Читать книгу The Witch of Blackbird Pond / Ведьма с пруда Черных Дроздов. 10-11 классы - Элизабет Джордж Спир - Страница 4

Kit, Nat, the captain and some sailors, carrying Kit’s trunks, walked along the dirty road. Her last hopes died: there was no fine town of Wethersfield – just a settlement more lonely than Saybrook. A man with a cow stopped to stare at them, and Captain Eaton asked him for directions. “High Street,” the man said, pointing to the right. “Matthew Wood’s place is the third house.”

High Street was just a narrow path. Kit saw that at least her uncle’s house looked respectable. The captain knocked hard on the massive door. The door opened and there was a thin, gray-haired woman. She looked like a servant, but the captain took off his hat and greeted her.

The woman looked at the girl, and her face suddenly turned white. “Margaret,” she whispered.

For a moment the two women stared at each other. Then Kit understood. “Aunt Rachel!” she cried. “It is Kit! I am Margaret’s daughter.”

“Kit? Katherine Tyler? I thought… Oh, my dear child, how wonderful!”

All at once there was warmth and happiness. Yes, this strange woman was really her Aunt Rachel!

Captain Eaton then started saying his goodbyes. “Well, I am glad that everything is well.”

“I’m sorry about all this trouble,” Kit said. “And I thank you, all of you.”

The captain had already started walking back along the road, but Nat still stood beside her. As their eyes met, something passed between them. “Remember,” he said softly. “Only the guilty ones swim.” And then he was gone too.

Through the doorway of Matthew Wood’s house Kit stepped into a great kitchen. “Matthew! Girls!” cried her aunt. “Something wonderful has happened! Here is Katherine Tyler, my sister Margaret’s girl, who has come all the way from Barbados!”

Three people stared at Kit from the dining table. Then a man stood up and came toward her. “You are welcome, Katherine,” he said gravely. There was no welcome in his dark eyes. From behind him a girl came. “This is your cousin Judith,” Kit’s aunt said. Judith’s face was so beautiful – clear white skin, blue eyes, black curly hair. “And your other cousin, Mercy.” The second girl came up more slowly, and at first Kit only saw her extraordinary clear gray eyes – the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. Then, as Mercy stepped forward, Kit noticed that she walked with crutches. “How lovely,” said Mercy, “to see you after all these years, Katherine! Have you had breakfast yet?”

“I am afraid not. And please call me Kit.”

“Then take off your coat and come close to the fire, my dear,” said her aunt.

“Oh!” Judith exclaimed. “You traveled in a dress like that?” Here in this plain room Kit’s beautiful dress seemed too elegant. The three other women were all wearing some simple gray gowns.

Then Judith saw Kit’s gloves. “They are so beautiful,” she whispered.

“Do you like them? I’ll give you some just like these, if you like. I have several pairs in my trunk.”

Meanwhile, Rachel Wood set a mug, a spoon and a simple wooden plate for Kit. “Tell us, Katherine, how you came so far. Did your grandfather come with you?” she asked.

“My grandfather died four months ago,” Kit explained.

“Oh, you poor child! All alone there on that island! Who came with you, then?”

“I came alone.”

“Oh, poor child!” her aunt cried. “Well, you’re safe here. Have some corn bread, my dear. It was baked yesterday, and there is butter.”

Kit was thirsty and lifted the mug, but then put it down again. “Is that water?” she asked politely.

“Of course. Fresh from the spring.”

Water for breakfast! But the bread was delicious. While Kit was eating, Rachel Wood was looking at her young face. Her eyes filled with tears. “You look so like my sister.”

Matthew Wood had not sat down at the table with the others. What did this kind woman find in that grave silent man? Was he so handsome? Uncle Matthew had said nothing, but Kit understood that he had been watching her very carefully. Now he put on a leather jacket and prepared to leave. “I will be working in the south meadow till sundown,” he told his wife.

At the open door, however, he stopped and looked at Kit’s baggage. “What is all this?” he asked coldly.

“Oh,” said Kit. “Those are my trunks.”

“Yours? Seven trunks? What can be in them?”

“Well, my clothes and some things of Grandfather’s.”

“Seven trunks of clothes, all the way from Barbados, just for a visit?”

The room became suddenly cold and quiet. “I have not come for a visit, sir,” Kit managed to answer. “I have come to stay with you.”

Rachel gasped. Matthew Wood closed the door and came back to the table. “Then why did you not write to us first?” he asked.

“I was afraid that you might not ask me to come, and I had to come,” Kit said.

“We wouldn’t have said no,” said her uncle. “But a step like this should not be taken thoughtlessly.”

“Matthew,” protested Rachel timidly, “we are the only family she has. Let us talk about it later. Now Katherine is tired, and your work is waiting for you.”

Matthew Wood took a chair and sat down heavily. “The work will have to wait,” he said. “It is best that we clear this matter now. How did you get on the ship all alone?”

“There was a ship in the harbor and they said it was from Connecticut. I should have sent a letter, I know, but it might have been months before another ship came. So instead of writing I decided to come myself.”

“You mean that, just on an impulse, you left your home and sailed almost across the world?”

“No, it was not an impulse. I really had no home to leave.”

“And what about your grandfather’s estate? As I know he was a wealthy man.”

“He was wealthy, once. But then he was ill for a long time and couldn’t manage the plantation. He left everything to an overseer who sold the whole crop and then disappeared. So after Grandfather died, there were just debts everywhere. I paid all of them. The land had to be sold, and the house and the slaves, and all the furniture from England. There wasn’t anything left.”

“Humph!” said Uncle Matthew.

There was an awkward silence. Then her aunt put an arm on Kit’s shoulder. “Poor Katherine! It must have been terrible for you! You were absolutely right to come to us. Wasn’t she, Mathew?” said Aunt Rachel.

“Yes,” her husband agreed. “She was right, I suppose, since we are her only relatives.”

At the door he turned again. “Your grandfather was a King’s man, I believe?”

“He was a Royalist, sir. Here in America aren’t you the subjects of King James?”

Without answering, Matthew Wood left the room.