Charles Palliser Read Online Free Page A

the house?” he said. “Not even a few coppers?”
    Still looking into his face my mother said: “Will you bring me a six-pence from my writing-desk, Bissett?”
    “I will not, ma’am,” said my nurse stoutly. “I’ll not leave you and Master Johnnie out of my sight while that rag-a-bond is here.”
    “I believe we should help him, nurse. I believe it would be better.”
    “Show a little charity, miss’is,” the man said boldly to Bissett.
    “Charity’s for them as desarves it, but you’ve a gallows face and I’ll warrant the Law knows summat of you. The only place I’ll go is to fetch the constable and then we s’all see.”
    “Why, damn you, you old meddler,” the stranger shouted, his features A WISE CHILD

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    hardening suddenly. With an oath he stepped forward, raising his stick and putting his other hand upon the gate as if to open it. My mother screamed and stepped back, while I ran forward to defend my territory.
    “Don’t you dare come in here!” I cried. “If you do I’ll kick you so hard you’ll fall over and then I’ll sit on you until Mr Pimlott comes.”
    He scowled down at me as my mother and nurse hurried forward to pull me back from the gate, but then as he looked towards them there appeared a smile that frightened me more than his previous grimace: “Why you didn’t think I meant to come in, did you?
    I amn’t sich a flatt as to bring the Law down upon me like that.”
    “I’ll run for the constable now, ma’am, while you take the boy inside,” said Bissett breathlessly.
    “Don’t give yourself the trouble,” said the stranger laconically. “I’ll bid you good day, Mrs Mellamphy,” he added and, shrugging his shoulders, turned and walked quickly up the lane.
    My mother knelt with her arms around my neck, and hugged me: “You were so brave, Johnnie,” she said, kissing me and laughing and almost sobbing at the same time. “But you mustn’t, you mustn’t.”
    “If he’d come in I’d have frightened him away,” I boasted.
    Looking over her shoulder and through the mass of golden curls, I watched the stranger walking away with an odd, lolloping stride, his shoulders strangely hunched.
    Just as he reached the corner of the High-street he turned to look back at us. Even from where I was standing, I could see an expression of such concentrated, black-browed malevolence that it burned itself indelibly into my memory. My mother didn’t see this, but I noticed that Bissett had intercepted that look, and I saw her spit surreptitiously on her right index finger and swiftly draw a cross between her eyes.
    “Come, Johnnie,” said my mother. And the three of us, my mother still keeping her arm on my shoulder, made our way through the back-door into the kitchen.
    The cool, spacious kitchen which seemed so dark as we passed into it from the sun-lit garden, had originally been the “house-place” of the ancient farm-house which formed the original core of our cottage, as its huge chimney-place and white, scoured and sanded stone-flagged floor testified. This was Mrs Belflower’s domain, and we now found that good-natured body standing over the fire preparing our tea. I broke from my mother’s hold and danced across the floor towards her:
    “Mrs Belflower, Mrs Belflower,” I sang out, “a rag-a-bond just tried to get into the garden but I drove him away. I wasn’t frightened at all.”
    “Well, just fancy! Isn’t that nice, dear. I only hope it’s given you a good appetite for your tea,” said the imperturbable cook, turning towards us and wiping her large red hands upon her apron. She had a kindly face as plump and pale as one of her own puddings wrapped in muslin, and rather vague blue eyes that didn’t quite meet your gaze.
    Disappointed, I tried again: “He was very fierce, and he said he’d roast me alive if he caught me.”
    “Lor’ save us,” said Mrs Belflower rather distantly, her eyes straying to the sideboard where the tea-things were