, crossed the bridge, and slouched along the road. He was in a dream. He did not note his feet nor the way they led him. At times he stumbled in the dust filled ruts. A mile farther on, he aroused at the crossroads. |
| 11552 |
Over a blue flannel shirt, set off by a drooping Windsor tie, was a rough and ready coat of large ribbed corduroy. Pants of the same material were thrust into high laced shoes of the sort worn by surveyors, explorers, and linemen. A clerk at a near counter almost petrified at sight of his employer's bizarre rig. |
| 11553 |
Monkton, recently elevated to the managership, gasped, swallowed, and maintained his imperturbable attentiveness. The lady bookkeeper, glancing down from her glass eyrie on the inside balcony, took one look and buried her giggles in the day book. Josiah Childs saw most of all this, but he did not mind. |
| 11554 |
Having spent all his life in cramped New England, where sharpness and shrewdness had been whetted to razor edge on the harsh stone of meagre circumstance, he had found himself abruptly in the loose and free and easy West, where men thought in thousand dollar bills and newsboys dropped dead at sight of copper cents. |
| 11555 |
Josiah Childs bit like fresh acid into the new industrial and business conditions. He had vision. He saw so many ways of making money all at once, that at first his brain was in a whirl. At the same time, being sane and conservative, he had resolutely avoided speculation. The solid and substantial called to him. |
| 11556 |
But he did not lose his head. No detail was overlooked. He spent his spare hours in studying Oakland, its people, how they made their money, and why they spent it and where. He walked the central streets, watching the drift of the buying crowds, even counting them and compiling the statistics in various notebooks. |
| 11557 |
His first store was on lower Filbert, where lived the nail workers. In half a year, three other little corner groceries went out of business while he was compelled to enlarge his premises. He understood the principle of large sales at small profits, of stable qualities of goods, and of a square deal. |
| 11558 |
Each week he set forth one article that sold at a loss to him. This was not an advertised loss, but an absolute loss. His one clerk prophesied impending bankruptcy when butter, that cost Childs thirty cents, was sold for twenty five cents, when twenty two cent coffee was passed across the counter at eighteen cents. |
| 11559 |
Six months later the nail works closed down, and closed down forever. His next store was established on Adeline Street, where lived a comfortable, salaried class. Here, his shelves carried a higher grade and a more diversified stock. By the same old method, he drew his crowd. He established a delicatessen counter. |
| 11560 |
Only one other intermediate move did he make, which was to as near as he could get to the Ashland Park Tract, where every purchaser of land was legally pledged to put up no home that should cost less than four thousand dollars. After that came Broadway. A strange swirl had come in the tide of the crowd. |
| 11561 |
It was the beginning of the end for Broadway, said the realty dealers, when a grocery was established in its erstwhile sacred midst. Later, when the crowd did come back, they said Josiah Childs was lucky. Also, they whispered among themselves that he had cleared at least fifty thousand on the transaction. |
| 11562 |
His horses and delivery wagons were more expensive and finer than any one else's in town. He paid his drivers, and clerks, and bookkeepers higher wages than any other store could dream of paying. As a result, he got more efficient men, and they rendered him and his patrons a more satisfying service. |
| 11563 |
She was strong on old fashioned morality. She was unlovely in her rectitude. Josiah never could quite make out how he had happened to marry her. She was two years his senior, and had long ranked as an old maid She had taught school, and was known by the young generation as the sternest disciplinarian in its experience. |
| 11564 |
He wanted to see the boy, whom he had never seen and who had turned three before his father ever learned he was a father. Then, too, homesickness had begun to crawl in him. In a dozen years he had not seen snow, and he was always wondering if New England fruits and berries had not a finer tang than those of California. |
| 11565 |
Whatever followed would be Agatha's affair. By the time he said good bye to his staff and emerged on the sidewalk, five more of his delivery wagons were backed up and loading. He ran his eye proudly over them, took a last fond glance at the black and gold letters, and signalled the electric car at the corner. |
| 11566 |
Agatha did not tolerate tobacco. He half moved to toss the fresh lighted cigar away, then it was borne in upon him that this was the old East Falls atmosphere overpowering him, and he resolved to combat it, thrusting the cigar between his teeth and gripping it with the firmness of a dozen years of Western resolution. |
| 11567 |
A few steps brought him into the little main street. The chilly, stilted aspect of it shocked him. Everything seemed frosty and pinched, just as the cutting air did after the warm balminess of California. Only several persons, strangers to his recollection, were abroad, and they favoured him with incurious glances. |
| 11568 |
The general store took his breath away. Countless myriads of times he had contrasted it with his own spacious emporium, but now he saw that in justice he had overdone it. He felt certain that it could not accommodate two of his delicatessen counters, and he knew that he could lose all of it in one of his storerooms. |
| 11569 |
Then he became aware that despite his will he had thrown the cigar away. This brought him an awful vision. He saw himself going out in the frost to the woodshed to smoke. His memory of Agatha he found less softened by the lapse of years than it had been when three thousand miles intervened. It was unthinkable. |
| 11570 |
He would put his foot down. He would smoke in the house that very night... in the kitchen, he feebly amended. No, by George, he would smoke now. He would arrive smoking. Mentally imprecating the cold, he exposed his bare hands and lighted another cigar. His manhood seemed to flare up with the match. |
| 11571 |
He would show her who was boss. Right from the drop of the hat he would show her. Josiah Childs had been born in this house. And it was long before he was born that his father had built it. Across the low stone fence, Josiah could see the kitchen porch and door, the connected woodshed, and the several outbuildings. |
| 11572 |
The walk to the kitchen showed signs of recent snow shovelling. That had been one of his tasks. He wondered who did it now, and suddenly remembered that his own son must be twelve. In another moment he would have knocked at the kitchen door, but the skreek of a bucksaw from the woodshed led him aside. |
| 11573 |
She says he always was a good worker, and he's better'n other men she ever saw. He don't smoke, or drink, or swear, or do anything he oughtn't. And he never did. He was always that way, Mom says, and she knew him all her life before ever they got married. He's a very kind man, and never hurts anybody's feelings. |
| 11574 |
Though it was rather mean of her, the thought flashed through him, that she should go on cashing his remittances when she was married to so model and steady working a seafaring husband who brought his wages home. He cudgelled his brains in an effort to remember such a man out of all the East Falls men he had known. |
| 11575 |
Involuntarily, automatically, with a guilty start, he turned his hand back upward so that the cigar was hidden. He felt himself shrinking and shrivelling as she stepped out on the stoop. It was his unchanged wife, the same shrew wrinkles, with the same sour drooping corners to the thin lipped mouth. |
| 11576 |
Surely it was a dream. Very soon he would wake up with a sigh of relief. He rubbed his forehead and paused indecisively. The monotonous complaint of the bucksaw came to his ears. If that boy had any of the old Childs spirit in him, sooner or later he'd run away. Agatha was beyond the endurance of human flesh. |
| 11577 |
Maybe now. Josiah Childs straightened up and threw his shoulders back. The great spirited West, with its daring and its carelessness of consequences when mere obstacles stand in the way of its desire, flamed up in him. He looked at his watch, remembered the time table, and spoke to himself, solemnly, aloud. |
| 11578 |
Across his knees is a thick club, and behind him crouches a woman. At his right and left are two men somewhat resembling him, and like him, bearing wooden clubs. These four face the west, and between them and the bloody rock squat some threescore of cave folk, talking loudly among themselves. It is late afternoon. |
| 11579 |
If a man sing of a deer, so shall he be drawn, it may be, to go forth and slay a deer, or even a moose. And if he sing of his casting stones, it may be that he become more apt in the use thereof. And if he sing of his cave, it may be that he shall defend it more stoutly when Gurr teareth at the boulders. |
| 11580 |
So where shall men find a space for singing? But do ye as ye will: as for me, I will have none of these songs and stars. Be it also known to all the women that if, remembering these wild words of Oan, they do sing them to themselves, or teach them to the young ones, they shall be beaten with brambles. |
| 11581 |
His pale blue eyes were troubled. There was that in them that showed the haunting imminence of something terrible. Doubt was in them, and anxiety and foreboding. The thin lips were thinner than they were made to be, and they seemed to hunger towards the polished frying pan. He sat back and drew forth a pipe. |
| 11582 |
When the pipe was finished he sat on, brooding into the dying flame of the fire. Slowly the worry went out of his eyes and resolve came in. Out of the chaos of his fortunes he had finally achieved a way. But it was not a pretty way. His face had become stern and wolfish, and the thin lips were drawn very tightly. |
| 11583 |
He was foot sore, and limped noticeably as he took his place at the head of the sled. When he put the looped haul rope over his shoulder, and leant his weight against it to start the sled, he winced. His flesh was galled by many days of contact with the haul rope. The trail led along the frozen breast of the Yukon. |
| 11584 |
An hour later he halted. An inviting swale left the river and led off to the right at an acute angle. He left his sled and limped up the swale for half a mile. Between him and the river was three hundred yards of flat ground covered with cottonwoods. He crossed the cottonwoods to the bank of the Yukon. |
| 11585 |
South toward Selkirk he could see the trail widen its sunken length through the snow for over a mile. But to the north, in the direction of Minto, a tree covered out jut in the bank a quarter of a mile away screened the trail from him. He seemed satisfied with the view and returned to the sled the way he had come. |
| 11586 |
The runners clogged and stuck, and he was panting severely ere he had covered the half mile. Night had come on by the time he had pitched his small tent, set up the sheet iron stove, and chopped a supply of firewood. He had no candles, and contented himself with a pot of tea before crawling into his blankets. |
| 11587 |
He made biscuits, and ate them slowly, chewing each mouthful with infinite relish. When he had had three he called a halt. He debated a while, reached for another biscuit, then hesitated. He turned to the part sack of flour, lifted it, and judged its weight. "I'm good for a couple of weeks," he spoke aloud. |
| 11588 |
Again he drew on his mittens, pulled down his ear flaps, took the rifle, and went out to his station on the river bank. He crouched in the snow, himself unseen, and watched. After a few minutes of inaction, the frost began to bite in, and he rested the rifle across his knees and beat his hands back and forth. |
| 11589 |
Every several minutes he came to the edge of the bank and peered up and down the trail, as though by sheer will he could materialise the form of a man upon it. The short morning passed, though it had seemed century long to him, and the trail remained empty. It was easier in the afternoon, watching by the bank. |
| 11590 |
But no whining of dogs, churning of sleds, nor cries of drivers broke the silence. With twilight he returned to the tent, cut a supply of firewood, ate two biscuits, and crawled into his blankets. He slept restlessly, tossing about and groaning; and at midnight he got up and ate another biscuit. Each day grew colder. |
| 11591 |
Four biscuits could not keep up the heat of his body, despite the quantities of hot spruce tea he drank, and he increased his allowance, morning and evening, to three biscuits. In the middle of the day he ate nothing, contenting himself with several cups of excessively weak real tea. This programme became routine. |
| 11592 |
He turned about, rested the rifle in the other notch, and, looking along the sights, swept the trail to the clump of trees behind which it disappeared. He never descended to the trail. A man travelling the trail could have no knowledge of his lurking presence on the bank above. The snow surface was unbroken. |
| 11593 |
There was no place where his tracks left the main trail. As the nights grew longer, his periods of daylight watching of the trail grew shorter. Once a sled went by with jingling bells in the darkness, and with sullen resentment he chewed his biscuits and listened to the sounds. Chance conspired against him. |
| 11594 |
Only an Indian, travelling light, had passed in. Now, in the night, when it was impossible for him to watch, men and dogs and a sled loaded with life, passed out, bound south to the sea and the sun and civilisation. So it was that he conceived of the sled for which he waited. It was loaded with life, his life. |
| 11595 |
His life was fading, fainting, gasping away in the tent in the snow. He was weak from lack of food, and could not travel of himself. But on the sled for which he waited were dogs that would drag him, food that would fan up the flame of his life, money that would furnish sea and sun and civilisation. |
| 11596 |
Because, of this his weakness increased and the cold bit in more savagely, and day by day he watched by the dead trail that would not live for him. At last the scurvy entered upon its next stage. The skin was unable longer to cast off the impurity of the blood, and the result was that the body began to swell. |
| 11597 |
Vainly he fought the cold and strove to maintain his watch on the bank. In his weak condition he was an easy prey, and the frost sank its teeth deep into him before he fled away to the tent and crouched by the fire. His nose and cheeks were frozen and turned black, and his left thumb had frozen inside the mitten. |
| 11598 |
Three sleds went by the first day, and two the second. Once, during each day, he fought his way out to the bank only to succumb and retreat, and each of the two times, within half an hour after he retreated, a sled went by. The cold snap broke, and he was able to remain by the bank once more, and the trail died again. |
| 11599 |
For a week he crouched and watched, and never life stirred along it, not a soul passed in or out. He had cut down to one biscuit night and morning, and somehow he did not seem to notice it. Sometimes he marvelled at the way life remained in him. He never would have thought it possible to endure so much. |
| 11600 |
When the trail fluttered anew with life it was life with which he could not cope. A detachment of the North West police went by, a score of them, with many sleds and dogs; and he cowered down on the bank above, and they were unaware of the menace of death that lurked in the form of a dying man beside the trail. |
| 11601 |
While watching by the bank he got into the habit of taking his mitten off and thrusting the hand inside his shirt so as to rest the thumb in the warmth of his arm pit. A mail carrier came over the trail, and Morganson let him pass. A mail carrier was an important person, and was sure to be missed immediately. |
| 11602 |
But the prey did not come, and he hobbled back to the tent through the darkness, drank quarts of spruce tea and hot water, and went to bed. The next morning circumstance eased its grip on him. As he started to come out of the tent he saw a huge bull moose crossing the swale some four hundred yards away. |
| 11603 |
The animal sprang into his field of vision, with lifted fore legs as it took the leap. He pulled the trigger. With the explosion the moose seemed to somersault in the air. It crashed down to earth in the snow beyond and flurried the snow into dust. Morganson dashed up the hillside at least he started to dash up. |
| 11604 |
He went up more slowly, pausing from time to time to breathe and to steady his reeling senses. At last he crawled over the trunk. The moose lay before him. He sat down heavily upon the carcase and laughed. He buried his face in his mittened hands and laughed some more. He shook the hysteria from him. |
| 11605 |
He drew his hunting knife and worked as rapidly as his injured thumb and weakness would permit him. He did not stop to skin the moose, but quartered it with its hide on. It was a Klondike of meat. When he had finished he selected a piece of meat weighing a hundred pounds, and started to drag it down to the tent. |
| 11606 |
But he did not mind. He was glad that the sled had not passed before the coming of the moose. The moose had changed his plans. Its meat was worth fifty cents a pound, and he was but little more than three miles from Minto. He need no longer wait for the sled load of life. The moose was the sled load of life. |
| 11607 |
He would buy a couple of dogs at Minto, some food and some tobacco, and the dogs would haul him south along the trail to the sea, the sun, and civilisation. He felt hungry. The dull, monotonous ache of hunger had now become a sharp and insistent pang. He hobbled back to the tent and fried a slice of meat. |
| 11608 |
He was aware of an unwonted glow of strength, and went out and chopped some firewood. He followed that up with a slice of meat. Teased on by the food, his hunger grew into an inflammation. It became imperative every little while to fry a slice of meat. He tried smaller slices and found himself frying oftener. |
| 11609 |
In his weak state the making of the cache and storing of the meat was an all afternoon task. He cut young saplings, trimmed them, and tied them together into a tall scaffold. It was not so strong a cache as he would have desired to make, but he had done his best. To hoist the meat to the top was heart breaking. |
| 11610 |
What of it? On the morrow he would be smoking tobacco. He knocked out his pipe, fried a final slice, and went to bed. He had eaten so much he seemed bursting, yet he got out of his blankets and had just one more mouthful of meat. In the morning he awoke as from the sleep of death. In his ears were strange sounds. |
| 11611 |
He sprang from the blankets with an oath. His scurvy ravaged legs gave under him and he winced with the pain. He proceeded more slowly to put on his moccasins and leave the tent. From the cache up the hillside arose a confused noise of snapping and snarling, punctuated by occasional short, sharp yelps. |
| 11612 |
He increased his speed at much expense of pain, and cried loudly and threateningly. He saw the wolves hurrying away through the snow and underbrush, many of them, and he saw the scaffold down on the ground. The animals were heavy with the meat they had eaten, and they were content to slink away and leave the wreckage. |
| 11613 |
The soup grew thinner and thinner as he cracked the bones and boiled them over and over; but the hot water with the essence of the meat in it was good for him, and he was more vigorous than he had been previous to the shooting of the moose. It was in the next week that a new factor entered into Morganson's life. |
| 11614 |
He wanted to know the date. It became an obsession. He pondered and calculated, but his conclusions were rarely twice the same. The first thing in the morning and the last thing at night, and all day as well, watching by the trail, he worried about it. He awoke at night and lay awake for hours over the problem. |
| 11615 |
It was dark when he arrived at Minto, but this served him. No one saw him arrive. Besides, he knew he would have moonlight by which to return. He climbed the bank and pushed open the saloon door. The light dazzled him. The source of it was several candles, but he had been living for long in an unlighted tent. |
| 11616 |
As his eyes adjusted themselves, he saw three men sitting around the stove. They were trail travellers he knew it at once; and since they had not passed in, they were evidently bound out. They would go by his tent next morning. The barkeeper emitted a long and marvelling whistle. "I thought you was dead," he said. |
| 11617 |
It was moonlight, and he hobbled along through the bright, silvery quiet, with a vision of life before him that took the form of a roll of hundred dollar bills. He awoke. It was dark, and he was in his blankets. He had gone to bed in his moccasins and mittens, with the flaps of his cap pulled down over his ears. |
| 11618 |
Sixty below zero was Morganson's estimate of the frost. Not a breath stirred the chill Arctic quiet. He sat up suddenly, his muscular tensity increasing the hurt of the scurvy. He had heard the far sound of a man's voice and the faint whining of dogs. He began beating his hands back and forth against his sides. |
| 11619 |
The rear was brought up by Oleson, the Swede. He was certainly a fine man, Morganson thought, as he looked at the bulk of him in his squirrel skin parka. The men and dogs were silhouetted sharply against the white of the landscape. They had the seeming of two dimension, cardboard figures that worked mechanically. |
| 11620 |
He placed the first finger on the trigger and aimed low. When he fired the first man whirled half around and went down on the trail. In the instant of surprise, Morganson pulled the trigger on John Thompson too low, for the latter staggered and sat down suddenly on the sled. Morganson raised his aim and fired again. |
| 11621 |
He continued to swerve back and forth, while Morganson fired twice in rapid succession and missed both shots. Morganson stopped himself just as he was pulling the trigger again. He had fired six shots. Only one more cartridge remained, and it was in the chamber. It was imperative that he should not miss his last shot. |
| 11622 |
The giant was grotesquely curving and twisting and running at top speed along the trail, the tail of his parka flapping smartly behind. Morganson trained his rifle on the man and with a swaying action followed his erratic flight. Morganson's finger was getting numb. He could scarcely feel the trigger. |
| 11623 |
The leader, a heavy dog, half Newfoundland and half Hudson Bay, stood over the body of the man that lay on the trail, and menaced Morganson with bristling hair and bared fangs. The other seven dogs of the team were likewise bristling and snarling. Morganson approached tentatively, and the team surged towards him. |
| 11624 |
Under the initiative of the leader, the team swung around in its tangled harness. Because of his crippled condition, Morganson could move only slowly. He saw the animals circling around on him and tried to retreat. He almost made it, but the big leader, with a savage lunge, sank its teeth into the calf of his leg. |
| 11625 |
The flesh was slashed and torn, but Morganson managed to drag himself clear. He cursed the brutes fiercely, but could not cow them. They replied with neck bristling and snarling, and with quick lunges against their breastbands. He remembered Oleson, and turned his back upon them and went along the trail. |
| 11626 |
Now his face was like white marble. What with his fair hair and lashes he looked like a carved statue rather than something that had been a man a few minutes before. Morganson pulled off his mittens and searched the body. There was no money belt around the waist next to the skin, nor did he find a gold sack. |
| 11627 |
In a breast pocket he lit on a small wallet. With fingers that swiftly went numb with the frost, he hurried through the contents of the wallet. There were letters with foreign stamps and postmarks on them, and several receipts and memorandum accounts, and a letter of credit for eight hundred dollars. |
| 11628 |
The big leader that had bitten him began snarling and lunging, and was followed in this conduct by the whole team. Morganson wept weakly for a space, and weakly swayed from one side to the other. Then he brushed away the frozen tears that gemmed his lashes. It was a joke. Malicious chance was having its laugh at him. |
| 11629 |
Even John Thompson, with his heaven aspiring whiskers, was laughing at him. He prowled around the sled demented, at times weeping and pleading with the brutes for his life there on the sled, at other times raging impotently against them. Then calmness came upon him. He had been making a fool of himself. |
| 11630 |
He stepped off the trail into the soft snow. Then he felt suddenly giddy and stood still. He was afraid to go on for fear he would fall down. He stood still for a long time, balancing himself on his crippled legs that were trembling violently from weakness. He looked down and saw the snow reddening at his feet. |
| 11631 |
The blood flowed freely as ever. He had not thought the bite was so severe. He controlled his giddiness and stooped to examine the wound. The snow seemed rushing up to meet him, and he recoiled from it as from a blow. He had a panic fear that he might fall down, and after a struggle he managed to stand upright again. |
| 11632 |
Then the white glimmer turned black, and the next he knew he was awakening in the snow where he had fallen. He was no longer giddy. The cobwebs were gone. But he could not get up. There was no strength in his limbs. His body seemed lifeless. By a desperate effort he managed to roll over on his side. |
| 11633 |
The dog was nervous and eager. Sometimes it uttered short, sharp yelps, as though to arouse the man, and surveyed him with ears cocked forward and wagging tail. At last it sat down, pointed its nose upward, and began to howl. Soon all the team was howling. Now that he was down, Morganson was no longer afraid. |
| 11634 |
But he was not afraid. The struggle had gone out of him. When he tried to open his eyes he found that the wet tears had frozen them shut. He did not try to brush the ice away. It did not matter. He had not dreamed death was so easy. He was even angry that he had struggled and suffered through so many weary weeks. |
| 11635 |
A window of oiled paper furnished light. The lower portion of the paper, on the inside, was coated an inch deep with the frozen moisture of the men's breath. They played a momentous rubber of whist, for the pair that lost was to dig a fishing hole through the seven feet of ice and snow that covered the Yukon. |
| 11636 |
The man who entered was a big, broad shouldered Swede, though his nationality was not discernible until he had removed his ear flapped cap and thawed away the ice which had formed on beard and moustache and which served to mask his face. While engaged in this, the men at the table played out the hand. |
| 11637 |
All his movements were quick and precise. He did not fumble his cards. The eyes were black, direct, and piercing, with the trick of seeming to look beneath the surfaces of things. His hands, slender, fine and nervous, appeared made for delicate work, and to the most casual eye they conveyed an impression of strength. |
| 11638 |
Morning found the unprecedented cold snap broken. Linday estimated the temperature at fifteen below and rising. Daw was worried. That day would see them in the canyon, he explained, and if the spring thaw set in the canyon would run open water. The walls of the canyon were hundreds to thousands of feet high. |
| 11639 |
They could be climbed, but the going would be slow. Camped well in the dark and forbidding gorge, over their pipe that evening they complained of the heat, and both agreed that the thermometer must be above zero the first time in six months. "Nobody ever heard tell of a panther this far north," Daw was saying. |
| 11640 |
Both listened. From far off came a vague disturbance that increased to a vast and sombre roaring. As it neared, ever increasing, riding the mountain tops as well as the canyon depths, bowing the forest before it, bending the meagre, crevice rooted pines on the walls of the gorge, they knew it for what it was. |
| 11641 |
Then, through the darkness, for a night of travel, they churned out on the trail Daw had broken nearly a week before. And all through the night the Chinook roared and they urged the weary dogs and spurred their own jaded muscles. Twelve hours of it they made, and stopped for breakfast after twenty seven hours on trail. |
| 11642 |
In two hours the snow level sank three inches. From every side, faintly heard and near, under the voice of the spring wind, came the trickling of hidden waters. The Little Peco, strengthened by the multitudinous streamlets, rose against the manacles of winter, riving the ice with crashings and snappings. |
| 11643 |
The glare from the black eyes prevented him from repeating the suggestion. As early as midday they received definite warning of the beginning of the end. Cakes of ice, borne downward in the rapid current, began to thunder beneath the ice on which they stood. The dogs whimpered anxiously and yearned for the bank. |
| 11644 |
There were days of high temperature and delirium; days of heart sinking when Strang's pulse was barely perceptible; days when he lay conscious, eyes weary and drawn, the sweat of pain on his face. Linday was indefatigable, cruelly efficient, audacious and fortunate, daring hazard after hazard and winning. |
| 11645 |
But it was without heaviness, so easy that it invested him with a peculiar grace, so easy that to the eye the speed was deceptive. It was the killing pace of which Tom Daw had complained. Linday toiled behind, sweating and panting; from time to time, when the ground favoured, making short runs to keep up. |
| 11646 |
Daw tells me that last year you went over, down to the middle fork, and back again, in three days. He said you nearly killed him, too. You are to wait here and camp to night. I'll send Daw along with the camp outfit. Then it's up to you to go to the middle fork and back in the same time as last year. |
| 11647 |
You remember the story I told you of the elixir. I failed to tell you the end. And when she had anointed his eyes and was about to depart, it chanced she saw in the mirror that her beauty had been restored to her. And he opened his eyes, and cried out with joy at the sight of her beauty, and folded her in his arms. |
| 11648 |
She folded both her own hands about his. "Dear, strong hand," she murmured, and bent and kissed it. He jerked it away, thrust the canoe out from the bank, dipped the paddle in the swift rush of the current, and entered the head of the riffle where the water poured glassily ere it burst into a white madness of foam. |
| 11649 |
I found the cabby and a policeman with their heads together, but the latter, after looking me over sharply, and particularly scrutinizing the bundle under my arm, turned away and left the cabby to wax mutinous by himself. And not a step would he budge till I paid him the seven shillings and sixpence owing him. |
| 11650 |
And here, while waiting the coming of Johnny Upright, let me explain my errand. While living, eating, and sleeping with the people of the East End, it was my intention to have a port of refuge, not too far distant, into which could run now and again to assure myself that good clothes and cleanliness still existed. |
| 11651 |
A lodging where my property would be safe implied a landlady apt to be suspicious of a gentleman leading a double life; while a landlady who would not bother her head over the double life of her lodgers would imply lodgings where property was unsafe. To avoid the dilemma was what had brought me to Johnny Upright. |
| 11652 |
In the low wages of his father, and of other men in the same walk in life, he found sufficient reason for branding wife and children as encumbrances and causes of masculine misery. An unconscious hedonist, utterly unmoral and materialistic, he sought the greatest possible happiness for himself, and found it in drink. |
| 11653 |
From the moment of his birth, all the forces of his environment had tended to harden him, and he viewed his wretched, inevitable future with a callousness and unconcern I could not shake. And yet he was not a bad man. He was not inherently vicious and brutal. He had normal mentality, and a more than average physique. |
| 11654 |
They are the stones by the builder rejected. There is no place for them, in the social fabric, while all the forces of society drive them downward till they perish. At the bottom of the Abyss they are feeble, besotted, and imbecile. If they reproduce, the life is so cheap that perforce it perishes of itself. |
| 11655 |
The work of the world goes on above them, and they do not care to take part in it, nor are they able. Moreover, the work of the world does not need them. There are plenty, far fitter than they, clinging to the steep slope above, and struggling frantically to slide no more. In short, the London Abyss is a vast shambles. |
| 11656 |
The content of these people is manifestly great, for, relative to the wretchedness that encompasses them, they are well off. But at the best, it is a dull, animal happiness, the content of the full belly. The dominant note of their lives is materialistic. They are stupid and heavy, without imagination. |
| 11657 |
The satisfied torpor in which they are sunk is the deadly inertia that precedes dissolution. There is no progress, and with them not to progress is to fall back and into the Abyss. In their own lives they may only start to fall, leaving the fall to be completed by their children and their children's children. |
| 11658 |
The husband, in order to obtain employment, had to belong to the union, which collected one shilling and sixpence from him each week. Also, when strikes were afoot and he chanced to be working, he had at times been compelled to pay as high as seventeen shillings into the union's coffers for the relief fund. |
| 11659 |
A spawn of children cluttered the slimy pavement, for all the world like tadpoles just turned frogs on the bottom of a dry pond. In a narrow doorway, so narrow that perforce we stepped over her, sat a woman with a young babe, nursing at breasts grossly naked and libelling all the sacredness of motherhood. |
| 11660 |
In the adjoining room lived a woman and six children. In another vile hole lived a widow, with an only son of sixteen who was dying of consumption. The woman hawked sweetmeats on the street, I was told, and more often failed than not to supply her son with the three quarts of milk he daily required. |
| 11661 |
It is a law of the powers that be that the homeless shall not sleep by night. On the pavement, by the portico of Christ's Church, where the stone pillars rise toward the sky in a stately row, were whole rows of men lying asleep or drowsing, and all too deep sunk in torpor to rouse or be made curious by our intrusion. |
| 11662 |
For the benefit of gently nurtured and innocent folk, let me explain what a ward is. It is a building where the homeless, bedless, penniless man, if he be lucky, may casually rest his weary bones, and then work like a navvy next day to pay for it. My second attempt to break into the casual ward began more auspiciously. |
| 11663 |
A little thing, it could only be traced back to first causes: perhaps the lieutenant's breakfast had not agreed with him; or he had been up late the night before; or his debts were pressing; or the commander had spoken brusquely to him. The point is, that on this particular day the lieutenant was irritable. |
| 11664 |
When I was a boy it was our boys' code to fight like little demons should such an insult be given our mothers; and many men have died in my part of the world for calling other men this name. However, the lieutenant called the sailor this name. At that moment it chanced the sailor had an iron lever or bar in his hands. |
| 11665 |
It is his business to rout you out. It is a law of the powers that be that you shall be routed out. But when the dawn came, the nightmare over, you would hale you home to refresh yourself, and until you died you would tell the story of your adventure to groups of admiring friends. It would grow into a mighty story. |
| 11666 |
The Carter was hard put to keep the pace at which we walked (he told me that he had eaten nothing that day), but the Carpenter, lean and hungry, his grey and ragged overcoat flapping mournfully in the breeze, swung on in a long and tireless stride which reminded me strongly of the plains wolf or coyote. |
| 11667 |
Or he may have thought I was inveigling him into the commission of some desperate crime. Anyway, he was frightened. It will be remembered, at the outset, that I sewed a pound inside my stoker's singlet under the armpit. This was my emergency fund, and I was now called upon to use it for the first time. |
| 11668 |
To head for the coast and bend every effort to get away on a ship. To go to work, if possible, and scrape together a pound or so, with which I might bribe some steward or underling to give me chance to work my passage. They envied me my youth and strength, which would sooner or later get me out of the country. |
| 11669 |
Now the virtue and the joy of this act lies in that it was service of love, not hire. The carter was poor, and the man knew it; and the man was standing in the spike line, and the carter knew it; and the man had done the little act, and the carter had thanked him, even as you and I would have done and thanked. |
| 11670 |
As she talked to him, he reached forward, caught the one stray wisp of the white hair that was flying wild, deftly twirled it between his fingers, and tucked it back properly behind her ear. From all of which one may conclude many things. He certainly liked her well enough to wish her to be neat and tidy. |
| 11671 |
When I asked him what he thought I, a greenhorn, might expect to earn at "hopping," he sized me up, and said that it all depended. Plenty of people were too slow to pick hops and made a failure of it. A man, to succeed, must use his head and be quick with his fingers, must be exceeding quick with his fingers. |
| 11672 |
The woman, because she was a woman, was admitted into the spike; but he was too late, and, separated from his mate, was turned away to tramp the streets all night. The street on which we stood, from wall to wall, was barely twenty feet wide. The sidewalks were three feet wide. It was a residence street. |
| 11673 |
And each day and every day, from one in the afternoon till six, our ragged spike line is the principal feature of the view commanded by their front doors and windows. One workman sat in his door directly opposite us, taking his rest and a breath of air after the toil of the day. His wife came to chat with him. |
| 11674 |
About our feet played the children of the neighbourhood. To them our presence was nothing unusual. We were not an intrusion. We were as natural and ordinary as the brick walls and stone curbs of their environment. They had been born to the sight of the spike line, and all their brief days they had seen it. |
| 11675 |
Many hours passed before I won to sleep. It was only seven in the evening, and the voices of children, in shrill outcry, playing in the street, continued till nearly midnight. The smell was frightful and sickening, while my imagination broke loose, and my skin crept and crawled till I was nearly frantic. |
| 11676 |
But morning came, with a six o'clock breakfast of bread and skilly, which I gave away, and we were told off to our various tasks. Some were set to scrubbing and cleaning, others to picking oakum, and eight of us were convoyed across the street to the Whitechapel Infirmary where we were set at scavenger work. |
| 11677 |
They clutter the earth with their presence, and are better out of the way. Broken by hardship, ill fed, and worse nourished, they are always the first to be struck down by disease, as they are likewise the quickest to die. They feel, themselves, that the forces of society tend to hurl them out of existence. |
| 11678 |
The streets grew very quiet and lonely after the theatre crowd had gone home. Only were to be seen the ubiquitous policemen, flashing their dark lanterns into doorways and alleys, and men and women and boys taking shelter in the lee of buildings from the wind and rain. Piccadilly, however, was not quite so deserted. |
| 11679 |
The homeless folk came away from the protection of the buildings, and slouched up and down and everywhere, in order to rush up the circulation and keep warm. One old woman, between fifty and sixty, a sheer wreck, I had noticed earlier in the night standing in Piccadilly, not far from Leicester Square. |
| 11680 |
And so, dear soft people, should you ever visit London Town, and see these men asleep on the benches and in the grass, please do not think they are lazy creatures, preferring sleep to work. Know that the powers that be have kept them walking all the night long, and that in the day they have nowhere else to sleep. |
| 11681 |
Old men, young men, all manner of men, and boys to boot, and all manner of boys. Some were drowsing standing up; half a score of them were stretched out on the stone steps in most painful postures, all of them sound asleep, the skin of their bodies showing red through the holes, and rents in their rags. |
| 11682 |
They were permitted to go inside, have a wash, and sit down and rest until breakfast, while we waited for the same breakfast on the street. The tickets had been distributed the previous night on the streets and along the Embankment, and the possession of them was not a matter of merit, but of chance. |
| 11683 |
For over two hours I had waited outside, and for over another hour I waited in this packed courtyard. I had had nothing to eat all night, and I was weak and faint, while the smell of the soiled clothes and unwashed bodies, steaming from pent animal heat, and blocked solidly about me, nearly turned my stomach. |
| 11684 |
We were weak, famished, and exhausted from our night's hardship and lack of sleep, and yet there we stood, and stood, and stood, without rhyme or reason. Sailors were very plentiful in this crowd. It seemed to me that one man in four was looking for a ship, and I found at least a dozen of them to be American sailors. |
| 11685 |
It arrived, not on plates, but in paper parcels. I did not have all I wanted, and I am sure that no man there had all he wanted, or half of what he wanted or needed. I gave part of my bread to the tramp royal who was waiting for Buffalo Bill, and he was as ravenous at the end as he was in the beginning. |
| 11686 |
Nor was that all. No sooner was breakfast over (and it was over almost as quickly as it takes to tell), than the tired heads began to nod and droop, and in five minutes half of us were sound asleep. There were no signs of our being dismissed, while there were unmistakable signs of preparation for a meeting. |
| 11687 |
I kept my temper, but I went over the facts again, and clearly and concisely demonstrated to him how unjust he was and how he had perverted the facts. As I manifested no signs of backing down (and I am sure my eyes were beginning to snap), he led me to the rear of the building where, in an open court, stood a tent. |
| 11688 |
No bath, no shave for them, no clean white sheets and all clothes off, and fifteen hours' straight sleep. Services over, it was the weary streets again, the problem of a crust of bread ere night, and the long sleepless night in the streets, and the pondering of the problem of how to obtain a crust at dawn. |
| 11689 |
And he will appoint them unto him for captains of thousands, and captains of fifties; and he will set some to plough his ground, and to reap his harvest, and to make his instruments of war, and the instruments of his chariots. And he will take your daughters to be confectionaries, and to be cooks, and to be bakers. |
| 11690 |
And he will take a tenth of your seed, and of your vineyards, and give to his officers, and to his servants. And he will take your menservants, and your maidservants, and your goodliest young men, and your asses, and put them to his work. He will take a tenth of your flocks; and ye shall be his servants. |
| 11691 |
Between them they stowed away a prodigious amount of food, this man and woman, and it was not till I had duplicated and triplicated their original orders that they showed signs of easing down. Once she reached across and felt the texture of my coat and shirt, and remarked upon the good clothes the Yanks wore. |
| 11692 |
At three in the morning I strolled up the Embankment. It was a gala night for the homeless, for the police were elsewhere; and each bench was jammed with sleeping occupants. There were as many women as men, and the great majority of them, male and female, were old. Occasionally a boy was to be seen. |
| 11693 |
They drive away the ass of the fatherless, they take the widow's ox for a pledge. They turn the needy out of the way; the poor of the earth hide themselves together. Behold, as wild asses in the desert they go forth to their work, seeking diligently for meat; the wilderness yieldeth them food for their children. |
| 11694 |
It was not a room. Courtesy to the language will no more permit it to be called a room than it will permit a hovel to be called a mansion. It was a den, a lair. Seven feet by eight were its dimensions, and the ceiling was so low as not to give the cubic air space required by a British soldier in barracks. |
| 11695 |
A crazy couch, with ragged coverlets, occupied nearly half the room. A rickety table, a chair, and a couple of boxes left little space in which to turn around. Five dollars would have purchased everything in sight. The floor was bare, while the walls and ceiling were literally covered with blood marks and splotches. |
| 11696 |
Whereupon the doctor became wroth, and did not come near him for nine days. Then his bed was tilted up so that his feet and legs were elevated. At once dropsy appeared in the body, and Dan Cullen contended that the thing was done in order to run the water down into his body from his legs and kill him more quickly. |
| 11697 |
He demanded his discharge, though they told him he would die on the stairs, and dragged himself, more dead than alive, to the cobbler's shop. At the moment of writing this, he is dying at the Temperance Hospital, into which place his staunch friend, the cobbler, moved heaven and earth to have him admitted. |
| 11698 |
We worked nimbly, and as fast as the women themselves, though their bins filled more rapidly because of their swarming children, each of which picked with two hands almost as fast as we picked. "Don'tcher pick too clean, it's against the rules," one of the women informed us; and we took the tip and were grateful. |
| 11699 |
And as I talked to them, all the subtleties and complexities of this tremendous machine civilisation vanished away. It seemed that I went down through the skin and the flesh to the naked soul of it, and in Thomas Mugridge and his old woman gripped hold of the essence of this remarkable English breed. |
| 11700 |
John Priestley, charged with assaulting the Rev. Leslie Graham. Defendant, who was drunk, was wheeling a perambulator and pushed it in front of a lorry, with the result that the perambulator was overturned and the baby in it thrown out. The lorry passed over the perambulator, but the baby was uninjured. |
| 11701 |
Prisoner had been kicking his wife, and also assaulting another woman who protested against his brutality. The constable tried to persuade him to go inside his house, but prisoner suddenly turned upon him, knocking him down by a blow on the face, kicking him as he lay on the ground, and attempting to strangle him. |
| 11702 |
He's more interested in them than in yours, and he can't see them starve. So he cuts the price of labour and out you go. But you mustn't blame him, poor devil. He can't help it. Wages always come down when two men are after the same job. That's the fault of competition, not of the man who cuts the price. |
| 11703 |
They find themselves, by tens of thousands, in desperate straits in the army of the unemployed. There is a general decline in wages throughout the land, which, giving rise to labour disputes and strikes, is taken advantage of by the unemployed, who gladly pick up the tools thrown down by the strikers. |
| 11704 |
They give the men far less for their labour than do the capitalistic employers. The wage for the same amount of labour, performed for a private employer, would buy them better beds, better food, more good cheer, and, above all, greater freedom. As I say, it is an extravagance for a man to patronise a casual ward. |
| 11705 |
The mortality is excessive, but, even then, they die far too lingering deaths. Here, then, we have the construction of the Abyss and the shambles. Throughout the whole industrial fabric a constant elimination is going on. The inefficient are weeded out and flung downward. Various things constitute inefficiency. |
| 11706 |
And then the thing happened, and he went into the workhouse. The alternative to the workhouse is to go home to Ireland and burden his friends for the rest of his life. Comment is superfluous. It must be understood that efficiency is not determined by the workers themselves, but is determined by the demand for labour. |
| 11707 |
Some would emigrate, but the rest would rush their labour into the remaining industries. A general shaking up of the workers from top to bottom would result; and when equilibrium had been restored, the number of the inefficients at the bottom of the Abyss would have been increased by hundreds of thousands. |
| 11708 |
They do not know what life is. They drag out a subterbestial existence until mercifully released by death. Before descending to the fouler depths, let the case of the telephone girls be cited. Here are clean, fresh English maids, for whom a higher standard of living than that of the beasts is absolutely necessary. |
| 11709 |
The sick man's lungs were in the last stages of decay. He coughed and expectorated constantly, the woman ceasing from her work to assist him in his paroxysms. The silken fluff from the ties was not good for his sickness; nor was his sickness good for the ties, and the handlers and wearers of the ties yet to come. |
| 11710 |
East London is such a ghetto, where the rich and the powerful do not dwell, and the traveller cometh not, and where two million workers swarm, procreate, and die. It must not be supposed that all the workers of London are crowded into the East End, but the tide is setting strongly in that direction. |
| 11711 |
This family consisted of five daughters, aged twenty, seventeen, eight, four, and an infant; and three sons, aged fifteen, thirteen, and twelve. In Whitechapel a man and his wife and their three daughters, aged sixteen, eight, and four, and two sons, aged ten and twelve years, occupied a smaller room. |
| 11712 |
She has six children to support, and the rent of her house was fourteen shillings per week. She gets her living by letting the house to lodgers and doing a day's washing or charring. That woman, with tears in her eyes, told me that the landlord had increased the rent from fourteen shillings to eighteen shillings. |
| 11713 |
They become indecent and bestial. When they kill, they kill with their hands, and then stupidly surrender themselves to the executioners. There is no splendid audacity about their transgressions. They gouge a mate with a dull knife, or beat his head in with an iron pot, and then sit down and wait for the police. |
| 11714 |
Of course to London, where work was thought to be plentiful. They had a little savings, and they thought they could get two decent rooms to live in. But the inexorable land question met them in London. They tried the decent courts for lodgings, and found that two rooms would cost ten shillings a week. |
| 11715 |
The people themselves are dirty, while any attempt at cleanliness becomes howling farce, when it is not pitiful and tragic. Strange, vagrant odours come drifting along the greasy wind, and the rain, when it falls, is more like grease than water from heaven. The very cobblestones are scummed with grease. |
| 11716 |
Here lives a population as dull and unimaginative as its long grey miles of dingy brick. Religion has virtually passed it by, and a gross and stupid materialism reigns, fatal alike to the things of the spirit and the finer instincts of life. It used to be the proud boast that every Englishman's home was his castle. |
| 11717 |
The father returning from work asks his child in the street where her mother is; and back the answer comes, "In the buildings." A new race has sprung up, a street people. They pass their lives at work and in the streets. They have dens and lairs into which to crawl for sleeping purposes, and that is all. |
| 11718 |
When they have nothing else to do, they ruminate as a cow ruminates. They are to be met with everywhere, standing on curbs and corners, and staring into vacancy. Watch one of them. He will stand there, motionless, for hours, and when you go away you will leave him still staring into vacancy. It is most absorbing. |
| 11719 |
A man eats in the midst of the debris left by his predecessor, and dribbles his own scraps about him and on the floor. In rush times, in such places, I have positively waded through the muck and mess that covered the floor, and I have managed to eat because I was abominably hungry and capable of eating anything. |
| 11720 |
Of course, he will pay only three or four pence for his; which is, however, as much as I paid, for I would be earning six shillings to his two or two and a half. On the other hand, though, and in return, I would turn out an amount of work in the course of the day that would put to shame the amount he turned out. |
| 11721 |
And this is applicable to the working populations of both countries. The ocean greyhounds have to pay for speed and steam, and so does the workman. But if the workman is not able to pay for it, he will not have the speed and steam, that is all. The proof of it is when the English workman comes to America. |
| 11722 |
It was four in the afternoon, and she looked faint and sick. The woman hesitated an instant, then brought a large plate of "stewed lamb and young peas." I was eating a plate of it myself, and it is my judgment that the lamb was mutton and that the peas might have been younger without being youthful. |
| 11723 |
However, the point is, the dish was sold at sixpence, and the proprietress gave it for a penny, demonstrating anew the old truth that the poor are the most charitable. The old woman, profuse in her gratitude, took a seat on the other side of the narrow table and ravenously attacked the smoking stew. |
| 11724 |
I went to the top of the building and down again, passing several floors filled with sleeping men. The "cabins" were the best accommodation, each cabin allowing space for a tiny bed and room alongside of it in which to undress. The bedding was clean, and with neither it nor the bed do I find any fault. |
| 11725 |
The mortality in South Africa and the Philippines fades away to insignificance. Here, in the heart of peace, is where the blood is being shed; and here not even the civilised rules of warfare obtain, for the women and children and babes in the arms are killed just as ferociously as the men are killed. |
| 11726 |
Depression in trade also plays an important part in hurling the workers into the Abyss. With a week's wages between a family and pauperism, a month's enforced idleness means hardship and misery almost indescribable, and from the ravages of which the victims do not always recover when work is to be had again. |
| 11727 |
This occurred eighteen months ago. For eighteen months he fought the big fight. He got rooms in a little house in Batavia Road, but could not make both ends meet. Steady work could not be obtained. He struggled manfully at casual employment of all sorts, his wife and four children starving before his eyes. |
| 11728 |
This was three months ago, and then there was absolutely no food at all. They made no complaint, spoke no word; but poor folk know. The housewives of Batavia Road sent them food, but so respectable were the Cavillas that the food was sent anonymously, mysteriously, so as not to hurt their pride. The thing had happened. |
| 11729 |
They have most active little imaginations. Their capacity for projecting themselves into the realm of romance and fantasy is remarkable. A joyous life is romping in their blood. They delight in music, and motion, and colour, and very often they betray a startling beauty of face and form under their filth and rags. |
| 11730 |
She died as a wild animal dies. Fresh in my mind is the picture of a boy in the dock of an East End police court. His head was barely visible above the railing. He was being proved guilty of stealing two shillings from a woman, which he had spent, not for candy and cakes and a good time, but for food. |
| 11731 |
And he adds: "It is because London has largely shut her children in a maze of streets and houses and robbed them of their rightful inheritance in sky and field and brook, that they grow up to be men and women physically unfit." He tells of a member of his congregation who let a basement room to a married couple. |
| 11732 |
But there is no need further to multiply instances. In London the slaughter of the innocents goes on on a scale more stupendous than any before in the history of the world. And equally stupendous is the callousness of the people who believe in Christ, acknowledge God, and go to church regularly on Sunday. |
| 11733 |
For the rest of the week they riot about on the rents and profits which come to them from the East End stained with the blood of the children. Also, at times, so peculiarly are they made, they will take half a million of these rents and profits and send it away to educate the black boys of the Soudan. |
| 11734 |
He slaved all day, and at night he came home and cooked and cared for us. He was father and mother, both. He did his best, but we didn't have enough to eat. We rarely saw meat, and then of the worst. And it is not good for growing kiddies to sit down to a dinner of bread and a bit of cheese, and not enough of it. |
| 11735 |
He had been the eldest of five children, with a mother and no father. Being the eldest, he had starved and worked as a child to put bread into the mouths of his little brothers and sisters. Not once in three months did he ever taste meat. He never knew what it was to have his hunger thoroughly appeased. |
| 11736 |
A brief examination of such a dwelling will serve to bring to light one important cause of drunkenness. Here the family arises in the morning, dresses, and makes its toilet, father, mother, sons, and daughters, and in the same room, shoulder to shoulder (for the room is small), the wife and mother cooks the breakfast. |
| 11737 |
It is unhealthy. Certainly it is, but everything else about their lives is unhealthy, while this brings the oblivion that nothing else in their lives can bring. It even exalts them, and makes them feel that they are finer and better, though at the same time it drags them down and makes them more beastly than ever. |
| 11738 |
They have worked faithfully, but beyond relieving an infinitesimal fraction of misery and collecting a certain amount of data which might otherwise have been more scientifically and less expensively collected, they have achieved nothing. As some one has said, they do everything for the poor except get off their backs. |
| 11739 |
She is being robbed. Somebody is on her back, and a yearning for the Beautiful and True and Good will not lighten her burden. They do nothing for her, these dabblers; and what they do not do for the mother, undoes at night, when the child comes home, all that they have done for the child in the day. |
| 11740 |
This is equivalent to a lowering of the standard of living. In the competition for a chance to work, the man with a lower standard of living will underbid the man with a higher standard. And a small group of such thrifty workers in any overcrowded industry will permanently lower the wages of that industry. |
| 11741 |
If every worker in England should heed the preachers of thrift and cut expenditure in half, the condition of there being more men to work than there is work to do would swiftly cut wages in half. And then none of the workers of England would be thrifty, for they would be living up to their diminished incomes. |
| 11742 |
Their clothes, largely made from the skins of animals, are warm. They always have fuel for their fires, likewise timber for their houses, which they build partly underground, and in which they lie snugly during the periods of intense cold. In the summer they live in tents, open to every breeze and cool. |
| 11743 |
The greater number of them are vilely housed, do not have enough fuel to keep them warm, and are insufficiently clothed. A constant number never have any houses at all, and sleep shelterless under the stars. Many are to be found, winter and summer, shivering on the streets in their rags. They have good times and bad. |
| 11744 |
In these the average Englishman does not participate. If he shall be forever unable to participate, then Civilisation falls. There is no reason for the continued existence of an artifice so avowed a failure. But it is impossible that men should have reared this tremendous artifice in vain. It stuns the intellect. |
| 11745 |
Civilisation must be compelled to better the lot of the average men. This accepted, it becomes at once a question of business management. Things profitable must be continued; things unprofitable must be eliminated. Either the Empire is a profit to England, or it is a loss. If it is a loss, it must be done away with. |
| 11746 |
If it is a profit, it must be managed so that the average man comes in for a share of the profit. If the struggle for commercial supremacy is profitable, continue it. If it is not, if it hurts the worker and makes his lot worse than the lot of a savage, then fling foreign markets and industrial empire overboard. |
| 11747 |
Set them to work ploughing game preserves and planting potatoes. If they are profitable, continue them by all means, but let it be seen to that the average Englishman shares somewhat in the profits they produce by working at no occupation. In short, society must be reorganised, and a capable management put at the head. |
| 11748 |
But the political empire under which they are nominally assembled is perishing. The political machine known as the British Empire is running down. In the hands of its management it is losing momentum every day. It is inevitable that this management, which has grossly and criminally mismanaged, shall be swept away. |
| 11749 |
The food this managing class eats, the wine it drinks, the shows it makes, and the fine clothes it wears, are challenged by eight million mouths which have never had enough to fill them, and by twice eight million bodies which have never been sufficiently clothed and housed. There can be no mistake. |
| 11750 |
Carquinez had relaxed finally. He stole a glance at the rattling windows, looked upward at the beamed roof, and listened for a moment to the savage roar of the south easter as it caught the bungalow in its bellowing jaws. Then he held his glass between him and the fire and laughed for joy through the golden wine. |
| 11751 |
He was an artist, it is true, always an artist; but somehow, sober, the high pitch and lilt went out of his thought processes and he was prone to be as deadly dull as a British Sunday not dull as other men are dull, but dull when measured by the sprightly wight that Monte Carquinez was when he was really himself. |
| 11752 |
This latter stood for the red flag (he had once lived with the socialists of Paris), and it symbolized the blood and brotherhood of man. Also, he had never been known to wear anything on his head save a leather banded sombrero. It was even rumoured that he had been born with this particular piece of headgear. |
| 11753 |
She kissed once, and once only, and kisses she would have no more. Not that she found kisses were not sweet, but that she feared with repetition they would cloy. Satiety again! She tried to play without stakes against the gods. Now this is contrary to a rule of the game the gods themselves have made. |
| 11754 |
And never was there such a marriage. They kept their secret to themselves. I did not know, then. Their rapture's warmth did not cool. Their love burned with increasing brightness. Never was there anything like it. The time passed, the months, the years, and ever the flame winged lute player grew more resplendent. |
| 11755 |
They had quickened him with denial. And by denial they drove him on till he was all aburst with desire. And the flame winged lute player fanned them with his warm wings till they were all but swooning. It was the very delirium of Love, and it continued undiminished and increasing through the weeks and months. |
| 11756 |
Love was gone. They would never yearn and burn again. For them there was nothing left no more tremblings and flutterings and delicious anguishes, no more throbbing and pulsing, and sighing and song. Desire was dead. It had died in the night, on a couch cold and unattended; nor had they witnessed its passing. |
| 11757 |
She was a sad eyed, tired faced woman, and she had grown used to this task, which she repeated every day of her life. She got a grip on the bedclothes and tried to strip them down; but the boy, ceasing his punching, clung to them desperately. In a huddle, at the foot of the bed, he still remained covered. |
| 11758 |
The boy opposed her. She braced herself. Hers was the superior weight, and the boy and bedding gave, the former instinctively following the latter in order to shelter against the chill of the room that bit into his body. As he toppled on the edge of the bed it seemed that he must fall head first to the floor. |
| 11759 |
But consciousness fluttered up in him. He righted himself and for a moment perilously balanced. Then he struck the floor on his feet. On the instant his mother seized him by the shoulders and shook him. Again his fists struck out, this time with more force and directness. At the same time his eyes opened. |
| 11760 |
When he had got into his clothes, he went out into the kitchen. His tread was very heavy for so thin and light a boy. His legs dragged with their own weight, which seemed unreasonable because they were such skinny legs. He drew a broken bottomed chair to the table. "Johnny," his mother called sharply. |
| 11761 |
It was a greasy, filthy sink. A smell came up from the outlet. He took no notice of it. That a sink should smell was to him part of the natural order, just as it was a part of the natural order that the soap should be grimy with dish water and hard to lather. Nor did he try very hard to make it lather. |
| 11762 |
The hot and muddy liquid went by the name of coffee. Johnny thought it was coffee and excellent coffee. That was one of the few of life's illusions that remained to him. He had never drunk real coffee in his life. In addition to the bread, there was a small piece of cold pork. His mother refilled his cup with coffee. |
| 11763 |
She believed she had deceived him, but he had noted her sleight of hand. Nevertheless, he took the bread shamelessly. He had a philosophy that his mother, because of her chronic sickliness, was not much of an eater anyway. She saw that he was chewing the bread dry, and reached over and emptied her coffee cup into his. |
| 11764 |
A distant whistle, prolonged and shrieking, brought both of them to their feet. She glanced at the tin alarm clock on the shelf. The hands stood at half past five. The rest of the factory world was just arousing from sleep. She drew a shawl about her shoulders, and on her head put a dingy hat, shapeless and ancient. |
| 11765 |
It was clear and cold, and Johnny shivered at the first contact with the outside air. The stars had not yet begun to pale in the sky, and the city lay in blackness. Both Johnny and his mother shuffled their feet as they walked. There was no ambition in the leg muscles to swing the feet clear of the ground. |
| 11766 |
Across a ragged sky line of housetops a pale light was beginning to creep. This much he saw of the day as he turned his back upon it and joined his work gang. He took his place in one of many long rows of machines. Before him, above a bin filled with small bobbins, were large bobbins revolving rapidly. |
| 11767 |
Johnny's bobbins were running full blast, but he did not thrill at the indirect praise. There had been a time... but that was long ago, very long ago. His apathetic face was expressionless as he listened to himself being held up as a shining example. He was the perfect worker. He knew that. He had been told so, often. |
| 11768 |
When his work went wrong, it was with him as with the machine, due to faulty material. It would have been as possible for a perfect nail die to cut imperfect nails as for him to make a mistake. And small wonder. There had never been a time when he had not been in intimate relationship with machines. |
| 11769 |
He had coughed that first day in order to rid his lungs of the lint; and for the same reason he had coughed ever since. The boy alongside of Johnny whimpered and sniffed. The boy's face was convulsed with hatred for the overseer who kept a threatening eye on him from a distance; but every bobbin was running full. |
| 11770 |
But at eleven o'clock there was excitement in the room. In an apparently occult way the excitement instantly permeated everywhere. The one legged boy who worked on the other side of Johnny bobbed swiftly across the floor to a bin truck that stood empty. Into this he dived out of sight, crutch and all. |
| 11771 |
His lips were quivering, and his face had all the expression of one upon whom was fallen profound and irremediable disaster. The overseer looked astounded, as though for the first time he had laid eyes on the boy, while the superintendent's face expressed shock and displeasure. "I know him," the inspector said. |
| 11772 |
In the interval the sun had made a golden ladder of the sky, flooded the world with its gracious warmth, and dropped down and disappeared in the west behind a ragged sky line of housetops. Supper was the family meal of the day the one meal at which Johnny encountered his younger brothers and sisters. |
| 11773 |
He did not understand it. His own childhood was too far behind him. He was like an old and irritable man, annoyed by the turbulence of their young spirits that was to him arrant silliness. He glowered silently over his food, finding compensation in the thought that they would soon have to go to work. |
| 11774 |
During the meal, his mother explained in various ways and with infinite repetition that she was trying to do the best she could; so that it was with relief, the scant meal ended, that Johnny shoved back his chair and arose. He debated for a moment between bed and the front door, and finally went out the latter. |
| 11775 |
He was just resting. So far as his mind was concerned, it was asleep. His brothers and sisters came out, and with other children played noisily about him. An electric globe at the corner lighted their frolics. He was peevish and irritable, that they knew; but the spirit of adventure lured them into teasing him. |
| 11776 |
His life had early been embittered by continual giving over and giving way to Will. He had a definite feeling that Will was greatly in his debt and was ungrateful about it. In his own playtime, far back in the dim past, he had been robbed of a large part of that playtime by being compelled to take care of Will. |
| 11777 |
Will was a baby then, and then, as now, their mother had spent her days in the mills. To Johnny had fallen the part of little father and little mother as well. Will seemed to show the benefit of the giving over and the giving way. He was well built, fairly rugged, as tall as his elder brother and even heavier. |
| 11778 |
The other children were uttering frightened cries, while Johnny's sister, Jennie, had dashed into the house. He thrust Will from him, kicked him savagely on the shins, then reached for him and slammed him face downward in the dirt. Nor did he release him till the face had been rubbed into the dirt several times. |
| 11779 |
It was another day, of all the days, and all the days were alike. And yet there had been variety in his life at the times he changed from one job to another, or was taken sick. When he was six, he was little mother and father to Will and the other children still younger. At seven he went into the mills winding bobbins. |
| 11780 |
When he was eight, he got work in another mill. His new job was marvellously easy. All he had to do was to sit down with a little stick in his hand and guide a stream of cloth that flowed past him. This stream of cloth came out of the maw of a machine, passed over a hot roller, and went on its way elsewhere. |
| 11781 |
But there was no exercise about the work, no call upon his mind, and he dreamed less and less, while his mind grew torpid and drowsy. Nevertheless, he earned two dollars a week, and two dollars represented the difference between acute starvation and chronic underfeeding. But when he was nine, he lost his job. |
| 11782 |
The pay was better, and the work demanded skill. It was piecework, and the more skilful he was, the bigger wages he earned. Here was incentive. And under this incentive he developed into a remarkable worker. It was simple work, the tying of glass stoppers into small bottles. At his waist he carried a bundle of twine. |
| 11783 |
He held the bottles between his knees so that he might work with both hands. Thus, in a sitting position and bending over his own knees, his narrow shoulders grew humped and his chest was contracted for ten hours each day. This was not good for the lungs, but he tied three hundred dozen bottles a day. |
| 11784 |
Every motion of his thin arms, every movement of a muscle in the thin fingers, was swift and accurate. He worked at high tension, and the result was that he grew nervous. At night his muscles twitched in his sleep, and in the daytime he could not relax and rest. He remained keyed up and his muscles continued to twitch. |
| 11785 |
Also he grew sallow and his lint cough grew worse. Then pneumonia laid hold of the feeble lungs within the contracted chest, and he lost his job in the glass works. Now he had returned to the jute mills where he had first begun with winding bobbins. But promotion was waiting for him. He was a good worker. |
| 11786 |
He would next go on the starcher, and later he would go into the loom room. There was nothing after that except increased efficiency. The machinery ran faster than when he had first gone to work, and his mind ran slower. He no longer dreamed at all, though his earlier years had been full of dreaming. |
| 11787 |
But that was all in the long ago, before he had grown too old and tired to love. Also, she had married and gone away, and his mind had gone to sleep. Yet it had been a wonderful experience, and he used often to look back upon it as other men and women look back upon the time they believed in fairies. |
| 11788 |
He had become a man very early in life. At seven, when he drew his first wages, began his adolescence. A certain feeling of independence crept up in him, and the relationship between him and his mother changed. Somehow, as an earner and breadwinner, doing his own work in the world, he was more like an equal with her. |
| 11789 |
There was one other memory of the past, dim and faded, but stamped into his soul everlasting by the savage feet of his father. It was more like a nightmare than a remembered vision of a concrete thing more like the race memory of man that makes him fall in his sleep and that goes back to his arboreal ancestry. |
| 11790 |
He never saw what his father looked like. He had but one impression of his father, and that was that he had savage and pitiless feet. His earlier memories lingered with him, but he had no late memories. All days were alike. Yesterday or last year were the same as a thousand years or a minute. Nothing ever happened. |
| 11791 |
It stood always still. It was only the whirling machines that moved, and they moved nowhere in spite of the fact that they moved faster. When he was fourteen, he went to work on the starcher. It was a colossal event. Something had at last happened that could be remembered beyond a night's sleep or a week's pay day. |
| 11792 |
He celebrated his sixteenth birthday by going into the loom room and taking a loom. Here was an incentive again, for it was piece work. And he excelled, because the clay of him had been moulded by the mills into the perfect machine. At the end of three months he was running two looms, and, later, three and four. |
| 11793 |
At the end of his second year at the looms he was turning out more yards than any other weaver, and more than twice as much as some of the less skilful ones. And at home things began to prosper as he approached the full stature of his earning power. Not, however, that his increased earnings were in excess of need. |
| 11794 |
They ate more. And they were going to school, and school books cost money. And somehow, the faster he worked, the faster climbed the prices of things. Even the rent went up, though the house had fallen from bad to worse disrepair. He had grown taller; but with his increased height he seemed leaner than ever. |
| 11795 |
With the nervousness increased his peevishness and irritability. The children had learned by many bitter lessons to fight shy of him. His mother respected him for his earning power, but somehow her respect was tinctured with fear. There was no joyousness in life for him. The procession of the days he never saw. |
| 11796 |
He had no mental life whatever; yet deep down in the crypts of his mind, unknown to him, were being weighed and sifted every hour of his toil, every movement of his hands, every twitch of his muscles, and preparations were making for a future course of action that would amaze him and all his little world. |
| 11797 |
He was aware of a rising, swelling something inside his head that made his brain thick and fuzzy. His lean fingers felt as big as his wrist, while in the ends of them was a remoteness of sensation vague and fuzzy like his brain. The small of his back ached intolerably. All his bones ached. He ached everywhere. |
| 11798 |
All space was filled with flying shuttles. They darted in and out, intricately, amongst the stars. He worked a thousand looms himself, and ever they speeded up, faster and faster, and his brain unwound, faster and faster, and became the thread that fed the thousand flying shuttles. He did not go to work next morning. |
| 11799 |
Another week, the doctor said, and he would be fit to return to work. The foreman of the loom room visited him on Sunday afternoon, the first day of his convalescence. The best weaver in the room, the foreman told his mother. His job would be held for him. He could come back to work a week from Monday. |
| 11800 |
Johnny sat hunched up and gazing steadfastly at the floor. He sat in the same position long after the foreman had gone. It was warm outdoors, and he sat on the stoop in the afternoon. Sometimes his lips moved. He seemed lost in endless calculations. Next morning, after the day grew warm, he took his seat on the stoop. |
| 11801 |
It was a long walk he took, and he did not walk fast. It took him past the jute mill. The muffled roar of the loom room came to his ears, and he smiled. It was a gentle, placid smile. He hated no one, not even the pounding, shrieking machines. There was no bitterness in him, nothing but an inordinate hunger for rest. |
| 11802 |
He did not look like a man. He was a travesty of the human. It was a twisted and stunted and nameless piece of life that shambled like a sickly ape, arms loose hanging, stoop shouldered, narrow chested, grotesque and terrible. He passed by a small railroad station and lay down in the grass under a tree. |
| 11803 |
All afternoon he lay there. Sometimes he dozed, with muscles that twitched in his sleep. When awake, he lay without movement, watching the birds or looking up at the sky through the branches of the tree above him. Once or twice he laughed aloud, but without relevance to anything he had seen or felt. |
| 11804 |
After twilight had gone, in the first darkness of the night, a freight train rumbled into the station. When the engine was switching cars on to the side track, Johnny crept along the side of the train. He pulled open the side door of an empty box car and awkwardly and laboriously climbed in. He closed the door. |
| 11805 |
Loretta began to discover that she was not a pale orb shining by reflection. Quite unconsciously she became a small centre of things. When she was at the piano, there was some one to turn the pages for her and to express preferences for certain songs. When she dropped her handkerchief, there was some one to pick it up. |
| 11806 |
Also, she learned to cast flies in still pools and below savage riffles, and how not to entangle silk lines and gut leaders with the shrubbery. Jack Hemingway did not care to teach beginners, and fished much by himself, or not at all, thus giving Ned Bashford ample time in which to consider Loretta as an appearance. |
| 11807 |
In the main, like all his letters, it was pathological. It was a long recital of symptoms and sufferings, his nervousness, his sleeplessness, and the state of his heart. Then followed reproaches, such as he had never made before. They were sharp enough to make her weep, and true enough to put tragedy into her face. |
| 11808 |
He was a shadow of a man, sliding noiselessly and without undue movement through the semi darkness. Also he was very alert, like a wild animal in the jungle, keenly perceptive and receptive. The movement of another in the darkness about him would need to have been more shadowy than he to have escaped him. |
| 11809 |
The man that watched, noted a light that flared up in the window of a house on the corner, and as it died down he knew it for an expiring match. This was conscious identification of familiar phenomena, and through his mind flitted the thought, "Wanted to know what time." In another house one room was lighted. |
| 11810 |
The light burned dimly and steadily, and he had the feel that it was a sick room. He was especially interested in a house across the street in the middle of the block. To this house he paid most attention. No matter what way he looked, nor what way he walked, his looks and his steps always returned to it. |
| 11811 |
Nothing came in nor out. Nothing happened. There were no lighted windows, nor had lights appeared and disappeared in any of the windows. Yet it was the central point of his consideration. He rallied to it each time after a divination of the state of the neighbourhood. Despite his feel of things, he was not confident. |
| 11812 |
Though unperturbed by the footfalls of the chance pedestrian, he was as keyed up and sensitive and ready to be startled as any timorous deer. He was aware of the possibility of other intelligences prowling about in the darkness intelligences similar to his own in movement, perception, and divination. |
| 11813 |
He whistled twice to the house across the street, then faded away shadow like to the corner and around the corner. Here he paused and looked about him carefully. Reassured, he peered back around the corner and studied the object that moved and that was coming nearer. He had divined aright. It was a policeman. |
| 11814 |
The man went down the cross street to the next corner, from the shelter of which he watched the corner he had just left. He saw the policeman pass by, going straight on up the street. He paralleled the policeman's course, and from the next corner again watched him go by; then he returned the way he had come. |
| 11815 |
There was reassurance in the whistle, just as there had been warning in the previous double whistle. He saw a dark bulk outline itself on the roof of the porch and slowly descend a pillar. Then it came down the steps, passed through the small iron gate, and went down the sidewalk, taking on the form of a man. |
| 11816 |
Yet they did not relax from their caution. Twice they changed their course in order to avoid policemen, and they made very sure that they were not observed when they dived into the dark hallway of a cheap rooming house down town. Not until they had gained their own room on the top floor, did they scratch a match. |
| 11817 |
He was a slender, weazened man, nervous, irritable, high strung, and anaemic a typical child of the gutter, with unbeautiful twisted features, small eyed, with face and mouth perpetually and feverishly hungry, brutish in a cat like way, stamped to the core with degeneracy. Matt did not finger the diamonds. |
| 11818 |
Jim shivered and involuntarily cowered. There was death in the man he looked at. Only the night before that black faced man had killed another with his hands, and it had not hurt his sleep. And in his own heart Jim was aware of a sneaking guilt, of a train of thought that merited all that was threatened. |
| 11819 |
Matt passed out, leaving him still shivering. Then a hatred twisted his own face, and he softly hurled savage curses at the door. He remembered the jewels, and hastened to the bed, feeling under the pillow for the bandanna bundle. He crushed it with his fingers to make certain that it still contained the diamonds. |
| 11820 |
He had turned his back for the moment on his partner, but he did not dare to glance around at him. Matt placed a newspaper on the table, and on the newspaper set the hot frying pan. He cut the steak in half, and served Jim and himself. "Eat her while she's hot," he counselled, and with knife and fork set the example. |
| 11821 |
He was travelling the same road. The smile had gone from his face, and there was on it an intent expression, as if he were listening to some inner tale of himself and trying to divine the message. Matt got up and walked across the room and back again, then sat down. "You did this, Jim," he said quietly. |
| 11822 |
His flesh strove to double him up and bring him to the floor. Matt drank the third cupful, and with difficulty managed to get to a chair and sit down. His first paroxysm was passing. The spasms that afflicted him were dying away. This good effect he ascribed to the mustard and water. He was safe, at any rate. |
| 11823 |
It was his last successful attempt at speech. Thereafter he babbled incoherently, pawing the air with shaking arms till a fresh convulsion stretched him on the floor. Matt struggled back to the chair, and, doubled up on it, with his arms clasped about his knees, he fought with his disintegrating flesh. |
| 11824 |
And in the midst of the paroxysm, with his body and all the parts of it flying apart and writhing and twisting back again into knots, he clung to the chair and shoved it before him across the floor. The last shreds of his will were leaving him when he gained the door. He turned the key and shot back one bolt. |
| 11825 |
She was a slender, dark eyed woman, in whose face was stamped the strain and stress of living. But the fine lines and the haunted look in the eyes were not the handiwork of mere worry. He knew whose handiwork it was as he looked upon it, and she knew when she consulted her mirror. "It's no use, Mary," he said. |
| 11826 |
In line and feature, there was much of resemblance between the two men; and yet, in the strongest resemblances there was a radical difference. Theirs were the same black eyes, but those of the man at the window were sharp and straight looking, while those of the man in the middle of the room were cloudy and furtive. |
| 11827 |
The high cheek bones with the hollows beneath were the same, yet the texture of the hollows seemed different. The thin lipped mouths were from the same mould, but George's lips were firm and muscular, while Al's were soft and loose the lips of an ascetic turned voluptuary. There was also a sag at the corners. |
| 11828 |
She was leaning against the table, unable to conceal her trembling. He became unpleasantly aware of the feeling of his brother's fingers on his hand. Quite unconsciously he wiped the back of the hand upon his coat. The clock ticked on in the silence. It seemed to George that the room reverberated with his voice. |
| 11829 |
His brother stood at a sideboard, in one hand a decanter, in the other hand, bottom up and to his lips, a whisky glass. Across the glass Al saw that he was observed. It threw him into a panic. Hastily he tried to refill the glass and get it to his lips; but glass and decanter were sent smashing to the floor. |
| 11830 |
It was like a funeral, George thought, as he waited. His brother's overcoat caught on the knob of the front door and delayed its closing long enough for Mary's first sob to come to their ears. George's lips were very thin and compressed as he went down the steps. In one hand he carried the suit case. |
| 11831 |
With fixed gaze that did not see the houses that streamed across his field of vision, he had himself been sunk deep in self pity. He helped his brother from the car, and looked up the intersecting street. The car they were to take was not in sight. Al's eyes chanced upon the corner grocery and saloon across the way. |
| 11832 |
The car came in and stopped. There were no passengers to get off. Al dragged himself up the steps and sat down. He smiled as the conductor rang the bell and the car started. The swinging door of the saloon burst open. Clutching in his hand the suit case and a pint bottle of whisky, George started in pursuit. |
| 11833 |
He extracted the cork with a pocket corkscrew, and elevated the bottle. "I'm sick... my stomach," he explained in apologetic tones to the passenger who sat next to him. In the train they sat in the smoking car. George felt that it was imperative. Also, having successfully caught the train, his heart softened. |
| 11834 |
He strove to atone by talking about their mother, and sisters, and the little affairs and interests of the family. But Al was morose, and devoted himself to the bottle. As the time passed, his mouth hung looser and looser, while the rings under his eyes seemed to puff out and all his facial muscles to relax. |
| 11835 |
George's eyes were keen for the ear marks of the institution to which they were going, but his apprehensions were allayed from moment to moment. As they entered the wide gateway and rolled on through the spacious grounds, he felt sure that the institutional side of the place would not jar upon his brother. |
| 11836 |
It was more like a summer hotel, or, better yet, a country club. And as they swept on through the spring sunshine, the songs of birds in his ears, and in his nostrils the breath of flowers, George sighed for a week of rest in such a place, and before his eyes loomed the arid vista of summer in town and at the office. |
| 11837 |
He was aroused by a servant calling to him through the trees that the carriage was waiting. He answered. Then, looking straight before him, he discovered his brother. He had forgotten it was his brother. It had been only a thing the moment before. He began to talk, and as he talked the way became clear to him. |
| 11838 |
George felt the sweat upon his forehead. He began mopping his face with his handkerchief. He heard, as from a remote distance, the voice of the servant again calling to him that the carriage was waiting. The woodpecker dropped down through the mottled sunshine and lighted on the trunk of a tree a dozen feet away. |
| 11839 |
It was true he had been present at it, and Schemmer, the overseer on the plantation, had rushed into the barracks immediately afterward and caught him there, along with four or five others; but what of that? Chung Ga had been stabbed only twice. It stood to reason that five or six men could not inflict two stab wounds. |
| 11840 |
So it was that Ah Cho reasoned, when he, along with his four companions, had lied and blocked and obfuscated in their statements to the court concerning what had taken place. They had heard the sounds of the killing, and, like Schemmer, they had run to the spot. They had got there before Schemmer that was all. |
| 11841 |
True, Schemmer had testified that, attracted by the sound of quarrelling as he chanced to pass by, he had stood for at least five minutes outside; that then, when he entered, he found the prisoners already inside; and that they had not entered just before, because he had been standing by the one door to the barracks. |
| 11842 |
The English Company that owned the plantation had imported into Tahiti, at great expense, the five hundred coolies. The stockholders were clamouring for dividends, and the Company had not yet paid any; wherefore the Company did not want its costly contract labourers to start the practice of killing one another. |
| 11843 |
Ah Cho did not understand all this. He sat in the court room and waited for the baffled judgment that would set him and his comrades free to go back to the plantation and work out the terms of their contracts. This judgment would soon be rendered. Proceedings were drawing to a close. He could see that. |
| 11844 |
And as he waited he remembered back in his life to the time when he had signed the contract and set sail in the ship for Tahiti. Times had been hard in his sea coast village, and when he indentured himself to labour for five years in the South Seas at fifty cents Mexican a day, he had thought himself fortunate. |
| 11845 |
Yes, and back of the house he would have a small garden, a place of meditation and repose, with goldfish in a tiny lakelet, and wind bells tinkling in the several trees, and there would be a high wall all around so that his meditation and repose should be undisturbed. Well, he had worked out three of those five years. |
| 11846 |
But just now he was losing money because of the unfortunate accident of being present at the killing of Chung Ga. He had lain three weeks in prison, and for each day of those three weeks he had lost fifty cents. But now judgment would soon be given, and he would go back to work. Ah Cho was twenty two years old. |
| 11847 |
While his body was slim in the Asiatic way, his face was rotund. It was round, like the moon, and it irradiated a gentle complacence and a sweet kindliness of spirit that was unusual among his countrymen. Nor did his looks belie him. He never caused trouble, never took part in wrangling. He did not gamble. |
| 11848 |
But he earned his salary. He got the last particle of strength out of the five hundred slaves; for slaves they were until their term of years was up. Schemmer worked hard to extract the strength from those five hundred sweating bodies and to transmute it into bales of fluffy cotton ready for export. |
| 11849 |
He had not exactly crushed the man's head like an egg shell, but the blow had been sufficient to addle what was inside, and, after being sick for a week, the man had died. But the Chinese had not complained to the French devils that ruled over Tahiti. It was their own look out. Schemmer was their problem. |
| 11850 |
Dividends must be paid, or else one more failure would be added to the long history of failure in Tahiti. There was no understanding these white devils. Ah Cho pondered their inscrutableness as he sat in the court room waiting the judgment. There was no telling what went on at the back of their minds. |
| 11851 |
They were not temperate as Chinagos were temperate; they were gluttons, eating prodigiously and drinking more prodigiously. A Chinago never knew when an act would please them or arouse a storm of wrath. A Chinago could never tell. What pleased one time, the very next time might provoke an outburst of anger. |
| 11852 |
And then, on top of it all, was that terrible efficiency of the white devils, that ability to do things, to make things go, to work results, to bend to their wills all creeping, crawling things, and the powers of the very elements themselves. Yes, the white men were strange and wonderful, and they were devils. |
| 11853 |
One blow of the belt had bruised his cheek, taking off some of the skin. Schemmer had pointed to the bruises when, on the witness stand, he had identified Ah Cho. It was only just now that the marks had become no longer visible. That had been a blow. Half an inch nearer the centre and it would have taken out his eye. |
| 11854 |
The sentences being unexpected was quite what they were accustomed to in their dealings with the white devils. From them a Chinago rarely expected more than the unexpected. The heavy punishment for a crime they had not committed was no stranger than the countless strange things that white devils did. |
| 11855 |
Twenty years were merely twenty years. By that much was his garden removed from him that was all. He was young, and the patience of Asia was in his bones. He could wait those twenty years, and by that time the heats of his blood would be assuaged and he would be better fitted for that garden of calm delight. |
| 11856 |
Now, it happened that the Chief Justice had given a dinner the night before to the captain and officers of the French man of war. His hand was shaking when he wrote out the order, and his eyes were aching so dreadfully that he did not read over the order. It was only a Chinago's life he was signing away, anyway. |
| 11857 |
That is the way I want to die quick, ah, quick. You are lucky to die that way. You might get the leprosy and fall to pieces slowly, a finger at a time, and now and again a thumb, also the toes. I knew a man who was burned by hot water. It took him two days to die. You could hear him yelling a kilometre away. |
| 11858 |
Also, if he turned back to Papeete, he would delay the execution at Atimaono, and if he were wrong in turning back, he would get a reprimand from the sergeant who was waiting for the prisoner. And, furthermore, he would get a reprimand at Papeete as well. He touched the mules with the whip and drove on. |
| 11859 |
He put the mules into a faster trot. The more Ah Cho persisted in explaining the mistake, the more stubborn Cruchot became. The knowledge that he had the wrong man did not make his temper better. The knowledge that it was through no mistake of his confirmed him in the belief that the wrong he was doing was the right. |
| 11860 |
And, rather than incur the displeasure of the sergeant, he would willingly have assisted a dozen wrong Chinagos to their doom. As for Ah Cho, after the gendarme had struck him over the head with the butt of the whip and commanded him in a loud voice to shut up, there remained nothing for him to do but to shut up. |
| 11861 |
What they were doing with him was of a piece with everything they did. First they found guilty five innocent men, and next they cut off the head of the man that even they, in their benighted ignorance, had deemed meritorious of no more than twenty years' imprisonment. And there was nothing he could do. |
| 11862 |
Beneath him on one side he saw assembled all the coolies of the plantation. Schemmer had decided that the event would be a good object lesson, and so he called in the coolies from the fields and compelled them to be present. As they caught sight of Ah Cho they gabbled among themselves in low voices. |
| 11863 |
It was on his suggestion that they had ordered the execution to take place at Atimaono instead of at Papeete. The scene of the crime, Schemmer had argued, was the best possible place for the punishment, and, in addition, it would have a salutary influence upon the half thousand Chinagos on the plantation. |
| 11864 |
No, that would not do. "Forgive malice" yes, but there was no malice to forgive. Schemmer and the rest were doing this thing without malice. It was to them merely a piece of work that had to be done, just as clearing the jungle, ditching the water, and planting cotton were pieces of work that had to be done. |
| 11865 |
What was the good of protesting? Those foreign devils always had their way. He allowed himself to be lashed to the vertical board that was the size of his body. Schemmer drew the buckles tight so tight that the straps cut into his flesh and hurt. But he did not complain. The hurt would not last long. |
| 11866 |
And in that moment he caught a last glimpse of his garden of meditation and repose. It seemed to him that he sat in the garden. A cool wind was blowing, and the bells in the several trees were tinkling softly. Also, birds were making sleepy noises, and from beyond the high wall came the subdued sound of village life. |
| 11867 |
Then he was aware that the board had come to rest, and from muscular pressures and tensions he knew that he was lying on his back. He opened his eyes. Straight above him he saw the suspended knife blazing in the sunshine. He saw the weight which had been added, and noted that one of Schemmer's knots had slipped. |
| 11868 |
For seven weeks she had been either in dirt, or close to dirt, save once, and then, following upon six days of excessive dirt, which she had ridden out under the shelter of the redoubtable Terra del Fuego coast, she had almost gone ashore during a heavy swell in the dead calm that had suddenly fallen. |
| 11869 |
Perhaps he was strained most of all, for upon him rested the responsibility of that titanic struggle. He slept most of the time in his clothes, though he rarely slept. He haunted the deck at night, a great, burly, robust ghost, black with the sunburn of thirty years of sea and hairy as an orang outang. |
| 11870 |
For a fortnight, once, Captain Dan Cullen was without a meridian or a chronometer sight. Rarely did he know his position within half of a degree, except when in sight of land; for sun and stars remained hidden behind the sky, and it was so gloomy that even at the best the horizons were poor for accurate observations. |
| 11871 |
That was why both watches were on deck so much of the time. And no shadow of a man could shirk duty. Nothing less than a broken leg could enable a man to knock off work; and there were two such, who had been mauled and pulped by the seas that broke aboard. One other man who was the shadow of a man was George Dorety. |
| 11872 |
His grimy face usually robbed George Dorety of what little appetite he managed to accumulate. Ordinarily this lavatorial dereliction would have caught Captain Cullen's eye and vocabulary, but in the present his mind was filled with making westing, to the exclusion of all other things not contributory thereto. |
| 11873 |
If the wind held, she would make around. If it failed, and the snorter came from anywhere between south west and north, back the Mary Rogers would be hurled and be no better off than she had been seven weeks before. And on Sunday morning the wind was failing. The big sea was going down and running smooth. |
| 11874 |
Both watches were on deck setting sail after sail as fast as the ship could stand it. And now Captain Cullen went around brazenly before God, smoking a big cigar, smiling jubilantly, as if the failing wind delighted him, while down underneath he was raging against God for taking the life out of the blessed wind. |
| 11875 |
The men went aloft faster than they had gone in weeks. Not alone were they nimble because of the westing, but a benignant sun was shining down and limbering their stiff bodies. George Dorety stood aft, near Captain Cullen, less bundled in clothes than usual, soaking in the grateful warmth as he watched the scene. |
| 11876 |
George Dorety could hear their cries, while a persistent vision haunted him of a man called Mops, alive and well, clinging to a life buoy miles astern in that lonely ocean. He glanced at Captain Cullen, and experienced a feeling of nausea, for the man was eating his food with relish, almost bolting it. |
| 11877 |
The heavy block hurtled through the air, smashing Dorety's head like an egg shell and hurtling on and back and forth as the staysail whipped and slatted in the wind. Joshua Higgins turned around to see what had carried away, and met the full blast of the vilest portion of Captain Cullen's profanity. |
| 11878 |
When informed by the steward, in fear and trembling, of the man's unexpected take off, his lips did not so much as form one syllable of censure; nay, they were so pursed that snatches of rag time floated softly from them, to be broken only by a pleasant query after the health of the other's eldest born. |
| 11879 |
People who knew him were prone to brand him a butcher, but his colleagues were at one in the belief that a bolder and yet a more capable man never stood over the table. He was not an imaginative man. He did not possess, and hence had no tolerance for, emotion. His nature was accurate, precise, scientific. |
| 11880 |
That was the point. That was where his interest had centred. Cut from ear to ear, and not one surgeon in a thousand to give a snap of the fingers for his chance of recovery. But, thanks to the swift municipal ambulance service and to Doctor Bicknell, he had been dragged back into the world he had sought to leave. |
| 11881 |
So, on this morning that Semper Idem was to leave the hospital, hale and hearty, Doctor Bicknell's geniality was in nowise disturbed by the steward's report, and he proceeded cheerfully to bring order out of the chaos of a child's body which had been ground and crunched beneath the wheels of an electric car. |
| 11882 |
Not one word could he be persuaded to utter; yet the flitting conscious light of his eyes showed that his ears heard and his brain grasped every question put to him. But this mystery and romance played no part in Doctor Bicknell's interest when he paused in the office to have a parting word with his patient. |
| 11883 |
But the last one, an old rag picker with a broken shoulder blade, had been disposed of, and the first fragrant smoke wreaths had begun to curl about his head, when the gong of a hurrying ambulance came through the open window from the street, followed by the inevitable entry of the stretcher with its ghastly freight. |
| 11884 |
Excess is to be deplored in all things, even in grafting, and Yi Chin Ho's excess had brought him to most deplorable straits. Ten thousand strings of cash he owed the Government, and he lay in prison under sentence of death. There was one advantage to the situation he had plenty of time in which to think. |
| 11885 |
It was not due to carelessness so much as to the lack of discipline of the crew and to the fact that they were indifferent seamen at best. The man at the wheel in particular, a Limerick man, had had no experience with salt water beyond that of rafting timber on the Shannon between the Quebec vessels and the shore. |
| 11886 |
It was three in the morning when his unseamanlike conduct precipitated the catastrophe. At sight of a sea far larger than its fellows, he crouched down, releasing his hands from the spokes. The Francis Spaight sheered as her stern lifted on the sea, receiving the full fling of the cap on her quarter. |
| 11887 |
Beyond cursing them for their worthlessness, he did nothing; and it remained for a man named Mahoney, a Belfast man, and a boy, O'Brien, of Limerick, to cut away the fore and main masts. This they did at great risk on the perpendicular wall of the wreck, sending the mizzentopmast overside along in the general crash. |
| 11888 |
There were thirteen alive, and for seventy two hours they stood knee deep in the sloshing water on the cabin floor, half frozen, without food, and with but three bottles of wine shared among them. All food and fresh water were below, and there was no getting at such supplies in the water logged condition of the wreck. |
| 11889 |
But the rain fell infrequently, and they were hard put. When it rained, they also soaked their handkerchiefs, squeezing them out into their mouths or into their shoes. As the wind and sea went down, they were even able to mop the exposed portions of the deck that were free from brine and so add to their water supply. |
| 11890 |
We can't hang out much longer. It is beyond human nature to go on hanging out with nothing in our stomachs. There is a serious question to consider: whether it is better for all to die, or for one to die. We are standing with our feet in our graves. If one of us dies, the rest may live until a ship is sighted. |
| 11891 |
A handkerchief was tied over his eyes, blindfolding him, and he knelt down on the deck with his back to Sullivan. "Whoever you name for the shortest stick'll die," the captain said. Sullivan held up one of the sticks. The rest were concealed in his hand so that no one could see whether it was the short stick or not. |
| 11892 |
From internal evidences we are convinced that the narrative which follows was not reduced to writing till the twenty ninth century. Not only was it unlawful to write or print such matter during that period, but the working class was so illiterate that only in rare instances were its members able to read and write. |
| 11893 |
From the statute books of the times may be instanced that black law that made it a capital offence for any man, no matter of what class, to teach even the alphabet to a member of the working class. Such stringent limitation of education to the ruling class was necessary if that class was to continue to rule. |
| 11894 |
It is because you do not know that you are slaves. When I have told you this tale, I should like to form a class among you for the learning of written and printed speech. Our masters read and write and possess many books, and it is because of that that they are our masters, and live in palaces, and do not work. |
| 11895 |
It is history. It is printed, every word of it, in the history books of our masters, which you cannot read because your masters will not permit you to learn to read. You can understand why they will not permit you to learn to read, when there are such things in the books. They know, and they are very wise. |
| 11896 |
Young Bill Vange was strong. He might have remained with the slaves and led them to freedom; instead, however, he served the masters and was well rewarded. He began his service, when yet a small child, as a spy in his home slave pen. He is known to have informed on his own father for seditious utterance. |
| 11897 |
Alexander Burrell took him out, while yet a child, and he was taught to read and write. He was taught many things, and he was entered in the secret service of the Government. Of course, he no longer wore the slave dress, except for disguise at such times when he sought to penetrate the secrets and plots of the slaves. |
| 11898 |
And he was greatly rewarded, and so red were his hands with the blood of the slaves that thereafter he was called "Bloody Vange." You see, my brothers, what interesting things are to be found in the books when one can read them. And, take my word for it, there are many other things, even more interesting, in the books. |
| 11899 |
I shall tell only about the arm. It happened that, according to the law, a portion of the starvation wage of the slaves was held back each month and put into a fund. This fund was for the purpose of helping such unfortunate fellow workmen as happened to be injured by accidents or to be overtaken by sickness. |
| 11900 |
Now, Clancy and Munster took this fund for their own use. When accidents happened to the workmen, their fellows, as was the custom, made grants from the fund; but the overseers refused to pay over the grants. What could the slaves do? They had their rights under the law, but they had no access to the law. |
| 11901 |
It happened that Roger Vanderwater was fond of scientific farming, and that on his farm, three miles outside of Kingsbury, he had managed to grow a new kind of strawberry. He was very proud of that new strawberry of his, and he would have been out to see and pick the first ripe ones, had it not been for his illness. |
| 11902 |
And the men in the slave pen of Hell's Bottom, being men and not cowards, held a council. The slave who could write, and who was sick and dying from the pick handle beating, said he would carry Tom Dixon's arm; also, he said he must die anyway, and that it mattered nothing if he died a little sooner. |
| 11903 |
The labour and the lives of ten thousand slaves had gone to the making of that bedchamber, while they themselves slept in vile lairs like wild beasts. The slave who could write brought in the berries on a silver tray or platter you see, Roger Vanderwater wanted to speak with him in person about the berries. |
| 11904 |
The flour for the gravy she had borrowed from the neighbour across the hall The last two ha'pennies had gone to buy the bread. He sat down by the window on a rickety chair that protested under his weight, and quite mechanically he put his pipe in his mouth and dipped into the side pocket of his coat. |
| 11905 |
It was the face of a typical prize fighter; of one who had put in long years of service in the squared ring and, by that means, developed and emphasized all the marks of the fighting beast. It was distinctly a lowering countenance, and, that no feature of it might escape notice, it was clean shaven. |
| 11906 |
And yet Tom King was not a criminal, nor had he ever done anything criminal. Outside of brawls, common to his walk in life, he had harmed no one. Nor had he ever been known to pick a quarrel. He was a professional, and all the fighting brutishness of him was reserved for his professional appearances. |
| 11907 |
Outside the ring he was slow going, easy natured, and, in his younger days, when money was flush, too open handed for his own good. He bore no grudges and had few enemies. Fighting was a business with him. In the ring he struck to hurt, struck to maim, struck to destroy; but there was no animus in it. |
| 11908 |
And he had played for that jaw and broken it again in the ninth round, not because he bore the Gouger any ill will, but because that was the surest way to put the Gouger out and win the big end of the purse. Nor had the Gouger borne him any ill will for it. It was the game, and both knew the game and played it. |
| 11909 |
He had never heard that a man's life was the life of his arteries, but well he knew the meaning of those big upstanding veins. His heart had pumped too much blood through them at top pressure. They no longer did the work. He had stretched the elasticity out of them, and with their distension had passed his endurance. |
| 11910 |
Burke would have given him credit for a thousand steaks then. But times had changed. Tom King was getting old; and old men, fighting before second rate clubs, couldn't expect to run bills of any size with the tradesmen. He had got up in the morning with a longing for a piece of steak, and the longing had not abated. |
| 11911 |
And, as any man knew, a hard two miles was not the best preliminary to a fight. He was an old un, and the world did not wag well with old uns. He was good for nothing now except navvy work, and his broken nose and swollen ear were against him even in that. He found himself wishing that he had learned a trade. |
| 11912 |
But he realized now, in his slow, ruminating way, that it was the old uns he had been putting away. He was Youth, rising; and they were Age, sinking. No wonder it had been easy they with their swollen veins and battered knuckles and weary in the bones of them from the long battles they had already fought. |
| 11913 |
He had seen them all finished, and he had had a hand in finishing some of them. They had tried him out against the old uns, and one after another he had put them away laughing when, like old Stowsher Bill, they cried in the dressing room. And now he was an old un, and they tried out the youngsters on him. |
| 11914 |
If Sandel made a showing, he would be given better men to fight, with bigger purses to win; so it was to be depended upon that he would put up a fierce battle. He had everything to win by it money and glory and career; and Tom King was the grizzled old chopping block that guarded the highway to fame and fortune. |
| 11915 |
He acknowledged salutations right and left, though few of the faces did he know. Most of them were the faces of kiddies unborn when he was winning his first laurels in the squared ring. He leaped lightly to the raised platform and ducked through the ropes to his corner, where he sat down on a folding stool. |
| 11916 |
King was glad that he had him for referee. They were both old uns. If he should rough it with Sandel a bit beyond the rules, he knew Ball could be depended upon to pass it by. Aspiring young heavyweights, one after another, were climbing into the ring and being presented to the audience by the referee. |
| 11917 |
Tom King looked across the ring at him curiously, for in a few minutes they would be locked together in merciless combat, each trying with all the force of him to knock the other into unconsciousness. But little could he see, for Sandel, like himself, had trousers and sweater on over his ring costume. |
| 11918 |
Young Pronto went to one corner and then the other, shaking hands with the principals and dropping down out of the ring. The challenges went on. Ever Youth climbed through the ropes Youth unknown, but insatiable crying out to mankind that with strength and skill it would match issues with the winner. |
| 11919 |
But now he sat fascinated, unable to shake the vision of Youth from his eyes. Always were these youngsters rising up in the boxing game, springing through the ropes and shouting their defiance; and always were the old uns going down before them. They climbed to success over the bodies of the old uns. |
| 11920 |
A second of his own was in Sandel's corner, performing a like office. Sandel's trousers were pulled off, and, as he stood up, his sweater was skinned off over his head. And Tom King, looking, saw Youth incarnate, deep chested, heavy thewed, with muscles that slipped and slid like live things under the white satin skin. |
| 11921 |
Besides, he had already walked two miles to the ringside. It was a repetition of the first round, with Sandel attacking like a whirlwind and with the audience indignantly demanding why King did not fight. Beyond feinting and several slowly delivered and ineffectual blows he did nothing save block and stall and clinch. |
| 11922 |
It was like a sleepy seeming lion suddenly thrusting out a lightning paw. Sandel, caught on the side of the jaw, was felled like a bullock. The audience gasped and murmured awe stricken applause. The man was not muscle bound, after all, and he could drive a blow like a trip hammer. Sandel was shaken. |
| 11923 |
He never forgot his battered knuckles, and knew that every hit must count if the knuckles were to last out the fight. As he sat in his corner, glancing across at his opponent, the thought came to him that the sum of his wisdom and Sandel's youth would constitute a world's champion heavyweight. But that was the trouble. |
| 11924 |
He lacked the wisdom, and the only way for him to get it was to buy it with Youth; and when wisdom was his, Youth would have been spent in buying it. King took every advantage he knew. He never missed an opportunity to clinch, and in effecting most of the clinches his shoulder drove stiffly into the other's ribs. |
| 11925 |
As his vitality had dimmed and his vigour abated, he had replaced them with cunning, with wisdom born of the long fights and with a careful shepherding of strength. Not alone had he learned never to make a superfluous movement, but he had learned how to seduce an opponent into throwing his strength away. |
| 11926 |
King rested, but he never permitted Sandel to rest. It was the strategy of Age. Early in the tenth round King began stopping the other's rushes with straight lefts to the face, and Sandel, grown wary, responded by drawing the left, then by ducking it and delivering his right in a swinging hook to the side of the head. |
| 11927 |
It was as if he had slept for a time and just opened his eyes again, and yet the interval of unconsciousness was so microscopically short that there had been no time for him to fall. The audience saw him totter and his knees give, and then saw him recover and tuck his chin deeper into the shelter of his left shoulder. |
| 11928 |
And now Sandel would recuperate in the minute of rest. Youth will be served this saying flashed into King's mind, and he remembered the first time he had heard it, the night when he had put away Stowsher Bill. The toff who had bought him a drink after the fight and patted him on the shoulder had used those words. |
| 11929 |
Had he fought like Sandel, he would not have lasted fifteen minutes. But the point was that he did not recuperate. Those upstanding arteries and that sorely tried heart would not enable him to gather strength in the intervals between the rounds. And he had not had sufficient strength in him to begin with. |
| 11930 |
His strength was waning fast, and his hope was that before the last of it ebbed out of him he would have beaten his opponent down for the count. And as he continued to strike and force, coolly estimating the weight of his blows and the quality of the damage wrought, he realized how hard a man Sandel was to knock out. |
| 11931 |
Sandel was reeling and staggering, but Tom King's legs were cramping and his knuckles going back on him. Yet he steeled himself to strike the fierce blows, every one of which brought anguish to his tortured hands. Though now he was receiving practically no punishment, he was weakening as rapidly as the other. |
| 11932 |
His blows went home, but there was no longer the weight behind them, and each blow was the result of a severe effort of will. His legs were like lead, and they dragged visibly under him; while Sandel's backers, cheered by this symptom, began calling encouragement to their man. King was spurred to a burst of effort. |
| 11933 |
They were not heavy blows, yet so weak and dazed was Sandel that he went down and lay quivering. The referee stood over him, shouting the count of the fatal seconds in his ear. If before the tenth second was called, he did not rise, the fight was lost. The house stood in hushed silence. King rested on trembling legs. |
| 11934 |
And Tom King, in a flash of bitterness, remembered the piece of steak and wished that he had it then behind that necessary punch he must deliver. He nerved himself for the blow, but it was not heavy enough nor swift enough. Sandel swayed, but did not fall, staggering back to the ropes and holding on. |
| 11935 |
And, from the impact of the blow, Tom King himself reeled back and nearly fell. Once again he strove. This time his punch missed altogether, and, from absolute weakness, he fell against Sandel and clinched, holding on to him to save himself from sinking to the floor. King did not attempt to free himself. |
| 11936 |
When the referee thrust them apart, there, before his eyes, he saw Youth recuperate. From instant to instant Sandel grew stronger. His punches, weak and futile at first, became stiff and accurate. Tom King's bleared eyes saw the gloved fist driving at his jaw, and he willed to guard it by interposing his arm. |
| 11937 |
The doors of the public house at the corner were swinging wide, and he saw the lights and the smiling barmaids, heard the many voices discussing the fight and the prosperous chink of money on the bar. Somebody called to him to have a drink. He hesitated perceptibly, then refused and went on his way. |
| 11938 |
Mr. Blood's attention was divided between his task and the stream of humanity in the narrow street below; a stream which poured for the second time that day towards Castle Field, where earlier in the afternoon Ferguson, the Duke's chaplain, had preached a sermon containing more treason than divinity. |
| 11939 |
As he did so, his glance travelling straight across the street met at last the glance of those hostile eyes that watched him. There were two pairs, and they belonged to the Misses Pitt, two amiable, sentimental maiden ladies who yielded to none in Bridgewater in their worship of the handsome Monmouth. |
| 11940 |
He was the son of an Irish medicus, by a Somersetshire lady in whose veins ran the rover blood of the Frobishers, which may account for a certain wildness that had early manifested itself in his disposition. This wildness had profoundly alarmed his father, who for an Irishman was of a singularly peace loving nature. |
| 11941 |
His father survived that satisfaction by three months only. His mother had then been dead some years already. Thus Peter Blood came into an inheritance of some few hundred pounds, with which he had set out to see the world and give for a season a free rein to that restless spirit by which he was imbued. |
| 11942 |
Because he liked the place, in which his health was rapidly restored to him, and because he conceived that he had passed through adventures enough for a man's lifetime, he determined to settle there, and take up at last the profession of medicine from which he had, with so little profit, broken away. |
| 11943 |
The armies came into collision in the neighbourhood of two o'clock in the morning. Mr. Blood slept undisturbed through the distant boom of cannon. Not until four o'clock, when the sun was rising to dispel the last wisps of mist over that stricken field of battle, did he awaken from his tranquil slumbers. |
| 11944 |
He sat up in bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and collected himself. Blows were thundering upon the door of his house, and a voice was calling incoherently. This was the noise that had aroused him. Conceiving that he had to do with some urgent obstetrical case, he reached for bedgown and slippers, to go below. |
| 11945 |
At sight of the doctor, dressed and booted, the case of instruments tucked under his arm, the messenger disengaged himself from those who pressed about, shook off his weariness and the two tearful aunts that clung most closely, and seizing the bridle of his horse, he climbed to the saddle. "Come along, sir," he cried. |
| 11946 |
For one thing, he was not easily disturbed; for another, his task absorbed him. But his lordship, who had now recovered consciousness, showed considerable alarm, and the battle stained Jeremy Pitt sped to cover in a clothes press. Baynes was uneasy, and his wife and daughter trembled. Mr. Blood reassured them. |
| 11947 |
The Captain strode across to them. He took the girl by the shoulders. She was a pretty, golden headed creature, with soft blue eyes that looked up entreatingly, piteously into the face of the dragoon. He leered upon her, his eyes aglow, took her chin in his hand, and set her shuddering by his brutal kiss. |
| 11948 |
He had been considering that in his case of instruments there was a lancet with which he might perform on Captain Hobart a beneficial operation. Beneficial, that is, to humanity. In any case, the dragoon was obviously plethoric and would be the better for a blood letting. The difficulty lay in making the opportunity. |
| 11949 |
From the threshold of the hall, he looked back at Captain Hobart, and his sapphire eyes were blazing. On his lips trembled a threat of what he would do to Hobart if he should happen to survive this business. Betimes he remembered that to utter it were probably to extinguish his chance of living to execute it. |
| 11950 |
Baynes checked in his stride, and swung round writhing, his face ashen. As a consequence he was jerked from his feet by the rope that attached him to the stirrup leather, and he was dragged helplessly a yard or two before the trooper reined in, cursing him foully, and striking him with the flat of his sword. |
| 11951 |
When Blood insisted upon his right to exercise his art so as to relieve some of this suffering, he was accounted importunate and threatened with a flogging. If he had one regret now it was that he had not been out with Monmouth. That, of course, was illogical; but you can hardly expect logic from a man in his position. |
| 11952 |
Hence, fortuitously, had they been chained together in the crowded prison, where they were almost suffocated by the heat and the stench during those days of July, August, and September. Scraps of news filtered into the gaol from the outside world. Some may have been deliberately allowed to penetrate. |
| 11953 |
Neither good nor true did they look. They were scared, uneasy, and hangdog as any set of thieves caught with their hands in the pockets of their neighbours. They were twelve shaken men, each of whom stood between the sword of the Lord Chief Justice's recent bloodthirsty charge and the wall of his own conscience. |
| 11954 |
He was so amazed by the man, by the reactions taking place in him between mind and body, and by his methods of bullying and coercing the jury into bloodshed, that he almost forgot that his own life was at stake. The absence of that dazed jury was a brief one. The verdict found the three prisoners guilty. |
| 11955 |
Then, there were at court many gentlemen who had some claim or other upon His Majesty's bounty. Here was a cheap and ready way to discharge these claims. From amongst the convicted rebels a certain number might be set aside to be bestowed upon those gentlemen, so that they might dispose of them to their own profit. |
| 11956 |
From close confinement under hatches, ill nourishment and foul water, a sickness broke out amongst them, of which eleven died. Amongst these was the unfortunate yeoman from Oglethorpe's Farm, brutally torn from his quiet homestead amid the fragrant cider orchards for no other sin but that he had practised mercy. |
| 11957 |
Their owner put forth a hand to touch the scarlet sleeve of her companion, whereupon with an ill tempered grunt the man swung his great bulk round so that he directly confronted her. Looking up into his face, she was speaking to him earnestly, but the Colonel plainly gave her no more than the half of his attention. |
| 11958 |
He raised his voice in answering. "Your excellency is very good. But, faith, they're a weedy lot, not likely to be of much value in the plantation." His beady eyes scanned them again, and his contempt of them deepened the malevolence of his face. It was as if he were annoyed with them for being in no better condition. |
| 11959 |
Then he beckoned forward Captain Gardner, the master of the Jamaica Merchant, and for some minutes stood in talk with him over a list which the latter produced at his request. Presently he waved aside the list and advanced alone towards the rebels convict, his eyes considering them, his lips pursed. |
| 11960 |
Peter Blood stood there in the brilliant sunshine and inhaled the fragrant air, which was unlike any air that he had ever breathed. It was laden with a strange perfume, blend of logwood flower, pimento, and aromatic cedars. He lost himself in unprofitable speculations born of that singular fragrance. |
| 11961 |
A sense of loneliness and misery pervaded him by contrast with which all that he had endured seemed as nothing. To Pitt, this separation was the poignant climax of all his sufferings. Other buyers came and stared at them, and passed on. Blood did not heed them. And then at the end of the line there was a movement. |
| 11962 |
Peter Blood prayed that the offer might be rejected. For no reason that he could have given you, he was taken with repugnance at the thought of becoming the property of this gross animal, and in some sort the property of that hazel eyed young girl. But it would need more than repugnance to save him from his destiny. |
| 11963 |
Miss Arabella drew rein, affecting to pause that she might admire the prospect, which was fair enough to warrant it. Yet out of the corner of those hazel eyes she scanned this fellow very attentively as he came nearer. She corrected her first impression of his dress. It was sober enough, but hardly gentlemanly. |
| 11964 |
Coat and breeches were of plain homespun; and if the former sat so well upon him it was more by virtue of his natural grace than by that of tailoring. His stockings were of cotton, harsh and plain, and the broad castor, which he respectfully doffed as he came up with her, was an old one unadorned by band or feather. |
| 11965 |
What had seemed to be a periwig at a little distance was now revealed for the man's own lustrous coiling black hair. Out of a brown, shaven, saturnine face two eyes that were startlingly blue considered her gravely. The man would have passed on but that she detained him. "I think I know you, sir," said she. |
| 11966 |
She used with all men a sisterly frankness which in itself contains a quality of aloofness, rendering it difficult for any man to become her lover. Her negroes had halted at some distance in the rear, and they squatted now upon the short grass until it should be her pleasure to proceed upon her way. |
| 11967 |
Daily he came to think more of his clipped wings, of his exclusion from the world, and less of the fortuitous liberty he enjoyed. Nor did the contrasting of his comparatively easy lot with that of his unfortunate fellow convicts bring him the satisfaction a differently constituted mind might have derived from it. |
| 11968 |
The remainder had gone to lesser planters, some of them to Speightstown, and others still farther north. What may have been the lot of the latter he could not tell, but amongst Bishop's slaves Peter Blood came and went freely, sleeping in their quarters, and their lot he knew to be a brutalizing misery. |
| 11969 |
Peter Blood alone, escaping these excessive sufferings, remained outwardly unchanged, whilst inwardly the only change in him was a daily deeper hatred of his kind, a daily deeper longing to escape from this place where man defiled so foully the lovely work of his Creator. It was a longing too vague to amount to a hope. |
| 11970 |
It was perhaps his one mistake. But the goodness of his own nature coloured his views of other men; moreover, himself, he had conducted the education of his daughter, giving her an independence of character upon which perhaps he counted unduly. As things were, there was little love between uncle and niece. |
| 11971 |
All his life, and for all his wildness, he had gone in a certain awe of his brother, whose worth he had the wit to recognize; and now it was almost as if some of that awe was transferred to his brother's child, who was also, in a sense, his partner, although she took no active part in the business of the plantations. |
| 11972 |
Nevertheless he performed his doctor's duties zealously and painstakingly, if emotionlessly, and even with a certain superficial friendliness towards each of his patients. These were so surprised at having their wounds healed instead of being summarily hanged that they manifested a docility very unusual in their kind. |
| 11973 |
Then he lowered his cane, swung round, and without another word to Blood rolled away towards the other end of the shed where the Governor was standing at the moment. Peter Blood chuckled. But his triumph was dictated less by humanitarian considerations than by the reflection that he had baulked his brutal owner. |
| 11974 |
The Spaniard, realizing that in this altercation, whatever its nature, the doctor had stood his friend, ventured in a muted voice to ask him what had happened. But the doctor shook his head in silence, and pursued his work. His ears were straining to catch the words now passing between Steed and Bishop. |
| 11975 |
At the moment it struck him silent, and sent him stamping out of the shed in a rage for which he could find no words. It was two days later when the ladies of Bridgetown, the wives and daughters of her planters and merchants, paid their first visit of charity to the wharf, bringing their gifts to the wounded seamen. |
| 11976 |
But rising suddenly from the re dressing of a wound, a task in which he had been absorbed for some moments, he saw to his surprise that one lady, detached from the general throng, was placing some plantains and a bundle of succulent sugar cane on the cloak that served one of his patients for a coverlet. |
| 11977 |
Don't I know what you are thinking? If you could escape from this hell of slavery, you could exercise the profession of which you are an ornament as a free man with pleasure and profit to yourself. The world is large. There are many nations besides England where a man of your parts would be warmly welcomed. |
| 11978 |
Whilst Dr. Whacker was professing that his heart bled for a brother doctor languishing in slavery, denied the opportunity which his gifts entitled him to make for himself, Peter Blood pounced like a hawk upon the obvious truth. Whacker and his colleague desired to be rid of one who threatened to ruin them. |
| 11979 |
Also he must consult another. Already he had hit upon that other. For such a voyage a navigator would be necessary, and a navigator was ready to his hand in Jeremy Pitt. The first thing was to take counsel with the young shipmaster, who must be associated with him in this business if it were to be undertaken. |
| 11980 |
Sitting close thereafter they talked in whispers for an hour or more, and all the while those dulled wits of Pitt's were sharpening themselves anew upon this precious whetstone of hope. They would need to recruit others into their enterprise, a half dozen at least, a half score if possible, but no more than that. |
| 11981 |
Having slept on the matter, he was prepared to advance the convict any sum up to thirty pounds that would enable him to acquire a boat capable of taking him away from the settlement. Blood expressed his thanks becomingly, betraying no sign that he saw clearly into the true reason of the other's munificence. |
| 11982 |
That evening, on the beach, remote from all eyes, Peter Blood handed that sum to his new associate, and Nuttall went off with instructions to complete the purchase late on the following day. He was to bring the boat to the wharf, where under cover of night Blood and his fellow convicts would join him and make off. |
| 11983 |
In Pitt's hut, which he shared with five other rebels convict, all of whom were to join in this bid for liberty, a ladder had been constructed in secret during those nights of waiting. With this they were to surmount the stockade and gain the open. The risk of detection, so that they made little noise, was negligible. |
| 11984 |
He stood aside at the entrance to let them pass, and beyond the message of hope flashed by his eyes, he held no communication with them. He entered the stockade in their wake, and as they broke their ranks to seek their various respective huts, he beheld Colonel Bishop in talk with Kent, the overseer. |
| 11985 |
The doctor was kept in constant attendance upon him until long after midnight, when at last he was able to ease the sufferer a little by a bleeding. Thereupon he would have withdrawn. But Steed would not hear of it. Blood must sleep in his own chamber to be at hand in case of need. It was as if Fate made sport of him. |
| 11986 |
On that pretext, he made an excursion into the awakening town, and went straight to Nuttall, whom he found in a state of livid panic. The unfortunate debtor, who had sat up waiting through the night, conceived that all was discovered and that his own ruin would be involved. Peter Blood quieted his fears. |
| 11987 |
The fact that the Governor's condition had so far improved as to restore him his freedom of movement had sufficed to remove the depression under which he had been labouring for the past twelve hours and more. In its rebound the mercury of his mood had shot higher far than present circumstances warranted. |
| 11988 |
The Secretary's office might be troublesome, but not really troublesome for another twenty four hours at least; and by then they would be well away. This joyous confidence of his was his first misfortune. The next was that his good spirits were also shared by Miss Bishop, and that she bore no rancour. |
| 11989 |
She had but come to enquire of the Governor's health at her uncle's request. So he waited, and so they rode back together to Colonel Bishop's house. They rode very slowly, at a walking pace, and some whom they passed marvelled to see the doctor slave on such apparently intimate terms with his owner's niece. |
| 11990 |
One or two may have promised themselves that they would drop a hint to the Colonel. But the two rode oblivious of all others in the world that morning. He was telling her the story of his early turbulent days, and at the end of it he dwelt more fully than hitherto upon the manner of his arrest and trial. |
| 11991 |
So withered was he that it was hard to believe there were any juices left in him, yet juices there must have been, for he was sweating violently by the time he reached the stockade. At the entrance he almost ran into the overseer Kent, a squat, bow legged animal with the arms of a Hercules and the jowl of a bulldog. |
| 11992 |
Nuttall watched him go with satisfaction, and even noted the direction that he took. Then he plunged into the enclosure, to verify in mortification that Dr. Blood was not at home. A man of sense might have sat down and waited, judging that to be the quickest and surest way in the end. But Nuttall had no sense. |
| 11993 |
He flung out of the stockade again, hesitated a moment as to which direction he should take, and finally decided to go any way but the way that Kent had gone. He sped across the parched savannah towards the sugar plantation which stood solid as a rampart and gleaming golden in the dazzling June sunshine. |
| 11994 |
In the distance down one of these he espied some slaves at work. Nuttall entered the avenue and advanced upon them. They eyed him dully, as he passed them. Pitt was not of their number, and he dared not ask for him. He continued his search for best part of an hour, up one of those lanes and then down another. |
| 11995 |
Brute fury now awoke in him. Fiercely now he lashed those defenceless shoulders, accompanying each blow by blasphemy and foul abuse, until, stung beyond endurance, the lingering embers of his manhood fanned into momentary flame, Pitt sprang upon his tormentor. But as he sprang, so also sprang the watchful blacks. |
| 11996 |
Out over that sea his glance ranged miserably. In the roads, standing in for the shore before a gentle breeze that scarcely ruffled the sapphire surface of the Caribbean, came a stately red hulled frigate, flying the English ensign. Colonel Bishop halted to consider her, shading his eyes with his fleshly hand. |
| 11997 |
But in a measure as from pain his senses were mercifully dulled, he sank forward in the stocks, and hung there now in a huddled heap, faintly moaning. Colonel Bishop set his foot upon the crossbar, and leaned over his victim, a cruel smile on his full, coarse face. "Let that teach you a proper submission," said he. |
| 11998 |
Pitt had heard him, as we hear things in our dreams. At the moment so spent was he by his cruel punishment, and so deep was the despair into which he had fallen, that he no longer cared whether he lived or died. Soon, however, from the partial stupor which pain had mercifully induced, a new variety of pain aroused him. |
| 11999 |
Already one or two wherries were putting off from the wharf to board her. From where he stood, Mr. Blood could see the glinting of the brass cannons mounted on the prow above the curving beak head, and he could make out the figure of a seaman in the forechains on her larboard side, leaning out to heave the lead. |
| 12000 |
As those men stared from the eminence on which they stood, not yet understanding what had taken place, they saw the British Jack dip from the main truck and vanish into the rising cloud below. A moment more, and up through that cloud to replace the flag of England soared the gold and crimson banner of Castile. |
| 12001 |
He told her briefly who and what he was, and thereafter there was no conversation between them until they reached the big white house. It was all in darkness, which at least was reassuring. If the Spaniards had reached it, there would be lights. He knocked, but had to knock again and yet again before he was answered. |
| 12002 |
He had been imagining the unimaginable. He had pictured her down in that hell out of which he had just come. He had conceived that she might have followed her uncle into Bridgetown, or committed some other imprudence, and he turned cold from head to foot at the mere thought of what might have happened to her. |
| 12003 |
He had much to do. His journey into the town had not been one of idle curiosity to see how the Spaniards conducted themselves in victory. It had been inspired by a very different purpose, and he had gained in the course of it all the information he desired. He had an extremely busy night before him, and must be moving. |
| 12004 |
Above, two sentinels only kept vigil, at stem and stern. Nor were they as vigilant as they should have been, or else they must have observed the two wherries that under cover of the darkness came gliding from the wharf, with well greased rowlocks, to bring up in silence under the great ship's quarter. |
| 12005 |
Who could have dreamed that a handful of forgotten plantation slaves would have dared to take so much upon themselves? The half drunken Spaniards, their laughter suddenly quenched, the song perishing on their lips, stared, stricken and bewildered at the levelled muskets by which they were checkmated. |
| 12006 |
But, at least, they were complete before the sun peeped over the shoulder of Mount Hilibay to shed his light upon a day of some surprises. It was soon after sunrise that the rebel convict who paced the quarter deck in Spanish corselet and headpiece, a Spanish musket on his shoulder, announced the approach of a boat. |
| 12007 |
Don Diego mounted the ladder and stepped upon the deck, alone, and entirely unsuspicious. What should the poor man suspect? Before he could even look round, and survey this guard drawn up to receive him, a tap over the head with a capstan bar efficiently handled by Hagthorpe put him to sleep without the least fuss. |
| 12008 |
