The Providence Rider Read Online Free Page A

the answer was yes . It was hard to tell.
    In any case, the hickory stick went down.
    “Time, everyone!” Vincent announced. “Time, please!” And then, to no one in particular, “I’m going out to get some air !”
    “Don’t rush back on our accounts,” Greathouse said as Vincent departed with a wobble in his wig.
    The little commotion caused a hiccup in the music and, the pacing lost, the company of reelers banged and bumped into each other like a caravan of carriages that had thrown their wheels. Instead of the kind of indignation that Vincent might have shown at this lack of dancely decorum, the collisions brought forth laughter both brassy and silvery and thus revealed was the true metal of friendship among the Mad Robins of New York.
    The musicians decided to rest their fiddles, drums and squeezebox. The dancers dispersed to get their share of apple cider and sugar cakes from the table in the other room. Berry came up alongside Greathouse and Matthew and said with appreciable generosity to the young man, “You’re doing very well. Better than you did at the house.”
    “Thank you. My feet don’t believe you, but thank you anyway.”
    She gave a quick glance at Greathouse and then focused her attention again on her object. “Cider?” she asked.
    “In a minute.” Matthew was aware he was not the most genial of company this night; perhaps it was the fact that he’d just seen the Mallorys—the devilishly-handsome, gentlemanly Doctor Jason and his beautiful black-haired wife Rebecca—standing across the room pretending to be talking but actually keeping their eyes on him. Those two had been haunting him seemingly wherever he went ever since he’d returned from the Slaughter incident.
    We have a mutual acquaintance , Rebecca Mallory had said to Matthew one day on a quiet waterfront street while her husband silently stood watch. We believe he’d like to meet you .
    When you’re ready , the woman had said, in a week or two, we’d like you to come visit us. Will you do that?
    And what if I don’t? Matthew had asked, because he knew full well to what acquaintance Rebecca Mallory must be referring.
    Oh, let’s don’t be unfriendly, Matthew. In a week or two. We’ll set a table, and we’ll be expecting you.
    “ I’ll certainly be glad to have cider with you, Berry!” said Effrem Owles, pushing past Matthew in his eagerness to inhale the girl’s essence. His eyes were large and round behind his spectacles. The tailor’s son was dressed simply but elegantly in a black suit, white shirt and white stockings. His teeth gleamed at the center of his giddy smile. Though Effrem was only twenty years old, premature gray streaked his brown hair. He was tall and thin. Gangly would be the proper word. An excellent chess player, but the only game he was playing tonight had to do with Cupid. Tonight he was obviously hanging onto the hope that Berry would grace him with the opportunity to watch her drink cider and eat sugar cakes. Effrem was in love. No, more than love, Matthew thought. Effrem was obsessed with Berry. He talked about her incessantly and wanted to know everything of her comings and goings, and did Matthew ever put in a good word for him and say how much money an able tailor could command and all such nonsense. Between Effrem and the town’s eccentric but highly-efficent coroner Ashton McCaggers, Berry had her choice of ardent pursuers.
    “Well…” Berry made it sound like not only a deep subject but also one that greatly perplexed her. “Matthew, I thought—”
    “Go ahead,” Matthew told her, if only because he feared getting saliva on his sleeve from Effrem’s tongue. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
    “Grand!” said Effrem as he positioned himself beside Berry for the stroll into the other room. She went along, because she did like Effrem. Not in that way he wished to be liked, but because Matthew counted him a good friend and she saw in Effrem the loyalty of friendship she