Toward the Sea of Freedom Read Online Free Page A

fast in the village, and faster still when it involved the steward visiting a tenant family on a Sunday—and bringing bacon, to boot. But Michael could not possibly believe she would have agreed to the meeting!
    Kathleen made a decision. “No treats from the kitchen, Jonny,” she said, “but an apple from the landlord’s garden if you stay here and take your lookout job seriously. I’m going to meet Michael at the river—and if you hear anyone coming, make your owl noise. Although maybe you could imitate a bird that sings during the day?”
    After Jonny had assured her he could do a convincing cuckoo, Kathleen ran down to the river. It was a sunny afternoon, and the Vartry River ran like a stream of liquid silver through the lushly green countryside. She made her way through the reeds on the bank.
    “Kathie?” asked Michael before she even reached the little bight.
    “Michael!”
    Kathleen wanted to throw herself into the arms of her love, but he did not embrace her with the usual warmth. She breathed deeply. She had to tell him right away, so he would not get angry.
    “Michael, I have nothing to do with it. I won’t walk with Trevallion,” she assured him. “Never! I, I only want you, Michael.”
    Michael looked hurt, furious. His face did not glow as it usually did at sight of her, and he did not have any beautiful words on his tongue. Nevertheless, he kissed her then—much, much harder and much, much more demandingly than usual. She was startled at first, but then she returned the kiss with equal passion. Something had changed in Michael’s gaze. She saw ardor in his eyes, joy in the challenge and the fight.
    Without a word, Michael picked her up and laid her down in a nest of reeds and grass, shielded by willow branches that hung so low that only dim greenly golden light penetrated. Kathleen thought about the church’s varicolored windows and the colorful light that streamed from them during Mass. She thought about a wedding.
    “I want to be your wife, Michael,” she assured him.
    Surely now, he would flatter her again, caress her, and kiss her.
    “Prove it,” Michael said in a tone that was strange to her.
    Kathleen looked at him helplessly. And this time when he began to open her dress, she did not try to stop him.

    Kathleen could not prevent Ralph Trevallion from accompanying her after Sunday Mass, though she exerted herself well enough to keep him from making any detours between the church and village or from parting from her parents and siblings. None of this seemed to bother the steward. He walked dutifully beside her, saying a few pleasantries and chatting with her mother and father.
    For James O’Donnell, the walk through the village became a running of the gauntlet. The farmers did not approve of the tailor conversing with the steward, let alone his plan to seal family ties.
    “Can’t you walk around the village alone with the man, like the other girls with their beaux?” O’Donnell asked his daughter sharply after they had walked through the village with Trevallion for the third time.
    “He’s not my beau!” Kathleen retorted angrily. “And if you don’t want to be seen with him, imagine how I feel!”
    Kathleen did not make mention of Trevallion’s presents, though her mother treasured the steward precisely because of them. The O’Donnells now always had enough flour to bake bread, and every Sunday, there was meat in the pot.
    Michael Drury had to stand witness as Trevallion offered Kathleen his arm, as he walked beside her, and as he proudly led her through the crowd, which discontentedly made way, when the priest said good-bye to the parish after Mass. Michael was enraged as he watched, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Yet during the long late-summer evenings after work, Michael pressed his claims in the fields along the river. He was usually already waiting for Kathleen, longing for the cuckoo call with which Jonny gleefully announced her. She came to him whenever she