He was carried away to his cabin, whilst the treasure chests, handled by the men he had left in the boat, were being hauled to the deck. That being satisfactorily accomplished, Don Esteban and the fellows who had manned the boat came up the ladder, one by one, to be handled with the same quiet efficiency. |
| 12009 |
They were still cursing him when a second shot, better aimed than the first, came to crumple one of the boats into splinters, flinging its crew, dead and living, into the water. But if it silenced these, it gave tongue, still more angry, vehement, and bewildered to the crews of the other seven boats. |
| 12010 |
From each the suspended oars stood out poised over the water, whilst on their feet in the excitement the Spaniards screamed oaths at the ship, begging Heaven and Hell to inform them what madman had been let loose among her guns. Plump into their middle came a third shot, smashing a second boat with fearful execution. |
| 12011 |
Some were for going ashore, others for heading straight to the vessel and there discovering what might be amiss. That something was very gravely amiss there could be no further doubt, particularly as whilst they discussed and fumed and cursed two more shots came over the water to account for yet a third of their boats. |
| 12012 |
As with one accord they went about, or attempted to do so, for before they had accomplished it two more of their boats had been sunk. The three boats that remained, without concerning themselves with their more unfortunate fellows, who were struggling in the water, headed back for the wharf at speed. |
| 12013 |
A half dozen of them, apart from Jeremy Pitt, who was utterly incapacitated for the present, possessed a superficial knowledge of seamanship. Hagthorpe, although he had been a fighting officer, untrained in navigation, knew how to handle a ship, and under his directions they set about getting under way. |
| 12014 |
He cursed them aloud venomously and incoherently, then loosed his hold and stepped out upon the plank. Three steps he took before he lost his balance and went tumbling into the green depths below. When he came to the surface again, gasping for air, the Cinco Llagas was already some furlongs to leeward. |
| 12015 |
The recumbent man looked up bewildered into a pair of light blue eyes that regarded him out of a tawny, sardonic face set in a cluster of black ringlets. But he was too bewildered to make any answer. The stranger's fingers touched the top of Don Diego's head, whereupon Don Diego winced and cried out in pain. |
| 12016 |
True, we are fortunately a small number, but you and your party inconveniently increase it. So that on every hand, you see, prudence suggests to us that we should deny ourselves the pleasure of your company, and, steeling our soft hearts to the inevitable, invite you to be so obliging as to step over the side. |
| 12017 |
And because those who manned her were new to the seas of the Spanish Main, and because even the things that had happened in Bridgetown were not enough to teach them to regard every Spaniard as a treacherous, cruel dog to be slain at sight, they used him with the civility which his own suave urbanity invited. |
| 12018 |
Whatever his antecedents, he had proved his quality when he announced himself ready to die sooner than enter into any undertaking that could hurt his honour or his country. New to the seas of the Spanish Main and to the ways of the adventurers who sailed it, Captain Blood still entertained illusions. |
| 12019 |
But the next dawn was to shatter them rudely and for ever. Coming on deck before the sun was up, he saw land ahead, as the Spaniard had promised them last night. Some ten miles ahead it lay, a long coast line filling the horizon east and west, with a massive headland jutting forward straight before them. |
| 12020 |
But presently the Encarnacion will be sufficiently close to perceive that here all is not as it should be. Sooner or later, she must guess or discover what is wrong, and then she will open fire or lay us board and board. Now, we are in no case to fight, as your father knew when he ran us into this trap. |
| 12021 |
She also bore two treasure chests containing fifty thousand pieces of eight. Gold has at all times been considered the best of testimonies of good faith, and Blood was determined that in all respects appearances should be entirely on his side. His followers had accounted this a supererogation of pretence. |
| 12022 |
As they returned to the ship's side, Blood's eyes anxiously scanned the line of seamen leaning over the bulwarks in idle talk with the Spaniards in the cock boat that waited at the ladder's foot. But their manner showed him that there was no ground for his anxiety. The boat's crew had been wisely reticent. |
| 12023 |
As they were pulling away, the Admiral waving to them from the taffrail, they heard the shrill whistle of the bo'sun piping the hands to their stations, and before they had reached the Cinco Llagas, they beheld the Encarnacion go about under sail. She dipped her flag to them, and from her poop a gun fired a salute. |
| 12024 |
In other respects, however, the articles were different. Aboard the Arabella there was to be none of the ruffianly indiscipline that normally prevailed in buccaneering vessels. Those who shipped with him undertook obedience and submission in all things to himself and to the officers appointed by election. |
| 12025 |
The man was tall and built on lines of agile strength, with a swarthy, aquiline face that was brutally handsome. A diamond of great price flamed on the indifferently clean hand resting on the pummel of his long rapier, and there were gold rings in his ears, half concealed by long ringlets of oily chestnut hair. |
| 12026 |
Levasseur had brought them back to Tortuga from an indifferently successful cruise. It would need more, however, than lack of success to abate the fellow's monstrous vanity. A roaring, quarrelsome, hard drinking, hard gaming scoundrel, his reputation as a buccaneer stood high among the wild Brethren of the Coast. |
| 12027 |
There was about his gaudy, swaggering raffishness something that the women found singularly alluring. That he should boast openly of his bonnes fortunes did not seem strange to Captain Blood; what he might have found strange was that there appeared to be some measure of justification for these boasts. |
| 12028 |
No doubt mademoiselle's brother recognizing Levasseur's ship would be responsible for the Dutch uneasiness. They saw the Jongvrouw crowding canvas in a futile endeavour to outsail them, whereupon they stood off to starboard and raced on until they were in a position whence they could send a warning shot across her bow. |
| 12029 |
Gloriously heroic he seemed as he stood towering there, masterful, audacious, beautiful. He saw her, and with a glad shout sprang towards her. The Dutch master got in his way with hands upheld to arrest his progress. Levasseur did not stay to argue with him: he was too impatient to reach his mistress. |
| 12030 |
Thereafter, what time the Captain languished in his lady's smile within the cabin, Cahusac was dealing with the spoils of war. The Dutch crew was ordered into the longboat, and bidden go to the devil. Fortunately, as they numbered fewer than thirty, the longboat, though perilously overcrowded, could yet contain them. |
| 12031 |
But no smile answered him from her set face. She had seen her beloved hero's nature in curl papers, as it were, and she found the spectacle disgusting and terrifying. It recalled the brutal slaughter of the Dutch captain, and suddenly she realized that what her brother had just said of this man was no more than true. |
| 12032 |
He came to report that they had sprung a leak between wind and water, the consequence of damage sustained from one of the Dutchman's shots. In alarm Levasseur went off with him. The leakage was not serious so long as the weather kept fine; but should a storm overtake them it might speedily become so. |
| 12033 |
Enthroned upon an empty cask sat the French filibuster to transact important business: the business of making himself safe with the Governor of Tortuga. A guard of honour of a half dozen officers hung about him; five of them were rude boucan hunters, in stained jerkins and leather breeches; the sixth was Cahusac. |
| 12034 |
Near at hand, and also under guard, but unpinioned, mademoiselle his sister sat hunched upon a hillock of sand. She was very pale, and it was in vain that she sought to veil in a mask of arrogance the fears by which she was assailed. Levasseur addressed himself to M. d'Ogeron. He spoke at long length. |
| 12035 |
When you do, you will not persist in your refusal. You will not do that in any case. We have spurs for the reluctant. And I warn you against giving me your parole under stress, and afterwards playing me false. I shall know how to find and punish you. Meanwhile, remember your sister's honour is in pawn to me. |
| 12036 |
Launching himself upon the yielding sand, into which he sank to the level of the calves of his fine boots of Spanish leather, Captain Blood came sliding erect to the beach. He was followed by Wolverstone, and a dozen others. As he came to a standstill, he doffed his hat, with a flourish, to the lady. |
| 12037 |
But it seemed that he had left out of his reckoning something which his opponent had counted in. For as, laughing still, Levasseur swung to his officers, he saw that which choked the laughter in his throat. Captain Blood had shrewdly played upon the cupidity that was the paramount inspiration of those adventurers. |
| 12038 |
Cahusac dived after them, his fellows with him. Vengeance must wait. For some moments they groped there on hands and knees, oblivious of all else. And yet in those moments vital things were happening. Levasseur, his hand on his sword, his face a white mask of rage, was confronting Captain Blood to hinder his departure. |
| 12039 |
Meanwhile, two of Blood's men who had taken the place of the Frenchman's negro guards, had removed the crown of whipcord from his brow. As for mademoiselle, she had risen, and was leaning forward, a hand pressed tightly to her heaving breast, her face deathly pale, a wild terror in her eyes. It was soon over. |
| 12040 |
Wine and food had been placed upon the table by Benjamin, Captain Blood's negro steward and cook, who had intimated to them that it was for their entertainment. But it had remained untouched. Brother and sister sat there in agonized bewilderment, conceiving that their escape was but from frying pan to fire. |
| 12041 |
So when it came to fitting out his fleet for that enterprise against Maracaybo, which had originally been Levasseur's project, he did not want for either ships or men to follow him. He recruited five hundred adventurers in all, and he might have had as many thousands if he could have offered them accommodation. |
| 12042 |
Cahusac appeared to be having it all his own way, and he raised his harsh, querulous voice so that all might hear his truculent denunciation. He spoke, Pitt tells us, a dreadful kind of English, which the shipmaster, however, makes little attempt to reproduce. His dress was as discordant as his speech. |
| 12043 |
Laughter broke from them. It spread into a roar of acclamation; for bluff is a weapon dear to every adventurer. Presently, when they understood it, even Cahusac's French followers were carried off their feet by that wave of jocular enthusiasm, until in his truculent obstinacy Cahusac remained the only dissentient. |
| 12044 |
She was followed at a distance by the Elizabeth, commanded by Hagthorpe, with whom was the now shipless Cahusac and the bulk of his French followers. The rear was brought up by the second sloop and some eight canoes, aboard of which had been shipped the prisoners, the slaves, and most of the captured merchandise. |
| 12045 |
Their place was to be in the rear and they were to take no part whatever in the coming fight. As the first glimmerings of opalescent dawn dissolved the darkness, the straining eyes of the buccaneers were able to make out the tall rigging of the Spanish vessels, riding at anchor less than a quarter of a mile ahead. |
| 12046 |
Entirely without suspicion as the Spaniards were, and rendered confident by their own overwhelming strength, it is unlikely that they used a vigilance keener than their careless habit. Certain it is that they did not sight Blood's fleet in that dim light until some time after Blood's fleet had sighted them. |
| 12047 |
His six men stood at their posts on the larboard side, stark naked, each armed with a grapnel, four of them on the gunwale, two of them aloft. At the moment of impact these grapnels were slung to bind the Spaniard to them, those aloft being intended to complete and preserve the entanglement of the rigging. |
| 12048 |
Boarded now and faced by the cold steel of the buccaneers, neither the San Felipe nor the Infanta offered much resistance. The sight of their admiral in flames, and the Salvador drifting crippled from the action, had so utterly disheartened them that they accounted themselves vanquished, and laid down their arms. |
| 12049 |
Thence, some in boats and some by swimming, the Admiral got his crew ashore on Palomas as best he could. And then, just as Captain Blood accounted the victory won, and that his way out of that trap to the open sea beyond lay clear, the fort suddenly revealed its formidable and utterly unsuspected strength. |
| 12050 |
Meanwhile it had fared even worse with the frailer Infanta. Although hit by one shot only, this had crushed her larboard timbers on the waterline, starting a leak that must presently have filled her, but for the prompt action of the experienced Yberville in ordering her larboard guns to be flung overboard. |
| 12051 |
If your excellency should be so ill advised as to refuse these terms, and thereby impose upon me the necessity of reducing your fort at the cost of some lives, I warn you that you may expect no quarter from us, and that I shall begin by leaving a heap of ashes where this pleasant city of Maracaybo now stands. |
| 12052 |
His choice of a messenger was shrewd. The Deputy Governor was of all men the most anxious for the deliverance of his city, the one man who on his own account would plead most fervently for its preservation at all costs from the fate with which Captain Blood was threatening it. And as he reckoned so it befell. |
| 12053 |
Indian spies whom he employed brought him word that the Spaniards, working at low tide, had salved the thirty guns of the Salvador, and thus had added yet another battery to their already overwhelming strength. In the end, and hoping for inspiration on the spot, Captain Blood made a reconnaissance in person. |
| 12054 |
And there, indeed, went the piraguas on their way back to the ships. But now it was observed that they were empty, save for the men who rowed them. Their armed cargo had been left ashore. Back to the ships they pulled, to return again presently with a fresh load of armed men, which similarly they conveyed to Palomas. |
| 12055 |
And now there arose on the night air such a sound of human baffled fury as may have resounded about Babel at the confusion of tongues. To heighten that confusion, and to scatter disorder among the Spanish soldiery, the Elizabeth emptied her larboard guns into the fort as she was swept past on the swift ebb. |
| 12056 |
It was answered by a terrific broadside from the Arabella, which had now drawn abreast, and was crowding canvas to her yards. The enraged and gibbering Spaniards had a brief vision of her as the line of flame spurted from her red flank, and the thunder of her broadside drowned the noise of the creaking halyards. |
| 12057 |
It placed him in the rare position of being able to pick and choose the crews for his augmented fleet, and he chose fastidiously. When next he sailed away it was with a fleet of five fine ships in which went something over a thousand men. Thus you behold him not merely famous, but really formidable. |
| 12058 |
Hate was now this unfortunate man's daily bread, and the hope of vengeance an obsession to his mind. As a madman he went raging up and down the Caribbean seeking his enemy, and in the meantime, as an hors d'oeuvre to his vindictive appetite, he fell upon any ship of England or of France that loomed above his horizon. |
| 12059 |
His lordship did not omit the consideration that Blood's present outlawry might well have been undertaken not from inclination, but under stress of sheer necessity; that he had been forced into it by the circumstances of his transportation, and that he would welcome the opportunity of emerging from it. |
| 12060 |
Later he was to remember and perceive in her present behaviour a certain oddness which went disregarded now. "Blood purchased their consent, and his right to carry the girl off. He paid them in pearls that were worth more than twenty thousand pieces of eight." His lordship laughed again with a touch of contempt. |
| 12061 |
Lord Julian himself was none so steady, and his face was undoubtedly pale. Not that he was by any means a coward. But this cooped up fighting on an unknown element in a thing of wood that might at any moment founder under his feet into the depths of ocean was disturbing to one who could be brave enough ashore. |
| 12062 |
Certainly she, too, was pale, and her hazel eyes may have looked a little larger than usual. But she had herself well in hand. Half sitting, half leaning on the Captain's table, she preserved her courage sufficiently to seek to calm the octoroon waiting woman who was grovelling at her feet in a state of terror. |
| 12063 |
They went, of course. For one thing the Spaniard had force to compel them; for another a ship which he announced to be sinking offered them little inducement to remain. They stayed no longer than was necessary to enable Miss Bishop to collect some spare articles of dress and my lord to snatch up his valise. |
| 12064 |
Urbanely he desired to have the honour of being acquainted with their names. Lord Julian, sick with horror of the spectacle he had just witnessed, commanded himself with difficulty to supply them. Then haughtily he demanded to know in his turn the name of their aggressor. He was in an exceedingly ill temper. |
| 12065 |
He realized that if he had done nothing positively discreditable in the unusual and difficult position into which Fate had thrust him, at least he had done nothing creditable. This might have mattered less but that the spectator of his indifferent performance was a lady. He was determined if possible to do better now. |
| 12066 |
Lord Julian took a turn in the long low cabin, which was lighted by a skylight above and great square windows astern. It was luxuriously appointed: there were rich Eastern rugs on the floor, well filled bookcases stood against the bulkheads, and there was a carved walnut sideboard laden with silverware. |
| 12067 |
To her it was just a great ship that was heading resolutely, majestically, towards them, and an Englishman to judge by the pennon she was flying. The sight thrilled her curiously; it awoke in her an uplifting sense of pride that took no account of the danger to herself in the encounter that must now be inevitable. |
| 12068 |
His eyes were alight, his face transfigured. He flung out an arm to point to the advancing ship, and bawled something in Spanish that was lost to them in the noise of the labouring crew. They advanced to the poop rail, and watched the bustle. Telescope in hand on the quarter deck, Don Miguel was issuing his orders. |
| 12069 |
She was furling tops and mainsail, stripping in fact to mizzen and sprit for the coming action. Thus, almost silently without challenge or exchange of signals, had action been mutually determined. Of necessity now, under diminished sail, the advance of the Arabella was slower; but it was none the less steady. |
| 12070 |
She was already within saker shot, and they could make out the figures stirring on her forecastle and the brass guns gleaming on her prow. The gunners of the Milagrosa raised their linstocks and blew upon their smouldering matches, looking up impatiently at the Admiral. But the Admiral solemnly shook his head. |
| 12071 |
Her beak head was in splinters, and a shot had smashed through into the great cabin, reducing it to wreckage. Don Miguel was bawling orders wildly, and peering ever and anon through the curtain of smoke that was drifting slowly astern, in his anxiety to ascertain how it might have fared with the Hidalga. |
| 12072 |
There was a rattle and clank of metal as a dozen grapnels fell, and tore and caught in the timbers of the Milagrosa, and the Spaniard was firmly gripped in the tentacles of the English ship. Beyond her and now well astern the veil of smoke was rent at last and the Hidalga was revealed in desperate case. |
| 12073 |
Never was confidence so quickly changed into despair, never was hunter more swiftly converted into helpless prey. For helpless the Spaniards were. The swiftly executed boarding manoeuvre had caught them almost unawares in the moment of confusion following the punishing broadside they had sustained at such short range. |
| 12074 |
Soon, however, the rage of that brief fight was spent. They saw the banner of Castile come fluttering down from the masthead. A buccaneer had slashed the halyard with his cutlass. The boarders were in possession, and on the upper deck groups of disarmed Spaniards stood huddled now like herded sheep. |
| 12075 |
Suddenly Miss Bishop recovered from her nausea, to lean forward staring wild eyed, whilst if possible her cheeks turned yet a deadlier hue than they had been already. Picking his way daintily through that shambles in the waist came a tall man with a deeply tanned face that was shaded by a Spanish headpiece. |
| 12076 |
His conqueror, who had not even troubled to disarm him, watched him go, then turned and faced those two immediately above him on the poop. Lord Julian might have observed, had he been less taken up with other things, that the fellow seemed suddenly to stiffen, and that he turned pale under his deep tan. |
| 12077 |
Yet, in spite of this, in spite even of the persuasion that to her this reflection that was his torment could bring no regrets, he had kept the thought of her ever before him in all those wild years of filibustering. He had used it as a curb not only upon himself, but also upon those who followed him. |
| 12078 |
It was, you will remember, stipulated in their articles that in these as in other matters they must submit to the commands of their leader. And because of the singular good fortune which had attended his leadership, he had been able to impose that stern condition of a discipline unknown before among buccaneers. |
| 12079 |
Thief and pirate! How the words clung, how they stung and burnt his brain! It did not occur to him, being no psychologist, nor learned in the tortuous workings of the feminine mind, that the fact that she should bestow upon him those epithets in the very moment and circumstance of their meeting was in itself curious. |
| 12080 |
Else he might have concluded that if in a moment in which by delivering her from captivity he deserved her gratitude, yet she expressed herself in bitterness, it must be because that bitterness was anterior to the gratitude and deep seated. She had been moved to it by hearing of the course he had taken. |
| 12081 |
She should be justified. Thief and pirate should he prove henceforth; no more nor less; as bowelless, as remorseless, as all those others who had deserved those names. He would cast out the maudlin ideals by which he had sought to steer a course; put an end to this idiotic struggle to make the best of two worlds. |
| 12082 |
She had shown him clearly to which world he belonged. Let him now justify her. She was aboard his ship, in his power, and he desired her. He laughed softly, jeeringly, as he leaned on the taffrail, looking down at the phosphorescent gleam in the ship's wake, and his own laughter startled him by its evil note. |
| 12083 |
A sob broke from him to end that ribald burst of mirth. He took his face in his hands and found a chill moisture on his brow. Meanwhile, Lord Julian, who knew the feminine part of humanity rather better than Captain Blood, was engaged in solving the curious problem that had so completely escaped the buccaneer. |
| 12084 |
He found the Captain pacing the quarter deck, a man mentally exhausted from wrestling with the Devil, although of this particular occupation his lordship could have no possible suspicion. With the amiable familiarity he used, Lord Julian slipped an arm through one of the Captain's, and fell into step beside him. |
| 12085 |
Yet she had not been coming out, for her back was towards him, and she was moving in the same direction. He followed her, his mind too full of Captain Blood to be concerned just then with her movements. In the cabin he flung into a chair, and exploded, with a violence altogether foreign to his nature. |
| 12086 |
By the rail, immediately above and behind Lord Julian, stood Captain Blood in altercation with a one eyed giant, whose head was swathed in a red cotton kerchief, whose blue shirt hung open at the waist. As his lordship, moving forward, revealed himself, their voices ceased, and Blood turned to greet him. |
| 12087 |
Even now Blood had no eyes for that. He turned to look at Miss Bishop, marvelling a little, after the manner in which yesterday she had avoided him, that she should now venture upon the quarter deck. Her presence at this moment, and considering the nature of his altercation with Wolverstone, was embarrassing. |
| 12088 |
If ye're counting on pulling Bishop's heartstrings, ye're a bigger fool, Ogle, than I've always thought you was with anything but guns. There's no heaving to for such a matter as that unless you wants to make quite sure of our being sunk. Though we had a cargo of Bishop's nieces it wouldn't make him hold his hand. |
| 12089 |
That some of the men would rally to him, he was sure. But he was no less sure that the main body would oppose him, and prevail in spite of all that he could do, taking the chance that holding Miss Bishop to ransom seemed to afford them. And if they did that, one way or the other, Miss Bishop would be lost. |
| 12090 |
And that was practically the end of the matter. Lord Julian, the butt now of good humouredly ribald jests and half derisive acclamations, plunged away to his cabin for the commission, secretly rejoicing at a turn of events which enabled him so creditably to discharge the business on which he had been sent. |
| 12091 |
Meanwhile the bo'sun signalled to the Jamaica ships to send a boat, and the men in the waist broke their ranks and went noisily flocking to line the bulwarks and view the great stately vessels that were racing down towards them. As Ogle left the quarter deck, Blood turned, and came face to face with Miss Bishop. |
| 12092 |
Then the black brows came together above the vivid blue eyes, and thought swiftly closed the door upon his immediate surroundings. Things had not sped at all well with him in the past fortnight since his acceptance of the King's commission. There had been trouble with Bishop from the moment of landing. |
| 12093 |
And when the news of it reached Tortuga and the buccaneers who awaited his return, the name of Captain Blood, which had stood so high among the Brethren of the Coast, would become a byword, a thing of execration, and before all was done his life might pay forfeit for what would be accounted a treacherous defection. |
| 12094 |
And what chance had he, a desperate adventurer with a record of outlawry, against such a rival as that, a man of parts, moreover, as he was bound to admit? You conceive the bitterness of his soul. He beheld himself to be as the dog in the fable that had dropped the substance to snatch at a delusive shadow. |
| 12095 |
He sought comfort in a line on the open page before him: "levius fit patientia quicquid corrigere est nefas." Sought it, but hardly found it. A boat that had approached unnoticed from the shore came scraping and bumping against the great red hull of the Arabella, and a raucous voice sent up a hailing shout. |
| 12096 |
Blood broke the seal, and read. Pitt, loosely clad in shirt and breeches, leaned against the rail the while and watched him, unmistakable concern imprinted on his fair, frank countenance. Blood uttered a short laugh, and curled his lip. "It is a very peremptory summons," he said, and passed the note to his friend. |
| 12097 |
Because of this, it may have been that when he stepped on to the narrow mole, in the shadow of the shallow outer wall of the fort through whose crenels were thrust the black noses of its heavy guns, he gave order that the boat should stay for him at that spot. He realized that he might have to retreat in a hurry. |
| 12098 |
There was a perceptible heave of the slight breast that faintly swelled the flimsy bodice of white silk. But if she resented his tone and his words, she stifled her resentment. She realized that perhaps she had, herself, provoked his anger. She honestly desired to make amends. "You are mistaken," she began. |
| 12099 |
If I don't, it's for the same reason that once before I gave ye your life when it was forfeit. Ye're not aware of the reason, to be sure; but it may comfort ye to know that it exists. At the same time I'll warn ye not to put too heavy a strain on my generosity, which resides at the moment in my trigger finger. |
| 12100 |
When a man so risks his life for a woman, the rest is easily assumed. For the men who will take such risks without hope of personal gain are few. Blood was of those few, as he had proved in the case of Mary Traill. It needed no further assurances of his to convince her that she had done him a monstrous injustice. |
| 12101 |
Here the Commandant, who had been instructed to hold himself in readiness with the necessary men against the need to effect the arrest of Captain Blood, was amazed by the curious spectacle of the Deputy Governor of Jamaica strolling forth arm in arm and apparently on the friendliest terms with the intended prisoner. |
| 12102 |
They passed out of the gates unchallenged, and so came to the mole where the cock boat from the Arabella was waiting. They took their places side by side in the stern sheets, and were pulled away together, always very close and friendly, to the great red ship where Jeremy Pitt so anxiously awaited news. |
| 12103 |
Ye'll be so good as to send for them both aboard here, and inform them in my presence that the Arabella is leaving this afternoon on the King's service and is to pass out unmolested. And so as to make quite sure of their obedience, they shall go a little voyage with us, themselves. Here's what you require. |
| 12104 |
I should have known it for a sick man's dream. I have discovered also that if she's choosing you, as I believe she is, she's choosing wisely between us, and that's why I'll not have your life risked by keeping you aboard whilst the message goes by another who might bungle it. And now perhaps ye'll understand. |
| 12105 |
Captain Blood escorted his compulsory guest to the head of the ladder. Colonel Bishop, who for two hours and more had been in a state of mortal anxiety, breathed freely at last; and as the tide of his fears receded, so that of his deep rooted hate of this audacious buccaneer resumed its normal flow. |
| 12106 |
Peter Blood had no illusions. He was not, and never would be, the complete pirate. There was not another buccaneer in all the Caribbean who would have denied himself the pleasure of stringing Colonel Bishop from the yardarm, and by thus finally stifling the vindictive planter's hatred have increased his own security. |
| 12107 |
And so the Captain smiled into the sallow, bloated face and the little eyes that fixed him with a malevolence not to be dissembled. "A safe voyage home to you, Colonel, darling," said he in valediction, and from his easy, smiling manner you would never have dreamt of the pain he carried in his breast. |
| 12108 |
Very early next morning, before the heat of the day came to render the open intolerable to his lordship, he espied her from his window moving amid the azaleas in the garden. It was a fitting setting for one who was still as much a delightful novelty to him in womanhood as was the azalea among flowers. |
| 12109 |
As they went, he considered her admiringly, and marvelled at himself that it should have taken him so long fully to realize her slim, unusual grace, and to find her, as he now did, so entirely desirable, a woman whose charm must irradiate all the life of a man, and touch its commonplaces into magic. |
| 12110 |
She wore a gown of shimmering grey silk, and a scarlet rose, fresh gathered, was pinned at her breast like a splash of blood. Always thereafter when he thought of her it was as he saw her at that moment, as never, I think, until that moment had he seen her. In silence they paced on a little way into the green shade. |
| 12111 |
He did not immediately answer. He found that he had not sufficiently considered the terms he should employ, and the matter, after all, was of an exceeding delicacy, demanding delicate handling. It was not so much that he was concerned to deliver a message as to render it a vehicle by which to plead his own cause. |
| 12112 |
He was a man who deserved well. And amongst us we have marred his chances: your uncle, because he could not forget his rancour; you, because... because having told him that in the King's service he would find his redemption of what was past, you would not afterwards admit to him that he was so redeemed. |
| 12113 |
But because my death might cause you pain, because your happiness was the thing that above all things he desired, he surrendered that part of his guarantee of safety which my person afforded him. If his departure should be hindered, and I should lose my life in what might follow, there was the risk that. |
| 12114 |
For, as if an obscuring veil had suddenly been rent that morning, she was permitted at last to see Peter Blood in his true relations to other men, and that sight, vouchsafed her twenty four hours too late, filled her with pity and regret and yearning. Lord Julian knew enough of women to be left in no further doubt. |
| 12115 |
Yet both set out to hunt Captain Blood, each making of his duty a pretext for the satisfaction of personal aims; and that common purpose became a link between them, binding them in a sort of friendship that must otherwise have been impossible between men so dissimilar in breeding and in aspirations. |
| 12116 |
Anon when ashore he was beset by questioning buccaneers, it was from their very questions that he gathered exactly how matters stood, and perceived that either from lack of courage or other motive Blood, himself, had refused to render any account of his doings since the Arabella had separated from her sister ships. |
| 12117 |
Rum was in itself an effect, and not by any means the cause of the Captain's listless apathy. There was a canker eating at his heart, and the Old Wolf knew enough to make a shrewd guess of its nature. He cursed all things that daggled petticoats, and, knowing his world, waited for the sickness to pass. |
| 12118 |
But to all he manifested an indifference which, as the weeks passed and the weather became settled, begot first impatience and then exasperation. Christian, who commanded the Clotho, came storming to him one day, upbraiding him for his inaction, and demanding that he should take order about what was to do. |
| 12119 |
A sudden shame of his disordered, ill kempt appearance made him perhaps the more defiant. There was almost a significance in the way he hitched his sword belt round, so that the wrought hilt of his very serviceable rapier was brought into fuller view. He waved his captains to the chairs that stood about. |
| 12120 |
They are something severe. The first obligation of an officer is obedience. I commend it to your attention. You are not to conceive yourselves, as you appear to be doing, my allies in the enterprises I have in view, but my subordinates. In me you behold a commander to lead you, not a companion or an equal. |
| 12121 |
Out of this, trouble followed quickly. Wolverstone coming ashore next morning in the picturesque garb that he affected, his head swathed in a coloured handkerchief, was jeered at by an officer of the newly landed French troops. Not accustomed to derision, Wolverstone replied in kind and with interest. |
| 12122 |
In his right hand the gentleman carried a broad black hat with a scarlet ostrich plume, in his left hand an ebony cane. His stockings were of silk, a bunch of ribbons masked his garters, and the black rosettes on his shoes were finely edged with gold. For a moment M. de Rivarol did not recognize him. |
| 12123 |
In the class of warfare that lies before us they are so skilled that what Captain Blood has just said is not an overstatement. A buccaneer is equal to three soldiers of the line. At the same time we shall have a sufficient force to keep them in control. For the rest, monsieur, they have certain notions of honour. |
| 12124 |
We shall have added to the Crown of France the most coveted possession in the West Indies. The enterprise offers no particular difficulty; it may be speedily accomplished, and once accomplished, it would be time to look farther afield. That would seem the logical order in which this campaign should proceed. |
| 12125 |
He had suddenly read the Baron's mind. His airs and graces and haughtiness had so imposed upon Blood that it was only now that at last he saw through them, into the fellow's peddling spirit. Therefore he laughed; there was really nothing else to do. But his laughter was charged with more anger even than contempt. |
| 12126 |
I accepted the service of the King of France with intent to honour that service. I cannot honour that service by lending countenance to a waste of life and resources in raids upon unimportant settlements, with plunder for their only object. The responsibility for such decisions must rest with you, and with you alone. |
| 12127 |
He was heard respectfully and approvingly by his officers, scornfully by Captain Blood, and indifferently by the other buccaneer captains present. For it must be understood that Blood's refusal to attend councils had related only to those concerned with determining the nature of the enterprise to be undertaken. |
| 12128 |
M. de Rivarol looked at him sharply, suspecting irony. But the swarthy face was bland, the keen eyes steady. "Let us hear your suggestion," he consented. Blood pointed out the fort at the mouth of the inner harbour, which was just barely visible above the waving palms on the intervening tongue of land. |
| 12129 |
Supercilious until that moment, and disposed for his own pride's sake to treat the buccaneer's suggestions with cavalier criticism, M. de Rivarol's manner suddenly changed. He became alert and brisk, went so far as tolerantly to commend Captain Blood's plan, and issued orders that action might be taken upon it at once. |
| 12130 |
But at present, in his odd frame of mind, and its divorcement from piracy, he was content to smile his utter contempt of the French General. Not so, however, his captains, and still less his men. Resentment smouldered amongst them for a while, to flame out violently at the end of that week in Cartagena. |
| 12131 |
That done, he went at once in quest of M. de Rivarol. He found him in the offices which the Baron had set up in the town, with a staff of clerks to register the treasure brought in and to cast up the surrendered account books, with a view to ascertaining precisely what were the sums yet to be delivered up. |
| 12132 |
They had been quietly and secretly warped out of the harbour under cover of night, and three sails, faint and small, on the horizon to westward was all that remained to be seen of them. The absconding M. de Rivarol had gone off with the treasure, taking with him the troops and mariners he had brought from France. |
| 12133 |
Then only did Blood realize the rashness of his proposal, and in attempting to draw back he almost precipitated a battle between the two parties into which that same proposal had now divided the buccaneers. And meanwhile those French sails on the horizon were growing less and less. Blood was reduced to despair. |
| 12134 |
Unable to reach a decision, his own men and Hagthorpe's took the matter off his hands, eager to give chase to Rivarol. Not only was a dastardly cheat to be punished but an enormous treasure to be won by treating as an enemy this French commander who, himself, had so villainously broken the alliance. |
| 12135 |
It was two hours and more since they had brought up thereabouts, having crept thither unobserved by the city and by M. de Rivarol's ships, and all the time the air had been aquiver with the roar of guns from sea and land, announcing that battle was joined between the French and the defenders of Port Royal. |
| 12136 |
Indeed, to make her safe from bilging, Blood ordered a prompt jettisoning of the forward guns, anchors, and water casks and whatever else was moveable. Meanwhile, the Frenchmen going about, gave the like reception to the Elizabeth. The Arabella, indifferently served by the wind, pressed forward to come to grips. |
| 12137 |
And then in that very moment of his despair, the blue and gold flank of the Victorieuse loomed through the smoke. But even as he caught that enheartening glimpse he perceived, too, how sluggish now was their advance, and how with every second it grew more sluggish. They must sink before they reached her. |
| 12138 |
Within seven or eight yards of the Victorieuse, when their way seemed spent, and their forward deck already awash under the eyes of the jeering, cheering Frenchmen, those men leapt up and forward, and hurled their grapnels across the chasm. Of the four they flung, two reached the Frenchman's decks, and fastened there. |
| 12139 |
The advance guard of boarders, a hundred strong, was ordered to the poop, and his grapnel men were posted, and prompt to obey his command at the very moment of impact. As a result, the foundering Arabella was literally kept afloat by the half dozen grapnels that in an instant moored her firmly to the Victorieuse. |
| 12140 |
A moment she rocked after her release, then slowly and gradually settled down, the water gurgling and eddying about her topmasts, all that remained visible to mark the spot where she had met her death. As he stood there, above the ghastly shambles in the waist of the Victorieuse, some one spoke behind him. |
| 12141 |
His head piece was gone, his breastplate dinted, his right sleeve a rag hanging from his shoulder about a naked arm. He was splashed from head to foot with blood, and there was blood from a scalp wound that he had taken matting his hair and mixing with the grime of powder on his face to render him unrecognizable. |
| 12142 |
He rose when she entered, and if he was not as pale as she was, it was because his tan dissembled it. For a moment there was silence between them, as they stood looking each at the other. Then she moved forward, and began at last to speak, haltingly, in an unsteady voice, amazing in one usually so calm and deliberate. |
| 12143 |
Then this head was raised, and a pair of blue eyes solemnly regarded the prisoner. Colonel Bishop made a noise in his throat, and, paralyzed by amazement, stared into the face of his excellency the Deputy Governor of Jamaica, which was the face of the man he had been hunting in Tortuga to his present undoing. |
| 12144 |
Again it may have been the Frobisher blood and a consequent predilection for the sea which made him elect to serve upon that element. He enjoyed the advantage of holding a commission under the great de Ruyter, and he fought in the Mediterranean engagement in which that famous Dutch Admiral lost his life. |
| 12145 |
Blood and his associates had run to this buccaneer stronghold of Tortuga, assured of finding shelter there whilst they deliberated upon their future courses. They had chosen it because it was the one haven in the Caribbean where they could count upon being unmolested and where no questions would be asked of them. |
| 12146 |
Walls of rock, rising sheer, and towering like mountains, protect it upon either side and shape it into a miniature gulf. It is only to be approached by two channels demanding skilful pilotage. These were commanded by the Mountain Fort, a massive fortress with which man had supplemented the work of Nature. |
| 12147 |
He desired more particular knowledge of the men who had engaged in such an enterprise. He learned that they numbered not above a score and that they were all political offenders, rebels who in England had been out with Monmouth, preserved from the gallows because of the need of slaves in the West Indian plantations. |
| 12148 |
He learned all that was known of their leader, Peter Blood: that he was by trade a man of medicine, and the rest. It was understood that because of this, and with a view to resuming his profession, Blood desired to take ship for Europe at the first occasion and that most of his followers would accompany him. |
| 12149 |
These poor escaped convicts should be ready enough to sell a ship which had served its purpose by them, and they should not be exorbitant in their notions of her value. The cacao aboard the Bonaventure should more than suffice to pay for her. Captain Easterling smiled as he stroked his crisp black beard. |
| 12150 |
It was for him to profit by his perceptions. He made his way through the rudely built little town by the road white with coral dust, so white under the blazing sun that a man's eyes ached to behold it and sought instinctively the dark patches made by the shadows of the limp exiguous palms by which it was bordered. |
| 12151 |
Coming from the white glare outside into the cool spacious room to which was admitted only such light as filtered between the slats of the closed shutters; the Captain found himself almost in darkness until his eyes had adjusted themselves. The Governor offered him a chair, and gave him his attention. |
| 12152 |
In the matter of the cacao there was no difficulty. Monsieur d'Ogeron cared not whence it came. That he had no illusions on the subject was shown by the price per quintal at which he announced himself prepared to purchase. It was a price representing rather less than half the value of the merchandise. |
| 12153 |
They occupied the elegantly cushioned seats about the table of black oak, and Captain Easterling praised the Canary liberally so as to justify the liberality with which he consumed it. Thereafter he came to business by asking if Mr. Blood, upon reflection, had not perhaps changed his mind about selling the ship. |
| 12154 |
There were pearls and jewels from San Felipe of fabulous value, which Morgan had secretly appropriated for himself. But as the rumours grew and reached his ears, he became afraid of a search that should convict him. And so, midway on the journey across the Isthmus, he one night buried the treasure he had filched. |
| 12155 |
Some eight score of them swarmed in the waist, on the forecastle, and even on the poop, and all were armed. It was not necessary that Mr. Blood should point out to his companions how odd it was that all these fellows should have been summoned for the occasion from the taverns ashore which they usually frequented. |
| 12156 |
They had been elected, he announced, by the men, so that they might agree the articles on behalf of all. To these had been added a young Frenchman named Joinville, who was secretary to Monsieur d'Ogeron and stood there to represent the Governor and to lend, as it were, a legal sanction to what was to be done. |
| 12157 |
He began to suspect that Easterling sought to entice him into an act of rashness, in reply to which he and his followers would probably be butchered where they sat, and Monsieur Joinville would afterwards be constrained to bear witness to the Governor that the provocation had proceeded from the guests. |
| 12158 |
He made his preparations with leisureliness, and did not weigh anchor until the afternoon of the morrow. He trusted his wits to give him the direction Blood must take and depended upon the greater speed of the Bonaventure to overhaul him before he should have gone far enough for safety. His reasoning was shrewd enough. |
| 12159 |
For however disorderly and unruly Easterling's crew might be at ordinary times, it knew the need for discipline when battle was to be joined. Watchful on the poop the buccaneer captain surveyed the Spaniard upon which he was rapidly bearing down, and observed with scorn the scurry of preparation on her decks. |
| 12160 |
She gave him now a broadside from her starboard quarter, and by doing so sealed her own doom. The Bonaventure, coming head on, presented little target, and save for a round shot in her forecastle took no damage. Easterling answered the fire with the chasers on his prow, aiming high, and sweeping the Spaniard's decks. |
| 12161 |
Then, like an engulfing wave, the buccaneer mob went over the Spanish soldiers, and the ship, the Santa Barbara, was taken. There was not perhaps upon the seas at the time a more cruel, ruthless man than Easterling; and those who sailed with him adopted, as men will, their captain's standard of ferocity. |
| 12162 |
These six Easterling spared for the present because he accounted that they might prove useful. Whilst his men were busy in the shrouds about the urgent business of disentangling and where necessary repairing, the buccaneer captain began upon the person of Don Ildefonso the investigation of his capture. |
| 12163 |
The treasure in her hold was computed by Easterling, when his gleaming eyes came to consider those ingots, at between two and three hundred thousand pieces of eight. It was a prize such as does not come the way of a pirate twice in his career, and it meant fortune for himself and those who sailed with him. |
| 12164 |
He remained in no doubt of their significance. He might be a surgeon, but hardly a lubberly one as Chard so rashly judged him. His service under de Ruyter, in those earlier adventurous days when medicine was neglected by him, had taught him more of fighting tactics than Easterling had ever known. He was not perturbed. |
| 12165 |
Chard perceived at once the aim of the manoeuvre and swore through his teeth, for Blood had the weather gauge of him. He was further handicapped by the fact that, since the Cinco Llagas was to be captured for their own purposes, it must be no part of his work to cripple her by gunfire before attempting to board. |
| 12166 |
Easterling watched the two ships sailing away from him in a succession of such manoeuvres for position, and purple with rage demanded of Heaven and Hell whether he could believe his eyes, which told him only that Chard was running away from the lubberly leech. Chard, however, was far from any such intention. |
| 12167 |
It angered him, and in his anger he replied with his stern chasers; but their inferior calibre left their fire ineffective. Then, utterly enraged, he swung the Bonaventure about, so as to put a broadside athwart the hawse of the other, and by crippling her sailing powers lay her at the mercy of his boarders. |
| 12168 |
Instantly Blood swung broadside on, and emptied his twenty larboard guns into that smoke cloud, hoping to attain the Bonaventure's exposed flank beyond. The attempt was equally unsuccessful, but it served to show Chard the mettle of the man he was engaging, a man with whom it was not safe to take such chances. |
| 12169 |
Their fire conveyed very plainly to the Spanish newcomer that here he beheld a compatriot ship in pursuit of an English rover. Explanations, no doubt, must follow, especially if upon the discovery of the identity of the Cinco Llagas the Spaniards should happen to be already acquainted with her recent history. |
| 12170 |
The reflection, vexatious enough in itself, was maddening to Easterling when he considered what he carried under hatches. Fortune, it now began to seem, had not favoured him at all. She had merely mocked him by allowing him to grasp something which he could not hold. But this was by no means the end of his vexation. |
| 12171 |
If the Spaniards, on Hispaniola spare you when you land there, you can get back to your hunting and boucanning, for which ye're better fitted than the sea. Away with you now. But Easterling did not at once depart. He stood with feet planted wide, swaying on his powerful legs, clenching and unclenching his hands. |
| 12172 |
He watched the lowering of the boats, and was thereafter amazed to see the decks of the Santa Barbara empty of that angry, vociferous mob. The buccaneers had gone below before leaving, each man intent upon taking as much of the treasure as he could carry upon his person. Captain Blood became impatient. |
| 12173 |
The visitor, however, displayed no haste. He looked about him at the cool, spacious room with its handsome furnishings of carved oak and walnut, its tapestries and pictures, all imported from the Old World, and inquired, in that casual manner of the man who is at home in every environment, if he might be seated. |
| 12174 |
Quite recently, and quite fortuitously be it added, he had actually contributed materially to this desirable end, as he was not slow to mention. With chin high and chest puffed out, he moved, strutting, before Don Pedro as he delivered himself. It was gratifying to be appreciated in the proper quarter. |
| 12175 |
He saw to that. A troop of horse was in the neighbourhood at the time. It had descended upon the pirates and had taught them a sharp lesson. He laughed as he spoke of it; laughed at the thought of it; and Don Pedro politely laughed with him, desiring with courteous and appreciative interest to know more of this. |
| 12176 |
Some words were scarcely legible. The ink in which his own surname had been written had run into a smear, as had that of his government of Porto Rico, and some other words here and there. But the amazing substance of the letter was indeed as Don Pedro announced, and the royal signature was unimpaired. |
| 12177 |
Yet she hesitated to deny him. Kinship when claimed by gentlemen charged by kings with missions of investiture is not lightly to be denied in the presence of such a husband as Don Jayme. And, after all, hers was a considerable family, and must include many with whom she was not personally acquainted. |
| 12178 |
The years might have given you height and slenderness; the sun might have tanned your face, and under your black periwig your hair may still be fair, though I take leave to doubt it. But what, I ask myself, could have changed the colour of your eyes? For your eyes are blue, and Pedro's were dark brown. |
| 12179 |
Thus, on the third night at supper, Don Pedro cast out the suggestion that his Excellency should signalize the honour with which the King had distinguished him by some gesture that should mark the occasion and render it memorable in the annals of the island. Don Jayme swallowed the suggestion avidly. |
| 12180 |
Don Jayme's loud, coarse laugh derided his fastidiousness. Nevertheless, the Governor flicked out a handkerchief that was sprayed with verbena, and thereafter at intervals held it to his nostrils. Wolverstone and his five associates, heavily loaded with irons, were in a group a little apart from their fellow prisoners. |
| 12181 |
This seems to me to impose a duty upon us. We may not be patriots, as ye say, Wolverstone and we may not be altruists. If we go to warn and remain to assist, we do so as mercenaries, whose services are to be paid for by a garrison which should be very glad to hire them. Thus we reconcile duty with profit. |
| 12182 |
The southern channel was safe only for vessels of shallow draught; in the narrow, northern channel, however, at the entrance to which the Arabella now rode at anchor, there was never less than eight fathoms, at times slightly increased by the small tides of this sea, so that this was the only gateway to the bay. |
| 12183 |
Strips of turf faced it so that it merged into the background of shallow cliff; cocoanut palms topped it and rose about it, clumps of white acacia and arnotto trees masked the gun emplacements so effectively as to render them invisible at half a mile. Colonel Courtney conceived that here was a deal of wasted labour. |
| 12184 |
Livid, he demanded why so insane a measure should have been taken, and this without consulting him. With a note of weariness in his voice, Captain Blood explained what should have been obvious. It gave some pause to the Governor's anger. Yet the suspicions natural to a man of such limited vision were not quieted. |
| 12185 |
The beasts were duly delivered and in the days that followed the buccaneers became buccaneers in earnest; the boucan fires were lighted on the shores of Willoughby's Cove, and there the flesh of the slaughtered animals was boucanned together with a quantity of turtle which the adventurers captured thereabouts. |
| 12186 |
Negroes and buccaneers and men of the Antiguan militia were indiscriminately employed on the business and harnessed to the guns. Even so it took an hour to get them all clear of the rubble and emplaced anew on the landward side of the fort, where Ogle and his men proceeded once more to load and carefully to lay them. |
| 12187 |
Already the afternoon was well advanced and he would house his men in Saint John's before nightfall. The haze of dust and smoke, whilst serving to screen the defenders and their new emplacements from the sight of the enemy, could yet be penetrated at close quarters by the watchful eyes of the buccaneers. |
| 12188 |
Upon this they acted, and with sails trimmed to the favouring breeze, and shortened so as to lessen the gurgle of water at their prows, they nosed gently forward through the velvety gloom. With the Virgen leading, they reached the entrance of the harbour and the darker waters between the shadowy bluffs on either side. |
| 12189 |
With his survivors he clambered aboard one of the frigates, the Indiana, which, unable to check her way in time, had crashed into him astern. Moving very slowly, the Indiana had suffered little damage beyond a smashed bowsprit, and her captain, acting promptly, had taken in what little sail he carried. |
| 12190 |
They brought all ashore: arms and armour, some of great price, a service of gold plate, vessels of gold and silver, two steelbound coffers, being presumably the treasury of the squadron and containing some six thousand pieces of eight, besides jewels, clothes, Oriental carpets, and rich brocades from the great cabin. |
| 12191 |
Ye've no imagination, as I suspected yesterday. Your muleteer gave me a glimpse of what to expect from you. I took my measures accordingly, so I did. I left orders with my lieutenant to assume at twelve o'clock that war had been declared, and to land the guns and haul them to the fort, whence they command the town. |
| 12192 |
Then he was rolled over on to his back, lifted, forced into a chair, and lashed by the waist to that. A man of low stature and powerful, apelike build, long in the body and short in the legs, was leaning over him. The sleeves of his blue shirt were rolled to the elbows of his prodigious, long, muscular and hairy arms. |
| 12193 |
Then there was the creak of a bed as the woman flung herself violently upon it, and thereafter silence. Captain Blood accounted her part in this business explained, and more or less ended. He looked up into the face of his sometime associate, and his lips smiled to simulate a calm he was far from feeling. |
| 12194 |
Understanding, Captain Blood abandoned his desperate clutch of the only slender straw of hope that he had discovered in the situation. He realized that he was to wait here, helpless in his bonds, until the time appointed for his delivery to someone who should carry him off to Don Miguel de Espinosa. |
| 12195 |
He could found no hope upon the search that. Hayton and the others would presently be making. That, as he had said, they would turn the place inside out, he never doubted. But he never doubted, either, that they would come too late. They might hunt down his betrayers, and wreak a terrible vengeance upon them. |
| 12196 |
A moment he surveyed them now, observing the evil greed in the eyes of each as they watched the fall of the dice over their trifling stakes from the gold and trinkets of which they had rifled him, and over which they were gaming to beguile the time of waiting. And then he heard his own crisp voice breaking the silence. |
| 12197 |
Vindictive though he might be towards the Captain, the venal scoundrel preferred his enemy's gold to his blood, and it was easy to guess the bitterness in which he saw himself compelled to forgo the more tangible satisfaction, simply because of the risks with which acceptance would be fraught for his associate. |
| 12198 |
Knowing their drinking habit, and how easily suggestion must arouse their desire to indulge it, he had hoped to send one of them upon that errand, and that the one to go would be Sam. With Cahusac he was sure he could make a deal at once. And then Cahusac, the fool, ruined all by his excessive eagerness. |
| 12199 |
The minutes sped, and Sam, elbows on the table and head in his hand, sat still and thoughtful. When at last he looked up, and the yellow light beat once more upon his face, Blood saw that it was pallid and gleaming. He tried to conjecture how far the poison he had dropped into Sam's mind might have done its work. |
| 12200 |
A moment later he was doubled up by pain, and his hands were clawing and clutching at his stomach. Then he mastered himself, and without any thought now for Blood, or anything but the torment at work upon his vitals, he reeled across the room and pulled the door wide. The effort seemed to increase his agony. |
| 12201 |
Again he was taken by a cramp that doubled him until his chest was upon his knees, and he howled the while, blaspheming at first, but presently uttering mere inarticulate, animal noises. He collapsed at last upon the floor, a raving, writhing lunatic. Captain Blood considered him grimly, amazed but no whit intrigued. |
| 12202 |
The riddle did not even require the key supplied by the single word that Sam had ejaculated. It was very plain to read. Never had poetic retribution more fitly and promptly overtaken a pair of villains. Cahusac had loaded the wine with the poison of the manchineel apple, so readily procurable in Tortuga. |
| 12203 |
He questioned him closely as to the nature of the country they would have to cross and the fortifications defending Santa Maria. Brazo Largo put everything in the most favourable light, smoothed away all difficulties, and promised not only himself to guide them, but to provide bearers to convey their gear. |
| 12204 |
Gifts were exchanged, knives, scissors, and beads on the one side, against plantains and sugarcane on the other; and, reinforced here by scores of Indians, the buccaneers pushed on. They came on the morrow to the river of Santa Maria, on which they embarked in a fleet of some seventy canoes of Indian providing. |
| 12205 |
Then, not daring to make a fire lest they should betray their presence, they posted sentries, and lay down to rest until daybreak. It was Blood's hope to take the Spaniards so completely by surprise as to seize their town before they could put themselves in posture of defence, and so snatch a bloodless victory. |
| 12206 |
Being, however, averse to unnecessary bloodshed, and eager to make an end without further fighting, he returned a message to Don Domingo, pledging his word that if he would surrender at discretion, no violence should be done to the life or ultimate liberty of the garrison or the inhabitants of Santa Maria. |
| 12207 |
Overmastering terror of the advancing Indian froze the crouching woman's tongue. Now he was standing over her. He stooped and set his hand upon her shrinking shoulder. He spoke to her swiftly in the guttural tongue of Darien, and though Blood understood no word of it, yet he could not mistake the note of stern command. |
| 12208 |
But however deserving of punishment that abduction might appear, it was also revealed that, whether the girl had gone off willingly or not with the Spanish captain, his subsequent treatment of her had been such that she now desired to stay with him, and was concerned to the point of madness for his life and safety. |
| 12209 |
You should have told me, my friend, before we came this journey, that you were using me so that we might deliver up to you your Spanish enemy and your daughter. Then I should not have passed my word to Don Domingo that he would be safe, and you could have drunk the blood of every Spaniard in the place. |
| 12210 |
The frigate Cygne, which had brought him a week ago, had been at anchor since in Cayona Bay, and would continue there until the young gentleman should see fit to depart again. From this his social consequence may be inferred. Obviously he was a person whose wishes a colonial governor would do his utmost to respect. |
| 12211 |
With the vigour of a man he combined the gentleness of a woman. Anything less like a conspirator, which he had been, and a buccaneer, which he was, it would be impossible to conceive. He had, too, ingratiating ways and a gift of almost poetical expression to complete his equipment as the ideal lover. |
| 12212 |
He had charming eyes and a charming voice, and was altogether a charming person, impeccable as to dress and manners. In build he was almost tall, but so slight and frail that he looked as if a strong wind might blow him over; yet he possessed an assurance of address oddly at variance with his almost valetudinarian air. |
| 12213 |
It was like Blood, whom he bitterly denounced as without faith and without ideals, to think so vilely of the sweetest, purest saint in all the world. On that he flung out of the cabin, and left the Captain free to return to his Horace. Blood, however, had planted a rankling seed in our young lover's heart. |
| 12214 |
Hagthorpe was with him. Tondeur followed closely, and others brought up the rear. Captain Blood, with Wolverstone at his side, went with the crowd, controlling himself now with difficulty. The inner room was spacious and almost bare. What few chairs and tables it contained were swiftly thrust aside. |
| 12215 |
Yet he did not go in to finish. Was he deliberately playing with his victim as cat with mouse, or was it perhaps that, standing a little in awe of Blood and of possible consequences should he kill Pitt outright, he aimed merely at disabling him? The spectators, beholding what they beheld, were puzzled by the delay. |
| 12216 |
As Governor of Tortuga, some formal explanation was due to him, even though his acquaintance with the combatants should render it almost unnecessary. Jeremy, at all times ready to visit the Governor's house on any pretext, was this morning more than willing, the events having set about him a heroic halo. |
| 12217 |
On the third day out they were picked up by the Spanish galleon Estremadura, to the jubilation of the two Spaniards and the dismay at first of Captain Blood. However he put a bold face on the matter and trusted to fortune and to the ragged condition in which he went aboard the galleon to escape recognition. |
| 12218 |
Don Juan, in high spirits and apparently none the worse for last night's carouse, came to join him on the poop and to inform him of that which he already knew, but of which he was careful to betray no knowledge. For a couple of hours they held to their course, driving straight before the wind with shortened sail. |
| 12219 |
The fort would be the only antagonist in the preliminary duel. A shot just then across the Estremadura's bows proclaimed that at least the commandant of the fort was a man who understood his business. Despite that definite signal to heave to, the Estremadura raced on and met the roar of a dozen guns. |
| 12220 |
When he returned to the attack he trailed astern the three boats that hitherto had been on the booms amidship, in addition to the useful pinnace in which Captain Blood had travelled. He suffered now some damage to the mizzen yards, and the tall deck structures of his ornate forecastle were heavily battered. |
| 12221 |
To that oath he had been false in the past; but he vowed now that he would not fail to keep it in future. And meanwhile the young man at his elbow, whom he could gladly have strangled with his hands, was calling down the whole heavenly hierarchy to witness his disappointment at being absent from that Hell. |
| 12222 |
When Veraguas taxed him with being drunk he grew almost violent, spoke of his Dutch origin to remind them that he came of a nation of great drinkers, and offered to drink any man in the Caribbean under the table. Boastfully, to prove his words, he called for more wine, and having drunk it lapsed gradually into silence. |
| 12223 |
His eyelids dropped heavily, his body sagged, and presently, to the hilarity of all who beheld here a boaster confounded, he slid from his chair and came to rest upon the cabin floor, nor attempted to rise again. Veraguas stirred him contemptuously and ungently with his foot. He gave no sign of life. |
| 12224 |
He picked it up and drank. Then, setting it down, and proceeding without haste, he drew from his pocket the key of the cabin in which Madame de Coulevain had been bestowed. He crossed the floor, thrust the key into the lock and turned it. But before he could throw open the door a sound behind him made him turn again. |
| 12225 |
He found a goblet and a jug, a heavy, encrusted silver jug, shaped like an amphora with a handle on either side of its long neck. He poured himself wine, drank, and set down the cup; then he stood swaying slightly, and put forth his right hand as if to steady himself. It came to rest on the neck of the silver jug. |
| 12226 |
A moment he steadied his heavy burden upon the sill; then he thrust it forth, and, supporting himself by his grip of a stanchion, leaned far out to observe the Spaniard's fall. The splash he made in the phosphorescent wake of the gently moving ship was merged into the gurgle of water about the vessel. |
| 12227 |
It brought him instantly erect, alert; but he did not yet turn round. Indeed, he checked himself in the very act, and remained stiffly poised, his left hand supporting him still upon the stanchion, his back turned squarely upon the speaker. For the voice was the voice of a woman. Its tone was tender, gentle, inviting. |
| 12228 |
He jerked a thumb backwards over his shoulder. «I've just thrown him through the window.» She stared and stared at this cold, calm man about whom she perceived something so remorseless and terrifying that she could not doubt his incredible words. Suddenly she loosed a scream. It did not disconcert or even move him. |
| 12229 |
That far indeed from the truth. Deceived like the rest by the comedy of your being brought forcibly aboard, imagining you the unhappy victim of a man I knew for a profligate voluptuary, I was moved to unutterable compassion on your behalf, and to save you from the horror I foresaw for you I killed him. |
| 12230 |
I dismissed him. Since then my cup of misery and shame has overflowed, and when a letter from him was brought to me here at Basseterre on the outbreak of war with Spain, to show me that his fond, loyal, noble heart had not forgotten, I answered him, and in my despair I bade him come for me whenever he would. |
| 12231 |
At his command, although almost sick with terror, she grasped the rope and placed her feet on his shoulders. Then she slid down between the rope and him, until his hold embraced her knees and held her firmly. Gently now, foot by foot, they began to descend. From the decks above came the sound of voices raised in song. |
| 12232 |
From her furled topsails he assumed that her master, evidently strange to these waters, was cautiously groping his way in. And this was confirmed by the seaman visible on the starboard forechains, leaning far out to take soundings. His chanting voice reached them across the sunlit waters as he told the fathoms. |
| 12233 |
He gave his attention to the sail; hauled it a little closer, so that the craft heeled over and headed straight for the bay. It was an hour later when they brought up at the mole. A longboat was alongside, manned by English sailors from the frigate which in the meantime had come to anchor in the roadstead. |
| 12234 |
Captain Blood's cold blue eyes played swiftly over all this and more. Then, almost roughly, he extricated the lady from that little mob of stricken questioning sympathisers who little guessed to what extent she was the author of their woes. At once conducted and conducting, he made his way up the gently rising ground. |
| 12235 |
The Spaniards who had yesterday invaded the place, if, indeed, they had invaded it, had wrought no other mischief than to carry off the Governor's lady. The elderly negro who admitted them broke into shrill cries upon beholding his dishevelled mistress in her crumpled gown of flowered silk. He laughed and wept at once. |
| 12236 |
If the Colonel felt any tenderness towards his wife, or thankfulness for her delivery from the dreadful fate to which he must suppose her to have been exposed, he kept the emotions to himself. He showed presently, however, that he could be emotional enough over the memory of yesterday's catastrophe. |
| 12237 |
At last he found it in his heart to pity her a little, to understand the despair which had driven her, reckless of what might betide others, so that she should escape from this boorish egotist. Belatedly and clumsily M. de Coulevain expressed his thanks. When that was done, Madame took her leave of them. |
| 12238 |
He recalled the subtle sudden betraying change in Coulevain's manner when it was disclosed that the reward would go to him; he saw again the oily smile on the Colonel's face when he had announced that he would deal with Major Macartney. If he knew men at all, Coulevain was the last whom he would trust. |
| 12239 |
If the half of what Madame de Coulevain had said of her husband in the course of that night's sailing was true there was no reason to suppose that any nice scruples would restrain him. The more he considered, the more the Captain's uneasiness increased. He began to perceive that he was in an extremely tight corner. |
| 12240 |
If only he had money with which to purchase a passage on some ship that might pick him up at sea, money enough to induce a shipmaster to ask no questions whilst landing him off Tortuga. But he had none. The only thing of value in his possession was the great pearl in his left ear, worth perhaps five hundred pieces. |
| 12241 |
The angle of the sun was his sufficient dock. He slipped from the bed, found his shoes, which Abraham had cleaned, his coat, which had been brushed, and his periwig, which had been combed by the good negro. He had scarcely donned them when through the open window floated up to him the sound of a voice. |
| 12242 |
All was still. He went to pick up the leather bags which Macartney had dropped as he fell. He made a sling for them with his scarf, and so hung them from his neck. Then he raised the unconscious Major, swung him skilfully to his shoulder, and, thus burdened, went staggering down the avenue and out into the open. |
| 12243 |
The night was hot and Macartney was heavy. The sweat ran from Blood's pores. But he went steadily ahead until he reached the low wall of the churchyard, just as the moon was beginning to rise. On to the summit of this wall he eased himself of his burden, toppled it over into the churchyard, and then climbed after it. |
| 12244 |
With the man's own sash he trussed him up at wrists and ankles. Then he stuffed some of the Major's periwig into his mouth, using the fellow's neckcloth to hold this unpleasant gag in position and taking care to leave his nostrils free. As he was concluding the operation, Macartney opened his eyes and glared at him. |
| 12245 |
Once out of the bay he hoisted sail, and ran northward along the coast and the shallow cliffs which cast an inky shadow against the moon's white radiance. On he crawled through a sea of rippling quicksilver until he reached the island's end; then he headed straight across the ten miles of intervening water. |
| 12246 |
With that fleet of five tall ships he sailed into the harbour of Basseterre a month later with intent to settle a debt which he conceived to lie between Colonel de Coulevain and himself. His appearance there in such force fluttered both the garrison and the inhabitants. But he came too late for his purposes. |
| 12247 |
She was kept precariously afloat so long as the sea was calm by the shifting of her guns and all other heavy gear to larboard, so as to keep above water the gaping wounds in her starboard quarter. Her broken spars and fractured mainmast told an eloquent tale, and Blood imagined that Spaniards had been at work. |
| 12248 |
But the ugly fact was that not more than twenty of these men were Pike's. Yet Pike had brought ashore by Easterling's orders the heaviest of the three contingents, landing a hundred and thirty men, and leaving a bare score to guard the Valiant, whilst fifty men at least had been left on each of the other ships. |
| 12249 |
Pike had a vision of brutalities witnessed in the course of his association with Easterling, wanton, unnecessary brutalities springing from the sheer lust of cruelty. He recalled words in which Captain Blood had warned him against association with a man whom he described as treacherous and foul by nature. |
| 12250 |
He stimulated the men by his words and manner, and received unquestioning obedience from them; for, without understanding what might be afoot, they were stirred almost to enthusiasm by their confidence in him and their assurance that he would avenge upon Easterling their captain's murder and their own wrongs. |
| 12251 |
Blood was on deck again almost before the reverberations had rolled away. He peered through the rising cloud of smoke and smiled. The rudder of the Hermes had been shattered, her mainmast was broken and hung precariously suspended in her shrouds, whilst a rent showed in the bulwarks of her forecastle. |
| 12252 |
But he should have known that he would never be allowed to reach it. When he ignored the shot athwart his bows, summoning him to strike his colours, a broadside of twenty heavy guns crashed into his exposed flank, and wrought such damage in it that he was bereft of even the satisfaction of replying. |
| 12253 |
The Arabella, well handled by old Wolverstone, who was in command of her, went promptly about, and at still closer range poured in a second broadside to complete the business. Hard hit between wind and water, the Avenger was seen to be settling down by the head. A sound like a wail arose from the deck of the Valiant. |
| 12254 |
An hour later the Arabella and the Valiant were running south together. Gallows Key was falling rapidly astern, and Galloway and his crew aboard the crippled Hermes imprisoned in the lagoon were left to conjecture what had happened outside and to extricate themselves as best they could from their own difficulties. |
| 12255 |
I trust to nothing but myself, sir. I have told you that I do not care to be afraid of anything. Your obligation is not to the buccaneer, it is to the surgeon; and that is an obligation to a ghost. So dismiss it. Do not trouble your mind with problems of where your duty lies: whether to me or to your king. |
| 12256 |
It was due to these country winds of some violence, with intermittent breathless calms, that the San Felipe was still no nearer to her destination than a point some twenty miles south of Saona. She was barely crawling over a gently heaving oily sea of deepest violet, her sails alternately swelling and sagging. |
| 12257 |
The helm was put over hard, and the Admiral swung to larboard with idly flapping sails. Faintly over the sunlit waters came the sound of a trumpet, and the four ships that followed executed the same manoeuvre. Then from the Admiral a boat was lowered, and came speeding towards the reef to investigate this portent. |
| 12258 |
Throughout the next day, which was Sunday, the condition of stalemate continued. But on Monday morning the exasperated Admiral once more plastered the island with shot, and then stood boldly in to force a passage. Ogle's battery had suffered no damage because the Admiral knew neither its position nor extent. |
| 12259 |
Then four of his guns blazed at the leading ship. Two shots went wide, a third smashed into her tall forecastle, and the fourth caught her between wind and water and opened a breach through which the sea poured into her. The other three Spaniards veered in haste to starboard, and went off on an easterly tack. |
| 12260 |
The utter silence within those wooden walls was significant. After a while steps rang out on the deck. A sentry in a headpiece looked over the rail to bid him take his fruit to the devil, adding the indiscreet but already superfluous information that if he were not a fool he would know that there was no one aboard. |
| 12261 |
It wanted only an hour to midnight when he embarked his men. And even then he was in no haste to set out. He waited until the silence of the night was disturbed by a distant creak of rowlocks, which warned him that the Spaniards were well upon their way to the shallow passage on the western side of the island. |
| 12262 |
Then, at last, he gave the word to push off, and the San Felipe was abandoned to the enemy stealing upon her through the night. It would be fully an hour later, when the Spaniards, having landed, came like shadows over the ridge, some to take possession of the guns, others to charge across the gangways. |
| 12263 |
They preserved a ghostly silence until they were aboard the San Felipe. Then they gave tongue loudly as stormers will, to encourage themselves. To their surprise, however, not all the din they made sufficed to arouse these pirate dogs, who, apparently, were all asleep so trustfully that they had set no watch. |
| 12264 |
Thus from gun to gun he sped until he had reached the last. Then he came back, swinging the lantern in one hand and the spluttering fuse in the other, so slowly that the Marquis was moved to frenzy. Not a hundred yards away the Maria Gloriosa was slowly passing, her hull a dark shadow, her sails faintly grey above. |
| 12265 |
There he made out quite clearly among the lesser shipping two tall yellow galleons, vessels of thirty guns, whose upper works bore signs of extensive damage, now in course of repair. So far, then, it seemed, Mynheer Claus had told the truth. And this was all that mattered. It was necessary to proceed with caution. |
| 12266 |
It had opened a bombardment of the settlement, so far without damage because it dared not come within range of the fire maintained by the guns of the harbour fort. Lamentably, however, the fort was very short of ammunition, and once this were exhausted there was no adequate force in men to resist a landing. |
| 12267 |
It was the Arabella, and yet it was not the Arabella. The difference eluded him, yet a difference he perceived. As he looked, the great vessel came broadside on in the act of going about. Then, even without counting her gunports, he obtained a clear assurance. She carried four guns less than his own flagship. |
| 12268 |
However that might be, what mattered now was to do what might be done so as to frustrate this most inopportune of interlopers. And so, by a singular irony, Captain Blood rode forth upon the hope, rendered forlorn by his own contriving, of organizing the defences of a Spanish place against an attack by buccaneers. |
| 12269 |
Taking advantage of the manoeuvre, and gauging as best he could the station from which her next fire would be delivered, Blood passed from gun to gun, laying each with his own hands, deliberately and carefully. He had just laid the last of them when the red ship, having put the helm over, presented her larboard flank. |
| 12270 |
She yawed under the shock and listed slightly, and this at the very moment that her broadside was delivered. As a consequence of that fortuitously altered elevation, the discharge soared harmlessly over the fort and went to plough the ground away in its rear. At once she swung downwind so as to run out of range. |
| 12271 |
Badly shaken, his hands cut and bleeding, smothered in dust and grime, he was, at least, whole. He had broken nothing. But of the twelve who had been with him he found only five as sound as they had been before the explosion; a sixth lay groaning with a broken thigh, a seventh sat nursing a dislocated shoulder. |
| 12272 |
As they approached the town gate the sounds that met them abundantly justified his assumptions of the nature of the raider's activities. The buccaneer captain had swept invincibly through a place whose resistance had been crushed at the outset. Finding it at his mercy, he had delivered it to his men for pillage. |
| 12273 |
What I did yesterday was no more than was imposed upon me by my office. Neither thanks nor praise are due for a performance of bare duty. They are heroes only who without thought of risk to themselves or concern for their own interests, perform deeds which are not within their duties. That, at least, is my conception. |
| 12274 |
By the officer in charge he was received with the honour due to the saviour of San Juan, and doors were unlocked at his bidding. Beyond a yard in which the heavily ironed, dejected prisoners of yesterday's affray were herded, he came to a stone chamber lighted by a small window set high and heavily barred. |
| 12275 |
Instances of his prodigality are abundant in that record of his fortunes and hazards which Jeremy Pitt has left us, but none is more recklessly splendid than that supplied by his measures to defeat the West Indian policy of Monsieur de Louvois when it was threatening the great buccaneering brotherhood with extinction. |
| 12276 |
Nothing was either too great or too small for Monsieur de Louvois' attention. Once he had set the machinery of State moving smoothly at home, he turned in his reorganizing lust to survey the French possessions in the Caribbean, where the activities of the buccaneers distressed his sense of orderliness. |
| 12277 |
This young and magnificently handsome widow of Hommaire de Veynac had inherited from her late husband those vast West Indian possessions which comprised nearly a third of the island of Martinique, with plantations of sugar, spices, and tobacco producing annual revenues that were nothing short of royal. |
| 12278 |
Up the gentle acclivity of the main unpaved street of Cayona with its fierce white glare of coral dust and its fringe of languid palms, he toiled to the blessed fragrant shade of the Governor's garden and eventually to the cool twilight of chambers from which the sun's ardour was excluded by green, slatted blinds. |
| 12279 |
Spain maintained a considerable fleet in the Caribbean, mainly for the purpose of guarding her settlements from filibustering raids. The suppression of the filibusters would render that fleet comparatively idle, and in idleness there is no knowing to what devilry men may turn, especially if they be Spaniards. |
| 12280 |
There was about this superbly proportioned lady, from the deep mellowness of her voice to the great pearls entwined in her glossy black hair, nothing that did not announce her opulence. It was enhanced at present by profound contentment in this marriage in which each party so perfectly complemented the other. |
| 12281 |
Luzan departed in annoyance. That night the wind dropped to the merest breath, and so slow was their progress that by the following dawn they were still some five or six miles to the west of Portugal Point and the exit of the straits. And daylight showed them the big Spanish ship ever at about the same distance astern. |
| 12282 |
That she should put out stunsails so as to catch the last possible ounce of the light airs increased the Captain's suspicion that her aim was to overhaul him, and being imbued, as became an experienced seaman, whilst in these waters with a healthy mistrust of the intentions of all Spaniards, he took his decision. |
| 12283 |
He bawled an order. It was instantly followed by the whistle of the boatswain's pipe, and in the waist about Saintonges and his bride there was a sudden jostling stir as the hands came pouring from their quarters to be marshalled for whatever the Captain might require of them. Aloft there was another kind of activity. |
| 12284 |
Men were swarming the ratlines and spreading nets whose purpose was to catch any spars that might be brought down in the course of action. A second gun boomed from the Spaniard and then a third; after that there was a pause, and then they were saluted by what sounded like the thunder of a whole broadside. |
| 12285 |
They will be present in your mind. If today it should happen, indeed, to be the turn of Martinico, we can but wonder that it should not have come before. For that is an island worth plundering and possessing, and France maintains no force in the West Indies that is adequate to restrain these conquistadores. |
| 12286 |
But not only would that in the circumstances of the moment be an act of blackest ingratitude, it would be rendered impossible by the presence at hand of two heavily armed buccaneer ships. Moreover, in the light so suddenly vouchsafed to him, Monsieur de Saintonges perceived that it would be an act of grossest folly. |
| 12287 |
She was a dainty, wilful piece of mischief, too young by far to have mated with so elderly a man, and having been raised by her marriage to a station above that into which she had been born, she was the more insistent upon her ladyhood and of exactions and pretensions at which a duchess might have paused. |
| 12288 |
But what we know of the lady, as will presently be disclosed, justifies a suspicion that she may have exercised in vain the witchery of her long narrow eyes on that comely lad; in short that he played Joseph to her Madam Potiphar, and thereby so enraged her that she refused to have him continue in attendance. |
| 12289 |
Whilst the negroes steadied the boat against the great hull, he climbed the accommodation ladder in the prow, and stepped aboard, fanning himself with his plumed hat, inviting Heaven to rot him if he could support this abominable heat, and peremptorily demanding the master of this pestilential vessel. |
| 12290 |
Rum and limes and sugar were brought, and over their punch they were reasonably merry, saving Hagthorpe, who was fathoms deep in preoccupation. But no sooner had Mr Court departed than he roused himself to thank Blood for what he supposed had been in his mind when he so readily consented to carry this passenger. |
| 12291 |
A package bulkier than the rest drew his attention, and he took it up. He scanned the superscription with a frown that gradually drew together his heavy, grizzled brows. He hesitated, passing a brown, bony hand along his chin; then, as if abruptly taking a decision, he broke the seals and tore away the wrapper. |
| 12292 |
The fold of vellum on the inner side of the cover had become detached and had slightly curled away from the board. The paste securing that fold had perished, and as he fingered the curled edge the entire flap forming the side of the cover came loose. Between this and the board a folded sheet was now disclosed. |
| 12293 |
She turned slowly away, her lip between finger and thumb. He was grimly amused to observe that the furious grievance with which she had sought him was forgotten; that her wrath on the matter of the slave had been quenched in another preoccupation. Slowly she moved to the door, passing out of his range of sight. |
| 12294 |
As a further inducement, she enlarged upon the beauties of this island. She must be the Captain's guide to its scented groves, its luxuriant plantations, its crystal streams, so that he should realize what an earthly Paradise was this which her husband had so often heard her denounce a desolate Hell. |
| 12295 |
It was vexatious, but it did not put him out of countenance. When she joyously announced that she would show him the cascades, he secretly cursed her sprightliness. Very politely he demurred on the ground that his first interest was in the plantations. She puckered her perfect nose in mock disdain of him. |
| 12296 |
Captain Blood was taking in his hands the volume that Sir James had proffered. It was now, I think, that full understanding came to him, and for a moment he was in a dilemma. If the unexpected had helped him at the commencement, the unexpected had certainly come to thwart him now, when in sight of the end. |
| 12297 |
The thrifty nature of the little North Country seaman revolted at the thought of such waste, whilst his caution desired to know how he and his hands were ever to get back to England if Blood's scheme should, after all, miscarry even in part and no such tall ship as he promised should be forthcoming. |
| 12298 |
The leadsman in the forechains was calling the fathoms, and it occurred to Blood that it might be prudent to go no farther. He turned aside for a moment, to order Pitt to anchor where they stood, well away from the forest of masts and spars reared by the shipping over against the town. Then he came back to the Alcalde. |
| 12299 |
The Alcalde looked along that formidable array of cannon, and at the lines of hammocks slung behind them on either side, in some of which men were even now reposing. Stooping to avoid the stanchions in that shallow place, he followed his tall leader aft, and was followed in turn by the massive Wolverstone. |
| 12300 |
A tall, handsome man of perhaps forty, he was from head to foot a flame of scarlet. A scarlet skullcap covered the tonsure to be presumed in his flowing locks of a rich brown that was almost auburn; a collar of finest point adorned the neck of his silken cassock; a gold cross gleamed on his scarlet breast. |
| 12301 |
It occurred to him, naturally enough, that nothing could be more conciliatory, nothing would be more likely to put the Cardinal in a good humour with him, than if he were to present himself in the role of his Eminence's immediate deliverer from the hands of that abominable pirate who held him captive. |
| 12302 |
If error there was, it has now been corrected, and with generous interest, as this buccaneer captain will bear me witness. I am here to give myself the honour of escorting your Eminence ashore to the joyous welcome that awaits you and the great reception which expectant Havana has been preparing for some weeks. |
| 12303 |
This, and the measure of liberty which his presence on deck announced had already been accorded to him, finally assured Don Ruiz that once the ransom were paid there would be an end of the sacrilege of His Eminence's detention and no further obstacle would delay his departure from that accursed ship. |
| 12304 |
In his excitement, his face livid, he advanced a step. Such words wherever uttered to him must have moved his wrath. But to be admonished and insulted by this priest in public, to be held up to the scorn and derision of these ruffianly buccaneers, was something beyond the endurance of any Castilian gentleman. |
| 12305 |
Moulting his normal courtly plumage, discarding gold lace and Mechlin, he dissembled his long person in brown homespun, woollen stockings, plain linen bands, and a hat without adornment. He discarded his periwig, and replaced it by a kerchief of black silk that swathed his cropped head like a skullcap. |
| 12306 |
The landlord met him with the news that a Spanish gentleman, Don Francisco de Villamarga, had just been seeking him at the inn, and would return again in an hour's time. The mention of that name seemed suddenly to diminish the stifling heat of the evening for him. But, at least, he kept his breath and his countenance. |
| 12307 |
In adversity the prospect of earning fifty thousand pieces of eight would serve to sharpen the vindictiveness of this official who had fallen upon evil days. Shuddering at the narrowness of the escape, thankful for that timeliest of warnings, Captain Blood perceived that there was only one thing to be done. |
| 12308 |
The concern supplied him by his own situation might well have reminded him that these murderous sounds were no affair of his, and that he had enough already on his hands to get out of Rio de la Hacha with his life. But the actual message of the vituperative exclamation overheard arrested his flight. |
| 12309 |
As he ran, however, it occurred to him that here was noise enough already. The last thing he desired was to attract spectators by increasing it. So he left the pistol in his pocket and whipped out his rapier instead. By the little light that lingered, he could make out the group as he advanced upon it. |
| 12310 |
Three men were assailing a fourth, who, with his back to a closed door, and his left arm swathed in his coat so as to make a buckler, offered a defence that was as desperate as it must ultimately prove futile. That he could have stood so long even against such odds was evidence of an unusual toughness. |
| 12311 |
He hitched the fellow's right arm round his neck, gripped him about the waist to support him, and bade the girl lead on. Whatever her panic on the score of her man's hurt, the promptitude of her obedience to the immediate need of getting him away was in itself an evidence of her courage and practical wit. |
| 12312 |
Concern enough for her at the moment lay in the condition of her Englishman and the evidently urgent need of getting him away before his assailants returned, reinforced, to finish him. She could not waste moments so precious in arguing with an eccentric: possibly she had not even any thoughts to spare him. |
| 12313 |
Then followed Fairfax, with Blood immediately and so closely behind as to support him and, indeed, partly carry him aboard. At the head of the ladder they were received by a large man with a face that showed hot in the light of a lantern slung from the mainmast, who overwhelmed them with alarmed questions. |
| 12314 |
Out of these, he made a pad for the wound, applied a bandage to hold it in position, and then a second bandage, like a sling, to keep the left arm immovable against the patient's breast. Then Alcatrace found him a fresh shirt, and they passed it over the Englishman's head, leaving the left sleeve empty. |
| 12315 |
He laughed softly, and Blood observed that always when he laughed his loose mouth seemed to writhe in a sneer. He was recovering vigour of body and of mind with every moment now, since he had been made comfortable and the bleeding had been checked. His hand closed over the lady's where it lay upon the counterpane. |
| 12316 |
He cursed the burning thirst he discovered in himself, and begged her to give him to drink. That same thirst continued thereafter to torment him and to keep him wakeful, so that she stayed at his side and gave him frequent draughts of water, mixed with the juice of limes, and once, on his insistent demand, with brandy. |
| 12317 |
He was just in time to see her vanish through the doorway of the stateroom opposite, and a moment later, from beyond her closed door, a sound of desolate sobbing reached him across the cabin. His upper lip curled as he listened. At least, it had not occurred to her to betray his intentions to Captain Blood. |
| 12318 |
But Blood asked no questions of either of them. He preferred instead to obtain from the heavens the information that he sought, and the clear, starry sky told him all that he required to know. The North Star was abeam on the starboard quarter. Thus he obtained the surprising knowledge that they had gone about. |
| 12319 |
Well, think now, Tim, and maybe it'll occur to you that when it was known, as known it would be, how he'd earned it, my buccaneers would hunt you to the ends of the seas. Ye should reflect on these things, Tim, when ye go partners with a scoundrel. Ye'll be wiser to throw in your lot with me, my lad. |
| 12320 |
It'll quicken him in getting the cover off the hatch, so as to get under way again. Though the devil knows where he'll go now. Certainly not to Carthagena. It was the notion he took to go there persuaded me he was not the right kind of husband for your ladyship, and decided me to bring you back to your family. |
| 12321 |
The allied Christian forces under the direction of their emperor had smoked him out of his stronghold at Mehedia; they had seized that splendid city and were in the act of razing it to the ground as the neighboring Carthage had been razed of old. Dragut reckoned up his losses with a gloomy and vengeful mind. |
| 12322 |
He had lost three thousand men, and among them the very flower of his redoubtable corsairs; he had lost some twelve thousand Christian slaves, the fruit of many a desperate raid; he had lost his lieutenant and nephew Hisar, who was even now a captive in the hands of his inveterate enemy, Andrea Doria. |
| 12323 |
He returned thanks to Allah the Compassionate, the So Merciful, that he was still alive and free upon the seas with three galleases, twelve galleys, and five brigantines, wherewith to set about making good his losses, and he bent his energetic, resourceful knavish mind to the matter of ways and means. |
| 12324 |
He had known exposure to cold and heat; he had been broiled by the sun and frozen by the rain; he had known aching muscles, hunger, and thirst, and the sores begotten of the oarsman's bench, and his shoulders were still a crisscross of scars where the bos'n's whip had lashed him to revive his flagging energies. |
| 12325 |
And by way of replenishing his coffers at once, venting a little of his vengeful heat, and marking his contempt for Christian pursuers, he had made a sudden swoop upon the southwestern coast of Sicily. Beginning at Gergenti, Dragut carried his raid as far north as Marsala, leaving ruin and desolation behind him. |
| 12326 |
ON came the tiny brown sailed felucca, helplessly driven by what Dragut accounted the winds of destiny. At closer quarters they saw indications of the desperate effort that was being made aboard her to put her about. But they were lubberly fellows who had charge of her, and Dragut was content to wait. |
| 12327 |
Dragut looked down at the man's pale face, and smiled a little. He had no particular rancor against his prisoner. On the whole he was inclining to admiration for the fellow's almost philosophic courage. At the same time there was no room for sentiment in the heart of the corsair. He was quite pitiless. |
| 12328 |
Up and down the gangway between the rowers' benches walked two Moslem bos'ns, armed with long whips of bullock hide, and it was not long ere one of them, considering that Brancaleone was not putting his share of effort into his task, sent that cruel lash to raise a burning wheal upon his tender flesh. |
| 12329 |
He slept in his shackles on the rowers' bench, which was but some four feet wide, and despite the sheepskins with which the bench was padded it was not long before the friction of his movements began to chafe and blister his flesh. In the scorching noontide of the second day he collapsed fainting upon his oar. |
| 12330 |
Back to his fleet went Dragut for cannon and slaves, and so feverishly did they toil under the lash of his venomous tongue and of his bos'ns' whips, that within an hour he had erected a battery at the harbor mouth and fired a salute straight into the Genoese as they were in the very act of dropping anchor. |
| 12331 |
A fort arose there, growing visibly under the eyes of the Genoese, and provoking the amusement of that fierce veteran Doria. Sooner or later Dragut must decide to come forth from his bottle necked refuge, and the longer he deferred it the more overwhelming would be the numbers assembled to destroy him. |
| 12332 |
Brancaleone, on the words, turned white to the lips; but it was the pallor of bitter, heartsearing resolve, not the pallor of such fear as Dragut had hoped to awaken. He advanced a step, his imperturbability all gone, and he sent his words into the face of the corsair with the fierceness of a cornered wild cat. |
| 12333 |
He pointed across a strip of shallow land, that was no more than a half mile or so in width, to the blue green sea beyond. Part of this territory was swamp, and part sand; vegetation there was of the scantiest; some clumps of reeds, an odd date palm, its crest rustling slightly in the breeze, and nothing else. |
| 12334 |
I said you were a dull fellow. I little dreamed how dull. Nay, now, suppress your rage. Truth is a very healing draft, and you have need of it. I compute now that aboard your ships there will be, including slaves, some three thousand men. No doubt you could press another thousand from the island into your service. |
| 12335 |
His hose of red cloth vanished into boots of untanned leather, laced in front and turned down at the knees, and completed in him the general appearance of a mercenary in time of peace, in spite of which the six nobles, in that place of paradoxes, bared their heads anew, and stood in attitudes of deferential attention. |
| 12336 |
He slightly inclined his head in token of acquiescence. "I beg that you will speak," was all he said, and Fabrizio would forthwith have spoken but that Ferrabraccio intervened to demand that Aquila should pass them his knightly word not to betray them in the event of his rejection of the proposals they had to make. |
| 12337 |
The increased disfavour of his Highness may bring more adherents to a fresh conspiracy of this character, and we should be lost as an independent state. And the peril that menaces us is the peril of being so lost. Not only by defection of our own, but by the force of arms of another. That other is Caesar Borgia. |
| 12338 |
Thus they remained for a brief spell, Aquila himself so still that he scarcely seemed to breathe. He sat, gripping the arms of his chair, his head fallen forward until his chin rested on his breast, a frown darkening his lofty brow. And whilst they waited for his answer, a mighty battle was fought out within his soul. |
| 12339 |
Become their lord in many things, to be their slave in more. Nominally to rule, but actually to be ruled, until, should he fail to do his rulers' will, there would be some night another meeting such as this, in which men would plot to encompass his downfall and to supplant him as he was invited to supplant Gian Maria. |
| 12340 |
In front of them lay the path which sloped, for a hundred yards or more, to the first corner. Below them, on the right, the path again appeared at the point where it jutted out for some half dozen yards in its zigzag course, and there Fanfulla caught the gleam of steel, reflecting the feeble moonlight. |
| 12341 |
But it soon became clear that the halt was to the end that the stragglers might come up. Masuccio was a man who took no chances; every knave of his fifty would he have before he ventured the assault. "Now," murmured the Count, tightening his hat upon his brow, so that it might the better mask his features. |
| 12342 |
Masuccio's voice was heard, calling to them to stand firm; bidding them kneel and ward the charge with their pikes; assuring them with curses that they had but to deal with half dozen men. But the mountain echoes were delusive, and that thunder of descending hooves seemed to them not of a half dozen but of a regiment. |
| 12343 |
A dozen Swiss went down beneath that onslaught, and another dozen that had been swept aside and over the precipice were half way to the valley before that cavalcade met any check. Masuccio's remaining men strove lustily to stem this human cataract, now that they realised how small was the number of their assailants. |
| 12344 |
At last he was all but through the press, and but three men now fronted him. Again his charger reared, snorting, and pawing the air like a cat, and two of the three knaves before him fled incontinently aside. But the third, who was of braver stuff, dropped on one knee and presented his pike at the horse's belly. |
| 12345 |
Francesco made a wild attempt to save the roan that had served him so gallantly, but he was too late. It came down to impale itself upon that waiting partisan. With a hideous scream the horse sank upon its slayer, crushing him beneath its mighty weight, and hurling its rider forward on to the ground. |
| 12346 |
From under bulging brows a pair of bright eyes, set wide as an owl's, took up the mischievous humour of his prodigious mouth. "A curse on you and him that sent you," was the answering greeting he received. Then the man checked his anger and broke into a laugh at sight of the fear that sprang into the jester's eyes. |
| 12347 |
At sight of the fool he paused to take stock of him, what time the fool returned the compliment with wonder stricken interest. For however much Fanfulla's raiment might have suffered in yesternight's affray, it was very gorgeous still, and in the velvet cap upon his head a string of jewels was entwined. |
| 12348 |
Then his gaze wandered back to the man who lay supported on his elbow, and he noticed now the gold net in which his hair was coiffed, and which was by no means common to mean folk. His little twinkling eyes turned their attention full upon the face before him, and of a sudden a gleam of recognition entered them. |
| 12349 |
Idly, with a smile upon his lips that was almost scornful, the Lord of Aquila turned his eyes in the direction in which the fool was already walking. And on the instant his whole expression changed. The amused scorn was swept from his countenance, and in its place there sat now a look of wonder that was almost awe. |
| 12350 |
But it was the glory of her peerless face that caught and held his glance in such ecstatic awe; the miracle of her eyes, which, riveted on his, returned his glance with one of mild surprise. A child she almost seemed, despite her height and womanly proportions, so fresh and youthful was her countenance. |
| 12351 |
Then he raised his heavy lids, and their glances met and held each other. And so, eyes that were brown and tender looked down into feverish languid eyes of black, what time her gentle hand held the moist cloth to his aching brow. "Angel of beauty!" he murmured dreamily, being but half awake as yet to his position. |
| 12352 |
How much, he wondered, might Gian Maria know of his own share in that mountain meeting, and how would it fare with him if his cousin was aware that it had been proposed to the Count of Aquila to supplant him? He was not long, however, in learning that grounds were wanting for such fears as he had entertained. |
| 12353 |
His welcome of Francesco was more effusive than its wont. He bade the two servants who attended him to lay a plate for his illustrious cousin, and when Aquila shortly yet courteously declined, with the assurance that he had dined already, the Duke insisted that, at least, he should drink a Cup of Malvasia. |
| 12354 |
He frankly told me that if I knew, I would talk. Heard you ever of such insufferable insolence to a prince? All that he would let me learn was that there was a conspiracy afoot to supplant me, and that he was going to capture the conspirators, together with the man whom they were inviting to take my place. |
| 12355 |
Guidobaldo listened gravely. In its way the news affected him as well, for he feared the might of Caesar Borgia as much as any man in Italy, and he was, by virtue of it, the readier to hasten forward an alliance which should bring another of the neighbouring states into the powerful coalition he was forming. |
| 12356 |
He gained her ante chamber, and thence he despatched an idling page to request of her the honour of an audience. As the youth passed through the door that led to the room beyond, Gian Maria caught for a moment the accents of an exquisite male voice singing a love song to the accompaniment of a lute. |
| 12357 |
There abode with him the memory of the fool's words, and the suggestion that in the heart of Valentina was framed the image of some other man. Now, loving her, in his own coarse way, and as he understood love, the rejected Duke waxed furiously jealous of this other at whose existence Peppe had hinted. |
| 12358 |
The air was warm and balmy and heavy with the scent of flowers from the garden below. The splashing of the fountain seemed to soothe her, and for a little while her eyes were upon that gleaming water, which rose high in a crystal column, then broke and fell, a shower of glittering jewels, into the broad marble basin. |
| 12359 |
He laughed lightly, perhaps to cover the embarrassment that beset him, and dropping his jewelled cap, he flung one white cased leg over the other and took his lute in his lap, his fingers again wandering to the strings. "I have a new song, Madonna," he announced, with a gaiety that was obviously forced. |
| 12360 |
They looked at each other for a second. Then, side by side, they passed down the wide marble steps that led from the terrace to the box flanked walks of the gardens. Here, among the lengthening shadows, they paced in silence for a while, what time Gonzaga sought for words in which to propound his plan. |
| 12361 |
His face fell a little. He had hoped to place her in his debt in every possible way, yet here was one in which she raised a barrier. Upon her head she wore a fret of gold, so richly laced with pearls as to be worth a prince's ransom. This she now made haste to unfasten with fingers that excitement set a tremble. |
| 12362 |
The victuals he had already provided for, whilst of arms he had no need to think; Roccaleone should be well stocked with them. But the finding of the men gave him some concern. He had decided to enrol a score, which was surely the smallest number with which he could make a fair show of being martially in earnest. |
| 12363 |
The tavern was a dingy, cut throat place, which the delicate Gonzaga had not entered without a tremor, invoking the saints' protection, and crossing himself ere he set foot across the threshold. Some pieces of goat were being cooked on the embers, in a great fireplace at the end of the room farthest from the door. |
| 12364 |
Of the knightly rank by which the taverner addressed him the fellow bore no outward signs. Arms he carried, it is true; a sword and dagger at his belt, whilst beside him on the table stood a rusty steel cap. But these warlike tools served only to give him the appearance of a roving masnadiero or a cut throat for hire. |
| 12365 |
Intently he listened, and wondered whether such men as he boasted he had led in that campaign were still to be found and could be brought together. At the end of perhaps a half hour the two companions of that thirsty giant rose and took their leave of him. They cast a passing glance upon Gonzaga, and were gone. |
| 12366 |
He raised his bloodshot orbs and boldly encountered Gonzaga's uneasy glance. His lips fell apart with an anticipatory smack, his back stiffened, and his head was raised until his chin took on so haughty a tilt that Gonzaga feared his proffered hospitality was on the point of suffering a scornful rejection. |
| 12367 |
But he had chanced upon a deeper tangle than he had reckoned with, and more to do than he had looked for. On the day of his departure from Urbino, he had ridden as far as Cagli, and halted at the house of the noble Messer Valdicampo. This had been placed at his disposal, and there he proposed to lie the night. |
| 12368 |
Valdicampo, who for the honour of having a Duke sleep beneath his roof would have stomached improprieties far more flagrant, belittled the matter and dismissed it. And presently Gian Maria rose with the announcement that he had far to journey on the morrow, and so, with his host's good leave, would be abed. |
| 12369 |
This consisted of three men, two being mercenaries of Armstadt's guard, in corselet and morion, and the third, who stood captive between, the unfortunate Ser Peppe. The fool's face was paler than its wont, whilst the usual roguery had passed from his eyes and his mouth, fear having taken possession of its room. |
| 12370 |
Then they led him, shivering to the great bed. The other end of the cord was passed over one of the bared arms of the canopy frame. This end was grasped by the two men at arms. Martin stood beside the prisoner. The Duke flung himself into a great carved chair, an air of relish now investing his round, pale face. |
| 12371 |
The fool had told him that which he would have given much to learn. He had told him that this man whose name he sought, had so feared that his presence that day at Acquasparta should become known, that he had bound the fool by oath not to divulge the secret of it. Of what he had before suspected he was now assured. |
| 12372 |
With bowed head he preserved a stubborn silence. The Duke made a sign to the men, and instantly the two of them threw their weight upon the rope, hoisting Peppe by his wrists until he was at the height of the canopy itself. That done, they paused, and turned their eyes upon the Duke for further orders. |
| 12373 |
But still the fool was silent, his nether lip caught so tightly in his teeth that the blood trickled from it adown his chin. Again the Duke gave the signal, and again they let him go. This time they allowed him a longer drop, so that the wrench with which they arrested it was more severe than had been the first. |
| 12374 |
But the Duke, from whose demeanour it might be inferred that he was inured to the effect produced by this form of torture, looked on with a cruel smile, as of one who watches the progress of events towards the end that he desires and has planned. He was less patient, and his signal came more quickly now. |
| 12375 |
But at the terror of a fourth drop, more fearful than any of its three predecessors, he awoke very suddenly to the impossible horror of his position. That this agony would endure until he died or fainted, he was assured. And since he seemed incapable of either fainting or dying, suffer more he could not. |
| 12376 |
The Duke himself was struck twice, and on Santi's unprotected scalp an ugly wound was opened from which the blood flowed in profusion to dye his snowy locks. In this undignified manner they reached, at last, the Palazzo Ducale, leaving a trail of dead and maimed to mark the way by which they had come. |
| 12377 |
But neither this nor the wrathful, meaning glances which his cunning mother bent upon him served to curb him. He obeyed only the voice of his headstrong mood, never dreaming of the consequences with which he might be visited. "You will bear to the Duca Valentino this message from me," he said, in conclusion. |
| 12378 |
And yet the reason was not far to seek, had they but cared to follow the line of thought to which he, himself, had given them the clue when he referred to the voice he had heard, and the sights he had seen in the streets of Babbiano. The voice was the voice that had acclaimed his cousin Francesco Duke. |
| 12379 |
They withdrew, and when the doors opened again, a clank of mail, reaching them from without, increased the astonishment of the company. This rose yet higher, and left them cold and speechless, when into the chamber stepped the Count of Aquila with a man at arms on either side of him, marking him a prisoner. |
| 12380 |
They waited thus an odd group, all very grave save one, and he the one that had most cause for gravity. Then the captain re entered, followed by his two men, and Gian Maria waved a hand towards the prisoner. "Take him away," he muttered harshly, his face ghastly, and passion shaking him like an aspen. |
| 12381 |
A thought he gave to the people who had such faith in him, and showered upon him such admiring love, and whom, as a matter of reciprocity, he wished well, and would have served in any capacity but this. He shook his head, and with a smile of regret declined the offer. "Have patience, old friend," he added. |
| 12382 |
He expressed sympathetic regret at so untoward a circumstance and discreetly refrained from passing any opinion thereupon. Yet later, as they supped, and when perhaps the choice wines had somewhat relaxed his discretion, he permitted himself to speak of Gian Maria's ways in terms that were very far from laudatory. |
| 12383 |
At that, Paolo's glance became more intent. The memory of his meeting with the fool and his mistress in the woods, a month ago, flashed now across his mind, and it came to him that he could rightly guess the source whence his cousin had drawn the information that had led to his own arrest and banishment. |
| 12384 |
The latter was now so far restored as to be able to sit a mule, but lest the riding should over tire him they proceeded at little more than an ambling pace along the lovely valleys of the Metauro. Thus it befell that when night descended it found them still journeying, and some two leagues distant from Urbino. |
| 12385 |
He consented, to pacify them, and wheeling to the right they entered the border of the forest, drawing rein well in the shadow, whence they could survey the road and see who passed across the patch of moonlight that illumined it. And presently the company came along and swung into that revealing flood of light. |
| 12386 |
At the head of this company rode a powerfully built man on a great sorrel horse, at sight of whom the fool swore softly in astonishment. In the middle of the party came four litters borne by mules, and at the side of one of them rode a slender, graceful figure that provoked from Peppe a second oath. |
| 12387 |
The friar cried out in angry alarm, and then, still storming and threatening his persecutor, he passed on. After him came six heavily laden carts, each drawn by a pair of bullocks, and the rear of the procession was brought up by a flock of a dozen bleating sheep, herded by a blasphemant man at arms. |
| 12388 |
He made his apologies for the violent measures of his zeal, and bade his men fall behind. Ordering them to follow him, he mounted a horse that was brought him, and rode briskly through the borgo at the Count's side. And as he rode he told them what the jester's quick intuition had already whispered to him. |
| 12389 |
Yet with that fairness of mind that made him so universally beloved, Francesco offered no resentment to the fool's reproof. He saw that it was deserved, for it threw upon the matter a light that was new and more searching. But he presently saw further than did the fool, and he smiled at the other's scowls. |
| 12390 |
By now she is safe in Roccaleone. What, then, can befall her? Guidobaldo, no doubt, will repair to her, and across the moat he will entreat her to be a dutiful niece and to return. She will offer to do so on condition that he pass her his princely word not to further molest her with the matter of this marriage. |
| 12391 |
They found the Prince in a very gloomy mood, and after greeting Francesco with cool ceremony, he questioned him on the matter of the company they had met yesternight. These inquiries he conducted with characteristic dignity, and no more show of concern than if it had been an affair of a strayed falcon. |
| 12392 |
It was a scene in the woods at Acquasparta on that morning after the mountain fight; a man lying wounded in the bracken, and over him a gentle lady bending with eyes of pity and solicitude. Often since had his thoughts revisited that scene, sometimes with a smile, sometimes with a sigh, and sometimes with both at once. |
| 12393 |
But here, where the castle might more easily have become vulnerable, a blank wall greeted him, broken by no more than a narrow slit or two midway below the battlements. He rode on towards the northern side, crossing a footbridge that spanned the river, and at last coming to a halt before the entrance tower. |
| 12394 |
Here again the moat was formed by the torrential waters of the mountain stream. He bade his servant rouse the inmates, and Lanciotto hallooed in a voice that nature had made deep and powerful. The echo of it went booming up to scare the birds on the hillside, but evoked no answer from the silent castle. |
| 12395 |
At length, above the parapet of the tower appeared a stunted figure with head unkempt, as grotesque almost as any of the gargoyles beneath, and an owlish face peered at them from one of the crenels of the battlement, and demanded, in surly, croaking tones their business. Instantly the Count recognised Peppe. |
| 12396 |
A few moments later, with a creaking of hinges and a clanking of chains, the great bridge swung down and dropped with a thud to span the gulf. Instantly the Count spurred his horse forward, and followed by Lanciotto rode across the plank and under the archway of the entrance tower into the first courtyard. |
| 12397 |
The Count, following in her wake, ran the gauntlet of scowls of the assembled mercenaries. He stalked past them unmoved, taking their measure as he went, and estimating their true value with the unerring eye of the practised condottiero who has had to do with the enrolling of men and the handling of them. |
| 12398 |
And the irony of it all was keenly cruel. It was the very contingency that he had prophesied, assured that neither Guidobaldo nor Gian Maria would be so mad as to court ridicule by engaging upon it. For a second Francesco's eyes rested on the courtier's face, and saw the fear written there for all to read. |
| 12399 |
I had advice to offer and assistance if you should need it; but the sight of those men at arms of yours makes me fear that it is not advice upon which it would be wise to act. For the plan I had in mind, it would be of the first importance that your soldiers should be trustworthy, and this, I fear me, they are not. |
| 12400 |
On the ground they overpowered him, and a mailed hand was set upon his mouth, crushing back into his throat the cry for help he would have raised. On the west side of the courtyard a fountain issuing from the wall had once poured its water through a lion's head into a vast tank of moss grown granite. |
| 12401 |
Their hesitation vanished, and such slight loyalty as they felt towards Ercole was overruled by the prospect of his position and his pay, should his disgrace become accomplished. They called upon him to come forth from his refuge, where he still stood, dumb and stricken at this sudden turn events had taken. |
| 12402 |
At that he cried out for mercy, and came wading to the edge of the tank swearing that if the immersion had not drowned him, it were a miracle but he was poisoned. Thus closed an incident that had worn a mighty ugly look, and it served to open Valentina's eyes to the true quality of the men Gonzaga had hired her. |
| 12403 |
But presently his mood lightened and he took courage, for he could be very brave when peril was remote. It was best, he reflected, that Valentina should leave Roccaleone. Such was the course he would advise and urge. Naturally, he would go with her, and so he might advance his suit as well elsewhere as in that castle. |
| 12404 |
He sat out of sight upon the floor, hunched against the chair of one of Valentina's ladies, who now and again would toss him down a morsel from her plate, much as she might have treated a favourite hound. "You have the friar to thank for it," said he, in a muffled voice, for his mouth was crammed with pasty. |
| 12405 |
The other half, running from north to south, was a stretch of garden, broken into three terraces. The highest of these was no more than a narrow alley under the southern wall, roofed from end to end by a trellis of vines on beams blackened with age, supported by uprights of granite, square and roughly hewn. |
| 12406 |
This was split in twain by a very gallery of gigantic box trees running down towards the lower terrace, and bearing eloquent witness to the age of that old garden. Into this gallery no sun ever penetrated by more than a furtive ray, and on the hottest day in summer a grateful cool dwelt in its green gloom. |
| 12407 |
Their conference was interrupted now by Ercole with his complaint. She despatched Gonzaga to quell the men, a course that Fortemani treated to a covert sneer. The fop went rejoicing at this proof that her estimate of his commanding qualities had nowise suffered by contrast with those of that swashbuckling Francesco. |
| 12408 |
But his pride rode him to a bitter fall. They made a mock of his remonstrances, and when he emulated Francesco's methods, addressing them with sharp ferocity, and dubbing them beasts and swine, they caught the false ring of his fierceness, which was as unlike the true as the ring of lead is unlike that of silver. |
| 12409 |
They jeered him insults, they mimicked his tenor voice, which excitement had rendered shrill, and they bade him go thrum a lute for his lady's delectation, and leave men's work to men. His anger rose, and they lost patience; and from showing their teeth in laughter, they began to show them in snarls. |
| 12410 |
Lacking that wit, he went in blissful confidence to bed, and smiled himself softly to his sleep. Away in the room under the Lion's Tower, the Count of Aquila, too, paced his chamber ere he sought his couch, and in his pacing caught sight of something that arrested his attention, and provoked a smile. |
| 12411 |
That done, he went to bed, and he, too, fell asleep with a smile upon his lips, and in his mind a floating vision of Valentina. She needed a strong and ready hand to guide her in this rebellion against the love at arms of Gian Maria, and that hand he swore should be his, unless she scorned the offer of it. |
| 12412 |
He dressed in all haste, and then, with Lanciotto at his heels, he descended to answer her summons. As he crossed the second courtyard he beheld Valentina's ladies grouped upon the chapel steps in excited discussion of this happening with Fra Domenico, who, in full canonicals, was waiting to say the morning's Mass. |
| 12413 |
With Fortemani at his heels he went about the execution of the measures he had suggested, the bully following him now with the faithful wonder of a dog for its master, realising that here, indeed, was a soldier of fortune by comparison with whom the likes of himself were no better than camp followers. |
| 12414 |
Within an hour there was such diligent bustle in Roccaleone, such an air of grim gaiety and high spirits, that Valentina, observing it, wondered what manner of magician was this she had raised to the command of her fortress, who in so little time could work so marvellous a change in the demeanour of her garrison. |
| 12415 |
Once only did Francesco's light heartedness fail him, and this was when, upon visiting the armoury, he found but one single cask of gunpowder stored there. He turned to Fortemani to inquire where Gonzaga had bestowed it, and Fortemani being as ignorant as himself upon the subject he went forthwith in quest of Gonzaga. |
| 12416 |
Francesco had put on his harness, and came arrayed from head to foot in resplendent steel, to do worthy honour to the occasion. A bunch of plumes nodded in his helm, and for all that his beaver was open, yet the shadows of the head piece afforded at the distance sufficient concealment to his features. |
| 12417 |
Well beloved though he was of his people, between himself and his niece he had made no effort ever to establish relations of affection. Less than ever did he now seek to prevail by the voice of kinship. He came in the panoply of war, as a prince to a rebel subject, and in precisely such a tone did he greet her. |
| 12418 |
And so they paced the battlements, Valentina in earnest talk with Francesco, Gonzaga following in moody silence with Fortemani, and devouring them with his eyes. From their eminence they surveyed the bustling camp in the plain, where tents, green, brown, and white, were being hastily erected by half stripped soldiers. |
| 12419 |
A groom held a horse for him and assisted him to mount, and then, attended by the same trumpeter that had escorted Guidobaldo, he rode forward towards the castle. At the edge of the moat he halted, and at sight of Valentina and her company, he doffed his feathered hat, and bowed his straw coloured head. |
| 12420 |
And as he walked there, under the noontide sky, the memory of Francesco's assurance that the men would not mutiny returned to him, and he caught himself most ardently desiring that they might, if only to bear it home to Valentina how misplaced was her trust, how foolish her belief in that loud boaster. |
| 12421 |
In other surroundings, he was assured that she would not have cast an eye upon Francesco whilst he, himself, was by; and if he recalled their first meeting at Acquasparta, it was again to curse Circumstance for having placed the knight in such case as to appeal to the tenderness that is a part of woman's nature. |
| 12422 |
Then suddenly he turned cold, and he felt his skin roughening. A stealthy step sounded behind him. He crumpled the Duke's letter in his hand, and in the alarm of the moment, he dropped it over the wall. Seeking vainly to compose the features that a chilling fear had now disturbed, he turned to see who came. |
| 12423 |
Secretly, for it was not Peppy's way to take men into his confidence where it might be avoided, he got himself a coil of rope. Having descended and quietly opened the postern, he made one end fast and lowered the other to the water with extreme care, lest he should dislodge, and so lose, that paper. |
| 12424 |
Then hand over hand again, and with a frantic haste, for he feared observation not only from the castle sentries but also from the watchers in the besieger's camp, he climbed back to the postern, exulting in that he had gone unobserved, and contemptuous for the vigilance of those that should have observed him. |
| 12425 |
Yet faithful to Francesco, who sat all unconcerned, and not wishing to alarm Valentina, he choked back the warning that rose to his lips, seeking to convince himself that his fears sprang perhaps from an excess of suspicion. Had he known how well founded indeed they were he might have practised less self restraint. |
| 12426 |
Gonzaga sought his bed. A fierce joy consumed him at having so consummately planned Valentina's ruin, yet he did not wish to face her again that night. But when on the morrow the herald wound his horn again beneath the castle walls, Gonzaga was prominent in the little group that attended Monna Valentina. |
| 12427 |
If so be that he intends in truth to bombard us, let him begin forthwith. We are ready for him, as you perceive. Maybe he did not suppose us equipped with cannon; but there they stand. Those guns are trained upon his camp, and the first shot he fires upon us shall be a signal for such a reply as he little dreams of. |
| 12428 |
Every fibre of his being urged him to gather her to his breast, whilst he poured courage and comfort into her ear. He fainted almost with desire to kiss those tender eyes, upturned to his in her piteous pleading that he should not endanger his own life. But suppressing all, he only smiled, though very tenderly. |
| 12429 |
All hell they thought could not have hindered them, and yet at sight of that tall figure, bright as an angel, in his panoply of glittering steel, with that great sword poised on his left shoulder, some of the impetuousness seemed to fall from them. Still they advanced, Cappoccio's voice shouting encouragement. |
| 12430 |
Round his head it went, and back again before them, handled as though it had been a whip, and bringing them, silent, to a standstill. He bore it back to his shoulder, and alert for the first movement, his blood on fire, and ready to slay a man or two should the example become necessary, he addressed them. |
| 12431 |
Thus thought she now. But in the moment of his going, fear had chilled her to the heart, and when she first saw him take his stand before them, she had turned half distraught, and begged Gonzaga not to linger at her side, but to go lend what aid he could to that brave knight who stood so sorely in need of it. |
| 12432 |
So evil a light leapt to Cappoccio's eye that Francesco carried his free hand to the sword which he had lowered. But Cappoccio only looked up at Gonzaga, and grinned malevolently. It had penetrated his dull wits that he had been the tool of a judas, who sought to sell the castle for a thousand florins. |
| 12433 |
He had by now regained his composure. He saw that he stood in deadly peril, and the very fear that possessed him seemed, by an odd paradox, to lend him the strength to play his part. Valentina eyed him with a something of mistrust in her glance. But on Francesco's clear countenance no shadow of suspicion showed. |
| 12434 |
Her thoughts were all with him that had left the board. Scarcely a word had she exchanged with Francesco since that delirious moment when they had looked into each other's eyes upon the ramparts, and seen the secret that each was keeping from the other. Why had he not come to her? she asked herself. |
| 12435 |
She rose quietly from the table ere Gonzaga's song was done, and as quietly she slipped from the room. It was a fine night, the air heavy with the vernal scent of fertile lands, and the deep cobalt of the heavens a glittering, star flecked dome in a lighter space of which floated the half disk of the growing moon. |
| 12436 |
Valentina watched his retreating figure until it had vanished round the angle of the wall. Then with a profound sigh, that was as a prayer of thanksgiving for this great good that had come into her life, she leaned upon the parapet and looked out into the darkness, her cheeks flushed, her heart still beating high. |
| 12437 |
It was also the realisation that if he would take payment from her for this treatment of him, if he would slake his vengeance, he must stay. One plan had failed him. But his mind was fertile, and he might devise another that might succeed and place Gian Maria in Roccaleone. Thus should he be amply venged. |
| 12438 |
Every morning thereafter he appeared at Mass, and by the piety and fervour of his devotions became an example to all the others. Now this was not lost on Valentina, who was convent bred, and in a measure devout. She read in this singular alteration of his ways the undoubtable indication of an altered character. |
| 12439 |
Seeing him so penitent, and concluding from it that he was not likely to transgress again, she readmitted him to her favour, and, little by little, the old friendly state was re established and was the sounder, perhaps, by virtue of her confidence that after what had passed he would not again misunderstand her. |
| 12440 |
Thus did Gonzaga conquer the confidence and esteem of all during that peaceful week. He seemed a changed man, and all save Peppe saw in this change a matter for increased trust and friendship towards him. But the astute fool looked on and pondered. Such transformations as these were not effected in a night. |
| 12441 |
Gian Maria must construct him a light, portable bridge, and have it in readiness to span the moat and silently pour his soldiers into the castle through that little gate. And so, the plot matured and every detail clear, he got him to his chamber and penned the letter that was to rejoice the heart of Gian Maria. |
| 12442 |
Zaccaria looked startled at the order. This was scarcely the reception he had expected after so imperilling his life to reach the castle with his letter. "Where is my lord?" he inquired, through teeth that chattered from the cold of his immersion, wondering vaguely who this very magnificent gentleman might be. |
| 12443 |
What did his friend Fanfulla write him? He took the letter up and made a close inspection of the seal. Then softly, quietly, slowly he drew his dagger. If his suspicions were unfounded, his dagger heated in the taper should afford him the means to conceal the fact that he had tampered with that missive. |
| 12444 |
A score of times during that week had he been on the point of disclosing himself, of telling her who and what he was. Yet ever had he hesitated, putting off that disclosure until the season should appear more fitting. This he now considered the present. She trusted him, and there was no reason to remain silent longer. |
| 12445 |
A moment he hesitated in the doorway, looking from one to the other, and Francesco, lazily regarding him in his turn, noted that his cheeks were pale and that his eyes glittered like those of a man with the fever. Then he stepped forward, and, leaving the door open behind him, he advanced into the room. |
| 12446 |
A sudden chill encompassed her at that reflection. Oh, it was impossible, absurd! And yet she took the letter from the table. With knit brows she read it, whilst Gonzaga watched her, scarce able to keep the satisfaction from gleaming in his eyes. She read it slowly, and as she read her face grew deathly pale. |
| 12447 |
When she had finished she stood silent for a long minute, her eyes upon the signature and her mind harking back to what Gonzaga had said, and drawing comparison between that and such things as had been done and uttered, and nowhere did she find the slightest gleam of that discrepancy which so ardently she sought. |
| 12448 |
Ercole's eyes were wide at the news, and he might have gone the length of interposing a question, when Gonzaga curtly bade him go to the armoury tower, and bring thence the soldier and the man Gonzaga had left in his care. "I will leave no shadow of doubt in your mind, Madonna," he said in explanation. |
| 12449 |
He had meant to say more. He had meant to add the announcement of Francesco's banishment from Babbiano and his notorious unwillingness to mount his cousin's throne. He had meant to make her understand that had Francesco been so minded, he had no need to stoop to such an act as this that she imputed to him. |
| 12450 |
He had come to respect and, in his rough way, even to love their masterful Provost, and since learning his true identity, in the hour of arresting him, his admiration had grown to something akin to reverence for the condottiero whose name to the men at arms of Italy was like the name of some patron saint. |
| 12451 |
On the table at his side lay a quarrel swathed in a sheet of paper. Swiftly and silently Ercole moved round the tower, and the next instant he had pushed open the unfastened door and entered. A scream of terror greeted him, and a very startled face was turned upon him by Gonzaga, who instantly sprang upright. |
| 12452 |
Left alone, Gonzaga lay face downward where he had been flung, able to do little more than groan and sweat in the extremity of his despair, whilst he awaited the coming of those who would probably make an end of him. Not even from Valentina could he hope for mercy, so incriminating was the note he had penned. |
| 12453 |
His letter was to enjoin the Duke to hold his men in readiness at the hour of the Angelus next morning, and to wait until Gonzaga should wave a handkerchief from the battlements. At that he was to advance immediately to the postern, which he would find open, and the rest, Gonzaga promised him, would be easy. |
| 12454 |
Urge him to promise you money, immunity, what you will, as your reward; but make him believe you sincere, and induce him to shoot his precious bolt. Now go! Lose no time, or they may be returning from chapel, and your opportunity will be lost. Come to me here, afterwards, and I will tell you what is in my mind. |
| 12455 |
Francesco and his two followers. Gonzaga had presented himself to Valentina with the plausible tale that, as the events of which Fanfulla's letter had given them knowledge might lead Gian Maria at any moment to desperate measures, it might be well that he should reinforce the single man at arms patrolling the walls. |
| 12456 |
And so, his face drawn and his body quivering with the excitement of what he was about to do, Gonzaga had repaired to the ramparts so soon as he had seen them all safely into chapel. The sentinel was that same clerkly youth Aventano, who had read to the soldiers that letter Gian Maria had sent Gonzaga. |
| 12457 |
The mist was rapidly lightening, and the country grew visible for miles around. In the camp of Gian Maria he observed a coming and going of men that argued an inordinate bustle for so early an hour. They awaited his signal. He approached the young sentinel, growing more and more nervous as the time for action advanced. |
| 12458 |
It came to him that moments were passing, and that the thing must be done. Yet Aventano was a sinewy youth, and if the sudden stab he meditated failed him, he would be at the fellow's mercy. At the thought he shivered again, and his face turned grey. He moved away a step, and then inspiration brought him a cruel ruse. |
| 12459 |
And we have made our plans and prepared the ground. When Gian Maria's soldiers enter, they will find the outer doors barred and locked, and we shall gain a little time while they break through them. My men, as you will observe, are even now barring the door of the chapel to impose a further obstacle. |
| 12460 |
Already Fortemani and his dozen men had disappeared at the trot, making for the front of the castle, when Francesco stepped last upon the bridge, and closed the postern after him. Then he glided rapidly to the ground, and with the assistance of a dozen ready hands he dragged away the scaling ladder. |
| 12461 |
In that opening, presently, appeared Gian Maria, his face red for once, and behind him a clamouring crowd of men at arms who shared their master's rage at the manner in which they had been trapped. At the rear of the tents Valentina and her ladies awaited the issue of the parley that now seemed toward. |
| 12462 |
In fact, he will be an outcast with no title to lay claim to, if indeed the Babbianians will leave him a head at all; whilst I, at least, though not a duke with a tottering throne, am a count with lands, small but securely held, and shall become a duke if Gian Maria refuses to relinquish me your niece. |
| 12463 |
In the dimly lighted passage the landlord bustled to inquire his needs. The inn's best room, its best supper, and the best wine that it could yield. He issued his commands in fairly fluent Italian. His voice was level and pleasantly modulated, yet vibrant in its undertones with the energy and force of his nature. |
| 12464 |
It was heralded by a voice on the stairs; a man's voice, loud and vehement and delivering itself harshly in French. The door of Mr. Melville's room had been left ajar, and the words carried clearly to him where he sat. It was not merely what was said that brought a frown to his brow, but the voice itself. |
| 12465 |
Its owner had turned to close the door, whilst speaking. Turning again, and confronting the stranger, who had risen, the Frenchman's utterance was abruptly checked; the last vestige of colour was driven from his coarsely featured face; his dark eyes dilated in an astonishment that gradually changed to fear. |
