icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Two Sides of the Face: Midwinter Tales

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 2036    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

her use. This was his way. From childhood he and his mother had lived in a sort of conspiracy- intending no guile, be it understood. She was a Roman Catholic. Her husband, good easy

n faith. She had delicate health, too-a weapon which makes a woma

ter and his mother laid their plans together before coming to him. Why? Good Heavens! (he reflected testily) the boy might come and ask for anything in reason, and welcome! To give, even after grumbling a bit, is one of a father's dearest privileges. But no: when Walter wanted anything-which was seldom-he must go to his mother and tell her, and his mother promised to "manage it." In his secret heart the Squire loathed this roundabout management, and tried to wean Walter by consulting him frankly on the daily business of the estate. But no again: Walter seemingly cared little for these confidences: and again, although he learned to shoot and was a fair horseman, he put no heart into his sports. His religion debarred him from a public s

e she stopped her work with a sharp contraction of the heart: even the clattering wooden shoes could not wholly disguise that footst

the

felt his hands go about her wa

ter! Oh,

with a sob. She bent h

you have suffered! But y

tences he beg

father?" she asked

een nobody: I came

greatly

or, and Father Halloran stoo

white-haired, with a genial laughing eye, and

e love of the saints tell

s face in a rapture. But the priest's brow, at first j

d," he said. "They scarcely w

arelessness!" put in M

othing to prevent? They hadn'

f us rightly understood. I heard afterwards some pretty stories of this gentleman. He had been a contractor to the late Republic, in horse-forage, and had swindled the Government (people said) to the tune of some millions of franc

bing them of colour. He shivered: and as with a small shiver men sometimes greet a deadly sickness, so Father Halloran's shiver presaged the doom of a life's hope. He had been Walter's tutor, and had built much on the boy: he had read warnings from time to time,

hey had taken our word and let us go: they marched us off at once to special quarters-billeted us all in one house, over a greengrocer's shop, with a Government concierge below stairs to keep watch on our going and coming. A roll was call

e at Father Halloran's back. The p

d was handled by half a dozen other rascals, perhaps, before ever it reached me. They didn't even trouble themselves to hide the

ch you on the first of every month-and Dickinson's agents in Paris sending back assurances t

d knew that it was meant for him. He turned now with a half audible "Pish!" but contr

n him?" he as

n wh

r fa

ing to surprise mother. I only arrive

Halloran, suddenly giving vent to his anger: as suddenly checking it

at once and unhesitatingly upon her husband. "I think you are horribly unjust," she said. "God knows how I ha

your father at once," he said gravely. "At once," he r

you think it wi

be wise-in your mean

go wit

N

ght help t

that too often," he answered; and to himself he added: "She i

ll understand?" she aske

go: afterwards I will speak to him." The priest seemed to hesitate before adding,

ched at once as soon as the concierge reported me missing. From Lamballe I trudged through St. Brisac to Guingamp, hiding by day and walking by night, and at Guingamp called at the house of an onion-merchant, to whom I had been directed. At this season he works his business by hiring gangs of boys of all ages from fourteen to twenty, marching them down to Pampol or Morlaix, and shipping them up the coast to sell his onions along the Seine valley, or by another route southward from Etaples and Boulogne. I joined a party of six bound for Morlaix, and tramped all the way in these shoes with a dozen strings of onions slung on a sti

an stepped to

k a glass of wine, I think, and th

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open