Читать книгу Son of a Hundred Kings - Thomas B. Costain - Страница 24

Barney Grim had enjoyed a good New Year’s Eve drunk, but now he was getting over it. He was muttering to himself when they started out, but there were no boys on the street to jeer at him and allude to his clouded paternity, and so the whip was left in its socket. The hack proceeded at a rate which might be called morose.

It was a night of supreme beauty, cold and clear and still. The stars twinkled and the snow was packed down so hard on the streets that the steady clippety-clop of Barney Grim’s old horse had almost the effect of gunnery. The pleasant light of oil lamps, which lacked so completely and so happily the all-pervading insistence of electricity, was seen in the windows of the quiet houses. It was suppertime, and the streets were deserted save for one tall young man in a form-fitting gray overcoat and a pair of brown fur gauntlets who was singing in a low voice, “Juanita ... Oh, oh, Juanita ...” as he strode along. An icy crossing sent him sprawling and brought the music to an abrupt end. Barney Grim said, “Blasted dude!” and, as though revived by the incident, took out his whip for the first time and lashed at the horse.

They swung at a much sharper gait around St. Paul’s Church, where the organ was booming (Sterling Rennie, the new organist, was playing there for his own pleasure); and a sleigh, heaped high with rugs and with sleigh bells jingling at a furious rate, came around the corner from Grand Avenue. Christian saw that it contained Mr. and Mrs. Tanner Craven and knew that they were following their usual custom of leaving the house, after the last reception guest had departed, for a solitary dinner at the Cameo House. He knew they would have exactly the same dinner as on all previous New Year visits: celery and olives (William had never seen an olive but had heard it was a most unpleasant-tasting thing), a thick vegetable soup, roast turkey, cold ham, cold tongue, mashed potatoes, canned peas, and plum pudding. “The nobs!” he thought with a shade of bitterness.

He dismissed them at once from his mind and began to think of a more important matter. Tilly would be looking through the colored glass panel at the front door and would be surprised to see him come dashing up like this. “She’ll think I’ve taken leave of my senses,” he said to himself anxiously.

He began then to rehearse the case in his mind, wondering what would be the best way to break the news. By the time they came to the corner of Wilson and Bendy, which was only a block from the house, he had decided. He would jump right into the heart of the matter, saying to her, “Well, Tilly, here’s a real stroke of luck, a sum of money every week. You’ll be able to add every cent of it to your principal.” No, on final thoughts he decided to leave out the reference to principal and let Tilly come around to that herself. The money she had laid away, most of it being a legacy she had come into, was a favorite topic with her. “I added to my principal today,” she would often remark, folding her hands in her lap and looking important and proud, even though the addition could not have been more than a dollar or two. William had no idea what the bank account contained. On occasions when he worked up his courage to speak of the need he had for money, for some special wood, perhaps, or for castings, she would be quite furious with him. “Do you think, William Christian, I would rob my principal for you and your inventions!”

He was getting nervous now that the testing time was at hand. Perhaps it would be wise to coach the boy as to how he should act.

“It’s this way, young fellow,” he began in an apologetic tone. “You’re a well-mannered boy, and I want you to be the politest you’ve ever been in your whole life when you meet your new aunt. You say, ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ and ‘I won’t be any trouble, ma’am,’ and don’t speak until you’re spoken to. I wonder now if we could think up something complimentary for you to say, something that would please her right off. Let me see now....”

The boy’s only response was a deep sigh, followed by steady breathing. He had fallen asleep.