| 12466 |
Having been at such pains to sentence me, you would not be likely to neglect to make sure that the sentence had been executed. Only that, Lebel, could give you security of tenure in my lands. Only that could ensure that when France returns to sanity, you will not be kicked back to the dunghill where you belong. |
| 12467 |
Mr. Melville was without weapons other than his bare hands. But there was more of the Englishman in him than the name. Before the muzzle of that slowly drawn pistol had cleared the lip of Lebel's pocket a bunch of knuckles crashed into the point of his jaw. The blow sent him reeling backwards across the room. |
| 12468 |
He realized at once that Lebel's head had struck it in his fall, and that it had pierced his skull. With a catch in his breath, Mr. Melville went down on one knee beside the body, thrust his hand inside the breast of the coat, and felt for the heart. The man was dead. He came to his feet again, shuddering, nauseated. |
| 12469 |
There were no explanations that would save or serve him. Investigation of his identity, if they troubled about that, would merely provide confirmation of the deliberate murderous intent with which it would be assumed that he had acted. Only instant flight remained, and even of this the chances were dismayingly slender. |
| 12470 |
But whilst the horses were being harnessed and the postilion was making ready, it was unthinkable that no one should enter his room, that there should be no inquiry for the French representative who had gone to interview him. His very action in calling for his chaise must excite suspicion and inquiry. |
| 12471 |
He stepped briskly to the door, and pulled it open. From the threshold, whilst putting out his hand to take his hat from the console, his eyes, those grey eyes that were normally so calm and steady, wandered in a last glance of horror to the supine form with its head by the hearth and its toes pointing to the ceiling. |
| 12472 |
What was to do he by now perceived. Precisely how to do it might be suggested, he hoped, by the papers in the representative's dispatch case. He made a beginning by transferring the sash of office from Lebel's waist to his own. In adjusting it, he surveyed himself in the long gilt framed mirror above the console. |
| 12473 |
These objects he bestowed suitably in the pockets of Lebel. To his own pockets he transferred all that he had taken from Lebel's, with the exception of the little bunch of keys, which he placed on the table, and the linen backed passport, which he now unfolded. His eyes brightened at the terms of it. |
| 12474 |
He sat down and made experiments. The ink was stale and deep in colour, a shade deeper than that on the document, he thinned it with water from a carafe, adding drop by drop until he was satisfied. Then he chose a quill, tested it, cut it, tested it again, and rehearsed with it on a separate sheet of paper. |
| 12475 |
He checked at what he beheld upon the floor. Then his questioning glance travelled to the man who, pencil in hand at the table, sat as unconcernedly busy with some documents as if corpses were his daily companions. The truculent eyes of the soldier met a sterner truculence in the eyes of the gentleman with the pencil. |
| 12476 |
Foolishly I announced the intention of sending for you that he might render a proper account of himself before you. At that he drew a pistol on me. It is there on the floor. I struck him. He fell, and by the mercy of Providence broke his head on that fire iron, on which, if you look, you will find blood. |
| 12477 |
Now that the facts proved the error of this assumption, she must be brought to perceive the danger to herself in further temporizing, and out of a spirit of self preservation, if from no loftier motive, unite with those who stood in arms against the common peril. This was to be the Vicomte de Saulx's mission. |
| 12478 |
Should Bonaparte display any troublesome arrogance, let Lebel remind him that the hand that had raised him starving from the gutter could as easily restore him to it. There were minute instructions for the future conduct of the Italian campaign, but in no particular were they so minute as in what concerned Venice. |
| 12479 |
He came by boat from Mestre, where he had lain the night, and from afar as they approached the Canareggio it seemed to him that there floated before his gaze not indeed a city, but some vast fantastic jewel, compounded of marble and gold, of coral, porphyry and ivory, set in a vaster jewel of sapphire lagoon and sky. |
| 12480 |
He was lodged on the piano nobile in an ample salon, sparsely furnished and cool with a stone floor and clumsily frescoed ceiling where cupids of unparallelled obesity rioted in an incredibly gaudy vegetable kingdom. A bedroom with a vast canopied bed, and a powder cupboard adjoining, completed his lodging. |
| 12481 |
He installed himself, unpacked, and sent for a hairdresser. He had travelled straight from Turin, and he had accomplished the journey in two days. In this he had been extremely fortunate, for the movements of the battered Austrian troops about the country east of the Mincio might easily have hindered and delayed him. |
| 12482 |
But he had shirked a course that was fraught with so much risk, and had contented himself with writing to the French commander. Thus he created with Barras the impression of having represented the wishes of the Directory to Bonaparte, and he could leave Barras to suppose that this had been done orally. |
| 12483 |
Jacob brought the ambassador a folded note, which he said had been given to him by the door keeper Philippe. Lallemant looked up from his papers. He was a man in middle life of a comfortable habit of body and a full, kindly, rather pallid face that like a pear was wider at the base than at the summit. |
| 12484 |
He makes himself pleasant to my wife, and frequently acts as an escort for her when she goes abroad. Also, since I am aware of his real trade, I take him into my confidence now and then, and disclose to him as political secrets just those matters which it suits me that the inquisitors of state should believe. |
| 12485 |
However, the end was not yet reached. Austria disposed of vast resources, and none could doubt but that she would employ them freely and endeavour to re establish herself in Lombardy. The odds against France were heavy enough already, and it was his business to see that they were rendered no heavier. |
| 12486 |
An alliance, sir, sets up obligations, which are not in honour or even in decency afterwards to be evaded. France has very definite views on the subject of Venice. Venice is to be delivered from her oligarchic government. It is our sacred mission to carry the torch of liberty and of reason into her territories. |
| 12487 |
Those generals prepared to give him a reception that should make him think twice about remaining with the Army of Italy. Augereau, masterful and violent, was loudest in how he would put the upstart down. Bonaparte arrived. You know what he looks like. A starveling wisp of a fellow, frail and pallid as a consumptive. |
| 12488 |
I shall establish my good faith by dealing with them precisely as you deal with this spy of theirs who has been installed in your house. I shall give them some scraps of information about the French, which, whilst worthless and perhaps even quite false, shall have all the appearance of being valuable and true. |
| 12489 |
Personal profit apart, however, the cause was one to which by birth he owed his loyalty, and loyally he would spend himself in its service, right or wrong. From the austere English lady, his mother, he had inherited a lofty and even troublesome sense of duty, which his education had further ingrained. |
| 12490 |
It was his ardent desire to resume them, now that the way was clear, which had dictated his journey to Venice. A thousand times in the last month he had in fancy embraced Domenico, gripped the hand of the Count and pressed his lips upon the fingers of the Countess, and more lingeringly upon the fingers of Isotta. |
| 12491 |
A jewel glowed in the fine old Valenciennes at his throat, and paste buckles sparkled on his lacquered shoes. He stepped into a wide hall whose walls were inlaid with marble, where the red liveried porter was lighting the lamp set in a great gilded lantern that once had crowned the poop of a Venetian galley. |
| 12492 |
Then the door opened, to admit a young man who, in his tall slimness and proud, darkly handsome face, was so reminiscent of his sister that Mr. Melville momentarily seemed to see her in him. The young captain stood at gaze upon the threshold, his expression almost scared, his hand trembling on the cut glass door knob. |
| 12493 |
Her very lips seemed pale, and her dark eyes, the normal softness of whose glance tempered the austerity of her features, were dilated as she stared at him. She had ripened, he observed, in the three years and more that were gone since he had last beheld her in London, on the night before he left for France. |
| 12494 |
But it was a ripening that was no more than the rich fulfilment of the promise of her nineteenth year. It had not then seemed that she could be more desirable; yet more desirable he found her now; a woman to cherish, to worship, to serve; who in return would be a source of inspiration and a fount of honour to a man. |
| 12495 |
Then he stood close before Isotta. She gave him her hand; her lips quivered into a smile; her eyes were wistful. He took the hand, and whilst it lay ice cold in his, there followed a pause. He waited for some word from her. None coming, he bowed his dark glossy head, and kissed her fingers very reverently. |
| 12496 |
Our impoverishment has been gradual now for two hundred years, and accelerated of late by incompetent government. Our frontiers, once so wide and far flung, are sadly shrunken; our might that in its day evoked the League of Cambrai against us, so that we stood to face a world in arms, has largely withered. |
| 12497 |
Isotta looked on with an odd solemnity, like a person entranced, whilst Marc Antoine, observing her with eyes from which he manfully withheld the pain that gnawed him, was beset by the notion that these matters about which Count Pizzamano waxed so phrenetic were less than nothing. Domenico's voice aroused him. |
| 12498 |
Then, swiftly and skilfully he shifted the talk to the safer ground of politics and the latest rumours from Milan concerning the French and this campaign. He indulged the optimism that obviously was fundamental to his nature. This little Corsican would presently receive a sound whipping from the Emperor. |
| 12499 |
Its pallor and the lassitude and sadness which he could not exclude from his eyes as they considered her, told her what the lips withheld. Then she realized that he was gone, and Ser Leonardo effusive to the end had insisted upon going with him, upon carrying him off in his gondola to deposit him at his inn. |
| 12500 |
Domenico, darkly thoughtful, had retired abruptly, and his mother had followed. Isotta lingered in the loggia whither she had now returned, looking out into the garden over which the moon had risen. Her father, thoughtful, too, his countenance troubled, approached her and set a hand affectionately upon her shoulder. |
| 12501 |
When she removed the white silk vizor, Marc Antoine sprang to her with a cry that was of concern rather than of joy; for the face she showed him framed in the black lines of the bauta was more nunlike than ever in its pallor. Her dark eyes were wistful pools through which a soul looked out in sorrow and some fear. |
| 12502 |
And because they, too, loved you, they were very tender and compassionate with me; and they helped me back to calm and to a measure of peace. The peace of resignation. The superficial peace we carry over memories that are stirred to life a hundred times a day to bleed the heart in secret. You were gone. |
| 12503 |
He loved me. In any time but this, his position in life would have made a barrier that he would not even have attempted to surmount. But he knew what an endowment he gathered from his influence with men in his own sorry case; he knew how this must be viewed by a man of my father's burning patriotism. |
| 12504 |
He knew how to present it, too, so that it should profoundly impress my father. You understand. They put it to me that I could do a great service to the tottering State, by enlisting on the side of all our ancient sacred institutions a man of enough influence to sway the issue if it came to a struggle between parties. |
| 12505 |
Over his shoulder, in that moment, he had a glimpse of another face, fair and florid. Then, as abruptly as it had been opened, the door was closed again by the hurriedly retreating landlord. But a deep, rich laugh from beyond it came to add to the confusion of Isotta, conscious of that momentary detection. |
| 12506 |
He stooped and picked up an object that in size and shape was like the half of a large pea. The sunlight struck a dull glow from it as it lay in his palm. He looked over his shoulder. The door to the bedroom was closed. He continued his walk to the balcony. There he stood contemplating the little jewel. |
| 12507 |
Today, before the wondering eyes of Marc Antoine, the sparkling human stream poured along the Schiavoni, past the gloomy prison and the unfortunate wretches who showed themselves grimacing behind the massive bars or thrust forth claws for alms, to be commiserated by some, but to move the derision of more. |
| 12508 |
This was the heart of the great city and here the pulsations of its vivid life were strongest. By the rich bronze pedestals of the three great flagstaffs a quacksalver, in a fantastic hat with a panache that was a rainbow of dyed cocks' feathers, hoarsely called his unguents, perfumes, and cosmetics. |
| 12509 |
His face was large and pallid, with sagging cheeks and very dark, lack lustre eyes under heavy tufted black brows. The aquiline nose had been thickened by age; the upper of the heavy lips protruded, adding an expression that was almost foolish to the general weariness of his unimpressive countenance. |
| 12510 |
Immovable as an idol, there was no sound from him beyond an occasional hiss or chuckle as the croupier made his announcements and plied his rake. Vendramin was losing steadily, and in a measure as he lost his methods grew more obstinately reckless. Not once when he won did Marc Antoine see him take up his winnings. |
| 12511 |
Marc Antoine set his losses at between two and three hundred ducats before diminishing stakes implied the approaching end of his resources. At last, he pushed back his chair, and wearily rose. After a moment, his eyes alighting on Marc Antoine, he seemed suddenly to grow conscious of a forgotten presence. |
| 12512 |
And once more it proved a losing one, so that the borrowed money was consumed. But before that final card was turned, a slight wisp of a woman in palest violet, with golden hair piled high and almost innocent of powder, no doubt from pride in its natural bright colour, had come to take her stand behind Vendramin. |
| 12513 |
She watched the turn of the card, craning her slender neck a little, her fan moving gently to and fro beneath a countenance quietly composed. She even smiled a little at the muttered oath with which Vendramin greeted his final loss. Then her hand descended suddenly upon his shoulder as if to detain him in his seat. |
| 12514 |
It was his practice to write his dispatches currently in his own hand, as if a secretary were employed, appending the signature and flourish of the dead Lebel, which he had rehearsed until he could perfectly reproduce them. Days followed of observant waiting for the Grand Council which the Doge had promised to convene. |
| 12515 |
After supper, when they sought in the loggia the cool of the summer night, she hung behind, and took her way alone to the harpsichord placed under the window at the long room's other end. The strains of a sweetly melancholy air of Cimarosa's broke forth under her fingers, as if in expression of her mood. |
| 12516 |
Having given this expression to her besetting dread, she was forsaken by the little courage that had still upheld her. Her hands crashed a discordant jangle from the keys, her head sank forward, and Isotta, usually so calmly proud and self contained, was bowing over the instrument and sobbing like a hurt child. |
| 12517 |
It lasted no more than a few seconds; but long enough to be perceived by those in the loggia, already startled by the explosive discord from the harpsichord. Donna Leocadia came hastening down the room in a flutter of maternal concern; and, no doubt, with more than a suspicion of the source of this distress. |
| 12518 |
You see how my father fawns upon him tonight now that he has given proof of his power. That is the expression of my father's love for Venice. Against that selfless passion of patriotism, to which he will sacrifice everything that he possesses, don't you see that it is idle to contend? We must bow, Marc. |
| 12519 |
But the guillotine having taken off the Duke's head, Philibert found himself out of work, and since other aristocratic heads in France seemed equally impermanent, Philibert, following the example of his betters, had emigrated from a republic in which the National Barber left hairdressers without employment. |
| 12520 |
He strolled in familiarly, swinging a gold headed cane, and found himself a chair by the dressing table, whence he faced the lathered Mr. Melville. He entertained the supposed Englishman with small talk and little anecdotes, mostly scandalous and sometimes salacious, of which invariably he was the hero. |
| 12521 |
There was no gaming here. Its rooms were devoted to intellectual reunions. It was a temple of arts and letters, in which La Teotochi was the high priestess; in which the compositions of the day supplied the topics of conversation; and in which the advanced ideas of life imported from France were given a free flight. |
| 12522 |
In Marc Antoine the lovely Teotochi could discern no claim to her lofty interest. She gave him a languid, careless welcome. She was absorbed and entranced at the moment by a youth with a lean, pale, Semitic face and ardent eyes, who, leaning over her where she reclined, talked volubly and vehemently. |
| 12523 |
He had discovered the porcelain lady of the Casino del Leone enthroned on a settee, receiving the courtship of a little group of lively gallants, amongst whom he recognized Rocco Terzi of the uneasy eyes. Observing her he reflected that it is rarely given to a man to enjoy the advantage of contemplating his own widow. |
| 12524 |
Terzi bore him away to make him known to others present and to give him refreshment. As he sipped a glass of malvoisie and listened to a heated argument upon the sonnet between two dilettanti, he saw Vendramin in the place he had vacated beside the little spurious Vicomtesse, very deeply and earnestly in talk. |
| 12525 |
But, after all, so had the preparations the Serenissima was making. Most probably the French were, like themselves, merely disposing for a remote eventuality. He was the more persuaded that it was remote in view of the assurances he had received that peace between France and the Empire would not now be long delayed. |
| 12526 |
A brother of Terzi's, hearing of the arrest, presented himself two days later before the inquisitors of state, to offer with brotherly solicitude to procure anything lacking for the prisoner's comfort. He received from the secretary the smooth sibylline reply that nothing whatever was then necessary to the prisoner. |
| 12527 |
He protested that he was just a poor devil at the mercy of a cruel fate, with a great name to maintain and perpetuate, and able to do it only by a marriage of convenience. Knowing how he loved her, as she must know from the proofs he had given, it was cruel of her to cast his misfortunes in his teeth. |
| 12528 |
And the need to think had rarely been more imperative. He stood, he realized, on the very edge of discovery. And he most certainly would be hurled over that edge unless he could completely stifle Lallemant's well founded suspicions. To accomplish it some ultra Jacobin gesture was necessary at whatever cost. |
| 12529 |
Yet for months he has been suffered to continue unmolested in the enjoyment of Venetian hospitality, abusing it to our constant detriment. Have you really been blind to the harm that he is doing us? It seems you must have been, since it has been necessary for me to take in hand the work you should have done. |
| 12530 |
He no longer had a thought for the suspicions which had originally been urging him. He was already far, indeed, from those, more than persuaded of their utter idleness. This man Lebel showed himself to be an extremist, a revolutionary of the intransigent school which had passed away with Robespierre. |
| 12531 |
To suspect the republican zeal of a man capable of conceiving such an ultimatum was utterly fantastic. He might not yet perfectly understand Lebel's explanation of his visit to the inquisitors. But he was no longer even concerned to understand it, in view of the fruits of it with which he was presented. |
| 12532 |
This, because in the ultimatum, which bore his signature, an event of the previous week was given as the immediate cause of it. Since there could not have been time to communicate with Paris on that matter, it became clear, not only that this Lebel was in Venice, but further that he was acting upon his own initiative. |
| 12533 |
His case is an illustration of how the conferring of benefits can appear to establish a liability to continue them. Instead of gratitude for the hospitality enjoyed, he displayed only resentment that it should be discontinued, and that Venice should be unwilling to defy on his behalf the guns of Bonaparte. |
| 12534 |
Thus, save for transient alarms and transient upliftings, life in hedonistic Venice flowed much as usual, and Marc Antoine found in it little more than the part of the English idler he had assumed. In those months his only activity on behalf of the cause he served was concerned with another denunciation. |
| 12535 |
After weeks of patient vigilance, the Signors of the Night were at last able to report such a boat. After operations which could have no legitimate object, this vessel was wont to repair to a house in the Giudecca. The person with whom the boatmen communicated there was a gentleman in poor circumstances named Sartoni. |
| 12536 |
He was to be seen at theatres and casinos, often accompanied by Vendramin, who continued freely to borrow money from him whilst keeping him under observation. He was being a source of definite anxiety to Vendramin, who could not rid himself of the feeling that between Marc Antoine and Isotta some intelligence existed. |
| 12537 |
Whether Venice stands or falls depends today no longer upon those entrusted with her government, but upon whether the French or the Austrians prevail in this struggle. Therefore, it must seem to me that Vendramin can have little claim to be rewarded for services he will never be called upon to render. |
| 12538 |
He had the sense to know that he could not rant here as in the salon of the Vicomtesse. Isotta, of whom he went a little in dread and must so continue until he married her, was not the person to tolerate either sarcasm or innuendo. So he swallowed rage and fears, and arrayed himself in his usual effusiveness. |
| 12539 |
Although he had considered his opening, Vendramin was ill at ease. He had accepted the proffered chair and had sat down at the Count's bidding. But as he began to speak he got up again, and continued after that to pace the room, his glance chiefly upon the wood blocks that made a pattern on the floor. |
| 12540 |
But I am rich at least in power to serve my country; rich enough in this to have deserved your opinion that it abundantly compensates for what I may otherwise lack. If evidence of this, as it were, abstract wealth of mine lay in protestations, I should not have the temerity to... to come before you now with. |
| 12541 |
You are to consider that, all else apart, patriotism justifies a demand for the very fullest guarantees. If it were a question only of our own personal interests, I could be lenient. But the interests of Venice are concerned, and these impose that we should see your services fully rendered before we reward them. |
| 12542 |
Francesco Pizzamano was by nature of that philosophical turn of mind which endeavours hopefully to colour the inevitable. In his manner there was never an echo of that painful scene. But at the same time there was now a chill upon the courtesy he extended to Vendramin. Sensing it, Vendramin was not quite happy. |
| 12543 |
By contrast with a beauty so regal, the porcelain daintiness of the Vicomtesse de Saulx became trivial and commonplace. His day dream was disturbed when Isotta paused, waiting for him to turn the sheet of music. Leaning forward to do so, his eyes strayed to the fan which she had placed on top of the harpsichord. |
| 12544 |
Small wonder that he had sensed the existence of intelligences between Mr. Melville and this wanton, this cold piece who could never suffer to be left alone for a moment with her future husband lest the proprieties should be outraged. He saw this imposture, and must submit to it, pretending not to see it. |
| 12545 |
Carelessly he flicked a speck from his laces as he spoke. But under this serenity a wickedness was stirring. There had been so many reasons why he could not himself have taken the easy road of provoking Vendramin. But since the fool delivered himself so into Marc Antoine's hands, he should have full measure. |
| 12546 |
In the last three months, Vendramin, you have borrowed from me various sums amounting in all to about a thousand ducats. It does not suit me that you should cancel the debt by killing me. Nor does it suit me to lose my money by killing you. No man of honour would compel me to put the matter quite so plainly. |
| 12547 |
And upon that oath she acted when, on arrival home, she found Vendramin awaiting her. Her refusal left him stricken. Her assertion that she could not procure the money, or even half that sum, threw him into a passion. He pointed to the string of pearls about her neck, to the brilliants flashing in her solitaire. |
| 12548 |
It would be held against you that you had killed the only chance remaining to our cause, such is the power in certain quarters exercised by this worthless scoundrel. There have been things... Oh, but what use to talk of them? I do not think my father has many illusions left on the score of Vendramin. |
| 12549 |
The colonel, a short, spare man, but as tough of body as of manner, placed two heavy bags upon the table. Having done so, he clicked his heels together, bowed from the waist, stiffly, and announced that the bags contained gold to the value of nine hundred and fifty ducats due from Messer Leonardo Vendramin. |
| 12550 |
For what occurred on the morrow Vendramin blamed the dullness of the light and the slipperiness of the ground; for it was a grey morning, and it had rained a little in the night. These, however, were excuses urged to save his face. The light was not merely abundant, it was excellent because there were no reflections. |
| 12551 |
In his irritation he swore to himself that he would not be made to go dancing off like this before these charging thrusts. He would stop the next one with a time lunge that should put an end to the comedy. But his time lunge when it came was eluded by a demi volte, followed by a riposte delivered from the flank. |
| 12552 |
At a disadvantage the movement was an awkward and ungainly one. He succeeded in deflecting the thrust, but so narrowly that the sweat started from his brow in panic. Then he leapt back again out of reach, in spite of his resolve to give no more ground. Only thus could he regain his poise, mental and physical. |
| 12553 |
Confidence surged up in him. He was this man's master. What had been done once could be done again. Nor did it even prove necessary to be strategic so as to create the occasion. Vendramin himself created it, made rash by anger. His poise recovered, he bounded forward to attack relentlessly, to make an end. |
| 12554 |
He was faint from loss of blood and in need of immediate attention. Sanfermo's enthusiasm for his principal's conduct led to Mr. Melville's finding himself that same afternoon at the Casino del Leone in a celebrity which he was far indeed from desiring. But in one quarter he found himself the object of reproaches. |
| 12555 |
With that, protesting that already more words had been used in that hall than the occasion justified, he demanded that the vote be taken upon the motion presented to them by the Senator Francesco Pesaro. The barnabotti, of whom there was a full muster present, voted solidly as their leader indicated. |
| 12556 |
At the end of the performance, the night although cold being fine, the four friends, ignoring the press of gondolas in the little basin before the main entrance, left the theatre on foot. In the vestibule they had passed the Vicomtesse, who smiled a greeting to them, undeterred by the scowl of her cavalier. |
| 12557 |
Even as he was bidding them good night and good enjoyment, he caught a glimpse of two dark figures that were coming very slowly down the street from the direction of La Fenice. As he looked, they crossed the light issuing from the open doorway of a malvasia, and in one of them he recognized Ottolino. |
| 12558 |
Craning forward, Marc Antoine could just make him out crouching there in the gloom three or four yards away. He did not crouch to spring, but to guard himself as he retreated. Farther and farther back he went thus, until, judging that the distance made it safe, he suddenly straightened himself, turned and ran. |
| 12559 |
A tall man in a brocaded dressing gown of crimson, his feet in slippers, his head swathed in a kerchief, made his appearance. The right sleeve of his dressing gown hung empty. He advanced, craning to see who asked for him. Upon perceiving Marc Antoine, his face flushed scarlet. His voice came harsh with anger. |
| 12560 |
They went into a fair sized salon which if without splendours was also without meanness in its furnishings; indeed, it gathered a certain pretentiousness from a spread of tapestry covering one of its walls and the gildings on some of the movables. Vendramin remained with his back to the closed door. |
| 12561 |
Unless you want this to happen to you, you will meddle no more with me. When you realize that this is what I came to tell you, perhaps you will not resent my visit quite so much. It does not suit me to leave Venice just at present. It does not suit me to lie under a perpetual menace of assassination. |
| 12562 |
The barnabotto leader found here the cool reception which was everywhere being vouchsafed him nowadays. He fortified himself in a scorn of them, which was genuine enough. Simpering, affected, presumptuously critical and self assertive, they made up a noisy group to be found in every age and in every society. |
| 12563 |
He abased himself in excuses for his roughness, pleaded the cursed jealousy that tormented him, and passionately reminded her that jealousy was the first born of love. It was a scene they had often played before, and usually it led to kisses at the curtain. But this evening she remained cold and disdainful. |
| 12564 |
Inwardly he was a little alarmed. Like the prudent man he was, he never allowed one secret agent to know of another unless the knowledge were rendered absolutely necessary. In the case of Lebel there were more than ordinary reasons for his identity to remain closely veiled. Her answer partly allayed his apprehensions. |
| 12565 |
I know him for a man of honour; courteous, kind, considerate, and brave. I take pride in numbering him among my friends. And God knows I haven't many. He's not like the others, who pursue me because I am a woman, who turn my stomach with their gallantries and nauseate me with their calculated flattery. |
| 12566 |
He moved precariously, and haunted by dangers; the danger of losing Isotta and the great fortune that went with her; the danger of losing his very life on a false charge at the hands of the inquisitors of state. The scoundrel Melville held poised over his head a sword from which he was helpless to guard himself. |
| 12567 |
The alliance with Austria which earlier would have been a matter of generosity had then become a matter of expediency. The recent events throughout the violated Venetian provinces were an eloquent proof of how wrong was their shameful aloofness. The abuses committed by the French troops were daily accumulating. |
| 12568 |
The Serenissima was being treated with the contempt which her irresoluteness had earned. Plunder travestied as requisition was everywhere being suffered; arson, rape, and murder ravaged their mainland provinces, and if their governors or emissaries ventured to protest, they were insulted, maltreated, and threatened. |
| 12569 |
Vendramin was conscious of a chill down his spine as he listened to this. But although the argument was protracted for some hours, they could not tear the weak, vacillating old Doge from the errors to which he clung so obstinately. The matter ended, as all matters ended with which he had to deal, in compromise. |
| 12570 |
In the meanwhile he promised that he would keep in mind and further consider all that the deputation had urged, and that he would pray for guidance. He was still considering when in the early days of November Alvinzy's army began to march. And then, suddenly, Venice rang with news of Austrian successes. |
| 12571 |
Four days after writing that dispatch, he heavily defeated Alvinzy's army on the bloody field of Arcola, and drove its wreckage before him. But the consequent dismay was not long to endure. Soon it was realized that the French had snatched victory from the ashes of defeat at a cost they could not afford. |
| 12572 |
He had no qualms in writing thus. His representations, he knew, could add nothing to those which Bonaparte himself was making; and it was clear that if the Directory had not found it possible to respond adequately to similar demands in the past, the events on the Rhine would render it even less possible now. |
| 12573 |
It was celebrated in Venice with gaieties as unrestrained as usual, or, if restrained at all, restrained merely by the intense cold of a winter that brought the rare spectacle of snow on the house tops and ice floes in the canals of Fusina and Marghera. The result was to drive the people to seek indoor amusements. |
| 12574 |
Patrician men and women, in mask and bauta, their quality proclaimed by their silks and velvets and gold laced hats, mingled freely with the noisy populace, sharing their greed of laughter, and as reckless of the doom which was advancing so relentlessly upon the Serenissima. For now the pace of events was quickening. |
| 12575 |
Nevertheless, it was deemed, even by minds as intrepid as that of Count Pizzamano, that these forces were inadequate now for an offensive alliance. Manin was constrained to admit, at least in private and almost in tears, the error of having missed the moment for action which had presented itself just before Rivoli. |
| 12576 |
His spare, sinewy legs were encased in white buckskins and black knee boots with reversed yellow tops. He wore a long riding coat of rough brown cloth with silver buttons and very wide lapels. And on the conical brown hat which he retained he had plastered a tricolour cockade. He was without visible weapons. |
| 12577 |
Beautifully dressed himself, for the occasion, in a shimmering satin coat that was striped in two shades of blue, he eyed with disgust the unceremonious redingote and buckskins and loosely knotted neckcloth in which this very obvious Jacobin presumed to intrude upon a lady of quality. Lallemant made himself at home. |
| 12578 |
In his heart he cursed the day when he had first seen the Vicomtesse, cursed every ducat that he had ever borrowed from her. That scoundrel Melville had been able to blackmail him with this threat into foregoing a just vengeance; and now the thing was being used again to force him into this treachery. |
| 12579 |
It was too much of a coincidence that both he and these admitted French agents should adopt exactly the same method of imposing their wills upon him. And from this suddenly sprang a thought which proved the determining factor in his agony of vacillation. He looked at them with eyes that narrowed suddenly. |
| 12580 |
And Villetard himself was present to see that he went no further. For the rest Villetard loyally supported him in the assertion that they must retain the drafts in their possession, and that Vendramin must rest content with their assurance that they would not be employed to his detriment unless he himself provoked it. |
| 12581 |
What he said to Lallemant was that without a definite guarantee he would not act; and that no guarantee would serve him short of delivery to him of the actual drafts upon his fulfilment of what was required of him. Upon this he was actually on the point of taking his leave when Villetard intimated surrender. |
| 12582 |
This man procured two others who were willing to work with him. But since the fate of their predecessors went to show with what terrible risks the task was fraught, these scoundrels required very substantial emoluments. Vendramin found the embassy accommodatingly liberal. Lallemant did not stint supplies. |
| 12583 |
Vendramin deplored so much secrecy at such a time. A parade of the functioning of the inquisitors must prove a salutary deterrent to enemy agents. Pizzamano listened and approved him, and in this way Ser Leonardo improved his credit with the Count, and at the same time increased the despair of Isotta. |
| 12584 |
He strolled the length of the Procuratie, scanning the occupants of the tables at Florian's, greeted here with a nod and there with a wave of the hand. Those who hailed him were chiefly fellow barnabotti taking the spring air, and a little wine at somebody's expense. For some time he did not find what he sought. |
| 12585 |
It was late afternoon, and as the March daylight began to fade, she relinquished her work, and reclined with closed eyes. Eye strain had induced a drowsiness to which she yielded. Suddenly she was aware of voices at the other end of the room. From this and the deepening twilight, she realized that she had been asleep. |
| 12586 |
The intention must have been to discredit us in the eyes of the world, as a measure of preparation for whatever the French were brewing. For that, if there were nothing else against him, it has always been our intention to deal with this spy, when discovered and caught, as spies are always dealt with. |
| 12587 |
By this time tomorrow, unless something were meanwhile done, it might be too late to do anything. With a sense of suffocation she realized the urgency of action. From the way Corner had spoken it might already be too late even to warn him. And what else was there that she could do? She was suddenly on her feet. |
| 12588 |
In view of the greatly superior French forces, the Austrian defeat was considered inevitable. When it occurred, if the situation were properly handled, it should be possible to end, not merely the campaign, but the war itself. Austria, if properly approached, should be more than ready to make peace. |
| 12589 |
Very serious and very sad. I must take you for my confessor, dreadful though you may account my confession. But it is less dreadful to me that you should know the real truth than that you should suppose that I could be moved to love for such a man as Vendramin. Listen, then, my dear, and listen compassionately. |
| 12590 |
I'll say no more about it now. But if we are to work in harmony, Citizen Villetard, you will keep it present in your mind that here I am the plenipotentiary representative of the Directory, that steps of any political significance are not to be taken behind my back, but only after consultation with me. |
| 12591 |
The burly French porter emerging from his lodge ended the lad's anxieties with the answer that Monsieur Melville was above stairs, and he sent up his wife to inform the gentleman of this messenger who begged for a word with him. Discreetly Renzo withheld all mention either of a letter or of its sender. |
| 12592 |
The Vicomtesse, following his shadowy figure with her glance, saw at that moment another shadowy figure detach itself from the deeper shadows of a building at the mouth of the alley, hover a moment as Renzo approached, then melt back again into the gloom. But she saw without observing, her mind preoccupied. |
| 12593 |
A piercing scream for help rang out from the Vicomtesse before the two were upon them. Marc Antoine's first assumption was that he had to deal with the poursuivants of the inquisitors. But the sinister silence of this attack put the assumption in such doubt that he whipped out his blade. And only just in time. |
| 12594 |
Before their threatening blades even the man with the oar, who was the only one who had a weapon of any description, fell impotently back. Thus they reached the quay, and the man in the mask almost tumbled into the gondola that awaited them, sick and faint from a wound which he had ignored until the business was over. |
| 12595 |
All her attention the while strained upon the intent face of Jacob, whose hands were quietly busy with the body. He turned Marc Antoine gently over where he lay, disclosing a pool of blood. As she realized the nature of that dark patch gleaming in the light of the lantern, a long drawn cry of horror escaped her. |
| 12596 |
The young Jew kept his wits about him and remembered that silence is the best provision for all circumstances. Renzo, however, did not account his mistress included in that injunction. Introduced to her by her maid, he delivered Marc Antoine's note, and, when she had read it, he told her what had happened. |
| 12597 |
To Lallemant, whom this visit profoundly surprised, she was admitted without a moment's hesitation. In the salon that was his work room, he advanced to meet her, his air deferential. He was not alone. By the writing table, in the background, two men remained standing with whom he had been in talk when she was admitted. |
| 12598 |
She had never supposed other than that the inquisitor repeated some false rumour. But now it seemed that such a woman did, indeed, exist. It was bewildering. As she tried to recall the exact words that had passed, she heard again her father's confident assertion that the Vicomtesse de Saulx must be an impostor. |
| 12599 |
And yet she found this woman installed here at the wounded man's bedside. It was disquieting, inexplicable. It still clouded her mind when Lallemant had escorted her to the vestibule where her servant waited. He was assuring her, not only that her friend Melville would be well cared for, but also that he would be safe. |
| 12600 |
Marc Antoine was definitely out of all danger. But her indignation remained and it informed the tale that she told her brother. Appalled, Domenico hesitated to believe, for all his dislike of Vendramin, that the man would stoop to murder. Perhaps that very dislike made him honourably cautious in his assumptions. |
| 12601 |
Since then he has hung between life and death. His first action when he can summon sufficient strength for the effort is to send me this precious piece of information; something done at the greatest peril to himself. I trust this will persuade you in whose interest he works. But let that pass for the moment. |
| 12602 |
So on that same day which had seen Marc Antoine penning his warning to Count Pizzamano, Vendramin ventured abroad, in defiance of his weakness and his imperfectly healed wound. The weather was mild and genial, and the sunshine quickened the colours of the houses mirrored in the deep blue of the waters. |
| 12603 |
Pleading that he was still weak, he begged leave to sit, and found himself a chair. The Count and his son remained standing; the captain by the window, with his back to the light, facing their visitor; the Count pacing the small room, whilst he expounded the situation disclosed by Marc Antoine's letter. |
| 12604 |
He perceived something astir under the surface of things, something which he did not understand. So, at last, did Vendramin. The assertion that Melville lived was as dismaying a shock to him as the terms in which the assertion was made. But until he discovered what else lay behind it he would not flinch. |
| 12605 |
Test it against any other mind in Venice. Test it, if you dare, against your own father's mind. Ask him what inference he would draw if he found a lady of quality so closeted in a man's lodging; if he had seen her actually in that man's arms. If you want to break a father's heart with shame, ask him that. |
| 12606 |
The threatened imminence of this step made her realize poignantly the impossibility of taking it. Yet, if she refused, she would rightly be accounted a cheat, defrauding Vendramin of the wages at which he had been hired by her father, wages which once, perceiving no other use for herself, she had consented to be. |
| 12607 |
The display of activity was not confined to the military. The agents of the inquisitors of state were now of an extraordinary diligence, and arrests upon denunciations of Jacobinism, of espionage, or other forms of treason were taking place on every hand. Disappearances in those days of panic were commonplace. |
| 12608 |
When they were spoken, she stopped abruptly, impulsively to kiss his cheek. Then she fled from the room almost before he had realized it. He sat on where she had left him, gloomily pensive, his mind filled with an odd tenderness for this woman whom at any moment he might have accounted it his duty to denounce. |
| 12609 |
He might have been less amused had he known how closely the inquisitors of state were watching him through the ingenuous looking eyes of this lively lad. Nothing, however, was further from Marc Antoine's mind than apprehension of the danger of which Isotta had sent him warning on the night when he was assailed. |
| 12610 |
But by the time he reached the Piazza he was conscious of fatigue, and his brow was damp under his three cornered hat. It was the hour when the great square was most crowded, and today the throng of loungers seemed to him more dense than usual, and also a great deal less joyous than he had ever seen it. |
| 12611 |
This was a silly, vexatious waste of time and effort. It was of a piece with everything that he had seen of this Venetian Government, which spent itself in futilities whilst doing nothing to guard against the forces that were sapping the foundations of the State. But he preserved his calm on the surface. |
| 12612 |
He beckoned the waiter, paid for his bavaroise, and with an impeccably calm demeanour over a raging spirit, sauntered off with the tipstaff. Past the soldiers guarding the Porta della Carta, they came into the Ducal courtyard, where a half battalion of Slavonians bivouacked about the great bronze well heads. |
| 12613 |
Next, by a couple of archers, acting upon the order of the official, he was searched. But with the exception of his sword, they found upon him nothing of which they accounted it their duty to deprive him. When this was over, he was conducted by the same archers and preceded by a turnkey to the room assigned to him. |
| 12614 |
He was informed that anything in reason for which he was prepared to pay would be supplied to him, and it was suggested to him by the turnkey that he should order his supper. After that he was left to reflect as philosophically as he might upon the indubitable fact that he was a prisoner of the inquisitors. |
| 12615 |
He claimed the assistance of the first as a right, and begged that of the second as a favour. He might have spared himself the trouble. For Catarin Corner, whilst more than half persuaded of his guilt, was yet deeply concerned that he should be afforded every opportunity of establishing his innocence. |
| 12616 |
It was Cristofoli who came for him, and conducted him below to the second floor of the vast palace. He was led along a wide gallery with windows above the courtyard in which the shadows were retreating before the April sunshine and whence arose the chatter and laughter of soldiers lounging there off duty. |
| 12617 |
Cristofoli halted his prisoner before a tall, handsome door that was guarded by two archers. In the wall beside this door a lion's head of natural size was carved in stone. The open mouth was the letter box for secret denunciations. The door was opened, and Marc Antoine passed into a splendid lofty antechamber. |
| 12618 |
This subaltern at once took charge of the prisoner, and, with Cristofoli following him as a guard, ushered him into the presence of the inquisitors. Marc Antoine found himself in a chamber, small and intimate, but as rich in frescoes, gildings, and stained glass as was every room in this house of splendours. |
| 12619 |
Messer Corner added graciously his thanks to those which his colleague had expressed, whilst old Barberigo bowed in silent dismissal. Sir Richard, breathing noisily, but with a lift of the hand and a friendly smile for the prisoner, which he thought must impress the court, was shown out by Cristofoli. |
| 12620 |
Count Pizzamano followed at once, and with his coming the proceedings became more serious. By virtue of his senatorial rank the Count was offered a seat near the secretary's pulpit, where by a turn of the head he could face at once the inquisitors or the prisoner. He was clear, and comparatively brief. |
| 12621 |
The evidence of this was overwhelming. It was true that the prisoner had assumed a false nationality and had modified his family name to suit that assumption. But he had done it in the monarchist service and to combat the evil of Jacobinism which was the worst evil that had ever confronted the Most Serene Republic. |
| 12622 |
To establish this, the prisoner's real identity and his record before coming to Venice should satisfy any reasonable men. There was, however, a great deal more. There were the real services which he had rendered to the Serenissima during his sojourn amongst them, services rendered at considerable peril to himself. |
| 12623 |
Now it has lately come to our knowledge that this demand was not made under any instructions from Paris. It was made entirely upon your own responsibility, and it bore your signature, as Lebel. And this because the French Ambassador deliberately refused to sign at your bidding a document so infamous. |
| 12624 |
That on the one hand. On the other there was the thought of Isotta, whose father's stern eyes were turned upon him to question this unaccountable hesitation in him. Though Isotta might be lost to him, yet the thought of what must be her view of him when her father reported this to her was an intolerable anguish. |
| 12625 |
At last, with a sigh, he sank back in his seat, and left it to his brethren to pursue the examination. But Gabriel merely stroked his long nose in contemplative silence, whilst the senile Barberigo yawned and then wiped the tears from his bleary eyes. Count Pizzamano continued to stare uncomprehending at the prisoner. |
| 12626 |
And if that were so, one only conclusion was possible. Yet to this conclusion, the Count, unlike the inquisitors, perceived too many obstacles. He was utterly bewildered. His thoughts swung to his daughter and to his talk with her on the night when Marc Antoine had first sought them upon his arrival. |
| 12627 |
Also there was the probability that knowledge of this would help to reconcile her to her approaching marriage with Vendramin, a matter which troubled Count Pizzamano more profoundly than he allowed it to appear. Out of this thought grew the reflection that, all things considered, perhaps it was better so. |
| 12628 |
That young man was of an effrontery that I have always associated with guilt. And I don't want for experience. It would be more merciful not to keep him lingering in suspense, for it is written that he must come to the strangler in the end. Still, since you seem set on it, we will postpone the sentence. |
| 12629 |
The Countess, looking from her husband to her daughter, supposed that a jest was passing which she did not understand. She begged to be enlightened. The Count responded clearly and definitely in a manner startling to both mother and daughter. Isotta, recovering, shook her dark head, and spoke confidently. |
| 12630 |
The inquisitors have discovered a reason, a very specious reason, that is entirely unfavourable to him. The true reason, whilst putting an entirely different appearance on it, may run it fairly close. What I most find to respect in Marc is that he is a man who will sacrifice everything to the cause he serves. |
| 12631 |
Nor would she have accepted it. The discovery that he lived was tragic. Now that to her he becomes, as it were, dead again, she may resign herself once more to this futile sacrifice to which we are pledged. That is why I say that perhaps it is best so. They loved each other, she and Marc, and he was worthy of her. |
| 12632 |
She listened to her father's theory, conveyed to her by her mother. It brought her no conviction. The only explanation that she found was one that loaded her with humiliation. When she had sought him that morning at his lodging, she had done so upon too rash an assumption that it was for her that he had come to Venice. |
| 12633 |
The war was over. Of this Venice was now aware, as she was also increasingly aware that this peace, to which for a year she had so eagerly looked forward, did not of necessity mean a cessation of hostilities towards herself. Indeed, what was to follow for the Serenissima was brutally foreshadowed on Holy Saturday. |
| 12634 |
They had also produced throughout the Venetian dominions a violent explosion of feeling against the French who were held responsible for them. This francophobia had for further stimulant the insolent rapine of which the French had been guilty towards the peasantry, seizing their crops, their cattle, and their women. |
| 12635 |
The sun of Venice had set indeed if an insolent foreign upstart could dare to be so negligent of the deference due to this august assembly. Lodovico Manin, pale and nervous, was so lost to a sense of the dignity of his high office as to offer, nevertheless, the courteous words of welcome that the forms prescribed. |
| 12636 |
Junot's utter disregard of these was like a blow in the face to every patrician present. He plucked a paper from his belt. It was the letter from Bonaparte. In a voice loud and harsh he read out its contents to them. They were in tune with his conduct. They were inspired by the same brutal, hectoring directness. |
| 12637 |
The Senate of Venice has replied with perfidy to the generosity which we have always shown. My aide de camp, who goes to you, will offer you the choice of peace or war. If you do not at once disarm and disperse the hostile peasants and arrest and surrender to us the authors of the murders, war is declared. |
| 12638 |
Domenico went off with two armed launches to take possession of the ship, and was accompanied by a galliot commanded by Captain Viscovich with a company of Slavonian soldiers. They boarded the French vessel, and after a brief sharp fight, in which Laugier was killed, made themselves master of her as night was falling. |
| 12639 |
But next morning, under the sternest representations from Lallemant, all were surrendered to the ambassador. On the day after that Domenico was commanded to attend before the Council of Ten. He was received with enthusiasm, officially praised, and encouraged to continue with the same zeal in the discharge of his duty. |
| 12640 |
Venice was full of rumours, and she was being patrolled now day and night by troops. The soldiers originally brought there to defend the State were thus being employed to repress disturbances among the restive citizens. The Lion of Saint Mark had become as a beast that crouches in expectation of the whip. |
| 12641 |
Perceiving his dark mood, Vendramin hesitated to remind him that Easter had come and gone and that the marriage date remained unappointed. He hesitated the more because the events had robbed him of a good deal of the power of insistence which he had possessed. He no longer had any influence to market. |
| 12642 |
Perhaps he had been too trusting even. What if this stiff necked Count and that cold, proud piece, his daughter, should now refuse to honour the debt they had contracted? Such a thought brought him more than a shiver of apprehension. Never had he been so debt ridden; never had his credit been so exhausted. |
| 12643 |
He dared not nowadays so much as approach that traitorous Vicomtesse, who formerly, and to his undoing, had kept him so liberally supplied. At the casinos such prestige as he had enjoyed had never recovered from the blow it had received from Mr. Melville. There was no one from whom he could today borrow a sequin. |
| 12644 |
But Lallemant had shown him the door none too politely. He had pawned or sold most of his jewellery, and now little remained him beyond his fine clothes. His state was parlous. If the Pizzamani should play him false, he did not know what would become of him. The suspense of this was not to be borne. |
| 12645 |
But this indifference gave him nothing that he could grasp. Leaning, tall and graceful, upon the parapet of the loggia, and muting his rich voice to a tone of prayer, he reminded her that a week and more was gone since that Easter for which she had promised him the happiness of the appointment of their wedding day. |
| 12646 |
His power endures only so long as the revelation dreaded by his victim is not made. So here. Isotta's fear of the revelation might be a lever to obtain his will. The revelation itself, whilst damaging to her, could nothing profit him. He stood now a little abashed under the grave, weary eyes of the Count. |
| 12647 |
On Saint Theodore's day you came to me here with a tale that for the purposes of our patriotic campaign you required a thousand ducats. You required it for distribution among some of the more necessitous in your barnabotti following, so as to ensure us their votes at the meeting of the Grand Council that was to follow. |
| 12648 |
For the moment it were bruited abroad that he was not to marry Isotta Pizzamano, his creditors would come down upon him like kites upon a carcase. He might yet succeed in so bursting the bubble of their silly pride that they would be glad to have him marry the girl, thief and liar though they called him. |
| 12649 |
From this he went on to demand the immediate release of all those detained in Venetian prisons for political offences, among whom he knew that there were many French. In the ranting theatrical cant of the politicians of his adopted country, he invoked the spirit of his murdered soldiers crying out for vengeance. |
| 12650 |
The same decree, promulgated in response to the crack of the whip of the French master, opened the prisons of those, amongst others, whose fate until that moment had lain in the hands of the Three. To many of them it must have been as a sudden transition from darkness into light, leaving them dazzled and uncertain. |
| 12651 |
Philibert had remained in the employment of the inn. At the sight of his master he almost fell on his knees in the ardour of thanksgiving. Marc Antoine, in haste, cut short this ecstasy. He carried off Philibert to his old rooms which were standing vacant. At the end of an hour he came forth again metamorphosed. |
| 12652 |
Her brow was puckered in thought as she continued to lean on Villetard's shoulder. It was then that her idly straying eyes fell on the document lying before him on his table. The signature arrested her attention. Another might not so quickly have perceived what was instantly obvious to the Vicomtesse. |
| 12653 |
Why, then, had he not denounced her to the inquisitors of state? If his having spared her was not all the reason why now she must make every effort to warn him and save him, negligent of consequences to herself, at least it was an additional spur to the one that her heart must in any case have supplied. |
| 12654 |
He had lost no time once the order of release was in his hands, for he realized the danger of delays. So as to be ready for action as soon as daylight came, he had wrested that same night from the Doge, in exchange for the note from the legation, the warrant that should open the door of Domenico's prison on Murano. |
| 12655 |
The Countess sped ahead of them, and father and sister yielded glad precedence to the mother, who in tears gathered to her bosom the son whom yesterday she had accounted doomed. She crooned over him as she had crooned over him when he was a babe, so that he was brought himself to the very brink of tears. |
| 12656 |
The announcement made a curious hush in that room, a hush which had no mystery for Marc Antoine. He was less concerned to speculate why the lady should seek him here than to be thankful for her presence. He begged leave to have her introduced, and in a complete and rather constrained silence they awaited her coming. |
| 12657 |
Convulsively she gripped the arm of her brother, who knew so well what was passing in her mind. The Vicomtesse recoiled a pace, amazement and fear in her delicate countenance. Instinctively at once she became the secret agent, on her guard. Instinctively she gathered up her weapons. Her manner changed. |
| 12658 |
At this time he not onely prayed for us, but went on with us, to remarke, as I thinke, men's carriage; and having found a sergeant neglecting his dutie and his honour at such a time (whose name I will not expresse), having chidden him, did promise to reveale him unto me, as he did after their service. |
| 12659 |
These I put on my legs. The third morning I found the same usage, the stockins for one leg onlie left me. It was time for me then, and my servants too, to imagine it must be rats that had shard my stockins so inequallie with me; and this the mistress of the house knew well enough, but would not tell it me. |
| 12660 |
The mistress sent a servant of her oune to be present at this action, which she knew concerned her. One board being bot a litle opend, a litle boy of mine thrust in his hand, and fetchd with him foure and tuentie old peeces of gold, and one angell. The servant of the house affirmed it appertained to his mistres. |
| 12661 |
It is true, that more misfortunes then one fell on me shortlie after; bot I am sure I could have better forseene them myselfe then rats or any such vermine, and yet did it not. I have heard indeed many fine stories told of rats, how they abandon houses and ships, when the first are to be burnt and the second dround. |
| 12662 |
Naturalists say they are very sagacious creatures, and I beleeve they are so; bot I shall never be of the opinion they can forsee future contingencies, which I suppose the divell himselfe can neither forknow nor fortell; these being things which the Almightie hath keepd hidden in the bosome of his divine prescience. |
| 12663 |
Of this Ardvoirlich complained to Montrose, who, probably wishing as much as possible to conciliate his new allies, treated it in rather an evasive manner. Ardvoirlich, who was a man of violent passions, having failed to receive such satisfaction as he required, challenged Macdonald to single combat. |
| 12664 |
Montrose, seeing the evils of such a feud at such a critical time, effected a sort of reconciliation between them, and forced them to shake hands in his presence; when, it was said, that Ardvoirlich, who was a very powerful man, took such a hold of Macdonald's hand as to make the blood start from his fingers. |
| 12665 |
After returning to their quarters, Ardvoirlich, who seemed still to brood over his quarrel with Macdonald, and being heated with drink, began to blame Lord Kilpont for the part he had taken in preventing his obtaining redress, and reflecting against Montrose for not allowing him what he considered proper reparation. |
| 12666 |
On the other hand, the above account, though never, that I am aware, before hinted at, has been a constant tradition in the family; and, from the comparative recent date of the transaction, and the sources from which the tradition has been derived, I have no reason to doubt its perfect authenticity. |
| 12667 |
The absence of these auxiliary troops, upon this crusade for the establishment of Presbyterianism in England, had considerably diminished the power of the Convention of Estates in Scotland, and had given rise to those agitations among the anti covenanters, which we have noticed at the beginning of this chapter. |
| 12668 |
They had not advanced above half way up the lake, and the young gentleman was pointing to his attendants the spot where their intended road turned northwards, and, leaving the verge of the loch, ascended a ravine to the right hand, when they discovered a single horseman coming down the shore, as if to meet them. |
| 12669 |
He was above the middle size, and of strength sufficient to bear with ease the weight of his weapons, offensive and defensive. His age might be forty and upwards, and his countenance was that of a resolute weather beaten veteran, who had seen many fields, and brought away in token more than one scar. |
| 12670 |
Upon this quarrel, sir, we fought in private rencontre; and as, in the perquisitions which followed, it pleased Walter Butler, our oberst, or colonel, to give the lighter punishment to his countryman, and the heavier to me, whereupon, ill stomaching such partiality, I exchanged my commission for one under the Spaniard. |
| 12671 |
Service there was none, duty there was little; and that little we might do, or leave undone, at our pleasure; an excellent retirement for a cavalier somewhat weary of field and leaguer, who had purchased with his blood as much honour as might serve his turn, and was desirous of a little ease and good living. |
| 12672 |
And hearing at this time, to my exceeding satisfaction, that there is something to be doing this summer in my way in this my dear native country, I am come hither, as they say, like a beggar to a bridal, in order to give my loving countrymen the advantage of that experience which I have acquired in foreign parts. |
| 12673 |
As the travellers approached more nearly, they discovered marks of recent additions to the defences of the place, which had been suggested, doubtless, by the insecurity of those troublesome times. Additional loop holes for musketry were struck out in different parts of the building, and of its surrounding wall. |
| 12674 |
When he arose, his first action was to draw his sword and to fly at Allan, who, with folded arms, seemed to await his onset with the most scornful indifference. Lord Menteith and his attendants interposed to preserve peace, while the Highlanders, snatching weapons from the wall, seemed prompt to increase the broil. |
| 12675 |
Lord Menteith insisted upon yielding up that which belonged to his rank, on consideration of his being in his own country, and of his near connexion with the family in which they found themselves. The two English strangers, therefore, were first ushered into the hall, where an unexpected display awaited them. |
| 12676 |
Refreshments were placed before the Children of the Mist, who took an opportunity to take the head of their victim from the plaid in which it was wrapt, placed it on the table, put a piece of bread between the lifeless jaws, bidding them do their office now, since many a good meal they had eaten at that table. |
| 12677 |
It is true he remained as thoughtful and serious as before; and long fits of silence and abstraction showed plainly that his disposition, in this respect, was in no degree altered. But at other times, he sought out the rendezvous of the youth of the clan, which he had hitherto seemed anxious to avoid. |
| 12678 |
At length these men, fierce as they were, became appalled by the inveterate animosity and audacity with which Allan sought out their recesses. As he never hesitated to encounter any odds, they concluded that he must bear a charmed life, or fight under the guardianship of some supernatural influence. |
| 12679 |
The followers of the different leaders were separately arranged and accommodated, as room and circumstances best permitted, each retaining however his henchman, who waited, close as the shadow, upon his person, to execute whatever might be required by his patron. The exterior of the castle afforded a singular scene. |
| 12680 |
Among them were the persons of the greatest consequence in the Highlands, some of them attracted by zeal for the royal cause, and many by aversion to that severe and general domination which the Marquis of Argyle, since his rising to such influence in the state, had exercised over his Highland neighbours. |
| 12681 |
Simple and rude as we may be deemed, we know something of the established rules of war, as well as of the laws of our country; nor will we arm ourselves against the general peace of Scotland, unless by the express commands of the King, and under a leader fit to command such men as are here assembled. |
| 12682 |
Other plans having in like manner failed, he stated that he found himself under the necessity of assuming a disguise to render his passage secure through the Lowlands, in which he had been kindly assisted by his kinsman of Menteith. By what means Allan M'Aulay had come to know him, he could not pretend to explain. |
| 12683 |
The distance between the galley and the beach was so short as scarce to require the assistance of the eight sturdy rowers, in bonnets, short coats, and trews, whose efforts sent the boat to the little creek in which they usually landed, before one could have conceived that it had left the side of the birling. |
| 12684 |
In the face of this rock there appeared something like the entrance of a low browed cavern, towards which the assistants were preparing to hurry our friend Dalgetty, when, shaking himself loose from them with some difficulty, he insisted upon seeing Gustavus safely landed before he proceeded one step farther. |
| 12685 |
A step or two higher up the stair showed light and a door, and an iron grated wicket led him out upon a gallery cut in the open face of the rock, extending a space of about six or eight yards, until he reached a second door, where the path re entered the rock, and which was also defended by an iron portcullis. |
| 12686 |
But a stout sentinel, who mounted guard with a Lochaber axe at the door of his apartment, gave him to understand, by very significant signs, that he was in a sort of honourable captivity. It is strange, thought the Ritt master to himself, how well these salvages understand the rules and practique of war. |
| 12687 |
Sir Duncan presented his military guest to his lady, who received his technical salutation with a stiff and silent reverence, in which it could scarce be judged whether pride or melancholy had the greater share. The churchman, to whom he was next presented, eyed him with a glance of mingled dislike and curiosity. |
| 12688 |
The meal was performed almost in Carthusian silence; for it was none of Captain Dalgetty's habits to employ his mouth in talking, while it could be more profitably occupied. Sir Duncan was absolutely silent, and the lady and churchman only occasionally exchanged a few words, spoken low, and indistinctly. |
| 12689 |
He was summoned by Lorimer at break of day, who gave him to understand, that, when he had broken his fast, for which he produced ample materials, his guide and horse were in attendance for his journey to Inverary. After complying with the hospitable hint of the chamberlain, the soldier proceeded to take horse. |
| 12690 |
The Captain rode, and his military attendants walked; but such was their activity, and so numerous the impediments which the nature of the road presented to the equestrian mode of travelling, that far from being retarded by the slowness of their pace, his difficulty was rather in keeping up with his guides. |
| 12691 |
He observed that they occasionally watched him with a sharp eye, as if they were jealous of some effort to escape; and once, as he lingered behind at crossing a brook, one of the gillies began to blow the match of his piece, giving him to understand that he would run some risk in case of an attempt to part company. |
| 12692 |
He might have marked, on the soft and gentle slope that ascends from the shores, the noble old Gothic castle, with its varied outline, embattled walls, towers, and outer and inner courts, which, so far as the picturesque is concerned, presented an aspect much more striking than the present massive and uniform mansion. |
| 12693 |
But, to confess the truth, the gallant Captain, who had eaten nothing since daybreak, was chiefly interested by the smoke which ascended from the castle chimneys, and the expectations which this seemed to warrant of his encountering an abundant stock of provant, as he was wont to call supplies of this nature. |
| 12694 |
At the gate of the castle another terrible spectacle of feudal power awaited him. Within a stockade or palisade, which seemed lately to have been added to the defences of the gate, and which was protected by two pieces of light artillery, was a small enclosure, where stood a huge block, on which lay an axe. |
| 12695 |
As Dalgetty looked on this new object of terror, his principal guide suddenly twitched him by the skirt of his jerkin, and having thus attracted his attention, winked and pointed with his finger to a pole fixed on the stockade, which supported a human head, being that, doubtless, of the late sufferer. |
| 12696 |
There was a leer on the Highlander's face, as he pointed to this ghastly spectacle, which seemed to his fellow traveller ominous of nothing good. Dalgetty dismounted from his horse at the gateway, and Gustavus was taken from him without his being permitted to attend him to the stable, according to his custom. |
| 12697 |
The Captain was left about half an hour in this place, to endure with indifference, or return with scorn, the inquisitive, and, at the same time, the inimical glances of the armed Gael, to whom his exterior and equipage were as much subject of curiosity, as his person and country seemed matter of dislike. |
| 12698 |
The opposite side of the door was secured by very strong bolts and bars, beside which hung one or two keys, designed apparently to undo fetterlocks. A narrow staircase, ascending up through the thickness of the castle wall, landed, as the Marquis had truly informed him, behind the tapestry of his private apartment. |
| 12699 |
The woman started at his voice, but immediately collected herself and returned for answer a slight inclination of the head. Dalgetty continued his way out of the town, uncertain whether he should try to seize or hire a boat and cross the lake, or plunge into the woods, and there conceal himself from pursuit. |
| 12700 |
The sole answer of the mountaineer was to lay his hand on the soldier's arm, and point backward in the direction of the wind. Dalgetty could spy nothing, for evening was closing fast, and they were at the bottom of a dark ravine. But at length he could distinctly hear at a distance the sullen toll of a large bell. |
| 12701 |
The bay of the bloodhound was now approaching nearer and nearer, and they could hear the voices of several persons who accompanied the animal, and hallooed to each other as they dispersed occasionally, either in the hurry of their advance, or in order to search more accurately the thickets as they came along. |
| 12702 |
The moon gleamed on the broken pathway, and on the projecting cliffs of rock round which it winded, its light intercepted here and there by the branches of bushes and dwarf trees, which, finding nourishment in the crevices of the rocks, in some places overshadowed the brow and ledge of the precipice. |
| 12703 |
Below, a thick copse wood lay in deep and dark shadow, somewhat resembling the billows of a half seen ocean. From the bosom of that darkness, and close to the bottom of the precipice, the hound was heard at intervals baying fearfully, sounds which were redoubled by the echoes of the woods and rocks around. |
| 12704 |
Yet such is the predominance of outward personal qualities in the eyes of a mild people, that the feats of strength and courage shown by this champion, seem to have made a stronger impression upon the minds of the Highlanders, than the military skill and chivalrous spirit of the great Marquis of Montrose. |
| 12705 |
Argyle, at the head of his Highlanders, was dogging the steps of the Irish from the west to the east, and by force, fear, or influence, had collected an army nearly sufficient to have given battle to that under Montrose. The Lowlands were also prepared, for reasons which we assigned at the beginning of this tale. |
| 12706 |
Such was the natural consequence of standing armies, which had almost everywhere, and particularly in the long German wars, superseded what may be called the natural discipline of the feudal militia. The Scottish Lowland militia, therefore, laboured under a double disadvantage when opposed to Highlanders. |
| 12707 |
The law remained the same in sixteen hundred and forty five as a hundred years before, but the race of those subjected to it had been bred up under very different feelings. They had sat in quiet under their vine and under their fig tree, and a call to battle involved a change of life as new as it was disagreeable. |
| 12708 |
The Lowlanders, who lay more remote, and out of reach of these depredations, were influenced by the exaggerated reports circulated concerning the Highlanders, whom, as totally differing in laws, language, and dress, they were induced to regard as a nation of savages, equally void of fear and of humanity. |
| 12709 |
These various prepossessions, joined to the less warlike habits of the Lowlanders, and their imperfect knowledge of the new and complicated system of discipline for which they had exchanged their natural mode of fighting, placed them at great disadvantage when opposed to the Highlander in the field of battle. |
| 12710 |
The same consideration will also serve to account for the sudden marches which Montrose was obliged to undertake, in order to recruit his army in the mountains, and for the rapid changes of fortune, by which we often find him obliged to retreat from before those enemies over whom he had recently been victorious. |
| 12711 |
These Montrose boldly attacked with half their number. The battle was fought under the walls Of the city, and the resolute valour of Montrose's followers was again successful against every disadvantage. But it was the fate of this great commander, always to gain the glory, but seldom to reap the fruits of victory. |
| 12712 |
The houses of Argyle and Montrose had been in former times, repeatedly opposed to each other in war and in politics, and the superior advantages acquired by the former, had made them the subject of envy and dislike to the neighbouring family, who, conscious of equal desert, had not been so richly rewarded. |
| 12713 |
Yet whatever temptation Montrose found to carry into effect his attack upon Argyleshire, he could not easily bring himself to renounce the splendid achievement of a descent upon the Lowlands. He held more than one council with the principal Chiefs, combating, perhaps, his own secret inclination as well as theirs. |
| 12714 |
In one moment he imagined himself displaying the royal banner from the reconquered Castle of Edinburgh, detaching assistance to a monarch whose crown depended upon his success, and receiving in requital all the advantages and preferments which could be heaped upon him whom a king delighteth to honour. |
| 12715 |
It required an effort from the Marquis to maintain his attention; but no one better knew, that where information is to be derived from the report of such agents as Dalgetty, it can only be obtained by suffering them to tell their story in their own way. Accordingly the Marquis's patience was at length rewarded. |
| 12716 |
Strict orders had been given that Argyle's advance should be watched, and that all intelligence respecting his motions should be communicated instantly to the General himself. It was a moonlight night, and Montrose, worn out by the fatigues of the day, was laid down to sleep in a miserable shieling. |
| 12717 |
Neither party would retreat an inch, while the place of those who fell (and they fell fast on both sides) was eagerly supplied by others, who thronged to the front of danger. A steam, like that which arises from a seething cauldron, rose into the thin, cold, frosty air, and hovered above the combatants. |
| 12718 |
You are not only in every respect the fittest for this most important mission, but, having no immediate command, your presence may be more easily spared than that of a Chief whose following is in the field. You know every pass and glen in the Highlands, as well as the manners and customs of every tribe. |
| 12719 |
He considered it as of the last consequence, in this moment of enthusiasm and exalted passion, to remove Allan from the camp for a few days, that he might provide, as his honour required, for the safety of those who had acted as his guides, when he trusted the Seer's quarrel with Dalgetty might be easily made up. |
| 12720 |
The remainder threw themselves into the old Castle of Inverlochy; but being without either provisions or hopes of relief, they were obliged to surrender, on condition of being suffered to return to their homes in peace. Arms, ammunition, standards, and baggage, all became the prey of the conquerors. |
| 12721 |
She started, for she had heard that he had left the camp upon a distant mission; and, however accustomed she was to the gloom of his countenance, it seemed at present to have even a darker shade than usual. He stood before her perfectly silent, and she felt the necessity of being the first to speak. |
| 12722 |
The only peaceful part of his life had been spent at Mareschal College, Aberdeen; and he had forgot the little he had learned there, except the arts of darning his own hose, and dispatching his commons with unusual celerity, both which had since been kept in good exercise by the necessity of frequent practice. |
| 12723 |
A personal mark was referred to, which was known to have been borne by the infant child of Sir Duncan, and which appeared upon the left shoulder of Annot Lyle. It was also well remembered, that when the miserable relics of the other children had been collected, those of the infant had nowhere been found. |
| 12724 |
Other circumstances of evidence, which it is unnecessary to quote, brought the fullest conviction not only to Menteith, but to the unprejudiced mind of Montrose, that in Annot Lyle, an humble dependant, distinguished only by beauty and talent, they were in future to respect the heiress of Ardenvohr. |
| 12725 |
Storms, onslaughts, massacres, the burning of suburbs, are indeed a soldier's daily work, and are justified by the necessity of the case, seeing that they are done in the course of duty; for burning of suburbs, in particular, it may be said that they are traitors and cut throats to all fortified towns. |
| 12726 |
The good natured young Earl laughed, and acquiesced; and thus having secured at least one merry face at his bridal, he put on a light and ornamented cuirass, concealed partly by a velvet coat, and partly by a broad blue silk scarf, which he wore over his shoulder, agreeably to his rank, and the fashion of the times. |
| 12727 |
Dalgetty followed them to the water's edge, reminding Menteith of the necessity of erecting a sconce on Drumsnab to cover his lady's newly acquired inheritance. They performed their voyage in safety, and Menteith was in a few weeks so well in health, as to be united to Annot in the castle of her father. |
| 12728 |
But others thought the credit of the vision sufficiently fulfilled, by the wound inflicted by the hand, and with the weapon, foretold; and all were of opinion, that the incident of the ring, with the death's head, related to the death of the bride's father, who did not survive her marriage many months. |
| 12729 |
I have the vanity to suppose, that the popularity of these Novels has shown my countrymen, and their peculiarities, in lights which were new to the Southern reader; and that many, hitherto indifferent upon the subject, have been induced to read Scottish history, from the allusions to it in these works of fiction. |
| 12730 |
I bought, and built, and planted, and was considered by myself, as by the rest of the world, in the safe possession of an easy fortune. My riches, however, like the other riches of this world, were liable to accidents, under which they were ultimately destined to make unto themselves wings, and fly away. |
| 12731 |
The author having, however rashly, committed his pledges thus largely to the hazards of trading companies, it behoved him, of course, to abide the consequences of his conduct, and, with whatever feelings, he surrendered on the instant every shred of property which he had been accustomed to call his own. |
| 12732 |
It is more than twenty years since Robert Patterson's death, which took place on the highroad near Lockerby, where he was found exhausted and expiring. The white pony, the companion of his pilgrimage, was standing by the side of its dying master the whole furnishing a scene not unfitted for the pencil. |
| 12733 |
She had known in her youth the brother who rode before the unhappy victim to the fatal altar, who, though then a mere boy, and occupied almost entirely with the gaiety of his own appearance in the bridal procession, could not but remark that the hand of his sister was moist, and cold as that of a statue. |
| 12734 |
As he charged at the battle of Preston with his clan, the Stewarts of Appin, he saw an officer of the opposite army standing alone by a battery of four cannon, of which he discharged three on the advancing Highlanders, and then drew his sword. Invernahyle rushed on him, and required him to surrender. |
| 12735 |
He could hear their muster roll called every morning, and their drums beat to quarters at night, and not a change of the sentinels escaped him. As it was suspected that he was lurking somewhere on the property, his family were closely watched, and compelled to use the utmost precaution in supplying him with food. |
| 12736 |
Yet, feeling all these advantages as a man ought to do, and must do, I may say, with truth and confidence, that I have, I think, tasted of the intoxicating cup with moderation, and that I have never, either in conversation or correspondence, encouraged discussions respecting my own literary pursuits. |
| 12737 |
I have restored what I said, which was meant to be respectful, as every objection founded in conscience is, in my opinion, entitled to be so treated. Other errors I left as I found them, it being of little consequence whether I spoke sense or nonsense in what was merely intended for the purpose of the hour. |
| 12738 |
He was sure that it was perfectly unnecessary for him to enter into any vindication of the dramatic art, which they had come here to support. This, however, he considered to be the proper time and proper occasion for him to say a few words on that love of representation which was an innate feeling in human nature. |
| 12739 |
In all ages the theatrical art had kept pace with the improvement of mankind, and with the progress of letters and the fine arts. As man has advanced from the ruder stages of society, the love of dramatic representations has increased, and all works of this nature have keen improved in character and in structure. |
| 12740 |
They would approve the gift, although they might differ in other points. Such might not approve of going to the theatre, but at least could not deny that they might give away from their superfluity what was required for the relief of the sick, the support of the aged, and the comfort of the afflicted. |
| 12741 |
If even Garrick himself were to rise from the dead, he could not act Hamlet alone. There must be generals, colonels, commanding officers, subalterns. But what are the private soldiers to do? Many have mistaken their own talents, and have been driven in early youth to try the stage, to which they are not competent. |
| 12742 |
He had little more to say, except that he sincerely hoped that the collection to day, from the number of respectable gentlemen present, would meet the views entertained by the patrons. He hoped it would do so. They should not be disheartened. Though they could not do a great deal, they might do something. |
| 12743 |
It was ungrateful and unkind that those who had sacrificed their youth to our amusement should not receive the reward due to them, but should be reduced to hard fare in their old age. We cannot think of poor Falstaff going to bed without his cup of sack, or Macbeth fed on bones as marrowless as those of Banquo. |
| 12744 |
So constant was his attachment to this infant establishment, that he chose to grace the close of the brightest theatrical life on record by the last display of his transcendent talent on the occasion of a benefit for this child of his adoption, which ever since has gone by the name of the Garrick Fund. |
| 12745 |
He was sure that the stage had in all ages a great effect on the morals and manners of the people. It was very desirable that the stage should be well regulated; and there was no criterion by which its regulation could be better determined than by the moral character and personal respectability of the performers. |
| 12746 |
The approbation of such an assembly is most gratifying to me, and might encourage feelings of vanity, were not such feelings crushed by my conviction that no man holding the situation I have so long held in Edinburgh could have failed, placed in the peculiar circumstances in which I have been placed. |
| 12747 |
The last toast reminds me of a neglect of duty. Unaccustomed to a public duty of this kind, errors in conducting the ceremonial of it may be excused, and omissions pardoned. Perhaps I have made one or two omissions in the course of the evening for which I trust you will grant me your pardon and indulgence. |
| 12748 |
He was a man of obscure origin, and, as a player, limited in his acquirements; but he was born evidently with a universal genius. His eyes glanced at all the varied aspects of life, and his fancy portrayed with equal talents the king on the throne and the clown who crackles his chestnuts at a Christmas fire. |
| 12749 |
I think, however, I was not exclusively to blame in this separation, and I believe my mother afterwards condemned herself for being too hasty. Thank God, the adversity which destroyed the means of continuing my dissipation, restored me to the affections of my surviving parent. My course of life could not last. |
| 12750 |
I put my estate out to nurse to a fat man of business, who smothered the babe he should have brought back to me in health and strength, and, in dispute with this honest gentleman, I found, like a skilful general, that my position would be most judiciously assumed by taking it up near the Abbey of Holyrood. |
| 12751 |
But yet it is inexpressible how, after a certain time had elapsed, I used to long for Sunday, which permitted me to extend my walk without limitation. During the other six days of the week I felt a sickness of heart, which, but for the speedy approach of the hebdomadal day of liberty, I could hardly have endured. |
| 12752 |
My quondam doer had ensconced himself chin deep among legal trenches, hornworks, and covered ways; but my two protectors shelled him out of his defences, and I was at length a free man, at liberty to go or stay wheresoever my mind listed. I left my lodgings as hastily as if it had been a pest house. |
| 12753 |
I was considered as a tolerable subject of speculation by some, and I could not be burdensome to any. I was therefore, according to the ordinary rule of Edinburgh hospitality, a welcome guest in several respectable families. But I found no one who could replace the loss I had sustained in my best friend and benefactor. |
| 12754 |
Some had become misers, and were as eager in saving sixpence as ever they had been in spending a guinea. Some had turned agriculturists; their talk was of oxen, and they were only fit companions for graziers. Some stuck to cards, and though no longer deep gamblers, rather played small game than sat out. |
| 12755 |
Other places I remembered, which had been described by the old huntsman as the lodge of tremendous wild cats, or the spot where tradition stated the mighty stag to have been brought to bay, or where heroes, whose might was now as much forgotten, were said to have been slain by surprise, or in battle. |
| 12756 |
And how will your conscience answer one day for carrying so many bonny lasses to barter modesty for conceit and levity at the metropolitan Vanity Fair? Consider, too, the low rate to which you reduce human intellect. I do not believe your habitual customers have their ideas more enlarged than one of your coach horses. |
| 12757 |
I felt how little my opinion was valued by those engaged in the busy turmoil, yet I exercised it with the profusion of an old lawyer retired from his profession, who thrusts himself into his neighbour's affairs, and gives advice where it is not wanted, merely under pretence of loving the crack of the whip. |
| 12758 |
The realities of the matter, like a stone plashed into a limpid fountain, had destroyed the reflection of the objects around, which, till this act of violence, lay slumbering on the crystal surface, and I tried in vain to re establish the picture which had been so rudely broken. Well, then, I would try it another way. |
| 12759 |
I went to the Canongate, and to the very portion of the Canongate in which I had formerly been immured, like the errant knight, prisoner in some enchanted castle, where spells have made the ambient air impervious to the unhappy captive, although the organs of sight encountered no obstacle to his free passage. |
| 12760 |
Then, Janet being ignorant of all indirect modes of screwing money out of her lodgers, others in the same line of life, who were sharper than the poor, simple Highland woman, were enabled to let their apartments cheaper in appearance, though the inmates usually found them twice as dear in the long run. |
| 12761 |
She had lived in the bonny glen of Tomanthoulick. Cot, an ony of the vermint had come there, her father wad hae wared a shot on them, and he could hit a buck within as mony measured yards as e'er a man of his clan, And the place here was so quiet frae them, they durst na put their nose ower the gutter. |
| 12762 |
I should have had great difficulty to convince this practical and disinterested admirer and vindicator of liberty, that arrests seldom or never were to be seen in the streets of Edinburgh; and to satisfy her of their justice and necessity would have been as difficult as to convert her to the Protestant faith. |
| 12763 |
There are some of the great moralist's papers which I cannot peruse without thinking on a second rate masquerade, where the best known and least esteemed characters in town march in as heroes, and sultans, and so forth, and, by dint of tawdry dresses, get some consideration until they are found out. |
| 12764 |
In the first place, I don't like to be hurried, and have had enough of duns in an early part of my life to make me reluctant to hear of or see one, even in the less awful shape of a printer's devil. But, secondly, a periodical paper is not easily extended in circulation beyond the quarter in which it is published. |
| 12765 |
If any reader is dull enough not to comprehend the advantages which, in point of circulation, a compact book has over a collection of fugitive numbers, let him try the range of a gun loaded with hail shot against that of the same piece charged with an equal weight of lead consolidated in a single bullet. |
| 12766 |
What is good or ill shall be mine own, or the contribution of friends to whom I may have private access. Many of my voluntary assistants might be cleverer than myself, and then I should have a brilliant article appear among my chiller effusions, like a patch of lace on a Scottish cloak of Galashiels grey. |
| 12767 |
And the result did not entirely encourage my plan of censorship. Janet did indeed seriously incline to the account of my previous life, and bestowed some Highland maledictions, more emphatic than courteous, on Christie Steele's reception of a "shentlemans in distress," and of her own mistress's house too. |
| 12768 |
But to instruct the reader in the particulars, and at the same time to indulge myself with recalling the virtues and agreeable qualities of my late friend, I will give a short sketch of her manners and habits. Mrs. Martha Bethune Baliol was a person of quality and fortune, as these are esteemed in Scotland. |
| 12769 |
That it might maintain some title to its name, I must not forget to say that the lady's dressing room exhibited a superb mirror, framed in silver filigree work; a beautiful toilette, the cover of which was of Flanders lace; and a set of boxes corresponding in materials and work to the frame of the mirror. |
| 12770 |
The answer to those who came later announced that the company was filled up for the evening, which had the double effect of making those who waited on Mrs. Bethune Baliol in this unceremonious manner punctual in observing her hour, and of adding the zest of a little difficulty to the enjoyment of the party. |
| 12771 |
Her teeth were excellent, and her eyes, although inclining to grey, were lively, laughing, and undimmed by time. A slight shade of complexion, more brilliant than her years promised, subjected my friend amongst strangers to the suspicion of having stretched her foreign habits as far as the prudent touch of the rouge. |
| 12772 |
The rest of her dress was always rather costly and distinguished, especially in the evening. A silk or satin gown of some colour becoming her age, and of a form which, though complying to a certain degree with the present fashion, had always a reference to some more distant period, was garnished with triple ruffles. |
| 12773 |
And yet her attachment to the present dynasty being very sincere, and even ardent, more especially as her family had served his late Majesty both in peace and war, she experienced a little embarrassment in reconciling her opinions respecting the exiled family with those she entertained for the present. |
| 12774 |
You have witnessed the complete change of that primeval country, and have seen a race not far removed from the earliest period of society melted down into the great mass of civilization; and that could not happen without incidents striking in themselves, and curious as chapters in the history of the human race. |
| 12775 |
The savage is always to a certain degree polite. Besides, going always armed, and having a very punctilious idea of their own gentility and consequence, they usually behaved to each other and to the Lowlanders with a good deal of formal politeness, which sometimes even procured them the character of insincerity. |
| 12776 |
The Maccallum Mhor of the day kept the word of promise, but it was only to the ear. He indeed sent his captives to Berwick, where they had an airing on the other side of the Tweed; but it was under the custody of a strong guard, by whom they were brought back to Edinburgh, and delivered to the executioner. |
| 12777 |
But considering that, belonging to the depressed and defeated faction in the state, they were compelled sometimes to use dissimulation, you must set their uniform fidelity to their friends; against their occasional falsehood to their enemies, and then you will not judge poor John Highlandman too severely. |
| 12778 |
Very often, as he observed the pleasure I took in conversing with the country people, he would manage to fix our place of rest near a cottage, where there was some old Gael whose broadsword had blazed at Falkirk or Preston, and who seemed the frail yet faithful record of times which had passed away. |
| 12779 |
This made us fix our eyes with interest on one large oak, which grew on the left hand towards the river. It seemed a tree of extraordinary magnitude and picturesque beauty, and stood just where there appeared to be a few roods of open ground lying among huge stones, which had rolled down from the mountain. |
| 12780 |
At length the promised turn of the road brought us within fifty paces of the tree which I desired to admire, and I now saw to my surprise, that there was a human habitation among the cliffs which surrounded it. It was a hut of the least dimensions, and most miserable description that I ever saw even in the Highlands. |
| 12781 |
She guessed, perhaps, that it was curiosity, arising out of her uncommon story, which induced me to intrude on her solitude; and she could not be pleased that a fate like hers had been the theme of a traveller's amusement. Yet the look with which she regarded me was one of scorn instead of embarrassment. |
| 12782 |
Whatever were occasionally the triumphs of this daring cateran, they were often exchanged for reverses; and his narrow escapes, rapid flights, and the ingenious stratagems with which he extricated himself from imminent danger, were no less remembered and admired than the exploits in which he had been successful. |
| 12783 |
The fate of MacTavish became every day more inevitable; and it was the more difficult for him to make his exertions for defence or escape, that Elspat, amid his evil days, had increased his family with an infant child, which was a considerable encumbrance upon the necessary rapidity of their motions. |
| 12784 |
At times his success in fishing and the chase was able to add something to her subsistence; but he saw no regular means of contributing to her support, unless by stooping to servile labour, which, if he himself could have endured it, would, he knew, have been like a death's wound to the pride of his mother. |
| 12785 |
At length, as she persevered in her unreasonable resentment, his patience became exhausted, and taking his gun from the chimney corner, and muttering to himself the reply which his respect for his mother prevented him from speaking aloud, he was about to leave the hut which he had but barely entered. |
| 12786 |
It was on the third day after her son had disappeared, as she sat at the door rocking herself, after the fashion of her countrywomen when in distress, or in pain, that the then unwonted circumstance occurred of a passenger being seen on the highroad above the cottage. She cast but one glance at him. |
| 12787 |
He was on horseback, so that it could not be Hamish; and Elspat cared not enough for any other being on earth to make her turn her eyes towards him a second time. The stranger, however, paused opposite to her cottage, and dismounting from his pony, led it down the steep and broken path which conducted to her door. |
| 12788 |
If she permitted her eye to glance farther into futurity, it was but to anticipate that she must be for many a day cold in the grave, with the coronach of her tribe cried duly over her, before her fair haired Hamish could, according to her calculation, die with his hand on the basket hilt of the red claymore. |
| 12789 |
With such wild notions working in her brain, the spirit of Elspat rose to its usual pitch, or, rather, to one which seemed higher. In the emphatic language of Scripture, which in that idiom does not greatly differ from her own, she arose, she washed and changed her apparel, and ate bread, and was refreshed. |
| 12790 |
Yet when she saw him again, she almost expected him at the head of a daring band, with pipes playing and banners flying, the noble tartans fluttering free in the wind, in despite of the laws which had suppressed, under severe penalties, the use of the national garb and all the appurtenances of Highland chivalry. |
| 12791 |
When the tumult of joy was appeased, Elspat became anxious to know her son's adventures since they parted, and could not help greatly censuring his rashness for traversing the hills in the Highland dress in the broad sunshine, when the penalty was so heavy, and so many red soldiers were abroad in the country. |
| 12792 |
The stature of the man was tall, and there was something shadowy in the outline, which added to his size; and his mode of motion, which rather resembled gliding than walking, impressed Hamish with superstitious fears concerning the character of the being which thus passed before him in the twilight. |
| 12793 |
Somewhat to his surprise, Elspat appeared not to combat his purpose, but she urged him to take some refreshment ere he left her for ever. He did so hastily, and in silence, thinking on the approaching separation, and scarce yet believing it would take place without a final struggle with his mother's fondness. |
| 12794 |
Upon the effects of this last concoction, as the reader doubtless has anticipated, she reckoned with security on delaying Hamish beyond the period for which his return was appointed; and she trusted to his horror for the apprehended punishment to which he was thus rendered liable, to prevent him from returning at all. |
| 12795 |
Scarce did she close her eyes from time to time, but she awakened again with a start, in the terror that her son had arisen and departed; and it was only on approaching his couch, and hearing his deep drawn and regular breathing, that she reassured herself of the security of the repose in which he was plunged. |
| 12796 |
But some obstacles occurred, from the peculiar habits and temper of this people, to the execution of his patriotic project. By nature and habit, every Highlander was accustomed to the use of arms, but at the same time totally unaccustomed to, and impatient of, the restraints imposed by discipline upon regular troops. |
| 12797 |
Such were the alarming and yet the reasonable apprehensions which began to crowd upon the unfortunate woman, after the apparent success of her ill advised stratagem. It was near evening when Hamish first awoke, and then he was far from being in the full possession either of his mental or bodily powers. |
| 12798 |
She had no hope or refuge saving in the eloquence of persuasion, of which she possessed no small share, though her total ignorance of the world as it actually existed rendered its energy unavailing. She urged her son, by every tender epithet which a parent could bestow, to take care for his own safety. |
| 12799 |
I will tell them this, and I will fling your plaid on the thorns which grow on the brink of the precipice, that they may believe my words. They will believe, and they will return to the Dun of the double crest; for though the Saxon drum can call the living to die, it cannot recall the dead to their slavish standard. |
| 12800 |
She rambled for hours, seeking rather than shunning the most dangerous paths. The precarious track through the morass, the dizzy path along the edge of the precipice or by the banks of the gulfing river, were the roads which, far from avoiding, she sought with eagerness, and traversed with reckless haste. |
| 12801 |
She opened the door of the hut gently, and entered with noiseless step. Exhausted with his sorrow and anxiety, and not entirely relieved perhaps from the influence of the powerful opiate, Hamish Bean again slept the stern, sound sleep by which the Indians are said to be overcome during the interval of their torments. |
| 12802 |
He was, therefore, bent firmly to abide his fate. But whether his intention was to yield himself peaceably into the bands of the party who should come to apprehend him, or whether he purposed, by a show of resistance, to provoke them to kill him on the spot, was a question which he could not himself have answered. |
| 12803 |
He felt the utmost compassion for a youth, who had thus fallen a victim to the extravagant and fatal fondness of a parent. But he had no excuse to plead which could rescue his unhappy recruit from the doom which military discipline and the award of a court martial denounced against him for the crime he had committed. |
| 12804 |
All which the interference of his captain in his favour could procure was that he should die a soldier's death; for there had been a purpose of executing him upon the gibbet. The worthy clergyman of Glenorquhy chanced to be at Dunbarton, in attendance upon some church courts, at the time of this catastrophe. |
| 12805 |
He visited his unfortunate parishioner in his dungeon, found him ignorant indeed, but not obstinate, and the answers which he received from him, when conversing on religious topics, were such as induced him doubly to regret that a mind naturally pure and noble should have remained unhappily so wild and uncultivated. |
| 12806 |
The fourth, or blank side of the square, was closed up by the huge and lofty precipice on which the Castle rises. About the centre of the procession, bare headed, disarmed, and with his hands bound, came the unfortunate victim of military law. He was deadly pale, but his step was firm and his eye as bright as ever. |
| 12807 |
At his last look towards Hamish, he beheld him alive and kneeling on the coffin; the few that were around him had all withdrawn. The fatal word was given, the rock rung sharp to the sound of the discharge, and Hamish, falling forward with a groan, died, it may be supposed, without almost a sense of the passing agony. |
| 12808 |
Here, among the dust of the guilty, lies a youth, whose name, had he survived the ruin of the fatal events by which he was hurried into crime, might have adorned the annals of the brave. The minister of Glenorquhy left Dunbarton immediately after he had witnessed the last scene of this melancholy catastrophe. |
| 12809 |
I am not sure whether the minister would not have endured the visitation of the Cloght dearg herself, rather than the shock of Elspat's presence, considering her crime and her misery. He drew up his horse instinctively, and stood endeavouring to collect his ideas, while a few paces brought her up to his horse's head. |
| 12810 |
The assistants agreed they should watch the bedside of the sick person by turns; but, about midnight, overcome by fatigue, (for they had walked far that morning), both of them fell fast asleep. When they awoke, which was not till after the interval of some hours, the hut was empty, and the patient gone. |
| 12811 |
Sometimes, too, the latch rattled, as if some frail and impotent hand were in vain attempting to lift it, and ever and anon they expected the entrance of their terrible patient, animated by supernatural strength, and in the company, perhaps, of some being more dreadful than herself. Morning came at length. |
| 12812 |
They sought brake, rock, and thicket in vain. Two hours after daylight, the minister himself appeared, and, on the report of the watchers, caused the country to be alarmed, and a general and exact search to be made through the whole neighbourhood of the cottage and the oak tree. But it was all in vain. |
| 12813 |
The departure of Robin Oig was an incident in the little town, in and near which he had many friends, male and female. He was a topping person in his way, transacted considerable business on his own behalf, and was entrusted by the best farmers in the Highlands, in preference to any other drover in that district. |
| 12814 |
With all the merits of a sanguine temper, our young English drover was not without his defects. He was irascible, sometimes to the verge of being quarrelsome; and perhaps not the less inclined to bring his disputes to a pugilistic decision, because he found few antagonists able to stand up to him in the boxing ring. |
| 12815 |
It chanced that the Cumbrian Squire, who had entertained some suspicions of his manager's honesty, was taking occasional measures to ascertain how far they were well founded, and had desired that any enquiries about his enclosures, with a view to occupy them for a temporary purpose, should be referred to himself. |
| 12816 |
As however, Mr. Ireby had gone the day before upon a journey of some miles distance to the northward, the bailiff chose to consider the check upon his full powers as for the time removed, and concluded that he should best consult his master's interest, and perhaps his own, in making an agreement with Harry Wakefield. |
| 12817 |
This cavalier asked one or two pertinent questions about markets and the price of stock. So Robin, seeing him a well judging civil gentleman, took the freedom to ask him whether he could let him know if there was any grass land to be let in that neighbourhood, for the temporary accommodation of his drove. |
| 12818 |
Squire Ireby set spurs to his horse, dashed up to his servant, and learning what had passed between the parties, briefly informed the English drover that his bailiff had let the ground without his authority, and that he might seek grass for his cattle wherever he would, since he was to get none there. |
| 12819 |
Mine host was content to let him turn his cattle on a piece of barren moor, at a price little less than the bailiff had asked for the disputed enclosure; and the wretchedness of the pasture, as well as the price paid for it, were set down as exaggerations of the breach of faith and friendship of his Scottish crony. |
| 12820 |
The noyis and din of this hart rinnand, as apperit, with awful and braid tindis, maid the kingis hors so effrayit, that na renzeis micht hald him, bot ran, perforce, ouir mire and mossis, away with the king. Nochtheles, the hart followit so fast, that he dang baith the king and his hors to the ground. |
| 12821 |
The abbey, endowed by successive sovereigns and many powerful nobles with munificent gifts of lands and tithes, came, in process of time, to be one of the most important of the ecclesiastical corporations of Scotland; and as early as the days of Robert Bruce, parliaments were held occasionally within its buildings. |
| 12822 |
Upon the whole of these cliffs grows a thick and interwoven wood of all kinds of trees, both timber, dwarf, and coppice; no track existed through the wilderness, but a winding path, which sometimes crept along the precipitous height, and sometimes descended in a straight pass along the margin of the water. |
| 12823 |
From behind they rise in rough, uneven, and heathy declivities, out of the wide muir before mentioned, between Loch Eitive and Loch Awe; but in front they terminate abruptly in the most frightful precipices, which form the whole side of the pass, and descend at one fall into the water which fills its trough. |
| 12824 |
For such a structure there is no place in the neighbourhood of Craiganuni but at the rocks above mentioned. In the lake and on the river the water is far too wide; but at the strait the space is not greater than might be crossed by a tall mountain pine, and the rocks on either side are formed by nature like a pier. |
| 12825 |
The men were lodged at free quarters in the houses of his tenants, and received the kindest entertainment. Till the 13th of the month the troops lived in the utmost harmony and familiarity with the people, and on the very night of the massacre the officers passed the evening at cards in Macdonald's house. |
| 12826 |
Macdonald, while in the act of rising to receive his guest, was shot dead through the back with two bullets. His wife had already dressed; but she was stripped naked by the soldiers, who tore the rings off her fingers with their teeth. The slaughter now became general, and neither age nor infirmity was spared. |
| 12827 |
Several men having been confined and threatened with corporal punishment, considerable discontent and irritation were excited among their comrades, which increased to such violence, that, when some men were confined in the guard house, a great proportion of the regiment rushed out and forcibly released the prisoners. |
| 12828 |
He deserves to be mentioned, both on account of his incorruptible fidelity, and of his testimony to the honourable principles of the people, and to their detestation of a breach of trust to a kind and honourable master, however great might be the risk, or however fatal the consequences, to the individual himself. |
| 12829 |
He looked about for a name and a subject; and the manner in which the novels were composed cannot be better illustrated than by reciting the simple narrative on which Guy Mannering was originally founded; but to which, in the progress of the work, the production ceased to bear any, even the most distant resemblance. |
| 12830 |
But with much in his horoscope which promises many blessings, there is one evil influence strongly predominant, which threatens to subject him to an unhallowed and unhappy temptation about the time when he shall attain the age of twenty one, which period, the constellations intimate, will be the crisis of his fate. |
| 12831 |
The influence of the constellations is powerful; but He who made the heavens is more powerful than all, if His aid be invoked in sincerity and truth. You ought to dedicate this boy to the immediate service of his Maker, with as much sincerity as Samuel was devoted to the worship in the Temple by his parents. |
| 12832 |
He must be educated in religious and moral principles of the strictest description. Let him not enter the world, lest he learn to partake of its follies, or perhaps of its vices. In short, preserve him as far as possible from all sin, save that of which too great a portion belongs to all the fallen race of Adam. |
| 12833 |
There is my address; you may write to me from time to time concerning the progress of the boy in religious knowledge. If he be bred up as I advise, I think it will be best that he come to my house at the time when the fatal and decisive period approaches, that is, before he has attained his twenty first year complete. |
| 12834 |
A tutor of the strictest principles was employed to superintend the youth's education; he was surrounded by domestics of the most established character, and closely watched and looked after by the anxious father himself. The years of infancy, childhood, and boyhood passed as the father could have wished. |
| 12835 |
Shades of sadness, which gradually assumed a darker character, began to over cloud the young man's temper. Tears, which seemed involuntary, broken sleep, moonlight wanderings, and a melancholy for which he could assign no reason, seemed to threaten at once his bodily health and the stability of his mind. |
| 12836 |
It seemed as if he had been carried away with an unwonted tide of pleasurable sensation, so as to forget in some degree what his father had communicated concerning the purpose of his journey. He halted at length before a respectable but solitary old mansion, to which he was directed as the abode of his father's friend. |
| 12837 |
She spoke little and it was on the most serious subjects. She played on the harpsichord at her father's command, but it was hymns with which she accompanied the instrument. At length, on a sign from the sage, she left the room, turning on the young stranger as she departed a look of inexpressible anxiety and interest. |
| 12838 |
The result of the past he found agreeable to what had hitherto befallen him, but in the important prospect of the future a singular difficulty occurred. There were two years during the course of which he could by no means obtain any exact knowledge whether the subject of the scheme would be dead or alive. |
| 12839 |
To the above anecdote, another, still more recent, may be here added. The author was lately honoured with a letter from a gentleman deeply skilled in these mysteries, who kindly undertook to calculate the nativity of the writer of Guy Mannering, who might be supposed to be friendly to the divine art which he professed. |
| 12840 |
The end of all this was an inquiry what money the farmer had about him; and an urgent request, or command, that he would make her his purse keeper, since the bairns, as she called her sons, would be soon home. The poor farmer made a virtue of necessity, told his story, and surrendered his gold to Jean's custody. |
| 12841 |
As soon as day dawned Jean roused her guest, produced his horse, which she had accommodated behind the hallan, and guided him for some miles, till he was on the highroad to Lochside. She then restored his whole property; nor could his earnest entreaties prevail on her to accept so much as a single guinea. |
| 12842 |
Many corresponding circumstances are detected by readers of which the Author did not suspect the existence. He must, however, regard it as a great compliment that, in detailing incidents purely imaginary, he has been so fortunate in approximating reality as to remind his readers of actual occurrences. |
| 12843 |
He had been seventeen times lawfully married; and, besides, such a reasonably large share of matrimonial comforts, was, after his hundredth year, the avowed father of four children by less legitimate affections. He subsisted in his extreme old age by a pension from the present Earl of Selkirk's grandfather. |
| 12844 |
A respectable farmer happened to be the next passenger, and, seeing the bonnet, alighted, took it up, and rather imprudently put it on his own head. At this instant Bargally came up with some assistants, and, recognising the bonnet, charged the farmer of Bantoberick with having robbed him, and took him into custody. |
| 12845 |
Bargally swore that it was the identical article worn by the man who robbed him; and he and others likewise deponed that they had found the accused on the spot where the crime was committed, with the bonnet on his head. The case looked gloomily for the prisoner, and the opinion of the judge seemed unfavourable. |
| 12846 |
I think the facetious Joe Miller records a case pretty much in point; where the keeper of a museum, while showing, as he said, the very sword with which Balaam was about to kill his ass, was interrupted by one of the visitors, who reminded him that Balaam was not possessed of a sword, but only wished for one. |
| 12847 |
The naturalists tell us that if you destroy the web which the spider has just made, the insect must spend many days in inactivity till he has assembled within his person the materials necessary to weave another. Now, after writing a work of imagination one feels in nearly the same exhausted state as the spider. |
| 12848 |
The remainder of the personages are very little above the cast of a common lively novel... The Edinburgh lawyer is perhaps the most original portrait; nor are the saturnalia of the Saturday evenings described without humour. The Dominie is overdrawn and inconsistent; while the young ladies present nothing above par. |
| 12849 |
Taste, in the matter of heroines, varies greatly; Sir Walter had no high opinion of his own skill in delineating them. But Julia Mannering is probably a masterly picture of a girl of that age, a girl with some silliness and more gaiety, with wit, love of banter, and, in the last resort, sense and good feeling. |
| 12850 |
He was occasionally betrayed into a deceitful hope that the end of his journey was near by the apparition of a twinkling light or two; but, as he came up, he was disappointed to find that the gleams proceeded from some of those farm houses which occasionally ornamented the surface of the extensive bog. |
| 12851 |
Our adventurer was therefore compelled, like a knight errant of old, to trust to the sagacity of his horse, which, without any demur, chose the left hand path, and seemed to proceed at a somewhat livelier pace than before, affording thereby a hope that he knew he was drawing near to his quarters for the evening. |
| 12852 |
This hope, however, was not speedily accomplished, and Mannering, whose impatience made every furlong seem three, began to think that Kippletringan was actually retreating before him in proportion to his advance. It was now very cloudy, although the stars from time to time shed a twinkling and uncertain light. |
| 12853 |
Hitherto nothing had broken the silence around him but the deep cry of the bog blitter, or bull of the bog, a large species of bittern, and the sighs of the wind as it passed along the dreary morass. To these was now joined the distant roar of the ocean, towards which the traveller seemed to be fast approaching. |
| 12854 |
Neither circumstance would have suited a dark night, a fatigued horse, and a traveller ignorant of his road. Mannering resolved, therefore, definitively to halt for the night at the first inhabited place, however poor, he might chance to reach, unless he could procure a guide to this unlucky village of Kippletringan. |
| 12855 |
A miserable hut gave him an opportunity to execute his purpose. He found out the door with no small difficulty, and for some time knocked without producing any other answer than a duet between a female and a cur dog, the latter yelping as if he would have barked his heart out, the other screaming in chorus. |
| 12856 |
His guide then dragged the weary hack along a broken and stony cart track, next over a ploughed field, then broke down a slap, as he called it, in a drystone fence, and lugged the unresisting animal through the breach, about a rood of the simple masonry giving way in the splutter with which he passed. |
| 12857 |
Finally, he led the way through a wicket into something which had still the air of an avenue, though many of the trees were felled. The roar of the ocean was now near and full, and the moon, which began to make her appearance, gleamed on a turreted and apparently a ruined mansion of considerable extent. |
| 12858 |
The danger of the father's speculations was soon seen. Deprived of Laird Lewis's personal and active superintendence, all his undertakings miscarried, and became either abortive or perilous. Without a single spark of energy to meet or repel these misfortunes, Godfrey put his faith in the activity of another. |
| 12859 |
This was his marriage with a lady who had a portion of about four thousand pounds. Nobody in the neighbourhood could conceive why she married him and endowed him with her wealth, unless because he had a tall, handsome figure, a good set of features, a genteel address, and the most perfect good humour. |
| 12860 |
He sought to assist his parents by teaching a school, and soon had plenty of scholars, but very few fees. In fact, he taught the sons of farmers for what they chose to give him, and the poor for nothing; and, to the shame of the former be it spoken, the pedagogue's gains never equalled those of a skilful ploughman. |
| 12861 |
But at this moment the door opened, and Meg Merrilies entered. Her appearance made Mannering start. She was full six feet high, wore a man's great coat over the rest of her dress, had in her hand a goodly sloethorn cudgel, and in all points of equipment, except her petticoats, seemed rather masculine than feminine. |
| 12862 |
As for Meg, she fixed her bewildered eyes upon the astrologer, overpowered by a jargon more mysterious than her own. Mannering pressed his advantage, and ran over all the hard terms of art which a tenacious memory supplied, and which, from circumstances hereafter to be noticed, had been familiar to him in early youth. |
| 12863 |
The wind had arisen, and swept before it the clouds which had formerly obscured the sky. The moon was high, and at the full, and all the lesser satellites of heaven shone forth in cloudless effulgence. The scene which their light presented to Mannering was in the highest degree unexpected and striking. |
| 12864 |
We have observed, that in the latter part of his journey our traveller approached the sea shore, without being aware how nearly. He now perceived that the ruins of Ellangowan Castle were situated upon a promontory, or projection of rock, which formed one side of a small and placid bay on the sea shore. |
| 12865 |
The Laird met him in the parlour, and, acquainting him with great glee that the boy was a fine healthy little fellow, seemed rather disposed to press further conviviality. He admitted, however, Mannering's plea of weariness, and, conducting him to his sleeping apartment, left him to repose for the evening. |
| 12866 |
The arms of the family, carved in freestone, frowned over the gateway, and the portal showed the spaces arranged by the architect for lowering the portcullis and raising the drawbridge. A rude farm gate, made of young fir trees nailed together, now formed the only safeguard of this once formidable entrance. |
| 12867 |
The remoter hills were of a sterner character, and, at still greater distance, swelled into mountains of dark heath, bordering the horizon with a screen which gave a defined and limited boundary to the cultivated country, and added at the same time the pleasing idea that it was sequestered and solitary. |
| 12868 |
On the one side ran a range of windows lofty and large, divided by carved mullions of stone, which had once lighted the great hall of the castle; on the other were various buildings of different heights and dates, yet so united as to present to the eye a certain general effect of uniformity of front. |
| 12869 |
Mannering briefly rejected his proffered civilities; and, after a surly good morning, Hatteraick retired with the gipsy to that part of the ruins from which he had first made his appearance. A very narrow staircase here went down to the beach, intended probably for the convenience of the garrison during a siege. |
| 12870 |
By this stair the couple, equally amiable in appearance and respectable by profession, descended to the sea side. The soi disant captain embarked in a small boat with two men, who appeared to wait for him, and the gipsy remained on the shore, reciting or singing, and gesticulating with great vehemence. |
| 12871 |
He detected poachers, black fishers, orchard breakers, and pigeon shooters; had the applause of the bench for his reward, and the public credit of an active magistrate. All this good had its rateable proportion of evil. Even an admitted nuisance of ancient standing should not be abated without some caution. |
| 12872 |
The decrepit dame, who travelled round the parish upon a hand barrow, circulating from house to house like a bad shilling, which every one is in haste to pass to his neighbour, she, who used to call for her bearers as loud, or louder, than a traveller demands post horses, even she shared the same disastrous fate. |
| 12873 |
And though the number of them be perhaps double to what it was formerly, by reason of this present great distress, yet in all times there have been about one hundred thousand of those vagabonds, who have lived without any regard or subjection either to the laws of the land or even those of God and nature. |
| 12874 |
In years of plenty, many thousands of them meet together in the mountains, where they feast and riot for many days; and at country weddings, markets, burials, and other the like public occasions, they are to be seen, both man and woman, perpetually drunk, cursing, blaspheming, and fighting together. |
| 12875 |
To these they added a petty trade in the coarse sorts of earthenware. Such were their ostensible means of livelihood. Each tribe had usually some fixed place of rendezvous, which they occasionally occupied and considered as their standing camp, and in the vicinity of which they generally abstained from depredation. |
| 12876 |
They had even talents and accomplishments, which made them occasionally useful and entertaining. Many cultivated music with success; and the favourite fiddler or piper of a district was often to be found in a gipsy town. They understood all out of door sports, especially otter hunting, fishing, or finding game. |
| 12877 |
They had no doubt that he determined to suffer no mendicants or strollers in the country but what resided on his own property, and practised their trade by his immediate permission, implied or expressed. Nor was Mr. Bertram in a hurry to exert his newly acquired authority at the expense of these old settlers. |
| 12878 |
These were soon accomplished, where all had the habits of wandering Tartars; and they set forth on their journey to seek new settlements, where their patrons should neither be of the quorum nor custos rotulorum. Certain qualms of feeling had deterred Ellangowan from attending in person to see his tenants expelled. |
| 12879 |
The Laird and his servants, male and female, hastened to the wood of Warroch. The tenants and cottagers in the neighbourhood lent their assistance, partly out of zeal, partly from curiosity. Boats were manned to search the sea shore, which, on the other side of the Point, rose into high and indented rocks. |
| 12880 |
The cottage was empty, but bore marks of recent habitation: there was fire on the hearth, a kettle, and some preparation for food. As he eagerly gazed around for something that might confirm his hope that his child yet lived, although in the power of those strange people, a man entered the hut. It was his old gardener. |
| 12881 |
The hands of the deceased were clenched fast, and full of turf and earth; but this also seemed equivocal. The magistrate then proceeded to the place where the corpse was first discovered, and made those who had found it give, upon the spot, a particular and detailed account of the manner in which it was lying. |
| 12882 |
At any rate it was certain that several persons must have forced their passage among the oaks, hazels, and underwood with which they were mingled; and in some places appeared traces as if a sack full of grain, a dead body, or something of that heavy and solid description, had been dragged along the ground. |
| 12883 |
Above all, here, and here only, were observed the vestiges of a child's foot; and as it could be seen nowhere else, and the hard horse track which traversed the wood of Warroch was contiguous to the spot, it was natural to think that the boy might have escaped in that direction during the confusion. |
| 12884 |
The Sheriff anxiously interrogated these men whether any boats had left the vessel. They could not say, they had seen none; but they might have put off in such a direction as placed the burning vessel, and the thick smoke which floated landward from it, between their course and the witnesses' observation. |
| 12885 |
And it was not improbable that to such brutal tempers, rendered desperate by their own circumstances, even the murder of the child, against whose father, as having become suddenly active in the prosecution of smugglers, Hatteraick was known to have uttered deep threats, would not appear a very heinous crime. |
| 12886 |
Another opinion, which was also plausibly supported, went to charge this horrid crime upon the late tenants of Derncleugh. They were known to have resented highly the conduct of the Laird of Ellangowan towards them, and to have used threatening expressions, which every one supposed them capable of carrying into effect. |
| 12887 |
Their oaths were indeed little to be trusted to; but what other evidence could be had in the circumstances? There was one remarkable fact, and only one, which arose from her examination. Her arm appeared to be slightly wounded by the cut of a sharp weapon, and was tied up with a handkerchief of Harry Bertram's. |
| 12888 |
They were so fond of me that they almost quarrelled about me. My uncle, the bishop, would have had me in orders, and offered me a living; my uncle, the merchant, would have put me into a counting house, and proposed to give me a share in the thriving concern of Mannering and Marshall, in Lombard Street. |
| 12889 |
In a moment of peculiar pressure (you know how hard we were sometimes run to obtain white faces to countenance our line of battle), a young man named Brown joined our regiment as a volunteer, and, finding the military duty more to his fancy than commerce, in which he had been engaged, remained with us as a cadet. |
| 12890 |
I was absent for some weeks upon a distant expedition; when I returned I found this young fellow established quite as the friend of the house, and habitual attendant of my wife and daughter. It was an arrangement which displeased me in many particulars, though no objection could be made to his manners or character. |
| 12891 |
But I will spare you at present, as I expect a person to speak about a purchase of property now open in this part of the country. It is a place to which I have a foolish partiality, and I hope my purchasing may be convenient to those who are parting with it, as there is a plan for buying it under the value. |
| 12892 |
The thoughts, with what different feelings he had lost sight of them so many years before, thronged upon the mind of the traveller. The landscape was the same; but how changed the feelings, hopes, and views of the spectator! Then life and love were new, and all the prospect was gilded by their rays. |
| 12893 |
The ancient chiefs who erected these enormous and massive towers to be the fortress of their race and the seat of their power, could they have dreamed the day was to come when the last of their descendants should be expelled, a ruined wanderer, from his possessions! But Nature's bounties are unaltered. |
| 12894 |
She did not trust herself to look towards the Place, although the hum of the assembled crowd must have drawn her attention in that direction. The fourth person of the group was a handsome and genteel young man, who seemed to share Miss Bertram's anxiety, and her solicitude to soothe and accommodate her parent. |
| 12895 |
A home, therefore, and an hospitable reception were secured to her, and she went on with better heart to pay the wages and receive the adieus of the few domestics of her father's family. Where there are estimable qualities on either side, this task is always affecting; the present circumstances rendered it doubly so. |
| 12896 |
Of the religious views of the matter I shall say nothing, until I find a reverend divine who shall condemn self defence in the article of life and property. If its propriety in that case be generally admitted, I suppose little distinction can be drawn between defence of person and goods and protection of reputation. |
| 12897 |
But there were other watchers than me. You may remember, Miss Mannering preferred that apartment on account of a balcony which opened from her window upon the lake. Well, sir, I heard the sash of her window thrown up, the shutters opened, and her own voice in conversation with some person who answered from below. |
| 12898 |
Perhaps even you yourself will find it most prudent to act without remonstrating, or appearing to be aware of this little anecdote. Julia is very like a certain friend of mine; she has a quick and lively imagination, and keen feelings, which are apt to exaggerate both the good and evil they find in life. |
| 12899 |
But were Julia my daughter, it is one of those sort of fellows that I should fear on her account. She is generous and romantic, and writes six sheets a week to a female correspondent; and it's a sad thing to lack a subject in such a case, either for exercise of the feelings or of the pen. Adieu, once more. |
| 12900 |
My dear mother had such dread of its being known, that I think she even suffered my father to suspect that Brown's attentions were directed towards herself, rather than permit him to discover their real object; and O, Matilda, whatever respect I owe to the memory of a deceased parent, let me do justice to a living one. |
| 12901 |
Mervyn is a different quite a different being from my father, yet he amuses and endures me. He is fat and good natured, gifted with strong shrewd sense and some powers of humour; but having been handsome, I suppose, in his youth, has still some pretension to be a beau garcon, as well as an enthusiastic agriculturist. |
| 12902 |
He deserves it, for his kindness is unceasing; and I think I have observed in his character, since I have studied it more nearly, that his harsher feelings are chiefly excited where he suspects deceit or imposition; and in that respect, perhaps, his character was formerly misunderstood by one who was dear to him. |
| 12903 |
The breaking out of the war, and the straits to which we were at first reduced, threw the army open to all young men who were disposed to embrace that mode of life; and Brown, whose genius had a strong military tendency, was the first to leave what might have been the road to wealth, and to choose that of fame. |
| 12904 |
He lays the blame of his being discomposed and out of humour to the loss of a purchase in the south west of Scotland on which he had set his heart; but I do not suspect his equanimity of being so easily thrown off its balance. His first excursion was with Mr. Mervyn's barge across the lake to the inn I have mentioned. |
| 12905 |
To propose to her to become an inmate in his family, if distant from the scenes of her youth and the few whom she called friends, would have been less delicate; but at Woodbourne she might without difficulty be induced to become the visitor of a season, without being depressed into the situation of an humble companion. |
| 12906 |
Mac Morlan naturally desired to attach to himself the patronage and countenance of a person of Mannering's wealth and consequence. He was aware, from his knowledge of mankind, that Mannering, though generous and benevolent, had the foible of expecting and exacting a minute compliance with his directions. |
| 12907 |
Dazzled with such a prospect, they never considered the risk which had once been some object of their apprehension, that his boyish and inconsiderate fancy might form an attachment to the penniless Lucy Bertram, who had nothing on earth to recommend her but a pretty face, good birth, and a most amiable disposition. |
| 12908 |
While these matters engaged the attention of the other members of the Woodbourne family, Dominie Sampson was occupied, body and soul, in the arrangement of the late bishop's library, which had been sent from Liverpool by sea, and conveyed by thirty or forty carts from the sea port at which it was landed. |
| 12909 |
He entered them in the catalogue in his best running hand, forming each letter with the accuracy of a lover writing a valentine, and placed each individually on the destined shelf with all the reverence which I have seen a lady pay to a jar of old china. With all this zeal his labours advanced slowly. |
| 12910 |
And, having thus left the principal characters of our tale in a situation which, being sufficiently comfortable to themselves, is, of course, utterly uninteresting to the reader, we take up the history of a person who has as yet only been named, and who has all the interest that uncertainty and misfortune can give. |
| 12911 |
A retired old soldier is always a graceful and respected character. He grumbles a little now and then, but then his is licensed murmuring; were a lawyer, or a physician, or a clergyman to breathe a complaint of hard luck or want of preferment, a hundred tongues would blame his own incapacity as the cause. |
| 12912 |
I think the scenery would delight you. At least it often brings to my recollection your glowing descriptions of your native country. To me it has in a great measure the charm of novelty. Of the Scottish hills, though born among them, as I have always been assured, I have but an indistinct recollection. |
| 12913 |
Dudley, on the contrary, draws delightfully, with that rapid touch which seems like magic; while I labour and botch, and make this too heavy and that too light, and produce at last a base caricature. I must stick to the flageolet, for music is the only one of the fine arts which deigns to acknowledge me. |
| 12914 |
The squire, it seems, wanted a set of drawings made up, of which Mannering had done the first four, but was interrupted by his hasty departure in his purpose of completing them. Dudley says he has seldom seen anything so masterly, though slight; and each had attached to it a short poetical description. |
| 12915 |
A large tankard of ale flanked his plate of victuals, to which he applied himself by intervals. The good woman of the house was employed in baking. The fire, as is usual in that country, was on a stone hearth, in the midst of an immensely large chimney, which had two seats extended beneath the vent. |
| 12916 |
At the request of Brown for some food, the landlady wiped with her mealy apron one corner of the deal table, placed a wooden trencher and knife and fork before the traveller, pointed to the round of beef, recommended Mr. Dinmont's good example, and finally filled a brown pitcher with her home brewed. |
| 12917 |
So much were the men of these districts in early times the objects of suspicion and dislike to their more polished neighbours, that there was, and perhaps still exists, a by law of the corporation of Newcastle prohibiting any freeman of that city to take for apprentice a native of certain of these dales. |
| 12918 |
He was dismounted, and defending himself as he best could with the butt of his heavy whip. Our traveller hastened on to his assistance; but ere he could get up a stroke had levelled the farmer with the earth, and one of the robbers, improving his victory, struck him some merciless blows on the head. |
| 12919 |
Dinmont directed his steed towards a pass where the water appeared to flow with more freedom over a harder bottom; but Dumple backed from the proposed crossing place, put his head down as if to reconnoitre the swamp more nearly, stretching forward his fore feet, and stood as fast as if he had been cut out of stone. |
| 12920 |
Some contusions on the brow and shoulders she fomented with brandy, which the patient did not permit till the medicine had paid a heavy toll to his mouth. Mrs. Dinmont then simply, but kindly, offered her assistance to Brown. He assured her he had no occasion for anything but the accommodation of a basin and towel. |
| 12921 |
Brown then resolutely declined all further conviviality for that evening, pleading his own weariness and the effects of the skirmish, being well aware that it would have availed nothing to have remonstrated with his host on the danger that excess might have occasioned to his own raw wound and bloody coxcomb. |
| 12922 |
Here the sportsmen had collected, with an apparatus which would have shocked a member of the Pychely Hunt; for, the object being the removal of a noxious and destructive animal, as well as the pleasures of the chase, poor Reynard was allowed much less fair play than when pursued in form through an open country. |
| 12923 |
