Читать книгу The Meadows of the Moon - James Hilton - Страница 25

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And then one morning during the second week of the month she came downstairs to find the breakfast-table laid for two only. She called the maid’s attention and received the reply: “Mr. John told me there’d only be two this morning.”

Almost instantly a storm of suspicion assailed her. She ran upstairs immediately and knocked at Michael’s bedroom. There was no answer. Then she turned the handle and gazed in upon an empty room and a bed that had not been used.

Suspicion grew in her to panic. She ran back along the corridor to Nan’s room. “Micky’s not in his room,” she cried, shrilly, “and his bed’s not been slept in. Where is he? Do you know anything about it?”

Nan rubbed her eyes sleepily. “John will tell you,” she said, rather sadly. “John will tell you.”

“John—John—he’s gone to the tannery as usual....” A curious premonition of catastrophe broke in then upon her mind. “I want to know now—and you know, Nan—that’s why you’re so calm about it. Tell me—tell me—what’s been happening....”

“I don’t know.... I don’t know any more than you. But John says it’s all right. He’ll tell you when he comes home.”

“He’ll tell me?” Her voice became suddenly calm. “Yes, he’ll tell me. And he’ll tell me now—as soon as I can get down to the works.”

“Fran, I think I’d wait if I were you——”

But she was already out of the room and half-way along the corridor—a different, determined woman, now that it was too late.