The Witch's Daughter Read Online Free Page A

his handkerchief and filled it to the brim with creamy milk.
    â€˜She won’t come to much harm if she gets outside of that,’ Frog Face said.
    Perdita sat on a stool by the fire. While she ate, the two men watched her, not talking, and after a while the silence and the food and the warmth from the fire made her feel sleepy. Her eyelids drooped, her stomach felt tight as a drum. She leaned back against the arm of Mr Smith’s chair, and dozed …
    *
    While she slept, someone must have lifted her and placed herin a chair. The next thing she knew was the roughness of the chair cover under her cheek, and the murmuring sound of voices.
    â€˜â€¦ thinking of South America,’ Mr Jones was saying. ‘But the wife isn’t keen, not at all. Doesn’t want to interrupt the girls’ education, she says. Very keen on their schooling. There’ll be schools in South America, I tell her, but she says it won’t be the same. She wants to stay put, that’s the truth of it …’
    â€˜Sensible woman,’ Mr Smith said, rather dryly. ‘It’s what I told you to do, wasn’t it? Stay put, sit tight. Enjoy a bit of extra comfort here and there …’
    â€˜Not enough, Smithie …’ Suddenly Mr Jones’s voice was pleading. ‘Come on, be fair! Put yourself in my place. Would it have been enough for you, knowing what you’d got in that box there? Lap of luxury all your life, not just comfort. And freedom …’ His voice sank, lingered lovingly. ‘Freedom, Smithie …’
    â€˜Let’s hope it turns out that way,’ Mr Smith said.
    Perdita yawned and stretched. There was a sudden, sharp sound as of a metal lid slamming shut. She sat up sleepily and saw the two men standing and looking at her. Frog Face put out one hand as if to cover up a small box on the table in front of him; then he seemed to think better of it, tucked both hands into his pockets and smiled at her benignly.
    â€˜Woke up, have you?’ he said. He nodded at Mr Smith, ‘Bed’s the best place.’
    Perdita slipped off the chair, rubbing her eyes. One of her legs had gone to sleep, making her stagger, and Frog Face caught her arm to steady her.
    â€˜One thing first, though,’ he said. ‘Smithie here says you don’t carry tales. I believe him, so you won’t, will you? Not about me.’ He shook her a little, in a friendly enough way, but there was a warning in his voice. ‘Forget you ever saw me, eh?’
    â€˜She knows,’ Mr Smith says. ‘Don’t you, witch?’
    Perdita nodded.
    â€˜That’s good.’ Frog Face smiled fatly. ‘You’re a good little girl. Good little girls sometimes get nice presents.’ He paused. ‘What would you think was a nice present?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Perdita murmured.
    â€˜There’s no need,’ Mr Smith said sharply. ‘The child’s not used to presents.’
    â€˜Oh come,’ Frog Face said. ‘Little girls are the same the world over.’ His voice was coaxing. ‘There must be something she’d like, something she wants …’
    Sleepiness had made Perdita bold. ‘All I want,’ she said suddenly , ‘the only thing I want, is to go to school.’
    â€˜ School? ’ Frog Face said, astonished. ‘Don’t you go to school?’
    Mr Smith answered for her. ‘No. She doesn’t. Never has. I don’t think she can even read and write.’ He hesitated. ‘She runs wild. Like a little wild cat.’
    â€˜Good heavens!’ Frog Face said. ‘But she can’t—I mean, she can’t not go to school. Good heavens, man, that’s against the law .’
    Perdita was awake enough, now, to wonder why Mr Smith should laugh so merrily at that.
    â€˜Not really,’ he said, after a minute. ‘There is a school at Skuaphort, but it’s more than three miles and