The spectators on the brink of the ravine, or glen, held their greyhounds in leash in readiness to slip them at the fox as soon as the activity of the party below should force him to abandon his cover. The scene, though uncouth to the eye of a professed sportsman, had something in it wildly captivating. |
| 12924 |
The thin mists were not totally dispersed in the glen, so that it was often through their gauzy medium that the eye strove to discover the motions of the hunters below. Sometimes a breath of wind made the scene visible, the blue rill glittering as it twined itself through its rude and solitary dell. |
| 12925 |
When the sport was given up for the day, most of the sportsmen, according to the established hospitality of the country, went to dine at Charlie's Hope. During their return homeward Brown rode for a short time beside the huntsman, and asked him some questions concerning the mode in which he exercised his profession. |
| 12926 |
Without noticing the occupations of an intervening day or two, which, as they consisted of the ordinary silvan amusements of shooting and coursing, have nothing sufficiently interesting to detain the reader, we pass to one in some degree peculiar to Scotland, which may be called a sort of salmon hunting. |
| 12927 |
To add to the inconveniences of the journey, the snow began to fall pretty quickly. The postilion, however, proceeded on his journey for a good many miles without expressing doubt or hesitation. It was not until the night was completely set in that he intimated his apprehensions whether he was in the right road. |
| 12928 |
Our traveller groped along the side of the inclosure from which the light glimmered, in order to find some mode of approaching in that direction, and, after proceeding for some space, at length found a stile in the hedge, and a pathway leading into the plantation, which in that place was of great extent. |
| 12929 |
Impelled by curiosity to reconnoitre the interior of this strange place before he entered, Brown gazed in at this aperture. A scene of greater desolation could not well be imagined. There was a fire upon the floor, the smoke of which, after circling through the apartment, escaped by a hole broken in the arch above. |
| 12930 |
The interest, whatever it was, that determined her in his favour arose not from the impulse of compassion, but from some internal, and probably capricious, association of feelings, to which he had no clue. It rested, perhaps, on a fancied likeness, such as Lady Macbeth found to her father in the sleeping monarch. |
| 12931 |
Meantime the gang did not yet approach, and he was almost prompted to resume his original intention of attempting an escape from the hut, and cursed internally his own irresolution, which had consented to his being cooped up where he had neither room for resistance nor flight. Meg Merrilies seemed equally on the watch. |
| 12932 |
Had the ruffians murdered him? was the horrible doubt that crossed his mind. The agony of his attention grew yet keener, and while the villains pulled out and admired the different articles of his clothes and linen, he eagerly listened for some indication that might intimate the fate of the postilion. |
| 12933 |
But the ruffians were too much delighted with their prize, and too much busied in examining its contents, to enter into any detail concerning the manner in which they had acquired it. The portmanteau contained various articles of apparel, a pair of pistols, a leathern case with a few papers, and some money, etc. |
| 12934 |
Brown was for some time in great hopes that they would drink so deep as to render themselves insensible, when his escape would have been an easy matter. But their dangerous trade required precautions inconsistent with such unlimited indulgence, and they stopped short on this side of absolute intoxication. |
| 12935 |
Still, however, he felt stiffened and cramped, both with the cold and by the constrained and unaltered position which he had occupied all night. But, as he followed the gipsy from the door of the hut, the fresh air of the morning and the action of walking restored circulation and activity to his benumbed limbs. |
| 12936 |
Brown cast a hasty glance at the landscape around him, that he might be able again to know the spot. The little tower, of which only a single vault remained, forming the dismal apartment in which he had spent this remarkable night, was perched on the very point of a projecting rock overhanging the rivulet. |
| 12937 |
It was accessible only on one side, and that from the ravine or glen below. On the other three sides the bank was precipitous, so that Brown had on the preceding evening escaped more dangers than one; for, if he had attempted to go round the building, which was once his purpose, he must have been dashed to pieces. |
| 12938 |
A moment's recollection, however, put his suspicions to rest. It was not to be thought that the woman, who might have delivered him up to her gang when in a state totally defenceless, would have suspended her supposed treachery until he was armed and in the open air, and had so many better chances of defence or escape. |
| 12939 |
But if they experienced such, they did not long remain under its influence, for all hands went presently to work to fill up the grave; and Brown, perceiving that the task would be soon ended, thought it best to take the gipsy woman's hint and walk as fast as possible until he should gain the shelter of the plantation. |
| 12940 |
Having arrived under cover of the trees, his first thought was of the gipsy's purse. He had accepted it without hesitation, though with something like a feeling of degradation, arising from the character of the person by whom he was thus accommodated. But it relieved him from a serious though temporary embarrassment. |
| 12941 |
Brown was equally astonished and embarrassed by the circumstances in which he found himself, possessed, as he now appeared to be, of property to a much greater amount than his own, but which had been obtained in all probability by the same nefarious means through which he had himself been plundered. |
| 12942 |
He next thought of the cutlass, and his first impulse was to leave it in the plantation. But, when he considered the risk of meeting with these ruffians, he could not resolve on parting with his arms. His walking dress, though plain, had so much of a military character as suited not amiss with his having such a weapon. |
| 12943 |
Besides, I must own I think that by this time the gentleman might have given me some intimation what he was doing. Our intercourse may be an imprudent one, but it is not very complimentary to me that Mr. Vanbeest Brown should be the first to discover that such is the case, and to break off in consequence. |
| 12944 |
Now Lucy Bertram has nothing of this kindly sympathy, nothing at all, my dearest Matilda. Were I sick of a fever, she would sit up night after night to nurse me with the most unrepining patience; but with the fever of the heart, which my Matilda has soothed so often, she has no more sympathy than her old tutor. |
| 12945 |
I would have my good papa take care that he does not himself pay the usual penalty of meddling folks. I assure you, if I were Hazlewood I should look on his compliments, his bowings, his cloakings, his shawlings, and his handings with some little suspicion; and truly I think Hazlewood does so too at some odd times. |
| 12946 |
He insensibly became warm in his defence, I assure you, Matilda, he is a very clever as well as a very handsome young man, and I don't think I ever remember having seen him to the same advantage, when, behold, in the midst of our lively conversation, a very soft sigh from Miss Lucy reached my not ungratified ears. |
| 12947 |
Had he been obliged to leave the country, I am sure he would at least have written to me. Is it possible that my father can have intercepted his letters? But no, that is contrary to all his principles; I don't think he would open a letter addressed to me to night, to prevent my jumping out of window to morrow. |
| 12948 |
And to witness scenes of terror, or to contemplate them in description, is as different, my dearest Matilda, as to bend over the brink of a precipice holding by the frail tenure of a half rooted shrub, or to admire the same precipice as represented in the landscape of Salvator. But I will not anticipate my narrative. |
| 12949 |
They were revenue officers, they stated, who had seized these horses, loaded with contraband articles, at a place about three miles off. But the smugglers had been reinforced, and were now pursuing them with the avowed purpose of recovering the goods, and putting to death the officers who had presumed to do their duty. |
| 12950 |
But in truth, unless the hall door should be forced, we were in little danger; the windows being almost blocked up with cushions and pillows, and, what the Dominie most lamented, with folio volumes, brought hastily from the library, leaving only spaces through which the defenders might fire upon the assailants. |
| 12951 |
We received many messages of congratulation from the neighbouring families, and it was generally allowed that a few such instances of spirited resistance would greatly check the presumption of these lawless men. My father distributed rewards among his servants, and praised Hazlewood's courage and coolness to the skies. |
| 12952 |
There is snow on the ground, but frozen so hard that I thought Lucy and I might venture to that distance, as the footpath leading there was well beaten by the repair of those who frequented it for pastime. Hazlewood instantly offered to attend us, and we stipulated that he should take his fowling piece. |
| 12953 |
Lucy followed us close, and the servant was two or three paces behind us. Such was our position, when at once, and as if he had started out of the earth, Brown stood before us at a short turn of the road! He was very plainly, I might say coarsely, dressed, and his whole appearance had in it something wild and agitated. |
| 12954 |
I screamed between surprise and terror. Hazlewood mistook the nature of my alarm, and, when Brown advanced towards me as if to speak, commanded him haughtily to stand back, and not to alarm the lady. Brown replied, with equal asperity, he had no occasion to take lessons from him how to behave to that or any other lady. |
| 12955 |
I rather believe that Hazlewood, impressed with the idea that he belonged to the band of smugglers, and had some bad purpose in view, heard and understood him imperfectly. He snatched the gun from the servant, who had come up on a line with us, and, pointing the muzzle at Brown, commanded him to stand off at his peril. |
| 12956 |
But to Brown the consequences must be most disastrous. He is already the object of my father's resentment, and he has now incurred danger from the law of the country, as well as from the clamorous vengeance of the father of Hazlewood, who threatens to move heaven and earth against the author of his son's wound. |
| 12957 |
The suspicion and pursuit being directed towards those people must naturally facilitate Brown's escape, and I trust has ere this ensured it. But patrols of horse and foot traverse the country in all directions, and I am tortured by a thousand confused and unauthenticated rumours of arrests and discoveries. |
| 12958 |
I endeavour to strengthen my mind by arguing against the possibility of such a calamity. Alas! how soon have sorrows and fears, real as well as severe, followed the uniform and tranquil state of existence at which so lately I was disposed to repine! But I will not oppress you any longer with my complaints. |
| 12959 |
The truth was, that this respectable personage felt himself less at ease than he had expected, after his machinations put him in possession of his benefactor's estate. His reflections within doors, where so much occurred to remind him of former times, were not always the self congratulations of successful stratagem. |
| 12960 |
Glossin, while he repined internally at what he would fain have called the prejudices and prepossessions of the country, was too wise to make any open complaint. He was sensible his elevation was too recent to be immediately forgotten, and the means by which he had attained it too odious to be soon forgiven. |
| 12961 |
I'll wad my best buckskins, and they were new coft at Kirkcudbright Fair, it's been a chance job after a'. But if ye hae naething mair to say to me, I am thinking I maun gang and see my beasts fed'; and he departed accordingly. The hostler, who had accompanied him, gave evidence to the same purpose. |
| 12962 |
Then he dreamed that, after wandering long over a wild heath, he came at length to an inn, from which sounded the voice of revelry; and that when he entered the first person he met was Frank Kennedy, all smashed and gory, as he had lain on the beach at Warroch Point, but with a reeking punch bowl in his hand. |
| 12963 |
The only palliative which the ingenuity of Glossin could offer to his conscience was, that the temptation was great, and came suddenly upon him, embracing as it were the very advantages on which his mind had so long rested, and promising to relieve him from distresses which must have otherwise speedily overwhelmed him. |
| 12964 |
Galled with the anxious forebodings of a guilty conscience, Glossin now arose and looked out upon the night. The scene which we have already described in the third chapter of this story, was now covered with snow, and the brilliant, though waste, whiteness of the land gave to the sea by contrast a dark and livid tinge. |
| 12965 |
It was marked by the fragment of rock which had been precipitated from the cliff above, either with the body or after it. The mass was now encrusted with small shell fish, and tasselled with tangle and seaweed; but still its shape and substance were different from those of the other rocks which lay scattered around. |
| 12966 |
Dirk Hatteraick had not forgotten this precaution. Glossin, though a bold and hardy man, felt his heart throb and his knees knock together when he prepared to enter this den of secret iniquity, in order to hold conference with a felon, whom he justly accounted one of the most desperate and depraved of men. |
| 12967 |
He examined his pocket pistols, however, before removing the weeds and entering the cavern, which he did upon hands and knees. The passage, which at first was low and narrow, just admitting entrance to a man in a creeping posture, expanded after a few yards into a high arched vault of considerable width. |
| 12968 |
It was not without hesitation that he took this step, having the natural reluctance to face Colonel Mannering which fraud and villainy have to encounter honour and probity. But he had great confidence in his own savoir faire. His talents were naturally acute, and by no means confined to the line of his profession. |
| 12969 |
That honest gentleman, though somewhat abashed by the effect of his first introduction, advanced with confidence, and hoped he did not intrude upon the ladies. Colonel Mannering, in a very upright and stately manner, observed, that he did not know to what he was to impute the honour of a visit from Mr. Glossin. |
| 12970 |
But I find that circumstances of recent occurrence, and not easily to be forgotten, have rendered her so utterly repugnant to a personal interview with Mr. Glossin that it would be cruelty to insist upon it; and she has deputed me to receive his commands, or proposal, or, in short, whatever he may wish to say to her. |
| 12971 |
The Dominie that was the name by which my deceased friend always called that very respectable man Mr. Sampson he and I witnessed the deed. And she had full power at that time to make such a settlement, for she was in fee of the estate of Singleside even then, although it was life rented by an elder sister. |
| 12972 |
But, since her prejudices on the subject are invincible, it only remains for me to transmit her my best wishes through you, Colonel Mannering, and to express that I shall willingly give my testimony in support of that deed when I shall be called upon. I have the honour to wish you a good morning, sir. |
| 12973 |
He followed him two or three steps, and took leave of him with more politeness (though still cold and formal) than he had paid during his visit. Glossin left the house half pleased with the impression he had made, half mortified by the stern caution and proud reluctance with which he had been received. |
| 12974 |
They travelled in the Colonel's post chariot, who, knowing his companion's habits of abstraction, did not choose to lose him out of his own sight, far less to trust him on horseback, where, in all probability, a knavish stable boy might with little address have contrived to mount him with his face to the tail. |
| 12975 |
Having got out of the carriage for an instant, he saw the sepulchral monument of the slain at the distance of about a mile, and was arrested by Barnes in his progress up the Pentland Hills, having on both occasions forgot his friend, patron, and fellow traveller as completely as if he had been in the East Indies. |
| 12976 |
He then commanded Barnes to have an eye to the Dominie, and walked forth with a chairman, who was to usher him to the man of law. The period was near the end of the American war. The desire of room, of air, and of decent accommodation had not as yet made very much progress in the capital of Scotland. |
| 12977 |
Turning to the right, they entered a scale staircase, as it is called, the state of which, so far as it could be judged of by one of his senses, annoyed Mannering's delicacy not a little. When they had ascended cautiously to a considerable height, they heard a heavy rap at a door, still two stories above them. |
| 12978 |
Corresponding to this window was a borrowed light on the other side of the passage, looking into the kitchen, which had no direct communication with the free air, but received in the daytime, at second hand, such straggling and obscure light as found its way from the lane through the window opposite. |
| 12979 |
Loud and repeated bursts of laughter from different quarters of the house proved that her labours were acceptable, and not unrewarded by a generous public. With some difficulty a waiter was prevailed upon to show Colonel Mannering and Dinmont the room where their friend learned in the law held his hebdomadal carousals. |
| 12980 |
The scene which it exhibited, and particularly the attitude of the counsellor himself, the principal figure therein, struck his two clients with amazement. Mr. Pleydell was a lively, sharp looking gentleman, with a professional shrewdness in his eye, and, generally speaking, a professional formality in his manners. |
| 12981 |
His colleague and he differ, and head different parties in the kirk, about particular points of church discipline; but without for a moment losing personal regard or respect for each other, or suffering malignity to interfere in an opposition steady, constant, and apparently conscientious on both sides. |
| 12982 |
The approach looked even more dismal by daylight than on the preceding evening. The houses on each side of the lane were so close that the neighbours might have shaken hands with each other from the different sides, and occasionally the space between was traversed by wooden galleries, and thus entirely closed up. |
| 12983 |
The stair, the scale stair, was not well cleaned; and on entering the house Mannering was struck with the narrowness and meanness of the wainscotted passage. But the library, into which he was shown by an elderly, respectable looking man servant, was a complete contrast to these unpromising appearances. |
| 12984 |
The English service for the dead, one of the most beautiful and impressive parts of the ritual of the church, would have in such cases the effect of fixing the attention, and uniting the thoughts and feelings of the audience present in an exercise of devotion so peculiarly adapted to such an occasion. |
| 12985 |
But according to the Scottish custom, if there be not real feeling among the assistants, there is nothing to supply the deficiency, and exalt or rouse the attention; so that a sense of tedious form, and almost hypocritical restraint, is too apt to pervade the company assembled for the mournful solemnity. |
| 12986 |
The principal expectants, however, kept a prudent silence, indeed ashamed to express hopes which might prove fallacious; and the agent or man of business, who alone knew exactly how matters stood, maintained a countenance of mysterious importance, as if determined to preserve the full interest of anxiety and suspense. |
| 12987 |
At length they arrived at the churchyard gates, and from thence, amid the gaping of two or three dozen of idle women with infants in their arms, and accompanied by some twenty children, who ran gambolling and screaming alongside of the sable procession, they finally arrived at the burial place of the Singleside family. |
| 12988 |
Yet she was the only person present who seemed really to feel sorrow for the deceased. Mrs. Bertram had been her protectress, although from selfish motives, and her capricious tyranny was forgotten at the moment, while the tears followed each other fast down the cheeks of her frightened and friendless dependent. |
| 12989 |
The group around, in whose eyes hope alternately awakened and faded, and who were straining their apprehensions to get at the drift of the testator's meaning through the mist of technical language in which the conveyance had involved it, might have made a study for Hogarth. The deed was of an unexpected nature. |
| 12990 |
When the man of law began to get into his altitudes, and his wit, naturally shrewd and dry, became more lively and poignant, the Dominie looked upon him with that sort of surprise with which we can conceive a tame bear might regard his future associate, the monkey, on their being first introduced to each other. |
| 12991 |
But no sooner was his pen put between his fingers, his paper stretched before him, and he heard my voice, than he began to write like a scrivener; and, excepting that we were obliged to have somebody to dip his pen in the ink, for he could not see the standish, I never saw a thing scrolled more handsomely. |
| 12992 |
He did not judge it safe to go into any detail concerning the circumstances by which he had been misled, and upon the whole endeavoured to express himself with such ambiguity that, if the letter should fall into wrong hands, it would be difficult either to understand its real purport or to trace the writer. |
| 12993 |
The snow, which had been for some time waning, had given way entirely under the fresh gale of the preceding night. The more distant hills, indeed, retained their snowy mantle, but all the open country was cleared, unless where a few white patches indicated that it had been drifted to an uncommon depth. |
| 12994 |
Perhaps for who can presume to analyse that inexplicable feeling which binds the person born in a mountainous country to, his native hills perhaps some early associations, retaining their effect long after the cause was forgotten, mingled in the feelings of pleasure with which he regarded the scene before him. |
| 12995 |
I think I can manage Sir Robert. He is dull and pompous, and will be alike disposed to listen to my suggestions upon the law of the case and to assume the credit of acting upon them as his own proper motion. So I shall have the advantage of being the real magistrate, without the odium of responsibility. |
| 12996 |
The visitor, who had no internal consciousness of worth to balance that of meanness of birth, felt his inferiority, and by the depth of his bow and the obsequiousness of his demeanour showed that the Laird of Ellangowan was sunk for the time in the old and submissive habits of the quondam retainer of the law. |
| 12997 |
I am more apprehensive that, from the too favourable and indulgent manner in which I have understood that Mr. Hazlewood has been pleased to represent the business, the assault may be considered as accidental, and the injury as unintentional, so that the fellow may be immediately set at liberty to do more mischief. |
| 12998 |
O, my good Mr. Gilbert Glossin, in my time, sir, the use of swords and pistols, and such honourable arms, was reserved by the nobility and gentry to themselves, and the disputes of the vulgar were decided by the weapons which nature had given them, or by cudgels cut, broken, or hewed out of the next wood. |
| 12999 |
For if that were not your settled intention, I would take the liberty to hint that there would be less hardship in sending him to the bridewell at Portanferry, where he can be secured without public exposure, a circumstance which, on the mere chance of his story being really true, is much to be avoided. |
| 13000 |
This building adjoined to the custom house established at that little seaport, and both were situated so close to the sea beach that it was necessary to defend the back part with a large and strong rampart or bulwark of huge stones, disposed in a slope towards the surf, which often reached and broke upon them. |
| 13001 |
Apparently the expulsion had not taken place without some application of the strong hand, for one of the bed posts of a sort of tent bed was broken down, so that the tester and curtains hung forward into the middle of the narrow chamber, like the banner of a chieftain half sinking amid the confusion of a combat. |
| 13002 |
Sometimes, too, he could hear the hoarse growl of the keeper, or the shriller strain of his helpmate, almost always in the tone of discontent, anger, or insolence. At other times the large mastiff chained in the courtyard answered with furious bark the insults of the idle loiterers who made a sport of incensing him. |
| 13003 |
He found his family in their usual state, which probably, so far as Julia was concerned, would not have been the case had she learned the news of Bertram's arrest. But as, during the Colonel's absence, the two young ladies lived much retired, this circumstance fortunately had not reached Woodbourne. |
| 13004 |
This tragedy, which, considering the wild times wherein it was placed, might have some foundation in truth, was larded with many legends of superstition and diablerie, so that most of the peasants of the neighbourhood, if benighted, would rather have chosen to make a considerable circuit than pass these haunted walls. |
| 13005 |
Hae, there's a letter to him; I was gaun to send it in another way. I canna write mysell; but I hae them that will baith write and read, and ride and rin for me. Tell him the time's coming now, and the weird's dreed, and the wheel's turning. Bid him look at the stars as he has looked at them before. |
| 13006 |
Meg in the meanwhile went to a great black cauldron that was boiling on a fire on the floor, and, lifting the lid, an odour was diffused through the vault which, if the vapours of a witch's cauldron could in aught be trusted, promised better things than the hell broth which such vessels are usually supposed to contain. |
| 13007 |
Sampson, afraid of eye of newt, and toe of frog, tigers' chaudrons, and so forth, had determined not to venture; but the smell of the stew was fast melting his obstinacy, which flowed from his chops as it were in streams of water, and the witch's threats decided him to feed. Hunger and fear are excellent casuists. |
| 13008 |
But these various interruptions consumed the morning. Hazlewood got on horseback at least three hours later than he intended, and, cursing fine ladies, pointers, puppies, and turnpike acts of parliament, saw himself detained beyond the time when he could with propriety intrude upon the family at Woodbourne. |
| 13009 |
She seemed acting under the influence of an imagination rather strongly excited than deranged; and it is wonderful how palpably the difference in such cases is impressed upon the mind of the auditor. This may account for the attention with which her strange and mysterious hints were heard and acted upon. |
| 13010 |
Thirty dragoon horses stood under a shed near the offices, with their bridles linked together. Three or four soldiers attended as a guard, while others stamped up and down with their long broadswords and heavy boots in front of the house. Hazlewood asked a non commissioned officer from whence they came. |
| 13011 |
And under this strong belief and conviction I must exert my authority as sheriff and chief magistrate of police to order the whole, or greater part of them, back again. I regret much that by my accidental absence a good deal of delay has already taken place, and we shall not now reach Portanferry until it is late. |
| 13012 |
We, sir, can protect ourselves, sir. But you will have the goodness to observe, sir, that you are acting on your own proper risk, sir, and peril, sir, and responsibility, sir, if anything shall happen or befall to Hazlewood House, sir, or the inhabitants, sir, or to the furniture and paintings, sir. |
| 13013 |
But Bertram's first heavy sleep passed away long before midnight, nor could he again recover that state of oblivion. Added to the uncertain and uncomfortable state of his mind, his body felt feverish and oppressed. This was chiefly owing to the close and confined air of the small apartment in which they slept. |
| 13014 |
The liberated prisoners, celebrating their deliverance with the wildest yells of joy, mingled among the mob which had given them freedom. In the midst of the confusion that ensued three or four of the principal smugglers hurried to the apartment of Bertram with lighted torches, and armed with cutlasses and pistols. |
| 13015 |
We must now return to Woodbourne, which, it may be remembered, we left just after the Colonel had given some directions to his confidential servant. When he returned, his absence of mind, and an unusual expression of thought and anxiety upon his features, struck the ladies, whom he joined in the drawing room. |
| 13016 |
The sound of wheels became now very perceptible, and Pleydell, as if he had reserved all his curiosity till that moment, ran out to the hall. The Colonel rung for Barnes to desire that the persons who came in the carriage might be shown into a separate room, being altogether uncertain whom it might contain. |
| 13017 |
Mannering was struggling between his high sense of courtesy and hospitality, his joy at finding himself relieved from the guilt of having shed life in a private quarrel, and the former feelings of dislike and prejudice, which revived in his haughty mind at the sight of the object against whom he had entertained them. |
| 13018 |
At the hour which he had appointed the preceding evening the indefatigable lawyer was seated by a good fire and a pair of wax candles, with a velvet cap on his head and a quilted silk nightgown on his person, busy arranging his memoranda of proofs and indications concerning the murder of Frank Kennedy. |
| 13019 |
Mannering could not bring himself to acknowledge the astrological prediction; and Bertram was, from motives which may be easily conceived, silent respecting his love for Julia. In other respects their intercourse was frank and grateful to both, and had latterly, upon the Colonel's part, even an approach to cordiality. |
| 13020 |
At present, however, this intimation fell upon heedless ears, for the brother and sister were too deeply engaged in asking and receiving intelligence concerning their former fortunes to attend much to the worthy Dominie. When Colonel Mannering left Bertram he went to Julia's dressing room and dismissed her attendant. |
| 13021 |
He glanced at some passages of the letters with an unsteady eye and an agitated mind; his stoicism, however, came in time to his aid that philosophy which, rooted in pride, yet frequently bears the fruits of virtue. He returned towards his daughter with as firm an air as his feelings permitted him to assume. |
| 13022 |
Julia dared not raise her voice in asking Bertram if he chose another cup of tea. Bertram felt embarrassed while eating his toast and butter under the eye of Mannering. Lucy, while she indulged to the uttermost her affection for her recovered brother, began to think of the quarrel betwixt him and Hazlewood. |
| 13023 |
There are these gipsies; but then, alas! they are almost infamous in the eye of law, scarce capable of bearing evidence, and Meg Merrilies utterly so, by the various accounts which she formerly gave of the matter, and her impudent denial of all knowledge of the fact when I myself examined her respecting it. |
| 13024 |
Under that condition I will take your bail; though I must say an obliging, well disposed, and civil neighbour of mine, who was himself bred to the law, gave me a hint or caution this morning against doing so. It was from him I learned that this youth was liberated and had come abroad, or rather had broken prison. |
| 13025 |
Bertram and Dinmont, both tall men, apparently scarce equalled her in height, owing to her longer dress and high head gear. She proceeded straight across the common, without turning aside to the winding path by which passengers avoided the inequalities and little rills that traversed it in different directions. |
| 13026 |
The steel heart of the bold yeoman had well nigh given way, and he suppressed with difficulty a shout, which, in the defenceless posture and situation which they then occupied, might have cost all their lives. He contented himself, however, with extricating his foot from the grasp of this unexpected follower. |
| 13027 |
The flame, as it rose and fell, while it displayed the strong, muscular, and broad chested frame of the ruffian, glanced also upon two brace of pistols in his belt, and upon the hilt of his cutlass: it was not to be doubted that his desperation was commensurate with his personal strength and means of resistance. |
| 13028 |
That younker of Ellangowan has been a rock ahead to me all my life! And now, with Glossin's cursed contrivance, my crew have been cut off, my boats destroyed, and I daresay the lugger's taken; there were not men enough left on board to work her, far less to fight her a dredge boat might have taken her. |
| 13029 |
As he was known to several of the principal farmers present, his testimony afforded an additional motive to the general enthusiasm. In short, it was one of those moments of intense feeling when the frost of the Scottish people melts like a snow wreath, and the dissolving torrent carries dam and dyke before it. |
| 13030 |
Hazlewood was the first to compliment Bertram upon the near prospect of his being restored to his name and rank in society. The people around, who now learned from Jabos that Bertram was the person who had wounded him, were struck with his generosity, and added his name to Bertram's in their exulting acclamations. |
| 13031 |
At length Mr. Hazlewood, apprehensive that the popular ferment might take a direction towards the prisoner, directed he should be taken to the post chaise, and so removed to the town of Kippletringan, to be at Mr. Mac Morlan's disposal; at the same time he sent an express to warn that gentleman of what had happened. |
| 13032 |
He gazed in silence for some minutes upon the body of Meg Merrilies, as it lay before him, with the features sharpened by death, yet still retaining the stern and energetic character which had maintained in life her superiority as the wild chieftainess of the lawless people amongst whom she was born. |
| 13033 |
The young soldier dried the tears which involuntarily rose on viewing this wreck of one who might be said to have died a victim to her fidelity to his person and family. He then took the clergyman's hand and asked solemnly if she appeared able to give that attention to his devotions which befitted a departing person. |
| 13034 |
That worthy gentleman had, by dint of watching and eavesdropping, ascertained that he was not mentioned by name in Meg Merrilies's dying declaration a circumstance certainly not owing to any favourable disposition towards him, but to the delay of taking her regular examination, and to the rapid approach of death. |
| 13035 |
They were, you remember, resurrection women, who had promised to procure a child's body for some young surgeons. Being upon honour to their employers, rather than disappoint the evening lecture of the students, they stole a live child, murdered it, and sold the body for three shillings and sixpence. |
| 13036 |
He concluded, that his aunt had immediately declared that she would do all that lay in her power to help young Ellangowan to his right, even if it should be by informing against Dirk Hatteraick; and that many of her people assisted her besides himself, from a belief that she was gifted with supernatural inspirations. |
| 13037 |
With the same purpose, he understood his aunt had given to Bertram the treasure of the tribe, of which she had the custody. Three or four gipsies, by the express command of Meg Merrilies, mingled in the crowd when the custom house was attacked, for the purpose of liberating Bertram, which he had himself effected. |
| 13038 |
Upon inspecting this paper, Colonel Mannering instantly admitted it was his own composition; and afforded the strongest and most satisfactory evidence that the possessor of it must necessarily be the young heir of Ellangowan, by avowing his having first appeared in that country in the character of an astrologer. |
| 13039 |
My character but if I get off with life and liberty I'll win money yet and varnish that over again. I knew not of the gauger's job until the rascal had done the deed, and, though I had some advantage by the contraband, that is no felony. But the kidnapping of the boy there they touch me closer. Let me see. |
| 13040 |
In the large dark cell into which he was thus introduced Glossin's feeble light for some time enabled him to discover nothing. At length he could dimly distinguish the pallet bed stretched on the floor beside the great iron bar which traversed the room, and on that pallet reposed the figure of a man. |
| 13041 |
Great was his surprise, and even horror, to observe Glossin's body lying doubled across the iron bar, in a posture that excluded all idea of his being alive. Hatteraick was quietly stretched upon his pallet within a yard of his victim. On lifting Glossin it was found he had been dead for some hours. |
| 13042 |
The spine where it joins the skull had received severe injury by his first fall. There were distinct marks of strangulation about the throat, which corresponded with the blackened state of his face. The head was turned backward over the shoulder, as if the neck had been wrung round with desperate violence. |
| 13043 |
His story, however, found faith with the worthy Mr. Skriegh and other lovers of the marvellous, who still hold that the Enemy of Mankind brought these two wretches together upon that night by supernatural interference, that they might fill up the cup of their guilt and receive its meed by murder and suicide. |
| 13044 |
The poor Dominie's brain was almost turned with joy on returning to his old habitation. He posted upstairs, taking three steps at once, to a little shabby attic, his cell and dormitory in former days, and which the possession of his much superior apartment at Woodbourne had never banished from his memory. |
| 13045 |
Mr. Pleydell had left the party for some time; but he returned, according to promise, during the Christmas recess of the courts. He drove up to Ellangowan when all the family were abroad but the Colonel, who was busy with plans of buildings and pleasure grounds, in which he was well skilled, and took great delight. |
| 13046 |
I have endeavoured to describe her as at once a high minded sovereign, and a female of passionate feelings, hesitating betwixt the sense of her rank and the duty she owed her subjects on the one hand, and on the other her attachment to a nobleman, who, in external qualifications at least, amply merited her favour. |
| 13047 |
It was in the courtyard of the inn which called this honest fellow landlord, that a traveller alighted in the close of the evening, gave his horse, which seemed to have made a long journey, to the hostler, and made some inquiry, which produced the following dialogue betwixt the myrmidons of the bonny Black Bear. |
| 13048 |
Giles Gosling himself was somewhat scandalized at the obstreperous nature of their mirth, especially as he involuntarily felt some respect for his unknown guest. He paused, therefore, at some distance from the table occupied by these noisy revellers, and began to make a sort of apology for their license. |
| 13049 |
He talks of breaking parks, and taking the highway, in such fashion that you would think he haunted every night betwixt Hounslow and London; when in fact he may be found sound asleep on his feather bed, with a candle placed beside him on one side, and a Bible on the other, to fright away the goblins. |
| 13050 |
And for his wager, I caution you as a friend to have little to do with that, or indeed with aught that Mike proposes. Wherefore, I counsel you to a warm breakfast upon a culiss, which shall restore the tone of the stomach; and let my nephew and Master Goldthred swagger about their wager as they list. |
| 13051 |
But had he been the Anthony I once knew him, these sturdy oaks had long since become the property of some honest woodmonger, and the manor close here had looked lighter at midnight than it now does at noon, while Foster played fast and loose with the price, in some cunning corner in the purlieus of Whitefriars. |
| 13052 |
Yes, such a thing as thou wouldst make of me should wear a book at his girdle instead of a poniard, and might just be suspected of manhood enough to squire a proud dame citizen to the lecture at Saint Antonlin's, and quarrel in her cause with any flat capped threadmaker that would take the wall of her. |
| 13053 |
He looked round, and in the beautiful and richly attired female who entered at that instant by a side door he recognized the object of his search. The first impulse arising from this discovery urged him to conceal his face with the collar of his cloak, until he should find a favourable moment of making himself known. |
| 13054 |
Remember, the manor and tithes are rated at the clear annual value of seventy nine pounds five shillings and fivepence halfpenny, besides the value of the wood. Come, come, thou must be conscionable; great and secret service may deserve both this and a better thing. And now let thy knave come and pluck off my boots. |
| 13055 |
Since the hour that my policy made so perilous a slip, I cannot look at her without fear, and hate, and fondness, so strangely mingled, that I know not whether, were it at my choice, I would rather possess or ruin her. But she must not leave this retreat until I am assured on what terms we are to stand. |
| 13056 |
The walls, lately so bare and ghastly, were now clothed with hangings of sky blue velvet and silver; the chairs were of ebony, richly carved, with cushions corresponding to the hangings; and the place of the silver sconces which enlightened the ante chamber was supplied by a huge chandelier of the same precious metal. |
| 13057 |
The sleeping chamber belonging to this splendid suite of apartments was decorated in a taste less showy, but not less rich, than had been displayed in the others. Two silver lamps, fed with perfumed oil, diffused at once a delicious odour and a trembling twilight seeming shimmer through the quiet apartment. |
| 13058 |
The milk white pearls of the necklace which she wore, the same which she had just received as a true love token from her husband, were excelled in purity by her teeth, and by the colour of her skin, saving where the blush of pleasure and self satisfaction had somewhat stained the neck with a shade of light crimson. |
| 13059 |
Be merry, Janet; the night wears on, and my lord must soon arrive. Call thy father hither, and call Varney also. I cherish resentment against neither; and though I may have some room to be displeased with both, it shall be their own fault if ever a complaint against them reaches the Earl through my means. |
| 13060 |
Varney, who, in right of his gentle blood, had pressed into the room before Anthony Foster, knew better what to say than he, and said it with more assurance and a better grace. The Countess greeted him indeed with an appearance of cordiality, which seemed a complete amnesty for whatever she might have to complain of. |
| 13061 |
Janet alone stood ready to wait upon the company; and, indeed, the board was so well supplied with all that could be desired, that little or no assistance was necessary. The Earl and his lady occupied the upper end of the table, and Varney and Foster sat beneath the salt, as was the custom with inferiors. |
| 13062 |
Early on the ensuing morning, Varney acted as the Earl's chamberlain as well as his master of horse, though the latter was his proper office in that magnificent household, where knights and gentlemen of good descent were well contented to hold such menial situations, as nobles themselves held in that of the sovereign. |
| 13063 |
He found her in a white cymar of silk lined with furs, her little feet unstockinged and hastily thrust into slippers; her unbraided hair escaping from under her midnight coif, with little array but her own loveliness, rather augmented than diminished by the grief which she felt at the approaching moment of separation. |
| 13064 |
Strange reports are abroad concerning my way of life. The congregation look cold on me, and when Master Holdforth spoke of hypocrites being like a whited sepulchre, which within was full of dead men's bones, methought he looked full at me. The Romish was a comfortable faith; Lambourne spoke true in that. |
| 13065 |
My grandsire joined Simnel's standard, and was taken fighting desperately at Stoke, where most of the leaders of that unhappy army were slain in their harness. The good knight to whom he rendered himself, Sir Roger Robsart, protected him from the immediate vengeance of the king, and dismissed him without ransom. |
| 13066 |
The grotesque figure of the smith, and the ugly but whimsical features of the boy, seen by the gloomy and imperfect light of the charcoal fire and the dying lamp, accorded very well with all this mystical apparatus, and in that age of superstition would have made some impression on the courage of most men. |
| 13067 |
In a very few minutes he had made so great an alteration in his original appearance, by change of dress, trimming his beard and hair, and so forth, that Tressilian could not help remarking that he thought he would stand in little need of a protector, since none of his old acquaintance were likely to recognize him. |
| 13068 |
They turned to gaze in the direction from which the thunder clap was heard, and beheld, just over the spot they had left so recently, a huge pillar of dark smoke rising high into the clear, blue atmosphere. "My habitation is gone to wreck," said Wayland, immediately conjecturing the cause of the explosion. |
| 13069 |
The curate, a grey headed clergyman, who had been a confessor in the days of Queen Mary, sat with a book in his hand in another recess in the apartment. He, too, signed a mournful greeting to Tressilian, and laid his book aside, to watch the effect his appearance should produce on the afflicted old man. |
| 13070 |
But wert thou not better apply to the Earl of Leicester, in the first place, for justice on his servant? If he grants it, thou dost save the risk of making thyself a powerful adversary, which will certainly chance if, in the first instance, you accuse his master of the horse and prime favourite before the Queen. |
| 13071 |
I warrant me, my fame haunts the Vale of the Whitehorse long after my body is rotten; and that many a lout ties up his horse, lays down his silver groat, and pipes like a sailor whistling in a calm for Wayland Smith to come and shoe his tit for him. But the horse will catch the founders ere the smith answers the call. |
| 13072 |
This he offered to Wayland, his manner conveying the deepest devotion towards him, though an avaricious and jealous expression, which seemed to grudge every grain of what his customer was about to possess himself, disputed ground in his countenance with the obsequious deference which he desired it should exhibit. |
| 13073 |
Why, yonder wretched skeleton hath wealth sufficient to pave the whole lane he lives in with dollars, and scarce miss them out of his own iron chest; yet he goes mad after the philosopher's stone. And besides, he would have cheated a poor serving man, as he thought me at first, with trash that was not worth a penny. |
| 13074 |
As she hesitated to pass on, the gallant, throwing his cloak from his shoulders, laid it on the miry spot, so as to ensure her stepping over it dry shod. Elizabeth looked at the young man, who accompanied this act of devoted courtesy with a profound reverence, and a blush that overspread his whole countenance. |
| 13075 |
He knew, perhaps, better than almost any of the courtiers who surrounded her, how to mingle the devotion claimed by the Queen with the gallantry due to her personal beauty; and in this, his first attempt to unite them, he succeeded so well as at once to gratify Elizabeth's personal vanity and her love of power. |
| 13076 |
The Earl's utmost dispatch only enabled him to meet the Queen as she entered the great hall, and he at once perceived there was a cloud on her brow. Her jealous eye had noticed the martial array of armed gentlemen and retainers with which the mansion house was filled, and her first words expressed her disapprobation. |
| 13077 |
And never did he display to more advantage his powers as a politician of the first rank, or his parts as an accomplished courtier. It chanced that in that day's council matters were agitated touching the affairs of the unfortunate Mary, the seventh year of whose captivity in England was now in doleful currency. |
| 13078 |
The whole court considered the issue of this day's audience, expected with so much doubt and anxiety, as a decisive triumph on the part of Leicester, and felt assured that the orb of his rival satellite, if not altogether obscured by his lustre, must revolve hereafter in a dimmer and more distant sphere. |
| 13079 |
Raleigh rose to retire, and Tressilian would have been so ill timed in his courtesy as to offer to relinquish his own place to his friend, had not the acute glance of Raleigh himself, who seemed not in his native element, made him sensible that so ready a disclamation of the royal favour might be misinterpreted. |
| 13080 |
He sat silent, therefore, whilst Raleigh, with a profound bow, and a look of the deepest humiliation, was about to quit his place. A noble courtier, the gallant Lord Willoughby, read, as he thought, something in the Queen's face which seemed to pity Raleigh's real or assumed semblance of mortification. |
| 13081 |
And touching this Shakespeare, we think there is that in his plays that is worth twenty Bear gardens; and that this new undertaking of his Chronicles, as he calls them, may entertain, with honest mirth, mingled with useful instruction, not only our subjects, but even the generation which may succeed to us. |
| 13082 |
Certainly her actions and words combined to express a degree of favour which, even in his proudest day he had not till then attained. His rival, indeed, was repeatedly graced by the Queen's notice; but it was in manner that seemed to flow less from spontaneous inclination than as extorted by a sense of his merit. |
| 13083 |
Raleigh returned the kindest thanks to them all, disowning, with becoming modesty, that one day's fair reception made a favourite, any more than one swallow a summer. But he observed that Blount did not join in the general congratulation, and, somewhat hurt at his apparent unkindness, he plainly asked him the reason. |
| 13084 |
He spoke not a word while his chamberlain exchanged his rich court mantle for a furred night robe, and when this officer signified that Master Varney desired to speak with his lordship, he replied only by a sullen nod. Varney, however, entered, accepting this signal as a permission, and the chamberlain withdrew. |
| 13085 |
The foot of an aged man was heard slowly descending the narrow stair, and Alasco entered the Earl's apartment. The astrologer was a little man, and seemed much advanced in age, for his beard was long and white, and reached over his black doublet down to his silken girdle. His hair was of the same venerable hue. |
| 13086 |
But his eyebrows were as dark as the keen and piercing black eyes which they shaded, and this peculiarity gave a wild and singular cast to the physiognomy of the old man. His cheek was still fresh and ruddy, and the eyes we have mentioned resembled those of a rat in acuteness and even fierceness of expression. |
| 13087 |
In that turret I have spent the last twenty four hours under the key which has been in your own custody. The hours of darkness I have spent in gazing on the heavenly bodies with these dim eyes, and during those of light I have toiled this aged brain to complete the calculation arising from their combinations. |
| 13088 |
There had been a fair in the neighbourhood, and the cutting mercer of Abingdon, with some of the other personages whom the reader has already been made acquainted with, as friends and customers of Giles Gosling, had already formed their wonted circle around the evening fire, and were talking over the news of the day. |
| 13089 |
So they are fast for an hour or so. Now, if you will don your pack, which will be your best excuse, you may, perchance, win the ear of the old servant, being assured of the master's absence, to let you try to get some custom of the lady; and then you may learn more of her condition than I or any other can tell you. |
| 13090 |
Amid such a tide of prosperity, this minion of fortune and of the Queen's favour was probably the most unhappy man in the realm which seemed at his devotion. He had the Fairy King's superiority over his friends and dependants, and saw much which they could not. The character of his mistress was intimately known to him. |
| 13091 |
Leicester was like a pilot possessed of a chart which points out to him all the peculiarities of his navigation, but which exhibits so many shoals, breakers, and reefs of rocks, that his anxious eye reaps little more from observing them than to be convinced that his final escape can be little else than miraculous. |
| 13092 |
Of the difficulties which surrounded his power, "too great to keep or to resign," Leicester was fully sensible; and as he looked anxiously round for the means of maintaining himself in his precarious situation, and sometimes contemplated those of descending from it in safety, he saw but little hope of either. |
| 13093 |
Anthony Foster paused before the door, which was scrupulously secured within, and again showed a marked hesitation to disturb the sage in his operations. But Varney, less scrupulous, roused him by knocking and voice, until at length, slowly and reluctantly, the inmate of the apartment undid the door. |
| 13094 |
Believe me, moreover, who swear by nothing but by my own word, that if you be not conformable, there is no hope, no, not a glimpse of hope, that this thy leasehold may be transmuted into a copyhold. Thus, Alasco will leave your pewter artillery untransmigrated, and I, honest Anthony, will still have thee for my tenant. |
| 13095 |
Janet commanded her own motions during the daytime, and had a master key which opened the postern door of the park, so that she could go to the village at pleasure, either upon the household affairs, which were entirely confided to her management, or to attend her devotions at the meeting house of her sect. |
| 13096 |
The inconvenience and difficulty attending these interruptions, the breathless haste of the first part of their route, the exhausting sensations of hope and fear, so much affected the Countess's strength, that Janet was forced to propose that they should pause for a few minutes to recover breath and spirits. |
| 13097 |
They set out accordingly, and performed the second part of their journey with more deliberation, and of course more easily, than the first hasty commencement. This gave them leisure for reflection; and Janet now, for the first time, ventured to ask her lady which way she proposed to direct her flight. |
| 13098 |
And thus, about noon, after the Countess had been refreshed by the sound repose of several hours, they resumed their journey, with the purpose of making the best of their way to Kenilworth, by Coventry and Warwick. They were not, however, destined to travel far without meeting some cause of apprehension. |
| 13099 |
Notwithstanding this symptom of decaying strength, she pushed on her palfrey so briskly that they joined the party in the bottom of the valley ere Varney appeared on the top of the gentle eminence which they had descended. They found the company to which they meant to associate themselves in great disorder. |
| 13100 |
Nature had given that arch youngster a prying cast of disposition, which matched admirably with his sharp wit; the former inducing him to plant himself as a spy on other people's affairs, and the latter quality leading him perpetually to interfere, after he had made himself master of that which concerned him not. |
| 13101 |
He found her dressed, and ready for resuming her journey, but with a paleness of countenance which alarmed him for her health. She intimated her desire that the horses might be got instantly ready, and resisted with impatience her guide's request that she would take some refreshment before setting forward. |
| 13102 |
I only wish to know, that I may guide myself by your wishes. The whole country is afloat, and streaming towards the Castle of Kenilworth. It will be difficult travelling thither, even if we had the necessary passports for safe conduct and free admittance; unknown and unfriended, we may come by mishap. |
| 13103 |
Here were, besides, players and mummers, jugglers and showmen, of every description, traversing in joyous bands the paths which led to the Palace of Princely Pleasure; for so the travelling minstrels had termed Kenilworth in the songs which already had come forth in anticipation of the revels which were there expected. |
| 13104 |
Here the Countess and Wayland found the gate at the end of this avenue, which opened on the Warwick road, guarded by a body of the Queen's mounted yeomen of the guard, armed in corselets richly carved and gilded, and wearing morions instead of bonnets, having their carabines resting with the butt end on their thighs. |
| 13105 |
The porter, however, stopped his progress, bidding him, in a thundering voice, "Stand back!" and enforcing his injunction by heaving up his steel shod mace, and dashing it on the ground before Wayland's horse's nose with such vehemence that the pavement flashed fire, and the archway rang to the clamour. |
| 13106 |
He learned, however, by indirect questions, that in all probability Tressilian must have been one of a large party of gentlemen in attendance on the Earl of Sussex, who had accompanied their patron that morning to Kenilworth, when Leicester had received them with marks of the most formal respect and distinction. |
| 13107 |
The intelligence released for a time those who were upon duty, in the immediate expectation of the Queen's appearance, and ready to play their part in the solemnities with which it was to be accompanied; and Wayland, seeing several horsemen enter the Castle, was not without hopes that Tressilian might be of the number. |
| 13108 |
Thus stationed, nobody could enter or leave the Castle without his observation, and most anxiously did he study the garb and countenance of every horseman, as, passing from under the opposite Gallery tower, they paced slowly, or curveted, along the tilt yard, and approached the entrance of the base court. |
| 13109 |
This was Dickie Sludge, or Flibbertigibbet, who, like the imp whose name he bore, and whom he had been accoutred in order to resemble, seemed to be ever at the ear of those who thought least of him. Whatever were Wayland's internal feelings, he judged it necessary to express pleasure at their unexpected meeting. |
| 13110 |
The astonishment of the Countess was scarce less than that of Tressilian, although it was of shorter duration, because she had heard from Wayland that he was in the Castle. She had started up at his first entrance, and now stood facing him, the paleness of her cheeks having given way to a deep blush. |
| 13111 |
She was in the Castle of Kenilworth, within the verge of the Royal Court for the time, free from all risk of violence, and liable to be produced before Elizabeth on the first summons. These were circumstances which could not but assist greatly the efforts which he might have occasion to use in her behalf. |
| 13112 |
The gentlemen carried no arms save their swords and daggers. These gallants were as gaily dressed as imagination could devise; and as the garb of the time permitted a great display of expensive magnificence, nought was to be seen but velvet and cloth of gold and silver, ribbons, feathers, gems, and golden chains. |
| 13113 |
We cannot, for example, command the affections of a giddy young girl, or make her love sense and learning better than a courtier's fine doublet; and we cannot control sickness, with which it seems this lady is afflicted, who may not, by reason of such infirmity, attend our court here, as we had required her to do. |
| 13114 |
No monster and no giant guard the bower In whose recess reclined the fairy light, Robed in a loose cymar of lily white, And on her lap a sword of breadth and might, In whose broad blade, as in a mirror bright, Like maid that trims her for a festal night, The fairy deck'd her hair, and placed her coronet aright. |
| 13115 |
The knight expectant advanced up the hall, the whole length of which he had unfortunately to traverse, turning out his toes with so much zeal that he presented his leg at every step with its broadside foremost, so that it greatly resembled an old fashioned table knife with a curved point, when seen sideways. |
| 13116 |
It bore a figure of Fortune, placed on a globe, with a flag in her hand. Another salt was fashioned of silver, in form of a swan in full sail. That chivalry might not be omitted amid this splendour, a silver Saint George was presented, mounted and equipped in the usual fashion in which he bestrides the dragon. |
| 13117 |
Leicester looked out on the blue arch of heaven, with gestures and a countenance expressive of anxious exultation, while Varney, who remained within the darkened apartment, could (himself unnoticed), with a secret satisfaction, see his patron stretch his hands with earnest gesticulation towards the heavenly bodies. |
| 13118 |
She summoned to her aid such mental and bodily resources; and not unconscious how much the issue of her fate might depend on her own self possession, she prayed internally for strength of body and for mental fortitude, and resolved at the same time to yield to no nervous impulse which might weaken either. |
| 13119 |
Having taken these necessary precautions, the unfortunate lady withdrew to her couch, stretched herself down on it, mused in anxious expectation, and counted more than one hour after midnight, till exhausted nature proved too strong for love, for grief, for fear, nay, even for uncertainty, and she slept. |
| 13120 |
Yes, she slept. The Indian sleeps at the stake in the intervals between his tortures; and mental torments, in like manner, exhaust by long continuance the sensibility of the sufferer, so that an interval of lethargic repose must necessarily ensue, ere the pangs which they inflict can again be renewed. |
| 13121 |
The Queen followed him with her eye. She had already, with that self command which forms so necessary a part of a Sovereign's accomplishments, suppressed every appearance of agitation, and seemed as if she desired to banish all traces of her burst of passion from the recollection of those who had witnessed it. |
| 13122 |
He told me this morning he would not leave his chamber for the space of twelve hours or thereby, being bound by a promise. This lady's madness, when he shall learn it, will not, I fear, cure his infirmity. The moon is at the fullest, and men's brains are working like yeast. But hark! they sound to mount. |
| 13123 |
Besides, I had not these proofs until this very morning, when Anthony Foster's sudden arrival with the examinations and declarations, which he had extorted from the innkeeper Gosling and others, explained the manner of her flight from Cumnor Place, and my own researches discovered the steps which she had taken here. |
| 13124 |
But he comforted himself, and subdued his self reproaches, with the reflection that if he inflicted upon the Earl some immediate and transitory pain, it was in order to pave his way to the throne, which, were this marriage dissolved by death or otherwise, he deemed Elizabeth would willingly share with his benefactor. |
| 13125 |
He throws down and treads on these costly toys with the same vehemence would he dash to pieces this frailest toy of all, of which he used to rave so fondly. But that taste also will be forgotten when its object is no more. Well, he has no eye to value things as they deserve, and that nature has given to Varney. |
| 13126 |
But the Earl's rage seemed at once uncontrollable and deeply concentrated, and while he spoke his eyes shot fire, his voice trembled with excess of passion, and the light foam stood on his lip. His confidant made a bold and successful effort to obtain the mastery of him even in this hour of emotion. |
| 13127 |
He served the noble, the lofty, the high minded Leicester, and was more proud of depending on him than he would be of commanding thousands. But the abject lord who stoops to every adverse circumstance, whose judicious resolves are scattered like chaff before every wind of passion, him Richard Varney serves not. |
| 13128 |
Her departure was, of course, the signal for breaking up the company, who dispersed to their several places of repose, to dream over the pastimes of the day, or to anticipate those of the morrow. The unfortunate Lord of the Castle, and founder of the proud festival, retired to far different thoughts. |
| 13129 |
His direction to the valet who attended him was to send Varney instantly to his apartment. The messenger returned after some delay, and informed him that an hour had elapsed since Sir Richard Varney had left the Castle by the postern gate with three other persons, one of whom was transported in a horse litter. |
| 13130 |
The broad, yellow light was reflected on all sides from the white freestone, of which the pavement, balustrades, and architectural ornaments of the place were constructed; and not a single fleecy cloud was visible in the azure sky, so that the scene was nearly as light as if the sun had but just left the horizon. |
| 13131 |
Musing on matters far different from the fall of waters, the gleam of moonlight, or the song of the nightingale, the stately Leicester walked slowly from the one end of the terrace to the other, his cloak wrapped around him, and his sword under his arm, without seeing anything resembling the human form. |
| 13132 |
My lord, she extricated herself from an unlawful and most perilous state of confinement, trusting to the effects of her own remonstrance upon her unworthy husband, and extorted from me a promise that I would not interfere in her behalf until she had used her own efforts to have her rights acknowledged by him. |
| 13133 |
Leicester also thought it necessary to seem angry that no discovery had been effected; but at length suggested to Lord Hunsdon, that after all it could only be some foolish young men who had been drinking healths pottle deep, and who should be sufficiently scared by the search which had taken place after them. |
| 13134 |
The infantry followed in similar disguises. The whole exhibition was to be considered as a sort of anti masque, or burlesque of the more stately pageants in which the nobility and gentry bore part in the show, and, to the best of their knowledge, imitated with accuracy the personages whom they represented. |
| 13135 |
The Danes, as invaders, took their station under the Gallery tower, and opposite to that of Mortimer; and when their arrangements were completely made, a signal was given for the encounter. Their first charge upon each other was rather moderate, for either party had some dread of being forced into the lake. |
| 13136 |
But as reinforcements came up on either side, the encounter grew from a skirmish into a blazing battle. They rushed upon one another, as Master Laneham testifies, like rams inflamed by jealousy, with such furious encounter that both parties were often overthrown, and the clubs and targets made a most horrible clatter. |
| 13137 |
But whether from the political wish to seem interested in popular sports, or whether from a spark of old Henry's rough, masculine spirit, which Elizabeth sometimes displayed, it is certain the Queen laughed heartily at the imitation, or rather burlesque, of chivalry which was presented in the Coventry play. |
| 13138 |
When he had accomplished this, which was a work of some difficulty, he shot another glance behind him to see that Tressilian had been equally successful; and as soon as he saw him also free from the crowd, he led the way to a small thicket, behind which stood a lackey, with two horses ready saddled. |
| 13139 |
By the way the boy confessed, with much contrition, that in resentment at Wayland's evading all his inquiries concerning the lady, after Dickon conceived he had in various ways merited his confidence, he had purloined from him in revenge the letter with which Amy had entrusted him for the Earl of Leicester. |
| 13140 |
While they spoke, they saw Leicester and Tressilian separate themselves from the crowd, dogged them until they mounted their horses, when the boy, whose speed of foot has been before mentioned, though he could not possibly keep up with them, yet arrived, as we have seen, soon enough to save Tressilian's life. |
| 13141 |
It is very probable that, in doing so, he did the Earl good service; for had the Queen at that instant found anything on account of which she could vent her wrath upon him, without laying open sentiments of which she was ashamed, it might have fared hard with him. She paused when Tressilian had finished his tale. |
| 13142 |
The train of state soon caught the signal, and as he walked among his own splendid preparations, the Lord of Kenilworth, in his own Castle, already experienced the lot of a disgraced courtier, in the slight regard and cold manners of alienated friends, and the ill concealed triumph of avowed and open enemies. |
| 13143 |
In short, matters were so far changed in twenty four hours that some of the more experienced and sagacious courtiers foresaw a strong possibility of Leicester's restoration to favour, and regulated their demeanour towards him, as those who might one day claim merit for not having deserted him in adversity. |
| 13144 |
The empiric Wayland undertook to do his best, and as the curate conducted him to the spot, he learned that the man had been found on the highroad, about a mile from the village, by labourers, as they were going to their work on the preceding morning, and the curate had given him shelter in his house. |
| 13145 |
The wretch was by this time in the agonies of death, from which a much better surgeon than Wayland could not have rescued him, for the bullet had passed clear through his body. He was sensible, however, at least in part, for he knew Tressilian, and made signs that he wished him to stoop over his bed. |
| 13146 |
Her husband, he added, would be at Cumnor Place within twenty four hours after they had reached it. Somewhat comforted by this assurance, upon which, however, she saw little reason to rely, the unhappy Amy made her toilette by the assistance of the lantern, which they left with her when they quitted the apartment. |
| 13147 |
If I did, could I not find an hundred better ways to come at it? In one word, thy bedchamber, which thou hast fenced so curiously, must be her place of seclusion; and thou, thou hind, shalt press her pillows of down. I dare to say the Earl will never ask after the rich furniture of these four rooms. |
| 13148 |
Foster stopped at the door, and gave the lamp to the Countess, without either offering or permitting the attendance of the old woman who had carried it. The lady stood not on ceremony, but taking it hastily, barred the door, and secured it with the ample means provided on the inside for that purpose. |
| 13149 |
But as Varney in his last declaration had been studious to spare the character of his patron, the Earl was the object rather of compassion than resentment. The Queen at length recalled him to court; he was once more distinguished as a statesman and favourite; and the rest of his career is well known to history. |
| 13150 |
The name of Lambourne is still known in the vicinity, and it is said some of the clan partake the habits, as well as name, of the Michael Lambourne of the romance. A man of this name lately murdered his wife, outdoing Michael in this respect, who only was concerned in the murder of the wife of another man. |
| 13151 |
Even in the midst of the civil turmoil, he fell in love with, and married, a beautiful and amiable young lady of the noble house of Stanley; and from that time had the more merit in his loyalty, as it divorced him from her society, unless at very brief intervals, when his duty permitted an occasional visit to his home. |
| 13152 |
Scorning to be allured from his military duty by domestic inducements, Peveril of the Peak fought on for several rough years of civil war, and performed his part with sufficient gallantry, until his regiment was surprised and cut to pieces by Poyntz, Cromwell's enterprising and successful general of cavalry. |
| 13153 |
This was partly owing to his religious principles, for he was a zealous Presbyterian, partly to his political ideas, which, without being absolutely democratical, favoured the popular side of the great national question. Besides, he was a moneyed man, and to a certain extent had a shrewd eye to his worldly interest. |
| 13154 |
There were two considerations, besides the necessity of the case and the constant advice of his lady, which enabled Peveril of the Peak to endure, with some patience, this state of degradation. The first was, that the politics of Major Bridgenorth began, on many points, to assimilate themselves to his own. |
| 13155 |
The lady was the more ready to undertake this charge, that she herself had lost two infant children; and that she attributed the preservation of the third, now a fine healthy child of three years old, to Julian's being subjected to rather a different course of diet and treatment than was then generally practised. |
| 13156 |
Sir Geoffrey, like most men of his frank and good natured disposition, was naturally fond of children, and so much compassionated the sorrows of his neighbour, that he entirely forgot his being a Presbyterian, until it became necessary that the infant should be christened by a teacher of that persuasion. |
| 13157 |
The mode in which he showed his sympathy was rather singular, but exactly suited the character of both, and the terms on which they stood with each other. Morning after morning the good Baronet made Moultrassie Hall the termination of his walk or ride, and said a single word of kindness as he passed. |
| 13158 |
But the news was received on the one part with the kindness which was designed upon the other; it gradually became less painful and more interesting; the lattice window was never closed, nor was the leathern easy chair which stood next to it ever empty, when the usual hour of the Baronet's momentary visit approached. |
| 13159 |
So often had Sir Geoffrey's repeated attempts in favour of the Stewarts led him into new misfortunes, that when, the other morning, I saw him once more dressed in his fatal armour, and heard the sound of his trumpet, which had been so long silent, it seemed to me as if I saw his shroud, and heard his death knell. |
| 13160 |
The eldest, Julian Peveril, a fine boy betwixt four and five years old, led in his hand, with an air of dignified support and attention, a little girl of eighteen months, who rolled and tottered along, keeping herself with difficulty upright by the assistance of her elder, stronger, and masculine companion. |
| 13161 |
Again he held her at some distance from him, and examined her more attentively; he satisfied himself that the complexion of the young cherub he had in his arms was not the hectic tinge of disease, but the clear hue of ruddy health; and that though her little frame was slight, it was firm and springy. |
| 13162 |
Lady Peveril was aware that this was peculiarly the impression of her neighbour; that the depression of his spirits, the excess of his care, the feverishness of his apprehensions, the restraint and gloom of the solitude in which he dwelt, were really calculated to produce the evil which most of all he dreaded. |
| 13163 |
And to sum the whole up, the dame had a share of human vanity; and being a sort of Lady Bountiful in her way (for the character was not then confined to the old and the foolish), she was proud of the skill by which she had averted the probable attacks of hereditary malady, so inveterate in the family of Bridgenorth. |
| 13164 |
He looked upward, and downward, and around, cast his eye first to the oak carved ceiling, and anon fixed it upon the floor; then threw it around the room till it lighted on his child, the sight of whom suggested another and a better train of reflections than ceiling and floor had been able to supply. |
| 13165 |
Peveril of the Peak was still more thoughtless; for he had directed his lady to invite the whole honest men of the neighbourhood to make good cheer at Martindale Castle, in honour of the blessed Restoration of his most sacred Majesty, without precisely explaining where the provisions were to come from. |
| 13166 |
Sir Geoffrey had seen Charles and his brothers, and had been received by the merry monarch with that graceful, and at the same time frank urbanity, by which he conciliated all who approached him; the Knight's services and merits had been fully acknowledged, and recompense had been hinted at, if not expressly promised. |
| 13167 |
To yield up the disputed point to the Presbyterians, would have been to offend the Cavalier party, and Sir Geoffrey in particular, in the most mortal degree; for they made it as firm a point of honour to give healths, and compel others to pledge them, as the Puritans made it a deep article of religion to refuse both. |
| 13168 |
Major Bridgenorth himself seemed greatly relieved after this important matter had been settled. He had held it matter of conscience to be stubborn in maintaining his own opinion, but was heartily glad when he escaped from the apparently inevitable necessity of affronting Lady Peveril by the refusal of her invitation. |
| 13169 |
They looked like veterans after a defeat, which may have checked their career and wounded their pride, but has left their courage undiminished. The melancholy, now become habitual, which overcast Major Bridgenorth's countenance, well qualified him to act as the chief of the group who now advanced from the village. |
| 13170 |
These sounds of devotional triumph reached the joyous band of the Cavaliers, who, decked in whatever pomp their repeated misfortunes and impoverishment had left them, were moving towards the same point, though by a different road, and were filling the principal avenue to the Castle, with tiptoe mirth and revelry. |
| 13171 |
And this sort of rallying on the part of the Knight having fortunately abated the resentment which had begun to awaken in the breasts of the royalist cavalcade, farther cause for offence was removed, by the sudden ceasing of the sounds which they had been disposed to interpret into those of premeditated insult. |
| 13172 |
If they did not actually drink each other's healths, they at least showed, by looking and nodding to each other as they raised their glasses, that they all were sharing the same festive gratification of the appetite, and felt it enhanced, because it was at the same time enjoyed by their friends and neighbours. |
| 13173 |
He was cold and phlegmatic, and utterly devoid of that sacred fire which is the incentive to noble deeds, suspected, too, of leaning to the cold metaphysics of Calvinistic subtlety. But he was brave, wise, and experienced, and, as the event proved, possessed but too much interest with the islanders. |
| 13174 |
Sir Geoffrey returned to the ladies with looks of perplexity. While he deemed Bridgenorth within his reach, he was apprehensive of nothing he could do; for he felt himself his superior in personal strength, and in that species of courage which induces a man to rush, without hesitation, upon personal danger. |
| 13175 |
They rode, as the Spanish proverb expresses it, "with the beard on the shoulder," looking around, that is, from time to time, and using every precaution to have the speediest knowledge of any pursuit which might take place. But, however wise in discipline, Peveril and his followers were somewhat remiss in civil policy. |
| 13176 |
At his side was a person in black, with a silver greyhound on his arm; and he was followed by about eight or ten inhabitants of the village of Martindale Moultrassie, two or three of whom were officers of the peace, and others were personally known to Sir Geoffrey as favourers of the subverted government. |
| 13177 |
But the rest of the party, friends of Bridgenorth, and of his principles, kept their ground notwithstanding this defection, and seemed, from their looks, sternly determined to rule their conduct by that of their leader, whatever it might be. But it was evident that Bridgenorth did not intend to renew the struggle. |
| 13178 |
He shook himself rather roughly free from the hands of Sir Geoffrey Peveril; but it was not to draw his sword. On the contrary, he mounted his horse with a sullen and dejected air; and, making a sign to his followers, turned back the same road which he had come. Sir Geoffrey looked after him for some minutes. |
| 13179 |
His rights as a creditor, he had hitherto used with gentleness; but if he should employ rigour, Lady Peveril, whose attention to domestic economy had made her much better acquainted with her husband's affairs than he was himself, foresaw considerable inconvenience from the measures which the law put in his power. |
| 13180 |
Neither do I mean to speak of past times, particularly in respect of your worthy ladyship, being sensible that if I have served you in that period when our Israel might be called triumphant, you have more than requited me, in giving to my arms a child, redeemed, as it were, from the vale of the shadow of death. |
| 13181 |
But man is, while in this vale of tears, like an uninstructed bowler, so to speak, who thinks to attain the jack, by delivering his bowl straight forward upon it, being ignorant that there is a concealed bias within the spheroid, which will make it, in all probability, swerve away, and lose the cast. |
| 13182 |
She could not imagine what mode of reconciliation with his neighbour, Sir Geoffrey (no very acute judge of mankind or their peculiarities) could have devised, which might not be disclosed to her; and she felt some secret anxiety lest the means resorted to might be so ill chosen as to render the breach rather wider. |
| 13183 |
Upon opening the packet, which he did with no small feeling of importance, he found that it contained the warrant which he had solicited for replacing Doctor Dummerar in the parish, from which he had been forcibly ejected during the usurpation. Few incidents could have given more delight to Sir Geoffrey. |
| 13184 |
Solsgrace himself seemed to be desirous to make his sufferings as manifest as possible. He held out to the last; and on the Sabbath after he had received intimation of his ejection, attempted to make his way to the pulpit, as usual, supported by Master Bridgenorth's attorney, Win the Fight, and a few zealous followers. |
| 13185 |
And as I have never shown myself unwilling to draw my sword in any of the latter causes, so you shall excuse my suffering it now to remain in the scabbard, when, having sustained a grievous injury, the man who inflicted it summons me to combat, either upon an idle punctilio, or, as is more likely, in mere bravado. |
| 13186 |
In a few minutes afterwards, the tread of his horse died away at a considerable distance. Bridgenorth had held his hand upon his brow ever since his departure, and a tear of anger and shame was on his face as he raised it when the sound was heard no more. "He carries this answer to Martindale Castle," he said. |
| 13187 |
She could not, indeed, but marvel in her own mind at the singular path of reconciliation with his neighbour which her husband had, with so much confidence, and in the actual sincerity of his goodwill to Mr. Bridgenorth, attempted to open; and she blessed God internally that it had not terminated in bloodshed. |
| 13188 |
After some time, this report of a conspiracy seemed to die away like many others of that period. The warrants were recalled, but nothing more was seen or heard of Major Bridgenorth; although it is probable he might safely enough have shown himself as openly as many did who lay under the same circumstances of suspicion. |
| 13189 |
Christmas, too, closed, and the steeples no longer jangled forth a dissonant peal. The wren, to seek for which used to be the sport dedicated to the holytide, was left unpursued and unslain. Party spirit had come among these simple people, and destroyed their good humour, while it left them their ignorance. |
| 13190 |
Even the races, a sport generally interesting to people of all ranks, were no longer performed, because they were no longer interesting. The gentlemen were divided by feuds hitherto unknown, and each seemed to hold it scorn to be pleased with the same diversions that amused those of the opposite faction. |
| 13191 |
He chose, indeed, with an angler's eye, the most promising casts, which the stream broke sparkling over a stone, affording the wonted shelter to a trout; or where, gliding away from a rippling current to a still eddy it streamed under the projecting bank, or dashed from the pool of some low cascade. |
| 13192 |
The celebrated passage which we have prefixed to this chapter has, like most observations of the same author, its foundation in real experience. The period at which love is formed for the first time, and felt most strongly, is seldom that at which there is much prospect of its being brought to a happy issue. |
| 13193 |
Yet nothing so natural as that he should have done so. In early youth, Dame Debbitch had accidentally met with the son of her first patroness, and who had himself been her earliest charge, fishing in the little brook already noticed, which watered the valley in which she resided with Alice Bridgenorth. |
| 13194 |
This abomination reached the ears of the Colonel's widow, and by her was communicated to Bridgenorth, whose sudden appearance in the island showed the importance he attached to the communication. Had she been faithless to her own cause, that had been the latest hour of Mrs. Deborah's administration. |
| 13195 |
She was aware she had to guard not only against any reviving interest or curiosity on the part of Mistress Christian, but against the sudden arrival of Major Bridgenorth, who never failed once in the year to make his appearance at the Black Fort when least expected, and to remain there for a few days. |
| 13196 |
They had been companions in infancy; and a little exertion of memory enabled him to recall his childish grief for the unexpected and sudden disappearance of his little companion, whom he was destined again to meet with in the early bloom of opening beauty, in a country which was foreign to them both. |
| 13197 |
But the courage of a youthful lover is not easily subdued; and Julian, after having gone through the usual round of trying to forget his ungrateful mistress, and entertaining his passion with augmented violence, ended by the visit to the Black Fort, the beginning of which we narrated in the last chapter. |
| 13198 |
Such I at least conjectured, from the few expressions which I chanced to overhear; for I made bold, though it may be contrary to the code of modern courtesy, to listen a moment or two, in order to gather upon what subject so young a man as you entertained so young a woman as Alice, in a private interview. |
| 13199 |
Nor do I wish to root up your ancient family. If I prize not your boast of family honours and pedigree, I would not willingly destroy them; more than I would pull down a moss grown tower, or hew to the ground an ancient oak, save for the straightening of the common path, and advantage of the public. |
| 13200 |
Society knows not, and cannot know, the mental treasures which slumber in her bosom, till necessity and opportunity call forth the statesman and the soldier from the shades of lowly life to the parts they are designed by Providence to perform, and the stations which nature had qualified them to hold. |
| 13201 |
At his command they assumed the best and most sheltered positions for exchanging their deadly fire with the Indians; while, under cover of the smoke, the stranger sallied from the town, at the head of the other division of the New England men, and, fetching a circuit, attacked the Red Warriors in the rear. |
| 13202 |
The effect was gone, and there remained but the fixed, grave, inflexible features of the republican soldier. Julian left the apartment as one who walks in a dream; he mounted Fairy, and, agitated by a variety of thoughts, which he was unable to reduce to order, he returned to Castle Rushin before the night sat down. |
| 13203 |
The whole space is surrounded by double walls of great strength and thickness; and the access to the interior, at the time which we treat of, was only by two flights of steep and narrow steps, divided from each other by a strong tower and guard house; under the former of which, there is an entrance arch. |
| 13204 |
Their decayed walls, exhibiting the rude and massive architecture of the most remote period, were composed of a ragged grey stone, which formed a singular contrast with the bright red freestone of which the window cases, corner stones, arches, and other ornamental parts of the building, were composed. |
| 13205 |
My mother has told me nothing about it; supposing I believe, that I shall at length be tempted to inquire; but she will find herself much mistaken. I shall give her credit for full wisdom in her proceedings, rather than put her to the trouble to render a reason, though no woman can render one better. |
| 13206 |
In fact, it seemed that her temper, exasperated perhaps by a sense of her misfortune, was by no means equal to her abilities. She was very haughty in her demeanour, even towards the upper domestics, who in that establishment were of a much higher rank and better birth than in the families of the nobility in general. |
| 13207 |
A hasty wave of her hand intimated how she contemned the danger and the remonstrance; while, at the same time, she instantly resumed, with more eagerness than before, the earnest and impressive gestures by which she endeavoured to detain him in the fortress. Julian was somewhat staggered by her pertinacity. |
| 13208 |
It was then that the dumb maiden gave full course to the vehemence of her disposition; and clapping her hands repeatedly, expressed her displeasure in sound, or rather a shriek, so extremely dissonant, that it resembled more the cry of a wild creature, than anything which could have been uttered by female organs. |
| 13209 |
My father's views in ecclesiastical and civil policy are as dear to him as the life which he cherishes only to advance them. They have been, with little alteration, his companions through life. They brought him at one period into prosperity, and when they suited not the times, he suffered for having held them. |
| 13210 |
On this second occasion his countenance exhibited anger mixed with solemnity, like that of the spirit to a ghost seer, whom he upbraids with having neglected a charge imposed at their first meeting. Even his anger, however, produced no more violent emotion than a cold sternness of manner in his speech and action. |
| 13211 |
The proposal I made to your daughter was as sincere as ever was offered by man to woman. I only hesitated, because you think it necessary to examine me so very closely; and to possess yourself of all my purposes and sentiments, in their fullest extent, without explaining to me the tendency of your own. |
| 13212 |
You have lived when an apathy of mind, succeeding to the agitations of the Civil War, had made men indifferent to state affairs, and more willing to cultivate their own ease, than to stand in the gap when the Lord was pleading with Israel. But we are Englishmen; and with us such unnatural lethargy cannot continue long. |
| 13213 |
Bridgenorth, though strong minded and sagacious, is haunted by the fears of Popery, which are the bugbears of his sect. My residence in the family of the Countess of Derby is more than enough to inspire him with suspicions of my faith, from which, thank Heaven, I can vindicate myself with truth and a good conscience. |
| 13214 |
But the old pile soon rose before him, serene, and sternly still, amid the sleeping ocean. The banner, which indicated that the Lord of Man held residence within its ruinous precincts, hung motionless by the ensign staff. The sentinels walked to and fro on their posts, and hummed or whistled their Manx airs. |
| 13215 |
In fact, it would seem we had taken the alarm too soon. My mother speaks of consulting you on the subject, Julian; and I will not anticipate her solemn communication. It will be partly apologetical, I suppose; for we begin to think our retreat rather unroyal, and that, like the wicked, we have fled when no man pursued. |
| 13216 |
Under the evil repute arising from this tale of wonder, the guard room was abandoned, and a new one constructed. In like manner, the guards after that period held another and more circuitous communication with the Governor or Seneschal of the Castle; and that which lay through the ruinous church was entirely abandoned. |
| 13217 |
On Fenella, it was evident, no species of argument which he could employ was likely to make the least impression; and the question remained, how, if she went on with him, he was to rid himself of so singular and inconvenient a companion, and provide, at the same time, sufficiently for her personal security. |
| 13218 |
On this series of signs, Peveril could put no interpretation, excepting that he was menaced with some personal danger, from which Fenella seemed to conceive that her presence was a protection. Whatever was her meaning, her purpose seemed unalterably adopted; at least it was plain he had no power to shake it. |
| 13219 |
The captain readily showed him a hammock, in the after cabin, into which he threw himself, to seek that repose which the exercise and agitation of the preceding day, as well as the lateness of the hour, made him now feel desirable. Sleep, deep and heavy, sunk down on him in a few minutes, but it did not endure long. |
| 13220 |
Aristocratic, also, as his education had been, these anecdotes respecting Fenella's original situation and education, rather increased his pleasure of having shaken off her company; and yet he still felt desirous to know any farther particulars which the seaman could communicate on the same subject. |
| 13221 |
When aware of this material fact, it became Julian's business to leave Liverpool directly, and carry the alarm to Derbyshire, if, indeed, Mr. Topham had not already executed his charge in that county, which he thought unlikely, as it was probable they would commence by securing those who lived nearest to the seaports. |
| 13222 |
Now, when it ceased, to get out of the town unobserved, and take the nearest way to his father's castle, seemed his wisest plan. He had settled his reckoning at the inn, and brought with him to Bridlesley's the small portmanteau which contained his few necessaries, so that he had no occasion to return thither. |
| 13223 |
At the same time, it was very difficult, without actual rudeness, to shake off the company of one who seemed so determined, whether spoken to or not, to remain alongside of him. Peveril tried the experiment of riding slow; but his companion, determined not to drop him, slackened his pace, so as to keep close by him. |
| 13224 |
Julian then spurred his horse to a full trot; and was soon satisfied, that the stranger, notwithstanding the meanness of his appearance, was so much better mounted than himself, as to render vain any thought of outriding him. He pulled up his horse to a more reasonable pace, therefore, in a sort of despair. |
| 13225 |
You know not the pleasure of being conscience keeper to a pretty precisian, who in one breath repeats her foibles, and in the next confesses her passion. Perhaps, though, you may have known such in your day? Come, sir, it grows too dark to see your blushes; but I am sure they are burning on your cheek. |
| 13226 |
The one was the black shock head of the groom; the other, graced with a long thrum nightcap, showed a grizzled pate, and a grave caricatured countenance, which the hook nose and lantern jaws proclaimed to belong to the Gallic minister of good cheer, whose praises he had heard sung forth on the preceding evening. |
| 13227 |
The mean utensils, pewter measures, empty cans and casks, with which this room was lumbered, proclaimed it that of the host, who slept surrounded by his professional implements of hospitality and stock in trade. This discovery relieved Peveril from some delicate embarrassment which he had formerly entertained. |
| 13228 |
Under the influence of undefinable apprehension, young Peveril now struck the spurs into his jaded steed, and forcing him down the broken and steep path, at a pace which set safety at defiance, he arrived at the village of Martindale Moultrassie, eagerly desirous to ascertain the cause of this ominous eclipse. |
| 13229 |
The street, through which his tired horse paced slow and reluctantly, was now deserted and empty; and scarcely a candle twinkled from a casement, except from the latticed window of the little inn, called the Peveril Arms, from which a broad light shone, and several voices were heard in rude festivity. |
| 13230 |
Notwithstanding the darkness of the place, Julian succeeded marvellous quickly in preparing for his journey; and leaving his own horse to find its way to Dobbin's rack by instinct, he leaped upon his new acquisition, and spurred him sharply against the hill, which rises steeply from the village to the Castle. |
| 13231 |
Peveril dismounted, turned his horse loose, and advanced to the gate, which, contrary to his expectation, he found open. He entered the large courtyard; and could then perceive that lights yet twinkled in the lower part of the building, although he had not before observed them, owing to the height of the outward walls. |
| 13232 |
Had I cudgelled the cur soundly when he first bayed at me, the cowardly mongrel had been now crouching at my feet, instead of flying at my throat. But if I get through this action, as I have got through worse weather, I will pay off old scores, as far as tough crab tree and cold iron will bear me out. |
| 13233 |
The instant she had quitted his paternal embrace, she was aware of the unexpected guest who had returned in his company. A deep blush, rapidly succeeded by a deadly paleness, and again by a slighter suffusion, showed plainly to her lover that his sudden appearance was anything but indifferent to her. |
| 13234 |
The entertainment itself was coarse, though plentiful; and must, according to Julian's opinion, be distasteful to one so exquisitely skilled in good cheer, and so capable of enjoying, critically and scientifically, the genial preparations of his companion Smith, as Ganlesse had shown himself on the preceding evening. |
| 13235 |
A train of domestics, grave, sad, and melancholy as their superiors, glided in to assist at this act of devotion, and ranged themselves at the lower end of the apartment. Most of these men were armed with long tucks, as the straight stabbing swords, much used by Cromwell's soldiery, were then called. |
| 13236 |
He took an old brazen lamp from the table, and, leading the way, said at the same time, "I must be the uncourtly chamberlain, who am to usher you to a place of repose, more rude, perhaps, than you have been accustomed to occupy." Julian followed him, in silence, up an old fashioned winding staircase, within a turret. |
| 13237 |
It cannot be, that you, who have been a soldier, and are a man, can be surprised or displeased by my interference in the defence of my father. Above all, you cannot, and I must needs say you do not, believe that I would have raised my hand against you personally, had there been a moment's time for recognition. |
| 13238 |
The noise of this hubbub on the outside, soon excited wild alarm and tumult within. Lights flew from window to window, and voices were heard demanding the cause of the attack; to which the party cries of those who were in the courtyard afforded a sufficient, or at least the only answer, which was vouchsafed. |
| 13239 |
Julian Peveril had been, like other inhabitants of Moultrassie Hall on that momentous night, awakened by the report of the sentinel's musket, followed by the shouts of his father's vassals and followers; of which he collected enough to guess that Bridgenorth's house was attacked with a view to his liberation. |
| 13240 |
He rushed through Bridgenorth's party ere they were aware of his approach, and throwing himself amongst the assailants who occupied the hall in considerable numbers, he assured them of his personal safety, and conjured them to depart. "Not without a few more slices at the Rump, master," answered Lance. |
| 13241 |
He therefore intimated to Julian, by his assistant Ralph, that the horses stood saddled behind the Lodge, and that all was ready for their departure. Julian took the hint, and they were soon mounted, and clearing the road, at a rapid trot, in the direction of London; but not by the most usual route. |
| 13242 |
And here he left him with no other light than that which glimmered from the well illuminated apartment within, through a sort of shuttle which accommodated the landlord with a view into it. This situation, inconvenient enough in itself, was, on the present occasion, precisely what Julian would have selected. |
| 13243 |
Why, thou hast been so long in the country, that thou hast got a bumpkinly clod compelling sort of look thyself. That greasy doublet fits thee as if it were thy reserved Sunday's apparel; and the points seem as if they were stay laces bought for thy true love Marjory. I marvel thou canst still relish a ragout. |
| 13244 |
It was full three hours after their departure, that Chiffinch lounged into the room in which they had supped, in a brocade nightgown, and green velvet cap, turned up with the most costly Brussels lace. He seemed but half awake; and it was with drowsy voice that he called for a cup of cold small beer. |
| 13245 |
Lance, instructed by his master to watch the motions of the courtier, officiously attended with the cooling beverage he called for, pleading, as an excuse to the landlord, his wish to see a Londoner in his morning gown and cap. No sooner had Chiffinch taken his morning draught, than he inquired after Lord Saville. |
| 13246 |
I remember well enough that my roundheaded father in law, Fairfax, had the island from the Long Parliament; and was ass enough to quit hold of it at the Restoration, when, if he had closed his clutches, and held fast, like a true bird of prey, as he should have done, he might have kept it for him and his. |
| 13247 |
Will men say I have ruined her, when I shall have raised her to the dazzling height of the Duchess of Portsmouth, and perhaps made her a mother to a long line of princes? Chiffinch hath vouched for opportunity; and the voluptuary's fortune depends upon his gratifying the taste of his master for variety. |
| 13248 |
Meantime, Christian was too useful a follower to be dismissed. From Buckingham, and others of that stamp, he did not affect to conceal the laxity of his morals; but towards the numerous and powerful party to which he belonged, he was able to disguise them by a seeming gravity of exterior, which he never laid aside. |
| 13249 |
He maintained a close and intimate correspondence with his native island, so as to be perfectly informed of whatever took place there; and he stimulated, on every favourable opportunity, the cupidity of Buckingham to possess himself of this petty kingdom, by procuring the forfeiture of its present Lord. |
| 13250 |
It was not difficult to keep his patron's wild wishes alive on this topic, for his own mercurial imagination attached particular charms to the idea of becoming a sort of sovereign even in this little island; and he was, like Catiline, as covetous of the property of others, as he was profuse of his own. |
| 13251 |
The person whom he looked upon was past the middle age of life, of a dark complexion, corresponding with the long, black, full bottomed periwig, which he wore instead of his own hair. His dress was plain black velvet, with a diamond star, however, on his cloak, which hung carelessly over one shoulder. |
| 13252 |
There was a heaviness at her heart which she could not dispel; and the few hours which she had already spent at Chiffinch's were like those passed in prison by one unconscious of the cause or event of his captivity. It was the third morning after her arrival in London, that the scene took place which we now recur to. |
| 13253 |
Firmly and respectfully she announced her purpose of instant departure. She needed no other escort, she said, than what this gentleman, Master Julian Peveril, who was well known to her father, would willingly afford her; nor did she need that farther than until she had reached her father's residence. |
| 13254 |
But it was quickly found that a breast plate and back plate of proof, fastened together with iron clasps, was no convenient enclosure for a man who meant to eat venison and custard; and that a buff coat or shirt of mail was scarcely more accommodating to the exertions necessary on such active occasions. |
| 13255 |
But with this careless and desperate group Julian was not to be numbered, being led, or rather forced, by his conductors, into a low arched door, which, carefully secured by bolts and bars, opened for his reception on one side of the archway, and closed, with all its fastenings, the moment after his hasty entrance. |
| 13256 |
It is true these were of a graver character than he had hitherto exhibited, for when the flask was empty, he repeated a long Latin prayer. But the religious act in which he had been engaged, only gave his discourse a more serious turn than belonged to his former themes, of war, lady's love, and courtly splendour. |
| 13257 |
By the time the dwarf had ceased to speak, Julian's desire of sleep had returned; and after a few glances around the apartment, which was still illuminated by the expiring beams of the holy taper, his eyes were again closed in forgetfulness, and his repose was not again disturbed in the course of that night. |
| 13258 |
Then came the repetition of his accustomed prayers; but his disposition to converse did not, as on the former occasion, revive after his devotions. On the contrary, long before Julian had closed an eye, the heavy breathing from Sir Geoffrey Hudson's pallet declared that the dwarf was already in the arms of Morpheus. |
| 13259 |
Place a beetle under a tall candlestick, and the insect will move it by its efforts to get out; which is, in point of comparative strength, as if one of us should shake his Majesty's prison of Newgate by similar struggles. Cats also, and weasels, are creatures of greater exertion or endurance than dogs or sheep. |
| 13260 |
Leaving the dwarf to prepare the meal after his own pleasure, Peveril employed himself in measuring the room with his eyes on every side, and in endeavouring to discover some private entrance, such as might admit his midnight visitant, and perhaps could be employed in case of need for effecting his own escape. |
| 13261 |
If your heart can resolve to give up an attachment which it should never have entertained, and which it would be madness to cherish longer, make your acquiescence in this condition known by putting on your hat a white band, or white feather, or knot of ribbon of the same colour, whichever you may most easily come by. |
| 13262 |
He also recollected that falsehood is equally base, whether expressed in words or in dumb show; and that he should lie as flatly by using the signal agreed upon in evidence of his renouncing Alice Bridgenorth, as he would in direct terms if he made such renunciation without the purpose of abiding by it. |
| 13263 |
I have seen her, and from sworn enemies we have become sworn friends. The treaty between such high and mighty powers had some weighty articles; besides, I had a French negotiator to deal with; so that you will allow a few hours' absence was but a necessary interval to make up our matters of diplomacy. |
| 13264 |
It must have been Empson who fluted all this into her Grace's ear; and thinking she saw how her ladyship and I could hunt in couples, she entreats me to break Christian's scheme, and keep the wench out of the King's sight, especially if she were such a rare piece of perfection as fame has reported her. |
| 13265 |
I won a thousand pieces of the young Earl when he was last here, and suffered him to hang about me at Court. I question if the whole revenue of his kingdom is worth twice as much. Easily I could win it of him, were he here, with less trouble than it would cost me to carry on these troublesome intrigues of Christian's. |
| 13266 |
Fie upon it, man, we have known each other long. I never thought you a coward; and am only glad to see I could strike a few sparkles of heat out of your cold and constant disposition. I will now, if you please, tell you at once the fate of the young lady, in which I pray you to believe that I am truly interested. |
| 13267 |
His dress was very plain, and more allied to that of the Puritans than of the Cavaliers of the time; a shadowy black hat, like the Spanish sombrero; a large black mantle or cloak, and a long rapier, gave him something the air of a Castilione, to which his gravity and stiffness of demeanour added considerable strength. |
| 13268 |
Beat your spaniel heartily if you would have him under command. Ever let your agents see you know what they are, and prize them accordingly. A rogue, who must needs be treated as a man of honour, is apt to get above his work. Enough, therefore, of your advice and censure, Jerningham; we differ in every particular. |
| 13269 |
Indeed, so far was this from being the case, that his Grace was rather surprised than delighted with the success of the enterprise which had made her an inmate there, although it is probable he might have thrown himself into an uncontrollable passion, had he learned its miscarriage instead of its success. |
| 13270 |
Twenty four hours had passed over since he had returned to his own roof, before, notwithstanding sundry hints from Jerningham, he could even determine on the exertion necessary to pay his fair captive a visit; and then it was with the internal reluctance of one who can only be stirred from indolence by novelty. |
| 13271 |
On his own part, he had none of those feelings of anxiety with which a man, even of the most vulgar mind, comes to the presence of the female whom he wishes to please, far less the more refined sentiments of love, respect, desire, and awe, with which the more refined lover approaches the beloved object. |
| 13272 |
Buckingham, therefore, felt it due to his reputation as a successful hero of intrigue, to pay his addresses to Alice Bridgenorth with dissembled eagerness; and, as he opened the door of the inner apartment, he paused to consider, whether the tone of gallantry, or that of passion, was fittest to use on the occasion. |
| 13273 |
The Duke's servants, who had obeyed his impatient summons, were hastily directed to search for this tantalising siren in every direction. Their master, in the meantime, eager and vehement in every new pursuit, but especially when his vanity was piqued, encouraged their diligence by bribes, and threats, and commands. |
| 13274 |
But his little person was so obscured and jostled aside, on the meeting of the father and son, who had been brought in different boats from the Tower, and placed at the bar at the same moment, that his distress and his dignity were alike thrown into the background, and attracted neither sympathy nor admiration. |
| 13275 |
A fleece of white periwig showed a most uncouth visage, of great length, having the mouth, as the organ by use of which he was to rise to eminence, placed in the very centre of the countenance, and exhibiting to the astonished spectator as much chin below as there was nose and brow above the aperture. |
| 13276 |
This notorious personage, such as we have described him, stood forth on the present trial, and delivered his astonishing testimony concerning the existence of a Catholic Plot for the subversion of the government and murder of the King, in the same general outline in which it may be found in every English history. |
| 13277 |
I could have proved his having sheltered her in his Castle against a process of law, and rescued her, by force of arms, from this very Justice Bridgenorth, not without actual violence. Moreover, I could have proved against young Peveril the whole affray charged upon him by the same worshipful evidence. |
| 13278 |
The matchless look and air with which Sir Geoffrey made this vaunt, set all a laughing, and increased the ridicule with which the whole trial began to be received; so that it was amidst shaking sides and watery eyes that a general verdict of Not Guilty was pronounced, and the prisoners dismissed from the bar. |
| 13279 |
Faith, he took such an interest in my leaving town, that he wanted to compel me to do it at point of fox, so I was obliged to spill a little of his malapert blood. Your Grace's swordsmen have had ill luck of late; and it is hard, since you always choose the best hands, and such scrupleless knaves too. |
| 13280 |
A great laugh took place among such courtiers as heard, and among many who did not hear, what was uttered by the dwarf; the former entertained by the extravagant emphasis and gesticulation of the little champion, and the others laughing not the less loud that they laughed for example's sake, and upon trust. |
| 13281 |
He commenced with a flourish about his sufferings for the Plot, which the impatience of Ormond would have cut short, had not the King reminded his Grace, that a top, when it is not flogged, must needs go down of itself at the end of a definite time, while the application of the whip may keep it up for hours. |
| 13282 |
We could not, as it unhappily proved, manage our attempt so silently, but that our guards overheard us, and, entering in numbers, separated us from each other, and compelled my companions, at point of pike and poniard, to go to some other and more distant apartment, thus separating our fair society. |
| 13283 |
The King stood in the midst of the apartment, surrounded by the personages with whom he had been consulting. The rest of the brilliant assembly, scattered into groups, looked on at some distance. All were silent when Buckingham entered, in hopes of receiving some explanation of the mysteries of the evening. |
| 13284 |
A more regular discussion of his evidence was then resumed, and Ormond was the first who pointed out, that it went farther than had been noticed, since the little man had mentioned a certain extraordinary and treasonable conversation held by the Duke's dependents, by whom he had been conveyed to the palace. |
| 13285 |
While he consulted with Lance Outram about cleaning his buff belt and sword hilt, as well as time admitted, Lady Peveril had the means to give Julian more distinct information, that Alice was under her protection by her father's authority, and with his consent to their union, if it could be accomplished. |
| 13286 |
He paused at the door of the cabinet, but when the King called on him to advance, came hastily forward, with every feeling of his earlier and later life afloat, and contending in his memory, threw himself on his knees before the King, seized his hand, and, without even an effort to speak, wept aloud. |
| 13287 |
When at peace, they reigned as absolute princes in their own provinces; and the House of Burgundy, possessed of the district so called, together with the fairest and richest part of Flanders, was itself so wealthy, and so powerful, as to yield nothing to the crown, either in splendour or in strength. |
| 13288 |
When these errors took place, they seem to have arisen from an over refined system of policy, which induced Louis to assume the appearance of undoubting confidence in those whom it was his object to overreach; for, in his general conduct, he was as jealous and suspicious as any tyrant who ever breathed. |
| 13289 |
The brigandage of the Free Companies, and the unpunished oppressions of the nobility, he laboured to lessen, since he could not actually stop them; and, by dint of unrelaxed attention, he gradually gained some addition to his own regal authority, or effected some diminution of those by whom it was counterbalanced. |
| 13290 |
It was impossible for a man of his profound sagacity not to despise the stubborn obstinacy which never resigned its purpose, however fatal perseverance might prove, and the headlong impetuosity, which commenced its career without allowing a moment's consideration for the obstacles to be encountered. |
| 13291 |
His short grey cloak and hose were rather of Flemish than of French fashion, while the smart blue bonnet, with a single sprig of holly and an eagle's feather, was already recognised as the Scottish head gear. His dress was very neat, and arranged with the precision of a youth conscious of possessing a fine person. |
| 13292 |
Instead of the boots of the period, he wore buskins of half dressed deer's skin. Although his form had not yet attained its full strength, he was tall and active, and the lightness of the step with which he advanced, showed that his pedestrian mode of travelling was pleasure rather than pain to him. |
| 13293 |
The eldest, and most remarkable of these men, in dress and appearance resembled the merchant or shopkeeper of the period. His jerkin, hose, and cloak, were of a dark uniform colour, but worn so threadbare, that the acute young Scot conceived that the wearer must be either very rich or very poor, probably the former. |
| 13294 |
His strong features, sunk cheeks, and hollow eyes, had, nevertheless, an expression of shrewdness and humour congenial to the character of the young adventurer. But then, those same sunken eyes, from under the shroud of thick black eyebrows, had something in them that was at once commanding and sinister. |
| 13295 |
His comrade was a stout formed, middle sized man, more than ten years younger than his companion, with a down looking visage, and a very ominous smile, when by chance he gave way to that impulse, which was never, except in reply to certain secret signs that seemed to pass between him and the elder stranger. |
| 13296 |
In a small niche, over the arched doorway, stood a stone image of Saint Hubert, with the bugle horn around his neck, and a leash of grey hounds at his feet. The situation of the chapel in the midst of a park or chase, so richly stocked with game, made the dedication to the Sainted Huntsman peculiarly appropriate. |
| 13297 |
The whole adornments took an appropriate and silvan character; and the mass itself, being considerably shortened, proved to be of that sort which is called a hunting mass, because in use before the noble and powerful, who, while assisting at the solemnity, are usually impatient to commence their favourite sport. |
| 13298 |
Yet, during this brief ceremony, Durward's companion seemed to pay the most rigid and scrupulous attention; while Durward, not quite so much occupied with religious thoughts, could not forbear blaming himself in his own mind, for having entertained suspicions derogatory to the character of so good and so humble a man. |
| 13299 |
From the verge of the wood where young Durward halted with his companion, in order to take a view of this royal residence, extended, or rather arose, though by a very gentle elevation, an open esplanade, devoid of trees and bushes of every description, excepting one gigantic and half withered old oak. |
| 13300 |
Why, I did see something, but only took it for a raven among the branches. But the sight is no way strange, young man; when the summer fades into autumn, and moonlight nights are long, and roads become unsafe, you will see a cluster of ten, ay of twenty such acorns, hanging on that old doddered oak. |
| 13301 |
A scutcheon, bearing the fleur de lys, hung over the principal door of the large irregular building; but there was about the yard and the offices little or none of the bustle which in those days, when attendants were maintained both in public and in private houses, marked that business was alive, and custom plenty. |
| 13302 |
On the contrary, the oftener and more fixedly Quentin looked at him, the stronger became his curiosity to know who or what this man actually was; and he set him down internally for at least a Syndic or high magistrate of Tours, or one who was, in some way or other, in the full habit of exacting and receiving deference. |
| 13303 |
His first most natural, though perhaps not most dignified impulse, drove him to peep into the silver goblet, which assuredly was more than half full of silver pieces, to the number of several scores, of which perhaps Quentin had never called twenty his own at one time during the course of his whole life. |
| 13304 |
And if it please his Majesty to remain behind, and in the background, while such things are doing, he hath the more leisure of spirit to admire, and the more liberality of hand to reward the adventurers, whose dangers, perhaps, and whose feats of arms, he can better judge of than if he had personally shared them. |
| 13305 |
But that was a chapter of romance, and his uncle's coversation had opened to him a page of the real history of life. It was no pleasing one, and for the present the recollections and reflections which it excited, were qualified to overpower other thoughts, and especially all of a light and soothing nature. |
| 13306 |
Quentin's imagination had filled up the sketch in his own way, and assimilated his successful and adventurous uncle (whose exploits probably lost nothing in the telling) to some of the champions and knights errant of whom minstrels sang, and who won crowns and kings' daughters by dint of sword and lance. |
| 13307 |
But now I have seen him, and, woe worth him, there has been more help in a mere mechanical stranger, than I have found in my own mother's brother, my countryman and a cavalier! One would think the slash, that has carved all comeliness out of his face, had let at the same time every drop of gentle blood out of his body. |
| 13308 |
The unhappy youth cast after him an eye almost darkened by despair, and thought he heard, in every tramp of his horse's retreating hoofs, the last slight chance of his safety vanish. He looked around him in agony, and was surprised, even in that moment, to see the stoical indifference of his fellow prisoners. |
| 13309 |
In the meanwhile, in answer to his uncle's repeated interrogations, he gave him an exact account of the accident which had that morning brought him into so much danger. Although he himself saw nothing in his narrative save what was affecting, he found it was received with much laughter by his escort. |
| 13310 |
A serious countenance did he bear as he passed through the two courts which separated his lodging from the festal chamber, and solemn as the gravity of a hogshead was the farewell caution, with which he prayed Ludovic to attend his nephew's motions, especially in the matters of wenches and wine cups. |
| 13311 |
On the contrary, this was a little, pale, meagre man, whose black silk jerkin and hose, without either coat, cloak, or cassock, formed a dress ill qualified to set off to advantage a very ordinary person. He carried a silver basin in his hand, and a napkin flung over his arm indicated his menial capacity. |
| 13312 |
It was one of that able statesman's weaknesses, as we have elsewhere hinted, to suppose himself, though of low rank and limited education, qualified to play the courtier and the man of gallantry. He did not, indeed, actually enter the lists of chivalrous combat, like Becket, or levy soldiers like Wolsey. |
| 13313 |
The powerful churchman got off, however, for the fright, and, crawling as hastily as he could out of the way of hounds and huntsmen, saw the whole chase sweep by him without affording him assistance; for hunters in those days were as little moved by sympathy for such misfortunes as they are in our own. |
| 13314 |
You are permitted to stand still while you list, but on no account to sit down, or quit your weapon. You are not to sing aloud, or whistle, upon any account; but you may, if you list, mutter some of the church's prayers, or what else you list that has no offence in it, in a low voice. Farewell, and keep good watch. |
| 13315 |
This was done in an instant; but the glance conveyed so much doubt and hatred towards his guests, such a peremptory injunction on Quentin to be watchful in attendance, and prompt in execution, that no room was left for doubting that the sentiments of Louis continued unaltered, and his apprehensions unabated. |
| 13316 |
So soon as all, even Oliver, had retired, he called Quentin from his place of concealment; but with a voice so faint, that the youth could scarce believe it to be the same which had so lately given animation to the jest, and zest to the tale. As he approached, he saw an equal change in his countenance. |
| 13317 |
He turned his thoughts from this subject of reflection, with the sage consolation so often adopted by youth when prospective dangers intrude themselves on their mind, that it was time enough to think what was to be done when the emergence actually arrived, and that sufficient for the day was the evil thereof. |
| 13318 |
The Lady of the Lute was certainly one of those to whom his attention was to be dedicated; and well in his mind did he promise to obey one part of the King's mandate, and listen with diligence to every word that might drop from her lips, that he might know if the magic of her conversation equalled that of her music. |
| 13319 |
By her imperfect and unequal gait, which showed to peculiar disadvantage as she traversed this long gallery, Quentin at once recognised the Princess Joan, and, with the respect which became his situation, drew himself up in a fitting attitude of silent vigilance, and lowered his weapon to her as she passed. |
| 13320 |
There was little in the features of this ill fated Princess to atone for the misfortune of her shape and gait. Her face was, indeed, by no means disagreeable in itself, though destitute of beauty; and there was a meek expression of suffering patience in her large blue eyes, which were commonly fixed upon the ground. |
| 13321 |
The Princess Joan then took her own chair with a dignity which became her, and compelled the two strangers to sit, one on either hand, to which the younger consented with unfeigned and respectful diffidence, and the elder with an affectation of deep humility and deference, which was intended for such. |
| 13322 |
The Duke, biting his lip, and cursing the folly which could not keep guard over his tongue, ran to summon the Princess's attendants, who were in the next chamber; and when they came hastily, with the usual remedies, he could not but, as a cavalier and gentleman, give his assistance to support and to recover her. |
| 13323 |
In his own country he hath escaped the sword, amid the massacre of his whole family, and here, within the brief compass of two days, he hath been strangely rescued from drowning and from the gallows, and hath already, on a particular occasion, as I but lately hinted to thee, been of the most material service to me. |
| 13324 |
The apartments of this courtly and martial sage were far more splendidly furnished than any which Quentin had yet seen in the royal palace; and the carving and ornamented wood work of his library, as well as the magnificence displayed in the tapestries, showed the elegant taste of the learned Italian. |
| 13325 |
On the table lay a variety of mathematical and astrological instruments, all of the most rich materials and curious workmanship. His astrolabe of silver was the gift of the Emperor of Germany, and his Jacob's staff of ebony, jointed with gold, and curiously inlaid, was a mark of esteem from the reigning Pope. |
| 13326 |
Galeotti Martivalle was a tall, bulky, yet stately man, considerably past his prime, and whose youthful habits of exercise, though still occasionally resumed, had not been able to contend with his natural tendency to corpulence, increased by sedentary study, and indulgence in the pleasures of the table. |
| 13327 |
Meanwhile, the ladies continued their journey in silence, or in such conversation as is not worth narrating, until day began to break; and as they had then been on horseback for several hours, Quentin, anxious lest they should be fatigued, became impatient to know their distance from the nearest resting place. |
| 13328 |
All remained standing in irresolution and astonishment, so high was the rank, and so much esteemed was the character, of the culprit; while, at the same time, all were conscious that the consequences of his rash enterprise, considering the views which the King had upon him, were likely to end in his utter ruin. |
| 13329 |
The ladies retired to their apartment, as usual, and the Prior, who chanced to have some distant alliances and friends in Scotland, and who was fond of hearing foreigners tell of their native countries, invited Quentin, with whose mien and conduct he seemed much pleased, to a slight monastic refection in his own cell. |
| 13330 |
And he hath formed to himself a band of more than a thousand men, all, like himself, contemners of civil and ecclesiastical authority, and holds himself independent of the Duke of Burgundy, and maintains himself and his followers by rapine and wrong, wrought without distinction, upon churchmen and laymen. |
| 13331 |
But it is in evil time that the Duke neglects the cure of these internal gangrenes; for this William de la Marck hath of late entertained open communication with Rouslaer and Pavillon, the chiefs of the discontented at Liege, and it is to be feared he will soon stir them up to some desperate enterprise. |
| 13332 |
He hath power as a secular prince, and he hath the protection of the mighty House of Burgundy; he hath also spiritual authority as a prelate, and he supports both with a reasonable force of good soldiers and men at arms. This William de la Marck was bred in his household, and bound to him by many benefits. |
| 13333 |
Upon knocking gently at the gate, a brother, considerately stationed for that purpose by the Prior, opened it, and acquainted him that the brethren were to be engaged in the choir till day break, praying Heaven to forgive to the community the various scandals which had that evening taken place among them. |
| 13334 |
This worthy seemed of a remarkably passive, if not a forgiving temper. Injury or threat never dwelt, or at least seemed not to dwell, on his recollection; and he entered into the conversation which Durward presently commenced, just as if there had been no unkindly word betwixt them in the course of the morning. |
| 13335 |
Quentin instantly followed; but, better acquainted than the Scot with the passages of the house, Hayraddin kept the advantage which he had gotten; and the pursuer lost sight of him as he descended a small back staircase. Still Durward followed, though without exact consciousness of his own purpose in doing so. |
| 13336 |
In a few minutes, Quentin was within the walls of the city of Liege, then one of the richest in Flanders, and of course in the world. Melancholy, even love melancholy, is not so deeply seated, at least in minds of a manly and elastic character, as the soft enthusiasts who suffer under it are fond of believing. |
| 13337 |
He, therefore, made straight towards the side that was nearest him, as he discerned that it presented an embattled wall, probably that of the little garden already noticed, with a postern opening upon the moat, and a skiff moored by the postern, which might serve, he thought, upon summons, to pass him over. |
| 13338 |
As Quentin thus resolved, he entered the castle by the principal gate, and found that part of the family who assembled for dinner in the great hall, including the Bishop's attendant clergy, officers of the household, and strangers below the rank of the very first nobility, were already placed at their meal. |
| 13339 |
Still it was necessary to preserve some semblance at least of attention; which the youth found so difficult, that he fairly wished at the devil the officious naturalist and the whole vegetable kingdom. He was relieved at length by the striking of a clock, which summoned the Chaplain to some official duty. |
| 13340 |
This was a matter to be closely looked into, for Quentin felt a repugnance to this individual proportioned to the unabashed impudence with which he had avowed his profligacy, and could not bring himself to hope, that any thing in which he was concerned could ever come to an honourable or happy conclusion. |
| 13341 |
How could I dream that he would have made scruples about a few years, youth or age, when the advantages of the match were so evident? And thou knowest, there would have been no moving yonder coy wench to be so frank as this coming Countess here, who hangs on our arms as dead a weight as a wool pack. |
| 13342 |
There was not time to look for the boat, even had it been practicable to use it, and it was in vain to approach the postern of the garden, which was crowded with fugitives, who ever and anon, as they were thrust through it by the pressure behind, fell into the moat which they had no means of crossing. |
| 13343 |
He avoided with difficulty the fatal grasp of more than one sinking wretch, and, swimming to the drawbridge, caught hold of one of the chains which was hanging down, and, by a great exertion of strength and activity, swayed himself out of the water, and attained the platform from which the bridge was suspended. |
| 13344 |
Durward, who had not lost a word of the conversation, which alarmed him very much, saw nevertheless that their only safety depended on his preserving his own presence of mind, and sustaining the courage of Pavillon. He struck boldly into the conversation, as one who had a right to have a voice in the deliberation. |
| 13345 |
This was an unusual thickness and projection of the mouth and upper jaw, which, with the huge projecting side teeth, gave that resemblance to the bestial creation, which, joined to the delight that De la Marck had in haunting the forest so called, originally procured for him the name of the Boar of Ardennes. |
| 13346 |
The mother of the boy, a beautiful concubine, had perished by a blow dealt her by the ferocious leader in a fit of drunkenness or jealousy; and her fate had caused her tyrant as much remorse as he was capable of feeling. His attachment to the surviving orphan might be partly owing to these circumstances. |
| 13347 |
The name of Charles of Burgundy, a person likely to resent to the utmost the deeds of that night, had an alarming sound, and the extreme impolicy of at once quarrelling with the Liegeois and provoking the Monarch of France, made an appalling impression on their minds, confused as their intellects were. |
| 13348 |
He seated himself by his guest's bedside, and began a long and complicated discourse upon the domestic duties of a married life, and especially upon the awful power and right supremacy which it became married men to sustain in all differences of opinion with their wives. Quentin listened with some anxiety. |
| 13349 |
Having carefully locked his treasure chamber, the wealthy Fleming next conveyed his guest to the parlour, where, in full possession of her activity of mind and body, though pale from the scenes of the preceding night, he found the Countess attired in the fashion of a Flemish maiden of the middling class. |
| 13350 |
It was but a trial of your sincerity, which I rejoice to see may be relied on, even when your partialities are most strongly excited. So, once more, I will think of no other protection than can be afforded by the first honourable baron holding of Duke Charles, to whom I am determined to render myself. |
| 13351 |
Please you, therefore, to take notice, that your business here is not to hunt after and stick these black hogs, for which you seemed but now to have felt an especial vocation, but to collect and bring to me true tidings what is going forward in the country of Liege, concerning which we hear such wild rumours. |
| 13352 |
The walls were of a tremendous thickness, the windows very small, and grated with bars of iron, and the huge clumsy bulk of the building cast a dark and portentous shadow over the whole of the court yard. "I am not to be lodged there!" the King said, with a shudder, that had something in it ominous. |
| 13353 |
At the door of the apartments destined for his use, which, though of later date than the Tower, were still both ancient and gloomy, stood a small party of the Scottish Guard, which the Duke, although he declined to concede the point to Louis, had ordered to be introduced, so as to be near the person of their master. |
| 13354 |
They were addressed to the King by the Ladies of Croye, and barely thanked him in very cold terms for his courtesy while at his Court, and, something more warmly, for having permitted them to retire, and sent them in safety from his dominions; expressions at which Louis laughed very heartily, instead of resenting them. |
| 13355 |
Well, thou didst wish her as bad a one, when thou didst modestly hint at thyself. However, Oliver, lucky the man who has her not; for hang, draw, and quarter, were the most gentle words which my gentle cousin spoke of him who should wed the young Countess, his vassal, without his most ducal permission. |
| 13356 |
Previous orders for this purpose had been given, and, upon returning to Peronne, King Louis found a banquet prepared with such a profusion of splendour and magnificence, as became the wealth of his formidable vassal, possessed as he was of almost all the Low Countries, then the richest portion of Europe. |
| 13357 |
His bauble, made of ebony, was crested, as usual, with a fool's head, with ass's ears formed of silver; but so small, and so minutely carved, that, till very closely examined, it might have passed for an official baton of a more solemn character. These were the only badges of his office which his dress exhibited. |
| 13358 |
Oliver and Tristan saw nothing better to be done, than to follow their example; and, never very good friends in the days of their court prosperity, they were both equally reluctant to repose confidence in each other upon this strange and sudden reverse of fortune. So that the whole party sat in silent dejection. |
| 13359 |
And God pity us poor soldiers, who are first driven mad with danger, and then madder with victory. I have heard of a legion consisting entirely of saints; and methinks it would take them all to pray and intercede for the rest of the army, and for all who wear plumes and corslets, buff coats and broadswords. |
| 13360 |
You foretold, yonder Scot should accomplish his enterprise fortunately for my interest and honour; and thou knowest it has so terminated, that no more mortal injury could I have received, than from the impression which the issue of that affair is like to make on the excited brain of the Mad Bull of Burgundy. |
| 13361 |
A day, or two days' patience, will prove or disprove what I have averred concerning the young Scot; and I will be contented to die on the wheel, and have my limbs broken joint by joint, if your Majesty have not advantage, and that in a most important degree, from the dauntless conduct of that Quentin Durward. |
| 13362 |
Amidst these vulgar and ignoble countenances, nothing could show to greater advantage than the stately form, handsome mien, and commanding features of the Astrologer, who might have passed for one of the ancient magi, imprisoned in a den of robbers, and about to invoke a spirit to accomplish his liberation. |
| 13363 |
He would have expressed some anxiety on the subject, but the King silenced him by entering into a statement of the various modes by which he had previously endeavoured to form friends at the Court of Burgundy, and which Oliver was charged to prosecute so soon as he should be permitted to stir abroad. |
| 13364 |
But although his intrigues have been doubtless the original cause of these commotions, I am so far from believing that he authorized the death of the Archbishop, that I believe one of his emissaries publicly protested against it; and I could produce the man, were it your Grace's pleasure to see him. |
| 13365 |
It is, no doubt, true, that I did, in the extremity of danger, avail myself of the influence which my imputed character gave me, to save the Countess Isabelle, to protect my own life, and, so far as I could, to rein in the humour for slaughter, which had already broke out in so dreadful an instance. |
| 13366 |
Meanwhile, the King judged it proper to go without farther ceremony to the quarters of the Duke of Burgundy, to ascertain what was to be the order of proceeding, and what co operation was expected from him. His presence occasioned a sort of council of war to be held, of which Charles might not otherwise have dreamed. |
| 13367 |
All were on their feet in a moment, and with as little noise as possible. In less than a second, Lord Crawford was at their head, and, dispatching an archer to alarm the King and his household, drew back his little party to some distance behind their watchfire, that they might not be seen by its light. |
| 13368 |
The delay which permitted these arrangements to be carried fully into effect, was owing to Quentin's having fortunately shot the proprietor of the house, who acted as guide to the column which was designed to attack it, and whose attack, had it been made instantly, might have had a chance of being successful. |
| 13369 |
The conduct of Louis on the other hand, was that of a calm, collected, sagacious leader, who neither sought nor avoided danger, but showed so much self possession and sagacity, that the Burgundian leaders readily obeyed the orders which he issued. The scene was now become in the utmost degree animated and horrible. |
| 13370 |
But at this moment the column which De la Marck had proposed to support, when his own course was arrested by the charge of Dunois, had lost all the advantages they had gained during the night; while the Burgundians, with returning day, had begun to show the qualities which belong to superior discipline. |
| 13371 |
But Quentin, to whom the importance attached to victory over this formidable antagonist was better known, sprung from his horse at the bottom of the breach, and, letting the noble animal, the gift of the Duke of Orleans, run loose through the tumult, ascended the ruins to measure swords with the Boar of Ardennes. |
| 13372 |
The latter, as if he had seen his intention, turned towards Durward with mace uplifted; and they were on the point of encounter, when a dreadful shout of triumph, of tumult, and of despair, announced that the besiegers were entering the city at another point, and in the rear of those who defended the breach. |
| 13373 |
I was never, I confess, one of those who are willing to suppose the brains of an author to be a kind of milk, which will not stand above a single creaming, and who are eternally harping to young authors to husband their efforts, and to be chary of their reputation, lest it grow hackneyed in the eyes of men. |
| 13374 |
Looking more attentively at the patriarchs of literature, whose earner was as long as it was brilliant, I thought I perceived that in the busy and prolonged course of exertion, there were no doubt occasional failures, but that still those who were favourites of their age triumphed over these miscarriages. |
| 13375 |
The inference from this and similar facts seemed to me to be, that new works were often judged of by the public, not so much from their own intrinsic merit, as from extrinsic ideas which readers had previously formed with regard to them, and over which a writer might hope to triumph by patience and by exertion. |
| 13376 |
A tale turning on the fortunes of Alfred or Elizabeth in England, or of Wallace or Bruce in Scotland, is sure by the very announcement to excite public curiosity to a considerable degree, and ensure the publisher's being relieved of the greater part of an impression, even before the contents of the work are known. |
| 13377 |
The intention of the work has been anticipated, and misconceived or misrepresented, and although the difficulty of executing the work again reminds us of Hotspur's task of "o'er walking a current roaring loud," yet the adventurer must look for more ridicule if he fails, than applause if he executes, his undertaking. |
| 13378 |
But you must allow that the public taste gives little encouragement to those legendary superstitions, which formed alternately the delight and the terror of our predecessors. In like manner, much is omitted illustrative of the impulse of enthusiasm in favour of the ancient religion in Mother Magdalen and the Abbot. |
| 13379 |
Hence, when danger was near and it was seldom far distant Sir Halbert Glendinning, for he now bore the rank of knighthood, was perpetually summoned to attend his patron on distant expeditions, or on perilous enterprises, or to assist him with his counsel in the doubtful intrigues of a half barbarous court. |
| 13380 |
