Abbeyford Remembered Read Online Free

men’s affairs to talk on.” He glanced meaningly at Foster, who shrugged, laughed, and slapping Carrie once more on the backside said, “ Now don’t you be goin’ too far away, me girl.”
    Carrie moved towards the door of the shack. To her left hung an old brown curtain, dividing the small area where her parents slept from the rest of the shack. Carrie opened the door and then glanced back towards the two men. She was curious to know what lay behind her father’s secretiveness. Their backs were towards her so she shut the door with a slam, as if she had left the shack, but instead she slipped stealthily behind the curtain. Her heart was beating rapidly as she sat quietly on the shakedown on the floor and pulled the worn blanket over her. Silent, she sat listening to the voices of the men, her father’s sometimes low so that she had to strain to hear his words, but Lloyd Foster she could hear plainly.
    â€œAnd what did ye find out then, me friend?” Foster was saying. She heard the rustle of paper and could only guess that her father was unfolding a map. She had seen them use one before to plan the route of the railway line.
    â€œIt’s even better than I had hoped,” Evan replied, and there was a kind of suppressed excitement in his tone. “The best route is right across the land which now belongs to the Trents. And Squire Guy Trent’s tight for money. Drinks and gambles all his grandson’s inheritance away. He’s ripe, I tell you!” There was a dull thud as if Evan had thumped the table with his fist in his enthusiasm.
    â€œGambles, is it, you say? Ah, a man after me own heart! And where is it you think our railway should run?”
    Again Carrie heard the rustle of paper and imagined their heads bent together over the map as she had seen them so many times. She heard her father’s voice. “We continue south from where we are now, making a cutting through this small incline, then into Abbeyford valley, between the hills to the east and west. We’ll need an embankment, but the best line would be between the Manor House and the stream and continue south out of the valley. We can get through the dip between these two lines of hills quite easily.”
    â€œMmm,” Lloyd Foster’s tone was, for once, serious – the only time he was ever serious was when discussing his beloved railway. “I’ll be needin’ to survey the whole district. ’ Tis me engineer’s job by rights, but you know when ’tis me own livelihood I’m gamblin’ I like to be seein’ the cards for meself.”
    Carrie knew that, although a fine engineer by the name of Thomas Quincy, who also happened to be a surveyor, was employed on this line, Foster himself always surveyed the land and knew the workings of the line as well as any engineer. And she also knew that the money which built the railway was not his own but that of the Railway Board – men who invested capital into such schemes with the hope of becoming even richer than they already were.
    There was a pause, then Foster added, “What about skirting these hills – avoidin’ Abbeyford all together?”
    â€œNo!” Evan’s tone was sharp. “To the east there’s more hills and if you veer to the west you’ll go through Lynwood’s lands – not the Trents!”
    â€œAnd will that be mattering?”
    â€œWell – he’ll demand a higher way-leave for his land. I reckon we’d be better to buy off a good deal of Trent’s land – we ought to have a station or a halt hereabouts, anyway.”
    â€œAye, maybe you’re right as ever, me boy.” Foster’s ready laugh rang out. “ You’ll be takin’ me job if I don’t watch out. Tell me now, what is it about these Trents? Your face seems to change when you speak of them and you’re determined the railroad shall run through their land, are ye