The pride of ancestry, which rankled in the bosom of the ancient gentry, was more openly expressed by their ladies, and was, moreover, imbittered not a little by the political feuds of the time, for most of the Southern chiefs were friends to the authority of the Queen, and very jealous of the power of Murray. |
| 13381 |
If more serious danger threatened, an ample garrison was supplied by the male inhabitants of a little hamlet, which, under the auspices of Halbert Glendinning, had arisen on a small piece of level ground, betwixt the lake and the hill, nearly adjoining to the spot where the causeway joined the mainland. |
| 13382 |
This was Henry Warden, who now felt himself less able for the stormy task imposed on the reforming clergy; and having by his zeal given personal offence to many of the leading nobles and chiefs, did not consider himself as perfectly safe, unless when within the walls of the strong mansion of some assured friend. |
| 13383 |
She pressed her hands together as if she were wringing them in the extremity of her desolate feeling, as one whom Heaven had written childless. A large stag hound of the greyhound species approached at this moment, and attracted perhaps by the gesture, licked her hands and pressed his large head against them. |
| 13384 |
For some time it was all in vain, and the Lady watched, with unspeakable earnestness, the pallid countenance of the beautiful child. He seemed about ten years old. His dress was of the meanest sort, but his long curled hair, and the noble cast of his features, partook not of that poverty of appearance. |
| 13385 |
Hence, neither husband nor wife, neither son nor daughter, neither friend nor relation, are lawfully to be made the objects of our idolatry. The Lord our God is a jealous God, and will not endure that we bestow on the creature that extremity of devotion which He who made us demands as his own share. |
| 13386 |
Swear, then, that you will protect the boy as if he were your own, until I return hither and claim him, and I will consent for a space to part with him. But especially swear, he shall not lack the instruction of the godly man who hath placed the gospel truth high above those idolatrous shavelings, the monks and friars. |
| 13387 |
The domestics around her, less jealous, or less scrupulous than Lilias, acted as servants usually do, following the bias, and flattering, for their own purposes, the humour of the Lady; and the boy soon took on him those airs of superiority, which the sight of habitual deference seldom fails to inspire. |
| 13388 |
Matters stood thus in the castle of Avenel, when a winded bugle sent its shrill and prolonged notes from the shore of the lake, and was replied to cheerily by the signal of the warder. The Lady of Avenel knew the sounds of her husband, and rushed to the window of the apartment in which she was sitting. |
| 13389 |
Even at that distance, the Lady recognized the lofty plume, bearing the mingled colours of her own liveries and those of Glendonwyne, blended with the holly branch; and the firm seat and dignified demeanour of the rider, joined to the stately motion of the dark brown steed, sufficiently announced Halbert Glendinning. |
| 13390 |
In this fear there was implied a consciousness, that the favour she had shown him was excessive; for Halbert Glendinning was at least as gentle and indulgent, as he was firm and rational in the intercourse of his household; and to her in particular, his conduct had ever been most affectionately tender. |
| 13391 |
It grieves me, Mary, when I look on that land, and think what benefit it might receive from such men as I have lately seen men who seek not the idle fame derived from dead ancestors, or the bloody renown won in modern broils, but tread along the land, as preservers and improvers, not as tyrants and destroyers. |
| 13392 |
The crafty Lethington, the deep and dark Morton, have held secret council with me, and Grange and Lindsay have owned, that in the field I did the devoir of a gallant knight but let the emergence be passed when they need my head and hand, and they only know me as son of the obscure portioner of Glendearg. |
| 13393 |
The chaplain arrived; but neither from him did the Lady receive much comfort. On the contrary, she found him disposed, in plain terms, to lay to the door of her indulgence all the disturbances which the fiery temper of Roland Graeme had already occasioned, or might hereafter occasion, in the family. |
| 13394 |
He enlarged a good deal on the word striketh, which he assured his hearers comprehended blows given with the point as well as with the edge, and more generally, shooting with hand gun, cross bow, or long bow, thrusting with a lance, or doing any thing whatever by which death might be occasioned to the adversary. |
| 13395 |
The lady seemed at once embarrassed and offended; the menials could hardly contain, under an affectation of deep attention, the joy with which they heard the chaplain launch his thunders at the head of the unpopular favourite, and the weapon which they considered as a badge of affectation and finery. |
| 13396 |
The unfortunate subject of the harangue, whom nature had endowed with passions which had hitherto found no effectual restraint, could not disguise the resentment which he felt at being thus directly held up to the scorn, as well as the censure, of the assembled inhabitants of the little world in which he lived. |
| 13397 |
Up, then, and be doing wrestle and overcome; resist, and the enemy shall flee from you Watch and pray, lest ye fall into temptation, and let the stumbling of others be your warning and your example. Above all, rely not on yourselves, for such self confidence is even the worst symptom of the disorder itself. |
| 13398 |
The audience did not listen to this address without being considerably affected; though it might be doubted whether the feelings of triumph, excited by the disgraceful retreat of the favourite page, did not greatly qualify in the minds of many the exhortations of the preacher to charity and to humility. |
| 13399 |
And, in fact, the expression of their countenances much resembled the satisfied triumphant air of a set of children, who, having just seen a companion punished for a fault in which they had no share, con their task with double glee, both because they themselves are out of the scrape, and because the culprit is in it. |
| 13400 |
No, madam; I have borne my own burden in silence, and without disturbing you with murmurs; and the respect with which you accuse me of wanting, furnishes the only reason why I have neither appealed to you, nor taken vengeance at my own hand in a manner far more effectual. It is well, however, that we part. |
| 13401 |
They parted with less than their usual degree of reverence and regard; for the steward felt that his worldly wisdom was rebuked by the more disinterested attachment of the waiting woman, and Mistress Lilias Bradbourne was compelled to consider her old friend as something little better than a time server. |
| 13402 |
Look you, my Lady's page that was, when your switch was up, it was no fear of you, but of your betters, that kept mine down and I wot not what hinders me from clearing old scores with this hazel rung, and showing you it was your Lady's livery coat which I spared, and not your flesh and blood, Master Roland. |
| 13403 |
But ever look to a man's inches ere you talk of switching why, thine arm, man, is but like a spindle compared to mine. But hark, I hear old Adam Woodcock hollowing to his hawk Come along, man, we will have a merry afternoon, and go jollily to my father's in spite of the peat smoke and usquebaugh to boot. |
| 13404 |
But he checked the first eagerness of his repentant haste, when he reflected on the scorn and contempt with which the family were likely to see the return of the fugitive, humbled, as they must necessarily suppose him, into a supplicant, who requested pardon for his fault, and permission to return to his service. |
| 13405 |
The voice of the falconer was hearty and friendly, and the tone in which he half sung half recited his rude ballad, implied honest frankness and cordiality. But remembrance of their quarrel, and its consequences, embarrassed Roland, and prevented his reply. The falconer saw his hesitation, and guessed the cause. |
| 13406 |
Canny Yorkshire has no memory for such old sores. Why, man, an you had hit me a rough blow, maybe I would rather have taken it from you, than a rough word from another; for you have a good notion of falconry, though you stand up for washing the meat for the eyases. So give us your hand, man, and bear no malice. |
| 13407 |
There was a well, possessed of some medicinal qualities, which, of course, claimed the saint for its guardian and patron, and occasionally produced some advantage to the recluse who inhabited his cell, since none could reasonably expect to benefit by the fountain who did not extend their bounty to the saint's chaplain. |
| 13408 |
As there were few of the secular clergy who durst venture to reside so near the Border, the assistance of this monk in spiritual affairs had not been useless to the community, while the Catholic religion retained the ascendancy; as he could marry, christen, and administer the other sacraments of the Roman church. |
| 13409 |
These arches were now almost entirely demolished, and the stones of which they were built were tumbled into the well, as if for the purpose of choking up and destroying the fountain, which, as it had shared in other days the honour of the saint, was, in the present, doomed to partake his unpopularity. |
| 13410 |
In the present instance, the unpretending and quiet seclusion of the monk of Saint Cuthbert's had hitherto saved him from the general wreck; but it would seem ruin had now at length reached him. Anxious to discover if he had at least escaped personal harm, Roland Graeme entered the half ruined cell. |
| 13411 |
In this high train of enthusiasm, she stood, raising her eyes through the fractured roof of the vault, to the stars which now began to twinkle through the pale twilight, while the long gray tresses which hung down over her shoulders waved in the night breeze, which the chasm and fractured windows admitted freely. |
| 13412 |
It seemed as if she would not permit him to do aught for himself which in former days her attention had been used to do for him, and that she considered the tall stripling before her as being equally dependent on her careful attention as when he was the orphan child, who had owed all to her affectionate solicitude. |
| 13413 |
He sat up on his couch of leaves, and arranged in his memory, not without wonder, the singular events of the preceding day, which appeared the more surprising the more he considered them. He had lost the protectress of his youth, and, in the same day, he had recovered the guide and guardian of his childhood. |
| 13414 |
The former deprivation he felt ought to be matter of unceasing regret, and it seemed as if the latter could hardly be the subject of unmixed self congratulation. He remembered this person, who had stood to him in the relation of a mother, as equally affectionate in her attention, and absolute in her authority. |
| 13415 |
A singular mixture of love and fear attended upon his early remembrances as they were connected with her; and the fear that she might desire to resume the same absolute control over his motions a fear which her conduct of yesterday did not tend much to dissipate weighed heavily against the joy of this second meeting. |
| 13416 |
At the same time, his resolution was no more than that of a child, and must, necessarily, have gradually faded away under the operation both of precept and example, during his residence at the Castle of Avenel, but for the exhortations of Father Ambrose, who, in his lay estate, had been called Edward Glendinning. |
| 13417 |
Trust me well, that in the design in which thou dost embark, thou hast for thy partners the mighty and the valiant, the power of the church, and the pride of the noble. Succeed or fail, live or die, thy name shall be among those with whom success or failure is alike glorious, death or life alike desirable. |
| 13418 |
Even matters demanding more peremptory attention had been left neglected, in a manner which argued sloth or poverty in the extreme. The stream, undermining a part of the bank near an angle of the ruinous wall, had brought it down, with a corner turret, the ruins of which lay in the bed of the river. |
| 13419 |
I too, when I first saw him, after a long separation, felt as the worldly feel, and was half shaken in my purpose. But no wind can tear a leaf from the withered tree which has long been stripped of its foliage, and no mere human casualty can awaken the mortal feelings which have long slept in the calm of devotion. |
| 13420 |
His loss is indeed a perilous blow to our enterprise; for who remains behind possessing his far fetched experience, his self devoted zeal, his consummate wisdom, and his undaunted courage! He hath fallen with the church's standard in his hand, but God will raise up another to lift the blessed banner. |
| 13421 |
This apartment was the first he had observed in the mansion which was furnished with moveable seats, and with a wooden table, over which was laid a piece of tapestry. A carpet was spread on the floor, there was a grate in the chimney, and, in brief, the apartment had the air of being habitable and inhabited. |
| 13422 |
The matron then retreated with Magdalen Graeme through one of the casements of the apartment, that opened on a large broad balcony, which, with its ponderous balustrade, had once run along the whole south front of the building which faced the brook, and formed a pleasant and commodious walk in the open air. |
| 13423 |
But Roland Graeme, instead of tracing these peculiarities of character in the two old damps, only waited with great anxiety for the return of Catherine, expecting probably that the proposal of the fraternal embrace would be renewed, as his grandmother seemed disposed to carry matters with a high hand. |
| 13424 |
The water pitcher, already mentioned, furnished the only beverage. After a Latin grace, delivered by the Abbess, the guests sat down to their spare entertainment. The simplicity of the fare appeared to produce no distaste in the females, who ate of it moderately, but with the usual appearance of appetite. |
| 13425 |
The roof was graced with groined arches, and the wall with niches, from which the images had been pulled down. These remnants of architectural ornaments were strangely contrasted with the rude crib constructed for the cow in one corner of the apartment, and the stack of fodder which was piled beside it for her food. |
| 13426 |
This was spoken with a tone of deep and serious feeling, altogether different from the usual levity of Catherine's manner, and plainly showed, that beneath the giddiness of extreme youth and total inexperience, there lurked in her bosom a deeper power of sense and feeling, than her conduct had hitherto expressed. |
| 13427 |
She led the way in silence to the apartment which they had formerly occupied, and where there was prepared a small refection, as the Abbess termed it, consisting of milk and barley bread. Magdalen Graeme, summoned to take share in this collation, appeared from an adjoining apartment, but Catherine was seen no more. |
| 13428 |
Her discourse by the way, excepting on the few occasions in which her extreme love of her grandson found opportunity to display itself in anxiety for his health and accommodation, turned entirely on the duty of raising up the fallen honours of the Church, and replacing a Catholic sovereign on the throne. |
| 13429 |
Roland saw fragments of Gothic pillars richly carved, occupying the place of door posts to the meanest huts; and here and there a mutilated statue, inverted or laid on its side, made the door post, or threshold, of a wretched cow house. The church itself was less injured than the other buildings of the Monastery. |
| 13430 |
Amongst these, we must rank Ambrosius, the last Abbot of Kennaqubair, whose designs must be condemned, as their success would have riveted on Scotland the chains of antiquated superstition and spiritual tyranny; but whose talents commanded respect, and whose virtues, even from the enemies of his faith, extorted esteem. |
| 13431 |
Conscious of the peril in which they stood, and recalling, doubtless, the better days they had seen, there hung over his brethren an appearance of mingled terror, and grief, and shame, which induced them to hurry over the office in which they were engaged, as something at once degrading and dangerous. |
| 13432 |
The indifference of the clergy, even when their power was greatest, to the indecent exhibitions which they always tolerated, and sometimes encouraged, forms a strong contrast to the sensitiveness with which they regarded any serious attempt, by preaching or writing, to impeach any of the doctrines of the church. |
| 13433 |
I may observe, for example, the case of an apparitor sent to Borthwick from the Primate of Saint Andrews, to cite the lord of that castle, who was opposed by an Abbot of Unreason, at whose command the officer of the spiritual court was appointed to be ducked in a mill dam, and obliged to eat up his parchment citation. |
| 13434 |
It seems that the inhabitants of the castle were at this time engaged in the favourite sport of enacting the Abbot of Unreason, a species of high jinks, in which a mimic prelate was elected, who, like the Lord of Misrule in England, turned all sort of lawful authority, and particularly the church ritual, into ridicule. |
| 13435 |
A bear, a wolf, and one or two other wild animals, played their parts with the discretion of Snug the joiner; for the decided preference which they gave to the use of their hind legs, was sufficient, without any formal annunciation, to assure the most timorous spectators that they had to do with habitual bipeds. |
| 13436 |
The Abbot himself seemed at a stand; he felt no fear, but he was sensible of the danger of expressing his rising indignation, which he was scarcely able to suppress. He made a gesture with his hand as if commanding silence, which was at first only replied to by redoubled shouts, and peals of wild laughter. |
| 13437 |
When, however, the same motion, and as nearly in the same manner, had been made by Howleglas, it was immediately obeyed by his riotous companions, who expected fresh food for mirth in the conversation betwixt the real and mock Abbot, having no small confidence in the vulgar wit and impudence of their leader. |
| 13438 |
But, wild and wilful as these rioters were, they accompanied the retreat of the religionists with none of those shouts of contempt and derision with which they had at first hailed them. The Abbot's discourse had affected some of them with remorse, others with shame, and all with a transient degree of respect. |
| 13439 |
They remained silent until the last monk had disappeared through the side door which communicated with their dwelling place, and even then it cost some exhortations on the part of Howleglas, some caprioles of the hobby horse, and some wallops of the dragon, to rouse once more the rebuked spirit of revelry. |
| 13440 |
Moreover, these were but tales the monks used to gull us simple laymen withal; they knew that fairies and hobgoblins brought aves and paternosters into repute; but, now we have given up worship of images in wood and stone, methinks it were no time to be afraid of bubbles in the water, or shadows in the air. |
| 13441 |
Men say she must resign her crown to this little baby of a prince, for that they will trust her with it no longer. Our master has been as busy as his neighbours in all this work. If the Queen should come to her own again, Avenel Castle is like to smoke for it, unless he makes his bargain all the better. |
| 13442 |
Lord, why, Murray has the wind in his poop now, man, and flies so high and strong, that the devil a wing of them can match him No, no; there she is, and there she must lie, till Heaven send her deliverance, or till her son has the management of all But Murray will never let her loose again, he knows her too well. |
| 13443 |
Two of these parties, each headed by a person of importance, chanced to meet in the very centre of the street, or, as it was called, "the crown of the cause way," a post of honour as tenaciously asserted in Scotland, as that of giving or taking the wall used to be in the more southern part of the island. |
| 13444 |
She hastened towards a large door in the centre of the lower front of the court, pulled the bobbin till the latch flew up, and ensconced herself in the ancient mansion. But, if she fled like a doe, Roland Graeme followed with the speed and ardour of a youthful stag hound, loosed for the first time on his prey. |
| 13445 |
Two of the gallants, hastily drawing their weapons, passed on to the door by which Roland had entered the hall, and stationed themselves there as if to prevent his escape. The others advanced on Graeme, who had just sense enough to perceive that any attempt at resistance would be alike fruitless and imprudent. |
| 13446 |
But in a mighty chafe was my Lord of Morton, who, to say truth, looketh on such occasions altogether uncanny, and, as it were, fiendish; and he says to my lord, for I was in the chamber taking orders about a cast of hawks that are to be fetched from Darnoway they match your long winged falcons, friend Adam. |
| 13447 |
Roland Graeme's heart throbbed when he found himself so unexpectedly in the scene of Rizzio's slaughter, a catastrophe which had chilled with horror all even in that rude age, which had been the theme of wonder and pity through every cottage and castle in Scotland, and had not escaped that of Avenel. |
| 13448 |
Writing materials and papers were lying there in apparent disorder; and one or two of the privy counsellors who had lingered behind, assuming their cloaks, bonnets, and swords, and bidding farewell to the Regent, were departing slowly by a large door, on the opposite side to that through which the page entered. |
| 13449 |
Still he could neither stop his ears, nor with propriety leave the apartment; and while he thought of some means of signifying his presence, he had already heard so much, that, to have produced himself suddenly would have been as awkward, and perhaps as dangerous, as in quiet to abide the end of their conference. |
| 13450 |
Ralph has a bloody coxcomb, by a blow from a messan page whom nobody knew Dick Seyton of Windygowl is run through the arm, and two gallants of the Leslies have suffered phlebotomy. This is all the gentle blood which has been spilled in the revel; but a yeoman or two on both sides have had bones broken and ears chopped. |
| 13451 |
For your warmth of temper is known, and the presumption with which you intrude yourself into the quarrels of others; and, therefore, this is laid upon you as a penance by those who wish you well, and whose hand will influence your destiny for good or for evil. This is what I was charged to tell you. |
| 13452 |
Thirdly, and to conclude, as our worthy preacher says, beware of the pottle pot it has drenched the judgment of wiser men than you. I could bring some instances of it, but I dare say it needeth not; for if you should forget your own mishaps, you will scarce fail to remember mine And so farewell, my dear son. |
| 13453 |
Roland returned his good wishes, and failed not to send his humble duty to his kind Lady, charging the falconer, at the same time, to express his regret that he should have offended her, and his determination so to bear him in the world that she would not be ashamed of the generous protection she had afforded him. |
| 13454 |
They went thither accordingly, and Wing the wind, a favourite old domestic, who was admitted nearer to the Regent's person and privacy, than many whose posts were more ostensible, soon introduced Graeme into a small matted chamber, where he had an audience of the present head of the troubled State of Scotland. |
| 13455 |
Thou art, I have been told, a singularly apprehensive youth; and I perceive by thy look, that thou dost already understand what I would say on this matter. In this schedule your particular points of duty are set down at length but the sum required of you is fidelity I mean fidelity to myself and to the state. |
| 13456 |
You are going to the castle of a Douglas, where treachery never thrives the first moment of suspicion will be the last of your life. My kinsman, William Douglas, understands no raillery, and if he once have cause to think you false, you will waver in the wind from the castle battlements ere the sun set upon his anger. |
| 13457 |
The rest of his dress was a loose buff coat, which had once been lined with silk and adorned with embroidery, but which seemed much stained with travel, and damaged with cuts, received probably in battle. It covered a corslet, which had once been of polished steel, fairly gilded, but was now somewhat injured with rust. |
| 13458 |
But when he sent blunt old Lindesay, he knew he would speak to a misguided woman, as her former misdoings and her present state render necessary. I sought not this employment it has been thrust upon me; and I will not cumber myself with more form in the discharge of it, than needs must be tacked to such an occupation. |
| 13459 |
It perhaps contributed to increase this habitual temperament, that the Lady Lochleven had adopted uncommonly rigid and severe views of religion, imitating in her ideas of reformed faith the very worst errors of the Catholics, in limiting the benefit of the gospel to those who profess their own speculative tenets. |
| 13460 |
She was followed in her slow and melancholy exercise by two female attendants; but in the first glance which Roland Graeme bestowed upon one so illustrious by birth, so distinguished by her beauty, accomplishments, and misfortunes, he was sensible of the presence of no other than the unhappy Queen of Scotland. |
| 13461 |
Even those who feel themselves compelled to believe all, or much, of what her enemies laid to her charge, cannot think without a sigh upon a countenance expressive of anything rather than the foul crimes with which she was charged when living, and which still continue to shade, if not to blacken, her memory. |
| 13462 |
But be of good cheer; the crown of Scotland has many a fair manor, and your affectionate son, and my no less affectionate brother, will endow the good knight your husband with the best of them, ere Mary should be dismissed from this hospitable castle from your ladyship's lack of means to support the charges. |
| 13463 |
On her head she wore a small cap of lace, and a transparent white veil hung from her shoulders over the long black robe, in large loose folds, so that it could be drawn at pleasure over the face and person. She wore a cross of gold around her neck, and had her rosary of gold and ebony hanging from her girdle. |
| 13464 |
We may endure it no longer, and therefore, as a prince, to whom God hath refused the gift of hearkening to wise counsel, and on whose dealings and projects no blessing hath ever descended, we pray you to give way to other rule and governance of the land, that a remnant may yet be saved to this distracted realm. |
| 13465 |
With little ceremony the two nobles left the apartment, traversed the vestibule, and descended the winding stairs, the clash of Lindesay's huge sword being heard as it rang against each step in his descent. George Douglas followed them, after exchanging with Melville a gesture of surprise and sympathy. |
| 13466 |
Were I on yonder shore, with a fleet jennet and ten good and loyal knights around me, I would subscribe my sentence of eternal condemnation as soon as the resignation of my throne. But here, in the Castle of Lochleven, with deep water around me and you, my lords, beside me, I have no freedom of choice. |
| 13467 |
As he flatly refused to interfere, they determined to send the Lord Lindesay, one of the rudest and most violent of their own faction, with instructions, first to use fair persuasions, and if these did not succeed, to enter into harder terms. Knox associates Lord Ruthven with Lindesay in this alarming commission. |
| 13468 |
Had she not more of the false Gusian blood than of the royal race of Scotland in her veins, she had bidden them defiance to their teeth But it is all of the same complexion, and meanness is the natural companion of profligacy. I am discharged, forsooth, from intruding on her gracious presence this evening. |
| 13469 |
She is like an isle on the ocean, surrounded with shelves and quicksands; its verdure fair and inviting to the eye, but the wreck of many a goodly vessel which hath approached it too rashly. But for thee, my son, I fear nought; and we may not, with our honour, suffer her to eat without the attendance of one of us. |
| 13470 |
With the assistance of Roland Graeme, a table was suitably covered in the next or middle apartment, on which the domestics placed their burdens with great reverence, the steward and Douglas bending low when they had seen the table properly adorned, as if their royal prisoner had sat at the board in question. |
| 13471 |
When he observed that they had finished eating, he hastened to offer to the elder lady the silver ewer, basin, and napkin, with the ceremony and gravity which he would have used towards Mary herself. He next, with the same decorum, having supplied the basin with fair water, presented it to Catherine Seyton. |
| 13472 |
But if such was her mischievous purpose she was completely disappointed; for Roland Graeme, internally piquing himself on his self command, neither laughed nor was discomposed; and all that the maiden gained by her frolic was a severe rebuke from her companion, taxing her with mal address and indecorum. |
| 13473 |
As she raised her face slowly from the posture to which a momentary feeling of self rebuke had depressed it, her eyes encountered those of Roland, and became gradually animated with their usual spirit of malicious drollery, which not unnaturally excited a similar expression in those of the equally volatile page. |
| 13474 |
But such passing interviews neither afforded means nor opportunity to renew the discussion of the circumstances attending their earlier acquaintance, nor to permit Roland to investigate more accurately the mysterious apparition of the page in the purple velvet cloak at the hostelrie of Saint Michael's. |
| 13475 |
Perhaps his hopes soared a little higher, and he might nourish some expectation of a proselyte more distinguished in the person of the deposed Queen. But the pertinacity with which she and her female attendants refused to see or listen to him, rendered such hope, if he nourished it, altogether abortive. |
| 13476 |
The page found his situation not a little embarrassing; for, as every reader has experienced who may have chanced to be in such a situation, it is extremely difficult to maintain the full dignity of an offended person in the presence of a beautiful girl, whatever reason we may have for being angry with her. |
| 13477 |
He rose and retired slowly; and although the chaplain Mr. Henderson preached on that evening his best sermon against the errors of Popery, I would not engage that he was followed accurately through the train of his reasoning by the young proselyte, with a view to whose especial benefit he had handled the subject. |
| 13478 |
Yet beware, Roland Graeme, that thou, in serving thy mistress, hold fast the still higher service which thou owest to the peace of thy country, and the prosperity of her inhabitants; else, Roland Graeme, thou mayest be the very man upon whose head will fall the curses and assured punishment due to such work. |
| 13479 |
Then have we a civil war to phlebotomize us every year, and to prevent our population from starving for want of food and for the same purpose we have the Plague proposing us a visit, the best of all recipes for thinning a land, and converting younger brothers into elder ones. Well, each man in his vocation. |
| 13480 |
Much chattering and jangling therefore there was among jars, and bottles, and vials, ere the Doctor produced the salutiferous potion which he recommended so strongly, and a search equally long and noisy followed, among broken cans and cracked pipkins, ere he could bring forth a cup out of which to drink it. |
| 13481 |
The juggler had ceased his exertions of emitting flame and smoke, and was content to respire in the manner of ordinary mortals, rather than to play gratuitously the part of a fiery dragon. In short, all other sports were suspended, so eagerly did the revellers throng towards the place of representation. |
| 13482 |
They would err greatly, who should regulate their ideas of this dramatic exhibition upon those derived from a modern theatre; for the rude shows of Thespis were far less different from those exhibited by Euripides on the stage of Athens, with all its magnificent decorations and pomp of dresses and of scenery. |
| 13483 |
As for the page, to whom, the very idea of such an exhibition, simple as it was, was entirely new, he beheld it with the undiminished and ecstatic delight with which men of all ranks look for the first time on dramatic representation, and laughed, shouted, and clapped his hands as the performance proceeded. |
| 13484 |
The page hardly heard the end of the learned adage, or the charge which the Chamberlain gave him to be within reach, in case of the wains arriving suddenly, and sooner than expected so eager he was at once to shake himself free of his learned associate, and to satisfy his curiosity regarding the unknown damsel. |
| 13485 |
Cast, therefore, away doubt and fear, and prepare to do what religion calls for, what thy country demands of thee, what thy duty as a subject and as a servant alike require at your hand; and be assured, even the idlest or wildest wishes of thy heart will be most readily attained by following the call of thy duty. |
| 13486 |
Thy relation, our sister Magdalen, is a woman of excellent gifts, blessed with a zeal which neither doubt nor danger can quench; but yet it is not a zeal altogether according to knowledge; wherefore, my son, I would willingly be myself thy interrogator, and thy counsellor, in these days of darkness and stratagem. |
| 13487 |
Roland Graeme had nothing for it but to return, with such cheer as he might, to the place where his boat was moored on the beach, and resisted all offer of refreshment, although the Doctor promised that he should prelude the collation with a gentle appetizer a decoction of herbs, gathered and distilled by himself. |
| 13488 |
In this place, the ingenuity of the contriver and disposer of the walks had exerted itself to make the most of little space, and by screens, both of stone ornamented with rude sculpture, and hedges of living green, had endeavoured to give as much intricacy and variety as the confined limits of the garden would admit. |
| 13489 |
He had been completely awakened, first, by the sounds of the bell, and then by his own aroused vivacity of temper, and he found it difficult again to compose himself to slumber. At length, when his mind was wearied out with a maze of unpleasing meditation, he succeeded in coaxing himself into a broken slumber. |
| 13490 |
Lady Lochleven, stunned as it were by this last sarcasm, and not the less deeply incensed that she had drawn it upon herself, remained like a statue on the spot which she had occupied when she received an affront so flagrant. Dryfesdale and Randal endeavoured to rouse her to recollection by questions. |
| 13491 |
You never loved me less, Sir Steward, than you do at this moment. I know you will give me no real confidence, and I am resolved to accept no false protestations as current coin. Resume your old course suspect me as much and watch me as closely as you will, I bid you defiance you have met with your match. |
| 13492 |
During her visit to the prisoner, Roland had communicated to Catherine the tenor of the conversation he had had with her at the door of the apartment. The quick intelligence of that lively maiden instantly comprehended the outline of what was believed to have happened, but her prejudices hurried her beyond the truth. |
| 13493 |
It were a deserved deed to hang thee on the warder's tower; and yet in thy present mind, it were but giving a soul to Satan. I take thine offer, then Go hence here is my packet I will add to it but a line, to desire him to send me a faithful servant or two to complete the garrison. Let my son deal with you as he will. |
| 13494 |
On arriving at the village, the steward, although his disgrace had transpired, was readily accommodated with a horse, by the Chamberlain's authority; and the roads being by no means esteemed safe, he associated himself with Auchtermuchty, the common carrier, in order to travel in his company to Edinburgh. |
| 13495 |
Arrived near his favourite howss, not all the authority of Dryfesdale (much diminished indeed by the rumours of his disgrace) could prevail on the carrier, obstinate as the brutes which he drove, to pass on without his accustomed halt, for which the distance he had travelled furnished little or no pretence. |
| 13496 |
The next morning, at dinner time, an unusual incident occurred. While Lady Douglas of Lochleven performed her daily duty of assistant and taster at the Queen's table, she was told a man at arms had arrived, recommended by her son, but without any letter or other token than what he brought by word of mouth. |
| 13497 |
He let the Queen and a waiting woman out of the apartment where they were secured, and out of the tower itself, embarked with them in a small skiff, and rowed them to the shore. To prevent instant pursuit, he, for precaution's sake, locked the iron grated door of the tower, and threw the keys into the lake. |
| 13498 |
The unadorned beauties of the lovely woman, too, moved the military spectators more than the highest display of her regal state might; and what might have seemed too free in her mode of appearing before them, was more than atoned for by the enthusiasm of the moment and by the delicacy evinced in her hasty retreat. |
| 13499 |
For your sake, and for that of the holy faith we both profess, I could leave this plant, while it was yet tender, to the nurture of strangers ay, of enemies, by whom, perchance, his blood would have been poured forth as wine, had the heretic Glendinning known that he had in his house the heir of Julian Avenel. |
| 13500 |
The Abbot made no reply, but seemed lost in reflection; and his anxiety in some measure communicated itself to Roland Avenel, who ever, as their line of march led over a ridge or an eminence, cast an anxious look towards the towers of Glasgow, as if he expected to see symptoms of the enemy issuing forth. |
| 13501 |
It was now that the tempers of men were subjected to a sudden and a severe trial; and that those who had too presumptuously concluded that they would pass without combat, were something disconcerted, when, at once, and with little time to deliberate, they found themselves placed in front of a resolute enemy. |
| 13502 |
The black horseman also followed the Queen, waiting on her as closely as the shadow upon the light, but ever remaining at the distance of two or three yards he folded his arms on his bosom, turned his back to the battle, and seemed solely occupied by gazing on Mary, through the bars of his closed visor. |
| 13503 |
There were not many horsemen to pursue after them, and the Regent cried to save and not to kill, and Grange was never cruel, so that there were few slain and taken. And the only slaughter was at the first rencounter by the shot of the soldiers, which Grange had planted at the lane head behind some dikes. |
| 13504 |
But he guessed their purpose, and prayed them, on his death bed, to do no honours to the body of one as sinful as themselves; but to send his body and his heart to be buried in Avenel burial aisle, in the monastery of Saint Mary's, that the last Abbot of that celebrated house of devotion might sleep among its ruins. |
| 13505 |
Roland and Catherine, therefore, were united, spite of their differing faiths; and the White Lady, whose apparition had been infrequent when the house of Avenel seemed verging to extinction, was seen to sport by her haunted well, with a zone of gold around her bosom as broad as the baldrick of an Earl. |
| 13506 |
So, gentle reader, I bid you farewell, recommending you to such fare as the mountains of your own country produce; and I will only farther premise, that each Tale is preceded by a short introduction, mentioning the persons by whom, and the circumstances under which, the materials thereof were collected. |
| 13507 |
The author understood him to say he had even been in Dublin. Tired at length of being the object of shouts, laughter, and derision, David Ritchie resolved, like a deer hunted from the herd, to retreat to some wilderness, where he might have the least possible communication with the world which scoffed at him. |
| 13508 |
The sense of his deformity haunted him like a phantom. And the insults and scorn to which this exposed him, had poisoned his heart with fierce and bitter feelings, which, from other points in his character, do not appear to have been more largely infused into his original temperament than that of his fellow men. |
| 13509 |
He himself did not altogether discourage the idea; it enlarged his very limited circle of power, and in so far gratified his conceit; and it soothed his misanthropy, by increasing his means of giving terror or pain. But even in a rude Scottish glen thirty years back, the fear of sorcery was very much out of date. |
| 13510 |
We have stated that David Ritchie loved objects of natural beauty. His only living favourites were a dog and a cat, to which he was particularly attached, and his bees, which he treated with great care. He took a sister, latterly, to live in a hut adjacent to his own, but he did not permit her to enter it. |
| 13511 |
Indeed, in the simple and patriarchal state in which the country then was, persons in the situation of David and his sister were sure to be supported. They had only to apply to the next gentleman or respectable farmer, and were sure to find them equally ready and willing to supply their very moderate wants. |
| 13512 |
His head was of full human size, forming a frightful contrast with his height, which was considerably under four feet. It was thatched with no other covering than long matted red hair, like that of the felt of a badger in consistence, and in colour a reddish brown, like the hue of the heather blossom. |
| 13513 |
This would have been a circumstance of great indifference to the experienced sportsman, who could have walked blindfold over every inch of his native heaths, had it not happened near a spot, which, according to the traditions of the country, was in extremely bad fame, as haunted by supernatural appearances. |
| 13514 |
In this state of mind, he was very glad to hear a friendly voice shout in his rear, and propose to him a partner on the road. He slackened his pace, and was quickly joined by a youth well known to him, a gentleman of some fortune in that remote country, and who had been abroad on the same errand with himself. |
| 13515 |
It would have been madness to persevere in his attempt upon a being thus armed, and holding such desperate language, especially as it was plain he would have little aid from his companion, who had fairly left him to settle matters with the apparition as he could, and had proceeded a few paces on his way homeward. |
| 13516 |
Indeed, to judge from the difficulties he had already surmounted, he must have been of Herculean powers; for some of the stones he had succeeded in raising apparently required two men's strength to have moved them. Hobbie's suspicions began to revive, on seeing the preternatural strength he exerted. |
| 13517 |
This remarkable Dwarf gazed on the two youths in silence, with a dogged and irritated look, until Earnscliff, willing to soothe him into better temper, observed, "You are hard tasked, my friend; allow us to assist you." Elliot and he accordingly placed the stone, by their joint efforts, upon the rising wall. |
| 13518 |
His next labour was to cut rushes and thatch his dwelling, a task which he performed with singular dexterity. As he seemed averse to receive any aid beyond the occasional assistance of a passenger, materials suitable to his purpose, and tools, were supplied to him, in the use of which he proved to be skilful. |
| 13519 |
The recluse being seemed somewhat gratified by the marks of timid veneration with which an occasional passenger approached his dwelling, the look of startled surprise with which he surveyed his person and his premises, and the hurried step with which he pressed his retreat as he passed the awful spot. |
| 13520 |
Let me think I have mended the lot of one human being! Accept of such assistance as I have power to offer; do this for my sake, if not for your own, that when these evils arise, which you prophesy perhaps too truly, I may not have to reflect, that the hours of my happier time have been passed altogether in vain. |
| 13521 |
Sandy coloured hair, and reddish eyebrows, from under which looked forth his sharp grey eyes, completed the inauspicious outline of the horseman's physiognomy. He had pistols in his holsters, and another pair peeped from his belt, though he had taken some pains to conceal them by buttoning his doublet. |
| 13522 |
Even the Mucklestane Moor, with its broad bleak swells of barren grounds, interspersed with marshy pools of water, seemed to smile under the serene influence of the sky, just as good humour can spread a certain inexpressible charm over the plainest human countenance. The heath was in its thickest and deepest bloom. |
| 13523 |
It proved to be Earnscliff and his party, who had followed the track of the cattle as far as the English border, but had halted on the information that a considerable force was drawn together under some of the Jacobite gentlemen in that district, and there were tidings of insurrection in different parts of Scotland. |
| 13524 |
The ground upon which it stood was gently elevated above the marsh for the space of about a hundred yards, affording an esplanade of dry turf, which extended itself in the immediate neighbourhood of the tower; but, beyond which, the surface presented to strangers was that of an impassable and dangerous bog. |
| 13525 |
The owner of the tower and his inmates alone knew the winding and intricate paths, which, leading over ground that was comparatively sound, admitted visitors to his residence. But among the party which were assembled under Earnscliff's directions, there was more than one person qualified to act as a guide. |
| 13526 |
It seemed to the party that their motions were watched by some one concealed within this turret; and they were confirmed in their belief when, through a narrow loophole, a female hand was seen to wave a handkerchief, as if by way of signal to them. Hobbie was almost out of his senses with joy and eagerness. |
| 13527 |
The immense thickness of the walls, and the small size of the windows, might, for a time, have even resisted cannon shot. The entrance was secured, first, by a strong grated door, composed entirely of hammered iron, of such ponderous strength as seemed calculated to resist any force that could be brought against it. |
| 13528 |
Suddenly a person, known to her as a kinsman of Westburnflat, came riding very fast after the marauders, and told their leader, that his cousin had learnt from a sure hand that no luck would come of it, unless the lass was restored to her friends. After some discussion, the chief of the party seemed to acquiesce. |
| 13529 |
Sae just make me a minute, or missive, in ony form ye like, and I'se write it fair ower, and subscribe it before famous witnesses. Only, Elshie, I wad wuss ye to pit naething in't that may be prejudicial to my salvation; for I'll hae the minister to read it ower, and it wad only be exposing yoursell to nae purpose. |
| 13530 |
But other guests had, in the meanwhile, arrived at the castle; and, after the recent loss sustained by the owner had been related, wondered at, and lamented, the recollection of it was, for the present, drowned in the discussion of deep political intrigues, of which the crisis and explosion were momentarily looked for. |
| 13531 |
The unabashed audacity of this fellow, in daring to present himself in the house of a gentleman, to whom he had just offered so flagrant an insult, can only be accounted for by supposing him conscious that his share in carrying off Miss Vere was a secret, safe in her possession and that of her father. |
| 13532 |
The government are now unprovided of men and ammunition; in a few weeks they will have enough of both: the country is now in a flame against them; in a few weeks, betwixt the effects of self interest, of fear, and of lukewarm indifference, which are already so visible, this first fervour will be as cold as Christmas. |
| 13533 |
I must wander forth an impoverished and dishonoured man, without even the means of sustaining life, far less wealth sufficient to counterbalance the infamy which my countrymen, both those whom I desert and those whom I join, will attach to the name of the political renegade. It is not to be thought of. |
| 13534 |
For this purpose I wished, in case your objections to the match continued insurmountable, to have sent you privately for a few months to the convent of your maternal aunt at Paris. By a series of mistakes you have been brought from the place of secrecy and security which I had destined for your temporary abode. |
| 13535 |
On the way she felt inclined to retract the consent she had so hastily given to a plan so hopeless and extravagant. But as she passed in her descent a private door which entered into the chapel from the back stair, she heard the voice of the female servants as they were employed in the task of cleaning it. |
| 13536 |
In an evil hour, at the earnest request and entreaty of this friend, they joined a general party, where men of different political opinions were mingled, and where they drank deep. A quarrel ensued; the friend of the Recluse drew his sword with others, and was thrown down and disarmed by a more powerful antagonist. |
| 13537 |
By unceasing exertion, and repeated invocation of justice, he at length succeeded in obtaining his patron's freedom, and reinstatement in the management of his own property, to which was soon added that of his intended bride, who having died without male issue, her estates reverted to him, as heir of entail. |
| 13538 |
Where the bed should have been, there was a wooden frame, strewed with withered moss and rushes, the couch of the ascetic. The whole space of the cottage did not exceed ten feet by six within the walls; and its only furniture, besides what we have mentioned, was a table and two stools formed of rough deals. |
| 13539 |
Before the wars between England and Scotland had become so common and of such long duration, that the buildings along both sides of the Border were chiefly dedicated to warlike purposes, there had been a small settlement of monks at Ellieslaw, a dependency, it is believed by antiquaries, on the rich Abbey of Jedburgh. |
| 13540 |
They were few in number; for many had left the castle to prepare for the ensuing political explosion, and Ellieslaw was, in the circumstances of the case, far from being desirous to extend invitations farther than to those near relations whose presence the custom of the country rendered indispensable. |
| 13541 |
But a voice, as if issuing from the tomb of his deceased wife, called, in such loud and harsh accents as awakened every echo in the vaulted chapel, "Forbear!" All were mute and motionless, till a distant rustle, and the clash of swords, or something resembling it, was heard from the remote apartments. |
| 13542 |
The eyes of all began to be fixed on them, as soon as their own agitation and the bustle of the attendants had somewhat abated. Miss Vere kneeled beside the tomb of her mother, to whose statue her features exhibited a marked resemblance. She held the hand of the Dwarf, which she kissed repeatedly and bathed with tears. |
| 13543 |
Most of the other guests dispersed, after having separately endeavoured to impress on all who would listen to them their disapprobation of the plots formed against the government, or their regret for having engaged in them. Hobbie Elliot assumed the command of the castle for the night, and mounted a regular guard. |
| 13544 |
In this he may have thought that he was acting with extreme generosity, while, in the opinion of all impartial men, he will only be considered as having fulfilled a natural obligation, seeing that, in justice, if not in strict law, you must be considered as the heir of your mother, and I as your legal administrator. |
| 13545 |
It is remarkable, that, instead of informing me of these circumstances, that I might have had the relative of my late wife taken such care of as his calamitous condition required, Mr. Ratcliffe seems to have had such culpable indulgence for his irregular plans as to promise and even swear secrecy concerning them. |
| 13546 |
I shall willingly settle upon you the castle and manor of Ellieslaw, to show my parental affection and disinterested zeal for promoting your settlement in life. The annual interest of debts charged on the estate somewhat exceeds the income, even after a reasonable rent has been put upon the mansion and mains. |
| 13547 |
And here I must make you aware, that though I have to complain of Mr. Ratcliffe's conduct to me personally, I, nevertheless, believe him a just and upright man, with whom you may safely consult on your affairs, not to mention that to cherish his good opinion will be the best way to retain that of your kinsman. |
| 13548 |
If it be true, as Ratcliffe asserted, that the Dwarf's extreme misanthropy seemed to relax somewhat, under the consciousness of having diffused happiness among so many, the recollection of this circumstance might probably be one of his chief motives for refusing obstinately ever to witness their state of contentment. |
| 13549 |
But, on the bursting of that famous bubble, he was so much chagrined at being again reduced to a moderate annuity (although he saw thousands of his companions in misfortune absolutely starving), that vexation of mind brought on a paralytic stroke, of which he died, after lingering under its effects a few weeks. |
| 13550 |
Mr. Ratcliffe resided usually with the family at Ellieslaw, but regularly every spring and autumn he absented himself for about a month. On the direction and purpose of his periodical journey he remained steadily silent; but it was well understood that he was then in attendance on his unfortunate patron. |
| 13551 |
At length, on his return from one of these visits, his grave countenance, and deep mourning dress, announced to the Ellieslaw family that their benefactor was no more. Sir Edward's death made no addition to their fortune, for he had divested himself of his property during his lifetime, and chiefly in their favour. |
| 13552 |
Many believed that, having ventured to enter a consecrated building, contrary to his paction with the Evil One, he had been bodily carried off while on his return to his cottage; but most are of opinion that he only disappeared for a season, and continues to be seen from time to time among the hills. |
| 13553 |
On this he burst forth into a tremendous passion, took leave of the mother with maledictions, and as he left the apartment, turned back to say to his weak, if not fickle, mistresss: "For you, madam, you will be a world's wonder"; a phrase by which some remarkable degree of calamity is usually implied. |
| 13554 |
A lady, very nearly connected with the family, told the Author that she had conversed on the subject with one of the brothers of the bride, a mere lad at the time, who had ridden before his sister to church. He said her hand, which lay on his as she held her arm around his waist, was as cold and damp as marble. |
| 13555 |
It was then the custom, to prevent any coarse pleasantry which old times perhaps admitted, that the key of the nuptial chamber should be entrusted to the bridesman. He was called upon, but refused at first to give it up, till the shrieks became so hideous that he was compelled to hasten with others to learn the cause. |
| 13556 |
The marriage, according to this account, had been against her mother's inclination, who had given her consent in these ominous words: "Weel, you may marry him, but sair shall you repent it." I find still another account darkly insinuated in some highly scurrilous and abusive verses, of which I have an original copy. |
| 13557 |
Mr. Symson also poured forth his elegiac strains upon the fate of the widowed bridegroom, on which subject, after a long and querulous effusion, the poet arrives at the sound conclusion, that if Baldoon had walked on foot, which it seems was his general custom, he would have escaped perishing by a fall from horseback. |
| 13558 |
It is needless to point out to the intelligent reader that the witchcraft of the mother consisted only in the ascendency of a powerful mind over a weak and melancholy one, and that the harshness with which she exercised her superiority in a case of delicacy had driven her daughter first to despair, then to frenzy. |
| 13559 |
These may be opened and laid aside at pleasure; by amusing themselves with the perusal, the great will excite no false hopes; by neglecting or condemning them, they will inflict no pain; and how seldom can they converse with those whose minds have toiled for their delight without doing either the one or the other. |
| 13560 |
He particularly shone in painting horses, that being a favourite sign in the Scottish villages; and, in tracing his progress, it is beautiful to observe how by degrees he learned to shorten the backs and prolong the legs of these noble animals, until they came to look less like crocodiles, and more like nags. |
| 13561 |
It would be foreign to my present purpose to trace the steps by which Dick Tinto improved his touch, and corrected, by the rules of art, the luxuriance of a fervid imagination. The scales fell from his eyes on viewing the sketches of a contemporary, the Scottish Teniers, as Wilkie has been deservedly styled. |
| 13562 |
This was a small premium, yet, in the first burst of business, it more than sufficed for all Dick's moderate wants; so that he occupied an apartment at the Wallace Inn, cracked his jest with impunity even upon mine host himself, and lived in respect and observance with the chambermaid, hostler, and waiter. |
| 13563 |
And from a portrait of our landlord himself, grouped with his wife and daughters, in the style of Rubens, which suddenly appeared in the best parlour, it was evident that Dick had found some mode of bartering art for the necessaries of life. Nothing, however, is more precarious than resources of this nature. |
| 13564 |
We parted about a mile from the village, just as we heard the distant cheer of the boys which accompanied the mounting of the new symbol of the Wallace Head. Dick Tinto mended his pace to get out of hearing, so little had either early practice or recent philosophy reconciled him to the character of a sign painter. |
| 13565 |
He elbowed others, and was elbowed himself; and finally, by dint of intrepidity, fought his way into some notice, painted for the prize at the Institution, had pictures at the exhibition at Somerset House, and damned the hanging committee. But poor Dick was doomed to lose the field he fought so gallantly. |
| 13566 |
This was the very man who had now become, by purchase, proprietor of Ravenswood, and the domains of which the heir of the house now stood dispossessed. He was descended of a family much less ancient than that of Lord Ravenswood, and which had only risen to wealth and political importance during the great civil wars. |
| 13567 |
Even Abou Hassan, the most disinterested of all viceroys, forgot not, during his caliphate of one day, to send a douceur of one thousand pieces of gold to his own household; and the Scottish vicegerents, raised to power by the strength of their faction, failed not to embrace the same means of rewarding them. |
| 13568 |
The subordinate officers of the law affected little scruple concerning bribery. Pieces of plate and bags of money were sent in presents to the king's counsel, to influence their conduct, and poured forth, says a contemporary writer, like billets of wood upon their floors, without even the decency of concealment. |
| 13569 |
Even her husband, it is said, upon whose fortunes her talents and address had produced such emphatic influence, regarded her with respectful awe rather than confiding attachment; and report said, there were times when he considered his grandeur as dearly purchased at the expense of domestic thraldom. |
| 13570 |
Still, however, the leading and favourite interests of Sir William Ashton and his lady were the same, and they failed not to work in concert, although without cordiality, and to testify, in all exterior circumstances, that respect for each other which they were aware was necessary to secure that of the public. |
| 13571 |
The principal gentry of the country attended in the deepest mourning, and tempered the pace of their long train of horses to the solemn march befitting the occasion. Trumpets, with banners of crape attached to them, sent forth their long and melancholy notes to regulate the movements of the procession. |
| 13572 |
A relative observed him turn deadly pale, when, all rites being now duly observed, it became the duty of the chief mourner to lower down into the charnel vault, where mouldering coffins showed their tattered velvet and decayed plating, the head of the corpse which was to be their partner in corruption. |
| 13573 |
Accepting their adieus with an air of contempt which he could scarce conceal, Ravenswood at length beheld his ruinous habitation cleared of their confluence of riotous guests, and returned to the deserted hall, which now appeared doubly lonely from the cessation of that clamour to which it had so lately echoed. |
| 13574 |
At length, on the eve of a costly banquet, Ravenswood, who had watched his opportunity, introduced himself into the castle with a small band of faithful retainers. The serving of the expected feast was impatiently looked for by the guests, and clamorously demanded by the temporary master of the castle. |
| 13575 |
The sounds ceased, and the Keeper entered his daughter's apartment. The words she had chosen seemed particularly adapted to her character; for Lucy Ashton's exquisitely beautiful, yet somewhat girlish features were formed to express peace of mind, serenity, and indifference to the tinsel of wordly pleasure. |
| 13576 |
This was eminently the case with Lucy Ashton. Her politic, wary, and wordly father felt for her an affection the strength of which sometimes surprised him into an unusual emotion. Her elder brother, who trode the path of ambition with a haughtier step than his father, had also more of human affection. |
| 13577 |
The Lord Keeper's dignity is yet new; it must be borne as if we were used to its weight, worthy of it, and prompt to assert and maintain it. Before ancient authorities men bend from customary and hereditary deference; in our presence they will stand erect, unless they are compelled to prostrate themselves. |
| 13578 |
She is worth visiting, were it but to say you have seen a blind and paralytic old woman have so much acuteness of perception and dignity of manners. I assure you, she might be a countess from her language and behaviour. Come, you must go to see Alice; we are not a quarter of a mile from her cottage. |
| 13579 |
But it was her expression of countenance which chiefly struck the spectator, and induced most persons to address her with a degree of deference and civility very inconsistent with the miserable state of her dwelling, and which, nevertheless, she received with that easy composure which showed she felt it to be her due. |
| 13580 |
The bread and honey, however, deposited on a plantain leaf, was offered and accepted in all due courtesy. The Lord Keeper, still retaining the place which he had occupied on the decayed trunk of a fallen tree, looked as if he wished to prolong the interview, but was at a loss how to introduce a suitable subject. |
| 13581 |
For she had been familiarised with the appearance of the wil cattle during her walks in the chase; and it was not then, as it may be now, a necessary part of a young lady's demeanour to indulge in causeless tremors of the nerves. On the present occasion, however, she speedily found cause for real terror. |
| 13582 |
This was the most injudicious course he could have adopted, for, encouraged by the appearance of flight, the bull began to pursue them at full speed. Assailed by a danger so imminent, firmer courage than that of the Lord Keeper might have given way. But paternal tenderness, "love strong as death," sustained him. |
| 13583 |
This instantly recalled him to a sense of their situation: a glance at his daughter reminded him of the necessity of procuring her assistance. He called to the man, whom he concluded to be one of his foresters, to give immediate attention to Miss Ashton, while he himself hastened to call assistance. |
| 13584 |
No change took place upon the nymph's outward form; but as soon as the lengthening shadows made her aware that the usual hour of the vespers chime was passed, she tore herself from her lover's arms with a shriek of despair, bid him adieu for ever, and, plunging into the fountain, disappeared from his eyes. |
| 13585 |
Some secret sorrow, or the brooding spirit of some moody passion, had quenched the light and ingenuous vivacity of youth in a countenance singularly fitted to display both, and it was not easy to gaze on the stranger without a secret impression either of pity or awe, or at least of doubt and curiosity allied to both. |
| 13586 |
I say curiosity, for it is likely that the singularly restrained and unaccommodating manners of the Master of Ravenswood, so much at variance with the natural expression of his features and grace of his deportment, as they excited wonder by the contrast, had their effect in riveting her attention to the recollections. |
| 13587 |
While Lucy indulged in these dreams, she made frequent visits to old blind Alice, hoping it would be easy to lead her to talk on the subject which at present she had so imprudently admitted to occupy so large a portion of her thoughts. But Alice did not in this particular gratify her wishes and expectations. |
| 13588 |
He preached to his colleagues of the privy council the necessity of using conciliatory measures with young men, whose blood and temper were hot, and their experience of life limited. He did not hesitate to attribute some censure to the conduct of the officer, as having been unnecessarily irritating. |
| 13589 |
It was particularly remarkable that, contrary to his uniform practice, he made no special communication to Lady Ashton upon the subject of the tumult; and although he mentioned the alarm which Lucy had received from one of the wild cattle, yet he gave no detailed account of an incident so interesting and terrible. |
| 13590 |
In the present case, however, he did not use his skill to advantage; for, having lost temper at the cool and contemptuous manner in which the Master of Ravenswood had long refused, and at length granted, him satisfaction, and urged by his impatience, he adopted the part of an assailant with inconsiderate eagerness. |
| 13591 |
They rode for some time in silence, making such haste as the condition of Ravenswood's horse permitted, until night having gradually closed around them, they discontinued their speed, both from the difficulty of discovering their path, and from the hope that they were beyond the reach of pursuit or observation. |
| 13592 |
Craigie was a sort of gambling acquaintance; he saw my condition, and, as the devil is always at one's elbow, told me fifty lies about his credentials from Versailles, and his interest at Saint Germains, promised me a captain's commission at Paris, and I have been ass enough to put my thumb under his belt. |
| 13593 |
By adopting the cautious mode of approach recommended by the proprietor of this wild hold, they entered the courtyard in safety. But it was long ere the efforts of Ravenswood, though loudly exerted by knocking at the low browed entrance, and repeated shouts to Caleb to open the gate and admit them, received any answer. |
| 13594 |
The timorous, courteous glance which he threw around him, the effect of the partial light upon his white hair and illumined features, might have made a good painting; but our travellers were too impatient for security against the rising storm to permit them to indulge themselves in studying the picturesque. |
| 13595 |
Her looks of grateful acknowledgment, her words of affectionate courtesy, had been repelled with something which approached to disdain; and if the Master of Ravenswood had sustained wrongs at the hand of Sir William Ashton, his conscience told him they had been unhandsomely resented towards his daughter. |
| 13596 |
And albeit we have written this poor scroll with our own hand, and are well assured of the fidelity of our messenger, as him that is many ways bounden to us, yet so it is, that sliddery ways crave wary walking, and that we may not peril upon paper matters which we would gladly impart to you by word of mouth. |
| 13597 |
As he drew his bridle up with the bitter feeling that his poverty excluded him from the favourite recreation of his forefathers, and indeed their sole employment when not engaged in military pursuits, he was accosted by a well mounted stranger, who, unobserved, had kept near him during the earlier part of his career. |
| 13598 |
This personage seemed stricken in years. He wore a scarlet cloak, buttoning high upon his face, and his hat was unlooped and slouched, probably by way of defence against the weather. His horse, a strong and steady palfrey, was calculated for a rider who proposed to witness the sport of the day rather than to share it. |
| 13599 |
But Caleb was not in a humour to understand or admit any distinctions. He stuck to his original proposition with that dogged but convenient pertinacity which is armed against all conviction, and deaf to all reasoning. Bucklaw now came from the rear of the party, and demanded admittance in a very angry tone. |
| 13600 |
Craigengelt had his own purposes in fooling him up to the top of his bent; and having some low humour, much impudence, and the power of singing a good song, understanding besides thoroughly the disposition of his regained associate, he headily succeeded in involving him bumper deep in the festivity of the meeting. |
| 13601 |
The darkness of the sky seemed to increase, as if to supply the want of those mufflings which he laid aside with such evident reluctance. The impatience of Ravenswood increased also in proportion to the delay of the stranger, and he appeared to struggle under agitation, though probably from a very different cause. |
| 13602 |
It might seem as if the ancient founder of the castle were bestriding the thunderstorm, and proclaiming his displeasure at the reconciliation of his descendant with the enemy of his house. The consternation was general, and it required the efforts of both the Lord Keeper and Ravenswood to keep Lucy from fainting. |
| 13603 |
The train of little attentions, absolutely necessary to soothe the young lady's mind, and aid her in composing her spirits, necessarily threw the Master of Ravenswood into such an intercourse with her father as was calculated, for the moment at least, to break down the barrier of feudal enmity which divided them. |
| 13604 |
These were at first submitted to, with more or less readiness, by the inhabitants of the hamlet; for they had been so long used to consider the wants of the Baron and his family as having a title to be preferred to their own, that their actual independence did not convey to them an immediate sense of freedom. |
| 13605 |
It was in vain he strained his eloquence and ingenuity, and collected into one mass all arguments arising from antique custom and hereditary respect, from the good deeds done by the Lords of Ravenswood to the community of Wolf's Hope in former days, and from what might be expected from them in future. |
| 13606 |
As it was, he was compelled to turn his course backward to the castle; and there he remained for full half a day invisible and inaccessible even to Mysie, sequestered in his own peculiar dungeon, where he sat burnishing a single pewter plate and whistling "Maggie Lauder" six hours without intermission. |
| 13607 |
His wife, on the one side, in her pearlings and pudding sleeves, put the last finishing touch to her holiday's apparel, while she contemplated a very handsome and good humoured face in a broken mirror, raised upon the "bink" (the shelves on which the plates are disposed) for her special accommodation. |
| 13608 |
Her weapon was certainly the better, and her arm not the weakest of the two; so that Gilbert thought it safest to turn short off upon his wife, who had by this time hatched a sort of hysterical whine, which greatly moved the minister, who was in fact as simple and kind hearted a creature as ever breathed. |
| 13609 |
He intermitted even his dearly beloved chatter, for the purpose of making more haste, only assuring Mr. Lockhard that he had made the purveyor's wife give the wild fowl a few turns before the fire, in case that Mysie, who had been so much alarmed by the thunder, should not have her kitchen grate in full splendour. |
| 13610 |
Above all, he could not be observe that, whether from gratitude or from some other motive, he himself, in his deserted and unprovided hall, was as much the object of respectful attention to his guests as he would have been when surrounded by all the appliances and means of hospitality proper to his high birth. |
| 13611 |
I am not sure whether the pride of being found to outbalance, in virtue of his own personal merit, all the disadvantages of fortune, did not make as favourable an impression upon the haughty heart of the Master of Ravenswood as the conversation of the father and the beauty of Lucy Ashton. The hour of repose arrived. |
| 13612 |
He did not, however, feel so strong or so confident as to neglect any means of drawing recruits to his standard. The acquisition of the Lord Keeper was deemed of some importance, and a friend, perfectly acquainted with his circumstances and character, became responsible for his political conversion. |
| 13613 |
These documents had been selected with care, so as to irritate the natural curiosity of Ravenswood upon such a subject, without gratifying it, yet to show that Sir William Ashton had acted upon that trying occasion the part of an advocate and peacemaker betwixt him and the jealous authorities of the day. |
| 13614 |
Having furnished his host with such subjects for examination, the Lord Keeper went to the breakfast table, and entered into light conversation, addressed partly to old Caleb, whose resentment against the usurper of the Castle of Ravenswood began to be softened by his familiarity, and partly to his daughter. |
| 13615 |
The tears began already to start from Lucy's blue eyes at viewing this unexpected and moving scene. To see the Master, late so haughty and reserved, and whom she had always supposed the injured person, supplicating her father for forgiveness, was a change at once surprising, flattering, and affecting. |
| 13616 |
His prepossessions accordingly, however obstinate, were of a nature to give way before love and gratitude; and the real charms of the daughter, joined to the supposed services of the father, cancelled in his memory the vows of vengeance which he had taken so deeply on the eve of his father's funeral. |
| 13617 |
As for Lucy, when Ravenswood uttered the most passionate excuses for his ungrateful negligence, she could but smile through her tears, and, as she abandoned her hand to him, assure him, in broken accents, of the delight with which she beheld the complete reconciliation between her father and her deliverer. |
| 13618 |
It was necessary to communicate with Caleb on this occasion, and he found that faithful servitor in his sooty and ruinous den, greatly delighted with the departure of their visitors, and computing how long, with good management, the provisions which had been unexpended might furnish the Master's table. |
| 13619 |
Having once taken his resolution, the Master of Ravenswood was not of a character to hesitate or pause upon it. He abandoned himself to the pleasure he felt in Miss Ashton's company, and displayed an assiduous gallantry which approached as nearly to gaiety as the temper of his mind and state of his family permitted. |
| 13620 |
The evening was spent with freedom, and even cordiality; and Henry had so far overcome his first apprehensions, that he had settled a party for coursing a stag with the representative and living resemblance of grim Sir Malise of Ravenswood, called the Revenger. The next morning was the appointed time. |
| 13621 |
Ravenswood, as we know, was a High Churchman, or Episcopalian, and frequently objected to Lucy the fanaticism of some of her own communion, while she intimated, rather than expressed, horror at the latitudinarian principles which she had been taught to think connected with the prelatical form of church government. |
| 13622 |
Lucy felt a secret awe, amid all her affection for Ravenswood. His soul was of an higher, prouder character than those with whom she had hitherto mixed in intercourse; his ideas were more fierce and free; and he contemned many of the opinions which had been inculcated upon her as chiefly demanding her veneration. |
| 13623 |
But they stood pledged to each other; and Lucy only feared that her lover's pride might one day teach him to regret his attachment; Ravenswood, that a mind so ductile as Lucy's might, in absence or difficulties, be induced, by the entreaties or influence of those around her, to renounce the engagement she had formed. |
| 13624 |
The only natural explanation was, that he designed them for each other; while, in truth, his only motive was to temporise and procrastinate until he should discover the real extent of the interest which the Marquis took in Ravenswood's affairs, and the power which he was likely to possess of advancing them. |
| 13625 |
Although both ladies were accustomed to good society, yet, being pre determined to find out an agreeable and well behaved gentleman in Mr. Hayston's friend, they succeeded wonderfully in imposing on themselves. It is true that Craigengelt was now handsomely dressed, and that was a point of no small consequence. |
| 13626 |
The whole bore a resemblance partly to a castle, partly to a nobleman's seat; and though calculated, in some respects, for defence, evinced that it had been constructed under a sense of the power and security of the ancient Lords of Ravenswood. This pleasant walk commanded a beautiful and extensive view. |
| 13627 |
It was to the westward approach that the Lord Keeper, from a sort of fidgeting anxiety, his daughter, from complaisance to him, and Ravenswood, though feeling some symptoms of internal impatience, out of complaisance to his daughter, directed their eyes to see the precursors of the Marquis's approach. |
| 13628 |
He felt that he was caught "in the manner." That the company in which she had so unluckily surprised him was likely to be highly distasteful to her, there was no question; and the only hope which remained for him was her high sense of dignified propriety, which, he trusted, might prevent a public explosion. |
| 13629 |
The Marquis's laced charioteer no sooner found the pas d'avance was granted to him than he resumed a more deliberate pace, at which he advanced under the embowering shade of the lofty elms, surrounded by all the attendants; while the carriage of Lady Ashton followed, still more slowly, at some distance. |
| 13630 |
Her dispute with Sir William, and a subsequent interview with her daughter, had not prevented her from attending to the duties of her toilette. She appeared in full dress; and, from the character of her countenance and manner, well became the splendour with which ladies of quality then appeared on such occasions. |
| 13631 |
The terms in which Lady Ashton's billet was couched rendered it impossible for him, without being deficient in that spirit of which he perhaps had too much, to remain an instant longer within its walls. The Marquis, who had his share in the affront, was, nevertheless, still willing to make some efforts at conciliation. |
| 13632 |
The path in which he found himself led him to the Mermaiden's Fountain, and to the cottage of Alice; and the fatal influence which superstitious belief attached to the former spot, as well as the admonitions which had been in vain offered to him by the inhabitant of the latter, forced themselves upon his memory. |
| 13633 |
But the apparition, whether it was real or whether it was the creation of a heated and agitated imagination, returned not again; and he found his horse sweating and terrified, as if experiencing that agony of fear with which the presence of a supernatural being is supposed to agitate the brute creation. |
| 13634 |
He then took his place in an old carved oaken chair, ornamented with his own armorial bearings, which Alice had contrived to appropriate to her own use in the pillage which took place among creditors, officers, domestics, and messengers of the law when his father left Ravenswood Castle for the last time. |
| 13635 |
His own were sad enough, without the exaggeration of supernatural terror, since he found himself transferred from the situation of a successful lover of Lucy Ashton, and an honoured and respected friend of her father, into the melancholy and solitary guardian of the abandoned and forsaken corpse of a common pauper. |
| 13636 |
He was relieved, however, from his sad office sooner that he could reasonably have expected, considering the distance betwixt the hut of the deceased and the village, and the age and infirmities of three old women who came from thence, in military phrase, to relieve guard upon the body of the defunct. |
| 13637 |
But the vision of that morning, whether real or imaginary, had impressed his mind with a superstitious feeling which he in vain endeavoured to shake off. The nature of the business which awaited him at the little inn, called Tod's Hole, where he soon after arrived, was not of a kind to restore his spirits. |
| 13638 |
It was situated in the nook formed by the eddying sweep of a stream, which issued from the adjoining hills. A rude cavern in an adjacent rock, which, in the interior, was cut into the shape of a cross, formed the hermitage, where some Saxon saint had in ancient times done penance, and given name to the place. |
| 13639 |
I cannot guess what she means. A more honourable connexion she could not form, that's certain. As for money and land, that used to be her husband's business rather than hers; I really think she hates you for having the rank which her husband has not, and perhaps for not having the lands that her goodman has. |
| 13640 |
The Marquis expanded with pleasure on the power which probably incidents were likely to assign to him, and on the use which eh hoped to make of it in serving his kinsman Ravenswood. Ravenswood could but repeat the gratitude which he really felt, even when he considered the topic as too long dwelt upon. |
| 13641 |
We need not enter into the nature and purpose of this commission, farther than to acquaint our readers that the charge was in prospect highly acceptable to the Master of Ravenswood, who hailed with pleasure the hope of emerging from his present state of indigence and inaction into independence and honourable exertion. |
| 13642 |
Ravenswood no sooner found himself alone than, impelled by a thousand feelings, he left the apartment, the house, and the village, and hastily retraced his steps to the brow of the hill, which rose betwixt the village and screened it from the tower, in order to view the final fall of the house of his fathers. |
| 13643 |
They sat down to an excellent supper. No invitation could prevail on Mr. and Mrs. Girder, even in their own house, to sit down at table with guests of such high quality. They remained standing in the apartment, and acted the part of respectful and careful attendants on the company. Such were the manners of the time. |
| 13644 |
The whole had somewhat of a gloomy aspect; but the fire, composed of old pitch barrel staves, blazed merrily up the chimney; the bed was decorated with linen of most fresh and dazzling whiteness, which had never before been used, and might, perhaps, have never been used at all, but for this high occasion. |
| 13645 |
To counterbalance those foreign sentinels, there mounted guard on the other side of the mirror two stout warders of Scottish lineage; a jug, namely, of double ale, which held a Scotch pint, and a quaigh, or bicker, of ivory and ebony, hooped with silver, the work of John Girder's own hands, and the pride of his heart. |
| 13646 |
It only remains to say, that the Marquis's valet was in attendance, displaying his master's brocaded nightgown, and richly embroidered velvet cap, lined and faced with Brussels lace, upon a huge leathern easy chair, wheeled round so as to have the full advantage of the comfortable fire which we have already mentioned. |
| 13647 |
This could not be done without an ample breakfast, in which cold meat and hot meat, and oatmeal flummery, wine and spirits, and milk varied by every possible mode of preparation, evinced the same desire to do honour to their guests which had been shown by the hospitable owners of the mansion upon the evening before. |
| 13648 |
The Marquis left a broad piece for the gratification of John Girder's household, which he, the said John, was for some time disposed to convert to his own use; Dingwall, the writer, assuring him he was justified in so doing, seeing he was the disburser of those expenses which were the occasion of the gratification. |
| 13649 |
If not, he still trusted that his absence from Scotland upon an important and honourable mission might give time for prejudices to die away; while he hoped and trusted Miss Ashton's constancy, on which he had the most implicit reliance, would baffle any effort that might be used to divert her attachment. |
| 13650 |
To each of these three letters the Master of Ravenswood received an answer, but by different means of conveyance, and certainly couched in very different styles. Lady Ashton answered his letter by his own messenger, who was not allowed to remain at Ravenswood a moment longer than she was engaged in penning these lines. |
| 13651 |
Sir, it is not a flightering blink of prosperity which can change my constant opinion in this regard, seeing it has been my lot before now, like holy David, to see the wicked great in power and flourishing like a green bay tree; nevertheless I passed, and they were not, and the place thereof knew them no more. |
| 13652 |
Her son, Colonel Douglas Ashton, had embraced her prejudices in the fullest extent, and it was impossible for Sir William to adopt a course disagreeable to them without a fatal and irreconcilable breach in his family; which was not at present to be thought of. Time, the great physician, he hoped, would mend all. |
| 13653 |
He made many attempts, notwithstanding her prohibition, to convey letters to Miss Ashton, and even to obtain an interview; but his plans were frustrated, and he had only the mortification to learn that anxious and effectual precautions had been taken to prevent the possibility of their correspondence. |
| 13654 |
The other gentlemen left the room, and in a short time Lady Ashton, followed by her daughter, entered the apartment. She appeared, as he had seen her on former occasions, rather composed than agitated; but a nicer judge than he could scarce have determined whether her calmness was that of despair or of indifference. |
| 13655 |
Young women of the higher rank seldom mingled in society until after marriage, and, both in law and fact, were held to be under the strict tutelage of their parents, who were too apt to enforce the views for their settlement in life without paying any regard to the inclination of the parties chiefly interested. |
| 13656 |
As this measure, enforced with all the authority of power, was new in Scottish judicial proceedings, though now so frequently resorted to, it was exclaimed against by the lawyers on the opposite side of politics, as an interference with the civil judicature of the country, equally new, arbitrary, and tyrannical. |
| 13657 |
And if it thus affected even strangers connected with them only by political party, it may be guessed what the Ashton family themselves said and thought under so gross a dispensation. Sir William, still more worldly minded than he was timid, was reduced to despair by the loss by which he was threatened. |
| 13658 |
Should he not have remembered this, and requited it with at least some moderate degree of procrastination in the assertion of his own alleged rights? I would have forfeited for him double the value of these lands, which he pursues with an ardour that shows he has forgotten how much I am implicated in the matter. |
| 13659 |
Her fairy, she said, like Caliban's, was a harmless fairy. Nevertheless, she "spaed fortunes," read dreams, composed philtres, discovered stolen goods, and made and dissolved matches as successfully as if, according to the belief of the whole neighbourhood, she had been aided in those arts by Beelzebub himself. |
| 13660 |
The old Sycorax saw her advantage, and gradually narrowed her magic circle around the devoted victim on whose spirit she practised. Her legends began to relate to the fortunes of the Ravenswood family, whose ancient grandeur and portentous authority credulity had graced with so many superstitious attributes. |
| 13661 |
Her temper became unequal, her health decayed daily, her manners grew moping, melancholy, and uncertain. Her father, guessing partly at the cause of these appearances, made a point of banishing Dame Gourlay from the castle; but the arrow was shot, and was rankling barb deep in the side of the wounded deer. |
| 13662 |
This resembled, in the divine's opinion, the union of a Moabitish stranger with a daughter of Zion. But with all the more severe prejudices and principles of his sect, Bide the Bent possessed a sound judgment, and had learnt sympathy even in that very school of persecution where the heart is so frequently hardened. |
| 13663 |
It was further determined that the marriage should be solemnised upon the fourth day after signing the articles, a measure adopted by Lady Ashton, in order that Lucy might have as little time as possible to recede or relapse into intractability. There was no appearance, however, of her doing either. |
| 13664 |
To an eye so unobserving as that of Bucklaw, her demeanour had little more of reluctance than might suit the character of a bashful young lady, who, however, he could not disguise from himself, was complying with the choice of her friends rather than exercising any personal predilection in his favour. |
| 13665 |
The business of the day now went forward: Sir William Ashton signed the contract with legal solemnity and precision; his son, with military nonchalance; and Bucklaw, having subscribed as rapidly as Craigengelt could manage to turn the leaves, concluded by wiping his pen on that worthy's new laced cravat. |
| 13666 |
Yet afterwards, in the course of the ensuing day, she seemed to have recovered, not merely her spirits and resolution, but a sort of flighty levity, that was foreign to her character and situation, and which was at times chequered by fits of deep silence and melancholy and of capricious pettishness. |
| 13667 |
As for the young men, Bucklaw and Colonel Ashton, they protested that, after what had happened, it would be most dishonourable to postpone for a single hour the time appointed for the marriage, as it would be generally ascribed to their being intimidated by the intrusive visit and threats of Ravenswood. |
| 13668 |
There was a light in her eyes and a colour in her cheek which had not been kindled for many a day, and which, joined to her great beauty, and the splendour of her dress, occasioned her entrance to be greeted with an universal murmur of applause, in which even the ladies could not refrain from joining. |
| 13669 |
Thus accompanied with the attendance both of rich and poor, Lucy returned to her father's house. Bucklaw used his privilege of riding next to the bride, but, new to such a situation, rather endeavoured to attract attention by the display of his person and horsemanship, than by any attempt to address her in private. |
| 13670 |
The marriage guests, on the present occasion, were regaled with a banquet of unbounded profusion, the relics of which, after the domestics had feasted in their turn, were distributed among the shouting crowd, with as many barrels of ale as made the hilarity without correspond to that within the castle. |
| 13671 |
At length the social party broke up at a late hour, and the gentlemen crowded into the saloon, where, enlivened by wine and the joyful occasion, they laid aside their swords and handed their impatient partners to the floor. The music already rung from the gallery, along the fretted roof of the ancient state apartment. |
| 13672 |
The obnoxious picture was immediately removed, and the ball was opened by Lady Ashton, with a grace and dignity which supplied the charms of youth, and almost verified the extravagant encomiums of the elder part of the company, who extolled her performance as far exceeding the dancing of the rising generation. |
| 13673 |
The bridal guests waited their return in stupified amazement. Arrived at the door of the apartment, Colonel Ashton knocked and called, but received no answer except stifled groans. He hesitated no longer to open the door of the apartment, in which he found opposition from something which lay against it. |
| 13674 |
When he had succeeded in opening it, the body of the bridegroom was found lying on the threshold of the bridal chamber, and all around was flooded with blood. A cry of surprise and horror was raised by all present; and the company, excited by this new alarm, began to rush tumultuously towards the sleeping apartment. |
| 13675 |
This condition being acceded to on the part of Colonel Ashton and his father, the rest of the bridegroom's friends left the castle, notwithstanding the hour and the darkness of the night. The cares of the medical man were next employed in behalf of Miss Ashton, whom he pronounced to be in a very dangerous state. |
| 13676 |
The fatal weapon was found in the chamber smeared with blood. It was the same poniard which Henry should have worn on the wedding day, and the unhappy sister had probably contrived to secrete on the preceding evening, when it had been shown to her among other articles of preparation for the wedding. |
| 13677 |
He dismissed Craigengelt from his society, but not without such a provision as, if well employed, might secure him against indigence and against temptation. Bucklaw afterwards went abroad, and never returned to Scotland; nor was he known ever to hint at the circumstances attending his fatal marriage. |
| 13678 |
An aisle adjacent to the church had been fitted up by Sir William Ashton as a family cemetery; and here, in a coffin bearing neither name nor date, were consigned to dust the remains of what was once lovely, beautiful, and innocent, though exasperated to frenzy by a long tract of unremitting persecution. |
| 13679 |
Colonel Ashton returned to the castle with the funeral guests, but found a pretext for detaching himself from them in the evening, when, changing his dress to a riding habit, he rode to Wolf's Hope, that night, and took up his abode in the little inn, in order that he might be ready for his rendezvous in the morning. |
| 13680 |
The gold fell unheeded on the pavement, for the old man ran to observe the course which was taken by his master, who turned to the left down a small and broken path, which gained the sea shore through a cleft in the rock, and led to a sort of cove where, in former times, the boats of the castle were wont to be moored. |
| 13681 |
There were few marks of modern improvement. The environs of the place intimated neither the solitude of decay nor the bustle of novelty; the houses were old, but in good repair; and the beautiful little river murmured freely on its way to the left of the town, neither restrained by a dam nor bordered by a towing path. |
| 13682 |
Nothing was more natural than that the traveller should suspend a journey, which there was nothing to render hurried, to pay a visit to an old friend under such agreeable circumstances. The fresh horses, therefore, had only the brief task of conveying the General's travelling carriage to Woodville Castle. |
| 13683 |
Music, in which the young lord was a proficient, succeeded to the circulation of the bottle; cards and billiards, for those who preferred such amusements, were in readiness; but the exercise of the morning required early hours, and not long after eleven o'clock the guests began to retire to their several apartments. |
| 13684 |
The toilet, too, with its mirror, turbaned after the manner of the beginning of the century, with a coiffure of murrey coloured silk, and its hundred strange shaped boxes, providing for arrangements which had been obsolete for more than fifty years, had an antique, and in so far a melancholy, aspect. |
| 13685 |
He looked fatigued and feverish. His hair, the powdering and arrangement of which was at this time one of the most important occupations of a man's whole day, and marked his fashion as much as in the present time the tying of a cravat, or the want of one, was dishevelled, uncurled, void of powder, and dank with dew. |
| 13686 |
The body of some atrocious criminal seemed to have been given up from the grave, and the soul restored from the penal fire, in order to form for a space a union with the ancient accomplice of its guilt. I started up in bed, and sat upright, supporting myself on my palms, as I gazed on this horrible spectre. |
| 13687 |
It was some time before I dared open my eyes, lest they should again encounter the horrible spectacle. When, however, I summoned courage to look up, she was no longer visible. My first idea was to pull my bell, wake the servants, and remove to a garret or a hay loft, to be ensured against a second visitation. |
| 13688 |
Nay, I will confess the truth that my resolution was altered, not by the shame of exposing myself, but by the fear that, as the bell cord hung by the chimney, I might, in making my way to it, be again crossed by the fiendish hag, who, I figured to myself, might be still lurking about some corner of the apartment. |
| 13689 |
I must confess, my dear Browne, that your arrival yesterday, agreeable to me for a thousand reasons besides, seemed the most favourable opportunity of removing the unpleasant rumours which attached to the room, since your courage was indubitable, and your mind free of any preoccupation on the subject. |
| 13690 |
This name he distinguished by so many bold and desperate achievements, that he retained it even after his father's death, and is mentioned under it both in authentic records and in tradition. Some of his feats are recorded in the minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, and others are mentioned in contemporary chronicles. |
| 13691 |
With this weapon, and by means of his own strength and address, the Laird's Jock maintained the reputation of the best swordsman on the Border side, and defeated or slew many who ventured to dispute with him the formidable title. But years pass on with the strong and the brave as with the feeble and the timid. |
| 13692 |
In process of time the Laird's Jock grew incapable of wielding his weapons, and finally of all active exertion, even of the most ordinary kind. The disabled champion became at length totally bedridden, and entirely dependent for his comfort on the pious duties of an only daughter, his perpetual attendant and companion. |
| 13693 |
The young men gazed on his large form and powerful make as upon some antediluvian giant who had survived the destruction of the Flood. But the sound of the trumpets on both sides recalled the attention of every one to the lists, surrounded as they were by numbers of both nations eager to witness the event of the day. |
| 13694 |
The combatants met in the lists. It is needless to describe the struggle: the Scottish champion fell. Foster, placing his foot on his antagonist, seized on the redoubted sword, so precious in the eyes of its aged owner, and brandished it over his head as a trophy of his conquest. The English shouted in triumph. |
| 13695 |
The death of his son had no part in his sorrow. If he thought of him at all, it was as the degenerate boy through whom the honour of his country and clan had been lost; and he died in the course of three days, never even mentioning his name, but pouring out unintermitted lamentations for the loss of his noble sword. |
| 13696 |
I conceive that the moment when the disabled chief was roused into a last exertion by the agony of the moment is favourable to the object of a painter. He might obtain the full advantage of contrasting the form of the rugged old man, in the extremity of furious despair, with the softness and beauty of the female form. |
| 13697 |
The fatal field might be thrown into perspective, so as to give full effect to these two principal figures, and with the single explanation that the piece represented a soldier beholding his son slain, and the honour of his country lost, the picture would be sufficiently intelligible at the first glance. |
| 13698 |
But Heaven is always just; the party is repriv'd, and do acknowledge the hand of God in it, as is rightly apply'd, and as justly sensible of their deliverance in that the foundation which the councillor saith was already so well laid, is now turned up, and what he calls day dreams are come to passe. |
| 13699 |
And that posterity are safely arrived in their ports, and masters of that mighty navy, their enemies so much encreased to keep them out with. The eldest sits upon the throne, his place by birthright and descent, "Pacatumque regit Patriis virtutibus orbem;" upon which throne long may he sit, and reign in peace. |
| 13700 |
The two brothers, though fully awaked, and heard them call, were so amazed, that they made no answer until Captain Cockaine had recovered the boldness to call very loud, and came unto the bed side; then faintly first, after some more assurance, they came to understand one another, and comforted the lawyer. |
| 13701 |
After their rising, and the maid come in to make the fire, they looked about the rooms; they found fourscore stones brought in that night, and going to lay them together in the corner where the glass (before mentioned) had been swept up, they found that every piece of glass had been carried away that night. |
| 13702 |
When this was done, the event showed it would have been rather rash to have adopted the facts exclusively on the royal authority; as the fish, however curiously inserted into his native element, splashed the water over the hall, and destroyed the credit of four ingenious essayists, besides a large Turkey carpet. |
| 13703 |
The devil, on one occasion, brought them a warming pan; on another, pelted them with stones and horses' bones. Tubs of water were emptied on them in their sleep; and so many other pranks of the same nature played at their expense, that they broke up housekeeping, and left their intended spoliation only half completed. |
| 13704 |
The audience, like the building, was abated in splendour. None of the ancient and habitual worshippers during peaceful times, were now to be seen in their carved galleries, with hands shadowing their brows, while composing their minds to pray where their fathers had prayed, and after the same mode of worship. |
| 13705 |
There were among the congregation, however, one or two that, by their habits and demeanour, seemed country gentlemen of consideration, and there were also present some of the notables of the town of Woodstock, cutlers or glovers chiefly, whose skill in steel or leather had raised them to a comfortable livelihood. |
| 13706 |
These men of war had their bandeliers, with ammunition, slung around them, and rested on their pikes and muskets. They, too, had their peculiar doctrines on the most difficult points of religion, and united the extravagances of enthusiasm with the most determined courage and resolution in the field. |
| 13707 |
He was a tall thin man, with an adust complexion, and the vivacity of his eye indicated some irascibility of temperament. His dress was brown, not black, and over his other vestments he wore, in honour of Calvin, a Geneva cloak of a blue colour, which fell backwards from his shoulders as he posted on to the pulpit. |
| 13708 |
Innocent pleasures of what kind soever they held in suspicion and contempt, and innocent mirth they abominated. It was, however, a cast of mind that formed men for great and manly actions, as it adopted principle, and that of an unselfish character, for the ruling motive, instead of the gratification of passion. |
| 13709 |
The individual, whose pretensions to sanctity, written as they were upon his brow and gait, have given rise to the above digression, reached at length the extremity of the principal street, which terminates upon the park of Woodstock. A battlemented portal of Gothic appearance defended the entrance to the avenue. |
| 13710 |
An immense gate, composed of rails of hammered iron, with many a flourish and scroll, displaying as its uppermost ornament the ill fated cipher of C. R., was now decayed, being partly wasted with rust, partly by violence. The stranger paused, as if uncertain whether he should demand or assay entrance. |
| 13711 |
The situation which the Lodge occupied was a piece of flat ground, now planted with sycamores, not far from the entrance to that magnificent spot where the spectator first stops to gaze upon Blenheim, to think of Marlborough's victories, and to applaud or criticise the cumbrous magnificence of Vanburgh's style. |
| 13712 |
The soldier took advantage of their state of abstraction, and, desirous at once to watch their motions and avoid their observation, he glided beneath one of the huge trees which skirted the path, and whose boughs, sweeping the ground on every side, ensured him against discovery, unless in case of an actual search. |
| 13713 |
In the meantime, the gentleman and lady continued to advance, directing their course to a rustic seat, which still enjoyed the sunbeams, and was placed adjacent to the tree where the stranger was concealed. The man was elderly, yet seemed bent more by sorrow and infirmity than by the weight of years. |
| 13714 |
The young lady, by whom this venerable gentleman seemed to be in some degree supported as they walked arm in arm, was a slight and sylphlike form, with a person so delicately made, and so beautiful in countenance, that it seemed the earth on which she walked was too grossly massive a support for a creature so aerial. |
| 13715 |
Nay, he has good hope, that if you follow his counsel, the committee may, through the interest he possesses, be inclined to remove the sequestration of your estate on a moderate line. Thus says my uncle; and having communicated his advice, I have no occasion to urge your patience with farther argument. |
| 13716 |
It was a large wolf dog, in strength a mastiff, in form and almost in fleetness a greyhound. Bevis was the noblest of the kind which ever pulled down a stag, tawny coloured like a lion, with a black muzzle and black feet, just edged with a line of white round the toes. He was as tractable as he was strong and bold. |
| 13717 |
There was a short passage of ten feet, which had been formerly closed by a portcullis at the inner end, while three loopholes opened on either side, through which any daring intruder might be annoyed, who, having surprised the first gate, must be thus exposed to a severe fire before he could force the second. |
| 13718 |
There was a clumsy staircase at either side of it, composed of entire logs of a foot square; and in each angle of the ascent was placed, by way of sentinel, the figure of a Norman foot soldier, having an open casque on his head, which displayed features as stern as the painter's genius could devise. |
| 13719 |
The formal and marked angles, points and projections of the armour, were a good subject for the harsh pencil of that early school. The face of the knight was, from the fading of the colours, pale and dim, like that of some being from the other world, yet the lines expressed forcibly pride and exultation. |
| 13720 |
Richard foretold, from the desertion of his favourite, his approaching deposition. The dog was afterwards kept at Woodstock, and Bevis is said to be of his breed, which was heedfully kept up. What I might foretell of mischief from his desertion, I cannot guess, but my mind assures me it bodes no good. |
| 13721 |
The knight advanced to the entrance; but the ingenuity of the architect, for want of a better lock to the door, which itself was but of wattles curiously twisted, had contrived a mode of securing the latch on the inside with a pin, which prevented it from rising; and in this manner it was at present fastened. |
| 13722 |
But, with forbearance far more than this requires, I can refuse at your hands the gift, which, most of all things under heaven, I should desire to obtain, because duty calls upon her to sustain and comfort you, and because it were sin to permit you, in your blindness, to spurn your comforter from your side. |
| 13723 |
Alice had less quiet rest in old Goody Jellycot's wicker couch, in the inner apartment; while the dame and Phoebe slept on a mattress, stuffed with dry leaves, in the same chamber, soundly as those whose daily toil gains their daily bread, and, whom morning calls up only to renew the toils of yesterday. |
| 13724 |
The times were dangerous and unsettled; the roads full of disbanded soldiers, and especially of royalists, who made their political opinions a pretext for disturbing the country with marauding parties and robberies. Deer stealers also, who are ever a desperate banditti, had of late infested Woodstock Chase. |
| 13725 |
In this opposition, his father and he had anxiously concurred, nor had the arguments, nor even the half expressed threats of Cromwell, induced them to flinch from that course, far less to permit their names to be introduced into the commission nominated to sit in judgment on that memorable occasion. |
| 13726 |
After the fight of Worcester, in particular, he was among the number of those officers on whom Oliver, rather considering the actual and practical extent of his own power, than the name under which he exercised it, was with difficulty withheld from imposing the dignity of Knights Bannerets at his own will and pleasure. |
| 13727 |
This, he thought, could only be accomplished by means of Cromwell, and the greater part of England was of the same opinion. It is true, that, in thus submitting to the domination of a successful soldier, those who did so, forgot the principles upon which they had drawn the sword against the late King. |
| 13728 |
In the meanwhile, however, circumstances compelled him to make trial of the General's friendship. The sequestration of Woodstock, and the warrant to the Commissioners to dispose of it as national property, had been long granted, but the interest of the elder Everard had for weeks and months deferred its execution. |
| 13729 |
Then he naturally passed to the disparking and destroying of the royal residences of England, made a woful picture of the demolition which impended over Woodstock, and interceded for the preservation of that beautiful seat, as a matter of personal favour, in which he found himself deeply interested. |
| 13730 |
Was it a fault of his, that the same road should lead to both these ends, or that his private interest, and that of the country, should happen to mix in the same letter? He hardened himself, therefore, to the act, made up and addressed his packet to the Lord General, and then sealed it with his seal of arms. |
| 13731 |
He was told by this important personage, that the Lord General received frankly all sorts of persons; and that he might obtain access to him next morning, at eight o'clock, for the trouble of presenting himself at the Castle gate, and announcing himself as the bearer of despatches to his Excellency. |
| 13732 |
It might be read on his countenance, that he was one of those resolute enthusiasts to whom Oliver owed his conquests, whose religious zeal made them even more than a match for the high spirited and high born cavaliers, who exhausted their valour in vain defence of their sovereign's person and crown. |
| 13733 |
By the fire sat two or three musketeers, listening to one who was expounding some religious mystery to them. He began half beneath his breath, but in tones of great volubility, which tones, as he approached the conclusion, became sharp and eager, as challenging either instant answer or silent acquiescence. |
| 13734 |
It has been long since said by the historian, that a collection of the Protector's speeches would make, with a few exceptions, the most nonsensical book in the world; but he ought to have added, that nothing could be more nervous, concise, and intelligible, than what he really intended should be understood. |
| 13735 |
Something there was in his disposition congenial to that of his countrymen; a contempt of folly, a hatred of affectation, and a dislike of ceremony, which, joined to the strong intrinsic qualities of sense and courage, made him in many respects not an unfit representative of the democracy of England. |
| 13736 |
Well, it is a sweet and comely thing to buckle on one's armour in behalf of Heaven's cause; otherwise truly, for mine own part, these men might have remained upon the throne even unto this day. Neither do I blame any for aiding them, until these successive great judgments have overwhelmed them and their house. |
| 13737 |
The truth was, the discourse began to take a turn which rendered it more interesting than ever to Wildrake, who therefore determined not to lose the opportunity for obtaining possession of the secret that seemed to be suspended on Cromwells lips; and that could only be through means of keeping guard upon his own. |
| 13738 |
I tell thee, Wildrake, unless we look to the only man who can rule and manage them, we may expect military law throughout the land; and I, for mine own part, look for any preservation of our privileges that may be vouchsafed to us, only through the wisdom and forbearance of Cromwell. Now you have my secret. |
| 13739 |
However, we came on at a slow pace, as men who are determined to do their duty without fear or favour, when suddenly we saw something white haste away up the avenue towards the town, when six of our constables and assistants fled at once, as conceiving it to be an apparition called the White Woman of Woodstock. |
| 13740 |
Thieves will not attack well armed travellers, nor will devils or evil spirits come against one who bears in his bosom the word of truth, in the very language in which it was first dictated. No, sir, they shun a divine who can understand the holy text, as a crow is said to keep wide of a gun loaded with hailshot. |
| 13741 |
There was neither foppery nor slovenliness in his exterior, nor had he any marks of military service or rank about his person. A small walking rapier seemed merely worn as a badge of his rank as a gentleman, without his hand having the least purpose of becoming acquainted with the hilt, or his eye with the blade. |
| 13742 |
He was conscious his doctrines were suspected, and his proceedings watched, by the two principal sects of Prelatists and Presbyterians, who, however inimical to each other, were still more hostile to one who was an opponent, not only to a church establishment of any kind, but to every denomination of Christianity. |
| 13743 |
Under such unpleasant impressions, and conscious of the neighbourhood of something unfriendly, Colonel Everard had already advanced about half along the gallery, when he heard some one sigh very near him, and a low soft voice pronounce his name. "Here I am," he replied, while his heart beat thick and short. |
| 13744 |
He could not indeed but conclude, that however successfully the plot which he conceived to be in agitation had proceeded against the timid Bletson, the stupid Desborough, and the crazy Harrison, there was little doubt that at length their artifices must necessarily bring shame and danger on those engaged in it. |
| 13745 |
The latter proceeded from a scratch which he had received in the throat, as he struggled to extricate himself. With unaffected alarm, Wildrake undid his friend's collar, and with eager haste proceeded to examine the wound, his hands trembling, and his eyes glistening with apprehension for his benefactor's life. |
| 13746 |
There was a gathering of menials and dependents in the outer chamber or hall, for no one doubted that his sudden departure was owing to his having, as they expressed it, "seen something," and all desired to know how a man of such acknowledged courage as Everard, looked under the awe of a recent apparition. |
| 13747 |
But you will find enough of others who will avow, that Colonel Everard is truckling to the usurper Cromwell, and that all his fair pretexts of forwarding his country's liberties, are but a screen for driving a bargain with the successful encroacher, and obtaining the best terms he can for himself and his family. |
| 13748 |
He saw no choice in the course to be pursued, and felt in his own imagination the strongest right to direct, and even reprove, his cousin, beloved as she was, on account of the dangerous machinations with which she appeared to have connected herself. He returned slowly, and in a very different mood. |
| 13749 |
Now, to come back to where we started. Supposing you were not to reside in person at the Lodge, and to forbear even visiting there, unless on invitation, when such a thing can be brought about, I tell you frankly, I think your uncle and his daughter might be induced to come back to the Lodge, and reside there as usual. |
| 13750 |
He endeavoured to console himself on this subject by the number and position of the guards, yet still was dissatisfied with himself for not having taken yet more exact precautions, and for keeping an extorted promise of silence, which might consign so many of his party to the danger of assassination. |
| 13751 |
These thoughts, connected with his military duties, awakened another train of reflections. He bethought himself, that all he could now do, was to visit the sentries, and ascertain that they were awake, alert, on the watch, and so situated, that in time of need they might be ready to support each other. |
| 13752 |
Wing thy flight from hence on the morrow, for if thou tarriest with the bats, owls, vultures and ravens, which have thought to nestle here, thou wilt inevitably share their fate. Away then, that these halls may be swept and garnished for the reception of those who have a better right to inhabit them. |
| 13753 |
Know, I can bring a troop of soldiers round the castle, who will search its most inward recesses for the author of this audacious frolic; and if that search should fail, it will cost but a few barrels of gunpowder to make the mansion a heap of ruins, and bury under them the authors of such an ill judged pastime. |
| 13754 |
He groped his way, however, to the fireside, and flung on the embers which were yet gleaming, a handful of dry fuel. It presently blazed, and afforded him light to see the room in every direction. He looked cautiously, almost timidly, around, and half expected some horrible phantom to become visible. |
| 13755 |
But he saw nothing save the old furniture, the reading desk, and other articles, which had been left in the same state as when Sir Henry Lee departed. He felt an uncontrollable desire, mingled with much repugnance, to look at the portrait of the ancient knight, which the form he had seen so strongly resembled. |
| 13756 |
He hesitated betwixt the opposing feelings, but at length snatched, with desperate resolution, the taper which he had extinguished, and relighted it, ere the blaze of the fuel had again died away. He held it up to the ancient portrait of Victor Lee, and gazed on it with eager curiosity, not unmingled with fear. |
| 13757 |
The apparition resembling Victor Lee next called his attention. Ridiculous stories had been often circulated, of this figure, or one exactly resembling it, having been met with by night among the waste apartments and corridors of the old palace; and Markham Everard had often heard such in his childhood. |
| 13758 |
Ah! those merry days are gone. Well, it is the fashion to make a grave face on't among cavaliers, and specially the parsons that have lost their tithe pigs; but I was fitted for the element of the time, and never did or can desire merrier days than I had during that same barbarous, bloody, and unnatural rebellion. |
| 13759 |
Not that I fast, in the papistical opinion that it adds to those merits, which are but an accumulation of filthy rags; but because I hold it needful that no grosser sustenance should this day cloud my understanding, or render less pure and vivid the thanks I owe to Heaven for a most wonderful preservation. |
| 13760 |
Only our tutor, Master Purefoy, used to say, that if my comrade had the advantage of me in gifts, I had the better of him in grace; for he was attached to the profane learning of the classics, always unprofitable, often impious and impure; and I had light enough to turn my studies into the sacred tongues. |
| 13761 |
From thence they made excursions, and vexed the country; and high time it was to suppress them, so that a part of our regiment went to reduce them; and I was requested to go, for they were few in number to take in so strong a place, and the Colonel judged that my exhortations would make them do valiantly. |
| 13762 |
I am conscious it little becomes a man of my cloth, who should be the bearer of consolation to others, to give way in mine own person to an extremity of grief, weak at least, if indeed it is not sinful; for what are we, that we should weep and murmur touching that which is permitted? But Albany was to me as a brother. |
| 13763 |
And thus armed and prepared, I sate me down to read, at the same time to write, that I might compel my mind to attend to those subjects which became the situation in which I was placed, as preventing any unlicensed excursions of the fancy, and leaving no room for my imagination to brood over idle fears. |
| 13764 |
But my age is like a lusty winter, as old Will says, frosty but kindly; and what if, old as we are, we live to see better days yet! I promise thee, Joceline, I love this jarring betwixt the rogues of the board and the rogues of the sword. When thieves quarrel, true men have a chance of coming by their own. |
| 13765 |
Meanwhile, Alice, with a prouder and a lighter heart than had danced in her bosom for several days, went forth with a gaiety to which she of late had been a stranger, to contribute her assistance to the regulation and supply of the household, by bringing the fresh water wanted from fair Rosamond's well. |
| 13766 |
Besides these causes for gaiety, Alice Lee had the pleasing feeling that she was restored to the habitation and the haunts of her childhood, from which she had not departed without much pain, the more felt, perhaps, because suppressed, in order to avoid irritating her father's sense of his misfortune. |
| 13767 |
But I was your last antagonist, and took a little blood from you, merely to prepare you for the pleasure and surprise of seeing your son, who, though hunted pretty close, as you may believe, hath made his way from Worcester hither, where, with Joceline's assistance, we will care well enough for his safety. |
| 13768 |
They embraced again and again, and gave way to those expansions of the heart, which at once express and relieve the pressure of mental agitation. At length the tide of emotion began to subside; and Sir Henry, still holding his recovered son by the hand, resumed the command of his feelings which he usually practised. |
| 13769 |
All the company looked at each other in astonishment, at a response so little expected. It was followed by a solemn and peculiar tap, such as a kind of freemasonry had introduced among royalists, and by which they were accustomed to make themselves and their principles known to each other, when they met by accident. |
| 13770 |
It could not, on the other hand, be denied, that in spite of the touch of ridicule which attached to his character, and the loose morality which he had learned in the dissipation of town pleasures, and afterwards in the disorderly life of a soldier, Wildrake had points about him both to make him feared and respected. |
| 13771 |
The honourable Master Kerneguy either possessed that happy indifference of temper which does not deign to notice such circumstances, or he was able to assume the appearance of it to perfection, as he sat sipping sack, and cracking walnuts, without testifying the least sense that an addition had been made to the party. |
| 13772 |
Then, although my cousin and I have not been on good terms for these some years, I believe him incapable of betraying your Majesty; and lastly, if I saw the least danger of it, I would, were he ten times the son of my mother's sister, run my sword through his body, ere he had time to execute his purpose. |
| 13773 |
Close by the divine's plate lay a Bible and Prayer book, with some proof sheets, as they are technically called, seemingly fresh from the press. There was also within the reach of his hand a dirk, or Scottish poniard, a powder horn, and a musketoon, or blunderbuss, with a pair of handsome pocket pistols. |
| 13774 |
I will tell you in one word what points I must have explanation on; and it will remain with you to give it, or to return a message to the King that you will not explain your plan; in which case, if he acts by my advice, he will leave Woodstock, and resume his purpose of getting to the coast without delay. |
| 13775 |
Full of anxious thought, he went to the apartment of Victor Lee, in which Joliffe told him he would find the party assembled. The sound of laughter, as he laid his hand on the lock of the door, almost made him start, so singularly did it jar with the doubtful and melancholy reflections which engaged his own mind. |
| 13776 |
Your dire revenge, with which a brother persecuted a poor fellow who had seduced his sister, or been seduced by her, as the case might be, as relentlessly as if he had trodden on his toes without making an apology, is entirely out of fashion, since Dorset killed the Lord Bruce many a long year since. |
| 13777 |
Pshaw! when a King is the offender, the bravest man sacrifices nothing by pocketing a little wrong which he cannot personally resent. And in France, there is not a noble house, where each individual would not cock his hat an inch higher, if they could boast of such a left handed alliance with the Grand Monarque. |
| 13778 |
His profligate logic, however, was not the result of his natural disposition, nor received without scruple by his sound understanding. It was a train of reasoning which he had been led to adopt from his too close intimacy with the witty and profligate youth of quality by whom he had been surrounded. |
| 13779 |
But not Alice only, her father also showed himself near the window, and beckoned him up. The family party seemed now more promising than before, and the fugitive Prince was weary of playing battledore and shuttlecock with his conscience, and much disposed to let matters go as chance should determine. |
| 13780 |
This promised still farther to insure the security of Woodstock. It was therefore settled, that the King, under the character of Louis Kerneguy, should remain an inmate of the Lodge, until a vessel should be procured for his escape, at the port which might be esteemed the safest and most convenient. |
| 13781 |
He had also undertaken, at his own great personal risk, to visit different points on the sea coast, and ascertain the security of different places for providing shipping for the King's leaving England. These circumstances were alike calculated to procure the King's safety, and facilitate his escape. |
| 13782 |
There were, however, two of the household at Woodstock, who appeared not so entirely reconciled with Louis Kerneguy or his purposes. The one was Bevis, who seemed, from their first unfriendly rencontre, to have kept up a pique against their new guest, which no advances on the part of Charles were able to soften. |
| 13783 |
Walked he slow, walked he fast, his friend in the genteel but puritanic habit, strong in person, and well armed, as we have described him, seemed determined to keep him company, and, without attempting to join, or enter into conversation, never suffered him to outstrip his surveillance for more than two or three yards. |
| 13784 |
Betwixt anxiety, therefore, vexation, and anger, Charles faced suddenly round on his pursuer, as they reached a small narrow glade, which led to the little meadow over which presided the King's Oak, the ragged and scathed branches and gigantic trunk of which formed a vista to the little wild avenue. |
| 13785 |
I think you can owe me no malice; for I never saw you before to my knowledge. If you can give any good reason for asking it, I am willing to render you personal satisfaction. If your purpose is merely impertinent curiosity, I let you know that I will not suffer myself to be dogged in my private walks by any one. |
| 13786 |
Yet even in this moment of extreme urgency, his courage and composure did not fail; and he recollected it was of the utmost importance not to seem startled, and to answer so as, if possible, to lead the dangerous companion with whom he had met, to confess the extent of his actual knowledge or suspicions concerning him. |
| 13787 |
You have the advantage, no doubt, of arms; but it is not that odds which will induce me to fly from a single man. If, on the other hand, you are disposed to hear reason, I tell you in calm words, that I neither suspect the offence to which you allude, nor comprehend why you give me the title of my Lord. |
| 13788 |
I protest it went to my heart to part you, when I saw you stretching yourselves so handsomely, and in fair love of honour, without any malicious or blood thirsty thoughts. I promise you, had it not been for my duty as Ranger here, and sworn to the office, I would rather have been your umpire than your hinderance. |
| 13789 |
Indeed, it was under a partial sense that this was the case, and in the hope to see his cousin Alice, that the Colonel forbore making any answer to the harangue of his uncle, which had concluded just as the old knight had alighted at the door of the Lodge, and was entering the hall, followed by his two attendants. |
| 13790 |
Colonel Everard's patience, however, had reached bounds which it was very likely to surpass; for, though differing widely in politics, there was a resemblance betwixt the temper of the uncle and nephew. "Damnation" exclaimed the Colonel, in a tone which became a puritan as little as did the exclamation itself. |
| 13791 |
I am the daughter of Sir Henry Lee, sir; you are, or profess to be, Master Louis Kerneguy, my brother's page, and a fugitive for shelter under my father's roof, who incurs danger by the harbour he affords you, and whose household, therefore, ought not to be disturbed by your unpleasing importunities. |
| 13792 |
Pride too, or rather a just and natural sense of dignity, displayed the unworthiness of a Prince descending to actual personal conflict with a subject of any degree, and the ridicule which would be thrown on his memory, should he lose his life for an obscure intrigue by the hand of a private gentleman. |
| 13793 |
But Passion also had her arguments, which she addressed to a temper rendered irritable by recent distress and mortification. In the first place, if he was a prince, he was also a gentleman, entitled to resent as such, and obliged to give or claim the satisfaction expected on occasion of differences among gentlemen. |
| 13794 |
Master Everard must be pleased in finding only a fugitive prince in the person in whom he thought he had discovered a successful rival. He cannot but be aware of the feelings which prevented me from taking advantage of the cover which this young lady's devoted loyalty afforded me, at the risk of her own happiness. |
| 13795 |
He is the party who is to profit by my candour; and certainly I have a right to expect that my condition, already indifferent enough, shall not be rendered worse by his becoming privy to it under such circumstances. At any rate, the avowal is made; and it is for Colonel Everard to consider how he is to conduct himself. |
| 13796 |
Indeed, this man Tomkins seemed by some secret means to have gained the confidence in part, if not in whole, of almost every one connected with these intrigues. All closeted him, all conversed with him in private; those who had the means propitiated him with gifts, those who had not were liberal of promises. |
| 13797 |
Then, if his slow and formal step was heard in the passages approaching the gallery, Dr. Rochecliffe, though he never introduced him to his peculiar boudoir, was sure to meet Master Tomkins in some neutral apartment, and to engage him in long conversations, which apparently had great interest for both. |
| 13798 |
Irritated to frenzy by the severe blow which he had received, Tomkins pursued, with every black passion in his soul and in his face, mingled with fear least his villany should be discovered. He called on Phoebe loudly to stop, and had the brutality to menace her with one of his pistols if she continued to fly. |
| 13799 |
This was no quiet gentle tap, intimating a modest intruder; no redoubled rattle, as the pompous annunciation of some vain person; neither did it resemble the formal summons to formal business, nor the cheerful visit of some welcome friend. It was a single blow, solemn and stern, if not actually menacing in the sound. |
| 13800 |
Nevertheless, although I speak thus in my poor judgment, I would not put force on the conscience of any man, leaving to the learned to follow the learned, and the wise to be instructed by the wise, while poor simple wretched souls are not to be denied a drink from the stream which runneth by the way. |
| 13801 |
But the cavalier had replied with a disconsolate shake of the head, so slight as to be almost imperceptible. Everard, therefore, lost all hope, and the melancholy feeling of approaching and inevitable evil, was only varied by anxiety concerning the shape and manner in which it was about to make its approach. |
| 13802 |
Albert, the vidette of the party, hastened to open it, enjoining, as he left the room, the rest to remain quiet, until he had ascertained the cause of the knocking. When he gained the portal, he called to know who was there, and what they wanted at so late an hour. "It is only me," answered a treble voice. |
| 13803 |
As they left the apartment, the old knight let his hands sink gently as he concluded this fervent ejaculation, his head sinking at the same time. His son dared not disturb his meditation, yet feared the strength of his feelings might overcome that of his constitution, and that he might fall into a swoon. |
| 13804 |
A rear guard of ten men guarded Everard and the minister. Cromwell required the attendance of the former, as it might be necessary to examine him, or confront him with others; and he carried Master Holdenough with him, because he might escape if left behind, and perhaps raise some tumult in the village. |
| 13805 |
The infantry being disposed of as we have noticed, marched off from the left of their line, Cromwell and Pearson, both on foot, keeping at the head of the centre, or main body of the detachment. They were all armed with petronels, short guns similar to the modern carabine, and, like them, used by horsemen. |
| 13806 |
Labouring along in these dusky passages, where, from time to time, they were like to be choked by the dust which their acts of violence excited, the soldiers were obliged to be relieved oftener than once, and the bulky Corporal Grace be here himself puffed and blew like a grampus that has got into shoal water. |
| 13807 |
His acute and observing eye detected, with a sneering smile, the cordage and machinery by which the bed of poor Desborough had been inverted, and several remains of the various disguises, as well as private modes of access, by which Desborough, Bletson, and Harrison, had been previously imposed upon. |
| 13808 |
Humgudgeon hinted, that he had consulted the Scripture that morning by way of lot, and his fortune had been to alight on the passage, "Eutychus fell down from the third loft." The energy and authority of Cromwell, however, and the refreshment of some food and strong waters, reconciled them to pursuing their task. |
| 13809 |
Nevertheless, with all their unwearied exertions, morning dawned on the search before they had reached Dr. Rochecliffe's sitting apartment, into which, after all, they obtained entrance by a mode much more difficult than that which the Doctor himself employed. But here their ingenuity was long at fault. |
| 13810 |
For surely he who hath been to our British Israel as a shield of help, and a sword of excellency, making her enemies be found liars unto her, will not give over the flock to those foolish shepherds of Westminster, who shear the sheep and feed them not, and who are in very deed hirelings, not shepherds. |
| 13811 |
While the head of the sentinel on the opposite platform was turned from him, and bent rather downwards, he suddenly sprung across the chasm, though the space on which he lighted was scarce wide enough for two persons, threw the surprised soldier from his precarious stand, and jumped himself down into the chamber. |
| 13812 |
The gigantic trooper went sheer down twenty feet, struck against a projecting battlement, which launched the wretched man outwards, and then fell on the earth with such tremendous force, that the head, which first touched the ground, dinted a hole in the soil of six inches in depth, and was crushed like an eggshell. |
| 13813 |
But we will not waste useless words. God knows that it is not of our will that we are called to such high matters, being as humble in our thoughts as we are of ourselves; and in our unassisted nature frail and foolish; and unable to render a reason but for the better spirit within us, which is not of us. |
| 13814 |
But when daylight was but a little while broken, the explosion of gunpowder which took place, and the subsequent fall of the turret to which the mine was applied, would have awakened the Seven Sleepers, or Morpheus himself. The smoke, penetrating through the windows, left them at no loss for the cause of the din. |
| 13815 |
But Pearson declined to receive or transmit any such remonstrance, and with a dejected look and mien of melancholy presage, renewed his exhortation to them to prepare for the hour of noon, and withdrew from the prison. The operation of this intelligence on the two clerical disputants was more remarkable. |
| 13816 |
Lo, I come as a sign to thee; wherefore arise, eat, drink, and let thy heart be glad within thee; for thou shalt eat with joy the food of him that laboureth in the trenches, seeing that since thou wert commander over the host, the poor sentinel hath had such provisions as I have now placed for thine own refreshment. |
| 13817 |
I grudge that one man should be honoured and followed, because he is the descendant of a victorious commander, while less honour and allegiance is paid to another, who, in personal qualities, and in success, might emulate the founder of his rival's dynasty. Well, Sir Henry Lee lives, and shall live for me. |
| 13818 |
But in spite of this balsam, sorrow, acting imperceptibly, and sucking the blood like a vampire, seemed gradually drying up the springs of life; and, without any formed illness, or outward complaint, the old man's strength and vigour gradually abated, and the ministry of Wildrake proved daily more indispensable. |
| 13819 |
There were citizens in various bands, some arrayed in coats of black velvet, with gold chains; some in military suits of cloth of gold, or cloth of silver, followed by all those craftsmen who, having hooted the father from Whitehall, had now come to shout the son into possession of his ancestral place. |
| 13820 |
To lie by Sir Henry's feet in the summer or by the fire in winter, to raise his head to look on him, to lick his withered hand or his shrivelled cheek from time to time, seemed now all that Bevis lived for. Three or four livery servants attended to protect this group from the thronging multitude, but it needed not. |
| 13821 |
There was a babel of bewildered men, women, and children. The wretched little booking office, and the baggage room, which was not much larger, were crowded thick with emigrants, and were heavy and rank with the atmosphere of dripping clothes. Open carts full of bedding stood by the half hour in the rain. |
| 13822 |
It was dark, the wind blew clean through it from end to end; and here I found a great block of passengers and baggage, hundreds of one and tons of the other. I feel I shall have a difficulty to make myself believed; and certainly the scene must have been exceptional, for it was too dangerous for daily repetition. |
| 13823 |
The landing at Jersey City was done in a stampede. I had a fixed sense of calamity, and to judge by conduct, the same persuasion was common to us all. A panic selfishness, like that produced by fear, presided over the disorder of our landing. People pushed, and elbowed, and ran, their families following how they could. |
| 13824 |
Children fell, and were picked up to be rewarded by a blow. One child, who had lost her parents, screamed steadily and with increasing shrillness, as though verging towards a fit; an official kept her by him, but no one else seemed so much as to remark her distress; and I am ashamed to say that I ran among the rest. |
| 13825 |
For my own part, I got out a clothes brush, and brushed my trousers as hard as I could till I had dried them and warmed my blood into the bargain; but no one else, except my next neighbour to whom I lent the brush, appeared to take the least precaution. As they were, they composed themselves to sleep. |
| 13826 |
A green, open, undulating country stretched away upon all sides. Locust trees and a single field of Indian corn gave it a foreign grace and interest; but the contours of the land were soft and English. It was not quite England, neither was it quite France; yet like enough either to seem natural in my eyes. |
| 13827 |
That was the name, as no other could be, for that shining river and desirable valley. None can care for literature in itself who do not take a special pleasure in the sound of names; and there is no part of the world where nomenclature is so rich, poetical, humorous, and picturesque as the United States of America. |
| 13828 |
As for him and me, we had enjoyed a very pleasant conversation; he, in particular, had found much pleasure in my society; I was a stranger; this was exactly one of those rare conjunctures... Without being very clear seeing, I can still perceive the sun at noonday; and the coloured gentleman deftly pocketed a quarter. |
| 13829 |
The tall corn pleased the eye; the trees were graceful in themselves, and framed the plain into long, aerial vistas; and the clean, bright, gardened townships spoke of country fare and pleasant summer evenings on the stoop. It was a sort of flat paradise; but, I am afraid, not unfrequented by the devil. |
| 13830 |
Nay, she was such a rattle by nature, and, so powerfully moved to autobiographical talk, that she was forced, for want of a better, to take me into confidence and tell me the story of her life. I heard about her late husband, who seemed to have made his chief impression by taking her out pleasuring on Sundays. |
| 13831 |
At one station, she shook up her children to look at a man on the platform and say if he were not like Mr. Z.; while to me she explained how she had been keeping company with this Mr. Z., how far matters had proceeded, and how it was because of his desistance that she was now travelling to the West. |
| 13832 |
A poor nature would have slipped, in the course of these familiarities, into a sort of worthless toleration for me. We reached Chicago in the evening. I was turned out of the cars, bundled into an omnibus, and driven off through the streets to the station of a different railroad. Chicago seemed a great and gloomy city. |
| 13833 |
When I came a little more to myself, I found that there had sat down beside me a very cheerful, rosy little German gentleman, somewhat gone in drink, who was talking away to me, nineteen to the dozen, as they say. I did my best to keep up the conversation; for it seemed to me dimly as if something depended upon that. |
| 13834 |
I heard him relate, among many other things, that there were pickpockets on the train, who had already robbed a man of forty dollars and a return ticket; but though I caught the words, I do not think I properly understood the sense until next morning; and I believe I replied at the time that I was very glad to hear it. |
| 13835 |
Nay, even in a natural state, as I found next morning when we scraped acquaintance, he was a heavy, uncommunicative man. After trying him on different topics, it appears that the little German gentleman flounced into a temper, swore an oath or two, and departed from that car in quest of livelier society. |
| 13836 |
At a place called Creston, a drunken man got in. He was aggressively friendly, but, according to English notions, not at all unpresentable upon a train. For one stage he eluded the notice of the officials; but just as we were beginning to move out of the next station, Cromwell by name, by came the conductor. |
| 13837 |
The business of life is not carried on by words, but in set phrases, each with a special and almost a slang signification. Some international obscurity prevailed between me and the coloured gentleman at Council Bluffs; so that what I was asking, which seemed very natural to me, appeared to him a monstrous exigency. |
| 13838 |
He refused, and that with the plainness of the West. This American manner of conducting matters of business is, at first, highly unpalatable to the European. When we approach a man in the way of his calling, and for those services by which he earns his bread, we consider him for the time being our hired servant. |
| 13839 |
Where there is scarce elbow room for two to sit, there will not be space enough for one to lie. Hence the company, or rather, as it appears from certain bills about the Transfer Station, the company's servants, have conceived a plan for the better accommodation of travellers. They prevail on every two to chum together. |
| 13840 |
There was another young man whom he had met already in the train; he guessed he was honest, and would prefer to chum with him upon the whole. All this without any sort of excuse, as though I had been inanimate or absent. I began to tremble lest every one should refuse my company, and I be left rejected. |
| 13841 |
The class to which I belonged was of course far the largest, and we ran over, so to speak, to both sides; so that there were some Caucasians among the Chinamen, and some bachelors among the families. But our own car was pure from admixture, save for one little boy of eight or nine who had the whooping cough. |
| 13842 |
Their charge began with twenty five cents a cushion, but fell, before the train went on again, to fifteen, with the bed board gratis, or less than one fifth of what I had paid for mine at the Transfer. This is my contribution to the economy of future emigrants. A great personage on an American train is the newsboy. |
| 13843 |
Shakespeare was my own nickname on the cars; Pennsylvania that of my bedfellow; and Dubuque, the name of a place in the State of Iowa, that of an amiable young fellow going west to cure an asthma, and retarding his recovery by incessantly chewing or smoking, and sometimes chewing and smoking together. |
| 13844 |
I have never seen tobacco so sillily abused. Shakespeare bought a tin washing dish, Dubuque a towel, and Pennsylvania a brick of soap. The partners used these instruments, one after another, according to the order of their first awaking; and when the firm had finished there was no want of borrowers. |
| 13845 |
We had rarely less than twenty minutes for each; and if we had not spent many another twenty minutes waiting for some express upon a side track among miles of desert, we might have taken an hour to each repast and arrived at San Francisco up to time. For haste is not the foible of an emigrant train. |
| 13846 |
I tell it because it gives so good an example of that uncivil kindness of the American, which is perhaps their most bewildering character to one newly landed. It was immediately after I had left the emigrant train; and I am told I looked like a man at death's door, so much had this long journey shaken me. |
| 13847 |
On these occasions he most rudely struck my foot aside; and though I myself apologised, as if to show him the way, he answered me never a word. I chafed furiously, and I fear the next time it would have come to words. But suddenly I felt a touch upon my shoulder, and a large juicy pear was put into my hand. |
| 13848 |
It was the newsboy, who had observed that I was looking ill, and so made me this present out of a tender heart. For the rest of the journey I was petted like a sick child; he lent me newspapers, thus depriving himself of his legitimate profit on their sale, and came repeatedly to sit by me and cheer me up. |
| 13849 |
The train toiled over this infinity like a snail; and being the one thing moving, it was wonderful what huge proportions it began to assume in our regard. It seemed miles in length, and either end of it within but a step of the horizon. Even my own body or my own head seemed a great thing in that emptiness. |
| 13850 |
Upon what food does it subsist in such a land? What livelihood can repay a human creature for a life spent in this huge sameness? He is cut off from books, from news, from company, from all that can relieve existence but the prosecution of his affairs. A sky full of stars is the most varied spectacle that he can hope. |
| 13851 |
One person at least I saw upon the plains who seemed in every way superior to her lot. This was a woman who boarded us at a way station, selling milk. She was largely formed; her features were more than comely; she had that great rarity a fine complexion which became her; and her eyes were kind, dark, and steady. |
| 13852 |
Except for the air, which was light and stimulating, there was not one good circumstance in that God forsaken land. I had been suffering in my health a good deal all the way; and at last, whether I was exhausted by my complaint or poisoned in some wayside eating house, the evening we left Laramie, I fell sick outright. |
| 13853 |
They that long for morning have never longed for it more earnestly than I. And yet when day came, it was to shine upon the same broken and unsightly quarter of the world. Mile upon mile, and not a tree, a bird, or a river. Only down the long, sterile canons, the train shot hooting and awoke the resting echo. |
| 13854 |
We had one passenger with us, too guns, and one revolver; so we ran all the lead We had into bullets (and) hung the guns up in the wagon so that we could get at them in a minit. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon; droave the cattel a little way; when a prairie chicken alited a little way from the wagon. |
| 13855 |
We then turend the other way, and run up the side of the Mountain, and hid behind some cedar trees, and stayed there till dark. The Indians hunted all over after us, and verry close to us, so close that we could here there tomyhawks Jingle. At dark the man and me started on, I stubing my toes against sticks and stones. |
| 13856 |
My feet was so sore when we caught up with them that I had to ride; I could not step. We traveld on for too days, when the men that owned the cattle said they would (could) not drive them another inch. We unyoked the oxen; we had about seventy pounds of flour; we took it out and divided it into four packs. |
| 13857 |
We had one pint of flour a day for our alloyance. Sometimes we made soup of it; sometimes we (made) pancakes; and sometimes mixed it up with cold water and eat it that way. We traveld twelve or fourteen days. The time came at last when we should have to reach some place or starve. We saw fresh horse and cattle tracks. |
| 13858 |
This, by good fortune, the conductor negatived. There was a good deal of story telling in some quarters; in others, little but silence. In this society, more than any other that ever I was in, it was the narrator alone who seemed to enjoy the narrative. It was rarely that any one listened for the listening. |
| 13859 |
He owed me far more, had he understood life, for thus preserving him a lively interest throughout the journey. I met one of my fellow passengers months after, driving a street tramway car in San Francisco; and, as the joke was now out of season, told him my name without subterfuge. You never saw a man more chapfallen. |
| 13860 |
These were not places for immigration, but for emigration, it appeared; not one of them, but I knew a man who had lifted up his heel and left it for an ungrateful country. And it was still westward that they ran. Hunger, you would have thought, came out of the east like the sun, and the evening was made of edible gold. |
| 13861 |
We all pigged and stewed in one infamy, wet our hands and faces for half a minute daily on the platform, and were unashamed. But the Chinese never lost an opportunity, and you would see them washing their feet an act not dreamed of among ourselves and going as far as decency permitted to wash their whole bodies. |
| 13862 |
Such is the cry. It seems, after all, that no country is bound to submit to immigration any more than to invasion; each is war to the knife, and resistance to either but legitimate defence. Yet we may regret the free tradition of the republic, which loved to depict herself with open arms, welcoming all unfortunates. |
| 13863 |
That the Jew should not love the Christian, nor the Irishman love the English, nor the Indian brave tolerate the thought of the American, is not disgraceful to the nature of man; rather, indeed, honourable, since it depends on wrongs ancient like the race, and not personal to him who cherishes the indignation. |
| 13864 |
But I am not so sure that the offer was in good faith. Indeed, I am more than half persuaded it was but a feeler to decide the bet. Of all the next day I will tell you nothing, for the best of all reasons, that I remember no more than that we continued through desolate and desert scenes, fiery hot and deadly weary. |
| 13865 |
It was a clear, moonlit night; but the valley was too narrow to admit the moonshine direct, and only a diffused glimmer whitened the tall rocks and relieved the blackness of the pines. A hoarse clamour filled the air; it was the continuous plunge of a cascade somewhere near at hand among the mountains. |
| 13866 |
The air struck chill, but tasted good and vigorous in the nostrils a fine, dry, old mountain atmosphere. I was dead sleepy, but I returned to roost with a grateful mountain feeling at my heart. When I awoke next morning, I was puzzled for a while to know if it were day or night, for the illumination was unusual. |
| 13867 |
I sat up at last, and found we were grading slowly downward through a long snowshed; and suddenly we shot into an open; and before we were swallowed into the next length of wooden tunnel, I had one glimpse of a huge pine forested ravine upon my left, a foaming river, and a sky already coloured with the fires of dawn. |
| 13868 |
It was like meeting one's wife. I had come home again home from unsightly deserts to the green and habitable corners of the earth. Every spire of pine along the hill top, every trouty pool along that mountain river, was more dear to me than a blood relation. Few people have praised God more happily than I did. |
| 13869 |
These long beaches are enticing to the idle man. It would be hard to find a walk more solitary and at the same time more exciting to the mind. Crowds of ducks and sea gulls hover over the sea. Sandpipers trot in and out by troops after the retiring waves, trilling together in a chorus of infinitesimal song. |
| 13870 |
A rough, undergrowth partially conceals the sand. The crouching, hardy live oaks flourish singly or in thickets the kind of wood for murderers to crawl among and here and there the skirts of the forest extend downward from the hills with a floor of turf and long aisles of pine trees hung with Spaniard's Beard. |
| 13871 |
All woods lure a rambler onward; but in those of Monterey it was the surf that particularly invited me to prolong my walks. I would push straight for the shore where I thought it to be nearest. Indeed, there was scarce a direction that would not, sooner or later, have brought me forth on the Pacific. |
| 13872 |
He was a Mexican, very dark of hue, but smiling and fat, and he carried an axe, though his true business at that moment was to seek for straying cattle. I asked him what o'clock it was, but he seemed neither to know nor care; and when he in his turn asked me for news of his cattle, I showed myself equally indifferent. |
| 13873 |
Westward is Point Pinos, with the lighthouse in a wilderness of sand, where you will find the lightkeeper playing the piano, making models and bows and arrows, studying dawn and sunrise in amateur oil painting, and with a dozen other elegant pursuits and interests to surprise his brave, old country rivals. |
| 13874 |
These fires are one of the great dangers of California. I have seen from Monterey as many as three at the same time, by day a cloud of smoke, by night a red coal of conflagration in the distance. A little thing will start them, and, if the wind be favourable, they gallop over miles of country faster than a horse. |
| 13875 |
California has been a land of promise in its time, like Palestine; but if the woods continue so swiftly to perish, it may become, like Palestine, a land of desolation. To visit the woods while they are languidly burning is a strange piece of experience. The fire passes through the underbrush at a run. |
| 13876 |
But this last is only in semblance. For after this first squib like conflagration of the dry moss and twigs, there remains behind a deep rooted and consuming fire in the very entrails of the tree. The resin of the pitch pine is principally condensed at the base of the bole and in the spreading roots. |
| 13877 |
Meanwhile the fire continues its silent business; the roots are reduced to a fine ash; and long afterwards, if you pass by, you will find the earth pierced with radiating galleries, and preserving the design of all these subterranean spurs, as though it were the mould for a new tree instead of the print of an old one. |
| 13878 |
At least they have not so much to fear from the axe, but perish by what may be called a natural although a violent death; while it is man in his short sighted greed that robs the country of the nobler redwood. Yet a little while and perhaps all the hills of seaboard California may be as bald as Tamalpais. |
| 13879 |
Not even the most Americanised could always resist the temptation to stick a red rose into his hat band. Not even the most Americanised would descend to wear the vile dress hat of civilisation. Spanish was the language of the streets. It was difficult to get along without a word or two of that language for an occasion. |
| 13880 |
You would ask him how that came about, and elicit some tangled story back foremost, from which you gathered that the Americans had been greedy like designing men, and the Mexicans greedy like children, but no other certain fact. Their merits and their faults contributed alike to the ruin of the former landholders. |
| 13881 |
This single unworldly trait will account for much of that revolution of which we are speaking. The Mexicans have the name of being great swindlers, but certainly the accusation cuts both ways. In a contest of this sort, the entire booty would scarcely have passed into the hands of the more scupulous race. |
| 13882 |
This is, of course, but a part of a part of an extraordinary problem now in the course of being solved in the various States of the American Union. I am reminded of an anecdote. Some years ago, at a great sale of wine, all the odd lots were purchased by a grocer in a small way in the old town of Edinburgh. |
| 13883 |
Credit in these parts has passed into a superstition. I have seen a strong, violent man struggling for months to recover a debt, and getting nothing but an exchange of waste paper. The very storekeepers are averse to asking for cash payments, and are more surprised than pleased when they are offered. |
| 13884 |
His life has been repeatedly in danger. Not very long ago, I was told, the stage was stopped and examined three evenings in succession by disguised horsemen thirsting for his blood. A certain house on the Salinas road, they say, he always passes in his buggy at full speed, for the squatter sent him warning long ago. |
| 13885 |
But the day of the Jesuit has gone by, the day of the Yankee has succeeded, and there is no one left to care for the converted savage. The church is roofless and ruinous, sea breezes and sea fogs, and the alternation of the rain and sunshine, daily widening the breaches and casting the crockets from the wall. |
| 13886 |
An Indian, stone blind and about eighty years of age, conducts the singing; other Indians compose the choir; yet they have the Gregorian music at their finger ends, and pronounce the Latin so correctly that I could follow the meaning as they sang. The pronunciation was odd and nasal, the singing hurried and staccato. |
| 13887 |
I have never seen faces more vividly lit up with joy than the faces of these Indian singers. It was to them not only the worship of God, nor an act by which they recalled and commemorated better days, but was besides an exercise of culture, where all they knew of art and letters was united and expressed. |
| 13888 |
A huge hotel has sprung up in the desert by the railway. Three sets of diners sit down successively to table. Invaluable toilettes figure along the beach and between the live oaks; and Monterey is advertised in the newspapers, and posted in the waiting rooms at railway stations, as a resort for wealth and fashion. |
| 13889 |
The fact of its great and special beauty further recommends this country to the artist. The field was chosen by men in whose blood there still raced some of the gleeful or solemn exultation of great art Millet who loved dignity like Michelangelo, Rousseau whose modern brush was dipped in the glamour of the ancients. |
| 13890 |
And for the same cause, and by the force of tradition, the painter of to day continues to inhabit and to paint it. There is in France scenery incomparable for romance and harmony. Provence, and the valley of the Rhone from Vienne to Tarascon, are one succession of masterpieces waiting for the brush. |
| 13891 |
Fontainebleau, if it be but quiet scenery, is classically graceful; and though the student may look for different qualities, this quality, silently present, will educate his hand and eye. But, before all its other advantages charm, loveliness, or proximity to Paris comes the great fact that it is already colonised. |
| 13892 |
Where his own purse and credit are not threatened, he will do the honours of his village generously. Any artist is made welcome, through whatever medium he may seek expression; science is respected; even the idler, if he prove, as he so rarely does, a gentleman, will soon begin to find himself at home. |
| 13893 |
They alone can take a serious interest in the childish tasks and pitiful successes of these years. They alone can behold with equanimity this fingering of the dumb keyboard, this polishing of empty sentences, this dull and literal painting of dull and insignificant subjects. Outsiders will spur him on. |
| 13894 |
It is a changeful place to paint, a stirring place to live in. As fast as your foot carries you, you pass from scene to scene, each vigorously painted in the colours of the sun, each endeared by that hereditary spell of forests on the mind of man who still remembers and salutes the ancient refuge of his race. |
| 13895 |
It is not a wilderness; it is rather a preserve. And, fitly enough, the centre of the maze is not a hermit's cavern. In the midst, a little mirthful town lies sunlit, humming with the business of pleasure; and the palace, breathing distinction and peopled by historic names, stands smokeless among gardens. |
| 13896 |
The choice of his position would seem to indicate so much; for if in the forest there are no places still to be discovered, there are many that have been forgotten, and that lie unvisited. There, to be sure, are the blue arrows waiting to reconduct you, now blazed upon a tree, now posted in the corner of a rock. |
| 13897 |
The demands of the imagination vary; some can be alone in a back garden looked upon by windows; others, like the ostrich, are content with a solitude that meets the eye; and others, again, expand in fancy to the very borders of their desert, and are irritably conscious of a hunter's camp in an adjacent county. |
| 13898 |
There had been disputes; and, in one instance at least, the English and the Americans had made common cause to prevent a cruel pleasantry. It would be well if nations and races could communicate their qualities; but in practice when they look upon each other, they have an eye to nothing but defects. |
| 13899 |
The good Lachevre has departed, carrying his household gods; and long before that Gaston Lafenestre was taken from our midst by an untimely death. He died before he had deserved success; it may be, he would never have deserved it; but his kind, comely, modest countenance still haunts the memory of all who knew him. |
| 13900 |
And once they were condemned, the process of extrusion was ruthless in its cruelty; after one evening with the formidable Bodmer, the Baily of our commonwealth, the erring stranger was beheld no more; he rose exceeding early the next day, and the first coach conveyed him from the scene of his discomfiture. |
| 13901 |
To think of it is to wonder the more at the strange failure of their race upon the larger theatre. This inbred civility to use the word in its completest meaning this natural and facile adjustment of contending liberties, seems all that is required to make a governable nation and a just and prosperous country. |
| 13902 |
He enjoyed a strenuous idleness full of visions, hearty meals, long, sweltering walks, mirth among companions; and still floating like music through his brain, foresights of great works that Shakespeare might be proud to have conceived, headless epics, glorious torsos of dramas, and words that were alive with import. |
| 13903 |
So in youth, like Moses from the mountain, we have sights of that House Beautiful of art which we shall never enter. They are dreams and unsubstantial; visions of style that repose upon no base of human meaning; the last heart throbs of that excited amateur who has to die in all of us before the artist can be born. |
| 13904 |
I give it the palm over Cernay. There is something ghastly in the great empty village square of Cernay, with the inn tables standing in one corner, as though the stage were set for rustic opera, and in the early morning all the painters breaking their fast upon white wine under the windows of the villagers. |
| 13905 |
Those merry voices that in woods call the wanderer farther, those thrilling silences and whispers of the groves, surely in Fontainebleau they must be vocal of me and my companions? We are not content to pass away entirely from the scenes of our delight; we would leave, if but in gratitude, a pillar and a legend. |
| 13906 |
Over the whole field of our wanderings such fetches are still travelling like indefatigable bagmen; but the imps of Fontainebleau, as of all beloved spots, are very long of life, and memory is piously unwilling to forget their orphanage. If anywhere about that wood you meet my airy bantling, greet him with tenderness. |
| 13907 |
They walked separate: the Cigarette plodding behind with some philosophy, the lean Arethusa posting on ahead. Thus each enjoyed his own reflections by the way; each had perhaps time to tire of them before he met his comrade at the designated inn; and the pleasures of society and solitude combined to fill the day. |
| 13908 |
And both these books, it will be seen, played a part in the subsequent adventure. The Arethusa was unwisely dressed. He is no precisian in attire; but by all accounts, he was never so ill inspired as on that tramp; having set forth indeed, upon a moment's notice, from the most unfashionable spot in Europe, Barbizon. |
| 13909 |
A flannel shirt of an agreeable dark hue, which the satirical called black; a light tweed coat made by a good English tailor; ready made cheap linen trousers and leathern gaiters completed his array. In person, he is exceptionally lean; and his face is not, like those of happier mortals, a certificate. |
| 13910 |
The culprit remaining silent under this home thrust, the Commissary relished his triumph for a while, and then demanded (like the postman, but with what different expectations!) to see the contents of the knapsack. And here the Arethusa, not yet sufficiently awake to his position, fell into a grave mistake. |
| 13911 |
Even as he went down the stairs, he was telling himself that here was a famous occasion for a roundel, and that like the committed linnets of the tuneful cavalier, he too would make his prison musical. I will tell the truth at once: the roundel was never written, or it should be printed in this place, to raise a smile. |
| 13912 |
At the town entry, the gendarme culled him like a wayside flower; and a moment later, two persons, in a high state of surprise, were confronted in the Commissary's office. For if the Cigarette was surprised to be arrested, the Commissary was no less taken aback by the appearance and appointments of his captive. |
| 13913 |
It was certainly good to be away from this lady, and better still to sit down to an excellent dinner in the inn. Here, too, the despised travellers scraped acquaintance with their next neighbour, a gentleman of these parts, returned from the day's sport, who had the good taste to find pleasure in their society. |
| 13914 |
But upon all this, and the romance of St. Andrews in general, the reader must consult the works of Mr. Andrew Lang; who has written of it but the other day in his dainty prose and with his incommunicable humour, and long ago in one of his best poems, with grace, and local truth, and a note of unaffected pathos. |
| 13915 |
The fact has not been suffered to encroach on the truth of the imagination. I still see Magus Muir two hundred years ago; a desert place, quite uninclosed; in the midst, the primate's carriage fleeing at the gallop; the assassins loose reined in pursuit, Burley Balfour, pistol in hand, among the first. |
| 13916 |
I read him up in every printed book that I could lay my hands on. I even dug among the Wodrow manuscripts, sitting shame faced in the very room where my hero had been tortured two centuries before, and keenly conscious of my youth in the midst of other and (as I fondly thought) more gifted students. |
| 13917 |
All was vain: that he had passed a riotous nonage, that he was a zealot, that he twice displayed (compared with his grotesque companions) some tincture of soldierly resolution and even of military common sense, and that he figured memorably in the scene on Magus Muir, so much and no more could I make out. |
| 13918 |
How small a thing creates an immortality! I do not think he can have been a man entirely commonplace; but had he not thrown his cloak about his mouth, or had the witnesses forgot to chronicle the action, he would not thus have haunted the imagination of my boyhood, and to day he would scarce delay me for a paragraph. |
| 13919 |
Not a soul would venture out; all that night, the minister dwelt alone with his terrors in the manse; and when the day dawned, and men made bold to go about the streets, they found the devil had come indeed for Mr. Thomson. This manse of Anstruther Easter has another and a more cheerful association. |
| 13920 |
For to this day there still survives a relic of the long winter evenings when the sailors of the great Armada crouched about the hearths of the Fair Islanders, the planks of their own lost galleon perhaps lighting up the scene, and the gale and the surf that beat about the coast contributing their melancholy voices. |
| 13921 |
And his grandson, a good looking little boy, much better dressed than the lordly evangelist, and speaking with a silken English accent very foreign to the scene, accompanied me for a while in my exploration of the island. I suppose this little fellow is now my lord, and wonder how much he remembers of the Fair Isle. |
| 13922 |
Posthumous ambition perhaps requires an atmosphere of roses; and the more rugged excitant of Wick east winds had made another boy of me. To go down in the diving dress, that was my absorbing fancy; and with the countenance of a certain handsome scamp of a diver, Bob Bain by name, I gratified the whim. |
| 13923 |
One moment, the salt wind was whistling round my night capped head; the next, I was crushed almost double under the weight of the helmet. As that intolerable burthern was laid upon me, I could have found it in my heart (only for shame's sake) to cry off from the whole enterprise. But it was too late. |
| 13924 |
Except that I could move and feel, I was like a man fallen in a catalepsy. But time was scarce given me to realise my isolation; the weights were hung upon my back and breast, the signal rope was thrust into my unresisting hand; and setting a twenty pound foot upon the ladder, I began ponderously to descend. |
| 13925 |
These must bear in mind the great density of the water of the sea, and the surprising results of transplantation to that medium. To understand a little what these are, and how a man's weight, so far from being an encumbrance, is the very ground of his agility, was the chief lesson of my submarine experience. |
| 13926 |
You might bathe, now in the flaws of fine weather, that we pathetically call our summer, now in a gale of wind, with the sand scourging your bare hide, your clothes thrashing abroad from underneath their guardian stone, the froth of the great breakers casting you headlong ere it had drowned your knees. |
| 13927 |
Maybe it still flourishes in its native spot; for boys and their pastimes are swayed by periodic forces inscrutable to man; so that tops and marbles reappear in their due season, regular like the sun and moon; and the harmless art of knucklebones has seen the fall of the Roman empire and the rise of the United States. |
| 13928 |
The thing was so well known that it had worn a rut in the commerce of Great Britain; and the grocers, about the due time, began to garnish their windows with our particular brand of luminary. We wore them buckled to the waist upon a cricket belt, and over them, such was the rigour of the game, a buttoned top coat. |
| 13929 |
For the love of more recondite joys, which we cannot estimate, which, it may be, we should envy, the man had willingly forgone both comfort and consideration. "His mind to him a kingdom was"; and sure enough, digging into that mind, which seems at first a dust heap, we unearth some priceless jewels. |
| 13930 |
Thus, at least, looking in the bosom of the miser, consideration detects the poet in the full tide of life, with more, indeed, of the poetic fire than usually goes to epics; and tracing that mean man about his cold hearth, and to and fro in his discomfortable house, spies within him a blazing bonfire of delight. |
| 13931 |
We shall see the trunk from which he draws his nourishment; but he himself is above and abroad in the green dome of foliage, hummed through by winds and nested in by nightingales. And the true realism were that of the poets, to climb up after him like a squirrel, and catch some glimpse of the heaven for which he lives. |
| 13932 |
For before Mikita was led into so dire a situation he was tempted, and temptations are beautiful at least in part; and a work which dwells on the ugliness of crime and gives no hint of any loveliness in the temptation, sins against the modesty of life, and even when a Tolstoi writes it, sinks to melodrama. |
| 13933 |
The peasants are not understood; they saw their life in fairer colours; even the deaf girl was clothed in poetry for Mikita, or he had never fallen. And so, once again, even an Old Bailey melodrama, without some brightness of poetry and lustre of existence, falls into the inconceivable and ranks with fairy tales. |
| 13934 |
These are notes that please the great heart of man. Not only love, and the fields, and the bright face of danger, but sacrifice and death and unmerited suffering humbly supported, touch in us the vein of the poetic. We love to think of them, we long to try them, we are humbly hopeful that we may prove heroes also. |
| 13935 |
Upon these grounds, there are some among us who claim to have lived longer and more richly than their neighbours; when they lay asleep they claim they were still active; and among the treasures of memory that all men review for their amusement, these count in no second place the harvests of their dreams. |
| 13936 |
I should have said he studied, or was by way of studying, at Edinburgh College, which (it may be supposed) was how I came to know him. Well, in his dream life, he passed a long day in the surgical theatre, his heart in his mouth, his teeth on edge, seeing monstrous malformations and the abhorred dexterity of surgeons. |
| 13937 |
It seemed to him that he was in the first floor of a rough hill farm. The room showed some poor efforts at gentility, a carpet on the floor, a piano, I think, against the wall; but, for all these refinements, there was no mistaking he was in a moorland place, among hillside people, and set in miles of heather. |
| 13938 |
Will it be thought ungenerous, after I have been so liberally ladling out praise to my unseen collaborators, if I here toss them over, bound hand and foot, into the arena of the critics? For the business of the powders, which so many have censured, is, I am relieved to say, not mine at all but the Brownies'. |
| 13939 |
There was not one hint about him of the beggar's emphasis, the outburst of revolting gratitude, the rant and cant, the "God bless you, Kind, Kind gentleman," which insults the smallness of your alms by disproportionate vehemence, which is so notably false, which would be so unbearable if it were true. |
| 13940 |
The self respecting poor beg from each other; never from the rich. To live in the frock coated ranks of life, to hear canting scenes of gratitude rehearsed for twopence, a man might suppose that giving was a thing gone out of fashion; yet it goes forward on a scale so great as to fill me with surprise. |
| 13941 |
Gratitude without familarity, gratitude otherwise than as a nameless element in a friendship, is a thing so near to hatred that I do not care to split the difference. Until I find a man who is pleased to receive obligations, I shall continue to question the tact of those who are eager to confer them. |
| 13942 |
It is one which you must decide entirely for yourself; all that I can do is to bring under your notice some of the materials of that decision; and I will begin, as I shall probably conclude also, by assuring you that all depends on the vocation. To know what you like is the beginning of wisdom and of old age. |
| 13943 |
But even with devotion, you may remind me, even with unfaltering and delighted industry, many thousand artists spend their lives, if the result be regarded, utterly in vain: a thousand artists, and never one work of art. But the vast mass of mankind are incapable of doing anything reasonably well, art among the rest. |
| 13944 |
The worthless artist would not improbably have been a quite incompetent baker. And the artist, even if he does not amuse the public, amuses himself; so that there will always be one man the happier for his vigils. This is the practical side of art: its inexpugnable fortress for the true practitioner. |
| 13945 |
The consciousness of how much the artist is (and must be) a law to himself, debauches the small heads. Perceiving recondite merits very hard to attain, making or swallowing artistic formulae, or perhaps falling in love with some particular proficiency of his own, many artists forget the end of all art: to please. |
| 13946 |
The French have a romantic evasion for one employment, and call its practitioners the Daughters of Joy. The artist is of the same family, he is of the Sons of Joy, chose his trade to please himself, gains his livelihood by pleasing others, and has parted with something of the sterner dignity of man. |
| 13947 |
But the artist steps forth out of the crowd and proposes to delight: an impudent design, in which it is impossible to fail without odious circumstances. The poor Daughter of Joy, carrying her smiles and finery quite unregarded through the crowd, makes a figure which it is impossible to recall without a wounding pity. |
| 13948 |
She is the type of the unsuccessful artist. The actor, the dancer, and the singer must appear like her in person, and drain publicly the cup of failure. But though the rest of us escape this crowning bitterness of the pillory, we all court in essence the same humiliation. We all profess to be able to delight. |
| 13949 |
We all pledge ourselves to be able to continue to delight. And the day will come to each, and even to the most admired, when the ardour shall have declined and the cunning shall be lost, and he shall sit by his deserted booth ashamed. Then shall he see himself condemned to do work for which he blushes to take payment. |
| 13950 |
Thus in old age, when occupation and comfort are most needful, the writer must lay aside at once his pastime and his breadwinner. The painter indeed, if he succeed at all in engaging the attention of the public, gains great sums and can stand to his easel until a great age without dishonourable failure. |
| 13951 |
What you may decently expect, if you have some talent and much industry, is such an income as a clerk will earn with a tenth or perhaps a twentieth of your nervous output. Nor have you the right to look for more; in the wages of the life, not in the wages of the trade, lies your reward; the work is here the wages. |
| 13952 |
And in so far as you may mean the countenance of other artists you would put your finger on one of the most essential and enduring pleasures of the career of art. But in so far as you should have an eye to the commendations of the public or the notice of the newspapers, be sure you would but be cherishing a dream. |
| 13953 |
It is true that in certain esoteric journals the author (for instance) is duly criticised, and that he is often praised a great deal more than he deserves, sometimes for qualities which he prided himself on eschewing, and sometimes by ladies and gentlemen who have denied themselves the privilege of reading his work. |
| 13954 |
A man may have done well for years, and then he may fail; he will hear of his failure. Or he may have done well for years, and still do well, but the critics may have tired of praising him, or there may have sprung up some new idol of the instant, some "dust a little gilt," to whom they now prefer to offer sacrifice. |
| 13955 |
It is not strange if we are tempted to despair of good. We ask too much. Our religions and moralities have been trimmed to flatter us, till they are all emasculate and sentimentalised, and only please and weaken. Truth is of a rougher strain. In the harsh face of life, faith can read a bracing gospel. |
| 13956 |
Man is indeed marked for failure in his efforts to do right. But where the best consistently miscarry, how tenfold more remarkable that all should continue to strive; and surely we should find it both touching and inspiriting, that in a field from which success is banished, our race should not cease to labour. |
| 13957 |
Nor can we stop with man. A new doctrine, received with screams a little while ago by canting moralists, and still not properly worked into the body of our thoughts, lights us a step farther into the heart of this rough but noble universe. For nowadays the pride of man denies in vain his kinship with the original dust. |
| 13958 |
Does it stop, then, with the ant? Rather this desire of well doing and this doom of frailty run through all the grades of life: rather is this earth, from the frosty top of Everest to the next margin of the internal fire, one stage of ineffectual virtues and one temple of pious tears and perseverance. |
| 13959 |
And as we dwell, we living things, in our isle of terror and under the imminent hand of death, God forbid it should be man the erected, the reasoner, the wise in his own eyes God forbid it should be man that wearies in well doing, that despairs of unrewarded effort, or utters the language of complaint. |
| 13960 |
He may have never been remarked upon the breach at the head of the army; at least he shall have lost his teeth on the camp bread. The idealism of serious people in this age of ours is of a noble character. It never seems to them that they have served enough; they have a fine impatience of their virtues. |
| 13961 |
Trying to be kind and honest will require all his thoughts; a mortified appetite is never a wise companion; in so far as he has had to mortify an appetite, he will still be the worse man; and of such an one a great deal of cheerfulness will be required in judging life, and a great deal of humility in judging others. |
| 13962 |
He has an ambitious soul who would ask more; he has a hopeful spirit who should look in such an enterprise to be successful. There is indeed one element in human destiny that not blindness itself can controvert: whatever else we are intended to do, we are not intended to succeed; failure is the fate allotted. |
| 13963 |
A man may naturally disclaim all moral kinship with the Reverend Mr. Zola or the hobgoblin old lady of the dolls; for these are gross and naked instances. And yet in each of us some similar element resides. The sight of a pleasure in which we cannot or else will not share moves us to a particular impatience. |
| 13964 |
People are nowadays so fond of resisting temptations; here is one to be resisted. They are fond of self denial; here is a propensity that cannot be too peremptorily denied. There is an idea abroad among moral people that they should make their neighbours good. One person I have to make good: myself. |
| 13965 |
The first was the very difficult and deadly business I had still to handle; the second, the place that I was in. The tall, black city, and the numbers and movement and noise of so many folk, made a new world for me, after the moorland braes, the sea sands and the still country sides that I had frequented up to then. |
| 13966 |
The whole thing, besides, gave me a look of running with the hare and hunting with the hounds that was little to my fancy. I determined, therefore, to be done at once with Mr. Stewart and the whole Jacobitical side of my business, and to profit for that purpose by the guidance of the porter at my side. |
| 13967 |
By what I could spy in the windows, and by the respectable persons that passed out and in, I saw the houses to be very well occupied; and the whole appearance of the place interested me like a tale. I was still gazing, when there came a sudden brisk tramp of feet in time and clash of steel behind me. |
| 13968 |
Turning quickly, I was aware of a party of armed soldiers, and, in their midst, a tall man in a great coat. He walked with a stoop that was like a piece of courtesy, genteel and insinuating: he waved his hands plausibly as he went, and his face was sly and handsome. I thought his eye took me in, but could not meet it. |
| 13969 |
This procession went by to a door in the close, which a serving man in a fine livery set open; and two of the soldier lads carried the prisoner within, the rest lingering with their firelocks by the door. There can nothing pass in the streets of a city without some following of idle folk and children. |
| 13970 |
It went through my country head she might be wondering at my new clothes; with that, I blushed to my hair, and at the sight of my colouring it is to be supposed she drew her own conclusions, for she moved her gillies farther down the close, and they fell again to this dispute, where I could hear no more of it. |
| 13971 |
The old rampart ran among fields, the like of them I had never seen for artfulness of agriculture; I was pleased, besides, to be so far in the still countryside; but the shackles of the gibbet clattered in my head; and the mope and mows of the old witch, and the thought of the dead men, hag rode my spirits. |
| 13972 |
I had no thought but to be done with the next stage, and have myself fully committed; to a person circumstanced as I was, the appearance of closing a door on hesitation and temptation was itself extremely tempting; and I was the more disappointed, when I came to Prestongrange's house, to be informed he was abroad. |
| 13973 |
But I fear I read with little profit; and the weather falling cloudy, the dusk coming up earlier than usual, and my cabinet being lighted with but a loophole of a window, I was at last obliged to desist from this diversion (such as it was), and pass the rest of my time of waiting in a very burthensome vacuity. |
| 13974 |
To a political case, I need scarce tell a young man of your education, we approach with very different thoughts from one which is criminal only. Salus populi suprema lex is a maxim susceptible of great abuse, but it has that force which we find elsewhere only in the laws of nature: I mean it has the force of necessity. |
| 13975 |
But for me, who am just a plain man or scarce a man yet the plain duties must suffice. I can think but of two things, of a poor soul in the immediate and unjust danger of a shameful death, and of the cries and tears of his wife that still tingle in my head. I cannot see beyond, my lord. It's the way that I am made. |
| 13976 |
On the Monday I betook me for the first time to a barber's, and was very well pleased with the result. Thence to the Advocate's, where the red coats of the soldiers showed again about his door, making a bright place in the close. I looked about for the young lady and her gillies: there was never a sign of them. |
| 13977 |
Under cover of this mirth, Prestongrange got forth of the chamber, and I was left, like a fish upon dry land, in that very unsuitable society. I could never deny, in looking back upon what followed, that I was eminently stockish; and I must say the ladies were well drilled to have so long a patience with me. |
| 13978 |
Hence this broad hint that was given me across the harpsichord. In the midst of the piece of music, one of the younger misses, who was at a window over the close, cried on her sisters to come quick, for there was "Grey eyes again." The whole family trooped there at once, and crowded one another for a look. |
| 13979 |
My embarrassment began to be a little mingled and lightened with a sense of fun; and when the aunt smiled at me from her embroidery, and the three daughters unbent to me like a baby, all with "papa's orders" written on their faces, there were times when I could have found it in my heart to smile myself. |
| 13980 |
Your personal part in it, the treacherous one of holding the poor wretch in talk, your accomplices a pack of ragged Highland gillies. And it can be shown, my great Mr. Balfour it can be shown, and it will be shown, trust me that has a finger in the pie it can be shown, and shall be shown, that you were paid to do it. |
| 13981 |
For all that, it was unmistakable this interview had been designed, perhaps rehearsed, with the consent of both; it was plain my adversaries were in earnest to try me by all methods; and now (persuasion, flattery, and menaces having been tried in vain) I could not but wonder what would be their next expedient. |
| 13982 |
And in the meanwhile let us return to gentler methods. You must not bear any grudge upon my friend, Mr. Simon, who did but speak by his brief. And even if you did conceive some malice against myself, who stood by and seemed rather to hold a candle, I must not let that extend to innocent members of my family. |
| 13983 |
To morrow they will be going to Hope Park, where I think it very proper you should make your bow. Call for me first, when I may possibly have something for your private hearing; then you shall be turned abroad again under the conduct of my misses; and until that time repeat to me your promise of secrecy. |
| 13984 |
This is a rural road which runs on the north side over against the city. Thence I could see the whole black length of it tail down, from where the castle stands upon its crags above the loch in a long line of spires and gable ends, and smoking chimneys, and at the sight my heart swelled in my bosom. |
| 13985 |
I had out faced these men, I would continue to out face them; come what might, I would stand by the word spoken. The sense of my own constancy somewhat uplifted my spirits, but not much. At the best of it there was an icy place about my heart, and life seemed a black business to be at all engaged in. |
| 13986 |
The other was the girl, the daughter of James More. I had seen but little of her; yet my view was taken and my judgment made. I thought her a lass of a clean honour, like a man's; I thought her one to die of a disgrace; and now I believed her father to be at that moment bargaining his vile life for mine. |
| 13987 |
Catrine's a good lass enough, and a good hearted, and lets herself be deaved all day with a runt of an auld wife like me. But, ye see, there's the weak bit. She's daft about that long, false, fleeching beggar of a father of hers, and red mad about the Gregara, and proscribed names, and King James, and a wheen blethers. |
| 13988 |
I had my studies to complete: I had to be called into some useful business; I had yet to take my part of service in a place where all must serve; I had yet to learn, and know, and prove myself a man; and I had so much sense as blush that I should be already tempted with these further on and holier delights and duties. |
| 13989 |
I knew that he was quite unfit to be a husband who was not prepared to be a father also; and for a boy like me to play the father was a mere derision. When I was in the midst of these thoughts and about half way back to town I saw a figure coming to meet me, and the trouble of my heart was heightened. |
| 13990 |
They have sought to bribe me; they offered me hills and valleys. And to day that sleuth hound told me how I stood, and to what a length he would go to butcher and disgrace me. I am to be brought in a party to the murder; I am to have held Glenure in talk for money and old clothes; I am to be killed and shamed. |
| 13991 |
But no sooner were we beyond the view of the promenaders, than the fashion of his countenance changed. "You tam lowland scoon'rel!" cries he, and hit me a buffet on the jaw with his closed fist. I paid him as good or better on the return; whereupon he stepped a little back and took off his hat to me decorously. |
| 13992 |
We went through the sanctuary, up the Canongate, in by the Netherbow, and straight to Prestongrange's door, talking as we came and arranging the details of our affair. The footman owned his master was at home, but declared him engaged with other gentlemen on very private business, and his door forbidden. |
| 13993 |
One thing was requisite some strong friend or wise adviser. The country must be full of such, both able and eager to support me, or Lovat and the Duke and Prestongrange had not been nosing for expedients; and it made me rage to think that I might brush against my champions in the street and be no wiser. |
| 13994 |
Now there's four places where a person can be summoned: at his dwelling house; at a place where he has resided forty days; at the head burgh of the shire where he ordinarily resorts; or lastly (if there be ground to think him forth of Scotland) at the cross of Edinburgh, and the pier and shore of Leith, for sixty days. |
| 13995 |
Then would follow a fresh delay till I got fresh authority, and they had disavowed the officer military man, notoriously ignorant of the law, and that I ken the cant of it. Then the journey a third time; and there we should be on the immediate heels of the trial before I had received my first instruction. |
| 13996 |
The Advocate, who is not without some spunks of a remainder decency, has wrung your life safe out of Simon and the Duke. He has refused to put you on your trial, and refused to have you killed; and there is the clue to their ill words together, for Simon and the Duke can keep faith with neither friend nor enemy. |
| 13997 |
Since Catriona dwelled there, and her kinsfolk the Glengyle Macgregors appeared almost certainly to be employed against me, it was just one of the few places I should have kept away from; and being a very young man, and beginning to be very much in love, I turned my face in that direction without pause. |
| 13998 |
As a slave to my conscience and common sense, however, I took a measure of precaution. Coming over the crown of a bit of a rise in the road, I clapped down suddenly among the barley and lay waiting. After a while, a man went by that looked to be a Highlandman, but I had never seen him till that hour. |
| 13999 |
Both ladies were within the house; and upon my perceiving them together by the open door, I plucked off my hat and said, "Here was a lad come seeking saxpence," which I thought might please the dowager. Catriona ran out to greet me heartily, and, to my surprise, the old lady seemed scarce less forward than herself. |
| 14000 |
At last the matchmaker had a better device, which was to leave the pair of us alone. When my suspicions are anyway roused it is sometimes a little the wrong side of easy to allay them. But though I knew what breed she was of, and that was a breed of thieves, I could never look in Catriona's face and disbelieve her. |
| 14001 |
Yet I could tell myself I had advanced some way, and that her heart had beat and her blood flowed at thoughts of me. After that honour she had done me I could offer no more trivial civility. It was even hard for me to speak; a certain lifting in her voice had knocked directly at the door of my own tears. |
| 14002 |
My heart was bitter. I blamed myself and the girl and hated both of us: her for the vile crew that she was come of, myself for my wanton folly to have stuck my head in such a byke of wasps. Catriona set her fingers to her lips and whistled once, with an exceeding clear, strong, mounting note, as full as a ploughman's. |
| 14003 |
I have been the more careful to narrate this passage of my reflections, because I think it is of some utility, and may serve as an example to young men. But there is reason (they say) in planting kale, and even in ethic and religion, room for common sense. It was already close on Alan's hour, and the moon was down. |
| 14004 |
The wind although still high, was very mild, the sun shone strong, and Alan began to suffer in proportion. From Prestonpans he had me aside to the field of Gladsmuir, where he exerted himself a great deal more than needful to describe the stages of the battle. Thence, at his old round pace, we travelled to Cockenzie. |
| 14005 |
No doubt it was in all ways well chosen for a secret embarcation, if the secret had been kept; and even now that it was out, and the place watched, we were able to creep unperceived to the front of the sandhills, where they look down immediately on the beach and sea. But here Alan came to a full stop. |
| 14006 |
I stood where he had left me, with my hands behind my back; Alan sat with his head turned watching me; and the boat drew smoothly away. Of a sudden I came the nearest hand to shedding tears, and seemed to myself the most deserted solitary lad in Scotland. With that I turned my back upon the sea and faced the sandhills. |
| 14007 |
These thoughts brought me to the head of the beach. I cast a look behind, the boat was nearing the brig, and Alan flew his handkerchief for a farewell, which I replied to with the waving of my hand. But Alan himself was shrunk to a small thing in my view, alongside of this pass that lay in front of me. |
| 14008 |
It made a hard climb, being steep, and the sand like water underfoot. But I caught hold at last by the long bent grass on the brae top, and pulled myself to a good footing. The same moment men stirred and stood up here and there, six or seven of them, ragged like knaves, each with a dagger in his hand. |
| 14009 |
There they sat about their captive in a part of a circle and gazed upon him silently like something dangerous, perhaps a lion or a tiger on the spring. Presently this attention was relaxed. They drew nearer together, fell to speech in the Gaelic, and very cynically divided my property before my eyes. |
| 14010 |
We were at one time close at the foot of Berwick Law on the south side; at another, as we passed over some open hills, I spied the lights of a clachan and the old tower of a church among some trees not far off, but too far to cry for help, if I had dreamed of it. At last we came again within sound of the sea. |
| 14011 |
There was moonlight, though not much; and by this I could see the three huge towers and broken battlements of Tantallon, that old chief place of the Red Douglases. The horse was picketed in the bottom of the ditch to graze, and I was led within, and forth into the court, and thence into the tumble down stone hall. |
| 14012 |
With the growing of the dawn I could see it clearer and clearer; the straight crags painted with sea birds' droppings like a morning frost, the sloping top of it green with grass, the clan of white geese that cried about the sides, and the black, broken buildings of the prison sitting close on the sea's edge. |
| 14013 |
I found he was deep in the free trade, and used the rains of Tantallon for a magazine of smuggled merchandise. As for a gauger, I do not believe he valued the life of one at half a farthing. But that part of the coast of Lothian is to this day as wild a place, and the commons there as rough a crew, as any in Scotland. |
| 14014 |
All the time of my stay on the rock we lived well. We had small ale and brandy, and oatmeal, of which we made our porridge night and morning. At times a boat came from the Castleton and brought us a quarter of mutton, for the sheep upon the rock we must not touch, these being specially fed to market. |
| 14015 |
There were times when I thought I could have heard the pious sound of psalms out of the martyr's dungeons, and seen the soldiers tramp the ramparts with their glinting pipes, and the dawn rising behind them out of the North Sea. No doubt it was a good deal Andie and his tales that put these fancies in my head. |
| 14016 |
He was extraordinarily well acquainted with the story of the rock in all particulars, down to the names of private soldiers, his father having served there in that same capacity. He was gifted besides with a natural genius for narration, so that the people seemed to speak and the things to be done before your face. |
| 14017 |
I could not honestly deny but what I liked him; I soon saw that he liked me; and indeed, from the first I had set myself out to capture his good will. An odd circumstance (to be told presently) effected this beyond my expectation; but even in early days we made a friendly pair to be a prisoner and his gaoler. |
| 14018 |
It seemed to me a safe place, as though I was escaped there out of my troubles. No harm was to be offered me; a material impossibility, rock and the deep sea, prevented me from fresh attempts; I felt I had my life safe and my honour safe, and there were times when I allowed myself to gloat on them like stolen waters. |
| 14019 |
Now I would take this lightly enough; tell myself that so long as I stood well with Catriona Drummond, the opinion of the rest of man was but moonshine and spilled water; and thence pass off into those meditations of a lover which are so delightful to himself and must always appear so surprisingly idle to a reader. |
| 14020 |
It's a queer tale, and no very creditable, the way you tell it; and I'm far frae minting that is other than the way that ye believe it. As for yoursel', ye seem to me rather a dacent like young man. But me, that's aulder and mair judeecious, see perhaps a wee bit further forrit in the job than what ye can dae. |
| 14021 |
He was fond of a lass and fond of a glass, and fond of a ran dan; but I could never hear tell that he was muckle use for honest employment. Frae ae thing to anither, he listed at last for a sodger and was in the garrison of this fort, which was the first way that ony of the Dales cam to set foot upon the Bass. |
| 14022 |
Sorrow upon that service! The governor brewed his ain ale; it seems it was the warst conceivable. The rock was proveesioned free the shore with vivers, the thing was ill guided, and there were whiles when they but to fish and shoot solans for their diet. To crown a', thir was the Days of the Persecution. |
| 14023 |
Two things I saw plain: the first, that I must not build too high on Andie, who had shrunk against the wall and stood there, as pale as death, till the affair was over; the second, the strength of my own position with the Highlanders, who must have received extraordinary charges to be tender of my safety. |
| 14024 |
The truth was unbelievable, so much I had to grant, and it seemed cruel hard I should be posted as a liar and a coward, and have never consciously omitted what it was possible that I should do. I repeated this form of words with a kind of bitter relish, and re examined in that light the steps of my behaviour. |
| 14025 |
Her family, I remembered, had remarked on Catriona's eyes and even named her for their colour; and she herself had been much in the habit to address me with a broad pronunciation, by way of a sniff, I supposed, at my rusticity. No doubt, besides, but she lived in the same house as this letter came from. |
| 14026 |
To what terrors they endured upon the rock, where they were now deserted without the countenance of any civilised person or so much as the protection of a Bible, no limit can be set; nor had they any brandy left to be their consolation, for even in the haste and secrecy of our departure Andie had managed to remove it. |
| 14027 |
We were in the Pool the next day long ere two; and there was nothing left for me but to sit and wait. I felt little alacrity upon my errand. I would have been glad of any passable excuse to lay it down; but none being to be found, my uneasiness was no less great than if I had been running to some desired pleasure. |
| 14028 |
The rain had somewhat washed the upper parts of me, but I was still bogged as high as to the knees; I streamed water; I was so weary I could hardly limp, and my face was like a ghost's. I stood certainly more in need of a change of raiment and a bed to lie on, than of all the benefits in Christianity. |
| 14029 |
The minister himself and a sprinkling of those about the door observed our entrance at the moment and immediately forgot the same; the rest either did not hear or would not hear or would not be heard; and I sat amongst my friends and enemies unremarked. The first that I singled out was Prestongrange. |
| 14030 |
As for Simon Fraser, he appeared like a blot, and almost a scandal, in the midst of that attentive congregation, digging his hands in his pockets, shifting his legs, clearing his throat, and rolling up his bald eyebrows and shooting out his eyes to right and left, now with a yawn, now with a secret smile. |
| 14031 |
The last word of the blessing was scarce out of the minister's mouth before Stewart had me by the arm. We were the first to be forth of the church, and he made such extraordinary expedition that we were safe within the four walls of a house before the street had begun to be thronged with the home going congregation. |
| 14032 |
It was plain he had a word to say, and waited for the fit occasion. It came presently. Colstoun had wound up one of his speeches with some expression of their duty to their client. His brother sheriff was pleased, I suppose, with the transition. He took the table in his confidence with a gesture and a look. |
| 14033 |
I believe I hung not the least back in this affair while there was life to be saved; but I own I thought myself extremely hazarded, and I own I think it would be a pity for a young man, with some idea of coming to the Bar, to ingrain upon himself the character of a turbulent, factious fellow before he was yet twenty. |
| 14034 |
That he should have so much good nature as to forgive me was surprising enough; that he could wish to take me up and serve me seemed impossible; and I began to seek some ulterior meaning. One was plain. If I became his guest, repentance was excluded; I could never think better of my present design and bring any action. |
| 14035 |
But I had some warrant for my incredulity in the behaviour of that court of young advocates that hung about in the hope of patronage. The sudden favour of a lad not previously heard of troubled them at first out of measure; but two days were not gone by before I found myself surrounded with flattery and attention. |
| 14036 |
Should not these make a good match? Her first intromission in politics but I must not tell you that story, the authorities have decided you are to hear it otherwise and from a livelier narrator. This new example is more serious, however; and I am afraid I must alarm you with the intelligence that she is now in prison. |
| 14037 |
It might please the authorities to give to it the colour of an escape; but I knew better I knew it must be the fulfilment of a bargain. The same course of thought relieved me of the least alarm for Catriona. She might be thought to have broke prison for her father; she might have believed so herself. |
| 14038 |
But if I were to appear with the same publicity as a visitor to Catriona in her prison the world would scarce stint to draw conclusions, and the true nature of James More's escape must become evident to all. This was the little problem I had to set him of a sudden, and to which he had so briskly found an answer. |
| 14039 |
Old Lady Allardyce walked there alone in the garden, in her hat and mutch, and having a silver mounted staff of some black wood to lean upon. As I alighted from my horse, and drew near to her with congees, I could see the blood come in her face, and her head fling into the air like what I had conceived of empresses. |
| 14040 |
You have not perhaps forgot a day when you were so kind as to escort three very tedious misses to Hope Park? I have the less cause to forget it myself, because you was so particular obliging as to introduce me to some of the principles of the Latin grammar, a thing which wrote itself profoundly on my gratitude. |
| 14041 |
I say it was weak minded of me, for I knew no more of her than the outside; but it was the wisest stroke I could have hit upon. She is a very staunch, brave nature, but I think she has been little used with tenderness; and at that caress (though to say the truth, it was but lightly given) her heart went out to me. |
| 14042 |
The two younger misses were very willing to discuss a point of my habiliment, because that was in the line of their chief thoughts. I cannot say that they appeared any other way conscious of my presence; and though always more than civil, with a kind of heartless cordiality, could not hide how much I wearied them. |
| 14043 |
As for the aunt, she was a wonderful still woman; and I think she gave me much the same attention as she gave the rest of the family, which was little enough. The eldest daughter and the Advocate himself were thus my principal friends, and our familiarity was much increased by a pleasure that we took in common. |
| 14044 |
This was her own thought, for she had been taken with my account of Alison Hastie, and desired to see the lass herself. We found her once more alone indeed, I believe her father wrought all day in the fields and she curtsied dutifully to the gentry folk and the beautiful young lady in the riding coat. |
| 14045 |
She had passed her word, she said, and I must be a good lad. It was impossible to burst the door, even if it had been mannerly; it was impossible I should leap from the window, being seven storeys above ground. All I could do was to crane over the close and watch for their reappearance from the stair. |
| 14046 |
I had scarce the time to catch my breath in, and be ready to meet her, as she stepped upon the deck, smiling, and making my best bow, which was now vastly finer than some months before, when first I made it to her ladyship. No doubt we were both a good deal changed: she seemed to have shot up like a young, comely tree. |
| 14047 |
But for James More, my father, I have this much to say: he lay shackled in a prison; he is a plain honest soldier and a plain Highland gentleman; what they would be after he would never be guessing; but if he had understood it was to be some prejudice to a young gentleman like yourself, he would have died first. |
| 14048 |
O, I ken well enough it was for your father that you went, but when you were there you pleaded for me also. It is a thing I cannot speak of. There are two things I cannot think of into myself: and the one is your good words when you called yourself my little friend, and the other that you pleaded for my life. |
| 14049 |
We were besides the only creatures at all young on board the Rose, except a white faced boy that did my old duty to attend upon the table; and it came about that Catriona and I were left almost entirely to ourselves. We had the next seats together at the table, where I waited on her with extraordinary pleasure. |
| 14050 |
Whiles she would tell me old wives' tales, of which she had a wonderful variety, many of them from my friend red headed Niel. She told them very pretty, and they were pretty enough childish tales; but the pleasure to myself was in the sound of her voice, and the thought that she was telling and I listening. |
| 14051 |
Whiles, again, we would sit entirely silent, not communicating even with a look, and tasting pleasure enough in the sweetness of that neighbourhood. I speak here only for myself. Of what was in the maid's mind, I am not very sure that ever I asked myself; and what was in my own, I was afraid to consider. |
| 14052 |
It was enough for me to sit near by her on the deck; and I declare I scarce spent two thoughts upon the future, and was so well content with what I then enjoyed that I was never at the pains to imagine any further step; unless perhaps that I would be sometimes tempted to take her hand in mine and hold it there. |
| 14053 |
She was like curdled milk to me; her face was like a wooden doll's; I could have indifferently smitten her or grovelled at her feet, but she gave me not the least occasion to do either. No sooner the meal done than she betook herself to attend on Mrs. Gebbie, which I think she had a little neglected heretofore. |
| 14054 |
I believe he knew it was his duty (his wife having accepted charge of the girl) to have gone ashore with her and seen her safe: nothing would have induced him to have done so, since it must have involved the lose of his conveyance; and I think he made it up to his conscience by the loudness of his voice. |
| 14055 |
Up she stood on the bulwarks and held by a stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats, which made the enterprise more dangerous, and gave us rather more of a view of her stockings than would be thought genteel in cities. There was no minute lost, and scarce time given for any to interfere if they had wished the same. |
| 14056 |
We were no sooner in smooth water than the patroon, according to their beastly Hollands custom, stopped his boat and required of us our fares. Two guilders was the man's demand between three and four shillings English money for each passenger. But at this Catriona began to cry out with a vast deal of agitation. |
| 14057 |
Indeed, there was much for Scots folk to admire: canals and trees being intermingled with the houses; the houses, each within itself, of a brave red brick, the colour of a rose, with steps and benches of blue marble at the cheek of every door, and the whole town so clean you might have dined upon the causeway. |
| 14058 |
I spread my cloak upon a builder's stone, and made her sit there; she would have kept her hold upon me, for she still shook with the late affronts; but I wanted to think clear, disengaged myself, and paced to and fro before her, in the manner of what we call a smuggler's walk, belabouring my brains for any remedy. |
| 14059 |
I suppose it was in the lane where the women jostled us; but there is only the one thing certain, that my purse was gone. "You will have thought of something good," said she, observing me to pause. At the pinch we were in, my mind became suddenly clear as a perspective glass, and I saw there was no choice of methods. |
| 14060 |
Once beyond the houses, there was neither moon nor stars to guide us; only the whiteness of the way in the midst and a blackness of an alley on both hands. The walking was besides made most extraordinary difficult by a plain black frost that fell suddenly in the small hours and turned that highway into one long slide. |
| 14061 |
I would have had her strip off her shoes and stockings and go barefoot. But she pointed out to me that the women of that country, even in the landward roads, appeared to be all shod. "I must not be disgracing my brother," said she, and was very merry with it all, although her face told tales of her. |
| 14062 |
There I drew on my credit, and asked to be recommended to some decent, retired lodging. My baggage being not yet arrived, I told him I supposed I should require his caution with the people of the house; and explained that, my sister being come for a while to keep house with me, I should be wanting two chambers. |
| 14063 |
The old gentleman was not so much deceived but what he discovered a willingness to be quit of me. But he was first of all a man of business; and knowing that my money was good enough, however it might be with my conduct, he was so far obliging as to send his son to be my guide and caution in the matter of a lodging. |
| 14064 |
The first thing in the morning I wrote word to Sprott to have her mails sent on, together with a line to Alan at his chief's; and had the same despatched, and her breakfast ready, ere I waked her. I was a little abashed when she came forth in her one habit, and the mud of the way upon her stockings. |
| 14065 |
My talk with the old Dutchman, and the lies to which I was constrained, had already given me a sense of how my conduct must appear to others; and now, after the strong admiration I had just experienced and the immoderacy with which I had continued my vain purchases, I began to think of it myself as very hazarded. |
| 14066 |
But I had rushed in where angels might have feared to tread, and there was no way out of that position save by behaving right while I was in it. I made a set of rules for my guidance; prayed for strength to be enabled to observe them, and as a more human aid to the same end purchased a study book in law. |
| 14067 |
But prayer is not very difficult, and the hitch comes in practice. In her presence, and above all if I allowed any beginning of familiarity, I found I had very little command of what should follow. But to sit all day in the same room with her, and feign to be engaged upon Heineccius, surpassed my strength. |
| 14068 |
The milk was spilt now, the word was out and the truth told. I had crept like an untrusty man into the poor maid's affections; she was in my hand like any frail, innocent thing to make or mar; and what weapon of defence was left me? It seemed like a symbol that Heineccius, my old protection, was now burned. |
| 14069 |
She was a child, she could not tell her own heart; I had surprised her weakness, I must never go on to build on that surprisal; I must keep her not only clear of reproach, but free as she had come to me. Down I sat before the fire, and reflected, and repented, and beat my brains in vain for any means of escape. |
| 14070 |
A bit of morning sun glinted in by the window pane, and showed it off; my bed, my mails, and washing dish, with some disorder of my clothes, and the unlighted chimney, made the only plenishing; no mistake but it looked bare and cold, and the most unsuitable, beggarly place conceivable to harbour a young lady. |
| 14071 |
And let me point out to your observation, Mr. Drummond, that it would have cost me money out of my pocket. For here is just what it comes to, that I had to pay through the nose for your neglect; and there is only the one story to it, just that you were so unloving and so careless as to have lost your daughter. |
| 14072 |
This is partly to be explained by the innocence and boldness of her character; and partly because James More, having sped so ill in his interview with me, or had his mouth closed by my invitation, said no word to her upon the subject. At the breakfast, accordingly, it soon appeared we were at cross purposes. |
| 14073 |
The meal at an end, he rose, got his great coat, and looking (as I thought) at me, observed he had affairs abroad. I took this for a hint that I was to be going also, and got up; whereupon the girl, who had scarce given me greeting at my entrance, turned her eyes upon me wide open with a look that bade me stay. |
| 14074 |
This appearance of indifference argued, upon her side, a good deal of anger very near to burst out. Upon his, I thought it horribly alarming; I made sure there was a tempest brewing there; and considering that to be the chief peril, turned towards him and put myself (so to speak) in the man's hands. |
| 14075 |
And in the second place, there was our very irregular situation to be kept in view, and the rather scant measure of satisfaction I had given James More that morning. I concluded, on the whole, that delay would not hurt anything, yet I would not delay too long neither; and got to my cold bed with a full heart. |
| 14076 |
She greeted me on my admission civilly, but withdrew at once to her own room, of which she shut the door. I made my disposition, and paid and dismissed the men so that she might hear them go, when I supposed she would at once come forth again to speak to me. I waited yet awhile, then knocked upon her door. |
| 14077 |
She shrank back like a person struck, her face flamed; but the blood sprang no faster up into her cheeks, than what it flowed back upon my own heart, at sight of it, with penitence and concern. I found no words to excuse myself, but bowed before her very deep, and went my ways out of the house with death in my bosom. |
| 14078 |
So she must sit alone in that room where she and I had been so merry, and in the blink of that chimney whose light had shone upon our many difficult and tender moments. There she must sit alone, and think of herself as of a maid who had most unmaidenly proffered her affections and had the same rejected. |
| 14079 |
As for James, he paid not so much heed to us, or to anything in nature but his pocket, and his belly, and his own prating talk. Before twelve hours were gone he had raised a small loan of me; before thirty, he had asked for a second and been refused. Money and refusal he took with the same kind of high good nature. |
| 14080 |
There were times when I was tempted to lend him a round sum, and see the last of him for good; but this would have been to see the last of Catriona as well, for which I was scarcely so prepared; and besides, it went against my conscience to squander my good money on one who was so little of a husband. |
| 14081 |
I could scarce refrain from shooting out my tongue at him, and could almost have wished that Alan had been there to have inquired a little further into that mention of his birth. Though, they tell me, the same was indeed not wholly regular. Meanwhile, I had opened Miss Grant's, and could not withhold an exclamation. |
| 14082 |
I saw I must speak soon before my courage was run out, but where to begin I knew not. In this painful situation, when the girl was as good as forced into my arms and had already besought my forbearance, any excess of pressure must have seemed indecent; yet to avoid it wholly would have a very cold like appearance. |
| 14083 |
Now you have refused me of your own clear free will, and there lives no father in the Highlands, or out of them, that can force on this marriage. I will see that your wishes are respected; I will make the same my business, as I have all through. But I think you might have that decency as to affect some gratitude. |
| 14084 |
This carried me home again at once, where I found the mails drawn out and ready fastened by the door, and the father and daughter with every mark upon them of a recent disagreement. Catriona was like a wooden doll; James More breathed hard, his face was dotted with white spots, and his nose upon one side. |
| 14085 |
I lit a taper and reviewed the rooms; in the first there remained nothing so much as to awake a memory of those who were gone; but in the second, in a corner of the floor, I spied a little heap that brought my heart into my mouth. She had left behind at her departure all that she had ever had of me. |
| 14086 |
It was a kerchief of a very pretty hue, on which I had frequently remarked; and once that she had it on, I remembered telling her (by way of a banter) that she wore my colours. There came a glow of hope and like a tide of sweetness in my bosom; and the next moment I was plunged back in a fresh despair. |
| 14087 |
You will find us in consequence a little poorly lodged in the auberge of a man Bazin on the dunes; but the situation is caller, and I make no doubt but we might spend some very pleasant days, when Mr. Stewart and I could recall our services, and you and my daughter divert yourselves in a manner more befitting your age. |
| 14088 |
It was near dark of a January day when we rode at last into the town of Dunkirk. We left our horses at the post, and found a guide to Bazin's Inn, which lay beyond the walls. Night was quite fallen, so that we were the last to leave that fortress, and heard the doors of it close behind us as we passed the bridge. |
| 14089 |
Indeed, I had often cause to love and to admire the man, but I never loved or admired him better than that night; and I could not help remarking to myself (what I was sometimes rather in danger of forgetting) that he had not only much experience of life, but in his own way a great deal of natural ability besides. |
| 14090 |
Enough that he drank a great deal, and told us very little that was to any possible purpose. As for the business with Alan, that was to be reserved for the morrow and his private hearing. It was the more easy to be put off, because Alan and I were pretty weary with four day's ride, and sat not very late after Catriona. |
| 14091 |
I slept little and ill. Long ere it was day, I had slipped from beside my bedfellow, and was warming myself at the fire or walking to and fro before the door. Dawn broke mighty sullen; but a little after, sprang up a wind out of the west, which burst the clouds, let through the sun, and set the mill to the turning. |
| 14092 |
There was something of spring in the sunshine, or else it was in my heart; and the appearing of the great sails one after another from behind the hill, diverted me extremely. At times I could hear a creak of the machinery; and by half past eight of the day, and I thought this dreary, desert place was like a paradise. |
| 14093 |
They took no heed of me, thrusting at each other like two furies. I can never think how I avoided being stabbed myself or stabbing one of these two Rodomonts, and the whole business turned about me like a piece of a dream; in the midst of which I heard a great cry from the stair, and Catriona sprang before her father. |
| 14094 |
He sprang upon that money, and we passed him by, and ran forth into the open. Upon three sides of the house were seamen hasting and closing in; a little nearer to us James More waved his hat as if to hurry them; and right behind him, like some foolish person holding up his hands, were the sails of the windmill turning. |
| 14095 |
Alan gave but one glance, and laid himself down to run. He carried a great weight in James More's portmanteau; but I think he would as soon have lost his life as cast away that booty which was his revenge; and he ran so that I was distressed to follow him, and marvelled and exulted to see the girl bounding at my side. |
| 14096 |
I could not trace even a hint of shame in any part of his behaviour; but he was great upon forgiveness; it seemed always fresh to him. I think he forgave me every time we met; and when after some four days he passed away in a kind of odour of affectionate sanctity, I could have torn my hair out for exasperation. |
| 14097 |
It is true we were not so wise as we might have been, and made a great deal of sorrow out of nothing; but you will find as you grow up that even the artful Miss Barbara, and even the valiant Mr. Alan, will be not so very much wiser than their parents. For the life of man upon this world of ours is a funny business. |
| 14098 |
There was nothing present but the lees of London and the commonplace of disrespectability; and the Prince had already fallen to yawning, and was beginning to grow weary of the whole excursion, when the swing doors were pushed violently open, and a young man, followed by a couple of commissionaires, entered the bar. |
| 14099 |
In this order the company visited two other taverns, where scenes were enacted of a like nature to that already described some refusing, some accepting, the favours of this vagabond hospitality, and the young man himself eating each rejected tart. On leaving the third saloon the young man counted his store. |
| 14100 |
I am descended from my ancestors by ordinary generation, and from them I inherited the very eligible human tenement which I still occupy and a fortune of three hundred pounds a year. I suppose they also handed on to me a hare brain humour, which it has been my chief delight to indulge. I received a good education. |
| 14101 |
Do not suppose that you and I are alone, or even exceptional in the highly reasonable desire that we profess. A large number of our fellowmen, who have grown heartily sick of the performance in which they are expected to join daily and all their lives long, are only kept from flight by one or two considerations. |
| 14102 |
Indeed, he was now the only man of the party who kept any command over his nerves. The bill was discharged, the Prince giving the whole change of the note to the astonished waiter; and the three drove off in a four wheeler. They were not long upon the way before the cab stopped at the entrance to a rather dark court. |
| 14103 |
Then the President received the entry money; and without more ado, introduced the two friends into the smoking room of the Suicide Club. The smoking room of the Suicide Club was the same height as the cabinet into which it opened, but much larger, and papered from top to bottom with an imitation of oak wainscot. |
| 14104 |
He was no more than skin and bone, was partly paralysed, and wore spectacles of such unusual power, that his eyes appeared through the glasses greatly magnified and distorted in shape. Except the Prince and the President, he was the only person in the room who preserved the composure of ordinary life. |
| 14105 |
They drank to each other's memories, and to those of notable suicides in the past. They compared and developed their different views of death some declaring that it was no more than blackness and cessation; others full of a hope that that very night they should be scaling the stars and commencing with the mighty dead. |
| 14106 |
I am not, properly speaking, a suicide at all; but, as it were, an honorary member. I rarely visit the club twice in two months. My infirmity and the kindness of the President have procured me these little immunities, for which besides I pay at an advanced rate. Even as it is my luck has been extraordinary. |
| 14107 |
The Colonel rapidly informed his friend of all that he had learned from the honorary member, and of the horrible alternative that lay before them. The Prince was conscious of a deadly chill and a contraction about his heart; he swallowed with difficulty, and looked from side to side like a man in a maze. |
| 14108 |
The players held their respiration, and only breathed by gasps. The Prince received another club; Geraldine had a diamond; but when Mr. Malthus turned up his card a horrible noise, like that of something breaking, issued from his mouth; and he rose from his seat and sat down again, with no sign of his paralysis. |
| 14109 |
The Prince, who sat second from the dealer's left, would receive, in the reverse mode of dealing practised at the club, the second last card. The third player turned up a black ace it was the ace of clubs. The next received a diamond, the next a heart, and so on; but the ace of spades was still undelivered. |
| 14110 |
He reversed the card; it was the ace of spades. A loud roaring filled his brain, and the table swam before his eyes. He heard the player on his right break into a fit of laughter that sounded between mirth and disappointment; he saw the company rapidly dispersing, but his mind was full of other thoughts. |
| 14111 |
He passed through the smoking room, where the bulk of the players were still consuming champagne, some of which he had himself ordered and paid for; and he was surprised to find himself cursing them in his heart. He put on his hat and greatcoat in the cabinet, and selected his umbrella from a corner. |
| 14112 |
The familiarity of these acts, and the thought that he was about them for the last time, betrayed him into a fit of laughter which sounded unpleasantly in his own ears. He conceived a reluctance to leave the cabinet, and turned instead to the window. The sight of the lamps and the darkness recalled him to himself. |
| 14113 |
I arranged this afternoon with a celebrated detective. Secrecy has been promised and paid for. Your own servants have been principally engaged in the affair. The house in Box Court has been surrounded since nightfall, and this, which is one of your own carriages, has been awaiting you for nearly an hour. |
| 14114 |
At least he, who had made something of a figure in earlier life, now dwelt in the Latin Quarter in great simplicity and solitude, and devoted much of his time to study. Mr. Scuddamore had made his acquaintance, and the pair would now and then dine together frugally in a restaurant across the street. |
| 14115 |
Mr. Scuddamore was moved to a very acute feeling of annoyance; he condemned Madame Zephyrine unmercifully; he even blamed himself; but when he found, next day, that she had taken no means to baulk him of his favourite pastime, he continued to profit by her carelessness, and gratify his idle curiosity. |
| 14116 |
That next day Madame Zephyrine received a long visit from a tall, loosely built man of fifty or upwards, whom Silas had not hitherto seen. His tweed suit and coloured shirt, no less than his shaggy side whiskers, identified him as a Britisher, and his dull grey eye affected Silas with a sense of cold. |
| 14117 |
He became as bold as he had formerly been timid. It seemed to him that if he came at all to the appointment, however late, he was clear from the charge of cowardice. Nay, now he began to suspect a hoax, and actually complimented himself on his shrewdness in having suspected and outmanoeuvred his mystifiers. |
| 14118 |
Go straight to the corner where the Luxembourg Gardens join the Boulevard; there you will find me waiting you. I trust you to follow my advice from point to point: and remember, if you fail me in only one particular, you will bring the sharpest trouble on a woman whose only fault is to have seen and loved you. |
| 14119 |
When at last he did so he was relieved to find it dark, and to all appearance, untenanted. He drew a long breath. Here he was, home again in safety, and this should be his last folly as certainly as it had been his first. The matches stood on a little table by the bed, and he began to grope his way in that direction. |
| 14120 |
Once more, with a great effort, he reached out the end of his finger to the spot he had already touched; but this time he leaped back half a yard, and stood shivering and fixed with terror. There was something in his bed. What it was he knew not, but there was something there. It was some seconds before he could move. |
| 14121 |
The Saratoga trunk was soon gutted of its contents, which made a considerable litter on the floor; and then Silas taking the heels and the Doctor supporting the shoulders the body of the murdered man was carried from the bed, and, after some difficulty, doubled up and inserted whole into the empty box. |
| 14122 |
He denied himself to his friends, and sat in a corner with his eyes fixed upon the Saratoga trunk in dismal contemplation. His own former indiscretions were now returned upon him in kind; for the observatory had been once more opened, and he was conscious of an almost continual study from Madame Zephyrine's apartment. |
| 14123 |
Arrived in the room, he sat down on the edge of his bed to recover from the agony that he had just endured; but he had hardly taken his position when he was recalled to a sense of his peril by the action of the boots, who had knelt beside the trunk, and was proceeding officiously to undo its elaborate fastenings. |
| 14124 |
The fellow offered to show him to the smoking room when he had done; and although he would have much preferred to return at once to his perilous treasure, he had not the courage to refuse, and was shown downstairs to the black, gas lit cellar, which formed, and possibly still forms, the divan of the Craven Hotel. |
| 14125 |
Two very sad betting men were playing billiards, attended by a moist, consumptive marker; and for the moment Silas imagined that these were the only occupants of the apartment. But at the next glance his eye fell upon a person smoking in the farthest corner, with lowered eyes and a most respectable and modest aspect. |
| 14126 |
The suggestion of the boots that his trunk was full of gold inspired him with all manner of new terrors, if he so much as dared to close an eye; and the presence in the smoking room, and under an obvious disguise, of the loiterer from Box Court convinced him that he was once more the centre of obscure machinations. |
| 14127 |
Midnight had sounded some time, when, impelled by uneasy suspicions, Silas opened his bedroom door and peered into the passage. It was dimly illuminated by a single jet of gas; and some distance off he perceived a man sleeping on the floor in the costume of an hotel under servant. Silas drew near the man on tiptoe. |
| 14128 |
The Prince stood by, watching with a composed countenance and his hands behind his back. The body was quite stiff, and it cost Silas a great effort, both moral and physical, to dislodge it from its position, and discover the face. Prince Florizel started back with an exclamation of painful surprise. |
| 14129 |
He arrived in London at last, in the early season, with as little observation as he could desire; and as he was an orphan and had none but distant relatives who lived in the provinces, it was almost as a foreigner that he installed himself in the capital of the country for which he had shed his blood. |
| 14130 |
Brackenbury paused under some trees, and as he did so he caught sight of a hansom cabman making him a sign that he was disengaged. The circumstance fell in so happily to the occasion that he at once raised his cane in answer, and had soon ensconced himself in the London gondola. "Where to, sir?" asked the driver. |
| 14131 |
The man had an object in view, he was hastening towards a definite end; and Brackenbury was at once astonished at the fellow's skill in picking a way through such a labyrinth, and a little concerned to imagine what was the occasion of his hurry. He had heard tales of strangers falling ill in London. |
| 14132 |
Did the driver belong to some bloody and treacherous association? and was he himself being whirled to a murderous death? The thought had scarcely presented itself, when the cab swung sharply round a corner and pulled up before the garden gate of a villa in a long and wide road. The house was brilliantly lighted up. |
| 14133 |
He was surprised that the cabman should have stopped so immediately in front of a house where a reception was being held; but he did not doubt it was the result of accident, and sat placidly smoking where he was, until he heard the trap thrown open over his head. "Here we are, sir," said the driver. |
| 14134 |
There is a gentlemen's party in this house. I do not know whether the master be a stranger to London and without acquaintances of his own; or whether he is a man of odd notions. But certainly I was hired to kidnap single gentlemen in evening dress, as many as I pleased, but military officers by preference. |
| 14135 |
A young man, slender and singularly handsome, came forward and greeted him with an air at once courtly and affectionate. Hundreds of candles, of the finest wax, lit up a room that was perfumed, like the staircase, with a profusion of rare and beautiful flowering shrubs. A side table was loaded with tempting viands. |
| 14136 |
He determined to be at the bottom of this minor mystery at once; and strolling into the ante room, found a deep window recess concealed by curtains of the fashionable green. Here he hurriedly ensconced himself; nor had he to wait long before the sound of steps and voices drew near him from the principal apartment. |
| 14137 |
In a place so great as London accidents must continually happen; and the best that we can hope is to remedy them with as small delay as possible. I will not deny that I fear you have made a mistake and honoured my poor house by inadvertence; for, to speak openly, I cannot at all remember your appearance. |
| 14138 |
And why did he collect his visitors at hazard from the streets? Brackenbury remembered that he had already delayed too long, and hastened to join the company. Many had left during his absence; and counting the Lieutenant and his host, there were not more than five persons in the drawing room recently so thronged. |
| 14139 |
Bound by an unhappy oath, too lightly sworn, he finds it necessary, without the help of law, to rid the earth of an insidious and bloody villain. Already two of our friends, and one of them my own born brother, have perished in the enterprise. He himself, or I am much deceived, is taken in the same fatal toils. |
| 14140 |
It still wanted ten or fifteen minutes of the appointed time; the rain fell heavily, and the adventurers sheltered themselves below some pendant ivy, and spoke in low tones of the approaching trial. Suddenly Geraldine raised his finger to command silence, and all three bent their hearing to the utmost. |
| 14141 |
A single candle burned in the great paved kitchen, which was destitute of the customary furniture; and as the party proceeded to ascend from thence by a flight of winding stairs, a prodigious noise of rats testified still more plainly to the dilapidation of the house. Their conductor preceded them, carrying the candle. |
| 14142 |
Even in the twilight they could see his upper teeth bare and glistening, for his mouth was open like that of a hound about to leap. The man had evidently been over the head in water but a minute or two before; and even while he stood there the drops kept falling from his wet clothes and pattered on the floor. |
| 14143 |
Wickedness seemed to him an essentially male attribute, and to pass one's days with a delicate woman, and principally occupied about trimmings, was to inhabit an enchanted isle among the storms of life. One fine morning he came into the drawing room and began to arrange some music on the top of the piano. |
| 14144 |
Lady Vandeleur, at the other end of the apartment, was speaking somewhat eagerly with her brother, Charlie Pendragon, an elderly young man, much broken with dissipation, and very lame of one foot. The private secretary, to whose entrance they paid no regard, could not avoid overhearing a part of their conversation. |
| 14145 |
He found the bandbox where it had been described, arranged his toilette with care, and left the house. The sun shone brightly; the distance he had to travel was considerable, and he remembered with dismay that the General's sudden irruption had prevented Lady Vandeleur from giving him money for a cab. |
| 14146 |
When he remembered that Lady Vandeleur was the wife of one and the sister of the other of these gladiators, his heart was touched with sympathy for a woman so distressingly misplaced in life. Even his own situation in the General's household looked hardly so pleasing as usual in the light of these violent transactions. |
| 14147 |
He had hardly recognised the fact before he was some steps beyond upon the other side. But the fellow had had time to observe him; he was evidently much surprised to see a gentleman go by at so unusual a pace; and he came out into the lane and began to call after Harry with shouts of ironical encouragement. |
| 14148 |
He came to himself a moment afterwards, seated in a border of small rosebushes. His hands and knees were cut and bleeding, for the wall had been protected against such an escalade by a liberal provision of old bottles; and he was conscious of a general dislocation and a painful swimming in the head. |
| 14149 |
He took in these features of the scene with mechanical glances, but his mind was still unable to piece together or draw a rational conclusion from what he saw. And when he heard footsteps advancing on the gravel, although he turned his eyes in that direction, it was with no thought either for defence or flight. |
| 14150 |
A sort of maiden dignity and a desire to delay as long as possible the necessity for explanation moved Harry to refuse this chance of help, and to deny his own identity. He chose the tender mercies of the gardener, who was at least unknown to him, rather than the curiosity and perhaps the doubts of an acquaintance. |
| 14151 |
His first care was to draw down the blind, for Mr. Rolles still remained where they had left him, in an attitude of perplexity and thought. Then he emptied the broken bandbox on the table, and stood before the treasure, thus fully displayed, with an expression of rapturous greed, and rubbing his hands upon his thighs. |
| 14152 |
This was apparently clear of passengers; for he suddenly seized Harry by the nape of the neck, and holding his face downward so that he could see nothing but the roadway and the doorsteps of the houses, pushed him violently before him down one street and up another for the space of perhaps a minute and a half. |
| 14153 |
Several persons interested themselves in one so unfortunate; and soon after he inherited a sum of money from a maiden aunt in Worcestershire. With this he married Prudence, and set sail for Bendigo, or according to another account, for Trincomalee, exceedingly content, and will the best of prospects. |
| 14154 |
So it was now with Mr. Rolles. He glanced hurriedly round; beheld, like Mr. Raeburn before him, nothing but the sunlit flower garden, the tall tree tops, and the house with blinded windows; and in a trice he had shut the case, thrust it into his pocket, and was hastening to his study with the speed of guilt. |
| 14155 |
None of these, thought Mr. Rolles, would know more on dangerous topics than he knew himself; none of them were fit to give him guidance in his present strait. At length in the smoking room, up many weary stairs, he hit upon a gentleman of somewhat portly build and dressed with conspicuous plainness. |
| 14156 |
Old John Vandeleur was of a remarkable force of body, and obviously broken to the most difficult exercises. He had neither the carriage of a swordsman, nor of a sailor, nor yet of one much inured to the saddle; but something made up of all these, and the result and expression of many different habits and dexterities. |
| 14157 |
His features were bold and aquiline; his expression arrogant and predatory; his whole appearance that of a swift, violent, unscrupulous man of action; and his copious white hair and the deep sabre cut that traversed his nose and temple added a note of savagery to a head already remarkable and menacing in itself. |
| 14158 |
The other diners had modestly retired into the angles of the room, and left the distinguished pair in a certain isolation, but the young clergyman was unrestrained by any sentiment of awe, and, marching boldly up, took his place at the nearest table. The conversation was, indeed, new to the student's ears. |
| 14159 |
To hand them about among the common sort of men is to set a price on Virtue's head; and if the Rajah of Kashgar a Prince, I understand, of great enlightenment desired vengeance upon the men of Europe, he could hardly have gone more efficaciously about his purpose than by sending us this apple of discord. |
| 14160 |
For some time he resisted its influence; but it grew upon him more and more, and a little before York he was fain to stretch himself upon one of the couches and suffer his eyes to close; and almost at the same instant consciousness deserted the young clergyman. His last thought was of his terrifying neighbour. |
| 14161 |
In the case of Mr. Rolles they proved one and all vain; he was harassed by a dozen different anxieties the old man in the other end of the carriage haunted him in the most alarming shapes; and in whatever attitude he chose to lie the diamond in his pocket occasioned him a sensible physical distress. |
| 14162 |
The sliding door into the lavatory stirred a little, and then a little more, and was finally drawn back for the space of about twenty inches. The lamp in the lavatory was unshaded, and in the lighted aperture thus disclosed, Mr. Rolles could see the head of Mr. Vandeleur in an attitude of deep attention. |
| 14163 |
John Vandeleur wore a fur travelling cap with lappets to protect his ears; and this may have combined with the sound of the express to keep him in ignorance of what was going forward. It is certain, at least, that he did not raise his head, but continued without interruption to pursue his strange employment. |
| 14164 |
But here was a stranger thing before his eyes; for John Vandeleur, it appeared, carried diamonds in the lining of his sleeve; and even as the young clergyman gazed, he could see one glittering brilliant drop after another into the hat box. He stood riveted to the spot, following this unusual business with his eyes. |
| 14165 |
Suddenly the Dictator appeared to find a difficulty; he employed both hands and stooped over his task; but it was not until after considerable manoeuvring that he extricated a large tiara of diamonds from the lining, and held it up for some seconds' examination before he placed it with the others in the hat box. |
| 14166 |
It was not a long interval, but it sufficed for Mr. Rolles; he was one of those who think swiftly on dangerous occasions; he decided on a course of action of a singularly daring nature; and although he felt he was setting his life upon the hazard, he was the first to break silence. "I beg your pardon," said he. |
| 14167 |
Indeed, the whole case is very much out of our way; and I should certainly have refused it had it not been for the reputation of the gentleman who entrusted it to my care, and, let me add, Mr. Scrymgeour, the interest I have been led to take in yourself by many complimentary and, I have no doubt, well deserved reports. |
| 14168 |
When he and his wife came to Edinburgh, you were already nearly one year old, and you had not yet been three months in their care. The secret has been well kept; but such is the fact. Your father is unknown, and I say again that I believe him to be the original of the offers I am charged at present to transmit to you. |
| 14169 |
The flat in Scotland Street looked mean in his eyes; his nostrils, for the first time, rebelled against the odour of broth; and he observed little defects of manner in his adoptive father which filled him with surprise and almost with disgust. The next day, he determined, should see him on his way to Paris. |
| 14170 |
For nearly half an hour he tried one street after another in the neighbourhood, until at length, recognising the folly of continued search, he started on a walk to compose his agitated feelings; for this proximity of an encounter with him to whom he could not doubt he owed the day had profoundly moved the young man. |
| 14171 |
That gentleman's fury carried him forward at a brisk pace, and he was so completely occupied in his angry thoughts that he never so much as cast a look behind him till he reached his own door. His house stood high up in the Rue Lepic, commanding a view of all Paris and enjoying the pure air of the heights. |
| 14172 |
A second glance, however, showed him a tall house next door presenting a gable to the garden, and in this gable a single window. He passed to the front and saw a ticket offering unfurnished lodgings by the month; and, on inquiry, the room which commanded the Dictator's garden proved to be one of those to let. |
| 14173 |
In order that he might not be entirely idle, and to give a certain colour to his way of life, Francis had purchased Euclid's Geometry in French, which he set himself to copy and translate on the top of his portmanteau and seated on the floor against the wall; for he was equally without chair or table. |
| 14174 |
What would he not have given for the courage to take up his opera glass and steadily inspect their attitude and expression? There, for aught he knew, his whole life was being decided and he not able to interfere, not able even to follow the debate, but condemned to sit and suffer where he was, in impotent anxiety. |
| 14175 |
At last the act came to an end. The curtain fell, and the people around him began to leave their places, for the interval. It was only natural that he should follow their example; and if he did so, it was not only natural but necessary that he should pass immediately in front of the box in question. |
| 14176 |
Should he raise his face and direct one long and affectionate look upon the lady who was either his sister or his betrothed? As he found himself thus struggling among so many alternatives, he had a vision of his old equable existence in the bank, and was assailed by a thought of regret for the past. |
| 14177 |
He was surprised to find that his head ached violently, and that he remembered not one word of the two acts which he had witnessed. As the excitement wore away, it was succeeded by an overweening appetite for sleep, and he hailed a cab and drove to his lodging in a state of extreme exhaustion and some disgust of life. |
| 14178 |
Next morning he lay in wait for Miss Vandeleur on her road to market, and by eight o'clock beheld her stepping down a lane. She was simply, and even poorly, attired; but in the carriage of her head and body there was something flexible and noble that would have lent distinction to the meanest toilette. |
| 14179 |
It seemed to Francis, as he slipped into a doorway, that the sunshine followed and the shadows fled before her as she walked; and he was conscious, for the first time, of a bird singing in a cage above the lane. He suffered her to pass the doorway, and then, coming forth once more, addressed her by name from behind. |
| 14180 |
But the young man remembered that the morrow was Tuesday, and promised himself some curious discoveries; all might be well, or all might be ill; he was sure, at least, to glean some curious information, and, perhaps, by good luck, get at the heart of the mystery which surrounded his father and his family. |
| 14181 |
That table which was partly visible to Francis through the chestnut leaves was destined to serve as a sideboard, and carried relays of plates and the materials for salad: the other, which was almost entirely concealed, had been set apart for the diners, and Francis could catch glimpses of white cloth and silver plate. |
| 14182 |
The party lingered over one dish after another, and then over a delicate dessert, with a bottle of old wine carefully uncorked by the hand of the Dictator himself. As it began to grow dark a lamp was set upon the table and a couple of candles on the sideboard; for the night was perfectly pure, starry, and windless. |
| 14183 |
Light overflowed besides from the door and window in the verandah, so that the garden was fairly illuminated and the leaves twinkled in the darkness. For perhaps the tenth time Miss Vandeleur entered the house; and on this occasion she returned with the coffee tray, which she placed upon the sideboard. |
| 14184 |
And next moment he saw his supposed father standing by the sideboard in the light of the candles. Talking over his shoulder all the while, Mr. Vandeleur poured out two cups of the brown stimulant, and then, by a rapid act of prestidigitation, emptied the contents of a tiny phial into the smaller of the two. |
| 14185 |
He seemed to perceive the conversation die away and grow less and less in vivacity and volume; but still no sign of any alarming or even notable event. Suddenly the ring of a glass breaking was followed by a faint and dull sound, as of a person who should have fallen forward with his head upon the table. |
| 14186 |
The young clergyman was limp and pallid, and his head rolled upon his shoulders at every step. Was he alive or dead? Francis, in spite of the Dictator's declaration, inclined to the latter view. A great crime had been committed; a great calamity had fallen upon the inhabitants of the house with the green blinds. |
| 14187 |
Branch after branch slipped from his grasp or broke under his weight; then he caught a stalwart bough under his armpit, and hung suspended for a second; and then he let himself drop and fell heavily against the table. A cry of alarm from the house warned him that his entrance had not been effected unobserved. |
| 14188 |
Very well, Mr. Scrymgeour. Let me tell you in a few words how you stand. You have entered my private residence by force, or perhaps by fraud, but certainly with no encouragement from me; and you come at a moment of some annoyance, a guest having fainted at my table, to besiege me with your protestations. |
| 14189 |
The Dictator, having found no trace of his quarry, was returning by the other way. Francis was a stalwart young fellow; but he was no match for his adversary whether in strength or skill; and after a few ineffectual struggles he resigned himself entirely to his captor. "What do you want with me?" said he. |
| 14190 |
It was both late and early for the majority of the frequenters of the establishment. Only two or three persons, all men, were dotted here and there at separate tables in the hall; and Francis was too much occupied by his own thoughts to observe their presence. He drew the handkerchief from his pocket. |
| 14191 |
A hand was laid upon his shoulder, lightly but firmly, and a quiet voice, which yet had in it the ring of command, uttered these words in his ear "Close the casket, and compose your face." Looking up, he beheld a man, still young, of an urbane and tranquil presence, and dressed with rich simplicity. |
| 14192 |
His mind was full of concern; what to do with the diamond, whether to return it to its owner, whom he judged unworthy of this rare possession, or to take some sweeping and courageous measure and put it out of the reach of all mankind at once and for ever, was a problem too grave to be decided in a moment. |
| 14193 |
For many reasons this residence was especially dear to the heart of Prince Florizel; he never drew near to it without enjoying that sentiment of home coming so rare in the lives of the great; and on the present evening he beheld its tall roof and mildly illuminated windows with unfeigned relief and satisfaction. |
| 14194 |
Yourself, as an agent, I must pardon; but your superiors shall dearly smart for their misconduct. What, have you any idea, is the cause of this impolitic and unconstitutional act? You will observe that I have as yet neither refused nor consented, and much may depend on your prompt and ingenuous answer. |
| 14195 |
We are both combatants against crime; only mine is the more lucrative and yours the more dangerous rank, and there is a sense in which both may be made equally honourable to a good man. I had rather, strange as you may think it, be a detective of character and parts than a weak and ignoble sovereign. |
| 14196 |
I go there from time to time to smoke and have a chat, and find him as great a creature as in the days of his prosperity; he has an Olympian air behind the counter; and although a sedentary life is beginning to tell upon his waistcoat, he is probably, take him for all in all, the handsomest tobacconist in London. |
| 14197 |
It was scarcely a companionship, but a coexistence in unsociability. Northmour's exceptional violence of temper made it no easy affair for him to keep the peace with any one but me; and as he respected my silent ways, and let me come and go as I pleased, I could tolerate his presence without concern. |
| 14198 |
Northmour spoke hotly, I remember, and I suppose I must have made some tart rejoinder. He leaped from his chair and grappled me; I had to fight, without exaggeration, for my life; and it was only with a great effort that I mastered him, for he was near as strong in body as myself, and seemed filled with the devil. |
| 14199 |
I believe I visited in this manner most of the wild and desolate regions both in England and Scotland; and, as I had neither friends nor relations, I was troubled with no correspondence, and had nothing in the nature of headquarters, unless it was the office of my solicitors, from whom I drew my income twice a year. |
| 14200 |
When the hill was open of the islet to the north, vessels must bear well to the eastward to clear Graden Ness and the Graden Bullers. In the lower ground, a streamlet ran among the trees, and, being dammed with dead leaves and clay of its own carrying, spread out every here and there, and lay in stagnant pools. |
| 14201 |
I watched it for some seconds in great surprise. When I had arrived in the afternoon the house had been plainly deserted; now it was as plainly occupied. It was my first idea that a gang of thieves might have broken in and be now ransacking Northmour's cupboards, which were many and not ill supplied. |
| 14202 |
But what should bring thieves to Graden Easter? And, again, all the shutters had been thrown open, and it would have been more in the character of such gentry to close them. I dismissed the notion, and fell back upon another. Northmour himself must have arrived, and was now airing and inspecting the pavilion. |
| 14203 |
I remember, I put the wound to my mouth, and stood for perhaps half a minute licking it like a dog, and mechanically gazing behind me over the waste links and the sea; and, in that space of time, my eye made note of a large schooner yacht some miles to the north east. Then I threw up the window and climbed in. |
| 14204 |
There were guests expected, that was plain; but why guests, when Northmour hated society? And, above all, why was the house thus stealthily prepared at dead of night? and why were the shutters closed and the doors padlocked? I effaced all traces of my visit, and came forth from the window feeling sobered and concerned. |
| 14205 |
She entered the pavilion, and, going at once to the upper storey, opened and set a light in one of the windows that looked towards the sea. Immediately afterwards the light at the schooner's masthead was run down and extinguished. Its purpose had been attained, and those on board were sure that they were expected. |
| 14206 |
A variety of feelings thus led me towards the beach, where I lay flat on my face in a hollow within six feet of the track that led to the pavilion. Thence, I should have the satisfaction of recognising the arrivals, and, if they should prove to be acquaintances, greeting them as soon as they had landed. |
| 14207 |
A little afterwards, four yachtsmen carrying a very heavy chest, and guided by a fifth with a lantern, passed close in front of me as I lay, and were admitted to the pavilion by the nurse. They returned to the beach, and passed me a second time with another chest, larger but apparently not so heavy as the first. |
| 14208 |
These two persons were unquestionably the guests for whom the house was made ready; and, straining eye and ear, I set myself to watch them as they passed. One was an unusually tall man, in a travelling hat slouched over his eyes, and a highland cape closely buttoned and turned up so as to conceal his face. |
| 14209 |
She was extremely pale; but in the light of the lantern her face was so marred by strong and changing shadows, that she might equally well have been as ugly as sin or as beautiful as I afterwards found her to be. When they were just abreast of me, the girl made some remark which was drowned by the noise of the wind. |
| 14210 |
At that moment he was somewhat paler than by nature; he wore a heavy frown; and his lips worked, and he looked sharply round him as he walked, like a man besieged with apprehensions. And yet I thought he had a look of triumph underlying all, as though he had already done much, and was near the end of an achievement. |
| 14211 |
He leaped on me without a word; something shone in his hand; and he struck for my heart with a dagger. At the same moment I knocked him head over heels. Whether it was my quickness, or his own uncertainty, I know not; but the blade only grazed my shoulder, while the hilt and his fist struck me violently on the mouth. |
| 14212 |
A dagger, or even a sharp knife, seemed out of keeping with the age in which we lived; and a gentleman landing from his yacht on the shore of his own estate, even although it was at night and with some mysterious circumstances, does not usually, as a matter of fact, walk thus prepared for deadly onslaught. |
| 14213 |
For greater security, I trod out the embers of the fire, and lit my lantern to examine the wound upon my shoulder. It was a trifling hurt, although it bled somewhat freely, and I dressed it as well as I could (for its position made it difficult to reach) with some rag and cold water from the spring. |
| 14214 |
I am not an angry man by nature, and I believe there was more curiosity than resentment in my heart. But war I certainly declared; and, by way of preparation, I got out my revolver, and, having drawn the charges, cleaned and reloaded it with scrupulous care. Next I became preoccupied about my horse. |
| 14215 |
The girl walked faster when she was with Northmour than when she was alone; and I conceived that any inclination between a man and a woman would rather delay than accelerate the step. Moreover, she kept a good yard free of him, and trailed her umbrella, as if it were a barrier, on the side between them. |
| 14216 |
Then with a start, as one who throws off preoccupation and puts energy again upon its mettle, she broke into a rapid and decisive walk. She also was much incensed by what had passed. She had forgotten where she was. And I beheld her walk straight into the borders of the quicksand where it is most abrupt and dangerous. |
| 14217 |
She did so, and turned round. There was not a tremor of fear in her behaviour, and she marched directly up to me like a queen. I was barefoot, and clad like a common sailor, save for an Egyptian scarf round my waist; and she probably took me at first for some one from the fisher village, straying after bait. |
| 14218 |
Nor could I think enough of one who, acting with so much boldness, yet preserved a maidenly air that was both quaint and engaging; for my wife kept an old fashioned precision of manner through all her admirable life an excellent thing in woman, since it sets another value on her sweet familiarities. |
| 14219 |
It was true, let me cudgel my imagination as I pleased, that I could invent no theory of her relations to Northmour; but I felt none the less sure of my conclusion because it was founded on instinct in place of reason, and, as I may say, went to sleep that night with the thought of her under my pillow. |
| 14220 |
It was she who first tore her hand away, and, forgetting all about her request and the promise she had sought to extort, ran at the top of her speed, and without turning, till she was out of sight. And then I knew that I loved her, and thought in my glad heart that she she herself was not indifferent to my suit. |
| 14221 |
When she had once more spoken about my danger and that, I understood, was her excuse for coming I, who had prepared a great deal of talk during the night, began to tell her how highly I valued her kind interest, and how no one had ever cared to hear about my life, nor had I ever cared to relate it, before yesterday. |
| 14222 |
The upper windows of the pavilion commanded a considerable spread of links in the direction of Graden Wester. To avoid observation, it was necessary to hug the beach until I had gained cover from the higher sand hills on the little headland, when I might strike across, through the hollows, for the margin of the wood. |
| 14223 |
Step by step I followed the prints; until, a quarter of a mile farther, I beheld them die away into the south eastern boundary of Graden Floe. There, whoever he was, the miserable man had perished. One or two gulls, who had, perhaps, seen him disappear, wheeled over his sepulchre with their usual melancholy piping. |
| 14224 |
I believe, but I am not sure, that I uttered a cry. The wind was driving the hat shoreward, and I ran round the border of the floe to be ready against its arrival. The gust fell, dropping the hat for a while upon the quicksand, and then, once more freshening, landed it a few yards from where I stood. |
| 14225 |
And, as it was blowing great guns from the sea and pouring with rain, the noises of the storm effectually concealed all others. It was, I dare say, half a minute before I regained my self possession. But for two circumstances, I should have thought I had been awakened by some new and vivid form of nightmare. |
| 14226 |
The conclusion was obvious. I had been wakened by some one flashing a bull's eye lantern in my face. It had been but a flash, and away. He had seen my face, and then gone. I asked myself the object of so strange a proceeding, and the answer came pat. The man, whoever he was, had thought to recognise me, and he had not. |
| 14227 |
As long as she remained, she declares that we two would have continued to quarrel; and I suppose that she was right, for when she was gone we fell at once into a sort of confidentiality. Northmour stared after her as she went away over the sand hill "She is the only woman in the world!" he exclaimed with an oath. |
| 14228 |
It was an anxious business this inspection, and left me down hearted. There were two doors and five windows to protect, and, counting Clara, only four of us to defend them against an unknown number of foes. I communicated my doubts to Northmour, who assured me, with unmoved composure, that he entirely shared them. |
| 14229 |
In the bed, which was drawn back against the wall, instead of standing, as I had last seen it, boldly across the window, sat Bernard Huddlestone, the defaulting banker. Little as I had seen of him by the shifting light of the lantern on the links, I had no difficulty in recognising him for the same. |
| 14230 |
His broken nose and high cheekbones gave him somewhat the air of a Kalmuck, and his light eyes shone with the excitement of a high fever. He wore a skull cap of black silk; a huge Bible lay open before him on the bed, with a pair of gold spectacles in the place, and a pile of other books lay on the stand by his side. |
| 14231 |
The green curtains lent a cadaverous shade to his cheek; and, as he sat propped on pillows, his great stature was painfully hunched, and his head protruded till it overhung his knees. I believe if he had not died otherwise, he must have fallen a victim to consumption in the course of but a very few weeks. |
| 14232 |
I have never been an eager, though always a great, reader; but I never knew books so insipid as those which I took up and cast aside that afternoon in the pavilion. Even talk became impossible, as the hours went on. One or other was always listening for some sound, or peering from an upstairs window over the links. |
| 14233 |
Moreover, as we were both convinced that the hollows of the links were alive with hidden spies upon our movements, we hoped that our appearance with the box might lead to a parley, and, perhaps, a compromise. It was nearly three when we issued from the pavilion. The rain had taken off; the sun shone quite cheerfully. |
| 14234 |
I have never seen the gulls fly so close about the house or approach so fearlessly to human beings. On the very doorstep one flapped heavily past our heads, and uttered its wild cry in my very ear. "There is an omen for you," said Northmour, who like all freethinkers was much under the influence of superstition. |
| 14235 |
The ground in this direction was very uneven; a hundred men might have lain hidden in as many square yards about my path. But I had not practised the business in vain, chose such routes as cut at the very root of concealment, and, by keeping along the most convenient ridges, commanded several hollows at a time. |
| 14236 |
It was not long before I was rewarded for my caution. Coming suddenly on to a mound somewhat more elevated than the surrounding hummocks, I saw, not thirty yards away, a man bent almost double, and running as fast as his attitude permitted, along the bottom of a gully. I had dislodged one of the spies from his ambush. |
| 14237 |
The lamp was brightly trimmed; the wine was good; the viands, although mostly cold, excellent of their sort. We seemed to have agreed tacitly; all reference to the impending catastrophe was carefully avoided; and, considering our tragic circumstances, we made a merrier party than could have been expected. |
| 14238 |
He was relating with great gusto, and seemingly no feeling of shame, the manoeuvres of a scoundrelly commission merchant whom he had known and studied in his youth, and we were all listening with an odd mixture of mirth and embarrassment when our little party was brought abruptly to an end in the most startling manner. |
| 14239 |
At that moment a very faint report was audible from without, and a ball shivered a pane of glass, and buried itself in the shutter two inches from my head. I heard Clara scream; and though I whipped instantly out of range and into a corner, she was there, so to speak, before me, beseeching to know if I were hurt. |
| 14240 |
I had seen just such a look before he attacked me, that March night, in the adjoining chamber; and, though I could make every allowance for his anger, I confess I trembled for the consequences. He gazed straight before him; but he could see us with the tail of his eye, and his temper kept rising like a gale of wind. |
| 14241 |
Suddenly, as I was thus closely watching his expression and prepared against the worst, I saw a change, a flash, a look of relief, upon his face. He took up the lamp which stood beside him on the table, and turned to us with an air of some excitement. "There is one point that we must know," said he. |
| 14242 |
From the window we could see the figure of a man in the moonlight; he stood motionless, his face uplifted to ours, and a rag of something white on his extended arm; and as we looked right down upon him, though he was a good many yards distant on the links, we could see the moonlight glitter on his eyes. |
| 14243 |
A loud, vague, and horrible noise accompanied the collapse, and a vast volume of flame went soaring up to heaven. It must have been visible at that moment from twenty miles out at sea, from the shore at Graden Wester, and far inland from the peak of Graystiel, the most eastern summit of the Caulder Hills. |
| 14244 |
I only remember running like a man in a panic, now carrying Clara altogether in my own arms, now sharing her weight with Northmour, now scuffling confusedly for the possession of that dear burden. Why we should have made for my camp in the Hemlock Den, or how we reached it, are points lost for ever to my recollection. |
| 14245 |
A couple of steps more brought me out of the foliage. The light of the morning lay cold and clear over that well known scene. The pavilion was but a blackened wreck; the roof had fallen in, one of the gables had fallen out; and, far and near, the face of the links was cicatrised with little patches of burnt furze. |
| 14246 |
An army might have marched from end to end and not a footfall given the alarm. If there were any belated birds in heaven, they saw the island like a large white patch, and the bridges like slim white spars, on the black ground of the river. High up overhead the snow settled among the tracery of the cathedral towers. |
| 14247 |
The gargoyles had been transformed into great false noses, drooping towards the point. The crockets were like upright pillows swollen on one side. In the intervals of the wind, there was a dull sound of dripping about the precincts of the church. The cemetery of St. John had taken its own share of the snow. |
| 14248 |
The clock was hard on ten when the patrol went by with halberds and a lantern, beating their hands; and they saw nothing suspicious about the cemetery of St. John. Yet there was a small house, backed up against the cemetery wall, which was still awake, and awake to evil purpose, in that snoring district. |
| 14249 |
The wind was freshening without; it drove the snow before it, and sometimes raised its voice in a victorious whoop, and made sepulchral grumblings in the chimney. The cold was growing sharper an the night went on. Villon, protruding his lips, imitated the gust with something between a whistle and a groan. |
| 14250 |
The blow took effect before he had time to utter a cry, before he had time to move. A tremor or two convulsed his frame; his hands opened and shut, his heels rattled on the floor; then his head rolled backward over one shoulder with the eyes wide open; and Thevenin Pensete's spirit had returned to Him who made it. |
| 14251 |
Villon broke out into hysterical laughter. He came a step forward and ducked a ridiculous bow at Thevenin, and laughed still louder. Then he sat down suddenly, all of a heap, upon a stool, and continued laughing bitterly as though he would shake himself to pieces. Montigny recovered his composure first. |
| 14252 |
Tabary was the last to help himself; he made a dash at the money, and retired to the other end of the apartment. Montigny stuck Thevenin upright in the chair, and drew out the dagger, which was followed by a jet of blood. "You fellows had better be moving," he said, as he wiped the blade on his victim's doublet. |
| 14253 |
Still it was judged wiser to slip out severally; and as Villon was himself in a hurry to escape from the neighbourhood of the dead Thevenin, and the rest were in a still greater hurry to get rid of him before he should discover the loss of his money, he was the first by general consent to issue forth into the street. |
| 14254 |
Only a few vapours, as thin as moonlight, fleeting rapidly across the stars. It was bitter cold; and by a common optical effect, things seemed almost more definite than in the broadest daylight. The sleeping city was absolutely still: a company of white hoods, a field full of little Alps, below the twinkling stars. |
| 14255 |
Now, wherever he went, he left an indelible trail behind him on the glittering streets; wherever he went he was still tethered to the house by the cemetery of St. John; wherever he went he must weave, with his own plodding feet, the rope that bound him to the crime and would bind him to the gallows. |
| 14256 |
She was freezing cold, and rigid like a stick. A little ragged finery fluttered in the wind about her hair, and her cheeks had been heavily rouged that same afternoon. Her pockets were quite empty; but in her stocking, underneath the garter, Villon found two of the small coins that went by the name of whites. |
| 14257 |
Two whites would have taken such a little while to squander; and yet it would have been one more good taste in the mouth, one more smack of the lips, before the devil got the soul, and the body was left to birds and vermin. He would like to use all his tallow before the light was blown out and the lantern broken. |
| 14258 |
His perspiration had dried upon him; and though the wind had now fallen, a binding frost was setting in stronger with every hour, and be felt benumbed and sick at heart. What was to be done? Late as was the hour, improbable as was success, he would try the house of his adopted father, the chaplain of St. Benoit. |
| 14259 |
It was a chance. It was worth trying at least, and he would go and see. On the way, two little accidents happened to him which coloured his musings in a very different manner. For, first, he fell in with the track of a patrol, and walked in it for some hundred yards, although it lay out of his direction. |
| 14260 |
He passed a street corner, where, not so long before, a woman and her child had been devoured by wolves. This was just the kind of weather, he reflected, when wolves might take it into their heads to enter Paris again; and a lone man in these deserted streets would run the chance of something worse than a mere scare. |
| 14261 |
He stopped and looked upon the place with an unpleasant interest it was a centre where several lanes intersected each other; and he looked down them all one after another, and held his breath to listen, lest he should detect some galloping black things on the snow or hear the sound of howling between him and the river. |
| 14262 |
Nor had he to wait long. A window was suddenly opened, and a pailful of slops splashed down upon the doorstep. Villon had not been unprepared for something of the sort, and had put himself as much in shelter as the nature of the porch admitted; but for all that, he was deplorably drenched below the waist. |
| 14263 |
Death from cold and exposure stared him in the face; he remembered he was of phthisical tendency, and began coughing tentatively. But the gravity of the danger steadied his nerves. He stopped a few hundred yards from the door where he had been so rudely used, and reflected with his finger to his nose. |
| 14264 |
The sound of his blows echoed through the house with thin, phantasmal reverberations, as though it were quite empty; but these had scarcely died away before a measured tread drew near, a couple of bolts were withdrawn, and one wing was opened broadly, as though no guile or fear of guile were known to those within. |
| 14265 |
His entertainer had a plate of meat in one hand and a jug of wine in the other. He set down the plate upon the table, motioning Villon to draw in his chair, and going to the sideboard, brought back two goblets, which he filled. "I drink to your better fortune," he said, gravely touching Villon's cup with his own. |
| 14266 |
The poor fellow wants supper, and takes it. So does the soldier in a campaign. Why, what are all these requisitions we hear so much about? If they are not gain to those who take them, they are loss enough to the others. The men at arms drink by a good fire, while the burgher bites his nails to buy them wine and wood. |
| 14267 |
I learned long ago that a gentleman should live chivalrously and lovingly to God, and the king, and his lady; and though I have seen many strange things done, I have still striven to command my ways upon that rule. It is not only written in all noble histories, but in every man's heart, if he will take care to read. |
| 14268 |
He had put up his horse with due care, and supped with due deliberation; and then, in a very agreeable frame of mind, went out to pay a visit in the grey of the evening. It was not a very wise proceeding on the young man's part. He would have done better to remain beside the fire or go decently to bed. |
| 14269 |
Denis de Beaulieu walked fast and was soon knocking at his friend's door; but though he promised himself to stay only a little while and make an early return, his welcome was so pleasant, and he found so much to delay him, that it was already long past midnight before he said good bye upon the threshold. |
| 14270 |
Plainly this lay no longer in the direction of his inn; but the hope of a little more light tempted him forward to reconnoitre. The lane ended in a terrace with a bartizan wall, which gave an out look between high houses, as out of an embrasure, into the valley lying dark and formless several hundred feet below. |
| 14271 |
Unfortunately, as he turned to beat a retreat, his foot rolled upon a pebble; he fell against the wall with an ejaculation, and his sword rang loudly on the stones. Two or three voices demanded who went there some in French, some in English; but Denis made no reply, and ran the faster down the lane. |
| 14272 |
Once upon the terrace, he paused to look back. They still kept calling after him, and just then began to double the pace in pursuit, with a considerable clank of armour, and great tossing of the torchlight to and fro in the narrow jaws of the passage. Denis cast a look around and darted into the porch. |
| 14273 |
He gave them a few minutes' grace for fear of accidents, and then groped about for some means of opening the door and slipping forth again. The inner surface was quite smooth, not a handle, not a moulding, not a projection of any sort. He got his finger nails round the edges and pulled, but the mass was immovable. |
| 14274 |
Denis recognised the bearings, and was gratified to find himself in such good hands. The room was strongly illuminated; but it contained little furniture except a heavy table and a chair or two, the hearth was innocent of fire, and the pavement was but sparsely strewn with rushes clearly many days old. |
| 14275 |
The upper lip was inordinately full, as though swollen by a blow or a toothache; and the smile, the peaked eyebrows, and the small, strong eyes were quaintly and almost comically evil in expression. Beautiful white hair hung straight all round his head, like a saint's, and fell in a single curl upon the tippet. |
| 14276 |
It occurred to him that this piece of tapestry covered the entrance to the chapel he had noticed from without. The old gentleman meanwhile surveyed Denis from head to foot with a smile, and from time to time emitted little noises like a bird or a mouse, which seemed to indicate a high degree of satisfaction. |
| 14277 |
This state of matters became rapidly insupportable; and Denis, to put an end to it, remarked politely that the wind had gone down. The old gentleman fell into a fit of silent laughter, so prolonged and violent that he became quite red in the face. Denis got upon his feet at once, and put on his hat with a flourish. |
| 14278 |
A light groining sprang from six stout columns, and hung down in two rich pendants from the centre of the vault. The place terminated behind the altar in a round end, embossed and honeycombed with a superfluity of ornament in relief, and pierced by many little windows shaped like stars, trefoils, or wheels. |
| 14279 |
She paused started, as if his yellow boots had conveyed some shocking meaning and glanced suddenly up into the wearer's countenance. Their eyes met; shame gave place to horror and terror in her looks; the blood left her lips; with a piercing scream she covered her face with her hands and sank upon the chapel floor. |
| 14280 |
When you took it into your head to dishonour my family and the name that I have borne, in peace and war, for more than three score years, you forfeited, not only the right to question my designs, but that of looking me in the face. If your father had been alive, he would have spat on you and turned you out of doors. |
| 14281 |
Three months ago a young captain began to stand near me every day in church. I could see that I pleased him; I am much to blame, but I was so glad that any one should love me; and when he passed me a letter, I took it home with me and read it with great pleasure. Since that time he has written many. |
| 14282 |
How he came to suspect me I cannot tell; but it is hard to keep anything from his knowledge; and this morning, as we came from mass, he took my hand in his, forced it open, and read my little billet, walking by my side all the while. When he had finished, he gave it back to me with great politeness. |
| 14283 |
She accepted it; and the pair passed out of the chapel, Blanche in a very drooping and shamefast condition, but Denis strutting and ruffling in the consciousness of a mission, and the boyish certainty of accomplishing it with honour. The Sire de Maletroit rose to meet them with an ironical obeisance. |
| 14284 |
Denis was in the acme of embarrassment. He looked round, as if to seek for inspiration, and seeing a stool, plumped down upon it for something to do. There he sat, playing with the guard of his rapier, and wishing himself dead a thousand times over, and buried in the nastiest kitchen heap in France. |
| 14285 |
His eyes wandered round the apartment, but found nothing to arrest them. There were such wide spaces between the furniture, the light fell so baldly and cheerlessly over all, the dark outside air looked in so coldly through the windows, that he thought he had never seen a church so vast, nor a tomb so melancholy. |
| 14286 |
He read the device upon the shield over and over again, until his eyes became obscured; he stared into shadowy corners until he imagined they were swarming with horrible animals; and every now and again he awoke with a start, to remember that his last two hours were running, and death was on the march. |
| 14287 |
Her face was bowed forward and covered with her hands, and she was shaken at intervals by the convulsive hiccup of grief. Even thus she was not an unpleasant object to dwell upon, so plump and yet so fine, with a warm brown skin, and the most beautiful hair, Denis thought, in the whole world of womankind. |
| 14288 |
Now he felt that no man could have the courage to leave a world which contained so beautiful a creature; and now he would have given forty minutes of his last hour to have unsaid his cruel speech. Suddenly a hoarse and ragged peal of cockcrow rose to their ears from the dark valley below the windows. |
| 14289 |
But he had a boy's heart, gloried in his finery, and walked through life like a child in a perpetual dramatic performance. If he were not Almaviva after all, it was not for lack of making believe. And he enjoyed the artist's compensation. If he were not really Almaviva, he was sometimes just as happy as though he were. |
| 14290 |
But her heart was not any more rightly placed, for that would have been impossible; and she had acquired a little air of melancholy, attractive enough in its way, but not good to see like the wholesome, sky scraping, boyish spirits of her lord. He, indeed, swam like a kite on a fair wind, high above earthly troubles. |
| 14291 |
Though the heaven had fallen, if he had played his part with propriety, Berthelini had been content! And the man's atmosphere, if not his example, reacted on his wife; for the couple doated on each other, and although you would have thought they walked in different worlds, yet continued to walk hand in hand. |
| 14292 |
Alas! when she went round with the tambourine, the golden youth of Castel le Gachis turned from her coldly. Here and there a single halfpenny was forthcoming; the net result of a collection never exceeded half a franc; and the Maire himself, after seven different applications, had contributed exactly twopence. |
| 14293 |
There were the two figures before the Commissary's house, each bolt upright, with head thrown back and eyes interrogating the starry heavens; the guitar wailed, shouted, and reverberated like half an orchestra; and the voices, with a crisp and spirited delivery, hurled the appropriate burden at the Commissary's window. |
| 14294 |
All the echoes repeated the functionary's name. It was more like an entr'acte in a farce of Moliere's than a passage of real life in Castel le Gachis. The Commissary, if he was not the first, was not the last of the neighbours to yield to the influence of music, and furiously throw open the window of his bedroom. |
| 14295 |
He was beside himself with rage. He leaned far over the window sill, raying and gesticulating; the tassel of his white night cap danced like a thing of life: he opened his mouth to dimensions hitherto unprecedented, and yet his voice, instead of escaping from it in a roar, came forth shrill and choked and tottering. |
| 14296 |
It was obvious that his instinct had not deceived him, for the male voice broke forth instantly in a towering passion. The undergraduate, who had not understood the significance of the woman's contribution, pricked up his ears at the change upon the man. "There's going to be a free fight," he opined. |
| 14297 |
He alone and it is to be noted, he was the worst singer of the three took the music seriously to heart, and judged the serenade from a high artistic point of view. Elvira, on the other hand, was preoccupied about their reception; and, as for Stubbs, he considered the whole affair in the light of a broad joke. |
| 14298 |
For all that, it was not a face to dislike; when the prettiness had vanished, it seemed as if a certain pale beauty might step in to take its place; and as both the mildness and the asperity were characters of youth, it might be hoped that, with years, both would merge into a constant, brave, and not unkindly temper. |
| 14299 |
We are here three artists benighted and without shelter, one a woman a delicate woman in evening dress in an interesting situation. This will not fail to touch the woman's heart of Madame, whom I perceive indistinctly behind Monsieur her husband, and whose face speaks eloquently of a well regulated mind. |
| 14300 |
The door opened directly upon the kitchen of the house, which was to all appearance the only sitting room. The furniture was both plain and scanty; but there were one or two landscapes on the wall handsomely framed, as if they had already visited the committee rooms of an exhibition and been thence extruded. |
| 14301 |
For the poor fellow was so overcome by this caress that he stopped with his mouth open in the middle of a word, and by the expression of his face plainly declared to all the company that his thoughts had been diverted into softer channels. If it had not been rather amiable, it would have been absurdly droll. |
| 14302 |
Well, we will not give in that we are finally beaten. We read together in those days the story of Braddock, and how, as he was carried dying from the scene of his defeat, he promised himself to do better another time: a story that will always touch a brave heart, and a dying speech worthy of a more fortunate commander. |
| 14303 |
It was traversed at that period by two roads alone; one, the imperial highway, bound to Brandenau in Gerolstein, descended the slope obliquely and by the easiest gradients. The other ran like a fillet across the very forehead of the hills, dipping into savage gorges, and wetted by the spray of tiny waterfalls. |
| 14304 |
The austere face of nature, the uncertain issue of his course, the open sky and the free air, delighted him like wine; and the hoarse chafing of a river on his left sounded in his ears agreeably. It was past eight at night before his toil was rewarded and he issued at last out of the forest on the firm white high road. |
| 14305 |
All around were dark, brass mounted cabinets and cupboards; dark shelves carrying ancient country crockery; guns and antlers and broadside ballads on the wall; a tall old clock with roses on the dial; and down in one corner the comfortable promise of a wine barrel. It was homely, elegant, and quaint. |
| 14306 |
It plays the same tune (and that's the favourite) over and over again, and yet does not weary of it like men fiddlers. It takes the mind out of doors: and though we should be grateful for good houses, there is, after all, no house like God's out of doors. And lastly, sir, it quiets a man down like saying his prayers. |
| 14307 |
To one who had passed a miserable night, the freshness of that hour was tonic and reviving; to steal a march upon his slumbering fellows, to be the Adam of the coming day, composed and fortified his spirits; and the Prince, breathing deep and pausing as he went, walked in the wet fields beside his shadow, and was glad. |
| 14308 |
Otto returned to his rock promontory; but his humour had in the meantime changed. The sun now shone more fairly on the pool; and over its brown, welling surface, the blue of heaven and the golden green of the spring foliage danced in fleeting arabesque. The eddies laughed and brightened with essential colour. |
| 14309 |
But you have come to that time of life, sir, when, if you will excuse me, you must look to have the rheumatism set in. Thirty to forty is, as one may say, their seed time. And this is a damp cold corner for the early morning and an empty stomach. If I might humbly advise you, sir, I would be moving. |
| 14310 |
You have one scale for women, another for men; one for princes, and one for farmer folk. On the prince who neglects his wife you can be most severe. But what of the lover who insults his mistress? You use the name of love. I should think this lady might very fairly ask to be delivered from love of such a nature. |
| 14311 |
That young politician, brimming with mysterious glances, offered to lend his convoy as far as to the high road; and Otto, in fear of some residuary jealousy and for the girl's sake, had not the courage to gainsay him; but he regarded his companion with uneasy glances, and devoutly wished the business at an end. |
| 14312 |
But the highway was an international undertaking and with its face set for distant cities, scorned the little life of Grunewald. Hence it was exceeding solitary. Near the frontier Otto met a detachment of his own troops marching in the hot dust; and he was recognised and somewhat feebly cheered as he rode by. |
| 14313 |
Nothing at least could be worse than to go on as he was going. In the inn at Beckstein he remarked, immediately upon his entrance, an intelligent young gentleman dining, with a book in front of him. He had his own place laid close to the reader, and with a proper apology, broke ground by asking what he read. |
| 14314 |
I would not have a student on the throne, though I would have one near by for an adviser. I would set forward as prince a man of a good, medium understanding, lively rather than deep; a man of courtly manner, possessed of the double art to ingratiate and to command; receptive, accommodating, seductive. |
| 14315 |
And he was still in a most equal temper when the party reached the top of that long hill that overlooks Mittwalden. Down in the bottom of a bowl of forest, the lights of the little formal town glittered in a pattern, street crossing street; away by itself on the right, the palace was glowing like a factory. |
| 14316 |
Shame hissed in Otto's ears. He reined up short and sat stunned in the saddle; and the singers continued to descend the hill without him. The song went to a rough, swashing, popular air; and long after the words became inaudible the swing of the music, rising and falling, echoed insult in the Prince's brain. |
| 14317 |
Otto dismounted; and as he did so a memory came back to him: a whisper of dishonest grooms and stolen corn, once heard, long forgotten, and now recurring in the nick of opportunity. He crossed the bridge, and, going up to a window, knocked six or seven heavy blows in a particular cadence, and, as he did so, smiled. |
| 14318 |
And now, when he was about midway of the descent, distant strains of music began to fall upon his ear from the ball room, where the court was dancing. They reached him faint and broken, but they touched the keys of memory; and through and above them Otto heard the ranting melody of the wood merchants' song. |
| 14319 |
Mere blackness seized upon his mind. Here he was, coming home; the wife was dancing, the husband had been playing a trick upon a lackey; and meanwhile, all about them, they were a by word to their subjects. Such a prince, such a husband, such a man, as this Otto had become! And he sped the faster onward. |
| 14320 |
The spectacle of this small society macerating in its own abuses was not perhaps instructive, but I have found it exceedingly diverting. The reigning Prince, Otto Johann Friedrich, a young man of imperfect education, questionable valour, and no scintilla of capacity, has fallen into entire public contempt. |
| 14321 |
She is much younger than the Prince, a girl of two and twenty, sick with vanity, superficially clever, and fundamentally a fool. She has a red brown rolling eye, too large for her face, and with sparks of both levity and ferocity; her forehead is high and narrow, her figure thin and a little stooping. |
| 14322 |
Gondremark, the true ruler of this unfortunate country, is a more complex study. His position in Grunewald, to which he is a foreigner, is eminently false; and that he should maintain it as he does, a very miracle of impudence and dexterity. His speech, his face, his policy, are all double: heads and tails. |
| 14323 |
Concurrently with, and tributary to, these warlike preparations, crushing taxes have been levied, journals have been suppressed, and the country, which three years ago was prosperous and happy, now stagnates in a forced inaction, gold has become a curiosity, and the mills stand idle on the mountain streams. |
| 14324 |
How long a course so tortuous can be pursued with safety I am incapable of guessing; not long, one would suppose; and yet this singular man has been treading the mazes for five years, and his favour at court and his popularity among the lodges still endure unbroken. I have the privilege of slightly knowing him. |
| 14325 |
Heavily and somewhat clumsily built, of a vast, disjointed, rambling frame, he can still pull himself together, and figure, not without admiration, in the saloon or the ball room. His hue and temperament are plentifully bilious; he has a saturnine eye; his cheek is of a dark blue where he has been shaven. |
| 14326 |
Yet he is himself of a commonplace ambition and greedy of applause. In talk, he is remarkable for a thirst of information, loving rather to hear than to communicate; for sound and studious views; and, judging by the extreme short sightedness of common politicians, for a remarkable provision of events. |
| 14327 |
Gondremark has thus some of the clumsier characters of the self made man, combined with an inordinate, almost a besotted, pride of intellect and birth. Heavy, bilious, selfish, inornate, he sits upon this court and country like an incubus. But it is probable that he preserves softer gifts for necessary purposes. |
| 14328 |
I shall now have much to add. I can say that the Prince, whom I had accused of idleness, is zealous in the department of police, taking upon himself those duties that are most distasteful. I shall be able to relate the burlesque incident of my arrest, and the singular interview with which you honour me at present. |
| 14329 |
I conceive I am a little more than quits. I owe you no explanation; yours has been the wrong. You, if you have studied my writing with intelligence, owe me a large debt of gratitude. And to conclude, as I have not yet finished my toilet, I imagine the courtesy of a turnkey to a prisoner would induce you to withdraw. |
| 14330 |
They crossed the fish pond, where the carp were leaping as thick as bees; they mounted, one after another, the various flights of stairs, snowed upon, as they went, with April blossoms, and marching in time to the great orchestra of birds. Nor did Otto pause till they had reached the highest terrace of the garden. |
| 14331 |
It is because you are a reigning sovereign that I cannot fight with you; and it is for the same reason that I have a right to criticise your action and your wife. You are in everything a public creature; you belong to the public, body and bone. You have with you the law, the muskets of the army, and the eyes of spies. |
| 14332 |
It is, after all, first cousin to gossip, which no one can deny to be amusing. For instance, if I were to tell you that the Princess and the Baron rode out together daily to inspect the cannon, it is either a piece of politics or scandal, as I turn my phrase. I am the alchemist that makes the transmutation. |
| 14333 |
And artful, in a sense, she was. Chafing that she was not a man, and could not shine by action, she had conceived a woman's part, of answerable domination; she sought to subjugate for by ends, to rain influence and be fancy free; and, while she loved not man, loved to see man obey her. It is a common girl's ambition. |
| 14334 |
Of all injured vanities, that of the reproved buffoon is the most savage; and when grave issues are involved, these petty stabs become unbearable. But Gondremark was a man of iron; he showed nothing; he did not even, like the common trickster, retreat because he had presumed, but held to his point bravely. |
| 14335 |
But the wheels of an interview are at the mercy of a thousand ruts; and even at Otto's entrance, the first jolt occurred. Gondremark, he saw, was gone; but there was the chair drawn close for consultation; and it pained him not only that this man had been received, but that he should depart with such an air of secrecy. |
| 14336 |
It was a narrow lane between great trees; the sunset at the end was all gold, and the rooks were flying overhead. There were nine, nine red roses; you gave me a kiss for each, and I told myself that every rose and every kiss should stand for a year of love. Well, in eighteen months there was an end. |
| 14337 |
He led her out by the private door, following where Gondremark had passed; they threaded a corridor or two, little frequented, looking on a court, until they came at last into the Prince's suite. The first room was an armoury, hung all about with the weapons of various countries, and looking forth on the front terrace. |
| 14338 |
He pointed to it without a word; she raised her eyebrows in silence; and they passed still forward into a matted corridor where four doors opened. One led to Otto's bedroom; one was the private door to Seraphina's. And here, for the first time, Otto left her hand, and stepping forward, shot the bolt. |
| 14339 |
So he was tossed in spirit; now bewailing his inconsequence and lack of temper, now flaming up in white hot indignation and a noble pity for himself. He paced his apartment like a leopard. There was danger in Otto, for a flash. Like a pistol, he could kill at one moment, and the next he might he kicked aside. |
| 14340 |
The pistol, you might say, was charged. And when jealousy from time to time fetched him a lash across the tenderest of his feeling, and sent a string of her fire pictures glancing before his mind's eye, the contraction of his face was even dangerous. He disregarded jealousy's inventions, yet they stung. |
| 14341 |
Feared: here was a sweet thought. Gotthold, too Gotthold, who had always used and regarded him as a mere peasant lad, had now been at the pains to warn him; Gotthold looked for something at his hands. Well, none should be disappointed; the Prince, too long beshadowed by the uxorious lover, should now return and shine. |
| 14342 |
This is the base and essence of our union; each had need of the other; each recognised, master and servant, lever and fulcrum, the complement of his endowment. Marriages, they say, are made in heaven: how much more these pure, alborious, intellectual fellowships, born to found empires! Nor is this all. |
| 14343 |
And then, as brave men are entitled, by prescriptive right as old as the world's history, to the alliance and the active help of Fortune, the punctual goddess stepped down from the machine. One of the Princess's ladies begged to enter; a man, it appeared, had brought a line for the Freiherr von Gondremark. |
| 14344 |
But, secondly, his vanity was still alarmed; he had failed to get the money; to morrow before noon he would have to disappoint old Killian; and in the eyes of that family which counted him so little, and to which he had sought to play the part of the heroic comforter, he must sink lower than at first. |
| 14345 |
It was a scheme as pleasing to the man as it was dishonourable in the prince; in which his frivolous nature found and took vengeance for the gravity and burthen of the afternoon. He chuckled as he thought of it: and Greisengesang heard him with wonder, and attributed his lively spirits to the skirmish of the morning. |
| 14346 |
What was he doing in that place? The money had been wrongly squandered, but that was largely by his own neglect. And he now proposed to embarrass the finances of this country which he had been too idle to govern. And he now proposed to squander the money once again, and this time for a private, if a generous end. |
| 14347 |
To wrestle alone with one's good angel is so hard! and so precious, at the proper time, is a companion certain to be less virtuous than oneself! It was a young man who came towards him a young man of small stature and a peculiar gait, wearing a wide flapping hat, and carrying, with great weariness, a heavy bag. |
| 14348 |
It was a desperate stroke to re enter at the point of the bayonet into his self esteem; and, like all such, it was fruitless in the end. He got to bed with the devil, it appeared: kicked and tumbled till the grey of the morning; and then fell inopportunely into a leaden slumber, and awoke to find it ten. |
| 14349 |
I had grown to disbelieve impartially in all; and if in the atlas of the sciences there were two charts I disbelieved in more than all the rest, they were politics and morals. I had a sneaking kindness for your vices; as they were negative, they flattered my philosophy; and I called them almost virtues. |
| 14350 |
In the midst of this sat the great Baron Gondremark in his shirt sleeves, his business for that day fairly at an end, and the hour arrived for relaxation. His expression, his very nature, seemed to have undergone a fundamental change. Gondremark at home appeared the very antipode of Gondremark on duty. |
| 14351 |
And before that woman, so little beloved, the Countess would appear at no disadvantage. It was the work of minutes. Von Rosen had the captain's eye in matters of the toilette; she was none of those who hang in Fabian helplessness among their finery and, after hours, come forth upon the world as dowdies. |
| 14352 |
She paused before the glowing jeweller's; she remarked and praised a costume in the milliner's window; and when she reached the lime tree walk, with its high, umbrageous arches and stir of passers by in the dim alleys, she took her place upon a bench and began to dally with the pleasures of the hour. |
| 14353 |
She held the paper by which all depended. Otto and Gondremark and Ratafia, and the state itself, hung light in her balances, as light as dust; her little finger laid in either scale would set all flying: and she hugged herself upon her huge preponderance, and then laughed aloud to think how giddily it might be used. |
| 14354 |
Instantly, with that curious passion which you may see any woman in the world display, on the most odd occasions, for a similar end, the Countess bent herself with singleness of mind to overcome this diffidence; and presently, sure enough, the child was seated on her knee, thumbing and glowering at her watch. |
| 14355 |
As to the main fact, he never swerved or faltered; he had come so heart sick and so cruelly humiliated from his talk with Gotthold, that he embraced the notion of imprisonment with something bordering on relief. Here was, at least, a step which he thought blameless; here was a way out of his troubles. |
| 14356 |
I am not a drop's blood to your Highness, or indeed to any one in this principality; or else I should dislike my orders. But as it is, and since there is nothing unnatural or unbecoming on my side, and your Highness takes it in good part, I begin to believe we may have a capital time together, sir a capital time. |
| 14357 |
Hidden among some lilac bushes, she enjoyed the great decorum of the arrest, and heard the dialogue of the two men die away along the path. Soon after, the rolling of a carriage and the beat of hoofs arose in the still air of the night, and passed speedily farther and fainter into silence. The Prince was gone. |
| 14358 |
She betrayed her emotion only by the brightness of her eyes and face, and by the almost insolent triumph with which she looked down upon the Princess. There were old scores of rivalry between them in more than one field; so at least von Rosen felt; and now she was to have her hour of victory in them all. |
| 14359 |
O, it will not happen twice! it is not common; beautiful and clever women look in vain for it. And you, you pitiful schoolgirl, tread this jewel under foot! you, stupid with your vanity! Before you try to govern kingdoms, you should first be able to behave yourself at home; home is the woman's kingdom. |
| 14360 |
She had never liked nor trusted Gondremark completely; she had still held it possible to find him false to friendship; but from that to finding him devoid of all those public virtues for which she had honoured him, a mere commonplace intriguer, using her for his own ends, the step was wide and the descent giddy. |
| 14361 |
This is the last that you will hear of me in love or anger. I have gone out of your life; you may breathe easy; you have now rid yourself of the husband who allowed you to desert him, of the Prince who gave you his rights, and of the married lover who made it his pride to defend you in your absence. |
| 14362 |
She recalled the scandal she had so royally braved; and alas! she had now no courage to confront it with. To be thought the mistress of that man: perhaps for that... She closed her eyes on agonising vistas. Swift as thought she had snatched a bright dagger from the weapons that shone along the wall. |
| 14363 |
From that world wide theatre of nodding heads and buzzing whisperers, in which she now beheld herself unpitiably martyred, one door stood open. At any cost, through any stress of suffering, that greasy laughter should be stifled. She closed her eyes, breathed a wordless prayer, and pressed the weapon to her bosom. |
| 14364 |
The Baron was announced, and entered. To him, Seraphina was a hated task: like the schoolboy with his Virgil, he had neither will nor leisure to remark her beauties; but when he now beheld her standing illuminated by her passion, new feelings flashed upon him, a frank admiration, a brief sparkle of desire. |
| 14365 |
The next moment, with oaths that she had never heard, he leaped at her in savage passion; clutched her as she recoiled; and in the very act, stumbled and drooped. She had scarce time to fear his murderous onslaught ere he fell before her feet. He rose upon one elbow; she still staring upon him, white with horror. |
| 14366 |
There came a knocking at the door; and she sprang to it and held it, panting like a beast, and with the strength of madness in her arms, till she had pushed the bolt. At this success a certain calm fell upon her reason. She went back and looked upon her victim, the knocking growing louder. O yes, he was dead. |
| 14367 |
All this while the knocking was growing more uproarious and more unlike the staid career of life in such a palace. Scandal was at the door, with what a fatal following she dreaded to conceive; and at the same time among the voices that now began to summon her by name, she recognised the Chancellor's. |
| 14368 |
She let the looped curtain down upon both sides before she drew the bolt; and, thus secure from any sudden eyeshot from without, admitted the obsequious Chancellor, and again made fast the door. Greisengesang clumsily revolved among the wings of the curtain, so that she was clear of it as soon as he. |
| 14369 |
The servants, when they were admitted, stared at the dishevelled Princess and the wounded man; speech was denied them, but their thoughts were riddled with profanity. Gondremark was bundled in; the curtains of the litter were lowered; the bearers carried it forth, and the Chancellor followed behind with a white face. |
| 14370 |
And now through the midst of that expectant company, the unusual sight of a closed litter was observed approaching, and trotting hard behind it that great dignitary Cancellarius Greisengesang. Silence looked on as it went by; and as soon as it was passed, the whispering seethed over like a boiling pot. |
| 14371 |
He was pressed; he became incoherent; and then from the jolting litter came a groan. In the instant hubbub and the gathering of the crowd as to a natural signal, the clear eyed quavering Chancellor heard the catch of the clock before it strikes the hour of doom; and for ten seconds he forgot himself. |
| 14372 |
The stars alone, cheerful whisperers, confer quietly with each of us like friends; they give ear to our sorrows smilingly, like wise old men, rich in tolerance; and by their double scale, so small to the eye, so vast to the imagination, they keep before the mind the double character of man's nature and fate. |
| 14373 |
Here and there, indeed, through rents in the wood roof, a glimmer attracted her; here and there a tree stood out among its neighbours by some force of outline; here and there a brushing among the leaves, a notable blackness, a dim shine, relieved, only to exaggerate, the solid oppression of the night and silence. |
| 14374 |
And betweenwhiles, the unfeatured darkness would redouble and the whole ear of night appear to be gloating on her steps. Now she would stand still, and the silence, would grow and grow, till it weighed upon her breathing; and then she would address herself again to run, stumbling, falling, and still hurrying the more. |
| 14375 |
And presently the whole wood rocked and began to run along with her. The noise of her own mad passage through the silence spread and echoed, and filled the night with terror. Panic hunted her: Panic from the trees reached forth with clutching branches; the darkness was lit up and peopled with strange forms and faces. |
| 14376 |
She was already near madness, when she broke suddenly into a narrow clearing. At the same time the din grew louder, and she became conscious of vague forms and fields of whiteness. And with that the earth gave way; she fell and found her feet again with an incredible shock to her senses, and her mind was swallowed up. |
| 14377 |
The spray had wet her hair. She saw the white cascade, the stars wavering in the shaken pool, foam flitting, and high overhead the tall pines on either hand serenely drinking starshine; and in the sudden quiet of her spirit she heard with joy the firm plunge of the cataract in the pool. She scrambled forth dripping. |
| 14378 |
As she ran, her ears were aware of many pipings, more beautiful than music; in the small dish shaped houses in the fork of giant arms, where they had lain all night, lover by lover, warmly pressed, the bright eyed, big hearted singers began to awaken for the day. Her heart melted and flowed forth to them in kindness. |
| 14379 |
Out of the East it welled and whitened; the darkness trembled into light; and the stars were extinguished like the street lamps of a human city. The whiteness brightened into silver, the silver warmed into gold, the gold kindled into pure and living fire; and the face of the East was barred with elemental scarlet. |
| 14380 |
The day drew its first long breath, steady and chill; and for leagues around the woods sighed and shivered. And then, at one bound, the sun had floated up; and her startled eyes received day's first arrow, and quailed under the buffet. On every side, the shadows leaped from their ambush and fell prone. |
| 14381 |
In the lower groves there still lingered the blue early twilight and the seizing freshness of the dew. But here and there, above this field of shadow, the head of a great out spread pine was already glorious with day; and here and there, through the breaches of the hills, the sun beams made a great and luminous entry. |
| 14382 |
But, as usual, her courage rekindled brighter for the check. She put him from the door and entered; and he followed her in superstitious wonder. Within, the hut was rough and dark; but on the stone that served as hearth, twigs and a few dry branches burned with the brisk sounds and all the variable beauty of fire. |
| 14383 |
The very sight of it composed her; she crouched hard by on the earth floor and shivered in the glow, and looked upon the eating blaze with admiration. The woodman was still staring at his guest: at the wreck of the rich dress, the bare arms, the bedraggled laces and the gems. He found no word to utter. |
| 14384 |
The bread was hard and sour, the cheese like leather; even the onion, which ranks with the truffle and the nectarine in the chief place of honour of earth's fruits, is not perhaps a dish for princesses when raw. But she ate, if not with appetite, with courage; and when she had eaten, did not disdain the pitcher. |
| 14385 |
So she was taken home for a little, from all her toils and sorrows, to her Father's arms. And there in the meanwhile her body lay exposed by the highwayside, in tattered finery; and on either hand from the woods the birds came flying by and calling upon others, and debated in their own tongue this strange appearance. |
| 14386 |
From time to time he paused, took out his note book and made an entry with a pencil; and any spy who had been near enough would have heard him mumbling words as though he were a poet testing verses. The voice of the wheels was still faint, and it was plain the traveller had far outstripped his carriage. |
| 14387 |
There was a milestone close to where she lay; and he sat down on that and coolly studied her. She lay upon one side, all curled and sunken, her brow on one bare arm, the other stretched out, limp and dimpled. Her young body, like a thing thrown down, had scarce a mark of life. Her breathing stirred her not. |
| 14388 |
The deadliest fatigue was thus confessed in every language of the sleeping flesh. The traveller smiled grimly. As though he had looked upon a statue, he made a grudging inventory of her charms: the figure in that touching freedom of forgetfulness surprised him; the flush of slumber became her like a flower. |
| 14389 |
The place where they had alighted was at a salient angle; a bold rock and some wind tortured pine trees overhung it from above; far below the blue plains lay forth and melted into heaven; and before them the road, by a succession of bold zigzags, was seen mounting to where a tower upon a tall cliff closed the view. |
| 14390 |
Gotthold, fill your glass. Let us drink to what is good in this bad business; let us drink to our old affection; and, when we have done so, forgive your too just grounds of offence, and drink with me to my wife, whom I have so misused, who has so misused me, and whom I have left, I fear, I greatly fear, in danger. |
| 14391 |
Far below, a white waterfall was shining to the stars from the falling skirts of forest, and beyond that, the night stood naked above the plain. On the other hand, the lamp light skimmed the face of the precipices, and the dwarf pine trees twinkled with all their needles, and were gone again into the wake. |
| 14392 |
But Otto had still to bid farewell to Dr. Gotthold; and the Governor following, with his spectacles in one hand and the paper in the other, had still to communicate his treasured verses, piece by piece, as he succeeded in deciphering the manuscript, to all he came across; and still his enthusiasm mounted. |
| 14393 |
Come, Seraphina; show that you forgive me, and let us set about this business of escape in the best spirits possible. You used to say, my dear, that, except as a husband and a prince, I was a pleasant fellow. I am neither now, and you may like my company without remorse. Come, then; it were idle to be captured. |
| 14394 |
On one bank of that loquacious water a foot path descended a green dell. Here it was rocky and stony, and lay on the steep scarps of the ravine; here it was choked with brambles; and there, in fairy haughs, it lay for a few paces evenly on the green turf. Like a sponge, the hillside oozed with well water. |
| 14395 |
Through all these friendly features the path, its human acolyte, conducted our two wanderers downward, Otto before, still pausing at the more difficult passages to lend assistance; the Princess following. From time to time, when he turned to help her, her face would lighten upon his her eyes, half desperately, woo him. |
| 14396 |
All this seemed but a halting prelude to speech. To Otto it seemed as if the whole frame of nature were waiting for his words; and yet his pride kept him silent. The longer he watched that slender and pale hand plucking at the grasses, the harder and rougher grew the fight between pride and its kindly adversary. |
| 14397 |
I have dreamed, in a long dream, that I adored a girl unkind and beautiful; in all things my superior, but still cold, like ice. And again I dreamed, and thought she changed and melted, glowed and turned to me. And I who had no merit but a love, slavish and unerect lay close, and durst not move for fear of waking. |
| 14398 |
At the far end of the town of Papeete, three such men were seated on the beach under a purao tree. It was late. Long ago the band had broken up and marched musically home, a motley troop of men and women, merchant clerks and navy officers, dancing in its wake, arms about waist and crowned with garlands. |
| 14399 |
A sound of snoring ran among the piles of lumber by the Government pier. It was wafted ashore from the graceful clipper bottomed schooners, where they lay moored close in like dinghies, and their crews were stretched upon the deck under the open sky or huddled in a rude tent amidst the disorder of merchandise. |
| 14400 |
But the men under the purao had no thought of sleep. The same temperature in England would have passed without remark in summer; but it was bitter cold for the South Seas. Inanimate nature knew it, and the bottle of cocoanut oil stood frozen in every bird cage house about the island; and the men knew it, and shivered. |
| 14401 |
And if the oracle (as is the way of oracles) replied with no very certain nor encouraging voice, visions of England at least would throng upon the exile's memory: the busy schoolroom, the green playing fields, holidays at home, and the perennial roar of London, and the fireside, and the white head of his father. |
| 14402 |
He had no head for figures, no interest in affairs, detested the constraint of hours, and despised the aims and the success of merchants. To grow rich was none of his ambitions; rather to do well. A worse or a more bold young man would have refused the destiny; perhaps tried his future with his pen; perhaps enlisted. |
| 14403 |
But he did so with a mind divided; fled the neighbourhood of former comrades; and chose, out of several positions placed at his disposal, a clerkship in New York. His career thenceforth was one of unbroken shame. He did not drink, he was exactly honest, he was never rude to his employers, yet was everywhere discharged. |
| 14404 |
Something that was scarcely pride or strength, that was perhaps only refinement, withheld him from capitulation; but he looked on upon his own misfortune with a growing rage, and sometimes wondered at his patience. It was now the fourth month completed, and still there was no change or sign of change. |
| 14405 |
From all round the purao arose and fell a dismal sound of men coughing, and strangling as they coughed. The sick natives, with the islander's impatience of a touch of fever, had crawled from their houses to be cool and, squatting on the shore or on the beached canoes, painfully expected the new day. |
| 14406 |
He was used to another life, to houses, beds, nursing, and the dainties of the sickroom; he lay there now, in the cold open, exposed to the gusting of the wind, and with an empty belly. He was besides infirm; the disease shook him to the vitals; and his companions watched his endurance with surprise. |
| 14407 |
The clouds were all fled, the beauty of the tropic day was spread upon Papeete; and the wall of breaking seas upon the reef, and the palms upon the islet, already trembled in the heat. A French man of war was going out, homeward bound; she lay in the middle distance of the port, an ant heap for activity. |
| 14408 |
It was towards the town they moved; towards the town whence smoke arose, where happier folk were breakfasting; and as they went, their hungry eyes were upon all sides, but they were only scouting for a meal. A small and dingy schooner lay snug against the quay, with which it was connected by a plank. |
| 14409 |
The kettle was drained, the basin cleaned; their entertainers, who had waited on their wants throughout with the pleased hospitality of Polynesians, made haste to bring forward a dessert of island tobacco and rolls of pandanus leaf to serve as paper; and presently all sat about the dishes puffing like Indian Sachems. |
| 14410 |
The beachcombers beat their inglorious retreat along the shore; Herrick first, his face dark with blood, his knees trembling under him with the hysteria of rage. Presently, under the same purao where they had shivered the night before, he cast himself down, and groaned aloud, and ground his face into the sand. |
| 14411 |
Scorn of myself grinds in me as I write. I should tell you I am well and happy, and want for nothing. I do not exactly make money, or I should send a remittance; but I am well cared for, have friends, live in a beautiful place and climate, such as we have dreamed of together, and no pity need be wasted on me. |
| 14412 |
I have no more to say; only linger, going out, like an unwilling guest. God in heaven bless you. Think of me to the last, here, on a bright beach, the sky and sea immoderately blue, and the great breakers roaring outside on a barrier reef, where a little isle sits green with palms. I am well and strong. |
| 14413 |
Within was a grassy court, littered with wreckage and the traces of vagrant occupation. Six or seven cells opened from the court: the doors, that had once been locked on mutinous whalermen, rotting before them in the grass. No mark remained of their old destination, except the rusty bars upon the windows. |
| 14414 |
The floor of one of the cells had been a little cleared; a bucket (the last remaining piece of furniture of the three caitiffs) stood full of water by the door, a half cocoanut shell beside it for a drinking cup; and on some ragged ends of mat Huish sprawled asleep, his mouth open, his face deathly. |
| 14415 |
To and fro he paced like a caged brute; his mind whirling through the universe of thought and memory; his eyes, as he went, skimming the legends on the wall. The crumbling whitewash was all full of them: Tahitian names, and French, and English, and rude sketches of ships under sail and men at fisticuffs. |
| 14416 |
He paused before a clean space, took the pencil out, and pondered. Vanity, so hard to dislodge, awoke in him. We call it vanity at least; perhaps unjustly. Rather it was the bare sense of his existence prompted him; the sense of his life, the one thing wonderful, to which he scarce clung with a finger. |
| 14417 |
The captain appeared upon the threshold of the cell, panting and flushed, and with a foolish face of happiness. In his arms he carried a loaf of bread and bottles of beer; the pockets of his coat were bulging with cigars. He rolled his treasures on the floor, grasped Herrick by both hands, and crowed with laughter. |
| 14418 |
Captain and mate were the only white men; all the hands Kanakas; seems a queer kind of outfit from a Christian port. Three of them left and a cook; didn't know where they were; I can't think where they were either, if you come to that; Wiseman must have been on the booze, I guess, to sail the course he did. |
| 14419 |
I can see it, Herrick, if you can't; you're breaking down. Don't think, if you refuse this chance, that you'll go on doing the evangelical; you're about through with your stock; and before you know where you are, you'll be right out on the other side. No, it's either this for you; or else it's Caledonia. |
| 14420 |
Even that piece of dead weight (shipped A.B. at eighteen dollars, and described by the captain to the consul as an invaluable man) was at last hauled on board without mishap; and the doctor, with civil salutations, took his leave. The three co adventurers looked at each other, and Davis heaved a breath of relief. |
| 14421 |
But Huish was really dull, a thing he could support with difficulty, having no resources of his own. The idea of a private talk with Herrick, at this stage of their relations, held out particular inducements to a person of his character. Drink besides, as it renders some men hyper sensitive, made Huish callous. |
| 14422 |
With Uncle Ned he held long nocturnal conversations, and the old man told him his simple and hard story of exile, suffering, and injustice among cruel whites. The cook, when he found Herrick messed alone, produced for him unexpected and sometimes unpalatable dainties, of which he forced himself to eat. |
| 14423 |
It was thus a cutting reproof to compare the islanders and the whites aboard the Farallone. Shame ran in Herrick's blood to remember what employment he was on, and to see these poor souls and even Sally Day, the child of cannibals, in all likelihood a cannibal himself so faithful to what they knew of good. |
| 14424 |
The reader shall be spared Uncle Ned's unwieldy dialect, and learn in less embarrassing English, the sum of what he now communicated. The ship had scarce cleared the Golden Gates before the captain and mate had entered on a career of drunkenness, which was scarcely interrupted by their malady and only closed by death. |
| 14425 |
At length they made a low island, and went in; and Wiseman and Wishart landed in the boat. There was a great village, a very fine village, and plenty Kanakas in that place; but all mighty serious; and from every here and there in the back parts of the settlement, Taveeta heard the sounds of island lamentation. |
| 14426 |
They stooped below the eaves, flushed and laughing; within a minute they came forth again with changed faces and silent tongues; and as the press severed to make way for them, Taveeta was able to perceive, in the deep shadow of the house, the sick man raising from his mat a head already defeatured by disease. |
| 14427 |
And in his heart he wondered at himself. Living rage no doubt supported him; no doubt also, the sense of the last cast, of the ships burned, of all doors closed but one, which is so strong a tonic to the merely weak, and so deadly a depressant to the merely cowardly. For some time the voyage went otherwise well. |
| 14428 |
The captain had drunk hard the night before; he was far from sober when he was roused; and when he came on deck for the first time at half past eight, it was plain he had already drunk deep again at breakfast. Herrick avoided his eye; and resigned the deck with indignation to a man more than half seas over. |
| 14429 |
By the loud commands of the captain and the singing out of fellows at the ropes, he could judge from the house that sail was being crowded on the ship; relinquished his half eaten breakfast; and came on deck again, to find the main and the jib topsails set, and both watches and the cook turned out to hand the staysail. |
| 14430 |
He saw death hard by; and if not death, sure ruin. For if the Farallone lived through the coming squall, she must surely be dismasted. With that their enterprise was at an end, and they themselves bound prisoners to the very evidence of their crime. The greatness of the peril and his own alarm sufficed to silence him. |
| 14431 |
When that was done, and the great trapezium of canvas had begun to draw and to trail the lee rail of the Farallone level with the foam, he laughed out an empty laugh, drained his glass, sprawled back among the lumber in the boat, and fetched out a crumpled novel. Herrick watched him, and his indignation glowed red hot. |
| 14432 |
He saw the crew were running to their stations without orders. And it seemed as if something broke in his brain; and the passion of anger, so long restrained, so long eaten in secret, burst suddenly loose and shook him like a sail. He stepped across to the captain and smote his hand heavily on the drunkard's shoulder. |
| 14433 |
Case after case came up, bottle after bottle was burst and bled mere water. Deeper yet, and they came upon a layer where there was scarcely so much as the intention to deceive; where the cases were no longer branded, the bottles no longer wired or papered, where the fraud was manifest and stared them in the face. |
| 14434 |
We're done with this boozing business, and we ask your pardon for it right here and now. We have to thank you for all you did for us while we were making hogs of ourselves; you'll find me turn to all right in future; and as for the wine, which I grant we stole from you, I'll take stock and see you paid for it. |
| 14435 |
These glimmered a while on the sea line, and seemed to brighten and darken and spread out, and still the night and the stars reigned undisturbed; it was as though a spark should catch and glow and creep along the foot of some heavy and almost incombustible wall hanging, and the room itself be scarce menaced. |
| 14436 |
Yet a little after, and the whole east glowed with gold and scarlet, and the hollow of heaven was filled with the daylight. The isle the undiscovered, the scarce believed in now lay before them and close aboard; and Herrick thought that never in his dreams had he beheld anything more strange and delicate. |
| 14437 |
Every here and there, as the schooner coasted northward, the wood was intermitted; and he could see clear over the inconsiderable strip of land (as a man looks over a wall) to the lagoon within and clear over that again to where the far side of the atoll prolonged its pencilling of trees against the morning sky. |
| 14438 |
Meanwhile the captain was in the forecross trees, glass in hand, his eyes in every quarter, spying for an entrance, spying for signs of tenancy. But the isle continued to unfold itself in joints, and to run out in indeterminate capes, and still there was neither house nor man, nor the smoke of fire. |
| 14439 |
The airs were very light, their speed was small; the heat intense. The decks were scorching underfoot, the sun flamed overhead, brazen, out of a brazen sky; the pitch bubbled in the seams, and the brains in the brain pan. And all the while the excitement of the three adventurers glowed about their bones like a fever. |
| 14440 |
From a flagstaff at the pierhead, the red ensign of England was displayed. Behind, about, and over, the same tall grove of palms, which had masked the settlement in the beginning, prolonged its root of tumultuous green fans, and turned and ruffled overhead, and sang its silver song all day in the wind. |
| 14441 |
Yes, sir; the pearls! First, because they're too valuable to trust out of his hands. Second, because pearls want a lot of handling and matching; and the man who sells his pearls as they come in, one here, one there, instead of hanging back and holding up well, that man's a fool, and it's not Attwater. |
| 14442 |
This was not merely the work of an aroused imagination, but had something sensible to go upon; sounds of a stealthy approach were no doubt audible; and while he still stood staring at the lumber, the voice of his host sounded suddenly, and with even more than the customary softness of enunciation, from behind. |
| 14443 |
But to find the whole machine thus glow with the reverberation of religious zeal, surprised him beyond words; and he laboured in vain, as he walked, to piece together into any kind of whole his odds and qnds of knowledge to adjust again into any kind of focus with itself, his picture of the man beside him. |
| 14444 |
Some were good, and some bad, and the majority (of course and always) null. Here was a fellow, now, that used to frisk like a dog; if you had called him he came like an arrow from a bow; if you had not, and he came unbidden, you should have seen the deprecating eye and the little intricate dancing step. |
| 14445 |
He had complied with the ebb tide in man's affairs, and the tide had carried him away; he heard already the roaring of the maelstrom that must hurry him under. And in his bedevilled and dishonoured soul there was no thought of self. For how long he walked silent by his companion Herrick had no guess. |
| 14446 |
One of the men was engaged about the cooking fire, which burned with the clear, fierce, essential radiance of cocoanut shells. A fragrance of strange meats was in the air. All round in the verandahs lamps were lighted, so that the place shone abroad in the dusk of the trees with many complicated patterns of shadow. |
| 14447 |
Not a tin had been opened; and save for the oil and vinegar in the salad, and some green spears of onion which Attwater cultivated and plucked with his own hand, not even the condiments were European. Sherry, hock, and claret succeeded each other, and the Farallone champagne brought up the rear with the dessert. |
| 14448 |
It was plain that, like so many of the extremely religious in the days before teetotalism, Attwater had a dash of the epicure. For such characters it is softening to eat well; doubly so to have designed and had prepared an excellent meal for others; and the manners of their host were agreeably mollified in consequence. |
| 14449 |
His mind was singly occupied in contemplating the horror of the circumstances in which he sat. What Attwater knew, what the captain designed, from which side treachery was to be first expected, these were the ground of his thoughts. There were times when he longed to throw down the table and flee into the night. |
| 14450 |
The cocoa palms grow all round the island, which is scarce like nature's planting. We found besides, when we landed, an unmistakable cairn upon the beach; use unknown; but probably erected in the hope of gratifying some mumbo jumbo whose very name is forgotten, by some thick witted gentry whose very bones are lost. |
| 14451 |
As the boy was filling Huish's glass, the bottle escaped from his hand and was shattered, and the wine spilt on the verandah floor. Instant grimness as of death appeared on the face of Attwater; he smote the bell imperiously, and the two brown natives fell into the attitude of attention and stood mute and trembling. |
| 14452 |
Sullens was industrious; a big down looking bee. When he was spoken to, he answered with a black look and a shrug of one shoulder, but the thing would be done. I don't give him to you for a model of manners; there was nothing showy about Sullens; but he was strong and steady, and ungraciously obedient. |
| 14453 |
You set him talking and lying; and he talks, and lies, and watches your face to see if he has pleased you; till at last, out comes the truth! It came out of Obsequiousness in the regular course. I said nothing to him; I dismissed him; and late as it was, for it was already night, set off to look for Sullens. |
| 14454 |
He was hanging in a cocoa palm I'm not botanist enough to tell you how but it's the way, in nine cases out of ten, these natives commit suicide. His tongue was out, poor devil, and the birds had got at him; I spare you details, he was an ugly sight! I gave the business six good hours of thinking in this verandah. |
| 14455 |
He stared a bit, looked at one with a trouble in his eye, and had rather a sickly smile; but went. He was obedient to the last; he had all the pretty virtues, but the truth was not in him. So soon as he was up, he looked down, and there was the rifle covering him; and at that he gave a whimper like a dog. |
| 14456 |
You could bear a pin drop; no more keening now. There they all crouched upon the ground, with bulging eyes; there was he in the tree top, the colour of the lead; and between was the dead man, dancing a bit in the air. He was obedient to the last, recited his crime, recommended his soul to God. And then. |
| 14457 |
As he went, he considered with himself eagerly, his thoughts racing. The man had understood, he had mocked them from the beginning; he would teach him to make a mockery of John Davis! Herrick thought him a god; give him a second to aim in, and the god was overthrown. He chuckled as he felt the butt of his revolver. |
| 14458 |
No, the captain preferred to shoot standing, so as you could be sure to get your hand upon your gun. The best would be to summon Huish, and when Attwater stood up and turned ah, then would be the moment. Wrapped in his ardent prefiguration of events, the captain posted towards the house with his head down. |
| 14459 |
And the captain, before he knew what he was doing, had obeyed. The surprise was complete and irremediable. Coming on the top crest of his murderous intentions, he had walked straight into an ambuscade, and now stood, with his hands impotently lifted, staring at the verandah. The party was now broken up. |
| 14460 |
Some of them might have already ducked below it from the rear, and be drawing a bead upon him at that moment from the low browed crypt, the receptacle of empty bottles and broken crockery. No, there was nothing to be done but to bring away (if it were still possible) his shattered and demorallsed forces. |
| 14461 |
The ship had a gentle, cradling motion; at times a block piped like a bird. On shore, through the colonnade of palm stems, Attwater's house was to be seen shining steadily with many lamps. And there was nothing else visible, whether in the heaven above or in the lagoon below, but the stars and their reflections. |
| 14462 |
The open door was closed in his recreant face. He must go back into the world and amongst men without illusion. He must stagger on to the end with the pack of his responsibility and his disgrace, until a cold, a blow, a merciful chance ball, or the more merciful hangman, should dismiss him from his infamy. |
| 14463 |
Davis, without doubt, remarked and recognised the figure on the beach; or perhaps hesitated to recognise it; for after he had gazed a long while from under his hand, he went into the house and fetched a glass. It was very powerful; Herrick had often used it. With an instinct of shame, he hid his face in his hands. |
| 14464 |
The ship was a stolen ship; the stores, either from initial carelessness or ill administration during the voyage, were insufficient to carry them to any port except back to Papeete; and there retribution waited in the shape of a gendarme, a judge with a queer shaped hat, and the horror of distant Noumea. |
| 14465 |
The ship rotting at anchor, the crew stumbling and dying in the scuppers? It seemed as if any extreme of hazard were to be preferred to so grisly a certainty; as if it would be better to up anchor after all, put to sea at a venture, and, perhaps, perish at the hands of cannibals on one of the more obscure Paumotus. |
| 14466 |
On the endless ribbon of island that stretched out to either hand of him its array of golden and green and silvery palms, not the most volatile frond was to be seen stirring; they drooped to their stable images in the lagoon like things carved of metal, and already their long line began to reverberate heat. |
| 14467 |
Then came over Davis, from deep down in the roots of his being, or at least from far back among his memories of childhood and innocence, a wave of superstition. This run of ill luck was something beyond natural; the chances of the game were in themselves more various; it seemed as if the devil must serve the pieces. |
| 14468 |
Attwater had food and a treasure of pearls; escape made possible in the present, riches in the future. They must come to grips, with Attwater; the man must die. A smoky heat went over his face, as he recalled the impotent figure he had made last night and the contemptuous speeches he must bear in silence. |
| 14469 |
Then a noise in his rear startled him, and he turned about to find Davis already advanced as far as the figure head. He came, crouching and open mouthed, as the mesmerised may follow the mesmeriser; all human considerations, and even the care of his own life, swallowed up in one abominable and burning curiosity. |
| 14470 |
And then, at almost the same moment, the indomitable Huish decided to throw, and Attwater pulled the trigger. There was scarce the difference of a second between the two resolves, but it was in favour of the man with the rifle; and the jar had not yet left the clerk's hand, before the ball shattered both. |
| 14471 |
The whole thing was come and gone in a breath. Before Herrick could turn about, before Davis could complete his cry of horror, the clerk lay in the sand, sprawling and convulsed. Attwater ran to the body; he stooped and viewed it; he put his finger in the vitriol, and his face whitened and hardened with anger. |
| 14472 |
A third shot, and he was bleeding from one ear; and along the levelled rifle Attwater smiled like a Red Indian. The cruel game of which he was the puppet was now clear to Davis; three times he had drunk of death, and he must look to drink of it seven times more before he was despatched. He held up his hand. |
| 14473 |
Attwater, stripped to his trousers and lending a strong hand of help, was directing and encouraging five Kanakas; from his lively voice, and their more lively efforts, it was to be gathered that some sudden and joyful emergency had set them in this bustle; and the Union Jack floated once more on its staff. |
| 14474 |
They burned gaily; kerosene had not been spared, and the bellows of the Trade incited the conflagration. About half way on the return voyage, when Herrick looked back, he beheld the Farallone wrapped to the topmasts in leaping arms of fire, and the voluminous smoke pursuing him along the face of the lagoon. |
| 14475 |
It so chanced that, as his boat flew before the wind with much vivacity, and his eyes were continually busy in the wake, measuring the progress of the flames, he found himself embayed to the northward of the point of palms, and here became aware at the same time of the figure of Davis immersed in his devotion. |
| 14476 |
It may prove to be nothing, and it may prove to be a great deal. But in the meanwhile it is truly mysterious, no eye having looked on it for near a hundred years; it is highly genteel, for it treats of a titled family; and it ought to be melodramatic, for (according to the superscription) it is concerned with death. |
| 14477 |
It was a desperate venture for so small a company to cross the most of Scotland unsupported; and (what made folk think so the more) even as that poor dozen was clattering up the hill, a great ship of the king's navy, that could have brought them under with a single boat, lay with her broad ensign streaming in the bay. |
| 14478 |
That ever they accomplished anything is more than I could learn; and that they were anyway strong on the king's side, more than believe. But they kept the letter of loyalty, corresponded with my Lord President, sat still at home, and had little or no commerce with the Master while that business lasted. |
| 14479 |
By an unfortunate chance John Paul and Macconochie had that very morning found the guinea piece which was the root of all the evil sticking in a holly bush; they had been "up the gait," as the servants say at Durrisdeer, to the change house; and if they had little left of the guinea, they had less of their wits. |
| 14480 |
There was not much harm in Tam; but he had that grievous weakness, a long tongue; and as the only man in that country who had been out or, rather, who had come in again he was sure of listeners. Those that have the underhand in any fighting, I have observed, are ever anxious to persuade themselves they were betrayed. |
| 14481 |
Let anyone speak long enough, he will get believers. This view of Mr. Henry's behaviour crept about the country by little and little; it was talked upon by folk that knew the contrary, but were short of topics; and it was heard and believed and given out for gospel by the ignorant and the ill willing. |
| 14482 |
Next day word went about the country like wildfire that Mr. Henry had beaten Jessie Broun within an inch of her life. I give it as one instance of how this snowball grew, and one calumny brought another; until my poor patron was so perished in reputation that he began to keep the house like my lord. |
| 14483 |
My old lord must have heard of it, by John Paul, if by no one else; and he must at least have remarked the altered habits of his son. Yet even he, it is probable, knew not how high the feeling ran; and as for Miss Alison, she was ever the last person to hear news, and the least interested when she heard them. |
| 14484 |
In the midst of this came Mrs. Henry into the room; she was very far gone, Miss Katharine being due in about six weeks, which made me think less of her beauty at the first sight; and she used me with more of condescension than the rest; so that, upon all accounts, I kept her in the third place of my esteem. |
| 14485 |
He would fall into a deep muse over our accounts, staring at the page or out of the window; and at those times the look of his face, and the sigh that would break from him, awoke in me strong feelings of curiosity and commiseration. One day, I remember, we were late upon some business in the steward's room. |
| 14486 |
It was in one of these confidences that he showed me the Carlisle letter, the print of the horse shoe still stamped in the paper. Indeed, that was our last confidence; for he then expressed himself so ill naturedly of Mrs. Henry that I had to reprimand him sharply, and must thenceforth hold him at a distance. |
| 14487 |
It seems it was an old custom when the family were alone in Durrisdeer, that my lord should take his wine to the chimney side, and Miss Alison, instead of withdrawing, should bring a stool to his knee, and chatter to him privately; and after she had become my patron's wife the same manner of doing was continued. |
| 14488 |
Once, I remember, he announced he had found a man to replace the pane of the stained window, which, as it was he that managed all the business, was a thing clearly within his attributions. But to the Master's fancies, that pane was like a relic; and on the first word of any change, the blood flew to Mrs. Henry's face. |
| 14489 |
Mr. Henry kept up the talk with me upon some topic of the estates he could speak of little else but business, and was never the best of company; but he kept it up that day with more continuity, his eye straying ever and again to the chimney, and his voice changing to another key, but without check of delivery. |
| 14490 |
When Miss Katharine was to be born, nothing would serve but he must stay in the room behind the head of the bed. There he sat, as white (they tell me) as a sheet, and the sweat dropping from his brow; and the handkerchief he had in his hand was crushed into a little ball no bigger than a musket bullet. |
| 14491 |
I told them briefly what I had to say. My old lord lay back in his seat. Mrs. Henry sprang up standing with a mechanical motion, and she and her husband stared at each other's eyes across the room; it was the strangest, challenging look these two exchanged, and as they looked, the colour faded in their faces. |
| 14492 |
The fifth and sixth days we tossed there helpless. The seventh some sail was got on her, but she was an unwieldy vessel at the best, and we made little but leeway. All the time, indeed, we had been drifting to the south and west, and during the tempest must have driven in that direction with unheard of violence. |
| 14493 |
Teach ruled, if you can call that rule which brought no order, by the terror he created; and I observed the man was very vain of his position. I have known marshals of France ay, and even Highland chieftains that were less openly puffed up; which throws a singular light on the pursuit of honour and glory. |
| 14494 |
But in the meanwhile the chase had cleared a stern gun, the thickness of the air concealing them; and being better marksmen, their first shot struck us in the bows, knocked our two gunners into mince meat, so that we were all sprinkled with the blood, and plunged through the deck into the forecastle, where we slept. |
| 14495 |
We were here landed at random in a vast and dangerous swamp; and how to come at the path was a concern of doubt, fatigue, and peril. Dutton, indeed, was of opinion we should wait until the ship was gone, and fish up the skiff; for any delay would be more wise than to go blindly ahead in that morass. |
| 14496 |
It was already blistering hot when we set forth to pass the marsh, or rather to strike the path, by compass. Dutton took the compass, and one or other of us three carried his proportion of the treasure. I promise you he kept a sharp eye to his rear, for it was like the man's soul that he must trust us with. |
| 14497 |
This was well to be observed in the present instance; for here were Ballantrae and I, two gentlemen of the highest breeding, on the one hand; and on the other, Grady, a common mariner, and a man nearly a giant in physical strength. The case of Dutton is not in point, for I confess he did as well as any of us. |
| 14498 |
We had no sooner observed him than he found his legs and made off again among the pines. This was no scene to put our minds at rest: a couple of armed men in sea clothes found quarrelling over a treasure, not many miles from where a pirate had been captured here was enough to bring the whole country about our ears. |
| 14499 |
But the trouble was, we did not know in what direction, and must continually return upon our steps. Ballantrae had indeed collected what he could from Dutton; but it's hard to travel upon hearsay; and the estuary, which spreads into a vast irregular harbour, turned us off upon every side with a new stretch of water. |
| 14500 |
This was a creek, however, very different from those that had arrested us before; being set in rocks, and so precipitously deep that a small vessel was able to lie alongside, made fast with a hawser; and her crew had laid a plank to the shore. Here they had lighted a fire, and were sitting at their meal. |
| 14501 |
Before we had reached the town of New York we had come to a full agreement, that he should carry us as far as Albany upon his ship, and thence put us on a way to pass the boundaries and join the French. For all this we were to pay at a high rate; but beggars cannot be choosers, nor outlaws bargainers. |
| 14502 |
At least, it was in the course of our revelry that we made the acquaintance of a spirited youth by the name of Chew. He was one of the most daring of the Indian traders, very well acquainted with the secret paths of the wilderness, needy, dissolute, and, by a last good fortune, in some disgrace with his family. |
| 14503 |
Him we persuaded to come to our relief; he privately provided what was needful for our flight, and one day we slipped out of Albany, without a word to our former friend, and embarked, a little above, in a canoe. To the toils and perils of this journey, it would require a pen more elegant than mine to do full justice. |
| 14504 |
But to have done this directly were too perilous; and it was accordingly gone upon by such a labyrinth of rivers, lakes, and portages as makes my head giddy to remember. These paths were in ordinary times entirely desert; but the country was now up, the tribes on the war path, the woods full of Indian scouts. |
| 14505 |
It passed off harmlessly, indeed, as did the rest of our encounters; for Chew was well known and highly valued among the different tribes. Indeed, he was a very gallant, respectable young man; but even with the advantage of his companionship, you must not think these meetings were without sensible peril. |
| 14506 |
We were come to the most critical portion of our course, where we might equally expect to fall into the hands of French or English, when a terrible calamity befell us. Chew was taken suddenly sick with symptoms like those of poison, and in the course of a few hours expired in the bottom of the canoe. |
| 14507 |
In some the bottom was full of deep swamp, and the whole wood entirely rotten. I have leaped on a great fallen log and sunk to the knees in touchwood; I have sought to stay myself, in falling, against what looked to be a solid trunk, and the whole thing has whiffed away at my touch like a sheet of paper. |
| 14508 |
What was worse, as we could rarely get a view of the country, and were perpetually justled from our path by obstacles, it was impossible even to have a guess in what direction we were moving. A little before sundown, in an open place with a stream, and set about with barbarous mountains, Ballantrae threw down his pack. |
| 14509 |
But here there is a strange thing to be noted. He had only once before referred to the lady with whom he was contracted. That was when we came in view of the town of New York, when he had told me, if all had their rights, he was now in sight of his own property, for Miss Graeme enjoyed a large estate in the province. |
| 14510 |
I cannot describe how dreadfully this sight affected us; but it robbed me of all strength and all hope for this world. The same day, and only a little after, we were scrambling over a part of the forest that had been burned, when Ballantrae, who was a little ahead, ducked suddenly behind a fallen trunk. |
| 14511 |
He would scarce have liked a less responsible convoy, for he was a man who valued himself; nor could we afford him one more dignified, for Mr. Henry must not appear with the freetraders. It was a very bitter morning of wind, and as we went down through the long shrubbery the Colonel held himself muffled in his cloak. |
| 14512 |
To the contrary, every circumstance of alteration was a stab to him; he read in each the avowal of her truant fancies. That constancy to the Master of which she was proud while she supposed him dead, she had to blush for now she knew he was alive, and these blushes were the hated spring of her new conduct. |
| 14513 |
With me, from whom he had less concealment, he was often grossly unjust, and even for his wife he would sometimes have a sharp retort: perhaps when she had ruffled him with some unwonted kindness; perhaps upon no tangible occasion, the mere habitual tenor of the man's annoyance bursting spontaneously forth. |
| 14514 |
All the time, too, while he was injuring himself by this defect of temper, he was hurting his position by a silence, of which I scarce know whether to say it was the child of generosity or pride. The freetraders came again and again, bringing messengers from the Master, and none departed empty handed. |
| 14515 |
You are to suppose that for seven years this bloodsucker had been drawing the life's blood from Durrisdeer, and that all this time my patron had held his peace. It was an effect of devilish malice in the Master that he addressed Mr. Henry alone upon the matter of his demands, and there was never a word to my lord. |
| 14516 |
At this time I believe my patron and his wife were rarely together, save at meals. Immediately on the back of Colonel Burke's announcement Mrs. Henry made palpable advances; you might say she had laid a sort of timid court to her husband, different, indeed, from her former manner of unconcern and distance. |
| 14517 |
But this letter I did not even see; it would scarce be pleasant reading, for Mr. Henry felt he had his wife behind him for once, and I observed, on the day it was despatched, he had a very gratified expression. Things went better now in the family, though it could scarce be pretended they went well. |
| 14518 |
So much I thought proper to set down, lest I show myself unjust to Mrs. Henry. And, besides, the remark arose naturally, on a re perusal of the letter which was the next step in these affairs, and reached me, to my sincere astonishment, by a private hand, some week or so after the departure of the last messenger. |
| 14519 |
He next received a company, and was soon after advanced to a regiment of his own. My dear sir, I do not offer to explain this circumstance; any more than why I myself, who have rid at the right hand of Princes, should be fubbed off with a pair of colours and sent to rot in a hole at the bottom of the province. |
| 14520 |
Indeed, by what proved in the sequel an unhappy chance, I was an object of scorn to some of these braggadocios; who had not only gratified me with a nickname, but catching me one night upon a by path, and being all (as they would have said) somewhat merry, had caused me to dance for their diversion. |
| 14521 |
And while John laid the fresh place for him (a thing on which he still insisted), he went and leaned on his father's chair and looked down upon him, and the old man turned about and looked upwards on his son, with such a pleasant mutual tenderness that I could have carried my hand to my head in mere amazement. |
| 14522 |
Partly because I was a very open friend to my patron, partly because in my letters to Paris I had often given myself some freedom of remonstrance, I was included in his diabolical amusement. When I was alone with him, he pursued me with sneers; before the family he used me with the extreme of friendly condescension. |
| 14523 |
Money was got together; an interview took place, in which my proud gentleman must consent to be kissed and wept upon; and the woman was set up in a public of her own, somewhere on Solway side (but I forget where), and, by the only news I ever had of it, extremely ill frequented. This is to look forward. |
| 14524 |
Up to that hour the Master had played a very close game with Mrs. Henry; avoiding pointedly to be alone with her, which I took at the time for an effect of decency, but now think to be a most insidious art; meeting her, you may say, at meal time only; and behaving, when he did so, like an affectionate brother. |
| 14525 |
The poetry is harsh; and yet, perhaps because of my situation, it has always found the way to my heart. It is supposed to be sung, I should tell you, by an exile's sweetheart; and represents perhaps, not so much the truth of what she is thinking, as the truth of what he hopes of her, poor soul! in these far lands. |
| 14526 |
We were to suppose that he there struggled down the last of his emotion; for he presently returned and launched into a disquisition on the nature of the Irish (always so much miscalled, and whom he defended) in his natural voice; so that, before the lights were brought, we were in the usual course of talk. |
| 14527 |
But even then, methought Mrs. Henry's face was a shade pale; and, for another thing, she withdrew almost at once. The next sign was a friendship this insidious devil struck up with innocent Miss Katharine; so that they were always together, hand in hand, or she climbing on his knee, like a pair of children. |
| 14528 |
Like all his diabolical acts, this cut in several ways. It was the last stroke to Mr. Henry, to see his own babe debauched against him; it made him harsh with the poor innocent, which brought him still a peg lower in his wife's esteem; and (to conclude) it was a bond of union between the lady and the Master. |
| 14529 |
Or so he said; though I have suspected since it did not go so far. And now here was all the man's business brought to a successful head, and his pockets once more bulging with our gold; and yet the point for which we had consented to this sacrifice was still denied us, and the visitor still lingered on at Durrisdeer. |
| 14530 |
Never a word was said; there was never a sound but the creaking of our steps along the frozen path. The cold of the night fell about me like a bucket of water; I shook as I went with more than terror; but my companions, bare headed like myself, and fresh from the warm ball, appeared not even conscious of the change. |
| 14531 |
To it they went again, on the fresh ground; but now methought closer, Mr. Henry pressing more outrageously, the Master beyond doubt with shaken confidence. For it is beyond doubt he now recognised himself for lost, and had some taste of the cold agony of fear; or he had never attempted the foul stroke. |
| 14532 |
He, too, sat up in bed; very aged and bloodless he looked; and whereas he had a certain largeness of appearance when dressed for daylight, he now seemed frail and little, and his face (the wig being laid aside) not bigger than a child's. This daunted me; nor less, the haggard surmise of misfortune in his eye. |
| 14533 |
From quite a far way off a sheen was visible, making points of brightness in the shrubbery; in so black a night it might have been remarked for miles; and I blamed myself bitterly for my incaution. How much more sharply when I reached the place! One of the candlesticks was overthrown, and that taper quenched. |
| 14534 |
Mr. Henry sat by the table with his head upon his hand, like a man of stone. His wife stood a little back from him, her hand at her mouth; it was plain she could not move him. My old lord walked very steadily to where his son was sitting; he had a steady countenance, too, but methought a little cold. |
| 14535 |
I heard him, as I said, with wonder, and hastened to obey. Mr. and Mrs. Henry were gone from the hall; my lord, for warmth's sake, hurried to his bed; there was still no sign of stir among the servants, and as I went up the tower stair, and entered the dead man's room, a horror of solitude weighed upon my mind. |
| 14536 |
Had I been there alone, I would not have troubled my thumb; but all the while, as I listened, I was estimating the effect on the man's wife, and telling myself that he fell lower every day. I was the one person on the surface of the globe that comprehended him, and I was bound there should be yet another. |
| 14537 |
All night long I walked in my chamber, revolving what should be the issue, and sometimes repenting the temerity of my immixture in affairs so private; and with the first peep of the morning I was at the sick room door. Mrs. Henry had thrown open the shutters and even the window, for the temperature was mild. |
| 14538 |
But he knows how high we prize it; he knows we would rather die than make these letters public; and do you suppose he would not trade upon the knowledge? What you call your sword, Mr. Mackellar, and which had been one indeed against a man of any remnant of propriety, would have been but a sword of paper against him. |
| 14539 |
True, again, there was nothing excessive in these relaxations, or I would have been no party to them. But the whole thing marked a change, very slight yet very perceptible; and though no man could say my master had gone at all out of his mind, no man could deny that he had drifted from his character. |
| 14540 |
At the sudden clear sound of it we started from our several occupations; but it was in vain we turned to him; he sat there silent, and, to all appearance, fatuous. A little later he was had to bed with more difficulty than ever before; and some time in the night, without any more violence, his spirit fled. |
| 14541 |
By his view of it father and son both suffered from the affection: the father from the strain of his unnatural sorrows the son perhaps in the excitation of the fever; each had ruptured a vessel on the brain, and there was probably (my doctor added) some predisposition in the family to accidents of that description. |
| 14542 |
The death of my old lord was the occasion of a fresh surprise to us who watched the behaviour of his successor. To any considering mind, the two sons had between them slain their father, and he who took the sword might be even said to have slain him with his hand, but no such thought appeared to trouble my new lord. |
| 14543 |
He was becomingly grave; I could scarce say sorrowful, or only with a pleasant sorrow; talking of the dead with a regretful cheerfulness, relating old examples of his character, smiling at them with a good conscience; and when the day of the funeral came round, doing the honours with exact propriety. |
| 14544 |
In contrast to this merriment, the shrubbery was only the more sad, and I the more oppressed by its associations. In this situation of spirit it struck me disagreeably to hear voices a little way in front, and to recognise the tones of my lord and Mr. Alexander. I pushed ahead, and came presently into their view. |
| 14545 |
For my lord's slavery to the child, I can find no expression adequate. He lost himself in that continual thought: business, friends, and wife being all alike forgotten, or only remembered with a painful effort, like that of one struggling with a posset. It was most notable in the matter of his wife. |
| 14546 |
Since I had known Durrisdeer, she had been the burthen of his thought and the loadstone of his eyes; and now she was quite cast out. I have seen him come to the door of a room, look round, and pass my lady over as though she were a dog before the fire. It would be Alexander he was seeking, and my lady knew it well. |
| 14547 |
It would be easy to make too much of this division, for it was a pleasant family, as families go; still the thing existed; whether my lord knew it or not, I am in doubt. I do not think he did; he was bound up so entirely in his son; but the rest of us knew it, and in a manner suffered from the knowledge. |
| 14548 |
I gave the cipaye a back, and we had soon dropped into a large enclosure full of trees. The place was soaking with the dew, which, in that country, is exceedingly unwholesome, above all to whites; yet my fatigue was so extreme that I was already half asleep, when the cipaye recalled me to my senses. |
| 14549 |
But, sure, I had no sooner recognised him, and found myself in the arms of so old a comrade, than I supposed my tribulations were quite done. I stepped plainly forth into the light of the moon, which shone exceeding strong, and hailing Ballantrae by name, made him in a few words master of my grievous situation. |
| 14550 |
So strong was this upon my spirit that I hurried downstairs in my shirt and breeches, and my hand (I remember) shook upon the rail. It was a cold, sunny morning, with a thick white frost; the blackbirds sang exceeding sweet and loud about the house of Durrisdeer, and there was a noise of the sea in all the chambers. |
| 14551 |
Now for you, that suffered so much, to deal out the same suffering to another, is that the part of any Christian? But you are so swallowed up in your new friend that the old are all forgotten. They are all clean vanished from your memory. And yet they stood by you at the darkest; my lady not the least. |
| 14552 |
My lord was grown slack in his limbs; he stooped; he walked with a running motion, as though he had learned again from Mr. Alexander; his face was drawn; it seemed a trifle longer than of old; and it wore at times a smile very singularly mingled, and which (in my eyes) appeared both bitter and pathetic. |
| 14553 |
This was the second time that, in the midst of the most regular and wise behaviour, his animosity had spirted out. It startled Mr. Carlyle, who observed my lord thenceforth with covert curiosity; and to me it restored the certainty that we were acting for the best in view of my lord's health and reason. |
| 14554 |
There was some talk of a woman at St. Bride's, to whom you had behaved extremely handsome, and Mr. Bally with no small degree of cruelty. There was the entail, again, which was much controverted. In short, there was no want of talk, back and forward; and some of our wise acres took up a strong opinion. |
| 14555 |
It was so with the Master's tongue, that was so cunning to question; and his eyes, that were so quick to observe. I seemed to have said nothing, and yet to have let all out. Before I knew where I was the man was condoling with me on my lord's neglect of my lady and myself, and his hurtful indulgence to his son. |
| 14556 |
From that moment forth I seem not to have sat down or breathed. Now I would be at my post with the Master and his Indian; now in the garret, buckling a valise; now sending forth Macconochie by the side postern and the wood path to bear it to the trysting place; and, again, snatching some words of counsel with my lady. |
| 14557 |
I could not but perceive that he thought more of me, which tickled that poor part of mankind, the vanity. He dropped, besides (I must suppose unconsciously), into a manner that was not only familiar, but even friendly; and this, on the part of one who had so long detested me, I found the more insidious. |
| 14558 |
Sometimes, if the way was steep and the wheels turning slowly, I would overhear the voices from within, talking in that tropical tongue which was to me as inarticulate as the piping of the fowls. Sometimes, at a longer ascent, the Master would set foot to ground and walk by my side, mostly without speech. |
| 14559 |
This outer sensibility and inner toughness set me against him; it seemed of a piece with that impudent grossness which I knew to underlie the veneer of his fine manners; and sometimes my gorge rose against him as though he were deformed and sometimes I would draw away as though from something partly spectral. |
| 14560 |
I have seen him driven, when I proved recalcitrant, to long discourses with the skipper; and this, although the man plainly testified his weariness, fiddling miserably with both hand and foot, and replying only with a grunt. After the first week out we fell in with foul winds and heavy weather. The sea was high. |
| 14561 |
For myself, I was already old; I had never been young, I was not formed for the world's pleasures, I had few affections; it mattered not the toss of a silver tester whether I was drowned there and then in the Atlantic, or dribbled out a few more years, to die, perhaps no less terribly, in a deserted sick bed. |
| 14562 |
This road brought him presently into a field of ruins, in the midst of which, in the side of a hill, he saw an open door, and, not far off, a single stunted pine no greater than a currant bush. The place was desert and very secret; a voice spoke in the count's bosom that there was something here to his advantage. |
| 14563 |
You know enough of human nature, my excellent Mackellar, to be certain of one thing: I mean that the baron did not rest till he had heard the dream. The count, sure that he would never desist, kept him in play till his curiosity was highly inflamed, and then suffered himself, with seeming reluctance, to be overborne. |
| 14564 |
To all my outcry you rendered not the least attention, leaning the while upon the rail and looking down intently in the water. And then there was made to you a communication; I do not think I even gathered what it was, but the fear of it plucked me clean out of my slumber, and I awoke shaking and sobbing. |
| 14565 |
Some days after, the count proposed a ride in the fields, which the baron (since they were daily growing faster friends) very readily accepted. On the way back to Rome, the count led them insensibly by a particular route. Presently he reined in his horse, clapped his hand before his eyes, and cried out aloud. |
| 14566 |
A very little while ago, upon this lonely ship, where no one but myself has any smattering of science, you would have made sure I had designs upon your life. And, observe, it is since I found you had designs upon my own, that I have shown you most respect. You will tell me if this speaks of a small mind. |
| 14567 |
So that, perhaps, there was truth in the man's last vaunting word to me, uttered on the second day of July, when our long voyage was at last brought almost to an end, and we lay becalmed at the sea end of the vast harbour of New York, in a gasping heat, which was presently exchanged for a surprising waterfall of rain. |
| 14568 |
At home, where you were so little known, it was still possible to keep appearances; that would be quite vain in this province; and I have to tell you that I am quite resolved to wash my hands of you. You have already ruined me almost to the door, as you ruined my father before me; whose heart you also broke. |
| 14569 |
It was in all likelihood the Master's design to gather a sufficiency, and then proceed in quest of that treasure which he had buried long before among the mountains; to which, if he had confined himself, he would have been more happily inspired. But unfortunately for himself and all of us, he took counsel of his anger. |
| 14570 |
He laid on flesh; had a bright, busy face; even the heat seemed to prosper with him; and my lady in despite of her own annoyances daily blessed Heaven her father should have left her such a paradise. She had looked on from a window upon the Master's humiliation; and from that hour appeared to feel at ease. |
| 14571 |
If any of my lord's friends went by, he would hail them cheerfully, and cry out he was there to give some good advice to his brother, who was now (to his delight) grown quite industrious. And even this the Master accepted with a steady countenance; what was in his mind, God knows, or perhaps Satan only. |
| 14572 |
Understand it once and for all, I treat this beast in my own way; fear nor favour shall not move me; and before I am hoodwinked, it will require a trickster less transparent than yourself. I ask service, loyal service; not that you should make and mar behind my back, and steal my own money to defeat me. |
| 14573 |
The next day my lord was under engagement to go with the Governor upon some party of pleasure; the time was nearly due, and I left him for a moment alone in his room and skimming through the pamphlets. When I returned, his head had fallen upon the table, his arms lying abroad amongst the crumpled papers. |
| 14574 |
His hand at the same time flew above his head, as though to strike me down. "Leave me alone!" he screeched, and I fled, as fast as my shaking legs would bear me, for my lady. She, too, lost no time; but when we returned, he had the door locked within, and only cried to us from the other side to leave him be. |
| 14575 |
There is the whole truth at last before the public; and if the differences be great, the coincidence was yet enough to fill me with uneasiness. All afternoon, as I say, I sat and pondered upon this quite to myself; for my lady had trouble of her own, and it was my last thought to vex her with fancies. |
| 14576 |
About the midst of our time of waiting, she conceived an ingenious scheme, had Mr. Alexander fetched, and bid him knock at his father's door. My lord sent the boy about his business, but without the least violence, whether of manner or expression; so that I began to entertain a hope the fit was over. |
| 14577 |
The cock was crowing a second time when I saw (from my chamber window) my lord lighting him to the gate, both men very much affected with their potations, and sometimes leaning one upon the other to confabulate. Yet the next morning my lord was abroad again early with a hundred pounds of money in his pocket. |
| 14578 |
That he should credit such a rodomontade, and carry the pamphlet on his bosom and the words in his heart, is the clear proof of the man's lunacy. Doubtless the mere mention of Mr. Alexander, and the threat directly held out against the child's succession, precipitated that which had so long impended. |
| 14579 |
I cannot say how singularly I was shaken to recognise the adventurer Harris. I could not but conclude it was the hand of my lord that had brought him there; and prolonged my walk in very serious and apprehensive thought. It was late when I came home, and there was my lord making up his portmanteau for a voyage. |
| 14580 |
We made a prosperous voyage up that fine river of the Hudson, the weather grateful, the hills singularly beautified with the colours of the autumn. At Albany we had our residence at an inn, where I was not so blind and my lord not so cunning but what I could see he had some design to hold me prisoner. |
| 14581 |
I thought of it lightly then, knowing so little as I did of that inclement province: the retrospect is different; and I wonder at times if some of the horror of there events which I must now rehearse flowed not from the foul skies and savage winds to which we were exposed, and the agony of cold that we must suffer. |
| 14582 |
The boat having passed by, I thought at first we should have left the town. But no such matter. My lord continued his stay in Albany where he had no ostensible affairs, and kept me by him, far from my due employment, and making a pretence of occupation. It is upon this passage I expect, and perhaps deserve, censure. |
| 14583 |
But this I always thought of as a weakness of the flesh and even culpable; my mind remaining steady and quite bent against him. True, yet again, that it was one thing to assume on my own shoulders the guilt and danger of a criminal attempt, and another to stand by and see my lord imperil and besmirch himself. |
| 14584 |
By day he would still lay upon me endless tasks, which he showed considerable ingenuity to fish up and renew, in the manner of Penelope's web. I never refused, as I say, for I was hired to do his bidding; but I took no pains to keep my penetration under a bushel, and would sometimes smile in his face. |
| 14585 |
Something not unlike is to be heard upon the lips of children, ere they learn shame; from those of a man grown elderly, it had a strange effect. He opened the door with noisy precaution; peered in, shading his candle; conceived me to slumber; entered, set his light upon the table, and took off his hat. |
| 14586 |
I know nothing less respectable than the tears of drunkenness, and turned my back impatiently on this poor sight. But he had started himself (I am to suppose) on that slippery descent of self pity; on the which, to a man unstrung by old sorrows and recent potations there is no arrest except exhaustion. |
| 14587 |
All this while, no doubt, my lord waited with growing impatiency for news of his accomplices. Harris, it is to be thought, had promised a high degree of expedition; the time was already overpast when word was to be looked for; and suspense was a very evil counsellor to a man of an impaired intelligence. |
| 14588 |
Sir William was well attended and liberally supplied. Hunters brought us venison, fish was taken for us daily in the streams, and brandy ran like water. We proceeded by day and encamped by night in the military style; sentinels were set and changed; every man had his named duty; and Sir William was the spring of all. |
| 14589 |
There was one singularity in the position. If Secundra Dass knew and concealed his knowledge of English, Harris was a proficient in several of the tongues of India, and as his career in that part of the world had been a great deal worse than profligate, he had not thought proper to remark upon the circumstance. |
| 14590 |
The plotters, so soon as this advantage was explained, returned to camp; Harris, hearing the Hindustani was once more closeted with his master, crept to the side of the tent; and the rest, sitting about the fire with their tobacco, awaited his report with impatience. When he came at last, his face was very black. |
| 14591 |
It was to temporise, to be wary and watch the Master, to be silent and supply no further aliment to his suspicions, and to depend entirely (as well as I make out) on the chance that their victim was as greedy, hopeful, and irrational as themselves, and might, after all, betray his life and treasure. |
| 14592 |
The same night it was announced they were to leave the boats and proceed by foot, a circumstance which (as it put an end to the confusion of the portages) greatly lessened the chances of escape. And now there began between the two sides a silent contest, for life on the one hand, for riches on the other. |
| 14593 |
Indeed, Mountain confessed to me they would soon have disbelieved the Captain's story, and supposed their designated victim still quite innocent of their designs; but for the fact that he continued (however ingeniously) to give the slip to questions, and the yet stronger confirmation of his repeated efforts to escape. |
| 14594 |
Silence followed for awhile, and presently the whole party became involved in disputation: the Master lying on his back, with his hands knit under his head and one knee flung across the other, like a person unconcerned in the result. And here, I daresay, his bravado carried him too far and prejudiced his case. |
| 14595 |
At least, after a cast or two back and forward, opinion settled finally against him. It's possible he hoped to repeat the business of the pirate ship, and be himself, perhaps, on hard enough conditions, elected leader; and things went so far that way, that Mountain actually threw out the proposition. |
| 14596 |
Here he was whether caught or come back was all one to Hastie: the point was to make an end of the business. As for the talk of deposing and electing captains, he hoped they were all free men and could attend their own affairs. That was dust flung in their eyes, and so was the proposal to fight Harris. |
| 14597 |
But if it's excitement the gentleman is after, I can supply him with more than perhaps he cares about. For I have no intention to spend the remainder of my life in these mountains; already I have been too long; and I propose that he should immediately tell us where that treasure is, or else immediately be shot. |
| 14598 |
Early in the night, word went about the camp that he was sick; and the first thing the next morning he called Hastie to his side, and inquired most anxiously if he had any skill in medicine. As a matter of fact, this was a vanity of that fallen divinity student's, to which he had cunningly addressed himself. |
| 14599 |
Hastie examined him; and being flattered, ignorant, and highly auspicious, knew not in the least whether the man was sick or malingering. In this state he went forth again to his companions; and (as the thing which would give himself most consequence either way) announced that the patient was in a fair way to die. |
| 14600 |
On the other hand, although the Master seemed extremely low, spoke scarce above a whisper, and lay much of the time insensible, it was still possible it was a fraudulent sickness; and if all went treasure hunting, it might prove they had gone upon a wild goose chase, and return to find their prisoner flown. |
| 14601 |
Sunrise of next day beheld the Master's burial, all hands attending with great decency of demeanour; and the body was laid in the earth, wrapped in a fur robe, with only the face uncovered; which last was of a waxy whiteness, and had the nostrils plugged according to some Oriental habit of Secundra's. |
| 14602 |
No sooner was the grave filled than the lamentations of the Indian once more struck concern to every heart; and it appears this gang of murderers, so far from resenting his outcries, although both distressful and (in such a country) perilous to their own safety, roughly but kindly endeavoured to console him. |
| 14603 |
Morning found them in the same disposition; only Pinkerton, who lay on Mountain's right, between him and Hastie, had (in the hours of darkness) been secretly butchered, and there lay, still wrapped as to his body in his mantle, but offering above that ungodly and horrific spectacle of the scalped head. |
| 14604 |
The gang were that morning as pale as a company of phantoms, for the pertinacity of Indian war (or to speak more correctly, Indian murder) was well known to all. But they laid the chief blame on their unsentinelled posture; and fired with the neighbourhood of the treasure, determined to continue where they were. |
| 14605 |
Pinkerton was buried hard by the Master; the survivors again passed the day in exploration, and returned in a mingled humour of anxiety and hope, being partly certain they were now close on the discovery of what they sought, and on the other hand (with the return of darkness) were infected with the fear of Indians. |
| 14606 |
My eyes followed his, and rested almost pleasantly upon the frosted contexture of the pines, rising in moonlit hillocks, or sinking in the shadow of small glens. Hard by, I told myself, was the grave of our enemy, now gone where the wicked cease from troubling, the earth heaped for ever on his once so active limbs. |
| 14607 |
For was not my lord dead also? a maimed soldier, looking vainly for discharge, lingering derided in the line of battle? A kind man, I remembered him; wise, with a decent pride, a son perhaps too dutiful, a husband only too loving, one that could suffer and be silent, one whose hand I loved to press. |
| 14608 |
Rough goods, such as make the wealth of foresters, were sprinkled here and there upon the ground in meaningless disarray. About the midst, a tent stood, silvered with frost: the door open, gaping on the black interior. At the one end of this small stage lay what seemed the tattered remnants of a man. |
| 14609 |
One thing only I know, that it was still night, and the moon was not yet set, although it had sunk low, and now barred the plateau with long shadows, when Secundra uttered a small cry of satisfaction; and, leaning swiftly forth, I thought I could myself perceive a change upon that icy countenance of the unburied. |
| 14610 |
You would think such labours might have vitalised a stone; but, except for that one moment (which was my lord's death), the black spirit of the Master held aloof from its discarded clay; and by about the hour of noon, even the faithful servant was at length convinced. He took it with unshaken quietude. |
| 14611 |
Thus I might begin this tale with a biography of Tonti birthplace, parentage, genius probably inherited from his mother, remarkable instance of precocity, etc and a complete treatise on the system to which he bequeathed his name. The material is all beside me in a pigeon hole, but I scorn to appear vainglorious. |
| 14612 |
But he pressed interpreters into his service whenever he could get their services for nothing and by one means and another filled many notebooks with the results of his researches. In these wanderings he spent several years, and only returned to England when the increasing age of his charges needed his attention. |
| 14613 |
In fact, when Joseph went over his accounts preparatory to surrendering his trust, he was dismayed to discover that his brother's fortune had not increased by his stewardship; even by making over to his two wards every penny he had in the world, there would still be a deficit of seven thousand eight hundred pounds. |
| 14614 |
He had never been unkind; his age spoke for him loudly; there was something appealing in his whole souled quest of knowledge and innocent delight in the smallest mark of admiration; and, though the lawyer had warned her she was being sacrificed, Julia had refused to add to the perplexities of Uncle Joseph. |
| 14615 |
His uncle was a rather gambling stock in which he had invested heavily; and he spared no pains in nursing the security. The old man was seen monthly by a physician, whether he was well or ill. His diet, his raiment, his occasional outings, now to Brighton, now to Bournemouth, were doled out to him like pap to infants. |
| 14616 |
The way there was probably dreary enough, for there was no pretence of friendly feeling; Morris had never ceased to upbraid his guardian with his defalcation and to lament the burthen of Miss Hazeltine; and Joseph, though he was a mild enough soul, regarded his nephew with something very near akin to hatred. |
| 14617 |
In reality the business was entirely his; and he found it an inheritance of sorrows. He tried to sell it, and the offers he received were quite derisory. He tried to extend it, and it was only the liabilities he succeeded in extending; to restrict it, and it was only the profits he managed to restrict. |
| 14618 |
Here, then, were all the elements of compromise assembled; and Morris, suddenly beholding his seven thousand eight hundred pounds restored to him, and himself dismissed from the vicissitudes of the leather trade, hastened the next morning to the office of his cousin Michael. Michael was something of a public character. |
| 14619 |
He was prepared for any sacrifice; all he desired was to get his money again and clear his feet of leather; and it would be strange, since he was so modest in his desires, and the pool amounted to upward of a hundred and sixteen thousand pounds it would be strange indeed if he could find no way of influencing Michael. |
| 14620 |
The train travelled forth into the world, bearing along with it the customary freight of obliterated voyagers, and along with these old Joseph, affecting immersion in his paper, and John slumbering over the columns of the Pink Un, and Morris revolving in his mind a dozen grudges, and suspicions, and alarms. |
| 14621 |
Many passengers put their heads to the window, and among the rest an old gentleman on whom I willingly dwell, for I am nearly done with him now, and (in the whole course of the present narrative) I am not in the least likely to meet another character so decent. His name is immaterial, not so his habits. |
| 14622 |
From the oculist to the dentist, and from both to the physician, the step appears inevitable; presently he was in the hands of Sir Faraday, robed in ventilating cloth and sent to Bournemouth; and to that domineering baronet (who was his only friend upon his native soil) he was now returning to report. |
| 14623 |
And that would be literally all. Perhaps the old gentleman thought something of the sort, for he looked melancholy enough as he pulled his bare, grey head back into the carriage, and the train smoked under the bridge, and forth, with ever quickening speed, across the mingled heaths and woods of the New Forest. |
| 14624 |
He had a wild dream of having seen the carriage double up and fall to pieces like a pantomime trick; and sure enough, when he came to himself, he was lying on the bare earth and under the open sky. His head ached savagely; he carried his hand to his brow, and was not surprised to see it red with blood. |
| 14625 |
They must have thus examined forty people, and still there was no word of Uncle Joseph. But now the course of their search brought them near the centre of the collision, where the boilers were still blowing off steam with a deafening clamour. It was a part of the field not yet gleaned by the rescuing party. |
| 14626 |
It was a place where many bodies might lie concealed, and they beat it like pointers after game. Suddenly Morris, who was leading, paused and reached forth his index with a tragic gesture. John followed the direction of his brother's hand. In the bottom of a sandy hole lay something that had once been human. |
| 14627 |
Nor was this all they had effected; already (under the plea that they were landscape painters) they had hired for dawn on the morrow a light but solid two wheeled cart; so that when they entered in their new character, they were able to tell themselves that the back of the business was already broken. |
| 14628 |
Here, then, was the packing case complete; in the absence of straw, the blankets (which he himself, at least, had not the smallest intention of using for their present purpose) would exactly take the place of packing; and Morris, as the difficulties began to vanish from his path, rose almost to the brink of exultation. |
| 14629 |
He had not yet dared to put the question. It was with high good humour that the pair sat down to the deal table, and proceeded to fall to on the pork pie. Morris retailed the discovery of the lid, and the Great Vance was pleased to applaud by beating on the table with his fork in true music hall style. |
| 14630 |
It was John's favourite game; indeed his only game he had found all the rest too intellectual and he played it with equal skill and good fortune. To Morris himself, on the other hand, the whole business was detestable; he was a bad pitcher, he had no luck in tossing, and he was one who suffered torments when he lost. |
| 14631 |
In the infamously prosaic mind of Mr Finsbury, certain streaks of poetry survived and were still efficient; they had carried him to Asia Minor as a giddy youth of forty, and now, in the first hours of his recovered freedom, they suggested to him the idea of continuing his flight in Mr Chandler's cart. |
| 14632 |
It would be cheap; properly broached, it might even cost nothing, and, after years of mittens and hygienic flannel, his heart leaped out to meet the notion of exposure. Mr Chandler was perhaps a little puzzled to find so old a gentleman, so strangely clothed, and begging for a lift on so retired a roadside. |
| 14633 |
But he was a good natured man, glad to do a service, and so he took the stranger up; and he had his own idea of civility, and so he asked no questions. Silence, in fact, was quite good enough for Mr Chandler; but the cart had scarcely begun to move forward ere he found himself involved in a one sided conversation. |
| 14634 |
I have here some calculations I made this morning upon the cost of living in this and other countries a subject, I need scarcely say, highly interesting to the working classes. I have calculated a scale of living for incomes of eighty, one hundred and sixty, two hundred, and two hundred and forty pounds a year. |
| 14635 |
His appearance, besides, was highly in his favour; the uniform of Sir Faraday, however inconvenient and conspicuous, was, at least, a costume in which no swindler could have hoped to prosper; and the exhibition of a valuable watch and a bill for eight hundred pounds completed what deportment had begun. |
| 14636 |
His body, in the meanwhile, lay doubled on the cushions, the forage cap rakishly tilted back after the fashion of those that lie in wait for nursery maids, the poor old face quiescent, one arm clutching to his heart Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper. To him, thus unconscious, enter and exeunt again a pair of voyagers. |
| 14637 |
It is no business of ours to follow them on this retreat, over which the police were so obliging as to preside paternally. Thus relieved from what he loved to refer to as the Bulgarian Atrocity, Mr Wickham returned to London with the most unbounded and embarrassing gratitude and admiration for his saviour. |
| 14638 |
The water butt with the dead body had miscarried, and it was essential to recover it. So much was clear; and if, by some blest good fortune, it was still at the station, all might be well. If it had been sent out, however, if it were already in the hands of some wrong person, matters looked more ominous. |
| 14639 |
It was a breathing space in the day's traffic. There were few people there, and these for the most part quiescent on the benches. Morris seemed to attract no remark, which was a good thing; but, on the other hand, he was making no progress in his quest. Something must be done, something must be risked. |
| 14640 |
He should lose the tontine, and with that the last hope of his seven thousand eight hundred pounds. But on the other hand, since the shilling to the hansom cabman, he had begun to see that crime was expensive in its course, and, since the loss of the water butt, that it was uncertain in its consequences. |
| 14641 |
There was no hesitation on the part of Morris; to drop the tontine like a hot chestnut, to concentrate all his forces on the leather business and the rest of his small but legitimate inheritance, was the decision of a single instant. And the next, the full extent of his calamity was suddenly disclosed to him. |
| 14642 |
By all accounts the town's alive with them. It wouldn't do, of course, to advertise for a corrupt physician; that would be impolitic. No, I suppose a fellow has simply to spot along the streets for a red lamp and herbs in the window, and then you go in and and and put it to him plainly; though it seems a delicate step. |
| 14643 |
Nothing can be more interesting than the study of signatures, written (as they are) before meals and after, during indigestion and intoxication; written when the signer is trembling for the life of his child or has come from winning the Derby, in his lawyer's office, or under the bright eyes of his sweetheart. |
| 14644 |
I write you in great agitation of mind; for I have made all enquiries, and greatly fear that this work of ancient art has been mislaid. I labour besides under another perplexity, not unconnected with the first. Pray excuse the inelegance of this scrawl, and believe me yours in haste, William D. Pitman. |
| 14645 |
He was at once discharged by the superintendent of the line, who behaved most properly throughout, and is to make enquiries at Southampton. In the meanwhile, what was I to do? I left my address and brought the barrel home; but, remembering an old adage, I determined not to open it except in the presence of my lawyer. |
| 14646 |
I mean to profit by the refreshing fact that we are really and truly innocent; nothing but the presence of the you know what connects us with the crime; once let us get rid of it, no matter how, and there is no possible clue to trace us by. Well, I give you my piano; we'll bring it round this very night. |
| 14647 |
Michael was usually attired in the height of fashion, with a certain mercantile brilliancy best described perhaps as stylish; nor could anything be said against him, as a rule, but that he looked a trifle too like a wedding guest to be quite a gentleman. Today he had fallen altogether from these heights. |
| 14648 |
Walk of Sepoy colonel, ditto, ditto. And in the midst of the Sepoy colonel (which was an excellent assumption, although inconsistent with the style of his make up), his eye lighted on the piano. This instrument was made to lock both at the top and at the keyboard, but the key of the latter had been mislaid. |
| 14649 |
What would his principals think, if they could see him? What if they knew his tragic and deceitful errand? From these reflections he was aroused by the entrance of the alien with the brandies and sodas. Michael took one and bade the waiter pass the other to his friend. Pitman waved it from him with his hand. |
| 14650 |
Pitman, as he sat holding on and gasping counsels, sole witness of this singular feat, knew not whether most to admire the driver's valour or his undeserved good fortune. But the latter at least prevailed, the cart reached Cannon Street without disaster; and Mr Brown's piano was speedily and cleverly got on board. |
| 14651 |
There, in a deserted by street, Michael drew up the horses and gave them in charge to a blighted shoe black; and the pair descending from the cart, whereon they had figured so incongruously, set forth on foot for the decisive scene of their adventure. For the first time Michael displayed a shadow of uneasiness. |
| 14652 |
A good many persons were present, a waterman from a cab stand, half a dozen of the chronically unemployed, a gentleman (in one corner) trying to sell aesthetic photographs out of a leather case to another and very youthful gentleman with a yellow goatee, and a pair of lovers debating some fine shade (in the other). |
| 14653 |
You have probably not had my opportunities of comparing distant lands; but I can assure you this has been long ago recognized as a mark of aristocratic government. Do you suppose, in a country really self governed, such abuses could exist? Your own intelligence, however uncultivated, tells you they could not. |
| 14654 |
I live for my calculations; I live for my manifold and ever changing views of life; pens and paper and the productions of the popular press are to me as important as food and drink; and my life was growing quite intolerable when, in the confusion of that fortunate railway accident at Browndean, I made my escape. |
| 14655 |
It was all dark within, for the night had some time fallen; but Gideon knew his room, he knew where the matches stood on the end of the chimney piece; and he advanced boldly, and in so doing dashed himself against a heavy body; where (slightly altering the expressions of the song) no heavy body should have been. |
| 14656 |
That trill of tiny song with which the eaves birds of London welcome the approach of day found him limp and rumpled and bloodshot, and with a mind still vacant of resource. He rose and looked forth unrejoicingly on blinded windows, an empty street, and the grey daylight dotted with the yellow lamps. |
| 14657 |
It was fortunate he had not done so, he reflected, since the hulk was now required for very different purposes. Jimson, a man of inconspicuous costume, but insinuating manners, had little difficulty in finding the hireling who had charge of the houseboat, and still less in persuading him to resign his care. |
| 14658 |
And it was a dreary moment for Jimson when he pulled this after him and found himself alone on this unwholesome fortress. He could hear the rats scuttle and flop in the abhorred interior; the key cried among the wards like a thing in pain; the sitting room was deep in dust, and smelt strong of bilge water. |
| 14659 |
Only a few hundred yards above another houseboat lay moored among the willows. It was very spick and span, an elegant canoe hung at the stern, the windows were concealed by snowy curtains, a flag floated from a staff. The more Gideon looked at it, the more there mingled with his disgust a sense of impotent surprise. |
| 14660 |
It was very like his uncle's houseboat; it was exceedingly like it was identical. But for two circumstances, he could have sworn it was the same. The first, that his uncle had gone to Maidenhead, might be explained away by that flightiness of purpose which is so common a trait among the more than usually manly. |
| 14661 |
Here he was anchored to a rotting houseboat, soon to be anchored to it still more emphatically by the presence of the corpse, and here was the country buzzing about him, and young ladies already proposing pleasure parties to surround his house at night. Well, that meant the gallows; and much he cared for that. |
| 14662 |
Her sketch was promising; judging from the stillness, she supposed Jimson not yet come; and she had decided to seize occasion and complete the work of art. Down she sat therefore in the bow, produced her block and water colours, and was soon singing over (what used to be called) the ladylike accomplishment. |
| 14663 |
The barrister (whatever were his faults) displayed on this occasion a promptitude worthy of his hero, Robert Skill; with one effort of his mind he foresaw what was about to follow; with one movement of his body he dropped to the floor and crawled under the table. Julia, on her part, was not yet alive to her position. |
| 14664 |
She made the circuit of the house, and found the door open and the bridge withdrawn. It was plain, then, that Jimson must have come; plain, too, that he must be on board. He must be a very shy man to have suffered this invasion of his residence, and made no sign; and her courage rose higher at the thought. |
| 14665 |
And the next moment she remembered he had probably gone aboard like herself in a boat. In that case she might as well see the houseboat, and she pushed open the door and stepped in. Under the table, where he lay smothered with dust, Gideon's heart stood still. There were the remains of Jimson's lunch. |
| 14666 |
If the piano comes, then he could step out and take it in; and if the police come, he could slip into our houseboat, and there needn't be any more Jimson at all. He could go to bed, and we could burn his clothes (couldn't we?) in the steam launch; and then really it seems as if it would be all right. |
| 14667 |
He must be helped on board his own waggon, where he proceeded to display a spirit entirely given over to mirth and music, alternately hooting with laughter, to which the sergeant hastened to bear chorus, and incoherently tootling on the pipe. The man of war, meantime, unostentatiously possessed himself of the reins. |
| 14668 |
A little above him the lights of a houseboat shone cheerfully; and already close at hand, so close that it was impossible to avoid their notice, three persons, a lady and two gentlemen, were deliberately drawing near. The sergeant put his trust in the convenient darkness of the night, and drove on to meet them. |
| 14669 |
But the study is in the spirit of the day; it presents, besides, features of a high, almost a repulsive, morality; and if it should prove the means of preventing any respectable and inexperienced gentleman from plunging light heartedly into crime, even political crime, this work will not have been penned in vain. |
| 14670 |
An honest man would not have cashed the bill; a humane man would not have accepted in silence the tragic contents of the water butt; a man, who was not already up to the hilts in gore, would have lacked the means of secretly disposing them. This process of reasoning left a horrid image of the monster, Pitman. |
| 14671 |
I wouldn't have even begun this business in a novel, but what I'd have met a dark, slouching fellow in the Oxford Road, who'd have become my accomplice, and known all about how to do it, and probably broken into Michael's house at night and found nothing but a waxwork image; and then blackmailed or murdered me. |
| 14672 |
As for Morris, who had almost forgotten the meaning of good news, he longed to sob like a little child; he could have caught the manager (a pallid man with startled eyebrows) to his bosom; he could have found it in his generosity to give a cheque (for a small sum) to every clerk in the counting house. |
| 14673 |
Mr Moss was a radiant Hebrew, brutally handsome, and offensively polite. He was acting, it appeared, for a third party; he understood nothing of the circumstances; his client desired to have his position regularized; but he would accept an antedated cheque antedated by two months, if Mr Finsbury chose. |
| 14674 |
Not at John Street, for it would never do to let a man like Bent Pitman know your real address; nor yet at Pitman's house, some dreadful place in Holloway, with a trapdoor in the back kitchen; a house which you might enter in a light summer overcoat and varnished boots, to come forth again piecemeal in a market basket. |
| 14675 |
I put it to yourself if that's probable; and yet it's not against the laws of nature. But we sit here to consider probabilities; and with your genteel permission, I eliminate her Majesty and Uncle Tim on the threshold. To proceed, we have your second idea, that this has some connection with the statue. |
| 14676 |
Possible; but in that case who is the advertiser? Not Ricardi, for he knows your address; not the person who got the box, for he doesn't know your name. The vanman, I hear you suggest, in a lucid interval. He might have got your name, and got it incorrectly, at the station; and he might have failed to get your address. |
| 14677 |
Again and again he struggled to compose himself, and again and again laughter overwhelmed him like a tide. In all this maddening interview there had been no more spectral feature than this of Michael's merriment; and Pitman and Morris, drawn together by the common fear, exchanged glances of anxiety. |
| 14678 |
He was a modest man; he had never conceived an overweening notion of his own powers; he knew himself unfit to write a book, turn a table napkin ring, entertain a Christmas party with legerdemain grapple (in short) any of those conspicuous accomplishments that are usually classed under the head of genius. |
| 14679 |
Even as the sick dog crawls under the sofa, Morris could shut the door of John Street and be alone. The dusk was falling when he drew near this place of refuge; and the first thing that met his eyes was the figure of a man upon the step, alternately plucking at the bell handle and pounding on the panels. |
| 14680 |
They got a spirit lamp and the Pink Un, and that old religious paper, and another periodical you sent me. I think you must have been drunk it had a name like one of those spots that Uncle Joseph used to hold forth at, and it was all full of the most awful swipes about poetry and the use of the globes. |
| 14681 |
And the same doom extended even to his agents; his grieve, that had been his right hand in many a left hand business, being cast from his horse one night and drowned in a peat hag on the Kye skairs; and his very doer (although lawyers have long spoons) surviving him not long, and dying on a sudden in a bloody flux. |
| 14682 |
She bore the name of the Rutherfords, but she was the daughter of their trembling wives. At the first she was not wholly without charm. Neighbours recalled in her, as a child, a strain of elfin wilfulness, gentle little mutinies, sad little gaieties, even a morning gleam of beauty that was not to be fulfilled. |
| 14683 |
But chance cast her in the path of Adam Weir, then the new Lord Advocate, a recognised, risen man, the conqueror of many obstacles, and thus late in the day beginning to think upon a wife. He was one who looked rather to obedience than beauty, yet it would seem he was struck with her at the first look. |
| 14684 |
Mr. Weir must have supposed his bride to be somehow suitable; perhaps he belonged to that class of men who think a weak head the ornament of women an opinion invariably punished in this life. Her descent and her estate were beyond question. Her wayfaring ancestors and her litigious father had done well by Jean. |
| 14685 |
None thought to dispute or to make excuses; the service was arrested; Mrs. Weir sat at the head of the table whimpering without disguise; and his lordship opposite munched his bread and cheese in ostentatious disregard. Once only, Mrs. Weir had ventured to appeal. He was passing her chair on his way into the study. |
| 14686 |
He thought maid and master were well matched; hard, bandy, healthy, broad Scots folk, without a hair of nonsense to the pair of them. And the fact was that she made a goddess and an only child of the effete and tearful lady; and even as she waited at table her hands would sometimes itch for my lord's ears. |
| 14687 |
The sight of the little man at her skirt intoxicated her with the sense of power, and froze her with the consciousness of her responsibility. She looked forward, and, seeing him in fancy grow up and play his diverse part on the world's theatre, caught in her breath and lifted up her courage with a lively effort. |
| 14688 |
It seems strange to say of this colourless and ineffectual woman, but she was a true enthusiast, and might have made the sunshine and the glory of a cloister. Perhaps none but Archie knew she could be eloquent; perhaps none but he had seen her her colour raised, her hands clasped or quivering glow with gentle ardour. |
| 14689 |
Upon an impressionable child the effect of this continual and pretty accompaniment to life was deep. The woman's quietism and piety passed on to his different nature undiminished; but whereas in her it was a native sentiment, in him it was only an implanted dogma. Nature and the child's pugnacity at times revolted. |
| 14690 |
The man was mostly silent; when he spoke at all, it was to speak of the things of the world, always in a worldly spirit, often in language that the child had been schooled to think coarse, and sometimes with words that he knew to be sins in themselves. Tenderness was the first duty, and my lord was invariably harsh. |
| 14691 |
He will instantly submit, privately hold the same opinion. For even in this simple and antique relation of the mother and the child, hypocrisies are multiplied. When the Court rose that year and the family returned to Hermiston, it was a common remark in all the country that the lady was sore failed. |
| 14692 |
It was the lowering nightfall when my lord returned. He had the sunset in his back, all clouds and glory; and before him, by the wayside, spied Kirstie Elliott waiting. She was dissolved in tears, and addressed him in the high, false note of barbarous mourning, such as still lingers modified among Scots heather. |
| 14693 |
He did not try to be loved, he did not care to be; it is probable the very thought of it was a stranger to his mind. He was an admired lawyer, a highly unpopular judge; and he looked down upon those who were his inferiors in either distinction, who were lawyers of less grasp or judges not so much detested. |
| 14694 |
Yet it was still present, unobserved like the ticking of a clock, an arid ideal, a tasteless stimulant in the boy's life. But Hermiston was not all of one piece. He was, besides, a mighty toper; he could sit at wine until the day dawned, and pass directly from the table to the bench with a steady hand and a clear head. |
| 14695 |
Beyond the third bottle, he showed the plebeian in a larger print; the low, gross accent, the low, foul mirth, grew broader and commoner; he became less formidable, and infinitely more disgusting. Now, the boy had inherited from Jean Rutherford a shivering delicacy, unequally mated with potential violence. |
| 14696 |
His exquisite disparity with any of his fellow guests, his appearance as of an artist and an aristocrat stranded in rude company, riveted the boy's attention; and as curiosity and interest are the things in the world that are the most immediately and certainly rewarded, Lord Glenalmond was attracted by the boy. |
| 14697 |
He scarce lost an opportunity to put them down with a rough jape; and, to say truth, it was not difficult, for they were neither of them quick. He had a word of contempt for the whole crowd of poets, painters, fiddlers, and their admirers, the bastard race of amateurs, which was continually on his lips. |
| 14698 |
It should seem he must become the centre of a crowd of friends; but something that was in part the delicacy of his mother, in part the austerity of his father, held him aloof from all. It is a fact, and a strange one, that among his contemporaries Hermiston's son was thought to be a chip of the old block. |
| 14699 |
With a face, voice, and manner trained through forty years to terrify and repel, Rhadamanthus may be great, but he will scarce be engaging. It is a fact that he tried to propitiate Archie, but a fact that cannot be too lightly taken; the attempt was so unconspicuously made, the failure so stoically supported. |
| 14700 |
Over against him, my Lord Hermiston occupied the bench in the red robes of criminal jurisdiction, his face framed in the white wig. Honest all through, he did not affect the virtue of impartiality; this was no case for refinement; there was a man to be hanged, he would have said, and he was hanging him. |
| 14701 |
And the judge had pursued him with a monstrous, relishing gaiety, horrible to be conceived, a trait for nightmares. It is one thing to spear a tiger, another to crush a toad; there are aesthetics even of the slaughter house; and the loathsomeness of Duncan Jopp enveloped and infected the image of his judge. |
| 14702 |
He looked on for a while at a certain parody of devotion, which seemed to strip the wretch of his last claim to manhood. Then followed the brutal instant of extinction, and the paltry dangling of the remains like a broken jumping jack. He had been prepared for something terrible, not for this tragic meanness. |
| 14703 |
I doubt if Innes had the least belief in his prediction; I think it flowed rather from a wish to make the story as good and the scandal as great as possible; not from any ill will to Archie from the mere pleasure of beholding interested faces. But for all that his words were prophetic. Archie did not forget the Spec. |
| 14704 |
He sat in the same room where the Society still meets only the portraits were not there: the men who afterwards sat for them were then but beginning their career. The same lustre of many tapers shed its light over the meeting; the same chair, perhaps, supported him that so many of us have sat in since. |
| 14705 |
He signed to Innes (whom he had just fined, and who just impeached his ruling) to succeed him in the chair, stepped down from the platform, and took his place by the chimney piece, the shine of many wax tapers from above illuminating his pale face, the glow of the great red fire relieving from behind his slim figure. |
| 14706 |
For he had struck him defied him twice over and before a cloud of witnesses struck him a public buffet before crowds. Who had called him to judge his father in these precarious and high questions? The office was usurped. It might have become a stranger; in a son there was no blinking it in a son, it was disloyal. |
| 14707 |
He knew the father well; in that white face of intelligence and suffering, he divined something of the son; and he told, without apology or adornment, the plain truth. "When you had the measles, Mr. Archibald, you had them gey and ill; and I thought you were going to slip between my fingers," he said. |
| 14708 |
The mind of the vile jester, the tongue that had pursued Duncan Jopp with unmanly insults, the unbeloved countenance that he had known and feared for so long, were all forgotten; and he hastened home, impatient to confess his misdeeds, impatient to throw himself on the mercy of this imaginary character. |
| 14709 |
The judge came without haste, stepping stately and firm; his chin raised, his face (as he entered the lamplight) strongly illumined, his mouth set hard. There was never a wink of change in his expression; without looking to the right or left, he mounted the stair, passed close to Archie, and entered the house. |
| 14710 |
At every word, this sense of the greatness of Lord Hermiston's spirit struck more home; and along with it that of his own impotence, who had struck and perhaps basely struck at his own father, and not reached so far as to have even nettled him. "I place myself in your hands without reserve," he said. |
| 14711 |
In his robes upon the bench, Glenalmond had a certain air of burliness: plucked of these, it was a may pole of a man that rose unsteadily from his chair to give his visitor welcome. Archie had suffered much in the last days, he had suffered again that evening; his face was white and drawn, his eyes wild and dark. |
| 14712 |
First of all, I cannot acquit you of a good deal of what is called intolerance. You seem to have been very much offended because your father talks a little sculduddery after dinner, which it is perfectly licit for him to do, and which (although I am not very fond of it myself) appears to be entirely an affair of taste. |
| 14713 |
Standing so high and with so little shelter, it was a cold, exposed house, splashed by showers, drenched by continuous rains that made the gutters to spout, beaten upon and buffeted by all the winds of heaven; and the prospect would be often black with tempest, and often white with the snows of winter. |
| 14714 |
Archie had no great mind to this diversion, but he took it like a duty laid upon him, went with a decent regularity, did his manfullest with the liquor, held up his head in the local jests, and got home again and was able to put up his horse, to the admiration of Kirstie and the lass that helped her. |
| 14715 |
She carried her thwarted ardours into housework, she washed floors with her empty heart. If she could not win the love of one with love, she must dominate all by her temper. Hasty, wordy, and wrathful, she had a drawn quarrel with most of her neighbours, and with the others not much more than armed neutrality. |
| 14716 |
She had known him in the cradle and paddled him when he misbehaved; and yet, as she had not so much as set eyes on him since he was eleven and had his last serious illness, the tall, slender, refined, and rather melancholy young gentleman of twenty came upon her with the shock of a new acquaintance. |
| 14717 |
The men of the Elliotts were proud, lawless, violent as of right, cherishing and prolonging a tradition. In like manner with the women. And the woman, essentially passionate and reckless, who crouched on the rug, in the shine of the peat fire, telling these tales, had cherished through life a wild integrity of virtue. |
| 14718 |
Except when he was carrying an infant in his arms, he was rarely seen to smile as, indeed, there were few smilers in that family. When his sister in law rallied him, and proposed that he should get a wife and bairns of his own, since he was so fond of them, "I have no clearness of mind upon that point," he would reply. |
| 14719 |
If nobody called him in to dinner, he stayed out. Mrs. Hob, a hard, unsympathetic woman, once tried the experiment. He went without food all day, but at dusk, as the light began to fail him, he came into the house of his own accord, looking puzzled. "I've had a great gale of prayer upon my speerit," said he. |
| 14720 |
He had come back with the good news that there was nobody to compare with the Four Black Brothers, no position that they would not adorn, no official that it would not be well they should replace, no interest of mankind, secular or spiritual, which would not immediately bloom under their supervision. |
| 14721 |
There appeared upon the face of this attitude in the family the consequences of some dreadful feud. Presumably the two women had been principals in the original encounter, and the laird had probably been drawn into the quarrel by the ears, too late to be included in the present skin deep reconciliation. |
| 14722 |
Hermiston pew was a little square box, dwarfish in proportion with the kirk itself, and enclosing a table not much bigger than a footstool. There sat Archie, an apparent prince, the only undeniable gentleman and the only great heritor in the parish, taking his ease in the only pew, for no other in the kirk had doors. |
| 14723 |
The pity of it, and something of the chill of the grave, shook him for a moment as he made haste to enter. He went up the aisle reverently, and took his place in the pew with lowered eyes, for he feared he had already offended the kind old gentleman in the pulpit, and was sedulous to offend no further. |
| 14724 |
Dandie's sister, sitting by the side of Clem in her new Glasgow finery, chose that moment to observe the young laird. Aware of the stir of his entrance, the little formalist had kept her eyes fastened and her face prettily composed during the prayer. It was not hypocrisy, there was no one further from a hypocrite. |
| 14725 |
Small wonder that, as she stood there in her attitude of pretty decency, her mind should run upon him! If he spared a glance in her direction, he should know she was a well behaved young lady who had been to Glasgow. In reason he must admire her clothes, and it was possible that he should think her pretty. |
| 14726 |
For a moment, they were riveted. Next she had plucked her gaze home again like a tame bird who should have meditated flight. Possibilities crowded on her; she hung over the future and grew dizzy; the image of this young man, slim, graceful, dark, with the inscrutable half smile, attracted and repelled her like a chasm. |
| 14727 |
Amongst all the rosy and all the weathered faces that surrounded her in church, she glowed like an open flower girl and raiment, and the cairngorm that caught the daylight and returned it in a fiery flash, and the threads of bronze and gold that played in her hair. Archie was attracted by the bright thing like a child. |
| 14728 |
He knew who she must be Kirstie, she of the harsh diminutive, his housekeeper's niece, the sister of the rustic prophet, Gib and he found in her the answer to his wishes. Christina felt the shock of their encountering glances, and seemed to rise, clothed in smiles, into a region of the vague and bright. |
| 14729 |
She knew what she should have done, too late turned slowly with her nose in the air. And meantime his look was not removed, but continued to play upon her like a battery of cannon constantly aimed, and now seemed to isolate her alone with him, and now seemed to uplift her, as on a pillory, before the congregation. |
| 14730 |
He saw the breasts heave, and the flowers shake with the heaving, and marvelled what should so much discompose the girl. And Christina was conscious of his gaze saw it, perhaps, with the dainty plaything of an ear that peeped among her ringlets; she was conscious of changing colour, conscious of her unsteady breath. |
| 14731 |
Shame bowed him down, and he looked resolutely at Mr. Torrance; who little supposed, good, worthy man, as he continued to expound justification by faith, what was his true business: to play the part of derivative to a pair of children at the old game of falling in love. Christina was greatly relieved at first. |
| 14732 |
Well, it was a blessing he had found something else to look at! And presently she began to have other thoughts. It was necessary, she fancied, that she should put herself right by a repetition of the incident, better managed. If the wish was father to the thought, she did not know or she would not recognise it. |
| 14733 |
It was simply as a manoeuvre of propriety, as something called for to lessen the significance of what had gone before, that she should a second time meet his eyes, and this time without blushing. And at the memory of the blush, she blushed again, and became one general blush burning from head to foot. |
| 14734 |
A charge as of electricity passed through Christina, and behold! the leaf of her psalm book was torn across. Archie was outside by the gate of the graveyard, conversing with Hob and the minister and shaking hands all round with the scattering congregation, when Clem and Christina were brought up to be presented. |
| 14735 |
But these struck aside to their various destinations or were out walked and left behind; and when she had driven off with sharp words the proffered convoy of some of her nephews and nieces, she was free to go on alone up Hermiston brae, walking on air, dwelling intoxicated among clouds of happiness. |
| 14736 |
The old grey moors were all about them; in the midst a few sheep wandered; and they could see on the one hand the straggling caravan scaling the braes in front of them for Cauldstaneslap, and on the other, the contingent from Hermiston bending off and beginning to disappear by detachments into the policy gate. |
| 14737 |
She unloaded her bosom of a prodigious sigh that was all pleasure, and betook herself to run. When she had overtaken the stragglers of her family, she caught up the niece whom she had so recently repulsed, and kissed and slapped her, and drove her away again, and ran after her with pretty cries and laughter. |
| 14738 |
All the way home, she continued under the intoxication of these sky scraping spirits. At table she could talk freely of young Hermiston; gave her opinion of him off hand and with a loud voice, that he was a handsome young gentleman, real well mannered and sensible like, but it was a pity he looked doleful. |
| 14739 |
Only the moment after a memory of his eyes in church embarrassed her. But for this inconsiderable check, all through meal time she had a good appetite, and she kept them laughing at table, until Gib (who had returned before them from Crossmichael and his separative worship) reproved the whole of them for their levity. |
| 14740 |
Had a doctor of medicine come into that loft, he would have diagnosed a healthy, well developed, eminently vivacious lass lying on her face in a fit of the sulks; not one who had just contracted, or was just contracting, a mortal sickness of the mind which should yet carry her towards death and despair. |
| 14741 |
The Slap opened like a doorway between two rounded hillocks; and through this ran the short cut to Hermiston. Immediately on the other side it went down through the Deil's Hags, a considerable marshy hollow of the hill tops, full of springs, and crouching junipers, and pools where the black peat water slumbered. |
| 14742 |
A man might have sat upon the Praying Weaver's stone a half century, and seen none but the Cauldstaneslap children twice in the twenty four hours on their way to the school and back again, an occasional shepherd, the irruption of a clan of sheep, or the birds who haunted about the springs, drinking and shrilly piping. |
| 14743 |
Here she sat down and waited, and looked for a long time at these far away bright panes of glass. It amused her to have so extended a view, she thought. It amused her to see the house of Hermiston to see "folk"; and there was an indistinguishable human unit, perhaps the gardener, visibly sauntering on the gravel paths. |
| 14744 |
It was all very well to say that her brother was a laird himself: it was all very well to speak of casual intermarriages and to count cousinship, like Auntie Kirstie. The difference in their social station was trenchant; propriety, prudence, all that she had ever learned, all that she knew, bade her flee. |
| 14745 |
She stood up and showed herself an instant in the gap relieved upon the sky line; and the next, fled trembling and sat down glowing with excitement on the Weaver's stone. She shut her eyes, seeking, praying for composure. Her hand shook in her lap, and her mind was full of incongruous and futile speeches. |
| 14746 |
It was the best thing that could happen. She would mark a proper distance to him once and for all. Gradually the wheels of her nature ceased to go round so madly, and she sat in passive expectation, a quiet, solitary figure in the midst of the grey moss. I have said she was no hypocrite, but here I am at fault. |
| 14747 |
He had a certain delicacy which had preserved him hitherto unspotted, and which (had either of them guessed it) made him a more dangerous companion when his heart should be really stirred. His throat was dry as he came near; but the appealing sweetness of her smile stood between them like a guardian angel. |
| 14748 |
She, on her part, her means well in hand, watched, womanlike, for any opportunity to shine, to abound in his humour, whatever that might be. The dramatic artist, that lies dormant or only half awake in most human beings, had in her sprung to his feet in a divine fury, and chance had served her well. |
| 14749 |
She looked upon him with a subdued twilight look that became the hour of the day and the train of thought; earnestness shone through her like stars in the purple west; and from the great but controlled upheaval of her whole nature there passed into her voice, and rang in her lightest words, a thrill of emotion. |
| 14750 |
The expression was admirable throughout, for had she not learned it from the lips and under the criticism of the author? When it was done, she turned upon Archie a face softly bright, and eyes gently suffused and shining in the twilight, and his heart rose and went out to her with boundless pity and sympathy. |
| 14751 |
His question was answered. She was a human being tuned to a sense of the tragedy of life; there were pathos and music and a great heart in the girl. He arose instinctively, she also; for she saw she had gained a point, and scored the impression deeper, and she had wit enough left to flee upon a victory. |
| 14752 |
In the falling greyness of the evening he watched her figure winding through the morass, saw it turn a last time and wave a hand, and then pass through the Slap; and it seemed to him as if something went along with her out of the deepest of his heart. And something surely had come, and come to dwell there. |
| 14753 |
He had retained from childhood a picture, now half obliterated by the passage of time and the multitude of fresh impressions, of his mother telling him, with the fluttered earnestness of her voice, and often with dropping tears, the tale of the "Praying Weaver," on the very scene of his brief tragedy and long repose. |
| 14754 |
She saw, some five hundred feet below her, the house making itself bright with candles, and this was a broad hint to her to hurry. For they were only kindled on a Sabbath night with a view to that family worship which rounded in the incomparable tedium of the day and brought on the relaxation of supper. |
| 14755 |
And the talk continued on the subject of the American War, without further reference to the truant who stood by them in the covert of the dusk, thrilling with happiness and the sense of guilt. The signal was given, and the brothers began to go in one after another, amid the jostle and throng of Hob's children. |
| 14756 |
Innes had early word of it, and was able to take precautions. In this immediate welter of his affairs, with an unpleasant charge hanging over him, he had judged it the part of prudence to be off instantly, had written a fervid letter to his father at Inverauld, and put himself in the coach for Crossmichael. |
| 14757 |
Frank was the very picture of good looks, good humour, and manly youth. He had bright eyes with a sparkle and a dance to them, curly hair, a charming smile, brilliant teeth, an admirable carriage of the head, the look of a gentleman, the address of one accustomed to please at first sight and to improve the impression. |
| 14758 |
Wonderful are the virtues of this process generally; but Frank's mistake was in the choice of the some one else. He was not politic in that; he listened to the voice of irritation. Archie had offended him at first by what he had felt to be rather a dry reception, had offended him since by his frequent absences. |
| 14759 |
Dand, on the other hand, he did not value sixpence, and he showed it even while he tried to flatter. Condescension is an excellent thing, but it is strange how one sided the pleasure of it is! He who goes fishing among the Scots peasantry with condescension for a bait will have an empty basket by evening. |
| 14760 |
What I'm afraid of is that the wound's ulcerating. He had always one of those dark, secret, angry natures a little underhand and plenty of bile you know the sort. He must have inherited it from the Weirs, whom I suspect to have been a worthy family of weavers somewhere; what's the cant phrase? sedentary occupation. |
| 14761 |
He was essentially glib, as becomes the young advocate, and essentially careless of the truth, which is the mark of the young ass; and so he talked at random. There was no particular bias, but that one which is indigenous and universal, to flatter himself and to please and interest the present friend. |
| 14762 |
Archie watched him go without moving. He was sorry, but quite unashamed. He hated to be inhospitable, but in one thing he was his father's son. He had a strong sense that his house was his own and no man else's; and to lie at a guest's mercy was what he refused. He hated to seem harsh. But that was Frank's lookout. |
| 14763 |
But it was difficult to advance farther. With his rod for a pretext, he vainly visited each of them in turn; nothing was to be seen suspicious about this trinity of moorland settlements. He would have tried to follow Archie, had it been the least possible, but the nature of the land precluded the idea. |
| 14764 |
The first Sunday Kirstie had managed to stay away from kirk on some pretext of indisposition, which was more truly modesty; the pleasure of beholding Archie seeming too sacred, too vivid for that public place. On the two following, Frank had himself been absent on some of his excursions among the neighbouring families. |
| 14765 |
With the first look, all hesitation was over. She came with the Cauldstaneslap party; then she lived at Cauldstaneslap. Here was Archie's secret, here was the woman, and more than that though I have need here of every manageable attenuation of language with the first look, he had already entered himself as rival. |
| 14766 |
He looked down on Archie as on a very little boy whose strings he pulled as on a horse whom he had backed and bridled by sheer power of intelligence, and whom he might ride to glory or the grave at pleasure. Which was it to be? He lingered long, relishing the details of schemes that he was too idle to pursue. |
| 14767 |
And to her it was as if the whole world had fallen silent; to him, but an unremarkable change of amusements. And she raged to know it. The effervescency of her passionate and irritable nature rose within her at times to bursting point. This is the price paid by age for unseasonable ardours of feeling. |
| 14768 |
She was conscious, even before it was carried out, even on that Sunday night when it began, of an invasion of her rights; and a voice told her the invader's name. Since then, by arts, by accident, by small things observed, and by the general drift of Archie's humour, she had passed beyond all possibility of doubt. |
| 14769 |
She had seen, in imagination, Archie wedded to some tall, powerful, and rosy heroine of the golden locks, made in her own image, for whom she would have strewed the bride bed with delight; and now she could have wept to see the ambition falsified. But the gods had pronounced, and her doom was otherwise. |
| 14770 |
She sat up with her heart beating. He had gone to his room alone, and he had not gone to bed. She might again have one of her night cracks; and at the entrancing prospect, a change came over her mind; with the approach of this hope of pleasure, all the baser metal became immediately obliterated from her thoughts. |
| 14771 |
By the faint light of her nocturnal rush, she stood before the looking glass, carried her shapely arms above her head, and gathered up the treasures of her tresses. She was never backward to admire herself; that kind of modesty was a stranger to her nature; and she paused, struck with a pleased wonder at the sight. |
| 14772 |
Archie had been looking out into the ancient blackness, pierced here and there with a rayless star; taking the sweet air of the moors and the night into his bosom deeply; seeking, perhaps finding, peace after the manner of the unhappy. He turned round as she came in, and showed her a pale face against the window frame. |
| 14773 |
The emptiness and solitude of the great moors seemed to be concentrated there, and Kirstie pointed out by that figure of sunshine for the only inhabitant. His first sight of her was thus excruciatingly sad, like a glimpse of a world from which all light, comfort, and society were on the point of vanishing. |
| 14774 |
The girl, upon her side, drew herself together slowly and stood up, expectant; she was all languor, her face was gone white; her arms ached for him, her soul was on tip toes. But he deceived her, pausing a few steps away, not less white than herself, and holding up his hand with a gesture of denial. |
| 14775 |
To have longed and waited these weary hours for him, rehearsing her endearments to have seen him at last come to have been ready there, breathless, wholly passive, his to do what he would with and suddenly to have found herself confronted with a grey faced, harsh schoolmaster it was too rude a shock. |
| 14776 |
And yet they were all his! His to take and keep, not his to refuse though! In her quick petulant nature, a moment ago on fire with hope, thwarted love and wounded vanity wrought. The schoolmaster that there is in all men, to the despair of all girls and most women, was now completely in possession of Archie. |
| 14777 |
It had in fact been often touched upon, and from the first had been the sore point. Kirstie had wilfully closed the eye of thought; she would not argue even with herself; gallant, desperate little heart, she had accepted the command of that supreme attraction like the call of fate and marched blindfold on her doom. |
| 14778 |
The main hallway of the Sternwood place was two stories high. Over the entrance doors, which would have let in a troop of Indian elephants, there was a broad stained glass panel showing a knight in dark armor rescuing a lady who was tied to a tree and didn't have any clothes on but some very long and convenient hair. |
| 14779 |
There were French doors at the back of the hall, beyond them a wide sweep of emerald grass to a white garage, in front of which a slim dark young chauffeur in shiny black leggings was dusting a maroon Packard convertible. Beyond the garage were some decorative trees trimmed as carefully as poodle dogs. |
| 14780 |
On the east side of the hall a free staircase, tile paved, rose to a gallery with a wrought iron railing and another piece of stained glass romance. Large hard chairs with rounded red plush seats were backed into the vacant spaces of the wall round about. They didn't look as if anybody had ever sat in them. |
| 14781 |
In the middle of the west wall there was a big empty fireplace with a brass screen in four hinged panels, and over the fireplace a marble mantel with cupids at the corners. Above the mantel there was a large oil portrait, and above the portrait two bullet torn or moth eaten cavalry pennants crossed in a glass frame. |
| 14782 |
The portrait was a stiffly posed job of an officer in full regimentals of about the time of the Mexican war. The officer had a neat black Imperial, black mustachios, hot hard coalblack eyes, and the general look of a man it would pay to get along with. I thought this might be General Sternwood's grandfather. |
| 14783 |
I was still staring at the hot black eyes when a door opened far back under the stairs. It wasn't the butler coming back. It was a girl. She was twenty or so, small and delicately put together, but she looked durable. She wore pale blue slacks and they looked well on her. She walked as if she were floating. |
| 14784 |
It didn't seem to bother him. He was a tall, thin, silver man, sixty or close to it or a little past it. He had blue eyes as remote as eyes could be. His skin was smooth and bright and he moved like a man with very sound muscles. He walked slowly across the floor towards us and the girl jerked away from me. |
| 14785 |
He came in after me, shut the outer door, opened an inner door and we went through that. Then it was really hot. The air was thick, wet, steamy and larded with the cloying smell of tropical orchids in bloom. The glass walls and roof were heavily misted and big drops of moisture splashed down on the plants. |
| 14786 |
The soft wet heat was like a pall around us. The old man nodded, as if his neck was afraid of the weight of his head. Then the butler came pushing back through the jungle with a teawagon, mixed me a brandy and soda, swathed the copper ice bucket with a damp napkin, and went away softly among the orchids. |
| 14787 |
The cord was plugged into a black cable that wound along the side of the deep dark green boxes in which the orchids grew and festered. He closed his eyes, opened them again in a brief bright stare, and settled back among his cushions. The lids dropped again and he didn't pay any more attention to me. |
| 14788 |
She was worth a stare. She was trouble. She was stretched out on a modernistic chaise longue with her slippers off, so I stared at her legs in the sheerest silk stockings. They seemed to be arranged to stare at. They were visible to the knee and one of them well beyond. The knees were dimpled, not bony and sharp. |
| 14789 |
She was tall and rangy and strong looking. Her head was against an ivory satin cushion. Her hair was black and wiry and parted in the middle and she had the hot black eyes of the portrait in the hall. She had a good mouth and a good chin. There was a sulky droop to her lips and the lower lip was full. |
| 14790 |
I don't mind your ritzing me or drinking your lunch out of a Scotch bottle. I don't mind your showing me your legs. They're very swell legs and it's a pleasure to make their acquaintance. I don't mind if you don't like my manners. They're pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter evenings. |
| 14791 |
Beyond the fence the hill sloped for several miles. On this lower level faint and far off I could just barely see some of the old wooden derricks of the oilfleld from which the Sternwoods had made their money. Most of the field was public park now, cleaned up and donated to the city by General Sternwood. |
| 14792 |
If they wanted to. I didn't suppose they would want to. I walked down a brick path from terrace to terrace, followed along inside the fence and so out of the gates to where I had left my car under a pepper tree on the street. Thunder was crackling in the foothills now and the sky above them was purple black. |
| 14793 |
The entrance door was set far back in the middle and there was a copper trim on the windows, which were backed with Chinese screens, so I couldn't see into the store. There was a lot of oriental junk in the windows. I didn't know whether it was any good, not being a collector of antiques, except unpaid bills. |
| 14794 |
Nice looking merchandise, the kind a rich promoter would buy by the yard and have somebody paste his bookplate in. At the back there was a grained wood partition with a door in the middle of it, shut. In the corner made by the partition and one wall a woman sat behind a small desk with a carved wooden lantern on it. |
| 14795 |
She got up slowly and swayed towards me in a tight black dress that didn't reflect any light. She had long thighs and she walked with a certain something I hadn't often seen in bookstores. She was an ash blonde with greenish eyes, beaded lashes, hair waved smoothly back from ears in which large jet buttons glittered. |
| 14796 |
She nodded at last, turned slowly and walked back to her little desk in the corner. From behind the lamp she stared at me. I crossed my ankles and yawned. Her silver nails went out to the cradle phone on the desk, didn't touch it, dropped and began to tap on the desk. Silence for about five minutes. |
| 14797 |
The door opened and a tall hungry looking bird with a cane and a big nose came in neatly, shut the door behind him against the pressure of the door closer, marched over to the corner and placed a wrapped parcel on the desk. He took a pinseal wallet with gold corners from his pocket and showed the blonde something. |
| 14798 |
She pressed a button on the desk. The tall bird went to the door in the paneled partition and opened it barely enough to slip through. I finished my cigarette and lit another. The minutes dragged by. Horns tooted and grunted on the boulevard. A big red interurban car grumbled past A traffic light gonged. |
| 14799 |
He had another wrapped parcel, the shape of a large book. He went over to the desk and paid money. He left as he had come, walking on the balls of his feet, breathing with his mouth open, giving me a sharp side glance as he passed. I got to my feet, tipped my hat to the blonde and went out after him. |
| 14800 |
He walked west, swinging his cane in a small tight arc just above his right shoe. He was easy to follow. His coat was cut from a rather loud piece of horse robe with shoulders so wide that his neck stuck up out of it like a celery stalk and his head wobbled on it as he walked. We went a block and a half. |
| 14801 |
A hundred feet up the hill he stopped and hooked his cane over his arm and fumbled a leather cigarette case out of an inner pocket. He put a cigarette in his mouth, dropped his match, looked back when he picked it up, saw me watching him from the corner, and straightened up as if somebody had booted him from behind. |
| 14802 |
It got him. His type are half nerves. I heard a match strike and then whistling started. Then a dim shadow slipped along the grass to the next tree. Then he was out on the walk coming straight towards me, swinging the cane and whistling. A sour whistle with jitters in it. I stared vaguely up at the dark sky. |
| 14803 |
I dropped my nickel and dialed his number just for fun. Nobody answered. I turned to the classified section and noted a couple of bookstores within blocks of where I was. The first I came to was on the north side, a large lower floor devoted to stationery and office supplies, a mass of books on the mezzanine. |
| 14804 |
It didn't look the right place. I crossed the street and walked two blocks east to the other one. This was more like it, a narrowed cluttered little shop stacked with books from floor to ceiling and four or five browsers taking their time putting thumb marks on the new jackets. Nobody paid any attention to them. |
| 14805 |
I knew about what it would be, of course. A heavy book, well bound, handsomely printed in handset type on fine paper. Larded with full page arty photographs. Photos and letterpress were alike of an indescribable filth. The book was not new. Dates were stamped on the front endpaper, in and out dates. |
| 14806 |
Big cops in slickers that shone like gun barrels had a lot of fun carrying giggling girls across the bad places. The rain drummed hard on the roof of the car and the burbank top began to leak. A pool of water formed on the floorboards for me to keep my feet in. It was too early in the fall for that kind of rain. |
| 14807 |
I was long overparked, but the cops were too busy carrying girls and blowing whistles to bother about that. In spite of the rain, or perhaps even because of it, there was business down at Geiger's. Very nice cars stopped in front and very nice looking people went in and out with wrapped parcels. They were not all men. |
| 14808 |
He was hatless and wore a belted green leather raincoat. I couldn't see his glass eye at that distance. A tall and very good looking kid in a jerkin came out of the store and rode the coupe off around the corner and came back walking, his glistening black hair plastered with rain. Another hour went by. |
| 14809 |
Street car bells jangled crossly. At around five fifteen the tall boy in the jerkin came out of Geiger's with an umbrella and went after the cream colored coupe. When he had it in front Geiger came out and the tall boy held the umbrella over Geiger's bare head. He folded it, shook it off and handed it into the car. |
| 14810 |
He dashed back into the store. I started my motor. The coupe went west on the boulevard, which forced me to make a left turn and a lot of enemies, including a motorman who stuck his head out into the rain to bawl me out. I was two blocks behind the coupe before I got in the groove. I hoped Geiger was on his way home. |
| 14811 |
Geiger had his lights on and I hadn't. I speeded up and passed him on a curve, picked a number off a house as I went by and turned at the end of the block. He had already stopped. His car lights were tilted in at the garage of a small house with a square box hedge so arranged that it masked the front door completely. |
| 14812 |
He didn't act as if he expected anybody to be tailing him. Light went on in the house. I drifted down to the next house above it, which seemed empty but had no signs out. I parked, aired out the convertible, had a drink from my bottle, and sat. I didn't know what I was waiting for, but something told me to wait. |
| 14813 |
At a little after six more bright lights bobbed through the driving rain. It was pitch black by then. A car dragged to a stop in front of Geiger's house. The filaments of its lights glowed dimly and died. The door opened and a woman got out. A small slim woman in a vagabond hat and a transparent raincoat. |
| 14814 |
She went in through the box maze. A bell rang faintly, light through the rain, a closing door, silence. I reached a flask out of my car pocket and went downgrade and looked at the car. It was a Packard convertible, maroon or dark brown. The left window was down. I felt for the license holder and poked light at it. |
| 14815 |
As the darkness folded back on it and ate it up a thin tinkling scream echoed out and lost itself among the rain drenched trees. I was out of the car and on my way before the echoes died. There was no fear in the scream. It had a sound of half pleasurable shock, an accent of drunkenness, an overtone of pure idiocy. |
| 14816 |
It made me think of men in white and barred windows and hard narrow cots with leather wrist and ankle straps fastened to them. The Geiger hideaway was perfectly silent again when I hit the gap in the hedge and dodged around the angle that masked the front door. There was an iron ring in a lion's mouth for a knocker. |
| 14817 |
The door fronted on a narrow run, like a footbridge over a gully, that filled the gap between the house wall and the edge of the bank. There was no porch, no solid ground, no way to get around to the back. The back entrance was at the top of a flight of wooden steps that rose from the alley like street below. |
| 14818 |
This was foolish. About the only part of a California house you can't put your foot through is the front door. All it did was hurt my shoulder and make me mad. I climbed over the railing again and kicked the French window in, used my hat for a glove and pulled out most of the lower small pane of glass. |
| 14819 |
There was a black desk with carved gargoyles at the corners and behind it a yellow satin cushion on a polished black chair with carved arms and back. The room contained an odd assortment of odors, of which the most emphatic at the moment seemed to be the pungent aftermath of cordite and the sickish aroma of ether. |
| 14820 |
She was sitting very straight, with her hands on the arms of the chair, her knees close together, her body stiffly erect in the pose of an Egyptian goddess, her chin level, her small bright teeth shining between her parted lips. Her eyes were wide open. The dark slate color of the iris had devoured the pupil. |
| 14821 |
They were mad eyes. She seemed to be unconscious, but she didn't have the pose of unconsciousness. She looked as if, in her mind, she was doing something very important and making a fine job of it. Out of her mouth came a tinny chuckling noise which didn't change her expression or even move her lips. |
| 14822 |
She wasn't wearing anything else. She had a beautiful body, small, lithe, compact, firm, rounded. Her skin in the lamplight had the shimmering luster of a pearl. Her legs didn't quite have the raffish grace of Mrs. Regan's legs, but they were very nice. I looked her over without either embarrassment or ruttishness. |
| 14823 |
He was on his back on the floor, beyond the fringe of the Chinese rug, in front of a thing that looked like a totem pole. It had a profile like an eagle and its wide round eye was a camera lens. The lens was aimed at the naked girl in the chair. There was a blackened flash bulb clipped to the side of the totem pole. |
| 14824 |
The flash bulb was the sheet lightning I had seen. The crazy scream was the doped and naked girl's reaction to it. The three shots had been somebody else's idea of how the proceedings might be given a new twist. The idea of the lad who had gone down the back steps and slammed into a car and raced away. |
| 14825 |
I took the stopper out and sniffed at it. It smelled of ether and something else, possibly laudanum. I had never tried the mixtare but it seemed to go pretty well with the Geiger menage. I listened to the rain hitting the roof and the north windows. Beyond was no other sound, no cars, no siren, just the rain beating. |
| 14826 |
I thought I might be able to handle it. I decided to pass up her underclothes, not from feelings of delicacy, but because I couldn't see myself putting her pants on and snapping her brassiere. I took the dress over to the teak chair on the dais. Miss Sternwood smelled of ether also, at a distance of several feet. |
| 14827 |
They didn't bring her out of it. I set to work with the dress. She didn't mind that either. She let me hold her arms up and she spread her fingers out wide, as if that was cute. I got her hands through the sleeves, pulled the dress down over her back, and stood her up. She fell into my arms giggling. |
| 14828 |
I had her look at him. She thought he was cute. She giggled and tried to tell me so, but she just bubbled. I walked her over to the divan and spread her out on it. She hiccuped twice, giggled a little and went to sleep. I stuffed her belongings into my pockets and went over behind the totem pole thing. |
| 14829 |
It was neat, fussy, womanish. The bed had a flounced cover. There was perfume on the triple mirrored dressing table, beside a handkerchief, some loose money, a man's brushes, a keyholder. A man's clothes were in the closet and a man's slippers under the flounced edge of the bed cover. Mr. Geiger's room. |
| 14830 |
I took the keyholder back to the living room and went through the desk. There was a locked steel box in the deep drawer. I used one of the keys on it. There was nothing in it but a blue leather book with an index and a lot of writing in code, in the same slanting printing that had written to General Sternwood. |
| 14831 |
I was as wet as I could get already. And on a night like that you can grow a beard waiting for a taxi. And taxi drivers remember. I made it back to Geiger's house in something over half an hour of nimble walking. There was nobody there, no car on the street except my own car in front of the next house. |
| 14832 |
I hadn't counted them, but the spaces of brown plaster stood out naked and obvious. I went a little farther and put another lamp on. I looked at the totem pole. At its foot, beyond the margin of the Chinese rug, on the bare floor another rug had been spread. It hadn't been there before. Geiger's body had. |
| 14833 |
Geiger's body was gone. That froze me. I pulled my lips back against my teeth and leered at the glass eye in the totem pole. I went through the house again. Everything was exactly as it had been. Geiger wasn't in his flounced bed or under it or in his closet. He wasn't in the kitchen or the bathroom. |
| 14834 |
It was interesting because it was so different from Geiger's room. It was a hard bare masculine bedroom with a polished wood floor, a couple of small throw rugs in an Indian design, two straight chairs, a bureau in dark grained wood with a man's toilet set and two black candles in foot high brass candlesticks. |
| 14835 |
The room felt cold. I locked it up again, wiped the knob off with my handkerchief, and went back to the totem pole. I knelt down and squinted along the nap of the rug to the front door. I thought I could see two parallel grooves pointing that way, as though heels had dragged. Whoever had done it had meant business. |
| 14836 |
Dead men are heavier than broken hearts. It wasn't the law. They would have been there still, just about getting warmed up with their pieces of string and chalk and their cameras and dusting powders and their nickel cigars. They would have been very much there. It wasn't the killer. He had left too fast. |
| 14837 |
I couldn't guess the answer, but it was all right with me if somebody wanted Geiger missing instead of just murdered. It gave me a chance to find out if I could tell it leaving Carmen Sternwood out. I locked up again, choked my car to life and rode off home to a shower, dry clothes and a late dinner. |
| 14838 |
He fixed the lock on his door and we went down to the official parking lot and got into a small blue sedan. We drove out Sunset, using the siren once in a while to beat a signal. It was a crisp morning, with just enough snap in the air to make life seem simple and sweet, if you didn't have too much on your mind. |
| 14839 |
A low black barge with a wheelhouse like a tug's was crouched against the pilings at the end of the pier. Something that glistened in the morning sunlight was on its deck, with hoist chains still around it, a large black and chromium car. The arm of the hoist had been swung back into position and lowered to deck level. |
| 14840 |
Ohls said hello to a deputy in green khaki and a man in plain clothes. The barge crew of three men leaned against the front of the wheelhouse and chewed tobacco. One of them was rubbing at his wet hair with a dirty bath towel. That would be the man who had gone down into the water to put the chains on. |
| 14841 |
We looked the car over. The front bumper was bent, one headlight smashed, the other bent up but the glass still unbroken. The radiator shell had a big dent in it, and the paint and nickel were scratched up all over the car. The upholstery was sodden and black. None of the tires seemed to be damaged. |
| 14842 |
The driver was still draped around the steering post with his head at an unnatural angle to his shoulders. He was a slim dark haired kid who had been good looking not so long ago. Now his face was bluish white and his eyes were a faint dull gleam under the lowered lids and his open mouth had sand in it. |
| 14843 |
The broken wood's dry inside. That puts it after the rain stopped. She fell in plenty of water not to be banged up worse, not more than half tide or she'd have drifted farther, and not more than half tide going out or she'd have crowded the piles. That makes it around ten last night. Maybe nine thirty, not earlier. |
| 14844 |
You can read his tread marks all the way nearly. That puts it after the rain like the Sheriff said. Then he hit the pier hard and clean or he don't go through and land right side up. More likely turned over a couple of times. So he had plenty of speed and hit the rail square. That's more than half throttle. |
| 14845 |
He wrestled it around on the highway and drove back towards town along a three lane highway washed clean by the rain, past low rolling hills of yellow white sand terraced with pink moss. Seaward a few gulls wheeled and swooped over something in the surf and far out a white yacht looked as if it was hanging in the sky. |
| 14846 |
All she wanted was to kick a few high ones off the bar and have herself a party. So we let the kid go and then darned if they don't have him come back to work. And a little later we get the routine report on his prints from Washington, and he's got a prior back in Indiana, attempted hold up six years ago. |
| 14847 |
I had a room and a half on the seventh floor at the back. The half room was an office split in two to make reception rooms. Mine had my name on it and nothing else, and that only on the reception room. I always left this unlocked, in case I had a client, and the client cared to sit down and wait. I had a client. |
| 14848 |
We went into the rest of my suite, which contained a rust red carpet, not very young, five green filing cases, three of them full of California climate, an advertising calendar showing the Quints rolling around on a sky blue floor, in pink dresses, with seal brown hair and sharp black eyes as large as mammoth prunes. |
| 14849 |
We said good by and I left the office, bought all three afternoon papers and rode a taxi down to the Hall of Justice to get my car out of the lot. There was nothing in any of the papers about Geiger. I took another look at his blue notebook, but the code was just as stubborn as it had been the night before. |
| 14850 |
That supposed two things: a key to his car and two in the party. It would narrow the sector of search quite a lot, especially as I had had his personal keys in my pocket when it happened. I didn't get a chance to look at the garage. The doors were shut and padlocked and something moved behind the hedge as I drew level. |
| 14851 |
In the daylight it seemed an exposed and dangerous thing to do. I went in through the hedge. She stood there straight and silent against the locked front door. One hand went slowly up to her teeth and her teeth bit at her funny thumb. There were purple smears under her eyes and her face was gnawed white by nerves. |
| 14852 |
The girl and I stood looking at each other. She tried to keep a cute little smile on her face but her face was too tired to be bothered. It kept going blank on her. The smile would wash off like water off sand and her pale skin had a harsh granular texture under the stunned and stupid blankness of her eyes. |
| 14853 |
They made me sick. I rolled a cigarette in my fingers and pushed some books out of the way and sat on the end of the black desk. I lit my cigarette, puffed a plume of smoke and watched the thumb and tooth act for a while in silence. Carmen stood in front of me, like a bad girl in the principal's office. |
| 14854 |
He had a long chin, a nose with a hook to it, thoughtful gray eyes that had a slanted look because the fold of skin over his upper lid came down over the corner of the lid itself. He stood there politely, one hand touching the door at his back, the other holding the gray hat and flapping it gently against his thigh. |
| 14855 |
He looked hard, not the hardness of the tough guy. More like the hardness of a well weathered horseman. But he was no horseman. He was Eddie Mars. He pushed the door shut behind him and put that hand in the lap seamed pocket of his coat and left the thumb outside to glisten in the rather dim light of the room. |
| 14856 |
He was walking around the room, frowning, not paying any attention to me. I looked out above the broken pane of the front window. The top of a car showed over the hedge. Its motor idled. Eddie Mars found the purple flagon and the two gold veined glasses on the desk. He sniffed at one of the glasses, then at the flagon. |
| 14857 |
He looked at a couple of books, grunted, went on around the desk and stood in front of the little totem pole with the camera eye. He studied it, dropped his glance to the floor in front of it. He moved the small rug with his foot, then bent swiftly, his body tense. He went down on the floor with one gray knee. |
| 14858 |
I happen to own this house. I'm not so crazy about that right now. I can believe that whatever you know about all this is under glass, or there would be a flock of johns squeaking sole leather around this dump. You haven't got anything to sell. My guess is you need a little protection yourself. So cough up. |
| 14859 |
His eyes had followed me, but his lean gray body had not moved. There was hate in his eyes. I went out and through the hedge and up the hill to my car and got into it. I turned it around and drove up over the crest. Nobody shot at me. After a few blocks I turned off, cut the motor and sat for a few moments. |
| 14860 |
I went past him into the room. It was a cheerful room with good furniture and not too much of it. French windows in the end wall opened on a stone porch and looked across the dusk at the foothills. Near the windows a closed door in the west wall and near the entrance door another door in the same wall. |
| 14861 |
This last had a plush curtain drawn across it on a thin brass rod below the lintel. That left the east wail, in which there were no doors. There was a davenport backed against the middle of it, so I sat down on the davenport. Brody shut the door and walked crab fashion to a tall oak desk studded with square nails. |
| 14862 |
If it's a good active list and you could run it even fifty per cent down the line, that would be one hundred and twenty five thousand rentals. Your girl friend knows an about that. I'm only guessing. Put the average rental as low as you like, but it won't be less than a dollar. That merchandise costs money. |
| 14863 |
Either you didn't notice that, which seems unlikely, or you got the wind up and lammed. But you had nerve enough to take the plate out of his camera and you had nerve enough to come back later on and hide his corpse, so you could tidy up on the books before the law knew it had a murder to investigate. |
| 14864 |
Brody put his hand in his pocket, on his gun, and walked over to the door and opened it with his left hand. Carmen Sternwood pushed him back into the room by putting a little revolver against his lean brown lips. Brady backed away from her with his mouth working and an expression of panic on his face. |
| 14865 |
Carmen shut the door behind her and looked neither at me nor at Agnes. She stalked Brady carefully, her tongue sticking out a little between her teeth. Brody took both hands out of his pockets and gestured placatingly at her. His eyebrows designed themselves into an odd assortment of curves and angles. |
| 14866 |
The blonde was strong with the madness of love or fear, or a mixture of both, or maybe she was just strong. Brody grabbed for the little revolver that was so close to his face. He missed. The gun made a sharp rapping noise that was not very loud. The bullet broke glass in a folded back French window. |
| 14867 |
Brody groaned horribly and fell down on the floor and jerked Carmen's feet from under her. She landed in a heap and the little revolver went skidding off into a corner. Brody jumped up on his knees and reached for his pocket. I bit Agnes on the head with less delicacy than before, kicked her off my feet, and stood up. |
| 14868 |
Blonde Agnes was sitting up on the floor with her hands flat on the carpet and her mouth wide open and a wick of metallic blond hair down over her right eye. Carmen was crawling on her hands and knees, still hissing. The metal of her little revolver glistened against the baseboard over in the corner. |
| 14869 |
Agnes was back on the davenport, straightening her hair. Her eyes ate Carmen with a green distillation of hate. Carmen was up on her feet too, coming towards me with her hand out, still giggling and hissing. There was a little froth at the corners of her mouth. Her small white teeth glinted close to her lips. |
| 14870 |
The blonde Agnes turned her head slowly and stared at me along the same level. Their glances contained almost the exact same blend of foxiness, doubt and frustrated anger. Agnes reached her silvery nails up abruptly and yanked a hair out of her head and broke it between her fingers, with a bitter jerk. |
| 14871 |
His head was wedged against the door. He didn't move. The Colt clung to his right hand. I jumped across the room and rolled him enough to get the door open and crowd through. A woman peered out of a door almost opposite. Her face was full of fright and she pointed along the hall with a clawlike hand. |
| 14872 |
The sound of a muted whistling came to me faintly along the sidewalk. Then steps. I double parked and slid out between two cars and went down low. I took Carmen's little revolver out of my pocket. The sound of the steps grew louder, and the whistling went on cheerfully. In a moment the jerkin showed. |
| 14873 |
He shot at me like a plane from a catapult, reaching for my knees in a diving tackle. I sidestepped and reached for his neck and took it into chancery. He scraped the dirt hard and got his feet under him enough to use his hands on me where it hurt. I twisted him around and heaved him a little higher. |
| 14874 |
We seemed to hang there in the misty moonlight, two grotesque creatures whose feet scraped on the road and whose breath panted with effort. I had my right forearm against his windpipe now and all the strength of both arms in it. His feet began a frenetic shuffle and he wasn't panting any more. He was ironbound. |
| 14875 |
I went to the car and got a pair of handcuffs out of the glove compartment and twisted his wrists behind him and snapped them on. I lifted him by the armpits and managed to drag him in behind the hedge, out of sight from the street. I went back to the car and moved it a hundred feet up the hill and locked it. |
| 14876 |
I opened the door, not locked now, of the bedroom across the hall from it. There was a dim flickering light in the room and a smell of sandalwood. Two cones of incense ash stood side by side on a small brass tray on the bureau. The light came from the two tall black candles in the foot high candlesticks. |
| 14877 |
His broad nose was pinched and white. His eyes were almost closed, but not entirely. The faint glitter of his glass eye caught the light and winked at me. I didn't touch him. I didn't go very near him. He would be as cold as ice and as stiff as a board. The black candles guttered in the draft from the open door. |
| 14878 |
There were two cars in the driveway already, a big private sedan and a police car with a uniformed chauffeur who leaned smoking against his rear fender and admired the moon. Ohls went over and spoke to him and the chauffeur looked in at the boy in Ohls' car. We went up to the house and rang the bell. |
| 14879 |
There were large dim oils on the walls, easy chairs, books, a smell of good cigar smoke which blended with the smell of wet earth and flowers. Taggart Wilde sat behind a desk, a middle aged plump man with clear blue eyes that managed to have a friendly expression without really having any expression at all. |
| 14880 |
Another man sat at the corner of the desk in a blue leather chair, a cold eyed hatchet faced man, as lean as a rake and as hard as the manager of a loan office. His neat well kept face looked as if it had been shaved within the hour. He wore a well pressed brown suit and there was a black pearl in his tie. |
| 14881 |
Two guns that hadn't been fired. Down on the street we got a blonde trying to start a car that didn't belong to her. Hers was right next to it, the same model. She acted rattled so the boys brought her in and she spilled. She was in there when this guy Brody got it. Claims she didn't see the killer. |
| 14882 |
He bent forward to sip from his coffee cup. He took a silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of the dinner jacket he was wearing and touched his lips with it and tucked it away again. "There's a couple more deaths involved," Ohls said, pinching the soft flesh at the end of his chin. Cronjager stiffened visibly. |
| 14883 |
I told the rest of it just as it happened. Cronjager never took his eyes off my face and no expression of any kind crossed his as I talked. At the end of it he was perfectly silent for a long minute. Wilde was silent, sipping his coffee, puffing gently at his dappled cigar. Ohls stared at one of his thumbs. |
| 14884 |
Brody wouldn't have gone into the house after Geiger was shot. The boy must have got home when I was away taking Carmen to her house. He was afraid of the police, of course, being what he is, and he probably thought it a good idea to have the body hidden until he had removed his effects from the house. |
| 14885 |
Then he packed up whatever belongings he had there and took them away. And later on, sometime in the night and before the body stiffened, he had a revulsion of feeling and thought he hadn't treated his dead friend very nicely. So he went back and laid him out on the bed. That's all guessing, of course. |
| 14886 |
Cronjager was using a telephone on the end of the desk. He hung up and sat down as I came in. Wilde looked through the book, wooden faced, closed it and pushed it towards Cronjager. Cronjager opened it, looked at a page or two, shut it quickly. A couple of red spots the size of half dollars showed on his cheekbones. |
| 14887 |
As for the cover up, I've been in police business myself, as you know. They come a dime a dozen in any big city. Cops get very large and emphatic when an outsider tries to hide anything, but they do the same things themselves every other day, to oblige their friends or anybody with a little pull. And I'm not through. |
| 14888 |
I grinned at my own foolishness, went along to the elevator and upstairs to the apartment. I took Carmen's little gun out of my pocket and laughed at it. Then I cleaned it thoroughly, oiled it, wrapped it in a piece of canton flannel and locked it up. I made myself a drink and was drinking it when the phone rang. |
| 14889 |
He studied it with his head on one side, grunted, swung around in his swivel chair and looked out of his window at the barred top floor of the Hall of Justice half a block away. He was a burly man with tired eyes and the slow deliberate movements of a night watchman. His voice was toneless, flat and uninterested. |
| 14890 |
Not the face of a tough guy and not the face of a man who could be pushed around much by anybody. Straight dark brows with strong bone under them. A forehead wide rather than high, a mat of dark clustering hair, a thin short nose, a wide mouth. A chin that had strong lines but was small for the mouth. |
| 14891 |
I get your idea. He pulls the dumb play because he thinks we wouldn't expect him to pull the dumb play. From a police angle that's wrong. Because he'd have us in his hair so much it would interfere with his business. You might think a dumb play would be smart. I might think so. The rank and file wouldn't. |
| 14892 |
Regan had fifteen grand we know of. The girl had some, maybe a lot in rocks. But they'll run out of dough some day. Regan will cash a check, drop a marker, write a letter. They're in a strange town and they've got new names, but they've got the same old appetites. They got to get back in the fiscal system. |
| 14893 |
I went back to the office and sat in my swivel chair and tried to catch up on my foot dangling. There was a gusty wind blowing in at the windows and the soot from the oil burners of the hotel next door was down drafted into the room and rolling across the top of the desk like tumbleweed drifting across a vacant lot. |
| 14894 |
All she would have to do would be to stand on the corner for five minutes and look coy. I hoped that the next grifter who dropped the hook on her would play her a little more smoothly, a little more for the long haul rather than the quick touch. Mrs. Regan knew Eddie Mars well enough to borrow money from him. |
| 14895 |
He was her husband and he had gone off with Eddie Mars' wife. Carol Lundgren, the boy killer with the limited vocabulary, was out of circulation for a long, long time, even if they didn't strap him in a chair over a bucket of acid. They wouldn't, because he would take a plea and save the county money. |
| 14896 |
They seemed a long way off, and not quite of the same world as the building itself. Then the slim pasty faced blond man who had been with Eddie Mars and the pug at Geiger's place came through a door under the staircase, smiled at me bleakly and took me back with him along a carpeted hail to the boss's office. |
| 14897 |
He mixed a couple and put mine down beside a red leather chair and stood crosslegged against the desk himself, one hand in the side pocket of his midnight blue dinner jacket, the thumb outside and the nail glistening. In dinner clothes he looked a little harder than in gray flannel, but he still looked like a horseman. |
| 14898 |
Take the dark one. She's a pain in the neck around here. If she loses, she plunges and I end up with a fistful of paper which nobody will discount at any price. She has no money of her own except an allowance and what's in the old man's will is a secret. If she wins, she takes my money home with her. |
| 14899 |
The gourd player rubbed his finger tips together as if they were sore and got a cigarette into his mouth almost with the same movement. The other four, with a timed simultaneous stoop, reached under their chairs for glasses from which they sipped, smacking their lips and flashing their eyes. Tequila, their manner said. |
| 14900 |
The light was from heavy crystal chandeliers and the rose damask panels of the wall were still the same rose damask, a little faded by time and darkened by dust, that had been matched long ago against the parquetry floor, of which only a small glass smooth space in front of the little Mexican orchestra showed bare. |
| 14901 |
A low bronze railing joined them and made a fence around the croupiers. All three tables were working, but the crowd was at the middle one. I could see Vivian Regan's black head close to it, from across the room where I was leaning against the bar and turning a small glass of bacardi around on the mahogany. |
| 14902 |
I moved through a scattering of people in dinner clothes and full evening dress and sports clothes and business suits to the end table at the left. It had gone dead. Two croupiers stood behind it with their heads together and their eyes sideways. One moved a rake back and forth aimlessly over the empty layout. |
| 14903 |
He opened Eddie Mars' wallet and drew out two flat packets of thousand dollar bills. He broke one, counted six bills out, added them to the unbroken packet, put the four loose bills in the wallet and laid it aside as carelessly as if it had been a packet of matches. Eddie Mars didn't touch the wallet. |
| 14904 |
Then he drew his hands back and folded his arms. Vivian's lips parted slowly until her teeth caught the light and glittered like knives. The ball drifted lazily down the slope of the wheel and bounced on the chromium ridges above the numbers. After a long time and then very suddenly motion left it with a dry click. |
| 14905 |
The croupier lifted his rake and slowly pushed the stack of thousand dollar bills across the layout, added them to the stake, pushed everything slowly out of the field of play. Eddie Mars smiled, put his wallet back in his pocket, turned on his heel and left the room through the door in the paneling. |
| 14906 |
We passed under the ancient sputtering arc lights and after a while there was a town, buildings, dead looking stores, a service station with a light over a nightbell, and at last a drugstore that was still open. "You better have a drink," I said. She moved her chin, a point of paleness in the corner of the seat. |
| 14907 |
The clerk still didn't like me. We drove away from Las Olindas through a series of little dank beach towns with shack like houses built down on the sand close to the rumble of the surf and larger houses built back on the slopes behind. A yellow window shone here and there, but most of the houses were dark. |
| 14908 |
A smell of kelp came in off the water and lay on the fog. The tires sang on the moist concrete of the boulevard. The world was a wet emptiness. We were close to Del Rey before she spoke to me for the first time since we left the drugstore. Her voice had a muffled sound, as if something was throbbing deep under it. |
| 14909 |
That way the fog was almost gone. The road crossed the tracks where they turned to run under the bluff, then reached a paved strip of waterfront highway that bordered an open and uncluttered beach. Cars were parked along the sidewalk, facing out to sea, dark. The lights of the beach club were a few hundred yards away. |
| 14910 |
Under the thinning fog the surf curled and creamed, almost without sound, like a thought trying to form itself on the edge of consciousness. "Move closer," she said almost thickly. I moved out from under the wheel into the middle of the seat. She turned her body a little away from me as if to peer out of the window. |
| 14911 |
She hardly moved all the way back. I drove through the gates and up the sunken driveway to the porte cochere of the big house. She jerked the car door open and was out of it before it had quite stopped. She didn't speak even then. I watched her back as she stood against the door after ringing the bell. |
| 14912 |
The apartment house lobby was empty this time. No gunman waiting under the potted palm to give me orders. I took the automatic elevator up to my floor and walked along the hallway to the tune of a muted radio behind a door. I needed a drink and was in a hurry to get one. I didn't switch the light on inside the door. |
| 14913 |
The scent on the air was a perfume, a heavy cloying perfume. There was no sound, no sound at all. Then my eyes adjusted themselves more to the darkness and I saw there was something across the floor in front of me that shouldn't have been there. I backed, reached the wall switch with my thumb and flicked the light on. |
| 14914 |
Something in it giggled. A blonde head was pressed into my pillow. Two bare arms curved up and the hands belonging to them were clasped on top of the blond head. Carmen Sternwood on her back, in my bed, giggling at me. The tawny wave of her hair was spread out on the pillow as if by careful and artificial hand. |
| 14915 |
I didn't have anything really exciting to drink, like nitroglycerin or distilled tiger's breath. She hadn't moved when I got back with the glasses. The hissing had stopped. Her eyes were dead again. Her lips started to smile at me. Then she sat up suddenly and threw all the covers off her body and reached. |
| 14916 |
It startled me into looking at her again. She sat there naked, propped on her hands, her mouth open a little, her face like scraped bone. The hissing noise came tearing out of her mouth as if she had nothing to do with it. There was something behind her eyes, blank as they were, that I had never seen in a woman's eyes. |
| 14917 |
She stood there for a moment and hissed at me, her face still like scraped bone, her eyes still empty and yet full of some jungle emotion. Then she walked quickly to the door and opened it and went out, without speaking, without looking back. I heard the elevator lurch into motion and move in the shaft. |
| 14918 |
I walked to the windows and pulled the shades up and opened the windows wide. The night air came drifting in with a kind of stale sweetness that still remembered automobile exhausts and the streets of the city. I reached for my drink and drank it slowly. The apartment house door closed itself down below me. |
| 14919 |
I got up feeling sluggish and tired and stood looking out of the windows, with a dark, harsh taste of Sternwoods still in my mouth. I was as empty of life as a scarecrow's pockets. I went out to the kitchenette and drank two cups of black coffee. You can have a hangover from other things than alcohol. |
| 14920 |
I shaved and showered and dressed and got my raincoat out and went downstairs and looked out of the front door. Across the street, a hundred feet up, a gray Plymouth sedan was parked. It was the same one that had tried to trail me around the day before, the same one that I had asked Eddie Mars about. |
| 14921 |
There might be a cop in it, if a cop had that much time on his hands and wanted to waste it following me around. Or it might be a smoothie in the detective business trying to get a noseful of somebody else's case in order to chisel a way into it. Or it might be the Bishop of Bermuda disapproving of my night life. |
| 14922 |
Nobody got out of it. I reached it and jerked open the door on the curb side. A small bright eyed man was pressed back into the corner behind the wheel I stood and looked in at him, the rain thumping my back. His eyes blinked behind the swirling smoke of a cigarette. His hands tapped restlessly on the thin wheel. |
| 14923 |
Maybe you can't control it. Have it your own way. I'm now going to eat breakfast in the coffee shop across the street, orange juice, bacon and eggs, toast, honey, three or four cups of coffee and a toothpick. I am then going up to my office, which is on the seventh floor of the building right opposite you. |
| 14924 |
He was a very small man, not more than five feet three and would hardly weigh as much as a butcher's thumb. He had tight brilliant eyes that wanted to look hard, and looked as hard as oysters on the half shell. He wore a double breasted dark gray suit that was too wide in the shoulders and had too much lapel. |
| 14925 |
Then she changed her name to Mars. Rusty got sore and married a rich dame that hung around the joints like she couldn't sleep well at home. You know all about her, tall, dark, enough looks for a Derby winner, but the type would put a lot of pressure on a guy. High strung. Rusty wouldn't get along with her. |
| 14926 |
A traffic cop in shining black rubber from boots to cap sloshed through the flood on his way from the shelter of a sodden awning. My rubber heels slithered on the sidewalk as I turned into the narrow lobby of the Fulwider Building. A single drop light burned far back, beyond an open, once gilt elevator. |
| 14927 |
A building in which the smell of stale cigar butts would be the cleanest odor. An old man dozed in the elevator, on a ramshackle stool, with a burstout cushion under him. His mouth was open, his veined temples glistened in the weak light. He wore a blue uniform coat that fitted him the way a stall fits a horse. |
| 14928 |
The fire stairs hadn't been swept in a month. Bums had slept on them, eaten on them, left crusts and fragments of greasy newspaper, matches, a gutted imitation leather pocketbook. In a shadowy angle against the scribbled wall a pouched ring of pale rubber had fallen and had not been disturbed. A very nice building. |
| 14929 |
I tried it cautiously. It was locked. It moved in a loose frame, an old door fitted many years past, made of half seasoned wood and shrunken now. I reached my wallet out and slipped the thick hard window of celluloid from over my driver's license. A burglar's tool the law had forgotten to proscribe. |
| 14930 |
I put my gloves on, leaned softly and lovingly against the door and pushed the knob hard away from the frame. I pushed the celluloid plate into the wide crack and felt for the slope of the spring lock. There was a dry click, like a small icicle breaking. I hung there motionless, like a lazy fish in the water. |
| 14931 |
Nothing happened inside. I turned the knob and pushed the door back into darkness. I shut it behind me as carefully as I had opened it. The lighted oblong of an uncurtained window faced me, cut by the angle of a desk. On the desk a hooded typewriter took form, then the metal knob of a communicating door. |
| 14932 |
Under its noise I crossed the room. A tight fan of light spread from an inch opening of the door into the lighted office. Everything very convenient. I walked like a cat on a mantel and reached the hinged side of the door, put an eye to the crack and saw nothing but light against the angle of the wood. |
| 14933 |
The steps faded, leisurely and assured. I stirred around the edge of the door and pulled it wide and looked into blackness relieved by the dim shine of a window. The corner of a desk glittered faintly. A hunched shape took form in a chair behind it. In the close air there was a heavy clogged smell, almost a perfume. |
| 14934 |
I went across to the corridor door and listened. I heard the distant clang of the elevator. I found the light switch and light glowed in a dusty glass bowl hanging from the ceiling by three brass chains. Harry Jones looked at me across the desk, his eyes wide open, his face frozen in a tight spasm, the skin bluish. |
| 14935 |
His small dark head was tilted to one side. He sat upright against the back of the chair. A street car bell clanged at an almost infinite distance and the sound came buffeted by innumerable walls. A brown half pint of whiskey stood on the desk with the cap off. Harry Jones' glass glinted against a castor of the desk. |
| 14936 |
Mr. Canino might be back. Mr. Canino would be the kind of self confident gentleman who would not mind returning to the scene of his crime. I put the light out and started to open the door. The phone bell rang jarringly down on the baseboard. I listened to it, my jaw muscles drawn into a knot, aching. |
| 14937 |
The little dead man sat silent in his chair, beyond fear, beyond change. I left the office. Nothing moved in the dingy corridor. No pebbled glass door had light behind it. I went down the fire stairs to the second floor and from there looked down at the lighted roof of the elevator cage. I pressed the button. |
| 14938 |
He was good at that. Canino, the watchdog, was taking her out for air. A mile or so east of Realito a road turns towards the foothills. That's orange country to the south but to the north it's as bare as hell's back yard and smack up against the hills there's a cyanide plant where they make the stuff for fumigation. |
| 14939 |
Just off the highway there's a small garage and paintshop run by a gee named Art Huck. Hot car drop, likely. There's a frame house beyond this, and beyond the house nothing but the foothills and the bare stone outcrop and the cyanide plant a couple of miles on. That's the place where she's holed up. |
| 14940 |
But not even the drenched darkness could hide the flawless lines of the orange trees wheeling away like endless spokes into the night. Cars passed with a tearing hiss and a wave of dirty spray. The highway jerked through a little town that was all packing houses and sheds, and railway sidings nuzzling them. |
| 14941 |
My right front tire let go with an angry hiss. Before I could stop the right rear went with it. I jammed the car to a stop, half on the pavement, half on the shoulder, got out and flashed a spotlight around. I had two flats and one spare. The flat butt of a heavy galvanized tack stared at me from the front tire. |
| 14942 |
I tucked my chin down in my collar and started towards it, then went back to unstrap the license holder from the steering post and put it in my pocket. I leaned lower under the wheel. Behind a weighted flap, directly under my right leg as I sat in the car, there was a hidden compartment. There were two guns in it. |
| 14943 |
The garage doors were shut, but there was an edge of light under them and a thread of light where the halves met. I went on past. The frame house was there, light in two front windows, shades down. It was set well back from the road, behind a thin clump of trees. A car stood on the gravel drive in front. |
| 14944 |
I trudged back to the garage and banged on the wooden door with the butt of my flash. There was a hung instant of silence, as heavy as thunder. The light inside went out. I stood there grinning and licking the rain off my lip. I clicked the spot on the middle of the doors. I grinned at the circle of white. |
| 14945 |
He tucked his gun through a flap in his clothes and bit a knuckle, staring at me moodily over it. The smell of the pyroxylin paint was as sickening as ether. Over in the corner, under a drop light, there was a big new looking sedan with a paint gun lying on its fender. I looked at the man by the workbench now. |
| 14946 |
He didn't speak. Art rocked as if a gust of wind had hit him. He stamped over to the corner and put a rubber coat over his coveralls, a sou'wester on his head. He grabbed a socket wrench and a hand jack and wheeled a dolly jack over to the doors. He went out silently, leaving the door yawning. The rain blustered in. |
| 14947 |
The man in brown strolled over and shut it and strolled back to the workbench and put his hips exactly where they had been before. I could have taken him then. We were alone. He didn't know who I was. He looked at me lightly and threw his cigarette on the cement floor and stamped on it without looking down. |
| 14948 |
Feet crunched outside and the door was pushed open. The light hit pencils of rain and made silver wires of them. Art trundled two muddy flats in sullenly, kicked the door shut, let one of the flats fall over on its side. He looked at me savagely. "You sure pick spots for a jack to stand on," he snarled. |
| 14949 |
He heaved one tire up on a spreader and tore the rim loose viciously. He had the tube out and cold patched in nothing flat. Still scowling, he strode over to the wall beside me and grabbed an air hose, put enough air into the tube to give it body and let the nozzle of the air hose smack against the whitewashed wall. |
| 14950 |
The teamwork must have been very nice. I saw no signal, no glance of meaning, no gesture that might have a special import. The gaunt man had the stiffened tube high in the air, staring at it. He half turned his body, took one long quick step, and slammed it down over my head and shoulders, a perfect ringer. |
| 14951 |
The brown man came almost dancing towards me across the floor. His hand tightened over the roll of nickels. He came up to me without sound, without expression. I bent forward and tried to heave Art off his feet. The fist with the weighted tube inside it went through my spread hands like a stone through a cloud of dust. |
| 14952 |
She was so platinumed that her hair shone like a silver fruit bowl. She wore a green knitted dress with a broad white collar turned over it. There was a sharp angled glossy bag at her feet. She was smoking and a glass of amber fluid was tall and pale at her elbow. I moved my head a little, carefully. |
| 14953 |
Bubbles rose in it like false hopes. She bent over me. Her breath was as delicate as the eyes of a fawn. I gulped from the glass. She took it away from my mouth and watched some of the liquid run down my neck. She bent over me again. Blood began to move around in me, like a prospective tenant looking over a house. |
| 14954 |
Her breath made a harsh quick sound. I looked around the room. Two doors, both in the same wall, one half open. A carpet of red and tan squares, blue curtains at the windows, a wallpaper with bright green pine trees on it. The furniture looked as if it had come from one of those places that advertise on bus benches. |
| 14955 |
You think he's just a gambler. I think he's a pornographer, a blackmailer, a hot car broker, a killer by remote control, and a suborner of crooked cops. He's whatever looks good to him, whatever has the cabbage pinned to it. Don't try to sell me on any high souled racketeers. They don't come in that pattern. |
| 14956 |
She loved Eddie Mars and she was hiding to protect him. So he would find her there when he came back, calm beside the light and the untasted drink, and me tied up on the davenport. He would carry her stuff out to the car and go through the house carefully to make sure nothing incriminating was left. |
| 14957 |
The tearing noise of their tires died swiftly. I found my convertible where I had left it, both tires fixed and mounted, so it could be driven away, if necessary. They thought of everything. I got into it and leaned down sideways under the wheel and fumbled aside the flap of leather that covered the pocket. |
| 14958 |
I got the other gun, stuffed it up under my coat and started back. The world was small, shut in, black. A private world for Canino and me. Halfway there the headlights nearly caught me. They turned swiftly off the highway and I slid down the bank into the wet ditch and flopped there breathing water. |
| 14959 |
I came back to the soggy grass plot and sloshed across it. The car was between me and the house, the gun was down at my side, pulled as far around as I could get it, without pulling my left arm out by the roots. The car was dark, empty, warm. Water gurgled pleasantly in the radiator. I peered in at the door. |
| 14960 |
The keys hung on the dash. Canino was very sure of himself. I went around the car and walked carefully across the gravel to the window and listened. I couldn't hear any voices, any sound but the swift bong bong of the raindrops hitting the metal elbows at the bottom of the rain gutters. I kept on listening. |
| 14961 |
It was a feeble effort. Very little of it reached the glass above the screen, but the loose rattle of that little was like a dam bursting. I ran back to the car and got on the running board behind it. The house had already gone dark. That was all. I dropped quietly on the running board and waited. No soap. |
| 14962 |
Canino was too cagey. I straightened up and got into the car backwards, fumbled around for the ignition key and turned it. I reached with my foot, but the starter button had to be on the dash. I found it at last, pulled it and the starter ground. The warm motor caught at once. It purred softly, contentedly. |
| 14963 |
A darkened window slid down inch by inch, only some shifting of light on the glass showing it moved. Flame spouted from it abruptly, the blended roar of three swift shots. Glass starred in the coupe. I yelled with agony. The yell went off into a wailing groan. The groan became a wet gurgle, choked with blood. |
| 14964 |
I let the gurgle die sickeningly, one choked gasp. It was nice work. I liked it. Canino liked it very much. I heard him laugh. It was a large booming laugh, not at all like the purr of his speaking voice. Then silence for a little while, except for the rain and the quietly throbbing motor of the car. |
| 14965 |
But the motor went quietly on. He was low down, crouched against the gloom, his face a grayness without form that seemed to come back slowly after the glare of the shots If it was a revolver he had, it might be empty. It might not. He had fired six times, but he might have reloaded inside the house. |
| 14966 |
The gun jumped out of his hand as if it had been kicked. He reached both his hands for his stomach. I could hear them smack hard against his body. He fell like that, straight forward, holding himself together with his broad hands. He fell face down in the wet gravel. And after that there wasn't a sound from him. |
| 14967 |
I'd like you to believe that. Being a copper I like to see the law win. I'd like to see the flashy well dressed mugs like Eddie Mars spoiling their manicures in the rock quarry at Folsom, alongside of the poor little slum bred hard guys that got knocked over on their first caper and never had a break since. |
| 14968 |
I lay down on the bed with my coat off and stared at the ceiling and listened to the traffic sounds on the street outside and watched the sun move slowly across a corner of the ceiling. I tried to go to sleep, but sleep didn't come. I got up and took a drink, although it was the wrong time of day, and lay down again. |
| 14969 |
I was in Wilde's study and he was behind his desk in a flowered dressing gown and a tight hard face and a dappled cigar moved in his fingers and up to the bitter smile on his lips. Ohls was there and a slim gray scholarly man from the Sheriff's office who looked and talked more like a professor of economics than a cop. |
| 14970 |
I was driving again, with one of them beside me, to the Fulwider Building. We were there in the room where Harry Jones was still in the chair behind the desk, the twisted stiffness of his dead face and the soursweet smell in the room. There was a medical examiner, very young and husky, with red bristles on his neck. |
| 14971 |
I got to the Sternwood place in twenty minutes and drove up under the arch at the side door. It was eleven fifteen. The birds in the ornamental trees were crazy with song after the rain, the terraced lawns were as green as the Irish flag, and the whole estate looked as though it had been made about ten minutes before. |
| 14972 |
I was the one who felt the weight of the years. We went up the tiled staircase and turned the opposite way from Vivian's room. With each step the house seemed to grow larger and more silent. We reached a massive old door that looked as if it had come out of a church. Norris opened it softly and looked in. |
| 14973 |
Consequently the police must know something about it. If they did, the Missing Persons Bureau would be the department that would have the case. I didn't know whether you had reported it, of course, or somebody else, or whether they had found the car through somebody reporting it abandoned in a garage. |
| 14974 |
What convinced me was something in Mr. Wilde's manner the night we had the conference over at his house about Geiger and so on. We were alone for a minute and he asked me whether you had told me you were looking for Regan. I said you had told me you wished you knew where he was and that he was all right. |
| 14975 |
This one is a very smart cagey guy who tries, with a lot of success at first, to give the impression he's a middle aged hack fed up with his job. The game I play is not spillikins. There's always a large element of bluff connected with it. Whatever I might say to a cop, he would be apt to discount it. |
| 14976 |
I don't expect to go over ground the police have covered and pick up a broken pen point and build a case from it. If you think there is anybody in the detective business making a living doing that sort of thing, you don't know much about cops. It's not things like that they overlook, if they overlook anything. |
| 14977 |
If there was, you would pay him. If not, you would ignore him and wait for his next move. But there was something putting a pressure on you. Regan. You were afraid he was not what he had appeared to be, that he had stayed around and been nice to you just long enough to find out how to play games with your bank account. |
| 14978 |
A man has a right to live his own life. I don't blame him for walking out on my daughter, nor even for going so abruptly. It was probably a sudden impulse. I want to know that he is all right wherever he is. I want to know it from him directly, and if he should happen to need money, I should want him to have that also. |
| 14979 |
We reached the place she meant in about ten minutes. "In there." She leaned out of the window and pointed. It was a narrow dirt road, not much more than a track, like the entrance to some foothill ranch. A wide five barred gate was folded back against a stump and looked as if it hadn't been shut in years. |
| 14980 |
The rain had been too hard and too recent. I followed the ruts along and the noise of city traffic grew curiously and quickly faint, as if this were not in the city at all, but far away in a daydream land. Then the oil stained, motionless walkingbeam of a squat wooden derrick stuck up over a branch. |
| 14981 |
I could see the rusty old steel cable that connected this walking beam with a half a dozen others. The beams didn't move, probably hadn't moved for a year. The wells were no longer pumping. There was a pile of rusted pipe, a loading platform that sagged at one end, half a dozen empty oil drums lying in a ragged pile. |
| 14982 |
The place was as lonely as a churchyard. Even after the rain the tall eucalyptus trees still looked dusty. They always look dusty. A branch broken off by the wind had fallen over the edge of the sump and the flat leathery leaves dangled in the water. I walked around the sump and looked into the pumphouse. |
| 14983 |
I went back around the sump and set the can up in the middle of the bull wheel. It made a swell target. If she missed the can, which she was certain to do, she would probably hit the wheel. That would stop a small slug completely. However, she wasn't going to hit even that. I went back towards her around the sump. |
| 14984 |
The gun pointed at my chest. Her hand seemed to be quite steady. The hissing sound grew louder and her face had the scraped bone look. Aged, deteriorated, become animal, and not a nice animal. I laughed at her. I started to walk towards her. I saw her small finger tighten on the trigger and grow white at the tip. |
| 14985 |
I lifted her up and got her into the car, then went back for the gun and dropped it into my pocket. I climbed in under the wheel, backed the car and drove back the way we had come along the rutted road, out of the gateway, back up the hill and so home. Carmen lay crumpled in the corner of the car, without motion. |
| 14986 |
A screen star's boudoir, a place of charm and seduction, artificial as a wooden leg. It was empty at the moment. The door closed behind me with the unnatural softness of a hospital door. A breakfast table on wheels stood by the chaise longue. Its silver glittered. There were cigarette ashes in the coffee cup. |
| 14987 |
It seemed a long time before the door opened again and Vivian came in. She was in oyster white lounging pajamas trimmed with white fur, cut as flowingly as a summer sea frothing on the beach of some small and exclusive island. She went past me in long smooth strides and sat down on the edge of the chaise longue. |
| 14988 |
But that sounds a little silly taken merely as an attempt to divert suspicion that Eddie had killed your husband or had him killed. It isn't so silly, really. He had another motive. He was playing for a million or so. He knew where Regan had gone and why and he didn't want the police to have to find out. |
| 14989 |
The Sternwood blood had to be good for something more than her black eyes and her recklessness. I stood up and took the smoking cigarette from between her fingers and killed it in an ashtray. Then I took Carmen's little gun out of my pocket and laid it carefully, with exaggerated care, on her white satin knee. |
| 14990 |
It made her, for a brief instant, look like a frightened child. The lines of her cheeks sharpened and her hand went up slowly like an artificial hand worked by wires and its fingers closed slowly and stiffly around the white fur at her collar. They drew the fur tight against her throat. After that she just sat staring. |
| 14991 |
All right. I don't care anything about that. I've been called that by people of all sizes and shapes, including your little sister. She called me worse than that for not getting into bed with her. I got five hundred dollars from your father, which I didn't ask for, but he can afford to give it to me. |
| 14992 |
The drapes lay in heavy ivory folds beside her feet. She stood among the folds and looked out, towards the quiet darkish foothills. She stood motionless, almost blending into the drapes. Her hands hung loose at her sides. Utterly motionless hands. She turned and came back along the room and walked past me blindly. |
| 14993 |
I got into my car and drove off down the hill. What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that. Oil and water were the same as wind and air to you. |
| 14994 |
The profit margin was normally one hundred per cent and the business was totally risk free; it was cash on the barrel and the actual blockade running was done by the Americans themselves. It was said that there was so much booze stacked at West End on Grand Bahama that the island tipped by several degrees. |
| 14995 |
Politics and economics walk, hand in hand, largely revolving around the question of who gets what, and the black Bahamians saw the wealth created by the tourist industry going into the pockets of the white Bay Street Boys who also controlled the House of Assembly and ran the country in the interest of the whites. |
| 14996 |
I suppose I could have been pictured as a very lucky man not worrying where my next dollar was coming from, happily married to a beautiful wife with two fine children, and with a flourishing business. I was a lucky man, and I thought nothing could go wrong until the events I am about to recount took place. |
| 14997 |
He had not changed much; he was tall, broad shouldered and blond, with a deep tan and gleaming teeth. The Cunninghams seemed to run to film star good looks, those of them I had met. There was nothing about him to indicate he was American, no eccentricity of style which might reasonably be expected of a Texan. |
| 14998 |
We have a place to serve junk food and another for gourmet dining both are equally profitable. We have shops in the lobby; jewellery, clothing, local handicrafts, a news stand and so on. So far those have been concessions, but now we're tending to operate them ourselves; I've just started a merchandising division. |
| 14999 |
Anyway, she fell into the habit of going to the house and using the pool, and she and the children became friends in jig time. Debbie would pick up the kids from school and take them home and then stay on to lunch with Julie. Julie must have liked her because she put off her trip to Florida until Billy came back. |
| 15000 |
As for me, I was damned busy. I rousted Jamieson, the chief accountant, who fairly set the computer smoking as we figured the net worth of the company as at the end of that month. I wanted to have all my ammunition ready and dry for Billy when he came back because I had the notion he would be ready to talk turkey. |
| 15001 |
I know you've picked up your facts and statistics and so on, but you don't know the score you don't know the way things get done here. But if you come in with me you begin with a firm base ready for expansion, eager for expansion. And you don't only get me, but you get my staff, all loyal to me personally. |
| 15002 |
Because of recurrent oil crises a demand has arisen for a boat, not particularly fast, but with range and sea keeping qualities, and light on fuel. These boats, no matter who the designer, all look pretty much alike because they were all trying to solve the same problems and inevitably came up with the same results. |
| 15003 |
Looking back I can see that this was worse than a normal death in the family. There was no funeral, no assuaging ceremonial nothing to do. There was the ever present expectation of a telephone call which would magically solve everything and restore my wife and daughter to me and bring back my old friend, Pete Albury. |
| 15004 |
I suppose I was a haunted man. Debbie was very good. At first she sought to cheer me up, but I was impervious so she desisted and contented herself with acting as a barrier between me and the world of the newspapers. And she saw that I ate regularly and did not drink too much or, at least, drink alone. |
| 15005 |
I was in a cold, helpless, miserable rage; wanting to strike out at something but finding nothing to hit no target. The Pascoes were more equable. Nearing the end of their own days I suppose that death was a not unexpected figure lurking over the horizon, something with which they had come to terms on a personal level. |
| 15006 |
Mike was a kindly man and a good man. He had once said that being a doctor made a man a fair jackleg psychologist and he was right about this. I sat for a long time holding the glass and just looking into its brown depths. Then I swallowed the lot in two long gulps. The brandy burned going down and I gasped. |
| 15007 |
Boats are lost at sea for other than criminal reasons; storm damage, fire, explosions, run down, and so on. But if they're taken by piracy and then sunk who's to know the difference? That's our problem; we don't know how many acts of piracy are occurring. All we know is that too many boats are being lost. |
| 15008 |
The coroner had obviously been briefed and knew all the questions he was not supposed to ask, and he guided witnesses skilfully. As I gave my evidence it occurred to me that one of the factors in Perigord's decision to tell me wh at he had was to prevent any awkward questions coming from me at the inquest. |
| 15009 |
It was sad to see the pathetically small coffin being lowered into the sandy earth. Karen cried, so I picked her up and held her close during the brief ceremony. A few last words were said and then it was all over and the crowd drifted away. Debbie left for Houston the next day and I drove her to the airport. |
| 15010 |
Then she was gone and I went back into Freeport to find a photographer. Two days later I had what I wanted. I sat in my office and examined the duplicate negative, the copies of the colour print, and the six glossy black and white blow ups of the pinhead sized area of the negative which was the head of the crewman. |
| 15011 |
The man was youngish I would say under thirty and he appeared to be blond. He had a broadish forehead and narrow chin, and his eyes were deepset and shadowed. One hand was up by his face as though he intended to hide it, and the head was slightly blurred as though it was in motion when the picture was taken. |
| 15012 |
I did not expect them to come up with anything that would surprise me, but what they found would buttress my ideas with the Cunninghams. I flew to Abaco at least once a week to see Karen, even if only to stay an hour. She seemed to have settled down completely and seemed none the worse for her bereavement. |
| 15013 |
Two months later she told me she was pregnant which made both of us very happy. But then things began to go wrong again because people who were coming to the Bahamas on vacation were going home to die. Legionella pneumophila. I learned a lot about that elusive bug with the pseudo Latin name in the next few months. |
| 15014 |
Studies have shown that this deadly little chap can live in water for over a year, so that's how far back it's standard to check. One will get you ten that the bacteria are in the air conditioning cooling tower at the Parkway, but we don't know how long they've been in there. Look, Tom, this is pretty serious. |
| 15015 |
Tony Bosworth told me that any infectious bacteria would probably be escaping in the drift. I chlorinated that water to a fare thee well. I supervised it all myself to make sure it was done properly. It might seem odd that the boss would do it personally but I had to make sure it was done in the right way. |
| 15016 |
I was working very hard, not only protecting against this damned disease which was worrying the hell out of me, but also taking the usual workload of the President of the Theta Corporation, and I did not see why I should have to be drained of my energies at home, too. So the quarrelling became worse. |
| 15017 |
And now it was gone. Analysing the newspaper report it would seem that the firemen never had a chance; the place had gone up in flames like a bonfire almost as though it had been deliberately built to burn easily, and it took eighty two lives with it, most of them tourists and a lot of them children. |
| 15018 |
With the other hand he thrust the end of the boat hook into Kayles's stomach like a spear. I heard the breath explode out of Kayles as I jumped for the sloop. Kayles stood no chance; he lay half in and half out of the cockpit fighting for breath and with Sam holding on to his wrist with grim tenacity. |
| 15019 |
Given five minutes' notice Kayles could pull up the hook and sail for anywhere. But a good seaman is not necessarily a good man; the history of piracy in the Bahamas shows that. I turned and looked at Kayles who was beginning to stir feebly, then switched on the cabin light to get a better look at him. |
| 15020 |
What I was looking for I do not know but I looked anyway, opening lockers and boxes wherever I found them. Kayles's seamanship showed again in the way he had painted on the top of each food can a record of the contents. I found the cans stowed in lockers under the bunks and he had enough to last a long time. |
| 15021 |
If water gets into the bilges labels are washed off cans, and Kayles had made sure that when he opened a can of beef he was not going to find peaches. I opened his first aid box and found it well equipped with all the standard bandages and medications, including two throwaway syringes already loaded with morphine. |
| 15022 |
I thought that if Kayles was in the drug running scene he could very well be an addict and this was his own supply of dope. The notion was reinforced by the finding of an ordinary reuseable hypodermic syringe. I left everything where it was and closed the box. I went back to Sam who was still poring over the charts. |
| 15023 |
It is surprising how much larger a sailing boat looks out of the water than in; one tends to forget that most of a boat is under water. The Customs officers had taken most of the gear out other and it was stacked on the floor of the warehouse and on tables in small heaps, each heap labelled as to where it was found. |
| 15024 |
It was a gruelling interrogation and it hit Sam hard because he blamed himself for everything, knowing that if he had not left the knife on the chart table then Bayliss might still be alive. It was a two hour grilling, occasionally interrupted by a Customs officer who would come in to show Perigord something or other. |
| 15025 |
I don't want to see you until then, but I suppose you will want to come just before the birth. That's all right with me, but I don't want to see you until then. I have not taken Karen with me because I think it would be unfair to take her from her school and her friends and into what is a foreign country. |
| 15026 |
Those guys who were killed weren't ready to die; their financial affairs weren't exactly in order. I hear the Securities and Exchange Commission might start an investigation and that'll cause grief all round. Tom, the name of the Bahamas is coming up too often in headlines and it's beginning to stink. |
| 15027 |
Sometimes I think he's a nut. But look at you from his side of the fence. You're a foreigner who first subverted his daughter into mixing with black kids, then took her away, and now she's back home looking goddamn unhappy. Add all that together and you'll see he's just looking for an excuse to pull out of here. |
| 15028 |
Standing on the apron not very far away was a Lockheed Jet Star in gold with black trim; on the tailfin was the Cunningham monogram. Around it was a collection of airport vehicles like workers around a queen bee. I followed her up the gangway and paused as she stopped inside the door to take my bag. |
| 15029 |
As background there were half a dozen other collateral Cunninghams, most of whom I did not know, ready to take their cue from the powerful tribal bosses. This was the Cunningham clan in full deliberation and, predictably, there was not a woman in sight. Our arrival brought instant silence which did not last long. |
| 15030 |
I had a sudden insight into the workings of the Cunningham Corporation. It operated remarkably like the Kremlin collective leadership. Everybody had a vote but some votes were heavier than others. Every so often the old bulls at the top would do battle over some issue and the weaker would be tossed out. |
| 15031 |
I turned my head and saw a rectangular patch of dim light which, when I propped myself up on one elbow, appeared to be a window. I tossed aside the sheet, swung my legs out of bed, and tentatively stood up. I seemed to be in no immediate danger of falling so I took a step towards the window, and then another. |
| 15032 |
There were noises, though; the chirping of cicadas and the distant, deeper croaking of bullfrogs. There were bars on the window. The breeze which blew through the unglazed window was warm and smelled of damp and rotting vegetation. Even so, I shivered as I made my way back to the bed, and I was glad to lie down again. |
| 15033 |
Against one wall was another table holding a basin and a water jug together with a piece of kitchen soap. And there was a chair with clothing draped over it not mine. And that, apart from the bed and the bedside table, was all. After breakfast I washed, but first looked through the uncurtained window. |
| 15034 |
As I was putting on the jeans I examined the bruise on the outside of my thigh; it was livid and there seemed to be a small pin hole in the middle of it. It did not hurt much so I put on the jeans, then the shirt, and sat on the bed to put on the shoes. And there I was dressed and almost in my right mind. |
| 15035 |
The second was so detailed and elaborate that no one thought it would be the dummy we were being sold. It was a fake all the way through. One thing was certain: the Cunninghams would be incensed beyond measure. To kidnap a Cunningham was bad enough, but to add a double cross was to add insult to injury. |
| 15036 |
There was a frustrating lack of information. I went to the window again and looked out through the bars and again saw nothing but trees. I tested the bars; steel set firmly in concrete, and immoveable. I turned at a metallic noise at the door. The first man to enter held a shotgun pointing at my belly. |
| 15037 |
I thought about it. The man with the shotgun was local, a Texan. He had spoken only a total of five words but the accent was unmistakeable. Robinson was something else Those cultured tones, those rolling cadences, were the product of a fairly long residence in England, and at a fairly high social level. |
| 15038 |
I looked with greater interest at my prison. The walls were of concrete blocks set in hard mortar and whitewashed. There was no ceiling so I could look up into the roof which was pitched steeply and built of rough timbers logs with the bark still on and covered with corrugated iron. The only door was in a gable end. |
| 15039 |
I had no metal to scrape the mortar from between the blocks, not even a belt buckle; and they had carefully not put a knife on the tray with which to spread the butter, just a flat piece of wood. As Robinson had said efficiency. A careful examination of the furniture told me that I was probably in a rural area. |
| 15040 |
The thought that chilled me was that Robinson had made no attempt at disguise. True, his face was not memorable in the normal way, but I would certainly remember it from now on, and so would Debbie. The rationale behind that sent a grue up my spine the only way he could prevent future identification was by killing us. |
| 15041 |
When I had eaten rather less than my fill, but could stomach no more, I walked over to the water pitcher and was about to pour water into the basin to wash my slimy hands when I stopped and looked at it thoughtfully. I did not pour the water but dabbled my hands in the pitcher, then wiped them dry on my jeans. |
| 15042 |
That, plus the weight of the pitcher itself, would be about twenty five pounds. I was beginning to get ideas. I went back to the bed, spread butter on a thick slice of bread, and munched while looking at the pitcher, hoping it would tell me what to do. The first faint tendrils of an idea began to burgeon. |
| 15043 |
That really worried Kayles. He was pretty sure she had taken his photograph, but he couldn't find the camera on your boat. Of course, it was a big boat and he couldn't search every nook and cranny, but it still worried him. So he solved his problem as he thought by sinking your boat, camera and all. |
| 15044 |
He stooped to tie the lace of his shoe, gesturing for Kayles to carry on. He let Kayles get ten feet ahead and then shot him in the back from his kneeling position. He shot again, the two reports coming so closely together that they sounded as one, and Kayles pitched forward violently to lie in a crumpled heap. |
| 15045 |
Kayles had been ripped open and his spine blown out. A pool of blood was soaking into the sandy earth. It had happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that I was numbed. Leroy walked to Kayles's body and stirred it with his foot, then he reloaded the shotgun and walked back the way he had come and so out of sight. |
| 15046 |
The weapon used had been a pie shaped fragment of such a basin as this, broken in the course of the brawl, picked up at random, and used viciously. It had been as sharp as a razor. I next turned my attention to the window curtain, a mere flap of sackcloth. I felt the coarse weave and decided it would serve well. |
| 15047 |
I went back over the time I had spent with Kayles, trying to remember every word and analysing every nuance. I got nowhere at all and began to worry very much about Debbie. I slept a little that night, but not much, and what sleep I had was shot with violent dreams which brought me up wide awake and sweating. |
| 15048 |
An hour later I was ready as much as I could be. Balanced on a tie beam in the roof was the pitcher full of water, held only in place by the spatula with which I had spread my butter. I had greased it liberally so that it would slide away easily at the tug of the string I had made from the sackcloth. |
| 15049 |
I had broken a wedge shaped segment from the basin, exactly like the fortuitous weapon I had seen in that distant courtroom in England. The rim fitted snugly into the palm of my hand and the pointed end projected forward when my arm was by my side. The natural form of use would be an upward and thrusting slash. |
| 15050 |
The psychologists say that time is subjective, which is why watched pots never boil. I now believe them. I do not know whether it would have been better to have had a watch; all I know is that I counted time by the pace of shadows creeping across the floor infinitesimally slowly and by the measured beat of my heart. |
| 15051 |
I would have the shotgun by then and only one man to fight I did not expect trouble from Belle. The only thing which worried me was Leroy's trigger finger; if he was hit on the head very hard there might be a sudden muscular contraction, and I wanted to be out of the way when that shotgun fired. Time went by. |
| 15052 |
From outside Debbie screamed again in a way that raised the hair on my neck, and there was a shout. I opened the door and nearly ran into a man I had not seen before. He looked at me in astonishment and began to raise the pistol in his right hand. I lashed out at him with my home made knife and ripped upwards. |
| 15053 |
And damned funny country it was, loo; nothing like anything I had heard of in Texas. Here were no rolling plains and barren lands but foetid, steaming swamp country, lush with overripe growth, bogs and streams. I had no woodcraft, not for that kind of country, and my pursuers had probably grown up in the place. |
| 15054 |
I had travelled about three miles over the ground, I reckoned, and was probably within two miles of the place where I had been held captive. I fiddled with the shotgun and opened the magazine to find out what I had four full rounds and one fired. I reloaded, pushed one up the spout, and set the safety catch. |
| 15055 |
If I was spotted halfway across I would be an easy target. I ran parallel with it for some way and then came to a wide meadow. There was no help for it so I ran on and, half way over, heard a shout behind me and the flat report of a shot. I turned in the waist high grass and saw two men coming from different angles. |
| 15056 |
I was not in my right mind. I got to the cover of the trees and looked back. There was movement; the two men were coming on and others were emerging on to the meadow. I ejected a spent cartridge and aimed and fired one shot. Again both men dropped into cover but the rest came on so I turned and ran. |
| 15057 |
I was climbing a rise and the pace was too much. I threw myself to the ground beneath a tree, sobbing with the rasping agony of entraining air into my lungs. This was it. One last shot and they would be upon me. I put my hand out to where the shotgun had fallen and then stopped because a foot pinned down my wrist. |
| 15058 |
I was in the chopper which dropped right in the middle. No one shot at us because there was no one there to shoot. All the Ainslee menfolk were absent and only the women and a few kids were left. The children were excited by the sudden invasion but the slatternly women merely looked at us with apathetic eyes. |
| 15059 |
Then the chopper tilted and there was nothing but sky as we slid west towards Houston. Medical science made Debbie's wakening mercifully easy, and when she opened her eyes mine was the first face she saw. She was not fully conscious, lapped in a drug induced peace, but enough so to recognize me and to smile. |
| 15060 |
If Carrasco had been the man in Houston then perhaps he was willing to take the chance of me seeing him because I had seen him for only a few seconds. In those circumstances perhaps he thought a beard and moustache were sufficient disguise. As I switched between alternatives my mind felt like a yo yo. |
| 15061 |
For the next three days nothing happened. Carrasco had no visitors to his room and used his telephone only for room service and for restaurant bookings. Rodriguez bugged his car and his room, and put a tape recorder on the telephone tap so that we had a record of his conversations, but we got little joy out of that. |
| 15062 |
A search of Carrasco's possessions brought nothing; he carried with him just what you would expect of a man on holiday. Debbie wondered audibly about the muscular young black who had been imported into the house to help Luke Bailey, who did not need it, and who was making good time with Addy Williams. |
| 15063 |
You can drink a gallon of water loaded down with this bug and it'll do no harm in the gut. To be infective it must be inhaled into the lungs. At the Parkway the air in the lobby and on the pavement outside was filled with drift from the air conditioner an aerosol loaded with L. pneumophila which was inhaled. |
| 15064 |
The huge drums of the calorifiers were connected by a tangle of pipes coloured red, blue and green, with arrows neatly stencilled to indicate the direction of flow. Tony asked questions and I looked about. The place was spotless and dry. Bethel was explaining something technical to Tony when I broke in. |
| 15065 |
We climbed down on to the roof and walked towards the elevator motor housing, and I kicked something which rolled away and came to a stop with a clink at the edge of a water tank. I stooped and picked it up and found the object that had been sending reflections into my eye. But it was more than that much more. |
| 15066 |
I should not have looked at him but I did, in an involuntary movement. He picked up his key and turned towards me. He certainly recognized me because I saw the fractional change in his expression, and he must have seen the recognition in my eyes because he dropped the key, whirled, and ran for the entrance. |
| 15067 |
When Carrasco made his move to go, Rodriguez went to the public phone to make his call and found that some drunken joker had cut the cord. It had been working earlier because I'd talked to him about a possible boat. He didn't have much time because Carrasco was already outside, in his car, and on the move. |
| 15068 |
It showed Carrasco hopping over the bows of a dory which had its prow dug into a sandy beach. The picture was as sharp as a pin and his features showed up clearly. In the stern of the dory, holding on to the tiller bar of an outboard motor, was another man who was equally sharply delineated. I did not know him. |
| 15069 |
There was no time to explain why because I was busy trying to ram the approaching boat. I pulled on the tiller but the dory went the other way in an evading manoeuvre, and as it flashed past I saw the man at the wheel pointing at me. Something hit the side with a thwack and there was the hiss of escaping air. |
| 15070 |
I peered over the bank and everything was peaceful. A light breeze ruffled the surface of the water and there was no sign of Robinson's dory. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and looked to the left. In the middle distance was a half constructed house, and a man was working on the roof. |
| 15071 |
Again we heard the sound of another outboard motor, this time distinctly louder. Billy was moving his head from side to side to locate the direction. "To the left," he said, and took out his gun. I restarted the engine and pushed over the tiller, and we moved to the left and towards the house in the distance. |
| 15072 |
He took us all by surprise. Deane dropped the handcuffs and broke into a run, with me at his heels. The builders at the house had stopped work and were now all on the roof, a good vantage point to view the morning's unexpected entertainment. The sole exception was the driver of a truck which had just arrived. |
| 15073 |
He had got out, leaving the door open and the engine idling, and was calling to the men on the roof. Robinson clouted him in passing and he staggered back to collide with Deane and they both went down in a tangle of arms and legs. By that time Robinson was in the cab and the engine of the truck roared. |
| 15074 |
Perigord was out before me, and h e did something surprising he threw his swagger stick at Robinson. It flew straight as an arrow and hit Robinson at the nape of the neck and he fell in a tumbled heap in the road. Perigord was about to go to him but jumped back as a big double decker London bus came around the corner. |
| 15075 |
The heat engendered by friction was rapidly becoming unsupportable. On this particular Monday morning a mild enquiry into Gloria's doings over the weekend was wantonly interpreted as meddlesome interference into her private affairs. One thing led to another and I arrived at the office rather frayed at the edges. |
| 15076 |
His social life was minimal and, considered objectively he was just a money making machine and a very effective one. He didn't seem to reason like other men; he would listen to arguments for and against a project, offered by the lawyers and accountants he hired by the regiment, and then he would make a decision. |
| 15077 |
Industrial espionage is a social disease something akin to VD. Nobody minds admitting to protecting against it, but no, one will admit to doing it. I always suspected that Brinton was in it up to his neck as much as any other ruthless financial son of a bitch, and I used the firm's facilities to do a bit of snooping. |
| 15078 |
I was right; he employed a couple of other firms from time to time to do his ferreting. That was all right with me as long as he didn't ask me to do it, but sooner or later he was going to try it on one of our other clients and then he was going to be hammered, twenty five per cent shareholder or not. |
| 15079 |
So far it hadn't happened. I arrived a little early for the meeting and found him in his office high above the City. It wasn't very much bigger than a ballroom and one entire wall was of glass so that he could look over his stamping ground. There wasn't a desk in sight; he employed other men to sit behind desks. |
| 15080 |
She had not paraded her troubles before me; indeed, it had taken quite a bit of my not inconsiderable skill to extract many of the details from her. I hoped she'd be happy in Canada; she was good value. I deliberated about the best way to go to find a taxi and turned in the direction of Kensington High Street. |
| 15081 |
The police came, of course, but they were followed by a man from the Special Branch checking on Billson because of the defence work done at Franklin Engineering. My wife didn't show up but she took the trouble to spend two minutes on the telephone ordering flowers to be sent to the hospital, which surprised me mildly. |
| 15082 |
Gloria and I could go away and perhaps we could paper over some of the cracks in our marriage. I knew that, when a marriage is at breaking point, the fault is rarely solely on one side, and my drive to set up the firm had certainly been a contributing factor. Perhaps I could do something to stick things together again. |
| 15083 |
She embroidered her diatribe with all the shortcomings she could find in me, culled from seven years of married life, and then informed me that her bedfriend hadn't been the first by a long shot, and whose fault was that? In short, she tried to work up the familiar instant Stafford row to the nth degree. |
| 15084 |
It was an uneasy relationship and we were tolerated only because we could take off them some of their work load. If, for example, we saw signs of subversion we tipped them off and were rewarded by being left alone. A strictly confidential relationship, of course; the trades unions would have raised hell had they known. |
| 15085 |
From the air it was a scattering of houses set in a mist of green at the foot of barren hills. Transport from the airstrip was by truck along an asphalted road which led between tall, square pillars which were the entrance to the town. They looked like the decor for a fifth rate B movie about the Foreign Legion. |
| 15086 |
The truck drew up outside the Hotel Tin Hinan where there was a tree shaded courtyard filled with spindly metal tables and chairs at which people sat drinking. From a loudspeaker above the hotel entrance came the nasal wail of an Eastern singer. I went inside into a dusty hall and waited until someone noticed me. |
| 15087 |
It reminded me of my own reaction to Isaacson's treatment of Hoyland. But that had been far away in another world, and seemed a thousand years ago. The country changed from flat gravel plains to low hills, barren of vegetation, and we began to climb. Ahead were mountains, such mountains as I had never seen before. |
| 15088 |
I wondered how they kept them so clean in that dusty wilderness. As they came close Byrne hastily adjusted his own veil so that his face was covered. There were ceremonial greetings and then a slow and casual conversation of which I didn't understand a single word, and I just sat there feeling like a spare part. |
| 15089 |
The walls of the mosque were of stones piled crazily and haphazardly one upon the other. I suppose the highest bit of wall wasn't more than three feet high. At one end was a higher structure, the only roofed bit, not much bigger than a telephone box, though not as high. The roof was supported by stone pillars. |
| 15090 |
But he circled a bit, so say under thirty. That's nothing for a Targui. Anyway, Mokhtar's one of the old school; he learned to shoot with a muzzle loader. With one of those you have to kill with one shot because the gazelle spooks and gets clear away before you can reload. But he likes a breech action repeater better. |
| 15091 |
It's the politeness of the country. If you're in a place and you don't do as everybody does in that place, you could get yourself very dead. Take a Targui and set him in the middle of London. If he didn't know he had to cross the street in a special place, and only when the light is green, he could get killed. |
| 15092 |
He stopped often to take a reciprocal sighting on Assekrem to make sure we were on the right line. As I say, Mokhtar spent more time on the ground than in the truck, and it wasn't too hard for him to keep up. He had a sharp eye for signs of passage, and once he stopped us to indicate tyre marks on a patch of sand. |
| 15093 |
There was still a lingering stench of burning rubber in the air. The window glass had cracked and some of it had melted, and the windscreen was totally opaque so that it was difficult to see inside. Byrne reached out and tugged at the handle of the door on the driver's side and cursed as it came away in his hand. |
| 15094 |
He jerked it open and looked inside, with me looking over his shoulder. The inside was a mess. The upholstery had burned, releasing blackened coil springs, and even the plastic coating of the driving wheel had burnt away, leaving bare metal. But there was no body, either in front or on the rear seats. |
| 15095 |
But that was water under the bridge or, more accurately, vapour through the carburettor. What we had now was an entirely different set of circumstances in which Billson's idiocy didn't figure because, if we found his body it would be because he had been murdered by a man, and the man was possibly called Kissack. |
| 15096 |
There was quite a trail of them going backwards and forwards between a crack in the rock and the stain. I stood up, looked at the Land Rover, took a line on it, and then explored further away. Sure enough ten yards further on there was another stained rock, and a little way along there was another. I turned. |
| 15097 |
I took out the magazine and worked the action to eject the round in the breech, then looked down the barrel into the fire. It was as clean as a whistle and any hardened sergeant would have had to give Mokhtar full marks. He had looked after it well. I reloaded and laid the rifle aside, then checked Billson again. |
| 15098 |
These things are relative. Coming from the green land of England, I would have judged this place to be a howling wilderness. All sand, no soil, and the only vegetation an occasional clump of rank grass and a scattering of thorn trees which, however desirable they may have been to a camel, did nothing for me. |
| 15099 |
Abalessa was about sixty miles from Tamm anrasset and we made it in just about two and a half hours, being helped during the last stretch by the asphalted road from the airstrip to Tarn. That ten mile bit was the only paved road I saw in the whole Sahara and I never found out why it had been put there. |
| 15100 |
The natty tropical suiting the London tailor had foisted on me was showing the strain of desert travel. I gave the jacket an open handed blow and a cloud of dust arose. With those travel stains and my unshaven appearance I probably looked like a tramp; any London bobby would have run me in on sight. |
| 15101 |
In spite of his garrulity at Abalessa, he felt a lot less like talking after passing out while going around the checkpoint, but he was a lot better that evening when we made camp. We now had tents which were carried on a rack on top of the truck, and while Byrne and Mokhtar were erecting them I dressed Billson's wound. |
| 15102 |
I suppose I had not hidden my contempt of him and, naturally enough, he didn't like it. I had penetrated his thick skin and wounded whatever amour propre he had, so he resented me. I noticed that he talked a lot with Byrne during this time and that Byrne appeared to show interest in what he was saying. |
| 15103 |
We arrived back at Byrne's place in the Air the next day, having camped on the way. I was getting to like those nightly camps. The peace was incredible and there was nothing more arduous to think about than the best place to make the fire and the best place to sleep after testing the wind direction. |
| 15104 |
Once in the saddle, the Tuareg saddle with its armchair back and high cross shaped pommel, you put your bare feet on the animal's neck and guide it by rubbing one side or the other. Being on a camel when it rises to its feet is the nearest thing to being in an earthquake and quite alarming until one gets used to it. |
| 15105 |
I was asleep, too. Byrne had brought us some provisions. Millet to be pounded in a mortar and boiled to a thin gruel before having crushed dates added, and flour and salt to make flapjacks. Azelouane went off somewhere and returned with a goat kid which he killed by slitting its throat, so we had fresh meat. |
| 15106 |
Anyway, a few weeks later I heard what happened to it. They were driving along and decided to stop for the night. So they stopped, had something to eat, and went to sleep. But they stopped on fech fech and during the night the truck broke through. The Russians were sleeping underneath it and it killed them both. |
| 15107 |
The man standing there was not a Targui because he wore no veil and his skin was darker, a deep rich brown. He was shorter than the average Targui and not as well dressed. His gandoura was black and his head cloth in ill array. Byrne got out and talked to the man for a few minutes, then came back to the truck. |
| 15108 |
Byrne poked a lighted spill of paper into a hole in the bottom, added a few twigs of acacia and, when the fire had taken hold of those, popped in a handful of pellets of dried camel dung which he had picked up near the tree. They burned fiercely, but with no smell. Within five minutes we had boiling water. |
| 15109 |
It's thrown horizontally from below waist level and it'll stop a horse going at full gallop. It's used for hunting addax and oryx but it'll also chop a man off at the ankles at sixty yards. Bailly didn't know what hit him, but Konti says it damn near took his left foot right off and badly injured his right ankle. |
| 15110 |
But I can never now look upon an expanse of sand without feeling, in imagination, the cruel tug of that damned jerrican on my back. We passed the place where Konti had hamstrung Bailly, crossed the valley and climbed another of the dunes which, in that place, were running from sixty to a hundred feet high. |
| 15111 |
We climbed another dune, feet digging into the sand against insistent pull of the back packs, and sometimes slipping backwards. On the crest I paused for breath and looked around. Byrne had well described an erg as a sea of sand. The Tenere was like a still picture of a storm at sea, the waves frozen in mid heave. |
| 15112 |
Many times during that awful journey I lost control during these descents. The jerrican on my back would seem to push and I would lose my balance and fall headlong. Luckily the sand was soft and cushiony, but not so soft in individual grains that it wasn't also abrasive, and the skin of my hands became tender. |
| 15113 |
But the odd thing was that during this time he didn't complain once. He stolidly climbed and just as stolidly picked himself up when he slipped and fell, and kept up the same speed as the rest of us, which wasn't all that slow with Byrne setting the pace. I was slowly coming to a conclusion about Paul. |
| 15114 |
Some men may be sprinters, good in the short haul and competent in a crisis. Paul might prove to be the reverse. While not handling crises particularly well he was tenacious and stubborn, as proved by his lifelong obsession about his father, and this stroll across the Tenere was bringing out his best qualities. |
| 15115 |
I didn't know then how long we stumbled along in the dark but it seemed like hours. Later Byrne said he'd called a halt just before midnight, so that meant a six hour night march at probably not more than half a mile an hour. He stopped unexpectedly when we were half way up a slope, and said, This is it. |
| 15116 |
In the light of the moon I saw Billson just lying there. I crawled over to him and helped him out of his harness, then made sure his djellaba was wrapped around him, and built up a small rampart of sand on the downhill side of him to prevent him rolling to the bottom in his sleep. Before I left him he had passed out. |
| 15117 |
But first I unloaded the jerrican and had some water. Billson and Konti came down and were put to work, and by nightfall we had done all we could do, not to Byrne's satisfaction but that couldn't be helped. Then came the patrolling back and forth across the width of the valley, each in our own sector. |
| 15118 |
I was weary and the slow trudge in the thick sand didn't help. Every so often my feet encountered the edge of the trench and I turned to go back. Say three hundred yards for the round trip, about six to the mile. I wondered how many miles I was going to walk that night. Still, it was better than the bloody dunes. |
| 15119 |
If we could have synchronized our speeds we could have met every time, but there was no way of doing that in the darkness. The night wore on and my pace became slower. I was desperately tired and it was only because I had to walk that I kept awake, although sometimes I wonder if at times I wasn't walking in my sleep. |
| 15120 |
Maybe the desert had something to do with it. Looking down at the salt pans was like viewing a less salubrious section of Dante's Inferno. Salt bearing earth was dug from pits and thrown into evaporating pans where an impure salt was deposited on the surface as the water evaporated under the hot sun. |
| 15121 |
I wandered off casually following a trio heading in the general direction of the restaurant. It was as Byrne had described it; a broken down shack. The Germans looked at the sun blasted sign and the peeling walls and muttered dubiously, then made up their minds and went inside. I followed closely on their heels. |
| 15122 |
He looked up and inspected us curiously, so I turned and started to talk in German to the man next to me, asking if he thought the food here would be hygienically prepared. He advised me to stick to eggs. When I looked back at Kissack he had lost interest in us and seemed more intent on what was on his plate. |
| 15123 |
He turned away and started to talk in a low voice to the Arab. The sun was not dealing kindly with Kissack. His face was burned an angry red and the skin was still peeling from him. I was glad about that; he wasn't earning his murderer's pay easily. As a waiter came to take my order an aircraft flew over quite low. |
| 15124 |
Every so often I would pass a more or less open space where sheep or goats were penned or where chickens scratched, but in general there were just mud walls set with secretive doors every so often. A good shower of rain would have dissolved Bilma in one night, sending it back to the earth from which it had arisen. |
| 15125 |
After about half an hour's trudge we reached the track and waited, being careful to stand behind a convenient rock and not in plain sight. Soon we heard the grind of gear changing and I looked out to see the Toyota approaching, so we stepped out and Byrne stopped just long enough for us to climb in. |
| 15126 |
Then I stood with my arm inside my gandoura hanging straight down with the pistol in my hand; it couldn't be seen and I would waste no time in drawing it from the holster. The truck came over the rise two hundred yards away, travelling fast and trailing a long plume of dust which was blown to one side by the wind. |
| 15127 |
He saw us looking at him and zipped up the fly of his trousers. Byrne looked at me and grinned faintly. So the man who was going to kill us towed us into Seguedine, which wasn't much of a place, but there was a ruin with three standing walls and a decrepit roof which was enough to shelter the Toyota from the wind. |
| 15128 |
Even a tyro like myself had observed that desert crossings were most carefully prepared with times and distances collated and fuel and water carefully metered. No one in his right mind would flutter hither and yon like a carefree butterfly. To risk running out of fuel or water was dangerous. Lash sipped his whisky. |
| 15129 |
At the top Byrne stopped under a cliff on which was a huge engraving about twenty feet high of a barbaric figure holding a spear. He ignored it, having seen many rock engravings before, and climbed up a little way to where he could get a good view of the way we had just come. Presently he came down again. |
| 15130 |
We drove towards the mountains, towards steep cliffs which reared up like a great stone barrier. At last we bumped to a halt in a grove of tamarisk trees among which donkeys were grazing, Atitel and Kami waved in greeting as we got out Byrne grunted in disgust. Those goddamn animals should have been loaded by now. |
| 15131 |
When we got to the ravine it was bigger than it looked at first, maybe half a mile wide at the bottom and narrowing as it rose. There was a path of sorts which zig zagged from side to side so that for every hundred yards of forward travel we walked perhaps six hundred. And climbed, of course, but not as much. |
| 15132 |
As for Byrne, he was all whipcord and leather, as usual, but his nose was beakier and his cheeks more sunken than I had noticed before. So it was that it took us over four hours to climb two thousand feet and I doubt if the ground distance we had covered would be more than a mile and a half when measured on a map. |
| 15133 |
I blinked in surprise and sat up and stared. The man was nothing but paint on the wall of the cave, and so were the cattle and the hunters. I jerked my head around and saw Byrne squatting outside the cave, feeding the water boiling contraption he called a volcano. Behind him Hami was loading djerbas on to a donkey. |
| 15134 |
When we drove in the Toyota he always sat in the back and wasn't under my eye. On this, and other, desert marches he always brought up the rear. He said little, never commenting on what he saw, however wondrous, but just stubbornly put one foot in front of the other. And he never complained, no matter how he felt. |
| 15135 |
In all my years, even in the army, there was never a period during which I made as many dawn starts as in the desert. We marched three kilometres, Byrne setting the direction and pacing us. That took an hour. Then we stopped in the middle of nowhere and unloaded the donkeys and hobbled them so they wouldn't stray. |
| 15136 |
I have never seen a man look so peaceful, and I hoped he would now be cured of what ailed him, because there was no doubt that he had been a man badly disturbed to the point of insanity. I used up the whole roll of film, taking pictures from various angles, including two of the faded name on the side of the fuselage. |
| 15137 |
Up front there's a goddamn hunk of iron called an engine. That affects the compass reading. Now, that's a Wright Cyclone with nine cylinders and, in flight, all the spark plugs are busy sparking and sending out radiation. They tell you they can be screened but I've never seen anyone do a good job of screening yet. |
| 15138 |
He'd need more because he might run into head winds, and he'd need a further reserve because he wouldn't want to do anything hairy like finding Kano in the dark and coming in on his last pint of gas. At the same time he wouldn't want this auxiliary tank to be full because that means weight and that would slow him down. |
| 15139 |
His engine had quit and he was coming down in a glide with an airspeed of fifty five knots. There was a low moon and suddenly he saw rocks between him and the moon, so he stalled her. He pulled her nose right up and that lost his speed and his lift at the same time, so he fell out of the sky damn near vertically. |
| 15140 |
Byrne looked at me and raised his eyebrows, and I shook my head to indicate that I didn't know, either. The little man who wasn't there had indeed gone away. There was a bit of discussion in French with Zayid pointing out the imprint of donkey hooves in the sand and a clear indication they had gone through the cleft. |
| 15141 |
He peered inside, then said something to Kissack who was standing below. He seemed highly satisfied. He next made his way up the fuselage towards the engine where he sat astride the cowling just as Byrne had done. He picked up something and examined it, laughed again and tossed it down to Kissack, and pointed to us. |
| 15142 |
Kissack and Zayid were handing up jerricans to Lash, who stood on the wing and was pouring petrol into the auxiliary tank. The other two were still engaged in ferrying more jerricans. Lash put fifty gallons into the tank and there was still another fifty available because I counted twenty four jerricans in all. |
| 15143 |
Kissack handed him a full jerrican and Lash poured it into the cockpit, and then poured another into the cargo compartment. Then he did the same thing again with two more jerricans and I saw the shimmering haze of evaporating petrol above the aircraft. It was like a bomb and only needed a spark to explode. |
| 15144 |
While four of them lifted the other piled stones underneath and gradually the tail rose higher and higher. While all eyes were off me I got busy with the stone blade at Byrne's wrists. I didn't see Flyaway tip over but when I looked her fuselage was at forty five degrees and her tail was pointing to the sky. |
| 15145 |
The rending noise had been the propeller bending under the sudden weight of the engine as it hit the ground. They poured more petrol into her and Kissack used the last can to lay a trail across the sand. He didn't want to be too close when he tossed in a naked flame. He was quite a competent arsonist. |
| 15146 |
At first nothing happened. In the bright glare of the sun it was impossible to see the flames as they ran towards Flyaway. But then she exploded in fire; flames gouted out of the cockpit with a roar as though under forced draught, and ran up the fuselage right up to the tail and rudder until she was totally enveloped. |
| 15147 |
And he discovered that Byrne's Lee Enfield was packed on one of his donkeys. He went away and found a hole among the rocks and tethered the donkeys. One of them was inclined to bray, which frightened him because he thought it might be heard and they'd come looking for him. But he did the right thing. |
| 15148 |
There are not that many guns floating loose about Luton. He fiddled about with it, being careful not to touch the trigger, and worked the bolt action, trying to find the principle by which it worked. Eventually, more or less by accident, he pressed a catch and the magazine fell into the palm of his hand. |
| 15149 |
He began to search through the loads he had taken from the donkeys and eventually found an opened packet containing eleven rounds. When he tried to put bullets into the magazine they wouldn't fit so he tried them the other way around and they went in sweetly, compressing the leaf spring in the magazine. |
| 15150 |
His problem was that he didn't know when it was on and when it was off. It never occurred to him to take out the magazine, eject the round from the breech and then test the trigger with an empty gun. At last he reasoned that red would mean danger, so that when the red spot showed the safety catch was off. |
| 15151 |
So he stood there, irresolute, wondering what was the best thing to do. He then decided that it would not be a good idea to walk in on Lash and company by way of the cleft in the rocks which was now the common highway to Flyaway; instead, he would try to approach from the other direction. That was a good idea. |
| 15152 |
He found a canteen and filled it with water, put the remaining six bullets into his pocket, and then set off to explore, carrying the rifle somewhat gingerly as though it might explode of its own volition. He knew his direction to the cleft so he set off at right angles to that, skirting the base of a rock pillar. |
| 15153 |
He kept track of his progress by counting his paces, and when he had counted two hundred double strides he veered to the left and carried on. After five minutes he stopped in his tracks because he heard voices. Cautiously he peered round a rock and saw Kissack and Zayid passing by within spitting distance. |
| 15154 |
Presently he saw smoke drifting overhead, and then came the dull, echoing thud as the auxiliary fuel tank of Flyaway exploded. He assumed, correctly, that Flyaway was being destroyed. He didn't know why, but then, very few people did. He stood up and looked towards the source of the smoke, again irresolute. |
| 15155 |
That single shot, coming unexpectedly, froze everybody into a tableau as Kissack fell bonelessly to the ground. The bullet that smashed into the back of Kissack's head passed through him as though he wasn't there. It entered the cave, ricocheted around the walls and came out spaang, giving Zayid a fright. |
| 15156 |
Byrne was shooting police fashion; square on to the target and in a crouch, with arms extended and both hands on the butt of the pistol. He pumped three shots into Lash who jerked convulsively, then flopped about on the ground and began to scream. Paul fired again and the bullet ricocheted from rock to rock. |
| 15157 |
Byrne pulled back the bolt of the rifle and an empty brass case flew out. He slammed the bolt forward and locked it and then, without warning, stepped over to Lash, put the muzzle of the rifle to his temple, and pulled the trigger. The shot crashed out and after the echoes had died away the silence was shocking. |
| 15158 |
Then I brought out my plastic shaving soap container and that was put into an envelope and sealed and Byrne and I signed our names across the flap. I watched Byrne laboriously writing his name in an unformed handwriting, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth like that of a small schoolboy. |
| 15159 |
We stopped at the small door in the wall which opened as silently and mysteriously as before, and Paul and I walked towards the house. Hesther Raulier was still lying on the chaise longue and might never have moved but that she was wearing a different dress. As we approached she put down her cigar and stood up. |
| 15160 |
You were in aircraft manufacture, of course, on cost plus a percentage until your compatriot, Beaverbrook, put a stop to that. But by the end of the war you'd built up your nest egg to a couple of millions, plus the grateful thanks of your sovereign who ennobled you for contributing funds to the right political party. |
| 15161 |
I went up in the lift and stepped out into the lighted corridor. Geordie had made good time up the stairs and was breathing as easily as though he'd been strolling on the level. He motioned me to keep the lift door open and reached inside to press the button for the top floor. I closed the door and the lift went up. |
| 15162 |
If he hadn't stopped to kick at my head he would have got clean away, but I squirmed to avoid his boot and caught his leg, and he went sprawling into the corridor. I dived after him and got between him and the stairs, and he stood in a crouch looking at me, his eyes darting about, looking for escape. |
| 15163 |
He might have got away then but once again I tackled him rugby fashion so that I floored him just short of the fire escape. The fall knocked the breath out of me and he improved the shining hour by kicking me in the face. Then, as I was shaking my head in dizziness, he tossed Mark's case into the darkness. |
| 15164 |
Then I hit him hard on the jaw and he teetered on the top step of the fire escape. I hit him again and slammed him against the railing and, to my horror, he jackknifed over. He didn't make a sound as he fell the three floors into the alley and it seemed a long time before I heard the dull thump as he hit the ground. |
| 15165 |
Then I cut it in half with a diamond saw. Not entirely unexpectedly, in the centre was the white bone of a shark's tooth, also neatly cut in two. One of the pieces I put in the rock mill and, while it was being ground to the consistency of fine flour, I polished and etched the flat surface of the other piece. |
| 15166 |
I looked incredulously at the table of figures that was emerging, breathing heavily with excitement and with my mind full of conflicting conjectures. Then I became even busier, carefully dismantling the glassware and meticulously washing every piece. I wanted no evidence left of what I'd been up to. |
| 15167 |
A local shop produced me a copy of the previous day's press and the story was a short one, buried in the body of the paper, lacking in detail and with no mention of what had been stolen, which suited me very well. I didn't want to be questioned on anything concerning manganese nodules. I'm not naturally a good liar. |
| 15168 |
An American engineer called John Mero did a post graduate thesis on it. He proposed dropping a thing like a giant vacuum cleaner and sucking the nodules to the surface. The capitalization on a scheme like that would run into millions and the profit would be marginal at one pound a square foot of ocean bed. |
| 15169 |
He was a broad, stocky man of about sixty with a square, tanned face lined with experience. Somebody once said that after forty a man is responsible for his own face; if that's so then Campbell had had a lot of responsibility in his time. His eyes were a frosty blue and his hair iron grey and grizzled. |
| 15170 |
Geordie assiduously recruited his crew and soon they began to turn up. He had kept on four of his own lads and had of course taken on Kane in place of one of the men he let go. Of the other six that he added, all were faces that I hadn't seen since I had been a boy during the war, tagging around after my dad's gang. |
| 15171 |
Not one had lost his fitness and there wasn't a paunch among the lot of them. Geordie said he could have recruited twenty five but he'd picked the best of them, and I almost believed him. I was confident that if we ran into trouble we could handle it. Geordie was confident too, of welding them into a good sailing crew. |
| 15172 |
They might have the exact location of the nodules we're after, and only have to drop a dredge to prove their case, but perhaps they're behind us in planning and need to stop us somehow first. On the other hand, they don't know how much we know. Which is precious little. Maybe as much as, or no more than them. |
| 15173 |
It hung between us, a touchy subject that we both carefully avoided. So he went off to Canada to further his own progress, we speeded up ours as much as possible, and it was with great relief that I heard Geordie announce one day that we were at last ready for sea. All he needed to know was where to head for. |
| 15174 |
Stopping to dredge a little, trying out the winch and working out on station routines, was an interesting change from what we had been doing and everyone enjoyed it, and we remained lucky with the weather. I got some nodules up but there was a lot of other material, enough to cloud the issue for everyone but Geordie. |
| 15175 |
Now, for reasons that I won't go into now, all colloidal particles must carry an electric charge. These charges make the colloidal particles of manganese dioxide clump together in larger and larger units. They also tend to be attracted to any electrically conductive surfaces such as a shark's tooth or a bit of clay. |
| 15176 |
And there was something else I didn't talk about; the peculiarities that led to high cobalt assay. I was beginning to grope towards a theory of nodule formation which, though still vague, might ease the way ahead. I was becoming anxious to know how Campbell's cipher expert had made out in translating Mark's diary. |
| 15177 |
This was the vital period. It was, on the whole, an ordinary enough diary; there were references to shore leave, films seen, people mentioned by initials only in the irritating way that people have when confiding to themselves, and all the other trivia of a man's life, all in brusque lack of detail. |
| 15178 |
Mark had kept a brief record of his amours which wasn't pleasant to read, but otherwise it was fairly uninteresting on the surface. Then there were the entries made at sea. Here the diary turned professional with notes of observations, odd equations roughly jotted, analyses of bottom material, mostly sea ooze. |
| 15179 |
I waded on feeling that I might be wasting my time, but towards the end I was pulled up with a start. I had run my eye down the typewritten sheet and was aware that I was at last looking at something remarkable. It was an analysis of a nodule, though it didn't specifically say so, and the figures were startling. |
| 15180 |
The fact that all these names occur in the same quarter of the globe is a further indication that one may be on the right track in such surmising. Other names tentatively identified are also to be found in the same geographical area. Tracings of the drawings, together with possible identifications are attached. |
| 15181 |
He seemed to see his whole life in terms of competition with me, even inventing apparent parental favouritism towards me where I could see none. The only reason that I know for his having elected to study oceanogra phy was because I had done so and not, like me, out of any burning interest in the subject. |
| 15182 |
He once said that he would be famous when I had been forgotten. It was ironic in a way that he should have said that, because he had the makings of a first rate scientist with a theoretical bent and if he'd lived I'm sure he could have surprised us all provided he wasn't looking for a short cut at the time. |
| 15183 |
It was all very civilized and pleasant and a definite change from life on board Esmerelda. Over drinks I asked Campbell to bear with me in setting aside for the moment the matter of the diary, and instead listen while I brought him up to date concerning manganese nodules, to which he reluctantly agreed. |
| 15184 |
It would add slightly to the risk of discovery, but if it was found out, as it evidently was, he'd be only another glory hunting scientist, rather too optimistic and looking for professional praise. No one would suspect that one set of figures was wrong for another reason. They may not ever have caught it. |
| 15185 |
We agreed that we might as well get on with things, and that all being well we should be able to sail within a day or so; impatience was in the air. I decided to try and have another word with Paula, who had left a note for me, containing her address. I had another idea that I wanted to try out on her. |
| 15186 |
I went back to the hotel slowly, looking at shops and enjoying the exotic street scenes around me. I lunched alone, not finding any of the others in, but presently I saw Clare and her father arriving, and soon after we were joined by Geordie carrying a book. Over cold drinks we got down to business once more. |
| 15187 |
I think he was unused to being cut off from the telephone. He haunted the radio, but though he needed news he half didn't want to get it, and he certainly didn't want to answer. We had a powerful radio telephone that he had insisted on installing; it was an electronic shout that could cover the Pacific. |
| 15188 |
She forged through the placid seas at a steady nine knots to where we would catch the southeast trade wind and find perfect sailing weather. It wasn't long before we picked up a southerly wind and we headed south west under fore and aft sails only, Esmerelda heeling until the foaming sea lapped at the lee rail. |
| 15189 |
It was unusual for him not to be the master of the situation, and he said he felt like a spare wheel on deck, surrounded by men who were doing all sorts of mysterious things fast and well without his guidance. He must have been hell to his mining engineers on land. Clare, on the other hand, was a good sailor. |
| 15190 |
It was one of those incredible nights you find in the tropics. There was a waning moon and the stars sparkled like a handful of diamonds cast across the sky. The wind sang in the rigging and the water talked and chuckled to Esmerelda, and a white foamed wake with patches of phosphorescence stretched astern. |
| 15191 |
Sometimes we had money and sometimes we didn't, but Pop always looked after me. I went to good schools, and to college. It was only last year that I found out that once, when Pop was on a crest, he'd put aside a fund for me. Even when he was busted he never touched it, no matter how much he needed money. |
| 15192 |
I realised that my fists had been clenched at my sides. Next day we were up before the sun, waiting to take a sight and hoping there would be no clouds. Taking a dawn sight is tricky and a bit uncertain, but we had to know if possible how far we had drifted during the night, or the search would be futile. |
| 15193 |
Otherwise there was nothing. We hove to again and waited out another night. And the next day was largely a repetition. The last leg of the search took us directly over both reported positions, and we were anxious about it because the wind had veered northerly and the waves were confused, showing white caps. |
| 15194 |
On two occasions operations were interrupted when something was sighted that looked very much like a coral reef, lying some twenty feet under the water, but on both occasions this turned out to be masses of a greenish algae floating on the surface, and we had our share of false alarms when fish shoals were seen. |
| 15195 |
Ian let Esmerelda continue to go about until the foaming area in the sea was well behind us, then straightened her out and the indicator light of the echo sounder spun the other way just as fast. He throttled the engine down and I took a deep breath to steady myself. Geordie came running along the deck. |
| 15196 |
Campbell was quite ready to chuck the whole thing in on a land search he would be more tenacious, but then he was seldom out there himself during the early exploratory days, usually only coming in at the kill, so to speak. And so we decided to call a halt to the proceedings and to turn towards Tahiti the next morning. |
| 15197 |
We had talked further about the possibilities ahead of us and I had tried to persuade him that I wasn't taking him on any wild goose chases, but in fact I had nothing much to go on myself, and was feeling very bothered by this. Clare was back to poring over Mark's diary, trying to unravel a few more mysteries. |
| 15198 |
I had to join her and even her father started to smile as he saw the joke. If true, it was a good one. We put the incident with Kane out of our minds. As Esmerelda drew nearer to Tahiti the sea gave place to mountains, hazy green, and then we began to see the surf breaking on the beaches as we sailed along the coast. |
| 15199 |
Most go away when they find that the islands are not the paradise of reputation. Others stay to cause us trouble. Our work here is not to aid the degenerate sweepings, but to maintain the standard for our own people. And when an unknown white who is already in trouble dies we do not make too much fuss. |
| 15200 |
Occasionally she sang for us in the evenings and took pleasure in her small touch of limelight. Campbell seemed to have adopted her as an unusual, but welcome, honorary niece. When we left the main clutter of islands Geordie was able to set a course for Tanakabu without worrying overmuch about grounding. |
| 15201 |
A small fleet of canoes came out to meet us and soon a number of Polynesians were climbing on deck. I had decided not to wait until morning, but to act right away. It was only early evening, perhaps the best time to see a busy doctor, and there was the fear of being followed to spur me to action. I raised my voice. |
| 15202 |
Most of the bodywork was stripped and the engine was naked and unashamed, very like the naked toddlers who squalled and chattered, their eyes big at the sight of the strangers revealed in the flare of torches. We climbed in and I sat on a hard wooden box, innocent of upholstery, as Piro started the engine. |
| 15203 |
It banged and spluttered, but caught, and Piro threw in the gears with a jerk and we were off, bouncing along the beach and swerving round a clump of palms dimly illuminated by the feeble headlight. It was very noisy. The sudden change from being at sea in Esmerelda was unnerving. Piro was very proud of his jeep. |
| 15204 |
I knew intellectually that leprosy isn't particularly infectious, but of all diseases it is the most abhorred and I didn't feel like driving into a colony. Piro didn't seem worried though, and drove blithely off the beach right into the hospital grounds, pulling up in front of a long low roofed shack. |
| 15205 |
In his prime, he must have tipped the scales at two hundred and twenty pounds of bone and muscle, but now he was flabby and soft and his paunch had taken over. His face was seamed and lined and he had two deep clefts from the nose to the corners of his mouth, forming soft dewlaps which shook on his cheeks. |
| 15206 |
Then the big man hit me again and the other man said, "If you breathe a word about this we'll know it and we'll come back, and you know what will happen to this collection of grass shacks you call a hospital." Then the big man set fire to the thatch over there and while I tried to beat it out they left. |
| 15207 |
The three miles or so to the hospital took only twenty minutes, but by that time we could see that the whole place was on fire. We could see black figures running about, outlined against the flames, and I wondered how many survivors there were. I was so intent on the scene on shore that I didn't see the ship. |
| 15208 |
Still he felt so deeply moved that he wondered if one could be afraid in spite of oneself. What would happen if that state of things should exist? If he should tremble or lose his presence of mind? He lighted his candle and looked in the glass; he scarcely recognized his own face, it was so changed. |
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